#like do i need to have a panic attack before you to take me seriously?

[runawrites-blog]

In Tune (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: During a chance few situations, everyone in your and Bucky's social circle gets to notice how in tune with each other you two are. (Female Reader) Word Count: 3,958 Warnings: Non-Graphic Violence/ Referenced Fighting. Non Graphic Injuries. Non-Graphic Panic Attacks/ Aftermath of Panic Attacks. No Y/N. Petnames (Love, Sweetheart) A/N: Bucky has a panic attack in the VII part but it's not graphic and Steve basically stumbles in on the scene when he has already managed to calm down again. Also, the injury is that the reader got stabbed and Bucky is worried for her. Crossposted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58773439

---

I.

The way back from your mission left you all freezing in the back of the SHIELD van you’d escaped. With two windows busted in and a huge hole shot into the side, the wind was now blowing through the vehicle as you descended the snowy mountain and made your way toward a SHIELD safe house.

Natasha’s eyes drifted across everyone on board, watching how Steve kept taking one hand off the steering wheel whenever possible to try and warm it up, how Sam was shivering in the seat next to her, how Clint had his arms tightly wrapped around himself and you pulling your jacket around your body as shivers wracked your form. She looked at Bucky and watched how he kept flexing his flesh hand, likely trying to keep the blood circulating and thereby keep it warm. What set him apart from everyone else was that, while the rest of the team looked miserable, Bucky looked more anxious than anything.

But before she could ask him if he was alright, Natasha noticed how you were also looking at Bucky. Your eyes flicked from his hand to his deep frown and back, a concerned expression on your face. It didn’t take you long to move, taking Bucky’s flesh hand into both of yours before bringing it up to your face to blow on it in the hopes of warming it up. To Natasha’s surprise Bucky almost instantly relaxed as you began to blow warm air onto his hand, turning to look at you with a thankful smile.

“Better?”

“Warmer.” He answered, balling his hand into a fist as you once again blew warm air onto his skin. “Thank you, Sweetheart.”

“I know how much you hate being cold.” You murmured, wrapping both your hands around his as you gave him a comforting smile. “If this is what I can do to help, then I’ll do it. No need to thank me, Love.”

Natasha watched you two with a fond expression, realising how in tune you were with each other, how you’d realised what had made Bucky so anxious in a matter of seconds and how you’d immediately known how to help him. It was understandable that after everything he’d been through he hated being cold but Natasha also knew as well as anyone on the team that Bucky would have suffered through his discomfort in silence had it not been for your quick reaction. And she was thankful that her friend had someone who loved and supported him.

---

II.

“Uno.”

Clint watched as Bucky, Natasha and you all stared at him putting down his second to last card, warning everyone that he had almost won. And he knew that if no one put down a draw two or a draw four card or changed the colour he was bound to win this game.

“Seriously?” Natasha said in faked exasperation, laughing as she leaned back in the seat of the SHIELD plane you were all taking on your way to another mission. “You’ve won how many times now? Four?”

“Five.”

“I still think you shouldn’t have won that last one.”

“We agreed that you were allowed to stack draw four cards onto other draw four cards or onto draw two cards, so I took advantage of that.”

Clint grinned at Natasha’s expression before turning back to you and Bucky, sitting opposite him at the table. But you two weren’t looking at him, at least not fully. While your eyes still kept flicking back to Clint, you were much more focused on Bucky next to you, raising your eyebrows as if asking him an unsaid question. Bucky was fully looking at you and when he saw your expression he closed is eyes, his head moving just the smallest fraction to give you a nod. Before Cint could even think about what you two were possibly planning Natasha put down her card, a simple blue seven.

Then it was Bucky’s turn and he placed his card down with the faintest smirk on his lips. “Draw two.”

For a second Clint wondered why Bucky was smirking like that because it was you that would have to draw two more cards and with the colour still being blue he would still get to place his last one. Then he saw the grin spreading on your face as you put your card onto the pile in the middle of the table. “Draw four. Now you have to draw six cards, Clint.”

“Doll, you also get to choose a colour.”

Clint watched your smirk grow at the chuckle in Bucky’s voice. “You’re right, Sweetheart. Well then, I choose green.”

“You have to be kidding me, you two! Did you seriously team up with each other, just so I wouldn’t win?”

Bucky chuckled at that, shrugging his shoulders at Clint. “And we did that without even having to exchange a word.”

“That was very creepy, yes.”

“I thought it was kind of sweet.”

“Nat, you only think so because it means I’m not winning the game.”

“I really do think it’s sweet how in synch they are.”

---

III.

“You can relax, I won’t hurt you and I will fix up that malfunction in your arm.”

But it was obvious to Tony that Bucky could not simply relax, not when he was sitting in a sterile-looking room, in a cold metal chair as the other man got ready to dig into the wires of his arm. He was sure the only reason Bucky had even agreed to let Tony take a look at his arm was that you had come along with the promise of making sure no one did anything he didn’t want. But Bucky still looked terribly tense despite your presence in the room. You stood by the side, obviously worried about getting in the way as Tony started to set everything up.

“Seriously, Bucky, you’re in good hands. I know I joke around all the time but right now I’m one hundred per cent serious and completely focused. You will be just fine.”

Bucky simply nodded, remaining quiet as he focused on his breathing. Tony watched your eyes flicking to Bucky once more, giving the man a comforting smile and immediately the grip he had on the armrest with his right hand loosened a little. Tony watched you trying to comfort Bucky while still trying to stay out of the way for a few seconds more before he spoke up.

“If you want to sit down by his side, that’s fine. You won’t get in the way.”

You perked up at that and quickly thanked him, grabbing a nearby stool and pulling it to the right side of the chair. There you sat down and placed a hand over Bucky’s right one. He immediately turned it around to grab onto your hand, holding on tight and taking a deep breath. Concern painted your features as you leaned in closer, pressing a kiss to his bare right shoulder.

“I can talk you through everything Tony does.”

“Thank you.”

That was the first time Tony had heard Bucky speak since coming into the lab over two hours earlier for a first assessment of the arm’s malfunction. It was not a surprise to him that you were the one who helped him relax enough to speak, though. Tony knew that you were by far one of the biggest sources of comfort to Bucky and that a few soothing words from you or some gentle touches could always calm the man down. Still, it was fascinating to Tony how quickly your words had done the trick. That was until you spoke up again.

“I know you hate having medical or maintenance procedures performed on you and not knowing exactly what’s going on, so if you want me to talk you through every little detail, I totally will.”

Bucky thanked you again, the tension in his muscles leaving, as understanding dawned on Tony. It made sense that after decades of having procedures performed on him without knowing what would happen next, much less having anyone ask his consent, not being filled in on the details would make Bucky anxious. Tony cursed himself for not having realised this sooner and it amazed him how quickly you had figured out what was making Bucky so anxious without the man even having to say a word. He turned to you with an amused smile.

“You’re really a mind reader, knowing what’s wrong without him even having to say a word.”

“I’m not a mind reader. Bucky and I just know what the other needs.”

“And I’m really thankful for that, Doll.”

---

IV.

The mission had been nothing short of demanding, both physically and mentally, and everyone who had been on it was drained by the end of it. A mission involving a hostage situation was always hard on everyone. However, due to an impending storm, the director had decided that everyone would be booked into a hotel to await being able to head back home. And since the hotels were overbooked due to the storm it left you in a room with two beds for three people. It only made sense that you shared one of the beds with Bucky, leaving Wanda with the other one, so you all silently went to get ready to turn in for the night.

Wanda found the quiet strangely unnerving since you were usually a talkative person and she always enjoyed talking to you. But now you were quietly changing into comfortable clothes, having just gotten out of the shower, before sitting down on the foot of your bed. It worried her, to say the least, but it wasn’t surprising. You’d had a pretty rough run-in with one of the hostage takers, so it was understandable that you were this quiet.

It seemed that Bucky had also noticed because he sat down right next to you and took your hand off your lap to hold it in both of his. Wanda sat on her bed and watched his actions, observing how he leaned forward to examine your face to which you simply turned your head away.

“This mission has been hard for you, hasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“I know this sounds like empty words right now but you did all you could and you did well, Sweetheart.” Bucky said gently, making you turn back to look at him. “These people are still alive because of your help.”

“That man who attacked me, he came out of nowhere.”

“But you managed to fight him off because you’re strong and capable, Doll.”

“I was so scared.”

“How can I help you?” Bucky asked and Wanda watched you remain quiet, prompting him to lean closer again so he could press a gentle kiss to your temple. “Would you like to be my little spoon tonight? I can hold you all night long.”

“Please.”

With that, he began to gently move you and Wanda watched as he manoeuvred you into lying on your side, all soft touch and gentle guidance. When you were finally lying down, facing Wanda’s bed, Bucky lay down behind you and drew you into his arms, holding your hands with one of his and pressing a kiss to your cheek from behind. The two of you didn’t speak much after that, save for Bucky telling you how much he loved you when he realised you were about to drift off. When he was sure you were asleep he looked at Wanda who had lied down on her bed somewhere along the way as she’d been watching you two.

“Thank you, James.”

“For what?”

“Taking care of my friend. She means a lot to me but I wasn’t sure how to help. You immediately knew what she needed and how to take care of her.”

“I will always take care of her.”

---

V.

“This movie is kind of boring, I don’t understand why it made the list.”

Steve just shushed Sam’s complaint, eyes still glued to the screen. Resigning himself to the fate of having to sit through this movie Sam let his eyes wander across the living room and it became apparent to him that no one but Steve and perhaps Thor seemed really invested in the movie. Natasha was quietly talking to Clint next to her, Wanda had taken up doing her nails instead of watching the movie, Bruce was halfway to falling asleep, Tony was on his cellphone and you were reading a book with Bucky’s head on your chest, his eyes closed as you ran your fingers through his hair.

Sam couldn’t help smiling at the display because no matter how much he teased you or bickered with Bucky, he had always been genuinly happy for the two of you. Your fingers worked through Bucky’s hair, scratching his head as your free hand held the book you were currently reading. The only thing that clued Sam into the fact that Bucky was still awake was how he’d sometimes blink his eyes open to look at the television when there was a loud scene in the movie.

Then you took your hand out of Bucky’s hair to flip the page, making him look up at you with a deep frown on his features and Sam had to bite his lip to keep himself from chuckling at how grumpy his friend looked at this short lack of affection. You just gave Bucky an amused smile before going back to petting his hair, making him smile contently and close his eyes again.

This process repeated a few times until about the twelfth time you took your hand from his hair to flip the page which elicited what Sam could only describe as a whine from Bucky. Sam had to bring a hand in front of his mouth to stifle his laughter at the sound and he quickly decided to tease Bucky about this the next day.

But his quiet laughter turned into a smile when he watched your reaction. With an affectionate eye roll, you put your book down to wrap both your arms around Bucky. Your left hand took up running up and down his back while your right one resumed the previous task of petting Bucky’s hair, to which the man relaxed again, closing his eyes with a content smile on his face. And Sam couldn’t help thinking about how amazing it was that you always understood what Bucky needed or wanted, just from the looks he gave you or the sounds he made.

---

VI.

“We need a medic here! She was stabbed!”

Yelena watched as medics rushed over at your words, gathering around Natasha to help her. She gave you a thankful smile and you responded with a curt nod before turning to Bucky, asking him if he was alright. Yelena’s smile didn’t fade as she watched him press a lingering kiss to your lips before leaning his forehead against yours. From the moment she’d first seen you two she’d seen what a perfect match you two were.

“Thanks for having my back in there, Doll.”

“Always.”

“I mean it. That one guy surprised me and I’m glad you were there to take him down.” Bucky said with a soft smile before pulling back and giving you a once-over. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“I will be fine, don’t you worry, Love.”

While Yelena felt relief wash over her at your words Bucky stilled, frowning in concern as he looked you over more thoroughly. His hand came up to cup your left shoulder, intending to turn your body to get a look at your back to check it for injuries, and you winced ever so slightly. Had it not been for Bucky immediately pulling his hand away Yelena was sure she would have missed it.

“What was that?”

“Love, listen--”

“You winced when I touched your shoulder.” He stated matter of factly, eyes going wide in fear. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that.”

“Bucky, I will be fine.”

“There it is again.” Bucky shook his head and brought his hand up to once more reach for your arm, this time not touching you but hovering mere centimetres from your body. “You will be fine? That means you’re not fine now.”

“James, you don’t need to be so worried about me.”

But Bucky just shook his head and gently moved the strap of the harness that secured your weapon to your back, and his breath caught in his throat as he saw blood soaking your suit underneath. Before you could even say anything else, he was calling out to the paramedics who had taken care of Natasha, looking over his shoulder at them.

“We need help over here!”

Then he turned back to you and shook his head, bringing up both of his hands and interlacing his fingers before pressing the heel of his right one down on the wound to stop the bleeding, using the other one to apply pressure. You hissed in pain and Yelena was about to come over to ask if she could help when Bucky spoke up again. He sounded almost mad at you but Yelena could hear the obvious concern seeping into his voice.

“Why would you not tell me you were injured? What happened?”

“The guy who attacked you, he-- he stabbed me in the chest just below the shoulder. But-- But the strap of my holster kept the bleeding at bay and Natasha was worse off than me, so-- so I wanted them to look at her first.”

“We have dozens of paramedics on sight. One of them could have helped you.” Bucky chastised you as he kept up the pressure on your wound, making you groan in pain. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart. I need to stop the bleeding.”

Yelena watched as you opened your mouth to speak but you were interrupted when paramedics rushed over, med kits in hand, taking over for Bucky and treating your injury. She came over, seeing how worried Bucky looked, and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“She’s lucky she has you. I wouldn’t have been able to tell that she was injured.”

“I knew something was wrong the second we came out of the building.”

“Then she is really lucky you know her so well.”

---

VII.

When Steve returned with your drinks he found the table empty and when he looked around the cafe you three had stopped at after a day out, neither you nor Bucky were anywhere in sight. At first, he was confused but when he found Bucky’s phone still on the table and your jacket still hanging over the back of the chair his confusion was replaced with worry because you two had clearly left in a hurry.

Quickly, he put the beverages down and went for the door to go find you two but that was easier than he would have thought because he only had to take a few steps until he spotted you in the alleyway next to the cafe. At first, this only added to his confusion but when he got close enough to get a good look at you two, at Bucky standing hunched over with his hands clasping his bent knees and your fingers stroking his flesh shoulder while you talked to him in a hushed voice, everything became clear.

Bucky was having a panic attack.

Wanting nothing more than to help his friend Steve hurried over but the second he came into earshot he saw that you had already managed to calm Bucky down, to help him back to the present and control his breathing. He heard your whispered instructions to focus on five things he could hear, four things he could see, three things he could feel, two things he could smell and one thing he could taste. He watched as Bucky took shuddering breath after shuddering breath, as you rubbed his back soothingly and as his friend slowly straightened up again.

“Bucky, are you alright?”

Both you and Bucky turned to look at Steve, the latter giving his friend a shaky nod while your hand tightened on his shoulder. Steve watched as you leaned forward to get a good look at Bucky’s face, gently reaching out to stroke his cheek.

“It’s alright if you’re not.”

“No, I’m alright now.” Bucky said, swallowing thickly and taking another deep breath as his eyes flickered to your face. “Thank you, Sweetheart.”

“Don’t thank me, Love. I’m just glad that I could help you.”

“What happened, Buck?”

Bucky turned back to Steve, shaking his head dismissively but quickly stopping when his friend gave him a stern look, making him sigh in defeat. “This song came on and it-- it just triggered a memory from-- from this mission back in the eighties and it made me panic, made me think of how I made a mistake on that mission, how I was punished, how I hurt that man.”

Steve felt his heart ache at those words and he quickly moved closer to place a comforting hand on his friend’s back, strong and steady. “Bucky, are you sure you’re alright now?”

“Yes, I’m good.” He whispered out and nodded his head toward you. “She helped me calm down and did some grounding exercises with me. I just feel so ridiculous for getting triggered by a fucking song playing in a cafe.”

“Don’t say that, James.”

Steve knew that you only called Bucky by his first name when the situation was serious or when you needed to give him a stern talk and he watched as understanding dawned on his friend’s face that he would now get a lecture from you.

“Remember what your therapist said? Remember how she said that triggers can be anything and that is why you needed grounding exercises to bring you back to the moment, because anything can be triggering?” You said sternly though your thumb kept gently stroking over Bucky’s cheekbone. “This is not ridiculous, James.”

“I still ruined the day.”

“Steve, is your day ruined?”

“Nope, how about yours?”

“Mine, neither.” You said, raising an eyebrow at Bucky. “See? No one’s day is ruined. But the most important thing now is that you feel better. Do you really feel better or are you just trying to calm us down?”

Bucky sighed softly and nodded. “I do feel better, thanks to you. I’m so glad you caught onto the fact that I was going to a bad mental place and got me out of there. Thank you.”

“I know you, Bucky. The moment I saw your fingers clench around your phone, your pupils dilating and your breathing quicken I knew something was up.”

Steve looked back at you in surprise. He knew you and Bucky were very in tune with each other, that you two knew the other in and out, but it still surprised him how you could even recognise the smallest change in body language. And he decided to tell you as much.

“I’m really glad Bucky has a partner like you, that knows him so well. I feel terrible that I wasn’t there to help but I’m glad that you were with him.”

“Don’t martyr yourself now. You can’t be around all the time.” Bucky said before giving you and Steve a small smile. “Should we head back inside? We left all our stuff at the table.”

Steve nodded quickly, taking in how soaked you’d gotten from the rain. But before he could even comment on it or make a joke about how you’d left your jacket at the table Bucky was already shrugging his leather jacket off to drape it over your shoulder, making you smile back at him.

“Thanks, Love. You always know what I need.”

“Right back at you, Sweetheart.”

[syddsatyrn]

⛧Devotion is Love with Wings⛧ Chapter One: A Sleepless Sovereign

Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4

⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

⛧Warnings: Alcohol, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, king x servant, panic attack, heartbreak, happy ending.

⛧Words: 3.3k

⛧Summary: As Lucifer's advisor you are required to assist him with a number of things. That includes his schedule, many chores, and the occasional middle of the night panic attack.

⛧Notes: This is my first Hazbin Hotel fic! I hope you all like it because Alastor is my next victim. I just want to give poor Luci some love, he is such a cutie and he's been through enough! My beta reader is @hellfiremunsonn and we love her for that.

---------------------

The sun rises and a soft glow illuminates the kitchen. Faint streaks of dawn get brighter as time goes by, the sky is painted with hues of pink and gold. Every day you wake before him and make his coffee. It was a morning ritual you’ve come to enjoy. The silence allowed you time to think and plan your day. As you fill a cup full of coffee, the smell permeates the air.

You carefully take the cup upstairs on a tray and down a long hallway. The air hummed with a faint scent of luxury. It's grandiose and extravagant manor, with gold trim in the hallway. Apples and angelic wings decorate the molding. Your footsteps echo against the marble floors until you stop at the large double doors. You open the right side of the door quietly. The room is dark, some light peeked through the window, but the long velvet curtains block out most of it.

He's so peaceful, lying there, the silk sheets covering his midsection leave little to the imagination. His messy blonde hair and soft face has always made your heart skip a beat. Soft snores escape his lips, you almost feel bad for waking him up while he’s in such a state.  

“Your majesty?” You finally speak. The King stirs and covers his face with his hands. He lets out a small groan in response.

*It's time to get up, sir.” You say as Lucifer slowly and reluctantly sits up. You hand him his coffee with a smile, he looks up at you with drowsy eyes. 

“Thank you, y/n.” He replied, taking a sip of the warm and bitter drink.  

You start to stroll around his room, picking up clothes that have been tossed and putting them in the laundry basket. Lucifer watches as you pick up his messy room, sipping his coffee occasionally. 

“You don't have to do all that y’know.” Lucifer says, feeling a little guilty about his disorganization. 

“Oh but I do, sir.” You said with a straight face. 

“Y/N, I don't know what I would do without you.” He admits with a soft chuckle. 

You smile, your face turns a little pink but it's hard to tell with the lights off. You walk over to the curtains and draw them open. Lucifer doesn't look too pleased with how bright it is. You walk over to his wardrobe and shuffle through the many different articles of clothing until you find his white suit with red accents. 

“Your daughter called, there are documents you need to look over and you have a meeting this afternoon.” You remind him as you place his clothes on the corner of his large bed.

“Can I just go back to sleep?” Lucifer pleads with you and you let out a small sigh.

“Every day you ask me the same question and every day I tell you the same answer…”

“So that's a no…?” He chuckles softly.

That is correct, your majesty.” You roll your eyes as you leave him to get dressed for the day. 

----------------------

The relationship between you two has always been a little strange. You were hired many years ago as a maid for his estate. But after a small while grew to be his right hand, now you’re titled as his “advisor”. You take your job very seriously, everyday you make his coffee, bring him his meals, complete household chores, chauffeur him around, you even attend his meetings for him occasionally. Your entire life is devoted to your King, you felt it was a respectable title. You've worked hard to get to this point, and recognize the power that comes with that. After many years of proving yourself, Hell sees you as an extension of the royal family.

Lucifer had quite a soft spot for you, he offered you a room in his home so you can do your job without the bothersome commute. He pays you well and allows you access to many of his personal assets. The free room and board, along with never having to cook for yourself made it all worth it.

After some time you developed some feelings for him, but you would never admit that. You’re not up to that societal standard. You’ve always told yourself he could have anyone he wanted, which is true. The King of Hell was dashing and charming, but also extremely powerful. Despite all that he doesn't seem to fraternize with anyone, ever since Lilith left, it’s like he's lost that part of himself.

It was time for you to get yourself a cup of coffee and bring his breakfast to the dining hall. After finishing your task you sit down at the dining table and enjoy your coffee. Not long after, Lucifer emerges, dressed, but still looking rather fatigued.

“Did you not sleep well, sir?” You ask and bring your cup to your lips.

“No, I was tossing and turning all night.” He grumbles, the dark bags under his eyes are a dead giveaway.

“Hmm…you’ve been doing that quite a bit more often than usual.” You remark.

“I know! What is up with that? It's ridiculous.” The king says with a huff.

“Ridiculous indeed, sir.”

Lucifer called Charlie on his cellphone, and talked about the Hotel she was running. Charlie says he is due for a visit so you make a mental note to schedule that later. Your mind wanders as he talks on the phone while eating various fruits. The last time Lucifer wasn’t sleeping well he was having nightmares. You remember one awful night in particular, you were up late finishing some paperwork for him when suddenly you hear a scream coming from his room. You rush in and he's curled up in a ball, sobbing. You immediately crawl into his bed to comfort him, he laid his head in your lap and you played with his blonde hair until he fell back to sleep.  

“Y/N…?” Lucifer says and tilts his head slightly. Looks like he finished his phone call while you were lost in thought. You shake yourself from your memories, a pink tint spreads across your face.

“Yes?”

“Something on your mind, my dear?” He asks with a look of concern on his face. 

“No sir, it's nothing.” You assure him. Neither of you have spoken of that night since.

You continue to drink your coffee, Lucifer gives you a skeptical look and continues his breakfast. The day was a very average day. After breakfast Lucifer went to his study to read over some documents and sign a few things. You took his almost empty plate and cup to the kitchen and placed it in the sink for the staff to deal with. You text Charlie with a list of dates to choose from to schedule a visit, reassuring her that you’ll make it happen.

Next is time to clean Lucifer’s room. It's not disgusting by any means, more like cluttered. He tosses stuff on the floor absentmindedly and you always end up tidying the place at some point. Besides, you are the only one allowed in his room, who else is going to do it?

You collect all the empty liquor glasses and place them on a silver tray along with the empty decanter. Making his bed was rather difficult due to it being so large, but you manage like you always do. You tidy up his bathroom, finding more clothes tossed on the floor, you put them in the laundry hamper as well. You leave his room with the silver tray and take it to the kitchen. The staff fill the decanter and give you clean crystal glasses. You return to his room and set the tray on his desk. After that, you take the basket of clothes to the laundry room.

Before you know it, the clock strikes one and you make your way to Lucifer's study. You open the door softly and enter, you set down a small tray with a cup of tea and a plate of cookies on his desk. He picks up the cup and takes a sip, the tea is exactly how he likes it.

“Are you here to tell me I have to attend another one of those annoying meetings?” Lucifer asks in a slightly irritable tone. He spins the chair around to face you, his yellow eyes fixate on yours.

“I’m afraid so, your majesty.” You reply. Lucifer groans and slumps back in his chair. Sometimes he can be a little childish, you cover your mouth to stifle a giggle.

“Y/N, I can’t sit through another one of those meetings. I will literally wilt away into nothing.” Lucifer says, he turns to face you and takes your hand in his. He softly squeezes it, your face turns a little pink as you look down and meet his begging eyes with yours.

“Can you go instead? Pretty please?” You can never resist those eyes and he knows it. Your face softens and you squeeze his hand back.

“Okay, but don't make this a habit.” You say you let go of his hand. Still trying to retain some sort of professionalism.

“Thanks doll, I owe you one.” He says with a warm smile, the same smile that makes your heart skip a beat every single time. You bow and leave him to his work, once you get behind closed doors you let out a long sigh, you truly don't want to attend this meeting either. But it can’t be helped, the show must go on.

You grab your overcoat, cellphone, keys, and meet the driver out front. It didn't take long to arrive at Carmilla’s manor. You have been asked to attend a meeting with the overlords and report back to Lucifer. The guards led you through the manor to a large meeting room, you open the door and it seems everyone is in attendance.

The V’s, Zestial, Alastor, Rosie, Zeezi and Ms Carmilla Carmine herself. You take the empty seat next to Zestial.

“My my, I didn't think Lucifer would send his pet, but Miss Carmine, I thought there was a No Dogs Allowed sign out front?” Alastor immediately starts with the catty behavior. You don't have time for any of this, you need to be home soon to serve supper.

"Your words are like a bad song on repeat. Spare us." You retort with your arms folded. The Radio Demon gives you a sinister stare and you roll your eyes at his half baked attempt at scaring you.

“Please, can we start this stupid meeting? I have somewhere to be.” Velvet says looking at her phone, not paying much attention to anything else. Vox agrees with her and Carmilla begins to speak on various topics.

The meeting felt like it ran longer than expected, it was concerning how we move forward now that exterminations are no longer an issue. They spoke of which towns were hit the hardest by the attack, what kind of ongoing plans they have and how to proceed with caution, for we do not trust the Angels and their hidden intentions. After a while, the conversations started to devolve into personal ones.

“Lucifer will be assisting the Pride Ring as best he can, any requests for aid on his part can go through me for approval. Trust that they will be hand delivered to him in person. The King wants nothing more to provide relief for his people.” Was the last thing you said before getting up and excusing yourself from the meeting, politely.

When you make it back to the car, you let out a sigh of relief. It's finally over, time to head back to the manor. When you returned it was already late into the afternoon. You hang up your coat and head to the kitchen, you pour Lucifer a small glass full of whiskey and ice. Before you put the bottle back in its place you take a quick swig, that meeting was just agonizing. You needed something to take the edge off.

You walk to the study with the glass on a silver tray, as you open the door, she sees Lucifer in his chair, reading.

“Good afternoon, your majesty.” You greet him with a smile and a short bow.

“Ah good, you’re back. How was the meeting?” He asks, genuinely curious. 

“It was…interesting, to say the least.” You reply while handing him the glass. “I can see why you did not want to attend.”

“They are so insufferable, right?” He says and takes a sip. 

“Indeed, sir.” You don't wish to mention Alastor’s comment from earlier, the last thing you need to do is give him something to be cross about.

“Dinner will be ready soon. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” You ask politely.

“Oh no, you always do so much. Thank you Y/N.” Lucifer takes another sip of his whiskey.

You dismiss yourself and head down to the kitchen to help prepare dinner for yourself and Lucifer.

Lucifer spins around in his chair and takes a sip of the drink you left him with. He’s trying to hide it but he’s absolutely exhausted. Lately when he’s tried to sleep, memories flood his mind like ghosts of the past. The absence of warmth beside him was a void he could not fill. When he will be free from the torment, he is unsure. But every day he wakes up and there you are, right beside him as always. He knows you try to put off a cold exterior, you’re the king's guard dog after all. You were always one to never indulge your secrets but he knew a few things about you that no one else did.

The night you held him in your lap it looked as though he had fallen asleep. While you carded your fingers through his hair you whispered “I wish you knew how remarkable I think you are.” He heard you loud and clear. The King always had a space in his heart dedicated to you, but you’re his advisor, consultant, and au pair. How would the world see you both as a couple? It was certainly something that would be looked down upon by most. A bell rings and pulls him from his thoughts, dinner is ready.

-------------------

He sits in his usual spot and you always sit on his right side. Dinner was a mix of high grade meats and vegetables. You cut into your food and display proper table manners, Lucifer sneaks glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking.

“I scheduled a time for you to visit your daughter's hotel this Thursday.” You remark and Lucifer nods with food in his mouth.

“Good, I’ve been meaning to visit, I’ve just been so tired lately, and If I’m not tired I’m busy.”

“You need some proper rest, sir.” You state the obvious. You wish there was something else you could do to assist him with this.

“Trust me, if I had the choice I’d be asleep right now, my dear.” He takes another bite, his face looks a little forlorn. Usually you would keep to yourself unless Lucifer would outright say something is wrong, but this is different.

“Is there something wrong, sir?”

“No, it's nothing, Y/N. I’m just tired, I swear.” He says, trying to brush off any depressive feelings. You give him a bit of side eye but decide to let it go. But deep down you knew something was troubling him. It was just a matter of if and when he will tell you. You both continue eating, he tells you about the book he's reading in hopes to clear the melancholy vibe in the room. You sit and listen to him ramble on like any other normal day.

------------------

It was getting late, Lucifer was in his room, drink in hand. Outside, the world slumbered beneath a blanket of stars, oblivious to his pain. With the window open he seeks solace in the cold night air. But the chill only served to remind him of the emptiness inside. He downs the rest of his drinks and sets it on the nightstand. He crawls under the covers and closes his eyes and wraps his arms around himself as he tries to get some rest.

But all he could see is her, walking away, leaving him heartbroken and devastated. A single tear falls down his cheek. He buries his face in the pillow and tries to forget these memories, good and bad. The minutes pass like fleeting shadows, and Lucifer finally starts to fall asleep. But not long after he wakes up in a cold sweat with a scream. His chest heaves and he feels like he can’t breathe, he looks down at his shaking hands.

You were doing your rounds in your silk pajamas, locking doors and shutting windows. You said goodnight to the kitchen staff and headed upstairs. Then suddenly you hear a loud scream come from Lucifer's bedroom, you immediately rush up the stairs to the door and open it.

He’s sitting upright in his bed, knees against his chest, holding his face in his hands. Tears streaming down his cheeks as he recalls the haunting memories. You don't say anything, you quickly sit beside him and place your hand on his back. He immediately pulls you in for a hug, you’re surprised at first but you hug him back. He buries his face in your shoulder, letting out soft muffled sobs. 

“Shhhh…it's going to be okay…I’m here…I’ve got you.” You whisper soft words of reassurance in his ear, he just hugs you tighter.

“I’m so sorry…” He says between sniffles and you start to gently rub his back. You wished there was a way to stop him from feeling so miserable, but all you can do is sit and comfort him for as long as he needs. In the safety of your arms, the remnants of the dream began to dissipate. Your familiar voice and smell provided a soothing counterpoint to the chaos of his mind.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, my dear.” You say as you pet the back of his head, his face finally emerges from your shoulder and meets your gaze. You gently wipe away any stray tears with your thumb and give him a soft smile. “Tough times don’t last, tough people do, and you’re one of the strongest people I know.” You say just barely above a whisper. 

A small smile appears on his face and you brush away a few stray hairs, glad that your king is feeling a little better. “Is there anything else I can do to make you feel more at ease?”

“I do have one request…But I’m not sure how you’re gonna feel about it.” He says, while looking away, he’s definitely embarrassed by his own question.

“Try me.” You reply, it can’t be that bad, he’s never asked you to do anything you’re not okay with.

“I would really appreciate it if I didn't have to sleep alone tonight…” He finally asks, he blushes a little, unsure if that's even okay to ask. You can't help but also turn a little red, this is absolutely not allowed, but maybe the rules have exceptions in times of crisis.

“Yeah…I can do that.” You agree.

Lucifer’s golden eyes widen and he perks up a bit. “R-Really?”

“Yes, really.” You chuckle softly.

Lucifer crawls back under the covers and opens his arms for you to join him. You crawl over to him and settle in, his arms wrap around you and you lace your fingers with his hand, allowing him to spoon you. His body heat and the chill night air was the perfect combination to lull you to sleep.

“Goodnight Luci~” You say before sleep starts to drag you away from this world. A nickname you lovingly use very rarely. He nuzzles your shoulder and drifts off rather quickly with nothing but a content smile on his face. When you two will admit your feelings for each other is a mystery, but for now, you’re happy just to be his biggest support system. If there's one thing you’ve learned living with Lucifer, it's that devotion in any form, is love with wings.

[stoopidpigeonxx]

⋆˚｡⋆୨✧୧˚ 𝑶 𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏, 𝑴𝒚 𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏. ˚୨✧୧⋆｡˚⋆

CAPTAIN CURLY SMUT HEADCANNONS !! NSFW under the cut. MDNI.

(These are all completely random, not tied to any prompt. I just want more stuff about this guy cuz I love him) Fandom/characters: Mouthwashing, Captain Curly, other characters briefly mentioned.

Content warning: Smut (obviously), p in v, curlys packing, title kink, thigh-riding, face-sitting, size difference, manhandling, reader is AFAB, creampie, multiple rounds, riding, cursing, J*mmy.

-He's a grower, not a shower.

I firmly believe Curly is a distinguished gentleman, unlike J*mmy who would most likely brag about how big he is and end up only being like, 5 or 6 inches. Curly, however, will not mention his size until you see it for yourself. And when he sees your face, he panics. "Oh-shit, uh- i-is it gonna be too big for you? It's okay if it is, I should've warned you.."

He's four inches soft, uncut. I think he keeps himself decently groomed. He's not completely bare, but it isn't a forest. He's got a little v-line that's only visible when he wears sweatpants that you go absolutely feral over. When he gets hard, whoo boy. 9 inches, throbbing. He's got a cute little vein near his tip that you like to attack when you're sucking him off because it makes his thighs shake. He's got a little bit of a mushroom tip, maybe more rounded. Perfect for hitting all those good spots inside you. In short, he's big. (he tucks it, that's why he doesn't have a bulge in his sprites. Also I'm sorry trans-Curly headcannon people ;-;)

-"Need a seat? I'll volunteer."

VEEEEEERRRYYY into face-sitting. Very. Like, the first thing he wants when you guys get freaky is for you to sit on his face. He's not exactly sure why he likes it, to be honest, he just loves the feeling of you absolutely lose yourself on his tongue. He isn't worried about suffocating or anything, since he's a lot bigger than you, so don't be afraid to ride his face! he can handle it! But seriously, use this guy as a seat. He'd give you a few licks up your slit at first to warm you up (again, gentleman) before going for your clit. And when he gets it, he sucks. Hard. He'd also probably sneak a finger or two inside you to add extra stimulation, because he really wants you to come on his face. He desperately yearns for the sound of you screaming his name as your juices cover his face and tongue, letting you ride your orgasm out before lifting you off his face and setting you down. "Alright, sweet-stuff, my turn. On your knees, please."

-Save a Polle, ride his big ass thighs.

So... we've all seen his sprite. He's thick as fuck. He's got a booty and bigger tits than me. But he also has deliciously large thighs.. so use that to your advantage, because he's totally down with it. He likes using it as foreplay to get you wet enough to take him, and he just likes the feeling. He'll probably give himself a hand while you're doing it, or he'll just watch and leave the touching to you.

He isn't much for public sex, but if you're really horny, he'll let you get high on his thigh over his uniform and gently praise you when you come. It gives him a little buzz to be doing something like that in a risky situation, like while he's in the cockpit sitting at the control panel, or even in the commons of the ship with Daisuke in a few rooms away. When you do come, which isn't that long after, he'll kiss you all over your face and head and twirl your hair in his fingers, using his other hand to rub your ass or back.

"There you go, sweetheart, that's a good girl. Good job."

-Sir yes sir.

I know, I know. He gets called 'Captain' and 'Sir' for his job. But if its coming from you when he's balls deep in you.. It's an entirely different reaction.

"D-did.. you just call me- mgh..- Captain?"

It makes him ferociously horny to hear that title slip from your lips, so pray you'll still walk tomorrow. "Ooh, fuck, yeahhh. Call me that again, baby. Call me that again.. Uh-huh. Captain takin' care of this pretty lil' pussy, huh.."

He doesn't dirty talk that explicitly, but you calling him captain gets his creative juices flowing. Oh, also his come. Yeah..

Its also perfect teasing material. You two couldn't even be getting it on, you'd just sneak up behind him and kiss him on the cheek and say "Morning, Captain!" In that tone you know drives him wild. Boom, hard. Poor guy.

-Yeehaw!

favorite position? Cowgirl. For many reasons. One, he loves looking at your face while you ride his cock. The noises, the facial expressions you make, the way your tits bounce up and down with your hips.. He wishes it was a renaissance painting to look at every morning. He also just likes being able to hold you easily. When you're on his lap, its easier for him to snake a hand up and hold your hair out of your face, or to give your ass gentle love taps (he would never spank you, unless asked to). He's a very hands-on guy and wants to touch you, everywhere he can.

Of course, he doesn't mind the occasional doggy, or missionary, or hell, even a Full Nelson, because you KNOW he's able to hold you like that. Manhandling comes naturally with Curly. Gently, of course. He would never hurt you.

-Gets a little messy.

Curly's no one pump chump. He'll go for hours. Even if he's came inside you at least five times, he'll keep going. He's got hella impressive stamina. His motivation? Seeing your cunt leaking his seed when he pulls out. He wants you to still find it in your underwear 3 days later. No hole goes unfilled. He's not exactly a breeder, per-say, though he definitely wouldn't complain about getting you pregnant, he just likes seeing you in a state. He thinks of it as artwork, leaving you so stuffed to the brim. The next day, he'd pull you aside and give you a quick finger-orgasm, just to see if his come's still in there. When it leaks onto his fingers along with your own, he's a very happy man. "Ahh, look at that. Still got it in ya. Should fill you up even more later, hm?"

oof. my hands hurt. ;-;

[moondirti]

Hellloooo🖤 I’m the anon who asked about the Safehouse story!

My brain, unfortunately, is not nearly as wrinkly as yours so I cannot come up with creative ideas like you 😂 BUT! I have a few ideas? Maybe? If you can call them that lol.

Was the spanking the first physical interaction they had? What did the morning after that look like?

What happens if reader has a nasty mental health episode & tries to hide it from Ghost?

Does the pet thing progress? I think we all know that Ghost has a thing for the pet play. I don’t even care, that’s totally canon for me at this point.

Would you ever consider writing about the general dynamic they have? Like the “rules” Ghost might have for them?

Totally and completely a self indulgent ask from someone who just had to pull themselves out of a nasty mental health episode lmao I’m so sorry please ignore this if it’s annoying or dumb!

shh i love all of these. i have so many thoughts now / prev

cw: dubcon d/s lifestyle. petplay. controlling behaviour. possessiveness. panic attacks. toxicity. noncon collaring. financial manipulation. mention of self harm. brief fluff.

Your thing with Simon is hard to contextualise.

Or even understand, really.

Parts of it are welcome. He asserts himself in a way you haven't found in the nobodies you've hooked up with previous, happy to fuck you dumb if it means you'll surrender yourself completely. Which you do. You listen intently and follow every direction he gives in bed, and as a reward he wrings orgasm after orgasm from your squirming body. You cum more in one week than you have in the past month, never not naked and sore, wrists tender from where he anchors his hand to keep them pinned above your head. You hear puppy more than your own name, at this point. And it's a concerning because– Well...

You don't mind it.

But you still don't like him.

It isn't like you necessarily need to like your partners in order to have a good time, but it certainly helps if you can tolerate them beyond a dick-in-hole condition. Simon is an anomaly in that he is the worst person you know, whilst also serving as the best lay you've ever had.

That is to say, his habits haven't changed. He's a fucking terror to live with. Nightmare flatmate, the type you see strangers complain about on reddit forums or hear in a friends story from their sister's husband's cousin. Not something you would take seriously until you live the experience – now existing as a sore, precautionary tale you'll no doubt be pitching to anyone also considering subleasing their place as a safe house.

Perhaps it's made worse by the sexual element you share. Before, he had just been your average perverse man, stealing clothes and walking in on you in the bathroom. Now, it seems that sleeping with him has given him the go-ahead to push that behaviour to an extreme. He'll pat your ass while you go about your business, or tug your hair when you raise your voice. Treats you like a pet that has yet to be debarked; just a silly, sub-human way of entertainment.

You can't help but feel you enabled it. But no–

The pet play is cute when he's drilling your brains out – and perhaps only because you can't think straight enough to raise concern – but you're not a dog. Nor do you want to be treated like one throughout all hours of the day. The onus is on him for not catching the hint.

But of course, accountability isn't in his lexicon.

Things only get worse from there.

"An' where d'you think you're going?"

You're halfway out of the door when he catches you leaving.

If you had been more iron-willed, you would slip out and scurry away before he can continue whatever spiel he has stirring. Instead, it's instinct to shrivel in on yourself, clicking the door shut before turning to face the behemoth waiting in the foyer.

"Out." You huff, intent on cold-stoning him. But it's a fools game when your opponent in the broad-shouldered lieutenant – for he merely cocks his head, waiting your silence out with more silence, and it's all you can do to bite your tongue against the deluge of excuses that pile up. "My mates thought it would be a good idea to catch brunch. Y'know– to celebrate the start of summer break. It's a nice day out so..." You gesture to your attire, like you have any reason to justify a sundress to some man you are in no way committed to.

But you can read the possessive gleam of his eyes as they take stock of your appearance: from your expensive mules, up your moisturised legs, to the low cut of your décolletage. It's easy to connect it to that look he had when you came back home that fateful night, the look of warning before he'd taken you over his lap and slapped your ass raw.

And for some odd reason, you're compelled to dig yourself out of trouble.

"Hm. It is a nice day, innit?" You nod a bit too quick. He stalks closer. "Lots of people out." Your nod is a little less enthusiastic. He's centimetres away now. "Some bad, bad men too."

He lifts the ends of your dress, slowly. Your next words quiver on their way out your chest. It's alarming to find that they don't sound nearly as assertive as you intend for them to be, not like they do horny.

"Where are you going with this?"

Your skirt pools around your hips now, held up by one hand as the other smooths over with the gusset of your panties.

"You plan on lettin' them have at this puppycunt? Have I not been givin' it enough attention?" He mockingly coos, pressing harder against the mound between your legs. Your knees grow weak. Not of your own accord, but weak nonetheless, and you have to hold onto his wrist to keep yourself upright. "Is tha' it?"

"N-No–"

"No? But that's what they'll think seeing you walk around like this, silly thing. Poor, neglected mutt, they'll say. Don't have a firm hand to keep 'er in line." Simon tuts, releasing his grip on your dress to pull something out of his back pocket. With the way he crowds into you, you can't crane your head to see what it is. "Now we can't have tha'. I spoil my girl rotten, wouldn' you say?"

"Yes. Yes but–"

"No buts, pup. Have ta stake my claim on you somehow." Something clicks. All too suddenly, you're made aware of the new weight on your neck. It tightens against the column of your throat – not enough to constrict your airways, but enough so that it hinders the way you move. "There we go. So pretty like this."

Panic seizes you, the steel fist of paralysis capturing your muscles in a vice-like clutch. Even as Simon pulls away, you're almost scared to find yourself in the nearest mirror. Scared of what you'll find dangling between your collarbones. There's no mistaking the textured leather that presses against your skin, nor the soft clink of metal hanging from it. No fooling yourself that this is all some cruel joke, not with the sick leer of satisfaction that warps his face.

Stumbling, you navigate to the bathroom and blindly turn on a light.

That cruel fuck.

"Simon," Your voice is devoid of the anger you feel roaring through your veins, circuiting through the frenzied stutter of your heart to find new passion. Instead, you sound horrified. Near hysterical, choking on your own pleas as you run back to the foyer. Your hands tug at the collar clasped around your neck, desperately searching for a buckle that will aid you in ripping it off, despite seeing the lock latched right at the centre that tells of its permanence. What's more, he had it engraved with a crude variation of a dog collar tag. If lost, leave alone. Or else count your days. "S-Simon, Simon please. Fuck– take it off. Take it off, take it off! I don't want this, I don't want... This isn't funny. I'll change if that's what it takes. Please."

Snot bursts from your nose, cheeks wet with a hot mess of tears. You can't suppress the hiccups that interrupt your begging like pathetic shots to the chest, or the weak hits you beat across his pecs. If you could, then perhaps he would give your tantrum more weight.

As it stands, you're nothing but a feral creature resisting training.

"Shhh. Pets can' speak. Pets don't cry." His thumbs press to your under eyes, tamping the flow of brine that mark steady tracks from your lashes. "You'll ruin your makeup like this."

"Si–"

He stare hardens into something dangerous. Against your better judgment, you clamp your lips shut.

"That's it. You're s'good when you listen to me, pup." Once he's sure you've stopped crying, he removes his thumbs to instead push one into your mouth. You can taste the salty residue of your tears on his fingertips. "Now, this is the bes' of both worlds, see? You can go see your friends with this on. I know pets need their playtime, af'er all."

You arch your back in protest, but all that does is bring you closer to the lieutenant. He misinterprets that entirely, of course, and a small smile breaks his face like you've agreed to his terms. A heavy palm pats your ass.

"S'jus' so you don't forget who you belong to." He chuckles. "An' if your friends like the idea, then I have a few friends for them."

You make it one block before hightailing back home.

Nothing in you wanted to give that bastard the satisfaction, but he made it so that whatever you chose to do – stay home or leave wearing a symbol of his ownership – he'd end up triumphant. Naturally, then, you opted for the lesser of two evils: to leave his vicinity immediately. Besides, you'd promised your girls you'd see them after going AWOL the past fortnight, and you knew you'd get an earful if you decided to reschedule at the last moment.

You thought you would convince them it was a bet. That the collar is just some silly joke you have to bear for the day after a football match didn't go in your favour.

But you make it one block before a tradie on his lunch break catcalls you (you about that freaky ting, beautiful?) and decide to change course completely.

You arrive back at your flat without further incident. Ego stung from the various odd looks you received on your way, but nothing as egregious as being singled out as a freak in the midst of a crowd occurs again.

Still, your hands shake as you push your key into its slot.

Which progress to full body tremors as you turn it in place.

Thankfully, Simon isn't waiting on you on the other side of the door. He sits, manspreading on the couch instead, focus zeroed in on the telly that broadcasts Fulham v Man City. When he doesn't look away, you allow yourself to hope he hadn't heard you come in. But it's a naive pool to place your faith in. Nothing escapes the man, and soon enough, his tone of humoured indifference shatters the silence you've been precariously trying to keep.

"Miss me 'lready?"

A wretched sulk, pit of anger hollowing out anew. You swiftly snatch your laptop from the breakfast bar before storming to your room, making sure to lock the door firmly behind you.

The website is bookmarked. Taunting. Sublet your home as a safehouse for our armed forces. Serve your country and help soldiers find refuge. You would laugh if you weren't so single-minded, typing in your email and password upon being prompted to. You don't have to deal with this shit any longer, nor do you intend to. If you remember correctly, there had been a way to report any problems you face. If you phrase yours right, you might just get Simon pulled from your services.

Good dick be damned.

But when you hit enter to sign in, an error message blinks in red.

Account does not exist.

Which is fine. Shit like this happens all the time. There's no reason to work yourself into a panic, you probably just used the wrong email.

So you try your alternate. Account does not exist.

It feels unlikely, but maybe you'd created it under your school email to give yourself credibility. Only–

Account does not exist.

Your blood pressure is no doubt sky high by now. Other symptoms of stress already start to wrack through you – blurry vision, chest aches, difficulty breathing. Your hands sweat excessively as you dig for the customer care number you're sure exists somewhere, efforts impaired by the ever-present weight of the collar around your neck. You wonder if Simon can smell your anxiety like a predator does its prey. If he's in the other room, salivating, waiting for you to wobble out of your room to go for the kill. Some part of you – a needlessly paranoid part – rests on the conclusion that this is somehow his fault too.

Your phone already rings in an outgoing call once you blink back to the present. While you've been functioning on autopilot, you must have found a number to call that related close enough to your issue.

And your suspicion is confirmed when an automated voice picks up. You are currently... second... in line.

It takes five minutes. When a placating woman speaks up amidst the nauseating music they have queued, you can hardly contain yourself from word-vomiting onto her. Safehouse signup. Lost account. Need to report an issue. Please. It's urgent.

"Okay ma'am. If you could give me your name, I'll be happy to find the source of your problem today." You can't spell it out any faster. "Alright. One moment, please."

"O-okay." You sniffle miserably.

"I see. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it seems that you've been pulled from the program after a complaint was lodged against you. Unfortunately I can't provide more detail than that, but if you need anything else, I would be happy to assi–"

You hang up. The poor thing doesn't need to hear the incensed scream that tears from the deepest parts of you, or the following crack as you chuck your cell at the wall. She'd done what she could. It isn't her fault. It was that self-serving bastard that had you blacklisted from the only thing keeping you financially afloat. It is that that self-serving bastard that continues to occupy space inside your home, despite having no real right to it now.

The tantrum isn't near cathartic enough to unfetter you from your prison of aggravation, and you continue to take it out on everything in your near radius. Your duvet and pillows. The lotion you keep by your beside table. Your own skin, nails piercing into the soft flesh of your palms.

And especially the collar constricting your throat, like vines that tighten at the first sign of struggle.

You have to get this collar off. Even if you fail at everything else, you have to get this collar off.

Scrambling off your bed, you turn your room upside down looking for a bobby pin or a knife. One is unquestionably the safer bet, but you know you'll sit for hours trying to pick the lock that keeps you shackled – so when you find the boxcutter sitting at the bottom of your junk drawer, you immediately take it to your neck.

Just as Simon barges into your room.

You're so far gone, you don't even question how this must look to him. In fact, it doesn't occur to you that you locked your door, and that the only way he could've gotten in is by having a replica of your key. No. You merely twist away from the all-encompassing hold he wraps around your arms, determined to keep the boxcutter away from his confiscation until you can slice through the leather.

But you're crying. Visibly, alarmingly unstable. And Simon's breaths are a little faster than normal, faltering in a way they only do when he's close to climax. He must be worried, which is a funny thought, seeing as he's the reason you're in this mess.

"Alright thas– that's enough of that." He grunts after managing to pry the blade from your hand. You hardly mourn the loss, rather crumbling in on yourself as your sobbing escalates. No longer frustrated, nor determined. Just primed into a suffocating panic attack.

Somewhere in your auditory periphery, you hear the clinking of glass. It doesn't register until he holds a vial of lavender extract you keep under your nose, forcing you to inhale the medicinal aroma. Soon enough, your mouth opens to swallow gulps of unscented air alongside it, and the imposed breathing exercise calms you to a point of blubbering calm.

(For someone so apathetic, you admit he handled that expertly.)

That isn't the end of it, though. Moments later, you're lifted off your feet. He cradles you in both arms as he makes his way to your bed, sitting up against the headboard and placing you on his lap. Safe. Undisturbed.

You say nothing, pressing your wet face into his shirt. For comfort, first and foremost, but the makeup that'll undoubtedly stain the white fabric is an added bonus.

"Know this is hard for y'to understand, pup." Simon begins. "Hard for you ta wrap your head around ownership after bein' alone for s'long. I won't punish you for tha'."

"Y-You don't own me." You accuse.

He shakes his head in response, like your mind is truly as little as he claims. Like you're a dog, complete with two ears and a tail, and he plucked you off the street on the condition that you heel.

If anything, he's the stray.

"Oh, but I do." A large hand rubs circles on your back. Never have you been so conflicted, so torn between leaning in and biting back. "Just don't see it yet, pet. Bu' you will, in time. And in the meanwhile, we'll establish some ground rules to help you adjust."

[m0chis-cafe]

Hello! This is my first time making a request, if it's okay, can I get a reader with Lillia, Rook, Vil and Leona who has recently been suffering from insomnia and anxiety about returning home (comfort in the end) Please? 😔🎀

i absolutely love this, i get horrible insomia. i gotchu♡

(edit: i ended up focusing on one more than the other in some, but both are mentioned. hope u still like it *mwah*)

reader suffering from insomnia and anxiety about returning home.. ⋆⑅˚₊

word count: 1.5k

warnings: mentioning of anxiety, and panic attacks (there will be major comfort though), sitting in laps, kissing, joking to help, mentioning of what happens in each of the characters books (i hope yall have read em before but js in case)

characters: leona, rook, vil, and lilia

leona kingscholar🦁

you paced the botanical gardens on campus, hands tangling in your hair s you thoughts went a million miles a second..

how am i going to get home?

how is my family.. god i miss them..

if im forced to stay here.. how do i even pass these crazy magic classes?

do the people here ive come to know even want me here or are they forced to cause i cant leave..

every new thought was another anxiety that just caused your breath to quicken. your thoughts were flooded with negatives.. if you had magic this is what youd assume a magic blot would feel like.. so much negative emotions piling into you all at once.

you eventually sat below a tree, knees curled to your chest as you tried to calm yourself down. it didnt help that you hadent slept in days, insomnia only getting worse since coming to nightraven.

yet no matter what you did your breaths wouldnt calm, your hands kept shaking, and you couldnt hear or see straight. you almost jumped right out of your skin as you felt hands grab your own that covered your face. looking up you saw brown hair and ears.. leona?

his voice made its way to you eventually, "herbavore? herbavore.. seriously c'mon your worrying me. ruggie said you ran off but i didnt think itd be this bad." he mumbled to himself before his hands slipped dwon to your biceps, "hey, listen to me." he spoke firmly.

your eyes eventually meet him, your breaths calmling slightly at his presence. taking large breaths through your lips as you looked up at him, arms shaking in his hold. "dont fall out on me now, we need you." he spoke lowly as he scopped you up with ease, placing you betwen his legs, "your alright now herbivore, whatevers going on in that head of yours, its gonna be alright, yea?" he placed a kiss on your forhead allowng you time to breath normally.

when your breaths calmed and body began to calm, you sighed and leaned more into his body, "thank you.. leona". he chuckled deeply, sloching more down the tree, letting you fall into his chest. "its fine kid, just glad your fine. did something happen?". your eyes widened before spilling, explaining your thoughts to him slowly, anxious to be a burden. when you ended he rolled his eyes and strted laughing.. at you?..

huh?

"you seriously think anyone here doesnt want you here? i think at this point those first years would fall apart without you, and as for finding your way home, crawley better. or ill personally kick his ass, alright herbavore?" you simply nodded your head and leaned into him smiling, "your really not as bad as they say you are.."

vil schoenheit🧺

vi had become obsessed with training for the dance competittion, day after day everyone was practicing for hours every day. you tried to be nothin bt supportive but your insomnia had only gotten worse with the recent stress of the compettition..

what will happen if we dont win?

everyone else looks so tired..

god im so tired.. when was the last time i slept multiple hours?

i wish i could just go home already..

you guys had gotten the first brea of the day, you sat against the wall between kalim and ace as they yapped about how excited they were to preform next week. listening to them had you distracted, your eyes fluttering closed.

a hand was placed on your shoulder, looking up you saw jamil crouched in front of you, "are you alright? you look terrible prefect" you heard ace and kalim repremand him for being so blunt, but you just shook your head trying to wake up, "im fine jamil.. just tired, thank you though"

he looked skeptical but quickly turned to make sure kalim was drinking water and taking a proper break. ace mumbled something under his breath that you barley couldnt catch before he stood up and walked towards vil who was with rook and epel, who were talking across the room.

you saw vil look down at ace with his arms crossed, he glanced at you as ace pointed a finger to you. vil abandoned his conversation with epel and rook, shooing away the others around you, "why wouldnt you say that you havent been sleeping, thats not proper conditions for you to be proforming in prefect."

"im fine vil-", he rolled his eyes and cut you off, "you look anything but, stand" he reached a hand down to you, pulling you up from the ground. your head swam with spots when you rose too quickly, stumbling into vil.

he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you up, "poision.. is somethng truley wrong?" you looked up at him, eyes wide as he read you like a book. he quickly took your hand and dragged you out of the practice room and into the lounge at pomefiore.

he sat you down in one of the chairs and crouched in fron tof you, holding your face in his hands, "speak to me.." you sighed before explaining what had been happening, the stresses and not sleeping, the thoughts of never being able to go home.

he sighed and stood, sitting beside you and tugging you into his side, "i wish you would speak up when this happens, you know that id never wish to add to your burdens." he placed a kiss to your forhead before continuing, "we will find a way for you to go home, no matter how bitter sweet itll be, i do hope we find a way for you to go back and forth.. we would all miss you terribly here.. especially me." at his words you sighed and relaxed into his side, "ill find a way back, i could never just leave you guys.. especially you.

rook hunt🪶

you thought itd be easy to hide your emotions recently, but knowing rook he proably could already see through your mind..

i hope i can go home soon..

i wonder if time has passed back home and if my family is worried about me..

i need to stop stresing, i havent slept at all recently

these magic classes are getting harder with the lack of magic

you thought you kept a pretty good mask on arround others, yet as soon as you were walking from potions alone with rook he spoke up, "mon cheri.. have you been sleeping enough? your beauty is as blinding as always, alas you seem more tired than usual."

you shouldve known better than to try to keep something from him, he finds out everything sooner rathar than latter, "im alright, just worried about getting home, i guess its been affecting my sleep.."

"well theres no use in worrying cheri! i garuntee they will find a way to send you home! with that said i think a long rest for you is in place." he spoke cherfully as he laced your hands together and dragged you to pomefiore, you smiled at his actions and followed along.. he always here to look after me

lilia vanrough🦇

after dealing with blots from every other house, you thought hanging around diasmonia would be calming. yet as you sat in the lounge with silver, sebek, lilia, and malleus your thought still didnt stop running..

whos going to over-blot next?

will the next one be more powerful.. maybe too powerful..

i didnt have these struggles at home

even my sleep scheduals gotten worse.. late nights staying up with lilia and idia playing games have become much more often an occurance

im supposed to be relaxing, just breath..

your mind spaced out as you looked at the floor in front of you while stuck in thought. your hands tangled into your blazer sleeves as your breath quickened, your vision began to see spots before you felt a hand rest on top of your own in your lap.

"prefect, is something the matter?" your head snapped up and saw lilia who was sat beside you, a concerned look for once took over his boyish grin, "your not looking too good.. are you ill?" he placed a hand on you forhead attempting to asses if you were running a fever.

"im alright.. just missing home" you mumbled, offering him a small smile as you placed your head on his shoulder. he sighed, raisng your hand to press a kiss on the back of your hand, "well find a way for you to go back, i promise it my dear."

he wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you to lean more into him, "in the mean time, you havent been sleeping and its clear, get some rest prefect" his boyish grin returned as he pecked your cheek. he was right.. everything was gonna be ok.

you finally felt comfortble enough to fall into a deep sleep against him, with grim curled up into your lap mumbling about his dreams of tuna. surronded by people you became found of over you stay at nightraven, it wouldnt be bad to stay here, but you knew that there would be a way home.

[villainbait]

An Exercise in Solace

Pairing: Sylus x MC / fem!reader Rating: T | Teen Tags: hurt/comfort, hurt, comfort, PTSD mentions, reader has PTSD, canon sylus behavior, Summary: Today should've been like any other when you stepped into the sparring ring with Sylus, except it wasn't. Word Count: 1k

The door to Sylus’s bedroom swings open and he finds you sprawled out on his couch, holding this month’s travel magazine above your face. Your legs are thrown over one arm and you’re kicking them lazily back and forth as you turn the page. When you hear the door open, you glance over at him and pretend not to see him dressed to work out, your eyes flicking back to the glossy pages of paradise in your hands. 

“Hey, what do you think about-” 

Sylus plucks the travel magazine from your hands and you pout up at him. “You can choose where we go after we practice today, kitten.” To argue with Sylus is useless, because both of you know in the end who will win the verbal spar. You sigh, rolling off the couch reluctantly and popping to your feet. 

“...Fine.” You go get ready and prepare yourself for the hours ahead. 

You meet up with him again in the training room and find Sylus already warmed up. Thinking that was a little odd but dismissing it as his usual eagerness to spend time with you, you let him walk you through your paces. By the time he’s satisfied you’re ready to enter the ring in the middle of the room, you’re already tired.

“I won’t go easy on you today, sweetie.” Sylus purrs and seems playful as the two of you face each other, but there’s a slight edge to his tone.

It makes you tense and a little wary. 

As the two of you begin to spar, the exchange of blows seems routine as usual. You find yourself blocking and dodging most of his attacks, but you’re clearly unfocused and not taking this seriously at all. You miss the way Sylus’s face hardens in frustration and he turns away after deflecting a blow from you with ease. 

“Let’s make a deal, kitten.” 

You perk up at the mention of a deal, suddenly more animated than you were a moment ago. When he offers you the thing you’ve been begging for from him for weeks, you jump at the chance without caring what it might cost you.

Once the deal has been made he turns back to face you, but his expression is unreadable. 

The moment he rushes you and you barely defend yourself from his onslaught is when the realization starts to sink in that this might not be one of Sylus’s many games anymore. Before, Sylus had been kind, gentle when the two of you spent time together like this. 

Loving, in the way he had taught you.

You dance backward, desperate to avoid his long reach and trip, hitting the ground hard. Sylus doesn’t even try to catch you like he usually would, his gaze downcast as he closes the distance you had created. 

“Get up,” he says tersely. Your ears are still ringing from where he’d clipped you on the jaw seconds ago. “Get up.” There's an edge of panic to the sharpness of his tone that makes you angry.

“Give me a-” 

“Will they?” he taunts, but he’s not smiling as he’s closing in. “Will the wanderers wait for you while you catch your breath? Do you think they would be as polite as I am, sweetie?” 

You growl and push yourself unsteadily to your feet and stagger sideways; catching yourself with one hand on your knee. Sylus tamps down his pride that you stood up so quickly after the blow he dealt you, knowing that many men wouldn’t have gotten back up again at all. You’re so weak and it eats away at him how reckless you are sometimes, how invincible you think you are. He needs you to be strong so he doesn’t have to worry about you. This is all he can do when you insist on putting yourself in danger or going into no hunt zones without him where he cannot protect you. A gnawing fear grips him at just how close you had come to dying last time. What if you weren't so lucky next time?

What if—

“Come at me again.” Gone were the pet names, the cajoling, the easy, teasing smiles he wore during your practice matches.

The pounding in your head makes it hard for you to think, but you’re angry with him and with yourself. As much as you hate to admit it, Sylus is right. The wanderers and wanted men you hunted wouldn’t afford you the same courtesy Sylus does and would continue to hurt innocent people while you could do nothing. The thought of not being able to even save yourself consumes you and you attack Sylus recklessly. It takes him by surprise, and the two of you are fighting for real. You realize you can’t land a blow on him and it’s infuriating. 

Your vision blurs and you swallow the urge to scream as the flashbacks of all the times you hadn’t been fast enough, strong enough, just enough to save all of those people. How, even last week, the memory of how you had almost died if Sylus hadn’t found you in time threatens to choke you with disappointed rage. 

He feels your punch to his stomach but there’s no strength behind it, your head bowed and body trembling violently. Sylus catches you the moment your legs give out and gathers you into the safety of his arms. 

The pang of guilt Sylus feels is worse than any shot to the gut he’s ever taken. He pushed you too far, too fast, and he knows it.

He lowers the both of you to the ground and you find yourself cradled in his lap, your fingers digging into his skin as you cling onto him and sob. The comfort Sylus offers you is paltry at best, but he tries as his hand awkwardly soothes you as gently as he can manage. His fingers trace over your back in a slow, comforting pattern and he doesn't know if it's working when you cry harder. His murmured words against your hair are filled with soft apologies and the tender promises of whatever you wanted would be yours, no matter the cost.

Sylus makes you look at him once you calm down and his words drip with sincerity and conviction. 

“I can’t give you back what you’ve already lost, kitten, but I can help you protect what’s yours going forward.”

[stardustlixie]

Okay hear me out...

Ot8 cuddling with the reader for the first time they have their head on his chest and his heart starts going crazy cause he's so nervous and he gets all shy and embarrassed ears getting all red 🤭🤭

Ugh I go crazyyy for shy skz

Okay that's all for now :))

~cookiecreates🍪

omg okay. super fluffy scenario. shy skz will actually decay my brain someday I adore them.

I'm gonna do this is a sort of hcs format so if that's not what you wanted, sorry!

chan

• shy baby. this man is a shy baby through and through.

• chan will always be someone to cherish his significant other and he will take everything seriously, every little milestone

• so early on in your relationship, you're at his place for the first time, you both hang out and watch a movie, he's no stranger to touch but you bet he's gonna be super surprised when your hands suddenly wrap around his frame and your head comes to rest on his chest

• the effect would be immediate, poor baby's heartbeat would quicken and all coherent thoughts will leave his brain

• you know how chan's blush starts from his ears before it can reach his face? yeah his ears will be suuuuper red. it's like he's frozen in time, you can see him gulping and you can't stop the laugh that escapes you.

• your giggles are what finally snaps him out of his daze "channie what's wrong?"

• "wha- oh. no. nothing." his arms wrap around your frame and their is a stupid dorky grin on his face the entire time. he does not pay even a second's attention to the movie, too busy memorizing how your cuddles feel to notice the screen. the boy is smitten.

lino

• you know he isn't a very expressive individual at first and it takes him time to open up, he's not the one to be super touchy either so you're very doubtful whether or not you should initiate anything.

• you see him getting jittery offstage after a concert, he must have been overwhelmed, you're new to this, to him, but he's your boyfriend nonetheless and the concern you're feeling isn't making this any easier.

• you drag him away from the staff and crowd and take him back to his hotel room before the rest of the boys, by the time you get him there you know for a fact that he's having a panic attack, he sinks into his bed and it doesn't matter if the most you've touched him is a few hugs to greet him, you wrap your arms around the boy's frame and pull him close.

• if it's two minutes or twenty you don't know, but you separate the moment you're sure he's calmed down, not wanting to make him uncomfortable

• "if you're fine i'll leave, sorry if i kinda over stepped your boundaries there."

• you're very surprised when he just opens up his arms, inviting you to lay down with him, and you smile at his nonverbal invitation before joining him.

• if the shy smile on his face didn't tell you better, then you'd think he's having another panic attack with the way his heartbeat is rising, you can feel it with your head on his chest. none of you says much, but words aren't really needed.

changbin

• one look at this man will tell any sane person that he is the best cuddle giver EVER, changbin is very affectionate, he is touchy. that's how he expresses his love

• but you're not really a very open person, it took him so long to actually get to the point of dating you so he's afraid he might do something wrong or make you uncomfortable if he rushed into his way of expressing adoration, so he mostly just settles for words of affirmation and don't get him wrong, he loves the small smiles and the words he gets in return, but he's craves physical affection nonetheless.

• but one evening he's sprawled out on the couch after a shower, and the power of a curly haired, bare faced binnie isn't unknown to anyone and boy is he surprised when he suddenly has his partner laying on him like he's a body pillow.

• changbin.exe has stopped working.

• his arms come up to hold you in place and you rest your face on his shoulder. "hey binnie", "hey baby" he chuckles, you can hear the surprise and the nervousness in his voice so you just dig your face into the croom of his neck and make yourself comfortable.

• felix has to hear him rant about this for weeks after.

hyunjin

• hyunjin isn't the type to date someone unless he's really invested, but he also isn't the type to do something in a rush. but the boy is very much touch starved.

• it's a painting date at your place, do the paintings you makes for each other go well? yes. but do you also end up smearing paint on each other for the sake of it? also yes. it's almost like a toddler playfight.

• you adore the boy, but he sucks at initiation, so it's you who initiates the kiss that turns into a make out session afterwards, that ends up with you straddling him, but instead of getting off when you separate, you just choose to lie down half on him and half on the bed.

• safe to say the boy is surprised, because it takes him a whole minute to process before his arms come up to hold you. his face is sooo red.

• "hey love. you're blushing a concerning amount." he just whines out a 'shut up' and makes himself comfortable, he never quite gets over the flustered state.

han

• hannie is not a man of patience, he is also not someone with a lot of time. that means you've been dating him for a month and you've been closer to fucking than you've been to spending actual quality time with him.

• which leads to this, you came here to find him working on his song, he gives you a quick greeting but you're not taking that, he's startled when he feels you taking his headphones off and giving him a pointed stare. "han jisung." "hey baby..."

• a minute later you have him beside you on his bed, a movie playing on the laptop he was previously working on. he whines about needing to finish the song but you just tell him to push you off if he dares. he doesn't.

• your head is on his shoulder and if you didn't know any better you'd think his anxiety was the reason his heart was beating so fast.

felix

• sweet sweet baby that he is, he's probably the one who initiated the affection, early on too. but considering your sort of closed off personality, poor baby was sooo hesitant when he did. you weren't very touchy, definitely not as much as him and he didn't want to ruin anything.

• so he was very careful with how he pulled you close to himself, face red the whole time. he was very close to losing himself in an abyss of overthinking when he heard you chuckle, "you're adorable."

• and when you wrapped your arms back around him was the moment you signed up for a lifetime of koala felix. good luck ever getting him off of you now.

seungmin

• he isn't very affectionate. we know. he expresses love with bickering and insults more than he does by normal means. so no surprise that personality trait is apparent when you're trying to solve a puzzle with him.

• "oh lord you're a fucking idiot!" he says when he finds you trying to make something funny out of a few of the thousand pieces of the puzzle. "you're dating said idiot though?" "you being my idiot does not negate the fact that you are an idiot" "whatever loverboy, admit you have a soft spot for me!" "nuh uh."

• maybe it's the way his curls fall over his eyes, or the way his glasses sit at the bridge of his nose, or the involuntary expression of concentration, but something prompts you to push him back on the couch and take a seat beside him, arms coming up around his waist to hold him in place.

• for the first time in his life, seungmin does not have something snarky to say, which surprises you enough to check up on him and find him blushing profusely as he stares at the floor, small smile playing on his lips. "you're real quiet now loverboy." "baby.."

• "huh, wasn't i a fucking idiot just now?" you giggle as you boop his nose, his hands coming up to wrap around your shoulders. "you're baby. for now."

innie

• you weren't even dating when it first happened, you were having a sleepover with the boys and you woke up shivering, in half sleepy wits you decided to snuggle into innie's side while he was asleep.

• he woke up before you, and was in awe when he found the home you'd made beside him, your face completely relaxed, quite comfy with your head on his chest apparently, half of your body was on top of him, so even if he wanted to, he couldn't move without waking you up.

• he just lay there smiling to himself until some of the boys woke up. you were later given photo proof of your sleepy actions by a very amused felix.

• and that's what prompted jeongin to confess.

[bkglovergirl]

♡𓂃Water guns

Bakugou X Reader

𓏲Aizawa gives you and katsuki a second chance and with that it leads to a downward spiral of things.

Word count; 4.4k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

“I’m giving you two a second chance.” Aizawa is in front of you and Katsuki, holding your hero suits. Katsuki had gone to Aizawa privately and asked for the second scenario, claiming he trusted you and that this whole situation wasn't on you. He threatened Aizawa not to tell you he went to him before Aizawa threw him out of the room. “A pair from class 1B is the villain. You won’t get to know who the pair is and this training is taken place in a facility outside of the school.” He tosses the cases at you. “Get changed and we’ll head over to the facility.” 

All of class 1A steps off the bus. Everyone is here so Aizawa can prove a point. Mess up and ask for a chance. The entire class has to be behind for you guys to get that chance. You and Katsuki are in your suits and so is everyone else, Aizawa is not so mean and is letting others train if you and Katuski get this done quickly. This facility is owned by Endeavor, it has everything you can possibly imagine as he needed to be the best at this as well. You and Katsuki are set up in a house? “What the hell.” You look around. “Okay, we need to set up a plan. We have no idea who these people are and this domain.”

“Let’s just fuckin run out there!”

“No dumbass!” the peace that you and Katsuki created for a moment is shattered as you two bicker back and forth for God knows how long. “What’s that smell?” You look around frantically, have the “villains” already found you both? Do they have an advantage because of Aizawa that you don’t know about? 

“Blue flames?” You look at Katsuki and follow his eyes. Blue flames are slowly swallowing the door. Smoke fills the room quickly, and you panic, having a coughing attack.

“Are they trying to kill us?! They are taking this way too seriously!” Katsuki grabs your hand and you quickly tighten your grip, He brings you up the stairs and breaks open a window. “We are not paying for that.” you joke but quickly shut up as bakugou lets go and jumps out the window. You look out, “What the hell?!”

“Jump!”

“No what the fuck!”

“Jump, I’ll catch you!” You jump, shut your eyes, and jump. He catches you. “Why are your eyes closed?” You look at him and laugh. “Y/N, you are so stupid.” He blushes. 

“Ok put me down.” you look back at the house while he puts you down slowly, “Holy shit ten more seconds and we would have been flamed... Katsuki you don’t think…?”

“I don’t know, it’s Endeavor. This is a pretty good-built facility.” An alarm goes off and a big slamming sound is heard on the other side of the training area. “Fuck!” You both run quickly toward the sound before a wall of blue flames becomes between you and Katsuki. You look around frantically before seeing a man standing on top of a building. He has black hair and purple bruising all over his skin. Is he smiling at you? “Y/N?!”

“I’m okay!” the man laughs, jumping off the building and landing close to you. The blue flames start growing closer to you. He’s mumbling something along the lines of distracting you away from the rest, and this will be an easy kill. You take a deep breath and grow a longleaf pine under you and Katsuki, it brings you both up above the fire and lets you jump onto a building and you run. You see debris and smoke on the other side, it'll take under a minute to get there, “So close…” you mutter. A scorching burn rises up your arm. He got your right arm. You quickly wrap it in a longleaf pine, it won’t stop the pain but it will stop the fire. Your path gets blocked again by blue flames. “Fuck!” You are getting way too dehydrated and dizzy which means you are gonna struggle to use your quirk. 

“Y/N!” 

“Go help the others and then come get me!” Katsuki for the first time hesitates, and he doesn't like that. He listens to you and runs to the others, his heart beating faster than it ever has. Smoke fills your lungs, and you look around for the villain. He stands in front of you a couple of feet away with the same smile. 

“I’ll make it easier on him and make sure there isn't anything he has to come back for.” Flames come your way, and you make a shield; it withers just a little enough to burn your cheek. 

“Fuck.” you move and run. It’s just straight-up fire and smoke. It’s hurting your lungs. It’s hurting your plants which means you have a useless quirk. “I’m going to die…” You mutter. You are still running toward the group and you see Shoto in the distance. You see Katsuki behind him and smile before you feel a wave of heat. You don’t know what happened but you blacked out. Katsuki watches as flames engulf you. He freezes. He watches as Todoroki and Midoriya run towards you.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

All you hear is beeping, talking, and silence. You can’t see anything, so all you can do is listen. You can’t understand the voices that come around every once in a while, it’s all blurry. Eventually, you open your eyes. “She’s Awake! Aizawa she’s awake!”

“Loud...” you mutter as your eyes get used to the bright light. Then, you see a blurry figure with green hair walks out of the room. You feel the warmth on your hand and you slowly look down. Your right arm is covered in bandages and someone is holding your hand. You look back up and see Shoto. He’s smiling at you softly, it looks like he hasn't slept in days. Midoriya walks back in with Aizawa and Katsuki. Katsuki walks up to you quickly, his face is flushed and he’s breathing heavily. He looks at you and Todoroki and stops moving. Aizawa walks up to you and sighs.

“It’s always something with you.” You let out a small laugh but stop quickly once it hurts. “Do you remember anything?” You look over your body. Your legs are also covered in bandages, and you can feel the uncomfortable bandages on your cheek and chest. 

“The fight that happened today? Some um… Villains?” You feel Shoto squeeze your hand softly. “And I guess I got hit.”

“Y/N that attack happened over two weeks ago,” Aizawa admits. You notice all the boys look at you worriedly except for Katsuki, he’s looking down.

“What?” “You are correct you did get badly hurt, but that attack happened two weeks ago. Bakugou, Midoriya, and Todoroki all have been taking turns watching over you and some of your classmates have been stopping by and also taking care of you. You kept stirring but… You never fully woke up. We got concerned you um… never would.” With that Aizawa brings his hand to his face and he continues to speak. “You have severe wounds. The ones on your cheek, chest, and arms will leave scaring. Your legs we aren't certain if they will yet.” He looks around at the boys and then looks back at you. “I’m happy you're safe. I’ll come back to check on you with the nurse later.” he walks out and you hear him sniffle. You smile and give your attention back to the boys. Midoriya is the first to speak.

“We were so worried about you… I thought… Never mind that!” he smiles. I should go tell the other!” He runs out. Shoto is next to speak, and unbeknownst to him, he had cut off Katsuki from speaking. 

“I am so sorry. It’s all my fault. The villain that attacked you knows me and my family… and he got word of the training and you… with how close we are he figured you were an easy target… I am so sorry!” he slowly picks up your hand and kisses your knuckle then slowly rests his forehead on your hand. “Please forgive me. Please.”

“Of course Shoto…” You smile. “This isn't your fault, I don't blame you, and see I’m okay!” you regret raising your voice but whatever you have to do for Shoto. Shoto picks his head back up and gives you an unconvincing look. “Shoto please believe me. I am okay.” you both stare at each other before Shoto finally smiles. Katsuki coughs interrupting the moment. “Shoto you should go get some rest and food.” he goes to interject but you stop him, “Come visit me after but go take care of yourself please.” He nods and stands up. Walking out he gives a glare to Bakugou and exits the room. You look at Katsuki. He doesn't look at you. “So… guess I have to make up all the meals I couldn't make you the past two weeks.” You joke and laugh, He doesn't laugh and you sit up reaching for him. 

“Stop doing that!” He gets close to you and grabs your hand, laying you back down. You look at him confused. “Stop acting like everything is perfectly fine! You almost died for fuck sake!” he sits down on the bed looking at you. “It’s not okay.”

“Katsuki…”

“I could have lost you then what?!” You winch and he slumps. 

“I’m alive and awake now, so let’s not dwell on what could have happened, okay?” Katsuki stares at you, and your heart skips a beat. Slowly, he leans down and places his hand on the cheek that has the bandage. He rubs his thumb over it slowly before kissing you. You are surprised, obviously, but you kiss back. He’s just as surprised as you are with the fact he kissed you and the fact you kissed back. You go to sit up to lean into him more but winch from the pain, causing him to move away breaking the kiss. “Katsuki…”

“Guys, look!” Katsuki moves away from the bed completely, and the class piles into the room after Midoriya. You smile at them, and they smile at you. Katsuki leaves the room.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

After a few days, you are able to go back to the dorm room and go back to your normal life besides the obvious scaring on your body and the sharp pain you get sometimes. Shoto helped you get back into your dorm. “I can open the door myself, you weirdo.”

“Why won’t you let me help you.” He opens the door.

“Because if you are going to help me, I’ll complain to feel less guilty.” You smile before laughing. You walk into your dorm, and he follows. Katsuki is sitting on the couch, looking at you both. His arms are crossed. “God, Dad, he brought me home on time.” You joke, but clearly, he could care less about your jokes. Shoto doesn't get the hint of Katsuki’s annoyance and walks into your kitchen. 

“What do you want? I’ll make you lunch.”

“I can make her lunch. I am her husband after all.” He stands up.

“A good husband would already have food ready for her and would have gotten her from the nurse's room.” Katsuki pauses for a moment. He’s stunned. “So Y/N what would you want?” you look between Shoto and Katsuki before walking into the kitchen. Katsuki takes that as you choosing Shoto and his throat burns and his stomach nots. He’s fuming and all he can manage is walking into his room and slamming the door. “Such a baby.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

It’s like Todoroki is doing this on purpose. For the past week he’s done nothing but be a wedge between him and you and it’s pissing Katsuki off. He’s trying to do this for you but Todoroki is always just one step ahead. Katsuki is known to be angry the majority of the time but this feels different. It fueling each minute and he feels like he’s about to burst. He tries taking it out during training but it eases only for a second and this confuses Katsuki. In the past it’s always worked for him so why the fuck isn't it working now?! He grabs his towel and wipes his face before getting himself a sip of water. He takes a deep breath. Why isn't this working? He hears a familiar laugh and looks around. He sees you and of fucking course Todo fucking roki. He puts down his water bottle and towel. He rushes out of the training room and goes up to you both. “The fuck are you guys doing together? Again.” You go to explain but Shoto stops you. Katsuki doesn't like this very much.

“Why does it matter to you?”

“Because it fucking does?!” Seriously who does this dude think he is? “Why can’t you go bother your own wife and leave mine the fuck alone?!” 

“Why should I leave her alone? All the times you've left her alone it causes her to be endangered.”

“So it’s my fault?!” 

“You didn't get to her quick enough during our training.” Todroki points a finger at him, “And your dumbass left her during the attack so she got hurt!”

“Don’t point that finger at me! It was your dumbass family drama that caused her to get hurt in the first damn place!” With this Todoroki steps closer to him and his fire quirk is activated.

“Say’s the one who froze when we needed to go save her.” You look at Katsuki. Katsuki doesn't look at you. For the first time, Katsuki bites his cheek and walks back into the training room. With a satisfied smirk, Shoto looks at you. Your arms are crossed and you are pissed looking back at Shoto. His smirk drops. “What?” you shake your head and walk away. “What?!”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

It’s late. You've already made dinner, and it’s starting to get cold. Shoto had brought you to the dorm against your wishes, and you slammed the door in his face in retaliation. Your guess is that Katsuki is still in the training room. You sigh, looking down at his dinner, before grabbing a blanket from the living room and walking out onto the balcony. You don’t know how much time has passed but it is quiet and the only lights outside are the streetlights. “What are you doing outside?” You flinch and look at Katsuki, he’s leaning against the door.

“It’s nice out.” 

‘The heat is on and you left the door open.” You roll your eyes and look away from him.

“I left your food on the counter.”

“Thanks.” He walks off into his bedroom, completely ignoring the food. Confused, you stand up and walk towards his bedroom, stopping him from shutting his door. 

“Excuse me?”

“You left the blanket outside and the door open.”

“Don’t ignore the obvious bullshit dude.” He just stares at you. “What is with you?! I made you dinner and you are just gonna ignore it?!”

“I’m sorry I thought you would have preferred making that shit for Shoto.” He mocks his name and you glare at him. 

“So what I do for you has been shit?” He shrugs and you drop your hand from off the door. “Whatever. I don’t know what your fucking issue is but glad to know everything I have done has been pointless.”

“Oh please we all know you wanted those points to switch and be with Todoroki.”

“Are you for real right now? All my actions have shown that's what I want?! Really?!”

“Yeah. Really.” He shuts the door in your face. You stand there astonished before cleaning up Katsuki’s dinner and putting it away in the fridge. You try to convince yourself you are only doing it to prevent food from going to waste, but the convincing doesn't work. Despite how mad you are, you want to make sure he eats okay.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

For days, you and Katsuki have ignored each other. People have asked each of you, and you respectfully shake your head no and say it’s nothing. Katsuki, on the other hand, gives them death glares. You still make food for him, and it'll go uneaten. When you give up hope that he won't eat, he eventually does, so you keep making him food. You always wondered how your family ignored each other when growing up and you never understood how they could do it so easily. You understand to an extent, that the act of ignoring each other isn't an issue. Katsuki does most of the work fully pretending you aren't even real. The mental pain of ignoring each other is affecting you more than you like and Katsuki feels the same. 

Two weeks pass, and it’s the fireworks festival. The school does this annually, putting on a grand display and making it a whole day thing. You and the girls are in Momo’s room getting ready. The girls have really been helping you during this whole situation and the bond you share now is something so important to you. “We are gonna make you look stunning Y/N! We can use all my stuff. Yes, even the very expensive stuff of course!” 

“Thanks, Momo but why would I do this for a guy who won’t even glance at me?”

“Oh, honey, this is NOT for him; it’s for you, silly!” The girls continue getting you ready. Kyoka and Ochaco work on your makeup, Mina on your hair, and Momo on the best outfit for you to wear. After a few hours, you are ready! The girls start taking pictures and start giving you compliments and in all honesty, you just wanted to go to the festival already.

“Is he gonna be there?”

“Who cares?” You did. Except you weren't going to say that. You walk up to the full-length mirror and look at yourself.

 “Do I even look good with this scar on my arm?” You’ve fully healed over the past few weeks thanks to recovery, girl, but your right arm has scarring, and you've been slightly insecure about it. Doesn't help that the outfit you are wearing shows it off completely 

“It makes you look sexy!” 

“Whatever you say, Mina.” You smile, “should we get going?”

The weather is perfect, to say the least. The school has rented out a nice park, full of flowers and trees, right next to a river, where on the other side, they’ll light the fireworks. Booths are set up for food, drinks, and fun things to do. You and the girls are going back and forth on what to do first. You watch as a few say drinks and food while others say games first. You just watch not having a strong opinion for each until someone catches your eye. Behind Momo you see Shoto waving at you, and you smile waving back. He walks towards you but halfway someone shoves into him. Katsuki keeps walking not even acknowledging what he did. “Hi Y/N.”

“Hi, Shoto.” Just like how Katsuki ignores you, Shoto chooses to ignore his existence.

“Oh hey, Todoroki! Are you here with anyone?” Ochaco asks as the girls look at him.

“No.”

“I have a great idea!” This could be true or the worst thing Mina says. “We should go to one of the games, and Todoroki and Momo can battle to see who the better spouse is!”

“That’s actually not a bad idea and would be fun to watch,” Kyoka says.

“You down for joining us Shoto?” You look at him and he looks away from Momo and looks at you.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Don’t go easy on me.” Momo smiles at him. 

“Don’t plan on it and you should pick the game.” You walk over to Ochaco and wrap your arms around hers, you guys start walking around to find a game. Momo eventually settles on ring toss, you sit down at the water gun booth to watch them. Momo and Shoto stand next to eachother with five rings each. The first round starts and of course Momo wins. “Another one.”

“Shoto we are not gonna sit here and watch until you win.”

“Yes we are Y/N shush.” And the second round starts, this time the bottles move side to side making it more difficult. You feel the presence of someone sit next to you, You ignore it at first before you hear a grumble. You look back to see a random student with his friend, you stand up quickly and apologize for being in his way.

“Don’t take up a spot if you arent gonna do anything.”

“She was waiting for me, so you gotta move it.” Katsuki puts an arm around you and you look over at the group seeing if anyone notices. You lock eyes with Ochaco and she gives you a thumbs up. The boys apologize and run off not wanting to deal with Katsuki. You take a seat again and Katsuki hands money to the stall worker and sits next to you. “One game, one winner.” you face your water gun rolling your eyes.

“Whatever you say.” It was not one game, it was six and the group stopped watching Shoto’s game and huddled around you guys. “What happened to one game!”

“You keep cheating!”

“How?” 

“You keep shooting me with water!” You laugh. 

“FUCK!” Katsuki slumps back, you stand up ad cheer. You turn to Shoto giving him a high five and turn back to Katsuki. He stares for a beat then stands up and walks off.

“What is his problem?” Mina asks, you shake your head.

“I don’t know but let’s go find Izuku.” The hours pass and for others it went by very quickly but for you it didnt. The whole time you spent looking around for Katsuki and you couldnt find him. 

“Hurry up lets go find the perfect spot!” The fireworks start in fifteen and honestly you werent feeling it anymore.

“I think I’m just gonna go back to the dorm guys..” you were met with a lot of disergrement. 

“Are you sure Y/N?”

“Yeah I’m not feeling well.” You lie.

“Oh let me walk you back.” Shoto goes to grab your arm but you step back, “No it’s okay. Stay.” You give them all a smile, say your goodbyes and walk back.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃

“Katsuki?” Nothing. You sigh and shut your dorm door. Luckly for you, your dorm faces right where they are gonna be setting off fireworks. You brush out your hair and walk to your balcony. “Cold…” you mumble shutting the sliding door and resting your body on the railing. You do the math in your head, it took you five minutes to get back here so that means itll be about ten minutes until they start. After some time you hear the sliding door open.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I can’t be in my own dorm now?”

“You should be out with your friends at the festival, not here.” You don’t say anything and Katsuki stands next to you, You glance at him.

“Why are you shirtless?”

“Because my wife wouldnt stop splashing me with water.”

“Stop Katsuki. I’m over this back and forth of you being mad and then not.”

“And I’m over Todoroki getting all your fucking attention. Piece it togehter Y/N.” You look at him fully.

“Me piece it together? I shouldnt have to do that? Why can’t you tell me straight up? You are so bold and loud but for some reason between us you shut down completely. It’s ridiculous.”

“Have you ever thought for one second why?”

“You rejected me Katsuki. In middle school, it was a full on embarrassment. Sorry I wasnt jumping to conclusions.”

“We were in middle school.”

“You made fucking rules when I tried getting you to take this simulation seriously.”

“Why’d you smile at Todoroki. You face him fully.

“What the fuck are you on about.” He faces you, he is red.

“During the Villian attack when you were close to the main group, you saw Todoroki and instantly smiled once you saw him.” 

“No I didnt?” You crossed your arms. Katsuki puts one hand on the railing and squeezes it. 

“Yes you did Y/N I watched you.”

“I smiled because I saw you.” his hand untenses.

“Yes Dumbass, I smiled because I saw you before I almost got killed by flames.” His hand tightens again. “What?” he stays silent so you repeat yourself again. “What?”

“For the first time I hesitated in battle.”

“So?”

“Because I thought I…” he pauses and looks down. “I thought I just watched you die and I couldn't, my brain couldnt comprehend it. For a split second all logic was out the window.”

“Where you ignoring me because of that?”

“I was ashamed.” He looks back up at you. “There goes fucking Todoroki and Deku running and there I was, frozen. Even if it was only for a second. It was a second to long. I don’t like what you do to me.” A boom goes off and the fireworks start up. The sky is full of assortment of colors. You and Katsuki both look. “I love you Y/N.” He says it not thinking you’d hear him and after this whole thing he can go back into the ignoring routine you guys established.

“I love you too.” Katsuki looks at you and you don’t look at him. He grabs your right arm and stops his movement. He stares at the scarring on your arm. You look at him before removing your arm from his hand and hug him. He squeezes you tightly before letting go and facing the railing. “You ignore me like that again and I’ll kill you.” He hugs you from behind.

“Mhm..”

“I’m serious Katsuki.” He kisses your cheek. “Fuck these fireworks.” You turn your body to face katsuki and look up at him, He looks down at you. “Kiss me.” He stares at you for a minute. “Katsuki I swear-” He cuts you off and kisses you. You wrap your arms around his neck, and with that, he picks you up and sits you on the railing. You wrap your legs around his waist and deepen the kiss.

Tags;

@andysdrafts @eyesforbkg @kukikoooo @musicbecky @mia-luvs @yoyolovesdaiki @onlykarenkun @gina239

[too-much-tma-stuff]

You Stay Away From Her (part 11)

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It was decided that the Justice League’s official channel would work on the governmental side of the GIW, laws, and PR, leaving it to the less official channels like the younger group, and Hood and Hyena to raid the bases. It wouldn’t be the best look but they couldn’t leave them any longer knowing there might be other sentient beings suffering in there. As long as the JL’s core members tacitly condemned their actions and the teams involved were sneaky it shouldn’t hinder the repeal efforts too much. Besides, constantly having to repair damaged infrastructure and replace dead staff would make keeping the GIW running very expensive.

Danny felt much better by the end of the talk. The JL was taking this much more seriously then he had feared, and they hadn’t once brought up that he might technically be a villain since his panic attack. He felt better but he was still exhausted, and he leaned against Jason’s shoulder, taking strength from his partner as the meeting wound down. Things seemed settled and he was looking forward to going home, hopefully getting some junk food and candy, and maybe some alcohol because he needed a Drink.

“Alright, with that settled there is one more thing I’d like to discuss before we adjourn the meeting,” Batman said, leaning his elbows on the table and steepling his fingers. 

Danny bit back a groan. What more could Bruce possibly want to talk about? Danny wanted to go hooome. 

“I am under the impression that Phantasm is in need of a guardian-”

“No I’m not!” Phantasm interrupted Batman, glaring at him fiercely. 

“She’s not, not really,” Hyena chuckled, shaking his head and resting a hand on her shoulder. “She’s been on her own since just a few months after her creation.”

“And it’s not like Vlad was a good guardian before that,” Ellie added. Danny nodded. 

“But needing one or not, having one might be good for you.” Danny told her, squeezing her shoulder gently. “After everything you’ve been through, having a good guardian to help take care of you while you work through it?” She hesitated, but then she nodded, Danny was grateful for her trust.

“I would be willing too-” Batman started before Hyena interrupted him. 

“No! Not you, and not Superman!” Hyena insisted, pointing an accusing finger at their end of the table. 

“It’s not up to you-” Superman started this time, sounding offended. 

“He’s my template! My only family, I trust him and I’m not going with anyone he doesn’t like,” Ellie growled at the two of them.

Reminded of how much he loved her, Danny gave her a one armed hug. He'd forgotten how ride or die she could be. “If they’d be willing, Martian Manhunter or Wonder Woman would be best. You both have powers, and experiences in common with her. But I don’t trust you with a clone,” He said, glaring at Superman. “I speak Kryptonian, I know what Kon-El means. You’re a piece of shit!” At least he had the decency to look chagrined. “And you!” Hyena pointed at Batman. “I know how you fuck up your kids. I’m dating one of your fucked up kids! You stay the hell away from her.”

Danny saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. Nightwing had rested a hand on Jason’s arm and Robin and Superboy were behind them now, Tim supporting Jason and Danny, Kon supporting him and Ellie. It took Danny a moment to realize how heavy the silence had suddenly become and process what he had just said. He looked at Jason with regret and horror, seeing Jason shake his head subtly and grab Danny’s hand. At least he wasn’t mad.

“What do you mean you're dating one of Batman’s sons?” Wonder Woman asked, soft and dangerous. 

“Oh, he didn’t tell you?” Jason was either genuinely startled or doing a good job faking it. Then he scoffed and shook his head. “What am I talking about, of course he didn’t. If he didn’t tell Nightwing I was back he wasn’t going to tell any of you. 

“Yes, I was the second Robin. About six months after Joker killed me some sort of reality altering event resurrected me and I woke up in my coffin. I dug myself out, calling for my father,” Jason said, glaring across the table at Batman from behind his mask. “But because he buried me on the other side of Gotham instead of with our family I never made it home. The league of Assassins found me first. 

“It took me years to make it back, but because bty then I was already a killer, and my own person instead of an obedient soldier, he wants nothing to do with me,” Red Hood scoffed with a dismissive motion. 

“Don’t misconstrue the facts. You returned as a crime lord! You took over the drug trade in Gotham and had a body count in the dozens before you revealed to me who you were. Which you did by demanding I let you kill the Joker,” Batman said, and yikes this meeting was now a family fight. 

“Ya? And how did you respond to that B? Did you respond well OR! Did you slit your own sons throat to save a fucked up clown?” Nightwing demanded of their father. B just barely fidgeted under their stare. 

“Besides I’m making Crime Alley a better place in a way you never even tried to. Even if you love Gotham more than any of us you’d basically given up on Crime Alley because of how deep the roots of organized crime go there, and don't you try to claim otherwise! But I’m an Ally kid, was before you pulled me out of there, will be till I die. So I’m making it safer in the way that works for them! Setting up safe injection sites and rehabs, making it against the rules to sell to, or use kids, setting up safe houses for the working girls. I’m making it a safer place for the people who have always lived there. Not trying to make it the sort of place people will set up fancy coffee shops.”

“It’s against the law. You are not above the law,” Batman hissed at him.

Jason clearly telegraphed rolling his eyes at B. “Then stop being a vigilante, because what you’re doing is against the law too.”

“We’ve gotten off topic again,” Martian Manhunter butted in again, giving Batman a warning look. “I will take on the role of mentoring Phantasm. It’s been a while since I took a young hero under my wing. It will be refreshing to do it again.”

“Thank you,” Hyena said genuinely, smiling at Martian Manhunter from behind his mask.

“Ya I bet you like that,” Ellie said, lightening the mood with her teasing tone. “MM has been your favourite hero since you were a kid, and now you have an excuse to talk to him more.”

Hyena blushed and hissed at her only for her to laugh in his face. If they weren’t in public he would have tackled her and started play-fighting. As it was he resigned himself to letting her get away with embarrassing him for now. 

Manhunter chuckled gently and give Danny a very small smile. “I’m flattered to have been your favourite hero. It is a rarer honour for me then some of the others.”

“Ya…” Danny breathed, a little starstruck before he shook himself out of it and stood up. “Well, if that’s all I think Hood and I are ready to go home,” He said, giving Jason a slightly pleading look. He nodded and stood up as well, wrapping an arm around Danny’s waist. 

“That was a good meeting. Remember, if you need help with anything from the Realms, call us. Or any apocalyptic threats I guess, call us,” He reminded before ushering Danny out. The Teen Titans and the present members of the Bat-family sort of formed ranks around Jason, Danny, and Ellie and escorted them out of the room.

The adults were quiet as they left, but as soon as the door closed behind them Danny heard a cacophony of voices, and had to duck his head to hide a grin. It seemed like what Jason had said had managed to start a fight, good, B deserved it! 

Danny snuggled against Jason’s side as Tim put in coordinates and verification in the Zeta-tube to get Jason and Danny back to the Bat Cave. Before they left Danny turned and hugged Ellie tightly again. “Go back with the Teen Titans okay? And come visit me.”

“You have to come visit me too!” Ellie insisted, his voice muffled as she pressed her face into Danny’s chest. 

Danny glanced a little nervously at the assembled members of Teen Titans, “Starlight I’m not sure that they’d want me to-”

“No, it’s alright. Unless anyone objects?” Tim asked, glancing over at his team, Cassie shrugged, Bart gave him a thumbs up and a grin, and Kon nodded. “You invited me into your home, you’re welcome in mine. Especially since it’ll be hers now too. Come whenever you want,” Tim promised. “Just give us a heads up first.”

“Thank you. In that case, yes I will visit you. I promise,” He swore to her. She sniffled and nodded, pulling away from him and wiping her eyes. 

“Good, I’ll hold you to it.” She grumbled at him.

Danny bit back a laugh and nodded before finally letting Nightwing and Hood guide him into the portal. It was less scary the second time at least, even though Danny was completely exhausted. 

“I’m going to take him home,” Jason told Dick as Danny leaned more heavily against him. Now that they were alone he was done holding it together.

“Of course. Is there anything I can do?” Dick asked worriedly. Danny closed his eyes tightly and resisted the urge to cover his ears too.

“No. You can order takeout to our place if you want to, but right now he just needs space. We both do,” Jason told Dick before gently pushing Danny over to his bike and on. Danny clung to Jason, hiding against his back as he drove them home, weaving in and out of traffic and pulled up to the curb, practically carrying Danny back inside. 

“I’m so sorry,” Danny muttered, his arms wrapped tightly around Jason’s shoulders, his face pressed against Jason’s chest. “I shouldn’t have brought up B adopting you, I shouldn’t have surprised you with the powerpoint, I’m sorry I had a panic attack there. I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

“Shhh, shh shh, it’s okay Danny, it’s okay Love. It was actually kind of fun getting to throw B under the bus like that. It’s not your fault for having a panic attack either. But yes, you should have warned me about the power-point. What do you want to do about it?” Jason asked softly, not because he was actually upset, but because the quickest way to snap Danny out of a self hating spiral like this was to ‘punish him for it’, and then talk about it after.

“Whatever you want, whatever will make it right,” Danny mumbled again, he sounded distracted and vague. Jason knew that tone of voice, Danny was having another panic attack, just a dissociative one this time. 

“Danny, none of that! You have to tell me,” Jason told him firmly. 

“Take me to bed, be rough with me,” Danny mumbled.

“Only if you use the safe word,” Jason told Danny, even though he was already carrying Danny towards the bedroom.

“I will if I need to,” Danny promised, and Jason sighed. He knew that meant Danny wouldn’t use it, but all he could do was insist Danny could and should. Trying to force Danny to would be counterproductive. 

---------

The meeting had taken hours for Batman to get back under control as the rest of the Justice league went back and forth between berating him for the way he’d treated Jason and offering him parenting advice. He didn’t want any of it! They hadn’t read Jason’s file, they didn’t know just how high of a body count he had now, just how brutal he could be now. He didn’t want any of their advice, or any of their ridicule, it was ridiculous!

Constantine had tried to sneak out but Batman pinned him to his seat with a look, muttering to him that he needed to stay, Bruce wanted to talk to him alone after the meeting. Finally he managed to regain control enough to end the meeting, ‘at least till tempers had cooled and they could revisit this problem.’ He was planning to avoid that follow up meeting as long as humanly possible.

He convinced everyone else to leave and grabbed Constantine by the scruff when he tried to leave again too. Bruce had seen the look of realization on Constantine’s face while he was watching Danny before he could wipe it away. He had controlled it quickly, but not so quickly that Batman hadn’t noticed it.

“You know what he is now don’t you?” Batman growled at Constantine once they were alone. 

“What’re you talkin about?” Constantine deflected. 

Batman was not impressed.

“Hyena. What is he?” Batman demanded, glaring at the magician. 

Constantine hesitated, glancing around them and biting his lip, as if he was afraid Hyena might pop out from the shadows again. “I think so, but it’s weird and… Well, he’s right that if he had told me I wouldn’t have believed him.”

“Fine. Tell me,” Batman demanded again, he was getting impatient. 

“I think he’s a-” And then he made a series of sounds that made no sense to Batman. “It’s a bit clumsy to translate into English. Halfa, or ‘the perfect balance’, something like that. They’re… well they’re a fucking myth is what they are! The legend is that they were an immortal race of beings who were completely alive, and completely dead. Perfectly balanced between the two, incredibly powerful and almost indestructible. There were only ever a couple hundred because they had to be made not born and the way they’re made is very rare. But they were the keepers of the balance, ambassadors between worlds. 

“Everyone respected them. But that was before the king went mad, and there was this prophecy was discovered, that the True King of the Infinite Realms would be a halfa or somethin. He killed the entire race, complete genocide and no one’s heard anything from a halfa in… I genuinely don’t know, thousands of years probably,” Constantine shrugged again. “I’d heard about them. Ancient beings sometimes lament their loss, that things were better when they were around to keep the balance, but I thought it was just Boomer talk! Back in my day Bullshit! I didn’t think they were TRUE!” Constantine sounded almost hysterical. 

“If they’re keepers of the balance what’s one doing in Crime Alley serving Red Hood?” Batman said skeptically.

“Fuck if I know mate!” Constantine said. “He said he was fully human not that long ago so I’m guessing he’s a new halfa. Which… I guess it makes sense, just because all the previous were gone, the way they’re made can technically be naturally occurring. But he probably won’t have any idea about that cultural heritage, there’s no one left to teach him. 

“With what the GIW did, and he mentioned his haunt being taken, and no one to fall back on, he was a lost spirit. He probably would have latched on to anyone who gave him kindness and purpose,” Constantine explained to Batman with exaggerated patience. “It seems to have worked out pretty well for them, if not for you.

“And Bats, I know you’re not thrilled about this, but think about it. What if Hyena had latched on to someone else? Even a normal person given access to the sort of power Hyena offers, what would most people do with it? Or what if he had latched onto someone like Penguin, anyone without a good heart deep down. It could have gone a hell of a lot worse! And as it is, as long as you don’t piss them off too badly we have a powerful new alley and a counter to a type of threat the League wasn’t well set up to deal with.

“Maybe try untwisting those panties of yours about him dating your son,” Constantine accused, rolling his eyes. This time when he stormed out Batman didn’t stop him. He wasn’t sure how helpful the information Constantine had given him was, but he knew he’d gotten everything he was going to get out of the magician. 

He had his own research to do. 

[storywriter007]

Hi!! First off, I love your work. You are amazing. Okay so my request is basically I have two, both being Percy Jackson x reader comfort fics. Feel free to do one or both of neither!

1) Percy Jackson x reader where the reader has a lot of mental health struggles and is feeling very anxious and overwhelmed and overworked and dissociates a lot more than normal, but is bottling it all up from everyone and trying so hard to be okay and fine, even to her boyfriend Percy who can definitely tell something is off but doesn't want to push it. Maybe show some times he tries to get her to open up but she brushes him off. Then, she just breaks and has a panic attack and complete breakdown, and she ends up dropping something glass and cutting herself on it, and Percy finds her in the middle of it and helps her and comforts her and then they talk about it after.

2) This one is Percy Jackson x reader who gets seriously injured on the Argo II and tries to act like it's not that bad but then Percy (her boyfriend) forces her to let him look at it and it is really bad and he takes care of her and comforts her (kinda like the Leo fic where he cleans the wound on her back because I love that one so much), and then helps her fall asleep after.

Again feel free to do neither or both or just one, thank you so much I love your work!!

I've Got You - Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader

author's note: thank you for the requests! i will answer them in two seperate posts, this one is the first one you asked for!

author's note 2: i'm so glad you enjoy my work like you have no idea how much it means to me

warnings: cursing, self-doubt, reader is struggling mentally, mentions of blood

genre: fluff

word count: 1.2k

-> heroes of olympus masterlist

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send me requests here! (these are my guidelines)

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"are you okay?" a voice called out, replaying itself in the background.

y/n felt someone shake her and she snapped out of her daze.

"y/n." percy said, looking into her eyes. "are you okay? what's going on? you've been staring at the wall for the past ten minutes."

"nothing." she responded, unconvincingly.

percy gave her that look. like the one a mother gives her child when she catches them with their hand down the cookie jar.

"nothing!" she smiled, cheering up. "i'm fine, just a little tired."

"do you want to sleep in my cabin? maybe visit the hypnos cabin?" he proposed.

he was so sweet.

"no, no. i'm fine, just worn out." she lied. "i'm gonna take a nap."

"okay." he said, his voice doubtful.

he kissed the top of her head before leaving her cabin. as soon as she was alone, y/n's head dropped into her hands as she clutched her hair.

what is wrong with me her mind screamed.

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"are you sure you don't want to go to sleep?" percy asked, sitting on y/n's floor.

"for the hundreth time, yes percy, i'm fine." she said, starting to get annoyed.

she knows, he just cares about her, but she just couldn't right now.

"you don't have to do all of this in one day." he reminded. "all of this is due in a week."

a week isn't enough time her mind yelled.

"percy." she said, looking him in the eye. "i'm fine. i swear."

then she shot her that stupid look again.

"i'm fine!" she defended.

"okay, okay." he said. "i'm going to go to bed. stop by my cabin if you need anything."

now she felt bad. he was just looking out for her.

"i'm sorry." she smiled. "and i will. but trust me, i'm fine."

he gave her a smile back. but, it wasn't a good-luck or i-love-you smile. it was a you're-a-fucking-liar-and-i'll-leave-you-alone-but-i-don't-believe-you. percy left and y/n rested her head on her bunk as she looked up at the wood. tears fell from the corners of her eyes.

how was she going to do it? she felt like the world was on her back even more than usual.

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y/n stood in percy's cabin after he insisted that she spend the night with him. she picked up a picture frame that was on his nightstand. it was cute, it was a picture of him and y/n laying down in the new york snow.

she smiled, but a feeling of dread crept up on her as she clutched the glass.

you've got so much to do. you have such little time. i mean, you're a weak excuse of a demi-god. i mean, c'mon, who gets this stressed out? who zones out this much? percy doesn't deserve this. he deserves better. he needs better. he needs someone who isn't a borderline psycho. he's a hero. what are you? a wannabe. a parasite. he's going to leave you sooner or later. it's just a matter of time. oh are you going to cry now? you're such a fucking crybaby.

she dropped the glass. shards hit the floor as tears fell from her eyes. she held her knees to her chest and put her head in her bloody hand as she wept.

"y/n?" percy asked, shutting the door behind him.

"oh-oh my god, percy, i'm so so so sorry." she said, cleaning up the glass that had just shattered everywhere. "i'm sorry, i'm so so sorry."

"hey, it's okay." he smiled, dropping down next to her. "it's just a picture, i have it on my computer."

"no, no, i'm such an idiot. i'm so sorry." she said, hiding her teary eyes from him. "i can't do anything right."

"what? that's not true, don't say that."

"but it is true." she whispered, tears falling from her eyes.

"hey hey hey." he said, turning her face so she was forced to look at his sea green eyes. "i've got you."

she couldn't keep it in anymore. wells of tears fell from her eyes as she violently trembled. percy pulled her into him, placing her head on his chest. she wept into him as the familiar smell of salt-water flooded her nose.

"i've got you, it's alright." he said.

his voice was so soft and calming.

"i'm so so sorry." she breathed out. "i've been so mean to you and i, i broke your picture frame and now i'm bleeding all over you floor, and you probably hate me."

he backed up for a minute and looked down at her hands. they were covered in blood.

"it's okay, it's okay, don't worry about it." he said, kissing her forehead. "i've got you. c'mon, let's wrap this up."

he stood up, and basically picked her up so she would stand too.

"i don't want to go to the infirmary-"

"we don't have to." he assured. "let's wash the blood off, and i have gauze in here."

she felt like a baby as percy rinsed her hands off and wrapped the hurt one in gauze. she sat on his bunk as he carefully cleaned up the glass on the floor. after a few minutes, he sat down next to her. she just couldn't help it, tears started falling from her eyes.

he let her cry into him. he just ran his fingers through her hair and kissed the top of her head every now and then. he kept telling her that it was "alright" and that she was "okay" and that "he's got her." there was something about percy that made her feel so safe around him. maybe it was his soothing voice, or the way he smelled, or maybe it was his touch. whatever it was, it made hiding things from him draining. after half-an-hour, y/n's tears ran dry. she pulled back from percy's chest and looked up at him with red eyes.

"hey, i'm here, you're okay." he reassured, wiping her tears with his thumbs. "what's going on?"

he grabbed a water bottle and gave it to her. even he knew she was dehydrated after crying.

"i-i don't know." she sputtered. "i don't know. i've been in my own head. and i just keep feeling like i'm nothing but a screw up and a mess, and i'm so nervous for the next big quest. i-i can't. i feel like i'm just gonna lose you and i don't have enough time to figure it out. i just feel useless, like a failure whose just going to seal everyone's terrible fate."

"y/n." he paused. "you are the most capable, amazing, intelligent, kind, funny, beautiful, person i've ever met. you are more than enough. and you have time and if you can't get to things, so what? it's okay. and when the next big things happens, it happens."

she felt his firm hands around her arms, holding her tightly.

"and i'm not going anywhere." he reassured.

hearing him clear up all of the awful things her mind has been cramming into her head was cathartic.

"i'm sorry." she said, looking up at him. "i've been such a bitch to you when you were just trying to help-"

"don't worry about it. i knew you weren't doing well." he smiled. "it's alright now."

he bent down and kissed her. his arms wrapped around her upper-half as her arms wrapped around his neck. the kiss was slow and gentle. when they finally pulled away, y/n rested her head underneath his chin.

"i love you." she whispered.

"i love you more." he whispered back, kissing the top of her head.

[sturniolos-blog]

Panic Attack - Matt Sturniolo x Y/n oneshot

warnings - kissing, fluff, panic attack

requested by anon ‼️

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6:37pm

I was laying down in my house, watching the triplets new video before my phone rang, it was nick.

“Hey nick! What’s up?” I said cheery into the phone.

“Y/n, you need to come here now, Matt’s been in a bad mood all day and he keeps telling us to fuck off.” Nick says, i sit up already starting to get ready.

“Where is he right now, nick?” I asked.

“In his room, he’s being an ass and you better get over here before i smack the sense back into him.” Nick scoffs.

I let out a laugh, “I’m on my way.” I then hang up the phone.

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6:43pm

I walked into their house after Nick called me.

I start to hear some yelling,

“Well why don’t you fucking leave me alone!?” I hear come from Matt.

“You’re being a complete asshole!” I start to walk towards the voices, it sounds like chris.

“Yeah, Matt the fucks your problem dude?” I hear Nick chime in.

“You guys all need to fuck off-”

“Matt?” I said, they were all in the living room, yelling at each other.

Matt sighs and runs his hand through his hair, “What are you doing here?” He says, his voice lower now.

Nick clears his throat, “I called her.” He says, looking down.

Chris’s face is red with anger. “Yeah, you need her to fucking relax.” He says.

Matt shoved Chris harshly.

“Matt!” I yelled, going in between them as Chris shoved Matt back.

“Stop! The fuck is wrong with you guys!?” I scolded, Matt scoffing and running to his room.

“Seriously?” I sighed to chris.

“Sorry..” He whispered.

“I got him.” Nick adds in, sitting down on the couch with chris now.

I nodded and walked to Matt’s room, walking in without knocking.

“Get the fuck out.” Matt snaps, he was sitting on his bed his face in his hand.

I shut the door, “Okay you can sit here and pout but you are not going to disrespect me and treat me how you just treated your family. Sorry but that’s not happening.” I said, sitting down on the bed.

Matt stays silent.

“Talk to me, baby..” I sighed, putting my hand on his back.

He shooks his head and took his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Okay, we can sit in silence.” I made myself comfortable against his head bored, my legs straight out. “Or…you can come here and give me a hug.” I said, arms out for him.

Matts head turned and looked at me before turning back and looking at his hands, fiddling with them.

“I know you wanna..” I urged, my hand tugging on his shoulder.

He let out one of his anxiety breaths and climbed on top of me, his head going on my chest and his body in between my legs, one of my hands went through his hair while the other rubbed his back.

“Oh baby..” I whisper.

“Everything’s been so hard and overwhelming lately, i feel like i’m not enough and that i should be doing more like in videos because everyone flames me for not talkin’ so much but i just have no motivation and i can’t-” Matt’s breaths pick up.

“You can’t what, baby?” I ask him as he sits up, sitting next to me, resting his back against the headboard.

He puts his hand on his chest, his breathing a lot quicker.

“Matt?” I ask him, my hand going to his cheek.

“I can’t- i can’t-” He struggles, “I can’t breathe.” He breathes out, huffing and puffing. Hot tears now streaming down his face.

“Why can’t i breathe? It hurts, everything’s blurry.” He began to list out,

“You’re stressing yourself out, baby. Stop, okay.” I began to freak out myself, my hand rubbing his back.

“Uh- so today before nick called me, i was watching your new video that came out yesterday. You looked um- so so good.” I laughed, Matt’s breaths weren’t slowing down but he looked at me.

“You’re right, you don’t talk a lot but you bring a lot to the table when you do, and it’s okay you sit there with your pretty face, looking incredibly fine.” I tease, Matt lets out a breathy laugh.

“But you’re more than enough Matt, and you need to stop bottling that all up and taking it out on other people, especially the ones you love because Chris didn’t mean anything he said, he loves you so much and he wants the best for you, but his anger is fast like yours. As well as nicks. So whatever happened in the argument can just be labeled as an ‘in the moment’ thing.” I said softly.

Matt nodded, “Thank you.” He sniffled, “Sorry for being a big baby.” He apologized.

“Don’t apologize, now come here pretty boy, i missed you.” I put my arms out for him, he laughs and gives me a big hug, kissing all over my face as i laugh.

“Say that again.” He said into my neck.

“What?” I laughed.

“Say that again.” He repeated, his soft kisses going to my collarbone.

“say what? pretty boy?” I teased.

“God, that’s hot.” He groaned against me.

“Yeah, you like it pretty boy?” I laughed as he nodded and kissed my lips.

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that was it! hope the anon who requested liked it! enjoyyy ! and mixed signals part two coming whennn ? (i actually have no clue i haven’t started it)

[chimcess]

Waterlog || pjm (6)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Word Count: 9.4K+ Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: ANGST, crying, mental health issues, talking about mental health, I'm so soft for them it's actually wild, angst, trauma, panic attacks, kissing, ableism, mention of past alcohol abuse, talk of previous sexual encounters, talks of bullying, probably poor swimming terminology, I also have no idea how swim events work so might be wrong about that too, talks of possible inappropriate coach-athlete relationship, lots of insecurities, survivor's guilt, lots of guilt and shame actually, reader needs to be kinder to herself, we all deserve a Jimin, he's still best boyfriend, SMUT, smut warnings under the cut...

prev || masterlist || next || playlist

Smut Warnings: virgin!Jimin, both of them are inexperienced, bad past sexual experiences, vaginal fingering, praise, public sexual contact, denied orgasm (unintentional), very vanilla and tame all things considered

Jimin stood a few feet away, his hands tangled in his hair as he smeared a thick layer of gelatin through the strands. The sight of him working so meticulously brought a smile to my face. It was a familiar scene for synchronized swimmers, their hair slicked down with the sticky goo to ward off chlorine’s wrath. But I knew a few racers who swore by it too. Jimin had never bothered before I pointed out how his hair was looking increasingly parched from our relentless days in the pool. I had shown him how to do it a few weeks ago, and now it was a daily ritual for him.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, fighting the urge to reach out and trace my fingers over the smooth expanse of his back. The phases of the moon inked down his spine were an irresistible temptation; I longed to press my lips against the artwork.

The event had been a last-minute switcheroo—originally slated for solo swimmers covering 250 yards (10 laps in this community pool), but changed when the organizers realized the length of the meet would be an endurance test in itself. Now, competitors were grouped into teams of five, each swimmer tackling two laps. Jimin was content with his team but jittery about being assigned breaststroke, his weakest stroke. Yet, I had no doubts. After months of grueling practice, his team wasn’t about to falter.

“It is what it is,” he muttered, rinsing the gelatin from his hands. “I’m more bummed about having to redirect our donations, but at least it’s still going to cancer research. Can’t complain too much.”

“Just have fun,” I offered. “Trey got to pick the charity because he pulled in the most personal donations from your team. Just do your thing and it’ll be great.”

I fiddled with the collar of my polo shirt, still struggling to accept the coach’s uniform of polo and jeans. It seemed every other coach in the pool wore it, but I felt more like a middle-aged man at a barbecue than a swim coach. The Sketchers I wore didn’t help. Jimin had picked the dark blue color for me, which was comfy enough, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I looked ridiculous.

“You look great,” Jimin said, catching my eye in the mirror.

I snorted, rolling my eyes. He’d been saying that all day, but I struggled to take him seriously. My reflection told a different story—frumpy and awkward. At least the bit of makeup I’d applied managed to make me look somewhat alive.

“I’m serious,” he insisted, adjusting his swim cap. “You look nice in that color. I even like the eyeliner thing you did. You look pretty. You always look pretty.”

I smiled, wanting desperately to kiss him but feeling too on edge. We’d sworn to keep our relationship under wraps. This year was bound to be chaotic, and the last thing we needed was reporters sniffing around if the word got out. We were confident we could manage it, but as I let my eyes roam over his mostly naked body, and with the thrill of his compliment still fresh, I wasn’t so sure.

How was I supposed to keep my hands to myself when he looked like that? His presence was almost a tangible force, and the temptation was just too great. 

“Thanks,” I said, trying to mask the tension in my voice. “Are you almost ready to join the others? William seemed really excited to work with you.”

He shook his head, a pout forming on his lips, and the sight of it made my heart race. 

“Socializing is important,” I teased, reaching out to touch his arm. “What would people think if you spent all your time locked up in your changing room with your coach?”

A mischievous grin spread across his face before he leaned in and stole a quick kiss. I gave him a warning look, though the smile I couldn't suppress gave away my true feelings. 

“I think they’d take one look at you and understand.”

I giggled, “Such a flirt.”

Jimin wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me close. The heat of his bare skin against mine sent shivers down my spine. It had never really occurred to me that he might be doing this on purpose. Hoseok’s words still echoed in my mind. Right now, Jimin seemed at ease with physical intimacy, but I knew better. If I tried to take things further, he would retreat and change the subject. 

This was something we’d have to address when we got home. For now, I wanted to see how far we could push things. If he wanted to stop, we would. But I didn’t mind being the guinea pig for this exploration.

I hopped onto the bathroom sink, wrapping my legs around one of his. We had taken over the family restroom at the event center, Jimin having convinced the others he needed solitude to get “in the zone” before his swim. I trailed behind him dutifully, my sunglasses barely hiding my excitement.

Jimin’s hands traced down my sides as I wrapped my arms around his neck. He fit against me like a perfect puzzle piece. When his fingers slid under my shirt to grip my waist, I couldn’t help but grind my hips against his thigh. The jeans dulled the sensation, but I sighed in pleasure. Jimin froze.

“Sorry,” I murmured, nuzzling into his neck, mortified. “Got carried away.”

“It’s okay,” he replied, his voice deep and rugged, stirring something primal within me. I bit back the more selfish, needy side of me and just held him. If he couldn’t see my face, maybe he wouldn’t know how desperate I was. “Do you want to do it again?”

I leaned back to look at him. His shyness was evident, but he wasn’t scared. I needed to be sure before getting excited.

“Do you want me to?”

He nodded, “Yes.”

“Are you sure? We can talk about it later if you want.”

Jimin shook his head, his grip on my waist tightening. The sensation was almost too much to bear. I suppressed the intense arousal for his sake. I wasn’t going to get off on his thigh, especially with these jeans on, but I was willing to go along if it meant something to him.

“I want to make you feel good,” he said softly, as though confessing a secret. “I just don’t know if I’ll be good at it.”

“Baby,” I cooed, gently caressing his face. He avoided eye contact. “Hey, look at me.”

He did.

“Don’t worry about that stuff,” I whispered, kissing the tip of his nose. “Whatever we do together is going to feel good because we’re together.”

He shook his head, resting his forehead against mine. He seemed anxious, almost sad. I wished he’d open up more; it might ease his burden.

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” he groaned. “I want you so bad but I get nervous.”

I nodded. “That’s okay. You make me nervous too.”

We stood there, both caught in our tangled emotions. We had arrived early so Jimin could scout and time his warm-up routine before the event. I felt conflicted—my body was slick with desire, and despite knowing he was upset, I still wanted him to touch me. The fact that I was even keeping track of time for a quickie was almost criminal.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Chim,” I breathed, kissing his cheek. “I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“Is it because you don’t want to or because you’re worried about me?”

I didn’t have a good answer. I didn’t want to make him feel guilty, but I was so afraid of hurting him that I struggled to articulate what I wanted. My fear of rejection was overshadowed by concern for him.

“Can I touch you?” he asked.

I nodded, “Of course you can. I’m just worried about you right now. You seem upset.”

His hands slowly traveled up my shirt. I leaned back slightly, granting him better access. His hands ventured higher, and he admitted, “I’m not very experienced. It makes me feel insecure.”

His hands stopped just below my bra. “I know you’re older and have been with more people.”

I nodded, understanding his hesitation. I didn’t need the whole story to grasp what he was trying to tell me.

“I’ve only been with one person,” I confessed. “You don’t have a reason to be insecure. It’s just me. Just us.”

He kissed me, and my fingernails dug into his shoulders. He pulled away, and I nearly cried out in frustration. He was driving me insane.

“It was one for me too,” he said, his hands tracing down my back. “It couldn’t… perform.”

The pieces fell into place. He was a virgin. It all made sense now.

“Did you ever…?” I asked, kissing up his neck.

“No. She told a bunch of her friends, and I got picked on for a while. I never tried again. Swimming took up so much of my time that it never came up.”

My heart broke for him. I wanted to know who had hurt my beautiful boy. I took a moment to calm myself, planting gentle kisses on his skin to soothe him.

“Fuck her,” I said softly.

He chuckled, his hands moving back to my stomach, then lower. I bit his ear playfully, and he moaned, slipping his hand into my pants. I could barely contain my pleasure. 

“We’re not having sex here,” I said, trying to ease the pressure. “I won’t touch you unless you want me to.”

He nodded, his gaze focused on my lap. He was still touching me over my panties, and the sensation was almost unbearable. I was almost ashamed of how wet I was, but after months of frustration, it felt almost justified.

“What time is it?” he asked.

I lifted my wrist. “We have twenty minutes before warm-ups.”

He nodded, slipping a finger into my panties. I jolted at the cold touch. He leaned in and kissed my cheek.

“Do you want to stop?”

I shook my head, “Not if you don’t want to.”

He looked into my eyes as his finger gently traced up and down my folds. I sighed in relief, letting my eyes slip shut, focusing on the pleasure he was giving me. 

His finger pressed against my entrance, and when he felt no resistance, he pushed it in all the way. I moaned, opening my legs wider. His movements were tentative at first, but soon became more confident, his strokes deep and deliberate. My body was on fire with need.

“Right there,” I choked out, leaning back into the mirror.

His fingers hit the same spot again, and I shuddered, trying to muffle my cries. Jimin’s touches were more assured now, making my toes curl.

“Yeah?” he cooed, adding another finger. My eyes rolled back in ecstasy. “You’re so perfect.”

I could feel myself shaking, my hands gripping his arm for support. I was so close, and my muffled moans were becoming harder to control.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

My eyes flew open. I looked at Jimin, then the door, and back to him. His pupils were almost entirely dilated, and he was flushed a pretty pink. His fingers were still deep inside me.

“Tara?” a voice called out. “Are you in there?”

“Wrong bathroom,” Jimin called out, fingers still moving. I watched him, biting my lip to keep quiet. “Sorry.”

“Oh! My bad.”

The man’s footsteps faded away.

“Time?” he asked.

I checked my watch and sighed. Jimin slowly withdrew his fingers, and I almost choked on my own breath when he put them in his mouth. 

“Later,” he promised.

It was a promise that weighed heavily. I fought between being his girlfriend and his coach. The girlfriend wanted to forget everything else and keep him here. The coach knew better and that I would regret keeping him from something so important to him. 

“Let’s go kick some ass,” I said, kissing him one last time before sliding off the counter. “You leave first. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

He scoffed and took my hand. “I’m not leaving you after what we just did.”

“Such a gentleman,” I giggled, leaning into his side. “Make sure no one’s around, and we’ll leave together.”

We were the first ones at the pool, a handful of reporters already lurking around the bleachers, eager to catch the first glimpse of the swimmers. Jimin and I had let go of each other before entering the pool room, our roles as coach and trainee now firmly back in place. My steps slowed as I turned to him.

“I’ll hang back,” I said, my weariness of the press still gripping me. No one seemed to recognize me yet, and Jimin was an effective buffer. “Go and play nice.”

He flashed me a grin. “I’m an American sweetheart, angel. The people love me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, sweetheart, you better start talking. We’ve got warm-ups to do. Unless you want to cramp up and lose. If that’s your plan, be my guest.”

As Jimin charmed the cameras, I mentally reviewed our plan for the day. Regardless of the outcome, we were hitting the town for food and drinks. It was a perfect way to build rapport and expand our network. The more connections we made, the more likely someone would pass our name to a sponsor.

It struck me as odd that Jimin wasn’t a sponsor or ambassador for any major brands despite his popularity. When I asked him about it, he mentioned Hamilton’s belief that endorsements would be a distraction. His mother thought Hamilton was just jealous of Jimin’s success. I had to side with Nayeon on this one.

I was already working on securing a deal with Nike or Adidas. Their sportswear was among the most recognized worldwide, and getting Jimin’s face out there would set him up nicely for life after the Olympics. He had at least one, maybe two, more Olympics before retirement, and sponsors could provide the financial cushion he needed while he focused on swimming.

I’d reached out to an old contact at Speedo, who was eager to get the endorsement process rolling. Miguel, the rep I’d always dealt with, was thrilled about the newest hot swimmer in town. A shipment of gear was on its way, and I was awaiting confirmation from advertising about a potential campaign. I hadn’t anticipated this, but Speedo seemed eager to be one of Jimin’s first endorsements. I planned to discuss it with him once the charity event was over.

“Ready?”

I jumped, Jimin’s laugh ringing in my ears. 

“Yeah, yeah,” I teased. “Laugh it up. Just take off your clothes and get in the water.”

Jimin stuck his tongue out at me, peeling off his jacket and tossing it on his gear bag. His flip-flops followed, and before long, he was in the water. I stood at the edge, watching him as he began his laps. This was more about stretching than training, and I reminded him to take it slow.

The pool began to fill with other swimmers practicing their strokes. Jimin and the others tagged each other in and out, getting used to the relay transitions. I watched with pride. His breaststroke was impressive. His progress was a testament to his hard work, and I felt honored to be part of his journey. Relationship aside, he was dedicated, and it was a pleasure to work with him.

“He looks good,” Coach Tyler Moore said, his gaze fixed on Jimin. “Better than when he was with that other guy. Kid’s a beast.”

“Good for a short guy,” Nicole, another coach, joked.

Jimin’s height was always a topic of discussion. His shorter stature seemed to be a disadvantage, especially against the taller Olympic swimmers. Most of the men in the category were at least six feet tall, and the women were often taller than Park, myself included.

“He’s a great swimmer,” I replied. “He’s fast and strong. Could probably bench-press a bear if he tried.”

Tyler chuckled. “Do you think he’ll place at the Olympics?”

I nodded. “Of course I do. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“Girl’s a recluse,” a familiar dry voice drawled beside me.

I chuckled. Summer Lewis, an old friend from high school, had unexpectedly shown up. It was a welcome surprise that eased some of my nerves.

“Thought hell would freeze over before she was back in public,” Summer said. “Do you even leave the house?”

“Yes,” I said, trying to keep the smile on my face. “Obviously. I’m here right now.”

“How are you feeling?” she asked, glancing at me as the others dispersed to speak with reporters. “Leg holding up?”

“Yeah. I still get some pain, especially in the cold, but I’m managing. Alive, so I can’t complain too much.”

The same couldn’t be said for Namjoon. I pushed that thought aside. There was no room for survivor’s guilt today. I was happy. Everything was coming together. He would be happy for me. But he’s dead.

I took a deep breath, my anxiety escalating. The reporters were closing in, and the thought of interacting with them made me physically ill. My stomach churned, and I fought to keep the panic at bay. It was irrational, but I was sweating like a pig.

“Do you miss it?” Summer asked, gesturing toward the pool.

“All the time,” I admitted, a bead of sweat trickling down my neck. “Hey, I’m going to use the bathroom real quick. Let Park know if he starts looking for me.”

Summer nodded. “We’ll be starting in ten.”

“I’ll be back before then.”

Jimin looked my way as I glanced back at him. He gave me a thumbs-up, and I nodded in return, signaling that I’d be back shortly. He needed to stay focused on the water and his team.

I squeezed my hand into a fist, tucking my thumb underneath my index finger and popping it through the other side. I waved my wrist, signaling that I needed to use the restroom. He nodded, and I saw him relax a bit. Good. I just needed a few minutes to collect myself.

I splashed water on my face, my reflection in the bathroom mirror staring back at me. Today was overwhelming. My anxiety was through the roof, and the makeup on my face felt like a mask. It looked fine, as it always did, but it only made me feel more insecure. I looked like I was trying too hard, and everyone knew it. God, I was such an idiot.

And then there was Jimin.

I let a single tear slip. It was inappropriate and disrespectful. He was so nervous and scared, and I’d brushed off his vulnerability because of what? I hadn’t had any in a while? I was no better than the men I despised.

I gave myself two minutes to cry, letting the guilt and shame flow out. Once my watch beeped, I dabbed my face with tissues and fixed my hair. Whatever was going on with me would have to wait. Jimin was counting on me.

As I opened the bathroom door, I collided with a solid chest. I stumbled back, barely catching myself on the wall. The person I bumped into remained still.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, adjusting my clothes. “Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine.”

The voice was unmistakable. 

Standing in front of me was Matthew Hamilton, his blonde hair starting to silver and slicked back with too much hairspray. His pale blue eyes, devoid of warmth, still unsettled me. He was built like an ox and as healthy as ever, but age was catching up.

“Good to see you, Otter,” he said, his tone dripping with boredom. “Seems like you got stuck with my leftovers.”

I was too furious to speak. How dare he speak about Jimin like that? I had to hold myself together before I lost control. I was already at my breaking point, and his condescending attitude was the last straw.

“Too bad they couldn’t find a swimmer up to your caliber,” he continued, seemingly oblivious to the offense. “Even with a limp, you deserve better than Park. Kid’s got no spirit, and don’t even get me started on the drinking.”

I scoffed. “Jimin doesn’t drink.”

“Not anymore, maybe,” Hamilton said casually, as if trying to make small talk. “He used to drink like a fish until his brother died. Working with him was a nightmare. Glad you’re not dealing with that shit with your bum leg.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my leg,” I snapped, at least making him look slightly chastised. “And for the record, that ‘nightmare’ you keep talking about beat your personal best in his last competition. So if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do than listen to a has-been who doesn’t know when to shut up.”

I shoved past him, barely moving him an inch. My steps were heavy as I stalked down the hallway, my anger searing through me. I knew my face betrayed my emotions, and the cameras would catch every detail. It was almost enough to make me turn back and hide in the bathroom.

But I had someone counting on me, and he was far more important than protecting my pride.

Jimin was standing with the group when I returned, three minutes to spare. He clocked something was off right away, and so did Summer.

“What crawled up your ass?” she asked.

“Some dumb bitch,” I huffed, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself. “I bumped into an asshole on my way out of the bathroom.”

“Are you okay?” Nicole asked, placing a hand on my shoulder. “Do we need to tell security?”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. I think I gave him enough of an earful to keep him the hell away from me.”

I didn’t want to reveal who had bothered me. It would only cause unnecessary drama and upset Jimin. We had an event to focus on. 

“Let's go over the plan one more time.” 

Taking over as head coach, I directed the team. The others were happy to hand over the reins, and the boys took direction well. We reviewed the order of events, their best times, and their confidence levels. After a pep talk and some words of encouragement, it was time for the boys to swim.

Jimin was third in our group of four, and I watched him intensely. How well he performed today would set the tone for the rest of the season. He was signed up to compete in the breaststroke event at the Olympics, along with other solo swimming events. I knew just how skeptical people were about his chances. Today’s performance could reignite interest in him, which was crucial for securing sponsors.

Jimin took his place on the block, laser-focused and ready to dive in as soon as Trey tagged him. Trey was the fastest in the pool today, giving Jimin a head start before the others were halfway back across.

I held my breath. Jimin was a bullet in the water. Not as perfect as I wanted, but much improved. He reached the touchpad and pushed himself back across the pool. Team 3 was catching up, but Jimin would finish first. I watched as he gave one final push and tagged in D’Angelo.

Take that, you old bastard, I sneered internally. My anger surprised me; Hamilton deserved my contempt. No one gets to talk about Jimin like that. Ever.

D’Angelo butterflied us to victory. Our team hugged each other as the announcer declared our win to the cheering crowd. The bleachers were filled, the audience screaming their praise at the four men. They basked in the glory. All I could do was stare at my pretty boy’s smile in awe.

I really did love him.

Even if I didn’t tell him right now, I knew in my heart that I did. I went up against Matthew fucking Hamilton for him, came to this charity function, and kept it together. Now, I was going to talk to some news reporters, all because I loved him.

I love him, I love him, I love him…

“You’re a damn good coach, Y/N.”

I turned to smile at Summer. She was beautiful, her brown eyes warm and kind. She reminded me of Giselle, but her features were sharper, her nose broader. I remembered us cutting up after placing in nationals right after we turned 21. I hadn’t thought about her in so long I forgot what it was like to miss her.

“So are you. D’Angelo is one of the best I’ve seen for his age group. How old is he?”

“Sixteen. Turning seventeen next month. Hope he’ll be Olympics-ready next time, but I don’t know if he’ll stick with it.”

“He will. You can see it in his eyes.”

D’Angelo was talking to Jimin, the high schooler bubbly and starry-eyed. He had a slight stutter and kept apologizing about his tics. D’Angelo had Tourette’s and clicked his tongue and winked a lot. He attached himself to Jimin once they got comfortable, and my boyfriend told me he had followed the younger swimmer on social media.

“Where does he go to school?”

“Pioneer High,” she replied. “His family moved to Ann Arbor a few weeks ago. He was going to school out here in Allendale.”

What a small world.

“Does he need a new coach?” I asked. “I’m out in Saline. It’s only twenty minutes away from Ann Arbor.”

Summer seemed excited about the prospect of us working together. She said this was their last meet as coach and student, and she was sad to see him go since he was the only person serious about swimming professionally on their team. I gave her my contact information and asked her to pass it on to D’Angelo’s parents. I saw potential in him and wanted to keep that fire in his eyes.

“He’s going to be so excited.”

“Well, he’ll have to wait until after the Olympics,” I reminded her. “I’m up to my neck in work right now.”

“What about weekends?” she countered.

“Maybe Saturday,” I sighed. “We’ll see. I’m not sure if I want to commit to it right now. I’ll be in hell until July. Between Nationals and all the other competitions Hamilton signed him up for, we’re not getting any breaks.”

Summer hummed, eyeing the reporters. They had gone to speak with the boys, all of whom seemed eager to share their happiness about the win. St. Jude’s would be getting a hundred thousand dollars from today’s event. Reaching into my pocket, I asked Summer if she had recorded the race.

“Nicole did,” she told me. “She sent it to the group chat already.”

“Excellent,” I grinned. “Jimin’s mom wanted to see him swim. She was so disappointed she couldn’t come.”

I felt Summer watching me as I unlocked my phone. Watching the video, I was pleased at how well-shot it was. You could see all of our boys on full display. I thanked Nicole for the video and saved it. Pulling up Neyeon’s number, I sent the video and promised her to have Jimin call her as soon as he was available.

“You two together?”

I looked at Summer, keeping my face neutral.

“Sorry if I’m overstepping,” she laughed. “It’s just…you two seem very close.”

I raised an eyebrow. Lying wasn’t something I did often, and this felt wrong but necessary. I didn’t want anyone to know about us. It took one person saying the wrong thing, and we’d be up shit’s creek come July. Our relationship was frowned upon by SafeSport and would be considered imbalanced.

“We’re not.”

Summer did not look convinced.

“I’m not going to tell anyone, Y/N. You’re just a trainer while he’s still in Michigan. A stand-in until Bunch finds him a new coach. We all know that, and you’re not breaking the code of conduct.”

“I’m not a temp,” I sighed. “We haven’t disclosed anything yet. I wanted to wait until after the Olympics, but I’m afraid I’ll have to step down before that happens.”

Summer placed a hand on my shoulder. “He’ll be in Colorado in April, right? Tell Bunch your job as coach is over and you won’t have anything to worry about.”

“You don’t get it,” I shook my head. “Ozzie wants me to be his permanent coach. That’s been the expectation this entire time, and I know Jimin would want the same.”

“Well, he can’t have his cake and eat it too,” she said, glancing at the reporters. “Get him to understand the position you’d be in. I’m sure if you told him your romantic relationship would make you look bad, then he’d be more willing to get help elsewhere.”

“He wants to finish the season with me by his side. It was the only compromise he was willing to listen to.”

“Put your foot down. Find other options. Christmas is around the corner. Spring won’t be too long after that. You should step down before Oswald finds out. Don’t screw yourself over, babe. You’ve worked too hard for this to let some kid take it away from you.”

I snorted, “He’s not doing anything wrong.”

“No,” she argued. “He’s being selfish. You both are.”

I knew she was right. I should have waited until I was no longer attached to him in this way before starting anything. I knew it from the beginning, and I still allowed myself to be in this position. Summer had a point. Finding him a permanent coach before we went to Colorado in April was a good idea. If I was just a trainer, then nothing would be inappropriate, and I could still help him out in the gym.

“Are you looking for anything?” I joked.

Summer laughed. “Girl, I’d love to work with that boy, but I don’t think we’d line up this year. I have kids now. I can email you a few recommendations.”

“Thanks, Summer. I don’t know how big of a deal it’s going to be, but I’ll talk to Bunch about it.”

“Anytime, Otter. I’m just speaking from my experiences. He might tell you something different. Don’t spiral over it. I know you.”

I always hated that stupid nickname, but I had to put on a smile. Cameras were coming our way, and I needed to be sure I was on my best behavior. For Jimin’s sake.

The interview went better than I expected. I didn’t have to talk about myself a single time, and it didn’t look like any of the reporters here knew who I was. It wasn’t pleasant, but I couldn’t complain. We spoke for five minutes before they moved on to the others. Taking that as my cue, I went to collect my athlete.

We had a lot to talk about tonight.

Jimin smiled when I approached. The other three boys greeted me just as eagerly, and I was more than happy to hand out my praises. D���Angelo and Trey went to mingle with the losing teams. Paul went to find Nicole, leaving Jimin and me alone.

“You look upset,” he said, handing his duffle bag over when I held out my hand. “Something the matter?”

“No,” I shook my head and smiled. “Nothing’s wrong. I just need to talk to you later.”

“Is it bad?”

“Not bad,” I reassured him. “Something private. I don’t want to do it here.”

“Okay, Coach.”

That night, as I lay in bed, I thumbed through the email Summer had sent me earlier. Jimin had been invited out with the other boys, and I had pushed him to go. I told him I had paperwork and reports to handle, that he should enjoy his night off. He seemed reluctant but left anyway.

The truth was, I wasn't ready to have this conversation with him. Every time I tried to bring up our relationship, he brushed it off, saying he was fine with waiting until after the Olympics. But I knew better. It would look worse if we waited until he won a medal to disclose everything. I was his coach, temporary or otherwise, and it was my responsibility to make sure boundaries weren't crossed.

I should have never come here. Not when I knew exactly how I felt about him before I did. I was such an idiot.

Finally, ready to face the music, I called Ozzie. It was still early in Colorado, but I knew he'd answer. I never called him unless it was important. Maybe, if I was lucky, Whitney would pick up, and I could chat with her first. She always had a way of helping me get my head straight before unleashing my worries on Ozzie.

"Hello?" No such luck tonight.

"Hey, Oz," I greeted, the worry in my voice making me want to hang up. "How are you?"

"Fine. What's wrong, Otter?"

I sighed, "I fucked up."

"Tell me about it."

So I did. I spent half an hour unloading everything that had happened since I moved to Michigan. How attracted I was to Jimin, but how I pushed those feelings aside to coach him. The months of slowly building longing. Sushi night in Detroit. The date when I came back from visiting home. The kiss on his couch. The brief sexual encounter this morning (though I left out most of those details). I told him everything.

To his credit, Oswald just listened. He only spoke every so often to clarify something or ask about a small detail I left out. As my story came to a close, the pit in my stomach felt like someone was sitting on me. My hands began to tremble.

"I'm so sorry, Ozzie," I cried. "You trusted me, and I fucked it all up."

"You didn't do anything wrong," he finally said, his voice soft and gentle. "Summer was being dramatic earlier. What you two do is your business as long as you disclose it."

"But-"

"Katinka Hosszú and Shane Tusup are married. Coach-athlete relationship. They've disclosed it, and they're fine. You and Park are doing the same thing. I'll let everyone else know, and you'll be fine once the Olympics come around."

"I just don't want to be a bad person, Oz."

"You're not," he soothed. "You did the right thing by telling me. I'm happy for you, Y/N. You've been alone for too long, and that kid needs someone like you in his corner. He's been through a lot."

Wiping my face, his words brought back my encounter with Hamilton. The words he used to describe Jimin were so far from reality, but I still couldn't find it in me to not believe him. Matthew was a jerk, a stupid one at that, but he was sincere in his annoyance.

"I ran into Hamilton today. He said some shitty things about Jimin. Called him a drunk."

Ozzie cursed under his breath.

My heart rate sped up. So it was true? But that didn't make sense. Jimin didn't even drink. I had never heard of a drunk who didn't drink. Unless he was in recovery.

I thought about my dad. He'd been sober for five years now. It was one of the only compliments I could give his new wife. She kept him on the straight and narrow. Imagining Jimin in my childhood basement, too drunk to stand up, crying for a wife that wasn't coming back felt wrong. I could never put him in that position. That wasn't him at all.

"That's something you should talk to him about."

"But it's true?"

"To an extent," Ozzie admitted. "I wouldn't call him a drunk, but the kid can hold his liquor. He was worse a few years ago, but he's been great for a long time. Hamilton is just exaggerating."

But I had a gut feeling he wasn't.

"Thanks for talking to me, Oz."

"Anytime, Y/N," he chuckled. "And delete that damn email. He doesn't need a new coach. You're working magic on him."

"Night."

"Night."

Tossing my phone on the bed, I slammed my laptop shut and put it on the nightstand. Today had been a disaster. We came here and won, did exactly as well as I had hoped, but it felt hollow. I didn't know who to believe. Summer's concerns were valid from an academic coach's perspective, and I understood her worries. It was strange to me as well. Ozzie was a far more reliable source, but it felt too easy. Things were never that simple for me, and it was difficult to calm down enough to believe what he said.

Curling into a ball, I stared at the front door. He'd be back soon, and I'd have to explain my strange mood. I knew he'd be upset with me for sending him away after saying we needed to talk, but I hoped he'd forgive me once I explained why I needed space to think. So many decisions needed to be made, and I knew I would only hurt him if I tried to do anything before screwing my head back on.

For now, I decided to go by Ozzie's advice. If any issues came up, we'd deal with them together. As a team. Jimin would prefer it that way, and I could take some of the pressure off my shoulders.

A beep. A wiggle. Another beep. The door opened.

"Stupid keycard doesn't work right," Jimin grumbled to himself, slipping out of his shoes. "I knew there was a reason it was so cheap."

I slowly sat up and watched him. His hair was in his eyes, and his skin looked a little pale, but he seemed to be in a good mood. I couldn't smell alcohol either.

I wanted to punch myself in the face.

I wasn't ready for that conversation yet, but I knew avoiding it would only make things worse. If I let my mind wander, it would spin the worst story ever told, and I'd constantly be checking to make sure he wasn't drunk.

Jimin didn't drink, I told myself. Jimin's been doing great.

He went straight to the bathroom, giving me a few minutes to collect myself. I needed to be honest but cautious. If I told him word-for-word what Hamilton had said, it would only make him feel bad. Starting with the good news first might help. Maybe learning that we didn't have to hide our relationship status going forward would ease the sting of his old coach's words.

I would have to approach this delicately. The toilet flushed. The water ran. The bathroom door opened. It was showtime.

"Had fun?" I asked him, knees pressed against my chest.

He smiled at me, "They're all really nice. Wish you were there."

"Next time," I promised. "Want to put the TV on?"

Jimin shrugged, "Sure. Food Network?"

"Chopped might be on."

It was actually Iron Chef, but we both liked that show too, so we kept it on. I tried not to stare at Jimin as he got undressed. He only wore a shirt and boxers to sleep, so it was very distracting. I needed to be focused and ready for anything.

Climbing into bed, he wrapped an arm around my waist and buried his face into my side. I was still sitting up, cradling my legs, but Jimin's whining finally got me to relax. Sliding down, I wrapped my arms around his neck and let him throw the blanket over me.

This was my happy place.

"I missed you," he mumbled, fingers playing with my hair.

"I missed you too," I told him. "Sorry I've been weird."

"What's wrong, angel?"

I felt my eyes welling up. "Good or bad?"

"Good."

I took a deep breath.

"I told Coach Bunch about our relationship. He said we'll be fine, and he's going to put in a disclosure form with the board for us. We'll probably get an email to sign a few documents in a couple of days."

He kissed my forehead, a large, toothy grin overtaking his entire face. I couldn't help but smile back. I knew it would make him happy. Gripping my hair, he yanked my head forward for a kiss. He couldn't stop smiling even as our lips collided. His joy eased some of my anxiety about the conversation that was to come.

"I'm so happy right now," he giggled, kissing me again. "I can finally show you off like the pretty girl you are."

Relenting, I tightened my grip around him. I needed to focus on the good. Jimin wasn't going to get mad at me for being honest, and I had to hope Hamilton being a jerk wouldn't burst our perfectly formed bubble.

"I ran into Coach Hamilton today."

Jimin's smile dropped in sync with my heart.

"He said some things," I averted my gaze. "It upset me. That was my issue when I came back from the bathroom."

"What did he say?"

I shook my head, "It doesn't matter. He doesn't matter."

Jimin cupped my cheek.

"You were upset before you went. Why?"

I sighed, burying my face in his neck. It was easier to talk to him when I didn't feel his eyes on me. It never ended. The anxiety. The shame. The guilt.

"I just felt so bad about the bathroom thing. You told me to drop it, but it's still there. I don't want to make you feel pressured. I want you to feel loved when I touch you. I just want to make you feel good, Jimin."

"You do," he soothed, kissing my head. "You make me feel amazing. There's nothing wrong with the things we do. We're going to be okay."

I couldn't help but cry. I loved him so much. I could never, ever, let him go. He was everything I ever wanted. Perfect.

"And then, here comes this goddamn asshole," I cried, the words spilling out of me like a busted dam. I was past the point of no return, the fury and frustration rolling off me in waves. Any semblance of calm had fled, replaced by a raw, unfiltered torrent of emotion. 

"He kept yammering about my 'bum leg,' saying you were no good, calling you a drunk. I don't know what came over me, but I just snapped. I never lose it like that, but I did. And now, I feel like I've ruined everything—your meet, your moment. And to top it all off, I went behind your back and talked to Ozzie—"

"Stop." Jimin's hands were on my face, his grip firm but gentle, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Stop it. Please, don't hide from me. You didn't ruin anything, angel. I promise. I'm so happy we won, and you talking to Bunch is the best gift anyone’s ever given me."

I shook my head, unable to accept his words. The day had spiraled into a nightmare, and I felt responsible for every second of it. I couldn't celebrate with him, couldn't touch him, couldn't even look at him. I was a failure. I was a mistake. This whole thing was a mistake. I was going to ruin his career. His life. His—

"One," he took a deep breath. "Two," then another. "Three," he kissed my forehead. "Come on, angel girl. Breathe with me."

I blinked, following his lead. One deep breath in. One big exhale out. One breath in. One breath out. One, two, three, four; five. Ten, nine, eight, seven; six. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. 

"There you go," Jimin mumbled. "Just calm down. I'm not mad. I promise you I'm not mad."

I nodded, my breath catching up with me. With my head cleared, the weight of my earlier words hit me like a sledgehammer. So much for being gentle and kind. I wanted to punch myself in the face. God, I was a horrible girlfriend.

"I'm sorry," I murmured. "That was unnecessary. And selfish. And wrong. I promised myself I'd stay calm, and then I just freaked out on you."

Sitting up, I wiped my face roughly, angry at my tears. I was too old to act like this when I was upset. I needed to learn how to stay composed and communicate. No one wants to deal with a crybaby who explodes all the time.

"It's okay to be upset," he replied. "That's a lot to handle alone, and you did so well today. I want you to know you can have these moments with me. It's what I'm here for."

"But you shouldn’t have to."

"I want to," he said, grabbing my face again. I hadn’t realized I had looked away. "I want to because I love you."

Automatically, I laughed. My disbelief was so great I was positive Ashton Kutcher would jump out of the bathroom and tell me I was getting Punk’d. But this wasn’t 2003. It was 2024, and no one had thought about that blemish on MTV’s record in over a decade. This was just me and Jimin in our hotel room, and he was telling me something profound, and all I could do was laugh.

He cracked a smile. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing," I shook my head, almost giddy with joy. "Nothing. I don’t know why I can’t stop laughing."

His smile widened. Sitting up, he leaned in and kissed my cheek. I squeaked, giggled, and threw myself at him.

My mood swings had to be exhausting. I knew I had to be as well.

But he loved me. Jimin loved me. Even if I was the most exhausting girlfriend, he loved me.

"I love you," he repeated, his eyes soft and glowing with unmistakable fondness. "I don’t like it when you talk about yourself like that."

"I love you, too," I whispered back like a secret. "I’m sorry."

He shook his head. "Don’t feel bad for telling me these things. You’re not ruining anything for me. I’m just happy you’re giving me the privilege to hold you when you’re down. You’re a suffer-in-silence type."

I snorted. "Woe is me."

Jimin leaned back and took me with him. Laying across his chest, I got comfortable and stared at him. He was the prettiest man I had ever seen. He needed a haircut soon. It was past his ears and too hard for him to manage. I’d let him go early next week so he could fit in a trip to the barber.

"There’s nothing wrong with your leg, by the way."

I snickered. "I told him the same thing. May or may not have called him a has-been, too."

That made Jimin laugh. The sound was like music. I loved it when he was happy. I was worried he was putting his feelings aside to make me feel better, but I had to force myself to let him come to me on his own time. Whatever Jimin wanted was what I wanted, and if he wasn’t ready to tell me about his past yet, I would accept that.

Because I loved him. And he loved me. I smiled. He loves me.

"You have questions, right?"

"About the drunk comment? Sure, but you don’t have to say anything. You can talk to me or not, and I’ll still be here."

He regarded me for a moment before nodding. "Thank you."

I simpered. "You’re welcome."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

Wanting to break the tension, I made a show of stretching my arms above my head. Yawning melodramatically, I curled up against his side. Jimin’s arms wrapped around my waist as if they were always meant to be there. As it turned out, a new episode of Chopped had come on.

Jimin was very pleased with this, and we lapsed into a comfortable silence as we watched the chefs open their baskets. We had gotten lucky enough to only miss the introductions. For their appetizer basket, they got mofongo (something I had never heard of before), English peas, sparkling cider, and catfish filets. I marveled at the ingredients. I would have been utterly clueless.

"What’s mofongo made of?" I asked Jimin.

"Mashed up fried plantains," he replied calmly. "They put garlic paste and chicharron in it. You’d usually eat it with beef broth, but it can change depending on the recipe. It’s a Puerto Rican dish. I only heard about it after swimming with Luis Rivera at Nationals. It’s really good."

"It sounds good. Summer? Her family is Nigerian, and if we were lucky, her mother would bring these massive pots of food to our training sessions when we were in the U.S. Olympic swimming team back in 2012. I dream about her jollof rice. And the soups? Don't even get me started."

I watched as one chef used the mofongo to create a marinade for his catfish and raised an eyebrow. Points off for lack of creativity. Another person had taken the mofongo and turned it into a thick gravy. Both seemed like safe choices, but at least they were using it. The other chef hadn’t even touched it. They were very focused on a pot of boiling potatoes and frying the fish.

"Boiling more potatoes seems pointless," I muttered.

"Let him cook."

I snorted. "Yes, sir."

Jimin was right, of course. A few moments later, the man was mixing the potatoes and mofongo together to make a hybrid of sorts. After that, he assembled his fish pie. He used the cider to make a base gravy for the fish and peas, added in a few other veggies for more flavor, and piled on the potatoes. I did not think I would like the flavor of fish with heaps of mash on them, but it looked delicious as he plated them. Far better than the other two’s strange and avant-garde style.

It just wasn’t something I would consider an appetizer.

"That’s an entire meal," Jimin scoffed. "He’s going home."

"Get out of my head, kid."

He kissed my cheek. "Make me."

"Punk."

"You love me."

"I do."

"Say it again," he giggled.

I rolled my eyes. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he sighed happily. "I’m so happy I can just say that now. You have no idea how hard it’s been to just... not say it."

I thought about the semi-panic attack I had in Hoseok’s car and laughed. He had no idea how much I understood where he was coming from.

"Say it as much as you want, love," I kissed the underside of his chin.

We had both been right. The judges thought the pie was too much to be an appetizer. 

The hiss of the shower jolted me awake, the sound slicing through the thick, restless silence of the early morning. I fumbled groggily for my phone. The screen lit up: 3:17 AM. The bed beside me was a cold, empty expanse, and a tight knot of worry coiled in my gut. I slipped out of bed, the chill of the floor biting at my feet, and crept toward the bathroom door.

“Chim?” I called softly, barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder might shatter the fragile night.

“Yeah?” His voice was close, too close to the door for him to be in the shower. 

“Can I come in?” 

The moment of silence that followed was heavy, like the air before a storm. Then came the soft click of the lock, and the door creaked open just enough for me to see him. As I’d feared, he was still fully clothed, slumped on the toilet with that distant, haunted look I’d hoped never to see again. It had been months since he’d looked this lost.

I slipped inside and closed the door behind me, the small space barely accommodating us. We were so close our knees touched, but I didn’t care. He needed me, and I wasn’t going anywhere.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, my voice barely a breath.

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze fixed on some dark chasm only he could see. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, broken only by the steady drip of the showerhead. Eventually, he reached over and turned off the water. The steam billowed around us, wrapping us in a dense fog.

"Her name was Jackie," he said finally, his voice a whisper lost in the fog. "She was a friend of Annie’s. We were in college, and Annie practically forced us to go out so she could double date with Tom."

I hummed softly, encouraging him to continue. I didn’t understand why Jackie was surfacing now, but I had a sinking feeling she was the girl he’d mentioned earlier—the one who had made him feel small and worthless. Jackie. What a godawful name.

“She was one of those people who wore a mask around her friends and was someone else entirely when we were alone. I was 18, and she was pretty, so I let it slide. We had things in common, and we laughed a lot.”

He paused, drawing a shaky breath. “Her friends thought I was weird and didn’t want her with me. They’d been tight since middle school and still acted like high school mean girls. I didn’t care much for them either, but Jackie always said she didn’t care what they thought.”

My heart twisted in my chest. I had a gut-wrenching feeling where this was going, and it made me sick. My poor baby. I placed a hand on his knee in a futile attempt to comfort him.

“We’d been seeing each other for a few months, but we hadn’t done more than a few kisses and hugs. I was gearing up for my first professional championship swim meet, and she was buried in schoolwork. Double major or something, I don’t really remember.”

He took another deep breath. “Our clothes were off, and I was so nervous. She seemed okay with it. We just got dressed and watched a movie. We both knew that things weren’t going anywhere.”

“That’s normal, Jimin,” I murmured, trying to fill the void of silence. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He shook his head. “She told her friends, who told their friends, who then told everyone in my frat about what happened. Then she was too much of a coward to face me and acted like nothing had ever happened. I was humiliated, mortified. I just didn’t want to have sex anymore. The drinking started after, but that was more a side effect of being in a fraternity with undiagnosed depression.”

I was at a loss for words, so I stood up. Jimin watched me as I lowered myself onto his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him tight.

Even if it wasn’t some grotesque horror story, it was still a deep, festering wound. Trauma was trauma, regardless of its shape or size. This morning had uncovered more than either of us was willing to admit.

For Jimin, it was confronting his fears of rejection. For me, it was the struggle to finally move on from guilt and shame. Namjoon's face came to mind, and I had to make my brain stop itself from going there. He would want me to be happy. He would want me to live. I relaxed into him, hoping that we could both find a way to heal.

Jimin sucked in a few deep breaths before his arms enveloped my waist. He hiccuped once, then twice, and finally, he began to cry.

I buried my face in his hair, my own tears mingling with his. It was heart-wrenching to see him in such pain, but I felt deeply honored that he was finally allowing his walls to come down. For all my talk about suffering in silence, Jimin was far more adept at hiding his pain than I was.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “You didn’t deserve that.”

He cried harder and nodded. “I know,” he wailed.

I didn’t want to talk anymore. Holding him in my arms, this beautiful, broken boy, I wished I could keep him locked away in this bathroom forever, safe from the cruelties of the world. I didn’t care if my legs went numb from sitting or if the grip he had on my ribs was starting to hurt. Jimin cried, and I stayed in his lap, a silent promise to be there, come what may.

Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae

© chimcess, 2024. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[shootingmorningstar]

[slides on in] well hello there fellow lucifer fanatic

could i request some hcs with luci and an indecisive reader? gn and established relationship!! ex: he asks what they want for dinner and they panic trying to pick something because they feel like they need to decide right then and there or they’ll annoy him.

please and thank you! 🫶

anon, you're just like me fr. i also can never make up my mind and love lucifer. i'd be happy to write this for you .ᐟ

thank you for my first request, by the way ~ .ᐟ now to get to the good part.

LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X GN! INDECISIVE READER

Look at this man. This is the man who has piles upon piles of rubber ducks in his workshop. You cannot tell me Lucifer isn't also indecisive, at least when it comes to less serious things.

Seriously. You expect me to believe he hasn't looked at his own work and went 'nope, looks bad. starting over.' .ᐣ

With that being said, I think he would find it an incredibly endearing trait in you. The concentrated face you make when you're stuck between two options .ᐣ Absolutely adorable.

That is, until the unsure and conflicted look on your face morphs into one telling of your anxiety and worry.

Now, I hope you'll excuse the bird pun, but he is absolutely a mother hen type.

The second he sees even a hint of panic on your face .ᐣ He's immediately shifting all of his focus on you -- if it hadn't been already.

He's rushing over to you without you having to so much as ask -- his beloved partner, distressed .ᐣ No matter the reason, that won't do. He won't rest until he sees you smiling again.

Wrapping his arms around you in a hug, likely even his wings, too. He's suffered so many panic attacks before, he knows just how miserable they are.

He wishes you had come into his life earlier so you could of comforted him through the worst of his.

Even if your panic hasn't dissolved into a full blown attack, he is there. His touch is grounding, it helps you calm down and come back to reality.

When your heart's stopped racing and you look as if you're able to talk about it, he'll ask you just what has you so distressed.

Don't even bother trying to lie to him. He can tell when someone's hiding their feelings.

He won't force you to tell him, though. He just wants to know what went wrong so he can help prevent it from happening again.

If you decide to share your worries with him, he wouldn't belittle you in the slightest. Is it time you need .ᐣ You two have all the time in the world.

Would you rather he choose .ᐣ Because he wouldn't mind.

Or if it's something more serious, he offers to sit down with you and discuss the pros and cons of each -- maybe you two can come up with a decision together .ᐣ

His face sort of falls if you decide to tell him part of the reasoning behind your anxiety is a fear that you'll end up annoying him. Did he do something to make you think he'd judge you .ᐣ

Or maybe he got short with you .ᐣ He's so apologetic. He wants you to feel like you can share anything and everything with him.

He won't let himself start feeling overwhelmed with guilt, though. This moment is about you and the reassurance you need, not his guilt issues.

Explain to him that you know he'd never do such a thing and that it's just an irrational thought coming from worry and he's taking your face into his hands, telling you that he would never, ever think less of you, much less get upset over something as silly as struggling to make a choice.

Like he said earlier, let him help you choose. You two are stronger together and this is no exception.

He's always soft to you, but count on him being even more so than usual for the rest of the night. You two can watch your favorite show or movie -- or whatever you'd like to do to destress. ♡

first request finished ~ .ᐟ how'd I do .ᐣ i'd love to hear your thoughts. feedback fuels my writing muse more than anything else .ᐟ

i'm really hoping this formats correctly, i'm used to using the tumblr app && currently stuck on laptop </3

[beweepbomp]

I NEEDED TO URGENTLY VENT BECAUSE IDK WAHT ELSE TO DO.

A lil background. I knew my sexuality as like early as 12. I had two gfs but never anything physical. Now as adult trying to venture out to physical things with another woman. This person we will refer to as Lizzy, from the convos we had never was with a woman in any manner ever but interested to try with me. Okay now this is the insane shit i went thru. enjoy.

Lizzy matched on tinder with me and she asked after some great chit chatting to exchange #'s. Sounds great what could go wrong. After several back n forth spicy texts of what we want to do finally we say hey we should definitely meet up. A few days pass by to finally our meet up date. Science. Ghosted. Okay no biggie. 19 DAYS LATER “Hi i got busy how are you?” I brush it off things do happen and I’m trying to be reasonable. I reply with a hello. No reply again. 40 DAYS LATER “How are you?” At this point I roll my eyes. This is not worth the energy but wow she’s actually replying back idk maybe just shit happens. She tells me it’s been a busy summer travel & work. Okay fair. She shows me cute magnets she made and tells me she’s house sitting.

After a few text exchanges she’s asking me to come over. I get hesitant but she insists. WHAT COULD GO WRONG I SAY? I text her I’ll get ready and take an Uber over. Let me tell you i was giving femme hotness. My skirt was so hiked up. My cute shirt low v cut. Had a jean jacket since it was late into the night. I’m jittery with excitement. I call my best friend she gets the address and says to text me after etc. I order the Uber which was $30+ DOLLARS but i was too excited to care. In the middle of my Uber drive she texts she’s having a panic attack and throwing up. I feel awful. Did i freak her out? But i kept reassuring that we don’t need to do anything physical even when i arrive. No pressure. Assuring to have full consent before engaging in anything. But she insists she’s stuck in the bathroom throwing up and to turn around. Now I’m over 20 minutes away from my apartment around 11:30pm in the middle of the damn suburbs. I arrive and ask by text if i can just sit in the living room until the next Uber comes she says no. I’m outside alone in a foreign place terrified. I video chat with my best friend explaining the situation and she’s in shock as well. Putting me in danger in the middle of nowhere , just alone. Just perfect. My gay ass in the wind trying to remain calm since the streets are barely lit and i have no immediate way home. The connection to data is shitty but im able to order another Uber. Another $30+ out of to go back. But it’s fine no one’s fault right.

She insistently asks texting when my Uber will ber here. My connection isn’t great but it shows 9 minutes. It’s been at least 8 minutes now but the Uber isn’t properly showing the accurate time. My best friend what a god send kept me sane as i waited but a car pulls up and it definitely isn’t my Uber. “Oh i thought you were the girl im meeting with.” OH MY GOD i laugh almost loosing my mind. I point to her house, “oh no no she’s in there.’ Thankfully my Uber arrives as the guy calls out you’re beautiful. Oh thanks bud. Lizzy texts me to say that’s my friend helping me with my panic attack. of course i say seriously you have to be fucking joking. I freak out on her thru text and she insists she’d never intentionally try to put anyone in danger and every other excuse in the book and STILL try’s to see if we will meet up again. Of course i tell her she is fucking nuts and maybe next time be a hospitable hoe if you’re gonna be a hoe at all. I’m not against it but also don’t make a crazy lie and embarrass me. I have no idea im like crushed to seek out afraid to have the same experience of wacky shit. What do i do???? Help pls

[w2beastars]

Waezi2′s thoughts on “Beast Complex” chapter 24.

Paru is back at it again!

Meet South the Iguana.

South is a twenty-nine year old lizard. Saying he is an alcoholic might be an exaggeration... but he very much have an alcohol problem. Having sensitive skin and living in a very warm area, South needs to stay hydrated, but he choose to mainly drink beer instead of water. Partly because of how it affects his skin but also o make it easier for him to not think about his problems.

But then his excessive drinking is cock-blocked by a penguin inside the beer fridge... Still not the weirdest thing I ever wrote.

Yeah, a baby penguin somehow ended up in the store where South gets his favorite brand of beer. To stay cool in the very warm area South lives in, the little guy is now inside the beer fridge and refuse to leave. Begrudgingly, South takes the little penguin to his small apartment so the shop can stock up on beer again.

Having a guest in his home for the first time in ages, South realize that his place is not just dirty, it is rather empty. He sleeps on a mattress, has a fridge for his beer and food and a microwave oven for his meals. His home is about as pathetic as he is.

As South thinks about how his life is kind of a fart, we learn something... shocking about this iguana.

Something that you have never seen before in Beastars OR in Beast Complex. Something so odd that you might find it revolting. It will make you wonder if Paru was even more unhinged than she normally is while making this comic!

You see, South...

... was in a relationship with a female WHO IS THE SAME SPECIES AS HIM!

Trust me, dear reader. I'm as shocked as you are! A Beast Complex character who was NOT dating an animal completely different from them?!

What madness is this?!

Okay, seriously speaking.

We get some good ol' Paru symbolism as we see that South's life has for a while revolved around his fridge. Or rather, what is inside it. It got out of hand to the point that his (same-species?!?!?) girlfriend dumped him and his boss feeling so sorry for him that he makes him take a break instead of downright firing him.

So South drinks when he gets anxious. But his increasing drinking makes him more anxious, which results in him drinking even more, making him more anxious and so on. As he thinks about his boss and ex, he once again gets "thirsty" and practically tears his fridge oepn.

South would probably end up as a drunken waist... if not for his new "roommate."

See, the thing about depression is that you often ends up alone, either because the people around you lose their patience or you choose to be alone. And when you are alone with a minimum of interaction with the real world, you stop caring about the small things like cleaning your home, a proper diet and your economy.

Best thing to do is actually to be useful somehow. Like doing voluntary work or getting a pet. Or in this case, a penguin in your fridge. If you are of use for someone else, you feel a little better about yourself.

And that's what South is to the baby penguin he has named Sam(a reference to the Japanese word for "cold"). The two of them can't really talk since Sam is a sea animal and has a entirely different language.

Whenever South has his panic attacks and go for a beer, he is instead met by the fluffy little bird in the fridge. So South has to clean the fridge for penguin poop and also spend extra hours in his part-time job since he spends more money on electricity because of Sam being inside the fridge. As the days pass, South finds himself acting like, well... a functional adult.

One day, South gets a reason to panic again as he realize that Sam is losing his white coat and looks skinny instead of fluffy.

If you know a thing or two about penguins, then you will know that there is nothing to worry about. But South knows jack shit about these birds, so he rush him to a hospital on his bicycle.

On their way, they pass the ocean... and we get this majestic moment.

There was nothing to worry about, Sam is just growing up and losing his fluff, finally ready to leave his nest and get in the ocean.

A pair of dolphins are luckily near and South has managed to learn to speak a little sea language so he can ask the dolphins to escort the young penguin to Antarctica.

Despite Sam having left his apartment, South still have a little of Sam in his fridge as the penguin sends him letters on pieces of ice.

So South's life still revolves around his fridge so to say, just in a much healthier way.

This was such a nice tale about a guy rebuilding his life by having to be dependent for someone else.

... Even if South is a freak, dating a fellow iguana. BE A FURRY LIKE EVERYONE ELSE, SOUTH!

I'm Waezi2, and thanks for wasting time with me.

[i321u]

SUDDEN SHOWER. ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

anton lee is the only boy osaki yn will ever love. she'll make sure of that.

one. interstellar

words : 1.8k warnings : death mentions, grief, panic but not fully a panic attack.

previous ⌇ masterlist ⌇ next.

You groan, hands trying to hold onto the burning cement underneath you. It's a waking call the moment your nails— usually short, now quite long and sturdy— grind against the floor and you shiver. It feels like you've been hit with a basketball.

"Uh," a voice takes you out of your misery. Not really, but it serves as a distraction. "Is everything okay?"

Before your eyes, you can see a face you hadn't seen in months. He looks younger, like there's less weight on his shoulders.

Park Wonbin looks great. Only, he's staring at you like he's worried you might break, which means you probably don't look as good.

You nod, a little dumbfounded. Last time you heard from Wonbin, he had gone back to his dark hair and was teaching a dance class all the way in LA. You were proud of him for following his dreams; despite four years of university, he became a professional dancer with ease.

Still, you have missed him, so you let him help you up.

"Thank you," You rub your eyes, taking in your surroundings. It's sunny, and the campus you had left behind a few months ago stands tall before you. You blink as confusion sweeps through your body and takes hold of you. "What the hell..."

Wonbin, always a worrier, leans toward you. "Is something wrong? Does something hurt? I can get someone from health—"

"No! No, it's fine," you reply. "Thank you, anyway. I think I just hit my head, maybe."

"What? Then I definitely need to get someone from health," he rambles. "Wait here!"

He turns, ready to head over to wherever health is. Something paints itself inside your head: your freshman year orientation week, and the moment Sungchan introduced you to your boyfriend and his roommate. The way that simple moment turned your life around.

Nothing makes sense, and if you squint a little, you're almost sure you can see Intak in the distance.

"I'm okay! I swear," you call, but he doesn't stop. "Park Wonbin!"

That gets him. He stops, tilts his head before turning around. As he walks closer, his phone lights up on his hand, and the date screams at you. Red lights.

It makes no sense.

"How do you know my name?" Wonbin asks. Your mind is stuck on the date, though. "Oh my God, are you a stalker or something?"

"What? No!"

"Then how..." he trails off, like he's suddenly realized something. "You're Shotaro's sister! Oh, does he talk about me? Is that why you know me? I remember we ran into each other last year, when you were visiting! I panicked for a second."

You mumble, hoping he won't hear: "How do you talk so much, seriously..."

"So, what does he say?"

Your phone starts ringing in your pocket, a song you've always had for your brother as a ringtone. You grab the device, surprised at the way it feels so unnatural in your hand. It's been a while since you've held this model. With a grimace, you show the caller to Wonbin.

SHOTARO 🦇🌟, it reads. Wonbin smiles and lets you walk a few steps away.

"Hello?"

"Yah, your boyfriend is bothering me," Shotaro says as a greeting. You frown.

"What?"

"Dongmin is following me around, asking where you are."

In the background, you can hear a boy go: "My name is Taesan!"

Taesan, it sinks. Oh my God, Taesan. He switched universities before your third year, and you haven't heard from him since. His voice makes a knot appear in your throat.

"I'll be there in a second," you manage to say. "Tell him I miss him."

Shotaro fake gags. "I am not doing all that."

You laugh, but don't force him. Shotaro hangs up, and when you look at the phone, the same date from Wonbin's screen stares back at you: September 2024. You feel dizzy, but you don't let yourself process it. Instead, you go back to Wonbin and grab your backpack from the floor.

"My friends are looking for me," you let him know. "Thank you for helping, really."

He smiles. "My pleasure! Anything for Shotaro's little sister."

With a slight bow, you hurry towards the place of meeting you had assembled with your friends during the first week of university. It stood in place until your graduation. They're there, speaking to each other. Intak is coming from the other side, throwing an arm around Gyuvin and smiling big at his friends he left behind for a second.

They look well. Taesan looks well.

You start running.

"Taesan!" You call, your eyes filling with tears. You don't know if it's happiness or melancholy. Still, the moment he turns around, you throw yourself into his unprepared arms and send both of you to the floor.

By now, you're sure this is a very elaborate dream. Shotaro's still living in that old dorm building with Sungchan and Eunseok, and you can smell the food the moment you go inside. Eunseok is half sitting, half laying on the couch, watching old reruns of Running Man on the TV.

"YN!" Sungchan calls from the kitchen. It's an open floorplan, so you've got a great view of him wearing a KISS THE CHEF apron over his pajamas. The smile takes over on its own. "My mom dropped us food, and she made your favorite. I'm convinced she thinks your birthday is every month."

"She just likes me," you reply. "Maybe more than she likes you?"

Sungchan frowns, swinging the wooden spoon he's using to stir the food, and Shotaro moves you out of the way before sauce can get on you.

"Don't be a child, Chan."

"She started!"

You giggle. It feels so real, way too real. You let yourself sink into the dream as Shotaro guides you to the couch, settling against the armrest and letting you sit beside Eunseok, who pulls you closer to him. You have to fight the laugh as you catch the glare your brother sends his way.

"What do you wanna watch?" Eunseok asks, letting you get comfortable against him. "You're clingy, Jesus."

"You hugged me first," you retort. "Can we watch Interstellar?"

Your boyfriend's favorite movie is leaving your lips before you even realize. Shotaro shoves you a little, further into Eunseok's arms.

"You hate that movie," he says.

It's sort of true. You don't hate it— never did— but... it was never your taste until your boyfriend forced you to watch it almost every weekend. Then, it became something that wasn't about the movie but rather about him. If this is a dream, you'll let yourself really sink into pleasure.

Eunseok puts on the movie, and you silently watch the beginning with slightly teary eyes. At some point, Sungchan brings food to the living room table and you all sit around it, chewing on tteokbokki and letting Shotaro feed you samgyeopsal. The atmosphere is warm, cozy.

You feel at home.

"Today I'm the age you were when you left..." the TV is speaking, but it has become static over your ears. You remember the first time you watched this scene with your boyfriend, letting him lean into you as he teared up.

Most of all, you remember giggling at him and calling him baby. For the first time, you called him baby.

"What did you call me?" Anton had said through the tears. His voice was tight, but he was smiling. "Say it again, please."

"I called you your name," you tease.

"No! Say it again, please."

He'd been looking at you like a puppy, overexcited and so happy it ached. You laughed louder. "Okay, baby."

Then, Anton had hugged you so tight you couldn't breathe. "I'm your baby? Yeah, I am. Of course I am."

"God, are you talking to yourself again?"

You blink, standing up too quickly. The three boys that surround you startle, and they just watch as you run into the hallway that leads to their rooms and lock yourself into the first one. You've forgotten which room is whose, but you think this is Sungchan's: it's got the basketball trophies, and the pictures of him and his family.

There's a knock on the door. Shotaro's voice comes through. "YN? Are you okay?"

You don't reply. If this is a dream, you think. It's time to wake up. Closing your eyes tight, you cling to your thighs until it burns. Once I open my eyes, I'll be back in Shotaro's room, and I'll be older than I've ever been. You do: you open your eyes, but you find yourself still in Sungchan's senior year room.

You start panicking. It's hard to tell where the panic came from, but it takes over within seconds. Images of the last time you were awake start flashing by: the hospital, the river. Anton, Anton, Anton. 3:45. You throw your jacket off and on the floor beside you, hearing the way something in your pocket clangs against the wooden planks.

With shaky hands, you sink your hand into the right pocket of your jacket. There, nestled between receipts and a packet of tissues, lays a watch. You take it out.

It's cracked exactly where Anton's watch had been last night, and the metal is scratched in the same places. It reads 3:39, like the world is messing with you. It tells you the watch died before he did.

You let out a sob.

"YN, I'm coming in." Eunseok's voice drags into the room from underneath the door. "Okay? I just need to make sure you're alright."

"Mhm," you hum. It's weak, but you believe he heard, because he comes inside. Carefully, he walks towards your shaking body, and he drops beside you. "Is this a dream?"

"Huh?"

"This? Is it a dream?" You repeat yourself. "It has lasted for so long."

Eunseok looks worried. "This isn't a dream, YN."

You look at the watch, broken exactly how it had been last night. You feel the weight of him leaving your side crash against your shoulders, and you regret ever letting him leave your bed that morning.

"Hey, a kid in our floor has the same one," he points to the watch. Eunseok is clearly trying to distract you from your rising panic. "He said he got it in—"

"— in New York," you finish for him. "He got it in New York, yeah?"

Eunseok makes a noise of agreement. "Do you know him? His name is Lee Chanyoung, but he goes by Anton."

"Seok," you whisper. He hums, and you pinch your arm before saying the next sentence. It hurts. "I think I'm in the past."

taglist ( open! ) : @tocupid @yyangj3lly

( ... 💥 ) okay! i have to set the scene, so the first two chapters are sort of... connected. they happen one after the other. let me know what u think of my writing... also not all chapters will be like this! some will be fully social media, i just need to lay down the grounds to work over.

i321u © 2024.