#but i definitely felt that needle going into my arm and my arm definitely hurts now

[mrs-weasley-reid]

SAY DON'T GO

Spencer Reid x bau!reader

Sypnosis: Nothing hurts more than the fear of losing you. Word Count: 1600+ WARNING: Angst. mentions of death, blood, gunshot A/N: I wrote this in a haste, literally ten minutes ago, while listening to Say Don't Go (Taylor's Version) by mother Taylor Swift. It's definitely not perfect, but I was definitely in the zone when I wrote it, lol.

A gunshot.

Everything fades into a muffle. You blink once, twice, thrice... A wince connects your brows. As if you're figuring out if the oozing feeling on your abdomen should be causing you pain or ease.

Suddenly, Spencer's running to you. You think he's screaming. You hear nothing. There's only ringing in your ears. A thin, high-pitched ring that pierces through your brain.

You drop on the precinct's carpet floor, caressing your stomach like it's enough to stop yourself from bleeding out. You look at Spencer, "When'd you get here?" You ask, disoriented. You instantly pay attention to his watery eyes. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?" You reach to cup his cheek. You are shocked when you see your hand covered in red, smearing the liquid on his skin. Your eyes widen, "Oh, my god?! You're hurt! Spence—" You try to sit up, but a wave of stinging pain makes you fall back in his arms.

"WHERE'S THE MEDIC?!" Spencer's voice echoes in the entire place. He turns to you, unsure if he is even allowed to have you in his arms. He doesn't dwell on it as he holds your hand on his cheek, squeezing it. "Hey, hey! Breathe for me, yeah? Stay with me." He swallows a sob, placing pressure on your abdomen. "Please, stay with me..."

"I'm hurt?" Stupor begins to steal you out of consciousness. You blink. A bright light blinds your vision.

Once you open your eyes, you're back in Spencer's apartment. He's standing across the room while your feet are rooted at the door. He doesn't look at you. No. He's afraid to look at you.

His hands are buried in his pockets. He's wearing a nice suit. Fitted just for him. His tie is a dark shade of purple. You gave him that tie for his birthday last year. It's loose. His hair is a mess. And his face... it's wet.

He's crying.

You're crying.

"I think you should go," Spencer takes a gulp as he stares at the floor. Like it'd kill him if he looked at you.

You inhale deeply, sniffing as you wipe a tear with the back of your hand, "We don't have to do this, Spence. You don't have to do this."

"Yes, we do!" For the first time in what feels like forever, he finally lifts his gaze at you. His hazel eyes are rimmed with red heat, overflowing with tears. He's hurt. He's hurt, too.

"Is it really that horrible to love me?" You sob. You can hear your heart slowly shatter. Pins and needles knock on your chest. You wonder if you're still breathing right. "Am I that ugly—"

"You know that's not true, sweetheart." You hate that the nickname gives you butterflies. How his words, awful and insensitive, still made you attentively listen. How his voice still makes you want to hear more. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever met."

"Then why?!" You felt like a child throwing a tantrum. "Why are you putting a distance between us?" You bite your lower lip to stop it from quivering. "Why is it such a crime to be together?"

Spencer shifts his gaze to somewhere else. He runs a hand through his hair. You notice the coffee stain at the cuff of his sleeve. Then, you see the smudge of red lipstick past the line of his lips. Your red lipstick. He bought that lipstick a few months ago. No reason. Just for the fun of it.

Is it bad that you think he still looks handsome under the sun's setting light? Even when his hair is arrayed in different directions? Even when his face is drenched with his own tears?

He breathes deeply, audibly, "We're in the same line of work. You know better than to think we're going to work. News flash, sweetheart. It won't. It's not worth it." He can't look at you. He's ashamed to look at you.

"Not... worth it?" You blink. You stare at him with disgust, "So— So what? We're nothing, but we fuck? We're nothing, but we flirt? We're nothing, but you love me? Please, explain it to me because I'm having a difficult time understanding the stupid shit of a point you're making."

Spencer gulps for the nth time, "You love me."

"What?" You regret wanting to meet his eyes because now that he's staring at yours with such unfamiliarity, it hurts.

"You love me. You said you love me. I never said anything."

You're definitely not breathing right.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

"Inhale, exhale... Yeah, that's right, sweetheart. Just follow me." Spencer holds your hand tight as the paramedics do their best to stop you from bleeding out. His voice sounds heartbreaking.

His voice...

You blink. Your hearing's back. You do as he says, inhaling and exhaling as he does. You feel lightheaded, like you're floating on a cloud.

Spencer keeps his and your hands intertwined. He follows while the paramedics roll you into the ambulance. "Hang in there, sweetheart. Please, hang in there." His face is a mess. He doesn't stop crying, swallowing his sobs.

You smile into the oxygen mask, blinking. You're on the verge of dying, and yet you find humor in knowing Spencer's tells. "You swallow when you're scared... don't be scared, Spence." You say it in broken words and in an almost soundless voice.

"I'm not," He denies, wiping his tears aggressively. He is. He's scared to the bone.

"The bullet shattered to her chest," The paramedic who inspects your chest claims, looking at her partner with worry.

"W-what?" Spencer stutters, stealing a glimpse down your neck. "No, no, sweetheart. Stay with me. Stay with me." He sees the way you flutter your eyes, fighting to stay conscious, listening to his pleas. And how you suddenly stopped, never opening your eyes back up. "Don't— Don't close your eyes! Sweetheart, please don't go. Please, don't—" He looks up at the sound of your vitals plummeting. He quickly looks back at your face, saying your name like it's a prayer.

The machine flatlines, and the paramedic pushes Spencer aside to perform resuscitation. "Sir, let us do our job." One of them says, two inches deep as she manually restarts your heart.

Spencer shoves himself in the corner of the ambulance. He wraps his arms around him. "Please, don't go..." His voice cracks and transitions into writhing sobs as he watches your body go limp with each surge of electricity that shocks your skin.

Then he thinks of that night.

He thinks of the image of you standing by the door. You don't want to go. He doesn't want you to go.

But you have to... because if you don't, he'll run to you and never let you go. So, he tells you to leave. You protest.

So stubborn. He cries in his head, wishing that you hadn't made things difficult for being so beautiful even when you're crying.

"You love me. You said you love me. I never said anything." His body shakes on the spot. His mouth goes dry. His chest compresses. He lies through his teeth.

Spencer saw the way your face turned into a ghost. He's done it.

He broke you.

He hurt you.

No turning back. No way of fixing it.

"Ah..." You say softly, nodding. "Checks out." You add without a sign of sarcasm. You stare into the air for a minute. You let the silence hover and hunt Spencer for a moment. You let him realize the pain, the stupidity of it all. "I think I should leave..." Your eyes say otherwise.

Please say, "Don't go." Tell me not to leave. Run to me... please.

You wonder if he knows it or chooses to ignore the way you held your tears. If he caught on all your tells. Because you knew he wasn't true. You knew he knew that you could read him like the back of your hand.

"Yeah," Spencer straightens his back, "I think you should."

You purse your lips into a thin line and nod, "Okay," You turn around. You take three seconds to grab the knob, but when the time has run out, you are out in a heartbeat.

"Spencer."

JJ appears in Spencer's vision. "Spencer, are you okay?" Her face was covered with worry as she placed two hands on his shoulders. She exchanges looks with Derek and Aaron.

They were there when it all went down. When the unsub came out of nowhere and started shooting. You were the first shot.

Spencer cranes his neck around. He's in the waiting room. He doesn't remember when or how he got there. All he remembers is the defibrillator jolting your unresponsive body more than once. His eyes widen. He says your name in haste as he stands up, "Where is she? Where— Where..."

Derek holds him back, "She's in surgery, Reid. Did you forget?" He asks, gently pushing Spencer back onto his seat.

"She was dead for three minutes... They couldn't find a pulse for three minutes." Spencer announces at a loss. He looks down at his hand, at the cheap friendship bracelet around his wrist. The one you made in your first year with the team as a last-minute birthday gift. He breaks into a sob, covering his eyes as if to push them back inside his tear ducts.

"So?" Derek catches Spencer's hands off his face, "She's been in surgery for thirty minutes. Her heart started beating again, and it had been for thirty minutes. She's fighting, man. At least fight with her before you wallow like a ninny."

"Morgan," Aaron warns but silently agrees.

You're fighting for your life, so they should, too.

You're not ready to go.

You don't want to go.

Spencer nods and wipes his face. He sniffs and takes a deep breath. He glances at the door to the operating room like he has x-ray vision, "Don't go."

reid masterlist | masterlist

[smashboxgirl26]

i crumble completely when you cry

ph! katsuki bakugou x fem! reader summary: this wasn't the way it was supposed to happen, but sometimes mistakes yield the best results contains: proposal!! (for @/pityslash <33), kinda ooc soft bakugou but im blaming it on him getting a concussion, mentions of injury, lots of fluff hehe word count: 1.8k words masterlist

Katsuki awoke to a darkened room with white, tiled speckled ceiling cut into rectangles and an IV in his arm; you were sleeping in the plastic chair at his bedside, head leaning against the wall and your mouth slightly open. It was probably about two or three in the morning, judging by the dimmed light coming from the hospital hallway.

Fuck.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He shifted around slightly under the thin sheets, grunting as he tried to move his (apparently broken) right arm to fit in the pocket of his hero costume. A sigh of relief pushed past his lips when he felt the little velvet box still stashed away, thankfully left untouched.

And god– fuck did his head hurt… but this wasn’t how the night was supposed to go.

You were still dressed up — makeup and all, heels sitting next to you on the floor, the pretty black satin dress he watched you show off before you both left for dinner: now bunched up in your lap between your palms as you slept. 

You were definitely going to complain about the crook in your neck when you woke up from the way your head was angled against the wall. You should’ve just gone home and slept properly in bed: but he knew arguing with you would’ve been fruitless — you’d refuse to leave his side like you always did. 

Katsuki let out a small huff as he stared back up at the darkened ceiling.

This was supposed to be your anniversary. He had it all planned out: flowers, dinner, taking a walk through the park near the apartment to get ice cream, proposing in the little ramada he’d gotten Hanta and Eijirou to decorate with fairy lights and flowers. His mother’s old engagement ring was what he’d nervously tucked away into his suit pocket earlier that evening; she’d given it to him the first time you met her — as if she just knew the outcome of your relationship. 

And yet, not even halfway through dinner he’d gotten a call about a villain spiraling out of control. 

He knew his apology was lacking when he pushed himself up from the table, telling you he’d be back as fast as he possibly could; and he could tell how disappointed you were at the fact he was leaving despite how you playfully urged him to hurry before you ate all the dessert without him.

He’d slipped the ring in his costume pocket thinking he would make it back in time for your walk in the park — but that went out the window the second he was caught off guard and blasted through an apartment building.

You shifted slightly, against your spot on the wall. Katsuki almost thought it was because he was thinking too loud.

Your eyes opened after a moment or two, and blinked once or twice at him before realizing his eyes were also open.

“You’re awake?” you asked groggily, scrubbing your eyes before pulling yourself up from the chair. “Let me go get the nurse–”

“S’fine,” he stopped you before you could get out the door, lifting his head off the pillow because he knew you would come over and scold him for it.

Shit he felt dizzy.

“Don’t move right now,” you chastised him — immediately abandoning your mission to rush back to his side and help him lay his head back down on the pillow. “Is that comfortable?”

“Yea,” he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “Don’ get the nurse yet… I don’ really want more fuckin’ needles in my arm right now.”

“...fine.” You pressed your lips together, concealing the lecture he knew you wanted to spew: him never being careful when he promised he would be being main point among those you wanted to address — yet you pulled the hard, plastic chair you were sitting in up to the bed and leaned against the mattress.

“...do you feel dizzy?”

“Yeah.”

“You got a concussion from your fall,” you turned your head to look towards the side, and he couldn’t see your expression anymore in the dimmed light from the lamp next to his bedside. “You also broke your arm from landing on it.”

“You saw?”

“It was on the news.”

You sounded on the verge of tears. He needed to apologize. He’d ruined your night.

“M’sorry,” he let his left hand drift over to where yours was laying on the bed next to him, his fingers catching between your own — grabbing you out of your dazed attention — “M’sorry I ruined our night.”

“You didn’t ruin anything Katsuki,” you shook your head, but he could hear the little edge of pain in your voice. “It’s not your fault… I was just worried.”

“I did, though,” he continued. “Tonight was s’posed to be just us walkin’ through the park n’ getting ice cream.”

“You had it all planned out huh?” You finally faced him again, tired eyes and a small, sad smile on your lips. 

“F’course I did, would y’expect anythin’ less from me?” 

“Of course not,” you humored him, bringing his knuckles up to your lips before planting a kiss over a small scab and pressing your cheek against it — staring faraway, somewhere his mind could never find yours.

“Why didn’t you go home?” he rubbed his thumb against yours. “Could’ve changed and been comfortable.”

You let out a small huff — “I couldn’t just leave you here. I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”

“You didn’t have to worry about me, baby. Y’should’ve slept comfortably at home, come and seen me in the morning.”

You didn’t answer; instead, pressed another kiss against his knuckles before letting his hand come back down to the bed.

“If you saw what I did, you wouldn’t be saying that.” — was all you left it at — you tried to get up to get the nurse, but he didn’t let your hand go. “Katsuki–”

“Just let me be a lil’ longer,” he slurred, drowsily. “Come lay down with me.”

“Kats–”

“Please.”

“How could I–”

“Please.” He repeated, and you gave up to the pleading look in his eyes. “Can’t sleep properly without you there.”

He shifted himself over slightly, watching you hold your tongue once again with a little snort, before patting at the spot next to him. You climbed up slowly, carefully, trying to be as light as possible to not let the little hospital bed creak under both your weights — letting yourself melt next to him, your hand resting over his chest. You didn’t say anything, just nestled yourself into his shoulder with a yawn.

Something about the way you were positioned made it feel like you were hesitant to touch him — as he was as fragile as glass. Even with your fingers resting over his abdomen, he barely felt them there.

“What’s got your mind all worked up?” he asked after what felt like hours of silence.

“...nothing.”

“I know when yer overthinkin’ baby.”

You looked up to him, sad eyes and all. “I was really worried.” You sniffed, burrowing yourself back next to him. “I was just sitting in the restaurant finishing my food until I got a notification on my phone about the news — and I clicked it and saw the video of you being blasted through the building. There was so much debris, I almost thought–I don’t know what I thought… It felt like I couldn’t breathe or–or think… I just ran out of there as fast as I could so I could get to the hospital. And then, when you wake up, your first concern is that you ruined the night?” You huff, angrily and under your breath but you didn’t let him see it. “I can’t believe you sometimes…” 

“M’sorry,” he repeated, this time drowsily— despite the disapproving click you let out in response, he wrapped his arm around you: rubbing small circles in your arm to soothe the tension you continued to let off. These situations were the only times you both switched roles; the only time he was the one who had to calm you down when usually it was the opposite.

“Stop saying that.”

“I am though,” he continued anyway. “For making you worry and cry when I should’ve been careful. I got a little reckless tryin’ to get back to you quickly. I just… didn’t wanna leave you stranded there.”

“You didn’t need to do that,” you almost scolded him. “I’m used to it, I understand what your job is like.”

“Told you though, I had it all planned out n’ shit — stupid bastard ruined it all…”

“It’s okay,” you pacified him. “It was just dinner, we can always go out another time.”

“It wasn’t just dinner though…” He stopped himself from continuing, but looking down at your furrowed brow knew that he’d have to give an explanation. 

“We’ve talked about marriage before—” he started again after a moment of silence. A moment to catch his breath, to let his racing thoughts and heart subside slightly. “—about us staying together like this because we couldn’t really ever see ourselves with anyone else.”

You nodded.

“And I thought–I knew that we were both ready… So I was gonna propose.”

You didn’t say anything, and he didn’t dare look down at your face — not when he could feel the heat rushing up to his face like he was about to pass out.

“I uh, had this whole speech planned out n’ everything,” he stared at the ceiling once more. “Even had Ei n’ Hanta set up flowers and candles in the park near that cherry blossom tree we always picnic near.”

You still didn’t say anything.

“M’sorry for just bringing it up now, and spoiling the surprise ‘cause I could’ve just done it later…”

“...are you really apologizing for telling me that you were going to propose?” you spoke after a moment. 

He could hear the slight crack in your voice, and he looked down to see that his suspicions were correct — you were crying.

“Don’ cry,” he tried to wipe them with fail because he could only use one arm. “You know I get sad when you cry.”

“I can’t help it.” 

 “I know that this isn’t where you probably expected to get proposed to, but everything I said is true — I wanna spend the rest of my life with you n’ get those little moments with you. N’ honestly, as long as we have that, I don’t think it matters where this shit happens.” He shifted around slightly, before you could stop him: sitting up to properly face you and pulling a little velvet box out from his pocket. “Marry me?”

“Of course I will,” you tried to wipe away your tears before falling into his embrace — pausing after he let out a hissing sound. “I’m calling the nurse for real now.”

[inbabylontheywept]

your life stories are always so interesting so i shall poke a stick into the cage and ask for more. do you have any fun stories of near death experiences? personally i choked on a lifesaver as a child and could not breathe

personally? not really. ive got a pretty decent hospital story though.

see, my grandpa was in charge of the easter pageant in my state. its a big mormon thing, a lot of other churches come because its just good easter worship. anyway, in part of the pageant, theres a pony for jesus and mary to ride around on. technically supposed to be a donkey, but ponys are just so much more photogenic. anyway this happened when my little sister was going through her little-girl-pony phase, so this was so major-league shit to her. so much so that my grandpa, who i still miss so much, brought this pony to our house so she could ride it.

my little brother? he also wanted to ride it. and i didnt really want to ride it, but they were both so small someone kind of needed to hold those two onboard, and i was the lighest person capable of doing so, (didnt want to overload the pony) so i went on the back too.

and it was a stellar time until the donkey went under a tree, then my little sister hit her head on a branch and fell left, and her fall took my little brother out because he was holding onto her, and both of them took me out, so we all fell off the pony, but me with 2 kids on my left arm.

god blessed me with a third elbow that day.

here are the things that followed after the Miracle of the Third Elbow

my autistic dad came outside to check on me. id broken my arm the year before, so i knew what it was, and i knew what it felt like, so i was able to pretty clearly go "yeah, dad, i broke my arm." and he was able to go "whew. yeah. thats like, harry potter broken." and i was able to say "yeah. yeah it hurts pretty bad." and he said "oh, yeah, definitely. that looks horrible." and then i basically said something like "hopital" and he was like "right" and then we left. my memory after that gets weird.

i can remember driving up main street, and seeing this guy dancing. like, full on dancing down the street. and i asked my dad about why that guy was dancing, and he said that man was a schizophrenic, and he was medicated, but the medication had just made it so that his voices told him to dance instead of hurt himself. now he danced all the time. i should clarify that my dad worked in the ER so he knew a lot of the local homeless on a life-story kind of level. my dads a good guy.

i can remember sitting in the waiting room with a magician that had sliced his right hand open pretty bad while cooking. he was trying his best to keep us entertained with his cards, but because he was doing all his tricks left handed, he'd mess them up sometimes and it was actually kind of more fun to watch than just him in expert mode. another good guy. very friendly, but visibly repulsed by my arm.

i can remember being in a bed, and a nurse coming up to me and saying that they could give me some painkillers, which i was super stoked about, but the IV from the painkillers basically required being stabbed with a needle as thick around as a pencil. she recomended saying the alphabet backwards when she put the needle in, and i said i didn't know how, and then she stuck in the needle in. over 4 seconds i was able to go from z to c, a feat i have never since been able to replicate.

after the painkillers, i watched a tv show called Jackie Chan Adventures, which was an animated cartoon with an animated Jackie Chan, voiced by the real Jackie Chan, solving mysteries. i actually assumed that whole thing was a hallucination until i was an adult, and i was describing it to my wife, and she was like "no, that actually happened." which was funny to happen to me, because when me and her started dating, she just kind of dropped how awesome it was that obama was the first muslim president, and i was like what, no hes an episcopalian, and it turns out that her dad, who sucks for many reasons, had told her that obama was a muslim, and she was sweet enough to believe that, and also to just be like oh, neat, our president is black and a muslim, we are truly moving forward as a counry." i love her so much.

no memories of it after that. not even sure when i got home. just a straight up weird time.

[starlightkun]

➠ word count: 21.3k ➠ warnings: cursing, once again everything i know about hockey is from the internet and only for this fic i’m sorry, a couple different blood/injury mentions, needle/injection mention and descriptions, mentions of other medical testing/settings, just chronically ill girlie things 🤪 ➠ genre: fluff, sooo much fluff they’re sooo in love tbh, a bit of hurt/comfort sprinkled in, established relationship, college au, hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), christmas-y for a couple scenes in the middle, sequel to buzzer beater ➠ extra info: this is the sequel to buzzer beater, which you should definitely read before this one so you know what’s going on! the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines, experiences as a chronically ill person, and thoughts about being chronically ill are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines/chronic illnesses, but i am sending all my love to any readers out there living with a chronic illness, and here’s a reminder to go take your meds! ➠ author’s note: i’m sooo down astronomically bad for hockey player sungchan and i hope you all are too bc take a look at that word count lol. anyway have fun!! ➠ series masterlist | spotify playlist

You felt more giggle than human at this point, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his collar to hide it from him and get a moment to recover your aching smile muscles. He hugged you even tighter to him, resting his chin on your head.

i. i will give you my palm to help you walk through the hurtful, want to give you that calm that you have so long searched for

[sicheng: come get your mans]

The random text from Sicheng made you shoot up on your couch. Hockey practice was happening right now, you were expecting Sungchan to come over to your place after—and also to not be getting texts from anybody on the team at the moment.

[you: hello? what?]

[sicheng: no seriously come pick him up he took a puck to the face]

You rushed through the automatic doors into the rink, looking around for any sign of paramedics or— The rest of the team was still practicing, and there was no obvious bright red blood on the ice, that was a good sign, at least. Nobody on the ice seemed to have even noticed your entrance. Okay, so maybe not a huge emergency then.

Taking a couple steps down the hallway that led into the locker room, you called out, “Sungchan? Sicheng?”

“Yeah! In here!” Sicheng replied. “You can come in!”

Throwing the door open, you immediately saw the goalie standing over Sungchan, who was sat on one of the benches, holding a rag up to his face. The white towel was blotted with crimson blood, and you gasped.

“Sungchan!” You darted towards them.

Sungchan lowered his hand, and you could finally see some of the damage. The blood was streaming down from a gash on the right side of his forehead, by his hairline.

No black eyes, though.

He gave you a wincing smile, and you thankfully saw all of his teeth still there. “Y/N, hey...”

You looked down at him incredulously, “How did you even—”

“I’m okay, baby,” he reassured you, reaching out with his free hand to squeeze your forearm.

“That’s not what I said. Aren’t you supposed to be wearing a helmet and visor out there? How did you get a puck to your bare forehead?”

“I’ll leave him to you,” Sicheng declared, backing away from you two. “I’ve got to get back to practice.”

“I wasn’t on the ice,” Sungchan explained. “I was talking to Sicheng by the gate. Rogue puck, he ducked in time, I didn’t.”

You knew whereabouts on the rink he was talking about. The school’s rink was also used for ice skating for some extra money, and had a separate entrance onto the ice for those patrons aside from the entrance from the players’ benches. Since he wasn’t anywhere on the ice, Sungchan must’ve felt comfortable taking his helmet off.

“And you didn’t have your helmet on.”

“Well, yeah,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Open gate, no helmet, rogue puck to the face,” you summarized, taking the towel from his hand to wipe up a drop of blood that had been inching down his temple while you two spoke. It at least wasn’t bleeding as profusely as before, the blood starting to coagulate.

“Really, isn’t it Sicheng’s fault? For ducking? He had a helmet on, he would’ve been fine if it hit him.”

“Mm, of course. Blame the guy with better reflexes than you.” You tossed the rag into the team laundry basket in the corner. “Alright, get changed, I’m taking you home.”

“Okay,” he agreed with a great sigh, bending over to untie his skates, then immediately sat back up. “Woah…”

As Sungchan blinked quickly to get reoriented, you dropped to one knee in front of him to start undoing his laces. “Lightheaded?”

“A bit…”

“I don’t know if I should be hoping for blood loss or concussion.”

After you’d gotten his skates off him, he was able to change out of his uniform and into casual clothes on his own. Slinging his practice bag over your shoulder, you handed his gear bag to him, knowing that you wouldn’t quite be able to manage that yourself. Without even waiting for him, you grabbed his arm to wrap it around your shoulders and snaked yours around his waist, the memory of him getting lightheaded replaying in your mind.

As the two of you left the cold rink into the equally cold December air, you kept an eye on Sungchan for any signs of him needing medical attention beyond your capabilities. Aside from the injury itself, he seemed fine, just with a slightly jutted-out bottom lip as he kept his eyes trained on the ground in front of his feet.

“What’s the pouty face for?” You asked.

“I’m not pouting.” Sungchan resisted.

“Yes you are. You look like a 186-centimeter baby. What’s wrong? Other than your acute case of puck face.”

The pout become even more prominent as he mumbled, “It’s like you’re not even worried about me...”

“Ah, of course I’m worried about my Sungchannie,” you promised, pulling him even closer with the arm you had around his waist. You moved it up to rub his back as you leaned your head against him affectionately. “I’m just so used to seeing guys get their teeth knocked out and their noses broken at your games that when Sicheng said you got a puck to the face, that’s what I was expecting to see. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it seem like I didn’t care. I was just relieved, is all.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded firmly. “Besides, I’m clearly worried enough to take you home and patch you up myself.”

“You are?” He asked hopefully.

“Oh yeah, I’ve got this first aid kit that’s about as big as you are. You’re going to be good as new, baby boy.”

His face finally cracked into a smile. “Why do you have a first aid kit that big?”

“It was the only one at the store that came with alcohol wipes. I need them for my monthly injection, to disinfect the injection site.”

“Right.” He squeezed your upper arm. “Of course, the girl that has to have an entire pharmacy in her kitchen.”

You nudged him with your shoulder teasingly, “And my Sungchannie, who has to take hockey pucks to the face.”

Once the two of you had arrived at your apartment, you immediately pointed to your couch. “Sit.”

Sungchan obeyed easily, plopping down without another word. He took off a couple layers now that you weren’t in the biting winter cold, setting them on the cushion beside him as you bustled over to your kitchen.

“My head hurts,” he announced, sounding downright pitiful.

“Really? Your head hurts?” You pouted at him, getting on your tiptoes to pull down your massive first aid kit from your cabinet.

“Uh-huh.”

“Aw, my poor Sungchannie,” you cooed, setting the huge first aid kit down on the coffee table and popping it open.

The apartment heating had kicked on, so you finally took off your heavy parka and overcoat as well, leaving you just in the base lounge clothes you’d been in before you’d hurried to get dressed with the urgent texts from Sicheng.

First, you tipped a couple of over-the-counter painkillers into his waiting hand, and he knocked them back with a sip from his water bottle.

Grabbing a couple alcohol swabs and boxes of bandages, you asked, “Okay, Hello Kitty, spaceships, or Pokémon?”

“Mm… What kind of Pokémon?”

“First gen. I think it’s mostly Gengars and Psyducks left in there.”

“A Gengar please,” he requested sweetly.

You fished a bandage out, pre-ripping the end of the packaging before setting it on the arm of the couch. Standing in between Sungchan’s legs as he was reclined back on your couch, you leaned over him, very gingerly brushing his hair back from his forehead so you could see the injury better. Thankfully, the bleeding had stopped between the rink and your place, all clotted blood and the start of scabs. Less thankfully for him, you were about to sanitize all of that. Gently turning his head so you could get better light, you tore open the first alcohol wipe and lightly touched it to the very edge of where you thought the wound started. Sungchan’s forehead wrinkled, but he didn’t make a sound. You continued at your task for another second before he finally spoke up.

“Y/N.”

“Sorry, I know it stings, but I’m almost done.” You promised. “I’d go faster but the lighting isn’t great in here, and some of it goes into your hair.”

“Don’t you think you’d be able to see better…” A pair of hands grabbed your hips, encouraging you closer, closer, down, down, until you were straddling Sungchan's lap, a knee on either side of him. “Like this?”

You were about to make a retort, except this tragically did get your own head out of the way enough to stop casting a shadow where you needed. So instead, you looked down at him with an eyebrow raised.

“How injured are you, really?” You questioned, pink-tinged alcohol wipe still in hand.

“So injured,” he fake-whined, settling his hands on your thighs.

“I’m sure.” But you made no move to leave, instead leaning in and getting back to work cleaning up the area.

Sungchan provided no more obvious distraction to you as you did so, seeming content to just smooth his thumbs over your clothed thighs and trace shapes there with his fingers. When you were finally able to see where the skin was split, you frowned, using your fingers to part his hair and inspect how far back it went.

“How long do I have, Doc?” He joked.

“You’ll live, but the bandages aren’t going to help the part that’s in your hair,” you forewarned. “That means be gentle when shampooing while its healing.”

“Sounds complicated. What if I mess it up? I think you should do it for me,” he suggested with a smirk, fingertips playing with the hem of your sweatshirt— well, really it was his sweatshirt, but he’d forfeited it to you some time ago.

“Is there something about getting injured that just turns you into a horndog?” You scoffed. For emphasis, you pinched the sliver of skin on his stomach that was exposed where his own t-shirt had ridden up above the hem of his pants and boxers.

He sat up then, forcing you to lean back to avoid smacking faces, but he just chased you forward until you were nearly nose-to-nose.

“No, there’s something about you being so worried and taking such good care of me that makes me want to show you how much I adore… you… back...” He punctuated the last three words with kisses that went up your neck to your jaw.

You looked up at the ceiling, as if pretending to consider this reason. But the happy smile that was working its way across your lips clearly gave away the fact that your mind was already made up. You snaked a hand between the two of you to push him back against the couch by the chest and hold him there.

“Alright, but at least let me put this Gengar bandage on you first, hm?”

ii. you are so beautifully, so brutally out of comprehension, and how lonely i was in the before and after

With a sigh, you rolled over in bed and checked the time. One hour until Sungchan was supposed to pick you up. It felt like somebody was slowly squeezing your head in some kind of medieval torture machine. There was no way this migraine was going away before your date. When it’d come on within thirty minutes of you waking up, you were hopeful that it’d pass and you could still make it, but clearly you had no such luck.

You sullenly drafted your text to him.

[you: hey, channie, im really sorry about this. i know we were supposed to go skating this afternoon but i’ve got a migraine, so i have to cancel]

Of all the dates that you had to flake out on. Sungchan had been really excited to take you to the rink during one of their open skate times, to share something he loved with you, and you were looking forward to it too. While you weren’t the best at ice skating, you were going to have the captain of the hockey team with you, so you hadn’t been too terribly concerned about your safety. The way his eyes had lit up when you said yes in the first place. God... you felt awful. In the back of your mind, you knew that you were just going to reschedule but still, it just made your head hurt worse to think about.

Ten minutes later, and he had texted back.

[channie: do you want some company?]

[you: ah, you really don’t have to. i’m sure you’ve got other things you need to do]

[channie: 1. i already cleared out my day for you 2. i want to be there with you and 3. i’m already outside]

You smiled at the harsh, painful light of your phone screen, reading the third bulletpoint over again as you typed your response.

[you: spare key under the fucked up looking gnome]

The door to your bedroom was slowly opened just a few moments later, and you wordlessly rolled over in bed to make room for Sungchan to slip under your blankets with you. You rolled back over practically on top of him and buried your face in his chest, happy to have something else to block out the light aside from your blackout curtains. He wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your hair. The corners of your mouth quirked up fondly.

“Hey...” You mumbled a greeting.

“Hey,” he murmured. “How bad is it?”

“Not as bad as the one from Halloween,” you reassured him, throwing an arm around his waist. “No lobotomizing or anything. Just... hurts.”

“That’s... good, I guess.”

“You put my key back under the gnome? Or did you bring it in?”

“Put it back. Also why do you have that fucked up looking gnome?”

“I saw him on clearance and he was just so horrible, I had to have him. So now I hide my spare key under him.”

You didn’t know if Sungchan had found your answer satisfactory, or just decided to leave the topic be for your migraine’s sake, but he said nothing more. His arms shifted a bit tighter around you, and you could sense his sour mood without even needing to see his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“What?”

“My Sungchannie…” You said in a hushed, teasing sing-song tone. “You make a terrible cuddle buddy when you’re this tense.” You poked his stomach for emphasis, which was solid as a brick wall. “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, sorry.” He readjusted again, and you did feel his muscles relax a little under you. “You’ve got a migraine, you shouldn’t be asking me what’s wrong.”

“Well, we already know what’s wrong with me. So, what’s wrong with you?”

He let out a deep sigh. “It’s weird. When one of the guys gets hurt on the ice, I can see where they’re hurt and either slap a bandage on them myself or take them to someone who can. But when you’re hurting, my girl... I can’t do any of those things. I hate it.”

“Just you being here makes me feel better, Channie.” You squinted one eye open so you could reach a hand up to gently stroke his cheek. “I promise.”

“If you say so.”

Despite his melancholy words, he turned his head quickly to give a fleeting smooch to the tip of your thumb before you dropped it back down to lay the hand flat on his chest.

“And... ‘your girl?’” You asked slyly, wishing that there wasn’t a thick hoodie between his bare chest and your hand in that moment, as you were sure you would’ve been able to feel his heartbeat jump under your fingertips.

His eyes widened minutely as his head tilted in confusion. “Are-Are you not?”

“No, I am. Definitely.” You contentedly squished your cheek against his front.

“And I’m your guy. Right?”

“As if that could even be a question,” you giggled, the words punctuated by a yawn. “Yes.”

“Good,” he breathed out in relief, and you finally felt him truly relax underneath you. “Uhm, I’m keeping you up, sorry. You should go to sleep.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “My sleepy girl.”

“Mm, okay. Goodnight,” you mumbled, rolling over in his arms and letting your thoughts fully drift away.

“Love you...”

Sungchan continued staring down at you as your breathing evened out. The words seemed to have come out of your mouth as naturally as your breaths, and he fought back the urge to shake you awake again so he could say them back to you. Instead, he brushed your hair away from your face, planting a couple gentle kisses on your temple before scooting into his spot as big spoon for today and settling in for the duration of your sleep.

“I love you too,” he murmured into the crook of your neck, letting his own eyes close as he replayed the memory of you saying it first.

You woke up not even knowing your own name.

After taking a few seconds to properly come to and get reoriented from your migraine nap, you turned to your other side, immediately greeted by Jung Sungchan with such a tender look on his face that you had the breath knocked out of you.

Finally, you coughed out, “Hi...”

“Hey,” he smiled softly. “Sleep good?”

“Mhm... What time is it? How long did I sleep?”

“A few hours, it’s almost eight.”

“Cool, there goes my non-existent sleep schedule.”

He laughed quietly. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. I mean, blegh, but no migraine. Just... eugh.”

“The way you classify feeling good and bad fascinates me,” he commented.

You shuffled onto your back, staring up at your ceiling. “It’s all relative. One of my good days looks different from another chronically ill person’s good days. Same with my bad days. And no two abled people’s good and bad days look the same either. I mean, before I had migraines, I wasn’t out there being a hockey superstar like you. So yeah, right now I feel blegh and eugh, but in comparison to before my nap, that’s pretty good.”

“Huh.” Sungchan flopped onto his back too. “I mean, I guess I kind of knew that but... never really thought it through like that.”

“It’s a working theory,” you shrugged. “I’ve only been like this for... a little less than four years? And I’ll have these for, you know, the rest of my life. So, I’ll continue to refine it as time goes on.”

“Oh. Huh.”

“What?”

“You’re really going to have migraines for the rest of your life?”

“Yeah. Unless some miracle cure is discovered in my lifetime. It’s a lifelong condition.”

“That’s… damn.”

You let out a chuckle. “It took a while for it to sink in for me, too. When my neurologist mentioned it at my first appointment, it was like, whatever, but now four years later… yeah, it’s really starting to sink in that this is my life.”

“Woah…”

“Anyway, I’m sorry again about ice skating. I know you were really excited for it.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll go another day,” he promised. “Thank you for letting me be here, with you.”

You pushed yourself up to sit cross-legged, and put your hand over his that he’d been resting on his chest. “Thank you for coming, Sungchan.”

His face scrunched up. “What’s with calling me that? Am I in trouble?”

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys…”

“One of what guys?”

“As soon as they get a nickname or a term of endearment they won’t answer to their government name anymore.”

“It’s not that, it’s just… it feels like I’m in trouble. Like, am I not your Sungchannie anymore? Am I not baby or baby boy to you anymore? I’m no longer Channie?”

“You’re not in trouble,” you told him, slotting your fingers with his. “But… as a literary student, I understand the importance of diction and the symbolism of names.”

“Yeah, exactly.” He nodded firmly.

You snickered, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Thank you for being here with me, my Sungchannie.”

He caught the back of your head with his other hand before you could sit up all the way, guiding your lips down to his. It was a sweet, lingering kiss, which neither of you moved to deepen nor rush. When his hand fell from your hair, you straightened back up, smiling down at him fondly.

“Well, are you ready for dinner?” You asked. “I was thinking frozen pizza and very quiet movies. Unless you can’t stay the night.”

“No, I can stay.” He nodded, propping himself up on his elbows. “That sounds great. Whatever you want.”

“Perfect.”

You climbed out of bed, taking a second to get to your feet before heading for your bedroom door. Sungchan was still under the covers, though, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. You stopped at the threshold of the door, turning around to look at him.

“Channie?”

“Hm?”

“By the way…” You paused, letting silence descend for a couple seconds as he patiently waited for you to finish. “I love you.”

You immediately darted away towards your kitchen, laughing as you heard him scrambling to get out of bed and chase after you.

“Hey, come back!” He cried out, and you swore you heard the thud of an elbow or a knee bumping into a piece of furniture or a doorframe. “I need to say it back to you! Baby!”

You couldn’t run very far, sliding across your kitchen tile on your socks before skidding to a stop in front of your fridge. Sungchan came barreling around the corner right after you, wild-eyed, clutching his elbow and out of breath.

“No fair…” he whined. “You got a head start and I hit my funny bone on your door.”

“Your legs are like twice as long as mine!” You pointed out. “I think that’s just equity.”

“And my funny bone?”

“I’m sorry about your funny bone, baby boy. Want me to kiss it better?”

“In a second.”

“Alright,” you giggled, waiting patiently for him to finish his point.

“You know what’s not equitable?” He asked with his hands on his hips, slowly advancing towards you.

“Aside from you busting your funny bone on my door?”

He’d gotten you in arm’s reach, seizing you by the waist to pull you into his chest again. “You saying it to me twice now without giving me an opportunity to say it back.”

You laughed and wriggled around in his grasp as he held steadfast to you.

“So not fair!” Sungchan complained teasingly, showering your forehead, nose, and cheeks in kisses.

You felt more giggle than human at this point, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his collar to hide it from him and get a moment to recover your aching smile muscles. He hugged you even tighter to him, resting his chin on your head.

“Maybe it’s a good thing you’re not an athlete, you don’t play fair,” he chastised you. “Being so unbelievably cute while I’m trying to prove a point here.”

With another loud smooch to the top of your head, Sungchan let you go, removing you from him and holding you at arm’s length by the shoulders. You raised your eyebrows as you eyed the several kitchen tiles of space between the two of you.

“Very romantic, Channie.”

“Ahh, well I can’t think when you’re so close to me!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. However you need to.”

“No, you’re right, come back here.” He pulled you flush to his front again, cupping your cheeks to tilt your face up to look at him.

You looped your arms around his waist, offering him a sweet smile. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he echoed, stroking his thumbs over your cheekbones. Sungchan looked over your features fondly, his lips twitching as he was clearly trying and failing to suppress a giddy grin. “I love you. I love you. And, I love you.”

You chuckled at him having to say it the third time, as your whole body buzzed with joy. Yeah, your insides were never going to un-mush at this rate. They’d been long gone since your first date.

“I love you too, my Sungchannie.” You gave him a gentle kiss, feeling him smile against your lips.

iii. i hear the secret whisperings of the world in the curves of all your bursts of laughter

Sitting in a stadium seat at the ice rink one afternoon, you watched the team’s practice as you waited for your boyfriend. Well, half-watching the practice. Now that the semester was over, you wanted to catch up on your personal reading list with the free time.

A sudden bang on the barrier in front of you made you startle and look up from your book. It surprisingly wasn’t Sungchan, but two other players—23 and 24.

You slowly waved at Jeno and Yangyang before turning your eyes back down to your reading. That just started up more fervent banging on the plastic and indistinct shouting from them.

“Oh my God! What?” You yelled back, tucking your bookmark into the pages.

Their words were indistinguishable though, because of the barrier, distance, and the fact that they were talking over each other.

“Hold on!” You huffed. Standing up and picking your way down through the rows until you were directly in front of them, you asked, “Okay, what? One at a time.”

“Are you coming to movie night tonight—” Jeno started.

“—at the Puck Pad?” Yangyang finished.

Your brow furrowed as you stared at their shining eyes as if they had just said a normal thing to you. “I’m sorry, the what?”

“Movie night?” Jeno repeated.

“You seriously think that’s what I’m confused about? I know what a fucking movie night is, Jeno,” you rolled your eyes. “What the hell is the ‘Puck Pad?’”

The two of them exchanged a look before Yangyang spoke up, “Where your boyfriend lives? The house that me, Sungchan, Ten, and Sicheng all rent.”

“The team is having a movie night there tonight!” Jeno reiterated. “We were just wondering if you were coming too.”

You blinked at them. “I’ve never heard Sungchan, Sicheng, nor Ten call the house that. Are you sure it’s not just you, Yangyang?”

Yangyang ignored your question with one of his own, “Are you coming?”

“Yeah, Sungchan mentioned some movies at his place tonight. I’ll be there.”

“Awesome!” They said in unison.

“So… the Puck Pad?” You asked abruptly as Sungchan came out of the locker room, your arms crossed and head tilted.

His elated smile dropped off his face as a bewildered look of confusion took over, and his arms fell down to his sides from where he’d been holding them out for a hug. “What…? Who told you about that?”

“So you do call your house that?”

“Look, we joked about that like once or twice when we moved in last year. It’s not like there’s a sign up or anything.”

“And you didn’t want to tell me about this because…?”

“It’s lame and makes us sound like a bunch of losers.”

“But you are.”

“Unh!” He held a fist over his chest as if he were grabbing some invisible weapon that he’d just been stabbed with. Clutching onto your shoulder with his other hand, he slowly started leaning more and more of his weight onto you as he made more fake noises of pain. “Oof! Oh God… Oh, that hurt, Y/N… My own girl… Ugh… Agh…”

Giggling, you had to change your stance to keep the both of you up as he was fully slumped against you. You let out a grunt of exertion as you readjusted to push on his chest and prop him back up into a somewhat standing position.

“Channie, get up!” You complained as he just flopped back over on you, bringing another bout of laughter from you as you struggled to keep the both of you up. “Channie! Seriously, you’re such a baby! Just a big loser baby!”

“Yeah, but I’m your big loser baby, right?” He teased, supporting just enough of his weight to be able to look you in the face as he pouted at you pointedly.

You pinched his bottom lip just a bit meanly. “Yeah, and you’d better not forget it. Now can we go? You do know that the team has been staring like the whole time waiting for us, right?”

The guys were all crowded up by the automatic doors in a huddle, in various stages of pretending not to watch and very obviously looking and snickering among themselves. Donghyuck and Yangyang were in the latter, the two underclassmen feeling rather brave tonight as Yangyang yelled out first.

“Come on, loser baby! We’re waiting!”

“Yang, it was big loser baby, actually,” Donghyuck corrected him facetiously.

“Right, of course,” Yangyang nodded seriously. “Come on, you big, stinking, whining loser baby!”

Sungchan straightened up, all humor drained from his features as he snapped his fingers and pointed at them. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Are you ready to go, Channie?” Jeno joined in.

“Don’t fucking call me that!” The captain shot back, grabbing your hand as he started leading the way over.

“Seriously, guys,” you spoke up once you had joined the pack of hockey players heading out of the rink. “Don’t call him Channie, please.”

Sungchan’s house—The Puck Pad—was a close enough walk that on nights like this, where the team would hold movie nights or other team events after hockey practice, the players would all leave their cars at the house beforehand and walk over. So you all had a roughly twenty-minute walk back there now, a gaggle of hockey players, their practice bags, a couple gear bags, and you.

“Why not?” Donghyuck fake-whined.

“Well for one, he asked you not to. That should be enough,” you retorted. “And two, that’s my nickname for him. Come up with your own instead of stealing mine.”

“Since you asked so nicely, okay.”

“Thanks, Hyuck.”

A phone alarm suddenly went off just a moment later, and you calmly turned it off from your watch before rummaging through the tote bag on your shoulder.

“Evening?” Sungchan asked knowingly, watching as you tipped out one pill after another into your palm, then grabbed your water bottle.

“Mhm.” You confirmed before knocking them back in several rounds. The two of you were thankfully towards the back of the group, so they didn’t notice when you had to stop and start every time you had difficulty swallowing your sips of water.

When you closed up your tote bag, took his hand in yours, and continued down the sidewalk at a brisk pace intent on catching up with the others, a frown cut across Sungchan’s face. “Aren’t you supposed to take those with food?”

“Forgot to restock the go bag with snacks yesterday. I’ll live taking one dose without it,” you shrugged. “Besides, we’re going to be at your place soon anyway, I’ll eat there.”

Sungchan reached into his practice bag, fishing out a slightly misshapen protein bar, “Here. Sorry, it got a little crushed.”

“Oh, you don’t—”

He tore open the wrapper with his teeth, then pushed it into your hand that wasn’t holding his. “Y/N, eat it.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

At The Puck Pad—which you were learning, it turns out, the entire team calls the house when nobody else is around—you ended up being pretty glad for the protein bar Sungchan had given you on your way over. You only ate half of it before you got to the house, but the guys were so disorganized that it wasn’t until almost two hours after you’d arrived that everybody was finally settled in the living room with popcorn, candy, pizza, beer (soda and water for you), and a movie playing on the TV.

You and Sungchan had a plush, reclining armchair to yourselves, tucked cozily under a blanket. Sungchan had an arm around your waist holding you close to him as the other moved between his plate that was balanced on the armrest with a stack of pizza slices, and the small end table where your drinks sat. You were happily curled up into his side, head resting in the crook between his shoulder and his chest, and your legs in his lap as you propped your own plate up on your knees to eat from.

The guys had picked a horror movie first—one without jumpscares, as both you and Mark hated them. Blood, gore, body horror, or psychological thriller didn’t faze you, but under no circumstances could you handle jumpscares. Mark, on the other hand, didn’t care for horror movies in general and would only tolerate them if everybody else wanted to watch it. His hard line was jumpscares, though, which you two could agree on. So everybody had checked over multiple websites to be sure that this specific movie definitely didn’t have any jumpscares. Just lots of blood, as you were now finding out.

“Gross, dude…” Mark muttered under his breath from the couch. When you looked over at him, you could see his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the screen with a curled lip of disgust.

“Ugh, he had all those frogs inside him?” Yangyang pretended to gag, not looking away from the screen for a second.

“Good thing Hendery already went home for the holidays, huh?” Ten laughed, tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth from where his head was pillowed in Sicheng’s lap.

Chenle, who had also been invited, snorted with amusement. “Hendery would be climbing the fuckin’ walls right now.”

“I’m with Mark, this is fucking nasty.” You shook your head, turning to bury your face in Sungchan’s chest. “Let me know when there’s no more frogs doing gross stuff to people’s internal organs.”

“You can pick next, baby. Promise.” Sungchan wrapped two arms around you. He leaned in even closer to you to whisper, “Please pick something not scary.”

Once the horror movie was over, you proudly picked a Christmas rom-com, making sure to get one that had the perfect balance of a low critics’ score and high audience score on Rotten Tomatoes, was at least as old as you, had a low budget, and starred two famous actors that hadn’t gotten their big break as of filming.

When Jeno tried to grumble, you merely stuck your tongue out at him. “‘Tis the fucking season, Jeno!”

“Oh, fuck yeah! Christmas movie!” Yangyang cheered through a mouthful of pizza, walking back into the living room with a newly filled plate of slices. “Jeno, did we already have this one on our list?”

“List?” You asked with facetious innocence.

“Jeno and I marathon shitty Hallmark Christmas movies every year when we go to his parents’ place on break,” the junior explained, plopping down into his spot next to his friend. “He keeps the list in the notes on his phone, so I wanted to make sure he checked it off if we had it on there.”

While your immediate instinct had been to tease Jeno like the other guys were doing, something Yangyang said caught your attention instead.

“Wait, Yangyang, you go to Jeno’s parents’ place on break? You don’t go home?”

“My parents don’t live here. I’m originally from here, but we moved abroad when I was a kid. They still live there. The holiday break we get for hockey is too short to make it all the way out there.” He shrugged, taking another huge bite of pizza. “Jeno’s family is super cool. His mom about lost it when she heard that I’d be staying at school for the holidays my freshman year, insisted Jeno bring me home. So I go every year now.”

“And you two binge Hallmark movies together,” Chenle cooed, pinching their cheeks in unison. “The bestest of fwiends.”

Jeno shook his head and rolled his eyes, but there was no denying the bright grin on his face when Yangyang talked about staying with his family, or when he snuck his phone out to open the notes app and covertly check something off on a list that you couldn’t quite read from the other side of the room.

The movie ended up being actually a really good laugh. Both intentionally and unintentionally. Some of the jokes still held up after all these years, which surprised you, and also, the movie was just funny bad sometimes, which was even better. You found your cheeks hurting from how much you were laughing by the end of it, and surrounded by similar smiles on your friends’ faces. Which made it all the more enjoyable. The ending was the perfect amount of cheesy, sweet, funny, and satisfying, and felt like the perfect way to finish off your own night.

As the credits started rolling, still with a smile lingering on your lips, you turned to Sungchan, only to find him already gazing fondly at you.

“Oh. Hi…” You squeaked softly, completely caught off guard.

“Hi, baby,” he murmured back. “Good pick, by the way.”

“Not too scary, I hope.”

“Well, I had my girl there to protect me from that terrifying small-town baker and the down on his luck yet equally terrifying single dad, you know.”

The rest of the guys were having a debate about the next movie to watch—Pride and Prejudice (2005), Donghyuck’s idea vs. The Amazing Spider-Man (yes, Andrew Garfield), Mark’s idea. A debate that was expeditiously devolving into a very loud argument, so you weren’t particularly worried about them hearing the quiet, playful conversation that you and your boyfriend were having in the couple of inches of space between your heads.

“Always happy to protect my guy from the horrors of cheesy rom-coms,” you quipped back. “Anyway, I think I’m about done. Unless you want to watch whatever they end up picking?”

Sungchan shook his head minutely. “Apparently Hyuck’s been watching that movie like every day since this girl in his Brit Lit class rejected him like two weeks ago—”

“You need a better fucking coping mechanism than Keira Knightly, dude!” Mark’s exasperated voice rang through the living room.

“Would you rather I take up heroin, then?” Donghyuck screeched back.

“No! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” The frat president groaned. “I meant like Tinder or something!”

“Oh, really great advice from my Big here! I should go get myself an STD or 7 because he doesn’t want to watch one movie with me!”

“It’s not one movie, this is the fifteenth time this month, Hyuck! And you know we have condoms in the house, man! Use them!”

“And that’s our cue,” Sungchan declared only to you, nudging you towards the front of the armchair.

You scooted off his lap, getting to your feet and stretching as your boyfriend spoke over the still-bickering Nu Chi brothers. “Alright guys, we’re done for the night. See you.”

A couple of the spectators gave you two ‘goodnight’s, but everyone else was still locked into Mark and Donghyuck squabbling match as the Little was now fake-sobbing into Sicheng’s arms about how his Big couldn’t care less about him and his safety and maybe he should go get every single sexually transmitted disease if it’ll make Mark’s life easier. Mark turned towards the closest wall and started banging his forehead against it as you and Sungchan headed up the stairs.

The Puck Pad was three floors and an attic. All of the shared family spaces were on the first floor: the kitchen, living room, dining room, laundry room, and a half bathroom; the second floor had two bedrooms and one bathroom, currently inhabited by Ten and Sicheng; and the third floor had two* more bedrooms and one and a half more bathrooms, occupied by Yangyang and Sungchan. Being the captain, when divvying up the rooms, the other three just kind of shrugged and gave Sungchan what was technically the master bedroom. It was at the end of the hallway, and while it wasn’t that much bigger than the rest of the bedrooms, it was the only one with an en suite bathroom. You would hesitantly call this a four bedroom house, as you were pretty sure that Yangyang’s room wasn’t actually supposed to be a bedroom. At least not when the house was built. The layout of the bathrooms had been your first clue, with there being just a half bath for him to use—he had to either go down one floor to use Ten and Sicheng’s shower or into Sungchan’s bedroom to use his shower—and the fact that the doors (yes, doors, plural, he had two doors to his very normal-sized bedroom, one of which was the actual entrance and exit from the hallway and the other, which was in an interior wall, could not be opened, despite having a handle and hinges) looked like they had been added decades after the frames had been built. You were stumped as to what the room could’ve originally been, but you were confident that it wasn’t a bedroom, at least. It was something that puzzled and mystified you every time you came over.

Donghyuck and Mark were either done with their spat, or the sounds of it couldn’t carry at the way up here. Either way, you were going to be well onto your way to dreamland soon as you settled down for the night with Sungchan, having done your nighttime routine, changed into your pajamas, and gleefully climbed under the covers.

“Are the other guys staying the night?” You asked Sungchan as he readjusted his pillow next to you to get comfy.

“Don’t know,” he said. “Usually they will if they drink a bit too much, or if they just don’t feel like going all the way home then having to come back this way for Saturday morning practice.”

You made a noncommittal noise, still ruminating over your half-idea in your own mind as you laid there with your eyes shut. The mattress and the sheets shifted beside you as Sungchan curled up behind you, resting a hand on your waist.

“Why are you asking?” He questioned curiously.

“Hyuck…” You sighed, placing your hand over his and slotting your fingers together. “Worried about him, is all.”

“It was some girl in his class that he’d talked to like once in the whole semester. He’ll be okay. Donghyuck’s just got to get the dramatics out of his system first.”

“Even so… Even if he’s just a bit bummed or whatever… Isn’t that what friends are for? To make you feel better when you’re bummed out?” You mused.

“Yeah, I guess so. That’s what Mark’s been trying to do, and he just ended up watching Pride and Prejudice fourteen times.”

You let out a soft burst of air, a quiet chuckle, at that. “Taking one—or, fifteen—for the team.”

Sungchan’s chest shook with a couple silent laughs.

“But really— Can you bring him back here after morning practice tomorrow? I want to take him out. Get his mind off it.”

“Yeah, sure. We can do something.”

“Ah, Channie, I was kind of thinking just me and Hyuck.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you guys pick on him.”

“He picks on us!”

“Baby?”

“Alright, alright,” he relented. “I’ll bring Donghyuck back after practice tomorrow for your little friend date.”

You turned your head to be able to press a fleeting peck to the tip of his nose. “Thank you, baby.”

“But I’m making you breakfast. You two will have to figure out something else.”

In the morning, you were faintly aware of an alarm going off early before it was quickly shut off and you rolled over in bed, burying your face in your pillow. Beyond your eyelids, it was still absolute darkness. You could feel the shifting of the mattress beside you and the press of a gentle kiss to your temple as you quickly sank under the calm waters of sleep once more.

You were half-awoken again some time later, a faint light streaming into your consciousness as the covers shifted once again, and a presence enveloped you from behind that hadn’t been there before. Letting out a peaceful sigh, you listened to the sounds of yours and Sungchan’s breathing as they eventually synced up, and you drifted back off without even realizing it.

Fluttering your eyes open, you groaned softly against the bright morning sunlight. After a couple seconds of squinting and blinking, your eyes had adjusted for the most part, and you rolled onto your other side. Sungchan smiled at you fondly as you rubbed at one of your eyes.

“You awake?” He asked quietly.

“Yep, ‘m up,” you offered a bleary thumbs up. “Just don’t make me solve any differential equations or whatever the fuck. Actually, don’t make me do that when I’m at full capacity either.”

He laughed softly, cradling the back of your head to pull you forward and press a kiss to your forehead. “Good morning, baby.”

“Mornin’ Channie,” you said back, punctuated by a yawn. “How was practice?”

“It was good. Donghyuck’s playing video games in the living room with Yangyang, by the way.”

“Good, good.”

“I think that was our smoothest Saturday morning yet. Were you able to go back to sleep okay?”

“Oh, yeah. I don’t even remember waking up at all, really.”

“Success,” he grinned.

You momentarily closed your eyes again, enjoying the peaceful moment as you let your body slowly work towards fully waking up. Sungchan gently stroked the backs of his fingers up and down your arm, and you relaxed even further under his touch.

“I like waking up next to you,” he admitted softly. You squinted one eye back open to look at him as he continued. “Doing it twice in one morning… I think that’s the most I’ve ever loved somebody.”

Shooting up just to push him back against the mattress, you held him there by the shoulders, your grip so tight it probably would’ve hurt if he wasn’t already used to much worse on the ice. He looked up at you with wide eyes.

“Are you trying to kill me, Jung Sungchan?” You accused. “Saying stuff like that to me first thing in the morning, I could melt into a puddle and never re-form! My heart could explode!”

“You don’t think my heart feels like it’s going to explode when I wake up and see you next to me first thing in the morning?” He huffed back. “That just sounds like equity, baby.”

“You don’t know the meaning of that word.”

“Maybe so…”

With a final shake of your head, you let go of him and fell onto your back next to him. He propped himself up on an elbow on his side so he could see you, the beginnings of a pout on his face.

“And what’s that pout for?” You teased, already with a sneaking suspicion.

“Oh, nothing…” He picked up one of your hands, dropping a line of kisses to the back of it and up your wrist and lower arm.

“Okay,” you played along with a smile on your face. “Because I was just thinking that I’ve been awake for a whole five minutes with no good morning kiss. But if it’s nothing, then—”

You couldn’t even finish your sarcastic dramatics before Sungchan had captured your lips with his in a sweet but intense kiss that pressed your head back into the pillow just a little bit. Curling your fingers in the hair at the back of his head and grabbing a fistful of his t-shirt with your other hand, you pulled him even closer, wanting to just be able to melt into each other completely like it felt like your mouths were doing.

Another alarm suddenly went off in the bedroom, different from the one that had gone off in the wee hours of the morning, and you broke the kiss for just a second to snooze it on your smart watch.

“Oh! Your meds.” Sungchan immediately looked over towards his dresser where your go bag was sitting safely.

“I snoozed it; I’ll take them in a few minutes,” you reassured him, grabbing his face to pull his lips back to yours.

He indulged you for a few seconds until you reached a natural break for air, where he instead pecked your cheek before sitting back on his feet. “I’ll grab them for you, I don’t mind.”

With that, he clambered off the bed and over towards the dresser.

It was impossible to get mad at him though as he so eagerly went to help. You were instead filled with such an overwhelming fondness and joy, unable to do much but smile tenderly at him. “Oh, Channie… thank you.”

“Morning, morning, morning,” he muttered to himself as he rooted through your tote bag to pull out the various pill bottles. “That’s… half of this one, one of these, and… one of this? Oh, and you just added this one, too. And your blood pressure cuff.”

“A-plus, Nurse Jung.” You beamed up at him as you sat up in bed, getting in the correct position to take your vitals with the cuff.

He came over to you, dropping your meds in your waiting palm. You looked over the colorful pills momentarily, pleased to see that he’d gotten it exactly correct. After taking them with your water that was on his nightstand, you held out your hand for him to give you your cuff. But instead, he undid the Velcro and went to loop it around your wrist himself, brows furrowing as he concentrated on the task at hand.

“How’s that?” He asked once he had it secured.

“It’s a little too close to my hand, actually, but good first try.” You undid the band, scooting it to the proper position. “It should be a little further above my wrist bone.”

“Okay. Got it.”

The two of you were silent as you waited for your cuff to take your blood pressure and heartrate, the only sounds that of your breathing and the usual ones of the device in operation. After the final beep and deflation, you brought your wrist down from your chest to look at the screen.

“Is that good?” Sungchan asked, focused on the results as well.

“Well these are my pre-dose numbers. And they’re actually a little lower than normal,” you explained, typing them into your health record on your phone with your free hand. “Only by 10 points, but that means that depending on the post-dose I’ll probably just have to keep a closer eye on my numbers today.”

“So now we set a timer for 30 minutes.”

“Yep,” you did so with just a couple more taps on your phone. “And in the meantime, you make me breakfast like you promised.”

“On it.” He smooched your temple, his hands tentatively reaching towards your wrist. “Can I take your blood pressure cuff off you now?”

“Of course.”

He gently peeled off the strap with a rip of the Velcro, standing back up to put it away in its case. Holding the cuff in its hard carrying case in one hand, he offered his other out to you, and you gladly took it, getting it to your feet.

“Hold on a sec…” You muttered, squeezing your eyes shut as you got light-headed for a moment, bright lights flashing in your vision.

“I got you, baby,” Sungchan murmured, pressing his arm to yours and grabbing your other shoulder with his hand—he must have set your cuff down or put it in his pocket.

Once you felt stable on your own two feet again, which took just a few seconds, you blinked a couple times, then smiled up at him. “Okay, ready.”

Downstairs, you could hear video game sounds as you emerged into the kitchen, accompanied by the muffled shouting of three voices. Yangyang, Donghyuck, and that last one had to be Ten, it wasn’t nearly deep enough to be Sicheng. You sat up in the corner of their kitchen counter to watch Sungchan as he cooked, occasionally in the way, but he never asked you to move, and you never offered. It was a simple breakfast, but nothing could beat the proud, happy grin on his face as he held your plate out to you.

“It looks great,” you told him, patting his cheek. “Thank you, Channie.”

“Anything for my girl,” he replied, absolutely beaming as he leaned in to give you a soft kiss. You could feel the curl of his smile against your lips.

The two of you had just taken your first bites sat at the kitchen table when Yangyang and Donghyuck wandered in.

“Something smells good,” Yangyang announced, his eyes immediately landing on your food.

You protectively pulled your plate closer to yourself.

“There’s plenty left in the fridge to make your own,” Sungchan replied, pointing towards the kitchen.

Donghyuck plopped down in the seat directly next to the one that you and your boyfriend were jointly occupying—you were on Sungchan’s lap. The sophomore stared longingly at your breakfast.

“Didn’t you guys already eat?” You asked. “You had morning practice.”

“That was forever ago.”

“You’re not stealing my girlfriend’s food, you ungrateful little shits,” the captain glared at the both of them. “Go make your own if you’re so hungry.”

“First Mark wants me to get chlamydia, now you want me to starve,” Donghyuck bemoaned. “Will I ever have a good role model in my life?”

Sungchan fixed you with a pointed look, but you could only giggle at your friend’s dramatics.

“Daddy issues much, Hyuck?” You ruffled his hair, earning loud cackles from Yangyang, and distant laughter from Ten.

Donghyuck stared at you with a dropped jaw as you heard a couple dumbfounded sputters from Sungchan behind you. The younger player recovered quickly, though.

“What gave it away? My unhealthy attachment to older male friends that I see as reliable, or my ‘I Heart DILFs’ shirt?” He retorted sarcastically.

“You do wear that shirt a lot,” you jested back easily. He owned no such shirt to your knowledge.

“And here I thought I was being subtle.” He clicked his tongue in feigned disappointment.

“As a trainwreck,” you nodded. “You and Yang either go get your own food or shut the fuck up, okay?”

Donghyuck stood up from his chair, giving you an overzealous salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

Yangyang went to follow his friend with a shake of his head. “Mommy issues much, bro?”

You couldn’t contain your laughs, tucking your face back into the crook of Sungchan’s neck to muffle them just a little bit. He wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you even closer to him. You kept laughing, even as he gently brushed his lips over the crinkles at the corner of your eye.

iv. because life is beautiful but life is work, so full of joy, so full of hurt

“So tell me about her,” you prompted Donghyuck as soon as the front door shut behind you two.

“What?”

“The girl that you like. Tell me about her.”

“Sungchan said you wanted to take me out to get my mind off it.” He regarded you suspiciously. “And everyone else is telling me I should just move on, stop moping and thinking about her all the time. Don’t know how talking about her more is really going to help that.”

“I heard that she was in one of your classes this semester and you two talked once. But if you’re this broken up about her… sounds like there’s more going on,” you shrugged. “If you want to tell me, I’m all ears. I know you feel like you have to ham it up for the guys all the time, make them laugh and stuff. But you don’t have to do that for me, okay? You don’t owe me entertainment in exchange for tolerating your presence or something. I’m hanging out with you right now because I want to.”

“I talked to her twice, actually. Not counting when she rejected me,” he began abruptly. “We were in the same Brit Lit class this semester, she sat in the seat in front of me. On the first day of class, she turned around to hand me the syllabus and accidentally bumped my water bottle. She smiled, apologized, and handed me the stack of papers and that was that. It’s so not me but I just, I couldn’t talk to her. It’s not just that she’s pretty—I mean she is, like the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen—but she’s so smart too. Whenever she’d answer one of the professor’s questions, she’d say something about the story that I would’ve never thought of in a million years. And like, the professor would be impressed too! But every single time I tried to hype myself up to say something, literally anything to her, I’d end up panicking and not doing it.”

“What was the other time? You said you talked to her twice, outside of when you asked her out. What was the other time, after the syllabus?”

He grimaced. “Ugh, right. I was walking across campus from the library to the parking garage one day. I was supposed to be meeting up with Mark at his car to hitch a ride back to the house. I had one of my sticks with me because I was taking it home to retape it, just sort of slung over my shoulders while I waited at the crosswalk. And it was dark, and I heard something behind me, whipped around to look, and ended up knocking her right in the eye with the butt of the stick.”

“Oh no,” you hissed sympathetically.

“I kept apologizing, but since I didn’t have my gear bag on me, just my bookbag and weapon, I didn’t have anything to patch her up with. She had some tissues in her bag thankfully… but I felt so horrible.”

“Aw, Hyuck, it was an accident. I’m sure she knows that.”

“And I felt even more horrible when I saw her in class a couple days later with that same eye black and blue.”

“Ouch…”

“And then on the last day of class, I caught up with her in the hall after turning in our finals, and I finally did it. I finally asked her out. And she said no.”

You let out a forlorn sigh, looping your arm with your friend’s. “I’m sorry, Hyuck. If it makes you feel any better, I think she’s missing out on a really great, sweet guy.”

“That doesn’t really help, but thanks, I guess.”

“I think it’s good to go ahead and be sad for a little bit, if that’s what you’re feeling.”

He let out a cynical chuckle. “I think my sadness is a bit of an inconvenience for the guys.”

“That’s not true,” you reassured him. “They’re just worried about you. You’re usually this big, unstoppable ball of sunshine. It’s like when one of you gets hurt on the ice, right? One of your teammates will slap a bandage where it hurts and you’ll keep playing. They don’t get why the bandages aren’t enough this time.”

“I don’t know if ‘ball of sunshine’ is a phrase that any of them of would use to describe me.” The corner of his lips twitched. “But thank you, Y/N. I didn’t really know what to expect when Sungchan told me that you wanted to hang out with me 1-on-1 today, considering you don’t really know me like you know some of the other guys. Like, I don’t think we’ve even been alone in a room together before, you know?”

“Huh. Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“Now I get it, though.”

“Get what?”

“Why everyone thinks you and Sungchan are gonna get married.”

“What?”

“Not like, now, but that you guys are going to, you know, make it, or whatever. Soulmates or something.”

You quirked up an eyebrow at the underclassman. “You believe in soulmates, Hyuck?”

“Yeah, I think I do. And I’m only telling you this because I don’t think you’ll call it stupid.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid. I think it’s sweet,” you reassured him, patting his shoulder. “A jock with a romantic streak, very swoon-worthy.”

“That how Sungchan got you?” He teased, elbowing you in the side lightly.

“Something like that.”

“Hmph.”

“This isn’t the end for you,” you said knowingly.

“I know, I know. Just feels like it.”

“I get it. Next time you want to watch Pride and Prejudice fourteen times, you can call me up, okay? Give Mark a break.”

“Careful, I might take you up on that.”

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t serious. But for now, arcade?”

His eyes lit up at you finally revealing where the two of you were going. “Oh hell yeah! I’m so going to annihilate you at air hockey!”

“Don’t count on it,” you warned. “Sungchan’s taught me a few things.”

“Hey, baby, I’m back—” Sungchan skidded to a stop in the threshold of his bedroom, bag of delivery food in hand.

“Hey, Channie,” you smiled up at him as you were sat against his headboard. Donghyuck was curled up on top of the blankets by your legs like a cat, his head in your lap as you gently played with his hair.

“I was gone for like a minute,” your boyfriend gestured to the sophomore with bewilderment. “Does he just have a sixth sense for when you’re alone?”

“I told them they could join us for a movie.”

“Them?”

“Yo, you mind, bro?” Another voice piped up, Yangyang ducking under your boyfriend’s arm to walk in. He flopped across the foot of the bed, partially on Donghyuck’s legs.

“Oh, hey, Sungchan,” Jeno almost sounded surprised to see the captain in his own room as he followed his teammate in, laying down on his front with his arms and head resting on Yangyang’s back, and his feet up by the pillows.

“Well, I didn’t order enough for all of you,” Sungchan sighed, climbing over Jeno to settle into the empty space left beside you. “And no filching off Y/N, Donghyuck. Go downstairs and get your own food if you’re hungry.”

Hyuck tried to protest, “But—”

“Two of you don’t even live here, be grateful I let you eat as much as I do from our fridge, you’re not also getting the dinner that I bought for me and my girlfriend.”

“Fine. I’ll text Mark to bring snacks.”

“Mark, too?!”

Walking back with the guys to the Puck Pad after the last hockey practice of the calendar year, there was an elated buzz in the air now that the athletes were all finally on their own winter break. They were going over their plans for their short break: Jeno and Yangyang were going to Jeno’s parents’ the next day, Ten and Sicheng would both be leaving for their own homes tonight, meanwhile Mark and Donghyuck were both from the area, so they were staying at the Nu Chi house and just meeting up with their families on the holidays.

Realizing that you and Sungchan hadn’t really talked about your holiday plans yet, you peered up at him, about to ask, when suddenly your head started feeling light. You furrowed your brow, trying to blink away the momentary confusion as whatever you were about to say had slipped from your mind. Your head didn’t feel right on your body, but you couldn’t put your finger on what exactly it was.

Sungchan took just one look at you before letting go of your hand to instead grab your upper arm to steady you. His other hand went diving into the pockets of the practice bag in front of you, fervently searching for something.

“Dude, what the hell are you doing?” Jeno, the owner of the bag, whipped around to look at him incredulously.

“Where’s your snacks?” Sungchan was fumbling into another pocket now.

“Ate them already. I’m bulking.”

“Dude, bad idea,” Ten snorted.

“Shut up, Ten!”

Sungchan had started ransacking another teammate’s bag, and successfully pulled out a sports drink this time.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Yangyang protested.

Your boyfriend stopped and sat you on a bench nearby, cracking open the drink. “Y/N, here.”

“Bad idea to what?” You squinted your eyes up between Ten and Jeno curiously.

“Why does she need—” Yangyang was still complaining.

“Jeno’s been talking to Sugar n’ Spice,” Donghyuck answered your question, mischievous glint in his eye.

“Who—” You mumbled, but got cut off by the bottle being pushed against your lips insistently.

“Y/N,” Sungchan’s stern voice refocused you, and you obliged, taking a small sip of the sugary drink.

Ten continued filling you in, “Sugar n’ Spice and Everything Nice. One of Johnny’s old girlfriends.”

Jeno crossed his arms with an indignant huff, “They were not—”

“And who are you really going to believe? Johnny or her?” Donghyuck retorted.

“You didn’t even go here when they—”

“Guys, shut the hell up!” Mark finally snapped at all of them, gesturing to your general unwell demeanor.

“Oh shit dude.” Yangyang’s eyes widened.

“Yeah.”

“Bro, she does not look good,” Jeno stated the obvious.

“She’ll be fine in a minute,” Sungchan replied, holding the bottle back up to your mouth. His voice was firm but gentle as he instructed you, “Y/N, drink some more.”

“Anyway, Jeno, no matter how much you bulk, it’s not going to make up for the inches you’re missing. Height or otherwise,” Donghyuck taunted nonchalantly.

“Lee Donghyuck, I’m going to break your fucking nose, come here!” Jeno lunged for the underclassman, only making him yelp and dart away.

“Don’t—!” Mark’s warning was cut off as Jeno chased Donghyuck down, his voice fading out as he sighed and finished quietly, “...Cause any permanent damage...”

“You okay, Y/N?” Sicheng asked, as you took a couple more small sips.

You nodded. “Just a bit low, uhm, blood sugar. I’ll be okay.”

It always took you a few minutes to realize when you were low on your own, but Sungchan could tell with just one glance at you—it made you wonder what you looked like when you got like this.

Back at the Puck Pad that evening, you had already said your goodbyes to Ten and Sicheng; and Jeno, Donghyuck, and Mark were upstairs in Yangyang’s room allegedly helping him pack. Judging by the video game sounds you could hear from the bottom of the stairs, they had gotten a little distracted. Sungchan and you had settled down in the living room to watch a movie, and with the fog lifted from your mind, you were able to remember what you were going to ask him earlier.

“Hey, Channie?” You picked your head up from his chest to be able to look at him. He was laying on his back across the whole couch, you snuggled in on top of him.

“Hm?” He looked from the TV to you.

“What are your plans?”

“Oh. Well…” He paused the movie, his hands coming to settle on your lower back and sneaking just under the hem of your (his) hoodie to trace spirals into your skin. “Our lease ends after graduation, and Yangyang’s been talking about looking for a place with Jeno, and Ten and Sicheng are probably going to get their own place. I know we haven’t talked about it yet, but every time I try to think what I’m going to do, I just imagine that we would move in together.”

Your dumbfounded silence encouraged him to go on, his voice sounding far away and dreamy.

“Like, I don’t know, being able to wake up next to you everyday, and sleep in on the weekends with you with no practice. Cooking breakfast for you every morning, even just grocery shopping together. It’s all I can think about, really.”

You finally choked out, “I-I meant for the holidays. Like, visiting family, being in town…”

His cheeks started flushing. “Right. Sorry. I’m visiting my family on Christmas Day. What about you?”

“Me too.”

“We should spend Christmas Eve together, then.”

“Yeah, sounds good. New Year’s, too?”

“Of course. Who else would I kiss at midnight?”

A fond smile spread across your lips, and you tilted your head up to give him a peck. “Of course.”

“So, uhm,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “The other thing I mentioned?”

“What are you doing after graduation? Made a decision about that PhD program?”

“Yep… more school,” he sighed.

“Me, too.” You pulled a blanket up over you two. “I think… Yeah, we can move in together. I’d really like that.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You make me so happy, baby.”

“You could just move in with me? To my apartment?” You suggested as a grin spread across your face. You were getting giddy already imagining it.

Another forehead kiss. “I would love that.”

“You make me really happy too, Channie,” you murmured, your fingertip tracing mindless figure-eights into the front of his shirt.

“I love you so much.” He cradled your face with two hands with a tenderness that made your heart ache to be a part of him in a way that you could never physically attain.

You leaned in to touch your nose to his. “I love you, too.”

Christmas Eve was just a couple days later, and instead of walking in the park amongst the freshly fallen snow, or touring the elaborate lights put up in the rich neighborhood nearby, or baking Christmas cookies while watching cheesy Christmas movies, or any of your other cute Christmas plans with Sungchan, you were bedridden with a migraine. A bad one.

You let out a soft whimper as tears welled up in your eyes, both from the pain and from pure frustration at having something else ruined for you because of these stupid migraines. Ice skating you could reschedule, but you couldn’t take a rain check on your first Christmas (Eve) together.

Sungchan curled his arms around you tighter, a steady pressure across your back. “It’s been two hours,” he murmured as quietly as possible.

“I don’t want my stupid fucking medication that isn’t fucking working,” you practically spat out, the first tears slipping down your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” Sungchan pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, careful to avoid your scalp, which currently felt like it was on fire in addition to your usual squeezing and stabbing migraine pain. Side effect from a new rescue medication your neurologist was having you try. Safe to say it wasn’t a winner.

At the distress in his own tone over his usual regrets of seeing you hurting but not being able to help, you finally broke down into open sobs. Clenching your eyes shut tight, you clung to his arms. Your chest shook with every breath as you quietly wailed, burying your face in your pillow. You couldn’t bear to turn around and see the angst on your boyfriend’s features.

“Oh, baby,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “If I could take all your pain away and put it on myself, I would. God, I’m so, so sorry.”

You could hardly talk past the solid, hard lump in your throat, at first letting out a couple more strangled sobs as your tears and spit ruined your pillowcase. When you finally blubbered something out, your voice was distraught and despondent, “Why can I never… never have nice things? Why does it feel like the world is so big and nothing can go right and it all hurts so much… and I’m just so small and my body and my brain are… so broken?”

“I don’t know, baby, I don’t know,” Sungchan replied desperately, fully weeping with you into your shoulder now. “You don’t deserve this. I’m so sorry.”

You eventually fell asleep, but unlike your typical migraine naps, this one didn’t bring any sort of peace to Sungchan’s mind. Usually the naps were a good sign, you would wake up without the migraine and be relatively all better. But you’d never cried yourself to sleep during a migraine before, and having to hold a bawling you in his arms while he couldn’t do anything but apologize for being absolutely useless had left him shaken up. He didn’t think he’d be able to nap with you this time.

Sungchan didn’t dare move, keeping watch over you as you slept as if he could keep anymore pain away. He could still hear the echo of his heart breaking into a million pieces the moment you’d started crying.

Your head still fucking hurt. But this was a different throbbing than before, and was definitely from the heavy crying you’d done earlier. You groaned, covering your eyes and sniffling.

You could hear Sungchan’s breathing next to you, but he didn’t say anything as you rolled over to bury your face in his neck. Letting out a deep sigh, you found that you were dried out, unable to summon more tears. Finally, you spoke, “What time is it?”

God, your throat was dry.

“Six forty-five…” he replied softly.

“Well, Merry Christmas, Channie,” you grumbled.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Do you think it’s too late to go see the Christmas lights?”

You could feel him tense up under you.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to make yourself do anything for me, baby,” he reassured you, rubbing your back.

“I want to…” You insisted. “I just… probably need my earplugs. And sunglasses.”

“Of course, whatever you want.”

“And then we can come back and do eggnog pancakes?” You asked hopefully. The migraine had started right before Sungchan could start cooking this morning, so you weren’t able to enjoy your promised festive breakfast prepared by your boyfriend.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“And then presents.”

“Like I said, anything my girl wants.”

And so Sungchan drove you around in his car with the radio off, your sunglasses on like it wasn’t dusk right then, and earplugs in to drown out the sounds of passing traffic. The two of you were silent through the whole ride, communicating solely by squeezing the other’s hand that was laced with yours over the center console, pointing at any lights and decorations that either of you particularly liked, and smiling and nodding in acknowledgement.

When you got back to your apartment, you took off your sunglasses and earplugs to plop yourself down at your kitchen table while Sungchan once again brought out ingredients. He hummed Christmas carols while he cooked, and you rested your cheek in your hand to watch him fondly as he bustled around.

Your head was still throbbing, and you winced as you pulled your hood up and gathered your knees to your chest. As Sungchan opened the fridge to put the eggnog away, you saw him pull something else out, a familiar box.

“When is your injection?” He asked quietly, holding the container up.

You scrunched your nose as you brought out your phone to check your calendar. “It’s… oh shit, today.”

“I’ll leave it out to warm up.” He set it on the counter before going over to your stove and setting a timer for an hour.

You were supposed to wait at least 30 minutes after the medication left the fridge to inject it, but you liked to wait closer to an hour or two to make sure it had fully come to room temperature, to reduce any injection pain.

The pancakes were ready soon, and Sungchan and you ate them on the couch, the odd bits of conversation floating around between bites.

“So what are you and your family doing tomorrow?” Sungchan rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Oh, dinner’s at my parents’ place. I’ll pop over to Chenle’s family’s Christmas, too. They’re just across the street,” you hummed. “We don’t do a lot, but everyone comes over, so it’ll be a packed house.”

“That’s nice.”

“What about you, Channie? Any Christmas traditions?”

“You’re eating it,” he said proudly. “My dad always makes eggnog pancakes on Christmas morning. Then we go to my grandparents’ house for the day.”

You couldn’t wade through the slop that your mind was covered in to be able to aptly express how you felt about Sungchan sharing one of his family’s Christmas traditions with you, so instead you turned your head to press a long kiss to his cheek, squeezing his forearm appreciatively. He seemed to get the message, and moved his head to be able to kiss you gently.

“I love you, Y/N,” he mumbled against your lips. Then, pulled back just enough to look you in the eye. “I’m so glad we got to spend today together.”

You couldn’t help but bite down on your tongue bitterly at that. “Yeah, I love you too, Channie.”

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“My stupid migraines ruined our day! Again!” You turned away from him, dropping your face in your hands.

Immediately, one of his large hands rubbed your back while his other came to rest on your knee. “Baby, baby, my day wasn’t ruined.”

“We didn’t get to do anything how we wanted, and all I did was cry and make you cry!” You felt your eyes growing wet again. “And I’m fucking crying again!”

“I really do wish you hadn’t spent all day in pain,” he admitted. “You deserve to have the perfect Christmas Eve like all the cheesy rom-coms you like. But please don’t feel like you ruined my day or anything. I spent the whole day with my girl, which is a perfect day in my book.”

You wiped at your face messily, looking over your shoulder at him. “You really mean that?”

“Of course.”

“Even though I made you cry on Christmas? …Eve?”

“Well, it wouldn’t have been fair for you to be the only one of us who did.”

That finally made you chuckle, and Sungchan gave you a soft smile in return as he pulled you into him. You wrapped your arms around his waist, enjoying his warmth.

“Thank you, my Sungchannie,” you mumbled. “For being the most wonderful boyfriend in the whole universe.”

“The whole universe?” He repeated skeptically.

“Yep. Not even a competition.”

The kitchen timer went off then, and he gave you a final shoulder squeeze and peck to your temple before standing up and heading into the kitchen. He returned with your medication and stupidly large first aid kit. Popping the first aid kit open, he dutifully started pulling out an alcohol wipe, then an antihistamine. Sungchan had been around for your last injection by happenstance, and watched your every move carefully, so you weren’t surprised that he was able to get everything ready now.

“I don’t need that unless I break out,” you tried to point out. You weren’t allergic to the medication, but sometimes you got hives around the injection site within the first day or so just from it making your skin more sensitive.

“Baby, you always break out,” he insisted, presumably remembering when you started reacting less than an hour later last time, and all your stories about other post-injection reactions.

“No, there’s been like… a couple times I haven’t.”

He pointedly set the antihistamine down with the alcohol swab, then held up the bandage options for you to choose from.

“Mm… Sanrio,” you nodded to your newest addition. “I want a Kuromi.”

He fished out a bandaid with a Kuromi pattern on it, setting it aside. You broke the seal on the medication box as Sungchan walked into the kitchen. At the sound of running water, you looked up curiously, watching as he thoroughly washed his hands to the elbow like he was about to scrub in for an operation.

As he sat back down beside you, he held out his hands. “Can I do it?”

You froze, freshly opened box in hand. In the nearly two years that you’d been taking the injectable, you’d always done it yourself. Even your first demonstration dose at your neurologist’s office you’d done on your own to learn how to operate it. It had never occurred to you to ask anybody else to, really. Technically, the directions said you could, but you lived by yourself, had always been alone.

“If you’re okay with it,” Sungchan added after a couple beats of silence. “It’s fine if you want to do it yourself. I get it. You’ve just had a really long day, I want to help.”

“They say someone else can do the back of your arm…” You looked down at the small card of directions that you picked up out of the carton, a diagram highlighting all the possible injection areas. “But I want to be able to see it. So you’ll still have to do my thigh.”

“Okay.” He nodded seriously, accepting the box as you handed it to him.

He took a moment to study the instructions very carefully, and you opened the bandage in preparation. When he set the directions down and picked up the alcohol wipe, you rolled up the leg of your shorts and readjusted in your seat.

“I usually do it here.” You pointed to a spot, and he wiped the cool material over the area thoroughly.

Next, he grabbed the auto-injector from the box, pulling the cap off the end and dropping it back in the carton. You consciously tried to level your breathing as he paused to read the directions one more time. Sungchan pinched your skin and pulled it apart until it was properly taut.

“Do you want a countdown?” He asked.

“No, but hold on, I need to relax my muscle.” You flexed and eased your thigh a couple times, letting out a deep breath. “Okay, good.”

You kept your eyes focused just off to the side of the injection—you’ve never been able to watch needles go in you that you weren’t operating yourself, but you couldn’t fully look away this time. So instead, your gaze was on Sungchan’s forearm, the auto-injector enough in your peripheral that you could tell if something were to go wrong.

He pressed the blunt plastic tip against your skin. As requested, you had no countdown before the near-simultaneous click of the pen and prick of the needle came, followed by the stinging pain of the medication being pumped into you. You let out a slight hiss, already counting in your mind. The built-in indicator that meant the injection was over was displayed on the pen already, but you noticed that Sungchan kept holding it there until you reached your fifteen-count in your head. He had remembered from when he watched you last time, and must have been counting himself. The directions said to leave it in until the indicator showed, about 15 seconds, but you always liked to count to 15 seconds just in case, something you’d mentioned off-handedly last time.

As soon as he took the injector out and tossed it in the box on the table, you watched as a dot of blood and clear fluid—medicine—welled to the surface. Sungchan rushed to pull the bandage out, applying it to the site, catching the drop just in time before it fell down your leg. He gingerly smoothed down the ends, Kuromi smirking back up at you two.

Sungchan took the empty auto-injector into your bedroom, and you heard the telltale sound of it clanking into the plastic sharps disposal bin you kept under the bathroom sink. When he came back, you were already picking up the trash and closing up the first aid kit.

“Don’t forget your antihistamine,” he reminded you, holding out the tablet and your water bottle.

With your hands full, you leaned forward to take a sip from the straw of your bottle, then opened your mouth like a baby bird for him to drop the pill into. You swallowed it with slight difficulty, but he seemed content that you’d taken it, at least.

After everything was cleaned up, you meandered back into the living room, stopping in front of the couch to inspect the injection site with a pout.

“Is everything okay, baby?” Sungchan sat forward, brow furrowed with concern.

“Hurts…” You whined, flopping down next to him. “It didn’t use to burn after like this, but ever since my neuro upped my dose last month… it hurts.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” he pulled you closer to him with two arms around your waist.

You made a small ‘humph’ sound, habitually poking at the injection site. Ow, dumbass.

“Thank you, baby,” Sungchan mumbled into your neck. “For letting me help you.”

The genuine relief in his voice made you smile to yourself. You knew how cut up he was every time he couldn’t help during your migraines, and at first you didn’t get why he wanted to do your injection this time. After all, this was the same guy who had you come with him to get his blood drawn for his routine drug testing by disguising it as an ice cream date then suddenly remembering that he had to stop by the student health center on the way there (and jumped at your offer to come back with him to hold his hand instead of waiting in the lobby). But in his mind, doing your injection must’ve been the best he could do to help prevent you from hurting again like he’d seen today.

“Why are you the sweetest boy ever?” You whispered, kissing his hair.

Sungchan let out a muffled giggle. “Ever?”

“Ever.”

“Mm, I don’t know,” he hummed playfully. “Think I was born like this.”

“We’ve got to make sure you don’t go out in the rain, or you’ll melt,” you teased.

“I mean what I said the other day, you know. Just didn’t want to scare you… but I really do think this is the most I’ve ever loved someone. I know it hasn’t been that long, and it always feels like I’m rushing stuff with you, but it just always feels right. Everything always feels right all the time with you.”

“I knew what I was getting myself into when you said ‘I love you’ on our second date,” you reminded him, fond smile flitting across your lips.

“I thought we agreed to never talk about that again,” he grumbled.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. But you were so adorable when you tried to pretend like you didn’t.”

“You were wearing my hoodie and had whipped cream on your nose and you were just so… perfect,” he defended himself, trailing off into a dreamy sigh. He smooched your cheek loudly. “Still are.”

You laughed, squirming a little bit at the sudden attack of affection, but not moving away as he peppered more overzealous kisses to your face. You instead cradled his cheek with one of your hands.

When he’d finally stopped to rest his chin on your shoulder again, you responded a bit more seriously to him, “I love you too… a lot. I don’t really have any romantic metric, to be honest. Migraines have sort of made it hard to date… or inconvenient, at least. But you need to know that I really do love and appreciate you so, so much, my Sungchannie.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he nodded just the slightest against you, gently rocking the two of you side-to-side.

You grabbed one of his hands to play with his fingers, slightly calloused from the weightlifting you knew was part of his mandatory hockey conditioning. Hockey season was already halfway over. His last season. You couldn’t imagine Jung Sungchan not playing hockey.

“Channie?”

“My girl?”

“I know we already talked about moving in together after graduation, but… What are you going to do after hockey’s over? I kind of can’t picture you not on the ice.”

You could feel him take a deep breath, and his free hand came to join the fray as it found one of your wrists. Specifically, the one that sported a thick blue and orange paracord bracelet with five plastic alphabet beads on it—2-7-J-S-C—that every hockey player made their freshman year. Sungchan gave you his not too long ago, on your one-month anniversary.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, as if he couldn’t make himself say it any louder. “I’ve tried to think about it too and… I can’t. I’ve been playing since I was a kid. I don’t… really have anything else. Just school, hockey, and you.”

“We’ll find you a hobby or two,” you promised, squeezing his hand. “Maybe you can take piano lessons again.”

He chuckled, letting you gently curl and uncurl his crooked pinky, the one he had broken that made him stop playing in the first place. “I don’t know… I think that might be gone for me.”

“If it’s something you really liked, you should do it,” you insisted. “It would just be for fun. I think it’d be nice, if you found the right teacher.”

“Well…”

“If you want to, Channie. I’m just brainstorming here.”

“Hockey season’s not over yet,” he pointed out. “We can circle back around in the summer.”

“That’s true, that’s true,” you agreed. “You should be savoring every moment right now, not letting me make you prematurely existential. I’m sorry.”

“You’re forward-thinking, baby, I appreciate that.”

“But it’s your last season, you don’t need me reminding you of that all the time.”

“Then why are we still talking about it, hm?” He said, mischievous smile on his face.

“We’re not! We’re not!” You held your hands up in surrender. “It’s present time! I swear!”

Sungchan laughed as he leaned in to press a kiss to your temple.

“Hi, Mr. Zhong!” You were beaming as you walked into Chenle’s house the next day, immediately being wrapped in a bear hug by his dad. “Merry Christmas!”

“Y/N! It’s been too long, too long,” he complained as you went to hug your best friend next, who had also come to greet you.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” Chenle hugged you tightly.

“Merry Christmas, LeLe.”

Letting go of your friend, you turned back to his dad, who was still waiting for a response, his hands on his hips.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Zhong,” you bowed your head in apology. “We just get so busy with school and—”

“Yeah, Y/N’s been really busy with her new boyfriend!” Chenle announced loudly, making sure that every occupant in the whole house could hear him.

“Y/N! You have a boyfriend?!” Mrs. Zhong called from the kitchen.

“Boyfriend?!” Mr. Zhong echoed in shock, his eyes going comically wide.

You were already smacking Chenle on the head and pinching his ear furiously. “Zhong Chenle, you little— I’m going to kill you!”

Chenle jerked out of your grip and ran away, you hot on his heels. He ran right into the kitchen, where his mother and several aunties immediately swarmed you.

“Y/N!” Mrs. Zhong grasped you by the wrist, pulling you over towards the stove where several things were cooking. She grabbed a spoonful of something from a bubbling pot and held it out towards you to try. As you leaned forward to taste it, she asked, “So, who is this boyfriend Chenle is talking about?”

“Is he handsome?” Another woman asked.

“Does he hold the door open for you?”

“What’s his name?”

“Does he know how to cook?”

“Do we know him?”

“Does he have a job?”

“How did you two meet?”

“Show us a picture!”

You choked on the rather delicious spoonful of soup that you’d just taken as you heard Chenle’s cackling laughter in the background. Wiping your mouth, you turned around to shoot him a glare before answering some of their questions.

“His name is Jung Sungchan, he goes to the same college as Chenle and I. We actually all had a class together a few years ago,” you started off slowly.

“Pictures, Y/N!” One of the aunties insisted.

“Yeah, Y/N, show us pictures!” Chenle repeated. “Or I will.”

“I will end you,” you said through gritted teeth as you pulled out your phone. Flicking through your gallery, you found a few that you really liked.

They were from his last home game, and these in particular were taken by Taeyong, as it had been the game against their league rivals, which drew in the graduated Nu Chi brothers and team members. You pulled the first one up, him still in his uniform as you had gone down to congratulate him right on the ice. He was towering over you even more than normal in his skates, an arm around your shoulders as you wrapped both of yours around his waist, the two of you smiling at the camera. As you went to show the picture to everyone, your skin started growing hot with the ‘ooh’s and ‘aah’s that sprang up among the women.

“He plays hockey for our school, he’s actually captain.” You grew even more embarrassed as Mrs. Zhong zoomed in on Sungchan’s face.

“Chenle,” she looked up at her son with squinted eyes. “Is this your handsome friend who brought you home when you were drunk?”

“Mom, that was one time three years ago,” he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Chenle,” she said sternly.

“Yes, that’s him.”

Her face broke into a lovely smile. “Oh, I liked him. Very polite.”

“Yeah, I know, Mom. You still talk about it.”

“When was this?” You asked your friend with bewilderment. The two of you did everything together, including getting embarrassingly shitfaced as freshmen. Or, Chenle would get embarrassingly shitfaced and you would watch, thanks to your migraine meds.

“There was a Nu Chi party, after the Halloween one…” Chenle explained, and you appreciated him leaving out the details of the Halloween party in front of all these people. “Long story short, I didn’t realize how strong the punch was. Sungchan gave me a ride home.”

“Very polite, very handsome,” Mrs. Zhong nodded approvingly. She swiped to the next picture for you, this one of Sungchan kissing your cheek as you laughed and grabbed his jersey.

They all tittered and made various comments and approving noises, and you quickly turned your phone off and put it away bashfully.

“So, yeah… that’s him,” you finished awkwardly among their disappointed noises of you taking away the photos.

“I like him.” Chenle’s mom patted your cheek before turning back to the stove. “And if he gives you any trouble, you know Chenle will…”

“Mom did you see him? What do you think I could possibly do?” Chenle retorted. “He literally carried me in here over his shoulder, I don’t think I could really defend Y/N’s honor if it came to it!”

“Chenle…”

“Fine, Mom!”

v. i sat across from you, reading ulysses; and whilst i tried to project some intellect i’m not convinced i knew what it all meant, but i did know that the words were so pretty

“Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” Sungchan mumbled, resting his head on your shoulder.

You giggled, brushing some of his hair from his face. “Hmm, a couple times.”

“What?!” His head snapped back up, distress on his features. “Only twice?! God, what kind of boyfriend am I?”

The two of you were back in the team’s favorite dive bar, this time after the last home game of the season. It had been a smashing victory—in addition to the seniors’ last time to play a game on their home ice—meaning that everyone, including all of the long-graduated players and Nu Chi Tau brothers who had shown up, were celebrating extra hard tonight. You’d driven your car specifically to allow Sungchan to let loose for the occasion, hence his currently more-than-buzzed state.

He’d pulled you into his lap at the corner booth you were sitting at some time ago, morphing into the lovey-dovey cuddle monster that he always was when tipsy. Not that he exactly kept his hands to himself when he was sober either, but as soon as alcohol entered the equation, it was like he thought he’d die if he weren’t holding you at all times.

“I was playing, baby, you tell me that all the time,” you reassured him.

“Oh, good.” He breathed out in relief, going back to snuggling up to your shoulder. “Because you’re sooo pretty. Like, the prettiest person I’ve ever seen.”

“Thanks, Channie.” You kissed the top of his head. “I think you’re pretty, too.”

“You do?”

“For sure.” You traced the line of the bridge of his nose. “My pretty boy.”

He hummed contentedly, but didn’t say anything more, letting his eyes flutter shut.

Ten, Taeyong, and another graduated Nu Chi brother, Kun, came over to your booth then, sliding into the seat across from you.

“Is he asleep?” Taeyong gestured to Sungchan.

“No, just a cuddly drunk,” you explained with a fond chuckle.

“‘M not drunk…” Your boyfriend protested.

“Tell that to the victory shots you were doing with Hyuck, Jeno, and Yangyang an hour ago,” you snorted, pushing your glass of water over towards him. “Here, some water, Channie.”

Kun offered out the half-eaten basket of onion rings that he’d walked over with. “Have some of these, too, Sungchan.”

“Sweet, thanks!” He grabbed a couple and stuffed them in his mouth happily.

“Thanks, Kun,” you smiled at him. “He didn’t drink on an empty stomach, so we should be ready to go in a bit. I want him mostly able to walk on his own two feet before we leave, though. Carrying a drunk Chenle and drunk Sungchan would be very different experiences, I feel.”

They all snickered, and you looked over at where your friend was currently pulling all of the cash out of his pocket to bet on a pool game between Johnny, Jaehyun—a former hockey player who had graduated last year, Jungwoo, and Yuta—former hockey player and Nu Chi brother, from the same cohort as Johnny. It looked like Dejun was running the betting pool, collecting Chenle’s money in addition to Hendery’s, Mark’s, and Hyuck’s.

“I feel like we should do something about the gambling happening over there…” Taeyong sighed, having been looking in the same direction as you.

“Probably,” Kun agreed, though neither of them made any move to get up. They simultaneously took swigs of their drinks.

“Y/N, what did you think of the reading for Direct Study?” Ten asked you, resting his very pink cheek in his hand.

“Oh, I thought it was fantastic!” You lit up. You and Ten both had Dr. Son for a Direct Study course this semester, and he was letting you two collaborate since you had such similar tastes in literature—you had a feeling  your professor also liked having only one reading list and being able to meet with the both of you at once instead of separately. “I’ve always loved that author, though. The way her short stories can either be a quick read or you can really sit and take your time with them to absorb and peel back as many layers as you want.”

“You’ve read her before?”

“I recommended her to Dr. Son a while ago, actually. I read another one of her short story collections and sort of fell in love. I’ve been working through her whole body of work on my own time, but I hadn’t made it to this one yet, so I’m going into it with fresh eyes like you. I’m excited to see what you’ve been getting out of her works.”

“I think her diction is really fascinating.”

“Yes!” You gushed. “You can tell she takes her time with which words she’s using. Oh, I just love it.”

“You’re doing the Master’s in Literary Theory and Critical Analysis next year, right?”

“Yep! Picked my classes a couple weeks ago.”

Your friend flashed you a wide grin. “Thank God. There will be someone else competent.”

“Yeah, I’m doing Lit and Crit, and this one—” you patted Sungchan’s head as he was still shoveling onion rings in his mouth “—is going for his PhD in molecular biology.”

“Woah.” Ten’s eyebrows shot up.

“And what are you going to do with that, Sungchan?” Taeyong asked curiously.

“Fish,” your boyfriend answered absentmindedly through a mouthful of food.

You couldn’t help but laugh with your whole chest at his answer, even as you went to cover his mouth. “Chew and swallow before you talk, Channie. I think you just spat crumbs on poor Kun.”

The older man was flicking a piece of an onion ring off of his arm, giving you a strained, close-lipped smile.

Sungchan spent a considerable amount of time chewing his food, then washed it down with your water before giving a more cognizant answer. “I’m going to study a disease in a fish.”

“Molecular biology with a minor concentration in marine biology,” you corrected yourself and clarified his answer a bit more. “He’s joining one of his professors’ research teams.”

“Congrats, Sungchan,” the former Nu Chi president told him sincerely.

“Yeah, dude, wow,” Ten blinked, laughed, then shook his head. “You know, I don’t even know if I knew what your major actually was this whole time.”

“Seriously?” You snorted. “You two have been teammates for four years, and have lived together for two years.”

“I mean, I knew he was a STEM major,” Ten tried to defend himself. “But past that… yeah, I had no clue. It’s just sort of you know, when you think of Jung Sungchan, you think of hockey. He’s the hockey captain. I mean, does anybody really know Mark’s major?”

“I—”

“Not you, Taeyong, we know he was your Little.”

You opened and closed your mouth a couple of times, but found yourself drawing a blank. After all this time of getting closer to the team, you had sort of prided yourself on being friends with and knowing all of your boyfriend’s teammates on some individual level as people. But frustratingly, all you could think up for Mark was that he was Nu Chi president, center on the hockey team, and had been in your Comp I class a few years ago—a Gen Ed credit.

“Well damn,” you said bitterly.

“Exactly.”

After a beat, Taeyong spoke up quietly, “Music Theory. He likes producing music.”

Ten, Sungchan, and you all let out a chorus of ‘ohh’s at this revelation. You looked over at where Mark was spectating the pool game—from a vantage point of leaning tipsily against Johnny’s side when he wasn’t shooting, and against Jaehyun’s side when Johnny was shooting. You watched with amusement as he got passed back and forth, happy to see him being taken care of for once instead of taking care of all his friends.

“I should go swap out my Little’s drink for some water,” Taeyong announced. It was then that Hyuck must have made some comment to Mark, as Mark shoved his friend away with a loud complaint, his tone sounding rather embarrassed. “And my grand-little too…”

Dejun, Hendery, and Chenle were spectating their drunken spat in fits of giggles. Dejun and Hendery both reached for their drinks again, and Kun shook his head.

“I should do the same for my own demons before they get to that point,” Kun stood up with Taeyong.

Ten followed them out, “And I’m not going to third wheel. Bye, you two!”

“Bye, guys,” you gave the three of them farewells. “Congrats again, Ten.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he beamed down at you genuinely.

“Oh, Kun!” You called for him before he could get out of earshot.

He stopped a turned to you with an inquisitive eyebrow raised.

“Thanks for the onion rings, by the way.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I have one more favor to ask: Can you cut Chenle off too?” You requested. “And I’m not sure how you all are sorting out DDs tonight, but—”

“I’ll make sure he gets home safe,” he promised. “You two have a goodnight.”

“Thanks. Goodnight!”

Looking between Sungchan and the empty onion ring basket, you then checked the time on your phone.

“Alright, are you ready to go, baby?” You asked him quietly.

He nodded with his whole upper body. “Am I going home with you?”

“Yep. I’m taking you back to my place, and our classes all got canceled tomorrow for Spring Break, remember?” You shouldered your tote bag. “So we get to sleep in.”

“That’s my favorite thing.”

You giggled. “Sleeping in?”

“No, waking up with you,” he wrapped both his arms around your waist again. “And giving you a good morning kiss, and cooking breakfast for you, and helping you with your meds and your cuff.”

“I have a feeling I’ll be getting you meds in the morning tomorrow,” you quipped, pecking his forehead. “But I think mornings with my Sungchannie are one of my favorite things, too.”

“Sounds like a perfect match to me.”

“Hard to argue you with you there,” you snickered. “So are you ready to go? The sooner we go home and go to sleep, the sooner it’ll be morning, you know.”

“You’re so smart, baby. My girl’s the smartest ever…”

Pushing yourself out of his lap, you pulled him out of the booth after you and onto his feet. He immediately looped his arm around your shoulders, and you kept a hand on his chest and an arm around his waist to steady him as you started towards the exit. At the door, the two of you stopped to give the whole bar a final wave and call goodbye to anybody who heard you. You got a loud, raucous chorus of yelled and slurred goodbyes in return before you headed out to your car.

Back at your apartment, you made him change out of his clothes that smelled like the bar and into some of his that he kept here, then got into your own pajamas for the night before flopping into bed.

“Okay, question,” you announced as he laid his head in your lap, throwing an arm across your legs as if you were going anywhere.

“About?” He asked, his eyes fluttering shut and a content smile coming to his face as you started playing with his hair.

“How do you think you made it to the top two in Phantasmagorical Phriday this year? I mean, I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m not trying to be mean, Channie, or like, a Lit major elitist or anything, but Chenle and I have both been studying this stuff for four years now, right? Hendery has at least taken professional writing classes and some other stuff for his Comm degree. I think. But, no offense, you STEM majors aren’t exactly lauded for your excellent prose. First year, okay, we’re all brand new at it, and Dr. Son actually did real workshopping with us on it. But after that, we were essentially just getting coffee together once a month and then sending him a short story.”

He squinted one eye open to peer up at you curiously. “Do you think I bought off Dr. Son or something?”

“Bought off our professor so that you would almost win? Sounds like a waste of your money. Maybe bought off Chenle and Hendery to write shitty stories this year and better your chances? But you knew I was so morally upstanding that I wouldn’t take the bribe.”

“Oh, definitely. You’ve cracked it,” he snickered, closing his eyes again to enjoy your fingers working through his hair.

“I mean… Do you have a secret poetry journal in here somewhere?”

“No. You just kind of are being a little bit of a—” he was cut off by a loud yawn “—Lit major elitist, baby.”

“Mm?” You tilted your head with a confusion, perturbed frown on your face.

“You think that every STEM major just gets their Gen Ed humanities credits and never picks up a book again for the rest of their life.”

“Well…”

“Am I wrong?”

“It’s not like I’m out here balancing equations for fun!” You tried to defend yourself. “I got my science credits and never looked back.”

“I took a few more creative writing and literature classes sometimes,” he shrugged. “Whenever I had a spare slot in my schedule, or needed a couple credits of whatever to keep my scholarship for the semester.”

“Yeah, student athletes, you guys have to be full-time in order to keep your scholarships.”

“Mhm. Sometimes all the classes I needed for my degree that were happening in a semester didn’t uhm, didn’t make the minimum credits, so I needed another class or two.”

“Why lit classes? And writing classes?”

“Baby, it’s literally what you’ve been studying for four years and you’re acting like you can’t understand why anybody would be interested in it,” Sungchan pointed out, pinching your thigh.

You swatted his hand away. “No, I’m just trying to understand you.”

“Did I really act like I hated Dr. Son’s class that much freshman year? I did all four years of Phantasmagorical Phriday.”

“No, you didn’t seem like you hated it or anything. I just thought that you would’ve used the extra slots for easy classes. PE or something.”

“Yeah, Coach was always trying to get me to take his classes.”

“But you just really like writing and lit classes that much?”

“Why is this so surprising to you?”

“Well— I just kind of feel bad that I keep leaving you out of all the crit lit conversations that Ten and I have,” you admitted guiltily, not intending to leave him out of all your fun conversation with his teammate about books in your lit classes, but he never seemed all that interested; nor had he read any of the books, to your knowledge. “Do you want to borrow books or read along so you can talk with us about it?”

“That’s okay, baby,” he told you, reaching up to pat your hands that were already on top of his head. “Honestly, I like listening to you talk about all this stuff more than I ever liked the classes themselves.” After a beat, he absentmindedly added, “I would kind of pick them half-hoping you had signed up for the class, too.”

You tilted your head curiously. “Really?”

“It was more like a little daydream that I had. That I’d walk in on the first day of class and you’d be sitting there and recognize me and smile at me and ask if I wanted to sit with you. Then, you know, we’d swap notes, be study buddies, and I would finally get the courage to ask you out,” Sungchan sighed, nuzzling his cheek against your thigh in an almost nostalgic and bittersweet way.

“Channie…”

“That was really embarrassing to admit. I thought I was going to die without telling anybody that, especially you,” he mumbled, his voice becoming more muffled as he turned his head to fully bury his face in your lap.

“You are a bit tipsy, baby,” you reminded him gently, stroking the back of his head.

He turned onto his back to fully look up at you, taking a slow blink before adding emphatically, “And I just love you so much.”

You grabbed him by the sides of the face to look him in the eye very seriously, but couldn’t hold it for very long, tender smile coming back to your features almost immediately.

“I love you too,” you affirmed, and he was once again beaming, grabbing your hand to presumably kiss your knuckles, but he missed a bit and kissed the back of your wrist instead. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course! Anything for my girl.”

“Your girl wants to know…” You said your words slowly and enunciated to make sure he understood. “On the first day of Dr. Son’s class, do you remember how you felt about me then?”

Specifically, you were thinking about the second game of the season, when you’d learned about Hendery and Chenle’s bet from freshman year. Hendery swore he could tell Sungchan had a crush on you from the first day of Dr. Son’s class, but you had your doubts. Mostly because you yourself couldn’t even remember looking at Sungchan on the first day of class, much less even talking or, God forbid, flirting with him—literally anything that would warrant him apparently outwardly crushing on you.

His face immediately scrunched up. “Mmm…”

“It’s okay baby, I know it was a long time ago, and you’ve had a bit to drink—”

“No, I remember, I remember. I’m just afraid you’re going to think I’m a creep…”

“More of a creep than signing up for classes in my major hoping I was going to be in them?”

“I’m sorry!” He rushed to apologize, his features immediately turning distraught as he half-sat up in his haste to say sorry.

“Shh, shh, my Sungchannie, it’s okay, it’s okay,” you quieted him, squeezing his hand that he was still holding and stroking his forehead, encouraging him to lay down again. “I was just teasing you, I’m sorry, that was mean of me. I think it’s cute, I promise.”

“You think I’m cute?” He asked with a heavy pout.

“Baby boy, I’m in love with you. Of course I think you’re cute.”

The corners of his mouth pulled back into a small smile. “Yay…”

“So? Will you please tell me?”

“M’kay…” He huffed and readjusted again, this time to rest some of his weight on his shoulder as his head was still pillowed in your lap. “I remember everything about that first class, you know? The room number, where we were all sitting, the Phantasma Phour…”

“Really?”

“Third flour, 3104.”

“I thought Gothic Lit was on the second floor?”

“It was on the third floor only for the first week then it got moved to the second floor for the rest of the semester.”

“Huh. Good memory.”

“I remember because the third floor of the Lang building is always super hot, but I didn’t know that because it was our first day. I wore my new hoodie from the team because I was so proud to be on the team, but I didn’t have another shirt on under it because I heard the Science building was always cold from some other Bio majors, so I thought I wasn’t going to have to take it off. So when we were in Dr. Son’s class that first day, I couldn’t take the hoodie off, even though it was like a billion degrees in that room…”

“Oh, oh no, Channie.” You attempted to coo sympathetically through your chuckles.

Sungchan sighed, pulling your hand back to his hair. “Anyway, Dr. Son had us in that Socratic circle, remember?”

“Yep, I remember.” You nodded, obliging to his whims easily and playing with his hair again.

“I was right next to the door, because I just wanted to get in and out of there. Hendery ran in a couple minutes late, and he ended up next to me. You and Chenle sat together at the front, a few seats away from Dr. Son’s desk, right next to the window. I just remember thinking that you were really pretty, with the window kind of giving you this little halo of light.”

“Baby, how is that creepy?” You chuckled. “You thought I was pretty.”

“You don’t remember what happened in the rest of that first class, do you?”

“What? What happened?”

“Dr. Son had us do an icebreaker with a partner…” He trailed off leadingly.

“Channie, I’ve taken so many of Dr. Son’s classes at this point, I can’t even remember who I was paired up with for that one,” you tried to reassure him.

“It was me.”

“Oh.”

“So not only was I a sweaty mess in that hoodie, but I had to be a sweaty mess while talking to this really pretty girl.”

“Channie…” You looked down at him, guilty for not remembering this at all. Though maybe it was for the better if he was apparently such a mess? Maybe that would soothe his distress over “embarrassing” himself in front of you.

“I thought Dr. Son was going to have us ask the normal stuff, name, major, year, you know. But it was Dr. Son, so of course it wasn’t normal.”

“Of course.”

“He made us ask all that, and made us ask each other something we were afraid of, and something we wanted. It wasn’t going to be shared with the class, just with our partner. I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of you, pretty girl that I knew nothing about other than your name, that you were a freshman, and a Lit major. I really wanted to impress you, but I couldn’t come up with anything super deep. Do you know what I said?”

“No…” You confessed, tone already apologetic as you held his gaze. “I’m so sorry, baby, I don’t remember any of this.”

“S’okay…” He yawned again. “I said the truth. I was afraid of not being as good at hockey as I thought I was, and that I wanted to be team captain one day.”

“Those were good answers. It was the truth, not some philosophical lie. And look at you now, baby boy,” you told him strongly, patting his chest before going back to stroking his head.

“Mm… Back then you just kind of had this look on your face that wasn’t really dislike or even boredom or anything but just sort of like… that was exactly what you were expecting me to say. I felt like I’d just put myself into the dumb, self-centered, sports-obsessed jock archetype in your mind and I’d never be able to get out. Because then you answered and I wanted to smack myself for giving such stupid answers and wearing that stupid hoodie.”

“What did I say?”

“You were afraid of what the outcome of your brain MRI was going to be. And you wanted to hurt less.”

Your jaw dropped in mortification. “Oh my god… Sungchan, I’m so sorry I just dumped all that on you literally the first time we met. I…I had a lot going on then, with my migraines. I had just started seeing my neuro like a month before classes started, she ordered the MRI as a just in case thing, but it still made me so freaked. My appointment to go over the results was after my classes that day, I literally couldn’t think about anything else. All I remember about the first day of freshman year is that appointment, getting the clean results. Holy shit, don’t tell me I dropped that on you and left you hanging about whether or not I was fine?”

“When I saw you on Wednesday actually laughing and smiling with Chenle, I was hopeful. I didn’t want to ask you in case it wasn’t good, though, and you were just trying to distract yourself or something. So I caught up to Chenle after class a while later and asked him. After Dr. Son started the Phantasma Phour stuff. He didn’t tell me about your migraines, just said that the results were clean.”

“Ah, Channie… None of that was creepy.” You promised sweetly, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“This is the creepy part…” He mumbled, gaze turning downwards. “Jeno saw me when I was talking to Chenle and invited me to the Nu Chi Halloween party that year, Chenle too. And Chenle brought you, and you got a migraine.”

“I didn’t realize you were there too. Did you see me screaming my head off?”

“No. I was trying to keep Jeno distracted.”

“Jeno?” You echoed, confused.

“Jeno said in the locker room…” Another yawn. He rubbed his eye. “He said he invited Chenle because he knew Chenle was going to bring you, and he wanted to sleep with you. But he didn’t think you would’ve come if he had invited you himself.”

You pursed your lips thoughtfully at this new revelation. “Huh…”

“I was keeping Jeno distracted with beer pong and stuff, but he finally slipped away, I guess at the same time you got your migraine. When he told me the next day that he was giving up on fucking you because you’d punched him in the face and he ‘knew better than to stick his dick in crazy,’ I thought you decked him for coming onto you and just admired you even more.”

“Not quite,” you laughed, remembering the bloody nose he’d nursed all night in the same room that you were nursing your migraine and Chenle sobered up. “But this story does add a whole new layer to my friendship with Jeno… Does Chenle know about this?”

“I don’t think so. Or Jeno would have gotten his nose broken again, right?”

“Probably.”

“Are you mad?”

“What would I be mad about? You having a crush on me? Our mutual friend wanting to fuck me one time three years ago?” You snorted, cupping his cheeks to get him to roll over and look at you again. “Baby, the only person I could possibly be upset with here is myself for not even giving you a second look in that class three years ago. Because then I could’ve had my Sungchannie this whole time.”

“Noooo…” He whined, shaking his head zealously. “I should’ve actually done something instead of just pining like a loserboy.”

“But you’re my loserboy now.”

His eyes widened. “You think I’m a loser?”

“Of course. My prettiest, cutest, sweetest, loveliest—” you punctuated each adjective with a kiss to his nose “—loserboy that I love so much.”

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.” You smiled down at him. “Now, I think that’s plenty of tipsy confessions for one night. It’s time for you to sleep, my Sungchannie.”

As you started readjusting to lay down next to him on the mattress, he grabbed you and pulled you into his chest like a teddy bear.

“You didn’t want to, right?” His voice was right under your ear.

“What?”

“Sleep with Jeno?”

You lowered your voice conspiratorially, “I’m going to tell you a secret: I couldn’t tell any of the Nu Chi guys apart for the longest time. Didn’t even know Jeno’s name until I broke his nose. To me, they were all just gross frat guys who probably didn’t know how to wash their dicks.”

“Should’ve kept it that way,” he grumbled, holding you even tighter.

“Oh? You want me to unlearn all of our friends and acquaintances names?” You teased, wrapping one of your arms around him too.

“Can you?” He asked hopefully.

“Not quite how it works, I’m afraid,” you clicked your tongue. At his tipsy whines starting back up again, you hushed him once more, “Shh, it’s okay. I might know all their names, but none of them get to be baby boy.”

“Oh. Yeah.” He agreed, and you could hear the smug smile in his voice.

“You need anything else from your girl? Or will you finally let her sleep?”

“Kiss?”

“Of course.”

Tilting your head up, you pressed your lips to Sungchan’s. He hummed contentedly against your mouth, unhurried in his motions as he met your every move. You sleepily kissed him, entirely unaware of time, but finally pulling back when your lids were getting too heavy to properly open back up. Blindly giving one more kiss to the corner of his mouth—it felt more like the side of his bottom lip, honestly—you settled your head back on his chest.

“There you go, Channie.” You yawned, pushing your face further into him. “Goodnight… I love you.”

“Goodnight, baby,” he was mumbling too, presumably also on the brink of falling asleep. “Love… you…”

vi. whilst i make space for all the parts of me that i do not want, i let them be, as minds twist through the fractured expanse of our being

“Okay, thank you,” you forced a casual nod to your doctor as she entered in a few more things on her computer.

“The ladies up front will schedule everything when you check out,” she offered you a kind smile. “Do you have any more questions for me today, Y/N?”

“No, no, just uh… need to get everything scheduled, you know.”

“Alright, well it was good to see you as always,” she stood up, leading you towards the door of the exam room. “And I’ll see you again soon. Have a good day.”

“You too.”

You went through the motions of checking out and scheduling, adding the next appointments to your phone calendar with the receptionist at the front desk, then shuffled out to the parking lot. Your mind was still reeling as you got into the passenger seat of Sungchan’s car.

“Hey, how’d it go?” He turned in his seat to ask you. It was just one of your normal check-ups with your neurologist today, and with the hockey season over, Sungchan had the time to take you to and from the appointment, promising to take you out for dinner after. You didn’t have much of an appetite anymore.

Your gaze was locked on the dashboard in front of you. Your jaw clenched as you tried to battle back the tears that threatened to well up and just answer him.

“They’re getting worse again. Increase in- in frequency and severity,” you finally choked out. “My neuro wants to get a blood panel and brain MRI done again. She says we probably just need to adjust my meds again but—”

“A brain MRI?” Sungchan echoed in disbelief.

“Make sure there’s nothing in there that’s not supposed to be in there. It’s always clean, but every single time, the what if… it’s scary,” you admitted, your voice getting smaller as the tears finally came, spilling over onto your cheeks and down into your lap.

“Oh… oh baby,” his voice softened as he reached over to take your hand.

“And even if everything, all of that fucking shit is clean. It just means that my stupid fucking meds have stopped working and my stupid fucking body isn’t working like it’s supposed to and I have to do it all over again. Trying out more medications that’ll do God fucking knows what to me until we find the new perfect concoction that keeps me a semi-functioning person. God dammit!” You spat out, slamming your other hand down in a fist against the dash. “Ow, fuck, that hurt. God, fucking stupid…”

Sungchan grabbed both your hands with one of his, keeping them in your lap as he wiped at your tears with his free hand. “Baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” you blubbered. “That you got me and that I’m—”

“Stop it,” he cut you off sternly, with the harshest tone he’d ever taken with you. “Don’t you dare start apologizing for this. I wouldn’t let anybody else talk about you like that around me, and you’re not going to either.”

“God, yeah, okay,” you nodded and sniffled. “Thanks, Channie.”

“When is it? The MRI?”

“I-I have it in my calendar somewhere.”

“I’ll go with you,” he promised, cradling your chin in his palm to get you to look at him. “Whenever it is, I’ll go with you. And when you go get the results, okay? Car, waiting room, exam room, wherever you want me, alright? But you won’t be alone.”

You bit your bottom lip, squeezing his hand tight with both of yours. “I’d really like that. Thank you.”

He leaned across the center console to press a kiss to your forehead. “Anything for my girl.”

➠ next | series masterlist | blog masterlist

[atlasscrumpit]

Platonic yandere Hannibal/Will x Reader

(had a weird dream so it inspired this)

You sat in your room, scratching your arm to the point blood was being drawn.

Your door opened and you looked up to see the doctor who had kept you since you were a child.

"Hello, sweet girl." Hannibal whispered before sitting on the edge of your bed.

He slowly reached forward and took your hand away from your arm.

"Now, my sweet girl. I told you to stop scratching at the scabs." He said, looking at you with disappointment.

"I'm sorry... Do I have to take anymore medicine today? I don't like it." You whispered as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You have to have a needle today, sweetheart." He said, you looked away from him.

"No." You grumbled making him sigh.

"Y/N, you know how this will end if you keep up this behaviour." He muttered as you glared at him.

"It's not fair. You shouldn't be hurting me." You grumbled with tears in your eyes.

"How many time must we do this, Y/N? All this this is for you." He said as you began to cry.

"Now, are you going to be good?" He asked as you quickly got up and ran for the door.

"Will!" He shouted as Will grabbed you from wjere he was hiding behind the wall.

"No! Let me go! Stop it, please!" You screamed as Will dragged you back into your room.

"Calm down, Y/N! It's okay!" He shouted before he pinned you against the wall.

You sobbed and tried to escaped before you felt pain in the back of your neck.

"Stay still, darling." Hannibal whispered as you sobbed from the pain and distress.

You squirmed until your hand found Will's and you gripped onto it tightly.

"Good girl, it's okay." He whispered as Hannibal injected the strange serum.

You finally stopped struggling and Hannibal finished giving you the dose and pulled the needle out.

You sobbed quietly before you knees gave out and Will quickly caught you and picked you up.

"Easy, sweetheart." He whispered before taking you to your bed and laying you back down.

You continued to cry as Will tucked you in and grabbed your toy.

"Hurts." You whispered as he sat on the side of your bed.

"I know, it'll stop hurting soon." He said, brushing some hair away from your face.

"I'll go get her some food and water." Hannibal stated before leaving the room.

"Why do you keep hurting me?" You whispered, looking up at Will. Between him and Hannibal, he was definitely the one who felt guilt the most.

"We don't want to, sweetheart. But, it's just something we have to do." He said, running his finger down the side of your face.

"But why?" You whispered making him sigh.

"You're sick, and these medicines help." He lied, he knew you wouldn't be able to handle the truth that you were actually just Hannibal's Guinea pig.

They had initially planned to just throw you away once they were done with you...but someone got a little too attached.

Hannibal entered the room with some porridge and a glass of water, Will helped you to sit up and you rested against him as Hannibal placed the bowl in front of you.

"I don't want it." You grumbled as Hannibal sighed and sat on the other side of you and guided a spoon to your mouth.

"If you eat this entire bowl we can have an entire hour outside." He said as you bit the inside of your lip in thought.

"Fine..." You grumbled making them smile as you let Hannibal feed you.

After half a bowl you groaned a little.

"Don't feel...well." You whispered  Will watched as your face paled and he quickly helped you up and rushed to the bathroom.

You fell to your knees and threw up into the toilet.

You began to cry as Will knelt down and let you lean against him.

"Shh, it's okay, it's alright." He whispered, tying your hair up.

"Sorry..." You whispered through your tears, Hannibal walked in and gave you a glass of water and a small pill.

"Take this, sweetheart. It will stop you feeling ill." He said as you took the pill with some water and rested against Will again.

"Sorry, didn't mean it." You whispered before slowly falling unconscious against Will.

"The serum needs a little testing." Hannibal muttered while Will picked you up.

"You can handle that later, Hannibal. She's obviously not well." Will scolded him as he brought you back to your bed.

"Very well. I'll check her vitals."

--

Hannibal sat beside your bed, stroking your hair softly before Will walked in.

"Is she going to be okay?" Will asked as he sat on the other side of you.

"Yes... But, I'm afraid we've pushed her far enough. Her body can't take anymore experimentation." He said as Will looked at him.

"So, what does that mean?" He asked making the man sigh.

"I suppose we give her a peaceful death and bury her with the rest of them." Hannibal said as Will glared at him.

"No... We aren't doing that, not with her. She's different and you know it, I'm not letting her go." Will grumbled as he stood up and faced Hannibal.

"You promised me you wouldn't get attached to any of them. But, fine if you want a pet you can keep her but you have to take care of her." Hannibal replied before standing up and walking out of your room.

Will wanted to smack some sense into him, but he knew that deep down Hannibal cared about you, he'd never acted like this with any of the others.

Will sighed and ran a finger down the side of your face.

"You're not going anywhere, sweetheart. Don't worry."

[salem-witch-slut]

This Is What I Know Of Life

Kara Danvers X Masc! FemReader

SYNOPSIS: After saving Kara from a horrible date in a bar, you can't keep the blonde out of your mind no matter how hard you try. You just had to know her.

WORD COUNT: 9.4K

WARNINGS: Canon typical violence, lesbian reader, reader described as muscular with many tattoos, mentions of blood and medical procedures (stitches, needles, etc.), shameless flirting

Author's Note: So this was on my old blog and I just had to bring it back. It's exactly like it was before, so if you missed it, here it is! I will be adding more of my old fics back to this account, but let's start with my favorite!

DIVIDERS MADE BY @cafekitsune

This is what I know of life: Love fiercely, even recklessly; Laugh loudly, even raucously; Risk everything, at least once; Live openly, without abandon; Build trust, be honest;

Kara had no clue what she was thinking when she considered this.

Internet dating? It reminded her painfully of when she first came out as Supergirl. That was the worst date she had ever been on… until tonight. The blonde Kryptonian had chosen a black skirt this time, and an off-shoulder pastel blue blouse to try and accentuate the definition in her collarbones and shoulders, which Alex had suggested she show off more often.

Almost as soon as she met the man at the bar, she was uncomfortable. But it seemed that no matter what she had been able to say, he wasn’t backing down, moving away, or taking no for an answer. The bar was incredibly crowded and if she ended up using her powers on him, she would be seen and that would be a very, very difficult thing to talk her way out of.

Kara couldn’t look at her phone, or text Alex 911 to get the hell out of there. Kara felt stuck, and she was not a fan of this feeling. This guy was the worst, and he was getting far more intoxicated than she was comfortable with.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” Kara asked, watching her date down another shot and watching him sway slightly against the bar counter.

The man chortled, which made her extra-terrestrial skin crawl. “Don’t you worry ‘bout me, baby.”

She wanted to throw up… And then, things got ten times worse.

Kara may have had superhuman abilities, and could fly at the speed of sound… But nothing could have prepared her for the feeling of the man’s grimy hand against her rear. The blonde tensed so hard that she almost lit the countertop on fire with her laser eyes.

Kara was about to snap. Exposure be damned, she was going to break this man’s fingers until he could never even hold a glass again. Her blood was boiling and she turned to look up at him and destroy him, but paused at seeing a hand tapping her “date” on the shoulder.

Kara watched him turn around and before he could even ask “What do you want?” A fist went directly across his face. Kara gaped, her eyes widening in shock as she saw someone knock the drunk flat on his ass. He stumbled from the bar counter and onto the ground as the someone stood over his body, shoulders squaring aggressively and brows pulled down.

What does she do about this?!

“Keep your filthy fucking hands off of her,” You snarled, grabbing at his collar and kneeling down low enough to seethe in his face. For a second, Kara was worried about the guy laying on his back, but then her eyes ended up drifting to the hand curled into his shirt… you were wearing rings on almost every single finger, and you had a tattoo of a moth on top of your hand.

You may have had more tattoos but your arms were hidden behind the button down black shirt that was rolled up to the middle of your forearms… Forearms that were massive and veined, clearly dripping with power. That hit must have hurt like hell.

Kara found herself blushing. Whether it was from embarrassment, or flattery, she didn’t know.

The man on the ground groaned, looking up at you with a dizzy expression and immediately started smirking, blood on his teeth. “Ain’t scared of you, dyke.”

The entirety of the bar let out a gasp as you hit the man again. There was no doubt his nose was broken, and Kara made a face of terror as you stood up, seeing your knuckles bruising and covered in the man’s blood. Most were his, but the first punch had left a cut on your finger from the guy’s teeth.

“Are you—” Kara watched you stand up straight, having to look up to meet your gaze. She pushed her glasses up on her nose and her brows pulled down in distress. “Who are you? Are you out of your mind?”

You reached out for a napkin on the bar and wiped the blood off your knuckles and cleaned the rings on your fingers. You didn’t respond to her initial questions, but instead, asked one of your own. She blushed all over again. “Are you alright, sweetheart?”

Kara gaped, giving a remarkable impression of a fish out of water. “I-I’m fine! I could have handled him; I can take care of myself!” The super went on the defensive immediately. She wasn’t about to let you put her into the persona of a weak, innocent girl that needed protecting. She had lived her entire life with other people taking care of her and she didn’t need random women at the bar taking pity on her and fighting her battles for her.

All you did was smile, which made her stomach twist uncomfortably. You looked so nice when you smiled like that. “I didn’t say you couldn’t.”

Kara watched as the bouncers of the bar were dragging the man out of the building, not even looking at you or acting against your demonstration of violence. “Then why did you just—”

“I’m not a fan of assholes who take advantage of pretty girls in crowded spaces where they can’t say no,” You cleared up immediately. “He wasn’t backing down and you had been uncomfortable since you got your first drink… I wanted to knock his ass out for a while.”

Kara tried to focus on the entirety of your words… not that you just called her pretty. “Were you watching us?”

You smirked, not meeting her eyes before you reached down to your hip and tapped the pistol holstered on your side. Kara suddenly felt uncomfortable. Why did you have a gun? Why were you allowed to carry a weapon in a club? Who were you?

“It’s my job to watch everyone that comes in, sweetheart.”

A shout of your name across the bar had you looking up and you saw the bartender approaching you with a first-aid kit. “Why didn’t you just restrain him and call the cops?”

You smirked, grabbing an alcohol wipe and rubbing it across the cut on your knuckle. “Needed a harder lesson, Rick… Did Tommy call the police?”

“Yeah, pulling up in five minutes. They’ll want a statement from you and her, you know,” Rick pointed at Kara who immediately went pale in the face.

“I’ll handle it. Thanks buddy,” You sighed, sitting down on the bar stool and wiping off your own blood and the blood of the asshole’s that’s currently bleeding all over his cheap blazer. Kara was beginning to understand what your role here was and she sat down on the bar stool next to yours. The slice on your knuckle just kept bleeding and you tore open a gauze patch with your teeth.

“Here,” Kara immediately grabbed your hand, much to your surprise. Almost immediately, her cheeks were tinting pink as she placed the gauze over the cut and began to wrap it up. Your hands were so warm that it was making her shiver. “Are you alright?”

“You don’t need to worry about me, sweetheart,” You smiled, and Kara rolled her eyes.

“My name is Kara, not sweetheart,” She corrected as she released your hand, making you chuckle and lean against the bar’s counter with a smile that she couldn’t not respond to with her own smile. You called the bartender back over and looked at Kara one more time before saying what to get her.

“Get miss Kara here anything she wants to drink, and close out her tab,” You gently reached out and Kara almost flinched away before you slid your uninjured hand through the blonde hair framing her face and pushed it over her bare shoulder. She shivered at your touch. “Anything you want, its on the house. Just don’t get too drunk, alright?”

Before Kara could protest, you stood up from your seat and walked back into the crowd. Kara watched you walk away, biting her lip and then looking back at the bartender who was simply waiting for whatever she wanted. Kara couldn’t keep her thoughts away as her brain teased “Are you sure that the thing you want didn’t just walk away?”

It was 3 AM by the time Kara was leaving the building. Everyone else had gone and she was one of the last patrons to exit. What made her linger for so long when she had no reason to stick around? Well, she was waiting for you…

The police had already come and taken your statement, but they never talked to her. When you said that you’d take care of it, you must have taken care of everything because her “date” had been arrested and you actually waved when they drove off with him in the car.

She wanted to talk to you again, but you were busy and she didn’t want to distract you… Three other people had been escorted out of the building that night by you, but none of them had gotten hit like her date had. You were polite with everyone else, even with them being belligerent… It didn’t make sense to Kara. She needed to know what was happening in that head of yours.

You were taking the walkie off your hip and passing it to the other bouncer as you removed the pistol from your hip and ejected the magazine. Kara watched you check to see if it was still loaded before you clicked on the safety and handed the gun and holster over to your coworker.

When you turned away, you came to a stop at seeing Kara standing there at the door, looking at you with a nervous expression on her face.

“Hey,” You approached her, rubbing the back of your neck and smiling. “Didn’t know you were still here. Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” Kara reassured you, a smile growing on her face and showing off her pretty white teeth. “I was just uhm… Do you want to take a walk with me? I live about 8 blocks away, and you can just…”

“Walk you home?” You smiled and held out your hand for her to go forward first. “Lead the way, miss Kara.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silent walk, enjoying the warm night air of National City. Kara held her jacket in front of her while keeping her steps slow to have them sync with yours. She took a nervous glance over at you and saw that you were smiling, both hands tucked into the pockets of your trousers that just looked so incredible on you.

“Why did you hit him?” The question seemed to catch you off-guard. When you looked up, Kara clarified, adjusting her glasses. “I saw you throw others out… You didn’t hit those guys. Why’d you hit that guy?”

 You took a long moment to consider why exactly you hit him. Kara was getting worried, like you didn’t really know what made you snap and attack a patron in such an unprovoked way. The way your fingers rubbed at the skin on your cheek and how your stride seemed to slow to almost a stop. Kara frowned, waiting patiently for your answer.

“He didn’t deserve to be near you,” You stated coldly. “Saw him four nights in a row with four other girls… Each time, he wouldn’t keep his hands to himself. I guess seeing him do it to you really pissed me off.”

“But you don’t even know me,” Kara said.

You sighed. “I don’t. But pretty girls like you have always been one of my weaknesses. I guess I got a bit protective—I don’t know,” The confession felt like vinegar on your tongue and Kara came to a full stop in her walk as she stared up at your face. “I’m sorry, miss Kara. I was in the wrong. I took matters into my own hands instead of doing the right thing.”

The silence was no longer comfortable around you two. It was tense and Kara felt almost uncomfortable… Not because she was upset with you or scared of you. But because she seemed to almost like how you defended and fought for her at the bar. She had friends that would defend her, and her sister would always be by her side… But no one had displayed this level of protectiveness over her before.

You looked down at her and cautiously stepped forward. When Kara didn’t step back, you decided that she wasn’t going to pull away and you reached down, tracing your fingertips across her forehead and brushing her blonde hair away from her face. Kara blushed, watching as you tucked the blonde locks behind her ear around her glasses.

Kara reached up and held your hand against her face, leaning into your palm and basking in the cool of your soft touch. You stroked your thumb across her cheekbone and smiled, pulling your hand back and leaving the blonde to pout a little at the lack of contact.

“We should get you home, sweetheart. It’s getting late.”

Why did the idea of leaving you make her so sad?

The chaos that flooded the top floor of CatCo was very familiar to Kara. Only this time it had nothing to do with Supergirl, and everything to do with the bar last night. She saw on the dozens of TV screens her date being hauled out of the building covered in his own blood.

“Kara, wasn’t that…” The sound of Winn’s voice didn’t surprise her, but she still stepped to the side trying to avoid his questions. “That was the guy you—”

“The guy I went out with, yes, I’m aware,” Kara sighed, pushing her glasses on her nose and trying to relax her emotions. She chose to listen to the broadcast, but normally she’d tune it out to ignore the words that the news said.

“-Richard Hendrics was apprehended outside of a nightclub just off of 45th Street, guised under a fake name ‘Ivan Neward.’ Authorities have Hendrics in custody after the club’s security guard took down the perpetrator; we have her words from the scene last night.”

Kara felt her face heat up when the screen changed, and your interview pulled up.

“I’ve seen this guy five times this week. He shows up, brings another girl, and gets drunk. We do what we can to protect everybody that walks through those doors, but things are chaos during these nights. We need everybody to be vigilant, and if you see someone being uncomfortable and they look as if they are in danger, you have to speak up. Protect each other.”

Your voice carried throughout all of the office room and Kara felt her heart pound inside of her chest. You cared so much for others, and it was so sweet to see your concern for everybody—for her.

“Was there a woman here tonight that you protected? Where is she now?”

The camera attempted to pan over to the club and try to find Kara inside before you grabbed the camera and yanked it away. “She is not part of this interview. That is all I will say on this, no more questions!”

Chaos erupted as you began walking away. Kara bit her lip, watching you walk away. You looked so good going back inside of the building and away from the scene outside. Winn looked over and saw just how bad Kara was blushing at seeing you on the screens and bit down on her bottom lip… She used to look at James like that. What was she thinking?

“You got that weird little smitten face,” Winn said, nudging Kara with his hip. “Who is she?”

“Who?” Kara looked up. “Oh! Uhm, sh-she’s just a… some girl from the bar. She kind of p-protected me from that guy and uhm… It-it’s a long story.”

Kara just brushed it off, trying to ignore the feeling of shivers going over her spine as the interview freeze framed on you looking like you were about to knock the reporter’s lights out. Evidence of blood on your fist was a dead giveaway that you were the one that beat up Hendrics.

“Was she the one that—”

“Kicked his butt? Yeah.”

Kara immediately turned away from the screens and sat down at her desk for a grand total of five seconds before she heard Cat calling her name… or, not exactly her name.

“KYRA!” The Kryptonian huffed before she stood from her chair and aggressively walked into Cat’s office.

“Ms. Grant?”

“You see this woman?” Cat stood in front of the TV screens. Your image was plastered on every single one of them. Kara felt her stomach twist. “She is… inspiring. She is an everyday hero and inspired thousands of women to speak up and defend each other. The internet is exploding with confessions of dates that have gone wrong, and countless sex offenders have been arrested in all but twelve hours.”

Kara was speechless, but in Cat’s presence, that happens very often. The woman was a legend, and she was calling you inspiring. “I want that woman.”

“You—you want her?”

Cat turned around slowly, staring at Kara like she was an idiot. “I need an exclusive with that woman. She’s the height of the media; the face on every news station. As violent as she may be, she is someone that deserves to be heard.”

“Oh, you want to interview her—” Kara took a deeper breath, like she couldn’t believe that the idea of Cat Grant wanting you carnally even crossed her mind.

“Kyra, I could not have been clearer. My days of experimentation are over after drinking all night with Madonna,” Kara blinked a few times, trying to comprehend what she just kind of haphazardly admitted. Cat Grant had experimented with women—no, she experimented with Madonna! What the actual—

“Get me that woman. I want an interview today! Go, now!”

Kara nearly stumbled out of the room to escape from Cat’s hungry gaze. It made her uncomfortable for a whole new reason; one she didn’t truthfully like. There was one thing she had on her focus now, and she wasn’t sure that she was up to the task.

Winn ran up next to Kara’s desk as she went into her phone and scrolled through the contacts inside of it like her life depended on it. “What did she say? What are you doing?”

“Cat wants an interview,” Kara clicked on one of her contacts and stood up, slowly stepping in a circle and waiting.

“Interview with…”

“Hi! Hello, hi, I don’t know if you remember me. We met last night at the club? Kara Danvers?”

A soft chuckle sounded on the other end and Kara shivered at your voice. “How could I forget? What can I do for you, miss Kara?”

Two hours went by. Two full hours of Kara sitting at her desk like one wrong move would make the building explode. Every few seconds she would look at the door and wait for you to come out of the elevator, but she couldn’t hear or see you… You were unlike Cat when she was in her elevator. She always talked to herself. You were silent.

But there was one thing she did hear… a very, very fast heartbeat. It was definitely yours. She recognized it from the night before. Oh, you were nervous?

The elevator doors dinged, and you stepped off and rounded the corner. When she saw you, her heart almost exploded, and the sound of crunching could be heard across the room. Kara looked down and saw her computer mouse in pieces.

You were wearing a custom-made suit in Kara’s favorite color. The navy blue accentuated your skin tone flawlessly and you had your hair styled in a way that could make the straightest girls falter in their steps. Silver rings decorated your fingers, and a silver chain was wrapped around your neck in a light choker. You looked… holy Rao, you looked incredible.

“Hey, uhm…” You stopped at one of the desks nearby and looked down. “I’m looking for Kara Danvers?”

The blonde stood from her desk and walked a little too fast over to you, almost tripping to get to you along the way. “Hi! I’m so glad you could make it,” Kara looked you up and down, from your coat down to your dress shoes. “Wow, you look amazing!”

You blushed, a hand running through your hair. “Well, if you think I look good, you look amazing. Lavender is definitely your color, really brings out the blue in your eyes.”

Her entire face went red, and she had to look away for a second just to calm her heart down. For a second, she thought she was going to fly away and had to force her feet to stay on the ground. Why is it when you said things like that, it made her stomach twist?

“Kyra,” The Kryptonian heard Cat’s voice and turned around hard enough to whip you in the face with her ponytail. You made a face of disgust and peeled a piece of blonde hair from your glossed lips. “Do not crowd our star… Cat Grant, it is so nice to meet you.”

The smile that radiated from your face was enough to make Cat blush. “Oh, it’s an honor to meet you, Ms. Grant. I love the work you’ve done with Supergirl! Every time I read one of your stories, I’m starstruck with her all over again.”

Kara gaped for a split second. You liked Supergirl? Wait, your heart rate was rising again and she could hear all of the blood rushing to your face and down… You had a crush on Supergirl!?

“Understandably, all men and women adore her both as a hero and as an attractive woman,” Cat shrugged like it was obvious, stepping towards her office and beckoning for you to follow. You did, without hesitation, waving at Kara and stepping into the office where the interview of a lifetime would be taking place. Not for you, but for Kara specifically.

Almost immediately she sat down and began to listen to you with her super hearing.

“What happened last night? Well… there was a girl. She was being harassed at the bar by her date and I guess I had enough of seeing him take advantage of women to last me a lifetime. I reacted on instinct and protected the girl.”

“Cameras saw blood on your hands,” Cat said, looking down at the recorder on her desk. “Did you hit him?”

You hesitated for a second. Kara almost expected you to deny it.

“I did,” You said. “It was more instinct than thought, Ms. Grant. Fear of that girl being hurt set in, and I went on the offensive. I’ve seen the men who have my job do much worse, and they carry guns just like me.”

“But we are women,” Cat stated. “We are expected to keep calm in the face of terror and hold it together no matter how scary the world is. Speak up, but don’t be a bitch. Defend yourself, but don’t be aggressive. Protect each other, but don’t travel in groups.”

“I’ve never really been like other women,” You said without letting her fully finish. “I’m sure you can see that, Ms. Grant?”

Kara heard Cat hum, and she knew she was looking at you all over like she wanted to eat you alive. “Yes, your aesthetic is very butch, it’s not that hard to see how very non-heterosexual you are.”

A very odd silence carried within the walls of the office before you cleared your throat. “You have something you want to ask me, Ms. Grant.”

“Who was the girl you protected?”

Kara tensed up, and she felt for a second that you might actually tell her that she was there, and she wouldn’t be able to stop you even if she wanted to. But just like last night, you surprised her. “I don’t know her name, Ms. Grant. If you only wanted me to come in here to find out who I was fighting for, I’m going to have to disappoint you.”

Kara let out a breath of relief, dropping her shoulders and relaxing in her seat. She finally stopped listening to the conversation going on in the other room and about seven minutes later, you stepped outside of the interview and removed your phone from your pocket.

“How did it go?” Kara pounced on you. “Did you mention me? Did you say anything about what happened?”

Before Kara knew what was happening, you grabbed her by the arm gently and led her out onto the terrace to avoid prying eyes and unworthy ears. The Kryptonian looked so confused and somewhat shocked by your actions. “Was it that bad?”

“No, it was fine,” You defended. “I kept my promise and didn’t involve you in it.”

“Yeah, uhm… why are you doing that exactly?” Kara adjusted her glasses for almost the thirteenth time that day. You noticed she fussed with them when she was nervous or overwhelmed in some way. “I mean, I have no reason to hide or anything. I can take the heat from the interviews and things, and I mean, it was me that he tried to—”

“I know you can handle yourself, miss Kara. That isn’t what I’m afraid of,” You leaned back on the bar of the balcony and Kara watched the veins in your hands flex. “I’m afraid of the media treating you like some victim, which you wish to not be. The second I tell everybody that it was you he was after, you become the front of sympathy tabloids. I guess… I am trying to protect you, but in a different way.”

Kara took a few moments to truly process what you said and looked deep into your eyes. So deep that she almost x-rayed you. Her fingers flexed against the bar she was holding, and a soft, tense breath escaped her chest.

“Well, I can… take care of myself?” Kara stumbled on her words, and you simply chuckled. Before she could stop you, once again, you were reaching out.

“I see that,” You slowly ran your fingers under a stray lock of blonde hair and slowly tucked it behind her ear, your strong hands lingering against her skin and gently stroking your fingertips across her cheekbone and down to her jaw. Kara felt as if you stole her breath away. “And you… have the prettiest smile I have ever seen.”

“I…” Kara was beginning to shake, almost like she was vibrating in place. You smelled so nice, and you felt so cool against her warm Kryptonian skin. And in five seconds flat, Kara was gone out of your sight with a simple “I have to go!”

All you could do was frown at her running away, looking down at your hand and wishing her warmth was back against your calloused skin. You sighed and leaned back against the rail, rubbing at your face and attempting not to smear your eyeliner. “Sweet moments never last, I guess…”

You headed back inside and noticed that Kara was nowhere to be found. With a deep, disappointed sigh, you began walking towards the elevator with your hands tucked into your trouser pockets. Wherever the blonde went, she was doing a damn good job at avoiding you.

You texted her, making sure that you didn’t overstep in any way.

“I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable, sweetheart. It was never my intention. I hope you have a good rest of your day.”

Kara was staring at her phone screen for almost a full day. Every spare second that she had, she looked at the text you sent her, and her stomach began flipping all over again. She was so engrossed with how she would respond that even Alex was noticing. Her sister saw that she was simply staring at the screen, not typing or responding… she didn’t recognize your name.

“You plan on responding?” Alex teased, pausing the movie in front of them. Kara flinched, almost dropping her phone and looking over at her sister like she was just caught watching an R-Rated love scene. “Who is that?”

“N-No one! She’s nobody— n-not anybody,” Kara attempted to tuck away her cellphone, but Alex was faster, grabbing the device and reading what was on screen. “Wait, Alex, come on!”

“ ‘I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable, sweetheart.’? Who is calling you that?” Alex teased, looking at her sister and smirking as the blonde sighed and dropped her face into Alex’s leg.

“She’s just… the security guard from the bar the other night,” Kara admitted, her face burning the deepest shade of pink. For a second, Kara remembered how good you smelled and how chilled your skin was against her face, and it sent a very vicious shiver down her spine.

Alex noticed. “How’d you get the security guard’s phone number?”

“It’s a long story—”

“Well then start from the beginning?”

And so, Kara did. Kara told Alex everything that happened, not sparing a single detail and not leaving anything up in the air for guessing. She needed Alex to know every single detail and every single emotion that was passing through her in that moment.

“I don’t understand Alex,” Kara sighed, looking down at her hands. “It’s like I can’t think when I’m near her… Like my heart is about to leap from my chest and my hands feel like they’re vibrating! It was like that first time I was Supergirl… when I first saved the plane? That… adrenaline, that feeling of—”

“You like her.”

Kara had to stop her words, staring at her sister like she had just told her the biggest secret in the world. Her entire body started vibrating and Alex put her hands on Kara’s shoulders so the Kryptonian didn’t accidentally fly away. “I like her? What are you—”

“You acted just like this with every single crush you’ve had before, Kara,” Alex reassured. “And it’s okay… You are allowed to like this girl. She sounds great; I’d love to meet her someday.”

The blonde was silent for a good long while before she looked down at her phone and nearly threw it out of the window when she saw that you were calling her. The phone slammed on the coffee table and Kara jumped up, hiding from the device like it was a bomb about to explode.

“OhmyRao! Oh no, she’s calling— Alex, what do I do!?”

Alex rolled her eyes before she answered the phone, much to Kara’s horror. “Hello?”

You were so tense that the sound of another voice didn’t register. No, all you wanted was to talk to Kara and explain yourself so you couldn’t drive her away or scare her off.

“Kara! Hi,” You didn’t expect her to answer. “I uhm… Sorry for calling you so late and unexpected, I just… I don’t know, I need to explain myself? I’m sorry about today, and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable this afternoon. I don’t know what came over me.”

Alex smirked as she held her foot out, pressing it into Kara’s chest. Kara could stop her if she wanted to, but a part of her wanted to hear you out on this. Without interrupting you.

When Kara didn’t respond, you feared that she may have hung up on you. But against your better judgment, you started talking again. “I feel like I got the wrong impression from you. So, this may sound absolutely insane but… If you are willing, I would like to have dinner with you? Tomorrow night?”

The silence was almost deafening. Kara looked at Alex and the blonde seemed like she was about to throw up or pass out, maybe even both. Alex grinned from ear to ear and decided to respond for her, much to Kara’s complete and utter torture. “Tomorrow night sounds amazing.”

Kara could hear you sigh a breath of relief, almost like you had been holding it waiting for her answer. “Oh great! Great, uh… I will text you all of the details then? 7:30?”

“7:30, I will be there,” Alex chuckled and looked at Kara who looked like she was about to start screaming. “Goodnight… Sweetheart.”

When Alex hung up, Kara immediately dropped down behind the couch and curled into the fetal position like she wanted to do nothing but vanish into the floor and scream until her breath ran out. The DEO agent started cackling and tossed the phone over to Kara, laughing even harder when the device smacked her in the head.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

You had spent the entire day pacing in your loft, looking at all of the clothes inside your closet and trying so hard to decide on something to wear like your life was on the line. All you wanted to do was impress this girl and show her the best time of her entire life. Kara was unlike anyone you’ve known… and you wanted to know even more.

Deciding to keep things semi-formal, you chose a black long-sleeved turtleneck with a delicate silver chain and gray trench coat. The black boots completed the look, and you tried very hard to not overthink things as you stepped out of your apartment, only to stop and gently pet your orange tabby cat on the head. “Stay put, Tigger. Love you.”

You triple-checked the address on your phone, standing outside of the restaurant that you and Kara picked out together. Asian was your idea and Kara leaped at the opportunity. You tried not to fumble with the box inside your jacket pocket, biting down on your lip and doing your best to calm your beating heart.

It had been years since your last date… work had always got in the way, and you tended to scare off a lot of “candidates”. Your hands were shaking, and you wanted to kick at the wall but then you’d look semi-psychotic.

Of course, your train of thought was completely derailed when you looked up in time to see the most beautiful thing you’ve seen in your entire life…

Kara Danvers, wearing a lavender dress with a white cardigan overtop, the skirt reaching just above her knees, matched with white heels. Her hair was held back with a ribbon braided into her blonde locks, complete with those turtle shell glasses that you thought were so cute on her that it made your heart flutter.

How did you get this lucky to be out with her?

“Hi!” You chirped, stomach tightening as you looked at the most gorgeous female that’s been in your vision. “Uh… wow, you look beautiful, Kara.”

“Thank you,” Kara blushed, looking down at her heels for a brief moment and biting her lip. “And you look… I don’t even have the words for it!”

Now it was your turn to blush, heart fluttering as you gently twist your fingers together. Kara noticed the bandages on your knuckle, but it seemed underplayed by all of the rings on your fingers. This was the first time in a long time that Kara had been on a date, and she actually had hopes for this one. All of the other ones? They were a huge letdown.

Kara was now keeping score in her head. What she didn’t expect was for you to open the door for her. Wow… one point for you!

“Ladies first,” You held out your hand for her and she could tell that you were more charming and polite than any man she has been out with in her entire life.

The hostess led you both to the table in the very quiet restaurant that had live music playing softly nearby. The dining area was dimly lit, and the only light was from a very soft glow of the light above the table. Kara was about to approach her seat when you jumped forward and pulled the chair out for her, smiling and gently pushing it in once she was sat down.

“Well, you certainly know how to make a girl feel special,” Kara chuckled, sitting down and removing the cloth napkin from the plate and laying it over her lap.

You stripped off your jacket and draped it over the back of your chair, sitting down across from her and folding your hands overtop the table in front of her. “I find it hard to believe that you are treated any less when you go on dates.”

Kara chuckled, shrugging her shoulders. “Yeah… the dates I’ve been on? Not exactly anything to write home about.”

You make a face of complete horror, doing a remarkable impression of a fish out of water. Kara simply took a sip of water to try and break the tension, but you weren’t breaking eye contact. Maybe you wanted her to explain?

“Okay, most of the guys I’ve been with? They are too focused on their phones… and they ditch me after twenty minutes at most,” Kara sighed, adjusting her glasses. “Maybe I’m just not that interesting?”

You sat back a little, rubbing a hand across your jaw and sighing deep in your chest.

“Kara Danvers,” You reached out for her hand, and she blushed at how cold it was. “You have not been treated like the lady you have deserved… it will be an honor to show you a time that you won’t ever forget.”

A single moment passed as Kara smiled and leaned forward, almost challenging you. “I’m keeping score.”

Challenge accepted.

The night was absolutely perfect. Kara had literally never felt more heard in her entire life. At one point during the evening, Kara heard your phone chirp, and you removed it from your pocket. Kara was about to deduct a point for that, but you immediately turned it off and put it face down on the table, apologizing for the interruption.

Surprise was all over her face as you simply cut off all communications with everybody just to listen to her silly story about something that happened at CatCo. And you were hanging on literally every single word she uttered and every syllable that tumbled from her lips.

You had ordered a beautiful bottle of wine to go with the food she ordered, which consisted of pork potstickers, crab fried rice, and a beautiful plate of scorpion roll sushi. You didn’t even bat an eye as you listened to every single word she said and when she would ask you questions, you were happy to answer with honesty.

“-After the army, I was just feeling a bit lost,” You admitted, pausing to take a sip of the wine and leaning back in your chair. Kara leaned forward, almost like she wasn’t close enough to hear you. But in reality, it was so quiet that it was easy to feel like you two were the only ones in the entire universe. “I bounced around from place to place, looking for a job where I felt like I was making a difference. And don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with working retail… but the night life called to me? The club reached out to me, and it was easy for me to be security.”

“Ex-military,” Kara smiled. “No wonder you’re so strong…”

“Well, I do work out every day,” You shrugged like it was no big deal, but in reality, you were flexing and trying to impress her. Kara giggled at seeing you put your hands behind your head and leaned back in her chair herself, allowing a moment for her dinner to settle.

The moment was comfortable as the music played inside of your own little world you two created together. “This is actually really nice…”

You smiled. “I promised a night to remember,” You glanced up at the musicians and then at Kara. “Would you like to dance with me?”

“Here?” Kara giggled, eyes wrinkling with humor as you stood up from your seat and held out your hand. “In the middle of the restaurant?”

All you did was keep your hand out for her and Kara thought about it for a few seconds before deciding screw it and placed her hand into yours. The cold of your rings bit into her warm skin as you lifted her from the seat and placed a gentle hand on her waist. When Kara’s hand met your shoulder, you two began swaying gently back and forth to the soft music inside of the restaurant… It really felt like it was just the two of you in the entire universe.

Kara felt so warm against you… So gentle and so sweet, almost like she was an angel in your presence. You couldn’t help it. Very slowly, you leaned your head down and rested your cheek against the top of her blonde hair, breathing her in like this was going to be the last time you ever got to feel her against you.

Kara bit down on her lip and pressed her face into your chest, feeling the soft swell of your breasts against her face and realizing that she didn’t hate the feeling… In fact, you felt comfortable and cool and all of the things that she loved in the world. But the best part? From here, she couldn’t just hear your heartbeat… she could feel it.

“Your heart is racing,” She whispered against you. Almost comically, your hands began trembling as you slid one through her soft blonde hair and twisted it in between your fingers.

Kara could feel it. You were terrified. “I… Don’t want to mess this up,” You pulled back slowly and looked down to gaze into those beautiful blue eyes. “How’s my score?”

The Kryptonian smiled, her eyes twinkling. “One final test for you?”

“Name it,” You begged.

Kara smiled, hypnotizing you with those pretty glossed lips of hers. “I would rather show you.”

The blonde slid one hand up to the back of your neck and then you felt those warm fingers through your hair. Oh, she was so beautiful, and she felt so perfect in your arms, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss her… but you weren’t going to move until she did. Kara needed to do this first.

She inched closer and closer, and you could feel her breath against your face. It was almost chilled… You waited patiently, hoping she would continue—

The entire restaurant trembled around you both and on instinct, you grabbed at Kara’s waist, preventing her from falling over. The pounding in your chest went haywire as you looked out of the window and saw the street was literally on fire! “What the hell—”

Patrons in the restaurant went crazy and began to run for the exits. But in doing so, you couldn’t have held onto her even if you tried. “Kara? Kara!” You called out her name, fear rising at the idea of losing her within the crowd of terror as patrons shoved you outside and into the streets that were blazing alive.

Standing on the street now, you could only look on in abstract horror as a blue-skinned, horned face alien was breathing literal fire and setting the streets ablaze. You took the smallest step backward and realized that was your mistake. The alien sent a very powerful blast in your direction, and you went from your feet to the air.

The blast lifted you from the ground and your entire body slammed into the windshield of a truck, glass shattering all around you and slicing your sweater and into your skin. You would no doubt need stitches now.

The impact didn’t knock you out, but it made you slightly dizzy as you crawled off the remains of the truck and stumbled against the concrete, bracing yourself against the hood and rubbing at your forehead. “Fuck…” You only had one thing on your mind… “Kara, where are you?”

Another blast was about to hit, and you had no time to brace for impact. The alien seemed to hate you for some reason because he kept targeting where you were standing. You slowly stepped back and your body pressed into the steel of the truck, waiting for the next hit. You crouched down and attempted to shield yourself… but it never arrived.

You looked up and let out a surprised gasp at seeing the red cape in front of you, and beautiful blonde hair that flowed down in waves down her back. It was unmistakable who it was. “S-Supergirl!”

The hero turned to look at you, smiling a little but the grin dropped as soon as she saw the blood seeping into your clothing. “You’re hurt—”

“I’m okay,” You said, trying not to look weak in front of the Kryptonian. Your heart pounded in your chest as you began to look around even more frantically, desperate to find your date in the sea of terrified residents of National City. “Where is she? God, please—”

“Kara Danvers sent me,” Supergirl placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. Your eyes widened in surprise at her statement. Kara sent her? “She’s in a safe place… I hear you are ex-military. Can you help me clear these streets?”

Supergirl was asking for your help? Suddenly the wounds in your skin seemed so minor as you stood up and paid attention to the superhero that began to rise from the ground and look as regal as inhumanly possible. She really was incredible… “You can count on me, Supergirl.”

“Ms. Danvers speaks highly of you,” Supergirl said and bolted away.

You immediately jumped into action and began to direct people away from the threat of the alien terrorizing the city. You helped them down into the subway stations to avoid the dangers of the fire and the battle between whatever that creature was and Supergirl herself. But the more you moved and the faster your heart raced, the more your wounds began catching up with you.

Blood was dripping from your sweater and onto the stone steps of the subway. Sweat dripped from your forehead and you nearly stumbled down the stairs and onto the concrete below you.

“Hey, hey,” The new voice resonated in front of you and all you could do was look up and see a woman with short brown hair and a soft look, almost like she knew you. She was dressed in all black and had a gun on her hip. “Eyes on me? Are you okay?”

When you didn’t respond, could only blink slowly, the woman was getting concerned with your state of health. You very faintly heard her say “Can you hear me?” but then you could only reach for the railing before falling to the concrete stairs.

The horrible sensation of needles pressing into your skin woke you up from the deep unconscious state you were in. It reminded you of the tattoo on your upper back and you just couldn’t stop yourself from hissing in pain and flinching at the stab.

“Ow,” You twitched, opening your eyes and immediately wanting to close them with how bright the lights were. But something was off… This did not smell like some hospital? Isn’t that usually where someone ends up when they hit the windshield of a truck?

“Try not to move,” A voice said from above you. It was the woman from the alley… for some reason, now her voice was recognizable but not when she was impersonating Kara on the phone. The pain of the needle resonated in your back again and you grabbed the table with both hands to force your body to sit completely still.

“Where am I? What is this?”

“Can’t tell you that,” She said. “Just know that it’s somewhere safe. What do you remember?”

“Uh… I remember an ugly-ass alien setting the streets on fire? And then I hit a truck and I was looking for—” The needle in her hands went directly into your shoulder as you jumped upward and almost fell off the table. A tube was in your arm, and you saw a slow stream of blood flooding into your veins. “Kara! Fuck, where’s Kara? Where is she?”

“Hey, hey!” The woman from the subway jumped up and held out her hands that were gloved but covered in your blood. You were frantic, looking around the room like a terrified bird in a cage too small for it to be considered humane. “Hey, you need to calm down. You lost a lot of blood and—”

“I’m not—” You ripped the tube from your arm and the blood splattered to the floor as you began to run at the glass, not fully realizing you were in just your black skin-tight boxers, sports bra, and dog tags hanging from a chain around your neck. Everything else had been torn and drenched in your blood. “No, I… I gotta get out of here, I need to find Kara! Kara Danvers! We… we went out together tonight! I have to go- I need to know that she’s okay!”

“Okay, okay! Calm down, please, relax…” The woman grabbed your forearms and you breathed hard enough to start hyperventilating. Very slowly, she led you back over to the bench and removed the needle from your shoulder. “Look… my name is Alex Danvers. Kara is my sister, okay? And I can promise you that she is fine.”

Your brain skipped like a needle on a record, blanking out for a few painful seconds and trying to make sense of it all. What are the odds that Kara’s sister is the one stitching you up right now in some secret medlab? “A-Alex, like the… special agent Alex that she talked about?”

The woman smirked a little. “Yeah… and you’re the ex-military nightclub guard that she can’t shut up about?”

You simply rolled your eyes and tried to stay upright. Blood loss was definitely getting to you again and you placed both hands on the gurney underneath you. “C-Can’t shut up about me? It’s only been a day.”

Alex was quiet after that as she continued your stitches, meticulously closing you up and removing a piece of glass from your skin in the process. You were so engrossed in the procedure that the soft swishing of the door was almost missed. “How is she?”

You looked up and your cheeks turned a deep pink. It was Supergirl… and she was standing there like the typical hero she was, hands crossed over her chest and looking at you with the most intense blue eyes you’ve ever seen… well, the second most intense blue eyes you’ve seen. Thoughts of Kara surfaced, and you felt nervous all over again.

“All things considered, she’s doing okay,” Alex said, placing a gauze patch over your final stitches and removing her gloves. You sighed and leaned back to sit up straight, rolling your shoulders and attempting to relax. “Just try to calm down and relax, you’ve been through a lot today.”

You nodded and attempted to not look embarrassed at being almost half naked in front of National City’s hero, heart thumping at high speed and your fingers twitching like absolute crazy. “Agent Danvers… I know that this will sound dumb, but can I talk with Supergirl? Alone?”

“That’s not a possib—”

“It’s okay, Alex,” Supergirl held out a hand, attempting to calm the agent. You blushed and began to chew on your thumbnail waiting for Alex to leave the room and stand on the other side of the door. When it slid closed behind her, but she stayed within sight of the glass room, you met Supergirl’s eyes who moved both fists to her hips in the classic hero pose. “What’s wrong?”

“You know, it's funny- I keep playing the… the way we met in my head?” You stood up from the bench and rubbed the back of your neck to try and relax your sore muscles. “And there’s just one thing that doesn’t really make sense.”

“You were in danger, I saved you,” Supergirl stated in a nonchalant way. But she looked slightly twitchy.

“Not that,” You approached Supergirl, noticing that you were slightly over her in height… Just like her. “You said Kara mentioned I was ex-military… I didn’t see her texting during dinner, and she didn’t have any time to tell you about that before the attack.”

“What are you—” You gave the Kryptonian a look and tilted your head.

“You look just like her… Even without the glasses, your eyes are the same. And you…” You reached out and the hero didn’t know better, and you were able to touch her skin before she stepped away. “Are just as warm as she is.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know that it’s you, Kara,” You stated, much to the woman’s shock. “You vanish and then Supergirl shows up? Supergirl tells me something that only you found out ten minutes before? Your sister shows up at the most convenient time to save my ass from bleeding out on the stairs?” You stepped forward, and the super stepped back, spine hitting the wall behind her. “You can’t fool me…”

“You are… just delusional from the blood loss. I’m not Kara Danvers, I don’t—”

Your hand reached out and pressed against Supergirl’s cheek, stopping her words in their tracks as you breathed slowly and stepped infinitely closer. She was so warm and so beautiful, and you knew it was her, but she was so in denial. You knew it was to keep herself safe, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

“If you aren’t my sweet Kara,” You sighed, watching Supergirl’s bottom lip tremble. “Then that means I can’t kiss you…”

Supergirl breathed. “Th-That’s right…”

“But if you are,” You leaned closer, heart racing in your chest. “I still have one point to gain for the best date ever.”

A moment of silence passed between both of you, and Supergirl breathed hard against your face. You felt her cold air again, and now knew it was from her ice-breath. “Final test…”

In seconds, you dipped down and captured her lips in the most intense kiss of your entire life. Supergirl—Kara wrapped both arms around your neck and held you close, her strength now showing from her Kryptonian powers as you placed both hands on her waist and pulled her as close as humanly possible.

The moment was so intense and full of heat between you two that the noise you made when Kara jumped up, wrapping both legs around your hips made you stumble backward and hit the steel wall behind you. A hiss of pain left your lips as you felt your torn skin strain on the stitches. “Fuck, fuck, shit, wait…”

Kara jumped off of you, gasping and realizing that her strength was too much for you. She stepped backward and you turned around, glancing at your back and trying to see if you had accidentally burst any of the stitches. “Okay… okay, I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

The hero looked at you and you could see tears brimming in her eyes as she reached forward and gently placed both hands against your cheeks. “I’m so sorry… I’m so, so sorry I left you! I wasn’t fast enough, and you got hurt and you—”

“Hey, hey, hey no, none of that!” You said, grabbing Kara’s hands and gently rubbing your thumbs across the veins in her hands. Kara whimpered, tears tracking her face. “No, you saved me Kara… You did everything you could and from where I’m standing, you saved everybody, not just me… I would’ve been dead had you not shown up.”

Kara giggled, sniffling through tears. “Heh… guess I owed you from the other night, huh?”

“Yeah… Guess you did,” You brushed her blonde hair away from her face and kissed the space between her eyes, right over the small crease in her brow line. “People are gonna get hurt, Kara… I’m not immortal. I know how dangerous this world is. But I’m strong. I went through war and still came back. I can take a few stitches. Don’t you worry about me.”

“I will always worry about you—”

“And I’ll respect that. But only if I can worry about you… I must protect what is mine.”

“Y-Yours?” Kara blushed from the tips of her ears down to her neck. “Wh-What are you?”

“Be mine, Kara Danvers… Supergirl, I’m asking you to be my girlfriend.”

Your answer was another desperate, fiery kiss. And for a moment, both of you felt like you were flying… But when the kiss broke, you saw that Kara had accidentally lifted you both off the ground. 

[darlingdesire]

LIKE A TATTOO

Y/N really loves Harry’s tattoos.

Y/N loved the way Harry’s tattoos looked on his skin. They were like little pieces of art, each one telling a story or holding a special meaning. But what she loved even more was tracing the lines of each tattoo with her fingers, feeling the ink on his skin and the ridges of the designs.

It was a habit she had developed early on in their relationship, and one that Harry had grown to love. They would often lay in bed together, tangled up in the sheets, and Y/N would trace the lines of his tattoos while they talked about their day or whispered sweet nothings to each other.

As they drifted off to sleep, Y/N would often continue tracing the tattoos, her touch becoming softer and more gentle as she grew more and more relaxed. Harry would wrap his arms around her, pulling her closer to him, and they would both drift off into a peaceful slumber, feeling the warmth and comfort of each other's love.

Usually, Harry would close his eyes and let out a contented sigh, feeling the warmth of Y/N's touch on his skin. He loved the way she traced the lines so delicately, like she was afraid to smudge the ink or damage the design. He loved the way her fingers felt against his skin, soft and gentle yet confident in their movements.

Sometimes Y/N would inspect the tattoos more closely, asking Harry about the meanings behind each one. He would tell her stories about the time he got them or what they represented to him. It was a way for them to get to know each other even better, and for Y/N to understand the parts of Harry’s past that he had immortalized on his skin.

Other times, Y/N would trace the tattoos out of boredom or absentmindedness. But even then, Harry didn't mind. He would just lay there and watch her, feeling the love and affection radiating off of her. It was a comforting feeling, knowing that she loved him enough to memorize every little bit of him, even the fine lines of his tattoos that were unnoticeable from the faraway eye.

Y/N was lying on the bed next to Harry, her head resting on his chest as she traced the lines of one of his tattoos with her finger. She looked up at him with a curious expression.

"Did this one hurt when you got it?" she asked, gesturing to the tattoo she was inspecting.

Harry smiled down at her, his fingers delicately playing with her soft hair. "Not too bad," he said. "But it was definitely one of the longer sessions."

Y/N smiled back at him. "Which one hurt the most?" she asked.

Harry thought for a moment before answering. "Probably the one on my chest," he said. "It felt like the needle was going right through to my heart."

Y/N winced in sympathy. "That sounds painful," she said.

"It was," Harry replied. "But it was worth it. All of my tattoos are reminders of something important to me."

Y/N nodded and continued to trace the tattoo on his arm. Harry watched her with a fond expression, admiring the way her eyes studied each line and curve of his tattoo. "I've always wondered what it would feel like to get a tattoo there," she said.

Harry chuckled. "It's not for everyone," he said. "But I love it."

"I can tell," Y/N said, her eyes still focused on the tattoo. "You have so many."

Harry smiled. "Yeah, I do," he said. "But each one has its own story. They're like little pieces of me that I carry around with me."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes softening. "I love that about you," she said. "You're so... unique."

Harry gazed down at her, his eyes filled with adoration. "And you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he said, his hand cupping her cheek.

"I love the way you look at my tattoos," he said softly. "It's like you're seeing a part of me that no one else can truly see."

Y/N smiled and looked up at him. "That's because I love every part of you," she said, her voice filled with tenderness, “I especially love your tattoos," Y/N said softly.

Harry grinned, his eyes sparkling. "I know you do," he said. "You always find new ones to admire."

Y/N grinned, continuing to trace the lines of his tattoos. "As you said; they’re like little works of art," she said. "And they all have a story."

Hary nodded, his fingers playing with Y/N's hair. "Yeah, each one has a special meaning to me," he said. "They're like a visual representation of who I am."

Y/N snuggled closer to Harry, feeling his warmth surround her. "I love getting to know more about you," she said. "And your tattoos are like little clues that help me do that."

Harry smiled down at her, his eyes filled with affection. "You're the only person who can read me like a book," he said.

Y/N blushed, feeling a rush of love for Harry. She traced the lines of his tattoos once more before resting her head back on his chest. They lay there in comfortable silence, the only sound the steady beat of Harry’s heart.

With a contented sigh, Y/N closed her eyes and let herself relax into him, feeling safe and content in his arms, all while gently skimming her finger over the delicate lines that created her name which were marked into Harry’s soft skin in black ink.

[captainpains]

Wedding Vows (Wrecker x reader)

For @autistic-artistech in the @cloneficgiftexchange. I had so much fun writing this and it helped me with my writers block. I hope you enjo💕💕

Prompt: I can’t believe this is happening

Warnings: fem reader, making shit up about wedding traditions, FLUFF, established relationship, Wrecker being adorable

~

You took a deep breath as you nervously pulled at your dress. You honestly never thought that you’d end up here, in a beautiful dress with a bouquet.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” you breathed as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You met the bad batch at the start of the war, when you were assigned as their team medic. You didn’t know that Wrecker would become so dear to you.

“Wow! You’re short!” The first words Wrecker said to you.

“Wow! You’re tall. I think everyone is short to you.” You replied, somewhat sarcastically, looking up at him.

Wrecker gave a hearty laugh, “I like this one!”

It was an odd way to start a job – or a friendship – but you really did like working with the batch. They were chaotic but (despite what they seem to think) reliably predictable. It was a weird dynamic that provided a bit of stability in such an uncertain time. Hunter was a very stoic and good leader. Tech was really smart, if a little arrogant and emotionally unavailable. Crosshair was terrifying but his sarcasm made him slightly less so. And Wrecker was very loud, but kind and sweet to you. He was the first one to accept you as a part of the batch. It probably helped that Wrecker was the one who needed the most regular medical attention. 

“Ya know I don’t think I need the bacta shot after all.” Wrecker nervously bargained as he eyed the needle in your hand.

“Oh, well the fact you’ve been moaning about how much pain you’re in is definitely not a reason to give you some bacta.” You sarcastically said, but you placed a hand on his large shoulder to help ground him. “And breathe in…”

You were always especially gentle when caring for Wrecker. None of the batch liked getting any medical attention, and you were weary of it. But if the others noticed that you gave Wrecker extra special attention, they never mentioned it.

You don’t quite know when your feelings towards Wrecker started to become amorous. Maybe it was when he started to talk to you more about topics not related to the missions. Or maybe it was when he started to sit much closer to you.

Or more likely it was when he’d defended you in the midst of a battle gone wrong.

“You really have to be more careful,” you scolded as you cleaned one of his wounds.

“But, I don’t want you to get hurt…” He mumbled, looking at his hands on the edge of his knees.

You stopped what you were doing and looked at him. He had a solemn look on his face that you’d seen him have before. You grabbed one of his hands, causing him to look at you.

“And I’m thankful for that…” You said, sincerely. 

Wrecker engulfed you in a hug. You gave a small smile and hugged him back. He placed his head on your shoulder. He took a few deep breaths before letting you go.

You continued to smile as you worked on wrapping one the wound on his arm. Wrecker was affectionate with you but this time it felt different. More meaningful. 

When you finally confessed your feelings for one another, it was in a very unconventional way. At the end of a mission, Wrecker had blown up a pirate hideout. You still had no idea how, but he managed to make the smoke from the explosion spell out your name. It was probably the sweetest and most Wrecker thing he could’ve done.

That one date obviously turned into many, many more. And when

A knock on the door brought you out of your thoughts.

“Hey…” Hunter said as he opened the door. “It’s time. Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” You gave a nervous laugh.

Hunter nodded and offered his elbow. You placed your arm through his and walked together towards the balcony where the ceremony was taking place.

“You seemed a little out of it.”

“I was just thinking, is all.”

“Having second thoughts?”

“Never.”

You reached the top of the aisle and Hunter moved away from you, walking on the otherside of the chairs to stand next to Wrecker at the altar.

You took a deep breath and started to walk down the aisle. Wrecker stood at the end with a large smile, in his freshly painted armor. He didn’t consider himself a mandalorian, at least not as much as Hunter did, but that tradition he wanted to honor. 

When you reached the end of the aisle, you handed the bouquet to Omega and placed your hands in his. 

Shep was standing in the middle of the arch you two were under, ready to officiate the wedding.

“And we will begin…”

You smiled at your groom and he gave a large grin back. 

“We have gathered here today to join two souls together. Fate and love will now entwine these two forever more. And we celebrate their union and honor them as they deserve. Now for the vows. Both the bride and groom have decided to say their own vows.”

He gave a nod to Wrecker, the sign for him to start talking.

“I want to start by sayin’ thank you for helping my family. You are the best medic that we could’ve asked for. I’ve known since I first met ya that you were an amazing person, but you’re more than that. You are the kindest and funniest person that I’ve ever met. You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen, and I am excited to wake up with you everyday. I promise to love and care for you. I promise to be your friend and partner until the day I die.

“Wrecker, I love you more than anything, And would not trade this life for anything. I love your laugh and your smile. You are one of the best people I have ever met, and I promise to love and care for you, for the rest of our lives.”

“You may now kiss the bride.”

You ecstatically threw your arms around your husband and happily kissed him. Wrecker wrapped his hands around your waist and lifted you up into the air. You broke the kiss to squeal.

The attendees laughed. Wrecker put you down.

“Now it’s time to party!”

[marivoid]

Entry 31

Day 223

This is him. One of the only people that can help me find The Doctor. The Heavy-Body Builder.

One problem: The man is the definition of "Looks scary, is a wet cat of a man." He definitely TRIED to be intimidating, but he failed pretty miserably at it when I met him after being unconscious for 10 days.

(Yes I did a double take. I still can't believe I was out for THAT long)

Picture this: Me walking towards a towering city of collapsing buildings with dust filled air. Eyes focused on the small blinks of light that just barely escape the smog- I'm thinking that I've finally made it! Comparator City!

And then I get absolutely BODIED by a huge hunk of metal. I wish I were kidding. My poor spine! My arm! It got freaking CRUSHED! I was sent flying a decent few feet and ended up crashing into an old light pole (Again. OW.) All that I can remember happening next is that same hunk of metal approaching me and some guy jumping out of it. But then... Well. I was out like a light.

Managed to wake up (after what felt like) a few hours later and oh GOODNESS did it hurt. My back, my right side, my stump of an arm- It all hurt! But there was somebody in the very dim room with me. The same person that crawled out of that hunk of metal.

"Thank goodness you're awake!" He had said when I first gained consciousness. "I was worried that you wouldn't stabilize! You've been unconscious for over a week!"

"I've been WHAT?!" And of course, when I sat up I saw the damage the man had done to me. Machines were strapped all over my body, an IV drip sticking out of my arm (Where he found a clean needle I will not ask.) a whole heart rate monitor- He was stacked! But from the state of everything, he was telling me the truth. "You knocked me unconscious for a week?!"

"Well it's r-really been ten days-"

"TEN DAYS?!"

"Yes- Yes I know it sounds absolutely horrible but! But! You're recovering at an accelerated rate! You should be good to go in a few days? Maybe three? The experimental drug is working great for you!" He had been blabbering and talking so fast that I nearly missed that detail.

"Experimental- I'm sorry, EXPERIMENTAL DRUG?" Of course I had been outraged back then. (Even looking back now I'm still a bit ticked off at being used as a guinea pig for a drug that could have killed me, but hey! I'm alive now!) "You used an EXPERIMENTAL DRUG to heal me."

"Yes! And it worked!" He stepped away from me to grab my prosthetic arm. "And! And I managed to upgrade your arm! It got destroyed- Again I'm so sorry about that- but hey! At least now your map and compass aren't an extra item to carry around!"

"So you fixed the nerve sensors? The solar panels?"

"Uh- No. Unfortunately I don't have access to the receptors or the proper solar panels you need." He had explained while reattaching my arm. "But! But, it works a lot like mine!" He flashed his brass arm, glowing a soft red. "It's powered by redstone! Should last you a solid month before you need to recharge it!"

And there was the main problem. "How in the ever loving hell do I get this 'redstone' stuff? Heck, where could I even get it?"

"Easy! Me!" He flicked on a lever on the backside of my arm and it felt... Nice at the time. Sturdy. Like it wouldn't die on me when I needed it most. "I use the Parrot System, so as long as you can get mail through the Parrots you should be good!"

"... The who?"

You wouldn't believe me if I told you this man began to glow with embarrassment. I mean he LITERALLY glowed. Pointy ears and face turning a bright red that GLOWED.

"Right, uh- The parrots! They're one of the middle tier delivery birds! I'm friends with their Flight Master! I... I take it you have no idea who I'm talking about."

"Not a damn clue."

"First of all, watch your tongue. Second! That's okay! I should have enough in store that should last you about three months- But you really need to find the Flight Masters. They'll help you in the long run."

When he stopped his rambling I focused on the newly upgraded arm. It is always a weird sensation, flexing a limb that's not really there. But the small tug of metal fingers and steel plates listening to one's mind is even weirder. And I mean REALLY weird.

"Who... Exactly are these Flight Masters?" I managed to ask him after a few moments of silence. "How do you... Get under their wing?"

"That-" The man paused and the red glow only grew. "That was a horrible pun-" He has a really nice laugh. Small but breathless.

"But it works! I mean, they have to be Birds of a Feather to Fly together-"

"Stop! Stop, no!"

"When am I going to stop, huh?! Never!" And then I started to laugh. I think it was just my mind needing something to focus on other than the glaring new arm attached to my body.

"Goodness you may be worse than Gri-" His laughter died when he barely mentioned a name. I couldn't get all of it, but it must be the Flight Master.

"Worse than...?"

"Y-You will find out eventually." His tune changed from that point going forward.

He eventually gave me his name (Mumbo) and gave me a quick summary of the three Flight Masters.

The Canary: Flight Master of the small, yellow birds that linger around Comparator City. Used by the residents of said city. Apparently the easiest one to befriend.

The Parrot: Flight Master of the robotic parrots that fly around all over the Crashlands. They're more tricky to get a hold of as they have a whole database on who's a customer and who's not. Need to find the Parrot Flight Master in order to get on the list.

The Crow: Flight Master of the Murders. Every crow I have seen so far apparently belongs to Him. And apparently the only way to find him is a mystery to even Mumbo. All I can do is hope for the best with that one.

That was all the information he was willing to tell me. Apparently I struck a nerve by getting him to almost spill the name of the Parrot Flight Master. I'm still resting in this small room, letting myself recover from being plowed by that big old machine.

I even tried asking him what that THING was that he hit me with! But he just shook his head and said it was a prototype I shouldn't bother myself with.

Things are just getting really overwhelming now. So much information to process. How do I find the Canary? Or hell, the Parrot? I'm not even going to TOUCH the subject of the Crow. What about the Demon? Is he still around? Is he in Comparator City? Will I run out of the weird redstone dust before I find the Parrot?

So many questions.

Too little answers.

I think I'm just going to shut off my mind for a little bit.

MLW

G.U.I.D.E. 67

[hiskillingjar]

just a doll on a string

Relationship: Ren Hana/Reader, Fox/Reader Rating: Explicit Contains: Vaginal Sex, Intercrural Sex, Drugging, Dollification, Blood, Light Bondage, Vomit Mention Length: 2300+ words

a very kind request from @woofykill, thank you so much, angel!

my fic commissions are open, so if you want a fic of your own, enquire within!

"Huaah..."

You let out an unsteady moan as the sharp needle slid out of your arm, a bead of blood oozing out of the pinprick in your skin.

You didn’t know the name of the drug now pumping through your system, but you knew that it was probably (definitely) the reason you were immediately feeling dazed and confused, and your brain was feeling hot.

Unable to think of words to say (would you even have any, if you could?), your heavily made-up eyes, skin coated, painted with smeared eyeliner and black kohl, peered up towards Fox as he set the empty syringe down on his desk and approached you slowly, the heels of his shoes tapping metallic *clangs* on the filming room floor.

"There we go, that's it," Fox crooned, his voice low and horribly comforting as he swept a hand through your dark hair and urged your hazy eyes upwards, the handsome crease at the corner of his own crinkling with fondness and lust. "That's a good girl. You’re responding perfectly, darling. It feels good, doesn't it? I made sure that it would…"

"Mm," You moaned softly, keening up to his touch and pulling at your handcuffs (the same that bound your ankles together underneath your thighs). They were the soft ones, pink leather with padded, lined interiors. They were there to restrain you, to keep you still, not to hurt you. "You...ahh, you didn't need to…to drug me..."

"Ah, but I wanted to, sweetheart," He replied with a sharp titter (his practised laugh, the laugh of a showman), his clawed fingers idly tracing down your heavily blushed cheeks and over your full lips. "It's just so nice seeing you so docile for me...so dreamy, so lost...like I could do anything I wanted to you and you wouldn’t have the energy to stop me. It's really too adorable. How could I possibly stop myself?"

Your lips parted obediently (mechanically, like you didn’t have control over the gesture) for his fingers and, satisfied that you had done what he wanted, he pressed them down against your pierced tongue. His golden eyes were practically gleaming as you drooled messily down them, down his palm, down his wrist, letting saliva and spittle cover your lips, your chin, pool down and soak into the front of your white top.

"Look at you," He murmured, his voice thick with something akin to awe and lust in tandem. "So messy, my girl...I'm really going to have to get that fixed, aren't I?"

You gurgled helplessly as he pressed his fingers deeper down your throat, your dark eyes rolling back in your skull at the feeling of his sharp claws raking over your tongue and the delicate walls of your windpipe.

For whatever reason, though, the painful sensations that you should have been feeling, were expecting, were replaced by nothing more than hazy pleasure, and you could already feel cool wetness begin to soak into your panties as you gagged and spluttered around his fingers even more.

If you had the mind to, you might have felt ashamed that he had subdued you so easily, so carelessly. 

But your mind was far away now, and all you could think about was the daze of pleasure you were currently floating on.

"Yes, you're getting it now, aren't you?" Fox then added, settling down on one knee in front of you, his free hand reaching up to idly grope at your chest, fingers tracing over the semi-transparent spots where your drool was soaking in the worst, making the thin material stick to your skin and sheen through white. "You're...familiar with this drug, aren't you, sweetheart? You missed it..."

"Upfff..." You groaned, trying to press your teeth together as he forced his fingers deeper, almost deep enough to make you retch and gag.

And yet, it still felt...so good.

Mind-meltingly good, even, good enough that you had to press your thighs together to stop your cunt from throbbing so much.

"You know, if pain is making you this wet," He annunciates his point by forcing your legs apart again and pressing his knee against the wet fold of your cunt, relishing in the high whimper you let out as soon as he did so. "Imagine how good true pleasure would feel, how good it would feel to take my cock inside of you...you might just lose your mind, hm?"

Without warning, he then drew his fingers back roughly, hard enough to immediately trigger your gag reflex and force a small amount of stringy vomit from your throat and down your front.

God, even the stomach acid burning your throat felt good. 

Despite the pain, despite how much it should have been hurting, you were still moaning mindlessly and drooling like an idiot all the way down your front, your eyelids fluttering like a broken baby doll as you tried to acclimate yourself to the white-hot pleasure.

"Ahh, that won't do," He grimaced at the vomit stain with a shake of his head, wiping his fingers off on his trousers. "No no, it won't do at all. Messy girl.” He chided softly with a low ‘tut-tut’. “I'm going to have to get you redressed…you know, since you can’t look after yourself properly anymore."

As if on cue, you suddenly felt firm hands reach down to the cuffs around your wrists and ankles, unclip them with ease (he hadn’t even put in that much effort to bind you, it seemed) and wrestle the stained clothing from your lax body.

You didn’t resist in the slightest, of course, since all of your limbs were totally lax and malleable as the clothing was stripped off. 

You just hoped that you’d get redressed into something cute.

Fox simply stood in front of you and the firm hands, smiling with placid amusement as you were redressed into a tight tank top (adorned with a tacky graphic in pink and white and glitter, so different from what you’d normally wear) that clung provocatively to your full, pierced chest (clung a little too tight, your breasts were practically spilling out of the thing), and a pink, plaid skirt that wasn’t long enough to cover your backside, let alone your scarred thighs.

This was exactly the way Fox wanted you, though. 

Pliant, agreeable, and dressed like a total slut.

"Much better," He praised with a sharp grin and a nod, taking his slow steps back in front of you as your wrists and ankles were chained up once more (even tighter, forcing your chest and hips to jut forward, as if you were presenting yourself). "And you were such a good girl too, letting yourself be posed and dressed, just like a doll...such a sweet, little thing."

His fingers reached down, then, and rubbed against your now bare cunt underneath your skirt, evidently satisfied when he found it drooling with wetness by the way his ears twitched and his tail immediately began to wag.

"I think I should give you a reward for that, don't you?"

Once again, you felt the authoritative pull of firm hands on each of your bound limbs, as you were pulled up against a familiar foam wedge, your limbs widely splayed outwards in spite of your binds and your half-lidded eyes rolling up to the ceiling, to the single, swinging light bulb.

The air in the filming room was cool on your hot cunt, enough to make you tremble and your nipples swell with blood and perk up, though that was nothing compared to the amount you were trembling when Fox approached you again, unzipping his suit trousers and placing a firm hand on your spread thigh.

"Just look at you," He sighed happily, sliding a hand into his underwear (expensive, Armani or some other designer brand) and slowly jerking himself to full hardness. "A helpless little doll underneath me. Everything a man like me could want. It's difficult to resist, you know." He licked his fangs idly as he pressed the head of his cock against your slit, running it up and down and feeling your oozing wetness slick up his length. "Mmf…and I've never been very good at resisting, as you well know~"

You were unable to do anything else but lie back pliantly and tip your head back as Fox's slim hips pressed to yours and he slid his cock inside of you, almost immediately groaning at the tight clench of your kegel muscles around him.

You, at the very least, had enough of a mind to make this good for him, it seemed.

You let out a long and dreamy moan at the pulsing sensation of his cock inside of you, to which he took in a sharp hiss through his teeth as you clenched up even tighter.

He somehow pinned your body down completely with his own, keeping you still, and you relished the opportunity for him to be so close to you.

"God, your little pussy is so tight," He groaned lowly in the back of his throat, his hands on your thighs clenching as he forced himself entirely inside of you. You could feel the initial swell of his knot against your slit and your entire body ached for it to fill you completely. "You fit around me so well…like…” He gasped again, his ears tilting forward. “Like you were moulded for me.”

"Nghh..." You groaned, panting wantonly open-mouthed and tipping your head back again and again as your spine arched dramatically, the short chains of each of your cuffs jangling with each hard thrust of his hips.

"If I could do nothing but fuck you all day long, I would in a heartbeat," He was panting himself (he did have a good twenty years on you, after all, and you had enough of a mind about you to be turned on by that), his free hand reaching up to the front of the tacky tanktop you'd been forced into, groping and pawing at your breast while he fucked you like he was born to do it. "Mph...too good."

"Nfff..." You bit your lip hard to hide a delirious smile, as you felt him nibble and nip at your neck, his chest pressing to yours, his twitching ears tickling your cheek and making you giggle yourself. "Sss...hah..."

"Oh, sweet girl, you can barely even speak, can you?” He murmured with an eager grin, rubbing his face against the juncture of your shoulder and your neck, scenting you like a fox would (you would know that, if you had even half a mind about you.)  “Mm, if only you could see yourself right now, sweetheart…if you could see what I've turned you into."

"NGH!" 

The sudden flash of pain was a surprise, enough to make you bite your lip unexpectedly hard, as his sharpened claws pressed deeply into your skin, tearing the flesh and muscle of your thigh and breast, and forcing rivulets of blood to drown and paint your skin with gruesome smears of red.

"Good girl," He praised, eminently satisfied by your pained reaction, as he pressed his hips even harder against yours, like he was trying to force his swelled knot inside of you (you couldn't do it easily, after all). "Good, pretty, little doll..."

“Hurts…hah…” You gasped as your hips bucked erratically against his. “Mpffff, pleaseeee, more…”

In spite of the blood, the torn skin, the damaged muscle, the drugs pumping through your system, coursing through your bloodstream and melting down your brain, made the pain feel like burning hot, overwhelming, overstimulating pleasure, easily the best you had ever felt, enough to make your mind fuzz and blur, and your vision go white.

"Oh, that’s perfect," He growled raggedly, baring his teeth like a man starved and narrowing his eyes, as he pulled his cock from your cunt and forced your soft thighs together with a mean slap. "That's just-" He then slid his cock between them, lubing his erratic thrusts with pearly beads of pre-cum and blood. "Mff...fucking perfect."

"Fox...nghh," You mewled, gasping as the head of his cock kept grazing over and over the worst of his scratches (impossibly deep, deeper than you thought any knife could ever go), feeling like he was teasing and stimulating every nerve in your body all at once. “T-Too much, hah…”

"Mm, that's no good either," He purred villainously, grabbing your cheeks with one hand and forcing your head back to the foam wedge, digging his claws into the marred skin around your injured eye as he kept bucking against the soft flesh of your legs. "You're sounding far too coherent right now, love...what, has your cocktail worn off already?"

"Nghh..." You slurred mindlessly, your body growing tense.

"Hmph, do I need to give you another dose?" He then asked, tilting his head with a broad grin, before he lowered his face down to yours, close enough that you could feel the heat from his cheeks and his breath on your skin. "Do I need to dull your brain even more so you'll always be my dumb, little doll, hm? Is that what you need, baby?"

You could still feel how hard he was, even when he wasn’t fucking you...at least he was enjoying this as much as you were.

"God, your body is so hot right now...twisted little dolly," He let out a barking chuckle (his real laugh, the one that only you saw) and pressed his cock-head back against the worst of your cuts, forcing the skin to tear and rupture even more like he was trying to create another hole. "You like it, don't you? You like that I'm threatening you and thinking about the best way to cripple your mind...mm..."

He licked his jaws before he leaned in to scent you again, and pressed a hungry bite to your neck, lighting your body up with another electric shock of pure pleasure.

"Let's try another dose first, though..." He growled, pulling back just enough so that those firm hands could plant your shoulders still against the wedge and line the needle's point with the harsh bite mark.

"Maybe I'll have to schedule you in for a lobotomy after we're done here...at least if the drugs don't work~"

[mactavishwritings]

Fresh Ink Part Three

Ghost x Tattoo Artist!Reader

You were always there for him. Would he do the same for you?

Tw: tattoo needles, kidnapping <3

Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four|

It had been about a year and a half since you had started tattooing Simon and about a year since you and Ghost had started seeing each other. You had worked on his sleeve until it creeped up over his shoulder and onto his back. You asked him multiple times to let you do his other arm, but he refused, claiming that he didn't want to run the risk of ruining a single piece with scars or wounds. You told him constantly that you would always cover it up, but he denied every wish. What you did manage to convince him of was to allow you to do a thigh piece; a giant portrait of Ares, the God of War and Courage, with a battle scene background. You had sketches drawn up in your notepad you kept besides your bed, not letting Simon get any early peaks. He always said he trusted you, not wanting any peaks any way, but you always caught him trying to look over your should while you were drawing.

The two of you tried to step up many appointments for Simon to get this tattoo done, but every time the appointment came around, he would get sent on a mission that would pull him away from you for weeks or even months at a time. You felt like you were being stood up, but you knew he couldn't control it. You saw in his eyes that he felt terrible about it and he didn't want to leave you. Whenever he did come back home, he came straight to you. You were his home; he never need to stop at his apartment, he had clothes at your house, and you were always waiting for him with open arms. You were the only home he needed. That and your shop made him feel happy and warm.

Speaking of your shop, you had expanded and you hired another artist to work in the shop with you. It lessened your work load incredibly and gave you the ability to see more of your clients. It definitely helped you relax a lot. Simon noticed the relief immediately, seeing you walk with less weight on your shoulders. You even had the ability to update your room even more; adding more decorations and pictures of you two. Emma made fun of you occasionally, but thought it was cute. Finally, Simon was able to get his thigh tattoo done. He was sitting in your chair, leg up and exposed. You were focused on the tattoo gun, dragging the needle carefully down his thigh. "You know, we've never had a real first date. Our dates consist of tattoos and movies at your place." Simon stated, hand resting on your back. You paused and leaned back in your chair, looking up at the man. "What? What do you mean?" You had a loopsided smile on your face, leaning up towards Simon who leaned back down in response. "I wanna take you on date. A real one where you dress nice and I bring you flowers."

Your face flushed and you gently kissed Simon's cheek before going back to his tattoo. "What were you think, love?" You pulled a deep line, thickening that side to add dimension to the piece. "I want to bring you to some fancy place where we make fun of the other people dining and I want you to wear some pretty dress that will make me drool all night and some heels that make your feel hurt so I'll have to rub them later." Simon played with a piece of your hair that fell out of your ponytail. You giggled and nodded along to his words. "And I would invite you in for a tea afterwards and you would come up with me. We would sit on my couch and drink the terrible I have because I don't drink it." Simon smiled brightly, the smile that only you get to see. "Exactly! Next day you're off, we're going because I don't know when my next mission is." You nodded, pulling another line, a thin one this time.

A couple days past and Simon had texted you that he was cashing in on his date card. He had texted you the day before that he was going to take you out so you had plenty of time to get ready. You treated yourself that day, a full shower, shave, and lotion. You spent the whole day focusing on yourself and getting ready. You knew that Simon would appreciate you taking the time to ground your mind. He wanted you to feel special, to know how much you meant to him. At half past 6, you got a text from Simon saying that he was outside your apartment building. You giggled and double checked yourself in the mirror before running out the door. You felt like it was a first date and you were still trying to impress each other again.

You met Simon in the lobby of your apartment, where he stood with a bouquet of fresh flowers. It was a variety of different flowers, from white lilies to pink roses. You took the flowers in your hands and your face flushed. “Thank you, Si. You really didn’t have to.” You planted a soft kiss on his cheek and he offered your his arm. He wore his usual skull mask, a pair of black fitted jeans, and a plain grey tee shirt that he had half tucked into his pants. Johnny must’ve given him some pointers on how to dress for this date. “I know. I wanted to though. You look absolutely stunning.” You had put on exactly what he had asked of you; a nice dark red dress that stopped right at mid thigh and a pair of heels that were already making your feet hurt, but nothing you couldn’t handle. You took his arm and gracefully walked with him to his car, smiling brightly up at the man, trying your best to ignore the stares you were getting.

The dress you picked out highlighted all of your tattoos, showing them off just how Simon liked. You knew it wasn’t usual for a woman to be completely covered in tattoos, but it was becoming more common. Most of the women who lived around you were clean and pristine, so of course they gave you stare downs whenever given the chance. Plus with Simon’s hulking figure and his mask, you two were like a show for these older women to gawk at. You felt slightly uncomfortable, wanting nothing more than to shrug on a jacket and hide in it. Simon must’ve noticed because he dropped his arm down and wrapped it tightly around your waist. He ushered you quickly into his car. “Ignore them, love. We’re gonna enjoy our evening, despite them.” Simon reassured as he opened the door for you, leaning down close to your face. You smiled, breathlessly nodding before sliding into the passenger seat. Simon reached over you and buckled you in and closed the door before quickly jogging around to the driver’s side and jumped in. You smiled happily as you wrapped your hand around his arm, leaning your head on his shoulder as he took off down the road.

"So we have two options; sushi or steak. Up to you." Simon kissed your head and you shrugged. "Choices choices choices....I think steak." You hummed and Simon smiled. "I like it. Let's go then." Simon quickly changed lanes and turned left. You leaned back in your seat and grabbed his phone to change the music to something you liked. Once you arrived to the restaurant, Simon opened your car door and you stepped out. You smiled at the place and Simon locked his car before guiding you inside. You guys were seated at a booth and you two sat across from each other, him reaching out to hold your hand. You squeezed his hand and grabbed the menu. "You want me to order for you, honey?" Simon looked at you, his thumb rubbing across your knuckles. "Yeah, whatever you think is good. I'm not sure what to get." You scanned the menu a few more times before placing the menu back down at the edge of the table. Simon nodded, before calling the waiter over and ordered a bottle of wine, two steaks, and an appetizer for you two to share. You smiled and leaned back, watching Simon check his phone before sliding it back in his pocket. Your smile faltered for a moment and your shoulders dropped.

"It's going in my pocket and not coming out for the rest of the night, I swear." Simon's hand came to rest on your arm and you nodded, smiling softly at the man. "You get called away any time we try to get together... Don't want to get my hopes up is all." You turned out as the waiter brought out the appetizer. Simon grabbed your hand gently as you tried to divert your attention to the food. "No no, baby. Look at me. I am here tonight and I am not going anywhere. I swear to you. Not tonight, You have me tonight." Simon whispered to you and you blushed, nodding. "Now let's enjoy the rest of the night without worrying about when I am leaving." You two were finishing up the rest of your dessert and you hand your wine glass in your hand, eyes practically in hearts. Simon was telling you one of his mission stories and his fingers laced with yours. When the check came, Simon immediately handed the waiter his credit card, not letting you even see the total. You blushed and finished the rest of your wine, rubbing his arm lightly.

The two of you decided to walk around the park that was down the road from the restaurant. You two held hands, walking past other people in the park. It was a clear night, relatively warm, and the sky was clear. You were just about to say something to Simon when his phone started buzzing in his pocket. Your shoulders dropped and your stomach plummeted. Simon squeezed your hand, before taking out his phone. You sighed as the man stepped away to take the call. The only reason you knew it wasn't good was he kept looking back at you with a familiar look in his eye; the look of sadness that he got when he had to leave you for another mission. You sighed and crossed your arms across your chest as Simon came back over to you after he hung up. "Babe..." Simon grabbed your arms and pulled you close to his chest. "Si. It's okay. It's your job, you can't control that." You casually shrugged and Simon shook his head, leading you back to his car. "I leave in two days. You and I are going to stay in your bed until then and I don't want to hear otherwise."

Those two days came and pasted and Simon stayed true to his word. The two of you stayed in your bed, minimal clothes and only getting up for food and the bathroom. When it came time for Simon to leave, you drove him back to base. You smiled at the man as he leaned over to kiss you deeply before getting out of the car. You rolled the passenger window down and Simon rest his forearms on the open slot. "Will you be here when I get back?" You nodded, knowing the hidden meaning behind the question. "Always." You reached your hand out and Simon grabbed it and planted a kiss on your knuckles. "Seeing you after the missions always make them go by faster. I now got something to come home to."

The mission had only lasted 3 weeks, but it felt like forever for you. You tried to make it go by faster by taking on more clients, but even Emma could tell your mind was elsewhere. You had just finished your last client of the day when you felt eyes on you. You turned your head to see Simon standing at the entrance of your room with his mask pulled up to his nose. "Oh my god! I didn't know you were going to be home this week!" You squealed and rushed over to the tall man. He was prepared for your weight, easily lifting you with one arm wrapped quickly around your middle. "Wanted to surprise you. Called Emma earlier to see if you were still in." You giggled and planted kisses all over the man's face. You tried to push his mask up more, but he stopped you, looking over his shoulder. He walked further into the room and closed the door, before finally shedding his mask. "There he is." You whispered as he sat down on your tattoo chair with you on top of him. You kissed his forehead, nose, and finally lips. "(Y/N). I need to have a serious conversation with you. You know that my job comes with risk, right?"

You got nervous and nodded, arms resting on his shoulders. "Have you seen anything weird? Gotten any weird messages?" You had never seen Simon so serious before. You thought back and shook your head. "I need to be open and honest with you, okay? We got intel that a suspect we've been chasing has touched down about 10 miles from here and I need to know immediately if you see anything weird or unusual." Your body got tense and nodded. "We don't think you'll be in any danger, but I want you to be prepared." You rubbed Simon's shoulder, feeling the stress he had been holding onto for the past few weeks. "Thank you, Si. I will let you know immediately. Pinky promise." You held your pinky out and Simon wrapped his around yours; you both leaned down and kissed your outstretched thumbs to seal the promise. A few days had pasted since that conversation, and you had forgotten all about the threat. You had just parked your car in the employee parking lot you recently opened and walked around to the front door of your shop to unlock the door. You were wrestling with your purse to find the keys when you noticed a note on the door. You grabbed the note and opened it; the paper had a black serpent symbol on it and that's when you heard the squealing of tires and you looked up. You gasped when you saw a black van pull up behind you and two masked men jumped out, grabbing your arms and covering your mouth. You cried out, kicking your legs as they dragged you into the van and driving off; not before dropping both the note and a black ace card on your door.

You were fighting the men off when you were injected with a drug in your arm. You felt your mind go fuzzy and the panic increased tenfold. Tears rolled down your face as you thought of Simon's words, knowing this would practically kill him. You closed your eyes, feeling the fight leave you as darkness over took. How would you survive this?

[certifiedstarrr]

Open Arms - Matt Sturniolo

warnings: panic attack, kissing, use of y/n, degradation thoughts, use of pet names, & fluffy fluff

POC FRIENDLYYY !!

summary: y/n has a panic attack because she was petrified of falling behind and disappointing people around her. Not wanting to be to annoying or clingy to Matt, and trying not let people down. Matt assists and reassures that she’s not letting people down and she’s doing great.

a/n: sorry if this is bad, but leave reqs in my inbox anytime, ily💕 also i know after party pt.4 has been put off awhile but i’m making time to fix it😭🤞

wc: 1k

not proofread (a bitch dont got no time for that shit)

based off of this song ↓

“when no one’s around me, you lost and found me, i was surrounded, with open, open, open, Open Arms”

y/n’s pov

fucking stupid idiot. you should have done it but look where you are now. from before i had 2 things on my to-do list

・Flashback・

“well, i’ll do it later.”

i wrote it down on my to-do list. i pet my dogーkelani and hug her,

“it’s okay i will get to it.”

i wrote down “get this week’s groceries and kelani’s dog food”

just make sure to get to it y/n.

・Now・

i had well over 7 things on my to-do list. i should’ve just done it while I could. so fucking dumb y/n. why do you let this happen? first it was my college classes, food for my dorm, the triplet’s birthday, my car repairs, my sister’s wedding back in london , my mom wants me to visit her in new york, and I have to study for my literature exam. if I don’t get anything for the triplet’s birthday they’ll definitely be disappointed, if i don’t visit my momーshe’ll definitely be upset; and if I don’t go to my sister’s wedding in london, i’m going to be seen as disrespectful to my elders.

i felt something bad was gonna happen but i wasn’t sure.

I was leaning on my bed, going through the list over and overーscolding myself each time. a sharp pain drilled through my chestーa new type of painーsomething i’d never felt before. but this? this hurt like hell. and all at the same time my vision got blurred and breathing became impossible. i’d decided that i had to call matt. he’d surely know how to deal with this, right? as i continued sobbing repeatedly, with breathing impeccably difficult, and my vision completely shattered. my phone rung a couple times, then,

finally he answered.

“hey baby what’s up?”

“matt i- n-need help”

my voice was in a mid-whisper but he still heard it.

“please help m-“

my voice was cut by me dropping my phone.

all of a sudden, my palms sweat and feel prickly and my clothes are overly tight. i hug myself and get into a fetal position, feeling like everything is wrong and i’m going to let everyone down and be one big disappointment.

matt’s pov

we were filming friday’s car video when i got that call from y/n. her voice sounded like she was crying, but she said help me. what the fuck happened?

“hey guys something is wrong with y/n”

“what happened?” chris questioned.

“her voice was all shaky and it sounded like she was crying or shit”

no questions were asked. nick didn’t yell or go on a rant about leaving. just driving.

ೃ༄

 

when i got to her room she was laying on the floor in fetal position, weeping, sobbing. god i hate to see her like this. curls laid out around her shoulder and her beautiful face covered in tears.

"matty?"

"yes baby its me"

"i don't know what to do matt," y/n said in between sobs whilst grabbing her chest trying to breathe.

i held y/n against me and tell me what's wrong.

"what's wrong y/n?"

"m-my vision went blurry and breathing became impossible and my palms felt like they were being poked by a million needles, my clothes got too tight and and-"

"you're having a panic attack y/n"

she didn't hear me so she went on about what happened.

"im going to let everyone down mattーthey're never gonna forgive me,"

"i have too much on my to-do list and if i dont do it i'm letting everyone down"

"look baby we're gonna take it one step at a time, one thing at a time."

"o-okay"

"let's breathe in on 3, okay?"

"okay"

y/n’s pov

i took a nice breath in then repeated the same motion, breathing out. my vision got better, my clothes stopped feeling too tight, palms stopped being pricked.

"thank you matt"

"of course y/n"

ೃ༄

we crossed off things of my to-do list, one by one, and before i realized i only had 2 things left on to-do list; like before.

i've never had a panic attack before and that attack could have been worse. but before i could spiral and get lost inside the darkness, i found my light.

matt was my light.

he was there for me, and always there with Open Arms

ೃ༄

extra: first of all, im so so so so so sorry for starving you all to fucking death; this fic took me forever😭😭

but tysm for reading !!

xoxo, riri <3

taglist: 🏷 @lovingmattysposts @elliesturniolo1 @elliewrites1 @sturnsbitch @lovingmattysposts @luvmxtt @novasturniolo03 @tyjna6 @sturnlova @sturniolo-lover1317 @patscorner

(comment here be on the taglist !!)

[smoothies-are-cool]

don’t worry

boyfriend! matt sturniolo x pop star girlfriend! reader

summary: reader is a singer and has vocal nodes but matt is with her every step of the way.

warnings: pet names (baby, sweetheart), use of y/n, surgery, anesthesia, hospitals, needles.

a/n: i’m not sure if anyone has ever done this before so please lmk if they have !! a lot of green in this story but pay attention because the green is like 5 different people because i’m limited on colors

being a popular singer has it’s perks but it definitely also has it’s own set of issues.

i had just finished my second united states tour and i was on my way back to LA, but in pain.

a few days before the last show my throat hurt so my manager, lexi made me see the first doctor available. we discovered i had vocal nodes and had to go under surgery almost as soon as i got back to LA.

my boyfriend matt, was one of the first people to know. he begged to come on the tour with me, but being an influencer himself i made him stay in LA with his brothers to manage their youtube channel and brand deals. he told me that i had no idea how bad he felt for not being able to be there for me.

with vocal nodes i’m not supposed to sing and i can barely talk. if i do talk i’m in a whole bunch of pain.

walking off the plane and into the airport was horrible. lexi doesn’t want me to go anywhere alone so i have one security guard with me at all times and that causes a lot of stares and people asking for things. today, i had sunglasses on, my hood up and airpods in.

i scan the airport, looking for my boyfriend and his 2 brothers. i immediately find them and i almost started to run to them but stop when i realize i still have my bags. i tap my security guard, mike’s shoulder and he looks down at me.

“can you-?” i ask, cutting myself off due to the pain in my throat. i point to my bags. he nods, grabbing the handle of my suitcase and the bag off my shoulder. i start walking quickly towards matt, taking off my sunglasses just before i get to him.

“i’m so sorry baby, are you okay?” he asks and tears fill my eyes. this surgery is very risky because there’s no guarantee that my voice will come back, so i’m genuinely terrified. singing is something so big in my life, it’s a huge part of me. if i can’t sing i don’t know what i’d do.

as i was attempting to talk matt cut me off. “you don’t have to talk, it’s okay.” he comforts. i nod, pulling away from the hug and turning to nick and chris.

“hi.” nick says softly, hugging me and rubbing my back. i just wave in response, pulling away.

“hey, i’m sorry.” chris apologizes, i just shrug. i turn back to matt as we stand in silence.

“let’s go then, yeah?” matt speaks up, grabbing my bags from mike.

we walk towards matt’s car with mike following closely behind. we can hear everyone talking about us and taking pictures but we ignore it. when we get to matt’s car i turn to mike.

“the car is over there. can you please tell them i’m with the triplets and i’m safe?” i ask, pointing in the direction of a black escalade.

“yeah of course.” mike nods.

“thank you so much. i’ll see you tomorrow.” i tell him, climbing into the passenger seat.

after a couple hours of hanging out with matt in mostly silence, he brought me back to my house. i had to go see a specialist tomorrow to schedule my at 8 am so it was just easier if i stayed at my house so my manager could pick me up.

“want me to come in for a few?” matt asks, putting the car in park. i nod and he starts to get out of the car.

“uh actually, can you stay please? i’m scared to be alone.” i ask, my voice strained as i wince from the pain in my throat.

“yeah of course.” he nods. when we get inside we go up to my room and i change into pajamas. since matt is over so often, he started keeping clothes of his at my house so he was able to change into pajamas as well. we climb into my bed and i lay my head on his chest, his arm wraps around me as i turn on our favorite show, new girl.

“i know you’re probably really scared right now, but i want you to know that i’m always here for you.” he tells me, rubbing his thumb across the exposed skin on my hip.

“thank you matt.” i tell him softly. if i speak soft enough the pain isn’t as intense as it would be if i spoke normally.

at the doctors office they scheduled my surgery. they wanted to do it as soon as possible so it was in three days.

matt had been with me everyday, getting me anything i needed or wanted. i tried my best not to talk, but when i’m around matt that’s all i wanted to do.

he had told me when it was the day of my surgery he was going to sit in the waiting room the entire time no matter how long it took. i tried to tell him how much i loved him but he didn’t want me to talk and mess up my voice even more.

3 days later

me, matt, lexi and mike walked into the surgical center and walked up to the front desk.

“y/n l/n has a phonomicro surgery schedule for 9 am.” lexi spoke for me. my nerves were so bad i genuinely thought i was going to throw up and matt could tell so he grabbed my hand and rubbed his thumb across the back of my hand.

“yes here she is. please fill out this paperwork and then the nurse will come get her in a few minutes to prep her for the surgery. you guys can take a seat.” the receptionist tells us, handing me a clipboard of papers and a pen and pointing to a set of four chairs along the wall.

we all take seats and i start to fill out the papers. it’s pretty basic and standard questions. ‘what’s your full name?’ ‘when’s your birthday?’ ‘do you have insurance?’ ‘have you ever had surgery before?’ i filled out there pages of the same questions that were worded in different ways.

i finished the paperwork and handed it back to the receptionist. a few minutes later my name was called. the nerves in my body spiked up and i immediately started shaking. matt and lexi stood up with me and matt pulled me into him.

“don’t worry sweetheart, you’re gonna be okay. we’ll all be waiting for you, okay?” he tells me soothingly which helps calm me down a bit. i turn to lexi.

“don’t think to much into it. you’re voice will come back.” lexi says, rubbing my arm. i nod, waving to mike before walking off with the nurse.

as we’ve walking to the room she’s asking me all the same questions i answered on the papers.

“okay i’m gonna have you change into this gown, these underwear and these socks. put your clothes in this bag. you can change in here.” the nurse tells me, handing me everything and showing me to the bathroom that was in my room.

when i walked out she took my bag of clothes and placed it on the chair. “you can go head and lay down. are you scared of needles?” she looked at me as she rolled her cart of things closer to the bed. i shook my head no.

“okay that’s good. i do have to put an IV in your arm so the anesthesiologist can give you anesthesia. do you want to squeeze this?” she asks me, holding up a blue stress ball.

“mhm.” i hum, smiling as she handing the ball to me. i felt her clean my arm with an alcohol pad and she paused for a second, i assumed she was looking for a good vain to put the IV in.

“okay, 3,2,1.” she counted, pushing the needle into my arm. “you okay?” she asked.

“yeah.” i confirm.

“good, now i’m gonna push you into the operating room.” she put the sides of the bed up, pushing me out of the room. when we got to the operating room there were people already waiting.

“hi y/n, i’m the anesthesiologist. you doing okay?” he asked me, i nodded and put my thumb up.

“okay good, i want you to count back from 10, okay?” he tells me, i nod. i feel him messing around with the IV and i knew he was getting ready to give me the anesthesia.

“10, 9, 8, 7-“ i managed to get to 7 before passing out.

when i woke up i was back in the room from earlier. matt, lexi and mike all sat in chairs around me and matt was holding my hand.

i squeeze his hands a couple times, giving him a sign that i’m awake.

“oh thank god.” he breathes, kissing my forehead. i open my mouth to speak but they all stop me.

“no!” they all yell, my eyes going wide.

“you can’t talk.” lexi tells me.

“you’ll be in pain if you do.” matt adds on. lexi turns to mike. “can you get the doctor and tell them she’s awake?” lexi asks. mike nods and walks out.

a few minutes later he walks back in the with doctor.

“miss l/n, how you feeling?” the doctor asks. “don’t talk! use your hands.” he quickly adds on, putting his thumb up and then down. i put my thumb on the middle.

“okay that’s normal.” he tells me, feeling my lymph nodes.

“you can’t talk for about a week, and you have to wait about a month before you try to sing, okay?” i shake my head yes.

“okay. we do have to keep you over night for observation but you should be able to go home tomorrow afternoon. you will have to be under close observation. do you have anyone that you live with or anyone that can look after you.” he asks. i point to matt. the doctor nods.

“well everything looks good for now. i’ll come back later and check on you.” he tells me, walking out of the room. matt walks closer and grabs my hand again.

“see you’re okay.” he smiles. i smile and nod.

“i know this isn’t a great time, but there was a picture that was leaked of us walking into the hospital so now people think you’re dead because you haven’t been active on anything.” matt tells me. my eyes go wide and i almost laugh. i do texting motions with my hands, letting them know i want my phone. matt laughs and pulls my phone out of his pocket and hands it to me.

y/n.l/n posted on their story!

a/n: should i make a part 2 of the recovery?? 😇 i wrote this while watching 8 mile.

[thatguywhodoesstuff]

A Golden Goose Idea

After putting some thought into it, I’ve decided to hop back online for a moment and share some ideas I’ve had for a Mammon X Stella fan kid. I probably won’t do much of anything with with the character, but I felt like sharing my vision of a gremlin child for this glorious ship, while also borrowing from some of the ideas posited by @prof-ramses.

Ideas Under The Cut:

While Stella had experience from when Octavia was still an egg and was for the most part pretty reserved during the incubation period, Mammon’s nerves were shot and his dread over something going wrong before the egg hatched led him to act (more) aggressive and impulsive towards those outside his family. During the months leading up to the hatching day, Greed as a whole was walking on pins and needles for fear of provoking its ruler’s fury.

When the day finally came, Mammon and Stella welcomed a bouncing baby boy into the world and in that moment both felt like they were at the top of Hell.

They named him Merch.

Physically, Merch takes heavily after his father (same general build and four arms, but his head is more blocky and he has four visible eyes), with some attributes from his uncle Andy (he has some sparse crystalline/icy feathers). Overall, he draws a lot of inspiration from a Peacock Spider (Arachnophobia Warning).

Personality wise, Merch has the innocent, but chaotic energy of Spooky Month’s Skid and Pump mixed with the scheming and quick thinking of Louise Belcher. Merch is also possessing of a boundless sense of curiosity and a complete lack of understanding of boundaries or warnings, often resulting in him leaving chaos in his wake when left unattended.

Has a really close relationship with both of his parents, often helping his mom with her art projects and being overjoyed whenever his dad takes him to any of his various businesses (especially Loo Loo Land).

I like to think Merch eventually grows up to be an architect/engineer/imagineer that specializes in making fair rides and amusement parks as a tribute to both of his parents’ interests.

His relationship with Octavia is a bit distant given the significant gap in their ages, but the two get along pretty well and often turn to one another as someone they can vent to.

When it comes to his extended family, the Sins are (for the most part) overjoyed to have another little one running around they can dote on and guide towards eventually becoming a new superpower in Hell and Charlie just lights up whenever she sees him and he’s always excited to hangout with his cousin.

As for uncle Andrealphus, Merch follows in his dad’s footsteps in stringing him along and subtly insulting him to his face. Mam has definitely taught him to do the same to Ozzie and Fizz under the guise of it being a game.

While Camio and Furfur are overjoyed that Stella and Mam have another kid and they do genuinely care for Merch, after their first (and last) time babysitting him, they prefer to be around him with his parents or sister also being present.

The only person Merch legitimately dislikes is Stolas because, even if Merch doesn’t know all of the details, he knows that Stolas hurt his mom and sister. Stolas is probably the only person Merch actively schemes against in the hopes of making his life more difficult.

While Stella and Mammon are pretty involved and present parents, Merch is pretty much free to wander and explore Greed unattended, the same applying to Octavia, with no fear of either of them being in any real danger. Everyone in the ring knows better than to mess with them because, unlike Ozzie, Mammon would be far more active in ensuring either of his kids’ safety, even if it means cutting a bloody swath through his own territory.

In terms of voice, I can only really picture him as sounding like Pump.

I really like the idea of Merch wearing clothes emblazoned with a cent sign as a nod to Mammon’s design incorporating dollar signs.

I also like the idea of Merch just generally being larger than the rest of his family as an adult, while keeping most of his easy going and cheerfully chaotic personality despite maturing.

Merch has a tendency to say corporate buzzwords and shill Mammon brand products. He doesn’t really understanding what he’s talking about, he just wants to imitate his dad. Mammon and Stella find this habit adorable, while Octavia is left more than a little exasperated by it all.

Merch is every bit as touchy-feely and has the same personal space invading tendencies as his father.

[deathofpeaceofmiiind]

high infidelity | four

I knew you’d linger like a tattooed kiss, I knew you’d haunt all of my what ifs. *Elliots POV* How did Noah get my number?  I gained my composure and got into my car. My eyes stared at the screen as I tried to figure out what to say to him. I missed him so much but I was still hurt that he walked away from me. Regardless, I would’ve done anything to find him, but he beat me to it much to my surprise. My phone buzzed and it was him again…I really needed to turn off my read receipts. “Danielle gave me your number. I just want to talk to you.” “You just left me Noah…” “You have every reason to be pissed at me but we both felt something last night…you know I’m right.”

“Are you still in town?” “I’m sorry but we left for Seattle an hour ago…” I wanted to cry knowing he was already in another country and not near me anymore. I sat in silence for a few moments as my head pondered about what I was going to do. All I knew is that Noah and I deserved another chance. I wanted to lay out all my cards for him and tell him everything he wanted to know. If he ran, at least I tried. I called Danielle as I drove home, trying my best to not run any red lights. “I’m sure you want to kill me for giving Noah your number but you gotta admit -“ “I don’t care” I cut her off, “I need to you go to Seattle with me tonight. I really need to see Noah. Please.” “I’ll be at your place in an hour.” The line died and I could feel my heart racing. There was no one in the world like Danielle. She had been my best friend since 9th grade and has had my back for everything. She was the kind of friend that would drop everything for you if you needed her. I raced home and began to quickly pack up some things. I figured what I was wearing would be fine for tonight so I packed some leggings, pyjamas, a hoodie, make up and my toiletries. Danielle was almost at my house so I went downstairs to wait for her. I was going to text Noah and tell him I was coming but part of me wanted to surprise him. “Call me after the show…we can talk then.” Danielle’s car pulled up and I took a deep breath before going outside. I was never one to do spontaneous things like this but the last twenty four hours haven’t exactly been normal. As much as I hated Tyler I knew Liam would be safe with him. I texted him to say Danielle had an emergency and she needed me. I got into the car and tears filled my eyes as I looked at Danielle. She grabbed my hand, saying everything and nothing at once. *Noah’s POV* I rolled over in my bunk on the bus after sleeping off the rest of my hangover. We were definitely close to Seattle cause I could see the space needle on the horizon.  I walked towards the front of our bus to grab myself an energy drink from the fridge to wake myself up. Bryan and Jolly were on the couch as they nodded at me before going back to Bryan’s computer to go over last nights footage. I sat down across from them as took a few sips of my drink. Folio came out of his bunk and plunked himself beside me. He caught me smiling at my phone like an idiot. “So, did she…” “Yeah.” I beamed from my phone, “she did.” “Fuck yeah!” Folio screamed as he slapped my arm. I had to laugh. He was such a child, but what other kind of energy do you expect from a drummer? “So when are you two going to talk or meet up?” “She said I could call her after the show tonight.” I mused as I took a long sip of my drink. Fuck these things taste awful but I can’t stop drinking them. “You should’ve invited her the show tonight.” Jolly chimed in. ”Fuck I never thought of that.” I muttered as I had a lightbulb moment, “when’s the next show?”

“After tonight we have two days off before we go to Vegas.” “I’m gonna go back up and see her tomorrow.” I said with determination in my voice. They all sent me sympathetic smiles before going back to what they were doing. My head hit the back of the couch as I took a deep breath. I always looked forward to shows but I was already eager for it to be over so I could call Elliot. She was the first woman in years I could see myself being with if I was given the chance. I’ve also never missed someone this much, it was actually starting to scare me. “You look very happy all of a sudden.” Nick said to me as we walked into the venue. “I texted Elliot earlier. She said we can talk after the show tonight.” “That’s great news dude!” Nick beams before grabbing his bass off one of the stands.

“Just don’t fuck up this time!” Matt yelled from his booth, causing me to give him the finger.

I didn’t say much after that but that stupid smile wouldn’t come off my face. The guys could tell how happy I was and their energy started to match mine. Our soundcheck went flawlessly and we were ready for tonight. The more this tour goes on, the more confident I get with my voice. Honestly, this whole tour has made me so fucking excited for this bands future. All the hard work was paying off.

[joshriku]

Hello hello if you're doing cherik drabbles would you be interested in writing something about Charles having a chronic pain flare-up please? Thanks ever so i love your creative genius 👍

I KNOW I SAID DRABBLES BUT I SAW THE WORD COUNT FOR THIS REACHING 1.1K AND I WAS LIKE OOPS MY BAD. thank you for your lovely compliment i am really flattered you'd think im a creative genius :')

“I think Charles and I will be calling it a night,” Erik says, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“We are?” Charles asks, blinking through the fog. How long has it been since he stopped listening to the conversation? He can’t seem to recall. The window had just felt so comfortable to stare at. 

“We’re tired,” Erik stands up, dusts off his pants, and smiles apologetically at the rest. “It’s our bed time.”

“You know how it is,” Charles says, as if he’s been aware of this conversation the entire time. He makes to move his hands to the wheels, trying to push through the pins and needles that seem to be stabbing at him, and grins. “We simply aren’t as youthful as we used to be.”

“Oh, Professor, we know you’re as youthful as ever,” Jean says back, grinning, but the meaning of the words are a little lost. Maybe she said that. He can hear her, but the words are… hard to grasp. Perhaps Erik did the right thing when he called it a night.

Erik’s mental, soft laughter cuts through the fog of his thoughts easily. Of course I did.

They say their goodbyes to Jean and Scott and make their way through the mansion, suspiciously quiet. There’s a chance Erik’s aware of the tension building on his shoulders, the tugging on his shoulder blades, the ever-tired forearms, and—

“Of course I can,” Erik opens the door to their bedroom easily. “I have been feeling some, ah, phantom pains for the past thirty minutes.”

All right, so he had been zoning out for thirty minutes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to project.”

“I don’t mind,” he replies, undressing. Charles begins his own undressing, too, but getting the sleeves out of his arm is a little more painful than usual. He hisses when he does so until Erik comes around, helps a little. “I figured it out earlier than that, though. You looked uncomfortable.”

“Do you think the rest noticed?”

“No. I simply know you too well,” he smiles. “Do you mind transferring to the bed? I left my robe inside the bathroom. I’ll be back soon.”

Charles nods. It’s a little hard to form thoughts, now that he’s aware of how much his body is hurting. He’s sore. The continuous wave of pain settles in the pit of his stomach, bile threatening to rise up. Right. So it’s one of those days. He swallows, breathing in and out. Do you want me to wait for you in any position, or…?

On your stomach, if you can. Let me know if not.

No, no. I can do it.

It takes a bit of maneuvering—his arms are definitely not in condition to be pushed right now—but eventually, his cheek meets his mattress, and the momentary relief of not being sitting down crashes down upon him. As he basks in it, though, the tugging at his shoulder blades grows stronger. There are no right positions for these arms, are there? Putting them on his side worsens the strain, and straightening it triggers pain on the lower half and it extends to his hand, and—

“I am here,” Erik says, calmly sitting down next to him. Charles turns his head slightly, just to see him. He has a little box with him, no doubt carried out of the bathroom. “Now, I don’t promise to be as good as your physical therapist…”

“Don’t worry,” Charles’ lips tilt up again. “I’m sure you’re better.”

He tries to not hiss when the cool of the lotion is poured on his back, but before he can complain about it, Erik’s warm hands follow it up. The sigh he exhales—oh, it’s heavenly. The way his thumbs dig into it, the pressure against the muscle, it makes the pain recede ever so slightly. His fingertips travel up until they meet his shoulders and there we go.

“Good?” Erik asks, sounding pleased. “I can hear your thoughts again.”

“Better than good,” Charles breathes out as he continues. His thumbs slide down with some pressure from the base of his neck to the end of his column, and it’s so, so good, he could fall asleep again. “Are you a physiotherapist in your free time?”

“I’m many things,” Erik replies. His hands go up again, and then his thumbs start digging at the base of his skull—Charles lets out a yelp. “Oh, I’m sorry. But you are so tense.”

His thumbs move in a circular motion, trying to release the stress, and Charles grips his sheets so hard he’s scared of rupturing them. 

“Have you been stressed?” Erik asks.

“Not particularly,” Charles answers between hisses. “I think—ah—I think it’s one of those days.”

“I figured,” he mumbles, finally letting go of the torture, and to his own surprise he does feel a little lighter. Sore, yes, but lighter. Erik’s hands do their magnificent work on his left arm, too. “Are all your meds in order?”

“Yes. I think nothing a muscle relaxer can’t fix,” he says. “Thank you, Erik. I’m sorry our evening got cut short.”

“There will be other evenings,” Erik assures him. Lie on your back. I want to do the other side. “Besides, we are still together, so our evening is still going.”

“Yes, but you know,” slowly, he does as he was told—mobility is a little less painful now. Erik was a miracle worker. “We still had plans.”

“I’m sure your students can handle just fine if you go to sleep at ten today,” Erik teases, grabbing the arm once Charles gets himself in position. “We have been through this.”

“Right. No apologizing over this.”

“See? You do know better,” he finishes at last, moving his hands to his bare chest. His hands slide up, gently pressing against the chest muscles. Charles exhales once more. “Tell me more. Do you think this will last until tomorrow?”

“I hope not, but I will only know when I wake up. So unpredictable, these things.”

Erik hums. He leans back, putting away the box with the lotions, and standing up. He’s finally feeling good enough to wheel himself back to the bathroom and do his own routine.

“Thank you so much,” he says as he sits up, while Erik starts lying down. He does give in to the urge to lean down and kiss him, even if his back briefly protests over it. “Where would I be without you?”

Erik watches him as he leans back, going to his chair, thankful that his arms no longer protest and fall asleep on him. 

“I ask myself that about you, every day,” Erik says back.