#feeling like a burden and unimportant...

[heavenfelll]

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

Today is one of those days. 😞

[anonymous-depressed-figure]

I hate my birthday 🫠

[biitchofthewild]

.

[fittoniapearcei]

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

[01zfan]

anything 4 u | j. sc

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

loosely inspired by “anything 4 u” by lany. this damn near killed me to write omfg.

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

before you came into the world as shotaro’s little sister, sungchan was his bestfriend. they were friends before they could walk, gravitating towards one another even as crawling babies. sungchan was shotaro’s first sibling, crossing the threshold of being his bestfriend in such a short amount of time. shotaro was the closest thing sungchan would ever have to a sibling, he was the only child in his house. 

“can you stop messing with her, sungchan?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“up here.” shotaro said casually.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“just say you’re busy.” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“okay. see you then.” 

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

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

“we almost got caught.” sungchan says quietly.

“no we didn’t.” you say

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

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

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

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

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

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

“oh she must’ve.” you scoffed.

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

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

“no i’m not.” sungchan said back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you will!” shotaro says playfully.

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

“thank you.” you say.

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

“you’re welcome.” the man says back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“dramatic.” sungchan said under his breath.

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

“look who’s talking.” you sneer.

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

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

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

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

“drive safe.” you say to shotaro.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

your eyes widen, indignation across your face.

“it actually is your fault.” you say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“babe?” sungchan called out. 

you moved in the front seat, causing the car to slightly shake. sungchan was filled to the brim with excitement, reaching for the button on his pants to push his jeans down. sungchan saw your pretty manicured hand—paid by him—reach to to the backseat. your panties hung by the end of your nail, dangling in the space by sungchan’s face. before they could fall to the floor he grabbed it a little too quickly, balling it up in his hand and bringing it to his face. although he couldn’t see you he could hear you scoff and say some degrading word that made him twitch in his pants. 

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

sungchan reached his hands out to help you, one hand still holding your balled up panties. you declined his help, sitting on the other side of the car.

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

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

“come over here princess.” sungchan said.

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

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

you shrug, your hands starting at your knees working their way up. sungchan clenches his hands at his side, seeing you tease yourself the same way he always does. when you reach the ends of your dress you teasingly lift them up, giving sungchan a quick peak of you. when he reaches forward to touch your inner thigh you smack his hand. sungchan recoils, going back to leaning against the door.

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

you always had the habit of bossing sungchan around, it’s been there since you both were young. but more often than not the one time you were pliant in taking whatever sungchan wanted to give you in the bedroom. the two of you came to the agreement that sungchan was more than capable of taking care of the both of you, because his pleasure was dependent on yours. he liked seeing you get weak underneath him and he liked having to take you the rest of the way when your legs failed you while riding him. 

but this was different. 

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

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

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

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

you snapped out of your haze when sungchan tried to give you orders, narrowing your eyes at him. his eyes were immediately apologetic when he saw that you stopped fingering yourself completely, sliding out of your cunt with a shudder.

“i know how to masturbate, you fucking idiot.” you seethe.

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

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

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

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

“you’re mine right?” you whimpered.

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

“yes.” he said.

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

“you’re mine.” sungchan said.

he saw your head dumbly move up and down and your long eyelashes bat as you blinked away tears. your soft pretty hand from never working a day in your life went over sungchan’s large hand, slowly guiding him to your center. your plush lips almost mouthed please as sungchan just let his hand rest there, unmoving.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“i do.” you whine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you nodded, words fractured anytime you tried to speak.

“so close.” you stuttered.

“i can tell.” sungchan said knowingly.

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

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

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

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

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

“yeah. you do.”

[inverseofconverse]

[suzukiblu]

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

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

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

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

Of course he’s gonna. 

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

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

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

He definitely wants that. 

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

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

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

Lynn–pauses. Frowns. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yup!” he says. “He’s the best.” 

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

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

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

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

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

[divomria]

Today I'm thinking about Harry asking Peter:

“Do you want me to die?”

The pain in his voice and where it came from.

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

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

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

Just the two of them.

[thekingofchungus]

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

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

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

[kairiscorner]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but like hell he'd let it end here.

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

[thenightmarketofdathomir]

Dear Wishmonger, your writings are a gift and a comfort to so many. May I ask, for my own self, how would a reader with a Neurological chronic illness be cared for by the brothers? Symptoms that seem frightening, painful and unpredictable to the outside observer leaves one wishing for a safe place to land until well again.

Twins smile upon you, friend. I hope this finds you well.

Title: Rakghoul Plague is way worse Pairing: Darth Maul/Reader (she/her) Rating: PG Warnings: Described symptoms of a hemiplegic migraine dramatized for effect (hurt/comfort), space medicine references

The first time Maul witnesses an episode that leaves you crumpled in a corner, half your body stricken with paralysis, your features twisted into a rictus of pain and totally unresponsive, he thinks its an attack: someone's infiltrated the Dawn, a spy on Dathomiri soil, in his home, among his kin... Biological warfare, certainly, targeting him at his most vulnerable though no one would ever dare call you a weakness --

But Maul knows that only the tender parts that remain unguarded are the most susceptible to attack.

He feels your pain in the twist of your legs, the curl of your fingers, and in your head when he reaches in with a gentle gesture so careful that any other adept might damage what's precious with less finesse, and he sees what you do against the dark canvas of your mind, familiar in that peculiar way that returns him to memories of a windowless durasteel cell and the droid that repaired him.

The particulars are unimportant. Broken bones can be healed many times over, but the feeling that remains is a lesson that can be imparted given the right incentive to recall it with renewed purpose:

He would not want you to make the pain a weapon.

He would spare you that study with every ounce of his being, knowing its intricacies with the intimacy of a lover taught these rituals of suffering.

The light changes: dark to white, and you remember the particular feeling of being cradled between cybernetic legs is an acquired taste, but maybe not to much of a comfort. His rough hands are careful with your body when he lifts you, balanced against the solidity of his chest as the world sways gently with each click and whirr of his servo motors as he carries you to the privacy of his quarters -- to his bed where he draws the curtains where no one but the Spirits can see the way he bows over you, protective.

Peace is a lie, but with your nose pressed into the hollow of his throat, you might be persuaded otherwise as his presence in the Force and in your body sifts away the aches and strain, and eases the tensions of your body.

When he withdraws his influence, he takes some of the tension that holds you in its grip with him as if it was a burden he opted to carry the moment you bruised your knees on Dathomiri stone. He watches you blink back to clarity from blindness, confusion registering because there's a twitch over his right eye that reflects the feeling of abating numbness mirrored beneath your own skin -- siphoned from you to him.

"My Lord? What happened?"

His answer is a cup pressed to your lips with cool water to soothe the sting of a dry throat, and a warm hand to your forehead, and then wrapping the back of your head, so soothing that your eyes flutter shut again as warmth suffuses the lingering tension. He squeezes his fingers, and you melt into the strength in his grip knowing that he'd never hurt you.

His murmur against your temple rolls through you like the promise of a hard rain after thunder, washing away those lingering discomforts that pulled you away from him for too many moments, "Needless suffering is hardly productive, my dear."

Your smile cuts through the dim, and he stiffens -- the firebright glare of his gaze narrowing.

You've scared him -- this unshakable, determined, angry creature.

Somehow, that comforts you: to know how important you are to him, even if he can't put it into words.

"I'll try to remember that next time," you tell him.

He glowers a moment longer, his frown deepening to create furrows over the furrows. He leans in, furious in a way that makes you want to cup his cheek, to offer comfort as he seethes, his grip on you unrelenting but no less careful.

"Never again," Maul promises.

You don't believe him, at first, so you kiss his cheek in a way that's meant to diffuse his brooding -- but none have the same connections as your lover, nor the resources, nor the talent... and definitely not the determination of a former Sith intent on guarding what's his from anything that hurts her.

For Maul -- he'll remind you again, forever, later -- the first time is the last time he'll see you suffer.

[vettelsvee]

FIRST VICTORY (PART 1) | Sebastian Vettel

f1 masterlist | history series masterlist

history series season 1: part 1 | part 2.1 | part 2.2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

summary: sebastian gets his first pole position, while diana realizes that perhaps the world of motorsport she had idealized was not as wonderful as she had imagined. except for seb, of course, who was the one who, in part, made her continue in formula 1.

word count: 7060

warnings: curse words, bad language, mentions and act of sexism. mentions of sickness and medical terms. seb and di getting closer. just nico rosberg doing nico rosberg things (friendly reminder that whatever you read here is fiction, and nothing that happens here or how characters act is real)

taglist: [@theseerbetweenus @annewithaneofthegreengable @vincentvanshoe] if you wanna be tagged in each part just tell me in the comments <3

¡! you can read the fanfic as diana or y/n, but the faceclaim will always be my girl emma stone :)

feedback is truly appreciated!

2008

Italian Grand Prix  Autodromo Nazionale Monza

September 11 th Thursday

Monza had not welcomed them as they had hoped.

The sun had barely risen on that Thursday, marking the beginning of the Italian Grand Prix, hiding behind multiple dark gray clouds loaded with water that threatened to unleash upon the circuit at the most unexpected moment.

Diana, with her umbrella in one hand, backpack hanging from her back, and her accreditation hanging from her neck, entered the paddock with a downcast look. She had been with the Toro Rosso team for six months already, and although she knew she was living her dream of being part of the sport she loved so much and was aware from the moment she set foot in that world that it wouldn't be a bed of roses, nothing was turning out as she had initially imagined.

The first three or four Grand Prix had gone well, and they had even strengthened her bond with Sebastian due to his DNF situations. However, as the weeks passed and, with them, the months, everything started to go downhill. While initially the team seemed happy to have a girl among them, derogatory comments, an abundance of sexist jokes, and daily attitudes of the same kind became Wagner's burden. She couldn't help but feel undervalued and, above all, useless.

"I'm sure that when Diana gets promoted and becomes my engineer everyone will want her," Vettel said on one occasion when he heard a sexual proposition from one of his mechanics to another. "Trust me, Diana Wagner is going to win championships with me."

No matter how much the dyed-blonde had tried to prevent Seb from defending her to avoid drawing more attention, he didn't mind; on the contrary, he did it willingly.

"I have four amazing women in my life, and I wouldn't want them to be treated like that," the driver explained, showing a photo of his sisters and mother. "Despite being a ladies' man I know there are limits, and respect is above everything for me."

That didn't help at all as Diana ended up being relegated to minor, unimportant tasks. Suddenly, she found herself going back and forth in the paddock carrying coffees, preparing some meals and running errands for anyone, as if her only function was to be a decoration. She didn't know, but she was sure she had worked too hard to show that she deserved that opportunity more than anyone else who had applied for the scholarship. And not only that: she also tried to gain the trust and, especially, the respect of Toro Rosso members, although it seemed to have worked only with the blue-eyed blonde.

Despite proving her worth in every free practice, qualifying and race, and regardless of learning a little more every day, her senior engineer completely ignored her.

As she crossed paths with people on her way to the team's box, she reminded herself that she had arrived there on her own merits; that she had worked for years and that, if this moment was not the right one for her to shine, she would do so in the future. Patience, and especially attitude, along with luck, were the keys to success, and her father had ingrained it in her over her twenty years of life.

A group of Ferrari engineers accompanied by Felipe Massa passed by her arguing heatedly about possible strategies for Sunday's race and some configuration for the race car. As they almost always mistook her for a grid girl, Diana always took advantage of that. This time was no exception. Carefully, she began to follow them, pretending to attend a phone call to listen to as much of the conversation as possible and mentally note everything they said down. Sebastian's performance had improved since the race in Monaco thanks to some contributions she had made to Alex, the driver's engineer, who obviously took credit for it. She knew that no matter how much information she shared, it would not be acknowledged as her own, but the fact that she could help secure at least a podium for Vettel was all that mattered to her.

"Now, apart from being an aspiring intern, are you also a spy?"

Nico's voice made her come to a sudden halt, realizing she had been caught. A blush started to spread across her cheeks, accompanied by an unpleasant nervousness in her stomach.

"I was just snooping around a bit," the girl explained, growing more nervous as she saw the blonde approaching her. "I wanted to find out what's being discussed around here, that's all."

"About Ferrari's strategies, am I right?"

Diana didn't say anything, confirming Rosberg's assumption.

"That's what I like most about you, that you're determined."

"But you've barely seen me," Diana responded a bit curtly. "I just want to learn from the best to be the best, and I would do anything for it," she commented sincerely.

"Would you come with me now for a coffee?"

The young woman began to feel a shiver running down her spine, feeling uncomfortable with the German's suggestion. Every time she had had a chance to talk to the driver it had been in the same way. That had only made him gradually gain more confidence with her, and the hints became more and more direct.

"Thanks for the invitation, but I'm more of a tea girl," the girl said ironically, trying to maintain composure. "Besides, I don't know if you know, but I came to work and prove my worth, not to boost anyone's ego."

Before the Williams driver could reply, a familiar voice joined the conversation. Sometimes, Sebastian Vettel seemed like Spider-Man and appeared just when the Austrian needed him most.

"What are my eyes seeing? Nico Rosberg flirting, again, with our amazing intern?" he questioned, wrapping his arms around Diana. "Come on, lower yourself to that... I didn't expect that from you, Rosberg."

"I was just being friendly with her," the other guy tried to pretend with a smile. "Right, Di?"

Diana nodded, agreeing with him even though she knew it wasn't true. Vettel noticed how the girl's body tensed a bit due to discomfort, something that bothered him a little.

"Di?" Seb replied. "Now you're close to her?"

"Sebastian," she said, interrupting him because she was aware that if she didn't, things would escalate. "I just wanted to go for coffee, really, but I don't feel like it because I have work to do," she approached him, placing her hand on his chest, and said something in a low voice. "There's no need to make a scene."

Sebastian took a deep breath and calmed down a bit. He didn't like the intentions that many guys had with what he considered his friend, and Rosberg was no exception. He had heard many insinuations with that girl coming from many mouths, and every time someone said something he wanted to start a fight no matter how much he tried to control himself.

"Well, Nico, why don't you let Di and I go back to our garage? We need to discuss some private matters."

Nico accepted, with a mocking smile on his lips.

"Of course, I wouldn't want to interrupt whatever private thing you're going to do."

"Don't make things up, you bastard!" Wagner shouted at him as Rosberg winked at them and began to walk away briskly.

The girl thanked Sebastian mentally. Sometimes Nico could be not just a little but too heavy. It's not that she found him ugly, far from it, but she liked to get to know people before throwing herself into their arms and acting as if they had known each other their whole lives.

"Thanks for that, Seb, but I had it all under control," Diana thanked.

"Sure," the driver replied nonchalantly. "Rosberg can be a bit... let's say persistent," he explained as they walked, seemingly aimlessly. "But that doesn't mean he's not a good guy!"

"I haven't said otherwise."

Vettel stopped and looked at the girl. He barely knew her, and although it was true that in the last few weekends they had become closer, he still didn't have enough confidence to talk about certain topics...

She wasn't his close friend.

Even so, there was something she didn't know about her, but that attracted him immensely.

"Do you like Nico?" he asked without hesitation.

"What? No!" Diana shouted, attracting the attention of those around them. "How could I like him? All he does is ask me out, come up to me every time he sees me alone and invite me to his room in the Williams box! I don't want to hook up with him or whatever he has in mind!"

Sebastian started to mock her. Despite being a good girl, sometimes she seemed so innocent that it made the German feel sorry for her. He decided not to continue the conversation because he knew his temper was strong enough to tell him to fuck off.

"Will you join me for the press conference? It's in like half an hour," he commented, looking at his wristwatch.

"I thought Alex needed me to talk to him or something," the girl deflected the proposal. "Anyway, I can't even get in. I'm not a journalist."

"Well, I'm afraid you'll have to pretend to be one."

Diana didn't have time to accept the invitation as the German had already gently taken her by the wrist and started walking briskly towards the room where the press conference would be held.

As soon as they arrived and entered, still holding hands and attracting some curious looks, the Austrian was amazed at the immense proportions of the place. From the outside, it seemed much smaller, but she had before her a spacious and well-lit room, with a long table and five chairs arranged on a platform in the center, where Diana supposed the drivers would sit. Behind it was the Formula 1 logo, followed by a Monza Grand Prix 2008 sign.

The driver and the intern continued walking together, still admiring the last completely stunned at the journalists, cameras and other professionals from around the world present.

"Sit wherever you want, newbie," Vettel pointed to the seats where some reporters were already sitting. "I have to pretend that I love answering questions, and you have to pretend you're the best journalist in the room. Let's get to work and then I'll invite you to whatever you want, okay?"

They both parted with a smile. Wagner proceeded to settle in one of the back rows so as not to attract too much attention. She greeted people around her with a fake smile, trying not to let them discover that she was just an intern that no one wanted.

She watched as the drivers who would attend the press, besides Seb, took their respective seats. Kimi Räikkönen appeared with a serious face, something normal for him; Fernando Alonso exuded confidence, and Lewis Hamilton was relaxed, although alert to what they might ask him: it was only his second year competing, and he had already become one of the candidates to be the world champion of the season.

Vettel, as he seemed to do in any situation, was making jokes and chatting very animatedly with some reporters, receiving reprimands from what the intern knew as his public relations, Britta Roeske.

The event's moderator introduced himself, starting the press conference. Despite already knowing them, he presented each of the drivers present, mentioning their team and asking some unimportant questions.

Sebastian, who was the last in line, seemed visibly bored and acted as such, despite the multiple glances Roeske was sending him from her seat, until it was his turn.

"Now let's move on to one of the youngest on the grid: Sebastian, what do you expect from this weekend?" the curious presenter asked. "And, most importantly, are you worried about the rain?"

The young man regained his composure and approached the microphone.

"I have no expectations: I just want to do my best and not die of boredom until I get my first victory," he commented with his characteristic humor. "Regarding the rain, it's like a surprise visit from your mother-in-law, you know? It can show up at any time, hurt you a lot, and even be uncomfortable and challenging, but you can't deny that it adds excitement," the guy got a bit more serious. "Jokes aside, I think all of us would prefer it to be dry and sunny on Sunday, but rain is also part of the show, and if it comes, I'll welcome it with open arms."

The man, after thanking Sebastian with a look, turned to the audience and opened a brief round of questions to the journalists. Surprisingly, almost all of them were directed at Sebastian, who had become a sensation after his announcement as Mark Webber's future teammate at Red Bull Racing next season.

It was normal for everyone to want to know more about that guy from Heppenheim who showed promise.

"Sebastian, do you think you could outperform any of the Ferraris and achieve a good result for Toro Rosso?"

"I don't know, it could be. What do you think, Kimi?" he laughed, looking at the Finn with humor. "Ferrari is incredible, and Monza is one of their homes. I'm here to compete and try to do my best, so I'll strive for that."

Vettel nodded slightly, thanking in a whisper and giving the floor to a blonde reporter, with light eyes, whose name he thought he remembered being Sally.

"Vettel, next year you'll join Red Bull Racing. Anything you can tell us?"

"The best is yet to come," he replied, winking at her. "I hope to see you then. You know I'm always ready to answer your questions, Sal."

The questions continued, and they were even directed at the other three men accompanying Seb. Some were more technical, and others focused on the driver's mentality or the team's strategies, but that didn't prevent Wagner from getting bored. Throughout the forty-five minutes it lasted, she paid attention and took notes in a notebook she always carried with her because any information, no matter how minimal It was, would help her learn more about that extensive sport. Being there was a privilege she never thought of, so she couldn't waste anything because she didn't know when she would have the chance again.

Time passed faster than she initially thought. When the one who had directed the whole event, named Carlo, declared the session over, Diana remained somewhat mesmerized watching the journalists and photographers begin to gather their belongings and leave the press room, in an orderly manner for security reasons. She thought about staying a little longer, but she ended up succumbing to the pressure, getting up and heading towards the exit while keeping her gaze on Sebastian, who was saying goodbye to his colleagues.

Diana decided to wait for the driver at the entrance, but seeing that everyone, except him, had left, she went to the Toro Rosso box hoping he would be waiting for her there. The girl didn't know what to expect from the blonde, but being stood up after waiting for an hour and a half wasn't among her possibilities.

Although she didn't expect much from the German either. [...]

September 13th  Saturday

Even though the pain Diana felt in her stomach was still quite noticeable, she had to put on a brave face and act as if everything was perfectly fine. She knew there were sick leave allowances even for interns, but the girl didn't want nor could she afford to risk losing it all over a simple stomachache.

The day before, Friday, she didn't take part in the two free practice sessions because a noticeable discomfort in her stomach began to manifest in the early hours. Initially, she attributed it to the disappointment she had felt after being stood up by the German; when vomiting started and diarrhea set in, she didn't hesitate to go down to the hotel lobby, ask for the nearest hospital, and call a taxi.

"I'm afraid to say that it might be gastroenteritis, Miss Wagner," the emergency room doctor informed her after running some tests. "Refrain from your work for a few days and stick to a bland diet."

The cake that Amelie had made for her birthday and that her father had insisted on keeping in the refrigerator for five days, despite being quite poorly made, seemed to be the culprit of her indigestion.

There was barely half an hour left for the qualifying session to begin. Quickly, she passed her accreditation through the scanner as fast as she could, holding onto her belongings tightly, and ran to the Toro Rosso garage as fast as she could, trying to stave off the urge to vomit. She had a terrible night, battling constant stabbing pains and nausea, making her feel like a pregnant woman. If it hadn't been for a pill that had been prescribed to her after insisting a lot, her diarrhea would probably still be continuing at that moment. She clenched her teeth tightly to avoid vomiting right there, and she was grateful that it was raining because her umbrella made her less noticeable.

The moment she saw her workspace, she hurried even more, closing the umbrella and placing it in a stand at the entrance. The looks were already starting to intimidate her, but she didn't feel panic until she reached the area where Alex, Seb's track engineer and, let's say... her boss was.

"Where the hell were you yesterday, Wagner?"

Fiori quickly took off his headphones, leaving them around his neck, and turned to look at Diana sternly. His expression showed a mix of anger and annoyance, and the girl knew that nothing good was coming because this forty-year-old was not particularly known for his empathy and kindness.

"I informed a public relations girl you have around here, I think her name is Martha or something like that," the girl explained, trying to justify herself, "and I also brought the medical certificate. I've had gastroenteritis since Friday morning, and I went to the emergency room. The doctor advised me to take a few days off, but I decided to come today."

The man reluctantly took the paper and examined it thoroughly, looking for any sign that this information might be false. He couldn't believe that a young girl was there; let alone, that he had to endure her.

Although what Alex Fiori hated most about her was that Sebastian praised her so much.

"Are you feeling better now?" the Italian inquired, still absorbed in the medical lines.

"Yes, a little, thank you," the blonde sincerely thanked. "Really, Mr. Fiori, I'm so sorry I couldn't attend yesterday, and I'm even more sorry they didn't inform you. I didn't have anyone else's contact."

The man took the paper grudgingly and examined it thoroughly, looking for any reflection that this information might be false. He couldn't believe that a girl was there; let alone that he had to endure her.

"Let's hope you don't miss again for nonsense like this," he replied indifferently, tearing the paper aggressively. "I need you to be here and fulfill your responsibilities. That's why we tolerate you and pay you every month."

Diana just nodded, threatening tears to escape from her eyes.

"Of course," the girl tried to declare. "I promise I won't miss a day again, Mr. Fiori."

"Don't make promises you won't keep, Wagner," he bluntly replied as he headed towards Vettel. "Now just sit down and stay quiet during qualifying. I don't want to hear you."

The girl felt a knot forming in her throat as she watched her boss approach her pilot. She tried to maintain composure, but it was impossible: she shed a tear easily and wiped them away as quickly as she could to avoid drawing even more attention. She felt frustrated and powerless because she couldn't defend herself or express what she felt in those moments.

She did what his engineer instructed him. She grabbed her headphones, sat a bit farther away than usual, and started watching Q1 on the screen in front of him. It had only been about five minutes, and Alex's comments to Vettel were already resonating in his ears.

"Come on, Seb, you have to try to nail a perfect lap on the first try. We need to secure a spot in Q2."

"Copy," the German replied.

From her seat, Diana could see Sebastian's engineer gesturing wildly with his hands every now and then, upset with any maneuver the driver made. She observed from her monitor the laps he was doing: gradually, his times were improving, and although his performance was not the best, combined with the ineffective car, it was surprising to the Austrian.

"Seb, you're improving," Alex informed him as optimistically as possible. "We just have one chance to complete a lap, so try to concentrate as much as possible."

"Copy."

Sebastian pushed the car to its maximum, hugging every inch of the track without exceeding the track limits. Wagner was amazed, and she could hardly look away.

Fiori informed Seb that, for now, they were through to Q2, although it was still necessary for the German to extract a bit more speed from the car to ensure participation in the next qualifying round by a few milliseconds.

Every second that passed felt eternal for Wagner, who was holding her breath with excitement. Finally, when Vettel moved on to Q2, she could breathe easy. In the garage, cheers of excitement echoed, something that made her laugh because, in reality, he had only advanced about five positions on the grid, not a significant achievement, but a good merit given the ineffective car they had.

After a quick analysis of data and preparation for the Q2 strategy, of which Diana had not been a part but had listened attentively, as if she didn't care, it began.

The girl had heard that they had decided to stick with the wet tires they had used in the previous session. It seemed like a mistake to her because a majority of the other drivers would be using new pairs. Therefore, when they saw Sebastian's times, despite being good, starting to slow down compared to others, they hurried to call him to pit stop. Diana couldn't help but laugh. She wasn't the most qualified to judge, as she wasn't an expert, but if they paid more attention to her, such things wouldn't happen so often.

The girl still had a long way to go, but let's say Wagner saw a few DNFs coming and despite sending direct messages warning, they ignored her.

Maybe that's why her boss disliked her so much.

"We can't afford mistakes, Seb!" Alex shouted over the headset as the German went out on the track again. "You have only one damn chance, so I hope you make the most of it."

Sebastian sighed, possibly a little tired of the man's comments.

"Alex, I know. I'm trying my best."

Diana felt the tension escalating in the box. Bourdais had been eliminated from Q1, and Seb was their only hope. In those moments, every lap was crucial because telemetry warned them that there were only tenths of a second between drivers, making the competition even more fierce.

The shouts continued exchanging between the engineer and the driver, and the girl began to sympathize with Vettel. While she understood the position Alex had to maintain, at the same time, she was aware that he was risking his performance, annoying him and adding even more pressure to the equation.

"You can't just make rookie mistakes at this stage, Vettel! I need you to perform a fast lap. Take advantage now that there's no traffic."

The guy just accepted the order, frustrated with the behavior he was getting from his engineer. It wasn't the first time he had spoken to him like that, but it definitely seemed like his typical qualifying anger was exacerbated by the absence of a certain girl the day before.

Sebastian continued pressing as much as he could, cutting every corner and straightening every turn, trying not to make too many corrections due to the rain, and even overtaking those who were in his way on his lap, even when they were at high speeds and he could risk losing control of the vehicle.

Diana began to feel panic at that moment. He shouldn't risk so much because he could crash or go off the track at any moment.

But we're talking about Sebastian Vettel. Of course, he would try to be the best.

When the session timer hit zero, and the guy crossed the checkered flag, he immediately found himself in the third position. Diana felt immense relief and also a subdued excitement, seeing that Seb had advanced to the final qualifying session.

The path to the pole position was close, and everyone at Toro Rosso was aware of it. Now, more than ever, the Austrian could sense how tense her boss was. The good thing was that his nerves seemed to be under control, as all he did was send encouragement and opponent data to the German.

"Come on, Seb, the pole is yours! Just concentrate and don't think about anything or anyone else."

"Thanks for reminding me, Alex. I was already starting to think about what I would do tomorrow when I won the race," Vettel replied sarcastically.

Diana couldn't help but silently laugh at Sebastian's comment. She didn't understand how, despite the pressure, he always found a way to maintain his sense of humor.

"Sebastian, don't say or do stupid things," Alex scolded him. "We need a bit more time to secure P1 for tomorrow. Hamilton is getting closer to your times quite rapidly."

"I'm trying my fucking best, okay?"

The tension increased with each passing second, and Diana couldn't take her eyes off the screen, following every move the German made on the track. The girl silently prayed, hoping that everything would finally go well for both the guy and her team.

"Seb, the pole position is yours!" the engineer shouted, gripping the microphone tightly as he stood up. "You're the best, you've done incredible!"

The girl felt a wave of joy and, why not say it, relief, upon hearing that Vettel had secured the first position on the grid for tomorrow's race. She was impressed by the guy's skills: it was undeniable that the Toro Rosso didn't measure up to other cars, so this was an impressive achievement and, especially, a reason to celebrate for the whole team.

All team members started celebrating immediately, leaving all their belongings on any surface they found on their way to parc fermé. Everyone was ecstatic, and Diana was no exception. With a smile that covered her entire face, the girl made a motion to get up to join her colleagues and, above all, congratulate the driver on his first major achievement in Formula 1.

Before she could even get up from her seat, Fiori was already in front of her, arms crossed, giving her a cold and disdainful look.

"Where do you think you're going, Wagner? I hope it's not where I think it is. You better stay here. You have no place in the celebration."

Diana felt a bit confused and, above all, hurt by the man's comment. She was aware that she wasn't a favorite among some staff members, including Alex, but the way he belittled her made her feel like garbage.

"Mr. Fiori, I'm also part of the team," the blonde commented. "I would like to congratulate Sebastian on his achievement."

"You don't need to congratulate him, that's the business of the team members, not interns like you. Just stay here and clean everything up. I don't care what time you finish, I want everything to look perfect tomorrow."

The intern nodded with a lump in her throat. She wanted to shout a thousand things at that Italian man who made her feel worse and was, in part, the main reason she wanted to give up on everything she had ever dreamed of. It was clear that all kinds of sexist comments bothered her. The treatment she received, and that she had just received, as if she were a mere servant, made her feel like she was living in Cinderella's story, except that she didn't have evil stepmothers or stepsisters, and of course not a prince charming to save her or, at least, help her.

Hours passed and the rain continued to fall vigorously. Despite this, the party for Toro Rosso did not stop and, as she heard from some people who approached to take their personal belongings, it would move to a nearby bar.

Diana felt a little more at ease when everyone left. Slowly, she went from picking up tools, office supplies and even some pieces of the cars, to sweeping and mopping the floor, ending up cleaning the bathrooms, which seemed not to have received bleach since they were created. It might seem a bit strange, but that was serving the girl to clear her mind and forget everything she had been told and done over six arduous months.

Feeling displaced was an understatement, and she knew she had to do something about it. Her stubbornness and, especially, the fear of losing everything made the Austrian not dare to challenge Alex's authority. She feared that if she didn't comply with what was asked of her, she would be kicked out of her position in the internship program, and an opportunity like that would be hard to come by again.

In those moments, surrounded by the noise of falling drops and the hum of the air carrying a fallen leaf from the trees, she realized she was alone and always would be.

She was the only thing she had in her life, and she had to protect it; breaking down or giving up at the slightest thing was an unviable option.

She had to fulfill a dream and couldn't afford to believe the comments she received every day because, in the end, each and every one of them was a lie.

"Hey, are you here?"

The young woman turned towards the garage entrance and saw Sebastian dressed in a gray team-logo T-shirt, jeans, and a completely wet umbrella in his right hand. His gaze seemed sad, and he appeared concerned for the girl in front of him.

"You shouldn't stay alone here, especially with this shity weather," the driver declared entering the place.

Wagner tried to force a smile, although she couldn't pretend in front of the only person she didn't consider a threat there. Her tears threatened to escape, but she controlled herself enough not to break down.

"I'm fine, Sebastian," the blonde tried to disguise. "Don't worry about me. I just have a couple of things left to pick up, and then I'll head back to the hotel."

"I know you're very smart, that's why I know you know, as much as I do, that you shouldn't be doing this," the guy spat out seriously. "It's not your responsibility: there are people from the cleaning department who take care of it." He approached the girl and embraced her. "You should be at the dive bar we were at, drinking tequila shots and celebrating with the rest of the team that I got a pole position."

"And the first one, by the way," Diana received an unfriendly look from the German, hinting that she should stop making excuses. "Fiori told me to stay here, and I didn't want to intrude on that celebration that seems so important to keep exclusively for team members."

Sebastian felt even worse for the girl. He had heard through his radio everything Alex had said to her before the start of the qualifying, and, even though he was aware that she had been mistreated and belittled by her engineer for a few months now, he now felt very guilty about it. Also, leaving her hanging because he got caught up in a phone conversation didn't help his mood.

"You don't have to listen to Alex. You're part of the team no matter what they tell you, and you have the right to come with us."

"Sebastian," the girl lowered her gaze, trying to calm herself, "I don't want to cause trouble or bother anyone. I'm here to learn and be useful."

"You are useful, Di," Vettel put a hand on her shoulder and lifted her chin to make her look at him, "it's just that no one, apart from me, has seen what you're capable of yet."

The Austrian could see sincerity in Sebastian Vettel's eyes. She was still a little hurt because she had been waiting for him for hours, excited because finally, she could do something different than just going to the hotel, but she knew that there was finally someone who supported her, and, above all, that she wasn't alone.

Perhaps, Wagner thought, she finally had a friend.

"Thank you, Seb... Sebastian, I mean," she expressed with gratitude, correcting herself quickly.

"You can call me Seb. My inner circle calls me like that," the driver explained, "all thanks to my sister Lara. She's ten, but if you saw her with Mick... They seem like two completely different people despite being born just a year apart."

Diana didn't understand much but she just nodded, confirming what the driver had said. She was almost finished mopping the floor, and that meant it was time to take her belongings and go back to her hotel. Tomorrow was race day, and they had to be ready early in the morning.

Both of them made sure everything was perfect and headed toward the exit of the paddock at a calmer pace than they should have. The night was colder than usual, bothering Diana a bit, who was surprised at Sebastian's ability to endure such low temperatures.

Without a doubt, that guy surprised her quite a bit.

"Are you leaving now?"

Vettel stopped a few meters from the girl, looking at her intently. He was heading to the parking lot, and he thought Wagner would too. It was not just a matter of weather conditions, but also the late hours of the night.

"Yes," Diana objected. "My hotel is about half an hour from here. If I hurry, I'm sure I'll be there by ten-something."

"No way you're going to go alone so late," the German replied. "There are a lot of crazy people out there and I don't want anything to happen to my favorite paddock girl before I win my first race."

"Seb, I'm serious," she thanked him, "but I can do it for myself. I do this every weekend, and nothing has happened to me."

Sebastian tilted his head, imperceptible at the words coming out of the girl's mouth.

"No, nothing has happened to you yet," he insisted. "From now on, I don't care what you say or any excuse you come up with, you're going to have a chauffeur and a bodyguard."

Wagner reluctantly accepted her companion's offer, knowing that arguing with him made no sense.

The car journey was enjoyable, and deep down, Diana was thankful that Sebastian had insisted on taking her to the hotel. The night was darker than usual, and the rain had left many streams and puddles of water that were hard to avoid walking. The temperature had dropped noticeably, something she could feel from the cold air seeping through the windows of the BMW that Vettel was driving.

"Thanks for bringing me, Seb," the girl said from the passenger seat. "I have to admit you were right. It would have taken me much longer if I had walked."

The blonde didn't say anything. Instead, he turned on the radio, and a soft melody, the first chords of Viva la Vida by Coldplay, began to resonate throughout the vehicle. Diana, who declared herself an absolute fan of the band, just started humming the song quietly, feeling embarrassed about her own voice.

The driver, glancing at the girl but keeping his eyes on the road, couldn't help but be moved by the scene he was witnessing. He didn't know Wagner well, but he knew she was a girl worth getting to know, and over time, they would become good friends.

"Do you like this song?" Sebastian asked Diana.

The girl just nodded and said it was one of her favorites. Vettel, on the other hand, turned up the volume of the song, which was now at the chorus.

"Come on, sing!" Seb encouraged her. "No need to be shy. It's just you and me."

Diana began to let herself be carried away by the confidence that Sebastian had inspired in her and started singing softly, letting the music fill her. Gradually, her singing voice became louder and more confident, leaving her shyness behind.

"See? I told you, you have an incredible voice!" Sebastian affirmed, utterly captivated by the girl's voice.

Blondie blushed at her companion's comment, but she continued singing enthusiastically. Soon enough, Seb joined the impromptu concert, which, along with the sound of rain hitting the metal roof, mixed with the music and their laughter, created an atmosphere they had never experienced before. They had only known each other for a few months, but at that moment, they felt like they had known each other their whole lives.

The car finally stopped in front of the hotel entrance. Quickly, they were greeted by a valet to whom Sebastian handed over the keys and a tip, which was greatly appreciated. Before Diana could get out of the vehicle, the driver rushed to go and open her door, a gesture that surprised the girl quite a bit. She knew about Vettel's flirtatious side, but the romantic side, not so much.

"Well, thanks for bringing me, Seb. It's time for me to go to sleep because, in case you forgot, I have to be well-rested to see you win your first race."

The German laughed at the clarification, although a bit sad to have to say goodbye to Diana already.

"None of that," he shook his head, "I want to make sure my Cinderella gets safely to her quarters."

The young woman nodded, and both started walking toward the hotel entrance. Throughout the walk to Wagner's room, silence settled between them, and neither seemed to want to break it. They hadn't spent the whole day together, but the hours they had shared had been incredible, and now neither wanted to say goodbye to the other.

As soon as they reached room 374, both knew that the farewell was imminent. Diana, who refused to accept that, opened the door and let the boy in, who accepted without any hesitation.

"Hey, Seb, about yesterday..."

Sebastian felt embarrassed. He knew he shouldn't have left her hanging, but the call lasted longer than expected, no matter how much he insisted that he already had plans with someone.

"Don't worry, Di," Vettel interrupted. "It's entirely my fault, and I apologize. An old friend called me, and I lost track of time."

Wagner took off her shoes and sat on her bed while continuing to listen to the blonde. Maybe it affected him that she had stood him up, but in the end, being so absent-minded, the same would have happened to her if she had gotten caught up in a conversation with her father and her sister.

"What's your friend's name?," Diana wanted to know.

"Hanna."

"Well, Hanna is a lucky girl," the blonde said candidly, ignoring the discomfort the guy was showing. "I bet we all would all like to have a friend like you: you can drive a car at around 300 kilometers per hour, you endure the cold perfectly, and you know more than one language, I wish I could!"

Sebastian laughed, although the guilt of hiding Hanna's true identity was eating at him. He wanted to be honest with Diana, and at the same time, he wanted to continue respecting his girlfriend's wish that no one knew about them, for now.

"But didn't you know more than one language?," Seb wanted to know.

"Yes: German, English, Spanish, and, if you consider it a language, Catalan."

"You're a catch, and I'm tremendously grateful to have you on my team, Di," Vettel asserted. "Fiori and everyone else may be jerks to you, but rest assured that next year, when I move to Red Bull, I'll fight to have you come with me," Diana looked at him in amazement. "No kidding, okay? I've talked to Britta and we've set in my pre-contract that one of the requirements is your transfer next year, with me. I have to talk to Horner about it," he declared, "but I know he'll be more than happy to agree."

Diana paled at that. Sometimes she forgot that her path in the next season was a bit uncertain, but she tried not to think about it and ruin moments like the one she was experiencing now.

She didn't know if she should ask, but Wagner decided to take the risk:

"Would you like to stay here, with me, for a while? We can keep talking or watch something on TV, but if you're too tired I understand if you want to go back to your hotel."

"Are you sure of what you're saying, Diana Wagner?"

"Absolutely, Sebastian Vettel."

Both young people spent almost until the early hours of the morning talking mainly about the race the next day, exchanging some strategies that, undoubtedly, couldn't be taken into account due to Diana's position as an intern. Seb, who had discovered that his new friend was more than just a pretty face in the first days of her arrival, realized that she knew more than she seemed, and many of her ideas were a thousand times better than Alex's.

They continued chatting until, around one thirty in the morning, exhaustion made Sebastian fall asleep on Diana's bed, who followed suit shortly after.

Maybe Hanna Prater would never find out that, the night before Sebastian's first victory, he spent it with the love of his life. His true love. They didn't do anything beyond talking, but they did get to know each other a little more, and maybe they began to develop feelings for each other. Although it was still early to know for sure.

However, there is a very famous saying that is often said, and that both young people in that hotel room had overlooked: never say never.

[ughthisisntright]

Hello There ! 👋😊

May I ask you a humble request ? 🙏

NSFW Silco seducing and fucking Finn's girlfriend please 🙈

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

NSFW below the cut!

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

[theerurishipper]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least he's there in the dream lmao

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

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

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

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

Thank you for your ask!

[idreamofticklehugs]

Roles Reversed

It had been an exhausting week.  You didn’t know why; there wasn’t anything specific you could put your finger on.  You just felt like you had lost your joy and motivation to do anything. Friends had been busy; work was hectic; the weather had been dreary; you just felt… down.  Worst of all, no one seemed to notice.  You couldn’t fault them; you were all too talented at hiding when you were stressed.  People were used to you being the supportive friend, and all of their issues seemed so much more real.  You didn’t want to burden them with your silly little problems.  So, you silently struggled on.  

Until I reached out. 

I hadn’t heard from you in a few days. Things were busy the past couple weeks, and I was guilty of not checking in on my friends.  Obviously, as you were one of my favorite people in the entire world, I messaged you first.  Within three exchanges, I knew something was wrong; things were just… off.  Calling you confirmed my worry.  You tried to hide it; telling me that things were busy and you were just tired.  I knew you well enough to know you were lying.  You even tried to distract me by trying to focus the conversation back on me, slipping into your role of always being the caretaker. For once, I refused to let it slide.  All thoughts of relaxing on my day off vanished without a trace as I gently commanded you to come over after work. I hung up the phone, checked the clock, and stretched.  It was time to get to work. 

You almost called to cancel.  It had been another long day at work and you were tired.  But you knew I wouldn’t take no for an answer, and deep down it warmed your heart a little that someone was putting in effort to be there for you. You pulled up and walked through the front door, knowing I left it open for you.  The warm, inviting scent of dessert in the oven washed over you and your spirits lifted a little before you sighed.  It was probably just a deceptive candle.  Hearing the front door swing shut, I ran to you, gently wrapping you in a tight hug.  You tried not to, but after a couple of seconds, you melted into my embrace.  We stayed like that for a while, my hands running over your shoulders and back as you allowed someone to comfort you for a change. When you finally loosened your hold, I softly smiled at you and brought you to the table.  A stern look and gentle rebuke glued you to the chair, but you were unable to keep from fidgeting.  It went against your nature not to help with anything.  Not that there was much to do, I had your favorite meal already made and ready to eat.  As we enjoyed the meal, I finally convinced you to start talking.  You were hesitant at first, feeling like the things you were dealing with were trivial and unimportant.  Once you started talking, however, you found you couldn’t stop.  How long had it been since you expressed what you were feeling inside? After some much-needed venting, you suddenly stopped, embarrassed.  You made it three words into your apology before I interrupted you. Your needs were just as important as everyone else’s and I wanted to know what was going on in your life.  I wanted to help and care for you. You weren’t allowed to think you were going through this on your own.  

You were pleasantly surprised to learn that the delightful scent you noticed earlier was not just a candle.  Your favorite dessert was baking in the oven and would be ready to eat in just a little while.  I banished you to the living room while I quickly cleaned up the dishes.  No, you couldn’t help; you were being cared for tonight.  Your job was to pick out what movie we were watching.  The only stipulation was that it had to be funny.  You settled on a classic, one we had both seen many times.  After making your decision, you paused and looked around the room with wide eyes. You had failed to notice your surroundings in the dim lighting.  The coffee table had been pushed aside to make way for a blanket fort, which was piled full of soft blankets and pillows.  You could just make out a small tray inside full of your favorite snacks and drinks.  You crawled inside and nestled into the soft comfort, making just enough room for my spot next to you.  The dishes done, I joined you inside our fort, pushing play on the movie after applauding your choice.  As I cuddled close, and hummed along to the opening music, you truly smiled for the first time in far too long.  

The movie was about halfway over and dessert had been very much enjoyed.  During a slow point in the film, I dashed to the kitchen to drop off our dishes and dove back into the fort to rejoin you.  As you tried to help me get settled in the darkness, your fingers curled against the back of my ribs and I yelped.  A smirk slowly crept onto your face.  You hadn’t felt like much of a Ler lately; too mentally worn out even to enjoy something you loved.  I rolled my eyes playfully and settled against you, realizing that it was simply an accident.  You slowly moved your hand down and wiggled a single finger into my side, that familiar feeling coming over you at the sound of my ticklish giggle.  You reached out and pulled me into a tight hug, thanking me for being there for you and for the lovely evening.  Your words trailed off and you suddenly looked… flustered? Realization dawned, and it took everything in me not to giggle at the adorable blush spreading across your face and ears.  I adjusted my arms to lock behind your neck and squeezed you tightly.

 “I care about you so much.  You are so important to me and to so many other people.  You never have to go through anything alone.  We’re always here for you.  And we’ll do anything to make you smile.  Speaking of,” I smiled at feeling your fingers twitch almost imperceptibly as I whispered in your ear, “Would tickling me cheer you up?”

[horanghaeluvsinniehae]

PRE-DEBUT STRAY KIDS X 9TH GN!MEMBER PT.3

Pairing: stray kids x gn!member

Disclaimer: implying that reader is feeling like a burden (big author’s note at the end I’m sorry) (tell me if i missed anything please!)

Previous/\next

That afternoon all of you stayed in the dorm. The boys got permission from their manager to spend this afternoon getting to know you and warm up to each other. You were all happy to have half a day off.

In the dorms you ate what Minho had prepared and after that, everyone gathered in the living room on the sofas. Everybody got comfortable and got ready to relax.

“Jeonginah! How do you feel about not being our maknae anymore?” Hyunjin asked the ex-youngest while playfully wiping his fake tears. Everyone laughed at that and Minho started wiping his tears as well, while leaning into Jisung’s side.

“Oh Hyunjin hyung, you can’t even imagine how it pains me to know that I’m not the youngest anymore.” Jeongin played along too. “Although it hurts me, I have to accept my fate.” He took a tissue and dabbed it under his eyes. “Now that we have officially upgraded Ayenah from maknae to hyung, what do you guys want to do now?” Chan asked amused.

Everyone started to talk at the same time, throwing their suggestions into the air, even though the leader couldn’t understand any of them.

By the time all of you had agreed on what to watch it got dark, meaning it was past 6pm…even though none of you realised, the last two hours were spent bickering over some films. In the end you’ve agreed on Spider-man: homecoming. Minho got everyone snacks and some drinks too. The film started and you were naive enough to think they would be quiet while watching a movie…They were commenting on everything that happened and you couldn’t decide if you wanted to concentrate on the film or on theories, they were actually good!

By the time the film was over, everyone was asleep. Though you woke up after a while, around 11pm. You gathered your stuff quietly, and left the dorm. The walk to your apartment was long but peaceful and you enjoyed the fresh air.

After you got back, you sleepily got ready for bed and while you were thinking about everything that happened today, you fell into a deep sleep.

You felt bad leaving them without saying anything, but they were sleeping so well you didn’t want to disturb them. You know very well how much these sleeps can help while you’re a trainee and you didn’t want to take that away from any of them because of some unimportant questions…

After you texted Chan that you’ll be at the company in 20 minutes, you quickly got ready and packed up the stuff you need for today. You checked if you had your phone, earbuds, charger and some energy bars with you to get you through the day and when you had everything, you took a deep breath and stepped out of the apartment. On your way to start your first day officially, as a member of Stray Kids.

A/n: hi guys…here’s an update after like two weeks?? I’m really sorry for disappearing and even if it doesn’t matter to you guys if I’m here or no, i want to apologise again. I hope that i can get back to writing again a won’t have major writers block like this again.:( i hope this was enjoyable and wasn’t too shitty…please tell me your thoughts on it and if you read this all thank you for your time!<3

Please take care of yourselves and be safe🫂❤️‍🩹

Taglist: @justwonder113 (write in comments/asks if you want to be added/removed)