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A Fairytale Of A Disaster | S.R.

Chapter 1: So Much For Prince Charming?

Explicit - 18+ only - Steve Rogers/Doctor!Reader

Your friend set you up with a perfect guy. Unfortunately, when it's time for you to meet 'Grant' for the first time, he has stood you up. On Valentine's Day of all days.

Was it too good to be true? Or does he instead have a very, very good reason why he's late, and a desire to make it all up to you?

FIC MASTERLIST | AUTHOR MASTERLIST | AO3

Fluff, hurt/comfort, meet-cute, misunderstandings, eventual smut, healthy communication. | Background Sam Wilson/OFC.

Chapter Word Count: 3364 words.

Reader Specifics: She/her, late twenties (a few years younger than Steve in this fic). Training to be a trauma surgeon (has completed med school, in residency stage). Likes books and houseplants. No description of appearance (other than clothes and such), no use of Y/N.

A/N: I wanted to write a Valentine's Day oneshot, and then it turned out it has parts. Oh no. Well, here we are. I hope you enjoy this fluffy little trope collection! As always, thank you for reading, and hearing what you think means a lot to me.

Alternate Universe: The Avengers Initiative continued SHIELD's work after its collapse to corruption. The Avengers are living together in the Compound - Bucky has healed, and Civil War never happened because Tony and Steve worked through their differences like adults.

I do not own anything Marvel related. This is an unofficial fan work. No copyright infringement intended. This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

Chapter 1: So Much For Prince Charming?

Of course Grant — if that was his name — had been too good to be true. Of course he had.

You were never agreeing to a blind date again, no matter the persistence of the person suggesting it. True, Nurse Brooke was a force of nature when she had her mind set on something, but you still weren’t sure what had gotten into you. She’d struck at just the right moment, as you’d been sitting in the dressing room exhausted and elated after long hours in the OR, operating on a patient under the watchful eye of your attending surgeon. You’d been feeling great about your success, feeling like you’d actually be a real doctor one of these days, and that was when Brooke had begun to talk about the friend of the guy she was seeing.

True, it had been the beginning of February, with everyone talking about their Valentine’s Day plans; perhaps all that gooey pink syrup in the air had somehow made its way through your ear drums and into your brain. Even as you very well knew it didn’t work that way, the idea seemed comforting. At least more comforting than the reality that due to your own actions, you were now sitting here, in a fancy restaurant, in a pretty red dress, alone. Subject to looks that had been turning more and more sickeningly sympathetic as ten minutes had turned into twenty, then half an hour, and then finally an hour.

You weren’t even certain why you’d waited so long. Perhaps you’d wanted to believe that somehow this would take a turn for the better. That you hadn’t really gotten stood up. On Valentine’s Day of all days.

“Miss, I am very sorry,” your waitress came up to your table. “But as it unfortunately seems that the people the reservation was made for won’t be arriving; I’m going to have to ask you to give up the table.”

You nodded. Of course; some happy couple was waiting by the hostess’ stand. As angry and humiliated as you were feeling, the last people to blame were the wait staff — gods knew they dealt with enough on a day like this, without you lashing out at them for things that were not their fault at all. Your time here had already included bearing witness to no less than three proposals, some of which had certainly involved the wait staff slipping rings into desserts or glasses of champagne.

“Of course,” you said, digging out cash to pay for the two drinks and the appetizer you’d had while waiting for ‘Grant’, and leaving a nice tip on top of that.

You eyed the bar side of the restaurant as you did. You’d gone through the trouble of getting dolled up and coming here; you’d arranged this night and tomorrow to be free of work, which wasn’t an easy feat to do in the ER. You might as well enjoy some more substantial food at the bar, and maybe a drink or two, before going home and eating a nice tub of ice cream and envisioning dying alone surrounded by houseplants.

Well. Look on the bright side. You were never dating again after this disaster — you might as well get married to your job. And once you were done with your residency and fellowship, you’d at least have a nice pile of money to leave for your plant babies. That was something.

You took a quick trip to the ladies’ room to ensure you weren’t looking as miserable as you felt, and then hoisted yourself onto a bar chair, asking for the menu from the bartender even before you finished sitting down. She slid it across the glossy wooden surface for you, and you dug in your purse for your phone for the millionth time since you’d arrived.

Not one message from Grant. Of course. Why would there have been, after all this time had already passed? Brooke hadn’t messaged either; you hadn’t really expected that she would have, but still. As much as you didn’t wish that her own plans had been wrecked, it would’ve made sense if Samuel, the guy she was seeing, had had to take Grant to the hospital, or something. You thought about texting her, but rejected the idea so as to not bother her. If it had been anyone but the always cheerful, kind Brooke, you would’ve suspected you were being played for some joke; she’d been the one to suggest it. Oh, you know, Samuel has this friend who’s a great guy, a few years older than you. I think you two would hit it off. A great guy. For sure. You needed to ask Brooke if she was sure about her life choices, if her Samuel spent a lot of time around a guy who thought that standing you up like this was all fine and dandy.

The top message chain on your phone was still you and Mr. No-Show, and to add insult to injury, the last message there was you sending a mirror selfie of your outfit for the night, so that he could recognize you at the restaurant. You’d been talking for a few days, and you’d really thought you had been hitting off just like Brooke had predicted, but you didn’t know what Grant looked like. And he hadn’t asked for a picture of you, either — any sort of picture, which at the time, you’d thought of as a relief considering some of your experiences with online dating. In hindsight, that might have been a red flag, but the pink goo that had overtaken your brain had probably made you look at it through rose-colored glasses: this is a guy who wants to get to know me, who isn’t just after looks.

But apparently you’d been wrong. Or even worse, he hadn’t been just a skirt-chaser, but the sight of you in a red swing dress, with your makeup and hair done, had somehow turned him off from meeting you. That he’d changed his mind, even after the texts had been constantly flying back and forth between you, as you’d found every moment in your hectic schedule to reply to him. He’d asked you about your favorite books and you’d rattled off a long list of them; you’d asked him about his hobbies — art, reading, and exercising; he’d told you that he liked dogs and would like to have one one day when he had the time, and you’d responded with pictures of your plants. He hadn’t minded that residency was a wild, sometimes exhausting ride that took long hours of your time — in fact, he’d seemed quite interested in the fact that you’d chosen a career where you could help people, and gone after something so challenging.

He’d been straightforward but polite about the fact that he wasn’t just looking for a casual thing, that he considered himself pretty old-fashioned in that sense. He’d said he was somewhat new to dating but he didn’t want to date — he wanted to find the one for a committed relationship, to eventually get married. He’d told you about volunteering at a nursing home; he’d sent you pictures of the meals he’d cooked, placed on some pretty fancy stone countertop.

And he had actually asked you out to a real dinner once you’d been constantly talking for two days, not texted you at 2 AM asking if he could come over. After you had said that you would be delighted, he’d found the restaurant and booked a table, taking the initiative and the mental labor. He had offered to pick you up — very old-fashioned of him, indeed — and hadn’t made any sort of fuss when you’d politely declined his offer, telling him you weren’t comfortable with that before you’d met him face to face. His last message had arrived over six hours ago, five hours before the time you had been supposed to meet at the restaurant.

I'm really looking forward to meeting you tonight. What’s your favorite flower?

Roses are a classic, you’d told him. In your silliness, you had believed that he would not only show up but show up with flowers, that this guy who had talked about making some of his favorite recipes to you, who had argued with you for over twenty minutes of constant texting on the topic of the best horror movie ever made, who liked to wake up early so he could run in the sunrise and hear the birdsong, was actually real. Of course he hadn’t been, at least not to you. He’d asked all the things about you just to kill time — if he was real to begin with, someone like him was probably drowning in ladies, especially in a place like NYC. He’d just come across a better opportunity.

It stung. It really, really stung, after you’d gotten your hopes up so high. So much for Prince Charming. He’d been a frog like all the rest of them. No, there was nothing wrong with frogs; it was silly to compare a bad person to them. So much for a fairytale — instead you’d gotten a disaster.

In the dining room, another round of applause broke out — the fourth proposal of the night. You clapped along out of politeness, keeping your stinging eyes on your phone. Just because you were miserable, didn’t mean others needed to be.

Half an hour later, you had a nice plate of fish & chips and a nice glass of crisp white wine in front of you; both were doing wonders for your downtrodden spirits. Still, you didn’t dare to look at the dining room, where all the happy couples were gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes and sharing desserts. No point in twisting the knife.

You had exited the messaging app and were browsing around news sites to take your mind off everything. The stock market had gone up and down and sideways and wherever the stock market went; the Avengers Initiative had stopped a potential alien invasion in Antarctica; one of your favorite authors had announced a new book which you pre-ordered immediately; a man was convinced that the alien invasion had been foretold to him on a piece of toast he’d eaten last week; the court proceedings for a high-profile case had begun and were garnering quite the attention from the media; famous people had been doing all sorts of things that someone had deemed significant enough to be news.

Another day in the world. If you hadn’t already had those two drinks, you might have considered going back to the hospital and offering to let some poor soul out of their shift, but now you would have to find something else to do with your evening. You’d spent so much time this week telling Grant about all your favorite things and hobbies that right now, all of them seemed to leave a sour taste in your mouth when you thought about them.

You were just contemplating checking out what movies were running in the theater that was nearest to your home, when you heard a low male voice from behind you, calling your name in deep relief.

Grant. A sardonic part of you remarked that he at least existed. Even before you turned around, he continued speaking:

“Oh thank god, you’re still here, I am so sorry —“

He had arrived; not one message in almost two hours, and he had the audacity to just roll in like that. A part of you knew very well that all sorts of emergencies could happen — hell, the results of those emergencies were what you spent all day every day sorting out. Another part of you, the one that had been sitting here alone waiting, considered dumping your drink on his head and leaving without a word.

You curbed the drink-dumping instinct and spun around in your chair, speaking even before you’d completely turned around:

“You better have one hell of an explanation because you are almost two hours late without as much as a message to let —“

Then you got a look at him: a real look that killed the small voice in your head that asked if he was here now because his Plan A had not been successful. As you took him in, you realized that he might very well actually have the hell of an explanation that it would take for you to let him off the hook after this.

The tall, blond man standing in front of you was still wearing a dark blue, padded superhero suit that had all sorts of grime on it and a tear that looked an awful lot like claw marks on the left side of his chest. The shield that everyone recognized was strapped to his back.

“How’s being stuck closing a portal to another dimension so that nothing invades the planet through it?” he said, smiling just slightly, but you could see the uncertainty in his eyes.

Distantly, you realized that the sweet murmur of muted conversation had quieted down from around you, and even the sound of cutlery had ceased. It was eerily silent. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see that a guy who had been about to get on one knee had stopped half-way and was now swaying in an awkward position. The presence of any of the Avengers in the city wasn’t that unheard of, but the fact that one of them had just barged in like this, clearly coming straight from battling whatever fresh hell this day had thrown at him, was making people gawk.

At him. And by extension, at you, who had been observed enough over the time you’d been here, whispered compassionately about. That poor lady, getting stood up on Valentine’s Day. It turned out you hadn’t gotten stood up after all, and a tiny, tiny part of you was glad that the people who hadn’t been compassionate but had looked at you with that Oh thank god that’s not me, at least I’ve got someone obvious on their faces, were witnessing this now. Such vindictiveness was poison, so you let go of the idea after only a little gloating.

“Grant, huh?” you finally said, a smile tugging your mouth up.

“Among other things,” he smirked.

Grant. As in Steven Grant Rogers. As in Captain Steve Rogers, the Head Strategist of the Avengers Initiative that had kept up the good fight when SHIELD had fallen to corruption.

As in Captain America.

The way people were staring right now, you understood why he hadn’t disclosed his identity before this. Brooke had made some sly comment about how he had a public job so he was quite a private person.

“So, Nurse Brooke’s Samuel…” you said, wanting to thwap yourself on the forehead for not realizing.

“Sergeant Sam Wilson aka the Falcon,” Steve grinned, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, their plans went awry too. I would’ve messaged you but we had to leave really quickly, and I hadn’t saved your number to the cloud, only on my private phone. Which is back at the AI Campus on my kitchen countertop. So forgive me for letting you think I just blew you off.”

Strictly speaking, he probably could’ve asked Sam to text Brooke for your number, but on the other hand, with a literal alien invasion about to happen unless they stopped it, they had had other priorities. You understood. Steve had probably dropped straight out of the Quinjet onto the street to be here looking like that. You wondered what he’d told Sam and the others.

“It’s alright,” you murmured. “I know how it is sometimes.”

You didn’t, not for certain, but you had an inkling that trauma surgery was probably pretty close when it came to all kinds of things suddenly being thrown at you, pushing aside everything else and rearranging your priorities. No matter how much you had wanted to do the previous things you’d thought of.

“You would, wouldn’t you?” he said softly, looking at you. “So let me make it up to you?”

“I had to give up the table,” you said just as softly. “It's a busy night.”

His forehead creased in thought, and you could tell that he was devising a new strategy. His entrance had lacked any subtlety — here, people would just stare at the two of you like you were zoo animals, and even as you suspected that he would’ve stayed if you had asked him, you didn’t want that to be your first date.

Your first date with Captain America, a panicked voice piped up in the back of your head, and you squashed it down. He was just Steve. Steve had been the guy with whom you’d been constantly texting, not the superhero in a very, very impressive stealth mission suit in front of you. He was both, but to his date, he would want to be first and foremost Steve. Getting to know you, and letting you get to know him, before letting you in on his star-spangled secret had told you that much.

“The night is young, Steve,” you smiled at him, making a point to use his name and not the Captain that some different voice in your head wanted to softly roll off your tongue at the sight of him. “Let me just get my food packed to go and we’ll figure out what to do?”

The way the smile overtook his face at that made your heart do a flip in your chest.

“That sounds like a plan to me.”

You barely managed to muster the brain function required to turn around in your chair and ask the bar staff to get your food sorted out.

As you did, Steve stepped closer, stopping to stand next to your chair. If he hadn’t been covered in gods-knew-what, and if you hadn’t had quite an audience, he probably would’ve hugged you for a hello. Now, he instead just very, very gently brushed your bare upper arm with his thumb, sending electric shock down your arm. His hair was a mess, falling onto his forehead, but he was smiling like the sun itself.

“Thank you. For giving me another chance,” he murmured, low enough for only you to hear. “You look beautiful. I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to grab the flowers. I’ll make that up to you too.”

“All the flower shops in Antarctica were probably closed at this hour, yeah,” you smiled at him over your wine glass, and he chuckled at your joke. “I appreciate the thought. It’s alright.”

He grinned. He was standing very close, and he smelled good. There was a hint of cedar-like aftershave and something like fresh air, as if the cold climate of Antarctica had gotten stuck on him, but underneath that there was a musky smell of him, one that made heat pool on the bottom of your stomach.

“How’d you feel if I took you to the compound and cooked something nice for us?” he asked. “If you are comfortable with that, of course. I’d take you out but I don’t think we can find a table tonight and I’m not exactly in a state to utilize one of the VIP rooms we might be able to get to. I’ll drive you back home at night, of course.”

He added the final sentence a little sheepishly, clearly not wanting you to think that he was inviting you over just so you could spend the night with him. You appreciated his thoughtfulness; it might be something he himself wasn’t comfortable with. But on the other hand, if he was comfortable, and if that was where this night would eventually lead… Then you had no objections.

And you certainly, certainly had no objection to enjoying a delicious meal with him that he had cooked himself. You took a long, centering gulp of your wine before you were able to answer.

“That sounds really nice, Steve.”

He met your gaze with a gentle, happy warmth in his eyes. And maybe, just maybe, this night might yet turn into the fairytale you’d been hoping for.

“Then let me call us a car.”

Next chapter >>

#steve rogers x reader #ssf fic: a fairytale of a disaster #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x female reader

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simpxxstan · 1 year

Text

the night shift

pairing: idol!jeonghan x caregiver!f.reader

genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, a little bit of angst

summary: it’s such a surprise what just three months of your life can do to you. it can actually change your life.

word count: 10.3k

rating: 13+

warning: mention of death (not major character). a few swear words here and there. a lot of time skips, i hope it doesn't impede the reading flow!

a/n: i have officially been sucked into the world of svt and there’s no getting out of here! i honestly just got into soft jeonghan feels and wrote this. i’m writing after a very long time, and so much has happened since my last update on tumblr. i’m sorry if i have kept any of you waiting 😭. i will try to update regularly now!

i hope you enjoy reading it!

“Hello. I’m L/N Y/N.” You bowed deeply to the young man sitting in front of you in a wheelchair, a bored expression feeting in his eyes, his blonde hair falling raggedly over his face. A face you were not unfamiliar with.

The man twisted his lip in annoyance and looked at the other man in the room. “Why is she here?”

“Hyung, you had said you’d keep a nurse.”

“I don’t remember, Hoshi. Perhaps, I was under the effect of heavy medication. Because of these fucking meds-” he seemed mildly irritated as he swatted his hand about in the air. “None of these meds are heavy in any way. Don’t pretend you’ve forgotten!” The younger boy whined, and continued, “Jeonghan hyung, the company, the doctor, the members, your family. Everyone has said that this is the best for you. You don’t have a say in this,” Hoshi had stood up to hold Jeonghan’s hands down. “Hyung, please.”

The man in the wheelchair had no option but to become limp in Hoshi’s hold. Flecks of irritation still on his face, he kept glaring at you with the world’s most disinterested look. “One month.”

“Hoshi-ssi told me three months…?”

“No. One month. You work for me, I decide the rules.”

He swiftly turned his wheelchair around and went back into his bedroom.

“He’s moody these days, his mind is really fragile. I hope you understand.” Hoshi spoke to you gently. “Yes, I do. I’ve dealt with more stubborn patients, don’t worry.”

“I’ll leave you to settle down, then! Annyeong!” And the cheery young man left, after bowing his goodbyes.

You had a sense of foreboding creeping into your heart. There was perfect silence in the apartment almost as if you were alone in the entire space. But you knew you were not. How was it possible that Yoon Jeonghan could exist so soundlessly? What if he was actually not- oh god, what if he had passed out or something? You quickly go to his bedroom and knock on the door frantically. “Please, Jeonghan-ssi!” Slowly you heard one breath being released. The door slowly creaked open. The apartment became full of life again as you felt Yoon Jeonghan’s beautiful face eyeing you curiously, like his new found toy.

The first week was a chaotic one, but by the time the fortnight had passed, you knew Yoon Jeonghan was now in your grip. Idle, he had all the time in the world to prank you and tease you, even while being in his wheelchair. Sometimes he would feign memory loss and forget who you were, other times he would ask you to change his shirt after he had dropped some soup on it. If your days at the hospital, where you were interning, were tiring, your nights were even more challenging. He would fall asleep without taking the prescribed medicines, shuffle out of his wheelchair without calling for your help as he should have, and behave just like any naughty kid would. And you had no option but to scold him each time. But you could never be too angry at the man. He would smile the most angelic smile at you, making your veins burst and melt at the same time, your anger dissipating into annoyance into laughter. Eventually you would smile to yourself every time he was successful in his teasing, each feat giving him immense happiness. One successful prank, and Yoon Jeonghan was a happy man.

There were other ways to coax him into submission too. Making him his favourite ramyeon to warm his body whenever he could not sleep in the winter nights. Watching Jun’s new drama with him, and giggling over the kissing scenes, as Jeonghan would give you live commentary on how Jun would probably be behind the scenes. Combing his hair, which was growing longer by the day, into neat braids.

You had, eventually, and unthinkably, fallen into a routine.

“What is it exactly that you do in the daytime?” He had asked you once, while you were preparing breakfast for him before leaving for college. “I go to med school. Then I intern at the local hospital.”

“I know. But that can’t be it. Surely school and internships can’t leave someone as dog-tired as you come home, Nurse L/N.” He looked at you with suspicious eyes, a mischievous spark in his doe eyes. You knew he was going to tease you now.

You had, honestly, gotten used to this, and started recognizing the signs. Before you would cry out in anguish every time his teasing got the better of you. ‘Jeonghan-ssi. I forbid you from speaking ill about my favourite pen. It’s my lucky pen. I always do well in exams I write with this.’ ‘Oh, save heavens I make fun of your dearest pen.’ And he had laughed, all while knowing he had hidden the pen below his pillow. He would give it to you the next morning, a wave of relief flashing over your tense features, extremely nervous over the exam that day. ‘Don’t worry. You’ve studied so much. You’ll do well, irrespective of the pen.’ And then he had the audacity to wink. Fucking wink. After all the superstitious stress he had put you through the entire night.

“Have you ever met any person from the medicine industry?”

“Nope. No people. Some annoying aliens though, prescribing bullshit medicines to me which I don’t even need. And of course, I’ve met you.”

“You don’t even know how stressful med school is. And then, at the internship, they’ll ask us interns to do everything. Right from sanitising the scalpels, to cleaning the floor if someone spills coffee, and the very next moment, they’ll ask me to perform a minor treatment, as if I wasn’t busy polishing the floor right now.” You huffed and puffed as you served Jeonghan the sunny-side-up. He had already put butter on his bread and began eating it.

“Okay, I’ll be leaving now. Your coffee is in this pot. I’ve baked some cookies last night, while you were on that live call with fans-”

“Ooh that’s why the entire house was smelling like dogshit.”

“SHUT UP! They taste very good.”

“Dogshit? You’ve tried? A true connoisseur-”

“Yoon Jeonghan. I’ll put you in timeout.”

“No!” He instantly put on his angelic smile, pouting, his features full of aegyo, and your momentary anger melts. Oh you don’t know what to do with this one.

20 days later, you could feel the wall between you two breaking down slowly. He had become more accepting to having you bossing around the house, keeping it clean and keeping him safe. Although you worked with him only for the night shift, the two of you would often have conversations, aside from the bickering, the nonsense he kept spewing and the teasing, that would actually be meaningful.

“You’re wearing your shirt the other way round, Nurse L/N,” he said as soon as you unlocked the door and stepped into the house after finishing your job.

“Oh!” You dropped your bags immediately and made your way to the washroom attached to your bedroom to change. “That’s why everyone on the subway kept staring at me.” When you returned to the hall, Yoon Jeonghan was sitting in the same way, flicking through his phone.

“You didn’t wear the shirt wrong in the morning?” He cocks an eyebrow, and you blush all over. He had caught you. Clearing your throat, “Umm, well…” He tilts his head, letting the evening sun fall on his hair and making it shimmer. “I had a date today.”

Immediately your veins start burning as he makes his way towards you, a small smile on his lips. “Nurse L/N! How did it go?” he asks you, then doesn’t wait for an answer. “Ahh well. That’s a wrong question. If you’re wearing your shirt the other way round, it must’ve gone well.” Peeking at you, to see your blush spreading all the way to your neck now. “Who is the unlucky person then?”

Argh. Not even 10 minutes into the house and he had started teasing you.

“He’s my friend from med school. We intern at the same hospital.”

“Show me a photograph.”

“Why?”

“I want to see!”

“Why? This is personal space.” You fold your arms, going along with his teasing.

“I want to see if he’s more handsome than me.” Jeonghan declares solemnly, as if that’s the most reasonable response. And when you burst out laughing, he laughs with you too, but continues whining to see the photo. And you have no option but to yield.

When Hoshi-ssi had approached you through his manager to take care of Jeonghan for the next three months till he recovered from the accident that had broken his left leg, you had been reluctant before saying yes. Firstly, you hadn’t believed that such a famous celebrity would be requesting for you, when they had all kinds of services at their disposal anyway. Then you learnt that you had taken care of Hoshi’s aunt when she was very ill and bed-ridden, and the good feedback had flown in from his family. Hoshi’s aunt had been your second patient, your first being your own mother, who had suffered from schizophrenia, before you had lost her two years ago. Although your eyes were still wet from those memories, you had decided to take nursing up as a side profession, to pay for the bills of med school, and put your nursing skills to use as well. Seven clients later, you had landed this job- taking care of the superstar idol, Yoon Jeonghan.

“It’s a night shift. So you’ll have to interact very little with the patient. Through the day, he can take care of himself. We just expect you to keep him company as his… mental state… is really weak right now, perhaps more than his physical state,” the manager had said.

You weren’t a Carat. You didn’t even follow idol groups. You didn’t want to seem like a golddigger, and you knew well that these celebrities could throw tantrums, or even worse, ill-treat you.

But when Hoshi-ssi personally called you, you simply could not refuse. There was something so soft in his voice, laced with worry whenever he spoke about his hyung, you simply knew you had to help this man out.

And you had taken up the job.

The apartment was big enough for you to stay comfortably. Jeonghan was non-interfering in your personal matters, mostly. From time to time, he would comment on your hairstyle, worry about the dark circles under your eyes, suggest a new skincare product, and enquire about your family in all politeness. You had thought the initial courtesy he showed would die down, and then he would minimise his interactions with you.

However, to your great (mis?)fortune, he stayed up every day, even after 25 days had passed, waiting for you to come back home. He would sit at the dinner table, as you made dinner in the kitchen. He would text you, while you were at work, sometimes meaningful questions, other times random thoughts, and even more rarely (thankfully), some photographs. Of his pet rock, of a new parcel delivered home, of takeout he had ordered for lunch instead of eating what you had cooked for him that morning, of himself.

Oh, of himself.

Those selcas were the rarest, and yet you kept wishing for him to send you one whenever your phone lit up with a notification. While you would sit in the break room, eating lunch between classes, you’d wait for it. When hanging out with friends after the internship, you’d wait for it. When your date from two weeks ago, Minho, took you out to coffee, you found yourself waiting for it again.

And when it did, you’d save it instantly. Take a screenshot if it was a one-time view. Stare at it endlessly, sometimes laughing at the filters he would set up, sometimes smiling wistfully into his beautiful brown irises, looking at the camera with odd affection. You knew he generally sent those photos to you to get a reaction before posting them on Weverse for his fans. But somewhere in your heart, you had begun to wish, he would click those photos for you. Not for his fans, not out of boredom, not just to check if his face was still handsome. Just for you.

But that was the least of your problems.

Your job had turned a month old, and you paced about in your bedroom, having packed your bags already, ready to be kicked out. Although Yoon Jeonghan had been fairly tolerable these last few days, one could never understand what went about in his mind.

You were mentally listing off all the things you’d have to worry about now. You’d have to go back to your shitty paid guest room, and pay rent. You’d have to go without the extra cash from this job, barely making enough to eat four meals a day. Only somewhere in the corner of your mind, another little thought came up- you’d have to live without the living breathing caramel sunshine that was Yoon Jeonghan. You had truly gotten used to living with him- as a roommate, of course. Even with his irks and mischief, his moments of vulnerability and his fake aegyo. You had learnt to not dislike him, and now he was getting too close to your heart.

A sharp knock on your bedroom door broke you out of your thoughts. “Nurse L/N? You didn’t come to wake me up?” He says it so normally, as if you’re not combusting with nerves right now. “It’s not 8 am yet, you don’t like it if I wake you up before that.”

He yawns. Lazy, warm, still in his night sleepsuit. His hair messy, his skin looking soft and his lips looking-

“What’s all these bags for?”

“Huh?”

“You’re leaving me?” He starts to pout, making your insides like molten lava.

“I- uh- one month-” you manage to stutter out, wondering if he had truly forgotten or if this was one of his pranks. “One month’s done? Yay! I am two months away from freedom. Nurse L/N, can you please order waffles for me today, I’ve been craving something sweet!” He whirls around his wheelchair after flashing his brightest, cutest smile at you. Left with your mouth open, you already start thinking whether all the ingredients for waffles could be found at home or not.

While you would be away during the day, his members or family would come visit him, to help him dress or bathe. Every other day, you’d see him sitting with a member of his group, hearing their laughter even before seeing them when you entered the house. Sometimes more than one would turn up, and it would be a party.

They always treated you with great respect. Joshua would profusely thank you, the polite charismatic gentleman he was, for taking care of Jeonghan. Seungcheol would ask you regularly whether you were well, whether his friend was irritating you, and whether the terms of work were suitable for you. The days when his members would arrive, usually Jeonghan would switch on live, for his fans. Mostly the lives would get over as soon as you would arrive, sometimes they would continue after you arrived as well, and you’d try your best to soundlessly work through the house so as to not disturb anyone. Contractually bound to secrecy and personally wishing for no involvement with his fans, this was an arrangement suiting you perfectly.

Except one day, when he was doing the live all on his own. You dropped a small glass, and hurt your finger in the broken glass. Almost on instinct, Jeonghan had shouted out, “Nurse L/N, are you okay? Did you break something?” Hearing voice full of concern, real genuine concern, you couldn't help but reply back. “Yeah I’m okay! Don’t worry, it’s just a glass.” “Hmm, okay.”

Cleaning up your wound, you had tiptoed towards Jeonghan’s room, where he was arranging legos while streaming live. Your heart was pounding in your chest, waiting for the call from his company, asking you to resign. Knocking softly on the door, you entered, trying to signal him to not mention you aloud and asking him if the company had reached out to him to announce your dreadful fate.

“Ou?”

Facepalming yourself as Jeonghan asked you in the loudest whisper possible, you gave up. Even if your earlier reply was probably not audible due to the distance, it was so clear now when Jeonghan visibly looked up at you, and asked you, in the most innocent way. “Ou? What are you saying?” You were about to leave the room, when suddenly he introduced you, out LOUD, in front of his fans. “Caratdeul! This is Nurse L/N, she’s taking good care of me! Don’t worry for me. Nurse L/N, please say hello!” By now, you were palpitating. Your phone would ring any moment. Any- “Hello, I am Nurse L/N. I’ll take your leave now, Jeonghan-ssi,” you said, without showing your face on the camera.

But Yoon Jeonghan had no intention to let you escape. “Nurse L/N,” he cried out, with a pout on his face, his eyes shining behind his glasses, “how does my lego model look?” It was a model of some sports car. “Hmm, looks good!” “Everyone!” A smug look appeared on Jeonghan’s face, “This is the first time Nurse L/N has said my work looks good! This is all thanks to our Carats.” Taking his self-absorbed, smiling-widely-till-his-eyes-disappeared moment as an excuse, you left the room. Because another minute, and you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from crossing a line.

You were well into the second month, when the panic attacks started.

They were most likely triggered by the doctor’s report that morning. Jeonghan-ssi, I’m afraid you’ll need more time to recover. Although your femur’s not broken, it’s extremely weak, and your legs cannot support your weight now. Even after recovery, I would advise you to not dance heavily for at least another month.

You had been awoken by a sharp scream in the middle of the night, no scratch that, early in the morning, as you could see the first rays of dawn streaming in through the window. Immediately you rushed to Jeonghan’s room, who slept with his door unlocked for such emergency situations. “Are you okay?”

And instead of the calm fairy you expected, you were met by a ghost.

Yoon Jeonghan was sitting upright in his bed, sweat pouring down from his forehead and arms, his long blonde hair dishevelled, and his chest heaving for air. The worst was over, you reckoned, as you gently stepped closer to him.

For the first time in two months, you saw fear in Yoon Jeonghan’s eyes. As soon as you came near the bed, he reached out to grip your hands. You whispered to him, endlessly rubbing his arms and his back, it’ll be alright, you’re okay, don’t worry, i’m here, you’ll be okay, you’re safe with me, until you could feel his heart rate slow down to a normal pace.

He then looked at you, in such an inexplicably fond way, like-

Like you were his light.

Like you were the stars in his dark night.

Like you were his world.

And you succumbed to the urge of hugging him. You pressed him gently to your body, trying to relay your warmth to his colder body, initially hesitant as to how he would receive your action.

To your surprise, he pulled you in closer. You realised it was his anxiety speaking, his fingers still trembling from the shock. And not his need to be close to you, as your dumb brain hoped somehow.

But then, he kept the hope alive.

“Stay with me tonight, Y/N.”

The entire day, you were extremely distracted, both in school and at work. Fumbling with things, clumsily dropping things, and forgetting important tasks. Yoon Jeonghan had called you by your first name for the first time. This single thought kept spiralling in your head, finding root in some delusion or the other. The entire night, you had spent with him. Hugging him first, then he had laid down and put his head on your lap. And you had stroked his hair, until he was asleep. You had sent a text to Seungcheol, asking him to come and stay with Jeonghan, as you didn’t want to leave him alone like this but you couldn’t miss classes today. He had immediately agreed, and turned up sharp at 7 am. Instead of waking up Jeonghan, you had left your blanket next to him to fool him of your presence, and left the house, leaving the man in his best friend’s care.

Last night had been a monstrous event for the tiny feeling you felt in your heart every time you thought of Jeonghan, which was actually nearly every second. Long forgotten was Minho and his stupid face and stupid voice and stupid pick-up lines. The only voice which sent warm electric shocks through your entire body was the one that belonged to Yoon Jeonghan. You kept texting Seungcheol, asking him for updates, whether Jeonghan had eaten, whether he had bathed, whether he had taken his afternoon nap, whether he was talking normally, whether his blood pressure was normal, so on and on. Even when his replies satisfied you, you were always nervous about what was happening back home.

Home.

Was the house you spent your nights in now home? Was the subway station you had now gotten used to getting off at home? Was the bedroom you slept in now home?

Or was he home?

When you did return to your home, you found the man who had occupied all your thoughts through the day sitting next to Seungcheol, giggling about something on his phone. “Oh you’re here!” Seungcheol says, popping up when he spots you enter. “Hi. I came home early.”

Jeonghan’s smile disappears, and you tense up already. You have no idea what’s coming.

“I’ll be leaving then. He’s been asking for you all day anyway,” Seungcheol smirks against Jeonghan’s little rebellious whines, and your stomach churns in worry. He bows to you, and leaves. Leaving you with the blonde little elephant in the room.

“So. How are you feeling, Jeonghan-ssi?” You ask after a while, breaking the ice finally. He shifts towards one side of the sofa, and you instinctively step forward, wondering if he wanted to get up into his wheelchair now, but he only pats the seat next to him, asking you to sit down.

“I’m sorry for last night, Nurse L/N.” There, back to just a fucking nurse. It was a slip of tongue. “You don’t have to be. This is what I’m here for. This is what you’re paying me for,” you chuckle, but he doesn’t even smile. “But I invaded your personal space-” you lean forward, hold his hand, and say, “Hey. Don’t worry. I hugged you out of my own accord.” “Because you wanted to?” he whispers, and you whisper back, your heart beating in your throat, your voice hoarse with emotion, “Yes, because I wanted to.”

“Can you do it again then?”

Quirking your eyebrows, you realised he’s being dead serious. There’s no way he could lie and tease you with such vulnerability in his eyes. And so you hug him. It’s not as close as last night, but the embrace still makes your spine tingle with happiness. You hope against hope he cannot hear your heartbeat.

When you try to pull away, he lets you, but keeps holding on to your hand.

“I’m- umm, what they call, clingy. I appreciate physical comfort. I’m sorry if you’re uncomfortable. You can move away when you like.”

“No. I don’t feel uncomfortable at all. If you like, we could hug more often. Or you could hold my hand. Or put your head on my shoulder or…” you didn’t want to think of his head on your lap again. You would not be able to control the urge to kiss his forehead and eyes and tiny button nose and of course, the pretty lips.

“But you have a boyfriend…”

“Huh?” You’re taken aback now. What was this? “I have a boyfriend I don’t even know about?”

“That boy, Minho? You went out on dates with him?” He looks confused. You bite your lip, “Oh. No, I lost interest. We didn’t date, at least seriously.”

“Oh," you saw the clouds in his face clearing.

So he was worried about your boyfriend being uncomfortable with a grown man hugging you for emotional support? Jeez. What did he think your taste in men was?

"Can I make another request?" God, what's this tone? You had never heard it before but you could sure get used to it. Pouty-faced, soft voiced Jeonghan was definitely your favourite. As if you could ever say no to him.

"Hmm, go on?"

"Can you sleep in my room today?"

You wish you could say no to him.

“In your bed?”

“No, I think your bed can be shifted to my room? It’ll fit also. It’s a single, thin bed.”

You know it will fit. You also know your room is big enough to fit another queen-sized bed. But when you’re that close, how will you be able to tolerate the distance?

“Hmm. I think it could fit. But I think it’s too heavy for me to carry today… maybe I can ask some help from neighbours or friends tomorrow and set it up in your room? Meanwhile today… I could bring a mattress and sleep on the floor.”

“No!” He cried out. “I mean- you can always sleep next to me.” He smiles, a little angelic, a lot devilish. You know he’s teasing now.

You take away your hand from his, and you can see him begin to whine at the loss of warmth. “On the floor then.”

But yet again, as dawn breaks, he screams awake again, and you notice tears rolling down his cheeks also. He hides his face from you when you sit next to him to calm him down, embarrassed of his tears. You wipe them away with your hands (and not with kisses).

And that’s how he falls asleep again. He lies down fairly far away from you, at least an arm’s distance. But your hand is still in his, and you can’t sleep, overly conscious about drifting towards him in your sleep. You’re content just taking in his beautiful face through the sunrise, drinking up his features like you’re parched, wishing you could put your fingers at each spot on his face, feeling the bone and the muscle and the skin, feeling his breath.

“If you don’t mind me asking… what triggered your nightmare?” You ask him the next morning. Good heavens, it’s a free Sunday after ages, and you had been looking forward to this for weeks now. You had so many plans- ordering food for brunch, catching up on your favourite k-drama, buying a new pair of shoes. But you realised- all of these plans involved Jeonghan. You couldn’t imagine doing any of this without him.

You’re sitting with Jeonghan in the small balcony of his apartment, which overlooks the city almost entirely. It’s a serene view, the sunshine not too harsh, and Yoon Jeonghan hasn’t let go of your hand ever since last night. You hadn’t pushed him too far for answers yesterday, thinking it was a one-time thing. But today, you were getting more curious and worried.

“Ummm… I’m not too sure myself? I just have a lot of thoughts these days.” You stroke the thumb of his hand which lies in your palm now. “What thoughts? Do you miss your members? Your fans?” “Yeah, I do. But it’s not like that just…” You know he’s hesitating, but he’s seconds away from crying. “Jeonghan-ssi. Go on. I’m here.”

After a VERY long pause, he says softly.

“You know how the doctor said I’ll need at least another month, even after this hiatus of three months, before I can go back to my normal self, being an idol.” You hum in between his pauses. “I’m scared, Nurse L/N. I’m scared… they’ll forget me. And even if they don’t, I’ll be disappointing them. I won’t be able to meet my fans’ expectations anymore. They won’t get what they deserve from me.”

“No one deserves anything from you. You don’t owe them anything.”

“You don’t understand,” you can sense his voice getting hoarse and louder. “Fans aren’t easy to explain to- and to be honest, which fan wouldn’t be upset seeing their favourite idol isn’t going to dance well any more? Hell, I’m probably no one’s favourite idol anymore.” He looks away from you, his hand already retracted from yours.

“Jeonghan-ssi. Firstly, if you really care about your fans so much, they most likely care about you a lot too. Of course, they’ll understand. And secondly, have you checked twitter? Or instagram? They keep talking about your health, and look forward to your live videos-”

He smiles, “Yeah, they’re asking about you too.” You ignore the statement and continue, “I understand where your vulnerability is coming from- but you can only improve your mindset by not thinking of the worst case possible.”

He doesn’t say anything. His face is still sullen, dark clouds storming in his eyes.

“Jeonghan-ssi, you’re not that easy to forget, and less easier to replace. I don’t think your fans will forget you so soon.”

He looks at you, his lips pursed in a hopeful trance. You know he’s still extremely scared of the future, but then, who wasn’t? It was only natural to be afraid of uncertainty. You gently pat his head, and ask, “Is one of your band members going to come today? For bathing and dressing you…?”

Frankly, you didn’t understand why they couldn’t keep a full-time caregiver who would be professionally trained to do all the work required. But you had seen Jeonghan’s attitude the first time you suggested this. No. I’m not an object for pity, and caregivers will pity me. Plus I don’t trust them. I trust you, I trust my members. I’m only safe in your hands. You had wanted to ask why he trusted you- was it because he knew you really needed the money and a good place to stay? But you had simply nodded and left the issue.

“No. I didn’t ask any of them to come today. They have a shooting schedule today.” His voice sounded even more feeble. He probably missed being on set with them, laughing as a whole, playing games, singing and enjoying themselves. From the videos of their show, Going Seventeen, which Jeonghan had himself shown to you, you had noticed how solid their bond was, and how comfortable they were around each other, easier than friends, stronger than family members.

“Oh.” This meant you would have to bathe him. Shit.

“I’m throwing my shirt!” “Yeah.” You waited outside the door of the washroom as Jeonghan stripped inside, and threw his shirt through the slightly open door. You had become extremely flustered at the thought of dressing and undressing him, but he had provided a simple solution.

Although you doubted how simple it was, when you could hear him struggling to get his pants off. “Nurse L/N. I think I’ll just bathe with my pants on!” “No! Don’t be a dirty boy. Do you want me to help?” You asked, breathless. “No,” you could hear his sigh, “I’m fine. I’ve got it off. Here, catch!”

Then there was the sound of the shower opening, the slight squeak of a tap, and a tune being emitted by the man showering there. You left quietly.

It was around 3 in the afternoon when you both had finished bathing, lunch, folding up laundry (you) and singing random songs (him), watching one episode of a k-drama (him) and wondering why hearts ached without any attack (you). “I’m going to take you out. Enough of staying indoors. It’s eating into your brain.” You announce.

He almost jumps with you, but then winces. “But where? I don’t want to make a public appearance to collect sympathy and pity.” “You’ll see. You said you trust me, right?” He smiles, “Ayy. Human trust doesn’t go that far.” But you can see the excitement build in his eyes. “It’s a surprise.” “Surprises are not nice.” You tie up his eyes with a blindfold, leaving him no option but to huff and puff and whine and sulk.

But this surprise is nice. Jeonghan’s face lights up like a million watt bulb when you take off his blindfold and reveal him sitting in his dance practice room, all his members standing around him. He squeals in joy, and they all start talking instantly, making it too loud a chaos for you to decipher. Hell, you haven’t even been able to tell their voices apart yet.

The man you know as Channie, comes to you and bows. “I’m so thankful to you for bringing Hyung here. Thank you for taking care of him!” Another man, Seokmin, joins him, and they both smile at you widely. You blush, suddenly caught off guard by the attention, and excuse yourself from the room, leaving the boys to their antics. You text Jeonghan that you’re going to meet up with your childhood best friend, and you’ll be back to pick him up whenever he calls.

But he never calls you back. The members carry him around- they go to some restaurant, eat barbecue and drink a hell lot of beer, and then they drop him home. You had returned a couple of hours back, and when you see three strong able-handed men entering the house with Jeonghan, you take the chance.

“Jeonghan-ssi. Do you still want me to bring my bed to your room?” Although the other three men stare at Jeonghan quizzically, he solemnly nods. Seungkwan asks you, “Are you sure that’s okay with you? I t’s a really weird request!” Mingyu adds, “Yeah, Hyung, if you need her anytime, you can just call out for her, she’s anyway in the same house.” But Jeonghan won’t have it. “Yah, please. Nurse L/N, please.” You sigh and say, “He’s not feeling strong enough to sleep alone. It’s okay, I’ve done this before. I understand the need for physical comfort.” “Are you sure?” Seungcheol asks you, and you nod your consent. Then he says, “We’ll help you bring the bed then!”

That night, Jeonghan slept on his own bed, and you on your own, but he said he felt more relief knowing you were around him. I’m worried for you too, you know. Worried? What on earth for? Nothing, just. I’m feeling over-protective for everyone who matters to me right now. It was safe to say you slept in a constant dream-like state. Jeonghan did not wake up that night, and even if he did, it didn’t wake you up. You woke up only to your alarm next morning, breaking your haze of dusty, autumn dreams of blonde ponytails, flowers in a garden, and a pretty face belonging to the man lying next to you.

Third month in, and you were feeling a little under the weather. Perhaps it was the flu passing around in your college for a while now, but you had been strictly banned from going to the hospital (an order you had cried and begged your supervisor to take back, fearing this was the premature end to your internship, but he had calmly asked you to come back when you were well). Jeonghan, meanwhile, was now out of his wheelchair, and simply walking about using a pair of crutches. He was in a better mental state now, as the nightmares became fewer and less intense, and his general moodiness also dissipated.

But of late, he was being too affectionate towards you. Perhaps it was the reason behind you falling in. His sickly sweet smile whenever you complimented him for walking well, his blush of shy satisfaction when he completed any small task you gave him. One day you stepped into the house and almost screamed before the man sitting on the sofa turned around and showed you that it was none but Jeonghan, with his hair dyed black now.

And dear heavens. That black mop of hair would kill you.

For, if blonde Jeonghan was an angel, an embodiment of sunshine, a picture of innocence, black-haired Jeonghan was all of that but a slight rough edge to him, making his features even sharper and his eyes even deeper. It was all you needed to stab a dagger in your heart every day. Now that you’re stuck at home on a leave for 10 days, you have nothing to do except look at this man, laugh at his antics and calm down the growing anxiety in your heart as to what you’d do after these three months got over and your contract would expire. And even though you never voiced your worries out loud, Jeonghan somehow caught them.

“How many months are left till you graduate?” “About five months?” “Hmm. You can actually stay in my apartment throughout and not go back to the shitty place you showed me pictures of.” You gawk, “You’re crazy, how could I ever do that!” “No I’m serious, Nurse L/N.” You stick your tongue out, not interested in his pity offers. “You know what your problem is, Nurse L/N?” Your face is still turned away from him. “You’re just so stuffed with pride. That’s why you’re not taking the medicines I’m giving you at correct times.”

Oh, how the tables have turned.

“I’m fine.” You stress on every syllable, but Yoon Jeonghan can’t seem to take the hint and buzz off.

And that’s your biggest issue. He doesn’t even tease you as much as he is genuinely caring for you now. As if you’re really his friend. You wonder what has brought about this kind of absurd change in him. It’s not like anything had changed in how he saw you. Nurse L/N.

You were wrong about his teasing nature mellowing down. The next morning, when your supervisor had called, you had been in the washroom, and instead of just letting the call go until you returned, he had picked up the call and introduced himself as your Oppa.

Indigestion just had to hit you that very day.

You had no option but to let your blood boil in embarrassment as you overheard the entire conversation, helpless and frustrated.

“Yes, umm… she’s really stupid. She keeps forgetting stuff, you must know hahaha. No wonder she’s totally forgotten about mentioning me. I’m her local guardian haha.”

You hoped he would clarify something about the Oppa tag. Mention that he wasn’t your boyfriend. Mention that he was your brother or something. Or even an older friend, but in vain. Jeonghan was hell-bent on spreading rumours in the hospital about your love life, one would think.

“Yes! I know. She’s recovering now, I’ve been taking good care of her.”

“Oh no, she doesn’t have any family per se. She just has me.”

“Aaah no no, it’s no like that…” you could hear his voice ambiguously trail off, leaving several loose ends. This must’ve been a question about that-

“Oh sure! Thank you. I’ll let her know asap. Yes, yes tomorrow. Thank you.”

After three minutes when you emerged from the washroom, pissed and stressed, Yoon Jeonghan was smiling to himself while watching a video on Youtube.

“What was that call for?”

“Which call?”

You stare. He budges. “Oh, your supervisor had called. He was asking if you can join back tomorrow. I said yes.”

“Why did you pick up?”

“Why not! Would you rather lose the one chance your supervisor gave you to come back?” He smirks, knowing he had hit your weak spot. “But even then. You’re not my Oppa.” “Huh? I’m four years older than you!”

“Jeonghan-ssi. Just because you’re older than me doesn’t mean you can introduce yourself as my Oppa. Are you dumb or do you not understand the connotations of such an introduction?”

There was a pause.

“What would you suggest I’d introduce myself as? I didn’t want to say my name-”

“Her friend would just do. Or her neighbour. Or her classmate from college.”

“Those wouldn’t have had similar connotations? Any boy answering any girl’s call would have similar connotations, Y/N-aah.”

Another pause. Maybe he hadn’t realised he had called you by your first name.

“Then you should have just introduced yourself as the patient I’m taking care of in the night shift. Everyone knows about that, Jeonghan-ssi. Honestly, anything but Oppa. You’re not my Oppa.”

Before he could reply, you take your phone from the table and lock yourself into your room for the rest of the morning, too overwhelmed to say anything else or even look into the eyes of that dangerous man.

There had been very little conversation between the two of you through that day and the next, before you left for work again. He had tried a lot to initiate conversation with you, weird questions interrupting the silence now and then. But you were honestly too stressed to take any of his excuses and forgive him.

How dare he call himself your Oppa, when in three weeks he was going to simply forget you totally? How dare he even call you by your first name and break the professional formalities that were standard? You had thought the first time, that night, had been a slip of tongue in feverish delusion. This was no delusion. In bright daylight, he had crossed the line and called you by your name.

Although it shouldn’t matter much, you rationaled. Oppa could mean a dozen different things. No one would assume it meant boyfriend.

But oh, you were so so wrong. You knew it as soon as you stepped into the hospital after an extremely tiring day at university, and saw people staring at you. You reached your supervisor’s cabin to mark your attendance, and he too gave you the weirdest looks. The peak of the entire farce was when Hyerin, your closest friend at the internship, whispered to you after hugging you warmly to welcome you back, “YOU DIDN’T TELL ME YOU HAD A BOYFRIEND?!” Aargh.

“He’s not a boyfriend. He’s just the patient I’m taking care of. He randomly messed with me and introduced himself as my Oppa.”

“BUT I HAD NO IDEA HE’S LIKE A YOUNG GUY? I thought he’s a sixty-something fellow, no offence to old men who call themselves Oppa-”

“Yeah he’s a young guy. I told you he had broken his leg?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. Breaking legs doesn't require the person to be old. It was an accident while he was crossing the street.”

“Still! This changes thing, hmmmm” she smirks, and you know where it’s headed. “Being in close quarters with a man only slightly older than you… are you sure he’s not dashingly sexy? Not a sugar daddy type? I could come and help you in your nursing job then.”

“No, and no. He is pretty good-looking, but I don’t care. Now move and let me start my work before boss comes and sends me on a leave again.” Hyerin wasn’t that close to you to know about the deepest secret of your heart. No one except your one childhood bestie knew about it. And you both had sworn on your childhood rings to never divulge secrets.

To make matters worse, you played a voice note sent by Jeonghan loudly, as soon as you got out of the operation theatre. Right in the corridor.

In your defence, he had sent three messages just before and after that, definitely impatient that you hadn’t heard his voice note, saying URGENT!, and you had fallen for the bait. Instantly playing it, without realising your volume was full, you cringed and almost threw your phone away instantly.

Napipopeta piripu pipiretta. Napi-

“You’re watching Instagram reels at work?!” Somehow your supervisor had also come out into the corridor and had heard the voice note. “You know social media is banned when you’re on duty!”

“Sir, I was just listening-”

“No arguments! So irresponsible. You’ll be staying back till 10 pm today, Y/N!”

“Okay Nurse L/N. Enough of the silent treatment. I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be something I’m not… I just didn’t think of the consequences as much. Sorry, please?” He gave you the softest puppy eyes ever given by humankind, as you ate the ramen you had made for dinner.

You hadn’t uttered a single word since returning, just too upset and tired. But now you had to say it. “Was that voice note a joke?”

His eyes widened, “I- I just sent it… thinking your mood would become better hearing it… my fans really like that song…”

You bite your lower lip.

“My boss heard me playing it. That’s why I came home late.”

He stays silent for a minute. “I’m sorry if it got you into trouble. I just thought…”

And out of spite, just out of spite, and pent-up emotions spilling over, you say the worst thing ever.

“Your voice can never make my mood better, Jeonghan-ssi.”

Something had snapped between the two of you since that day.

You had tried to build up a wall between you two, trying to keep distance that you felt was necessary to get your heart used to what was just coming within two weeks. He tried to break that wall, going out of the way to be with you, even helping you study for an exam coming up. He was needing lesser and lesser care by the day, as he regained strength in his legs, and was quite determined to live by his old habits. He would leave the house without waiting for your support, he would cook sometimes, he would also do the laundry.

He did everything to make you feel lesser and lesser wanted in the house.

And you really took the cue. You started minimising your interactions. Even sleeping in the same room became too difficult for you, and you spent many hours on the couch before going to your bed, waiting for him to fall asleep. You would limit conversation to the necessities, taking all possible steps to reduce his dependency on you.

“Why are you doing this?” He asks you, one night, after you both had lied down in your beds but it was obvious that sleep eluded you.

“What?” You whisper back, hesitant. “This. Becoming far away from me.”

There are massive pauses between your replies, and you can hear him holding in his breath through the entire pause.

“You anyway don’t need me much. It’s only best if I move away from you.”

“Physically perhaps- but I thought we could be…”

“Hmm?”

“Friends. Are we not friends?”

Friends. You had stopped wanting to be friends for a very long time now.

“It’s not possible. You and I belong to different worlds, as cliche as it sounds. We can’t be friends.”

“Why not?”

“Have you seen how your fans have taken to stalking me on my social media? I’ve had to delete my accounts everywhere. If they find out who I am, they’re not just going to kill me, but the contract and all the payment I got from this job will be forfeited.”

“Kill you? Isn’t that too extreme?” You can hear him shuffle closer to your end in his bed, his voice closer to you now.

“They’re going to brand me as a golddigger. And even if they don’t kill me, I’ll definitely kill myself then.”

“There, again you and your pride.”

“You’re laughing at my self-respect?”

“No, I respect it. Not many can be so stoic.”

“Goodnight, Yoon Jeonghan.”

“Nurse L/N.”

You don’t want to reply. You pretend you’re asleep.

“Y/N-aah.”

You know he’s heard the change in your breath and he continues. “There are really just six days left?”

“We can reduce it if you like.”

“Can you not be so snappy? It’s really not funny anymore.” He sounds agitated, his voice on the verge of breaking.

“Are you really saying this to me? Why do I have the responsibility to make it seem funny? You have a problem with me having real emotions too?”

“I never said I have a problem with anything. But this attitude of yours is, frankly, uncalled for, in my opinion. Or you’re not telling me something I should know. And this is bothering me.”

Another pause before you reply.

“I’m going to leave in six days, Yoon Jeonghan. You better stop being bothered by me.”

You don’t know what’s come over you. Suddenly you can’t breathe in the house anymore. You don’t even want to call it home these days.

Ever since that conversation, Jeonghan had stopped putting in as much effort. You had far overstayed your welcome, and he really needed you to be gone now. Maybe get a girlfriend to visit him. Must’ve been sad without sex for three months for him. Your heart ached every morning when you saw him as soon as your eyes fluttered open- an angelic face, his mouth slightly parted open as he slept in his dream world. You wanted to kiss him (honestly every minute nowadays you did, even if you burnt yourself up, that desire did not disappear.)

It was a crush, you convinced yourself. Finals were coming up, you’d get busy, you’d forget about him. Easy peasy. And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to delete the little gallery of pictures you had formed in your phone- including photos he had sent you, photos of him that you had taken, and the three photos of you two together.

The first had been clicked on the night when he had let go of his wheelchair and first taken up the crutch. Many of his bandmates were there, and they had all cheered loudly. Because you had been standing right next to him, holding his arm to stabilise him, Wonwoo had clicked a photo of you too right at the moment when he was looking into your eyes with the joy of letting go of the wheelchair, and you were looking right back at him. It was a coincidental photo, and a photo meant to be only of Jeonghan, but you kept smiling when you looked at it. It almost gave the illusion that it was … for lack of better words, a photograph of affection.

The second was a selca. Correction, it was Jeonghan’s selca, which he had clicked without you even knowing, so you were obliviously watching the drama on the television, eating ice cream. He had even posted it on Weverse, blurring you out obviously. But his fans had caught the second hand in the photograph, zoomed into it, and somehow figured out it was a female hand, and then conducted several polls amongst themselves whether it was his girlfriend, his sister, his mother, his friend or his nurse (how would they ever know though?). The results of the poll had been varied, and some had even claimed: guys we don’t know if the nurse and the girlfriend are different people hehehe you know what i mean!! Ugh, these conspiracy theories.

The third one had been the most recent one. You were on a video call with your childhood friend, and he had just entered the room without knocking. He had said hi to your friend, who had smirked and giggled and tried to make suggestive comments until you winked at her to shut the fuck up. Finally he had left after asking you some really redundant questions, making you wonder why he had even entered your room. Your best friend had taken a screenshot of the two of you talking, and she had practically squealed over call god, he’s so handsome!!!! And he’s so in love with you!!! Did you see how he was doting on your face with every word you uttered?! AWWWW! Y/N, I’d say wife him up immediately!

You had laughed then, and you laughed at it now. Every time you scrolled through this secret gallery, you had nothing but a fond smile tugging at your lips, no matter how distant you wanted to make yourself from the man, who had slowly, but surely, taken up all of your heart, and was showing absolutely no intention to leave.

You packed your bags and stood in front of the door, waiting for Jeonghan to bring whatever he was looking for in his bedroom. He had vehemently protested against you helping him, and as a result, a search that could’ve been completed in seconds, was now taking minutes.

Eventually, he appeared. He had a bag for you in his outstretched hand, and you silently took it from him. Peeping in, you saw everything was wrapped with paper. “What’s this for?” “Thank you, Nurse L/N for taking care of me.” He smiled, continuing, “I don’t know why you’re angry at me. But I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you in any way. Please accept my gift.” Your heart was melting with each step he took towards you, eventually so close that you could see your reflection in his eyes. It was too close for you to breathe, but you realised you wanted to get used to this proximity.

“Thank you, then. Jeonghan-ssi, you’ve been an excellent employer these past three months. Thank you for taking good care for me, as well” and you lightly bow.

“How do I see you again?” You’re stunned. Why does he want to see you? “Do I have to break my leg again?” his whispers grow ragged.

You try to crack a joke, “Or you could break an arm,” but he doesn’t smile. He seems impatient for an actual answer. “Or you could call me. We can hang out once every couple of months, if you’re free. Or you could just… you know, call and talk.”

He wants to say something, but your phone begins to ring. Your best friend must have arrived downstairs to give you a ride to her house. You had decided to stay with her for the remainder of the university term.

“Goodbye, Yoon Jeonghan-ssi.”

“Goodbye, Y/N. I’ll miss having you around.”

You don’t believe him. You think he’s just being nice. But oh, somewhere deep down, you hope it’ll be true. You smile at him, tight-lipped, but genuine. He doesn’t smile back.

And just like that, you’re gone.

The next month, you don’t hear from him at all. Your internship has also ended, and you’ve started studying hard, applying to various specialisation courses, and basically trying to forget him. It works, frankly, because with your closest friend around, you have your mind on other things. Such as her extremely toxic situationship, which she doesn’t even realise is harming her, but you keep warning her to step off. Such as her mother baking cookies for you as winter sets in. Such as visiting your own mother’s grave once every week, to give her flowers, a new ritual you’ve set up.

It’s on one of these bus rides to the park which has her grave that you cross the hospital where you had your internship. And you spot, your eyes instantly going wide, a certain familiar someone standing at the bus stop right outside the hospital.

You’d have recognised him from miles away. Even if it’s really late in the evening, the twilight setting in, you can recognise him.

You want to look away and continue the ride to the original destination. You want to ignore him. You want to push away the thought of him waiting (for who?) in front of the hospital where you worked at while staying with him.

But you can’t. You immediately step out of the bus, paying your fare, and walk up a little bit to reach the spot he’s standing. He’s looking the other way so he doesn’t really notice when you come and stand behind him. Until you cough a bit.

And you’ve never seen Yoon Jeonghan smile this brightly before. Never. Not while you were in his house, not even in the videos of him that miraculously come up on your Youtube algorithm now.

“What are you doing here?” you don’t know why, but your voice cannot go beyond a whisper. In the empty streets after dark, he can hear you clearly though.

“You came.” he whispers back.

“You were waiting for me?”

“Who else would I wait for in front of the hospital you worked at?”

“I don’t work there anymore. My internship is over.”

“So I heard. But I had no idea where you live now, and apparently it’s not safe to go to your university if I have to keep you a secret.”

“But waiting in front of a hospital in the dark is safe?”

“It’s a hospital. No one is looking at me here. I’m not the important person here, for anyone.”

You can’t help but say, “You are, for me.”

The stars are out, the cars are flashing by, and you’re walking alongside Yoon Jeonghan on a silent road. Sometimes your arms brush, sometimes he smiles too much for your heart to take, sometimes you look at him for so long that he breaks eye contact. For once in your life, you don’t want to overthink this. Even if tomorrow you wake up and realise this was a dream, you want to live the best dream of your life till the end.

“Hey,” he whispers when you zone out. You’re standing under a streetlamp now, the smell of flowers from the trees around you filling the air. You’re 100 metres away from a tteokbokki stall, and you want to ask him if he wants to eat some, but he holds your hand at that moment.

“Y/N.”

“No more Nurse L/N?”

“You’ve stopped being Nurse L/N for me for a long time now.”

Your heart stops. He grazes his thumb over your pulse point. You think you’ll combust.

“Your palm is sweaty, Y/N. Are you nervous?”

How can you not be when he’s right there, in front of you, so close… but still so far? You don’t know how you landed up like this, after an entire month of avoidance, but knowing that he came every evening to look for you in front of your hospital, waiting till the shift was scheduled to get over, has melted your heart beyond control.

“You’ve cut your hair again.” You finally say.

“Is it looking nice?”

“Hmm… makes you look sharper.”

“Huh?” His eyes are becoming wide now.

You take your other hand out of your pocket and touch his hair with a featherlike touch. “But it’s still so pretty. You won’t cut me, will you?”

He smiles, and leans in, and you can sense him breathing you in. You must be smelling like sweat and grime by now but he doesn’t seem to care. Eventually he places his chin on your head and time has stopped. You can’t help but snuggle into the warm cavity of his body, gently placing yourself against his strong chest, as you can feel now. And somehow, his hands leave yours, and wrap themselves around your back.

It’s a hug.

And then it’s a kiss on your forehead. A kiss on your scalp. And a kiss in your hair. And you snuggle deeper and deeper into him.

He pats your hair gently, and you mumble into his chest. “What took you so long, Hannie? Why didn’t you come to me sooner?” it’s half feverish you know, you don’t even expect him to reply. And yet he does.

“Oh, but Y/N-ah, I’ve been coming to you forever, why did you keep pushing me away, baby?” And you spread your hands around him too, pulling him deeper, until you’re both too squished, and have to move apart for air.

But only a little bit, just enough so that you can see his face, and he holds your face in his big palms.

“Y/N-ah. Do you want to come home with me? I want to watch a new episode of the k-drama with you. I’ve really fallen behind it without having you to watch with.”

You smile, his eyes glitter up with the reflection.

“Of course. But only if you promise to hug me more.”

“No. No more hugs. Can I kiss you?”

You suck in a deep breath, lips parting already, at the wonderful tingle going through your body. You could cry right now, with the time he takes to move in and place his lips on yours gently.

And you do cry. One stray tear escapes your closed eyes, and he kisses that away too.

“Hannie…”

“I’m yours, Y/N-ah. If you’ll have me, forever yours.”

“Of course I’ll have you.”

“Sorry if I kept you waiting for long.”

“It’s okay. You’re worth the wait, anyway.” You smile as you press a kiss on his nose, his little button nose you’ve always found cute. You stand up on your toes and kiss his eyes and his eyebrows and his forehead, but then he stops you. “Baby, let’s go home and then you can kiss me?”

How can you ever say no to Yoon Jeonghan? How could he even think that you’d say no?

“Of course, Hannie. I love you.”

“And I love you, baby.” Another kiss on your lips, and you know you’ve seen heaven. Because if Yoon Jeonghan isn’t the equivalent of heaven, you don’t want to know what is.

#jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #svt #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt fluff #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan x reader #seventeen jeonghan #seventeen fanfic #MY FIRST SEVENTEEN FIC LESSGO #svt my heart #the night shift

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tranakin-skywalker · 10 months

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Fuck it, fic rec list time!

I'm bored and can't sleep so here's a non-exhaustive list of some of my favorite Star Wars fics. I'm leaving the really well known ones off, wanna share some of the more obscure gems.

Not Placid Stars But Singularities by iceplanet

He stands before Sidious, head bowed, helmet pinching at the back of his neck where he hasn’t yet gotten the med droid to file down the sharp edges. Sharpness is another fact of life, now: the feel of metal digging into flesh defines his every motion. Given the time and the opportunity, he himself could probably have built prosthetics better than the ones he currently wears. “Your task, Lord Vader,” Sidious is saying, “is to transform this heap of antiquated softness into a palace worthy of our new Empire.” In the weeks after Mustafar, Vader must come to terms with his new body and the remnants of his past. In the process, he has a few conversations that he does not expect.

This one has everything I love: ghosts, mutilation, Vader being the saddest wettest murder meow meow, Sith Lord batshittery. What fun.

Skin Graft by HENST33TH

“ I hurt you.” killed her, Vader's stomach roiled. Bile clawed at his throat as he looked at her. He wasn't making any sense. Her face softened some. “ Dreams…?” she said. Padme thought she understood. It was sick, it was corrosive. He was unfaithful. For twenty years he was unfaithful. He hurt her children. He needed to spit it out. Explain. She deserves it. She needs to know. Vader needed to crack himself open. Padme needed to tear him apart. For her safety. He got out of bed. Twitching with the need. Shaking with the pressure inside of him. Taught like a noose. He stood before her. She placed her hands on his arms. “Then what, Anakin.” Anakin, Anakin, Anakin. Vader sank to his knees. Resting his head against her middle, he breathed. The shame clung to him and coated his throat till he was choking on it. “It’s so much worse than that.” all at once the future loomed over him. Daunting, a beast of its own. How can he explain it? *** Or, Anakin Skywalker gets thrown back in time. He has to learn: 1 how to have a body again 2. To curb his Raging insecure attachment style. 3. That his wife should be the one making the important galactic decisions.

A newer fic that I am quickly becoming obsessed with. The way it's written is perfect. The characterization is perfect. Everything about it is perfect imo. And the ending of this latest chapter. Masterpiece. I want 10 more.

Nameless, On the Edge of Nowhere by Taxonamie

Following the presumed death of the evil Emperor and his hulking henchman Darth Vader, the fledging Alliance stands on the verge of victory! But as they press their advantage against a destabilized Empire and manifest from the seeds of Rebel resistance, can this new government survive their own instability? Among the scattered Imperial forces of the second Death Star, Darth Vader's disapparence is not so final as they would hope. Worse yet, the Rebel Hero Luke Skywalker has gone missing! Alone and disadvantaged, what will Anakin Skywalker do to find his son? Will he walk the razor's edge of tentative alliance with the Rebel Forces, or succumb to the draw of Imperial power? Free from all Masters, can Anakin Skywalker learn who he wants to be, at last? Princess Leia Organa must navigate this minefield of clashing obligations and dripping grudges, all the while attempting to understand a heritage she hates, a brother she loves, and a mysterious mother she cannot understand.

I think this fic is the most successful at bridging the gap between Prequel Anakin and OT Vader that I have ever read. They genuinely feel like a continuation of the same character here rather than a disjointed Before and After.

trust displays by AshToSilver

Rex meets Luke and Leia for the very first time the night they are born.

I love how sweet but also horrifically fucked up this one is. Cannot express how much this fic has influences the way I write the clones.

in morsum ardeo by astarsdarkheart

A fallen Jedi and Lord of the Sith burns in a pyre on the banks of a river of fire. Something else rises from the ashes.

This series rewired my brain. Like, holy shit. Holy shit. I don't think I could ever actually choose a top favorite fic of all time, but honestly? This one makes a strong case for itself. It has haunted me every day since I first read it over a year ago.

Forever War by yujacheong

Vader has trouble distinguishing between the past and the present. Fortunately, it rarely matters in the context of the Empire's forever war.

Love me a good Vader character study.

this place loves what it eats by roadtripexpert

What could be called but isn’t death, or Leia Organa doesn't kill the man formerly known as Anakin Skywalker

I know I've already recommended this one but it is just. So fucking good. The note from my bookmark: Father-daughter roadtrip results in about as much murder and bitching as you would expect.

relieved to live in the wreckage by niniblack

When Obi-wan doesn’t follow Padmé to Mustafar, she’s able to convince Anakin to run away from everything with her. But this doesn't prevent his nightmares from coming true, and he's left alone in a hostile galaxy with the infants she begged him to protect. “Master Anakin,” Threepio says, still hovering in the doorway. “Might I suggest bouncing the children?” Anakin stops pacing around with the twins, head swiveling to look at Threepio. He doesn’t have to ask what the fuck Threepio is talking about; Artoo does it for him. Threepio seems to draw himself up as straight as he can. “I have conducted extensive research on the subject of human childrearing in anticipation of Mistress Padmé giving birth. Holding an infant and gently bouncing them in the parent’s arms is thought to be an excellent calming method.” “Oh,” Anakin says. “I thought you meant… bouncing them on the floor or something.”

The note from my bookmark: Single dad Anakin. Congratulations buddy, no one's ever done it worse.

Send the Whole Damned Thing Down the Drain by handstitchedanarchist

“Are you a conscripted soldier or a battle slave?” General Skywalker asks him one day. Rex thinks about it. And then thinks about it a little longer. And then he has to admit, “I’m not sure what the difference is.” The general looks distant and… sad? “Yeah, me neither,” he says.

This is another one that has greatly influenced the way I write the clones.

Gonna end the list here cuz my meds are starting to kick in and I feel like I'm going to fall over

#fic recs #pretty sure i only picked fics with less than 1k kudos #some of these are criminally underrated #not going to think about what this list implies about me lmao #there is definitely a running theme with the fics i chose

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notthatnoodle · 5 months

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Tombstone Redemption

~Van Der Linde Gang meets the Cowboys~

”Gentlemen! May I simply ask you to listen to my, proposal.”

”Hear that, boys? We’re going to have some fun tonight, shall we!”

~~~~~~~~~~

And my dumb talk about cowboys, mental health, and me being so unsure of my drawing skills. Buckle up cowboy, it's going to be a long one.

~~~~~~~~~~

Do you know that feeling, when you have an idea. And that idea is something that scares you? Because I do, too clearly if one may say.

I wanted to do something. Draw something that I would be proud of. But how to do that when you just hate everything you do, when it feel overwhelming to do.

Well, just trying to do it. Just trying to enjoy the journey and the things I'm doing while on it.

It was scary to start, but I still had a plan for it, you know.

Something big, scary.

"This is never going to look good. It's going to be terrible."

"It's going to take so long, it's going to look stupid."

"I already hate it."

That's what I thought at the time, while doing the sketch.

And you know what...

I did. But after days of just doing the lines again and again, it finally got better. After DAYS. For me it might take weeks before I can continue working on something which looks bad in my eyes.

I hated to do the line art first, I hated to do it, so much that I almost gave up because it already, alone, felt overwhelming. I didn't like it one bit. The characters didn't look like themselves, and I wasn't happy. No one has any idea how long it took to do it.

BUT i finally did it. I got flat colors done. And from there, I could finally move to the next part. And I was so happy how it turned out, it gave me hope, feeling of success.

"I can do it."

"I can do the next part too."

I was in halfway now, the RDR2 side was ready, except the lighting and the shadows of course but anyway. To get myself to do the rest, I asked myself...

Why I do this again?

And the answer to that was surprisingly simple.

I do this because even it feels so overwhelming at times, I love to do it. I love to see what I'm capable of. I love to draw, sketch, do things like that.

Because it helps my mental health.

Because I need to get my inspiration out to a paper.

Because I love westerns

Because RDR2 became my comfort game.

Because Tombstone became my comfort movie.

Because I have no money to travel to the other side of the world to a meetings or something. I have to create my own "meetings", in a way of an art.

Because both, RDR and Tombstone, have helped me in the past year, in the ways I never imagined would be possible.

Who would've known long time ago that I wouldn't need any meds in couple of years because some sad, rough, cold, unstable cowboy men, huh?

I've heard so many times that people have called comfort characters "cringe" or "weird."

And that "you should get real help."

Well, I did. I had that real help, but beside the medication that helped, I just couldn't find anything to talk about with the professionals.

I never personally have liked talking (but it's still good, try it) and I've always used art and writing to get all my feelings out. Tbh, it haven't helped the situation that I'm terrible at recognizing my own feelings.

And, well.

If anyone would've said back in 2020 that "In couple years your mental health is going to get better because of Arthur Morgan and Johnny Ringo" I would've been so confused.

"Who??? Where??? When???"

The two most mentally stable men in the universe, right?

But you see, here we are. Still trying to decide do I hate my art or not. But even still, it's finally on place where I dreamed it would be when I was 14 years old and could only draw poor dogs and cats.

I may not feel like it, but I try to remind myself many times in a day. That this is what I wanted, this is what I worked for.

The progress has been slow, but it's still showing up. But I want to get better, I want to draw even more better, to get more realistic or something. I'm not even sure myself. Can you believe it? 10 years of drawing and I'm still not sure what I want my style really to be, other than somewhat realistic.

The progress is slow, but it's here. The mental health and drawing skills are both growing even I may not admit it to myself. And I still want to get better.

There is going to be bad times, there is always going to be bad times, those are never going to disappear. But what also is not going to disappear, is my passion to my art. To the characters, to the world they live in.

It's surely going to stay a big part of me, even it may fade in some point. But it is still there, a part which shows what helped me get back up.

As a reminder to myself how I got better. And that healing journey isn't in the end. Is only just begun.

It's a journey I'm afraid of, excited, curious, terrified...

But it's going to be amazing, hard, I'm going to hate and love every second of it.

And that's good. It means I've finally managed to dig up my closed emotions.

I may be able to know what I feel for the first time in years. I might be able to feel something that has been hidden away since forever.

And all that just because of some Cowboy Depression Simulator and the movie with the Cowboys and tuberculosis.

Seriously, they both end almost same way and managed to broke my fucking heart while doing it. And still they are probably the best things that have ever happened to me.

What I learned, what I thought while doing this art and thinking it's meaning... Only person you can let down in this planet is yourself, and only person who really knows everything you've done to get back up, is yourself. So, give a hug to you, give a tap to you, give a hamburger to you or something.

The good begins before the bad things end.

So go kick this day to the balls or something, somewhere where the sun doesn't shine, get it all back to yourself.

Carpe diem and have some FAITH to yourself...

Because you really don't know how good the light of tomorrow morning could feel.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. I believe in y'all.

~~~~~~~~~~~

-Setri.

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ya-zz · 1 year

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👁👄👁 I have a request. Ramattra non-con fic and I'll make it darker. Fem!reader believes Omnics are just bots (aka don't have feelings, wants) and when she meets Ramattra she spits out that he's just a machine to follow her commands, so he fucks her instead?

Draft it and edit it, figured it out- ANYWAY, apologies this took awhile! But here we are! ♥

Hoping no other requests get ghost deleted... I have them all written down anyway.

Ramattra x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1891

Warnings: EXPLICIT NON-CON

You were there before the uprising, watching on as omnics slowly grew in numbers, completing everyday tasks that humans could already easily do. They were machines made to follow commands and not one had emotions of their own. They simply followed their programming, whether that was cooking, cleaning, serving guests. Omnics were basically slaves to mankind.

That was until the uprising happened. Omnics all over the world began having their own thoughts and feelings. They were sentient, and many fought to keep that. Lives were lost, both human and machine, and before long, omnics were mixed in with human affairs, living day to day lives much like any other species would.

While many accepted it, you did not and everyone knew that. It’s probably why many people avoided you, but to hell with them, right? Machines are meant to work, humans are meant to leisure. Omnics don’t have wants or needs, they don’t have their own emotions. That was something you had believed and stuck to.

That was, until you pissed off the wrong omnic.

Ramattra arrived at the base some weeks ago, however you were mid mission, not aware there was a new visitor among fellow colleagues. He already had a room made up for him - one fitted with a bed, not that he needed it, a desk for his private workings as well as a wardrobe for his cowls and assortment of clothes he rarely wore.

He had heard the stories of your disdain for omnics, and hatred coursed through his wires. While he had somewhat grown to be more friendly to humans, he had already begun hating you, and he hadn't even met you. He had heard stories of how you had mistreated omnics, and he knew that you would never accept him for who he was. He was determined to prove you wrong, but he knew that it would be difficult.

There was a tension in the air around him whenever someone mentioned your name, that anger rising within him more. You were a threat to him, a target for him to eliminate one way or another.

When you returned, hands fumbling with the reports you finished on the ride back, you handed them over to the commander before heading straight to your room. Throwing the bag on the bed, you flop down next to it, groaning at the achiness in your shoulders and back. It was a tough mission, but one that was successful nonetheless.

You did your job and that’s what mattered most. While you were suffering a few bruises, scrapes and a shallow wound to your arm, nothing major happened to warrant a trip to the med bay. It was almost a perfect no casualty mission, until one member suffered near fatal wounds from a nearby explosion. It was something that made you freeze for a moment before picking yourself back up and continuing the task at hand.

Heading to the bathroom, you strip off your clothes, letting them pile on the bathroom floor before letting the water run warm for a shower. A bath would be nice, but you wanted to sleep sooner rather than later.

Letting the water embrace your body instantly soothed some of the achiness in your shoulders. It was a comforting feeling, knowing that you were safe within the confines of your quarters. With shaky arms, you scrub your body, feeling the tightness within the muscles as you stretch and tense, hissing in slight pain.

Blood seeped through the wound, something of which stung as the water and suds hit the open cut. Sucking in a breath, you analyse it, pulling at the skin. Shallow and not life threatening; a relieved sigh escaped you.

Minutes pass by, the water turned off and your body dry and clothed as you sit on the edge of the bed, looking down at your hands. With another inhale, you stand, heading to the door. Upon opening it, you freeze.

“What the hell do you want?” You look up at the omnic before you, the tall, brooding figure blocking your exit.

“A greeting would be nice, but I assume you’re too crude for that.” He retorts.

“Excuse me?” Crossing your arms over your chest, you glare up to the white faceplate.

He huffed, head tilting slightly. “I have heard stories.”

“So?”

“So? Is that all you have to say?” His figure gets a little taller as he stands straight.

You squint, feeling the tension in the air. “What are you getting at?”

“I was hoping the stories were wrong, but I stand corrected.”

You smirk, taking a step forward. “Why do you care? You’re just a machine built to follow orders that are thrown to you, no matter who they come from-”

All air got caught in your throat as his hand comes up and grips it tightly, squeezing as he pushes you backwards into your room. The door slams shut behind him and he locks it effortlessly.

“What-” You choke out, feeling your body being pushed backwards onto the bed.

“We are more than machine.” Ramattra growls, his vocaliser low. His body pushes against you, full weight trapping you down against the mattress.

A whimper escapes you as you try to fight back, arms grabbing and hitting the omnic to try and get him off of you. “Get off! What the fuck is wrong with you?”

A sly chuckle escapes the omnic while he watches you squirm. “What is wrong with me? Perhaps, you should rethink your words.”

You glare up, eyes focussing on the red flickering lights on his forehead. A hand travels down your body, pulling and tugging at the shorts you were wearing.

“No- Don’t-” With wide eyes and a panic surging through your body, you continue to push against him, but his weight was too much.

“Oh?” He chuckles once again, one hand keeping you held down on the bed by your throat as the other pulls down the fabric of your shorts and underwear. “Finally realising your mistake?”

His fingers waste no time in entering you, hard digits pushing and scissoring the soft walls inside. The yelps you release only fuelled him more, thrusting his fingers in further.

“St-stop!” Your hands grip onto his metal frame, one final attempt to push him off but to no avail. His hand never leaves your throat as the other violently thrusts into you.

“Someone like you should be punished in every way imaginable.” His vocaliser lowers again, seemingly enjoying the abuse he’s handing out. “Perhaps you should be more mindful of your words.”

“F-fuck you.” You spit, feeling lightheaded as you feel his hand clamp down harder.

Between the whimpers and yelping, Ramattra’s circuits grow warm with the feeling of power that he has over you. The coarse mewls escaping your throat only fuel his rage further, removing his fingers from inside of you before he slips off his privacy plate and throwing it to the side.

Dragging his metallic fingers over his cock, coating it with your juices, he wastes no time in lining himself up. He watches your eyes widen, a smug feeling flowing through his wires as he shoves himself inside of you, eliciting a scream from you. He’s quick to move a hand to your mouth, muffling the cries for help and the screaming for him to stop. Tears prick your eyes, slowly rolling down your cheeks as you violently shake your head to the side.

Hands pushed and pulled, trying to get him to let go, but no matter what strength you could muster out, nothing would work. Your breathing was shallow already, growing harsh as his grip never faltered on your neck and mouth.

When he saw you turning red, eyes rolling back, he leans in close, his voice barely a whisper.

“Scream and you will suffer more than what is happening now.”

With eyes wide with shock, you nod frantically, wanting to breathe. Wanting to live.

He waited for a moment, and when he deemed you worth enough of air, he let you go; both of his hands moving to grab your wrists, pinning you completely on the bed.

The air filled your lungs instantly, a few gasps made your head fuzzy as he adjusted himself, pulling out and snapping his hips back to yours. The metal stung as it connected to your bare skin, his pace was relentless as he kept slamming into you, cock hitting deep inside as he didn’t faulter in speed or strength.

“P-Please… Stop…” You cry out, feeling the bruising grip on your wrists get tighter. Everything hurt, your muscles tightening in your shoulders as your throat scratched with every breath released.

“Not until you have learnt your lesson.” He snarls, moving your wrists up above your head, gripping them with one had as his other grabs at your chest. Rough hand movements pulled and tugged at your skin, grabbing your breasts as he continued to thrust hard. He pinched, listening to your cries that you tried to keep quiet.

Ramattra never slowed, cock hitting deep inside, bruising both the inside and outside of your body. His metal frame creaked slightly, fans whirring quickly to try and cool himself down as he grunts. His optics lock onto your eyes, aperture focusing onto your disgruntled face, eyebrows furrowed in pain, eyes shut tight as you bite your lip, wanting the assault to be over.

The quiet sobs and cries are music to his receptors as his hips snap to yours. He feels your pulse through your wrists as his hand tightens around them.

“Such a pitiful human, but such a good girl for me.” He coos, faceplate hovering above your face as his optics look over you once more before he buries his head into the crook of your neck, feeling the soft hum of your vocals as you whimper. “You are taking me so well. Such a good human… A good pet.” He felt your heartbeat rise suddenly, a chuckle escaping his vocaliser.

Despite the cries, despite the pain, you could feel him tensing. Not just his hands around your wrists, but his entire body.

He felt it too, knowing he was close. Circuits sparked inside, fans whirring quicker as his sensors flared up with many errors. Optics flickered alongside the lights on his forehead as he snaps his hips one final time into you, quickly moving his hand to cover your mouth as you scream out.

His sensors seize up, servos frozen as he temporarily reboots. A warm feeling fills you as you shake your head, nudging his hands away from you as you push his frame back. Panting heavily, with tear stained cheeks you keep pushing before he wakes back up.

“Get the fuck off of me.”

Ramattra chuckles, vocaliser clicking as it resets. “I see you still have not learned anything.” He sits up straight, pulling you back to him by your hips.

“Don’t-”

“Oh, my sweet little thing.” His thumbs dig into the dips of your hips, pushing against the bone, threatening to bruise. His cock rests against your already bruised cunt as he leans down to glare at you.

Ramattra’s optics scan you, noticing the shift in demeanour. He thought he got through to you, but not quite. He sighs, leaning further to your ear as his vocaliser lowers.

“Perhaps another lesson is needed.”

Tag list: @satans-codpiece

#overwatch #ramattra #ramattra x reader #overwatch ramattra #overwatch fanfiction #fanfic #ow #overwatch 2 #reader #ow2 #yazzfics #yazznsfw

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sh0ek0 · 1 year

Text

it's supposed to be fun, turning twenty-one (part 3.5)

please find the other parts via my masterlist or the #sh0ek0 tag, I'm having some trouble with my posts not showing up in the tags and I think the links are messing this up

genre: little bit of angst, dk if this counts even as a hint of fluff given the overall storyline?? just a small drabble content warning: hints of abuse, hints of toxic relationship, emotional dependency, nothing too explicit I guess, aged up characters, college au pairing: Megumi x reader word count: 2.8k A/N: Part III was quite long and almost a year too late and I realized that I don’t love it as much as I thought I would. This one's shorter as I’m not sure if I should continue with the series, the last part didn’t perform as good as the first two and I'm unsure where the story is going from here. Anyways, I hope you’ll enjoy this summary: after the party two weeks ago, the encounter with your ex has left you distraught. You feel re-traumatised and have barely slept or eaten since. Your friends are doing their best to distract you on your birthday, but even after everything he did to you, all you can think about is him.

"Happy birthday!!!" your friends chant in unison.

"Blow out the candles," Nobara squeals as she places the huge cake she and Yuji carried in in front of you.

Tears start to form in the corners of your eyes and a smile spreads across your face as you look at your friends. 'Don't forget to wish for something,' Toge signs to you, and you shake your head, telling him that you could really use a wish right now, before taking a deep breath and blowing out all the candles at once.

"Guys, I don't even know what to say," you croak, obviously touched by the successful surprise.

"You don't have to say anything," Maki says as she leans over to you, "in fact, don't say anything and don't tell us what you wished for, otherwise it won't come true."

You look around you and feel how warm and fuzzy your heart is starting to feel. You had spent your birthday on the couch with Maki today, watching a whole series of Halloween movies in anticipation of next week and eating so many snacks that you already felt sick by the time it was evening. Still, she had managed to convince you to go out for a few drinks to celebrate, so you ended up in your favourite bar.

And now you were sitting here at your favourite table by the big window in the front, surrounded by your friends who hadn't texted or called you all day to keep up the illusion that they had forgotten your birthday. Maki, Nobara, Yuji, Toge, Yuta and Choso were all gathered around the table, with you in the middle.

Even some of the seniors had shown up, Gojo and Getou and even Hakari and Kirara had stopped by to wish you a happy birthday. Gojo was far too enthusiastic as he hugged you, lifting you off the ground a little as he did.

"You’re officially allowed to drink now, congratulations!" Gojo grins as he sets you back down and Getou just shakes your hand, scratching the back of his head with his other hand as he gives you an apologetic look for his boyfriend. "Happy birthday, y/n, I hope all your wishes come true," he says, squeezing your hand before pulling you into a gentle hug.

"Thank you," you chuckle, but you're quickly distracted by Kirara and Hakari shoving a huge bouquet of flowers into your hands.

"Wow, thank you guys, they’re beautiful." Don’t tear up again, what’s up with you tonight?

"I picked them out, Maki told me which ones were your favourites." You squeal a little as Shoko squeezes in between them. She had just come in and her clothes were still wet, but she hugged you anyway. She was so busy with med school that you hardly ever got to see her. Even though she was two years older than you, you got along really well with her and you loved spending time with her, even though you had far too little of it.

You chat with the others for a moment, listening to Shoko's stories about her day at the university hospital, or Getou's tale of how Gojo drank alcohol for the first time on his twenty-first birthday, and how he was so drunk at the end of the night that Getou had to carry him back to campus, walking for almost half an hour with him slung over his shoulder.

"Hey, I never drank again after that, so you really can't complain," Gojo protested and you saw how Getou squeezed his side, pulling him into his arms.

After a while, the small group decides to move on to the bar, and you thank them again, giving each of them a quick hug before returning to your table to sit with your friends.

As happy as you were at the surprise, and you were so happy, the grin seemed to stay on your face as Nobara handed you the knife to cut the cake, you still noticed how that feeling of emptiness came over you.

Your cheeks were flushed with excitement, and as the knife slid through the cake and you lifted the first piece out, delighted to see a pink colour under the icing, strawberry being your favourite flavour, you couldn't help but think of Taylor's words.

It’s supposed to be fun, turning twenty-one

But it was only for a split second that you allowed yourself to think of him. Megumi, who wasn't here with you to celebrate your birthday. Your first birthday in two years without him. And yet, for the past two weeks, every time you looked in the mirror, you couldn't help but think of him, because you had to get up two hours earlier to cover the bruises he left on your neck with make-up.

Your skin was now only a pale green, it would heal soon. But the many wounds he had left on your soul didn't want to heal so quickly - almost every night you woke up from your sleep, the first week you had spent in Maki's bed again because you couldn't sleep alone. By now, the situations in which he had left you behind, traumatised and alone… they had piled up.

Of your friends, only Maki had seen the extent of his actions the morning after the house party, she had spent an hour trying to talk you into reporting him—to no avail. And if the others had noticed how meticulously you'd been covering your neck for the past two weeks, they didn't seem to let it show. Well, except for Choso and Yuji at least, the two brothers were even more protective than they already were before, taking turns in walking you home from your classes.

A few days after your argument, Yuji even came to you and apologised, especially for what he had said to you in the end.

"What he did to you isn't your fault."

How badly you needed to hear those words, even if you had trouble believing them.

"You always think of the others first, don’t you?", Nobara mumbles as she takes the knife out of your hands, puts a huge piece of cake on your plate and brings you back to the present, "Even on your birthday."

"I was raised to be polite," you say, chuckling as she nudges your side.

"Being polite and considering yourself not important enough are two different things," she hums, and you knew she was right. You were also aware that she was not only referring to the cake here.

It had been raining all day, next week was already Halloween, and soon after that it would start snowing. You weren't ready for the dark season, at least not now, not in your state of mind. You should probably really start talking to someone, maybe even someone whose job it was to talk. You might be able to get some therapy sessions through the college administration and you decide to ask Shoko about it when you have the chance.

You zone out as you overhear your friends gleefully chatting, and you listen in silence as Maki tells the story of how you sulked half the day, between movie marathons and getting ready, because no one had wished you a happy birthday yet. You eat your piece of cake, concentrating so hard on not letting your facade crumble, until...

Ding!

Ding! Ding!

Almost hesitantly, you reach for your phone, but none of your friends had even noticed it. It was far too noisy in here for that, and anyway - it was your birthday. Probably someone who just remembered you and wanted to reach out before the day was over.

If only your eyes hadn't already fallen on the name that popped up on the screen.

Your heart starts beating faster.

You couldn't just walk out now, could you?

It would be utterly foolish of you, after your last encounter, to go out there alone. It was dark and it was raining, and if you told your friends who just messaged you, they wouldn't let...

"Guys, my mum's been trying to call me, but I've got no signal in here," you announce, already rising from the table, though not without first reaching for your jacket, "I'll try to call her back."

"Say hello to her from me," Yuji says and couldn’t help but grin, "and tell her that, despite her doubts, you loved the surprise."

You look at him, a little confused, but then decide to just smile and nod. Great, it really didn't even take you two seconds to feel guilty about lying to your friends.

As nervous as you already were, you did your best not to trip over your own legs as you made your way through the people scattered all around the bar, laughing and chatting.

Three short messages and you had already forgotten all the nights you woke up next to Maki, drenched in your own sweat. You had forgotten how many meals you had skipped and how many cigarettes you had smoked at your kitchen window. The only thing your brain could focus on at the moment was Megumi waiting for you outside.

You step out into the cool night air, goosebumps creeping up your spine as you pull your jacket tighter. The rain was beating down on the awning attached to the wall above the entrance to the bar, and as you waited, staring at your phone, a few cars drove by, but otherwise the streets were empty. Unlike the many bars and restaurants in the street, from here you could look into their brightly lit interiors and see couples or whole groups of people sitting around the tables, talking and laughing.

After a few minutes of waiting, you rummage in your purse for a cigarette and a lighter, but when you hear a familiar voice behind you, you flinch and drop it, straight into a puddle.

"Hey." You turn to see Megumi coming towards you in the dim light of a street lamp. You feel your heart pounding in your throat and your palms starting to sweat. He was completely drenched, the hood pulled down over his face, but the rain was dripping from the strands of hair that were sticking out and falling in his face.

"Hey," you reply, barely audible. You felt the anxiety creep up to you for a moment, but you tried to pull yourself together. Still, it seemed to show on your face when your eyes met his, and you weren't surprised at how worried he looked. Worried and tired and somehow — guilty.

For a brief moment you just stared at each other without saying anything. It was so strange, but what was the right thing to do in such a situation? You were confused, your body was sending you so many signals to escape the scene, to go back inside and leave him standing, and at the same time you were longing so much to feel his warmth and to forget everything that had happened.

Then, out of nowhere, Megumi takes a step towards you and pulls you into a tight embrace. You inhaled his scent, completely ignoring how soaked he was. He rested his chin on your head and you felt him take a deep breath before he planted a kiss on your hair. "I know this doesn't mean shit," he murmured into your hair, "but I'm so sorry, baby." You freeze. "I’m so sorry for hurting you."

He sounded like a broken record. He was sorry every time he hurt you and then he did it again.

"It’s okay," you promise, sounding so heartbroken "it’s okay 'Gumi."

Was it okay? It wasn't like he broke your favourite CD, or stepped on your foot, or forgot about your date. When you looked in the mirror after showering, you could still see the marks of his fingers on your neck.

One,

two,

three,

four.

And a fifth where his thumb had pressed down, keeping you from taking another breath.

You stand there like that for quite a while, motionless, while he just holds you in his arms. You listen to the rain while tears ran down your cheeks, so overwhelmed by your own feelings. You didn't want this moment to end. You didn't want to deal with reality, and you certainly didn't want to deal with what would happen after this. "I missed you," you mumble into his chest, and it was the truth.

He doesn't answer.

He’s quiet, as usual. You always had a hard time reading him, you never knew for sure what was going on inside of him. But right now you could hear his heart beating faster and you feel his hand trembling as he stroked your back soothingly.

"'Told you I’ve got something for you," he mutters, drawing one arm away and fumbling in the pocket of his hoodie.

You pulled back and dared to look at him for real this time. He didn't just look tired, he looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, his cheeks were sunken and his lean, muscular frame seemed to have lost a little bit of weight.

"Turn around," he whispers as you just stare up at him through big doe eyes. You think about it for a moment, but then you do as you are told. You weren't sure what was going to happen, and as his arms wrap around your body and you feel his fingers first on your collarbone and then on your neck, for a split second you feel panic rising up again.

Until you realize that he is brushing your long hair aside and you feel cold metal and a delicate necklace against your skin.

With skilful hands he closes the clasp at the nape of your neck and your fingers immediately run to the spot on your collarbone to feel for the silvery heart-shaped pendant.

"Happy birthday," he whispers into your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine for the second time tonight. Without a word, you turn around, searching his face for any sign of rejection, but finding none. Your eyes glisten as they meet his and a smile tugs at your lips, before you finally kiss him.

He seems surprised by your reaction, but after a moment's hesitation he returns the kiss, his hand gently moving upwards to the back of your head, pulling you in even closer.

"Thank you," you mumble against his lips, still smiling, "I love it, it’s so pretty."

You were not ready to let him go. You were afraid he would leave and you didn't know when you would see him again. Not only had you not heard from him for two weeks, you hadn't seen him on campus either.

"You should really go back inside." You heard Megumi say.

"Please don't go yet," you beg, looking up at him, "I want to see you again."

"You've been out here too long, they'll wonder where you are." He was right. You looked down at the ground, upset that he had managed to get you so completely hooked again in such a short time. How were you going to pretend that everything was all right for the rest of the night?

He looks down at you, trying to read the expression on your face, before pulling you back in, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Text me when you're ready to leave, OK? We'll work something out." Your face lit up immediately upon hearing his words.

He lets go of you, leaving you unsure if you should kiss him again or not, and before you can even decide, he moves away from you. You take a step back too, hurt that he would just leave you like that. But instead of frowning, you just smile at him, without it ever reaching your eyes.

"I'll text you," you say, turning around just as he takes your hand and pulls you back, hugging you tightly and planting another kiss on the top of your head. He holds you for a moment and you can almost feel how hard it is for him to let go of you too, you could sense how bad he was feeling at the moment and how he tried to memorize as much of you as possible. Your scent, the way your body moulded just perfectly into his own, how your soft hair felt against the palm of his hand.

"I love you," he breathed against your hair, almost too quiet for you to hear.

But you heard him.

For the first time in months, you heard him say it without you saying it first.

For the first time in months, it felt like he meant it.

#posting again because the og post didn't show up #megumi angst #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi fic #Jjk angst #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro angst #sh0ek0

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ventingfanfics · 2 years

Note

could you make a shuri x reader fluff where reader cant sleep at all or had s nightmare so shuri drags them to bed to cuddle or reassurance <3

Hope you like it!

Resting is essential to getting over a cold, but how could you do that when your body refused to let you?

Unfortunately, being sick was preventing you from accessing a good night’s rest. You kept coughing and when you didn’t have to cough, you had to spit, and when you didn’t have to spit, you had to blow your nose.

If that wasn’t bad enough, you also had finals to worry about. Thankfully, you were able to complete them online. All you had to do was submit through your university’s online portal. But still, finals season. How were you to be sure you were putting your best foot forward when you didn’t even feel in the right state of mind?

The one person who could make any of this remotely better was your girlfriend Shuri. But if there was ever a time that you didn’t mind distance between you it was now. Call it vain, but you didn’t want her to see you this way. No doubt, you were also confident your constant symptoms would eventually irk her.

Slowly exhaling, you left your room and went to the kitchen to pour yourself another mug of honey lemon, desperate for relief. The kettle was still hot from your previous tea but not overly to where you had to wait for it cool off.

As soon as you took your first sip, you received a signal from your kimoyo beads, casting a purple light. Like always, your heart rate picked up when you saw it was Shuri. Insecurities be damned, you wanted to hear from your baby.

She was just as happy to see you. “Hi entle (beautiful). How’s my baby girl doing?” Her bright smile was replaced with concern as she listened to you explain your ongoing problem (not that you had to, the coughing drove the point just fine). “Did you try the herbs I made you?” Her eyebrows heightened as you turned your head, delaying your response. “Oh, wow…”

“Listen, babe, I haven’t taken it like I should, no, but I fumble when it comes to taking meds and I know you bodied the concoction, but it was too overpowering. It’s just the way my body is set up because I remember you saying it would work fast, and yet, here I am…(sneeze), it’s not you, it’s me. I just wanna go to sleep, Shuri. Is that too much to ask?”

Shuri watched as your face contorted in pain, feeling her heart tug. “That was a long way to tell me no.” The goal was to amuse you and she smiled when her efforts were successful. “But hold tight.”

You were chugging on your honey lemon when she arrived.

When Shuri arrived she was wearing a matching dark gray sleeveless v-neck with sweats. Since you weren’t feeling well, you felt obligated to wear thermos.

Even through your red, tired, droopy eyes, Shuri saw the gratitude you had for her showing up.

“I know you wanted to thug it out on your own, but nah,” she said, making you laugh/cough. She smiled to herself and kept you pinned against the sink when she kissed you. Pulling a face was not in reaction to her of course, but you were somewhat caught off guard.

“Shuri…” You called disapprovingly.

“What?” She asked innocently.

“I could have coughed or sneezed on you.”

She laughed. “I’m sure that’s coming.” You responded with a look that said it wasn’t as funny as she thought it was, making her playfully stroke your chin. But then at the same time, it was like wow, Shuri really rides for you, though, huh?

“Don’t take this the wrong way, I’m glad you’re here,” you started. “But I refuse to be the reason you don’t get any sleep. And I promise you will want to be in another room…”

Shuri noticed you were trying to suppress another cough and moved her hand on your back, rubbing there. “Let it out, let it out.”

When your body gave you a chance, you continued, “Because I will be doing that and spitting all night, and I doubt you wanna be surrounded by all of that.”

“So what are you saying, babe?”

“Cuddle me for a little and then go home?” You smiled, jokingly displaying two thumbs up.

“You wouldn’t really kick me out, would you?” She actually sounded and even looked worried causing you to quickly reassure her and remind her that only if it was absolutely necessary. The pair of you hoped the day would never come where either of you wanted to do this to the other.

You agreed to get back in bed as she tended to you in the kitchen. Even trying to watch one of your favorite YouTube channel was mundane. You could barely enjoy it. The honey lemon tea had helped some but the key word is some.

Thankfully, Shuri came to your room not long after and gave you the herbal tea, watching you diligently as you consumed it. “Good?”

Nodding, your eyebrows also knitted together, “Did you change something? It tastes…sweeter? Or lighter.”

“Did you just accuse me of diluting my work?”

You two had a little stare down that erupted into giggles.

“I would never!”

“I know.” She smiled and settled into the silk sheets next to you, motioning for you. “On me, sthandwa.” You snuggled against her and breathed her in. She kissed your temple and cheek a few times. Without direction, she knew where to knead—those parts of your body that ached, and her natural warmth was like a blanket to your on-and-off again chills. She couldn’t keep her hands off you and you adored every minute of it. It wasn’t even sexual, it was another way of her communicating her love for you.

“You’re so lucky you don’t get sick,” you said, sighing.

“Yeah, well, whether you’re sick, not sick, you are still Y/N and you are my Y/N. You never have to hide or feel ashamed, especially not with me,” she said, caressing your scalp through your satin bonnet.

“Tell me how your final went today."

Her voice was equally as soothing as her touch.

You updated her as much as you could before drowsiness overtook you as she informed it would. Shuri was glad that you could be brought to peace now and have the sleep you deserved. You’d be on your way to healing in no time, but regardless of how long it took she’d be right there.

#shuri fluff #shuri x reader #shuri x you #shuri x y/n #reader request #shuri imagine #black panther fics #black panther imagine #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfic club #marvel universe

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vampiresawakenedmycravings · 1 year

Text

CHAPTER 1

Choices in the shadows

Mention of: suicidal thoughts, self-harm

This is my first ever fandom

I hope you enjoy

1,200 ish words

And yes the characters mentioned from the other vampire clan are different from the ones you're gonna be thinking about I just had picked a name and that ended up being what it was don't judge

[Y/n] wakes up in the hospital, her heart starts to race pounding loudly as she tries to figure out where she was. At that moment a handsome doctor walks into her room and smiles when he sees she's awake

"Hello [y/n] I'm Carlisle Cullen I'll be you're doctor for the duration of you're stay here"

"Where is here?" [y/n] asks looking around

"You are at forks hospital, you're parents found you in you're room passed out" he looks at [y/n], then takes a step forward toward her slowly

"Now you'll have to answer a few questions ok?" Y/n nods

"Ok" she whispers wondering what the questions will be

"How long have you had suicidal thoughts?" He asks her, sitting in a chair near her bed. Y/n looks away and ignored the question.

"Y/n I need to know so I can treat you

"I don't know awhile I guess" she mutters and looks back at him seeing him jot notes down on his notepad.

Carlisle looks back up at y/n and asks "was this you're first attempt at you're life?"

Y/n rolls her eyes "I'm here now aren't I?

Carlisle looks into her eyes "some attempts like the one you tried earlier aren't successful," he looks down at his notes for a second before looking back up at her "so was this you're first attempt"

"Yes" y/n says knowing she's lying remembering last summer when she tried to OD on ibuprofen and allergy meds, how it was failed and her parents never even found out.

Carlisle notes that and continues on with the questions,

"How long have you-" he motions to the deep wounds on her legs and upper arms.

"I've cut myself for years" she says and he notes that

"Why?" He looks back up at her with caring eyes. The simple question stumped y/n she didn't know how to answer no one had ever asked her that before.

"I-" she stutters as starts to talk "I was- I felt" she stumbles for words before giving up.

"I don't know," she mumbled

As Carlisle continued to ask Y/n questions about her struggles, a sense of trust began to form between them. His empathetic demeanor and genuine concern made Y/n feel like she could finally open up.

Carlisle, still maintaining his gentle tone, asked, "Y/n, have you ever talked to anyone about your feelings or sought help before this?"

Y/n hesitated for a moment, recalling the times she had wanted to reach out but tried and failed to find the courage. She finally admitted, "No, I've always kept it to myself. I didn't think anyone would understand."

Carlisle nodded understandingly. "I'm glad you're opening up now. It's an important so I can try to help you get better." He leaned in a bit closer, lowering his voice. "I want you to know that there are people who care about you and want to help. We can work through this together."Y/n felt a sense of relief wash over her as Carlisle's words sank in.

Y/n felt a sense of relief wash over her as Carlisle's words sank in. For the first time in a long while, she didn't feel completely alone in her struggle.

Over the next few weeks, Y/n's bond with Carlisle deepened. He became more than just her doctor; he was a confidant and a source of support. together they worked on strategies to cope with her emotions.

As Y/n's physical wounds began to heal, so did the emotional ones. She started attending support groups at the hospital, where she met others who had faced similar challenges. Their shared experiences helped her realize she wasn't alone in her battle.

One day, Carlisle asked her if she wanted to go on a walk in the forest. Y/n nodded and got dressed in normal clothes out of her hospital gown quickly excited to finally get out of the hospital

Carlisle took her took her hiking through the woods to a view over the river.

On there way back to car after they looked out at the river for awhile,Y/n turned to Carlisle and said with a faint smile, "Thank you for saving my life, not just physically, but emotionally too."

Carlisle returned her smile warmly. "You're the one who chose to fight, Y/n. I was just here to lend a helping hand. Remember, you have the strength to overcome anything."

One evening, as Y/n and Carlisle continued their walks in the forest, they stumbled upon an unusual sight. A group of people, unlike anyone Y/n had ever seen, emerged from the shadows. They had strikingly pale skin, almost like marble, and their eyes gleamed with an otherworldly light.

They looked like Carlisle except different, instead of a beautiful golden color like Carlisle they had bright red eyes, that looked almost thirsty.

Carlisle's expression tightened, and he moved protectively in front of Y/n. "Stay behind me," he whispered, his voice tense.

The group of strangers approached, and their leader, a charismatic and enigmatic woman, stepped forward. "My name is Aro," she said, her tone as smooth as silk. "We've been watching your progress, Y/n."

Y/n exchanged a confused glance with Carlisle. "Who are you, and what do you want?"

Aro's lips curled into a sly smile. "We have a unique proposition for you, Y/n. You see, we share a secret, a gift that could change your life forever."

Carlisle's grip on Y/n tightened as he stared at Aro warily. "What are you talking about?"

Aro's eyes never left Y/n's, and she continued, "We offer you the chance to join us, to become part of our family. You would have a new life, new abilities, and eternal youth. In return, you must leave behind your human life and become one of us."

Y/n's heart raced, as she shook her head no. She wasn't losing Carlisle and the trust she had placed in him and the progress she had made.

Y/n clung to Carlisle's reassuring presence, her mind swirling with disbelief at Aro's proposition. She had come so far in her journey to recovery, and the thought of leaving it all behind for this mysterious offer was daunting.

Carlisle spoke firmly, his voice unwavering. "We appreciate the offer, Aro, but Y/n's path to healing is here, with me, and the support she's found. We won't be making any rash decisions."

Aro's smile remained, but there was a glint of disappointment in her eyes. "Very well, Carlisle. The offer stands should you change your mind."

As Aro and her group retreated into the shadows, Y/n let out a shaky breath. "What was that all about?"

Carlisle's expression was grave. "Those were vampires, Y/n. Creatures of legend. They're offering you immortality, but it comes at a great cost. I'm glad you chose to stay."

Y/n interrupts Carlisle "they looked exactly like you except with red eyes," she blurts out

"Are you a vampire?"

Carlisle's expression remains composed as he replies, "Yes, I am a vampire, but I'm different from the ones you encountered. We don't drink human blood, and we try to live in harmony with humans. It's a long story, would you like to hear more?"

Y/n doesn't know what to say she stared at Carlisle with her mouth hanging open. She thinks of all the weird things like how he doesn't eat or drink and he's super strong and pale and HOT.

She shrugs, nonchalantly which surprised Carlisle.

"You're not scared?" He asks y/n

Y/n looks at Carlisle with a newfound curiosity and hints of admiration in her eyes. "Scared? Maybe a little surprised, but after everything we've been through, I've learned not to judge based on appearances. You've been there for me when I needed it most."

Carlisle smiles warmly, relieved by her understanding. "Thank you, Y/n. I promise, I'll always be here to support you, no matter what." Their bond deepens further as they continue their walk through the forest, navigating the complexities of their unique connection and the challenges that lie ahead.

After Carlisle takes her home she watches him leave and after about ten minutes she walks into the forest near her house,

"Aro!! Are you here!! I have a question for you!!" She whisper shouts into the dark tripping over a branch and falling to the forest floor. She cry's out in pain but gets up intent on finding the vampire she had seen earlier and her family

In the dim forest, Y/n's voice echoed softly, and the shadows seemed to whisper back. Suddenly, Aro materialized before her, her red eyes gleaming like rubies in the darkness.

"What question do you have, Y/n?" Aro asked, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

Y/n, undeterred by her fall and the eerie surroundings, took a deep breath. "I want to understand why you chose me to become part of you're clan why not anyone else why am I special?"

Aro regarded Y/n with a contemplative expression, her lips curling into a mysterious smile. "You have a unique resilience, Y/n. We've been watching you, and your ability to endure and find strength within yourself is exceptional. We believe you have untapped potential, the kind that could thrive in our world."

Y/n's mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions, uncertainty mixed with curiosity. "But what about Carlisle? He's been helping me so much. I can't just leave him."

Aro nodded, acknowledging the dilemma. "Carlisle is an admirable man, and his compassion is rare among our kind. It's a decision only you can make, Y/n. Whether you choose to stay with him or embrace a new life with us, your path is yours to decide."

Y/n took a moment to absorb Aro's words. The forest seemed to hold its breath, waiting for her response. With newfound determination, she spoke, "I appreciate the offer, Aro, but I've already found a family in the people who care about me. I'm not ready to leave them behind."

Aro's smile remained enigmatic, but she nodded gracefully. "Very well, Y/n. Should you ever change your mind or seek answers, you know where to find us." With that, she and the shadows enveloped her, leaving Y/n alone in the quiet forest.

As Y/n made her way back home, she couldn't help but feel a sense of closure. The encounter with the vampires had been surreal, but her heart was firmly rooted in the world she had come to know and the people who had supported her on her journey.

She thought of Carlisle and the unwavering bond they had forged. Y/n knew that her path to healing and self-discovery would continue with him by her side, and together, they would face whatever challenges lay ahead.

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theofficersacademy · 6 months

Text

Just as a horn announced the start of the historic Battle of the Eagle and Lion, so does a horn call for its end. Fighting across the field draws to its close, with those remaining helping each other limp off to rejoin the rest of their classmates and colleagues.

The hope of victory still burns in all the remaining competitors on the field, but as the hours wear on, it becomes more and more difficult to call a decisive victor. And so, a monumental decision is made.

Blue, yellow, and red, in equal measure.

“The Battle of the Eagle and Lion has officially concluded!

And the winner is…

All Three Houses!”

This concludes the Battle of the Eagle and Lion! You may view the winning bracket here. A thank you to everyone who participated for making this successful; we hope you enjoyed it as much as we did!

Please continue reading for final results and information about prizes.

Honorable Round 3 mentions to the following:

First KO: Kagetsu Most Damage Dealt: Hilda (13 dmg) Longest Battle: Knoll, Hilda, Eliwood vs Minerva, Diamant, Yuri (11 rounds) Luckiest competitor: Céline (Dodged attacks 8 times) Sitting Duck Award: Kagetsu and Lloyd (Never got to attack)

A joyous feast caps off an exciting day of battle and glory. Red, blue, and yellow swirl together as Eagles, Lions, and Deer leave class divisions on the battlefield and mingle freely amongst each other. As the night goes on, scrap fabric from the torn House banners are sewn into patchwork ribbons, rosettes, and crowns.

You may have noticed us announcing certain characters as having dealt the most damage or missed the most attacks. After seeing each other’s performances on the battlefield, the students have taken notice of certain players and have judged them accordingly:

Worst Case of Senioritis: Elincia, who missed the most attacks (9)

Most Likely to Get Away with Murder: Céline, who dodged the most attacks (9)

Most Likely to Sleep During Class: Anna, who received the most damage (19 dmg)

Most Likely to Return from the Dead: Anna, who healed the most damage (6.5 dmg)

Biggest Overachiever: Caspar, who dealt the most damage (42.5 dmg)

Bearer of the Squeaky Hammer: Céline and Duessel, who barely hit opponents the most (3)

Best Sharpshooter: Knoll, who landed the most critical hits (4)

Most Dependable: Griss, Elise, and Linhardt, who assisted teammates the most (4)

Future Pre-Med: Griss, who recovered the most HP for allies (6.5 HP)

Most Elusive: Ayra, who received the least damage across all three rounds (1.5 dmg)

Most Likely to Repeat the Semester: Kagetsu, who dealt the least damage of the round 3 finalists (6 dmg)

Most Likely to Forget Their Weapon Before a Fight: Elincia, who rolled the most Nat1s (4)

Most Likely to Bring Five Extra Weapons to the Battlefield: Diamant, Marianne, Eremiya, and Erk, who rolled the most Nat20s (2)

Most Likely to Walk Away With an Everlasting Bromance: Caspar and Elincia, who remained together for the entire tournament

Most Likely to Stumble Across Treasure: Kagetsu (round 3 finalist) and Elffin (overall), who had the highest average roll (14 and 18, respectively)

Most Likely to Break a Mirror: Céline and Elincia (round 3 finalists), and Pelleas (overall), who had the lowest average roll (8 and 4, respectively)

No Man Left Behind: Caeda, who never lost a teammate

Most Likely to Get Stuck in a Long Line: Diamant, who had the most ties (10)

Most Likely to Trip Over Their Own Feet: Kagetsu (round 3 finalists), and Farina (overall), who had the lowest average speed rolls (2 and <1, respectively)

Most Likely to Win a Marathon: Yuri (round 3 finalists), and Lucina, Leif, and Chad (overall), who had the highest average speed rolls (6)

Most Likely to Spin Themselves Dizzy: Caspar, who rotated their team the most (7)

Loves a Plate of Venison: Caeda, who reigned supreme over the Golden Deer (fought only GD opponents and won all three rounds)

You can view the full statistics here.

— BOEL Prizes

There are two prizes for this mini-event. Please read the instructions below carefully! You do not have to message the Masterlist to claim your event rewards.

All event participants are awarded a free skill point. You may put this skill point wherever you choose. Please do remember to message the Masterlist for any skill rank rewards if applicable.

All winning participants (students and faculty/staff supporters of all three houses) are awarded the “Goddess’ Favor”. This may be added to your inventory. Similar to the Black Eagles Pendant and Golden Deer Bracelet, it does not have any mechanical effects or grant stat boosts. It is simply a bragging right and representation of your hard-won victory. Wear it with pride.

As always, let us know if you have any questions, and thank you again everyone for your participation and support!

- The House Leaders

#toaboel2024 #toa announcements

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wordsbyhisheart · 4 months

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I hope you have the biggest smile on your face this morning, I wanted to ask for a small favour - in tahajjud or whenever you pray to remember me, I was in talks of getting married to someone I really love, his family got involved and so did my parents suddenly overnight after I told few people finally life changed and my parents woke up saying they want me to finish my degree (I’m 26 doing med) and don’t finish till I’m 30, I don’t want to be speaking to him till I’m 30, I want to make this halal. and ky parents were like that’s our decision and it really is hurting me since life changed overnight for no reason and they’ve only met him couple of times none of the times to speak about how he feels about me but more to do with how he is as a person, if they knew how much he loved me they would give me away in a. Second as he is genuinely the best man alhumdulillah , I would be so grateful since me and him are both really going through it to remember us, who knows who our lord will listen to💓

First of all , I think it’s absolutely fantastic that you are pursuing medicine! May Allah ﷻ grant you barakah and blessings in your studies and practice. May you find success in both this world and the hereafter! أمين يا رب العلمين

Secondly, it’s a tough situation that you’re in, I would assume it’s because you told those around you hence you got Nazr from it but it’s always important to focus on the positives!

And yes I did wake up with a smile thank youu :)

Here is some sincere advice to consider:

1) Communicate with Your Parents down with your parents and express your feelings openly and respectfully. Explain how much this person means to you and how you believe he is the right partner for you. Emphasise your intention to make the relationship halal and your willingness to balance your studies and marriage. If direct communication with your parents is difficult, consider involving a trusted family member, community leader, religious advisor who can mediate and help convey your perspective to your parents.

2) Compromise, Look for a middle ground. Perhaps propose a timeline that allows you to get engaged now and married after a certain period, balancing your academic commitments with your personal life. This might show your parents that you are taking their concerns seriously while also honoring your commitment to your parents.

3) Pray and Have Patience: Continue to seek guidance and strength through prayer (Tahajjud and other prayers). Patience is crucial during this time, as changes in such significant family decisions can take time.

4) Focus on Your Well-being:Ensure that you take care of your emotional and mental health. Talk to friends or a counselor to manage the stress and emotions you're experiencing.

5) Involve the person you want to marry, Keep him informed about your discussions and plans. Make sure you both are on the same page and support each other through this period.

6) Trust in the Process: Sometimes, things may not go as planned, but trust that with sincere efforts, prayer, and patience, the right path will become clear.

Finally, you must keep praying and praying. And you must keep close with your parents & loved ones.

Respecting their decision doesn’t mean that you throw away what you want but but it also doesn’t mean that you have to argue for what you want.

Sometimes there’s things they see that we don’t, it’s important to get the full details on why they oppose your decisions rather than to accept what you want.

Making it halal is by far the most important thing you can do! A halal relationship will increase your barakah and blessings in your family and household and it will also aid you in any situation you come across.

I hope this advice helps you navigate this difficult situation. My DMs are open if you need any help at all!

May Allah ﷻ unite you both in the most beautiful way, May you be granted goodness and blessings in all decisions you make. May you find peace and resolution soon أمين يا رب العلمين

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dumb-cdc · 9 months

Text

Genocide: A Working Definition

Dumb CDC welcomes you to enjoy our timely upcoming series Genocide: A Working Definition. We hope to promote conversation through this collection of diverse essays by recognized figures in places.

After 2 months into Israel's siege on Gaza, members of the UN have called for a humanitarian ceasefire. First on December 8th, where the US vetoed the Security Council vote, and then on December 12th, where 153 members of the UN General Assembly voted in favor of ceasefire. The aim of the ceasefire is to allow for humanitarian aid and recovery in the occupied Palestinian territories (oPt as defined by the UN).

At this moment, Palestine is experiencing a third telecommunications blackout. 9 out of 10 people cannot eat each day. Succumbing to wounds, injury, and disability is an imminent risk-- 14 hospitals are operating and only partially. The complete closure of food, fuel, water, and medical channels is part of Israel's "collective punishment" against the civilian population. Punishment that is considered separate from the indiscriminate airstrikes, bombings, and raids.

In under 70 days, the explosive power of 3 atomic bombs have been dropped within the 141 square miles of Gaza. That would be the equivalent of the city of Atlanta, GA experiencing the horror of Hiroshima 3 times over.

And so, people are finding themselves asking: Is this genocide? Yes, people are still asking themselves this.

We here at Dumb CDC understand that historical continuity is a difficult concept. We also understand that everyone has developed their own yardstick for measuring genocide in 2023.

On December 6th, Euro-Med Human Rights Monitor reported a civilian death toll of 21,731 civilians. In these figures, children are 40% of all deaths (n = 8,697). These numbers do not include adults and children who are missing or have an unknown status.

The simplest assessment of the value of Palestinian life would be a correlation between Palestinian civilian deaths and Hamas militant deaths (Israel's measure of military success).

On December 6th, CNN reported that 5,000 Hamas militants were confirmed dead by Israel:

1.74 living children + 2.60 living adults = 1 dead Hamas 2 living children + 3 living adults = 1 dead Hamas *round up when the units are humans

On December 15th, Reuters reported that 7,000 Hamas militants were confirmed dead by Israel:

1.24 living children + 1.86 living adults = 1 dead Hamas 2 living children + 2 living adults = 1 dead Hamas *round up when the units are humans

And before you say "but is this genocide?", please know we anticipated this question. Obviously there are confounds we simply cannot account for in this complex situation.

We acknowledge that this is an overestimation of the value of human life in Palestine. Additional things must be destroyed to yield 1 dead Hamas. We still need to factor in the destruction of the built environment, healthcare systems, sanitation systems, food systems, and natural resources of the population (among other things). It is difficult to place a value on heritage sites, historical landmarks, and places of worship, but these together do yield 1 dead Hamas.

Human rights monitoring has been greatly disrupted. And in under 70 days, 90 journalists providing on-the-ground coverage of the war have been killed by airstrikes and snipers (v. 69 killed during the entirety of WWII; v. 63 killed during the entirety of Vietnam). We understand that this puts further limitations on our data.

We cannot confidently make inferences about the real value of human life in 2023 until more data becomes available. Until then, Dumb CDC remains committed to measuring genocide in units of population health indicators to inform a new, working definition.

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formsofcontinuity · 2 years

Text

chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5 (or, all earlier chaps on AO3)

chapter 6: geese-a-laying

It happens in the late afternoon; Lena’s sitting in her office, flush with promise for the future and touching base with various department heads after a successful press conference. With the exception of a few last minute financiers whose donations she'll need to help manage before the New Year, Lena is determined to hold off on any major work until early January. Another week won't make a difference in productivity, even with this new momentum. Maybe, for once, she can allow herself a real break this weekend.

Plus, Lena's eager to spend some time with Kara; she’s just contemplating texting the blonde to see if she’s interested in having drinks tonight instead of tomorrow when she turns on the television.

Drone footage of Supergirl at the scene of a sinking naval vessel flickers onto the screen. The ship's listing on its side in the ocean about three hundred miles west of National City after a series of explosions in the engine room, the newscaster’s voiceover explains. Mayday signals from the ship drew the hero’s attention, he continues, and Supergirl has already rescued all the sailors.

Despite how dangerous the incident sounds for the humans involved, this is all pretty routine for Kara. Lena watches the broadcast with only a hint of trepidation, already mentally preparing a text to the other woman in her head.

And then the ship just…explodes, right there on live television.

Fire and shrapnel shoot out from the hull, followed by an enormous geyser of water that plows straight into Supergirl, knocking her out of the sky. Heart in her throat, Lena watches with anxious hope for a moment, waiting for Kara to fly through the ocean spray, unharmed. It's only water, after all. Kara has dealt with far worse. But then, the water around the sinking ship starts to take on a sickening green hue, and Lena races out of her office before the anchor can finish urgently announcing that there appears to be kryptonite in the water.

Lena texts her driver from the elevator, and he’s already waiting by the time she arrives outside of the building, her face contorted with worry and hair mussed from running. Without needing to be asked, he promises that he’ll get Lena to the DEO as quickly as possible and puts the car in drive before she can even get her seatbelt buckled. Lena thinks, in a fleeting, vague way, that even her driver knows how gone she is for Kara, knows that she needs to be by the blonde’s side as soon as possible.

Using her keycard, Lena bursts into the rebuilt DEO like a woman on a mission. It’s Nia whom she encounters first, pacing nervously by the entrance; the younger woman perks up at her arrival, placating hands raised to forestall Lena’s questions.

“I knew you’d be here, but you’re even quicker than I thought.” She offers a wane smile. “She’s hurt, Lena, but it’s okay. She’s going to be okay.”

“I should have been there. I should have–”

Nia shakes her head vigorously, refusing to be party to Lena’s spiraling self-doubt. She gestures that Lena should follow her to the med-bay, and Lena falls into step beside her. “I only just got here a few minutes ago; no one could have known. J’onn was with her; he flew her here right away.”

"Why on earth was there kryptonite on that ship?"

Nia shakes her head. Alex's voice cuts in from where she's standing just outside the med-bay, watching their rapid approach. "That's what I'd like to know, too, and I'm damn well going to find out."

Alex's gaze, hardened by anger and concern, softens the minute she looks into Lena's face.

"Oh, Lena," she says. That's all it takes, and, to her own surprise, Lena is crying.

"I'm sorry." Lena wipes furiously at the traitorous tears. "Nia already told me…she’ll be okay?" Alex nods firmly. Lena whimpers at her own humiliating loss of control, and Nia places a warm hand on her shoulder. She shakes herself, straightens her shoulders. "I don't know what's gotten into me. What can I do to help?"

It turns out, there’s nothing for Lena to do except sit by Kara as the blonde sleeps beneath the sun lamps. The explosion had sent small particles of kryptonite directly into Kara’s lungs and stomach via the water, so it’s taking a bit longer than usual to clear from her system. Alex seems confident, though, that Kara will be good as new within a day or two.

Lena double-checks the hero’s vitals and tunes up some of the equipment rather than just nervously pace the med-bay. When hours have passed and Lena shows no sign of leaving, Alex brings her a cot, which Lena sets up right beside Kara, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge Alex’s knowing look.

Exhaustion overtakes Lena as soon as she lays down, so quickly that she doesn’t even realize she’s been asleep when she wakes up in the darkened med-bay to Kara calling her name.

“Lena? Is that you?”

She sits up immediately, then shifts to lean over Kara’s supine form.

“Kara? Are you okay? Do you need anything? Should I get Alex?”

Kara smiles, reaching a hand out to draw Lena closer by the forearm, “I’m fine. I’m fine. I promise.” Her voice is quiet, a little raspy, but sure, strong. She squints at Lena. “Wait a minute; what day is it?”

Lena laughs wetly, eyes tearing again. “It’s Friday, Kara, the 30th,” she reassures, then checks her watch, “and it’s about 3am.” Leave it to Kara to worry she’s slept through the New Year. “Don’t worry; you didn’t miss the party.”

Kara chuckles weakly, “Oh, that good. I didn’t miss it. Good.” Her eyelashes flutter as she fights sleep. “I’m very very tired.” She takes a breath, voice quieting even more, and if Lena weren’t so close, she probably wouldn't be able to hear her soft request. “Will you lie with me?”

The sun bed is warm and bright, a stark contrast to the otherwise dark room and the slight chill lingering in the antiseptic space. Kara smells like salt water and smoke. It’s been so long since Lena has been able to lie close to her in such an unselfconscious way, probably not since before the reveal of Kara’s identity, when they were devoted to their charade of platonic affection and still gravitated to each other like magnets anyway. There were movie nights where they’d fallen asleep together on the couch, sleepovers where Lena had woken with Kara pressed against her side, arm slung over her hips.

She’d held Kara since, of course. Lena remembers one night shortly after Kara’s return from the Phantom Zone when the blonde had clung to her for hours, until she’d fallen into a restless sleep, but that was born of desperation and fear. To lie with Kara like this, curled against her with the blonde’s fingers gripping Lena’s bicep lightly, safe and whole, feels precious and necessary, sensations buried deep in Lena’s muscle memory and new ones fluttering free all lighting up within her at once.

Lena loves Kara with her whole self, with everything she has. She has to tell her.

Alex finds them the next morning, Lena squeezed in next to Kara, head resting on the blonde’s chest, arm slung over her waist. As Lena blinks the sleep from her eyes, she lifts her head to find Kara already awake and watching her through hooded lids. Alex clears her throat from the door.

“Cot wasn’t good enough for you, Luthor?” she asks, drolly, but doesn’t press the issue further after a pointed glare from Kara that Lena thinks she wasn’t supposed to see.

She climbs reluctantly off the sun bed, helping Kara into a seated position so that Alex can run tests. Kara’s powers seem to be fully intact, but she’s still weakened from ingesting kryptonite-laced water, so Alex wants her to stay under the lamps for the rest of the day. Kara’s face falls; she gives Lena a sidelong glance.

“Can I talk to my sister privately for a moment?”

So, Lena steps out for a half hour to get a coffee from the DEO kitchen and answer a few of the many texts and calls from friends and worried staff. She also calls Daniel and asks him to draft a press release about the incident, but hold off on sending it until he’s gotten clearance from both her and Alex.

When she returns, Kara seems resigned to her fate. “We made a deal. I’ll stay in bed, but Alex has to do something for me first.” Then, she smiles, reaching out to take Lena’s hand. “Sorry if I ruined your day yesterday. I heard from Nia that you did an amazing job at the press conference.”

“Apology not accepted,” Lena grumbles, then clarifies, “You know that you’re more important to me than any press conference.”

Kara smiles and Lena, incapable, after everything, of pretending she doesn’t need to feel Kara’s arms around her again, slides gracefully onto the sunbed and presses Kara’s shoulder until the other woman lies back down. Kara holds her arms open, and Lena gratefully sinks into them.

After that, they talk. Not about the weight of their feelings–now isn’t the time for that–but about everything and nothing. It’s a couple more hours, almost lunchtime, when Kara’s eyes begin to droop.

“Go,” she murmurs. “I’ll sleep some more and then tomorrow I’ll be right as rain for New Year’s Eve.” Lena begins to protest, but Kara is insistent. “If you finish all your work today, maybe I can have you to myself tomorrow…” She tries to grin, but her eyes are already half closed.

That’s an enticing enough thought to compel Lena to gather her things, making Kara promise to call if there’s anything, anything at all, that she needs in the meantime.

Alex catches Lena just as she’s about to leave the DEO, her expression unreadable. “Something you want to share with the class?” One of Alex's hands rests on her hip, and Lena has to suppress a smile at how much she looks like Kara in that moment.

“I'm not sure what you mean?”

“Why on Earth did my sister send me out to get vodka for you at nine this morning?” Alex brandishes a small bag, shaking it dramatically by the neck, where she’s scrunched up the paper.

Lena blinks, mirroring Alex’s bewildered expression. “She did what?”

“While you were on the phone earlier, Kara asked–no, she insisted–that I run out and get this.” She hands Lena the bag. “And she gave very clear instructions that I please give it to you before you head home for the day because she knew she’d probably be asleep.”

“Well,” Lena hedges, “we were supposed to have drinks tonight…but I obviously can procure my own vodka.”

“I’m sure you can.” Alex rolls her eyes.

“Otherwise, I have no idea.”

“Well,” Alex grouses good-naturedly, “enjoy, I guess.” She sighs. “I don’t know what’s going on with her. She’s been acting very weird the last few days, and I think it has something to do with you.” She narrows her eyes. “Who am I kidding, of course it has something to do with you.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Unbidden, Lena’s thoughts drift to Kara giving her the ornament, all flush and smiling; her backtracking after their dinner to kiss Lena’s cheek; how, just yesterday, she’d held Lena’s hand and leaned into her, how they might have kissed for real then if it hadn’t been for the press conference. Something’s changing between them, coming to the surface. But Lena doesn’t tell Alex any of that.

Alex squints, then shrugs, “You two are going to be the death of me.” She turns on her heel and stalks back down the hall.

In the car on the way to her apartment for a shower and change of clothes, Lena pulls the bottle from its paper bag wrapping. It's a bottle of Grey Goose vodka; she rests it in her lap, examining its frosted body and bright blue accents in a state of deep confusion. It’s not her usual brand, which Kara knows, and there’s no note or explanation.

What is it with Kara and birds?

Lena has a niggling feeling she’s missing something, but she trusts Kara and Kara is okay and she’s sure Kara will explain eventually. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.

Lena cradles the cool bottle in her hands the rest of the ride.

#supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #fluff #the angst ended as soon as it began #12 days to say i love you #kara and i are both interpreting this song VERY liberally #give kara a break she was unconscious #I have no such excuse except geese are hard

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