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cryptidghostgirl · 7 months

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Are your requests still open? I was hoping for a request for a Lucifer x sinner reader where she was once in love with someone when she was alive but they betrayed her leading to her death causing her to be afraid of letting others in. She's been a resident of the hotel since the pilot, but doesn't really talk much about her feelings or past life but is convinced by Charlie who says singing helps her when she needs to get out her own emotions. So when she thinks everyone is gone for the day on one of Charlie's bonding field trips, she uses the piano in the main area to sing her heart out, not realizing Lucifer decided to stay. The song I'm thinking of is "Perfect Doesn't Last" by Beth Crowley. So when she sings it and he overhears listening and watching her he's reminded of Lilith and feels for the reader understanding her more than when they first met during his first visit to the hotel (ep 5). I'm not sure of how to end it, so if you want to add anything to it I'm totally up for it. I just thought this song would match him so well.

A/N this is my first time writing for this man. Also,, i think it’s so funny that everyone is just like “short king” even tho alastor is canonically at least seven feet tall and charlie is at least like six feet tall. that’s so silly of us.

Encore (Lucifer x Reader)

Paring: Lucifer x Reader

Warnings: Domestic abuse briefly mentioned.

Word Count: 2,169

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Lucifer had just wanted to visit Charlie. With their relationship on the up and up, he was eager to not give up his chance to fix things with his favorite and only daughter. However, when he arrived at the hotel, throwing the doors open in unadulterated excitement, it was to find the normally busy lobby area empty.

The door fell shut behind him and his smile slipped from his face. Carefully, he ran his eyes over every inch of the room. There really was no one to be found.

"Maybe they're just all in their rooms, yeah." he said aloud to himself, "Charlie is probably... in her office! It must take a lot of work to run a place like this. Yeah, that's what it is."

Charlie, Vaggie, and Alastor had asked her to come with them to the movies. It was supposed to be a reward, for how hard they had all been working. They had really tried their best to convince Y/n to join them but, as always was the case when activities that took them out of the hotel were not required, Y/n had declined the offer.

Y/n was still getting used to Hell in all its big scary wonder, she still hurt. Everything was so complicated and while spending time with her thoughts didn't make her feel good per-say, spending time with others had been making her feel even worse. Besides, Charlie had given her some advice a few days ago she wanted to test out and she didn't exactly feel comfortable doing that while the hotel was crawling with people.

Y/n trusted Charlie. She was the first person to have extended a kind hand in her direction since her arrival in Hell. When Charlie had found out Y/n had been a concert pianist in the living world, she was elated.

"That's perfect!" she had said, leaning across the desk towards her, "We have a piano in the Hotel's auditorium!"

"I... I don't know if I really can... perform, right now. If that's alright." Y/n had replied, wringing her hands and unable to keep eyecontact.

"What? Oh no! That's not what I meant at all. It just seems... well if you did it for a living, you must have loved it. And it seems like you always have a lot on your mind, lots of stuff to process, and I know you don't like talking to people about it and, well, music always makes me feel better. It feels freeing, like I'm getting everything bottled up inside me out when I sing."

"I... I don't think I've ever really thought about it that way." she had admitted in response, "It was just something I had always done. I started lessons when I was three."

"Well, you should try it some time." Charlie had smiled back, "Maybe it will help."

Once she was sure everyone was gone and the hotel was hers alone, Y/n had slipped quietly from the confinement of her room. It had taken her a bit to find the auditorium. When she finally did and saw the piano it held, her breath caught in her throat.

It was a beautiful old baby grand made out of a warm cherry wood that matched the hotel's theming well. The lid had creaked when she had opened it, the keys had been dusty to the touch.

It had been a long time since she'd played. With mild joy, she let her fingers run the usual scales and arpeggios, finding a comfort in the familiarity of it all. Once satisfied her fingers were all warmed up and ready to play something real, she posed them over the keys.

Lucifer had lost himself in the depths of the labyrinthine hotel. The twists and turns of the hallways were unfamiliar to him despite the tour Charlie, Vaggie, and Alastor had lead him on. His hope at finding his daughter and spending some time with her had long since flickered out. He was on the verge of going home, his hand half raised to open a portal, when he heard it.

A faint echo of music flooded the hallway and Lucifer froze. It was haunting and distant, it drew him in. His sights set on a new sort of entertainment for the afternoon, he listened carefully and began to follow the sound.

As he got closer to its source, Lucifer realized that who ever was making the music was not just playing the piano but singing. Their voice was soft and lovely, nearly ethereal in its sheer humanity and anguish.

I would have bet on us

We were untouchable, you and I

I couldn't get enough

It was a fairytale come to life

Lucifer at last reached the half open door to the room the music appeared to be coming from. Not wanting to disturb the artist just yet, he transformed into a snake and slithered his way silently into the room. There, sitting at the piano on the stage, was Y/n.

I had your heart

At least that's what I thought

Now I'm second guessing every moment

Wondering where we went so wrong

He didn't really know much about Y/n except that she was new to Hell. Charlie had mentioned off hand that she had died in an incident of domestic abuse. Lucifer had no idea why she had ended up in Hell or what she was really like. When he had visited the hotel the first time, Y/n had been quiet and reserved. She had stood to the side and watched, barley even introducing herself to him.

At first, he had thought it to be disrespect. Not every demon in Hell was his biggest fan after all and while he was used to it, it still stung that even one of his daughters would be reformed sinners would be blatantly rude to him. He had quickly realized however from her flittering eyes and the way she clutched at herself that it wasn't disrespect at all. Y/n had been nervous.

Of course, Lucifer had made an attempt to make her feel more comfortable but, when he had extended his metaphorical hand, Y/n had just closed herself off even further. According to Charlie and Angel Dust, that was just what the demoness was like. She was shy.

You got inside my head

Taking up every inch of space

'Til there was no room left

Her hands flew across the keys with a practiced grace. Lucifer felt she knew he was there, watching. He felt that she just might be performing for him.

So many parts of me erased

You had my heart

And tossed it in the dirt

As he listened to the words she sung, they resonated with him. For a split second, he could have sworn it was Lilith sitting there at the piano, not Y/n. He shut his eyes, shaking his head slightly. He was oddly grateful when he opened them again to find it had just been his imagination.

Now that was a first. Since Lilith had disappeared seven years ago, Lucifer had been a mess. Lucifer was always a mess but, Lilith leaving like that really did him in. She had been his rock, his guiding light, his everything. He had risked everything for her and he had lost. At least, back in the old days, he had gained something out of the chaos. A daughter, a wife, a world to try and shape. One after another, they were all taken from him. Even now, even with their relationship improving the way it was, he felt Charlie slipping away again.

Now I'm second guessing every moment

Wondering where we went so wrong

I just keep asking

Would this have been worth it if I knew the ending all along.

Without really thinking about it, Lucifer retook his normal form and sat down in one of the auditorium's front row seats. Thankfully, Y/n was too wrapped up in her own world to notice and she just continued to play.

What started so perfect was over too fast

I should have seen the warning signs

'Cause perfect doesn't last

Perfect doesn't last

Light shined off her face, that was how Lucifer had realized she was crying. Despite the tears, her voice never wavered. A performer at her core, just like him.

I would have bet on us

We were untouchable, you and I

As the last lingering notes echoed through the room, he began to clap. Y/n jumped at the noise, turning to face him with wide eyes and cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. Lucifer was undeterred and, getting to his feet, gave her a standing ovation. After a few moments, he ceased in his applause.

"That was beautiful." he said, breaking the new silence that had fallen between them.

"Um, I'm sorry." Y/n's gaze fell back to the piano.

"No! No no no!" Lucifer exclaimed, jumping up onto the stage.

He kneeled before her, lifting her hands from her lap and taking them in his own. She turned to him, surprise drawing out the features of her face once again.

"Don't apologize for taking up space."

"I... I just didn't mean to disturb you is all. If you're looking for Charlie, she's out at the movies with everyone else."

"I was but, I can talk to her later, when she gets back. You didn't disturb me at all, Y/n. As I said, it was beautiful. It was..."

He trailed off, the smile slipping from his face.

"Oh fuck!" Y/n exclaimed, "I didn't mean to upset you! I'm really sorry, what can I do to make it better?"

"You didn't upset me." Lucifer shook his head, "You just... somehow managed to put words to the very things I've been struggling with the past couple years."

A smaller, much kinder and more genuine smile made its way onto his face.

"If you'd like to play more, I'd love to hear it."

Y/n's cheeks flushed red again.

"Theres no pressure." Lucifer shrugged, "Just giving you the option."

"An audience of one... well, it's a little intimidating." she admitted bashfully, "I'm used to the faceless mob of the crowd."

"I can see why. You have an undeniable gift."

"I guess... I don't know. Charlie just said it might help me process stuff. To play again, I mean."

"Was she right?"

Y/n paused in thought for a moment before nodding slowly.

"I think she might have been. My chest does feel a little lighter now."

"Then play."

"Um, mister... king of Hell? Sir?"

Lucifer laughed.

"You can just call me by my name. No formalities necessary. 'Mister king of Hell sir' was my fathers name."

Y/n laughed lightly at his terrible joke. The sound sparked a sudden joy in Lucifer's chest, one he hadn't felt in quite a long time.

"Well, Lucifer." she began again, stumbling a bit over his name.

"Yes?"

"I'll... um, I'll need my hands back. If I'm to keep playing."

"Wh..."

He looked down and his eyes widened. Lucifer hadn't realized he had still held her hands in his. Immediately he dropped them, getting to his feet and looking away in mild embarrassment.

"Sorry, about that."

"Don't apologize for existing." Y/n parroted his earlier words.

When he turned back to her, it was to find she was smiling slightly.

"How bad would it be if I said sorry again right now?"

"You'd be sounding like me."

"Lets make a deal then: no sorries unless something is actually wrong."

"What if I can't tell if your mad at me or not?"

Lucifer looked down at the seated demon. In not one of his wildest dreams could he ever imagine being mad at her but, that wasn't exactly something he could say.

"Then you can always ask."

"And you promise you wont lie to me?"

"I promise."

"Promise promise?"

"Yes!"

She eyed him suspiciously for a moment before nodding her head. Turning back to the piano, her hands found their place on the keys once again. She hesitated.

"I..." Y/n shot Lucifer a look over her shoulder, "Thank you."

"Thank you. There is some solace in knowing someone else out there feels the same way I do, if for different reasons."

"Yeah. There is, isn't there? Maybe part of our deal can be helping each other figure that all out too."

The suggestion had been half thought out. Y/n hadn't really meant to give it a voice, it had escaped her locked lips. She quickly turned back to the piano.

"Sorry. That was dumb."

"What did we just say about sorries!" Lucifer exclaimed, "No apologizing for existing. I think that suggestion sounds rather nice."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Okay. I... I'm actually going to play now. Is that okay?"

With a snap of his fingers, Lucifer reappeared in the seat he had previously inhabited. He crossed his legs, resting his hands on his knee.

"Whenever your ready."

----

Song is Perfect Doesn't Last by Beth Crowley as requested :)

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thewidowsledger · 1 month

Text

The Call

Chapter 2: 10 Things I Hate About You | 3.9k

Summary: You were supposed to take her out—the infamous Black Widow—Natasha Romanoff. The S.H.I.E.L.D. has been keeping an eye on her for a while now and for some reason, another high-ranking agent as you was sent to get the mission done. But then, he made a different call leading the mission to be here in front of you, soon to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.

Pairings: Ex-Russian Agent Natasha Romanoff x Senior S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Female Reader

Warnings: 18+, bad writing, slow burn, angst, cheating👀 cursing, mean r

Author's Note: Madisynn with two n's, one y but it's not where you think it is💅 I might not be able to update for a week or 2, I have a big recitation and debate coming up and I really need to study because I don't want to be an air bender. I'll still stop by and check in, xo.

Navigation | Masterlist | Series Masterlist

⧗

Three months had passed since Natasha Romanoff joined SHIELD, and everything was running smoothly. You had managed to maintain a professional distance, only interacting with her when necessary for work or missions.

Under your guidance, the tasks and missions had been executed without any significant issues. The agents under your wing were performing well, and the overall atmosphere in the unit was productive and efficient...but the unspeakable tension never left when the redhead is around.

“We should invite Y/N for lunch.” Yelena murmured to herself as she walked with Natasha with their packed lunch in the S.H.I.E.L.D. compound.

Much to her surprise, Natasha overheard what she just said and immediately responded. “No, we can't do that.”

Yelena's mind instantly seized on the opportunity. A sly grin formed on her face as she retorted, “You know what? You should invite her for lunch.”

She looked around, before whisper-shouting to Yelena, “Are you nuts?!”

“Come on, Nat. We talked about this, that we’re gonna invite her for lunch sometime.” Yelena said, her tone light and playful, “It's just lunch. What's the worst that could happen?”

“She'll probably glare at me the entire time and refuse to eat!” Natasha freaked out. Yelena had always told the redhead that they should invite you for lunch some time and she never expected that, that some time is right now.

“She hates me, Yelena. And everybody knows that.” Natasha continued, now muttering under her breath. “So no, sorry if I won't ask her to have lunch with us but If you wanna go and have lunch with her Yelena, that's fine with m—”

“You two gonna have lunch?”

Yelena and Natasha froze in surprise as they suddenly became aware of your presence.

The two agents looked back at where you came from and Yelena excitedly waved at you, her childish demeanor on full display—as always. She turned to Natasha, a hint of mischief in her eyes.

“Actually,” Yelena added, “Natasha here wanted to invite you to lunch,” coughing playfuly as she pat her partner's shoulder.

Your head tilted slightly to the side, “Oh really, Agent Romanoff?”

Natasha, her heart racing, had no choice but managed to stutter out a soft “Yes,” even though a while ago she was so against having to invite you for lunch.

“I might have to pass.”

Of course you will, she had already expected that response. She had expected your rejection. How could you say yes when you cannot even be in the same room with her around? Natasha thought—though you actually never let her out your office.

But deep down, she had harbored a small hope that you would somehow say…yes.

“Oh, that's fine with us.” Yelena said trying to break the tension that has been slowly and painfully building up, she gave Natasha a discreet nudge, signaling her to respond.

“Yeah, yeah all good,” Natasha eyed you with a faint smile, for the first time you were able to take a good look at her eyes. It was her first time too, actually. Finally having the courage to look at you straight in the eye as if she really wanted you to notice the trace of disappointment in them.

Trying to shake off the thoughts creeping in your head. You blinked as you turned to focus on Yelena, “Lena, can you go to my office after? Just about the team-building coming up.”

“Oh yeah sure,” the agent replied cheekily.

“I’ll see you, then. You two, enjoy your lunch.”

“Yeah...you too,” this time, it's Natasha who replied, looking down onto the lunch she had meticulously prepared for two.

⧗

“She hates me, Yelena. And everybody knows that.”

You did send her to a more difficult mission compared to any other agents under your wing. Yes, and you’re just being reasonable you thought, plus, you know those missions are just nothing to her. Do you make her come early to the office just to see her struggle with the tasks you give her in the past 2 months? Yes. And you’ll continue to do it? Of course you will.

Do you hate her?

No.

But you did hate it when one of your agents called her a ‘killer’ during one of your meetings. You immediately used your power of being the daughter of the director to have the agent transferred from a different unit, if only you could have him terminated out of S.H.I.E.L.D. but you refrained from taking such actions, you still have remorse and you still see the value that agent held in the agency.

Oh, you certainly also hated it when Madisynn told you that Natasha will go out to have lunch with other agents in different unit because they invited her. So you immediately asked Madisynn to call her before she could even step out of the building. She came in your office chasing her breath because she had to ran from all the way up to your office, you assigned her an enormous pile of paperwork, effectively preventing her from accepting any social engagements or from seeing some agents…or anyone she's supposed to be seeing and to ensure that she remained in your office with you for the entire day.

Did you hate it when you noticed an agent getting too comfortable with her during break time, leaning in close, even touching her biceps? Oh, you were mad. So you reprimanded Natasha even though she had no idea what she did wrong. The next day, when the same agent attempted to engage her in conversation and asked her for late-night drink, you were smugly satisfied to see Natasha politely decline the invitation without a second thought. Seeing the agent make a pouty face and even attempted to cling to Natasha again only for her to swiftly sidestep the touch. Though some part of you wished to see Natasha to completely ignore the agent but you knew Natasha is... too soft? To do that?

So...you're jealous of her?

No. But you don't like it when people get too close to her.

Well, do you hate her then?

No. But you hate it when she's too nice to the other agents, she was an assassin for fuck's sake—the Black Widow. She was supposed to be harsh, cold and intimidating. But all you see is a gentle woman radiating with warmth and kindness, effortlessly extending small gestures of courtesy. You hate it during meetings, when she habitually holds the door open for others, and you also hate it when she takes it upon herself to carry the heaviest boxes of files. You hate it when she asks her colleagues if they had lunch already, and oh god, you also hated how her lunch smells good all the time.

You hated how she was still able to do all these after you gave her excessive amounts of paperwork, almost putting her on a desk job. Despite the mountain of tasks you had thrown her way, you hated how she still managed to smile at you, taking everything you give her, accepting your toughness towards her. You hated these simple things she does.

This is not the reputation of an assassin—of the Black Widow. It feels like you just wasted everything you've done in this mission, her being your mission. This is not the one you’ve seen on the files you had, the ones you studied almost half of your life and you hated it, you hated how wrong those papers are.

How wrong you are.

“So what about the team-building?” Yelena asked, as she walked to your office not caring even a single knock

“Fuck,” you cursed under your breath, the blonde’s unexpected arrival catching you off guard. Your tried removing the things you have been questioning and answering at the same time in your mind.

Yelena chuckled as she observed your shocked reaction. “Y/N, relax,” she said between giggles.

You tried to regain your composure after getting startled by the agent's sudden entrance. “You finished your lunch that quick?” You coughed, pretending to look for some files down your desk cabinet.

You didn't miss how the agent chuckled and winked as she sat down in the chair opposite your desk. “You know how I eat, boss,” she remarked, “So, about the team-building event…”

You informed her about the upcoming team-building event, it is an annual gathering organized for the entire agency of S.H.I.E.L.D. and it will be coming a little early this year. An opportunity for various units to come together to have fun and at the same time bond with others.

“So is she going to be there again?”

The question made you stop from pretending that you were doing something, you were in a very awkward position right now, having to seat from your chair and crouching down to the lower cabinet on your desk. You slowly look up not at her but at your computer screen pretending once again, “Who?”

“You know damn well who I'm talking about.” she scoffed, the agent leaned forward to you snatching a paper and a pen from your desk.

“Yelena, it's been 2 years…” you sighed and chuckled, pretending to scroll on your computer when you were just drawing circles on the wallpaper. It was a picture of you, your mother and Fury in a car.

“You know how I hate that we get to have this team-building thing because that means I’m going to see that bitch.” She scribbled on the paper like a kid and flashed it in front of you where “Beware: Earthquake incoming,” is written on it.

You couldn't help but smile and shake your head at her dramatic flair but your insides are getting tense once again at the topic.

“Here, someone wants to give this to you.” She handed you a paper bag.

“Who?” You suspiciously inquired as you accepted the bag.

“If I tell you, you’re not gonna eat it.”

“Of course not, what if it has poison?” You carefully examine the bag and you are welcomed by the familiar scent of peanut butter and strawberries.

“You know what? Stop being mean and eat. You’re so skinny.”

“Hey, I'm still your senior, you might wanna watch that mouth,” you retorted, trying to maintain a sense of authority around the blonde and kinda... threatening her.

But Yelena ignored your words and continued to tease you, asking, “What do we do during an earthquake, Y/N?” With a coy smile, she sing-songed, “Duck, cover, and hold.” She winked at you before disappearing behind the doors of your office.

You sighed as soon as she was gone, you were blankly staring at the wrapped sandwiches and a strawberry yogurt inside the paperbag. You have no energy to eat not because you know who gave this food but about the topic that the blonde had brought up, it hit you hard enough to made you lose your appetite.

“I'll be okay,” you squeeze your eye shut and breathe clutching the paperbag on your lap.

⧗

“So we're really supposed to wear this?” Natasha questioned, referring to the pink shirt that was assigned as the color for your unit's team uniform for the team-building.

The agent, Madisynn, nodded in sassily, stating, “Uh huh, last year our color was orange. We looked like prisoners.”

Natasha let out a soft chuckle at the agent's witty remark. She surveyed the hall, taking in the various colors worn by other agents, unconsciously searching for the familiar shade of pink associated with her color hoping to see Yelena but she didn't see any sign of her but instead Natasha saw an agent wearing a blue coded shirt walking-running towards her direction.

He gave Natasha a forced smile but turned serious to the agent beside her, “Madi, duck, cover and hold.” The agent in a blue shirt whisper-shouted to her.

“Oh my goodness gracious I completely forgot about her.” She hastily collected her belongings, shoving her tumbler inside her tote bag.

“Hey, where are you going?” Natasha, noticing her teammate's distress, quickly questioned as if she's scared to be left alone she then also gathered her things. The agent in a blue shirt was already gone.

Before Madisynn had a chance to stand up, a figure blocked her path, “Hey Mad, where's Y/N?”

Madisynn's voice trembled as she replied, “H-hey Daisy.” She kept her head down, “I-uhh I don't know…” She held her bag tightly like a nervous teenage girl being confronted by a bully. Natasha, who was sitting beside Madisynn, rose to her feet, leveling Daisy.

Daisy shifted her gaze to Natasha, looking her up and down before finally speaking. “You must be…” she began, a sly smile on her face, “the infamous Black Widow, I’m Agent Johnson.” She extended a hand towards Natasha.

Natasha, unflinching, just stared back at her. Madisynn who is starting to feel the tension growing between the two, quickly grabbed Natasha's wrist, “Sorry Daize, we're gonna go now.” She apologetically replied leaving the agent who was looking for you behind.

“Who's that?” Natasha asked Madisynn as she was practically getting dragged by her.

“You heard her, she's Daisy. Agent Daisy Johnson…Quake.” Madisynn frustratingly scrambled.

“Why is she looking for Y/N?”

Madisynn was still panicking but she managed to inhale to focus herself, this will be a long history, “Hngkay, I don't think I am allowed to say this, but…” She paused, loosening her grip on Natasha's hand. Zaila pushed Natasha towards the wall, enough to keep them hidden from the agents inside the hall. She breathe in and out, her hands and new made nails flexing in front of the redhead, “That's the boss's ex.”

Natasha repeated, sounding surprised, “Ex?”

Madisynn looked around before confirming, “Uh huh, ex. Ex-fiance, actually.”

“Please don't tell anyone I told you. Just pretend you don't know anything about it, hngkay?” She looked Natasha dead in the eyes, silently pleading—no by the looks of her she was kind of threatening her. Though keeping this secret doesn't really make sense since everyone in S.H.I.E.L.D. knew the scandal that had happened between you and Daisy, except Natasha of course.

“Yes, I promise.” Natasha nodded slowly, she was still trying to grasp the information. It was a shocking one, almost too much for her, you were once engaged?

You were capable of loving?

Madisynn continued, “It happened two years ago, Daisy cheated on Y/N and Director Fury transferred her to Coulson’s division because of what she did. That's why we don't see Daisy much around here anymore.”

“So?” Natasha furrowing her brows, “What does she want with Y/N now?”

“Since her transfer, the only times she gets to see Y/N are during the team-building. Even outside or like public Daisy cannot seem to find Y/N, and of course boss wouldn't let her or the director,” Madisynn explained, “It’s very obvious you know? She kinda wants to hnggg…”

“Win her back?” Natasha continued for her.

“Ex-ectly.”

Madisynn received a series of heads up from several agents around them.

“Hey Mad, Coulson's team is already here. Did you see?”

“Where's Y/N, Madisynn?”

“Earthquake’s here.”

“Duck, cover and hold y’all.”

Madisynn just gave them a smile and thumbs up never failing to showcase her nails, still grateful for the heads up and concern for her boss. She looked at Natasha with a sigh, “We need to find boss or at least Yelena.”

“Say no more ‘cause I’m here to save the day.”

As if on cue, Yelena appeared in view, her arms spread wide. Upon seeing her, the two agents could no longer hold back their laughter, taking in the sight of Yelena's oversized pink shirt.

She looked at her shirt, “C’mon, boss got a big size so she asked me to switch up.”

“Hngkay, tuck that in.” Madisynn pointed to Yelena, the blonde was flinched on how long Madisynn's nails are. She came closer to Yelena, and Yelena raised her hands side by side for her to tuck in her shirt in.

“Where is she?” Natasha then asked—trying to sound casual.

Yelena gave her a teasing look over Madisynn's shoulder who's fixing her big girl pink shirt. “In her office, don't worry, we all know that the earthquake’s here.” She winked.

“And how are we supposed to deal with that?” Madisynn asked.

“As usual. Duck, cover, and hold.” Yelena tugged her side bag, “Nat, you already know about the earthquake?”

Madisynn chimed in, confessing, “Hngkay, I told her,” she looked over Natasha, “'Cuz she the only agent who doesn't know about it.” She replied sassily.

Yelena just simply shrugged her shoulders. “Let's go get boss.”

⧗

You had been in a relationship with Daisy Johnson for three years. And you can remember it clear as the day when you opened the door to your apartment and was greeted by a sea of scattered roses, and there was Daisy on one knee, popping the question. You didn't even let her finish the question as you raced to her, repeating the word “yes” over and over again.

You’ve worked together for 5 years and you have always made a firm rule for yourself: never date a coworker and co-agent. You believed in keeping your professional and personal life separate, not mixing work with pleasure. But Daisy, ever insistent and persuasive, somehow wormed her way into your life, slowly melting your resolution. She even had your father, the usually reserved and cautious director, his approval.

The engagement continued for two more years, until you found her cheating on you. You found it in a very stupid way, really, she left her phone unattended during your movie nights. She's your fiance now and there is nothing wrong with checking your fiance’s phone, right? But you just happened to glance at the screen, no plans on checking it and then there you noticed a notification pop up. To your horror, it was a lewd photo of another girl. Your heart thudded in your chest as you instinctively scrolled back to the previous conversations, your hands trembling as it dawned to you, she was cheating on you. Thanks to you being a techy agent, you had access to information that most people didn't. With a few clicks, you discovered that Daisy's affair had been going on for a staggering seven months, right under your nose with someone whose name is Lincoln Campbell.

That night, you remember dialing your father's number with trembling hands. Your voice also trembled as you asked him to come and pick you up from Daisy's apartment. The silence on the other end told you he could sense something was wrong. As you stood outside the building, the cool night air did little to soothe the storm inside you.

You didn't tell him what happened yet, you don't even know how to. You don't know if it's the ego taking control but you don't want to be wrong, not in this—not with love.

Your whole life you don't want to be wrong, you hate being in a wrong stand, wrong point, being wrong in any ways. And now you hated how wrong you are thinking that this woman is going to be the person you're going to be with for the rest of your life. How wrong you are with the person you thought you're being right with, with the person you felt is the right one for you—for your soul and your heart.

But you were wrong the moment she wronged you.

As you headed towards your father's car, Daisy rushed to you and started pleading with you to stay. She followed you, banging on the car window and crying loudly in desperation. Your father, watching the situation getting out of hand, got out of the car to pacify Daisy. You watched through the car window, your heart heavy with turmoil as Daisy sobbed and pleaded, her pleas fading into the night as your father finally got her to let go.

“What happened?” Fury asks you as he drives the car, you were silently sobbing at the passenger seat and it's hurting him to see you like that. He looked at you scanning any bruises or physical marks, it made his stomach churn that the first thing he first thought was the idea of Daisy laying her hands on you.

“Talk to me, baby. Did she hurt you?”

“Only my heart,” you finally looked at him, your brows pinched together holding back your tears, “She cheated on me, papa.”

Daisy's disappearance from your work life was as sudden as the betrayal. No more flowers graced your desk and her presence was conspicuously absent from the office but you didn't bother to know. You live up on pretending that you didn't know that every agent in your division knows about what happened between the two of you. Your father transferred her to a different division, ensuring that you wouldn't have to cross paths with her ever again.

Not until this moment.

“Y/N?”

Daisy appeared at your office clutching a bouquet of flowers in her trembling hands. The sight of her caught you off guard, bringing back memories of happier times. Image of her in one knee, ring in her hand and the other picture was her reaction when you looked up at her with bloodshot eyes, holding her phone.

You studied her face for a moment—you don't know what to do—you were okay now—at least that's what you told yourself. You’ve finally moved on from her but the pain she caused? It's still somewhere deep in your heart and will only be felt by you if it was triggered and you don't want that to happen again.

As you stood fixing your pink shirt, Daisy attempted to start a conversation to call your attention.

“C-can I talk to you for a moment?” she stuttered. You turned to look at her as you tied your hair up, you tried to maintain it casual. “Sure, what is it?”

Daisy fidgeted nervously, clutching the bouquet in her hands, “I just wanted to apologize...for everything ‘cuz I never had a chance to do it. I gave you the space you need but I never got to see you again…”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, you're proud of how well you're handling this, but you cannot handle how the smell of the flowers making you sick to the stomach, “Daisy, it's all over now. Even before you apologize, I’m all over it. Your apology won't change what happened but it's okay, I am okay now and I hope you are too.”

She didn't expect this kind of reaction from you, she wanted you to be mad, angry, throw everything you see at your desk at her. Unveil the anger—the pain she had caused you after what she did.

Only if she knew what it took you to be this calm and forgiving.

“I miss us.” She bluntly admitted, “I miss you, Y/N. It was a stupid mista—”

You shook your head resolutely, maintaining your stance stopping her mid sentence as if you already know what’s going to come out of her mouth and you don't want to hear it.

“It wouldn't last for 7 months if it was a mistake, Daize,” you gave her a faint smile as you let the nickname fall off your lips. “Our ship has sailed. We can't go back.”

There is an unexpected knock on the door and it is an interruption you kind of needed right now. You glanced towards the door immediately calling out whoever it is, you're desperate for a save right now, “Come in.”

You actually expected that it was Yelena behind those doors but you were as stunned when Natasha entered the room, her eyes met Daisy who was glaring straight at her. Despite her cool exterior, there was a subtle tightening in her jaw as she registered the situation. Yelena made her come for you but what the blonde didn't know that the earthquake was in your office.

“The event’s about to start.”

Daisy bristled at Natasha's interruption, clearly annoyed by her presence. And she snapped, “We're still talking, can't you see that?”

“Daisy, I think it's over. You can leave now.”

Daisy looked like she wanted to argue further, but your resolute tone made it clear that the discussion was at an end. You don't want it to elevate to something else.

“Please, leave.” You added gently but firmly.

Daisy's eyes searched your face but she accepted the finality of your words. She placed the bouquet of flowers on your desk, her eyes lingering on them for a moment before looking up at you again. You just gave her a faint smile but to her, it's a hope.

As Daisy turned to leave, her gaze hardened as she shot a reproachful glare at Natasha. She had only seen Natasha two times but she couldn't help but feel threatened whenever the redhead’s around.

As soon as Daisy’s out of your office, you released a heavy breath as if you were holding them back the whole time that your you're with her.

“You can leave now too,” you told the redhead dismissively.

You were still composing yourself, breathing in and out when you noticed her stepping forward.

“Are y-you oka—”

“What?!” you snapped not letting her finish, you didn't even realize that she tried to show her concern by asking if you were okay. “I don't need your fucking pity, Agent Romanoff, so out,” you huffed, putting an emphasis on her formal title to show that there's a line between your work life and private life. You do know every crumbs of her but you don't want her to know a detail of you or your past.

But in a second as if the wind blew in a different direction, you suddenly mentally cursed yourself as Natasha immediately nodded and retreated from your office. You hated how you reacted towards her, she saved you and you’ll just push her away? You asked your cheating ex-fiance nicely to leave your office, but Natasha who saved you from her received a snappy attitude from you?

Your heart raced in your chest, you felt a mix of confusing emotions swirling within you and you want to throw it up. You couldn't understand why you were so worried about hurting Natasha when you had always thought you won't go easy on her and wanted to be tougher with her—you want to break her. But now, you are facing a barrage of emotions that is going against your plan.

You were so calm as you and your ex-fiance who cheated on you talked for the first time again but right now you're all pent up with the frustrations, but not about her but your confusing feelings...for her? No, definitely not her but maybe to that one person who saved you minutes ago from your ex-fiance.

You then grabbed the bouquet and hurled it away, screaming, “Fuck!”

The Call: Masterlist

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff au #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x reader

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s1ckh1mb0 · 1 month

Text

🌷♡₊˚geek lover! eren🦢・₊✧

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This is a remake of the already geek lover eren, but specifically a sfw version but I actually really love this story

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Eren is a geek lover. He absolutely is enamored with you. Watching your lips with every word you spoke. The way you got excited telling him about every single new detail of the things you got interested in. Eren worked hard as a famous rnb singer, long days in the studio trying to perfect his songs. Then having to perform when he literally had the WORST anxiety known to man. It always felt like someone needed him and was on his ass about something.

But he did it all for you. So you can have everything your heart desired. He left nothing behind when it came to you. You wanted to see a new sci fi movie? He already bought out the theater. There’s a new podcast you like? He’s downloaded all the episodes for you on both yours and his phone. Don’t even get started on books. On your first date you mentioned you like to read and study psychology in your free time. Once you moved in he had your very own book room built for you. Carefully picking out each book for you on his own. Your own desk and room for you todo your writings in. He even surprised you with a laptop and camera so you can start your own podcast! He just wanted to show you how much he loved and supported you.

For moment like this were he could come home and listen to you tell him. About the things you've watched in your huge list of video essays that you had in a playlist on YouTube. How you lit up telling him different facts from how the dating game killer had a coworker that also happened to be a serial killer and he didn't know to the conspiracy theory of the 27 club, no matter what you said it always made you so happy and seeing you all giddy and stimming while you talked to him made him so content with his life.

"I know cotards syndrome, Koro, Diogenes, fregoli, hypochondria, pica, capgras, boanthropy, apotenmophilia, kulver bulcy, ekbom, erotomania, Stendhal. Pics is like one of the more well known. You know that show my strange addiction that we watch together? Yeah so like those people who eat the random shit like the lady who ate rocks- omg that reminds me!"

Erens ass was not listening one bit. He was watching you, watching your body. You guys had been apart for a little over a month so could do a very short tour in another country and he was sick as fuck that he couldn't bring you.

Everyone knew it too. His attitude fucking sucked that trip. He was antsy, his anxiety was through the roof, he snapped at everyone, overall he fucking hated it. But now, sitting here with you he finally felt at peace.

You were sitting on his lap, yapping his ear off.His eyes couldn't help but wander to your legs which lead him to notice you were wearing his boxers. Your hands thick thighs were filling them out so well. His hands moved to grip them as he watched you talk. You’d kill him later for not listening but he just felt so much dread when he was away from you that he couldn’t help but just stare at you forever.

“Rennie, papa are you okay? You’re getting all red. Are you feeling sick baby?”

You were worried, he had a bad history of getting sick easily. With him coming back from another country he could have likely caught something. It would hurt your heart to know he wasn’t feeling well.

“I’m fine baby. Keep going. I wanna hear you talk.”

“Are you sure baby? We can go lay down if you’d like.”

It warmed his heart how much you cared for him. You made him the man he was. He used to be so closed off to anyone that wasn’t your friends mikasa and armin. You taught him how to deal with the grief of life and got him therapy to get through the rough days of his depression. He just loved you so much and truly couldn’t imagine being anywhere without you.

“I’m fine baby, just missed you so much..”

For my girlie @merakidoll

#spotify #fanfic #x character #x reader #x black reader #x black plus size reader #x black male reader #x male reader #eren x male reader #eren jeager x reader #eren x reader #aot eren #eren x black fem!reader #eren x black reader #aot imagines #aot au #aot x reader #aot x black reader

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theabysss · 1 year

Text

Plush toy

pairing: sagau!Zhongli x Reader

summary: Zhongli performs his evening prayer, goes to bed and suddenly finds himself in your plush toy.

warnings: yandere, possessive & obsessive thoughts, religious + cult themes.

word count: 1.1k

note: Okay, I give up, I just can't stop writing at night. My body and inspiration are in cahoots to keep me from writing during the day. I ordered acrylic stands with Zhongli and Dottore, it remains to wait for them to arrive. Life is not so bad (looks askance at the last exam, it would be better without you)

Zhongli kneels and clasps his hands in prayer, as he has done so many times before. He was in his apartment on the harbor in a room dedicated to you, with a statue of you that he personally sculpted with his geo powers. Once at a time, he tried to capture your image in stone, and he considered this his attempt the most successful of all, even if it did not fully convey all your grace, mercy, power, beauty. But this is all he could be content with until the moment you go down to Teyvat physically.

On especially bad days, when his longing for you became especially strong, when he could no longer pretend that a life spent not in your radiance was meaningless, Zhongli stood in front of your statue for days, desperately praying. Praying for your return, not allowing himself to be interrupted for a second, whispering through cracked lips, when every word was a blade passing through a parched throat, he wanted to feel all your splendor, and not the pitiful crumbs that he felt next to the traveler.

His soul still found solace when you were around, even if your presence was ephemeral, but deep in his heart, Zhongli wanted to see your physical form. To be able to hear your voice, to see how emotions change on your face, to finally give all the gifts accumulated over the millennia. To dress you up in Liyue's best outfits made from the most expensive silk, feed you the most delicious meals, and be able to directly enjoy your divine presence, which always filled his heart with warmth. He desperately wanted it all, with all his draconic greed.

Zhongli finishes his daily evening prayer and, before leaving the room, takes one last look at your statue, full of longing and reverence. He performs evening routines, go to bed and slowly falls asleep, his last thought is about you. If he had a chance to see you even for a second, there's nothing he wouldn't do.

When Zhongli opens his eyes, his vision is very hazy and blurry, the body seems somehow cottony, completely motionless and small. He tries to blink and move, but he can't. When the vision finally becomes clear again, Zhongli's heart skips a beat and then begins to beat furiously. He sees you sitting at the table behind some strange luminous rectangle on which pictures move. Zhongli desperately tries to call you, but no sound escapes his lips. He couldn't move, couldn't speak. How could this happen? He just fell asleep, and now he was here next to you, though in some very strange state.

Everything becomes completely unimportant when Zhongli hears your laughter and notices your smile. You were beautiful, perfect, his wish came true, he was so close to you, directly watching you. For about fifteen more minutes, which seemed to him the most wonderful eternity in the world, Zhongli simply absorbed your emotions, your appearance, he was unable to get enough of you. You were his oasis in the middle of the desert to which he walked for five thousand years.

When the rectangle in front of you goes out, you get up from your seat and leave the room. He glares at you longingly, but now at least Zhongli has the opportunity to analyze the situation in which he finds himself. He collects his thoughts and tries to sort out his sensation and what he sees. A minute later, Zhongli comes to the conclusion that he was in a plush toy, out of the corner of his eye he can see others nearby. Well, it was strange, but he wasn't going to complain, rather, on the contrary, he was infinitely grateful for the opportunity to be near you, even so. It's true that you didn't seem to know about his presence, Zhongli wouldn't want to invade your life without permission, but it doesn't seem like he had a choice, he couldn't even close his eyes.

For the next half hour he hears a noise water and assumes that you are taking a bath. Zhongli can't help but look at the interior of your room, the colors in which it is decorated, the arrangement of furniture, trying to memorize as much as possible so that he can then reproduce the furnishings in Liyue later. All to increase the chances that you will like the place he created and want to stay.

Zhongli notices several photos, they show you with some people, joyful and smiling. Who were they? Other followers who have been given the great honor of being pictured with you in the same image? Or is it someone more important to you? The reason why you still have not descended to Teyvat fully, Zhongli feels jealousy and anger in his heart for those who dared to take your attention. But all negative thoughts fly out of his head when you return back to the room. You are wearing only a bathrobe and Zhongli definitely swallowed dryly if he could, your skin looks so soft, steamed, tender, the way it glistens in the lamplight, it makes the butterflies in his stomach flutter. It seems to him that he is not worthy to see this picture, the beautiful work of art that you are now.

When you approach and take him in your arms, Zhongli feels a moment of panic. Did you know he was here? How could he justify himself? But you just take him and go to bed. When you turn off the light and lie down next to him, he holds his breath. You cover yourself with a blanket and pull the toy that he was now towards you and Zhongli's mind thrashes about. It was all so much like a dream, a wonderful false dream, too beautiful to be true. Before you fall asleep, you kiss him briefly and he melts like a mist flower corolla on a hot day. Zhongli hears how your breathing becomes calmer and more measured and just enjoys this sound, gradually he is lulled, although he is desperately trying not to fall asleep so as not to miss a moment with you, but he does not succeed.

Zhongli wakes up from the sun's rays hitting his face, and as soon as memories reach him, he immediately jumps up on the bed, staring into the void in prostration. Did he dream everything? But you were so alive, so real in his memories. The whole next day, Zhongli is extremely confused and Hu Tao sends him home early, and he doesn't even try to dissuade her. You completely occupy all his thoughts, and in his heart the hope burns that this was something more than a dream. And when he goes to bed after the evening prayer, Zhongli longs to see you again. Just one more time.

Dragons were known for their greed, so he would never get enough. Always one more time and never the last. After all, the more he had, the more he wanted.

Reblogs, comments, are always greatly appreciated! ヽ(o^ ^o)ﾉ

#genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau x reader #genshin x reader #sagau #sagau x reader #sagau zhongli #sagau zhongli x reader #sagau cult au #yandere zhongli #theabysss writes

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amuyyi · 3 months

Text

recess .

synopsis; you were an ideal student. obedient, quiet, educated, and experienced. oh haewon was not. immature and childish, yet still above you academically and with everyone wrapped around her finger. everyone except you. you refuse to be reeled in by her natural charm and hope to make it out of this project alive, with or without her.

trope; non idol!haewon x fem!reader, sort of academic rivals to lovers, uni au, fluff,

wc; 5.1k

cw; some swearing

a/n; just wanted to write something a little silly :3 seeing haewon with kids is so </3 didnt proofread again and im zzzz

“… and Song y/n, your partner will be Oh Haewon.”

“WHAT?!” A pair of shrill voices rang out throughout the classroom, causing not only the students but also the professor to jump at the sudden sound.

You wildly grip at the pen within your hand, the plastic material beneath your fingers creaking and threatening to break at any second. No. There's no way you’re paired up with her.

Oh Haewon, second year university student, business major, and the bane of your existence.

She is loud, immature, annoying, always out partying, a chronic class-skipper, never pays attention during lectures, and never actually talks about the material during discussion. She claims that everything she does is a form of “networking,” but you don't buy it. It's all just an excuse to keep on slacking off. Despite this, almost everybody who came across Oh Haewon’s path practically fell in love with her at first sight.

Everyone except you.

The worst part about it all? Was the fact that she was seemingly the best performing student out of all the classes you two ended up taking together. She somehow managed to even beat you. No matter how good you do during exams or projects, or how long you dedicate to studying, Haewon always manages to get a higher score. You don’t think she even studies!

You, Song y/n, were a perfect student. Business major, second year, and valedictorian of your graduating high school class. You were quiet, but confident, you always turned your assignments in on time and dedicated many hours of rigorous study time for all of your classes. You held a paid internship on campus as well as an executive board position within a business club on campus and a volunteer organization as well. The odds were entirely in your favor.

Your horrified gaze slowly shifts towards the other girl from across the room, who sat in her seat with her hands dug deep within her dark bobbed hair. Seems like Haewon wasn't all too fond of the idea of being your partner either.

Timidly raising your hand, you try to speak up, try to fight for better treatment for you and your sanity, but the professors ice cold glare cuts you off as he speaks,

“As of now, partner assignments are final. If there are genuine issues between partners that hinder either one's ability to create an effective marketing strategy, come to me in a week. No sooner. I specifically hand picked your partners for a reason.”

You silently slump back down into your seat, defeated, and you can hear a faint thump from across the classroom. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Haewon’s face buried within her desk. Must’ve slammed her head into the table at the news. You would have done the same if you cared as little for your image as Haewon did.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The sound of snickering and nails quickly tapping against a phone screen was all you could hear within the silent study room. Your eyebrow twitches irritably as you try to focus on the powerpoint slide in front of you, but the words on the screen seem to melt into one another as you hear the girl slam her hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh.

Unable to subdue your temper, you slam your laptop screen shut, the sound bouncing off the rooms walls as Haewon jumps within her seat, nearly dropping her phone as she stares at you with comically wide eyes.

“Are you serious right now, Haewon? I haven’t even seen you actually add anything to the presentation since we got here.”

The shorter girl rolls her eyes as she leans back in her chair, avoiding your gaze as she responds, “We already established who’s doing what, I can just do it later,” She shrugs, and the careless sight irritates you to no end. “You do the more technical stuff like research, budgeting, or whatever, while I do the stuff that actually matters like target audience analysis and promotion– ‘cause I highly doubt you know how to actually charm potential investors with that stick up your a–”

Heat rapidly rushes to your face as you lunge forward across the table, hand slamming onto the table as you stick your finger in Haewon’s face to cut off her sentence. “That is just… So… Disgusting!! How can you even speak to me like that?!”

You knew how to socialize and talk to people…! It's just that nobody ever wanted to stick around, that's all… And you preferred it that way, actually. Nobody can drag you down if you simply stick to your numbers and graphs, no people involved.

Haewon snickers at your response as you sit back down, rubbing your temples as you try to steady your breathing, a bit embarrassed that you allowed yourself to snap like that in front of her of all people..

“Look, if you were just going to do it all at home, why are you still here?” You try to speak in a neutral tone, but it was difficult to remain composed after your outburst. You can feel your eyebrow twitching once again as you speak.

A sinister smirk forms on her lips as she finally looks you in the eye. “‘cause I know it pisses you off.”

You have to firmly bite the inside of your cheek to the point where you worry about drawing blood in order to hold yourself back from tackling this girl and beating her to a pulp right then and there. Taking a deep breath, you simply open your laptop and get back to organizing the format of the presentation in silence. Fine then. She can go on and be that way and be uncooperative. What did it matter to you? It seemed like you had to do most of the work, as always. From above the top of your laptop, you can spot Haewon rolling her eyes once again and resume texting whoever may be taking her attention away on the phone.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Unfortunately, Haewon was not as incapable as you expected her to be. She actually put some effort into her parts of the project, and they were actually pretty good. She knew exactly what people wanted, and even proposed ideas you never would have thought to be effective on your own. Haewon was a people’s person, and people with that kind of natural charm make it far within the world of business. Asking to change partners would prove inefficient for you.

You’d never tell her that to her face though.

For the rest of the month, you and Haewon had come to a mutual agreement. Meet once a week on Wednesdays, around 2-4 PM at the business building on campus. Work on the project, then leave. More often than not, the two of you would work in silence, and you simply chose to not make any comments if she happened to be on her phone giggling to herself during the session. She wasn’t worth it. Besides, you had other things to worry about. Upcoming midterms, exec board event planning, your internship. It was a lot, but you could handle it as long as everything went according to your precise and calculated schedule.

Haewon had been pretty respectful of your established meeting time for the past three weeks, but of course, something had to come up when week four came around. Right when you had another major presentation for your business club to prepare for as well. You had been settled down into the study room you always rented out every Wednesday tapping away at your laptop when your phone vibrated. Unusual. You had do not disturb on.

Oh Haewon [13:55] – hey

Oh Haewon [13:55] – i wont be able to make it to the business building on time today

Oh Haewon [13:55] – i would ask to rain check but i know ull throw a fit bc i ruined ur schedule or sum

Oh Haewon [13:55] – so can u just meet me at the child development lab instead?

… Child development laboratory? Your eyebrows knit together as you stare at the text on your screen. What could she possibly be doing there?

Come to think of it, you don’t really know much about Haewon to begin with. You tried to rack your brain for any information about your class partner outside of the obvious, and… Nothing. You knew nothing of her hobbies, interests, actual activity outside of her public outings. Not that she really mattered or interested you in the slightest, but the idea of simply being out of the loop with someone who played a major part in your weekly schedule made you a bit… Uncomfortable?

Sighing, you begin to pack up your belongings. She could have at least told you this before you already arrived and got settled in the private study room. That's what you get for being 30 minutes early to everything, you suppose. You now either have to move everything in your schedule back, or do a whole revamp of the entire week. You take a breath. It’ll be fine.

If your memory serves you correctly (in which it always does) the next bus that arrives will take you near the lab. An annoyed huff leaves your lips as you zip up your bag. So much for routine.

Your phone rings out one more time.

Oh Haewon [14:07] — skasdkfj apple kjj k

You’re convinced Oh Haewon has officially gone crazy.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

After hopping off the bus and walking in whatever direction Google Maps told you to go, you eventually found yourself at the doors of a building you’ve only ever occasionally passed by on walks. It had a mural of multiple colorful images along its walls, from a giant sun with a smiley face to different kinds of flowers and other doodles scribbled on the brick. Your eyes shift towards the side, where a fenced in play area lay. The sounds of multiple children laughing and screaming made a small smile form on your lips, and you couldn’t help but approach the edge of the fence to watch the young ones play.

You weren’t all too big on kids, more focused on your own academics and staying afloat while in university, but the sight of them still managed to soften your harsh demeanor. They were so innocent and pure, you sometimes wish you could go back in time and relive your childhood once more. You catch sight of a little girl chasing another, flower in hand. The both of them laughing excitedly before one screamed out, “let's go show Haewon-unnie!!”

Haewon-unnie?

Cocking your head to the side in confusion, you watch as the pair of girls scamper towards the wall of the building, where a very preoccupied Haewon remains, squatting down while a horde of children literally climb all over her. One of the kids had a hold of her phone, and another was choking her, his arms wrapped around her neck in an attempt to dangle off of her like some sort of monkey bar.

You would’ve laughed at the sight if it didn’t look like Haewon was on the brink of actually getting taken out by a mass of children.

“Haewon?” You call out.

The smothered girl’s head whips towards the direction of your voice, though she struggled to exactly spot you as one of the little girls started to cover her eyes very aggressively as she begged for a turn to play with Haewon.

“Y-Y/n?” She squeaks out, gently shaking the climbing kids off her as she meets you at the fence, one of the kids in her arms as the rest of the kids flock after her. It almost looked like she was a mother duck with her little ducklings.

The child in her arms was holding a rolled up pillbug, and you find yourself incing away at the sight of the isopod, a bit deterred from bugs. “Hey,” Haewon simply greets, looking a bit exhausted, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the kids or the sight of you.

“Hey…” you greet back awkwardly, looking down at all of the kids by Haewons feet. You had no idea how old they were— honestly you had no idea how kids of specific ages were supposed to look like, but with how these kids were acting, you assumed they were possibly around kindergarten age?

Each and every kid had something very interesting to say.

“Haewon-unnie, can you please play pretend with us? We need a dog!!”

“Haewon-noona, look at this dead mantis I found!!”

“Haewon-unnie, who's that?? She's reaaallllyy pretty !! Can she play with us?”

“Yeah yeah!! Can she? Huh??”

Haewons face immediately flushes red as she uses her free hand to cover one of the little girl’s face in its entirety as she goes, “Hyunjoo, shush!”

You cover your mouth with your hand to hide the smile forming on your lips, “So… Is this what's stopping you from being able to meet today?”

An exasperated sigh escapes Haewons lips as she nods, “I can't leave until one of the workers or researchers on shift turns up and it's been like an hour and nobody has shown.”

A small frown tugs on your lips as you listen to what Haewon has to say, watching as multiple children tug at the hem of her shirt from every direction, and one was even trying to untie her shoe. Haewon looked.. Helpless, albeit a bit desperate as well. None of this was your problem really, worst case scenario you just had to do Haewon’s half of the work that was meant to be completed today. Yet you still find yourself looking between the overwhelmed Haewon and the kids and feel a sense of familiarity towards the circumstance… You can't believe you were doing this.

“I.. Can probably help you out until someone arrives.”

Haewons eyes widen as the kid in her arms tries to feed her the pillbug, in which she arches her head away as she speaks, “Really? I wont be messing up your perfectly punctual schedule you have for today? I bet you had to make some sacrifices to come here.” She teases near the end of her sentence, and you feel your face heating up once again.

“I don't….!” You exhale, “Have a schedule…” You lie through your gritted teeth before shaking your head, “Look, do you want my help or not? The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get back to–”

“The project, yeah yeah I know. That's all it is with you, isn't it?”

Offended, you open your mouth to retort until Haewon opens up the fence gate to allow you in, immediately sending around two or three children your way, tugging at your hands, shirt, and pant legs as they guide you inside.

“Don’t be too rough with her, guys!”

For the next hour or so, you had learned a lot whilst working with the children at the lab.

For starters, you had learned that Hyunjoo had a crush on Jeonghyun last week, but now has a crush on Hwan after Jeonghyun accidentally spilt grape juice on her dress. Also, Bora and Somin are best friends, but only one of them got invited to Kiwoo’s birthday party on Saturday, so there's some unresolved tension in the air.

Alongside the lives of these children at the facility, you also learned a bit about Haewon.

“Yeah, I spend my free time volunteering here when I don’t have class. There's not a lot of teachers here who research, and there's even less students majoring in child education or anywhere else in a similar, so I figured it’d be nice to help out while my schedule is still free,” Haewon says while sat down in a comically small chair, watching as a small girl pours muddy dirt water from a toy teapot into her even tinier toy teacup.

“A lot of parents within the town need a place to drop their kids off while they work their usual nine to fives, and the children's education department needs all the help it can get. Sometimes I skip class to cover shifts just so these kids aren't alone… And sometimes I just skip because I’m hungover,” she chuckles.

You feel your heart melt a bit at Haewon’s words as you hold one end of a jump rope, aiding the two girls from before in their game. Haewon was actually… Sweet? At least with kids. They all seemed to naturally flock to her, and she had no problem talking and interacting with them in return. You on the other hand were a bit awkward with the kids, but it was alright because kids don’t think anything is awkward at this age. This wasn't the lazy, inconsiderate asshole you’ve been despising for the past year.

Staying silent, you nod as you simply listen to Haewon ramble on, sharing little tid bits and stories of her life you never would have heard otherwise.

“I tried to get my roommate, Jinsol, to join me one day and it went to actual shi– I mean, it went horribly,” Haewon corrected herself with a very indiscreet cough before continuing on, “They all ignored her! When she tried talking to them she made the kids cry. She didn't even do anything and they already didn't like her!” She laughs out as she makes her way to tend to another kid, a little boy latched onto her leg as she goofily limps her way across the playground.

“Still, I’m surprised they like you so much. You’re normally such a stick in the mud. Maybe the kids see something I don't.”

Furrowing your brows, you look back at Haewon, but she was already preoccupied trying to separate two boys that were trying to make beetles fight in a plastic bucket. See something she doesn't? What does she even mean by that?

The children had the both of you running around like headless chickens. A pair of girls wanted to play house with you two, and assigned you and Haewon as “mom” and “dad.” Needless to say, it was awkward, the first interactions between you and the shorter girl being rather stiff and tense– but you also learned that you are actually an incredible child actor once you got into it, and played the role of “mommy” perfectly in (all of) their eyes.

Another pair of boys wanted to use you and Haewon for a piggy back ride race. Apparently, being cooped up inside studying all of the time did not make you the most fit person, and Haewon quite literally left you and your piggyback partner in the dust. You couldn’t be mad about it though, she the kid looked happy.

In due time, a fellow university student finally arrived, apologizing profusely for the tardiness as Haewon simply waves her off, insisting it wasn’t a big deal and she wore out the kids to make things easier for the next shift.

The pair of you wave goodbye to the kids as you close the fence gate behind you, dusting off your hands as Haewon lets out a sigh of relief, taking a moment to relax and stretch as a cool breeze picks up. You decide to close your eyes and take in the peace as well. You don't know when was the last time you really did anything “fun” or even let loose for that matter. The kids were a lot, but it was refreshing. Different.

The sound of Haewons stomach growling breaks the comforting silence, and you open your eyes, looking at the shorter girl with a quirked brow.

“Have you not eaten yet?”

“Ahah… No.” She sheepishly comments, “Normally I grab something to bite between my shift and our study sesh on Wednesday, but I’ve been helping out for hours by now.”

Unexpectedly, a wave of concern washes over you as she speaks.

“It doesn’t matter though, let's find somewhere to finish up the last part of our project and we can finally leave each other alo–”

“You’re going to eat.” The words almost seemed foreign coming out of your mouth, or perhaps they felt that way because you were speaking them to Haewon.

Confused, Haewon stares at you as if you’ve grown a second head. “What?”

“You’re going to eat,” you repeat matter of factly, “You can't focus on the project if you’re hungry.”

Quickly tapping into your phone and looking into google maps, you were quickly able to find a restaurant nearby for the two of you to dine at.

“There's a restaurant about a 10 minute walk away from here. It closes at 7. We’re going.”

Before Haewon can even get a proper response out, you had already grabbed onto her wrist. You really didn’t want to think too hard about what you were doing… What are you even doing? Shaking your head, you drag her down the street, the bob haired girl nearly tripping on her own two feet before she falls in line next to you, just about as confused and unsure as you were.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The walk to the restaurant was… Fine. Albeit a bit awkward. Haewon wasn’t really expecting you to take her somewhere to do anything but study, and you weren't really expecting yourself to do that either. Apparently Haewon was the type to strike up conversation when things become awkward– unfortunately for the both of you, you were the complete opposite. So for the next 10 minutes, Haewon would make some off comment and you would simply mumble or hum in response.

Soon enough the two of you arrive at the restaurant and its definitely more on the high-end side. Dark yet warm mood lighting illuminated the interior, and the pair of you were seated near a quiet corner of the establishment, a charming bell shaped light hovering above the two of you as you blink. This setup was a bit more… Romantic, than expected; but if the food was as good as the place looked, you decide it was worth looking past.

You were handed menus as well as lemon water, and you peek over the paper to look at the girl across from you.

“Order whatever you want, I'll pay.”

A dry laugh escapes Haewons lips as she places the menu back down on the table, “oh no you’re not.”

Her response catches you off guard, and it 100% was shown in the contortions on your face. You were certain she would have jumped on the opportunity for free food. This girl was simply full of surprises, wasn't she?

“You helped me out today with the kids, I’m paying you back like the gentlewoman I am.” Haewon’s statement was firm, but you were stubborn.

“Oh yeah? With what money?”

“Hey!! I work for my money! You don't know me as well as you think you do, y/n.”

“Uh huh… so tell me then. Who is the true Oh Haewon?”

After placing your orders (you had gotten malatang while Haewon very stubbornly got herself an order of galbi and a strawberry lemonade) Haewon props her elbows on the table, resting her chin on her hands as she smirks, “what do you want to know?”

You guys then proceeded to spend the next two hours eating and chatting. Turns out Haewon wasn't all too bad company when she wasn’t existing to purely spite you. Haewon shared many interesting things about herself, like how she actually doesn’t like drinking at the endless networking parties she attends, or how she was actually fluent in spanish, or how she had no idea what she wanted to do the first year of college, but ended up transferring into business because it was the only thing that simply clicked for her. After some pressure, she even caved in, reluctantly admitting to be… Envious of you?

“Me??”

“Uh, yeah! I mean I do well in my classes and stuff, but you practically reek of academic perfection— it's actually kind of sickening,” she snorts, taking a bite into the meat on her plate as you roll your eyes. “You’re basically every professors favorite ideal student.”

“Me?? The favorite??” You scoff, “I thought you were the favorite! You act out and talk about anything in class and the professors still love you regardless! You get nearly perfect grades on every exam and have a million friends in every department, you don’t even have to try!”

“Seriously? No way. I know I'm funny and all, but I know the professors are disappointed I wasn't involved with any extracurriculars or anything. Probably think I'm wasted potential.”

“Well I know for sure they were concerned I have like, no friends or connections. That's wasted potential.”

“Wait— do you think—“

A moment of realization hits both of you like a truck.

“Ohhhh… that's why professor Wang paired us up.”

“Yup.”

A short pause passes between the two before you snort, holding back a laugh as Haewon giggles, running a free hand through her hair as she shakes her head, “That's so dumb…”

Allowing a comfortable silence to pass, you finish up your food. It was good, and you kept your eyes out for the server to approach so you could pay. Haewon had excused herself to the bathroom, and you paid no mind to it as you absentmindedly scroll through your phone, remaining attentive to your surroundings as you do so.

After a few minutes, Haewon returns, a very untrustworthy smile curled on her lips as you squint at the sight. What is she trying to get at?

“Alright, let's head out!”

You look up at Haewon from your seat in confusion, “but I didnt pa—“

That familiar smug grin was plastered on Haewon’s face again. “I paid for it already.”

“What?! How? When?”

“I didn’t actually use the bathroom.” She snickers while leaning on the table, arms crossed in satisfaction.

Haewon seemed to have more manners than you expected as well, it seemed. She beat you at your own game, as she always seems to do. You’re left there shocked for what felt like a whole minute before you shake your head, chuckling dryly as you get out of your seat.

“Okay Oh Haewon, you win this time. Let's go.”

Haewon wiggles her eyebrows teasingly as she follows you out the doors, “‘this time,’ huh? Are you implying there will be a second time?”

You raise your hand to silence the shorter girl, and she can't help but laugh at the gesture. You bite your lip to hold back your own laughter, but a silent puff of air still manages to escape your feeble attempts.

Her eyes light up as she notices this. “Aha! I saw that! Come on now, y/n. Why are you holding back on me? What? Are you afraid to show any signs you might like me a little now?”

Under normal circumstances, you’d find yourself seething with rage at the other girl's comments. You’d think to yourself: who was she to poke fun at you? She's nothing but rude, childish, and every other insult above. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t be allowing yourself to laugh freely into the air, the sky above you and Haewon slowly morphing from blue to orange as you finally release all of the tension pent up within you.

But this wasn’t a normal circumstance. You honestly had no idea how you even really ended up here to be honest. You were supposed to be at home by now, typing away at yet another project for some big club or company in your large sea of responsibilities. Instead, you find yourself walking down the sidewalk on the outskirts of campus with no other than Oh Haewon, your (now seemingly one sided) academic rival, laughing away, and actually thoroughly enjoying her company.

The pair of you find yourselves back at the lab, but the air was quiet this time, the stars above beginning to emerge from the blanket of night. You lean your back back on the fence, arms propped up behind you as you look back at Haewon as she stands in front of you. You weren't that much taller than her, maybe by an inch or so, but the fact that she had to crane her neck ever so slightly in order to make eye contact with you gave you a teeny tiny ego boost.

You can’t believe you were smiling right now, and it was because of the girl in front of you. “Y’know, I thought I had you pegged, but turns out I was wrong. You’re not all too bad when you decide to be.”

Haewon grins playfully back at you, absentmindedly fiddling with her fingers as she nods, “You’re not as prissy and snobby as I thought you were either.”

You simply hum in response, taking a moment to look back up at the stars scattered throughout the sky. If you didn’t go out tonight, you would've missed all of this. You can't remember the last time you actually took a moment to enjoy the night. It was beautiful.

“So… About this ‘next time’ you mentioned…”

Your gaze shifts back down to Haewon, and you notice she's inched closer. Smiling, you remain leaning on the fence, undeterred. “What about it?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, y/n. Are you saying you want to see me again even after this project is done?”

It's finally your turn to be smug. “And what if I am?”

Haewon is caught off guard. “...Then… I would also like that.”

Your smile softens as you take one of her hands in yours. Haewon’s hands were surprisingly small, and also quite soft. You slowly raise it to your lips and plant a soft kiss on the back of it, letting the feeling linger for a moment before pulling away, still holding her hand in yours as you look at Haewon. Her pale skin turns bright red for the second time today. A soft laugh leaves your lips at the sight.

“Cute.”

Unfortunately, your romantic gestures are met with a punch to your side and a flustered groan as Haewon twirls around in an attempt to hide her face. “You really are annoying, you know that?!” She exclaims, already walking in the opposite direction as you chuckle. When was the last time you had fun like this?

“So. Same time next week?” You call out, and you’re very charmingly met with a childish middle finger stuck into the air. With that gesture alone, you already know she’ll make it to the next project meeting right on time.

#kpop x female reader #kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop x fem reader #gxg #gg fanfic #kpop gg x reader #kpop gg #oh haewon x reader #oh haewon x fem reader #haewon x reader #haewon x fem reader #nmixx #nmixx x reader #nmixx x fem reader #Spotify

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marwolaeth-76 · 10 months

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Please can you write fluff where the reader is Velvet and Veneer's younger sister? Like Velvet just hates the reader but Veneer adores her and stands up to Velve whenever she insults her.

Hello!! thank you for your request and thank you for waiting, I hope you like it🩷

Velvet & Veneer x younger sister

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You're Velvet and Veneer's little sister, pretty much younger. You always watch their concerts live with admiration, listening to their songs and being very proud of your elders, thinking about how when you grow up you will become the same as them. And finally, Velvet and Veneer must visit themselves at their parents' house. You were so excited for your big siblings to get home from their performance. When you heard their voices at the door, you ran to greet them. "Velvet! Veneer!" - Your voice is full of joy to finally meet your star brother and sister, your eyes sparkle when you see them. Velvet walked in with an annoyed look. "Ugh not so loud, jailbait, I've got a headache after arrival" - Velvet had never been particularly nice to you and Veneer, so you would expect that she wouldn't be very nice now either. On the one hand, you can understand her, she is the oldest child and before she always had to keep an eye on you. Your smile fell slightly, it still hurt you, but then Veneer swept you up in a hug. "Hey! There's my favorite sis! I missed you so much" You giggled and hugged him tight. Veneer always made you feel better when Velvet was mean. He gave you a kiss on the forehead before setting you down. "I missed you too! So how was the show?" You wanted them to tell everything about how they perform, you were so eager to hear about all their stories from their performances.

Seeing you hugging Veneer, and the way you said that you missed him.. Velvet for a second feels hurt deep in her heart, which means her little sister really didn't miss her best big sister? "It was great until this one messed up his lines" Velvet shot a glare at Veneer, her eyes were directed sharply towards him. Sighing, the singer released you from his embrace and straightened up. "I said I was sorry Vel, it was an accident." "Yeah sure. If you weren't so useless we'd be even bigger stars." Her harsh words made you frown. "Hey don't be mean to Veneer, Velvet, you both try and well..everyone can make mistakes" - For a second you thought that it wasn’t the best decision to contradict your older sister, but you didn’t want to see Veneer being hurt. Velvet rolled her eyes. "Oh please, you're just a little stupid kid. Go to your room and play with your toys, the adults are talking." - Now, she really went too far, you just wanted them not to quarrel, but received a new portion of negativity addressed to you. "Oh come on, we haven't seen the little one for so long, she doesn't need to leave.." - Veneer said gently, he didn’t want to anger her even more, but at the same time he would like to be in a less tense atmosphere at home. You smiled at him gratefully. Velvet huffed in annoyance. "Whatever, I'm going to rest. Just try to prevent me from getting a good sleep, I don't know what I'll do to you." - The older sister spoke with a bit of irritation, she rolled her eyes and turned around. With that she stalked off to her bedroom, leaving you and Veneer alone. He pulled you in for another hug. "Don't listen to her. Sis, you know that she says this not out of malice" You were a little offended by Velvet’s words, but you didn’t hold your anger for long, as Veneer, your beloved older brother, said. Still, you've known Velvet all your life, and it's time to get used to she's character.

♡♡♡♡♡

божж I feel like poop, I’m absolutely unable to come up with a plot for requests oh my god I just accidentally DELETED EVERYTHING I WRITTEN RIGHT NOW LITERALLY ☠️☠️☠️☠️

#velvet and veneer #trolls veneer #trolls band together #velvet trolls #trolls 3 #fluff #veneer x reader #velvet x reader

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kaliforniahigh · 2 months

Text

slow down, you're doing fine - n.s.

In honor of fluffy friday and Noah being back on stage this weekend, I decided to write this ball of fluff. Hope you guys enjoy it!

You can listen to Vienna by Billy Joel to get in the mood if you'd like. This song never fails to bring tears to my eyes and I feel like it goes with the fic.

Warnings: Noah is a little sad, mentions of insomnia, a little self-deprecation but it all ends well.

WC: 923.

Request something for fluffy friday!!!

You and Noah were roomates, and it wasn't atypical for you guys to knock on each other's door and slip into their room when one of you was having a particularly rough night, or when you couldn't sleep and just needed someone to chat with. Even though you did it way more often than Noah, there were still times he seeked your comfort.

You usually could tell when this was gonna happen. As much as he liked to think he could hide his feelings, you could always tell when he was having a hard time. In the hustle and bustle of preparing themselves to perform at Upheaval and Inkcarceration this weekend, you could tell something was plaguing his mind.

You knew he felt guilty about cancelling the other dates, even if you reassured him a thousand times that his health always comes first. You waited for him to say something, knowing if you confronted him about it, he would close himself off and say that everything is ok.

So when you laid down on your bed to sleep tonight, you waited for the soft knock and your door to open and reveal his figure coming into your room. But as you tried to keep yourself awake, you realized that it might not happen tonight, so you closed your eyes and opted to sleep instead.

A couple of hours later, you were awoken by a soft shake of your shoulders, and whispers of someone calling your name. Opening your eyes slowly, it didn't take much to adjust, since the room was still dark. But youou could make out Noah's sillouete in the shadows.

"Hi. What's wrong?", you asked him, still a little groggy from sleep.

"Can I sleep here?", he asked in a small voice, resembling a child waking up their parents to tell them they were scared of the dark. Noah wasn't a child anymore, but you could tell he was scared of something.

Not answering verbally, you just scooched over to the other side of the bed, lifting your comforter for him so slip under. He instantly curled into himself facing towards you. You gently ran your hand through his hair. You waited for him to make the first move, to tell you what was plaguing his mind. But even if he just wanted you to hold him, that's what you were gonna do.

"I just feel so sad", he admitted, with a shaky voice.

"Scared of what?", you kept your voice quiet, as if afraid to scare him away.

"It's just been so long since we've performed. What if I'm shit? What if people boo me for what I did? What if I don't sound right?"

You silently shushed him, stopping his rambling and self-deprecation "It hasn't been that long and you didn't do anything, it was a mutual decision", you pointed out, trying to get him to reason. You knew he always carried the weight on his shoulders, even if the other boys were completely ok with the decision.

"I know, but stil", you felt him fumbling with his hands, picking a nail here and there, showing you just how nervous he was about this.

"And if people boo you, I'll come out from the side stage and tell them to fuck off", you looked down and saw a hint of a smile on his face. You tapped the top of his head twice, a signal for him to look at you, as you continued "you're an amazing artist. And this rough patch does not define your career from now on. You were born for this, you just needed a little break to remind yourself how much you love doing what you do", you could sense you were getting through to him a little bit, by the way his body seemed to relax and his hands were no longer tied together in an act of restlessness.

"And if this weekend, you get up on that stage and you still don't feel comfortable being there, you're gonna take another 10 or 12 months. You're supposed to enjoy it, and if you don't, there is still some work to do", you paused, giving him the space to talk if he needed.

"I feel ready, I just feel nervous about how things are gonna go", he kept his eyes on yours, now feeling more confident to make eye contact.

"You don't have complete control over everything that happens during the show, so don't worry your pretty little head about things that are out of your control. Besides, you trust Matt and everyone else, right?" he firmly nodded, confirming what you already knew. "And you promise me you're gonna tell me if you still don't feel ok when the show ends?"

"I promise", you knew he meant it by the look in his eyes, that were now a little bit droopy with tiredness. You guessed he kept turning in bed, restless, until he decided to come to your room.

"Do you wanna sleep or do you wanna keep talking? I'll let you pick the subject", you wanted to give him a choice, just in case he didn't feel ready to slip into his mind yet.

"I feel like I'm ready to sleep now. I actually feel kind of tired", he gave a small smile, but one you welcomed anyway.

"That's good. Let's sleep then"

You got yourselves comfortable, and in a few minutes, you could hear his steady breathing hitting your clavicle, and you let yourself slip under the cover of sleep with him.

At first, I wanted to write about reader taking refuge in Noah's room. But after thinking about it a little more, I decided to write it the other way around. There is just something about men being vulnerable that pulls on my heartstrings.

I hope everything goes well for everyone attending the festivals this weekend. I hope y'all have so much fun. Stay safe and enjoy!!!

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian imagine #noah sebastian #noah sebastian davis #noah sebastian fluff #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian one shot #noah sebastian headcanons #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #bad omens smut #bad omens imagine #bad omens #bad omens fluff #bad omens one shot #bad omens headcanons

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gale-force-storm · 3 months

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Ok, new headcanon I've been playing around with for a bit, and I like it so I figured I'd share. The gist is this:

Morena Dekarios: Bard

Gale's always felt like he has some theatre kid energy to me. He's dramatic, grandiose, expressive, he quotes Shakespeare, he writes poetry, he loves telling stories, he comes up with a little rhyme on the spot if you cheat at that chess puzzle, he's just got That Vibe. Now, he could have come by this energy naturally. Some people are just Like That. However, please join me in imagining little Gale, listening with rapt attention as his mother performs a ballad, or tells a story with such skill that the entire room is enthralled. Imagine her trying to keep baby Gale entertained with some dancing lights, only for him to swiftly pick up the spell himself. Maybe one of the reasons he likens magic to art is because, well, that's what it was to him, when he was young.

Maybe Morena was an up-and-coming bard, travelling around the Sword Coast. Maybe she started a fling, as bards often do, with some handsome adventurer, and they traveled together for a bit. Maybe they found out she'd accidentally become pregnant, and after some discussion her partner agreed to return to Waterdeep with her, because, Morena insisted, the road was no place to raise a child, and she'd rather have her family nearby for support. So they went and found a house to settle in, and things were ok for a time. A bit bumpy, but they made it work, her partner taking odd jobs around the city and her taking gigs in taverns and inns and feast halls for as long as she was able. Even the first year or two of Gale's life things went relatively smoothly. But then his magic tendencies started really manifesting, and while Morena was initially excited, the chaos that quickly followed threw her relationship even further onto the rocks. They kept trying for a few years, but eventually, when Gale was 4 or 5, the partner decided enough was enough. He never wanted a kid to begin with, and all this? It was too much. He was out, and Morena and Gale never heard from him again.

Morena still did her best after that, of course. She was still proud of her brilliant son, despite the chaos and what anyone else might say, his father included. He was with her constantly, including often sitting by and watching her performances when no one else was able or willing to watch him. Luckily he always loved watching her play and sing and tell stories, so he caused relatively little trouble when he came along. She even started teaching him to cook, and to play a few instruments, which he picked up as quickly as everything else, though the piano seemed to be his favorite. She considered getting him into bard college in the future, following in her footsteps, but then Elminster came along. And while she'd been doing her best to help Gale with his magic, it was a bit of a relief to have someone so skilled, so practiced and renowned, be willing to help. A relief too, to have someone who saw Gale like she did (or so she thought): as a gift. Someone special, rather than a nuisance or possible danger. She adored Gale, doted on him, taught him as much as she could, but she could admit that she was a bit out of her depth with him.

By the time she started questioning the wisdom of having him go to Blackstaff at such a young age, started questioning the messages he might be getting, Gale was old enough and had inherited enough of her willfulness that there was no stopping him from diving headfirst into whatever he wanted to do, including more formal wizard training. She was still proud, of course, but she did worry about him. She was glad that he at least had Tara around to keep an eye on him, and that Tara was willing to report back to her. As long as Gale was happy, Morena resolved, that's what mattered. Her little storm. Her darling son with the mind of a wizard and the heart of a poet. A heart like her own.

#headcanons #morena dekarios #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #my writing #this is based entirely on vibes and the fact that i think it's fun but i do like it a lot as a concept #he just has such a performer's manner and an artist's soul i have to imagine those things were nurtured when he was young #this also adds another layer to gale's love of illusion magic #magic as a source of beauty and entertainment and joy and escape - just like his mother used it

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harmonictechnicality · 2 years

Text

Eddie’s Memory Log Day 1:

part 2 here | part 3 here | part 4 here | part 5 here | part 6 here

(ao3 link here)

The only reason Steve volunteers to keep a journal to track Eddie Munson’s skim-milk memories, is because of the twerps.

They have school, they can’t commute to the government-protected hospital that’s all the way in the city. That, and they gave Steve this well-rehearsed, tearjerker performance about how grateful they would be.

About how grateful Eddie would be.

Pfft like shit on a stick, he’ll be grateful. The dude doesn’t even remember how old he is, how the hell is supposed to be grateful for Steve Harrington jotting down notes in binder?

But those kids have been through Spielberg-level disaster shit. Steve has too, but they’re just kids.

So he’ll do it. He’ll do it for them and only them.

Eddie knows his name today.

He’s pissy - he’s always pissy cause Eddie is battered up beyond belief. But still, he’s extra pissy today because Dustin is his favorite visitor and he hasn’t stopped by in almost a week.

Eddie knows Dustin’s name today too.

And guess who’s his least favorite visitor?

“Harrington.” Eddie grumbles, mouth full of lime jello. “Who paid you to be here today?”

Remembers Steve’s name… last name.

“No one.” Steve makes himself comfy in the vinyl armchair. “Call me crazy, but I’m not too big on taking lunch money from sophomores.”

Speaking of which…

“Do you know you know how old you are?”

Eddie crumples the plastic jello container. “You’re a patronizing sack of shit.”

Steve rolls his eyes, starts to write down:

Eddie doesn’t know his age.

“Twenty.”

Eddie does know his age (20).

“Swell.” Steve fakes his amusement. The kids are much better at cheerleading Eddie along in this process. But Steve’s poker face is nonexistent. Sarcasm and assholery occupy every seat in his brain these days.

They go through a few more questions before Eddie begins to get tired. He’s tired a lot, even though the coma knocked him out for almost four months.

Guess holding hands with Death really takes it out of a person.

Eddie doesn’t know his birthday.

But Eddie does remember it’s in the winter (has a memory of seeing leafless trees from an early childhood birthday party).

Eddie remembers his uncle’s name.

Eddie doesn’t remember which street he lives on.

Eddie has a headache (that’s not a memory thing - he’s just told Steve a thousand times now).

“I’ll let you rest.” Steve folds the binder shut, sort of desperate to do anything to get Eddie to stop whining. Seriously, he thought this guy was funnier pre-bat attack.

Eddie doesn’t remember he has a sense of humor.

“You don’t have to stay, you know.” Eddie settles into his pillows.

Steve shrugs, puts his hands behind his head. “I took the bus from Hawkins today. The next one doesn’t leave for another few hours.”

“Still… it’s a city, right? You can go explore or whatever. Be a tourist.”

Yeah Eddie’s persuasive skills aren’t completely back either, it’s all very half-assed.

“Been here before.” Steve lounges deeper into the squeaky chair material. “I’m good.”

“Probably haven’t seen everything is all I’m saying -”

“Do you want me to leave that bad?”

Steve doesn’t shout, but his tone takes up space. Makes the room feel crowded with accusations and cutthroat honesty.

Eddie stares back hard. Sometimes, he doesn’t look like Eddie Munson - he looks like this war victim with knotted-up hair and sulky brown eyes.

Like a John Doe cadaver - tagging his foot with the possibility of Eddie Munson.

Anyways, that’s how he looks right now as he stares at Steve. Barely Eddie.

“Just. I don’t know you.” That’s a shitty ass comeback for someone with a memory-tank that’s perpetually blinking with the low-engine light on.

Eddie continues with his weak argument. “Were we close enough back home that you’d stay here while I sleep?”

Eddie doesn’t remember Steve ignoring him in high school for four years.

Steve finds no reason to lie. “No. We weren’t close at all.”

“Right.” Eddie nods once. “So why do this? What are you getting out of this?”

This is a complicated situation to explain to anyone, let alone to someone with fuzzy comprehension abilities. But Steve gives it a whirl:

“Look, we have mutual friends that are… younger. Dustin’s age. And whether I like it or not, they’re like siblings to me now - I’d do anything for them. But they’re in school, they can’t be here every day like I can.”

“Why can you be here?” Eddie asks.

“I lost my job.”

Eddie attempts sympathy. “Sorry.”

Eh, Steve gives him a B-minus.

“Didn’t like it anyways.” Steve reassure him plainly. “The point, I’m doing this for them. For you too, but they’re the anchors in this.”

Eddie thinks for a moment - readjusts to laying on his side, facing Steve. “Won’t you need a new job eventually?”

“Nah. Trust Fund Baby.” Steve points both thumbs at his chest.

“Yeesh.” Eddie rolls to the other side, away from Steve. Disgusted by his comment, yet still chuckling very quietly.

Okay… Eddie does remember he has a sense of humor (just a teensy bit).

His breathing becomes long and hard - sleep heavy breathing. It doesn’t take long, sleep seems more natural to Eddie right now than being awake.

Steve watches him for a moment. There’s always the ghostly-distant fear that Eddie might stop breathing. He’s done it before - four months ago and once more while he was still at the hospital in Hawkins.

Max is still asleep. Steve hates thinking about that detail because it’s cruel. This twisted game that the universe is playing is truly unjust.

Like an Almighty Asshole rolled Eddie’s stupid dice and decided, ‘I’ll let one of your friends wake up, but he won’t remember that he battled along side you in the trenches of darkness. Take it or leave it, douchebag.’

Steve will take it.

Eddie is still sleeping when Steve decides to head out - the bus will be arriving soon and he’s gotta get a window seat. Needs control over the window cause he gets carsick way too fucking easily these days.

“Heading out?” Eddie mumbles, eyes not even open.

“Yeah - sorry.” Steve doesn’t know why he whispered that. “Didn’t think I should wake you.”

“I gotcha. I’m assuming you’ll be back tomorrow?”

Huh… Steve thinks there might be a hint of implication that Eddie wants him to come back tomorrow. Interesting.

“Your memory isn’t as shitty as you think it is.” He’s overly smug when he says it.

Eddie gives him a closed-lip smile. Only Dustin and Wayne receive those.

“Want me to pick up some food on my way in?” Steve decides to give generosity a try, since Eddie is tolerable enough to give him a smile. “Get you off of this lousy hospital meal-plan temporarily?”

The smile is gone. “Nah, you don’t have to do that.”

Right.

Eddie definitely remembers how to be Stubborn with a capital ‘S’

But Steve is a Trust Fund Baby, so he’s unfazed with difficult behaviors. He can match difficulties all damn day if he wanted to.

Which he does.

“Suit yourself, Munson.” Steve acts so uncaring. Very uppity and douchey. “I’m thinking Chinese takeout for me personally.”

“Cool.”

“Cool. See you tomorrow then.”

There’s a pause, so Steve takes that as his sign to turn the handle, get the hell out of here.

“Steve?” Eddie calls weakly just before he shuts the door behind him.

He cracks it open, peeks his face back in. “Yeah?”

Eddie sighs. “Kung Pao Chicken.”

“Excellent choice.”

Eddie gives him another closed-lip smile.

Steve grins wildly, with all of his teeth. “In fact, I think I’ll do the same.”

And as Steve claims his middle seat on the bus, he pulls the binder back out of his backpack to add one more note for the day:

Eddie remembers that he likes Kung Pao Chicken.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #post s4 au #trying to decide if I should make this a thing or not #I’m not even sure if this is any good so please ignore if it is incoherent #my mind is being cruel today so if it’s bad pretend it never happened 🙂

2K notes · View notes

koqabear · 1 year

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Hiii congrats on 2k sol obsessed with everything you write!!!!💓 Could I request revisiting emo boy? Like what their relationship is like after and dates and how sex is like? Maybe beomgyu’s band really blows up and he’s quite busy, how does oc respond to this? And with smut? Tysm!!💝

playlist // beomgyu's encore outfit hehe // cont. of hey emo boy!

“The day of your one-year anniversary with Beomgyu was expected to be spent away from each other— but not if either of you can help it, far too in love to let anything get in the way of you two.”

bassist!beomgyu x fem!reader // wc: 6.6K (everyone stfu rn) // genre: band au, opposites attract trope, established relationship, smut, tooth rotting fluff tbh, MDNI.

warnings: they are in love and it’s fucking GROSS!! barely edited, the two have hella piercings hehe (bg: snake bites, tongue, eyebrow // mc: smiley & nipple piercings) pet names (sweet thing, pretty, etc.) use of the L word bc they are literally obsessed w/ each other.

smut warnings: hard dom! gyu, sub!mc, needy sex sorry 😖, marking, manhandling, dry humping, biting, breast play, possessiveness, unprotected sex, bg picks the mc up, scratching, dacryphilia, dumbification, a lot of kissing lol, degrading, slight praise, fingering, creampie, cum eating…? lmk if i should add anything !

Notes: happy (late) birthday to the fic that’s probably my peak… this story single handedly changed the course of my blog me thinks. thank you to everyone who was just as affected by emo gyu as i was.

Being in a committed relationship with Choi Beomgyu, bassist of Tomorrow x Together and an absolute unattainable heartthrob, was not very easy.

It was at first; with their blossoming career, it was more about the music than their looks. Fans were loyal simply because they liked their sound, their message, the way their concerts were filled with such energy and passion it left their hearts beating with adrenaline after— but of course, it’s hard to not notice the absolute eye candy on stage; low-lidded gazes, dark stage lights that barely highlighted their stunning features, and clothing that was just as alluring and flattering as the rest of them; inevitably, their popularity sky-rocketed, for better and for worse.

Beomgyu was left with more money than he knew what to do with. Most of the time, it was used to spoil you, his pretty girlfriend he brought with him everywhere because he was just too obsessed with you— it made his band members wonder if he simply had attachment issues by how much his world revolved around you. But no, you were just as bad as him; present during rehearsals, always in the studio to cheer them on or give them a second opinion on a new song; it wasn’t long before you ended up befriending the rest of them as well, a tight bond forming simply because of all the things you went through together.

As unfortunate as it was, they weren’t the only ones forced to bear with negative and hateful encounters from the public; while they had their experiences of being mistreated early in their career, you had to deal with immature or creepy fans that had taken a liking to harass you— inboxes on all social media platforms flooded constantly, your number even leaked once as you were forced to buy a new phone all together from how badly you were being spammed— Beomgyu had been quick to lash out and tell them to leave you alone if they didn’t want a lawsuit on their hands.

Overtime, they adjusted to their popularity. Schedules slowly became filled to the brim, their dream now a reality as they spent months on tour— and while you were more than happy and proud of them and their flourishing career, it’d be a lie to say it was all one happy and perfect life.

You hadn’t seen Beomgyu in ages— decades, centuries, eons— in other words, two weeks.

The band had more interviews and performances than you could keep up with; if they weren’t on some random talk show, they were at a photoshoot, getting interviewed for the next issue of a magazine you’d undoubtedly have on your coffee table the day it came out. Promotions, nights at the studio, it all added up— and before you knew it, your one year anniversary began to creep up, and all hopes to celebrate it properly dwindled down in your heart— but, having him here with you today was enough.

You didn’t blame Beomgyu; you weren’t angry or upset, because it was simply something neither of you could control. And though it did suck knowing you wouldn’t be able to spend such a meaningful day together, it felt a little better to know that you weren’t the only one hung up on it.

On the contrary— you think Beomgyu might be handling this worse than you.

“Baby, baby please,” he cries, refusing to let go of you and cuddling closer to you instead, a mess of tangled limbs and blankets as he cups your face fondly, “pleaaase I know you said I shouldn’t feel bad but please come on tour with us this week, I think I’ll seriously die if you’re not here this time.”

“Gyu, baby, I really shouldn’t—” you say quietly, only to get cut off by his excessive whining and teary eyes. His bottom lip is jutted out in a ridiculous pout, squeezing your cheeks and holding back a smile at the way your lips puff out as a result; you attempt to push him off you, only for him to retaliate by rolling entirely on top of you, a loud squeal escaping you at the feeling of his weight pressing you into the mattress, his stupid face hovering over yours as he continues to plead you quietly.

“Pleaaseee?” he whines, pressing his flat palms against your cheeks and getting your lips to puff out again; he ignores your half-hearted protests for him to get the fuck off, choosing to punctuate his every word with a kiss instead, his piercings a sharp contrast to his plump lips that crash against you with every word.

“Please?” kiss. “Won’t you,” kiss. “come with us?” another kiss.

“Please. Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease—”

He’s practically suffocating you at this point, refusing to pull away and mumbling the words against your lips, laughs breaking between the two of you as you yell at him to get off, that you can barely breathe with him on top of you; you’re pushing at his shoulders weakly as he continues to tease you, your unabashed laugh contagious as he quickly finds himself smiling as well— he only pulls away once he hears you yell a loud fuck, okay! Hovering over you with bright eyes and a wide grin.

His arms snake around your waist before he’s rolling over, successfully switching so that you’re the one on top of him— he ignores the loud and exaggerated sigh of relief you let out.

“It won’t make much of a difference though,” you say quietly, hiding in the crook of his neck as you confess your doubts, “You’ll be too busy and exhausted the whole day, I really don’t want me to be added to your list of concerns.”

You went on tour with him, once— but you learned it was better off to not be anywhere backstage with him during those times, the boy too concerned and constantly doting on you to remain focused; any mistakes he made hitting much harder, a subconscious pressure to be perfect and give his all only trifolded by your presence.

“What? No,” he says immediately, sitting back on his elbows and causing you to look up at him in response; his brows are furrowed and he seems a bit baffled by your comment, shaking his head adamantly to emphasize his point, “I like having you there. I know you like being there, I want you there— I wouldn’t be asking you to come with me if I thought you were a burden.”

He managed to pull out the exact words you were trying to skirt around— your face heats up at his reassurance, much too intimidated by the intensity of his gaze as you bury your face into his chest instead; his chest bounces from the laugh he lets out, flopping onto his back once more and hugging you close, bodies pressed flush against each other and one of his legs thrown around your waist in a childish attempt to pull you even closer.

“Plus, don’t you wanna visit Europe with me?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice as he feels you nod shyly; he knows just how much you enjoy the travel aspect to his career, constantly asking for pictures or to facetime while he’s gone, “I wanna show you all my favorite spots this time, and not through some glitchy facetime— I wanna spend time with you, sweet thing.”

“Ugh, shut up,” you groan, hitting his chest weakly as he simply laughs at you softly, “you’re so corny.”

“You love it,” he coos, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your back, biting back a smile at the way he can feel your breath even out— you remain silent. Partly because you’re falling asleep from his touch, and partly because he’s right.

⤬⤬⤬

Europe is breathtaking— you’ve never been so grateful for Beomgyu’s stubborn, persistent mind.

The tour has gone as perfect as always, spending a few days at their shows before you simply resigned to stay at the hotel instead; after seeing that Beomgyu was so distracted trying to look for you during a show that he missed his cue (and played the notes wrong to another song) you found it better to wait for him and see him after instead— ready to help him wind down and relax after another energetic, adrenaline-inducing show.

Most nights consisted of you practically carrying him to the bathtub; cooing soft reassurance as he whined about how tired and sore he felt, shampooing his hair, massaging his scalp and tense shoulders— most of the time, he’d fall asleep then and there, and it’d be another hassle to wake him up and get him out. You’d lure him out of the tub and wait for him to change into your matching pajamas— hello kitty ones, his idea, not yours— and greet him in the bed with a warm embrace and lips that peppered kisses all over his face.

It was during these moments you found humor in the contrast of his stage persona to his true self; from his usual attire, chokers and ripped clothes, wardrobe consisting of black and multiple piercings that decorated his ears and face, your thumb brushing over his newest eyebrow piercing fondly— versus the man that slept soundly in your arms now, long hair tied back and cute pink barrettes clipping back his bangs, donned in hot pink fuzzy pajamas— and you’re sure that if his band members saw him like this, they’d never stop teasing him.

You didn’t have to wait long to confirm that thought; Beomgyu didn’t bother changing as he met up with the others in Yeonjun’s room for breakfast the next morning, tugging you along and remaining unfazed at the way his band members burst out laughing the moment he entered the room— you felt a bit bad at the way you found yourself laughing as well, even more so because you’re the only reason he’s found himself dressed like this. (But again, he was the one who bought these clothes in the first place.)

“Happy anniversary, you two,” Yeonjun muses, smiling at the way you’re the only one who seems to process that, chirping out a cheery thank you! as you proceed to drag Beomgyu to the couch, “I feel bad that we have a concert today, ___. As vomit-inducing as it is seeing you two, you do deserve to spend the day together.”

“It’s okay,” you immediately say, brushing his teasing comment off and holding back a smile at the way Beomgyu is still struggling to gain consciousness, more tired than you thought as he simply stares at his waffles for a moment before finally digging in, “at least he’s spending the day doing something he loves.”

“Gross,” Hueningkai says, scrunching his nose playfully before laughing at the glare you send him, “you two are so mushy, it’s painful.”

The rest of the day leading up to the concert is spent peacefully; once Beomgyu has gained enough coherence to fight back against the member’s jabs, he’s pulling you away to show you new sights and stores he discovered from his previous visits, spoiling you beyond belief and buying anything you look at for a second too long; you end up with more bags than you know what to do with, and Beomgyu refuses to let you carry a single one as he proceeds to take you one of his go-to restaurants, as he told you; saying he’s been wanting to bring you here since the moment he found it, smiling brightly when he sees you enjoying the food as much as he did.

To say he’s reluctant to leave you to go to the concert venue is an understatement; you think he might start crying at any given moment as he stares at you with shining eyes, unable to let go of your hand as he stands by the door of the hotel room— not quite ready to leave yet, but knowing that he must eventually as he chooses to bring you in for another slow, loving kiss instead.

“Are you sure you’re not coming tonight?” he asks you, trying to hide the sadness in his voice and failing miserably.

“And make you fuck up your setlist? I don’t think so,” you try to joke, only to panic slightly at the way his eyes gloss over; your hand immediately jumps up to cup his face, laughing softly at his expression as he simply pouts at you ridiculously.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” you grin, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before you lean over to his ear, voice dropping to nothing but a whisper as you let your lips brush against his ear, “I’ll have a nice surprise for you tonight, so you better give your best show out there, okay?”

The low lilt of your voice is enough to have him perking up immediately; mouth parted slightly as he stares at you, unsure of what else to do but nod pathetically, knowing he won’t be able to control himself if he thinks about what you might have in store for too long.

With one last chaste kiss, he’s leaving— and only because Soobin was pounding at the door, telling him they’d be late if he didn’t go out this instant— you think he might start crying as he gives you one last pouty glance, waving to you sadly before he slips out the door.

You’re left alone, the room suddenly much lonelier and quieter than it was a few seconds ago— and you laugh, checking the time and running to your suitcase to get your makeup and outfit for tonight.

A revealing shirt, a mini-skirt that’s a bit alarmingly short— you’re pulling out a sparkling, pink outfit like it’s nothing, throwing it all on and doing your makeup as you check the time absentmindedly; your phone lights up while you’re in the middle of doing so, and a notification reads that the staff are waiting for you outside to take you to the venue once you’re ready.

Beomgyu loves performing knowing you’re in the audience more than anything; it’s something he’s made blatant to you, knowing that despite his mistakes, despite his small distractions, his energy always goes out the roof the moment he spots you there. So you knew how distraught Beomgyu would be to hear that you’re not going to the show tonight despite being able to, but the thought of surprising him is much more enticing than you’d like to admit.

With one last check of your appearance in the mirror, you grab a jacket before you go; Beomgyu’s favorite oversized zip-up, the clothing item a stark contrast to the rest of your feminine and bright attire— and you smile, adjusting the purse on your shoulder before you’re off to the hotel lobby, where the staff are waiting and ready to escort you safely.

The venue is almost full by the time you get there; you’re escorted straight to your barricade seats front and center, smiling shyly and waving at fans that seem to recognize you; your face feels hot and you walk faster at the way they get excited at the sight of you, not used to the fame that comes with being Beomgyu’s girlfriend— hell, you really don’t know how Beomgyu does it.

You’re more than relieved once the concert begins, any attention that still lingered on you immediately getting stolen by the boys that appeared on stage; you winced slightly at the loud screams all around you, unable to help the way you eventually joined in— morphing into another fan in the crowd, the venue much too dark for any of the boys to recognize you just yet.

They looked stunning in their concert outfits; the professional, matching and dark outfits tailored perfectly to each member, intricate with chains and rosaries and pretty layers. Your eyes widen as you watch Beomgyu walk to his position, taking note of his hair that has now been dyed back to black— you hadn’t realized how long it’d gotten until now, the layers framing his face and falling into his eyes as he goes to push back his bangs with a delicate hand.

There are no introductions tonight— the music begins immediately, loud and abrasive and making the crowd jump along excitedly, screaming the lyrics and reaching out to try and get one of the members to pay attention to them— on the contrary, you try to remain hidden, looking away and bowing your head every time Beomgyu’s gaze sweeps around your area.

God, you wish Beomgyu didn’t turn into such a ditz whenever he spotted you in the audience— because then you’d be able to enjoy more of their concerts, addicted to the borderline euphoric feeling you get from attending them, only for it to be multiplied as your eyes catch onto your boyfriend performing, your heart pounding against your chest at the sound of his voice ringing out into the venue— a surge of pride and love fills you as a grin spreads on your face, and it isn’t until you notice a member walking around that you’re able to look away from him.

Looking up, you make eye contact with Hueningkai.

His mischievous smile and raised brows are immediately returned with a violent shake of your head; telling him to not say anything to Beomgyu, rubbing your hands together pleadingly the moment he glances back at the said man— then he turns to you, sending you a playful wink before he’s off to another section, not without sending you one last teasing grin and a wave; you’re glancing at Beomgyu in a panic, unsure if he’s spotted you, only to be relieved at the sight of him too concentrated on playing to even look up at the crowd.

It isn’t until the encore that they’ve all begun to move around, (save for Taehyun and Soobin, bound to their instruments as they’re resigned to simply wave at the crowd when they can) changed into more comfortable outfits during a small intermission— Beomgyu is decked in baggy jeans and an equally baggy shirt, long hair messy and makeup smudged as he walks along the stage, smiling and waving at fans that reach out for him— he plays his bass so effortlessly as he does, truly mesmerizing as he stops a few times to interact with fans; the sight has your heart fluttering hopelessly.

But the closer he gets, the more you’re buzzing with nervous energy. Gripping onto the barricade tightly, having stood up long ago with the rest of the fans that are eager to get their attention. Beomgyu’s eyes scan through the crowd thoroughly, smiling cutely and returning hearts until he spots you.

He freezes entirely.

He’s no longer playing bass— he’s just standing there, in complete shock as he stares at you. You can only muster to give him a sheepish wave, an uncontrollable grin on your face as you laugh at his dumbfounded expression, trying to yell at him to go back to playing. But he doesn’t, and you’re jumping slightly at the way he takes off his bass and jumps off the stage, security frantically following behind as he rushes over to you.

His hands are on your face and he’s pulling you in for a kiss quicker than you can process; you hear the screams of the crowd around you, but Beomgyu’s got you in his hold so tightly that you’re unable to pull away, left to give in and melt against him as he kisses you for a little longer. Your face feels as though it’s on fire by the time he’s pulled away, his own alight entirely with joy as he grins at you, your head still in his hands as he leans against the barricade excitedly— you think he might just jump over it any moment now.

“You’re here?” he says exasperatedly, eyes scanning you frantically as though he were imagining you, “why didn’t you tell me, you should’ve— I would’ve—”

“Beomgyu,” you cut him off, placing your hands over his and laughing at the way he can only stutter stupidly, brushing his hair behind his ear fondly— watching the way his eyes crinkle cutely as he smiles, your own sweeping over the array of piercings that decorate him, hello kitty earrings glinting under the light— and pry his hands off your face, ignoring the pout he sends you as you scold him instead. “Get back on stage!”

Your words seem to snap him out of his reverie; his head is whipping back to look at the stage, at the way his friends can only laugh at him teasingly and yell at him to get back here— the way Yeonjun yells directly into the mic is slightly embarrassing, shrinking at the way all eyes are on you as the man’s words ring out the venue— Beomgyu, get the fuck back here!

He’s only able to leave with one last chaste kiss— the crowd is screaming at the sight, and you’re resisting the urge to cover your face in weak hopes that it could take all this attention off you— but you’ll bear it, especially with the way Beomgyu mouths a cute I love you! before he’s jumping back on stage.

The poor boy is unable to take his eyes off you for the rest of the night— but on the bright side, there are no missed cues or wrong notes played. He’s just entranced with you for the rest of the encore, his energy seemingly replenished with the way he jams out to the music; mouthing the lyrics even when it’s not his part, maintaining eye-contact with you during songs he knows you’re particularly fond of— and suddenly, the idea of spending his anniversary at a concert isn’t as depressing as it was earlier tonight— because now, he had you by his side.

⤬⤬⤬

“Beomgyu— Beomgyu please, not here…” you whine, unable to do much but bite your lip and swallow back whines that threaten to escape you, left to Beomgyu’s mercy as he immediately led you to his dressing room after the show— the said man is much too focused on kissing and marking your neck to listen, soft hair brushing against your face as he pulls you flush against him; back pressed against the wall, arched prettily from the way his hands snake around your waist and press your lower half against his— you’re holding back a groan at the way he’s already hopelessly hard against you.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d be coming? Hmmm? Just wanted to be a tease? Was this your little surprise?” he asks, biting at your skin and huffing out a laugh at the whine that escapes you; your hands are gripping onto his shirt tightly, fisting it in your hands and wrinkling the material as he lets his teeth sink slightly near your collarbones, “god, you look so good tonight, you’d really expect me to be able to hold myself back?”

His hands are wandering down your waist; over the swell of your ass, fiddling with the hem of your mini-skirt before he’s venturing under it— feeling the way you shiver against him the moment his hands squeeze at the soft flesh, fingers decorated with rings cold against your skin as he comes back up to kiss you. It’s rough and desperate, lip rings scratching as he kisses you with such hunger it leaves you breathless; he grinds his cock desperately against you, eliciting a small gasp from you and allowing him to slip his tongue inside— the piercing that decorates it scrapes along your mouth, unable to help the way your knees weaken at the feeling of him— his touch is everywhere, leaving you dizzy and lightheaded as you can only melt against him, allowing him to press you flush against the wall with his own body; your miniskirt is riding up along your hips as he situates himself between your legs, panties already a mess as he begins to rut his cock into you.

“Are you sure you want to wait now, pretty?” he asks, looking down at you with low-lidded and fucked out eyes— he punctuates his words with a particularly harsh thrust, laughing at the way you yelp and tighten your hold on him, “I could stop everything right now, send you back to the hotel like this and make you wait, just like you said— is that what you want?”

Oh, he’s cruel— even more so because you’re left shaking your head no deliriously, your mind fogged with such need that your eyes are glossing over at the very thought of not having Beomgyu inside you right now; your voice is pathetic as you plead Beomgyu to finish what he started, throwing a hand over his shoulder and entangling your fingers into his hair as you pull him back into you— he’s more than eager to return the kiss, tilting his head and pressing himself more against you as a hand reaches down to your thigh; grabbing the back of your knee, guiding you to hook it around his waist as he begins to rut into you mindlessly.

“So cute, my pretty girl,” he mumbles against your lips, eyes trailing down your low-cut top to spot his favorite zip-up, a smile tugging at his lips as he merely sends you a cute smile, “did you miss me that much? Already so needy from a little bit of kissing— god, I love you so much…”

You think he’s mostly talking to himself at this point— spewing nothing but filth as his hands shove your shirt over your chest, grinning as he remains impatient enough to not take off a single item of clothing, choosing to push tug your bra down harshly before he’s swooping down to mark your breasts with a cruel smile.

“Looked so fucking hot out there, just made me wanna take you backstage and fuck you there,” he confesses, listening to the choked whine you let out, his pierced tongue playing with your hardened nipples, leaving them swollen and sensitive. He’s looking up at you with doe eyes that contrast greatly with the way he sticks his tongue out for you, letting you watch the way he circles and toys with the cute jewelry he bought for you earlier today, pulling away with a coy smile and leaving them soaked with his spit— he blows softly on them, watching with tentative eyes as you keen at the feeling.

“God, you know I’ve been wanting to do this every time I see you at one of our shows? To make sure that everyone that looks at you knows just who,” he rolls his hips into you, nice and slow and letting you feel the length of his cock press against you as you flutter your eyes shut from pleasure, “you’re here for?”

“Fuck, gyu,” you pant out, snaking your hands under his shirt and up his back, grabbing at his shoulders and pulling him into you— as if there’s still space between the two of you, as if you’d die if you weren’t touching him at all times, “‘m only yours, only want you…”

He’s sneaking a hand down to move your panties to the side, the two of you much too desperate to shed off any layers— and as you listen to the clinking sounds of his belt, undoing his jeans and pulling out his hardened cock, you busy yourself by sucking and biting at his neck, listening to his stuttered breaths as you suck and tease at the joint of his neck, his most sensitive spot as you bite at it playfully— you’re only pulling away at the feeling of Beomgyu grabbing at you hair and tugging you away, letting out a baffled laugh at the satisfied look you give him in return.

“Want everyone to know you’re mine,” you coo out softly, grinding your pussy slowly against Beomgyu’s tip that teases your entrance, your mouth falling open at the feeling of him mirroring the action, running along your folds and swiping at your clit, “all mine, my pretty boy…”

He laughs fondly against your lips at that— bringing you in for a slow kiss, feeling the way your mind goes blank the moment his tip slowing enters you; he’s swallowing a soft moan from you as he bottoms out slowly, keeping himself deep inside and grinding his hips slowly against yours— and he stays there, a tease like always as he watches your brows furrow and your lips pout, telling him softly to move, to do something.

“Mmmh, all yours,” he mumbles softly, pulling out slowly to let you feel the way every vein runs against your walls, clenching and fluttering against his length as he hisses at the feeling, “I’m yours, belong only to you, fuck…”

He’s not able to keep this agonizingly slow pace up for long— as much as he wants to tease you, to have you crying and pleading for him to fuck you stupid, he isn’t fairing that well himself— so it isn’t long before he’s beginning to snap his hips into you, cock curving and aiming for that spot that has your knees buckling, pretty nails digging into Beomgyu’s shoulders and biting at the skin in order to try to stabilize yourself.

“Such a perfect cunt— fuck, ah, just wanna fill you up, wanna see it dripping down those pretty thighs— stupid fucking skirt can’t hide anything, ugh—” his voice is deep and breathy as he continues to talk into your ear, his hands sliding down to the swell of your ass before he’s holding it there— lifting you up, forcing you to hook your legs around his waist as you’re left to his mercy; his chest is pressed flush against yours as he fucks you, and you can only bury your face into his neck to try and muffle your sounds, the rough way you bounce from his thrusts causing your nails to slip and scratch down his back— he hisses at the feeling, only to be spurred by the stinging sensation it leaves behind.

“So loud, shit,” he laughs meanly, grinning at the way you only bury your face into him more to try and muffle your sounds, “want everyone to hear you? All the staff, the members— I’m sure they’d like to see what a pretty doll you are for me.”

You shake your head at that— but your body gives you away as your cunt clenches around him pathetically, the wet sounds of skin against skin filling the room and undoubtedly filtering outside— but you remain persistent to keep your moans to yourself, choking back on sounds of pleasure as Beomgyu only begins to fuck you rougher; your silence is a challenge, one he’ll gladly take as he begins to roll his hips into you just the way you like it.

“Come on pretty, I wanna hear you,” he purrs into your ear, a hand snaking around to rub at your clit while the other remains firm on your ass, “don’t you feel good? I can make you feel even better— so, so so good, just let me hear your cute little sounds.”

You’re playing hard to get. And Beomgyu takes absolute pleasure in it, watching the way you shake and dig your nails into him helplessly, your body being wound up from how good he fucks you; your thighs are sticky and shining from your arousal, poorly concealed pleasure only fueling Beomgyu’s ego further as he reaches up to tug your head out from it’s hiding spot.

He thinks he might just cum on the spot; your makeup is ruined, tears of mascara running down your cheeks as you merely let out soft hiccups of moans, your lips parted and brain completely empty as you stare at him— he smiles at you in return, capturing your lips in another kiss as his hand begins to trail down; toying with your breasts, nimble fingers pinching and rolling your nipples as you jolt and whine into his mouth at the sensation.

“Gyu— gonna— need to, ah…!” the choked whimpers you let out aren’t enough for Beomgyu, and he only slows down at your request; fresh tears stream down your cheeks as you plead softly, breathy voice barely above a whisper as you whine quietly to keep going, don’t stop, please gyu, pleeaaase….

“Hmm? What’s that? I can’t hear you, baby,” he murmurs softly against your lips, slowing to nothing but a grind as he presses himself against you— pelvis grinding against your clit, the feeling making you tremble as you dig your nails into his shoulders once more. “Come on sweet thing, tell me what you need.”

You’re telling him— begging, pleading, breathy whimpers and soft cries escaping you as you roll your hips into him, biting your lip and sighing exasperatedly at the way he simply watches you with dark eyes, slowing down until he’s simply bottomed out inside you.

“What do you want?” he asks softly, breathy voice intertwined with a lilt so sweet you’d almost think he pities you— and by the way he’s looking at you, he just might, swollen lips caught between his teeth to try and suppress a smile. You’re still weak and quiet as you try to voice your wants, looking at him through wet lashes, a pout on your face as your hands run absentmindedly up and down his back.

“Wanna cum?” he coos, pretty hand reaching down to circle and pinch your clit teasingly, “Want me to fuck you? Fill you up? Hmmm?”

All you can do is nod along to his words stupidly— and obviously, it’s the very last thing your boyfriend wants, abandoning your clit and reaching up to grab your face roughly; fingers digging into your cheeks, forced to look at him as he merely glares at you and speaks through gritted teeth.

“Tell me,” he says, voice sharp and dangerous as he narrows his eyes, “use your words— or, don’t tell me I’ve fucked you dumb already.”

He’s unhooking one of your legs from his waist at that; you’re stumbling slightly, leg too weak to let you stand as you merely cry at him to wait, bringing him closer to you in fear that he might pull out and leave you like this— his fingers still dig into your cheeks as you speak, drool building up at the corners of your pouty lips as you stutter out exactly what you want— what he wants to hear.

“Want you to fuck me, use me— wanna cum, please,” you cry out, eyes squeezing shut as he shakes your head teasingly, as though to say and what else? “Want you to cum inside, baby please, just wanna feel good—”

You’re rambling at this point. But Beomgyu enjoys it nonetheless, telling you to keep going as he begins to move again; slowly at first, allowing you to feel the drag of his thick cock against your walls as your words become stuttered through weak moans, the sight making your boyfriend laugh as he slowly begins to pick up his pace.

“Like it when I fuck you like this, yeah?” you’re nodding in confirmation to his words; staring at him with pleading eyes, whimpering a soft harder, faster, that the man is immediately obliging as he coos at the way you yelp at the sensation. “Want it harder? Hmmm? Want me to fuck you ‘till you can’t even walk—? Have to carry you out of here, let everyone see the way your sweet cunt is filled up by me?”

All you can do is nod to his words at this point; whimpering a weak yes, yesyesyes, want you to fill me up, use me, more more please—

Everything crashes down on you unexpectedly; your eyes are shutting tight and you think you might just black out as your orgasm hit you suddenly, cunt squeezing and fluttering around Beomgyu’s cock as he groans at the sensation— he lets you ride it out, cooing soft praise into your ear before he’s pulling you in for another kiss; you’re barely able to kiss him back, moaning into his mouth and letting him do whatever he wants with you.

It isn’t long before he’s cumming inside you as well; you’re so tight he can barely move, your cute whimpers and warm cunt guiding him through it as he fucks into you slowly, making sure none of his release slips out as he continues to fuck you, even after he’s become horribly sensitive. Then he’s still, lips still on yours and arms wrapped tightly around you as though he’s afraid to let you go.

“You okay?” he asks quietly after a moment, still lingering close to you, taking in your appearance with tentative eyes. You nod softly, still attempting to catch your breath as you chest heaves against his; he huffs out a soft laugh, caressing your cheek fondly before he’s going to fix your clothes— your mini-skirt remains up on your hips, his cock still bottomed out inside you as he coos about how good you were for him, caressing any skin he can get his hands on (which is a lot, considering your wardrobe) with a smile.

“Pretty girl, so perfect,” he coos, finally pulling out and tucking himself in before he’s going to fix your clothing; not without slipping his fingers inside your cunt one last time, watching with hungry eyes as you curl into him and cry that you’re sensitive— he’s only satisfied after his cum is left snug in your pussy, smiling darkly at the way he brings his fingers up to your mouth for you to clean— you do it without any hesitation, and Beomgyu swears he might just be getting hard again.

“Love you so much, thank you for coming to see me today,” he says instead, bringing you in for a warm hug and a loving kiss; you merely hum tiredly in response, hands slipping out from his shirt only to be thrown over his shoulders leisurely.

Your face feels hot the moment he’s trying to get the two of you to leave back for the hotel— because your legs are absolutely not cooperating with you.

“Holy shit, I was joking about that whole fuck you till you can’t walk thing,” he laughs, only to get cut of by the way you hit him in response— he’s letting out an exaggerated whimper at that, rubbing his arm and telling you sorry, sorry baby, with a cute pout.

“Ugh, I don’t want anyone to see me like this, fuck,” you mourn, only for Beomgyu to pull you into his side firmly, sending you a smile that’s not as reassuring as you wish it was.

“I’m sure no one will notice,” he says simply, swinging the door open and immediately being met with Soobin passing by.

He slows down at the sight of you two, glancing at your appearances briefly before he keeps walking.

“Try to keep it down next time please,” he yells out, turning the corner and disappearing from your sight before you can retaliate. You feel slightly mortified by his words, but Beomgyu isn’t affected in the slightest as he leans over to murmur softly into your ear.

“Should we continue this at the hotel, pretty?”

You don’t answer his question. But he already knows the answer, sending you a giddy smile and intertwining his fingers with yours as he leads you to where the staff car is waiting for you two— and you hold back a smile of your own as you trail (limp, kinda) behind him. It’ll be a long night, but you couldn’t ask for a better way to spend your anniversary, no matter how unconventional it is.

#txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt ff #txt x reader #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #beomgyu smut #beomgyu ff #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu oneshot #beomgyu x reader #[2k event!]#[nsfw]#[revisiting stories]

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caribbean1989 · 4 months

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Stage Fright - a Baby Lasagna fanfiction

Who: Marko Purisic / Baby Lasagna Request: maybe smt where you work for esc and marko has a panic attack before going on the stage and your there for him calming him down and stuff. just angsty with lots of comfort. Requested by: anonymous. Word count: 2010 Warnings: contains descriptions of panic attack / anxiety / stage fright. Lots of angst, but also some comfort 😇

A/N: I usually write footballer imagines and fandom whump, so writing something like this is quite new to me. Hope you'll like it, let me know what you think of it 😇 If you want me to write more like this, you can always make a request through my Asks 😉

This story can also be found on my AO3 account, here. For more information on my Baby Lasagna fanfics, see this masterpost.

At your job working backstage at concerts and events, you were one of the people making sure everything went smoothly backstage, and that the performers had all they needed. This month you would be working at the Eurovision Song Contest.

Today was the biggest day of all: the final. You felt confident. Everything had been rehearsed endlessly, the semi-finals had already gone well, and you had built up a good relationship with most of the performers and their entourages.

It was a nice group of artists this year, but one still was your personal favourite: Baby Lasagna. At first you were drawn to the Croatian candidate because of the rather unusual name, but you quickly learned he went by Marko off-stage, and was somewhat different from the other participants. He was a flamboyant personality on-stage, which proved to be the complete opposite of how his personality was off-stage.

You didn’t need long to see Marko was actually rather shy, could be very insecure, and was humble and polite. There was a cheeky side to him as well once you got to know him better. You liked that about him, and, without actively trying to, you already formed a rather close friendship with him in only this short time of working together.

That was why you immediately knew something was wrong when you found Marko sitting alone on the day of the final, huddled away from everything and everyone. He sat amongst crates of sound equipment, on the floor, in a dark corner of the backstage maze, hugging his knees. His hands were clamped so tightly around his legs that his fingers had turned white, and he trembled like a leaf in the wind. Marko had chosen a spot far from the foot traffic from and to the stage, hidden even from his own entourage, and it was a small miracle that you stumbled upon him like you had.

"Marko?" You lowered yourself onto your haunches in front of him, but mindful to keep enough distance between yourselves so not to frighten him or make him feel more uncomfortable.

He looked disheveled, only vaguely aware of his surroundings, and surely not in control of his emotions. In this moment he was not the extroverted Baby Lasagna, he was introverted Marko. The eccentric costume he wore on stage was replaced by regular jeans and a black hoodie. The make-up wasn’t applied yet, which might be a good thing, because you saw the tears on his face. The haunted look in his eyes scared you, worrying you even more about his well-being.

Suddenly your mind went to a line from the song he was performing with here this week.

My anxiety attacks.

Whilst Rim Tim Tagi Dim had people dancing all over the world, you couldn’t help but notice its darker meaning, too. And it clicked into place for you now. That line about anxiety wasn’t just a line. It actually held truth for Marko, and the proof of that was right in front of your eyes with him having a serious panic attack.

"Marko?" You repeated softly. His gaze flickered to you, but he didn’t acknowledge your presence in any other way. "I need you to talk to me," you nudged carefully. Marko swallowed hard. He made every effort to get himself to speak, but couldn’t. The words he meant to say got involuntarily silenced on their way to his mouth, and, finally, he just sadly shook his head. Fresh tears fell as he rested his forehead on his knees, shrinking even more into himself.

Your heart broke for him. It was hard to believe you only met him a week and a half ago, with how much you already cared for him.

Marko shivered in his hoodie. His breaths became even more rapid and shallow, accompanied by the occasional wheeze or whimper. He was losing more and more control over himself with every heartbeat of his racing pulse. Where first maybe only his hands had shook, there now wasn’t a muscle in his body that wasn’t shaking. He raised his head and looked up at you again, this time really seeing you.

Marko’s lower lip trembled, and it took effort, but finally he got some words out. "Help me…" "I’m trying," you answered helplessly. You wanted nothing more than to help him, take him out of this panic attack, but you really had no idea where to begin. "Do you need me to bring someone from your team over?" "No!" Marko nearly jumped a foot into the air at the mere idea of that. "They don’t need to see me like this. I’m a mess, I…" "Calm down, calm down," you tried to ease. "We can do this. You and I, we can get you through this."

Having suffered from panic attacks yourself, you suddenly remembered what your sister used to do for you to get you to calm down. "Marko." You got his attention. "I want to try something to help you calm down. Are you okay with me touching you?" He still was in the height of his panic attack, with fear wild in his eyes, but he still nodded his head. He wasn’t sure what you had in mind, but he trusted you.

You scooted closer to him, fully sitting down on the floor by his side. Marko trembled heavier than ever and he was truly hyperventilating now. Tears sparkled in his eyes, but he gave in to you. He wanted for you to offer comfort and take him out of this anxiety.

"Close your eyes," you said softly. Marko hesitated for just a second, but slowly closed his eyes. He didn’t know you for that long, yet you felt secure and safe to him. "Whenever you’re no longer comfortable with anything I’m doing, you need to tell me," you insisted, "and I’ll stop immediately." Marko gave you a strained nod, but he surrendered to you.

You moved slowly, making sure not to make any unexpected movements which would cause Marko any more fright. You placed one of your hands flat on his chest. Only now you realised how heavy this panic attack actually was for him. His chest heaved and trembled under your hand, and now that you were closer to him, you heard the whimpers that were hidden in the wheezes of his breathing. With your other hand you picked up his wrist, gently pressing two fingers against the pulse point. As you had expected, his heart was racing.

"I need you to focus on my hand on your chest." You kept your voice as calm and serene as possible. Marko dipped his head once, eyes still firmly pressed shut. "Whenever I press into your chest, I need you to breathe in through your nose, and try and press my hand away with your chest," you instructed, "when I release the pressure, you exhale slowly through your mouth." Marko wanted to speak, show you he had understood, but he found his words once again stolen from him by the panic attack. Instead, he dipped his head once again, but it was all the confirmation you needed.

You slowly and gently pressed the palm of your hand a little firmer into his chest. Marko took a shaky breath. He did his best to get his lungs to fill properly and get his chest to give counter-pressure against your hand, but couldn’t quite manage. "It’s alright," you eased him, "take your time. Just focus on the rhythm of the pressure of my hand and try to breathe with that." You felt how Marko was really trying to, but also how he wasn’t succeeding yet. His inhales were broken by shudders, and his exhales disrupted by sudden and involuntary gulps. "That’s it," you encouraged anyway, "easy does it."

Your hand never left his chest as you gently applied pressure and released it, with Marko doing his utmost best to get his breathing to fall in sync with it. You spoke soft encouragements, yet the silent moments in between were filled with Marko’s quiet whimpers. It didn’t matter to you how long it would take, you would help Marko through this.

---

Eventually, you sat with Marko like that for well over 30 minutes. There was no reason to rush anything. Soundchecks for the grand finale of tonight wouldn’t be starting for another few hours, so you gave him all the time he needed to pull himself out of this panic attack.

Marko’s pulse had returned to a regular, calm rhythm, as had his breathing. His trembling had subsided, but he sat beside you looking worn out from everything he had just gone through.

You gently let your hand fall away from Marko’s chest for the first time again. You kept a close eye on him, but he was able to keep his breaths calm by himself now. "Open your eyes," you said softly. Marko slowly did so. Even though the area where you sat was dimly lit, he still squinted at the light. He ran slightly trembling fingers through his silvery hair, before he finally looked up at you sitting next to him.

"I’m sorry about that." Marko sounded tired. "No need to apologise." You shook your head. "May I ask what happened?" "This happened." Marko chuckled wryly, motioning his hands to the area around you. "I’ve never performed at an event of this magnitude before. And… well, my stage fright took the better of me, I guess. It does that sometimes."

The airiness with which he spoke of his stage fright was pitiful, almost like it was the most common thing in the world for him. "But it doesn’t often get this bad, I reckon," you said sympathetically. "No." Marko sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair once more. "It doesn’t usually lead to a full-blown panic attack, and certainly not like this one, but, apparently, big stages lead to big anxiety." A dark chuckle followed. "That’s not even remotely funny," you scoffed. Marko gave a one-shouldered shrug. "I’m used to it by now."

He shifted his body, grunting softly as he stretched his cramped legs out in front of him. He leaned his head back against one of the crates behind him and glanced up at the ceiling for a moment.

"But what you did really helped me." He spoke after a few seconds of silence. "I’m not quite sure I would have gotten through this one on my own, so I’m really grateful." You shrugged. "I’ve got a bit of experience with panic attacks as well, I’m afraid. So I know how bad they can get."

Marko’s gaze slowly shifted back to you. "Yourself or helping someone deal with it?" "Myself, unfortunately." You sat back into a more comfortable position, too. "Some events in life leave more scars than you can imagine," you added darkly. "I’m sorry." Marko shortly rested a hand on your arm in support. "What I just did with you, my sister used to do that for me whenever my anxiety flared up," you explained, "it always helped me through it, so…" You let your voice trail off. "Well, tell her it’s a good technique." Marko winked lazily. "And I’m glad you’re the one who found me just now. Thank you." The sincere thankfulness was in his voice and in every fibre of his being.

The two of you talked for a while longer, before Marko slowly hoisted himself back onto his feet. He looked steady again, ready to go, and a glimpse of the extroverted Baby Lasagna shone through the cracks again.

"Will you be alright?" You stood back up, too. "Yes." Marko nodded confidently. "I know it sounds strange, especially after what you’ve seen just now, but it feels like I needed to get this out of my system in order to be ready for tonight." You chuckled, glad to see the sparkle of joy back in his eyes, instead of the sparkle of tears and panic. "Come see me if anything threatens to overwhelm you again." Marko nodded gratefully. "I sure will."

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