#my cat was trying to lay on my keyboard while i did this so sorry if it looks like sh*t xD

[ilici]

pay the consequence.

Summary: Y/N has been a brat all day while Sapnap, Dream, and George have been streaming. Once they get off and go to punish her, she quickly hides and once they find her she pays the consequences.

Request by: @gogywasfound​

NSFW MINORS DNI !!

Warnings: Choking, cockwarming, thigh riding, orgasm denial, oral (receiving & giving), hair pulling, size kink, and spanking.

Word Count: 2554

Y/N was now straddling Sapnap’s lap as he was streaming with his other two boyfriends, or to the world, friends. Sapnap agreed to let her stay on his lap if she was good, and she agreed. What he didn’t know is that she had already got kicked off of Dream’s lap for grinding against him. “I am streaming with 60k people watching, make one peep or even start something you’re off.” He told her, with his mic muted to both George and Dream, along with his stream. “Yes sir.” She whispered resting her head on his shoulder, playing with his now shorter hair. “How was your time with Karl?” She asked him quietly so the mic wouldn’t pick up, and he sighed muting his mic, “It was good, now quiet.” He told her, giving her hip a soft warning tap. Nodding, she stuck to just playing with his hair, and the hood that was connected to his hoodie. After a short moment of silence, besides Sapnap’s talking and the sound of his keyboard, she easily grew bored.

She let out a sigh, that Sapnap easily ignored, or he either couldn’t hear over George’s constant scream of fear. Tapping his shoulder trying to get his attention, he finally gave her two taps on the hip that indicated, ‘I’m listening’ and she smiled at that. Slowly she moved her hips around, acting as if she was trying to get comfortable, but in reality she was trying to make him hard. Sapnap froze as he felt himself growing hard, so he instantly tapped her hip warning her to stay still. Y/N on the other hand, pouted at this. She stilled her movement, but soon grinned when she felt his bulge against her inner left thigh. Sneakily she moved one of her hands from his shoulder, down in between her thighs. Sapnap’s breath hitched when he felt her hand palming him through his sweatpants, and soon leaned his head back at the sensation. Y/N smiled at his reaction, and continued palming him, before she was suddenly on the ground of his streaming room.

“Ow.” She whispered, and Sapnap muted his mic, before looking down at her, shifting around trying to hide his very obvious hard on. “I told you, and you disobeyed. My lap is off limits, and you’re getting punished once I am done streaming.” He told her, and Y/N whined before she got up walking away and to her last victim: George. This one was going to be tricky for her, as he had his facecam on. The world didn’t know they were all in a poly relationship, nor did the fans know they had a girlfriend. Thinking of what to do, she bit her lip in thought as she made her way downstairs to his streaming room. Thankfully his camera was pointed directly at the wall behind him, and not the door that was to the right of him. Slowly opening the door, praying it wouldn’t creek upon opening, George’s attention was now to the right of him as Y/N entered. Giving him a small wave, he gave her a gentle smile.

Muting his mic quickly, “Hey bubs.” He said, and Y/N smiled happily at the nickname, “Hi baby.” She replied back, crawling over towards him, sitting down beside him, out of view of the camera. “Can I stay in here?” She asked him and George nodded, “Of course, just don’t pop up or that would be a very long story.” He joked, and Y/N quietly giggled as she looked around his oddly plain streaming room. It was different from the other two, it lacked color. It was a dim grey, and had black decor. “Sorry guys, my cat got in and I had to tell him to go.” George smoothly lied, and laughed as the chat started spamming ‘cat reveal’. “Sorry guys, he already left, maybe next time.” He said, as he moved his hand over, out of camera view under his desk patting Y/N’s head ruffling her hair. Y/N just slapped at his hand, and planned on teasing him soon. She planned on being more cruel to him, mainly because she couldn’t just simply get on his lap like the other two.

Crawling under his desk, and in front of him, she was now settled between his legs. George threw her a confused glance, but didn’t think anything of it as she has done this before. Y/N sat there for a couple minutes, to not make herself seem suspicious, and finally she crept her hand up his leg playfully scratching his thigh through his pajama bottoms. George jumped slightly at this, and scrambled for an excuse, “I got a cold chill.” He explained, and Y/N could hear the muffled voices of her boyfriends, making sexual jokes about George’s “cold chill”. “Shut up, it’s cold in this house.” He said in defense, slapping at her hand. Y/N slapped his hand back, and he retracted it to continue playing Minecraft. Taking this as her chance, she lifted her other hand up, tugging on his pajama pants. George looked down at her with disapproval before he finally broke at the sight of her silent pleading. Raising up a bit, Y/N instantly tugged his pajama bottoms and boxers off.

George silently hissed as the cold air hit his now bare cock, and Y/N looked up at him grinning. Reaching back up, she grabbed the base of his cock, looking up at his face to see his reaction since he was the overly sensitive one. George bit his lip, quickly tipping his head back before stopping himself, holding back a breath of shaky air that wanted to escape. Watching as his cock grew harder by the minute, she leaned up licking a long stride up his cock, and he instantly shivered letting the shaky air escape his lips. Slowly, she wrapped her lips around his tip, and George muted his mic abruptly, leaning his head back letting a low moan out. He knew people were going to clip the video of him doing it, but he didn’t care in this moment. Y/N soon started bobbing her head once he was fully erect, gagging every now and then. George had now unmuted his mic, and was holding everything in him not to be vocal.

Soon George looked down and locked eyes with Y/N, her E/C looked innocent as his cock was settled in her mouth, and he almost came at the sight. If only Y/N wouldn't have pulled away, he would have right then and there. George held back a groan at the loss of warmth and pleasure, as he took glances every now and then to her, to not try and seem suspicious of just staring down under his desk. Y/N who was wiping away the drool on her face, quickly crawled away leaving her boyfriend behind half naked and rock hard. He instantly grew infuriated, and the ‘let’s play the guess where Dream is game’ comments didn’t help at all. He was going to punish her to no end, and he wouldn't regret a thing. Y/N was now laying on the couch, watching tv, when she heard movement from down the hall and upstairs. She froze, and soon she was panicking as she now had three horny angry men after her. 

Her first instinct was to just freeze, and finally it settled in and she bolted off the couch. She quickly ran into the kitchen, thankful she was wearing socks so her hurried footsteps were quiet against the hardwood flooring. Opening up one of the cabinets that she could fit in, she rushed into it trying to be as quiet as she possibly could. Closing the cabinet door, she heard the three meet up in the living room. “Have you seen Y/N? “Either of you seen N/N?” “Where’s Y/N?” The three spoke at the same time annoyance laced in their voices. The three threw each other confused glances, before Dream sighed, “She went to you two too didn’t she?” He asked, pinching the bridge of his nose, and Sapnap nodded while George cursed under his breath. “The damn brat practically gave me blue balls from not finishing the blow job.” George said, while Sapnap and Dream looked at him smirking.

“So it wasn’t cold, was it?” Sapnap said, and George just hit the back of his head, “Focus you idiot. Y/N obviously was being a brat, and she needs to be punished. We just have to find her.” George said, and Sapnap frowned rubbing the back of his head. “She was obviously watching tv.” Dream pointed out, as the covers were thrown on the floor, and the tv was still on. “So she couldn't have gone upstairs, nor down the hallway, so she is around here.” George concluded, and Sapnap looked around, “Y/N if you come out now you will not be punished!” Sapnap yelled, and there was no sign of Y/N coming out. “Well she’s either in here, the kitchen, bathroom, movie room, or outside. Last option is doubtful since the door is still locked.” Dream said, and they soon decided to break off and look for her. Not without a bet of $100 on the line, the idea from Sapnap. Dream walked around the movie room, looking under every possible thing he could.

Sapnap wandered around the living room and bathroom that connected to it. George was now walking around in the kitchen, trying to think of any hiding place. Looking behind the door, he groaned and the three were about to give up until George remembered a certain spot. “God we are so stupid!” He whispered to them, “We missed the first place she hid when we first moved in here.” He whispered to them, and the three were now pushing each other as they scrambled to the cabinets. Finally Dream was now opening the cabinet door, locking eyes with his girlfriend who nervously waved, “Hi baby..” She whispered, and Dream smirked, gently pulling her out of the small area. “Hello baby.” Dream said back, and Y/N nervously giggled, as she was now being carried to the bedroom. “I’m sorry.” She quickly said, as she held onto Dream looking up at Sapnap and George. Sapnap just shook his head, and George grabbed her face scoffing, “Brat’s aren’t sorry.”

Whimpering she yelped as she felt the impact of being thrown on the bed, “Undress now.” Sapnap demanded, and Y/N quickly stripped of the hoodie she was wearing, and sleeping shorts. “Everything.” Dream spoke up, and Y/N reluctantly took off her bra and underwear, leaving her bare. Soon after, the other three were now naked, and Sapnap got on the bed, picking Y/N up placing her on his lap. “No movements what so ever, got it?” He whispered in her ear, and Y/N shivered at the tone of his voice nodding. Slowly he entered in her, letting her cockwarm him. He moved back, bringing Y/N with him, as he leaned against the headboard, getting comfortable as Y/N was dying to move for sensation. “Look how small you are compared to Sapnap. God I would absolutely destroy you if I could.” Dream said, feeling himself get even more turned on from how small she looked on Sapnap’s lap.

George got up on the bed, as he stood up, using the headboard as balance. “Open.” He said, and Y/N opened her mouth, gagging instantly once George thrusted into her mouth. Sapnap held her hips still, as he noticed she tried to make subtle movement for friction, and soon Dream crawled onto the bed enjoying the sight of George face fucking Y/N as she cockwarmed Sapnap. “God this is my favorite sight ever.” He groaned out, as George quickly came inside Y/N’s mouth. Pulling out, Y/N coughed wiping the cum off of her face that managed to escape and trail down her chin. As soon as she was about to get her breath back completely, she felt a stinging sensation go through her skull as Sapnap pulled her hair back roughly, wrapping his free hand around her throat. “Not a sound from you.” He whispered into her ear, licking the shell of it. Nodding her head, she breathed heavily once his grip from her neck was gone.

Soon, she was able to raise her head back up as he let go of the death grip on her hair. Sapnap lifted her up off his cock, after a good moment of cockwarming. Y/N was roughly pulled over and slammed down on the bed, another hand clasped around her throat. “Hi baby.” Dream said, smirking as he used his other hand to trail down her body, playfully rubbing her clit. Y/N almost moaned, but was stopped when she remembered what Sapnap told her. “Such a good girl.” George spoke up from beside of her, as he caressed her cheek. Dream let go of her neck, as he licked his way down her body finally making contact with her clit. Arching her back, she bit her bottom lip roughly, as Dream started roughly eating her out like she was his last meal. George, held her hand, reminding her not to make a sound, and Y/N curled her toes as Dream sucked harshly on her clit.

Feeling herself growing close, Dream quickly pulled away and Y/N whined, which made the three men glare. “What did Sapnap say?” George said, and Y/N was now flipped over by Dream, her ass up in the air. Sapnap came over, and slammed a hand down on her ass, before he repeated this action a couple more times leaving both of her ass cheeks bright red. Y/N was now in tears from the feeling, while Dream rubbed her ass soothingly. “Are you ready?” Sapnap asked, as he pulled her back, letting her sit on Dream’s cock as he entered from behind with some lube. George watched, enjoying the beautiful scene in front of him, as Sapnap and Dream thrusted into her synced together, and Y/N’s moans were the cherry on top. They all loved how vocal she was, “Fuck, I’m close!” She moaned out loudly, and the other two grunted, “Cum with them. George told her, and she eagerly nodded as the two other sped up.

Feeling themself growing close, Sapnap and Dream nodded at one another, “Cum baby.” George told her, and Y/N let a very strong orgasm rake through her body as she felt the warm substance enter her in both holes. Soon she felt empty as the pulled out, George picking her up, carrying her tired body to the bathroom, the other two following behind. Sapnap started the water, as Dream got the bubble mix, pouring it into the water as George got into the tub with her. Dream slowly sinked into the tub as Sapnap got towels for everyone, before he himself sunk into the tub. Everyone relaxed in the water, before George turned it off, cleaning Y/N’s body and washing her hair. “Did you learn your lesson?” Dream asked, and Y/N tiredly nodded, “Yes sir.” She whispered.

[en-hale-archives]

Me with You ~~

pairing ⑅ bestfriend!Jake x fem!reader

genre ⑅ friends to lovers, fluff, slow dancing, suggestive/smut

words/read time ⑅ 3.9k/12-19 mins

warnings ⑅ 18+ content, light cussing

synopsis ⑅ Jake is back in his hometown to spend time with his closest friend. During some fun and frivolous dancing, things start to heat up...

author's note ⑅ I’m really proud of how this story turned out. I'm not a huge fan of second person, so I wrote in first, but if anyone asks, I can copy and post again in second person. It's more fluff than anything, but it does get a bit steamier towards the end, so I’m just going to go ahead and put a warning.

————✧————

When the back door finally slammed shut and the cacophony of barks faded down the street, I could finally let out my sigh of relief that I had been holding in since this morning. I tapped on my phone. How many days had we been watching Mrs. Chen’s pets? And just how was I able to put up with hours of barking, the smell of fresh turd lying across the lawn, and dog walks till dark? Including their rigorous feeding times and bathroom breaks -- I’m surprised I haven’t exploded yet.

I had so much planned the minute they left my house, but instead, the sudden silence felt all too relaxing and I laid my head against the cold countertop. I could finally stop stressing, stop thinking, and stop worrying about reprimanding for chewing on my shoes or peeing in the house or the continued barking that never ended. I was free. I felt like I could’ve stayed laid on the countertop forever, drowning in the evening sun. Who knew watching five dogs would take such a burden out of a person. Jake and I had taken on the job of dog sitting for Mrs. Chen while she visited some family in Tokyo. We both switched off every other day; some of the dogs at my house and the others at his; until we realized it would be easier if he just spent the few days at my house as we co-doggy sat. He got up bright and early to take them on their walks while I prepared their highly detailed and specific meals. Then from there, we spent the rest of the day making sure they didn’t run off somewhere or cause too much destruction in the house. But alas, Mrs. Chen came back early from her getaway and picked up Toby, Caleb, Khao, Sofia, and Pickle on her way home. Although I was exhausted from watching 3-foot dogs all day, the pay was amazing for me, and it would help tremendously for all the online classes I was going to be taking next semester.

The warmth of the sun cast a comforting trance over my heavy eyelids, and soon enough I was fast asleep, standing in the middle of the kitchen with the soft sound of nothing surrounding me.

By the time I had fluttered my eyes open, I had realized I was now seated in my dining chair and a large black jacket was placed over my shoulders. I sat up and let out a yawn, wincing at the bright light coming from the tv and shaking my now numb arm awake. I must have been sleeping for a while because the evening sun had turned to pitch of black. The moonlight beamed through the window and danced along with the sways of the large oak tree out front. I stood up and walked over to the refrigerator in which I grabbed two water bottles and some leftover pasta.

I was sure that Jake hadn’t eaten since lunch, seeing as he only ate if someone sat food in front of his face. I dragged my feet up the stairs until I heard the slamming of a book and the fast typing of a keyboard come from the living room. I turned and looked behind me. Jake had settled his things on the coffee table and floor, large books, folders, and several amounts of crumpled up pieces of paper found their way around Jake, himself slouched up against the edge of the couch. He had changed clothes since the last time I had seen him, he now wore a plain blue shirt with grey sweats, his eyebrows furrowed as he worked hard on whatever he was getting at.

“Oh yes, I was starving!” Propping himself up on the couch, he took the plate of pasta. I placed the waters on the coffee table and settled comfortably on the couch beside him.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever seen anybody sleep standing up before. Look,” Jake took his phone off the charger. “I got a picture.” He pushed the screen in my face, and of course, there was my unconscious body laying on the counter, mouth open and all. I playfully pushed it back his way as his face lit up with a smile I was all too familiar with.

“What are you doing down here so late, it’s almost 12 in the morning,” I asked. Jake’s smile disappeared when he was reminded of the work he had been doing seconds before.

He let out a large huff of air. “Trying to get some words on paper but instead it turned into a paper massacre,” he jokingly replied, “sorry for the mess.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied, taking a swig of water. I was going to ask if he wanted to watch a late-night movie, or pull an all-nighter and talk endlessly until the sun rose, but I could tell by each passing second that Jake was worried about this, and he wanted the time he had now over the summer to work on his music. I wished I was motivated to work on my own music, but unlike Jake, I wasn’t in a globally popular boy band. My complicated best friend for over 10 years had been working his butt off since middle school. It was his annual time to sit back and relax while he had the time to, but instead, he chose to use that time to help watch a bunch of dogs with his hometown bestie. God, I loved him.

Jake pulled himself off the couch and right back onto the floor, leaving the rest of the pasta to me. He picked up his pen again and started scribbling down words as quickly as he could, trying hard not to forget the lyrics that had floated into his head. Until he stopped, closing his eyes for just a split second, and let out a powerful sigh. Crumpling up the sheet, he stacks it on top of the others in frustration and started frantically tapping his pencil against the table.

“Maybe it’s best to just try again in the morning,” I advised, taking a small bite of the pasta that was left by my side.

“How come I’m having such a hard time with this?” He gazed up at me frantically for a clue, as if I had the answer to fix a problem as big and as important as his was. I looked at his doleful eyes and the bags that were starting to grow underneath them. I couldn’t help but think, because I made you sit up and watch a bunch of dogs with me.

“Do you want me to see if I could come up with something?”

“If you want. But, hold on, I think my thoughts are coming back up.” He quickly grabbed another piece of paper, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

I tried my best to keep occupied by watching videos on my phone, but I found myself suddenly bored out of my mind. I laid out on my back and picked up one of Jake’s folders. Briefly looking through it, I couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous at the amount of fan art and letters, praising him and the other members. Followed with that were just more and more engene stuff, full of nothing but kind words and heartfelt messages. Part of me wished that I was able to travel with Jake and see the world like he was. How fun would it be to meet people that praised you? And how cool would it be to see that you had fans? I couldn’t help but plaster on a huge smile as I skimmed through some of the notes until I finally came to one with familiar handwriting.

Remember Me were the words written on the top of the paper in bold and bright colors. But the message written underneath is what caught my attention:

To the person that makes me the luckiest guy in the world, this song is for you. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, but please just remember me -- it was Jake’s handwriting.

I didn’t feel like I was breaking any crime reading his stuff until this moment, but curiosity killed the cat, and right now I didn’t mind being a feline. I checked to make sure Jake was still busy, and he was, almost like he had teleported into his own world. I quietly turned back to the sheet and started reading. It was about a girl, presumably his crush I’m sure. She was someone important to him, someone who made him love so much that it hurt. But this was far from a happy song, in fact, it was terribly heartbreaking. She didn’t understand his love, she wasn’t able to interpret it like he wanted her to. But he confesses that he was scared of what telling her would do, worried that she wouldn’t feel the same. So instead, it was like he was apologizing, and asking that she forgive him for not being brave enough to tell her, and if he did ever get the courage to, for her to remember him even if she wasn’t able to love him like he wanted her to.

The song ends like how the title began, and I find myself flabbergasted at the beautiful mixes of rhymes and metaphors that read like a poem. This was the first of Jake’s songs that made me feel this way, like I had just finished watching a tragedy movie with Ryan Renolds starring. I blink back the tears that I didn’t realize were forming. How come he never told me this? We never kept secrets from each other, like ever. It never mattered the subject or the severity, we had always promised that we would be open and honest with each other. I wish I would’ve known this sooner, maybe I could’ve saved him from feeling this way. And what girl could it possibly be? I knew for sure I was the only girl he was presumably close to; but was there someone else?

I glanced down at Jake, who was still in a focused state of mind with the pencil in his mouth and mumbling lyrics softly under his breath. I tried picturing my bubbly Jake writing these agonizing words and miserably failed.

Jake looked up at me as if he could feel my gaze on the back of his head. “I think I’ve found the chorus, but it’s the rest of the song I’m not able to get, and how come it’s so hard to find another word that rhymes with severe? Beer? Sphere? Revere? Appear? Gosh, rhyming sucks some serious ass!”

“This song is beautiful.”

Jake furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Huh?”

“This song I found in your folder.” I glanced back at it in my hand. “Remember Me.”

Jake’s gaze leaped from my eyes to the sheet, and I felt his body tense. “Where’d you get that from?”

“I was just going through one of your folders. Did you accidentally get it mixed up in your fan folder? Cause this is -”

“Did you read it?” He interrupted.

“Yeah, and it’s perfect.”

Jake glanced at me for a split second before turning back around, obviously uncomfortable. “I was watching one of those Kdramas you love so much and it inspired me. Could you help me rhyme with severe now?”

I knew Jake like the back of my hand, so I knew continuing on with this conversation would get him upset if he’s clearly avoiding it. But, I wasn’t going to just let him off that quickly. “Jake, come on, you can tell me anything. Who is this about?”

Jake looked back at me with a hint of something in his eyes, something I’ve never seen before, and something I wasn't able to decipher. “Nobody, I was just feeling really inspired, that's it.” His tone had switched from calm to agitated.

I give him my I’m-not-stupid look and he comes back with his own you’re-being-delusional stare. “It’s seriously nobody, truthfully and honestly.”

“Okay, okay I’ll back off.” I could tell he was starting to get defensive, and when he got like that, it took him at least a few hours before returning to normal. I watched Jake's Adam's apple move up and down, a way in which I could tell he knew I was not convinced in the slightest. “Well, sometimes we go through things that can remind us of situations like that, but not necessarily in that same exact context, you know? It has to be amplified for that audience appeal.”

“Okay...but have you ever felt this way before? Not exactly like how it’s written, but maybe somewhere along these lines?”

I thought I was going to get another vague answer, or worse, an aggravated one. But instead Jake looked down at his pencil as he tapped it along his wrist. “...maybe, but I think everyone can connect to the words in some way. I mean, everyone feels some kind of heartbreak in their life, right?” Jake's answer was still pretty vague, but at least I was able to get something out of him.

“Okay, but you know you can tell me anything, like, anything ever because you know that you’ll never actually have to feel this way, right?” I said, maybe too much in a hurry.

“Of course I know that.” He replied, giving one of his awkward grins.

“And if anyone has made you feel this way, then you know you can tell me that too cause there a sucker to lose out on a perfect person like you.” I teased in a sing-song way, poking his shoulder hard. Jake chuckled and poked me back.

A weird silence grew in the room, and Jake went back to trying to find rhyming words. I tried getting back on my phone, but I knew I needed to say something to let go of the tenseness in the air.

���Hey, crystal clear rhymes!”

He leaned his head back and looked up at me. “Nevermind, I give up for tonight.”

I could see the stress that played on his face. “Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, but by the time I do, it’ll be too late.”

“What do you mean?”

Jake pulled his knees up to his chest and spoke. “This was going to go on our album comeback that needs to be finished in the next four months. By the time I think of something, it'll be too late and I’ll have to wait until the next four months. But by then, I'll have forgotten. This always happens and I have no idea how the hell to fix it.” I couldn’t tell if he wanted my help or just a bit of comfort.

“Did you try asking the other guys to see if they had any ideas?”

“Yeah, but they’re working on their own parts, I can’t ask them to do this too.”

“I’m sure they’d be willing to help if you asked,” I assured him.

“I know they would, but I just don’t want to. I always ask them for help, I thought being away from the studio and being back home would help my brainstorming abilities.” He gave a weary chuckle that almost sounded like a groan.

“Well, maybe tomorrow will come with better results.” I did my best to give him some motivation, but I could tell I was failing miserably at that too.

Jake watched as a car zoomed past the window, a low bass sounding off as it zoomed away. “I bet it’s easier to just listen to music than to try and come up with it. I remember when I would just blare NCT all day long and jam out in my room. It seemed so much easier back then to come up with stuff than it does now. I miss it.” He took a slight pause before continuing. “ Did you know that song you read was the easiest thing I have written in my life? I remember writing too. I just had this super weird feeling in my chest one day so I basically locked myself in my room and took maybe two hours and just wrote a bunch of words down and connected them to sound like a song. For once my mind had just gone blank and I couldn’t stop thinking and feeling that song, like I knew what it was supposed to sound like, I knew what the lyrics were supposed to mean. I just knew everything. And I miss that feeling, that feeling of like- '' He broke off his sentence when he looked back up to my eyes. It seemed like he was talking more to himself than to me. He swallowed hard and looked back at the pencil still in hand.

“Well, I'm sorry you don’t feel free anymore. I wish there was something I could do to make you feel like that again-”

“No, please don’t feel like that. It’s just something that had just recently started happening, something I really just can’t fix…” His voice gets softer and softer the more he spoke.

“Have you spoken to your manager about it?” I asked. “He’s super nice from what I understand. And he’ll probably have better answers than your friend who can barely play the piano, let alone produce an entire song.”

Jake laughed before I had the chance to. “ See, now you're underestimating yourself. Remember that song from freshman year? The one about-- what was his name, Josh?” Jake teased. I grabbed a pillow and slammed it into the back of his head. “Oh my gosh, I thought we promised we’d never bring it up again!”

Jake chuckled and laid his arm on the couch completely turning towards me. “How about we sneak out and go get ice cream and try to not wake up your mom in the process?”

I suddenly jumped to my feet when I have the perfect idea on how to cheer up the gloomy Mr. Shim. “Or, we could do something even better!”

“Urgh!” Jake groaned.

I grabbed my phone and hooked it up to the speaker. I was going to turn on his hit song Drunk-Dazed as a joke, but Jake needed this break from his career, so instead, I crunk up Beyonce as loud as it could go without disturbing my mom who slept upstairs. I turn back to Jake and reach out for his hands, already moving my hips to the music.

He shook his head and threw it back onto the couch as if throwing a temper tantrum. “I literally dance for a living.”

“Okay but this will be different, I promise.” I grabbed the piles of papers on the ground and threw them in the trash, I then pushed the coffee table near the wall and piled his folders and books neatly on top.

“Come on, cowboy!” I grabbed his hands and helped him up. He was reluctant to get up, but he threw one last groan before standing on his feet.

“This will get the brain juices flowing again!” I told him. I go back to my phone and switch it to one of my favorite Beyonce songs that she covered, At Last.

I sang dramatically to get Jake to smile, and luckily, it worked. I placed both my hands over his shoulders and swayed us back and forth, still miming the song as overly exaggerated as I could. Jake still couldn’t help but smile, and it didn’t take him long to join me in the rhythm and sway naturally with me. I learned at our middle school dance that Jake had perfect rhythm. He was able to impress the rest of the crowd when he busted out moves from BTS. Everyone was impressed, including me.

Now we were on a steady roll. I accidentally stepped on his feet a few times, but it was fine seeing as I was wearing foam flip-flops and he was barefooted. After a while, the song switched and played another of my favorites that didn’t match our style of dance, but we still moved slowly to the beat. Jake tried twirling me, but since I have two left feet, I almost ended up hitting the wall each time and Jake laughed loud at my clumsiness. The moonlight from the kitchen had now switched to the window in the living room. It gleamed through and glistened on Jake like a spotlight, just like the ones on the stage did for him. In a split second, I was reminded that he wouldn’t be here forever, just like he wasn’t here for the past year. I tried to not let it settle on my face that I was scared to see him go again, so I played up on the fun we were having now. Jake looked like he was at ease; finally, since he’d been here, he looked genuinely happy and I wasn’t going to ruin that.

After another handful of songs full of laughs and giggles, we were soon sweating and taking deeper breaths than normal. Each song was different from the one before, but it didn’t stop us from sticking to our style of dance. Even with the simplicity of the moves and the slowness of the steps, I had to take a minute to relax. I hooked my arms around his neck and rested my entire body on his. I could feel Jake’s own sweat seeping through his shirt, But I didn’t mind the wetness that was now attached to my cheek. I thought he would act awkward and ask for me to pull away, but instead, he gripped tighter on my hips and started slowly moving me side to side. I let out a long overdue sigh, trying my best to match the steady breathing of Jake’s with my own. It was actually therapeutic: hearing his heartbeat in one ear and the softness of the music in the other.

I tried to continue our steady breathing together, but his had picked up a bit, almost out of nowhere. I felt the heat of his breath on the nape of my neck, and it made my entire body tingle in a way it never had before. After this sudden feeling, I realized just how close we really were. His leg hair tickled my legs, I could feel the bone of his foot connecting to mine, I could feel his thin waist against mine as well. I felt like I needed to back up, but instead, I couldn’t and continued to sway softly against him. A few seconds later, Jake’s hands rose a little higher, planting themselves on my waist and tightening their grip as if they were trying to pull me closer than we already were.

The sensation hadn’t stopped though, it clung to my body like my damp shorts did on my thighs. Sooner or later I felt pressure on the lower part of my stomach and thought for sure that Jake was messing around and wasn’t feeling what I was, which indicated that I needed to pull back before this feeling became too much.

This is so embarrassing. I thought. How could I let myself feel like this? How was this in any way okay? I finally pulled back, the sensation becoming too unbearable, and glanced up at his face. His pupils were large in a way I hadn’t seen before. His mouth was slightly open and a drop of sweat slowly traced down his forehead, onto his nose. That pressure I was feeling on my stomach had now doubled in force, and Jake's face had switched from calm and subtle, to alarmed and panicked...

————✧————

(part 2 possibly...?)

Thank you guys so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave any constructive criticism you have on helping improve my writing!

————✧————

None of the images are mine, They all belong to their rightful owners :)

[alrightberries]

dante’s inferno

request: wassup homie could you maybe write a college au fic where levi and reader are rommies, then one day reader brings home an adopted cat without levi's prior knowledge? You could decide what happens next lol. Tysm 🥺

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack ❈ word count: 4k

❈ summary: college au. in which you bring a stray cat to your dorm and your neat freak roommate won’t let you keep it.

alternatively: a compilation of college shenanigans where you and levi are best friends who are bad with feelings (ft. an unamused cat named dante)

❈ trigger warnings: profanity. mentions of alcohol and smoking. implied smut.

a/n: this was supposed to be loosely based on the nine circles of hell according to inferno by dante alighieri— hence the title— but i did my research wrong so now it’s loosely based on the seven terraces of purgatory according to divine comedy. i’m keeping the title tho.

Inspired by this art by @ryuichirou on tumblr.

Permission to repost art was granted by the artist. Do not repost/edit the art without explicit permission from the artist.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

i. first terrace: pride

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why?”

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why.”

Levi’s tongue clicks in annoyance. His eyes glance next you where the offending creature lay on your bed; tail curling, paws kneading at his your favorite fleece blanket. Quite frankly he’s a little offended when the little shit has the audacity to glare at him back.

He’ll never admit it, but his ego’s a bit bruised because the cat’s glare was slightly better than his.

“I said no,” he firmly replies, looking back to you. “It’s bad enough I have to share a room with an anarchist who has no respect for boundaries—“

“One time, I forgot to use a coaster that one time!”

“—and now you expect me to share a room with a dirty fur ball who does nothing but eat, shit, and sleep?”

“He’s a cat, Levi.” You murmur, scooping the cat into your arms. “And he has a name,” you give a nervous smile when you see your rommate grit his teeth. He feels a headache coming.

“You named it?”

“Dante is not an ‘it’.”

Levi makes a move to step closer but immediately stops when the ‘Dante’ hisses at him.

“Aw, he likes you.” You coo.

“Clearly,” he replies unenthusiastically. “Listen,” he sighs. “I respect your cat’s pronouns but that doesn’t mean he’s allowed to stay. Or do I need to remind you of the mac and cheese incident?”

Okay, maybe he was on to something. If you got caught with a pet in the dorms you’d breach your third and final warning, and you’d be forced to dorm off-campus. The fact that you were still here after the mac and cheese incident was solely because Levi pulled some strings (aka asked Erwin, golden boy of the campus who owed him a favor, to pull some strings).

But you couldn’t just let Dante go. There was something about him that felt so familiar; something about his black fur, thin silver eyes, unamused snarl, and overall grumpy demeanor. Especially endearing was the way he’d grumble and pretend to be annoyed whenever you tried to cuddle him but would complain if you stopped.

You just couldn’t figure out who or what he reminded you of.

Maybe you would’ve figured it out too if you weren’t so distracted with watching Levi and Dante stare at each other. Your eyes dart back and forth between the grouchy cat sitting on your bed and your grouchy roommate sitting on his desk. Both were slightly crouched over with their heads tilted up in a show of dominance; they were engaged in what seemed to be a glaring contest, gunmetal irises unamused and mouths taut in a snarl as they protected their territory.

You sigh. You really, for the life of you, couldn’t figure out why Dante felt so familiar.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

ii. second terrace: envy

Levi is not jealous. He’s not.

At least that’s what he tells himself as he sulks alone on his bed. His arms are crossed and his lips are in a pout, eyebrows knitted in distaste, occasionally glancing to your side of the room where you sat up on your bed. He’s sure whatever movie you chose to watch together is interesting and all, but right now all he could pay attention to was that stupid cat. Sitting on your stupid lap. Getting its fur stroked by your stupid hand. Getting all the love and affection his stupid self should be receiving.

It was him you should be cuddling, not Dante. Saturday nights were reserved for him and you, not you and a cat while he happened to be in the room. He’s been trying to make a move on you since high school and he can’t fucking believe he’s losing your attention to a cat. Sure, he’s always been too chicken to make a move and had to suffer seeing you get together with assholes— as per your type during your emo high school days— but this was a new low. He can’t wrap his head around the concept that he’s losing his longterm crush to a motherfucking cat.

When you coo at how adorable the fleabag was for what felt like the 50th time that night, Levi decides he’s had enough of the cuddle-hogging piece of shit.

Wordlessly, he crosses to your side of the room and lifts the cat from its perch, ignoring your protests as he sets it down on the floor and tells it to ‘scram, you little fuck.’ He uses a hand to dust your lap free of any microscopic cat particles Dante probably left behind before lying down his head down once he was satisfied. He grabs your hand to put it on his hair.

“Stroke.” He orders, eyes closing.

“What? No! You pushed off Dante.”

“He was in my spot.”

“You couldn’t have given up your lap pillow for one night?”

“One night?” He scoffs and turns to look at you. “You’ve been abandoning me for two weeks. That disgusting, tic-infested, rabies-carrying slob has no business sitting on your lap.”

“He’s not disgusting, you gave him a shower before you agreed to let me keep him. And I took him the vet to make sure he had all his shots. He’s clean, Levi.”

“Tch, good. Now throw him out and let him find someone else to freeload from.”

“Okay, what’s going on?” You guffaw. “You’ve been grumpier than usual. And why’re you being such an ass to Dante? He’s just a cat.”

“Don’t think he’s special in some way. I’m an ass to everyone.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re always extra mean to him?”

He doesn’t reply. His lips are downturned into a frown when he looks away with a click of his tongue, and you realize with a sigh you won’t be getting an answer from your cryptic roommate soon. Your fingers start mindlessly stroking his undercut when you get lost in your thoughts— a habit you developed through years of Levi using your lap as a pillow. He always complained the first few times you did it but you knew it calmed both him and you, and that it put both your minds at ease. Moreso Levi right now, apparently.

You’re keenly aware of how he seems to curl up into you the more you keep going. You watch as his shoulders slump down when you stroke the side of his face, and his eyebrows relax slightly. From your angle, you could even see the way his eyes close in content. Maybe even a tiny smile if you were being delusional.

Your lip twitches upward.

“Oh my god, Levi, are you jealous of a cat?”

“Shut up and play with my hair.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iii. third terrace: wrath

“You owe me a new cravat.”

You blink up at your roommate. “What?”

“You owe me a new cravat.” He repeats. He pulls from his pocket a white piece of fabric— barely recognizable— torn into shreds, releases it mid-air. It gently lands on your open palm.

“Wait, did Dante do this?” You ask, eyeing the slik in your hands.

“Unless you went feral in the middle of the fucking night and decided to cut up my clothes, yes.”

“Oh my god, Levi, I’m so sorry. I swear Dante will never—“

“You actually owe me three cravats,” he interjects. “The first two I overlooked since they weren’t that expensive but I draw the line here.” His lips are downturned into a frown, eyes poorly concealing his clear distaste. “This one’s my favorite and it was made from silk.”

You eye the fabric in your hands once more before nodding in understanding, setting down the once beautiful cravat before taking out your wallet. It was only fair that you paid him back; he was being more than generous with letting your cat stay and keeping it a secret, and now you wonder how many bad things Dante’s done that Levi’s overlooked or simply never brought up with you.

“Sure, I’m really sorry. How much do I owe you?”

Levi doesn’t say anything. Instead he pulls out his phone and types something on what you could only assume was google, most likely looking for the same brand of the cravat your cat had just torn into shreds. You weren’t entirely sure how much those could cost, but surely you could afford—

“What the fuck!” You screech, eyeing the page with very, very hefty price tags listed. Holy fucking hell where did he even get the money to buy something so expensive. Gulping, you nervously look up at your unimpressed roommate. You already knew he was taking it easy on you; his aura was the only thing intimidating, at least he wasn’t giving you the murder eyes. And even though he was a man of his word, you were thankful he hasn’t reported Dante.

Still, it didn’t change the fact that Levi looked pissed beyond belief.

“Uhm... can I pay you with a check that’ll definitely bounce?”

“You will pay me in cash.”

“Fuck, fine!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iv. fourth terrace: sloth

Levi silently works on his desk. His laptop’s open in fromt of him, numerous notes from classes and books from the library surrounding him. The gentle sounds of clicking and clacking echoe throughout the room as fingers typed at the keyboard, eyes concentrated and lips pulled taught as he focuses on his task. He’s on a roll. He’s almost done with this part of his research, nothing could snap him out of this, he just needs to—

“Levi, when do you think Dante will come back to me?”

He stops typing and grits his teeth.

This is how it’s been the entire night. Ten minutes of peace before you ask him some stupid questions that could’ve been answered with common sense.

“Fuck if I care.”

“Do you think it was something I did?”

He resumes typing. “Yes.”

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

“No.”

“Even after all we’ve been through?”

“Still no.”

“I miss him,” you sigh. “I miss him so much.”

“Then you shouldn’t have left the door open.”

It’s been a week since Dante escaped the dorm and Levi doesn’t understand why you’re still so depressed about it. I mean, you only lost a cat that you loved and treasured and treated like family. Surely a week of moping around in your pajamas and eating nothing but chips and soda was catharsis enough.

He hears you shift in your burrito blanket, presumably to turn away from him so you can sulk into the wall next to your bed. Good. Now he can get back to working on—

“Levi do you think Dante-“

“Enough.” He grits, slamming his laptop shut.

“Where’re you going?” You ask, eyeing the way he hurriedly stuffs papers and books into his bag along with his laptop.

“Out.” He replies, grabbing his keys and his coat. “I can’t stand this shit anymore.”

Your head is burried in your blankets when he slams the door shut and all you could do was slump down because great. You lost Dante, and now you’ve royally pissed off Levi.

Great. Just fucking great.

Unlike your cat, however, your roommate comes back hours later, just before curfew. He doesn’t bother with a hello— he never does— and neither do you, opting to stay hidden underneath the sheets. Though suddenly, there’s a dip in the mattress followed by a pur next to your head.

Could it be?

“Dante?” You murmur, lifting your head from underneath your cocoon of fabric. Small black paws and silver eyes meet your gaze. “Dante!” Immediately sitting up, you pulled him to your lap, scratching his little head and cooing about how much you missed him as he purred and curled into to you.

Levi would never say it, but he missed seeing you smile at the little fleabag.

You turn to look at your roommate. “How’d you find him?”

“Asked around the campus. He wandered into another dorm building and probably thought it was ours.”

“Well yeah but... I thought you hated him?”

“I do.” He replies instantly.

“Then why’d you find him?”

“I hate him, not you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

v. fifth terrace: avarice

“I fucking hate both of you,” Levi grumbles, staring at the dorm.

Towers of boxes lined his supposed to be clean dorm room. He had a hard time prying the door open since it was blocked, and he wasn’t even sure how the boxes weren’t blocking out the light from how high they were piled. Dante’s sat on a stack of box directly next to the door, purring and flicking his tail around. Levi squints his eyes and glares at the little shit.

“You especially.”

“Mrow?”

Levi’s day had been, with no irony or sarcasm at all, amazing. He got a good grade on his research paper; the guy in front of him at the cafe accidentally ordered an extra serving of (coincidentally, Levi’s favorite) tea and gave it to him for free; and he got full marks for the presentation he’s been worrying about for weeks. His class even got dismissed early so he had an extra hour for lunch. He knew you didn’t have classes, so in honor of his great day he thought he’d do something nice and take you out for lunch. His treat, of course.

But any trace of his good mood vanished when he went back to the dorms and got greeted to a room that looked like it came from an episode of Hoarders.

This is what he gets for trying to be nice.

“Levi! Is that you?” You called out.

“What the fuck happened?”

You laugh sheepishly— at least Levi thinks you do. He couldn’t see you beyond the hundred boxes that took up your shared room. He hears some rustling and the sound of things being moved around before finally your head pops out from behind a wall of brown, smiling at him apologetically before walking towards him (and tripping a few times).

“Remember when I said I’d order some toys for Dante as a surprise?”

Levi’s eye twitches. “Don’t tell me—”

“I accidentally ordered 10,000 instead of 10. Online shopping struggles, am I right?” You nervously chuckle at his pissed off face. Levi was not in the mood.

Your smile widens as you make twinkly gestures with your hands. “So uh... surprise?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

vi. sixth terrace: gluttony

The clinic is still when you first entered.

The harsh smell of alcohol and sterile metal makes your nose grimace, and the coldness of the thermostat brings goosebumps to your arms. Behind the wall, somewhete in the waiting room, cats are hissing, dogs are barking, and you could even hear the sound of birds angrily chirping and rattling their cages.

Dante cowers in fear on the silver table, and your heart aches. His ears are down and his fur’s standing on its ends, but you couldn’t comfort him. Not right now, at least. The veterinarian still needed to do a few more checks.

You gulp, “how’s... how’s Dante looking, doc?”

“Not good,” she murmurs. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and she takes a deep sigh as she eyes the information on the chart. “It’ll take months before he can walk properly again, possibly more if we don’t do anything about it soon.”

“Don’t tell me... is he—-”

“I’m sorry, my dear,” she sighs. “But your cat is heavily obese.”

The corners of your lips twitch down into a frown, and your palm is warm when you start to stroke Dante’s fur. He calms down a bit from your touch, less on edge but still guarded as he warily eyes the doctor’s gloved hands.

“But I don’t understand,” you reply. “I’ve been following the recommended diet you put him on, and I haven’t been feeding him anything other than the cat food and vitamins you recommended. How’s he still obese?”

“Well, we could look into other solutions, but for now I think we ought to look at whether or not Dante has an underlying health problem.”

Levi tunes out the chatter between you and the vet, bored eyes staring into nothing. He’s leaning against a wall and he’s watching the cat carrier. Your bag’s slung over his shoulders and your coat’s in his arms, and he was sure you didn’t even need him to be here for “moral support.”

He mentally scoffs. You probably just needed a chauffeur to drive you for free, and honestly, Levi would rather feel like a chauffeur than a coat rack.

His eyes make contact with Dante’s, and all the fear in the cat’s eyes is suddenly gone, replaced with a steely glare and bared teeth. A warning, one no one else notices but him.

Levi gives him a solitary nod, understanding what Dante wanted to say.

Don’t tell Y/N I’ve been sneaking to the neighbors.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

vii. seventh terrace: desire

There’s something about the buzz of alcohol and nicotine that makes Levi confident—- the liquid courage in his veins and the smoke in his lungs clouding his judgement. Perhaps that’s where he finally gets the balls to cross the room, drunken eyes on your equally intoxicated ones, before he pulls you in for a kiss.

The kiss starts slow, with lips just interlocking and lightly testing the waters. But then he feels your tongue make its way inside his mouth and your fingers weave into his hair to tug him closer, and Levi loses the last threads of inhibition he has. His tongue massages yours and one of his arm wraps around your waist, the other comes down to grope and knead your ass. He feels you walk backwards and your hand pulls at his tie, dragging him with you. Suddenly he’s trapping you against a wall, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around his hips so he could grind his crotch into yours.

Levi doesn’t expect his first kiss with you to be like this; messy and full of tongue and spit, full of fingers clawing at clothes and small grunts escaping your lips. He was hoping it’d be more romantic, with warm cheeks and fingers softly intertwining, shy kisses exchanged through little smiles.

But he’s not about to complain—- he’s wanted to be with you for years, and god he loved having you like this. Loved having you all hot and desperate, trapped between his firm chest and the wall. His cock is hard in his pants, and he just about growls when he feels you start to undo his belt, the fly of his pants coming down as you got on your knees and stared up at him with innocent eyes as you pull out his aching boner. There’s a cheeky grin your face when you pump at his length, and your tongue peaks out of your mouth before—

“Levi, are you okay?”

His eyes snap open, and he’s greeted to the sight of your worried face directly above his.

“Fuck!” he yells, and his forehead slams into yours when he flinches away. “Sorry, sorry” he quickly ammends when you yelp in pain.

He’s covered in sweat, he notices. Chest heaving, heart beating a little too loud for his liking, and he silently pulls the blankets over his cum stained boxers when you sit beside him.

God, he was really hoping you wouldn’t notice the fact that he came in his pants like a high schooler. And it was before dream you even got to suck him off. How much more pathetic could he be.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“Yeah, m’fine, it’s just...” your eyes are distracted, staring off into space. Fingers trace his thighs, and you sigh. “You were having a nightmare,”

Levi blinks. “What?”

“You were having a nightmare,” you repeat. “Kept tossing and turning and groaning in your sleep. And you kept making these... funny faces,”

“...right,” he nods. Sure, a nightmare. A nightmare he never wanted to wake up from.

It takes about ten minutes to reassure you that yes, he was fine, don’t mind the way his cheeks are flushed, he was just... shaken up from his nightmare, is all. Then you’re back to bed, sleeping the night away, and twenty minutes later he’s on his way back to bed too; this time with a fresh pair of boxers and a content look on his face, all thanks to him finishing off his fantasies in the communal bathroom during his shower.

The door makes a quiet click when he shuts it behind him, and he freezes when he catches sight of Dante sat up on your bed, tail flicking behind him as he gives Levi a knowing look.

Levi squints his eyes, and he threateningly whispers, “you tell no one.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

epilogue

The half empty room brings a frown to your face, and all you could do was pout as you sealed up the last of the boxes.

“Why do you have to leave again?” you ask, and Levi turns around as he finishes folding the last of his clothes. He shrugs. “Cats aren’t allowed in the dorms.”

You owed him your entire college career, that much was sure. The RA’s found out about Dante, and Levi had taken the fall to spare you. He wasn’t required to move out since it was only his first strike, but he insisted on doing so so that Dante wouldn’t be alone, saying he already found an apartment nearby and he’ll never hear the end of it from you if he didn’t take Dante with him.

Bullshit. Levi had a soft spot for Dante, you knew that much. He wasn’t doing it for you, he was doing it for himself. Though normally you’d be overjoyed to know that Levi really did secretly like the cat he pretended to hate so much, this time, you were just pissed. You couldn’t believe a fucking cat was stealing away the guy you’ve been in love with since high school. Sure, you were too much of a coward to ask him out, but he was basically your boyfriend already—- the entire campus knew you inadvertently had dibs on each other.

“Yeah but... do you have to leave me alone?”

“I asked you to come with me, and you said no.” He points out. “I still don’t see why when we’ve been roommates since we were freshmen.”

“It’s different off-campus!”

“How?”

“Because it’s like... it’s like we’re moving in together, y’know?” you reply. “And it seemed wrong to move in with you when we’re not even dating.”

“Let’s do it, then.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, handing you a spare key to what you could only assume was his new apartment. You glance between him and the key in your hands, and he rolls his eyes when he realizes that you still don’t get it.

“I know we’re doing this backwards since couples don’t typically move in before the first date,” he says before gesturing to Dante. “But we already have a son, and I know you’re his favorite parent. We can share custody until you can move in with me.”

You blink. “What?” Your brain stopped working when Levi referred to you as a couple, and you’re pretty sure your heart stopped beating too. At this point, anything he said went in one ear and out the other. He flicks your forehead.

“Hey— ow! What was that for?”

“You weren’t listening.”

“And you’re being a prick!” you grumble. “It hurts, y’know.”

He scoffs. “What do you want me to do? Kiss it better?” he scoffs.

Your mouth moves faster than your brain, “I’d rather you kiss me.”

Wait. What?

Before you could go back on your words, Levi shrugs. Warm palms gently grab your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his. Your eyes widen and you momentarily freeze, brain definitely not working anymore. He hesitates when you don’t make a move, but then you’re shyly leaning forward, and that was all the confirmation Levi needs.

“If you insist,” he whispers, and suddenly your words die on your tongue when his lips interlock with yours.

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

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[stylistiquements]

Day 1 : Soap Bubbles.

𐐪𐑂 Pairing : Sapnap x fem!reader {Playlist}

𐐪𐑂 Summary : You're being introduce to the internet in a peculiar way, it's up to you to decide what you're going to do with it.

𐐪𐑂 Word count : 1.4k | W: written part underneath

𐐪𐑂 Warning : very few swears

Masterlist | Previous | Next

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

The coffee that sinks inside your stomach brings out a grimace and a click of your tongue where the taste stains; too bitter, too acidic but you’ll drink it anyway and to the last drop; there is something about the idea of spending time with three best friends that is so made of spring and honey that you wish to miss none of it.

“Someone is lurking,” George contemplates out loud, and the call goes silent for a second as if to look for the intruder. And it would so easy to flinch, to hit the back pedal, because you almost feel like one being exposed front stage like that. But today- today is not that day.

It's not that you don't want to join the discussion, it's that it takes a second to warm up, to absorb the energy and become one with it.

And sometimes, all it takes is Sapnap to exclaim, “Panini head, my beloved!” for your smile synchronizes with his chuckles. Somehow, once noticed by the right person, life flows back naturally.

George and Dream greets you in trailing unison, like two kids forced to greet their unwelcomed aunt on a sunday afternoon.

“H-hey troublemakers,” you finally say. Your voice is still quiet, not reluctant, but rather uncertain. It doesn't bother anyone.

“I’m beating Dream’s ass at chess and he’s bitter,” Sap explains, and you silently nod, as if they were able to see you.

A long silence follows along, rythmed by clicks of mouses and keyboards and it falls in your ears like high droplets. It's comfortable. It's intimate, shared with friends only.

"We haven't heard from you in a while," Dream says. "I mean ... before the clout fiasco."

You wouldn't exactly call it a fiasco, even though you don't really like the idea of being perceived a little too closely from the eyes of twitter.com, but you do agree anyway, "I've been caught up on college essays lately."

"That sucks," George probably adds.

“Good thing you’re here, then,” Dream notes, simple as a breath. “This is a worry-free zone.”

It hovers for a second, carried by George’s approval hum.

You squint suspiciously, detective mode, at the profile pictures that light on and off before your eyes, “Thanks, dream.”

He scoffs a “sure” and you’re not sure why you sense a bit of irony stuck on the back of his teeth. You're so tempted to call him out, but you don't. Instead, you write a mental note of this odd moment.

“It’s because I told him about your three brothers and now he’s scared they’re gonna find him and kick his ass,” Sap explains as if he just read your mind.

Sometimes, there’s this thing in the air, though you’re miles away. Something like a connection. There’s this thing when you don’t need to talk for Sap to understand. Sharing one brain cell, you dismiss ironically. Probably coincidences and predictability, but it always sounds a little special, a little like something you’d wish to be out of this world, like morning dew and fairy circles. And it makes you feel safe, at home, just like snuggling up in the sheets during a stormy night. Your smile washes up the sleeve of your hoodie, covered palm carefully hiding your chuckles.

“Three older brothers,” George muses, and there’s no telling if it’s something meant for you to hear. “That’s kinda scary.”

“You better be scared, one of them is probably your FBI agent,” you tease mindlessly, though there's nothing scary about those three grown men.

“I’m British, Bunny,” he points out. Whether the exasperation in his tone is fake or genuine, that, you can’t tell, but you play it cool, grin carved so deep it almost hurts. Dream’s wheezes rise and fall in the background.

“Say that to his face then,” you outbid smirkingly after a second of silence, heels growing into the carpet to make your chair spin slowly left and right, so breezily.

“I’d praise you for the rest of my life if you-Oooooooh your ass is wacked. Your ass is so wacked, dude. You fucked up so bad,” Sapnap chokes out between strings of giggles.

“Oh no, my streamer is losing his game?” You theatrically pout. “My streamer Dreamwastaken, have you met him? Guess you don’t need any of my brothers to kick your ass.”

“Okay yeah- no- it’s not my fault if your- they’re distracting me, okay?” Dream defends.

Slowly, the energy lowers again and the call remembers peace as Dream admits defeat.

“I’m not playing against you anymore,” he mumbles through greeted teeth, your hoodie shelters a muffled giggle. “Let’s talk about y/n’s twitter fame instead.”

“Let’s just not-” you mutter, both because seeing Dream lose at something is a miracle that has to be witnessed once and because you’re somewhat reluctant. “Let’s just not talk about that.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. I had no idea it would draw this much attention to you,” Sap admits.

“Well, you talk about her all the time it was only a matter of time before twitter finds out,” George taunts and you secretly smile, listening to the way your best friend tries to defend himself, mind flooded with the last memories you have of when you were able to see those chuckles for real.

“Yeah, Quackity already told me you guys talk behind my back,” you fakely muse. “That’s totally fine, I don’t wanna know what you guys are talking about at all.” It’s a lie, obviously, the idea creeps upon your mind with assumptions you can’t quite get a grip of nor let go.

“You and Quackity talk?’ Sapnap asks, hint of surprise, and you hum.

“Or rather, he talks to me. He keeps calling-.” Shit. The forsaken word traps itself into your mouth. It’s too silly anyway.

“Come on, just say it,” Dream pushes as if he knew too much, more than you even do, and your cheeks flush mindlessly. You don’t notice.

“Dream, quit it!” You demand.

“Quit what?”

“You talk as if you knew more than anyone did.”

“Maybe I just do,” he coos, so dream-like.

Oblivious or careless, Sapnap asks, “Is Quackity bothering you or something?”

“He-" you begin but stop to look for the right way to put it, "He triggers my flight or fight response.”

"I mean, duh," Sapnap probably rolls his eyes.

"But I like him. He's funny."

After a second of silence, George says, “Well that was unexpected.”

“Not so much, I think we’re both chaotic neutral people.”

“What is that neutral chaotic thing anyway?” Dream is confused.

Roll up your sleeve girl boss because now is your time to shine! You offer your best dream smp alignment chart to the classroom. They're speechless, but they listen carefully.

"Then you're more chaotic good than neutral. You're too sweet anyway," Sap says.

"I'd even say lawful good," George debates.

"That's because you haven't seen Bunny during her crazy cat hour."

"True," you note.

"She'll go absolutely batshit."

“What?" George burst between confusion and surprise. "We've never seen you like that."

"A lady never reveal her secrets," you retort. No one answer.

It leaves a second for your mind to enjoy peace. For your eyes to lay on c!tubbo on lawful good and think true, then on c!dream on chaotic evil and think also very true. You huff and it's like a wave; as sarcasm leaves your breath, an idea comes in.

"Sap, check your DMs," you request.

Surrounded by the evening lull, Sapnap’s laugh pops like soap bubbles, "God, you’re so stupid. Why can't you just marry me?"

“So, is it Sapnap approved?” You chuckle lightly to prevent Sapnap’s morning fresh laugh to fill your chest and leak everywhere.

“Just press ‘send tweet’ please,” he confirms with leftovers of a smile in his voice.

"George, get me out of here. They're doing it again," Dream whines.

"Doing what?" He asks, unbothered.

"Act like they're alone in the convo. Just get a room." And you don't get to stand up for yourself that you and your best friend are actually sent to another room.

"Well this one is chaotic evil confirmed," you mumble as you roll your eyes but the vibes are much peaceful, much more comfortable in here. "So ... hi."

"Hi," he chuckles in return.

Maybe that's for the best; a moment that needs to stay a little timeless, secretive and special. It hasn't happened in so long, you don't even remember the last time it did.

"I'm glad you're here. I miss you, you know?" He says, and it's hard to not feel so bittersweet about it. It's hard when longing involves a craved touch, a real smile and an eye contact. Your shoulder sinks in the chair a little harder.

"I miss you too. I'll be here soon," you promise. And soon couldn't come any sooner.

But the conversation, soft and free, will wash up any worries, as always, and you'll end up talking about everything and nothing, about streams and planned videos and college and god knows what. As long as it makes the two of you happy and smiling. Just like the old days, you'll both think and it's fair to say until the evening turns into night and night turns into fatigue.

"Are you sure you're okay about that clout?" He asks once again. "I know you don't like being exposed like that."

"Yeah, yeah don't worry too much about it. I'll try to make good use of it."

"I'm sure you will," he murmurs, but oh boy did he not know what was about to come until you two meet.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

Taglist : @open-minded-chip-101 ; @itsoakaa ; @gaysludge

A/N : so first of all it has come to my attention that 129 days from now on is actually my birthday so that's a weird coincidence lol. Hi how are you guys?? welcome to the first part I hope you liked it. I'm fairly new to the mcyt community and that's the first time I write for them, so bear with me. Feedbacks are always appreciated. Until next time (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)

[sailorhyunjinz]

~ ℙ𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕗𝕦𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕣!𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕙𝕠 ~

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: SMUT; sub!minho x gn!harddom!reader. Brat/brat tamer, light petplay, explicit pictures, masturbation, nicknames, restraints (leash).

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 1.3 k 

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: minho + leashes = forever

fuck why is he so damn cute in this gif my heart

Your phone vibrated as you continued to type on the keyboard, trying to finish up the last of this work presentation. Your he phone lit up displaying a message from Minho. Grabbing the phone you smiled, maybe he had sent you a picture of dinner or something that would lift your foul mood but what you saw made your blood boil. 

Multiple pictures of Minho’s naked body popped up. His body reflecting in the full length mirror as he sat facing away on his knees, turning around his torso and holding the phone in his hand. The white fluffy cat ears sitting snugly on his head and a playful cat tail buttplug filling him up. 

‘Hurry or else I’ll touch myself’ was the message attached to the similar photos. Minho knew how to push your buttons. He knew that if he broke any of your rules there would be consequences but being the brat that he is he often did it with purpose, wanting to attract all your attention to him. 

You slammed the phone against the desk and sighed, looking at the clock ticking. 

“1 hour left” you mumbled underneath your breath as you rolled your eyes.

The hour passed in a blur and the moment the clock striked 5 pm you grabbed your belongings and ran off in a hurry. 

Nearing the shared apartment you fumbled with the keys and eventually unlocked the front door being greeted with complete silence.

“Minho? You there?” you yelled out as you put down your bag, turning on the small lamp standing on the black table next to the door, throwing your keys lazily on the table.

No answer.

This was sketchy to say the least. He always greeted you, his clingy side always appearing when the two of you are alone, a secret between you and him. You looked around the apartment until you heard someone sighing loudly from the bedroom. You flung open the door, observing the scene that unfolded infront of you. 

Minho was laying on his back, eyes shut as he pumped his veiny length, his ears bright red and the tip of his dick leaking with precum. A multitude of pillows surrounding the brown haired boy whose cat ears were lopsided, almost falling from his sweaty forehead. His chocolate brown eyes sprung open, smiling his eye smile at you sarcastically as he quickened the pace.

“Welcome home” he smirked as he licked his lips, looking you dead in the eyes.

“Minho, you fucking brat” you growled at him, leaning against the doorframe with your shoulder.

“You s-should have been here earlier, you’re stupid” he huffed as he continued jerking off, not giving a shit about your predatory gaze that was lingering on his dripping cock. 

You stomped over to the boy, grabbing him by the neck before you inched closer to his ear, feeling your warm breath against the shell. 

“I’m gonna punish you so hard babyboy, you won’t even remember your name after I’m done with you.” you groaned, wanting to induce fear in his fragile body.

Minho pushed your hand away, whimpering as he was nearing his release for what seemed like the second time, judging from the pillow next to him that was covered in cum. You looked at him with displeased hooded eyes, refusing to believe that he was being so defiant. Minho bit his crimson bottom lip as he threw his head back in pleasure, the cat ears falling off. 

Entangling your fingers through his brown hair, you harshly yanked him towards you which earned a yelp from his precious lips, his both hands now on top of your. A string of whimpers and small apologies rolled off his tongue as his eyes were tightly shut, feeling the pain shoot down from his roots. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I promise I won’t do it again, pleas- aghh,,” 

“You don’t seem sorry, babyboy. I think you need to show you where you belong, don’t you agree?” You smirked as you talked, looking at the boy that was on his knees, mewling in pain. 

You let go off of his hair with a push, the poor boy falling on his butt against the soft bed, shoulder hitting the wall. Kneeling down infront of a white drawer you retrieved a light pink leash, licking the inside of your cheek as you neared the fearful boy. 

“But I’ve been good y/n!” he hides his head in the pillow sitting beside him, avoiding to look at you in order to run away from the leash you were holding out. To his disappointment he didn’t succeed, your hands wrapping around his neck as you struggled to get the leash on him, Minho wriggling and sulking as you pulled the leash to make him look at you. 

“See, that wasn’t so difficult babyboy!” you smiled in faux consideration as you stroked his heated cheek. His brown orbs looked up at you as you admired his beauty. 

“Now ride that pillow, babyboy”. 

You pointed at it with your chin, looking at it before looking at Minho up and down. He crossed his arms, challenging your patience. You’ve had enough. Like a little puppy, you tied the boy to the headboard with the leash, tying a sturdy knot to which he whimpered. 

“No please, I’m sorry” Minho pleaded before you shook your head, silencing the boy that no longer saw any meaning with being feisty. 

“Ride that pillow”

You voice was cold which sent shivers down Minho’s spine, it annoyed you how you had to repeat yourself just because your little pet wouldn’t listen. Minho straddled the pillow before slowly grinding against it, the friction making him quietly whimper, continuing from the orgasm he nearly approached moments ago. You simply observed him, not laying a finger on the poor boy to make him touch starved and begging for you. His sweet brown eyes met yours, searching for any ounce of compassion in your eyes that he could use to his disposal but was intimidated when your blank orbs didn’t contain what he was looking for.

“Faster” you groaned in a deep voice, standing with your feet wide apart and hands on your hips. His rock-hard dick rubbed against the soft material, his moans piercing your ears as they spilled like water from his mouth. The red tip glistened in the light as the poor boy was trying his hardest to not release in an instant, his doe eyes tightly shut as the leash moved subtly with his humping movements. 

“Don’t cum” you say with a stern tone, Minho’s arms shaking, holding onto the pillow for support as he quickened his pace, not wanting to annoy you further. His head hanged down, sweat beading on his temples as the bed shook lightly. Minho firmly grasped the pillow, his knuckles whitening as he was holding back every drop of cum from oozing out of him. You pulled on the leash that was still tied to the head board causing the poor boy to jerk forward.

“Faster or else you won’t be cumming at all”.

He nodded frantically at your words while staring you in the eyes with despair. Your hands let go of the leash and you stood back to see his quivering body chasing it’s release. 

“Look at you babyboy. Humping that pillow like a little mutt, are you really that desperate?” you tsked as you traced along his jawline with your fingertip, goosebumps erupting on his skin from your soft touch. 

His impending orgasm seemed to inch closer with you every word. Biting his bottom lip he felt the knot in his stomach tighten and before you could tell him one more word his hands were quivering as small cries echoed in the room. His hips bucked into the pillow unevenly one last time before he spilled his seed onto the pillow for the second time, the white ribbons of cum shooting further than just the fluffy pillow. 

You sighed as you undid the leash, the boy frozen on the pillow as his breath is heavy. Pulling the pink leash towards you grab him by the circle pendant attached onto the front of the leash as your foreheads touch. 

“I didn’t give you permission to cum”

[4dtk]

based on a lil discussion with me and @moonboohoo btw this is a little ooc since sukuna is a cat lol. enjoy!

[yuji is typing...]

oh my godddd you're ordering food? i want food too wtf

anyway. i hear u about your problem. why not just ask the first person you see when you get back home?

[(y/n) is typing...]

you want me to ask my cat??????

[yuji is typing...]

oh no not the cat, that feline is the devil himself im sure

the person delivering your food, ask them!!! maybe they'd be willing to give you a chance

[(y/n) is typing...]

hey!!!! :( dont be mean to sukuna :((

your maine coon curls up against you as you flop down on the couch with phone in hand, the other switching on the television with not much thought. your hand naturally strokes the cat's fur, jumping channels from one to the next in boredom as you wait for the delivery.

sukuna's purring carry on even when the doorbell is rung, accepting the food with a smile and careful hands. when you don't return, however, the cat perks up in curiosity, seeing the familiar twirl of your hair around your fingers as you engage in a conversation with the person at your door.

"so... is tomorrow okay?" you ask, tired of waiting for the perfect partner to come and sweep you off your feet. the other goes to answer, but sukuna interrupts before they can, hissing with the swishing of his bushy tail. it's as if he was a human himself, staring down at the delivery person despite the massive height difference.

"ah, s..sorry," you rush to place the food down, picking up the majestic cat into your arms to cradle him, "my cat's pretty aggressive to strangers."

"we could always reschedule it?" they say, shrugging their shoulders, "doesn't look like your cat wants me in the house if i were to come over tomorrow."

you smile apologetically, "'m sorry again."

they wave a hand, both in goodbye and dismissal of your apology for such a trivial thing.

the cat descends from your arms gracefully, walking off like he hadn't just cost you a future partner. as sukuna prances off, you roll your eyes at his dramatics, reaching for the food before finally settling down in front of the television again. at least now you had a purpose of going channel surfing.

it wasn't a very productive day, clocking out at an early 11pm to get ready for tomorrow. scrolling through social media was your favourite pastime, slotting in a bit of 'me' time before succumbing to sleep with sukuna snuggled up against your side. 

the next morning wasn't merciful; with its bright rays shining through the window and the annoying construction going on from across the street, you could almost feel your annoyance levels rising before you got the morning routine.

"she wanted to invite them into the house? thank god i swooped in before they could agree. what right do they have to hang with (y/n)?"

what's worse is there was murmuring just at the foot of your bed, the pacing of their footsteps deemed too loud by your groggy, grumpy self.

wait.

"who's there?!" your shout catches the attention of the male, hand pointing at the owner of the noisy-ass footsteps with fear.

his messy pink hair was enough to catch your attention, but the tattoos littered across his arms and face was enough to make you gasp. you keep your mouth shut when he looks you over with red eyes, meeting yours with a tilt of his head. it's a sukuna habit, even when he's a human.

"who... are you?"

"seriously?" he asks unimpressed, crossing his arms over his exposed chest.

"sukuna!" you jolt in surprise at your missing cat, "sukuna?"

there's genuine concern and confusion when you repeat his name for the third time, coming to terms that he might really be in front of you.

"s...ukuna?" you whisper in caution, inching towards him as he keeps his eyebrow raised at your clueless state. tracing your hand across his carefully drawn tattoos was the first thing you did before moving on to his unkempt pink hair and mouth, where he still possessed his canine teeth.

he recoils as part of instinct, an uncharacteristic blush appearing on his face.

you overlook his behaviour but instead groan, falling back into the bed behind you in panic from the situation you've just encountered. your head comes up to gaze at the other, frustrated that he hasn't gone away after slapping your face, blinking your eyes or even falling off the bed.

"fuck. so you're real then."

"tch, then what am i? am i not matter, a material that constitutes the observable universe and, together with energy, forms the basis of all objective phenomena?"

you blow a raspberry, "did you get that from my science notes? god, whatever, let's get you some clothes."

luckily, with your wide array of oversized shirts, you were able to dress him decently. despite your confusion, you still were very interested to know how he came to be in your small apartment. with a skilled hand, you brew some coffee for the both of you, handing him a steaming hot cup after a few minutes.

"i change every night," sukuna says nonchalantly, immediately spitting out the bitter drink in repulsion.

he makes a disgusted face, “what the fuck is this?”

you deadpan, "really? all over my floor?"

getting up, your hands reach for the paper towels to clean up the mess that your cat-turned-human made, cringing at the way the paper towel turns brown with the immediate soak-up.

“but this is the first time i’ve struggled to change back. i’m not sure how i do it normally, but jeez, drinking your goddamn coffee makes me wish i was a cat again.”

with each passing minute, he gets on your nerves and by now, he’s shoved the drink back to you. standing up, he stretches his muscles like how he usually does in the mornings, allowing for every part of his toned body to show itself.

there goes the annoyance...

"well, i can't say i'm not attracted either..." you mutter to yourself, gulping down the extra cup before placing them in the sink. the laptop you frequent makes its way onto your lap not so long later, bringing up a essay due in the next week. you decided to start early this time and made sure to pace yourself, trying to rule out the last minute rushes you always settled for.

an arm encircles around your waist, taking you by surprise when you let out a squeak. sukuna is nuzzling himself into your arm while you try to frantically delete the out-of-topic sentence that was making its way onto the word doc.

"what are you doing?"

"morning routine," he simply says, laying his tongue on you without any warning.

"oh god, sukuna, no!" you groan, pushing him away from his tight grip on you like he usually does when his body is propped against your chest. you've woken up too many times, struggling to breathe because of his weight.

he retreats reluctantly, really wishing he was a cat again as he grunts at your behaviour.

"have it your way," sukuna mumbles, his naturally grumpy self amplified by your rejection. you thought back to the times your maine coon normally sat beside you quietly, basking in the way your fingers typed on the keyboard.

what could be any different? plus, you'd have a reciprocation of your head pats.

there's a tug on the other's wrist, "you can lay. just no- no licking, okay?"

you almost scoff at the sukuna rolls his eyes, but his actions betray him anyways because he's laid down beside you, curling into your side as he places his head into your stomach.

the desktop's illumination shines brighter than the morning's rays, hypnotising sukuna into a slumber as you play with his hair.

you wouldn't have noticed the male if he hadn't introduced himself, but his brash personality matched your cat too closely, knowing you were the only one he'd show affection to despite the constant hissing and glares he sent to your friends.

a gentle grasp of his hand snaps you out of your thoughts, bringing back memories of the way he'll lay his paw on you, even during the first time where you met him in the animal shelter.

sukuna stays peaceful throughout his sleep, pink hair slowly becoming messier the more he cuddled into your person. he was content now, at least, as you read over the essay to correct any mistakes.

it lulls him in and out of consciousness, stuck between wanting to hear your tender voice and relishing being embraced in his sleep.

either way, he was positive he wanted to spend the rest of his cat (or human) life with you.

[burnedbyshoto]

mine

— Dabi didn’t want you in the slightest, but he’d be damned if anyone touched you without knowing that you belonged to him

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pairing: yandere!dabi x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, gorey (blood and puss), branding, yandere!dabi, semi-public sex, consented sex that turns into nonconish, spitting, heavy degradation, hardcore, sadist!dabi, mindbreak

word count: 5,588

a/n: im so terribly sorry for being so late with kinktober. my keyboard is super fucked up and I had a crazy busy weekend. please do not read this if you are easily offended it got a bit crazy lol ;-; well at least for what i typically write sorry

kinktober day 17 main kink: branding | kinktober masterlist

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Dabi didn’t care about you.

As you lay on the broken, dirty mattress (was this even a mattress?) that belonged to who knows who and was in this alleyway for who knows how long, there was no telling if you wouldn’t contract some form of an STD just by laying here in your filth. You wanted to sit up. You needed to get out of this sketchy alleyway just to continue the day. But your body hurts, everything hurts.

But the tears in your eyes had long dried out. The blood, cum, spit, puss, and drool on the bed making for an unpleasant, pitiful sight beneath and on you.

But I guess there was no reason for anyone to try and take you, even like that.

There was already a warning, a brand for anyone to fucking try and take you from the person who owned you. 

His name pulsed on every throbbing, bubbling white-hot pain on your body. His hands and name forever scarred and branded on your skin.

Dabi Dabi Dabi Dabi

It hurt.

It hurt so much.

But you couldn’t even cry as a black cat with piercing blue eyes landed on the mattress centimeters from your face. It was too much.

And in the middle of the alleyway, your eyes shut, and a painful unconscious slammed through you. Consciousness no longer your friend as you ended there, ass up, gaping, cum splattering hole available for everyone to see.

It didn’t matter, you clearly belonged to Dabi, and anyone who tried to take you would be consumed with a horrid fate.

.

..

.

Dabi’s mouth was pulled back into an angry, unamused snarl.

Typically speaking, the black-haired Frankenstein of a man could look more apathetic than the gods of apathy themselves, but if you bugged him just enough, things could sink under his skin faster than you could run. But today, he seemed to have every annoying thing happen to him event after event so that he was practically simmering with putrid anger.

It had started when you had left his room in the morning louder than he liked. You both had begun a sexual relationship of sorts. As much as the League was intent and focused on driving out the hero society, libidos and sexual needs could hardly be ignored. Especially as Dabi’s own libido grew with the more success he had, the closer he was to achieve his own goal. It made sense that he and you began this relationship. He wasn’t going to touch any of the guys in the group, not to mention the fact they were about as ugly as he was, so that meant he’d have to potentially stare down at a nasty face moaning and screaming. That wasn’t going to happen. Toga was a psycho bitch that Dabi could never understand, and with her stupid stabbing addiction, he wasn’t about to trust her near his genitals. 

You had been a late joiner in the group, some dumb, weak, quirkless little bitch. 

Dabi had no idea why Shigaraki had ever allowed you to join in the first place.

You added absolutely nothing to the group.

Being quirkless meant that you were a liability in any type of fight they got into because you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself. You threw a mean punch, and you had been training with Toga in the weird-ass fighting style of hers, but it was stupid, utterly pointless because as long as Dabi and others possessed the ability to kill you without needing you near, you were a walking target. 

You were also a terrible medic. Whenever the group would return with serious and not so serious injuries, you would scream, panic, and apply bandages terribly. It was so bad that Dabi would rather die of infection than have your blubbering form try to get anywhere near his cuts and burns. 

You were a horrible liar too. Couldn’t send you into any of the Pro Hero bases or UA in an attempt to gather more information to help the group's efforts. Toga had merely transformed into a random citizen without you knowing, and your ability to be suave was a joke.

But one day, Dabi figured out why exactly Shigaraki decided to let you in, why you were someone worth letting live. He had gone to the bar for a simple drink. His head throbbing due to the fight he had gotten into while recruiting for the League. But what he came to see in that bar was that you were in the bar with Shigaraki and Kurogiri.

He looked at you as you were on your knees on the barstool. Your breasts swelling over that stupid tanktop of yours, your dumb ass shaking like a damn dog as you talked excitedly to Shigaraki. That, for whatever reason, bugged Dabi.  The tinge of color on his stupid leader’s ears and cheeks also went noticed by Dabi, and suddenly as you grabbed onto Shigaraki’s shoulders, it all made perfect sense.

You were here to be made as a whore.

Dabi ended up leaving the bar without getting his drink after all that day.

But he had caught you skipping to your assigned room, and he blocked your way, his hand shoved into his pockets as you looked down at your wide eyes.

“So that’s the role you’ll play in the world of no heroes,” Dabi spoke, his lips pulling into a lazy smirk, warmth flooding his cold skin when your own face seemed twisted with confusion and worry.

“I’m not playing any role?” you speak slowly, obviously confused, but Dabi doesn’t dwell on the confusion in your eyes or the way you step backward away from him. He follows you, stalking your every move until you’re backed against the door of his room, your doe eyes large and practically screaming for help, which only seemed to excite Dabi. You wouldn’t be finding a hero in this organization. No, you either learned how to swim, drown, or take everyone down with you. 

“Oh, so you’re not playing any games here?” Dabi asks, his hand slamming against the door right by your head, his head tilting as he leans in close to your face. He can basically breathe the anxiety spilling from your veins, festering, and throbbing underneath your skin as you find yourself unable to speak. “You joined our little group knowing that Shigaraki wanted to fuck you? Use you as the willing whore that you are?”

The fear drained from your eyes, and anger blazed instead, and for some reason, that only made Dabi more excited. He pressed up closer to you, the hardness of his cock, unable to be ignored as he pressed his swelling length to your hip.

“I’m not here to be Shigaraki’s whore,” you growled, your lips pulled back into a fearsome growl, but to Dabi, knowing the stupid, weak quirkless bitch that you were, made you look like some angry dumb puppy. “I’ve been just as wronged by this world as you have. Just because I didn’t burn off all my skin to prove I don’t fit in doesn’t mean I don’t have scars too.”

Dabi laughed, the smell of heat rising from his skin as he couldn’t help but display his power, couldn’t help but to warn you just who was capable of the most immense damage.

“Burn me,” you snapped, your nose nearly brushing against his. “Prove my fucking point.”

Dabi let out a throaty hum, the feeling of your stomach shifting against his tented pants, only serving to arouse him more. 

“Trust me, pup, I don’t have all my skin burned off,” Dabi couldn’t help but ignore your own issues of being upset as his mouth crashed against yours.

That night, Dabi realized that maybe you did serve this group in two ways, albeit one was much, much more important than the other. 

One, the lesser important reason: you brought in a new demographic. A new viewpoint of people who had been hurt by heroes and civilians who looked to All Might like a god. Quirkless people, and people with quirks that practically made them worthless, were seen as inferior because they weren’t unique. They could never be like All Might. And for that, they were seen as less, a group that deserved to die and were discriminated against for reasons far beyond their control.

Two, the more important reason: you were Dabi’s fuckhole.

This sexually frustrated, anger-fueled sex the two of you had was more than ideal, really. Dabi loved to fuck you whenever he needed, whenever he wanted. He took you anywhere and everywhere he wanted. Each time he grew bolder and bolder until he was fucking you during a meeting, fucking you while you were in a car with everyone, making your way to the next destination. 

He could care less about your whining pleas to only fuck in a room where no one could see, couldn’t care if you thought the alleyway was dirty, and the scent of dead burning bodies made your head spin. You were a quirkless fuckhole, and you would do as he told.

But Dabi would never admit you were his.

No, he would not.

Not now, not ever.

But there was something stupidly irritating and annoying hearing barely useful members of the now Paranormal Liberation Front. Everyone was obsessed with you, the useless quirkless girl who was weak and needed protection. Everyone loved the way your tits bounced when you hopped around excitedly, loved the way your ass shook when you were sitting at a bar because, for whatever damn reason, you could never sit on your fucking ass.

So, that’s where we find Dabi. His mouth pulled back into an unamused, angry snarl as you talked with some nameless member that Dabi thought was better off dead than as some deadweight help. 

“You can’t expect y/l/n-chan to be so kind to you when you’re quite the asshole to her, Dabi,” Compress chided Dabi as he took a smooth, slow drink from his sake. “You pester her daily, and from what the rumors tell me, harass her often enough that I’m surprised she hasn’t taken your face off.”

“She’s too fucking weak for that shit,” Dabi snapped, his eyes narrowing when your hand placed itself on the nameless shits arm. “She can’t do shit; that’s why she’s acting like a shallow whore. She’ll let anyone fuck her as long as it means she gets protected.”

Compress raised his eyebrow, his face not letting anything on as he slowly placed his glass down.

“Y/l/n-chan sleeps around?”

Dabi actually felt the heat rising from his skin. He didn’t know if you were, and the thought of knowing that someone other than him was fucking your tight little pussy after he did irritates him much more than he’d like. 

“I don’t fucking know, you’re the one telling me about fucking rumors. You tell me.”

“From what I hear, she doesn’t give in to anyone, despite the obvious flirting,” Compress shrugged when Dabi’s eyes locked on him in bewildered disbelief. “Why do you care, Dabi? You’re typically so aloof and annoyingly stoic. What about y/l/n-chan makes you so temperamental?”

Dabi felt his spine stiffen at those words, the inquisitive yet entirely sharp words that gutted him from the inside out. Dabi didn’t care for you. He knew he didn’t. If you dropped dead in the middle of the floor in three seconds, he knew he wouldn’t panic. He wouldn’t mourn you. He might mourn the warm body he fucked whenever he needed, sure, but not you, never just you. 

He blinked.

He didn’t need to like you for you to be his.

Heroes were what was wrong with society, but relationships were also what was wrong with people. The twisting desire for equality and equity between two different people when it should never be as such, to begin with. Dabi was powerful. You were quirkless and weak. Dabi held power, he was the one who should be deciding what you should be able to do, what you can’t, and something in the depths of his mind finally clicked. 

You were his.

You belonged to Dabi.

You were nothing without Dabi.

The laugh that poured from your lips and the man next to you, that Dabi swore he could hear right now, suddenly made sense as to why it bothered him. You don’t entertain or try to use things that don’t belong to you. You use only what is yours, and anyone who tries to touch what belongs to you is allowed capital punishment.

But Dabi, against better judgment, wasn’t a trigger happy idiot.

No, he was aware of the things idiots needed to see in order to back off. To understand that some things were there for free, and other things were already taken. He laughed, grabbing the rest of Compress’s sake and downing it before slamming it onto the table and standing up, ignoring the angered curses from Compress as he stalked toward you.

There weren’t many things in life that made Dabi lose control of his emotions, but knowing that you were out in the open without a clear mark that you were his was slowly making its way on that list. 

“Let’s go,” Dabi says, his voice perfectly calm despite the heat blazing off his every muscle. His hand was wrapped around your wrist, gripping your skin tightly as he tugged you from the barstool.

It didn’t take much for you to fall off the stool, your stupid way of sitting on bar stools allowed significant imbalance, and Dabi knew that a sharp tug is all it took to have you stumbling off.

“I was talking with Trumpet!” you cried, unable to keep from stumbling after Dabi, your eyes focused on Trumpet.

“I was speaking with y/n, if you would allow us to finish our—” Trumpet also piped up, his hands reaching to button up his suit as he stood.

“Shut up,” Dabi spoke coldly, his eyes narrowing just slightly as he took in his gaze. 

With that, Dabi continued to walk away, dragging your protesting form behind him with every great stride he took. Dabi didn’t know where he was walking, only knowing that he was ignoring every question and angry demand that filtered out of your mouth like white noise. He took sharp turns, disappearing into the alleys that he knew all too well until he found the spot he was looking for.

You were panting heavily when you suddenly slammed into Dabi’s back, exhaustion already setting in your bones from the awkward run you had to maintain in order to keep up with Dabi. You weren’t an idiot; you knew that Dabi wanted to fuck the moment that he appeared behind you with a wave of hot air. But you hadn’t expected it to be while you were in the middle of a conversation with Trumpet; while he was an asshole, Dabi always let you finish your conversations before taking you to fuck. But not this time.

Which worried you. 

Both of you had fucked the entire night last night. Your body had been abused in a million exciting ways as Dabi unleashed his libido onto you, and you had kept up swimmingly. Typically, a fuckfest like that was enough to satisfy him for a few days, two days at least, so to have him back on you within twelve hours was a bit of a shock. 

The sun was still in the sky, after all.

“You really know how to piss me the fuck off, y/n,” Dabi spoke, his tone and words ice-cold despite the blazing heat of his body. “Why is it that you think you have the right to flounder yourself off like some common bitch?”

You freeze. Oh? Was he jealous?

You had no time to even open your mouth to ask, most likely having taken too long to answer his question because his hand flared with heat, and you couldn’t help the scream that ripped through your throat. Tearing your hand from Dabi, you looked down at your burnt, throbbing skin. Your eyes widened, pained tears in your eyes as Dabi turned around, his eyes blank, cold, lifeless. 

“I’m not sure if I ever made this clear before,” Dabi asked, stalking toward you, and you whimper, holding your tender wrist to your chest as you feel something make contact with the back of your calves. “I don’t care about you. If you were to disappear the next day and never return, I wouldn’t care. Maybe I’d miss your pretty little pussy, but other than that… nothing. But you need to understand something for as long as we’re together and for how long we’re apart: you’re mine, y/n, just mine.”

Your eyes are wide, terrified of the monster before you. This wasn’t the Dabi that fucked you every night before this, this was someone else, and sour acid hits the back of your throat. 

His lips are on you without hesitation. The biting coldness of his staples on his cheeks and chin burn against your skin, and his hot hands are against the cold skin of your waist, and you gasp loudly. His tongue invades your mouth immediately, and you whimper, feeling how much colder his tongue was in comparison to yours. But you know what it’s like to share a bed with Dabi, you know that he knows of your bodies every twitch and innate desires, and like a trained dog, you cave to him despite the painful tears dripping down your cheeks.

His kisses are much like his fire, hot, encompassing, all-consuming until there was nothing left except the smell and taste of ashes and smoke. You fell to his needs immediately, the hot, swollen throb in your wrist going ignored as you kissed him back, wanting to taste the smoke on his tongue. So as the heat of his body evaporated the tears off your cheeks, you caved into his kisses. 

Your wrist throbbed as your hands reached up and curled into his hair. 

But the biting possessiveness of his body was all too apparent to you as his teeth buried into your tongue and sucked on it harshly. You gasped, your body arching into his touch as you opened your closed eyes to peer into his piercing lifeless eyes. 

You moaned, body trembling with the wild desire to make him feel good, to make yourself feel good. But you fell, his teeth letting go of your tongue and his calloused, burnt hands pushing you onto the object beneath you. The mildewy mold scent of the mattress beneath you burned into your nose, somehow damp even though there had been no rain for weeks.

Dabi was on you immediately, his body between your legs, lips simmering against your mouth once more, and his hand on your throat. His staples scraped against your chin, the cold metal scratching into your skin until it hurt. You can’t recall the last time he put this horrible power on his grips, you felt your head beginning to spin with the slow, dizzying throb of losing all oxygen, but Dabi took no mind to your struggles; in fact, it seemed to be enjoying it.

“Come on, doll, kiss me back like you actually fucking mean it,” Dabi snapped, his hands burning even more against your throat, and the other made contact with your pants. Your clothes were burnt to singe, the smell of burning fabric had long been a scent you had been familiar with, but you couldn’t even gather the energy to cry about the clothes he just burnt off your body. “Stop acting like a little bitch,” he growls, obviously noticing your shift in character, “be a good doll, and do as you’re told.”

Despite the burning, stabbing feeling in your skin, and the way you couldn’t keep the silent tears from stopping you from doing as you were told. You kiss him back as you once had before, your jaw dropping and your tongue reaching to meet his. 

Dabi growled, clearly liking the suddenly positive response from you, and you trembled against his hold. But, soon, a new scent filled your nose, a unique scent that aligned with the painful burning of flesh.

“You see, I don’t like it when things that belong to me don’t do what I want. I especially hate having to share things that are mine. Don’t get cocky, sweet thing, you’re my precious doll, but I don’t give a single shit about you,” Dabi spat against your lips, his mouth speaking against yours, and his eyes staring straight into your eyes. 

Or they would have been should you not have been in such trifling, nauseating pain as Dabi’s hand burned against your skin. His quirk sizzled against your skin, creating a perfect brand of his hand on your throat, but the pain was immeasurable, horrifically painful as you wailed against his mouth.

“Let me go, let me go, let me go!” you screamed, your hands fisting and pathetically slamming against Dabi’s shoulders, pleading to be shown mercy.

But Dabi merely looked down at you with sadistic disinterest, relishing in the way the smell of your burning skin wafted into his nose until he let go. 

You tried to scream, tried to cry to whatever god may be looking down at you to come and save you, but you found you couldn’t. The burnt, pussing bubbles of infected flesh bubbling on your throat were tight on your sweat-slicked skin, and every small movement made it feel worse.

“There we go!” Dabi grins again, his eyes wild and almost demented as he flips you over so that your naked ass is hanging out in the air, able to be manipulated to his will. The tears in your eyes were still streaming down your face, intermixing with the blood and popped blisters on your skin as Dabi pressed you into a position that would make things easier for him to fuck you in. “I can’t fuck you when your cunt is buried in this box.”

You make a noise, a small noise that sends a powerful wave of nausea through you as Dabi separates your legs and curls his fingers within your slick cunt. 

“Glad to see that your little pussy is still wet as fuck,” Dabi groans, his fingers scissoring deep within you, stretching out your hole until you pathetically cries into the mildew scented mattress. Your body pulsated with a different stimulus; the pain in your throat still burned and was feeling itchy. The thud in your wrist hurt to move. But the pleasure of his fingers buried deep in your cunt made your eyes cross and your mouth pant in the overcoming sensation of your pussy being tended to.

“D-Dabi,” you manage to croak out, the tears running down your cheeks, once more intermixing with the thick blood and puss on the burn. Your voice was disgustingly hoarse, sounding akin to someone with smoker's lungs. “P-Please.”

“P-Please what?” Dabi mocked, his hips grinding against your exposed, pert ass. You could feel the hard cock in his pants, the shift in the fabric as he dropped his own pants and underwear to rut his piercing covered cock through your asscheeks. “Don’t think about me fucking your ass, you dirty fucking bitch, I’m not gonna do that weird shit.”

“N-No!” you whimper, your unburnt hand reaching behind you to grab onto the fabric of his coat that he refused to remove. Somehow, the movement made the throbbing flesh on your throat hurt more, and you swallowed the rising bile in your throat, gagging. “D-Dabi, f-fuck!”

“You want something better than my fingers?” he continued to question, uncaring that he knew exactly what you meant by those words. He was too focused on the way your walls were much tighter around his fingers right now, a vice trap that made him both eager and unwilling to shove his cock deep within your womb just yet. 

You mewl in frustration, your hips shifting against his intruding fingers, desperate to get the coldness of his pierced cock within you already. The pain was still very much alive, but the pleasurable build in your core was quickly outweighing your mood. 

“Oh, I get it,” Dabi sighs, his fingers exiting your throbbing, soaked cunt, both his hands slamming onto your ass, gripping the flesh with all the strength he had. “You want another fucking brand. You want the world to know who you fucking belong to, who fucking owns you until the day you die.”

The words send a panicked throb in your stomach, but before you could protest, before you could make note that this was not something you wanted, his fingers grew hot. Hotter and hotter, they grew until the blue of his flame felt like scorching white heat under your skin. Impossibly unbearable pain and branding scarred into your skin as you’re able to ignore the resulting pain in your throat to scream so loudly, your voice bounces off the alley walls multiple times. 

You can’t see what he did, but you can tell that his handprints are scarred to your ass; you can feel the puss-filled blisters rising from the skin as Dabi continues to massage the skin as if it was a bruise and not some second-degree burn. You sobbed into the mattress, your face buried into the ugly fabric, snot, and tears pooling onto the surface until you were choking on your spit and rising bile. 

Before you could even adjust to the pain, your mind pounding and reeling with the stinging, melting sensation on your ass, something thick, cold, and pierced rams into your throbbing cunt. Your body lurches forward with the initial thrust, your body, despite the pain, jumping from the shock of Dabi’s cock entering you.

It’s a familiar feeling, a feeling you loved, but you can’t focus on the sense of the many balled piercing gliding against your ruffled walls. The extra stimulus pointedly ignored because the pain in your ass was currently outweighing the pleasure he was giving you. But Dabi doesn't care. Why would he care? You’re his doll, and right now, he’s in heaven. Your cunt was blistering hot against his cock and oh so fucking tight. Dabi knew why he was so obsessed with you, and it started with that tight pussy of yours that could milk him dry without even trying. 

Dabi smiled, his hands raising off the branded handprints on your ass that were caked with already horribly forming scabs, blisters, pus, and blood. He felt giddy seeing your ass, covered with trembles and sweat, covered with his handprint. There was no denying you were his, no denying that you were here to serve the League as nothing except his fuck doll. No one would want you now that you had three of his handprints branded on you, and not even he could love someone with as ugly scars on your body.

So, with the stammering, choking cries that poured from your mouth for Dabi to stop because his rutting hips slamming against your newly branded ass was too much, Dabi let his head drop back, flooded with the sense of elation and euphoria. 

You were his.

Finally his.

Only his.

“It hurts!” you screamed, your hips shifting in your feeble attempt to escape his barbaric hold. “It hurts, Dabi!”

“If it hurts so much, why the fuck is your cunt so wet?” Dabi mocked, his hips slamming into you with deeper, faster strokes. “Why the fuck are you moving your hips like a desperate whore if it hurts?”

You howl in your pain crossed pleasure, the tears soaking your face, and the mattress seemingly flowing from you without end in sight. Much like the squelching slick in your cunt that grows louder and louder and the Jacob's ladder on his cock pressed further and further into your warm velvet walls. 

“Because it hurts!” you screech, your fingers tearing into the mattress, your body spasming from the overload of sensation. Your mind slips through the cracks of consciousness, and the pain begins to override your mind.

“Oi, oi, oi!” Dabi yells, his hand coming down to slap the blistering brand on your ass, completely waking you back up. “Don’t you dare knock out on me, doll. I might call you a doll, but I don’t want you to be some fucking dumbass ragdoll when you’re on my cock!”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, your eyes crossing and your vision spinning with the onslaught of sharp, stinging pain. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Mm,” Dabi hums, clearly pleased with your apology. “Seems like after so long, you’ve finally accepted your useless, pathetic, quirkless ass can’t do shit.”

So, his hands shift from your ass and move onto your hips, enjoying the way your skin is so soft, so easily bruisable beneath his hold. Your body seems to block out the pain he brings to your body and only accept the lulling pleasure of it all. The noises of his drilling cock into your sobbing cunt is loud, the sopping noises loud and soft in both your ears. Dabi has half a mind to wonder if anyone would walk by the alleyway, hear your desperate, pathetic noises and call the cops. 

He smiles lazily as his cock brushes against the wall of your cervix. Would he kill you in front of them all and then them? Maybe he would make you beg for his cock more in front of the officers and kill them all should they be aroused. He laughed as his cock slammed into your cervix, the squealing pleasure ripping from your throat at the feeling, and Dabi felt light.

Oh, yes, yes, yes.

How pathetic would that be?! Heroes getting aroused as he fucked such a poor girl in front of them! Of course, they’d have to be killed because that would be immoral of them, and not to mention that once anyone got a lustful eye on, you deserved to die.

You were his.

Only his. 

“Who does this pussy belong to?!” Dabi snaps, his hand grabbing your hair by the roots. “Who?”

“Dabi!” you laugh giddily, your face still streaming with tears, your lips bloody and bitten raw. “Dabi! Dabi! Dabi!”

Dabi growls in his satisfying pleasure, his hand throwing your head back onto the mattress, and his hands press onto your shoulders as he begins to thrust faster, harder, more power into your clenching tight cunt. His fingers tear into your skin, breaking the skin and watching the ruby red liquid ooze from your skin. 

That causes you to scream, your face twisted in slight pain, but Dabi presses onward. 

He has one last thing to do.

“Such a good fuck doll, don’t you think you deserve to be rewarded for being such a good fuck? For having such a sweet, tight pussy?” Dabi asks, his teeth biting against the nape of your neck as he continued to fuck you until fluids were beginning to seep from your cunt. “I’m going to make sure that everyone in the fucking world knows you belong to me, that you are my precious fucking doll and no one else's, okay?”

You keen loudly, your body shivering underneath his, and your head nodding, your tongue unable to produce any more words.

Dabi raised his finger, the tip blazing with a small, concentrated blue flame, and he makes contact with the skin on your back.

Dabi Dabi Dabi Dabi

His name is written repetitively on your back. The layers of skin on your back wholly burned off so that the twitching pink of your skin muscles are shown. No blood comes from there.

Dabi laughs, delighted with how fucking perfect you look with his name on your back, and you seemed to have flipped out of your broken mindset and shoved back into the horrors of the pain your body was experiencing. You gagged loudly, screaming and twitching with immense pain, but Dabi continues.

“You don’t mean shit to me, though, doll; I hope you know that!” Dabi snickers, his cock throbbing when he felt the familiar milking sensation of your cunt as you finally came around him. He continued to ram his cock into you, savagely uncaring of how you begged from him to stop, pathetically asked for him to heed. “You’re nothing more than my cumslut, nothing more than some stupid sex doll for me to use. And now you’re completely ruined! No one will want you with my brand all over you! No one will, and I sure as hell don’t want you forever!”

Your body stills under him, not quite limp as though you might pass out, but cold, frozen.

Dabi doesn’t care; he never has as he countries to hammer his cock within you, his tongue sweeping over his front teeth before spitting onto his branded name on your skin. You flinch greatly at the burning sensation, your eyes trying not to close with unconsciousness as ropes of his cum and seed spill into your cunt.

You lay there, unable to move, as Dabi stands up, quickly dressing and leaving you with a mere chuckle.

You were ruined forever, you suddenly realized as we make our way back to the beginning scene.

Cold, used, quirkless.

You had no purpose in life except to be Dabi’s whore, and even he didn’t want you.

The darkness consumed you in the worst of ways right then.

[obae-me]

“Can you write the brothers with an MC who has a big scary looking dog but is actually really friendly, and a small adorable cuddly cat but actually hates new people?”

So Tumblr screwed me over a small bit by deleting a draft of an ask someone gave me, even though it still says I have a draft, when I go back to my drafts they’re gone, so I had to rewrite it. I have learned my lesson for not keeping it saved on something else. So I hope the quality didn’t suffer for it.

Thank you to the person who sent me this request, I’m sorry I can’t remember your blog name! You were really very friendly so thank you, stay hydrated and take care of yourself! 💜

Lucifer

When MC came to the devildom with two animals in tow, he wasn’t ready for the new year of having to look after three new additions to the household. Especially after many many Henry incidents, and that one Satan fiasco with the cats. It took them months to clean up all that cat hair. However, much to Lucifer’s surprise, MC took care of them really well. He gained a new respect for MC’s ability to follow through with responsibilities.

He did find it amusing that MC had a huge dog following them around. Of course they weren’t as big as Cerberus or nearly as terrifying, but MC’s pet was fairly intimidating for a normal creature.

He’s a dog person for sure. He’ll bond with MC’s dog faster than anyone would expect. Some of it having to do with the fact that Lucifer was the only brother willing to approach them at first.

He wasn’t surprised that the pet was lovable. He could tell that there was no malice in their eyes even when they barked at him. If he felt the pet needed some behavioral lessons, he’d gladly help MC with it. He trained Cerberus with his own two hands after all. 

He’d give the dog many secret treats and pets while no one was looking.

The cat though, he’d stay away from that one. One attempt to pet it as a show good spirits and one pair of his favorite gloves were ruined.

Mammon

MC had pets? He was excited for em, especially since Lucifer had never let him have a pet, and since they were MC’s he could have all the benefits of a pet without having to take care of them!

He tried bonding with the cat first since the small thing looked nothing like their dog. They were so tiny it was hard to believe it wasn’t a kitten. They had the biggest eyes, eyes that just begged for love! But when Mammon tried to pick the cat up, they hissed, leaving a large scratch mark on his face as they dashed under MC’s bed. He found it best to leave the cat alone from now on.

MC’s dog scared him for a while, though he’d never admit it, he’d just avoid the pet whenever he saw them. One day in particular, when the dog spotted him, it ran after him at full speed, causing Mammon to shriek and sprint away with colorful language. He’s the fastest demon so he got away just fine, but he could still hear them clawing at the door.

On the search to find their dog, just to find them sulking at Mammon’s door, MC went inside to find him curled up in the backseat of one of his cars. They dragged him out and sat him on his bed and slowly introduced the two to each other. MC’s dog had just been chasing him because they wanted to play. Mammon knew that, for sure, totally.

He’ll make sure to give both pets plenty of toys to make sure he doesn’t become their next one. 

Levi

Pets that had fur instead of scales? And they weren’t named Henry? MC was a typical Normie. 

He’d appreciate both of them from a distance, the last thing he wants is hair on his figures and in his equipment. He shudders to remember when he cleaned out his keyboard after the Cat Incident.

He does love that MC has pets though, don’t get him wrong. He’ll reminisce about all the fond memories he had about all his Henrys. He and MC will share fun pet stories and gush over photos.

He’ll eventually allow MC to try to acquaint him with their pets, but he’s not sure how well it will go since he has too many bad memories of Cerberus chasing him, snarling at him, ruining an entire manga collection. And cats love fish, what if they get their claws on his precious Henry?! 

It surprisingly went okay, he enjoys now trying to get MC’s dog to do cool tricks that he’s seen in anime. As for the cat, Levi often finds them in his room, tail flicking as they closely watch and gently swat at the fish that swim by. He also tends to find them curled up on his warm consoles. There’s something comforting about having a little companion while he plays his games, something his fish can’t always give him. 

Satan

Cat?? MC has a cat?? Lucifer banned him from bringing cats into the house, so the fact that MC had one meant that he could pay attention to them all he wanted, and Lucifer couldn’t prevent him from doing so.

His brothers were idiots to try and immediately lay hands on the cat. He had read about feline behavior and knew that you let the cat decide to initiate contact if they’re particularly scared of people.

So he’d get the kitty used to him first, by going into MC’s room and making sure it was obvious he was friendly with the owner. And then he’d just sit there in silence and read for hours, making sure they were now used to his presence.

It took a few days of patience but then he finally watched in glee as the small cat padded over to him warily, smelling him and making sure he wasn’t dangerous. Satan slowly held his hand out, making sure that the cute thing nuzzled against his fingers first before he would gently scratch under their chin.

His other brothers now looked at him in awe as Satan now often had the cat in his lap while he read, while most of them couldn’t even get close.

He didn’t quite bond with the dog, but he did occasionally give the pup a pat on the head. 

Asmo

He’s not really a pet person, like, at all. Hair all over his clothes? Constantly smelling like an animal, and not in the way he’s usually used to? No thank you! He could’ve understood if it was a cute dog you could keep in a purse or an elegant cat that made the owner look like royalty, but they were neither.

But, much to even his own surprise, he came around to them. Enthusiastically so, even, much to the shock of the House of Lamentation. It started with just pictures of them. Cats and dogs do great on Devilgram and this could be a good opportunity to show people he has a secret side.

His profile skyrocketed, which was impressive since he’s already immensely popular. His beautiful face night near these cute creatures gets him even more likes than before.

Before MC knows it, somehow he has their dog trained to sit and pose for the camera. He’ll even buy special collars and cute little accessories for the pets, making sure they look super cute for all of their photo-shoots, not as much as he is but close enough.

If the cat ever scratches him he’ll ensure MC makes up for it by giving his wound a kiss.

Beel

Beel is a puppy himself, let’s be honest. MC finds it incredibly cute how alike they are. They’re both big, strong, and intimidating, but when you get to know both of them, they’re loyal, lovable, and precious. 

He gets along great with both of the animals. The cat would scratch him to heaven and back, but he didn’t budge, and sooner than later the kitty warmed up to him. They would oftentimes treat him like a climbing post, clawing their way up his body just to stand on his shoulders, but he didn’t mind. 

As for the dog, it started off by stalking Beel, playfully of course. It didn’t stop any of the brothers from having a mini heart attack, though, as they watched MC’s huge intimidating dog slowly making their way across the hall, haunches ready to strike. The dog could play-bite him, tug at his clothes, and jump on him all they wanted to, he was unbothered. He’d even share some of his food with them.

Beel and the dog would even play-wrestle, it was great for both of them as they would expel their energy and spend more time together. And of course MC would bring both of them plenty of treats for being good. 

Belphie

He doesn’t like dogs, they’re too loud and rambunctious. Not to mention high maintenance. He prefers cats given the chance, but even sometimes they’re still too much work. 

He did make an attempt to pet the cat, only for it to attack as soon as it got the chance. It left a big hole in his favorite pillowcase. He was offended. It was supposed to be friendly, cute, and cuddly, and yet it struck back and attacked him immediately. The irony was lost on him.

MC decided that they wanted the two to get along since they were sure they would be best buds given the chance. 

When Belphie went to go take a nice nap, MC brought their tiny kitty over to his slumbering body, placing them on top of him over his blanket. The cat was tense at first, but he was so warm and comfortable, they stretched out and curled up on him. When Belphie opened his eyes and saw the wide, irresistibly cute eyes staring back at him, he couldn’t move. He just went back to bed.

Now it’s a rare sight when the two aren’t together, taking naps near the fireplace, outside under the stars. He’ll never tell anyone how he now loves to fall asleep to the sound of the cat’s purring.   

[walter-boswell428]

Mission Recover

The Tower

“Alex?” Eliza Danvers asked, “Anything?”

“We are trying, mom, I swear we are trying?” Alex answered through gritted teeth.

“Alexandra Danvers,” Eliza said quietly, “I’m not upset with you, it’s the situation.”

“I know, mom,” Alex sighed, “we are all working on it.”

“I’m headed up to National City tomorrow, is there anything I can bring?” Eliza asked?

“No, but if I think of anything, I’ll let you know,” Alex relaxed, smiling. “Love you.”

“Love you too, honey,” Eliza smiled as well, “give Kelly a hug for me.”

Alex disconnected the call, placing her phone flat on the conference table and layed her head on the cool table top.

>>>

Forty-five minutes later she felt a hand rest on her shoulder and looked up into the weary eyes of Lena Luthor. “Kelly said your mom is coming tomorrow?”

“Yeah, she--she’s really worried, and I think she wants to help,” Alex explained, her voice hoarse and heavy with sleep.

“Does she have a place to stay?” Lena asked warmly, taking a seat in Kara’s chair, “I can put her up at my condo.”

Smiling, Alex patted Lena's hand, “she is going to stay at my place, I’m not using it right now.”

“You can’t keep sleeping here,” Lena pouted, “you need to get some real sleep.”

“I believe that would be the pot calling the kettle black, Ms. Luthor,” Kelly Olsen smiled tiredly as she entered the room. “You haven’t been home since you quit Luthor Corp.”

Alex blinked, surprised, “you quit?”

Lena hung her head, “I couldn’t work with him anymore, not after--not after what he did.” Her eyes lifted when she felt Alex squeeze her hand, “I couldn’t go home. Too many bad memories.”

Alex squeezed harder, “I understand. Hey, you want to--you want the key to Kara’s place?”

Lena’s eyes bulged, and she quickly shook her head, “no, no, no…” She turned and quickly walked away, heading towards her lab.

“She still blaming herself?” Alex asked as she looked to Kelly, her tone calm and relaxed. “She’s part of the team, none of us hold her responsible for what her brother did.”

“She’s--she’s complicated, Alex,” Kelly turned and looked at the door, a small frown forming on her face, “and she’s scared that she and Kara are going to be…”

“Broken? Again?” Alex spoke quietly as she laced her fingers into Kelly’s. “We really need to find Kara, before we all fall apart. Especially her girlfriend there.”

“Don’t say that out loud to her, she’s so brittle right now, it won’t take much for her to break, and Kara is her breaking point,” Kelly squeezed Alex’s fingers. “All her fears, hopes and dreams are about Kara.”

>>>

Lena’s Lab

Lena’s fingers flew over the keyboard, checking readings and double checking everything again. “Dammit, Kara!” she swore, “where are you?” Her fist slammed down on the panel.

“Lena?” Nia asked as she opened the door. “Are you okay?”

Lena took a deep breath, and rubbed her hands together before turning to face the young hero. “Sorry Nia, I’m frustrated.”

A nervous laugh escaped the younger woman’s lips, “that could be because you are taking all of this...” The Naltorian swept her arms around, “you are blaming yourself for everything.”

“Kara is lost, because I didn’t outsmart Lex! We are working alone because I am here and the other heroes don’t want to work with me!” Tears started to stream down Lena’s cheeks, “I have never been strong enough. I am here now, because I wasn’t strong enough to save her.”

“Lena, Kara doesn’t blame you. She never did,” Nia whispered.

Lena collapsed to her knees, ‘n-n-not Kara, I failed her, I-I-I failed my mother.” She raised her head and screamed.

Nia rushed to Lena, arms outstretched, wrapping them tightly around the woman, “I’m sorry, I am so sorry. Shhh, it’s okay.” Nia crouched down, taking Lena with her. Nia leaned against the desk, still holding on as Lena cried. In a soft whisper she started to sing, a Naltorian lullaby her mother had taught her.

The exhausted woman in her arms lowered herself slowly, sliding beside Nia and resting her head on her shoulder. “I’m so tired, so tired.”

Nia smiled, slowly weaving her power into the words as she sang. It had the desired effect, and Lena’s eyes slowly started to close, and her breathing eventually evened out. Within a few minutes, she stretched and slid her head down onto Nia’s crossed legs.

A few minutes later, Kelly and Alex entered the lab and found the two women sleeping on the floor.

“I know it looks uncomfortable, but maybe?” Kelly shrugged towards the two women.

Alex nodded, surrendering, and she and Kelly made their way over to the sleeping pair, joining them and dozing off quickly.

>>>

At Luthor Corp

Lex Luthor looked out over the city from his office, smiling as he looked into the sky. His computer beeped and he turned, talking to himself, “the Girl of Steel, waking up again.” He waved his hand and a hologram of the Phantom Zone appeared in space at eye level, a red dot marking the location of Kara Zor-El.

>>>

The Phantom Zone

Kara stirred slowly, moving stiffly as she stood up. She shivered as she approached the cave entrance pulling her cape around her shoulders. It was the first time she had slept without nightmares in several days, and she couldn’t help but think that it was because her father was not around at the moment.

She watched through the hazy, half-dark skies as a figure approached. It was Zor-El and she found herself disappointed that he had once again found his way back to her. She huffed out a deep sigh and turned back into the cave.

As she took a seat against the back wall, she wondered what her friends and family were up to at the moment. ‘How long have I been gone? Have they given up? Have they moved on? Has Lena?’

“I have returned, inah,” Zor-El’s hollow voice called out from the entrance of the cave.

Kara rolled over and rested her head on her arm, pulling the cape tighter around her as she ignored the call, and fell back to sleep.

>>>

The Tower

As blue eyes slid closed, green and brown burst open at the same moment. “We need her DNA!” Lena and Alex yelled at the same time.

Kelly and Nia jumped as the two women screamed at each and stood up, running towards the bank of computers on the wall. Alex was pulling up the schematics for a scanner while Lena was entering in hypothetical information to start modeling the software. She slowed down for a moment then, staring at the screen, then turned to Alex, “where are we going to get Kara’s DNA?”

Alex turned to the whole group, a grin splitting her face, “mom.” Then she turned back to the computer and activated the program she was working on.

>>>

Alex’s Home

The next morning, Alex and Kelly met Eliza at the front door of the apartment. She peeked in and noticed a third person, and smiled brightly as she recognized the small blonde woman. After hugging Alex and Kelly, she stepped through the door and walked directly towards Cat Grant, “didn’t think I would be seeing you today.”

“Well I figured since my ‘source’ for all news involving Kara and Supergirl was going to be in National City, I should make an appearance, especially since no one in Kara’s group, other than you, Eliza, notified me that Kara would be working with me on a special story,” Cat smirked as she looked over Eliza’s shoulder at Alex and Kelly. “Now, would you two like to tell me about the secret you have been hiding all morning. I am assuming it has something to do with your mother’s arrival.”

Alex scanned Eliza’s neck, “mom, where is the necklace that Kara and I got you for mother’s day?”

Eliza looked at her daughter, confusion obvious on her face, and reached into the collar of her shirt, pulling the small gold chain and heart-shaped locket from her neck. “It’s right here, where I always wear it.” Alex’s hands came up, and she stopped as Eliza held up a single finger and unclasped the necklace with practiced ease and placed it in Alex's outstretched palm. “Want to tell me what this is all about?”

On the back, there were raised Kryptonian glyphs, and Alex smiled as she remembered Kara’s fingers fumbling with the gold as she shaped the locket with her hands. She found the small imperfection in the glyph and pressed lightly, causing the back of the heart to pop open with a resounding click. Her smile grew even larger when she saw the braid of hair, four each of hers and Kara’s hair, pulled from each other’s head just before Kara’s first Earth haircut. She reverently removed the hair and inspected the roots, noting that all four of the lighter colored hairs were all intact. “Yes, yes, yes!” she yelled as she slid the hairs back into the locket and yanked out her phone, dialing Lena. She only had to wait less than one ring, “we’ve got four complete hairs, will that work?”

The four women stared at the phone in shock at the sheer scream of joy from the other end.

>>>

Early the next morning, Lena looked at the screen, her vision blurry, and saw what she was looking for. Reaching out, she grasped Alex’s hand, “We did it! Oh my god, Alex! We--we found her!”

Bleary-eyed, Alex looked at the screen, and there they were, the lifesigns they were seeking, one Kryptonian signature. “You did it Lena, you found her, you found her,” Alex ran to the door, screaming into the hallway, “Lena did it, she found her, she found Kara!”

Rushing back into the lab, she grabbed Lena in a backbreaking hug, “you did it, we are going to get her back.”

Lena stiffened, “you are, you’re going to get her back, Alex.”

Alex stopped, and took a step back, taking Lena by the shoulders, “we--we are getting her back, Lena. All of us! Do you understand, ALL OF US!”

Alex watched as something dawned on Lena, she felt the younger woman relax, “We are, we are going to get her back, Alex. All of us--all of us together.”

“That’s the Lena Luthor I know, the woman I admire. The woman Kara lo--cares for,” Alex smiled. “We need to prepare, we need weapons, and a portal.”

“I believe I can help with the portal,” Brainy said as he entered the room, causing the two women to separate. “The top two floors of the tower are set up for interdimensional travel and flight,” Brainy smiled, “something J’onn failed to mention when we all decided to use this location as our headquarters.”

“Up until this point, we had no use for the technology, I apologize for keeping it a secret,” J’onn explained as he and Eliza joined them.

“You really found her, Alex? Lena?” Kelly called out as she and Nia ran into the room.

Alex reached over and grabbed Lena’s hand, “we did!”

Lena smiled, “yes we did.” She started to giggle, and it was suddenly contagious.

All the superfriends were laughing, when Cat Grant peeked in the door, shaking her head at the scene. “Can we go get her now?” the reporter asked, “Now?”

Nia froze for a moment, as blue mist swirled around her. She seemed to be staring into space, but quickly recovered, “we can’t go now, in the morning, we must go in the morning. And we have to be prepared for anything. Kara is in danger from two men, one from our dimension and one is a ghost.” The young hero shuddered, as her vision cleared.

“Alex, you and Lena, need to get some rest. Brainy you too. I’ll take care of the prep work, each of you make a list of what you need, and it will be ready.”

“I’m going too,” Eliza spoke up.

There was a resounding no from the room, except for Cat, who smirked, worried for the group of Superheroes who had just told Supergirl’s mother, no.

“Oh really, and you are all experts on Kryptonian physiology and the mental aspect of what, MY DAUGHTER, is going through?” Eliza snarled, “which one of you thinks you can stop me?”

“Mom? Be reasonable,” Alex swallowed, realizing her mistake as soon as the words left her mouth.

Eliza walked up to her daughter, “Alexandra Michelle Danvers?”

Alex felt the world slowdown as her mother grasped her wrist, spun Alex around and flipped her daughter onto her back. “Oof,” escaped from Alex’s lips and as she breathlessly rolled back to her stomach, taking Kelly’s hand and standing up as everyone applauded. “I--I guess you are--are going,” she grunted out.

“Yes, I guess she is,” Cat Grant laughed, “I on the other hand will stay behind and wait for this team to recover our girl.”

The team filed out, each heading to his or her own bedroom, still laughing as Alex limped down the hallway. Lena stopped, and headed back to the lab, stopping in front of Eliza, “I haven’t had time to--I didn’t set up--we don’t have sunlamps.”

“Lena,” Eliza said, “I created the sunlamps, I will make sure they are ready by morning, okay?”

Lena nodded, afraid to speak. She swallowed, and opened her mouth to speak, but no words would come out. She closed her mouth and stared at the floor, and suddenly found herself gathered into Eliza’s arms. Soft sobbing sounds escaped Lena’s mouth, “it’s my fault, this is all my…”

“Shh, hush, Lena,” Eliza cooed, “it’s not your fault, sweetheart.” She pressed the woman into her chest, holding her gently and letting her cry. “She won’t blame you either, she believes in you Lena, she cares for you.”

“I don’t deserve her, or any of you,” Lena stuttered, settling into Eliza’s arms.

Eliza smiled, “you are absolutely just as hopeless as Kara. She loves you, Lena”

“Eliza?” Lena looked shocked.

“You are her sun, you are her everything Lena, remember that, because she is going to need us, all of us when she comes home,” Eliza said with a smile. “Go, get some sleep so we can go rescue your girl.”

>>>

The Tower

Lena stood outside the door guarding the top two floors of the tower, her hand hovering over the handle, self doubt crushing down on her shoulders. She didn’t hear the approaching steps as the rest of the Superfriends came up the hallway.

“Lena,” Alex smirked, “if you really want to go get Kara, you have to turn the handle.”

Alex watched a small smile find it’s way to Lena’s lips. Watched as Lena’s hand closed around the handle and turned, and listened as steely determination rang through Lena’s words, “let’s go.”

They all took their seats, each seemingly knowing where they should sit. At Lena’s station was a large button, obviously the one that would activate the transdimensional portal. J’onn and Eliza arrived a few minutes later taking their seats at the pilot’s station. Eliza looked over the controls, and pressed the launch button. “I wasn’t aware that you spoke Martian, Eliza?”

“I started practicing last night, I also speak French, German, Japanese and Kryptonese,” Eliza smiled. “Lena, would you be a dear, and activate the portal.”

Alex suddenly looked mortified, and Kelly felt her tense up, “what’s wrong, honey?”

“Mom speaks Kryptonese,” Alex said in a whisper, staring at the back of her mom’s head. “Kara and I used to talk to each other thinking that she and Jeremiah couldn’t understand.”

“Mother knows all, Alexandra,” Eliza said, peeking over her shoulder and winking.

Then the world broke, and the portal opened…

>>>

Luthor Corp

“Mr. Luthor,” the computer’s synthesized voice spoke through the speaker, “a portal has opened over National City. Based on your sister’s studies, the portal appears to be…”

“Shut up! Shut the hell up!” Lex growled. “Prepare my armor!”

Within minutes, Lex was suited up and launching himself towards the portal that Lena had created.

>>>

The Nightmares

Nia (A New Power Rises)

The bridge was dark, everyone was gone. Nia took a shaky breath, shivering in the cold blackness. She took another breath, then another. As her body relaxed, she tried to pull on her power. A blue glow started to emanate from her fingers, casting soft shadows throughout the dark bridge. One of the shadows came to life, walking towards her, wearing the face of her sister Maeve.

“You will fail, Nia Nal,” the shadow hissed, as it slid from shadow to shadow. “You carry the power of our mother with no knowledge of its use. You will fail your family…”

Nia tried to focus, to draw on more of her power, when out of the shadows walked Yvette's attacker, “keep trying Dreamer, you failed Yvette and it took everyone but you to find Supergirl,” the shadow’s words slid from it’s throat. “You fail, again and again…”

Nia started to raise her hands to her ears, when a final shadow appeared. “You aren’t worthy of the power Nia,” the words flowed from the mouth of the creature as its eyes opened and Nia realized she was seeing herself.

She dropped to her knees, a silent scream coming from her opened mouth. She pushed, her light slowly dimming, allowing the shadows closer and closer.

“Nia, Nia,” she heard a soft whisper in her ear, “you have always been a hero, it’s always been inside you…”. She heard the words in the voices of her family, and with each speaker her powers continued to grow, pushing against the shadows. Her eyes opened wide as Kara’s voice reached her ears, “you got this, little sister.”

With those words, a mighty roar spread through the darkness as a lioness made up of Nia’s light burst forward and destroyed the shadows.

Brainy (Form Own Destiny)

Sitting in his throne, Brainiac looked out over the destroyed planet that had once been Earth. With his enhanced powers, he could see the remains of the heroes of this petty planet, Guardian’s shield, Sentinel’s jacket, Martian Manhunter’s boots, Supergirl’s cape. Then he looked down into his hand, where he held Nia’s mask.

He sat staring at the mask for hours, running it between his fingers, relishing it weight, trying to remember the eyes that had been behind it.

“What have I become?” The words escaped his mouth in one breath.

“You have become that which you were always meant to be, offspring of Brainiac,” a shadow whispered, “you have become death, and the universe will be better for it.”

“This is not who I am?” Brainy panted, “I…”

“Ehehaha, you speak as if you can fight destiny,” the shadow laughed. “You started on this path as soon as you allied with the Earthling named Lex Luthor. He stained your soul, and now there is no turning back. You will kill them all.”

Brainy’s eyes got wide, tears started to fall, “no, I--I refuse to believe this fantasy.”

“You act as if you have a choice,” the voice whispered.

“All sentient creatures have a choice,” Brainy spoke with confidence, then felt an invisible hand take his own. “We make wrong choices. We use them to make us better, stronger…”

“IT IS YOUR DESTINY!” The voice screamed.

Gripping the hand tighter, Brainiac stood up, “logic does not dictate destiny. My friends…” the hand squeezed back, “my family forgave me, you are not by destiny.”

The lights came up, and Brainy found himself staring into the glowing eyes of Dreamer.

J’onn (Protect Your Family)

Green lidded eyes opened slowly. The Martian Manhunter shook his head, and looked around, trying to get his bearings. ‘DEO Headquarters?’ he thought to himself and attempted to move, but found himself unable to move.

Susan Vasquez and Alex walked into the room and the corner lit up showing Winn sitting at his computer. J’onn tried to speak, but no words would come. He couldn’t even move his head. Then from behind he heard booted feet approaching. He tried to turn, to fight whatever it was that had him trapped.

The first bullet struck Susan in the back of the head, the second hit Winn in the chest. The third and fourth hit Alex in the arm and then the leg, dropping her to the floor, screaming in pain and firing at her unseen enemies. The bullets passed right through him and J’onn realized it was him, he was the unseen killer.

Kara entered a moment later, shielding her sister with her body, as her heat vision fired through him over and over again.

A green round shot out, catching her in the chest, and J’onn started to breathe even harder, panic pushing him to move, but he couldn’t.

He blinked back angry tears, and felt himself starting to rise, to float away. He could see the enemy and it was Lex Luthor.

The balding man looked up at him and sneered, “running from another fight, J’onn.” Then he turned his attention back to Kara and Alex who looked up at him, fear in their eyes. Lex took a step forward, raising his arms, the noise of cycling rounds was deafening as he locked on J’onn’s earthbound daughters.

His scream gave the girls a moment but it wasn’t enough as Lex started to fire, his rounds getting closer and closer.

“It’s not real, it’s not real,” J’onn started to say to himself, “it’s not real,” He cringed in horror as the rounds got closer and closer. “IT’S NOT REAL!”

The lights came back…

Kelly (Guardian Shines)

The doors slid open and Kelly Olsen slipped in silently, moving from shadow to shadow watching and listening as an obviously controlled Lena and Eliza studied a caged phantom zone demon. As she slipped from one hiding spot, the creature spotted her and the woman froze in place.

“Kelly,” the creature hissed from the mouths of Eliza and Lena, “you should not have come here, Kelly Olsen.”

Kelly took a deep breath, getting her breathing under control, ‘this isn’t real, Nia warned us, Alex warned me, it’s all a nightmare.’

A familiar voice sounded in the woman’s ears, slurring slightly, like she had drunk one beer to many before bed time. Kelly turned towards the sound, her eyes opening wide with shock, as Alex approached, her eyes red, “Hello, Kelly.”

Stumbling back, Kelly stuttered, “what, Al--Alex?” She shifted away from the woman, holding her hands out to keep the thing that was her Alex at a distance. “Alex, this--this isn’t you, fight it, if anyone can, it’s you, honey.”

The creature began to hiss through Alex, Lena and Eliza’s mouths again, “why would we fight, we are stronger, physically and intellectually than you could ever hope to be.”

Kelly’s eyes closed tightly, ‘it’s not true, Alex would never say that.’ She opened her eyes back, and looked at the demon creature, “Alex, this isn’t something you would say. The Alex I know asked me to move in with her, she wears her fuzzy socks on a cold night in the winter. She shared her deepest secret with me and her deepest fears,” The Alex creature’s eyes flickered a moment and Kelly smiled softly, “remember the first time we met, at the hospital, how we butted heads? How we were so sure we were right and the other person was wrong? I knew then that I wanted a part of your life. All the ups and downs Alex, I can’t think of anyone else I would rather be with right now.”

Alex’s eyes closed, almost as if she was in pain, then they opened and Kelly smiled, relieved to see the brown eyes of her Alex. “Kelly, I--I didn’t mean any of that, I swear it wasn…”

Kelly smirked, “you sound just like Kara when you ramble.” Then she pressed their lips together and pulled Alex into a tight hug.

“He’s coming back, Kelly, you need to listen to Nia, let her help, trust her,” Alex said as she pulled away. “Save us, Kells. Save us…” Her eyes closed again and when they opened Kelly was once again staring into the blood red orbs of the demon.

“Nia?” Kelly gasped, backing away slowly.

“You can do this, Alex knows it and so do I,” she heard Nia’s voice whisper in her ear. “Be the Guardian your brother could never really become. Be the hero we all know you are…”

As the voice faded, Kelly saw a blue mist swirl around her, felt armor start to form on her frame. Looking down, she found herself wrapped in blue and gold, a helmet formed around her head and she watched with a smile as a gold shield appeared on her left arm.

The creature picked that moment to attack. Kelly leaped back, pressed off the wall and jumped into the air, spinning as she lifted the shield's cutting edge level with the demon’s neck. She heard it scream, landed in a crouch and turned, watching with satisfaction as it dissolved into mist.

“Good job, Guardian,” Nia said as she took Kelly’s hand and the darkness faded…

Eliza (A Mother’s Love)

Eliza stepped into the clearing, listening as Alex begged Kara to come back, to not die. Her heart clenched and she stopped. The sunlight in the plants started to move towards her adopted daughter then stopped as Snowbird swooped down from the sky and attacked Alex, driving her oldest child to the ground. The woman stopped, hovering over her girls. A growl rose in Eliza’s throat as she gathered herself up and moved out of the shadows, “get away from my girls, you bitch.”

She stopped as the creature looked up at her, red eyes, dead and uncaring staring at her. “You are weak, Eliza Danvers, not even worth my time.”

Through gritted teeth, “try me, I’ve faced nightmares worse than anything you can conjure up. Bring it on!”

The creature tilted its head away, ignoring Eliza completely and lowered itself over Alex and Kara again.

Eliza swung a tree limb at the creature's head, “I said get away from my girls!”

The creature recoiled and lost the shape it was holding, transforming into a phantom zone ghost. Eliza growled again, swinging once again at the monster’s head. She grunted as it connected with something solid and the creature howled in pain.

“Still think I’m not worth your time?” Eliza threatened.

The girls stirred and Eliza turned her head. The creature picked that moment and attacked, but Eliza was prepared and waited, raising the stick like a spear, watching in satisfaction as it impaled itself and began to dissolve into mist.

“Never doubt a mother’s love,” Eliza snarled as the light returned…

Alex (A Sister’s Bond)

Alex slowly opened her eyes and looked around. Her breath caught in her throat, as one thought came to her, ‘Kara’s apartment!’ She watched her sister’s dark shape, shooting her heat vision at the rack of clothes in the corner of the bedroom. Rushing forward, she grabbed a fire extinguisher, pulled the pin and put out the fire. Kara turned her back and strutted towards the window. “Kara?”

“Don’t even Alex,” Kara didn’t turn around, she just continued to talk, “jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”

Alex shook her head. She’d been here before. She looked around the room, at Kara’s black uniform. ‘Astra’s dead, Kara’s--she’s been exposed to--to Red Kryptonite,’ Alex’s brown eyes opened. She was reliving one of the worst nights of her life.

Kara opened the window, “how does it feel, Alex? How does it feel to be less?”

“I failed you Kara, I should have been with you, I should have protected you…” Alex cried out, interrupted.

The Kara creature turned around, now longer wearing the black, now she was beaten and bruised, “you have always failed me.”

Alex’s breath caught, it was the night Reign had beaten her. The coma, Kara’s heart stopping. “I…”

The creature stopped again, and Kara was lying in a forest clearing dying as Alex struggled to remember, to save her.

“Kara…” Alex’s breath caught, she was losing it, losing control.

Kara was trapped in the fortress, the kryptonite leaching into her system. “You always arrive too late, Alexandra Danvers.”

Now Kara was against a white wall, as kryptonite slowly killed her. She was fading away, disappearing into the phantom zone.

“NO!” Alex screamed, “I haven’t failed her, not like this. Show me the times she didn’t get hurt, show me the times I held her hand and supported her. Show me the times she held my hand and supported me. WE ARE SISTERS, we fight, we hurt each other and then we get up, wipe our hands and face the world. I will save her, she will save me, and together, WE WILL KICK YOUR ASS!” Alex shook with tears, took a deep breath and stepped forward, “you will not stop us from getting her back, so GET OUT OF MY HEAD!”

She fell to her knees as the darkness faded and Kelly wrapped her arms around her…

Lena (For Better or For Worse)

Lena could feel herself falling, plummeting through her own memories.

She was standing by the lake shore watching her mother’s hand sink beneath the surface.

She was standing in the hallway of a dark house, looking into the face of a woman who would never love her.

She sat alone in the cafeteria at the college, too young to understand why no one wanted to eat with her.

She was sitting alone in the courtroom, listening as Lex was sentenced.

She was always alone, until one bright light forced its way into her life.

“She’s Supergirl,” Lex said as she pulled the trigger.

Kara was standing before her then, her blue eyes hidden behind the red of the creature from the Phantom Zone, “she betrayed you, she doesn’t trust you, she is scared of you and you left her alone to suffer by your brother’s hand.”

Lena fell to her knees, a crushing sob rushing from her throat, “no.”

“It’s your fault Lena Luthor, all of it is your fault,” the creature said over and over again as it took the shape of all the Superfriends, Sam, Andrea, Lillian and Lex. Then it took Nia’s form and it’s red eyes shifted to purple.

“It wasn’t you Lena,” Nia spoke in a confident whisper, “she never doubted you, she never thought you failed her, she believes in you. We all do.”

Lena stood up, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, “Kara?”

The creature screamed as it took the shape of Kara Zor-El. Blue eyes peeked out through the fingers on its face.

“Kara?” Lena’s voice cracked, “we are coming, we are coming to get you.”

“Lena? Lena, you found me?” Kara responded, her eyes brightening and her voice sounding strong.

“We will be there soon, darling. Just hold on a little longer. We are all coming for you,” Lena promised, her green eyes shining.

“Lex is here, Lena. Don’t trust my father,” Kara warned, her blue eyes slowly fading and returning to red. “Be safe Lena, be careful my Zhao.” And then she was gone.

“You failed her again, Lena Luthor,” the creature growled, and floated forward. “I will end you now,”

Lena stepped forward, “do your worst?” She held her hands out, palms facing the creature, but she wasn’t alone. Nia was standing beside her holding her outstretched left hand. She felt a grip in her right and Alex was standing there. Then Brainy, Kelly, J’onn and Eliza stepped forward.

The creature emitted a low growl and continued to move forward, expecting the Superfriends to retreat. When they failed to do so, it stopped and screamed. But the team held its ground, raising weapons and hands, all their considerable power came to bear as they fired away. Dreamer’s energy captured the monster, wrapping it in unbreakable bands of dream energy. The rest continued to flay the creature with whatever weapons they were carrying, watching as it dissolved into mist and disappeared.

>>>The Rescue

The phantom closed in on Kara, forcing the hero to duck and roll towards the other side of the cave. She stood quickly and bumped into Zor-El forcing both of them into the wall. The phantom turned, and was rushing towards them.

Kara pushed her father to the side, shoving him away, as the ghost slammed her into the stone wall, the force of the blow caused her head to crack against the solid surface, which brought stars to the Girl of Steel's eyes. She slid down the wall, the small cavern spinning under her feet. She felt the stone slice through her uniform, hissing as it ripped into her back.

The creature reared back, slicing its claws towards Kara’s face. She ducked, dropping to her side, but in doing so she caught her arm on a rough outcropping, tearing a huge gash in her arm, and leaving a huge smear of blood on the wall.

Lex Luthor stepped behind and grabbed her by the arms, wrenching them up behind her back. “I should have just killed you back in the fortress, but I guess this way, I get you and your friends.” He lifted Kara over his head and tossed her through the opening of the cave.

Kara landed on her back, the pain lancing throughout her body. She rolled over and tried to crawl away, rising to her hands and knees.

Lex, the phantom and her father closed in on her, moving purposely out of the entrance and spreading out.

Kara backed against a large outcropping, pushing herself to her feet. The phantom creature closed in and Kara locked eyes with it, daring it to enter her head. The creature froze, it had never had a willing victim. The pause would be it’s last thought.

Kara looked up as a strange shaped ship blasted through a tear in the void above. Her eyes followed a strange device that plummeted from the sky, landing about fifteen feet away. Lex and her father were so busy watching the ship, they failed to notice how close the device landed and were completely unprepared when it went off…

Pure sunlight washed over Kara and she smiled as she watched Alex and Lena drop from the ship followed by someone else. She felt her cuts start to heal and her muscles stopped aching for the first time in what seemed like forever. She stood tall as Alex dropped in a crouch at her side, the Hand of the Soldier shaping itself into a spear of some sort. Her smile grew even larger as Lena landed, wrapped in some sort of alien armor with her arm wrapped around, Eliza? Kara’s brow crinkled as she shook her head. “Eliza?” She asked, confused.

“I’ll explain later, Kar,” Alex said as she scanned her sister, noting the rips and tears in her uniform, and the blood stains.

The four women turned to face their enemies as Lex spoke, “how nice that you brought the whole family, little sister.”

Lena swallowed, speechless that Lex was actually here, her breathing sped up and her eyes were wide. “Shut up Lex, Lena’s with us, and there is nothing you can say that will ever change that,” Alex growled, as Kara stepped forward and took Lena’s fingers in her palm.

Lena stood up straighter, “Activate!”

Kara looked on impressed as Lena was wrapped in a blue suit of armor, stepping in front of Kara and Eliza.

Alex stepped up beside Lena and the fight was on.

>>>

Zor-El’s eyes became bright red orbs as he focused on Kara and Eliza, his feet lifting off the ground as he floated forward.

“Kara!” Alex yelled, “keep mom safe, Lena and I will handle Lex.”

Kara immediately stepped in front of Eliza, as Lena and Alex shot forward to take on Lex.

“How about we take care of each other, honey?” Eliza asked, as she pulled a collapsible staff from her belt, pressed the button and smiled wickedly as it extended.

Kara dropped into a crouch, her body preparing for the onslaught. “We can do this, he can shapeshift and get into your head.”

“They already tried. They’ve got no power left over us, and you just need to believe in yourself and your family, okay Kara?” Eliza responded, her eyes never leaving the creature, as she started to spin the staff in her hands.

On the other side of the field, Lex fired a rocket at Lena, and watched in anger as Alex brought up her arm, as the Hand formed a shield, deflecting the missile back at him. “Learned that one from my girlfriend, Lex,” as she rolled out of the way.

Lena rolled her eyes inside her helmet, allowing the computer to aim at the Phantom Zone projector on Lex’s back. As the tone sounded, she launched four shots, four different rockets that zoomed towards Lex at high speed. He ducked each one and rolled up to take a shot.

“Missed,” Lex laughed.

“Did she?” Alex said as she came up in front of him and sliced through his missile launcher, watching in satisfaction as it bounced away.

Lex looked confused, then shocked as all four rockets crashed into his back, detonating and tearing the projector to shreds, along with a portion of his armor.

Zor-El shot towards Eliza and was caught by surprise as Kara fired beam after beam of her heat vision at him, burning portions of his robes away. As the last shot struck him in the chest, he veered away from Eliza and focused his attention on Kara.

Kara shot forward to meet him, catching his clawed hands as he brought them down towards her face. “Never underestimate them,” she said as she held the claws back.

“Never underestimate?” the creature asked.

The staff, charged with Nia’s dream energy, came down on the monster’s head, slicing through it and turning it to ash.

“Never underestimate my family,” Kara smiled, then fell to her knees as her energy gave out. Eliza caught her and both women watched as Lex was surrounded by Alex and Lena.

Lex growled, swinging his fist, first at Alex and then at Lena. “I’m going to kill you all, do you understand, all of you.”

Lena placed a kick at the ankle of his suit, listening to the sound of crushed metal, as the boot shattered around Lex’s foot.

The Hand of the Shoulder continued to change in Alex’s skilled hand, removing power supplies with a knife’s edge and blasting away energy cores and other important components one after another.

Lex’s forward momentum stopped as his suit froze, and the maniac found himself trapped as Kara and Eliza joined his sister and Alex. He continued to spit insult after insult at each of the women, until Eliza took a deep breath and walked up to him, reared back and punched him in the nose.

Lex’s head lolled in his suit, his breathing sounding haggard through his broken nose.

An exhausted Kara looked up at the three women, “can--can we go home now?”

All three women smiled at the hero and shook their heads, leading her to the slowly descending ship.

>>>

Reunions

As the group entered the ship, they were approached by the rest of the team. Lena, still suffering from self doubt, broke off and headed towards her station. Eliza watched her go, her eyes full of concern.

Kara was barely holding herself up right, but at the sight of her friends, she opened her arms.

Brainy was the first to reach her, tears flowing freely down his cheeks as he wrapped his arms tightly around the Kryptonian. “I missed you, Kara.”

Smiling into his shoulder, Kara whispered, “Me too, Brainy.”

Kelly was next, gently pulling Kara forward, “I took care of her for you.”

“You took care of her for both of us, Kelly. Are you mad?” Kara asked softly.

“Mad about you being Supergirl? No. Mad that you got yourself into this, a little,” she smiled. They worked their way apart, “It’s good to have you back, Kara.” She leaned in and placed a light kiss on Kara’s forehead, “love you, Supergirl.”

J’onn came forward next, and everything he needed to say was conveyed in strong protective arms as they wrapped themselves around the woman he thought of as his own child. Tears fell from his eyes as he kissed the top of her head.

Nia stopped a step away, opening her mouth to speak, tears streaming down her cheeks. Kara stared back, smiling slightly, “come here, little sister.”

Nia crumbled into Kara’s arms, heaving sobs sounding from her throat, “it was you, you came to me.”

“You called, I came,” Kara said into the top of Nia’s head. Her lips brushed the other woman’s temple, “whenever you need me, I’ll be there for you.”

The hug could have lasted hours, when in reality it was just a few minutes. Then it was Eliza’s turn and tears flowed from both women. The older woman crushed the hero to her chest, pouring as much love into the hug as was possible in the moments they had.

Sniffling, Kara looked up into Eliza’s eyes and in that moment, she thanked Rao for the family she had found when she came to Earth.

Alex approached the two women next, wrapping her arms around them both, feeling her sister snuggle closer to her as Eliza pulled away, giving her daughters a moment of their own. The sister’s collapsed to their knees, refusing to let go of one another. Alex peppered Kara’s head with kisses, “she did it Kara. Lena found you. Everything you said about her was right.”

“I get to be right occasionally,” Kara smiled through her tears. “Thank you so much for not giving up on me, for coming after me, for being my big sister.”

“Always,” Alex smiled, her tears streaming down her cheeks as Kara gripped her harder.

>>>

And Then There Were Two

Kara stood up from her knees and made her way towards the striking brunette sitting at the control panel on the far side of the bridge. Unshed tears were filling Lena’s eyes as she focused on the blue eyes that were moving towards her.

Kara finally reached Lena, her breathing and heartbeat loud in her ears.

Lena stood, her hands folded in front of her, fingers twisting, her lower lip grasped tightly between her teeth.

“Hey you,” Kara whispered. “Thank you.”

Words spilled from Lena’s lips, “I’m so, so sorry. I should have known, I tried to find you, Lex is staying. I missed you so…”

Kara chuckled lightly, as tears ran down her cheeks, “Lena, I’m going to kiss you now, and if you will have me, I’m going to spend the rest of my life kissing you and saying thank you for saving me.”

Lena sucked in a breath, but once again words failed her and she simply nodded. Parched lips met hers and she snaked her arms around Kara’s neck, pulling her forward, and deepening the kiss. Kara smiled and sighed as Lena’s tongue flicked over her teeth and pushed its way deeper.

“I missed you, Kara,” Lena smiled as they broke apart.

“I missed you too, Zhao,” Kara said as she leaned in for a second kiss.

>>>

The Tower

The ship docked with the tower, and the crew disembarked, everyone heading towards the medical bay.

As Kara reached the doors, a huge grin came to her face when she noticed Cat and M’gann waiting for her to walk through...

[yeojaa]

Can I request more smut for A&A couple?? I love sexy jay and jinny RYFUIOOIDEWETYUKOJK

[ read angels & airwaves ]

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.  rating.  explicit.  tags.  gamer!jjk deserves his own warning.  but also cockwarming and a gross amount of love between these two.  wc. 1.5k.  beta reader.  @hobi-gif because she is the pb to my j.  author note.  this is probably less sexy and more soft, but i hope you enjoy and i’m sorry it’s so late! ✨ 

He’s playing Overwatch - unwinding after a long day, dressed down in sweats and little else - when his chair starts rolling back, pulled by an invisible hand.  (Luckily, he’s only in queue, not yet matched into a game.  It’s easy for him to leave, exit out of the waiting screen as he continues his journey away from the desk, releasing his hold on his mouse, letting his keyboard hand fall into his lap.)  Feigned surprise trips across his expression, a subtle widening of his eyes, the softest hm? slipping like sandman’s dust from his lips.

“Play with me,”  you say in that way of yours, deceivingly sweet, lilting like the chorus of his favourite song.  (He thinks that’s what you’d be if you were anything else, played over and over in his thoughts, quiet in the background of his everyday life.  A kind reminder of your love, of your giggles and that cheekiness you offer in spades.  A heartfelt melody in A minor.)

(Jungkook wants to write something for you - because of you - he realises.  Of course he does.)  

He echoes your words back, pairs it with a quirked brow and a sing-song laugh that makes his eyes crinkle, long grooves dug into the bridge of his nose.  Sunshine pours between his teeth, lights up his entire face.  “You wanna play?”

Your answer is a shake of your head, freeing tousled strands from the haphazard bun you wear - the one that goes up any time you’re half-asleep (or gaming or simply too lazy to do anything else) - too many pieces askew to be sophisticated.  (It’s cute still, one of his favourite looks on you.  Messy, sleep-addled, real.)  

“I want you to play.”  The way you enunciate, throw heavy meaning into your words has him curious, chin canting when you round the chair, step to the side and brush a delicate hand through his crown of curls.  You push velvet away from his face, tuck it neatly behind his ear and smile so prettily he swears his heart might leap out of his chest.  The same hand falls over his with meaning, your own eyes the size of saucers.  Were you trying to communicate as if you were psychic?  He thinks you must be when you stare for longer than you need to, mouth pulling and pursing adorably, a wavering wall against whatever you want to offer but won’t.

When he relents, it’s with his hand curled around your wrist and a gentle tug of you closer.  (Because he always wants you closer.)  “Let’s play then.”

It takes you no time at all to settle into his lap, legs dangling around the back of his gaming chair, arms locked around his neck.  He imagines it isn’t the most comfortable position in the world but, well, Jungkook’s not going to complain that his girlfriend wants to cuddle.  Can’t even fathom the thought when you’re so warm and your weight feels like some sort of top-tier blanket.

“Good?”  

You simply nod into the small of his neck, cheek cold against his shoulder.  Maybe you’re just tired.  You haven’t been sleeping well the last few nights, if you could even call it that.  They were more midday cat naps, laid up in his arms on his free days.   

(Don’t worry, you’d said.  He did, anyway.)

When he wins his next three games, he thinks you might be a lucky charm - his own personal blessing, all his good karma offered in the form of victory.  The headshots are clean, the flashbang-right-click combos flawless.  Gold damage is his the entire time;  he’s racking up gold medals left and right with you there with him.

(It’s almost as good as when you play together, your damage boost enabling him to obliterate the enemy without worry.  Granted, the Mercy on his team isn’t bad either - but she’s no you.  Not the girl that makes his heart pitter patter in his chest, play some silly crescendo that feels like a sugar high.)

But then he begins losing, missing shots that should be easy, sends them into the dark, strangely distracted.  He doesn’t realise by what until it’s too late and the next roll of your hips makes him whine, the sound tripping off his tongue in a whimper.  

“Angel.”  The word is practically choked out, broken despite being only two syllables.  You’re still snuggled into his chest, seemingly innocent, unaware of the tension that grows, turning bone to brimstone.  He’s half-worried he’s getting riled up over nothing - turned on by only your closeness - when he feels the damp of your teeth, the sharp edge tickling over muscle.  For what it is, it shouldn’t flood his stomach with heat, have electricity tracking up his spine as if struck by lightning.  “What’re you doing?”

“Play with me.”  You repeat the words into his hair, thread them between the midnight strands as you stamp a sweet, chaste kiss right below his ear.  He thinks he might be able to resist you - until you’re tugging lightly at one of the silver hoops that line his ear, laving your tongue over the sensitive spot that has him seeing stars.

He parrots the words back to you but it isn’t a question this time.  More a promise, tenderness turning his smile soft, needy, utterly in love.

“Let’s go to bed.”  Not because it’s late - though it is, half past two in the morning now - but because he wants to feel you wholly, watch you fall apart in the comfort of your bed.  No more distractions, just the two of you.  Just how he likes it. 

“No.”  That surprises him, throwing him off his axis.  He’s halfway to a pout when you press a kiss, steal his brattiness away with one sweep of your lemon-lined mouth.  “You keep playing.”

Oh.

The time you take to slide his sweats down - taking his boxers with them, fingers hooked into the black band that hugs his hips - should be criminal.  It’s as if you’re doing it on purpose, tugging the material down carefully, balanced above him by his hands on your waist.  

(He steals the softest touches while you’re there, thumbs grazing the undersides of your breasts, fingers laying themselves into the rungs of your ribs.)

When they’re halfway down his legs, he kicks them off, lets them gather in a pile somewhere by his feet.  Forgotten - because he’s got much more important matters to attend to.  “Your turn,”  he hums - almost begs - when you settle back against him, straddling him as you had before, still dressed in his favourite grey shirt and your plain black thong. 

“Nope.”  You’re smiling down at him, more devil than angel, smile so sinful he feels his cock twitch against his stomach, hard and leaking pre-cum from the tip.

“But—”

The turn of your head further dislodges strands, has shadow throwing your features into muted light.  That’s not what has his attention, though.  

It’s your hand dipping between you, curling light around his length.  Pad of your thumb massaging over his head, slicking arousal until the glide is easy.  With a gun to his head, Jungkook couldn’t help himself from moaning, a keening sound that tickles your cheek and has heat flooding his own.  (You’ll be the death of him, he swears.)  “Baby, please—”

“Play,”  you repeat. 

He does, rolling himself forward, finding his mouse and keyboard with trembling hands.  

It’s cruel, what you’re doing.  (It’s also everything he could ask for, offered by the hand of the girl he loves most.  Even through the haze of desire, there’s affection that paints him pink, lights him up like a Christmas tree.)

(All he wants to do is fill you, fuck you full until you’re coming apart, crying his name out in that breathy way that drives him wild.  Playing his favourite song again again again.)

But he’s a good boy for you - always is - so he says nothing as he queues once more, tries his damnedest not to make a sound when he feels the press of his cock against your cunt, the heat that engulfs him when you take him in one fluid motion.

It’s as if his brain short circuits, as if you’ve rewritten all the code that makes him who he is.  He chokes a sound - a whine, a laugh, a cry - when you sink fully into him, curl those arms back around his neck.  You’re absolutely perfect, wet and warm.  Split wide open by how deep he is, clit flush against his pelvis, velvet walls yielding to the fullness.  

Whether he wins or loses his next games, Jungkook doesn’t care.  He’s already got everything he could ask for. 

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Kiro’s Inspiration Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 灵感之约, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

An early birthday gift to the embodiment of sunshine, @moondusks​ :>

[ This date was released in CN on 7 December 2020 ]

A pleasantly warm and light breeze lifts the muslin curtains, bringing with it the fresh atmosphere of early winter.

Lemon yellow sunlight filters lazily through the trees, casting shadows on the window and carrying the scent of peppermint.

It’s an incomparably ordinary, and incomparably comfortable afternoon.

It’s very suitable for heading out and casting aside one’s cares - laying down on a grass patch, basking in the warm sunlight.

Or perhaps taking a stroll along the street, and sitting down in a cafe one has been longing to visit.

That’s what Kiro and I originally planned to do. 

However, the cruel reality is...

MC: Why does this proposal have to be done by next week ahhhh--

Kiro: Why can’t I write this song properly--

MC: Why do people need to be exploited by work--

Kiro: [sighs] And why are people constrained by inspiration--

Because of a sudden program, I have no choice but to work overtime.

And Kiro, who is about to record a new album, has remained dissatisfied towards the title track.

Due to the pressures of reality, we have to give up our original plans of having a fulfilling and happy date.

The both of us are working overtime at home.

Kiro: [groans] Farewell, my rosy weekend. Goodbye, my donuts and soup dumplings which have vanished into thin air.

MC: And brown sugar milk coffee, taro pies, and lava cakes...

Even though we sing the same tune, complaining dejectedly about not being able to go out, the both of us work non-stop on our tasks.

I can hear the crisp sound of Kiro tapping his pen rhythmically against the music stand. Occasionally, his soft humming can also be heard.

Seeing him working hard and struggling with himself, the corners of my lips lift upwards.

Even though we’re unable to head outside to do something interesting, it isn’t a bad thing to be together at home like this, channelling effort into our differing goals.

In some way, this should also count as a type of date.

I smile, adjusting my posture on the bean bag so that it’s more comfortable for typing, then continue immersing myself in the battle against the program proposal.

-

The proposal I’m working on is extremely urgent, and has to be settled by next week. 

Not only that, but this sudden program has an importance accompanied by a non-proportional preparation timing.

And during such a period of high stress, the goddess of inspiration, who typically shows concern for me, has gone on a faraway vacation, and has  completely vanished.

I have trouble writing. When I completely lose my train of thought, I exchange helpless glances with the few words on the screen.

In the end, I give up and pause the hands which have been maltreating the keyboard, preparing to pour myself a glass of water, and attempt to change my mood.

Lifting my head, I subconsciously glance in Kiro’s direction.

The curtains separate the room from sunlight, casting Kiro in a faint shadow as he leans against the window while composing a song.

Busy writing the new song, he hasn’t had time to maintain the state of his hair. 

Finding stray hairs a hindrance as they block his vision, Kiro holds a rubber band in his mouth, combing his hair to the back, and ties it into a small ponytail.

Those azure eyes stare at the music score in concentration. They are as clear and bright as always, but lack the flash of light he usually has when inspiration strikes.

Reference materials and abandoned drafts are scattered all over, which seem to isolate him on a higher platform which I’m unable to reach.

Completely engrossed in creating his work, even his languid sitting posture exudes a cold and lonely feeling for some reason.

For a moment, I feel slightly dazed.

Kiro: Let me guess. Is Miss Chips lacking inspiration, and having trouble writing the proposal?

Kiro suddenly removes his earplugs, turning his head to look at me. 

He shows me a brilliant smile, and the room is once again filled with sunlight.

MC: How did you know? 

He stands up as well, stretching himself, turning back into the him that I’m most familiar with.

It’s as though the him of just a few seconds ago was simply an illusion surfacing from work-induced stress.

Kiro: Hmm... since just now, the sound of your keyboard has been intermittent, unlike how smooth it usually is.

While he speaks, Kiro walks to the snack cabinet and rifles through it carefully, as though he’s a small squirrel searching for a pine cone from the hole of a tree in winter.

Kiro: So I thought - Miss Chips is probably just like me, entering a bottleneck at work.

He splits the low-fat and sugar-free healthy snack into half, placing it into my hand.

Kiro: A little reward for the hardworking you. Now, do you feel more motivated?

MC: It sounds quite embarrassing... but I don’t think I can work any harder.

I munch on the snack which gives me absolutely no happiness, saying this with a sullen expression.

MC: The presentation is next week, but I still have no idea how to go about writing the proposal. Right now, I just want to turn into an ostrich and curl up into a ball, avoiding the presentation meeting in a few days... and also avoiding my unmotivated self.

I turn the laptop towards him, letting him see the lonely and piteous 235 words in the document.

MC: I even want to knock on my brain forcefully, checking to see if new ideas will appear.

Kiro: Hmm... I see...

Kiro curls his finger, tapping it gently against my forehead. He leans closer to my ear and asks a question.

Kiro: Nice to meet you, Miss Chips’ inspiration. May I know if you’re at home?

Following his action, I close my eyes and sense it carefully.

After a short silence, I furrow my brows and lift my head, looking at him bitterly.

MC: Hello, the user you’re calling is not in service...

Kiro reaches out to rub the area between my eyebrows, smoothening out the creases on my face.

After ensuring that I’m no longer a “bun”, he sighs, laying down next to me.

[Note] Chinese buns (包子 - “bao zi”)  look like this i.e. they look like wrinkles:

Kiro: [sighs] Actually, I’m the same as you. There’s a song I especially wish to write, and I really like the concept and composition. I want to try writing a song on understanding and interpreting the theme of “love” from my own perspective.

He pauses, lifting his fringe with a wry smile. After give it a forceful rub, he causes his originally tidy hairstyle to become fuzzy.

Kiro: But no matter how I change it, I’m not satisfied. I keep feeling as though something is missing from the music. There’s no soul.

I untie the string, using a hand to smoothen his hair, helping him tie it up properly again.

MC: Whether it’s “My Treasure” or the song we wrote together last Christmas, aren’t they very incredible? They’re tender and sweet - it’s as though they can be sung into the hearts of every listener, enabling them to recollect the best memories.

Kiro: That won’t do.

Kiro flips over and sits up, his eyes serious.

Kiro: Those songs write about us. They write about you. I have several thousand ways to write about how adorable you are, but I don’t know which timbre I should use to face myself.

Not realising how potent his words are in causing one to blush, Kiro sighs once again after speaking, laying back down.

Kiro: [sighs] Looks like this time, we’ve both chosen subjects which are very difficult for us.

-

Kiro: Since we’ve both sunk into a major crisis--

Kiro: Want to try Kiro’s special, secret recipe and see if it can sort out our thinking?

Kiro shoots me a wink.

MC: Sure. Do I need to do anything?

Kiro: At this stage, all you have to do is sit here.

While Kiro speaks, he picks up the abandoned drafts he had casually thrown on the floor earlier, using them to enclose us within a square frame.

Kiro: This is the thinking box that we’re trying to escape from.

He sets down the final sheet of paper, completing this “box”, his tone light.

Kiro: Right now, we’re both locked in it.

MC: In that case, will the superhero help me break this box, so we can have a breakthrough together?

Kiro: Nope. 

Kiro steps out of the square frame made out of drafts, reaching out to seize Cello, who is sleeping soundly on the cat climbing shelf. Then, he places it in my arms.

Cello: Meow?

Kiro nods in satisfaction, then jogs over to the kitchen, bringing over some fruits.

Under the confused gaze of both me and Cello, he makes several trips in and out, bringing over soft cushions, comfortable blankets, and two cups of sugar-free hot chocolate.

Finally, Kiro shifts another bean bag over, and sits down beside me.

Kiro: I’m incredibly sorry to tell you that even a superhero can’t find a way to jump out of this box.

Somewhat pleased with himself, he takes me into his arms with one hand, letting me lean on him.

Kiro: But at the very least, I can keep you company in this box. And together, we can see what exactly in this box has left us so bewildered that we’re unable to get out even after such a long time. 

As he speaks, he tousles Cello’s fuzzy head, and it releases a comfortable meow.

Kiro: We can also decorate it a little, so the box is more comfortable. 

MC: Pfft...

I can’t help but laugh. The sense of dejectedness due to work earlier seems to be cleared up with his actions.

I reach out, pointing at a corner of the ceiling in a joking manner. 

MC: See that? Over there, there’s an MC who just can’t write a proposal, and she’s currently curled up and for waiting for mushrooms to sprout on her... I don’t know how to deal with it.

Kiro nods in understanding, pointing at a corner of the room.

Kiro: Ladies and gentlemen, look here. Here is a Kiro whose inspiration is stuck, and is currently drawing circles. 

MC: When you put it like that, it sounds pretty cute...

While he speaks, I more or less understand why Kiro went to such trouble to do this.

Kiro: That’s right. To me, whether it’s that ostrich-like MC, or that MC who has mushrooms growing on her, I want to hug all of them properly.

Kiro: And then tell her solemnly - that you’re already very amazing. Even if you don’t think you’re good enough, I still like you very much.

Kiro: Just as much as a little bear in winter liking the warm blue sky and green grass.

As he speaks, he tightens his grip on my hand, leaning his chin on top of my head.

Surrounding me are soft blankets and cushions. In my arms is a cat which has gone back to sleep.

Behind me, Kiro’s body temperature and scent encase me tenderly, making me feel so contented that I want to release a joyful sound together with Cello.

I close my eyes in happiness, nuzzling the crook of Kiro’s neck.

The things that were bothering me just a second ago, weighing me down with stress and emotions and leaving me unable to breathe, vanish like smoke and disperse like clouds.

It’s as though I’ve awakened from an incredibly long nightmare, discovering that sunlight is illuminating my surroundings, and that a cup of hot chocolate is waiting at the bedside.

MC: Kiro, why do you always know of such ingenious methods?

I lift my head to look at him, gazing at that blue colour which seeps into one’s heart, and the golden colour traced by sunlight.

Our foreheads lean against each other, and he smiles as he responds.

Kiro: You were the one who taught me these things. Why are you asking me instead?

MC: Me? 

Kiro: Last time, there were numerous occasions when I felt I couldn’t create works that were good enough, and I’d start to doubt myself. I’d lock myself in a corner, and start having internal fights with myself. 

Along with his words, it’s as though I see the Kiro I was barely acquainted with back then, and how he had endured several days and nights of work.

He had locked himself up in a room, helpless and frantic, not leaving any space for himself to breathe. 

Kiro: But during those times, you were always by my side. You told me that no matter how I was, you’d like me all the same. 

As he speaks, he taps on my laptop. 

Kiro: Actually, it’s the same today. 

Kiro: Don’t just look at how I appear now. Actually, I’m in a terrible state. 

Kiro: On one hand, I’m forcing myself to finish this work quickly. On the other hand, I’m so irritated and annoyed at myself, who lacks creativity. 

Kiro: There were many times when I wanted to just give up. 

Kiro: But...

He lifts a strand of my hair, twirling it around his fingertip. In the end, he pulls it to his lips, giving it a gentle kiss.

Kiro: Each time I heard your intermittent yet continuous typing sounds, I’d tell myself that next to me, you’re still working hard. 

Kiro: My Miss Chips is also feeling perplexed, but she’s still persevering in work. 

Kiro: So I told myself - how could I give up before you did?

Kiro: I must definitely persevere a little longer, so you see how dashing I am. 

Kiro relates this softly at my ear. His tone, which harbours a smile, sounds as though he’s depicting a treasure.

I indulge myself in his arms, greedily enjoying the present tranquility and warm atmosphere for a while longer.

I always feel that Kiro is a star whenever I go off course. He always illuminates the pathway, pointing the way forward for me. 

Actually, without even realising it, it’s because we’ve seen each others’ light that we could press on.

Encouraging each other, and feeling the way forward in the darkness. 

Until we break through the predicament together.

MC: Thank you, my superhero. I think I’ve regained the ability to fight a little more.

A soft chuckle brushes my ear. Then, a warm and gentle touch is planted on my lower jaw. 

Reminiscent of the whiskers of a kitten brushing past, spreading into a plain of sweetness.

Kiro: At your service anytime, my Miss Chips.

-

With that, Kiro and I sit in the “box” together, resuming our work. 

He lays on the ground, scribbling and drawing on the music sheet, while I hug the laptop to myself, working hard to squeeze out a proposal.

The typing sounds on the laptop remain intermittent as before, but no longer have the sense of repression and frustration from earlier.

With his presence, I actually manage to complete a draft of the proposal without realising it. 

It isn’t excellent, and there are many areas which require editing. Nevertheless, I’ve already tided over the most difficult period.

I move my neck and shoulders, then shift a little closer to Kiro.

Same as before, Kiro is wholly absorbed in the music sheet in his hands.

Even though I can’t tell his current progress, based on his expression and posture, he should be the same as me, breaking free from the lowest point of production.

I observe him quietly for a long time. In the end, my playfulness triumphs, and I think of pulling a tiny prank on him.

Lifting Kiro’s right hand, I burrow into his arms. 

MC: Surprise~

Probably not expecting me to do this, Kiro is left dumbfounded. However, he subconsciously props himself up and hugs me. 

Kiro: Miss Chips?

MC: A little reward for the hardworking musician.

Saying this, I tilt my head upwards and give him a light peck on the chin.

My sudden attack and the closing of distance between us enables me to successfully capture the faint redness on Kiro’s face.

Kiro: ...mm, how’s your proposal doing?

MC: At the moment, there are positive prospects.

Just like this, I wrap my arms around his neck, tousling his soft, golden coloured hair.

Because of my action, the ponytail is now in disarray.

I simply hook my fingers underneath Kiro’s rubber band, untying it, feeling the softness of his hair in between my fingers.

MC: How’s your song doing?

Kiro: At the moment, there are positive prospects.

He mimics my words, inserting one earplug into my ear.

A somewhat rough demo occupies my hearing.

I close my eyes, immersed in the music he has given to me. My fingers twirl the wire of the earpiece, tracing the rhythm.

Kiro: Although it isn’t done yet, the overall main key won’t change.

It’s a somewhat slow tune.

It's quiet, and even brings with it a heavy and melancholic melody. It’s reminiscent of a self-reflection, and also like a careful recount.

Kiro: Even though this tune is a little sombre, I still wrote it. 

Kiro: Because I know you’d definitely say that you like such songs too.

MC: Of course.

I say this with certainty. He smiles and lowers his head, the tips of our noses gently touching.

MC: Kiro, I came across a saying once.

MC: The process of writing a song is actually a writer’s conversation with himself.

MC: Although I don’t know what you said to yourself, if this melody is your answer, I like it very much.

Our drifting breaths channel a temperature slightly higher than the sunlight.

MC: Including these slightly heavy portions - I like them very much.

Saying this, I crinkle my eyes, humming along with the melody from the earpiece.

Kiro releases a sigh, hugging me tightly.

Kiro: [sighs] Why does this song become so sweet when you hum it? 

Before I can respond, Kiro continues. 

Kiro: [laughs] It must be because MC is a jar of honey.

He nods with force, seeming to be very satisfied with this answer. Then, it’s as though something occurs to him, and he plants a kiss on my forehead. 

Kiro: See? It’s very sweet.

MC: What...

I laugh, pretending to push at his chest.

MC: Looks like I have to stay a little further away from you next time, so you won’t become overweight.

Kiro: Hehe, it’s already too late! My feelings come in large portions, so it’s too late to say that.

Kiro presses me against the woollen blanket, embracing me with even more strength than before.

Kiro: Miss Chips has already been firmly held onto by me.

Kiro: I’ll leave a stamp.

While he says this, he nibbles the side of my neck half-jokingly, and half-declaratory.

He doesn’t use strength, but the electric-like sensation makes me forget how to breathe for a moment. 

The charmingly tepid air leaves my cheeks burning crimson.

Kiro’s hug is tight, yet very careful. It’s as though he’s embracing the one and only treasure in the entire world. 

MC: It’s not like I can really run away...

Not minding my soft mumbling, another kiss descends on the shell of my ear, as though seeking a confirmation.

His breaths lift up strands of stray hair near my ear. They brush against my earlobe, as scorching as his lips.

Kiro: MC, I’m actually timid and a little childish.

Kiro buries his head in my shoulder, speaking softly.

Kiro: When it comes to things I don’t like, I’ll always think of hiding them and locking them up. I won’t see them, and I won’t let other people see them.

Kiro: But if it’s you...

I secretly take a few deep breaths, cradling his face a little stiffly yet carefully, tilting my head upwards. 

MC: Thank you for trusting me.

Kiro: ...

Kiro’s eyes widen slightly, and his lips part and close. It’s as though he wants to say something, but returns to a blank.

At the end of a short silence, Kiro speaks solemnly. 

Kiro: I’ll definitely finish this song. 

He lowers his voice slightly. Even though this sentence is as light as a feather, I know that he’s as serious as making a vow. 

Kiro: I’ll definitely finish this song, and sing various versions of myself to you in the future.

Kiro: Even the parts which are heavier, and the parts I’m unwilling to face myself.

MC: Mm. I’ll definitely listen earnestly.

Following the trail of his spine, I stroke his back lightly, giving him my promise.

Kiro: I know. 

Kiro: It’s precisely because no matter what melody it is, you’ll definitely sing it into a song akin to honey.

Kiro: Which is why I have such courage. 

I no longer speak, only giving him a serious nod.

Both his breathing and heart beats can be heard, regular and steady.

Kiro: Since we’ve reached an agreement, should I leave another stamp?

Kiro’s voice is once again light-hearted, even carrying with it a twinge of slyness. 

MC: Wait! The most important thing now should be noting down the hard-earned inspiration before it goes away!

I grip several music sheets at the side, pressing them against his chest, attempting to flee from his arms.

MC: Get to work quickly!

Kiro: Why are you like this?

Kiro pouts, showing me his signature, puppy-eyed expression of dejection.

MC: I won’t be duped by your gaze again. I’m going to become a merciless supervisor, so you can finish your work before the deadline!

Seeing that his plan has been foiled, Kiro simply gives up “pretending”. With a smile, he grips my struggling wrist, pressing it to the side. 

MC: Where’s your professionalism? Could it...

A prolonged kiss seals up the words I haven’t spoken.

Kiro: It’s exactly because of my professionalism that I can say with certainty...

Kiro smiles, his sapphire-like eyes radiating an azure colour even more eye-catching than the clear skies of winter.

Perhaps he hasn’t realised it himself, but he looks at me with the most burning and clear gaze, sticking out the tip of his tongue. Like a dragonfly flitting across water, he wets his lower lip.

Kiro: Before my inspiration vanishes, there’s still time to act coquettishly with my favourite Miss Chips.

-

Phone calls: First // Second

[justatiredpotato]

Set Me Free | Chapter 1

Chapter List

Pairing: hybrid!Yoongi x human!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, coffee shop AU, hybrid AU

Word Count: Chapter: 6,000~  Total: 40,000~ (I’m sorry xD)

Updates daily at 10pm MST

Warnings: violence, discrimination (against hybrids), mentions of injuries and blood, anxiety, panic attacks

Summary: Yoongi, a cat hybrid, has been hurt time and time again by a world that would have him believe he’s worthless. One day he finds himself in your protective care, and gets a new family to boot. But is it really that easy to escape the past and embrace a new beginning?

Author’s Note: I love writing reader inserts but I just can’t write Y/N. It feels weird to me. So in this fic the reader’s name is Yeoji. I hope this isn’t too confusing for anyone! This is my first time posting my work so I appreciate any support it gets!

You raised the blinds just high enough to let a sliver of pre-dawn light in, but low enough that you wouldn’t be blinded when the sun crested the buildings across the way. You peered through the sheer fabric onto the square outside. The area had seen a lot of development in the last few years. Trendy little shops now lined the street. The coffee shop you owned and operated was tucked between a couple of over-priced restaurants with laughably tiny servings. 

While you weren’t thrilled with the increase in your overhead costs, you couldn’t deny the recent boost in business. There was a steady flow of customers through the whole week, not just in the early morning or on weekends. It had even become necessary to hire a couple of part-timers to keep the place open longer. Not that you minded. You were actually glad for the opportunity to give your friend, Jungkook, a job. 

The rabbit hybrid was nervous by nature despite his imposing appearance; he stood at least a foot taller than you. Your brother, Namjoon was fiercely protective of him. Jungkook came into your lives in your final year of college. The police brought a battered and terrified Jungkook to Remedy shelter, which was run by your friend Jin. They hadn’t seen what happened to him, and he wouldn’t say. As far as you knew, Namjoon and Jin were the only people he ever told.

Your eyes focused on the patio before you, as the very bunny you were thinking of appeared at the door. One of the boys came in on the weekends to work alongside you and help with the rush. The square was usually packed with couples on dates, window-shopping and listening to musicians that busked along the sidewalks.

“Morning, noona!” Jungkook chirped with his wide bunny grin.

“G’morning Koo,” you said, attempting to match his energy level despite the early hour. He laughed sweetly at the nickname. You were the only one he let call him that since he turned seventeen.

“Did you have your coffee yet?” He asked. You shook your head no. “Waiting for your favorite hybrid to make it for you?” 

“Don’t let Jimin hear you say that. You know he’ll take any opportunity to pout,” you said. 

Jungkook chuckled at that. Jimin was the shop's other part-timer. Many hybrids were affectionate, but the ragdoll hybrid took it to another level. He spent every possible second with his arms wrapped around his nearest friend. You were counted among his friends from pretty much your first meeting. When the chance to work at your shop had opened up, he thought it would be a great chance to have some independence. 

Jimin had been rooming with Jin for years. Despite his desire for independence he simply couldn’t stand living alone. So he shared an apartment with Jin and Taehyung, a sweet tiger hybrid. Taehyung had been hard to adopt out because despite his good nature, he was an exotic breed, and a predator no less. Few wanted to risk taking responsibility for him, and those that did had less-than-good intentions for him.

Life was scary as a hybrid. Between the massive industry of underground fighting rings, sex trafficking, and abuse in even seemingly decent homes, any adoption was a gamble. Jin tried his best to vet each family, but he couldn’t catch every red flag. You and Namjoon knew better than most how that haunted him.

Several years ago, the two of you stopped by the shelter. Neither of you could reach him on the phone and you were starting to get worried. You finally found him in his office, passed out over his desk with several empty bottles of soju scattered around. Namjoon tried to rouse him, but all he could mumble was ‘dead, dead, dead’ between hiccuping sobs. The next morning you learned that a hybrid he’d helped earlier that year was found dead in a seedy part of town. The couple that adopted her were being investigated on suspicion of hybrid trafficking. 

He wasn’t the same after that. He got back to his usual smiling self, but he was slower to trust, and slower to laugh. Every time a hybrid left the shelter for their new home there was a flicker of sadness and fear in his eyes.

“Noona? What’s wrong?” Jungkook asked, breaking your train of thought. You turned to look at him, blinking to stop your eyes watering at the memory.

“It’s nothing Kookie, just thinking about this sad movie I watched last night.” You and Namjoon both agreed that it was best to keep the more tragic events from the shelter quiet. Jungkook had been through enough in the past, and you didn’t want to hurt him further by bringing up old memories. Jungkook frowned at the response.

“It must’ve been really sad,” he said, sniffing lightly. His frown deepened and he searched her eyes. He seemed to debate pressing it further. You knew that his hybrid senses were telling him you were lying. But he seemed to decide it was best to let it go, instead holding out a hot cup of your favorite coffee, a soft smile returning and making his eyes scrunch.

You took it, grateful for the coffee and his letting you evade the question. You set about your morning tasks, laying out chairs, brewing coffee for the self-serve station, and checking that there was creamer chilled and ready. Sunlight sparkled in the air, reflecting off the morning frost. 

It was supposed to snow that night. You shuddered. You hated winter for forcing you to pay for heating, if nothing else. Whenever your friends got together at your house—a tiny one-bedroom apartment above the cafe—Jimin whined about the cold temperature. But you refused to pay for anything beyond what would keep your pipes from freezing. It was expensive enough to own a building in your area already. Instead you wore layers and piled blankets on your bed. Jimin wasn’t really upset anyway, he loved any excuse to cuddle. Movie night usually ended with him and Taehyung asleep on either side of you.

“You actually going to turn on the radiator tonight?” Jungkook teased.

“I have my radiator on! It’s just… turned down,” you said.

He chuckled, knowing you were too stubborn to waste money on ‘luxuries.’ He turned away at the jingle of the door bell. The first customer of the day came as no surprise. A familiar, slouching form appeared, dropped a couple of equipment cases off at the side of the door, and shuffled up to the counter. The young man had black hair that hung down and nearly covered his eyes, which flicked up to meet hers. His lips twitched in a hint of a smile.

“Good morning, Yoongi” You said with more than your usual morning cheer. Jungkook scoffed and you threw him a dirty look. The young man in front of the counter didn’t seem to pay attention, his eyes determinedly focused on his beat-up boots.

“Morning,” he mumbled, glancing up to briefly meet your eyes.

“The usual?” you asked, trying to hold his gaze.

“Yeah,” he said. This time offering you a genuine smile before he looked away again. He busied himself looking through a well-worn notebook while you relayed his usual order to Jungkook: cheese toast and a small hot americano. You returned to the counter and accepted his punch card. He practically filled one every other week, since he was in nearly every day. 

“Performing in the square again today?” you asked. He was one of the buskers that was a regular in the area. He nodded. “You should put on a coat. It’s supposed to snow later. You’re going to freeze if you’re out there all day like that.”

You looked over his clothes. The hoodie he wore was ragged at the sleeves. He had the hood up, cinched a bit against the biting wind. His signature beanie was just peeking out from under it. He scuffed his feet, uncomfortable under your appraisal. 

“I’ll be fine,” he answered shortly. He looked up at you, eyes wide as he realized how curt he sounded. “I stay warm when I’m performing.”

You weren’t sure how standing behind a keyboard and laptop could keep you warm, but you didn’t press the issue. You handed back the punch card and gave him his total. He rummaged in his pockets before frowning and looking up at the menu.

“That’s wrong,” he said.

“Hm?” you asked, though you already knew what he meant. He pointed to the menu over your shoulder.

“Your prices went up, but this is what it always costs.” He pulled a jumble of crumpled bills and coins from the pocket of his hoodie, counting through them. A couple of coins fell and clattered across the counter.

“I gave you the regular customer discount,” you said. Jungkook chuckled as he joined you at the register with the completed order.

“That’s not a thing,” Yoongi said as he finished counting out his change and handed you the total with the new prices.

“It’s my shop. I’m making it a thing,” you argued, pushing the money back toward him.

“Please, Yeoji-ssi. I don’t need a hand out.”

“I didn’t mean that you need it, I just wanted to,” you finally stammered after an awkward pause. Now you were embarrassed, and you felt bad for unintentionally insulting him. Yoongi cursed quietly under his breath. Beside you Jungkook’s ears twitched, and he sniffed curiously; no doubt sensing something you couldn’t.

“I know, I’m sorry. That’s very generous of you,” he said as he gently pushed the money back toward you. Tucking his toast into the backpack and taking his coffee he hurried back toward the door. He fumbled for a minute, trying to carry his equipment and the hot beverage. As he finally got his things together and went to push the door open, you called after him.

“Hey, drop by if you get a chance to take a break and warm up.”

“I’ll try,” he said, turning around and flashing another soft smile as he pushed through the door.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

You thought about Yoongi a lot through the rest of the day. Jungkook noticed and teased you all day. You couldn’t scold him for it though, you’d teased him plenty about his first crush.

As long as Yoongi had been coming to the cafe you’d been curious about him. He was quiet, handsome, and talented. You’d heard him perform in the square before. He played the keyboard but also produced tracks that he played from his laptop, blending the simplicity of the piano with a full-bodied studio sound.

You often wondered why he wasn’t working at a studio, producing for idols. He could have been an idol himself with the good looks he hid behind a beanie, hoodie, and bangs. The more you learned about the boy, the more you wanted to know. On your break, you googled his name and found a few YouTube videos of performances at clubs and underground rap battles. Apparently he wasn’t just a musician, he was a talented lyricist and rapper as well.

“Doing some research on your boyfriend, I see?” Jungkook said, resting his chin on your shoulder. You jumped, turning to swat at him as he quickly danced away.

“Don’t read over people’s shoulders! That’s rude,” you scolded. You could feel your face turning pink, and it irritated you to know that he could sense your embarrassment. “He’s not my boyfriend. And I was just curious about his music.”

“Mhm, right,” Jungkook said dismissively. “You’re seriously browsing Google? Come on, doesn’t this guy have an Instagram?”

“Not one that I can find.” Your tone made it clear that you had made a thorough search and failed.

“Wow, really? No social media presence at all? Maybe he has Twitter.” You shook your head. “Facebook? LinkedIn? MySpace? AOL?”

“AOL did IM and email, you dork,” you interrupted, cracking a smile. “And no, I can’t find him on any platform besides YouTube. He doesn’t seem to have his own channel…”

“Weird…” Jungkook said. “Are we sure this guy really exists?” You snorted. “I’m serious! For someone to be completely off the grid on the internet is like, unheard of. Maybe he’s hiding from the law! Or in witness protection. Noona, what if your boyfriend is a drug dealer!”

You swung at him again, this time successfully landing a smack on his shoulder. He ran back out front when the door chimed.

“He’s not a drug dealer, stupid!” You called after him. “And he’s not my boyfriend!”

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Namjoon picked up Jungkook after closing that evening. They were having a boys night at Jin’s house.

“Are you sure you don’t want to join, noona?” Jungkook asked, pouting a little bit to try and convince you.

“We really don’t mind, noona. Jimin and Tae would love it if you came,” Namjoon added.

“I appreciate the invitation, but I’ll be fine Joon. And Koo, you know Overwatch isn’t my style. You have fun with the boys. Make sure to let them win a few times,” you said, getting on your toes to ruffle Jungkook’s hair affectionately.

“I will,” Jungkook said, leaning into your hand for one last ear scratch.

You waved off the boys and set to cleaning up for the night. After mopping and turning out the lights in the front you went in the back to wash the dishes. Through the door leading out into the alley, you heard shouting. Listening for a minute, you shrugged it off. Probably just college kids from a local frat house. You often heard them as they stumbled home from the local bar. It was Friday night after all.

That explanation left your head quickly when you heard a scream. The sound nearly made you drop the mug you were washing. That wasn’t a scream of young men goofing around, it was a cry of pain and fear. Before you could think better of it you shook the water off your hands, grabbed your  phone, and raced for the door. 

You burst out into the alleyway struggling to stay upright on the thin layer of freshly fallen snow.

What you saw made your stomach turn. A group of four young men were crowded around the dumpster. Something, or more likely someone, was crumpled in the corner between it and the wall. You couldn’t see much, just rumpled fabric and a couple of bags laying around. The bags were opened, the paper and garments they had contained tossed around the alley. 

The men took turns throwing brutal kicks at the person in the corner, who was now curled so that the only thing you could see besides the snow-soaked hoodie was his hands clutching something to his chest. 

“You thought you could fool everyone? Thought you could scam a buck out of us?” One of the men sneered.

“Too bad. We know what you are. Just because no one wants you doesn’t mean you get to do whatever you want,” another said

“You’re just a toy that someone threw away. What were you thinking trying to pull something over on real people?” another said, punctuating his point with a kick to the ribs that sent the victim sprawling onto the snow.

“Hey!” you shouted before you could think better of it. You hurriedly lifted your phone to dial the police. It was dead. Panic shot through you as the four guys turned to you. Thinking quickly you put the phone to your ear and started talking. 

“Hello? I need the police. I’m in the alley behind ***********. There are some young men here and I think they’ve hurt someone.” One of the men took a step toward you, further illuminating his face in the dim security light. You took a step back. “Hey, I have all of this on CCTV! Your faces are on it!” you warned before returning to the imaginary phone call. “Yes, the cameras run 24/7. Everything should be on there…”

The guy closest to you stepped back into the shadows, cursing.

“Let’s go,” he said, turning to walk away and nodding for his friends to follow him. One of them turned to spit on the figure in the corner before walking away.

“You’re lucky, freak.”

You kept talking until the group disappeared around the corner. As soon as they were gone you rushed to the person in the alley. The person flinched away as you approached, tucking in on himself. You stopped, listening as he said something. It was muffled by his arms, which were held up in an attempt to protect his head. 

“What did you say?” you asked, moving a little closer.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry…” he repeated over and over again. The man’s voice trembled to the point it was hard to understand him, but his voice was undeniably familiar. As you came within arms reach you got a clearer view, and your blood ran cold. There bundled in a thin, soaked hoodie, was Yoongi. The snow that had melted over him from his body heat was quickly refreezing. He shivered so badly you could hear his teeth chattering.

“Yoongi?” you asked in a choked whisper.

He looked up at you then. One of his eyes was blackened, almost entirely swollen shut, with a cut through his eyebrow dripping blood onto his eyelashes. His nose was bleeding, possibly broken. The split in his lip lined up with a quickly darkening bruise on his jaw.

“Oh my god, Yoongi! What happened?” you asked, reaching out for him.

“Please,” he said, more of a whimper than a word. You froze. He was scared you were going to hurt him.

“Yoongi?” you said, more softly this time. “It’s okay. They’re gone. I’m not going to hurt you. Would you please let me help you?” The panic in his eyes seemed to clear a little, and he seemed to really see you when he met your eyes again.

“Yeoji-ssi? I shouldn’t be here. I’m sorry. I’ll leave,” he mumbled, wincing as he tried to stand.

“Woah, hold on.” You reached out to steady him. He flinched at the sudden movement, but didn’t pull away this time. “You aren’t going anywhere. Come on, let's get you inside before you freeze.”

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. It’s really not worth the tro-“ he started.

“Yoongi,” you said in your older-sister voice. He seemed to realize that that was the end of the discussion, because he sagged against you as you slung his arm over your shoulders. His free hand was still clutching something to his chest. You glanced at it and your eyes widened. A tail. You looked up at him with a clearly shocked expression. He let out a kind of tired, resigned sigh.

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. Like I said, I can just go. You can leave me. You probably don’t want me here.”

“Why would you say that?” you said, immediately regretting your tone. He shrank into himself, curling his shoulders in to make himself smaller, even as he winced at the pain of moving.

“Sorry,” he repeated meekly, pulling his arm off as if he expected you to shove him away. You grabbed his hand and settled it back over your shoulder.

“I’m not mad at you, Yoongi. But why would you think I would leave you here?” you said. As you limped toward the door into the café he couldn’t meet your eyes. He’d embarrassed you, again. Of course you’d want to get rid of him. He hung his head and obediently followed you inside. His heart broke as he saw his bags, open and empty, strewn around the alley. His notes littered the floor, already soaked and probably illegible. He glanced around, seeing the edge of his keyboard where it had been shoved under the dumpster in the scuffle. Turning, he realized his backpack—containing his laptop, important papers and notes, and what little money he had saved—was still lying in the corner where you’d found him. 

He turned to you to say something, but found you were already at the door. As soon as the door closed behind him, what little strength he had left him. You eased him to the ground as best you could. He grunted, muffling a whimper of pain. He already felt pathetic enough.

“Okay, I’m going to call the police and an ambulance,” you said, tossing your dead cell phone on the counter and hurrying to the landline. Thank god you hadn’t hadn’t got around to cancelling it yet. Yoongi’s eyes widened and he lurched forward, trying to stand. He only made it one step before he fell, yelping in pain and landing on his hands and knees on the tile. You rushed back to his side.

“Don’t,” he begged through gritted teeth. You stopped short, thinking he didn’t want you to touch him. “No cops. No ambulance,” he got out before lowering himself to lay on his side. You quickly moved to lay his head on your lap instead of the cold floor.

“Yoongi you’re hurt. And those boys should be arrested! Besides, I’m sure someone is worried about you. Don’t you have a…” you trailed off, looking for the right word.

“Owner?” Yoongi said, disgust clear in his voice.

“I was going to say guardian. That’s what most of my friends call their arrangement.” 

“You have hybrid friends? Or your friends own hybrids?” Yoongi asked.

“I guess both, not that my hybrid friends are anyone’s property-“ you cut yourself off. “Yoongi this isn’t important right now. You need help.”

“No. The hospital will call the police, and the police will put me in a shelter.”

“You’re alone?” you asked cautiously.

“Yeah. I’m better his way. If I can just sleep here, I’ll be gone in the morning. Please,” he said. His voice kept getting quieter, losing its bite the more he spoke.

“No,” you said firmly.

“I’m sorry, I know you don’t want me here. I’ll be gone before you wake up. I won’t touch anything. You can just forget all of this.”

“No, Yoongi. I meant I’m not letting you leave like this. I’m getting you help and you’re going to let me.”

You took off your sweater and put it under his head so you could stand and get the phone. Yoongi moved to protest, but you threw him a look and he surrendered. You dialed and watched as Yoongi’s eyes fell closed despite his best attempts to fight it.

“Noona? What’s up?” came the answer on the phone.

“Hoseok, I need your help,” you said, not wasting any time. You could hear the sound of video games and trash talk pause in the background as the other boys asked Hoseok what you called for.

“Shut up a sec and let me ask,” he said to the younger boys who were no doubt hovering around the phone trying to eavesdrop. “Sorry, noona. What do you need? It’s late. Is everything okay?”

“I need a doctor.”

“Are you okay?” he asked immediately, his voice more urgent now. You could hear a whine on the other end already, probably Jungkook, already worried.

“I’m fine, Hobi, but could you take this conversation somewhere more private?” you asked, not wanting to expose the younger boys to any unnecessary trauma. There was shuffling and complaints on the other end of the line, then the sound of a door closing.

“Talk. What’s going on?” Hoseok demanded. The door opened and closed again and you heard Namjoon’s voice.

“What’s happening? Is she okay?” he asked. “Are you okay?” He repeated more clearly, evidently sharing the phone with Hoseok.

“Yes, I’m fine! But I have an injured hybrid here. He doesn’t have a guardian and he’s too scared to let me call an ambulance.”

“What happened to him?” Hoseok asked. He was a doctor specializing in hybrid medicine at the nearby hospital. He often helped out at Jin’s shelter. You felt some relief as you sensed he was in what Taehyung liked to call ‘doctor mode.’

“Some kids beat him up. It’s bad. He’s passed out on my kitchen floor right now. Drenched from the snow too. I can’t carry him into my apartment myself and it’s way too cold in this kitchen.”

“I’m on my way. I’ll have to grab some supplies from the shelter.” 

You heard the door opening again, and a bunch of voices throwing questions at Hoseok and Joon.

“Jin-hyung, shelter keys?” Hoseok requested over the noise.

“I’m going too,” Namjoon chimed in. There was more arguing and shuffling noises as coats were grabbed and shoes were put on and everyone insisted they were coming. You were distracted by a soft murmur from Yoongi, still on the floor behind you. You stretched the phone cord and returned to his side.

“What is it, Yoongi?” you asked, pulling the beanie off to brush some of his fringe off his face. His soft black ears were flattened against his head, and you gently smoothed over them too.

“My bag,” he mumbled, eyebrows creasing even in unconsciousness.

You interrupted the arguing boys on the other end of the phone.

“Bring the boys,” you said.

“Are you sure about that?” Namjoon asked, knowing that you, Jin, and himself all agreed it was best to protect the three maknaes from this kind of situation when it was possible. 

“They can’t come in and see him, but I have a job I need them to help me with. Make sure they dress warm,” you said.

“If you’re sure,” Namjoon said, deciding not to question you. 

“We’ll be there in twenty minutes,” Hoseok said. “Do your best to keep him warm until then.”

“Okay. Please hurry.”

As soon as you hung up, you quickly ran into your apartment in the back. You pulled as many extra blankets as you could carry out of your closet and rushed back to Yoongi. You debated for a minute before pulling off the drenched hoodie, only to find that the black t-shirt he wore underneath was no drier. You weren't confident that you could get the garment off without further hurting him, so instead you piled blankets on top of him. You filled a couple of hot water bottles and tucked them around him; then filled a couple more and tucked them into your bed so that it would be warm when the boys carried him in.

You returned to the kitchen, where Yoongi was barely visible for all the blankets he was packed in. Glancing at the clock, you saw that only 10 minutes had passed. It felt like you’d been waiting for hours. The time crawled as you alternated between watching the seconds tick by and watching Yoongi’s chest rise and fall.

You jumped when the knock finally came at the door. They’d come to the back, the front door to your apartment, and you ran to let them in. Hoseok immediately slipped past you and headed to the kitchen. The others moved to follow, but you stopped them.

“I need you guys to help me with something,” you said. “Those thugs trashed his stuff threw it all over the alley. Joon, can you take the boys and go gather what you can and see if any of it can be salvaged? I know he said his bag is back there. It seemed important to him.”

Namjoon nodded and quickly herded the boys around the building and into the alley. You pulled Jin inside.

“I need you to help Hobi and I get him inside.”

“That bad?” he asked, frowning. You just nodded. He followed you back to where Hoseok was already taking stock of his patient.

“You did good, noona. Seems like you staved off the shock. Move him, and then I’ll dress these wounds.”

You carefully pulled the blankets away.

“Be careful, he was really protective of his tail. I think it’s injured somehow,” you warned before Jin and Hoseok picked him up. They exchanged a glance as they moved toward the apartment door.

“What?” you asked. “Is something else wrong?”

“No,” Jin tried to assure you, though his tone wasn’t comforting. “It’s just… Hobi, I know he isn’t a big guy, but is it normal to be this light?”

“No,” Hoseok answered grimly. “Definitely not.”

Now that your attention was drawn to it, you noticed how slight Yoongi was. His ribs were clearly visible through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. You felt a lump in your throat and looked away, hurrying to open the door.

“You can put him in my room. I put some water bottles to warm the bed.” They nodded and quickly settled him on the bed.

“Do you think we could cut away this stuff?” Hoseok asked, gesturing to his clothes. “It’s all trashed anyway.”

“I don’t know if he has much else…” you said, hesitant to ruin his things.

“I just don’t want to risk further injury trying to get them off intact. And we can’t leave him in these, he’s already nearly hypothermic,” he said.

“We can replace them,” Jin suggested. “I brought a change of clothes. It’s in a bag on your coffee table, noona.”

“Right, great,” you said. “I’ll go get them.”

You hurried out of the room to get the bag Jin mentioned. When you came into the living room you found Jimin, hovering by the door.

“Noona, there was a keyboard by the trash and papers everywhere. Are they his? Should we get them too?” he asked, shifting from foot to foot. His nose twitched, and you realized he could probably smell the anxiety and pain in the air. You sighed.

“Yeah, grab everything you can. We can sort through it in the morning, and see what we can save.” He nodded and turned to leave.

“Chim,” you called and he turned. You wrapped him in a comforting hug. “Thank you.”

A purr echoed in the boy’s chest, even as you heard him sniffle. You knew this whole experience was hard for him. He was one of the volunteers at the shelter the day Jungkook was brought in. That experience still haunted him. It’s why he stopped working at the shelter and took a job at the coffee shop. His tail curled around your waist as he hugged you back tightly.

“He’ll be okay, Chim,” you said, stroking his hair. “We’re going to help him.”

A pained groan came from the room behind you, and you pulled away from Jimin.

“Go back out and help the boys. Once you’re done, leave the stuff in the living room and go to the cafe. Tell Jungkook I said everyone needs a hot chocolate,” you petted his hair one last time and guided him out the door. A shout echoed out of your bedroom, and you couldn’t tell if it sounded pained, angry, or scared. Snatching the bag off the coffee table, you dashed back into the room.

“Get off me!” Yoongi shouted, tail clutched to his now bare chest. Jin stood back, hands up in surrender as Hoseok tried to calm the panicked cat. 

“Look man, your clothes are soaked. We’re risking hypothermia if we don’t get you into something dry.”

Yoongi looked down, seeing what remained of his ratty t-shirt cut open and in the trash. The right leg of his jeans was sliced along the outer seam up to his mid-thigh.

“What the hell did you do to my clothes?” He shouted again. He winced and swayed from the strain of sitting upright.

“Yoongi,” you started softly. Yoongi turned to you, eyes wide with panic. You approached slowly, not stopping when he spat at you to leave him alone, hurling threats and nonsense at you. As you sat on the edge of the bed he shrank back into the bedding around him and refused to meet your eyes.

“Please,” he said, his voice so quiet you hardly heard him. “Please just leave me alone. Please don’t hurt me.”

“Yoongi,” you said again, “I want to help. You’re safe. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.” You reached out to gently take his hands. “I swear, I’m going to protect you. Please let me. These are my friends, and they’re trying to help.”

He drew a shallow breath, wincing at the pain in his ribs and nodded. You stood and moved to leave, trying to spare him some privacy.

“Wait!” he said, stopping you. “Please don’t leave me.”

You turned back to him and took in his face, still chapped from the winter wind. You couldn’t leave him. So you stood with your back turned, awkwardly rocking on the balls of your feet as Jin and Hoseok helped him change.

“That’s much better,” Hoseok said, evidently satisfied that his patient was no longer at risk for hypothermia. You turned to find Yoongi with his ribs already wrapped and Hoseok working on dressing the wounds on his brow and lip. The flannel pajama bottoms Jin had brought were much too big for him, you might’ve giggled at how cute he looked if the situation were different. Without the dark hoodie and ripped jeans, Yoongi was undeniably adorable.

“I brought my clothes since I wasn’t sure what size would fit. I guess we should’ve borrowed Jimin’s instead,” Jin said with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

“Thank you,” Yoongi said, bowing his head in thanks.

“It’s no problem. I’ll bring by something that’ll fit you better tomorrow.”

Yoongi glanced from you to Jin to Hoseok, then back to his hands in his lap. He focused on Hoseok’s hands, which were now busy setting the break in his tail.

“Don’t worry about it, I probably have something in my bag I can wear…” He trailed off, remembering the state his belongings were in the last time he saw them. “I’ll go clean up my stuff as soon as it’s light tomorrow. Don’t worry, I’ll be out of the way before you know it.”

“Yoongi,” you said, trying her best not to sound frustrated. Yoongi’s ears flattened and you knew you hadn’t succeeded.

“I’m sorry. I can leave now if you want,” he said, tail curling back around him as soon as Hoseok released it.

Your heart, already cracked from all the events of the night so far, finally broke completely. Hoseok stepped aside to make room as you came to sit beside Yoongi again. He was shaking, and you realized that he was terrified. He genuinely believed that you wanted him gone; that you’d throw him out in the snow right then and there.

“Don’t leave,” you said, your own voice trembling now. You reached out and lifted his chin so he’d meet your eyes. He did, and you found they were shining with tears of pain and fear that he was desperately trying to hold back. “Please don’t leave. I want you to stay.”

His shaking hand came up to rest over yours, which still cupped his cheek. He leaned in to the first gentle touch he’d felt in years, and the tears finally fell. You pulled him into your arms, and he let you. He buried his face in your neck and cried as you pulled a blanket over his shoulders. 

Eventually the sobs quieted. His breaths came in little gasps now, as he tried to catch his breath despite the pain in his ribs. You leaned away after a while to look at his face and saw he’d fallen asleep. 

You looked back to find that Jin had gone to check on the boys. Hoseok sat quietly at the end of the bed, not wanting to interrupt. He gave you an approving smile, and you thought his eyes were a bit wet too. It took you a moment to notice Namjoon standing in the doorway. Hoseok helped you ease Yoongi down to lie comfortably, and you carefully disengaged herself from his arms. The two of you exited the room as quietly as you could.

“You were great with him, noona,” Hoseok praised. Namjoon beamed with pride before pulling you into a tight hug.

“I’m proud of you,” he said, planting a kiss on top of your head.

“Thank you, Joonie.” Your voice broke and you finally felt all of the emotions hit you. Your shoulders shook and you struggled to stay quiet as you sobbed into Namjoon’s sweater.

A/N: So so so much thanks to my beta reader @sunshineboysbts​ for helping me create and edit this whole fic! She’s been listening to my ramblings for actual months while I worked on this. Love you, girl!

[joe-maristopher]

«WandaVision»: 3. Wanda, dear, do we have a problem?

Boom! We have a mention of Pietro, Ultron, Shakespeare (ah, Vision's an ntellectual), neighbors with a slight horror in their eyes, unjustified speed of events, as well as the subtext "Wanda in her world is a king and the god". And yes, that awesome soap ads! The slogan is a reference to Wanda's newfound abilities, I think. I keep my eyes on Agnes and prepare an invitation for her to go to the evil characters' bench. You can't be sure of anything, but who knows, she is able use the situation for her own purposes and be a helper of Mephisto.

Let's talk about the kids and the speed of everything.

I've never been a fan of Billy and Tommy in the first place. I don't understand all the excitement associated with them, and I remember that everything ended after their appearence... badly. Besides. I've always wondered why Wanda rode into the magical wilds and didn't think/want to solve the problem any other way. Adoption, for example. Donor sperm. Something else. Why was it necessary to create such problems, taking pieces of Mefisto´s soul, and thereby laying a huge dynamite under her family?

Let's say, our Wanda goes with a different vector, without the insane desire of a crazy momma-wannabe, but the children are still demonic? Playing with Mephisto's shadow isn't for nothing, is it?

I can't help but notice that Wanda's pregnancy in the comics also appeared suddenly. I might have forgotten something, because I was laughing so hard while reading the pages, but it was like this, the quotes are not accurate.

Wanda: I WANT A REAL FAMILY WITH KIDS. WANTWANTWANT!

The magic poof!

And Wanda is on the eve of her confinement. I don't remember Vision's reaction...

Our Vision was as surprised as I was, because in normal life, it does not happen, even if you are a synthesoid (five points to Marvel for mentioning this term! Finally! We waited for the long time!). I felt like I was watching the Sims with their woohoo and three-day pregnancy. It was all very fast, and I couldn't even blink. I didn't like that part, honestly. Something is missing. I also don't like that Marvel didn't focus much on Wanda and Vision, and instead our characters existed for fast-paced development, plot tools for introducing the twins, and Geraldine-Monica's "deportation" beyond the bubble. In other words, long periods of time are reduced to the limit.

A small question. The child is already doing magic (and Wanda calmly allows)?

Creepy moment. Let's talk about Vision again.

I thought that my screen glitched or the cat walked on the keyboard, so I didn't notice... Wanda, we have a real problem... And a new question. In the opinion for the first two series, I posted a list of the questions and now it gonna be expanded. We're still walking in the fog.

So... Vision is an illusion? Highly likely! Who would give us a resurrected Vision, right? Marvel won't let us be happy, and neither will Wanda.-_-

But if Vision was an illusion, controlled, a Wanda's puppet, then why did he even begin to think about what was happening, to understand that something was happening? Why? And how many times has this actually happened, off-screen? Fic-writers, let's go! And I'm probably going with you.

I also remember Vision's face when their dinner went wrong. So what are you, Vision? And by the way, how much control do you have? The feelings are your own, aren't they? Yes, Marvel?! Don't mess with me here. Don't make the shippers angry, they're already traumatized by the comic book versions of Wanda and Vision.

A lyrical digression.

There is one more thing that I want to touch, connected with all above. A certain Twitter user previously guessed or knew the names by which Wanda and Vision will be in the series. Before the release of the series, I ask you to note. I'm talking about Illusion and Glamour. Back then no one took it seriously, but after the release of episodes, the account began to be studied almost under a microscope. There is a long history with the renaming of acc, creating new acc with the same info, it's not the point. The same acc wrote that what we see isn't Vision, but Wonder Man, who thinks he is Vision..

I have a confession. I can't stand Wonder Man and everything that goes with him, including his shenanigans with Wanda. I just hate this stuff. Who doesn't know: Wonder Man and Vision have a connection in the comics, Wonder Man's brainwaves formed the basis of Vision's, correct me if I am wrong. So, technically, they're kind of brothers. Difficult, you may say? It's comics, kids! In short, if it really turns out to be so — I will consider it a personal insult. I'm sorry, but I love Vision and I watch the show with him, not with someone else.

Also, in general, Marvel owed us one moment, and it's good if they remembered about it and give a serial explanation: for all the years of Endgame, you did not try to do anything with the Vision's body? Where is it? In what condition? Tony forgot and didn't remember Vision?

Screw it!

Okay, okay, I've calmed down. I return to the subject and stop burning with righteous anger.

Illusion or not, we know from the trailers that Vision will posibly receive an information about his death. I see how it can go: It turns out that Vision learns the truth, Wanda is not there to stop him, he decides to find out everything from Wanda, but the moment is not very good, because the agents of S. W. O. R. D doing their job, and Wanda is already in the berserk mode... And it ends badly.

Creepy moment. A sad moment. Give Wanda some cocoa and a warm blanket. Please.

That was full of pain. Wanda could try and run from her memories, or force herself to forget them, but they are coming back with suspicious questions from a stranger, with jewelry on someone's neck. Wanda's upset, the neighbors ara glitching (to Vision´s concern), and under the iceberg of family life with two newborns and a lullaby for them, there are the abyss, hiding... Creepy and painful.

I am kinda dissaponted with the 3rd episode, but still enjoyed some moments and still want to save Wanda from this darkness.

[writingblock101]

#RedRobinIsAFurry (Tim Drake x Reader)

Request for @markofthewolf (aye I like your Diego profile picture!): Funny 9 with Tim?

Word Count: 1,200 

Tags: @idkmanicantenglish, @mayahoelland2013

If I didn’t get a prompt for Tim, this would’ve been the one I would’ve written for him anyways. Thanks for the request! Enjoy!

You snort awake to the sound of your phone ringing. Banging your hand blindly on your nightstand, you hear a thud and the music sounds slightly farther away. Groaning, you lean over the bed only to be blinded by your lit-up phone, indicating that Tim is calling you. You squint, snatching the phone off the ground and roll over, swiping your finger to answer it. 

“Hello?” 

While you’re more than aware of Tim’s less than healthy sleep schedule, you would hope your brilliant genius of a boyfriend would think to check the timezones between New Jersey and London. 

“I’m sorry to be calling at 4 am, but how do you turn off the cat?” Tim rushes out in one breath. 

You blink slowly, your barely awake mind sluggishly forming an intellectual response. 

“What?” 

“T’Challa will not shut up and he keeps walking across the Bat computer no matter how many times I put him on the floor. He can open doors, did you know that because I did not.” 

You blink again, barely processing a word of what Tim is saying. 

“...What?” 

Tim sighs. 

“I’m working on a case, but every time I try to sit at the computer, T’Challa sits on the keyboard or walks across it and screws everything up. How do I make him stop?” 

“Um…” You frown, trying to remember how you normally handle your cat when he gets antsy. 

He wants attention, that much is clear, but he doesn’t always ask for attention at the best times. While normally you’d tell Tim to take a break and play with him, a glance at your watch which is still set for Eastern Time tells you that it’s only 11:00 PM, meaning Tim’s night is just beginning. 

Mirroring.

“What?” Tim asks. 

“Huh?” 

“You said mirroring…?” 

That was out loud? 

Tim chuckles. 

“Yeah, babe. That was out loud.” 

“Oh.” 

“What’s mirroring?” Tim prompts. 

“Um… He wants to be involved,” You rub your head, trying to think of the best solution for Tim. “Do you have an old laptop or something? I made one out of a pizza box, but you’re rich.” 

“Um, yeah,” You hear things shuffling in the background. 

“Set it up next to you and he’ll lay on it. It makes him feel… Involved,” You explain. 

“...Cats are weird.” 

“Yeah, well, you dress up like a bird and beat up criminals so you don’t have any room to talk.” 

Tim laughs. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right… Jason started calling me a furry.” 

Maybe it’s because it’s 4 AM or maybe the idea of Tim being a furry is hilarious, but either way, you start cracking up.  

“Rawr XD,” You grin. 

“Yeah, it was all fun and games until Bruce asked me what a furry was.” 

You laugh harder, the mental image of billionaire Bruce Wayne hesitantly approaching his son after hearing Jason call him a furry to ask what exactly a furry is. 

“Do you think he Googled it first?” You wheezed. 

“Probably.” 

“Yiff yiff!” You exclaim, tears running down your face. 

You hear Tim sigh on the other end of the phone. 

“Tim! You may have awakened Bruce to his true identity!” 

Another sigh. 

“He saw the pictures and thought ‘hey, that sounds like me!’!”  

“How are you worse than Jason?” 

“Do you think he’s going to modify his suit?” 

Suddenly, the image of Batman, furry, and bright green with purple eyes pops into your head. You think you might be getting abs with how hard you’re laughing.

“I can’t breathe!” You exclaim between laughs. “Oh my gosh, I need this to be real!” 

“I don’t!”

“Don’t worry, Timmy, one day, you’ll accept your true identity.” 

“Calling you was a mistake.” 

“Maybe we can modify your suit!” 

“I should’ve just suffered through T’Challa.” 

“You know, I think some fur would do wonders on the Red Robin suit.” 

“Is this Hell? I deserve this, don’t I?” 

“Instead of the white eye covers, we can glue on some googly eyes!” 

“Fight crime, they said. It’s for the greater good, they said.” 

“We could even go to the annual furry convention!” 

“People won’t start calling you a furry, they said.” 

“Don’t worry, baby. You’re the only guy I OwO for.” 

“... Is that how that’s really pronounced?” 

“Is that what we should be focusing on or should we talk about how you knew exactly what I was talking about despite not seeing it typed out? YOU’RE TOTALLY A FURRY!” 

“I AM NOT A FURRY!” 

You start laughing again, another round of tears gathering in your eyes before finally, you slump back against your pillow, your eyes feeling heavy.

“I miss you,” You say quietly. 

“Even though you’re bullying me, I miss you too,” Tim responds. 

“Bullying you?” You yawn. “I would never!” 

“Uh-huh, sure you wouldn’t.” 

“I’m just trying to help you accept your true identity!” 

“Wow, I am so blessed to have such a supportive partner.” 

“I’m pretty much the best,” You grin sleepily, pulling your blanket tighter around you. 

“How has London been?” Tim asks. 

You put the phone on speaker, your hand tired from holding it to your face. 

“It’s been amazing. It’s so beautiful here, but British people are weird.” 

Tim chuckles. 

“Yeah? How so?” 

“Hearing a British accent cat calling me is so bizarre.” 

Tim laughs, making you smile at the sound. While England as been amazing, you really miss your boyfriend. 

“Some of the food is weird too, but it’s still good.” 

“I’m glad to hear you’re having fun.” 

“I wish you were here with me, I think you would really like it.” 

“Oh yeah?” Tim asks. “Then I guess we’ll have to go together.” 

“That would be nice,” You smile, your eyes getting heavy. “You playing nice with Damian?” 

Tim scoffs. 

“I’m not the one you need to be worried about!” 

You hum. 

“I dunno, babe. The last time I wasn’t in New Jersey when I came back, you’d gotten a haircut with a flame thrower.” 

“It wasn’t a flame thrower.” 

“Yeah, whatever alien tech. Point is, Damian was the one holding it.” 

“We’ve been fine,” Tim promises. “Playing nice.” 

“Good,” You smile, letting your eyes close. 

The line goes silent. Tim glances over at his phone where it’s resting on the desk. 

“Y/N?” He says quietly, but only hears the sound of soft breathing. 

He smiles to himself, knowing you feel back to sleep and reaches out to pet T’Challa who is happily purring on an old laptop. 

“Do you feel involved?” Tim asks jokingly as T’Challa pushes his head into Tim’s hand. “Maybe you’ll help me solve a few cases.” 

Tim glances back over at the phone and picks it up. 

“Good night, Y/N. I love you,” Then he hangs up, letting you sleep. 

. . . 

Tim blinks awake the next morning, his arms sore from patrol. He stretches his arm then lets it flop onto the bed and reaches for his phone. A Twitter notification is waiting for him. Tim clicks on the notification and sees that you had tweeted: 

#RedRobinIsAFurry No, I do not take constructive criticism. 

“Oh my gosh,��� Tim’s head hit his pillow. 

It had over 4,000 likes and over 5,000 retweets, the first one being from Jason, of course. Tim opens his text messages to you. 

Tim: I hate you. 

Y/N:  😘

Tim laughs and puts his phone down then he hears a familiar meow. He glances up to see T’Challa staring at him from the foot of his bed. 

“I suppose you’re hungry, aren’t you?” 

T’Challa’s tail swishes back and forth. Tim tosses back his blankets then scoops up the black cat to go feed him. He can’t wait until you’re home again. 

[youarejesting]

Quarantine.1

[Masterlist] Pairing: BTS x reader (i don’t know if this will have ships or just friendship or what I am just letting it run its course) Genres: friendship, drama, romance Rating: All Summary: Your brother works with a few BigHit dance teams and whilst having permission to accompany him at work the city shuts down banning anyone from stepping outside for a whole WEEK while they disinfect the streets. If you step outside you might get arrested, shot or poisoned by the chemicals they are emitting through the city. Words: 2k 

[Part 2]  [Tag Yourself Here]

The announcement lit up everyone’s phones at once the chimes and vibrations alerting everyone within the dance studio to the emergency update. Your brother looked horrified up at you as he read the text you couldn’t speak Korean or read it well enough to understand but he left to his office. You followed his footsteps and caught his office door before it could shut. 

Switching the tv on he nervously tapped the remote in his hand listening to the people in the news station talk while bright red banners at the top and bottom of the screen relayed the emergency message repeatedly. 

“What is happening?” “Everyone is to stay indoors, they are closing down the streets and disinfecting everything if you step outside you will be shot, detained or poisoned by the chemicals, they said there are no more flights in or out of South Korea” 

Running his hand through his dark brown hair which had once been what some might call a dishevelled design and now was a nest. His tone was clipped as he told you to stay in the office, he left the room his jacket disappearing as the door shut with a small click. The ticking of the clock was so loud or perhaps that was the fierce beating of your heart thrumming against your eardrums and shaking your vestibular system. Bladder feeling tight as the rush of adrenaline caused your kidneys to work double time. Lunging at the door and chasing after your brother, Where had he gone? Opening doors left and right down the hallway calling his name. 

Trying to catch a single glimpse of the tails of his coat, before you busted open more doors filled with back up dancers all looking equally nervous. Turning the corner you started a new hallway throwing open every door you could get your hands on, your chest grew tight. Falling through the door and into a room you called for your brother trying to see through your tears. 

“Where did you go?” You sobbed, falling to your knees you were gasping for air.  “The virus?” One of the boys pointed at your collapsed figure in the doorway he had a very unique face, he had a strong jawline and high cheekbones his nose was super cute like a pixie slightly turned up and gave him a mischievous nature, his lips were turned in concern and the cupids bow was well defined and overall he had a lanky figure. You knew what he said as you had heard this word spoken repeatedly since you had been notified of the Coronavirus.

“Y/n” The familiar voice pulled you back to reality, “hey Woah it’s okay breath, it’s just an alert” There was a familiar rattling sound of a shaking canister and the plastic pressed to your lips brought back memories. You instinctively took a deep breath. “She is fine, she just gets panic attacks”

“You left me” wiping your eyes “You are okay, we all got tested on the way in remember, we are all healthy we have food and water and supplies to last a long time, and I am not leaving you alone okay” Laying your head back against the wall calming down enough to know you had walked into the office of the most famous K-pop boy band.

“I am sorry boys for my sister barging in” “No, it’s okay really,” This man said softly his voice was deep and he spoke English with clarity. He didn’t have a typical Korean boy band face but it was exotic and charming. He was very tall and slim. His full lips curved up into a smile and he handed over a blanket. Wrapping it around your shoulders, his large hands and long forearms had a few prominent veins that seemed to make you lose your breath in a totally unrelated way. “you must have been so scared, it’s okay?”

“I am sorry” “You can stay if you would like?” This voice was sweet and gentle speaking slowly in English. And yet the man behind the voice was truly a god sent the first thing you noticed were his large eyes which had sharp edges slightly turned up like a cat. Next, you noticed his smooth skin and prince charming demeanour. His lips were like soft pink pillows that made you wonder what it would be like to just gently bite. He stood up and walked closer kneeling in front of you, your eyes scanning his form he had shoulders like he was hiding football armour under his sweater. A part of you wanted to reach out and squeeze them gently.

“it is scary being on your own and my handsome face will make you feel better” he winked and you bit down on your lips before you said anything embarrassing. “No, we should leave you to it, come on, let’s not bother them anymore” With his arm under yours and across your back your brother helped guide you back to his small office. He was a choreographer and managed a few dance groups for BigHit, not at the level of BTS but bigger than a high school dance team. He laid you on the small couch and got you a glass of water. “Sleep I will email mum and dad”

He circled the floor his footsteps soundless on the plush carpet. You heard the tapping of a keyboard and faint sounds of what were either you dreaming or talking. It was like everything was happening at once and it felt like you had shut your eyes for a mere second, however, when you opened them the light was off and it was dark outside. The tapping of the keyboard and the talking had come to an abrupt stop. The silence was so loud.

He was gone. Throwing yourself upright you almost fell off the tiny couch only to be caught by a pair of hands. “your brother went to get some food but he was worried you would wake up, I was the only one who willingly stayed behind”

“Who are you?” “Kim Seokjin, but you call me Jin, You know” Eyes adjusting to the darkness you saw you were in the arms of the broad-shouldered gentleman. He sat you back onto the couch. You tried to discreetly touch his shoulders, you squeezed the area curiously, he looked down at your hand.

“I am sorry, it’s just you looked like you were wearing football armour, I thought your shoulders were fake but they aren’t, that is crazy” “Yes, they are real, so is my handsome face, you know, you may touch” he laughed grabbing your hands trying to bring them to his face, you shook your head before your stomach started growling. He pushed up onto his feet pulling you to yours as his hands were still gripping yours in a firm and yet gentle grip. “Okay, we go to eat”

He went to leave holding your hand but you moved it from his and linked your arm around his gently holding onto his bicep for support. He treated you like a gentleman and even helped you get a tray of food and carried them across the cafeteria. It was a set meal and Seokjin lead you to his table, you couldn’t spot your brother so you followed the broad-shouldered young man like he was parting the sea. 

“Ya Jiiiin” they shouted all talking as Jin placed your meal across from him. “Miss y/l/n, This is Kim Namjoon our leader and Jeon Jungkook, Min Yoongi, Park Jimin, Jung Hoseok, Kim Taehyung” They greeted you with a small hello bow or wave while eating and you lowered your head giving your name back before continuing to eat in silence. 

You made a face at the strong smell of kimchi. Gently lifting the small metal circle off your tray and pushed it to the centre of the table. Your stomach couldn’t handle the strong fermented taste of Kimchi. “Where do we sleep?” You piped up when they had finally stopped talking to eat their meals, your question had some of them freezing as they looked down at their plates.

“There is one room of beds but I don’t think we will get them, the CEO's get priority” they nodded at the words and you hummed looking around.  “What about all the couches? Are they foldout beds?” Pushing your empty tray forward to rest your hand on the table.  “I don’t think so?” Namjoon hummed “perhaps we should invest”

Once dinner was over you searched the building for anything remotely useful for a bed and you came across an old storeroom, that had obviously accumulated props, broken furniture and lost and found items. Among the broken chairs and ripped curtains. You found a queen-sized futon in a packet it looked like a promotional item, the plastic cover was dusty and you found three sleeping bags. Taking the service elevator you brought the items upstairs and as quick as you could to your brother’s small office. 

You passed the boys communal meeting room and froze you didn’t need all these items. Knocking on the door you waited patiently. They opened the door and you stepped inside and shut the door, “I found a futon and some sleeping bags and I know there isn’t enough for everyone but I only need for my brother and I and thought maybe you might like something, as a thank you for being kind, You can probably fit three or four on the futon so you should have it”

“You found it so you should have it?” Namjoon said softly and you blushed you hadn’t expected all their attention on you like this. It made it hard to think of what to say. “Where did you find it?” Jungkook asked “There is a storage room in the basement full of broken furniture”

“Look Yoongi, Hoseok, Jimin, Jungkook and I have Futon’s cause sometimes we fall asleep here when we are working you should keep whatever you want and we will take any extra’s” “Well, um if five of you have futons, then the other two can share the queen futon, and my brother and I will have sleeping bags, do you know if there is anyone else who needs something to sleep on?”

“Uh yes actually our manager in the office to the left,” Jimin said walking forward. The room seemed to get hotter with every elegant and precise step he took. Feet crossing one over the other his leg extending gracefully his steps looked light as a feather and didn’t leave a hint of a sound. He looked like you could bump him and he could go flying away. Yet the muscles contracting visibly against the dark fabric of his pants proved he wasn’t as feeble as you thought, he was compact and strong.

“Do you have a preference in which sleeping bags you would like?” “Uh..” Mind blank as you were frozen in place by his piercing eyes, they were a smouldering dark reddish-brown. You blinked cheeks turning a brighter shade of pink and started inspecting the three sleeping bags in your arms, you checked the size and made sure they were all cleaned and didn’t have any odd lingering smells. They were all in excellent condition so you chose the smallest. “I assume I am the smallest so your manager can have one of the taller ones”

“You’re cute, let’s go” He grinned taking one and patting your head, you followed him out watching his tight pants move with every step. You noticed his shoulders dip with each step and that he was leading with his hips. You ducked past him as he knocked on his manager’s office door. “Ah, goodnight dream about me”

You froze eyes blowing wide and your cheeks going bright red, his laugh made him look like an innocent schoolboy and he almost toppled over in amusement. You scurried off into the office trying to regain any semblance of composure, leaning against the door taking deep breathes the laughter echoing in your head “Where did you go?” “I got sleeping bags from an old storage room in the basement”

That night you couldn’t sleep to busy thinking about the handsome young men who were a few rooms down, you had met them all but only a few of them you had the chance to inspect closely.

[Part 2] [Tag Yourself Here]

[nsheetee]

Physics Teacher!Doyoung x Art Teacher!Reader

Genre: High School Teacher AU, Enemies to Lovers AU || fluff, slightly crack-ish

Summary: Doyoung is ecstatic to start working at his first job in Neo City High School... until he runs into you, the eccentric new art teacher that quickly gets under his skin. When you and Doyoung are forced to chaperone the Valentine’s Day dance, you have to put all of your differences aside in the name of stopping high schoolers from grinding on each other and protecting the fruit punch from being spiked.

Word Count: 3k

a/n: happy birthday to the bunny prince! I hope your bday is filled with love, and cheers to the future! also, I hope everyone enjoys reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

doyoung loves school

always did: as a child, in high school, and in college

he honestly loved to learn and was studious, his parents always bragged about his grades and long high school resume filled from top to bottom with achievements and scholarships

but doyoung was glad to finally hold his college diploma in his hand, marking the end of his student days and signaling the beginning of his professional career

as a high school teacher

many of his friends warned him that teaching in a high school would be draining, that it would kill doyoung’s spirit within the first school year 

doyoung didn’t listen, his friends have never been teachers so what could they know?

he walked into his very own classroom on teacher prep day, a few days before the actual first day of school

he breathed in the musty smell of old carpet and the sharp tang of dry erase markers 

ah, yes, perfect

doyoung neatly arranged his desk; his favorite fountain pen had to be exactly 10cm from his computer keyboard and the computer monitor had to be facing up at a 19 degree angle so doyoung wouldn’t have a double chin while looking at the screen

yes, he did use his trusty ruler and protractor to measure it all out, and then neatly placed them into the top drawer of his desk 

doyoung has always been tidy, very articulate and precise

what else would you expect from a man who studied math and physics for five years?

just before leaving his room to meet with his boss, the principal, he’s startled by a knock on his door

you stand at the entrance to his classroom, a bright smile on your face and your hands clasped in front of you as you bounce on your toes

your outfit consists of a long, dark orange skirt that nearly touched the floor and teased the sandals that are strapped to your feet

you wore a bright yellow shirt with a short blue scarf wrapped around your neck, some wooden jewelry laying on the scarf and also dangling from your ears

doyoung is sure his mouth is open in disbelief but he can’t seem to regain enough control over his face to hide his surprised and mortified expression

“hi! you’re kim doyoung, right? the new physics teacher? I’m Y/N.” your voice is chipper and bright

“are you in the correct place, ma’am? this is neo city high school.” doyoung asks 

you tilt your head slightly, wondering why he’s asking such a question

“oh!” you exclaim, moving your wooden necklace and blue scarf out of the way to show doyoung your teacher badge, “I’m a new teacher this year, just like you! I thought I would come say hi.” 

doyoung is sure his mouth is, once again, slacked open 

looking down at himself, he sees a very big contrast in what you look like and what he looks like

doyoung wears a crisp white shirt that’s buttoned all the way up, a blue tie around his collar and his own teacher badge perfectly centered in the middle of his chest

he ironed his slacks this morning and even shined his shoes

is this not the dress code for teachers at NCHS?

he’s sure he read the dress code section of the teacher’s manual, stating that professional attire is required

but as he watches you dance into his classroom from his desk chair, skirt swinging around your legs, curious eyes glancing all over his room... he’s not sure what to do

should he tell his superiors?

he doesn’t get to think much before you sigh and close your eyes, holding out your arms on either side of you as if you can feel some nonexistent wind pass by you

“wow, you have such a nice classroom. the windows and the view, I wish my classroom was open like this.”

“may I ask... what class you teach?”

“art” 

doyoung immediately does not like you

maybe he’s a bit biased (okay, very biased) but he has never liked art

the atmosphere of an art class is not his cup of tea

why are there no written rules for art?

why was he always instructed to “paint with your heart and soul, not your brain”?

why did his high school art teacher scold him for drawing the golden ratio for every single assignment if there are no rules!?

it’s the only C doyoung ever received and, yes, he’s still salty about it

“oh. my. goodness.” doyoung is pulled out of his path down memory lane by your exclamation 

you stride over to his desk, finding a seat next to his computer and accidentally moving it with your hip

doyoung gasps when his perfect 19 degree angle is ruined, and his hands come up to grip the hair at the back of his head when you pick up his favorite fountain pen, turning it over in your fingers

“uh...” doyoung trails off, not sure how to politely tell you to get away from his stuff

“I love this pen!” you exclaim, “this is a Monteverde, isn’t it? wow, I never expected anyone else to appreciate good quality pens, especially not physics teachers.” 

your comment flies over doyoung’s head, he can only focus on how you keep annoyingly clicking the pen and randomly drawing on his clean sticky notes that he placed exactly 17cm from the edge of his desk

in what feels like only seconds to doyoung, you draw an intricate lily on a sticky note and stick it to his computer monitor 

haphazardly dropping the pen back onto his desk, you hop off and wave at your fellow co-worker as you walk out of the room

doyoung can only stare at the mess you left behind; you were only in his classroom for a total of three minutes and yet, it looks like a litter of puppies were let loose 

doyoung’s distaste for you didn’t end there

once school started, he could see the increasing amount of students that absolutely loved you and your art classes

he heard about how you walk around in flip flops and sandals, even when the temperature started to drop outside

he heard about your habit of humming jazz while painting, tapping your foot and bobbing your head along to your own music

he over heard students talking about how you’ve never once worn the same set of jewelry, and betting on how many different sets you actually have

doyoung isn’t sure why he’s so intrigued by you; you have absolutely nothing in common and doyoung doesn’t understand your eccentric way of living

but the universe keeps pulling you to each other

for example, how you both come to school at the same time, punching in for work on the same minute, awkwardly giving your “good morning’s” to each other before you go to your respective classrooms

or how you both have your break during 3rd period, and go to the teacher’s work room in the office to grab a cup of coffee and whatever delicious pastries the office ladies brought in that day

even when you both run the after school clubs (doyoung helps run the robotics club, you help run the art club) you’d somehow bump into each other despite the club rooms being on opposite sides of the school

other than the first day you met, doyoung has no reason to be angry with you

but he is, for some reason he can’t get you off of his mind, and it’s infuriating

maybe doyoung is infuriated because you don’t seem to be affected by his presence in the same way that he’s affected by yours

he always pushes that thought out of his mind, but today, when you’re both called to the home economics room, it’s more apparent than usual

you’re already talking to mr. lee when doyoung walks in, your smiling face and comfortable posture with your co-worker makes that fire in his stomach ignite, and he just wants this to be over with as quickly as possible

“ah, doyoung you’re here, great! I have a favor to ask both of you” mr. lee, or ten as you both know him, rests his elbows on the desk and clasps his hands in front of him, “I need you two to chaperone the valentine’s day dance tonight”

“there’s a valentine’s day dance tonight?” doyoung asks and ten sends him a deadpanned look

“yes? it’s been on the morning announcements everyday this week”

doyoung crosses his arms in front of his chest and looks away, a bit embarrassed that he’s been caught not listening to the mandatory morning announcements

(doyoung always wears crisp dress shirts to work, and you about die when his arms bulge through the shirt with his actions, his chest seeming to stretch wider than the ocean and shoulders looking as solid as a rock)

(maybe you gulp a bit, and maybe you try not to pant at the sight, also)

“didn’t you tell me that you and principal moon usually chaperone the valentine’s day dance?” you ask, moving your attention away from doyoung’s chest and turning to ten

“yes, we do, but this year mr. moon’s wife surprised him with a dinner date and he says he can’t let her down”

“and why can’t you chaperone?”

“my cat went into labor”

you and doyoung look at ten with dead stares, trying to comprehend ten’s words

ten scoffs and rolls his eyes, slamming his palm down onto his desk

“well? is no one going to congratulate me? I’m going to be a grandpa by the end of tonight!”

“congrats...” you mumble out, “but I’m sorry, I can’t chaperone tonight.” you try to quickly think up of a valid excuse as to why, but nothing of value comes to mind

“yeah, neither can I” doyoung speaks up, turning around to walk out of the room

“wait” ten speaks up, making doyoung turn back to face both of you, “if I remember correctly, I covered for both of you when you couldn’t show up to the bi-yearly meeting last month. you both owe me, and this is how you’ll repay.”

you and doyoung visibly sulk in your spots

it’s true, ten did cover for you when you couldn’t go to that important meeting, and by the look on doyoung’s face, it looks like ten has him trapped, too

so that’s how you and doyoung end up at the gym after school, watching the student council committee set up all the decorations and the dj set up his equipment on stage

the theme is “love under the sea” 

doyoung cringes when he saw the banner reveal over the front of the gym, and you can’t help but wince at the overused theme

the decorations are lovely, though; different shades of blue lights glow from the the ceiling and cast a blue hue to everyone below, the stage is covered in blue tinsel and large balloon figures of seashells, crabs, and mermaids

even the drink and snack tables have underwater themed cookies and chips, with large bowls of blue fruit punch centered on every table

so far, chaperoning is easy; you and doyoung have to make sure no one gets hurt and that there’s enough helium for the hundreds of balloons that were blown up and are currently rolling around on the floor

but then, students start to arrive

ten assured you and doyoung earlier that no more than 100 students would show up the whole night; groups of people would come in and out for the three hours that the dance would be going on

but of course, tonight is the night that everyone decides to come to the dance

although the student council is having the time of their lives with the amount of money they’re receiving in ticket profits, yours and doyoung’s eyes bulge at how over 100 hundred students are already waiting in line to enter the gym

“wait, wait” you run towards a group of girls who just paid for their tickets, “you have to take your shoes off before going in”

“why?” they give you an almost disgusted look, and you entertain the fact that you have to look up at them to look them in the eyes

“your heels could scrap the gym floor, please take them off” you look down at the girls’ shoes, confused on how they can balance on such tiny leverages 

“but, it’s part of my outfit” you give the girls one long, hard, blank stare until they roll their eyes and step out of the heels, immediately shortening themselves by four inches and walking away

doyoung’s night also doesn’t start out smoothly....

he walks into the boy’s bathroom, hoping to relieve himself before the dance actually got underway, but instead is frightened by a pair of students playing tonsil hockey against the urinals 

“mr. kim!” they shout and doyoung covers his eyes and turns away, for some reason feeling like he’s in the wrong even though the public restroom is not supposed to be used for making out

“the dance started 10 minutes ago and you’re already doing that!” doyoung shouts and the students apologize, heads bowed as they scurry out the door

about an hour into the dance, you and doyoung finally find each other through the chaos of the school gym

“either ten lied to us or today is just an anomaly; there has to be at least 300 students here right now” doyoung tries to speak over the music, but you still have to lean in to hear him

“we need to call other teachers to come help, it can’t just be the two of us here.” you reply, but doyoung barely pays attention

you face is leaning into his, but your sporadic eyes and looking somewhere else 

the blue hues of the lights shine off of your cheekbones and permeate through your hair

doyoung thinks you look good in blue, and he could keep looking at you for a while longer

until something behind you catches his eye

“oh, no...” doyoung trails off, and you look turn around

in the middle of the dance floor, right in front of the dj’s speakers, a swarm of students gather around and you can faintly see through the dim lights of the gym that a grind circle ensues

“oh, no...” you mimic doyoung as the group of students “dance” to the music, almost gyrating and squirming against their partners

it’s almost too painful and awkward to watch

doyoung makes the first move to separate the circle, trying to push his way through, the swarm of students stick together like a group of flamingos; they’re so congested that it would be easier to move through a vat of molasses

the teens stick to each other in their dance moves and you feel sorry for doyoung who tries to yell “no hands on knees. I said DO NOT PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR KNEES” at the crowd, the music swallowing him up

as you watch on, your eyes latch onto a group of guys who surround one of the drink and snack tables

you would’ve overlooked them, but the way they’re suspiciously eyeing their surroundings makes you curious

you walk closer, only to see one of the guys carrying a shiny flask, holding it upside down over a punch bowl

“woah, woah, woah, what do you think you’re doing?” you call out as you march closer, frightening the group of students 

“nothing, we’re just getting a drink.” maybe if you didn’t see them pour alcohol into the punch bowl earlier, you would be fooled by their lies, but you give them a disappointed look

“really? that’s why you have a flask on you?” you ask the student with the alcohol, and all of their eyes widen into dinner plates

the night only erupts into more chaos after that

you and doyoung never have enough time to stop and call ten or any other teacher to come help you, too busy dealing with teenage antics

at one point in the night, “under the sea” plays, and you and doyoung are pulled into a conga line of students as they travel around the gym, and someone from the yearbook committee snaps a picture on a polaroid camera

as the night comes to a close, students leave to go home and the gym floor becomes visible once again

you sit against the wall, holding the polaroid in your hand and silently smiling at yours and doyoung’s surprised expressions, his hands on your shoulders and a bad, red flash in both of your eyes, only adding to the candidness of the whole scene

doyoung slides down next to you and hands you a cup of the spiked punch, which you had moved to a different room after you reprimanded the boys who spiked it

“for me?” you ask as you accept the cup

“yeah, I think we both deserve it for dealing with tonight” you and doyoung do a silent cheers and hit your plastic cups together before downing all the punch

“wow,” you cough a bit, placing a hand over your mouth “high schoolers don’t play around, huh” you look at the cup, wondering exactly how much alcohol was in it before setting it down on the floor, deciding not to think to much about it

the dj was hired from 7pm to 10pm, and although doyoung’s watch says it’s 9:57pm, the dj still plays songs even though only you and doyoung are here to listen to them

“this is for the chaperones tonight,” the dj suddenly speaks into his microphone, “you guys did a good job.” 

a slow song starts to play, you and doyoung don’t recognize it, but doyoung laughs awkwardly at how you’re both put on the spot, even if there’s no one here to witness it

“well, let’s dance, doie.” you stand up and hold out your hand to him

maybe it’s the energy and confidence from the alcohol, or maybe this is something doyoung has always wanted to do, but he takes your hand and guides you to the dance floor

your hands rest on his shoulders and you try not to feel giddy at the thought of finally getting to feel them after looking on from the distance for so long

you blush at your own thoughts, or maybe because of doyoung’s hands traveling around your hips and pulling you closer to him

for a minute, you and doyoung just sway a bit

the music is nice and the blue hue from the lights makes doyoung’s eyes and skin shine, you can’t pull yourself away from him

“you know, I’ve actually never been to a school dance before.” you don’t know what possesses you to say it out loud, but doyoung’s eyes widen at your words

“me, too.” 

at that moment, doyoung realizes that maybe you two do have something in common

and as you lean your head against his collarbone, humming the already familiar melody of your first song of your first school dance ever

doyoung knows he doesn’t mind getting to know the parts of you that aren’t that similar to him

it’ll be worth it