#… identity is confusing. can’t I just be cat?

[cutestlildoggo]

Thinking about my alterhuman identity a lot lately

[fancyfeathers]

Mother!Reader and Bruce are relaxing on a couch. (Much to her discomfort.) Daughter!Reader comes running in carrying a raccoon calling it her "Son". Mother!Reader: Sweetheart where did you get that? Bruce: ... The rest of the batfamily comes running in because what does she mean "son"?! Only for them to see Daughter!Reader holding a raccoon that is eating the bacon she didn't eat that morning at breakfast. Even worse for them, she doesn't let Damian pet her "son", and she makes Dick buy baby diapers for her "son" because her "son" can't be having accidents around the house. The paparazzi catches Daughter!Reader at a gala and soon the news crew come running over too. Gotham Daily Times: Ms. Wayne what is this new exotic pet of yours? Daughter!Reader: Ah, Wayne is not my last name, (whatever last name of theirs) is my last name. But, um, this is Wally. He likes to run really fast around me, say hi Wally. (Cut to her holding her son, Wally, up to the microphone of the reporter only for him to sniff it.) Gotham Daily Times: Well, Ms. (last name) has just confirmed a raccoon, her "son", named Wally is officially her pet. Can she out beat Bruce Wayne's son Damian Wayne in hoarding exotic animals? We shall see next time on Gotham Daily Times news channel nine. The speedsters watching from central city: Wally? Because he likes to run fast? ... Someone call Batman how does she know our identities.

Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling Masterlist

I LOVE FERAL DAUGHTER!DARLING!!!!

Love the idea of her being an absolute menace when it was just her mother raising her and Bruce having no idea what he is getting himself into with this.

Like it was when she was playing out in the garden in the morning, perhaps even the morning right after the wedding, there is no real honeymoon besides on paper at Wayne Enterprises since Bruce is still the Batman. The two of them are just getting up, after the kids have had had breakfast together and Mother!Darling is literally about to tell Bruce about her daughter’s rather… playful behavior-

“Mama! Mama! Look what I found!”

She already feels like laughing when she hears her daughter’s overeager voice and the bedroom door opens with her daughter running in with her holding something in her skirt and-

“This is my baby! I found him in the yard, I think his mama is dead…”

Her daughter holds up a baby raccoon while Bruce is half way through tying his tie.

“Can we keep him?”

“Of course, little love.”

“Dear-“

“You have something to say, Bruce?”

Well played, if Bruce was to say no now it would break her heart and set everything off on the wrong foot. When she runs out of the room she looks over at him with a knowing glance, she may have been fired into a marriage, but he will feel the consequences of his actions…

“I suppose I forgot to tell you about her… mischievous habits, you will get used to it eventually, and no, there is no taming her, do not try.”

Jason does not understand why she wants it around, it’s a raccoon in Gotham, a baby but still, but hey if it makes her happy and even slightly annoys Bruce, he is fine with it.

Dick is fine with it? He is just confused as of why, I mean if his little sister wants a pet she gets a pet, but why no a cat, dog, or even something like a ferret, but a raccoon? Alright, he’ll ask Babs if she can find any books on exotic animal care and he will take her to the pet store with Damian to pick up supplies-

What does she mean Damian can’t come? When they are little, she is terrified of him, honestly she is always terrified of him. Why would she let him anywhere near her pet when his stare makes her feel daggers. She is holding her baby raccoon away from Damian, and his pets, Alfred the Cat, Titus. Damian is pissed and very well could go whining to Bruce about it.

Then Tim is just freaked out by it, but when he is sitting the furtherest from his new sister and her new pet in the living room and everyone is suggesting names…

“How about Wally? Dick what do think?”

“Ya, he definitely reminds me of Wally.”

“Who’s Wally?”

“Don’t worry about it, lovebug.”

But then this naming choice certainly backfires when Wally West comes running (literally) to Tim about it, at first he is panicked about it but then he sees her playing with the raccoon and-

“Fuck… I hate that you’re not wrong about that.”

Though this situation only escalates over the years when she finds other animals, a husky puppy her father suggests to name Clark, a baby owl named Diana, a hummingbird named Roy, and cats named Barry and Connor.

[gurugirl]

Spiderman | fratboy!harry

Continuation of this one shot - but can be read as standalone.

Summary: You’re at the big Halloween frat costume party and get to flirting with someone dressed as Spiderman. The tall, masked man with a deep voice just so happens to know a private spot to reveal his true identity to you.

Word Count: 4.2k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, slight mask kink, this is mostly just gratuitous smut

Tonight was your excuse to dress up like the supervillain Poison Ivy. A short green dress with patches of fabric leaves all over and a crown of ivy on your head. Mostly it was just something cute to wear to draw a little attention. Plus Poison Ivy is bisexual so you were hoping at least someone picked up the hint. All were welcome, so to speak.

When you got to the frat house you noted all the sexy and fun Halloween costumes. Lots of tit-bearing cats, a few she-devils, some baseball players in well-fitted jerseys, a Lego. The house was packed. The music was loud. Too many of your fellow university schoolmates had begun drinking early. You arrived late on purpose. Drunk wasn’t a cute look. At least you didn’t think it was. Not on you anyway. And you kind of hoped to get hit on and maybe get lucky. Tipsy sex could be fun. Drunk sex wasn’t memorable enough to be worth it.

“Haven’t seen you around in a while.” You looked over at a tall someone dressed in a Spiderman costume. The hood was covering his face so his identity was a mystery, though you thought you recognized the voice as someone you’d had a fun hookup with once.

You leaned your hip into the counter just as you’d finished pouring yourself a drink, “Is that so? I guess I wouldn’t know if I’d seen you around or not since I can’t exactly be sure who you are.”

His laugh had you grinning suddenly as he mimicked your stance, leaning his own hip into the counter facing you, though you couldn’t see his eyes under the spandex material.

“So, you’re telling me you can’t recognize me by my body?” He leaned his head down as if looking over himself before bringing his face back upward, “This costume hardly hides anything.”

You cocked your head, sipping your drink as you allowed your eyes to travel over the red and blue spandex. It clung tightly to his chest and hips, thighs… You didn’t miss the bulge either as you brought your eyes back up to the spot where you figured his eyes were under the mask, “Nope. Sorry. Should I recognize you by your body alone?”

You could tell he was smiling under the spandex, “You should. As I recall, you know my body rather intimately.”

Now you were certain it was the fun hookup you had a while back. You didn’t know him well. But you did know him to be quite popular. And attractive. And the time he went back to your dorm with you and your friend was quite memorable. But you decided to play coy a little bit. Just to get him going.

“Really? Hmm…” You feigned confusion as you slowly ate up his frame, inch by inch with your gaze. His heavy-looking bulge was a nice reminder of how sizable he was. You wouldn’t forget it. “Still doesn’t ring a bell. I don’t see any outstanding features here.” You waved your hand up and down gesturing at his frame.

He nodded and remained quiet. You were sure he was feeling you out. Trying to see if you were fucking with him or not. You were.

When he inched in toward you and placed his gloved hand over your forearm he leaned in and spoke quietly into your ear, “I’ll give you a hint. Would you like a hint, Y/n?”

You nodded as you felt his warmth. He was so close to your body as he spoke, “Had you bouncing on my cock, made you come, all while your friend watched us fuck.”

You swallowed. Yes. You remembered very clearly that night. It was the only time you’d ever done anything like it before. And now, he was clearly trying to get you in bed again. At least… that was the vibe you were getting. You looked down and realized his bulge was, well it was bulging. Was he getting turned on just thinking about it? You needed to have him again. Wouldn’t mind feeling that thick cock inside of you once more.

You sighed and turned to face his mask, “Hmm… maybe. I’m not positive, though. Might need to check a few things out to verify–“

Harry’s grip on your forearm tightened, “Can be arranged. Wanna go find a room so you can verify?”

You laughed as you looked around. You’d never been talked into something like this so fast in your life. Then again, Harry, you knew it was him, was quite convincing and he was good in bed from what you remember. You couldn’t feel bad for giving in so quickly.

Harry took your hand and you followed him upstairs, leaving your unfinished drink in the kitchen and long forgotten.

The good thing about the frat house was that it was massive and there were enough bedrooms that you were able to find a free room almost right away.

Harry locked the door behind himself and then suddenly he was pushing you backward toward the bed where you fell to your bottom the moment the back of your thighs hit the edge. You giggled as he put his spandex-covered hands on your thighs. Propping yourself up by your elbows you watched him take in your bare legs and then one by one, lift each upward to remove your heels. He was between your thighs and the erection he was sporting indicated he wasn’t wearing underwear. Or if he was he’d fully pushed his way up and out of the top band.

“M’gonna give you a little reminder. Take you down memory lane and have you sit on my face. Is that all right?” He climbed over you on the bed, hovering over your body and looking down at you. You really wished you could see his pretty eyes.

“Okay. But how are you gonna do anything with this on?” You plucked at the fabric covering his face.

You heard a breathy, amused laugh fall from his chest as he pushed himself off of you and laid down on his back, “You’ll see. Climb up.”

You adjusted yourself, straddling his torso, and then lifted upward, gently placing yourself over his face, not yet sitting all the way. You were still wearing panties and you were hovered over his mask so you weren’t sure what his plan was exactly.

“Lean forward a bit.” He spoke from under you.

Leaning forward, you put your hands on the headboard and he adjusted something underneath you and that’s when you realized he was lifting his mask to uncover his mouth and part of his nose before pushing your panties aside and grasping your thighs, pulling you down on his mouth. You laughed when you settled and looked at the Spiderman mask between your thighs. You couldn’t see much of his nose and his mouth was covered by your pussy but the whole thing felt ridiculous to you.

Ridiculous until he began mouthing at your pussy slowly, using his tongue through your crease and his hands gripped your ass, pushing you into him further.

“Oh!” You tightly grabbed onto the headboard again in a gasp.

His warm tongue slid up and down and his moans made you hot. You hadn’t quite been ready but with his mouth on your clit, you were quickly aroused and slowly wetting his face.

Kissing and sucking sounds below drew your eyes down to him. You could see his dark curls sticking out from the edges of his mask where he’d pulled it up, his pink lips were also memorable. How had you not reached out to him after that first night? He was good. And he was so fucking hot. But he was also really nice to you and to your friend.

You tilted your pelvis down and dragged your clit over his nose and moaned softly as he pushed his tongue into your entrance. The slow lathering of his tongue up and down your crease and his puckering lips felt just as good as you remembered.

He pushed at you and inhaled a sharp breath, “Starting to remember me now?” His shiny berry lips quirked up in a cocky smile as you panted and shook your head, “Nuh-uh. I’ve sat on lots of faces. Gonna have to give me something more if you really want me to remember you.”

His raspy laugh had his nostrils flaring and he pushed at you, causing you to move off his face, “Fine,” he breathed as he sat up, “Lie down. Looks like you need something a little extra.”

Your back hit the mattress as he sat back on his haunches and pulled at your panties, tearing them down your legs and pushing your dress up your thighs, exposing your cunt to him as he lowered his face over you, his shoulders bumping into the back of your thighs to hold you down.

“Y/n, you taste just like you did before. So soft and sweet,” he ran his spandex-covered finger through your crease and you gasped at the odd feeling of it. He laughed at your reaction, “You’re wet enough that this should still feel really good. Tell me if it’s irritating to your skin,” his mouth and nose, and ends of his hair were still exposed as he circled two fingers over your clit and had his face tilted toward you.

When he opened his mouth wide and lowered it over your clit you grasped onto his hood and sighed. It was so good. Just like before. His tongue and lips and the way he gently sucked you in made you quiver.

But it was the odd sensation of his fabric-covered fingers slipping through your wetness that kept you very much in the moment. You kept imagining that the shiny spandex would soon collect all your wetness and you’d be left dry and it would start to hurt but it was the opposite.

The smooth material became coated and the extra friction from the fabric felt yummy.

He slurped your clit and took a good long lick upward from your entrance to your clit and then held up two of his fingers so you could see, “Look. Just want you to see this before I start fucking you with them. Nice and slippery,” he scissored his fingers apart and you saw the strings of arousal stick together,” But tell me if you don’t like it.”

“Oh my god…” you moaned as you craned your neck up to watch him as he slowly plunged them inside of you.

You tightened your thighs, but Harry used his free hand to hold you apart and the grin on his face as he watched his gloved fingers slide in and out of you was lewd, “Hear that?” He increased the speed at which he was fingering you, your wetness being pushed in and out with his fingers was definitely audible, “Bet that feels so good, doesn’t it, Y/n?”

You nodded and moaned again, still trying to keep your neck tilted so you could watch.

When he wrapped his mouth around your clit once again, though, you cried out and your head fell back onto the mattress in surrender.

His fingers, his tongue, and his lips had you writhing and moaning pathetically, “Oh fuck…” you cried as he curled his fingers just right, and flattened his tongue over your clit, his face aimed toward you as if he were watching your reaction.

He continued fingering you as he lifted his face and planted a sweet kiss to your clit, “How’s it feel? Do you want to come, Y/n?”

You moaned and gasped as you nodded, “Yes, Harry…” and the moment you said his name you knew you were busted. Your eyes widened and Harry’s grin took over his face, you could see the beginnings of his dimples.

“Figured you’d remember me,” he kissed your clit again and spoke against your pussy, “Hang on, sweet girl. Gonna finish you off properly.”

And finish you off he did. Properly at that. He held you down with one shoulder and one hand as he fingered you with his other and sucked and dug into your clit. The noises were obscene. From the wetness you’d created, to the fast pace of his fingers pushing and curling into you, to his slurping and moaning…

“Come on baby,” he coaxed when he felt your thighs shaking and your moans turned into whimpers and cries.

His tongue flicked side to side quickly and then he dug in as if he was sucking the last bits of juice off a mango and the vibrations from his moans had you seeing stars. You gripped his head and shouted his name as you came in his mouth. You thought you heard a laugh come from him but you were so far gone in ecstasy that you couldn’t care. You knew you were being loud but it wasn’t every day that a man came around to give you head the way Harry was.

When you’d opened your eyes you noticed you pushed his mask up further with how you’d been hanging on, nearly his whole nose was exposed as he softly licked upward from your entrance to your clit. He removed his fingers and was cradling the underside of your thighs with both hands. Like a loving little gesture to help you come down.

Suddenly he was hovering over you and had his lips pressed to yours. Your first kiss of the night and it tasted like your pussy. But you liked the taste of pussy so it didn’t bother you.

You could feel Harry’s hard erection on your thigh as he licked into your mouth and cupped your face.

It felt so sweet and so desperate at the same time. You knew he needed to be taken care of too. He deserved to have the favor returned after the way he’d just handled you with such precision.

Pushing at his shoulders he gasped as he parted from your lips, “What do you need, Harry?” You asked him.

He moaned and rolled his hips down so you could really feel him, “You. Just you. Whatever you’re willing to give.”

You grinned and wrapped your finger around a chunk of his hair, “But what do you want? Want a blow job? Want to fuck me? Want my hands?”

Harry exhaled heavily and dropped his mouth open, “Can’t stop thinking about how good you felt on my cock. The way we fit together.”

You bucked your hips up and nodded, “I can’t stop thinking about it either. You felt so good. Stretched me out so nice.”

“Fuck.” Harry quickly moved off of you and stood at the edge of the bed before opening up the side drawer, “Need a condom.”

You rolled over and opened up the other side table drawer to rummage through it. Not finding anything other than pens and loose charger cables. You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel bad about rummaging through a stranger’s things when you had Harry Styles about to fuck you.

Harry adjusted his cock as he quickly walked to the dresser on the other side of the room and looked through the top drawer and let out a groan of relief, “Fuck yes.”

Holding up the condom he placed it on the dresser and untied the top of his spandex suit. He was still wearing the mask, though it had been pushed upward and his hair was exposed at the ends, slightly more grown out than the last time you saw him, but he was too focused on his task to worry about how funny he looked with his mask half covering his face. The moment he untied the top he began to pull at the suit and peel it down his toned and tattooed torso. You sat up and watched him undress. He had no underwear on just as you suspected.

You had to laugh at the spectacle. Just like a woman wearing a cute tight body suit, men had the same issue with needing to remove the entire thing in order to use the bathroom, or in your case, fuck.

“Heey, don’t laugh. Beauty comes with a price.” He grinned as he kicked the body suit away and opened up the condom, slowly putting it over himself. He looked over at you and tilted his chin upward, “Get your dress off. Wanna see those pretty tits.”

You giggled and pulled at your stretchy dress, easily removing it by the time he made his way back to the bed. He climbed over you, his mask still covering his eyes as he leaned down to kiss you.

The way his mouth moved against yours and his hands found your breasts and your ribs and your tummy as he moaned and licked at your tongue gave you a surge of need. You lifted your hips toward his and slid your hands down his torso to grab his cock.

He pushed himself down into your hand and then reared back gently to slip his shaft through your labia, wetting the condom, “This is gonna be better than the first time. No performance anxiety with a third watching.” He grinned down at you as he moved back to take you in below him.

You laughed as he pulled at your thighs and lifted your legs over his, angling your hips upward so your bottom was positioned on the tops of his thighs, “Were you nervous last time with Heidi? It was your idea? And… can we take this off?” You gestured to his mask.

“Heidi? That was her name?” He responded as he pulled the mask off from over his eyes and tossed it behind himself. “Sorry, I barely remember. But… I wanted you to think I was cool. Plus she was kinda cute. But it was really all about you.”

You pushed yourself up to your elbows at this revelation, “Wait. You only invited her because you wanted me to think you were cool?”

He shrugged and smiled shyly, “Yeah. Knew you liked girls too. Figured it might make you like me if I was cool with that.”

You shook your head, “And then you just never reached out to me again after?”

He puffed out a soft laugh, “I don’t know. Felt like maybe you weren’t as into me. Didn’t want to embarrass myself.”

You took his hand and pushed your fingers between his, “Well, after this it looks like we’ve got some talking to do. I kinda thought you were too cool for me so that’s why you never bothered.”

The look on his face was surprised, “Me? Too cool? That’s not… no way. If anyone is too cool it’s you, Y/n.”

You laughed and tugged at his hand, “Please, Harry. Just fuck me.” You were relieved to see his eyes and the top of his head finally. Just as handsome as before, hair slightly more undone from the hood he had over his head, but it was perfect for what you two were about to do.

Harry let out a shaky breath and looked down to where your entrance was wet and softly clenching for him already. His lips dropped open as he leaned forward, your hand still in his, pressing it down to the mattress next to your head as he pushed his tip in.

“Ohh…” you breathed out and watched his face scrunch up as he plunged in slowly.

“Feel that? This the reminder you needed?” He whispered lowly as he inched in.

There was a moment of silence between you two as you watched each other and he began to move in and out, deeper on each thrust. Heavy breaths and soft moans until he’d reached into you as far as humanly possible, hips rocking into you and fingers tightly squeezing around yours.

“Fuck me… Fucking condom sucks but you… holy shit…” Harry moaned and began to roll into you faster.

You reached your free hand up to move his hair from his face, “Harry… you feel so good inside of me. Oh, my god…” The snap of his hips wetly collided with you as the small bed creaked gently.

Harry held himself up with one hand, palm flat on the mattress as pushed into you, his muscles tensing and flexing above you, “Yeah? Feels good just like you remember? You’re so wet for me, Y/n. Didn’t know you needed me so bad,” he panted his words.

You were wet for him. So wet it was almost embarrassing, but you were glad in a way because he was quite sizable, and if you’d been any less wet it might have hurt. But as it was, the slip and the stretch and the way he could drag himself in and out was delicious.

You cupped his face and moaned loudly as he pounded into you harder. You could feel your tits wobbling and the bed dancing under your back. Harry was groaning and his eyes grew dark fast. Every time he bottomed out he ground himself into you deeply and you gasped at the ache, “Careful! You’re almost too deep!” You breathed out your words in a rush.

His cocky smirk meant that he took that as a compliment, so he did it once more, his eyes pinned to yours as he slowly stuffed himself into your cervix, “Ahh! Harry…” You widened your eyes and then he pushed himself back to his haunches.

“Sorry. Can’t help it,” he spoke, still grinning at you as he smoothed his fingers over your clit and worked his cock in from the new angle.

You knew he was long and that he’d reach deep, but that kind of deepness usually wasn’t achieved without you being on top. Even average-length guys felt deeper when you were on top. But Harry, of course, wasn’t average-sized. And you could tell he was very aware of that fact. Proud of it even.

With his fingers on your clit and the new angle his cock was nudging into your little sparkly, yummy soft spot inside over and over again. You moaned his name and he let go of your hand to fondle your tits. He continued a nice pace, slipping back and pushing in, long, exquisite strokes that filled you and stretched your insides apart. You could only imagine how he’d feel without the condom inhibiting the texture of his skin pressed into your skin. The friction, the way his foreskin would move inside of you, and his swollen tip uninhibited by smooth latex would really make the drag something.

“Yesss!” You moaned as he hit your spot perfectly, the repeated glide of his thick crown into your g-spot, had you trembling.

Harry breathed hard through his nose as he looked down to where he was fucking into you and back to your eyes, “Gonna come already, Y/n? Tell me how good it is.”    

“Fuck, Harry… You’re so big and you're pressing into something inside of me that I can’t… I’m gonna… it’s so good… so full… oh fuck! Gonna come…” you babbled and moaned as the bed squeaked and the headboard softly tapped the wall in time with Harry’s thrusts.

“Shit. Was gonna fuck you doggy but if you come I’m gonna come, baby. I can’t help it. Your wet pussy is just sucking me in,” he pressed down over your clit and hastened his fingers and you could feel him shaking.

You tensed your thighs and cried out just as a knock came to the door. Someone was saying something but you were gone. Your ears were ringing and your loud cries and buttery, mouthwatering orgasm were all you could focus on.

Harry groaned and pushed into you a few more times, before he couldn’t hold back, dumping his come into the condom with a choked moan.

He could hear someone threatening to unlock the door but Harry was in bliss. There was no way he could stop his cock from twitching and coming and you were so sweet and pretty below him with your face scrunched and your cries of nonsense.

The cliché of time standing still had been true in that moment. You couldn’t stop trembling and clenching over him as you felt his cock throbbing inside of you. Harry’s own orgasm just prolonged yours. He had leaned over you, his fingers in your hair as he pushed into you with gasps and soft whimpers.

When you finally opened your eyes and Harry had caught his breath the door was opened and Harry turned back quickly, covering your frame with his broad chest, “Sorry! We’ll get out. Just… let us get dressed,” Harry’s words came out breathy and stuttered as he was still breathing heavily.

“Harry? God damnit! Just… Fine. You owe me, man.” The guy who was speaking closed the door. You never saw his face because Harry had covered you and when he sat back he smiled softly at you.

“Want to go back to mine? Stay with me tonight? We can talk a little.”

You grinned and sighed with a nod, “Of course. And then maybe if you’re up for it, you can fuck me doggy like you wanted.”

Harry breathed out a laugh from his nose, “Oh I’ll be up for it.”

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[bandgie]

Dreaming of Painter on Floor Two | EP. 2

MASTERLIST | KINK: ORAL

🗝 It's exactly like the Pink Palace, only a thousand times better. It helps that the beautiful man upstairs is infatuated by you. Maybe the buttons for eyes isn't too bad.

3.7k words

warnings! MDNI18+, fem!reader, oral (f!rec), fingering, hyunjin has button for eyes (duh), face riding (brief)

The tunnel is felt material. It’s all smooth and soft as you crawl your way to the Otherside.

Whatever the Otherside may be.

You can’t see much other than the opened crawlspace straight ahead. It looks identical to the one you came from, but the feel is…different.

It’s welcoming. Though you’re roughly halfway across, there’s a warmth pouring from the other door that beckons you closer. It’s like a ray of light on a cold autumn day, and you’re a cat wanting nothing more than to bask in it.

So you do. You smile when you reach the Otherside, putting a hand forward to push the door fully open and to see your living room.

Wait? What? Did you crawl the wrong way?

The smile on your lips turns into a confused frown, but you squeeze through the opening anyway. It’s not until you stand and finally look around that you notice it’s not quite the same. The boxes are gone, and rather than the dirty couches you begged Chan not to bring in the middle of the room, the ones here are clean.

The only thing that vastly differs is the painting on the wall. The boy in blue is not crying over his ice cream. Instead, the scoop sits perfectly on his cone and he smiles hungrily at his dessert. 

Okaaaay?

You suppose it does make sense to dream about the apartment. The rumors you’ve heard and the anxiety you felt moving, maybe this is your brain's way of coping.

But, damn, how disappointing. Maybe you weren’t necessarily expecting a terrible nightmare, but at least something…fun.

Whatever. Hopefully, Chan and Changbin are dreaming of something more exciting. You consider going back into the tunnel before the kitchen light flickers on. Even the bulb doesn’t have that buzzing sound it normally would. It’s a much warmer tone that says, I’m in here!

Who though? Did your friends decide to make a cameo in your dream? Each step closer is like a rollercoaster. It fills you with anxiousness, excitement, and everything in between.

All that wonder fizzles into confusion again when the kitchen is utterly empty. There’s a hint of bacon and eggs as if someone was cooking only seconds ago. It’s the note on the table, however, that catches your attention the most:

I’M WAITING FOR YOU UPSTAIRS :) SEE YOU SOON <3

This has Changbin written all over it. You smile at the thought of him appearing in your dream despite sleeping beside him. Of course, you’re the one conjuring him here, but when you wake and tell him, Changbin would quickly say, ‘Of course, I was there! I just can’t get enough of you.’

You take the note and skip to the front door, wondering what your dream-Changbin has in store tonight. Does he feel bad about making you choke on his cock and wants to make up for it? He did say he wanted to use his tongue. Maybe you went to sleep thinking about it so much you decided to dream about it.

All the different ways he can and has swirled his tongue on your cunt come to mind, but opening the door silences them all.

It’s…

“Oh my god.”

Beautiful.

The grass is green. The sky is blue. The flowers are alive. It’s nothing compared to your actual front yard. Even the stars gleam with excitement, as if happy you’re here. The air isn’t chilly when you step out like it normally would be. The breeze in the night is so gentle on your skin, like a hug from someone who’s missed you dearly.

Changbin…he can wait. Yeah, maybe your legs are still a little sticky being that you got excited and aren’t wearing underwear, but none of that matters. The scene in front of you is mesmerizing and it takes a strong gust of wind to keep you from walking down the porch.

Leaves pick and blow in front, causing you to see how they trail to the stairs and up. 

Ah, he’s really trying to get your attention. 

You giggle and clutch the note a little tighter. “I know. I know. I’m coming.”

-

Knock. Knock. Knock. 

Something clutters on the other side of the door. You grin at the thought of Changbin panicking, trying to clean the room before letting you in.

“Hellooo!” you press your ear to the door. “I’m waiting out here!”

“I-I know! I’ll be there in a sec!”

The way you jolt is almost like you’ve been electrocuted. That’s not Changbin’s voice. That’s not even Chan’s voice. It’s softer than theirs’, almost nervous. You don’t have much time to try and figure out who it belongs to before the door opens.

He’s tall, his narrow build makes him seem even taller. His hair curls at his neck, long and dark.

The fullness of his lips and the wideness of his eyes go over your head. You’re stuck staring at the dark pits of his eye sockets.

Black buttons for eyes.

“Oh shit.” It slips out before you can even register them leaving your lips. His eyebrows cross, and despite not having pupils, you know it’s from confusion. Maybe even some interest. 

“I’m sorry. You’re not…you’re not who I thought you were. They don’t have b-b-buh…”

“B-b-b-buttons? Of course I’m not who you were thinking of.” His buttons gleam mischievously. "I’m better.” He widens the door and grins, hardly giving you any time to comprehend the person - the being - in front of you.

He turns inside, craning his neck back and pursing his thick lips. “Well, aren’t you coming?”

You take a deep breath. The pounding of your heart is subdued by his aloofness: his curious…buttons and the beckoning of his slender finger. Plus, you’ve heard you only dream about someone you’ve already met. Or at least seen. Perhaps you’ve come across him at some point.

Your brain just decided to play a sick trick.

Exhaling, you walk through the door. The man waits until you’re fully inside before shutting it and the lights in the room brighten immediately.

Canvas, brushes, and colorful rags messily lay on the floor. Art stains the floor and now that you’re standing right beside him, you see it’s on his hands as well.

“I was painting when you knocked.” He sees your staring. “I tried putting some stuff away but…I tend to work a little messy.”

You wander further into the room. His artwork ranges from the moon in the sky to a black cat perched on a branch. As you keep exploring, you see the painting of you.

Not just you, but your roommates. The three of you are outside, the grass notably browner, and talking while the moving truck drives up the hill. The perspective is drawn from the higher window, right where the second floor is.

Goosebumps travel on your skin. No wonder you felt like something was watching before you walked through the front door. “You… saw that?”

The man comes closer and crosses his arms, squinting like he’s evaluating his piece. “Yup. I mean, I live here too, you know? Just on the Other side.”

“The Other side?”

He nods. “Yeah, every place has one. This is the Other side of the Pink Palace. Didn’t the place you lived at before have one?”

Besides the random dreams of the rooms being switched and the walls curing in, none felt like this. “I guess. I mean, a dream is a dream. Right?”

Something like danger flicks in his expression. His buttons seem to darken, but he smiles just as quickly as it appears. “Right.”

You shake off the shivers and look back at the painting, noting how he managed to capture Changbin’s height and Chan's build even from up high.

“You’re really good um…” You never got his name.

“Hyunjin.” He smiles bashfully. “You can call me Hyunjin. And thank you. I love art. I just see something beautiful and I have to paint it.” He steps closer, your shoulder on his arm. “Like, I just wish I could see beauty forever. I have to keep it somewhere or else I’ll forget.”

“And you think this was beautiful? The dying grass and everything?”

Hyunjin laughs. “There’s more than that. There’s you.”

You whip your head to him. “Me?”

“Of course.” His smile is infectious. “I told you I like drawing beautiful things. Your friends are pretty too, but I would love to get a portrait of just you.”

You’re flattered, but also off-put. “Why? You wanna keep me forever?” It’s meant to be a joke, a play from his words earlier, but he doesn’t laugh with you. Hyunjin keeps his smile still like he’s controlling himself from saying what he truly wants to say. But he finds something to settle with. “I think a painting will do for now.”

Finally, he laughs. It doesn’t quite reach his buttons, but it’s better than the eerie silence. Hyunjin pulls a chair and tosses the rags off, gesturing for you to sit.

You’re all too conscious of the fact that you’re pantyless. Even as Hyunjin keeps insisting that you sit more comfortably, you keep your legs crossed at all times.

It’s after a few strokes of his brush that Hyunjin breaks the silence. “Can I be honest with you?”

You raise an eyebrow. You can’t help how your body goes rigid, making you move from the position you’ve been in, but he doesn’t seem to mind. “Yeah.”

Hyunjin’s buttons meet your eyes only for a brief second before he looks back at his work.

“I saw more than just you three moving in.”

Your thighs tense. The movement makes them rub against your cunt and hit your clit, but you can ignore the burst of pleasure to focus on the pit in your stomach. “What do you mean?”

“Like. I saw you… find the key.” Hyunjin clears his throat. “Saw you open the door. The mouse, ah, I didn’t mean to scare you.” There’s a faint smile on his lips. “But last night - tonight, I saw you and your friends…make love.”

You’d spit out water if you were drinking any. “I- I wouldn’t really call it making love but-”

“It didn’t matter what you call it. Sex, fucking, piping, none of it matters.” The sounds of his paintbrush cease. “I…I liked watching.”

There should be red flags going off. Hyunjin isn’t even looking at his painting. He isn’t even sitting on his stool anymore. He’s walking over to you and stopping just a few inches away, clenching and unclenching his fists like he needs to ground himself. 

“I liked it a lot.”

There should be red flags, there’s none in your mind. All you can see is the memory of Chan and Changbin fucking you. How one cock stretched your mouth while the other stretched your cunt. You’d be lying if you said you aren’t trying to hump against your thighs subtly, but all you can do is pulse and bat your eyes innocently at Hyunjin like you’re embarrassed.

“D-did you?”

Hyunjin falls to one knee. He’s so close you’re scared he might smell the sex on you. “I did. And, I also saw that you couldn’t get kisses.” 

His hand rests on your knee. He doesn’t have to use any strength to pry them open. You part your legs all on your own to put your cunt on display. Hyunjin inhales like he’s starstruck. His buttons seem to shine and he swipes over his bottom lip hungrily.

“I can do that for you now.” He leans in, lips ghosting over your inner thigh, and presses a gentle kiss to it. “If you’d like.”

Okay. You need a mental check-list:

One: He has buttons for eyes

Two: He’s from another world (apparently)

Three: He’s been watching you.

Four: HE HAS BUTTONS FOR EYES

But despite all that, you opt to tell yourself this is all a silly dream and nod, threading your fingers through his hair to guide him closer. Hyunjin lets his tongue trial the softness of your skin before finding your cunt. It’s not his tongue he prods it with, but his lips.

He’s kissing you as if it were your mouth. Soft, gentle pecks just on your clit. The sound of his lips smacking your own fills the room soon, and you widen your legs so he has full range.

But his tongue doesn’t make an appearance yet. Hyunjin trails his lips low to your entrance so he can kiss you there too, getting acquainted with every inch of your pussy. It feels way more intimate than if he were to use his tongue. Hyunjin pulls your skin taunt so he can properly plant his kitten kisses.

It’s when his lips are on your clit that he sucks. Your nub enters his mouth suddenly and you moan. Finally, his tongue swipes over you. It’s so much hotter than you would have imagined, and when he lets your cunt go, he licks a stripe up.

“Fuck.” Your legs threaten to close from the stimulation. You’re already shaking, but Hyunjin has just started to eat you properly.

He smiles with his tongue prodding your entrance. “Sensitive still?” It turns into a grin when he finds your clit again, flicking his tongue back and forth just to watch you grip the chair until your knuckles turn white.

The room erupts in giggles. Hyunjin can’t contain his laughter when your glossy eyes cross.

“Dick.”

His tongue moves back into his mouth, taking a string of arousal with it. Hyunjin moans at your taste, his throat bobbing as he looks up.

“Yeah. I bet you’d like that right now.” One of his fingers slides into your entrance. There’s hardly a stretch, but you squeal anyway. The tip of his finger feels so deep that you can’t stop clenching.

“Look at how you act with just a finger.” Hyunjin can’t look away from your cunt swallowing his digit. “Tight fucking pussy. No wonder why you always need it fucked.”

You mewl at his words. It only adds to the pleasure building in your stomach. Pools of arousal leak onto his finger down his wrist. You know he can see the cream oozing from your throbbing hole. He seems almost entranced by it.

“Are two cocks even enough for you?” Hyunjin’s buttons lock with your eyes.  “You had one in your mouth and one right in here. And you’re still wanting more.” His finger curls inside. You swear it’s touching your cervix, squeezing so much that your vision nearly goes black.

“You gonna fuck me?” You don’t know how you manage to speak. It comes out more as a challenge than a question, but Hyunjin perks up anyway.

He slows his finger, deep in thought. His lips are still shining with your arousal when he licks them. 

His answer is another digit sliding into your cunt. Now you can feel the light stretch. You completely still for the first time, drinking in the feel of his knuckles dragging up and down your walls.

It’s normally hard to cum from just being fingered, but Hyunjin seems as if he’ll get it on the first try.

“I don’t think you can even handle my fingers, baby.” You can feel his warm breath on your cunt. “Feels like you’ll cum any second.”

You’re trying to hold out, to ignore how his fingers hit that perfect spot and wiggle. You can feel your clit throbbing every time he buries his digits deep, and Hyunjin can’t help but take it into his mouth again.

A near-scream leaves your swollen lips when he licks you. Hyunjin doesn’t hold back in ravishing, nose digging into your swollen nub so his tongue can flick your folds. The pumping of his fingers only quickens, and you can hear how your cunt gushes with every piston of his hand.

“Yesyesyes, I’mma cum. Dontstopdontstop.”

You tug on his hair harshly. It’s almost like you’re trying to pull him off from how raw your cunt is getting, but Hyunjin knows to keep going. The spasming of your walls and your moaning only spurs him on even if your yanking makes him groan.

He only has to pump you a few more times before you come undone. Your stomach caves and your pussy feels like it’s on fire. You can feel the dribbling of your thick cream running down Hyunjin’s fingers.

His digits slow, but they don’t come to a full stop. Hyunjin lets you ride out your orgasm on his face and hand, uncaring for how you move his head down and up down messily on your pussy. He moans with you, making sure to keep his tongue stiff so you can rub your clit on it as you please.

It’s when your grip loosens that he pulls out. You whine from the loss, bucking your hips to catch his fingers, but meeting his lips instead. He kisses you gently, similar to when he started before your eyes turn droopy and your skin glows from the post-orgasm.

You widen your eyes when he pulls away. You nearly forgot about his buttons when you see them again, but you don’t flinch or look in horror this time. Instead, you wrap your legs around his waist when he stands and leans down to place his lips on yours.

You can taste yourself on him. The scent and everything about the kiss feels so real. Even his clothed cock pressing against your bare cunt throbs realistically. You giggle in his mouth, grinding your hips to hear him groan. “Now what? You gonna fuck me?”

Hyunjin smiles with you. He pulls away to make sure he can see you, really see you. It’s one beat of silence that passes, but the intensity of his buttons makes it seem like an eternity. 

“Now, you wake up.”

The worst part about dreams is forgetting them seconds after you wake. But even as you open your eyes to the sunlight streaming in through the window and sit up, you seem to remember everything.

The upper level, the paintings, Hyunjin, and the buttons. 

And of course, the ache between your thighs helps to keep the memories fresh. You should be too tired to get turned on by his plush lips and soft tongue, but your body seems to be awake almost immediately thinking about it.

Chan and Changbin aren’t here to help you with morning sex. Based on the letter they left on you on the bed, they’ve gone to the studio. 

Workaholics.

It still takes a second to get your legs to move without shaking. Your wet dream felt so realistic, so tangible. You could feel his mouth on yours if you tried. You can remember how his buttons gleamed between your legs. 

Too real. So real. 

You need to touch some grass. 

The Pink Palace’s property is huge. You thought the dying garden was a sight to see, but the little woods in the back quickly became your new destination.

If you ignore the creepy atmosphere and dying October trees, you can see this area as bewitching. You like the crunch of dead leaves beneath your boots and the twisting branches. You keep following the pathway until you stumble upon a fairy ring.

Weird. The mushrooms seem to circle perfectly, and you can't stop yourself from stepping right in the middle.

“Stop!” a voice calls in the distance. “Don’t stand there!”

You scream when you hear an engine revving. There’s not enough time to move when the motor rides down the top of the hill. All you feel is dirt hitting your face and strong arms swooping you until you are no longer surrounded by the fungi.

“Put me down!” Your fists connect with his back. Your shouting makes your kidnapper shout, and you swear you can hear the hissing of a cat somewhere.

“Owowow! Stop that!”

You’re set on your feet moments later. The rider stops in front of you to hop off his bike and kick the stand. You’re clutching at your chest when he takes off his helmet, showing a rather shy expression and wide eyes. 

Okay, so not a kidnapper. But a weird guy for sure. It doesn’t help that his black cat sits on a tree stump, blue eyes narrowed accusingly towards you.

That cat looks like just the one in Hyunjin’s painting. 

“Geez.” The man rubs his back, arms bending awkwardly. “You an MMA fighter or something?”

“Who are you?” His comment flies right over. There’s still some adrenaline thrumming in your veins, but you cross your arms and try to act unbothered. “Where did you even come from?”

“Oh.” He turns pink. The man rubs the back of his neck timidly. “I’m Han Jisung. I was riding my bike up there when I saw you walking into the woods. I didn’t mean to uh…follow you.”

The cat stretches uninterestedly when you point a finger at Han Jisung. “You’re stalking me?!”

“No! No, I was just-”

“I don’t like being stalked, not by stalker-weirdo-freaks, or their stupid cats!”

The feline hisses. 

“H-Hey! Don't call him that.” Jisung walks over to the cat, petting it behind the ear. “He’s sensitive. And he’s not mine. Well, maybe a little. I like to feed him at night. He leaves me little dead things as presents. It’s cute.”

You nod slowly. “...right”.

“And I know who you are. You just moved into the Pink Palace, right? My grandma owns the place.” He moves his hand away from the cat that chirps in protest.

“She stopped renting out after…everything.”

You know exactly what he’s talking about, but you can’t help but press. “After everything?”

“Oh, you know.” He laughs nervously. “Just costs a lot to keep a building as old as that one running. Maintaining the upper and lower levels even though they’re closed. Maybe she thought having tenets would help with the bills.”

But he’s talking too fast, too much. Almost as if he’s trying to find something you’ll buy while he flicks the kickstand up and hops on his bike. 

“But uhhh, I hope you’re liking the place! Old houses like that are full of mystery and history.” Jisung lightens up. “Oh! That rhymed. Haha. Uh, be careful where you step next time.” He gestures to the fairy ring. “You were standing on a well.”

You look at the mushrooms. “A well?” But his response is to start the engine. You take a few steps back and watch as he drives up the hill, leaving the stray cat behind.

It looks at you curiously. There’s a shine in its eye that feels more than just an animal. “What? Don’t tell me you’re gonna be my stalker too.”

[tastesousweet]

⭒ blurb : calling hamzah your “friend”

bf!hamzah x poc!reader

summary : headcannons/blurb based on the tiktok trend of calling your partner “friend”

mickey speaks : since ppl really liked my first lil blurb imma just play out all my tt fantasies with our fake bf :D also pls send me any hamzah reqs my brain is very empty lmfao!!!!

─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────

you prop your phone up against the vase of flowers on your dining room table, capturing both you and hamzah in frame.

“guysss!! look my friend brought me takeout hibachi for dinner tonight!” you squeal and lift the styrofoam box to show off your meal.

hamzah doesn’t catch it the first time, he’s honestly tweaking because he stopped to get you both dinner right after the gym.

he feels starved but maintains composure and a smile for your tiktok bit

“i just got the basic fried rice, veggies, and chicken. i think my friend got the same, hamzah what’d you get?”

his eyebrows pinch in confusion for a second, “uh yeah, i got the same as you.”

“okay first bites! i’ll have my friend go first” you can’t help but smile when you grab the phone and start to record hamzah, but he’s paused holding his fork in the air.

“why do you keep saying that?” he softly asks through a laugh.

“what?”

“callin’ me your friend?”

“are we not friends...?" "i mean yeah sure but like not just that?" "you're confusing me, just take your bite please we’re gonna run out of time on this”

he nods his head compliantly and exaggerates a hum of “mmm!” after his bite before taking your phone to film yours.

“okay friend, your turn!” he loudly mocks with a wide grin.

you try not to laugh while taking a bite yourself

“it's actually so good, i needed this right now.”

you now record the both of you, “okay my friend and i are gonna finish this and then we’ll be back with more bestie activities!”

as soon as you say 'friend' again hamzah leaves the frame to chuckle through the amount of food in his mouth.

“right, best friend?” you urge some more

he swallows and pettily glances from side to side, “where's the best friend at???”

“okay he’s trippin’ but we’ll be back”

you're both in your bathroom now, hamzah reads over the packaging of two sheet face masks while you pull your hair away from your face with a fuzzy cat-eared headband.

"'kay, now we're gonna do these face masks together, because hamzah’s such a good friend!” you hold and rub his arm.

he puffs his lips and closes his eyes in defeat while shaking his head, “stop,” he looks down at you, noticing your headband, “that’s cute,” he flicks one of the cat ears on your headband.

“you look like one of those get ready with me girls; you'd be like,” he mockingly pretends to push his hair back, “‘get ready with me to lie on the internet!’”

you laugh with him and add to the joke as well, "get ready with me to kill my boy-friend! my friend!" your eyes widen and you try hide the embarrassment.

hamzah quite literally points and laughs, "look at you! even you know you're a damn lie! girl, get outta here!"

cuts to a clip where it’s just hamzah talking to your phone as he shifts the mask around on his face, “i don’t even know if i’m doin’ this right, bruh.” he looks into the camera, “oh hell nah, i look crazy!”

“it feels so weird…” he taps at the slick, cold mask some more before coming close to the camera again, “guys im having a fucking identity crisis. why’s my girlfriend gaslighting me right now?"

“like, i didn’t even know that girls knew how to do that…comment down below right now and give me tips on how to understand women.”

“okay i found one, look how cute!” you’re back and holding another fuzzy headband with a bow in the middle.

hamzah laughs, “i love you, but im not wearing that.”

in the next clip of course he’s wearing it, “aw don't we look so cute?”

finally cuts to a clip of you later that night throwing yourself next to him in bed and flipping the camera to record him as he plays candy crush, curled under the comforter. “hi babbyyyyy! i was joking about the friend thing i know you’re my boyfriend.”

“i know you know i’m your boyfriend,” he distractedly mumbles, laying on his side while continuing to move his thumb around his phone screen.

you flip the camera once more as you wrap an arm around him and squish your face on top of his hooded head. he looks into the camera and smirks to himself when he sees your sweet face.

he sticks his tongue out obnoxiously, yells “goodnight vlog!!!” and covers your phone's camera with his hand forcing a loud cackle out of you.

[runariya]

The Auction (JJK) • Chapter 5

pairing: wolf hybrid!Jungkook x cat hybrid!female reader genre: mafia!AU, hybrid!AU, dystopian!AU, S2L, dark romance, slow burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: foul language, angst, being held hostage, obsession and possessiveness, zoomies and howls <3, humiliation, thoughts about escaping, murder, showing of female genitals, failed escape, attempt, manhandling, chocking (not the hot kind), slight identity crises, OC has shit parents, lmk if I forgot smth word count: ~ 2.7K

a/n: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

a/n 2: alright, listen, I’m really disappointed with auction myself. I thought I could tell short stories, but honestly, it all feels so rushed, unfinished, and shallow. I would’ve much rather fleshed it all out and made it flow better, but then the chs would’ve gotten way too long, which I didn’t want either, and now it’s all 💩 anywho, I hope you all still enjoy it lol

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • masterlist • 6

Today’s a day when you’re more bored than usual, not in a way that makes you moody, but in a way that, unfortunately, gives you the zoomies. You’ve been running around the penthouse for a straight hour now, using every elevated surface to jump on and off, hiding behind the curtains, and, shame on you, seeing how far you can nudge Jungkook’s sculptures before they topple off their stands.

You’re in your element, free, despite being still trapped here, when a tiny, beautiful red dot appears on the wall to your right. You stop dead in your tracks, eyes locking on it as your pupils dilate until there’s only black left. Wiggling your hips, you get ready to pounce on this lovely dot.

You charge at it, but it quickly darts from the wall to the floor and down the corridor, and you can’t help but zoom after it, desperately trying to catch it but always missing by just a hair’s breadth. The chase lasts a good few minutes—up and down the walls, over Jungkook’s couch, and back again—until it finally stops, and you think you’ve caught it, only to realise the dot’s not under your hands but on them.

“Huh?”

You move your hands away, only to quickly snatch at the dot again, only for it to still be on your hands, not under them.

Jungkook’s snicker snaps you out of your trance. Looking up, you see him standing in the study, which you hadn’t even noticed you’d run into, holding a laser pointer in his tattooed hand.

You’re absolutely mortified, utterly humiliated and so, you straighten up immediately and storm out, refusing to acknowledge the fact that Jungkook definitely caught you having fun.

Later that day, you’re rather surprised that Jungkook doesn’t mention it, acting like nothing unusual happened as he enters his bedroom, just like every evening. But this time, instead of shamelessly stripping off his clothes, he stares you down with a thoughtful gaze.

You just stare back, not the least bit bothered or scared, knowing he’ll, like always, be the one to break and talk first.

“Get dolled up, I’m taking you with me tonight.”

“Ugh, but I don’t wanna,” you groan, flopping down onto the bed, arms stretched out like the whole thing belongs to you. Images of your heat still flash through your mind sometimes, especially in moments like this when Jungkook stands all dominant at the foot of the bed.

He never touched you, even though you fucked yourself on him more in those few days than you ever did during past heats. Not that you haven’t had a partner before, but Jungkook’s body hits different, like his physique was made just for you.

“Don’t care. I’m not going to clubs without you anymore.”

That makes you sit up, a little confused, wondering why he wouldn’t want to go without you, like he’s your loyal boyfriend or something. Maybe you could use this as a chance to slip through his fingers. Play unwilling for a bit longer, and he might not suspect anything.

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“Ugh, you’re not my dad.”

His face hardens at that, but there’s no anger in his eyes, just a sadness you can’t quite place.

“Please get up and get changed, okay?”

Wow, Jungkook asking nicely? That’s a first.

“Fine,” you huff, getting up and pretending to be all sass and pouty as you disappear into the bathroom. But as soon as the door closes behind you, a bright smile spreads across your face.

It’s loud in here. So utterly, overwhelmingly loud, you think your eardrums might burst at any minute. Jungkook’s currently guiding you through the crowd, not dragging you by the wrist like usual, but with his fingers intertwined with yours, carefully making sure you can follow as the crowd parts for him.

You’re relieved when you finally make it to a private room. The noise is still there, but bearable now. You’re not the least bit anxious to see his usual group of friends, ones you’ve met a few times after the poker night. 

Jungkook sits down on a couch where Yoongi’s already perched, and there’s enough space for you to sit beside him, but, like always, Jungkook pulls you onto his lap, his big hands cradling your middle as if it’s necessary to show everyone that you’re his, which you reckon is not. 

Then again, you might take that back, because while everyone greets you warmly, Jungkook being ignored, which makes you giggle and him growl under his breath.

You didn’t expect clubbing with Jungkook to look like this–sitting in a private room with his friends, drinking quietly. There are no strippers or other women around, which makes you wonder why he even wanted you here in the first place.

The conversation between them is lively, but you don’t join in, not because it isn’t interesting, but because you don’t fully understand it. Jungkook’s fingers drawing soothing circles on your stomach and thighs don’t help either, as you sink deeper into his embrace, a light purr escaping you, you can’t seem to hold back due to the liquor coursing through your bloodstream. 

It’s when Namjoon calls your name for the second time that you snap back to attention.

“Pardon?”

“I was asking if there’s anything in this conversation that interests you.”

That’s your chance to mess with Jungkook, play on his instincts the way he played on yours earlier.

“Hmm,” you pretend to think, dragging it out. “Well, there’s something I’ve always wondered.”

The men around you seem intrigued, leaning forward like they can’t wait to hear what you have to say. Even Jungkook shifts slightly under you, tilting his head to get a better look at your face.

“I’ve always wondered if this really is triggering or not,” you say with a wicked grin. Taking a deep breath, you tip your head back for dramatic effect and let out a howl.

It’s nowhere near a real wolf’s howl–too high-pitched, too low–but you feel Jungkook tense underneath you, his fingers digging into your thighs, while the others barely hold back their laughter.

And then, it happens. Jungkook, unable to hold back any longer, throws his head back and howls with you. The room erupts in chaos, everyone laughing while you clutch your stomach, trying not to explode with laughter, as Jungkook howls uncontrollably.

You’re sure you hear other wolf hybrids answering his call from the dance floor, which only makes the laughter in the room louder.

When Jungkook finally finishes, he slumps back into the cushions, his eyes closed as if he regrets ever bringing you here.

“We’re leaving,” he mutters flatly, clearly annoyed.

“Why? We’re having so much fun. Aren’t you having fun, love?” you tease.

His eyes snap open, locking onto yours, and suddenly, you fall silent. 

He never looked at you like that, like you were someone else, no longer having the privileges you once took for granted.

You don’t waste time standing up, Jungkook following suit. You can’t bring yourself to meet anyone’s gaze, don’t  even dare to say goodbye as you’re led out of the room by your wrist, the noise of the club grating on your ears.

Halfway through the crowd, some spider hybrid yells over the music, “Yo Jungkook, nice bitch you got there!” Jungkook releases your wrist for a moment, just long enough to pull out his glock and shoot the hybrid dead with a clean headshot.

Screams erupt and bodies start shifting in panic, but Jungkook’s hand is back around your wrist in seconds, dragging you out of the club in silence.

Once in his car, with him buckling you up and settling into the driver’s seat, you don’t need to look at him to know how furious he is. He drives like a maniac, halving the time it took to get there.

Soon you’re back at the penthouse and still unsure how to handle the situation. Apologising seems pointless.

“Bedroom,” Jungkook growls, and though you only gave him a taste of his own medicine, you know you’ve crossed a line you now wish you hadn’t.

But your own anger begins to boil again. Not just because of your own humiliation, but because he won’t let you leave.

You follow a seething Jungkook, your footsteps quick and angry, and when you enter the bedroom right behind him, you slam the door shut with a loud bang.

Jungkook turns, hands on his hips. “How dare you humiliate me in public?”

“Oh, fuck off, Jungkook. You humiliated me first.”

“We were alone! And we both had fun!” He barks, raising his hands as if that somehow makes his argument stronger.

“And those were just your friends!”

“Friends?! I trusted you!”

“It wasn’t that bad! Stop exaggerating.” You roll your eyes and move to head into the bathroom, but Jungkook’s having none of it. He strides towards you and tosses you onto the bed.

Still bouncing from the force, you mock him. “What’re you gonna do now, hm?”

“I’d like to fucking teach you a lesson.”

Fine, let him. You push your legs up, pull off your underwear, and spread your legs, showing your cunt to him as if ready to just get over with it. But Jungkook doesn’t move. He doesn’t even look down—just stares straight into your eyes. His gaze as hurt and defeated as yours.

“Come on, fuck me! What are you waiting for?!”

Jungkook’s shoulders slump, his eyes drop briefly to the floor as he shakes his head. When he looks back at you, all the fight’s gone.

“I’m never going to fuck you like some bitch, kitten.” He sighs, then turns towards the door. “I’m taking the couch tonight.”

Today’s the day, you can feel it. You’ve been preparing for this for so long, playing the perfect little kitten Jungkook sees you as since your fight, that you’re sure he won’t suspect a thing. He’s been gone for two days now, leaving you alone at his penthouse with all his goons, but you don’t mind.

Honestly, it’s the best thing he could have done for you, so it’s now or never.

It’s just past midnight when you know that his guards and maids have gone to sleep, always leaving just Oliver behind. An ant hybrid, a rookie, who’s more incompetent in this world than you are, and that says a lot.

You reckon he’s fallen asleep in front of the CCTV screens, leaving you with an open door to freedom. Literally. 

Taking the elevator to the bottom floor isn’t an option, but the garage is the perfect place to start. You’ve scanned the cameras down there and covered the outside multiple times when Jungkook would often bring you with him, knowing where the possible blind spots might be.

And true to your assumptions, there’s no one you encounter—not a soul but your hurried footsteps echoing in the cold, wide parking lot.

You don’t really know how you’ll get hundreds of miles back home, but for now, you just need to get away. Ducking into the bushes right in front of the building, you try to make out how many goons are stationed by the entrance.

Spotting just two owl hybrids—which isn’t ideal but could be worse—you try to move silently through the bush, getting as close to the pavement as possible. Taking one more glance at the owls, you brace yourself to run, counting down in your head until you yank the leaves aside and sprint as fast as your feet can carry you across the street, into an alley you’d never normally go near.

At first, you’re not sure if you’re being followed, knowing that owl hybrids are far too quiet to hear, especially with your alarmingly fast heartbeat and panting drowning out all other noises. Still, you strain your cat ears, willing them to swivel backward, but again, there’s only silence.

You try to look behind you, but there’s no one—no one chasing after you—and it’s this distraction that makes you miss the rock in your path, your foot hitting it with a sharp thud as you roll over. You manage to stop the motion quickly, landing on one foot and your hands as you regain your balance and clarity.

It’s so odd that no one’s after you, especially when Jungkook’s such a possessive, obsessive freak. It doesn’t add up. It was just too easy.

Straightening up, you glance back down the alleyway where you came from. Still seeing no movement, you turn around—only to bump into a hard chest.

“Miss me?”

You try to turn and run again, but it’s no use. Jungkook is so much faster and stronger than you, reaching you in barely three steps.

“Let go of me!”

You thrash against his hold as if it would make any difference, but it doesn’t. He throws you over his shoulder like a doll and starts walking leisurely back to the building, as if it’s just another day.

“No can do, kitten.”

“Jungkook, I swear to god, put me the fuck down!”

You try to kick him in the stomach, but he just restrains your feet with his free hand. So hitting his back it is—but who are you kidding? It’s more of a massage for him than a beating.

“Or what?” Jungkook snickers, and you see red.

“Or I’ll beat the shit out of you!”

That makes him belt out a laugh you’ve never heard from him before—high-pitched and so beautiful that you’d fall in love with him in any other situation but this. His laughter is so intense that you bob uncontrollably on his shoulder, and there’s really nothing you can do but pout angrily, accepting defeat.

“I fucking hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, I fucking loathe you.”

Jungkook just keeps snickering, snickering as he enters the building with everyone watching, snickering as he enters the elevator, nearly hitting your head on the closing doors, and snickering when he finally reaches his bedroom and gently sets you down.

However, his snickering stops when he sees your thunderous face, rage dripping from your eyes as your claws protrude over your crossed arms.

“I want to go home.”

“There’s no other home now but this one. Accept it.”

“Why don’t you just mark me and control me?! Huh?!”

“Because I know I don’t need to.”

But you see it differently and so you scream with all your might “Fucking let me leave, Jungkook!”

“No.”

At that, you charge at him, grabbing his throat and shoving him against the wall. You can’t keep living like this. You just can’t, not when your family and friends are desperately waiting for you to come back.

Jungkook doesn’t fight back, doesn’t defend himself. He just lets you strangle him, his arms hanging limp at his sides, eyes reddening from the pressure but still pleading for you to stop. It throws you for a loop because, frankly, his eyes—always soft, always showing every emotion he feels—have never betrayed his true intentions.

“Please don’t poison your soul by killing someone,” he croaks out, and that’s all it takes for you to push yourself away from him as if burnt.

Jungkook bends over, violent coughs escaping his reddened throat. You feel guilty, disgusted at what you’ve become, and you fear he’s changed you forever.

You collapse to your knees, utterly helpless as you try not to hyperventilate from the adrenaline.

“I’m sorry.” Jungkook, by now recovered but with a hoarse voice, kneels in front of you, taking your trembling hands and running his thumbs over your knuckles. “I truly am.”

“For what?”

You turn your head upwards to look at him, to see if he’s telling the truth. You’re sure he is, because the hurt in his eyes mirrors your own.

“Because even if I gave you the world, I couldn’t let you go back to that joke of a family.”

“What?” The word leaves your lips in a breath, confusion growing with every second as Jungkook’s eyes turn more livid.

“You got kidnapped because your parents sold you off, kitten.”

“No…” You pull your hands from his, crawling backwards as if to escape the truth—the truth written all over his face. “You’re lying.”

“I wish I were, kitten.”

You wish he were too. 

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • masterlist • 6

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[sunarc]

Cw: afab reader, reader gets called girl, degradation, oral f receiving, mentions of geto, please don’t confuse this with real love lol, dub con in a way, please read the warnings, 1.3k words

Gojo x reader

Bully Gojo who loves the look on your face when you’re on the verge of tears. He’ll do anything he can just to see you pouting with tears brimming your eyes. Him and Geto make it their job to see you on the verge of breaking down almost every day. Geto not as much as Gojo though. Gojo likes to take things far, sometimes too far. He likes to watch you beg for your things back jumping up and down to grab it when he holds it above your head knowing you’d never reach it. The way your tits look bouncing as you jump makes him feral. Geto tends to watch and mock your pleads from the sidelines. He loves to slap the books out your hand and watch you bend over to pick them up revealing the pink panties you wear. The pair enjoy watching with tilted heads and an identical smirk. His favorite thing to do is bother you in class when he finally gets you all to himself.  He picks and bothers you the entire class pleased with how you sit with a frustrated look plastered on your face yet making no move to call for the teacher. He loves that about you. He can do whatever he wants and you’ll just take it. 

“What are you thinking wearing this short skirt to school?” he smirks staring at you with his head in the palm of his hand. 

His fingers play with the hem of your skirt occasionally dipping underneath to brush against your thigh too close to your core. 

“Don’t tell me you were trying to impress some boy?” he laughs attracting a few stares from others in the class. 

You push his hand away suddenly embarrassed.

“I’m not-” you start.

“I can’t believe my Y/N-chan is such a nasty girl” he chuckles lowly “You probably like getting stared at, bending over to pick up your books, swaying your hips when you walk. How slutty.”

You want to melt into the desk, a mix of embarrassment and frustration suddenly capturing your tongue. You want to defend yourself and explain that this was the only skirt you had left but your mind is too caught up in him calling you ‘his’. You turned away from him not wanting him to see the tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. His words sting yet you can’t help the warmth that flows through your body as his fingers dance against your thigh.

“You too good to talk to me now?” his voice feigns innocence as he leans over to see your face and lets out a gasp. His face is full of joy watching the tears glide down your cheeks.

“You crying?” he laughs

You push him away and quickly wipe the stray tear.

“How silly”

It’s the last thing he says to you for the rest of the class. Once class is over you rush to the door not paying attention to how is eyes follow you with pure hunger. 

Gojo is quick to find you at the end of the school day. The same devilish smirk playing on his lips as he grabs your books walking away. 

“Gojo” you yell after him in the half empty hall.

“Come get it since you want it so bad” he doesn't even look at you as he walks around the corner. 

You follow with a huff. Your feet stomp around the corner only to see him entering a dark classroom. 

“Gojo stop playing around” anger begins to boil in you. 

You stomp into the classroom to see him sitting on a desk reading your notebook. You’re quick to run over snatching the book from him. 

“It’s not nice to snatch” he hums getting up from the desk and walking closer to you. With each step he takes towards you you take one back from him. 

“You have really nice handwriting by the way” he smirks.

You back into a desk and Gojo closes in on you leaving you with nowhere to go. 

“And that was a really nice doodle of me” 

He was now close enough to feel the way you let out shaky breathes. His hand move under your thighs to lift you onto the desk. 

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” 

His finger glides against your jaw line to your chin lifting your head to look at him. 

“Who would’ve thought these panties were getting so soaked from being pushed around” his tone was teasing. 

His hand slid under your skirt coming close to your heat. Your breathes were coming out shaky. You want to speak but the feeling of his hand inching closer to your core leaves you stuck. 

“Spread your legs for me let me see how nasty you really are?” he chuckles helping you to spread your legs wider. His hand pull your skirt back to reveal your panties. There’s lust filling his eyes. His hands pull your panties down watching a string of slick follow like syrup. 

“Oh you really are a freak” he laughs “Look at that” his wide eyes gaze at the damp panties before slipping them into his pocket. 

His hands wrap around your face pulling you in for a kiss. The kiss is rough and filled with hunger. Its wet, with teeth but it leaves you desperate for more. He pulls away dragging you to the edge of the desk.

“Let’s see if your taste as good as you look” he says kneeling to your core.

Gojo’s tongue slides between your folds earning him a low mewl from you. You let out a deep sigh. His tongue feels warm, something you’ve never felt before. He licks at your clit hungrily. He’s needy for you. His groans vibrate against you. He’s messy sloppily lapping at your pussy. Loud sounds fill the room and you can only hope the halls are empty. 

“Please” you’re cut off by your own moan. 

Your hands move to grip his hair pushing his face deeper into your warmth. Gojo makes no rejections. If you want him you can have him. He presses wet kisses everywhere

“Such a needy slut” he moans as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh “ Practically fucking begging for me” he growls.

You would’ve never thought that you would have the Satoru Gojo between your legs devouring you like it was his last meal. 

“Say my name” he demands as he licks long trails up and down your folds. 

“Tell me how much you love having my tongue fuck you like this.”

Gojo is greedy for you. He’s desperate to have you in every way possible. He’d never admit that to you though. For now he’s content with you being his sweet little fuck toy to use whenever he pleases. Your pleads fill the room. Any composure you have left is completely gone. Your moans filled the room as you desperately clng onto Gojo whining about how good he’s making you feel. Your moans are music to his ears. Something he has been craving to hear for so long. He can’t stop himself,not even when your shaking, crying out his name begging him to slow down. He pulls away breathing heavy watching the way you try to catch your breath. It’s a perfect sight. You can barely stop shaking, your heart feels like its beat a thousand beats per second. 

“You really are a nasty girl aren’t you” he chuckles as he stands to be eye level with you. 

“Made a mess all over my face” he brings you in for another kiss this time soft and quick. 

“Gotta go Suguru is gonna kill me for being this late” he chuckles as he walks aways leaving you in the dark classroom. He turns to you giving a menacing smile.

“I cant wait to see how messy you get for us next time”

[theemporium]

🐈‍⬛ w/Norstappen being like :O the first time their witchy s/o does magic in front of them pretty pls 🙏🏻 ?

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

Despite the boys knowing your secret, they had never actually seen you perform any magic.

They had made plenty of jokes in the meantime. It was mostly Lando, but Max had his moments too. They would affectionately call you countless famous witch and wizard names. They would joke about you throwing them in a cauldron if they pissed you off. Countless pictures of brushes and brooms were sent to you on a daily basis. Sometimes they would even joke about the fact Sassy and Jimmy only liked you because of a witch’s connection to cats. 

It was safe to say their knowledge on witchcraft was limited, but despite their jokes and remarks, they did want to learn about it. It was a massive part of your life, of your identity too. They wanted to know every part of you, they wanted to love every part of you—even if the jokes wouldn’t necessarily stop. 

You had been teaching them things in passing, explaining anything when you noticed the way their brows would furrow in confusion. Whether it was when you were making a list of ingredients you needed (“No, Lando, I can’t just buy them from the grocery store.”) or preparing weeks in advance for a certain spell (“Max, baby, I love you but witchcraft isn’t just about shoving things into a bubbling pot.”). 

But they had never actually seen you use magic until that night. 

You had been so caught up in your work that you hadn’t even realised the time until a message pinging from your phone broke you out of your concentration. You swore under your breath, rushing towards the kitchen to get started on dinner in the hopes it wouldn’t be too late. After all, it had been your night to cook.

You hadn’t even heard the boys come in. You were rushing around the kitchen like a madman, pots and pans and ingredients flying around the room. There were pots bubbling on the stove, there was a knife cutting vegetables on a cutting board, there were unused dishes being washed in the sink and at the centre of the chaos stood you, cookbook in one hand whilst the other orchestrated the world around you as you read through the recipe. 

“Holy shit.”

Your head snapped to the side to find both boys standing in the doorway, jaws slack and eyes wide as they watched the scene in front of them with the same level of shock and excitement as kids coming down to presents under the Christmas tree. 

“Hey,” you breathed out and gave them a sheepish smile. “I’m sorry, dinner will be ready soon but I got caught up in—”

“You really are like Hermione Granger!” Lando exclaimed, an excited laugh as he stepped into the kitchen, ducking when a carrot whooshed over his head. 

“I—” You blinked, a little taken aback. 

“Do you do this every time?” Max asked as he followed the Brit in, only to pause for a second. “Why have you never done this in front of us before?” 

“Yeah, this is so fucking cool!” Lando grinned, turning to you with a glimmer in his eyes. 

“I…didn’t realise it was something you wanted to see so badly,” you admitted with a small laugh, though something in your chest warmed at how enthusiastic they were about your magic. A small part of you feared they would be scared by it.

“You’re controlling all of this?” Max questioned.

“Every single thing,” you confirmed with a nod.

“How the fuck do you do that?” Lando murmured as his eyes focused on the plates setting themselves on the dining table connected to the kitchen. 

“Practice,” you said with a smile before leaning in to peck his cheek. “I’ll show you more after dinner.”

Lando’s eyes lit up. “Really?”

You nodded. 

“Maybe even pick something in that grimmy thing you have,” Max added, looking a little sheepish about his request even if he tried to sound confident.

“My grimoire, baby,” you corrected with a small laugh.

“Yes, that. Magic cookbook,” he said with a completely serious face. “Show us what our girl can do.”

“Well, right now your girl wants to eat dinner,” you snorted. “But if Lando eats his greens, I’ll show you a few spells after dinner.”

“This is bribery.”

“Lando, I will shove that broccoli down your throat if I have to.”

Lando gaped at the Dutchman before rolling his eyes. “It’s not my first choice but geez, fine.”

.

[scribere-flores]

Sabo x Reader

~Just as a hypothetical question~

Part 5. Other Parts Word count: 3,8k words Short summary: Reader is preparing her escape, slowly losing it over her confusing feelings. Sabo is in his stalker era. AN: Dear God, I don't know what took over me when writing this. Let me begin with saying I don't condone stalking irl, this is just a silly self-indulgent fic. There is also mentions of a knife at one point, more as a joke, but it's there. Still nothing graphic. Smut will come in the next one, which will also be the last part. Thank you for reading!💕

MDNI 18+

(This man is way too pretty for his own good)

___

Almost three days had passed since Y/N became aware of Sabo’s true identity. And of the real threat he posed to her. He was dangerous, not just because he probably could crush her windpipe with little to no effort.

No, the real reason Sabo was so dangerous was because of his goddamn charm. Always helpful, always making her flustered. Always making her laugh against her will. It was still impossible for her to keep it together when she was near him.

He was playing a sick, sadistic game with her feelings. He wanted to kill her for god sake! And, even though those horrid facts were clear to her, Y/N’s heart still wanted to jump out of her chest every time she saw him.

And that was probably saying more about how messed up she was. Desperately clinging to the first person that ever showed her concern, even though she knew it was fake. Pathetic.

She kept having this one recurring dream. Being alone in a dark room, until the door suddenly opens, and Sabo walks with a smug grin on his face.

He stands behind her, places her wrists behind her back, and then proceeds to let his hands travel all over her body. Cold leather from his gloves caressing her skin as he presses soft kisses down her neck and back.

His movements growing more impatient as he takes a strong grip around her hair, pulling her against him. Then, just before the dream ends, his other hand snakes around her neck, cutting the air from entering her lungs.

And it excites her! Y/N always wakes up feeling hot and tingly after that dream, which means that something must be seriously wrong with her.

The man wants to kill her and she gets excited by the thought of him choking her?! That can’t be normal, it just can’t.

Besides her internal crises that she still had the hots for her future potential murderer, everything else was going as planned. 

After spending a half-day crying over the fact that the handsome, cruel man had tricked her just for his own pleasure, Y/N finally pulled herself together and started planning her escape. She was not willingly staying in this cursed base just to later be dragged to the execution stand.

So she had made a list, things she needed to secure her safety once she left. All the things she had spent the last few days gathering. Things that now were securely kept in a bag in her closet. 

She had also visited the small library more than once, reading every book on wilderness survival she could find. Memorizing pictures of what plants were safe to eat and which ones she should avoid. It wouldn’t exactly be ideal if she ran away from torture and her own murder, just to then die of food poisoning.

Y/N had done all these things, and she was painfully aware of the fact that she had been watched. 

Sabo was always near, following her like some curious cat, trying to figure out what the mouse he was hunting was doing. She was the mouse in this scenario, and it was starting to get on her last nerve. 

He looked amused the entire time too, huge grin on his face, probably getting some twisted sense of pleasure from watching her from afar. It was annoying, and Y/N was pretty sure stalking counted as a crime. But so was trying to overthrow the World Government, so Sabo might just not care that he was breaking the law.

It didn’t matter anyways, she had already gathered everything she needed and her planned escape was happening tomorrow.

She was currently pacing back and forth in her room, trying to figure out if she had forgotten about something. 

Who was she kidding, she most definitely had.

She hadn’t stepped foot outside the castle gates her entire life before two weeks ago, and now she was planning to survive out in the wilderness all by herself. It was a recipe for disaster.

But if the choice was between dying of hypothermia in freedom, or in the hands of the Revolutionary Army and her handsome tormentor, Y/N would choose freezing cold freedom everyday of the week.

Suddenly, her dark thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door.

“Jane Doe, you in there?” An obnoxious, honey-sweet voice could be heard on the other side.

Hate that stupid nickname.

He seriously needed to stop doing this. For the last couple of mornings, at the same time everyday, Sabo had knocked on her door, asking if she was there.

And Y/N never answered, pretending that she wasn’t in the room. He usually stayed outside for a few minutes before he left, which was probably going to be the case today too.

She heard Sabo let out a deep sigh.

“I don’t know if you’re there, but I’m coming in.” He stated, like he wasn’t about to invade the last personal space she had at this godforsaken base.

Goddamnit… She had locked the door, right?  

No, this wasn’t the time to take any chances, she needed to hide. Who knew what god awful thing he would do to her if he found her.

Y/N quickly scanned the room for a hiding spot. Under the bed was too obvious, even she knew that. As her eyes landed on the small built-in closet, she heard the doorknob starting to turn. She didn’t have the time to be picky, she needed to hide, now!

Just as she had slid the closet shut, the bedroom door flew open. The small wooden planks of the closet door barely gave her any vision of the room, but the gap was wide enough to see Sabo mindlessly walk in. Not a care in the world, like he belonged in there.

‘He wishes.’ Y/N thought as she rolled her eyes.

Then she noticed that he was looking at the closet, straight at her, with a serious look that spelled nothing but trouble. She could swear that her heart was trying to crack her ribcage open by how hard it was beating.

She put her hands over her mouth, careful to not make a sound, as Sabo’s eyes lingered on her hiding spot for a few more seconds. Then an amused grin spread over his face, before he turned around and started to look around her room.

Dear God, that had been a close call.

“Are you hiding from me, Angel?” Sabo chuckled, bending down to look under the bed.

Since his blatant fake confession he had called her that from time to time. Some new way to play tricks on her mind for sure. And Y/N always berated herself when she heard it, because it made her stupid heart flutter every time.

Seriously, what was wrong with her?

Besides studying up on how to survive on her own, she had read a few books on psychology during her visits to the library. In those she had learned about this thing called *Stockholm Syndrome*, basically when a captive believes they are in love with their capturer. 

And Y/N had let out a sigh of relief when she read that. It explained every warm feeling she had for the man that she was 95% sure wanted to chop her head off in front of a crowd. The other 5%, well… that was the dumb sliver of hope that still lingered in the back of her mind. 

A sliver of hope that she consciously ignored. She wasn’t in her right mind, she had been manipulated by that handsome devil, and the strange thoughts she had about him couldn’t be trusted.

She had to stick to what she knew, and that was that Revolutionaries hated Nobles with a burning passion. At least, that had to be the case when the revolutionary in question was their Second in Command.

The closet walls were starting to feel cramped as she continued to watch Sabo mindlessly prance around her bedroom. He picked up her pillow, brought it to his face and let out a low groan as he took a deep inhale through his nose, making Y/N really question the man’s sanity. Was he trying to memorize her scent in case he had to hunt her down? 

What was he? A goddamn bloodhound or something?

She let out a quiet scoff when he put the pillow back, seeing a satisfied look on his face. She shouldn't have done that.

His eyes zeroed in on her again, a wicked smile spreading over his lips, making Y/N forget how to breathe. 

A shiver went down her spine as she watched Sabo move closer, stopping right outside the closet. He was so close she could feel him towering over her through the door. 

“Are you in here, Angel? Please answer if you are.” 

Dear God, please don’t open it.

Someone was apparently listening to her prayer, since he abruptly turned around, when Y/N was just seconds from passing out due to the lack of air in her lungs.

“Bummer, guess she’s not here then.” Sabo said in a monotone voice, putting his hand to his cheek in a dramatic manner.

He started to walk towards the door. She couldn’t believe it, she was actually going to get through this without being found.

Then, Sabo stopped in the middle of his step, right as he walked by her dresser. He carefully opened the top draw, which wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all.

“Hmm… I might as well since I’m already here.” He snickered as he took something out and stuffed it in his pocket, quickly leaving the room right after.

As soon as the bedroom door closed, Y/N fell out of the closet and landed on the floor. Too shocked from what she just had witnessed.

“Did- did he just steal my underwear?” She whispered to herself, as she felt a warm flush spread over her face.

Was Sabo a pervert?

Because that would explain sooo much. She laid on the floor, pondering on her theory for a few moments, before she rolled over on her back and let out a weird, nervous laugh.

“Yes, definitely a pervert… Just gonna add that to the list of reasons why he needs to be avoided at all cost.” Y/N concluded, questioning how she had gotten herself in this situation to begin with.

___

So fucking angelic.

There was no other way of describing her. Even though she had actively been avoiding him for the past few days and making him watch her from afar. 

But Sabo could forgive that. She was obviously planning something, and the most optimistic part of himself had convinced him that it was going to be a surprise.

He didn’t know what kind of surprise yet, but he looked forward to it. A little too much in fact.

He had watched his Angel gather all sorts of things, swiping snacks from the pantry when she thought no one was looking. Snatching blankets and other fabrics from the laundry, candles and matches from the storage. 

All things that were needed for a romantic date. 

Sabo still wasn’t sure why she needed all the tools she stole from the supply closet, nor did he understand what she was going to use a tarp for.

But he almost lost his shit yesterday when he saw her sneak a rope into her bag. If his, quite frankly, dirty mind was right and she wanted him to tie her up with it, he might have to marry her on the spot. 

The knife however, that was still a bit concerning… But hey, he was willing to try out whatever she had in mind at least once.

No matter what she was doing, these past few days had convinced him.

She had continued to play their little game, even though the rules had changed a bit. AND, she was planning a romantic surprise for him. That girl understood him so well.

She liked him, maybe just as much as he liked her, if that even was possible.

Sabo knew his obsession was starting to get a little out of hand. Or in all honesty, “a little” would be an understatement. 

He knew that what he was doing wasn’t exactly normal. Watching her go about her day, keeping tabs on where she was, at what time in the morning she was leaving her bedroom and when she usually returned. Putting it in a more brutal way, he was stalking her.

God- that girl brought out dark things in him he wasn’t even aware were there before. Last night he spent at least two hours convincing himself that, sneaking into her room through her window while she was sleeping, wasn’t a good idea. 

It wasn’t, he knew that. No matter how much that girl had messed with his moral compass, he knew that it would be crossing a line.

But he just wanted to hear the sweet voice he had been deprived of hearing for the last few days, even if it was her yelling at him to get out.

That’s why he went to see her this morning, to talk to her. Not about anything special, he just wanted to see her pretty mouth move, until his mind was filled with nothing but the sweet sound of her voice.

Sabo knew she had been in there, observation haki really becoming handy in these kinds of situations. But she hid in her closet when he stepped into her room.

And if she wanted to play Hide and Seek, who was he to deprive her of that fun? 

Plus, he had gotten a little prize for playing along.

Still, things had started to become a little boring for him.

At first, it had been exciting seeing her turn a corner every time he was near. Watching her look over her shoulder to see if he was there. It was twisted- but fuck- just knowing she was constantly thinking about him brought him so much joy.

Even if she was doing it in an attempt to avoid him, Sabo couldn’t be mad about it. She was obviously still trying to muster up the courage to face him after his blatant confession.

It was cute.

He had imagined her confessing her feelings for him so many times at this point. Nervous stutters leaving her mouth, a flustered blush spreading over her face.

God- Just the thought made him want to do unspeakable things to that poor girl. 

And in any normal case, Sabo was nothing but patient. With her however, not so much. 

Like previously stated, watching her had been fun for a while. But he was done with just watching now, he wanted to be with her. Being close to her, talking to her, teasing her. Seeing her smile, laugh or just resting peacefully on his chest.

So, at this moment he was in the library, hiding behind a bookshelf and going over his options on how to best approach her.

Jane Doe was sitting at a table a bit further away, reading a book in peace. Looking absolutely angelic.

Besides the two of them, the rest of the room was empty. And dammit, if there hadn’t been so many unresolved issues that needed to be sorted out first, he would probably pin her to that table right this moment.

Hitching that cute, little skirt up over her hips as he left kisses up and down her gorgeous legs. Teasing her to the brink of insanity until she begged him to touch her. Eating her out like a man starved for food-

Yeah, that was definitely not happening yet.

The second best option was to go over there, trying to make her flustered enough to at least blush. Which shouldn’t be too hard to achieve.

So Sabo did just that, walking over with a statement that was suggestive enough in mind. He stopped right behind her chair, bending down close to her ear, feeling a bit amused when he saw her flinch.

“You know, I had this dream last night- and fuck- your hands felt so soft against my skin. Like an Angel touching my very soul.” He said in a low voice, blowing a puff of hot air against her neck.

It was true, he really dreamt that last night. He had been kinda pissed off when he woke, not wanting the wonderful dream to end.

And he knew how much his little nickname affected her, she was so bad at hiding her true feelings.

“Dear God, why?” The girl asked under her breath, making Sabo chuckle as he walked over to the other side of the table, sitting down across from her.

“Why? Cause you’re cute, and funny, and ignoring me. So you’re obviously my type.” He stated, watching her mindlessly turn to the next page in her book.

“I’m sorry, what were you saying?” She answered, looking up at him for the first time.

“Perfect.” Sabo sighed, getting completely lost in her eyes.

He barely had the chance to catch the pretty blush that spread over her face, before she turned her head down.

But it was there, he saw it, and it made his chest fill with pride. No matter how hard she tried to ignore him, he could still make her flustered anytime he wanted to.

“Are you bothered by me being here?” He asked, giving her a teasing smile.

“Yes. I want to be alone.” She said curtly in response, not paying him more attention than necessary.

It was selfish, and probably a bit dumb. But Sabo wanted her attention to be on him, and not on some stupid book. What was so interesting about it anyways, for her to not look at him? He was way more interesting-

God, he really needed to seek professional help, didn't he? He was jealous over a fucking book.

“What are you reading anyway?” He scoffed, failing to keep his displeasure in.

“None of your business.” She snapped back, voice deprived of any warmth.

Shit, was she annoyed? That couldn’t be good…

“Why are you so snappy today?” Sabo asked, needing to know if all of it was just in his head.

“I’m not.” She bit out, jaw visibly clenching. 

If it was one thing Sabo took pride in, it was that he was good at reading people. But not this girl apparently, making her an exception in yet another way. 

He must have fucked up big during the last couple of days for her to be this mad with him. Was it the stalking? Had he taken it too far? 

“Yes you are. Did I do something to make you upset? I’ll try to fix it if you tell me.” He said, trying to reach for her hand, but she quickly moved it away.

“I said I’m not. Just drop it.” 

Was this their first fight? 

Sabo might not have been in any real long term relationship before, but he wanted this to work. He needed this to work, because he wasn’t sure if he could recover from being rejected by her. 

He knew that communication was important in any healthy relationship, so her avoiding the topic wasn’t going to cut it.

“I will drop it, if you tell me what’s wrong. I don’t want you to be angry at me and-”

“Can you just back the fuck off and leave me alone?” She said with an irritated tone, looking up at him with fire in her eyes.

Oh fuck, she’s mad mad.

She swore… she actually swore. That was a word Sabo thought he never would hear leave his Angel's beautiful mouth.

Was this about the underwear? He knew she had been hiding in the closet when he “borrowed” them, but he didn’t think she would be this angry about it.

“Is this about what I took from your room? Because I was going to give-”

“IT’S NOT ABOUT THE FUCKING UNDERWEAR!”

“Okay, so I must have done something else then… I'm sorry?” He said, feeling his heart sink to his stomach.

She didn’t say anything more. She just let out a frustrated groan as she slammed the book shut, leaving it on the table and walked away. Leaving him alone with nothing but his own thoughts.

Goddamnit!

He messed up, this was not how he wanted things to go. Had he been wrong the entire time? Had she actually been mad at him, and was that the reason she avoided him to begin with? Had they not just been playing their usual silly game?

Fuck, maybe had he come on too strong three days ago. He did choke her, so it wouldn’t be surprising if that was the reason. But she said she liked it, right?

Sabo was about to go crazy, trying to figure out what he did wrong, when his eyes landed on the green cover of the book she had been reading.

He picked it up, curiosity getting the better of him.

“ *Outdoor Survival for Beginners*- what the actual?” He flipped through the pages, as something clicked in his brain. “Shit-”

Jane Doe was planning on running away…

It all made sense now. Why she avoided him, why she had gathered all those different things. Why she had been so defensive just moments ago.

(Why she hadn’t told him she liked him too.)

She was leaving, and she didn’t want anything left behind. It made sense, he would do the same thing if he knew he was leaving. It was plain cruel to confess your feelings to someone, just to be gone a few days later.

That’s why he had confessed to her. He wasn’t exactly planning on leaving her anytime soon, and he wanted her to know that.

Still, the only thing that didn’t make sense was her reason. Why would she want to run away?

She liked it here, Sabo saw how happy she looked whenever she helped around the base. How well she got along with Koala. How peaceful she had looked that morning when she slept on his chest.

In fact, why was she even hiding her identity to begin with? He hadn’t thought about it more than in passing, his mind usually being too preoccupied with holding his urges back around her.

Something wasn’t right…

“I might have to speed some things up.” Determination took over him.

Her plan was batshit crazy to begin with. She couldn’t even cook, how the fuck was she going to survive alone in the woods? She would die, hungry, freezing and alone, within a couple of days.

Sabo couldn’t stand the thought of losing someone he cared for again. Not after Ace-

No. This wasn’t the time to dwell on that. 

He had a few very urgent house calls to make.

___

Tag list: @nymeriiiia

[xmalereader]

Miguel O’Hara x Black Cat! Male Reader || 4 ||

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|| Masterlist ||

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Authors note: Hello Everyone! I am back from another vacation…this boy be traveling a lot, but I was able to get part four done of this little mini series! I also want to thank everyone for 7.2k, because holy shit I gained 200 followers in less than a week. I don’t know how that happened but thank you! Also enjoy this new shot!

Summary: Miles and Miguel are a little stuck during a mission and Miles is hesitant to call for back up until a familiar anomaly changes things.

Warnings: No spoilers, fighting, language, parenting skills, hobie is the goat, fluff, black cat anomaly, protective reader and Miguel, some hints of Rio knowing about Miles and Miguel’s identity, short.

Word count: 2.0k

— || Part One || Part Two || Part Three ||

—

“Ah!”

Miles is throw against Miguel who catches him easily as the two tumble to the ground. The teen lying on top of the older Spider as they groan in pain. “How are these guys not giving up?” Miles grumbled out as he slowly gets up with the help of Miguel. The two have taken notice of an unusual Anomaly in the wrong universe. The two expected it to only be one only to encounter four on the other side when entering the universe. Both Miles and Miguel have been at it for hours, growing tired and restless.

“I think we should—“

“No.” Said Miguel, shutting down Miles suggest.

“I just think—“

“No.”

“Do you always say no?”

“No.” The sudden bickering catches the old Spider off guard as Miles grins under his mask, quick to dodge a piece of rumble heading towards them as the teenager swings after the anomaly and lands onto another building. “All I’m saying is that we should bring some back up!” Shouted Miles, grunting as he’s grabbed by the leg and dragged down from where he stood, causing a scream to escape his lips.

The teen comes face to face with Doctor Octavias, someone that he’s very familiar with in his own universe.

“We don’t need it!” Miguel shouts back as he attacks one of the other anaomlies, clearing not listening to Miles who struggled with his own problem as he used his electric static to try and malfunction Doctor Octavias arms. He escapes from his grasp and climbs higher up the building. “Lyla!” He calls out to the artificial intelligence.

“Yes, baby spider?”

Miles groans at the name.

“Can you call for back up, please?” His eyes widen when he’s pinned down a flash of black and white in front of him as a pair of claws dig into his neck and jaw, squinting up in pain as he grunts and makes direct eye contact with a familiar outfit. “Noir?”

The figure leans closer.

“Sorry, hun you must have me confused with someone else.” The voice is feminine as Miles frowns, noticing that the cat holding him down wasn’t Noir. This was someone entirely different but yet, similar to the one he knows. “Didn’t think a kid like you would be a spider—a bit clumsy.” She taunts, holding him down as her claws dig deeper into his neck, causing the teen to wince and glare under his mask.

Miles tried to use his web against the black cat only to have his wrist pinned down, he struggles with moving as she chuckled at him and looks around. “Don’t make this your fight kid, go home before you get yourself hurt.” She warns. Miles huffs out a small laugh as he watched her closely.

Miles can’t help but think about Noir and how every black cat was the same but him and he’s able to tell the difference between her and noir. “Yeah, I don’t think so.” He looks over her shoulder, noticing the familiar portal opening up. “You don’t belong in this world and if I can’t take you back then my dad will.”

The women above him cocks her head with a confused look on her face. Before she can react a flash of black is quick to shove her off Miles, watching as she rolls with a grunt and is quick to stabilize herself. The sound of metal claws against the pavement gets Miles attention, sitting up slowly to see Noir in front of him.

He’s in a crouching position, cat like as he glared under his goggles at the women before him. “Touch my kid again and I won’t hesitate to kill you.” He growls out in warning.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the back up to arrive, both Gwen and Hobie landing next to Miles and helping him up while Noir focused on the black cat in front of him. “Help Mig with the others, this ones mine.” Noir instructs the teens, his eyes not leaving the women before him as she grins at him. “How cute, but I’m not going anywhere.” She states, launching herself at Noir as the two get into a brawl.

Miles steps back and grunts.

“Did he just punch a women?” Gwen asks when she noticed Noir punch the other black cat in the stomach.

“Equal rights, equal fights!” Hobie shouts as he jumps off the building, heading towards one of the anomalies and helping Miguel. As much we he hated it, he knew he had no choice but to help. The three teens worked together on taking down the villains, tying them up and getting rid of their weapons while Miguel worked on the one he was dealing with, using his fangs to inject the poison and numbing them from doing anything else.

“I told you I didn’t need back up.” Miguel grumbled as he drags the anomaly towards the pile of villains as Miles chuckles nervously. “Sure you didn’t, took us a few hours to try and take down one. We needed all the help we could get.” He explains, knowing how much Miguel hated admitting help when it comes towards missions like this. “Doesn’t matter—is it just you three?” He questions.

“Y/n is still dealing with a different version of himself.” Gwen points behind her back towards the roof top of one of the buildings as the four of them turned to watch the fight, noticing how Noir and Black cats movements are nearly in sync. “Five bucks that he takes her down in a minute.” Said Hobie, getting the other teens intrigued by the bet. “Bet ten that he takes her down, now!” Miles points at the scene before them as Noir grows angry, changing his way of fighting and using an old trick of his that Miguel taught him a long time ago.

“Stay down, for once!” Noir growls through gritted teeth as he gets her tied up with his grappling hook, keeping her claws far away from the wire and using the extra wire to tie her wrists together, finally getting her pinned.

Miguel hums, shrugging his shoulder. “I taught him that.” He mumbled as he swings towards the building, landing next to Noir and giving his husband a glance. “You know, I didn’t think you’d be able to take your own self down.”

“For the record, that is not me and second I learned a thing or two differently than everyone else.” Noir shot back as he leans against Miguels shoulder, feeling himself grow tired from the constant fighting while wincing in pain. Turns out that he got a few pretty good cuts from the anomaly. “We should have that checked out.” Said Miguel as his fingers touch the small wounds which only caused Noir to smile. “Nah, I’m okay I’ve been through worse.” He bends down to pick up the anomaly and carry them with towards the rest of the others as Miguel opens a portal back to base.

“Still, at least have it checked for me.” Miguel takes his own anomaly and drags them inside the portal while the others do the same. Y/n sighs softly and rolls his eyes when hearing how worried his husband is for him and knows that he shouldn’t argue with him. “Fine, I will get it checked out.” He walks through the portal that takes them back to base.

Getting assistance from the other spiders and taking the anomalies back to their own universe where they belonged while Y/n walks alongside Miguel and Miles. Y/n had noticed Miles limping with each step he took, causing him to raise a brow. “Hey.” His voice gets Miles’ attention and turns to face the older man who gently gripped his chin. “You alright? You’re limping—she didn’t hurt you did she?” Y/n’s voice suddenly growing protective as he glares, but Miles is quick to shake his head. “No, no, don’t worry this wasn’t her doing. I was dealing with one of the other anomalies and they pulled me by the leg, I should be fine soon.”

Miles give his leg a small shake and continued to walk alongside Y/n with a content smile on his face after he removes his mask when entering base. “Good, because I can’t have your mother hunting me down if she finds out what happened.” Miles groans, forgetting about his mother.

It’s been three months since Miles’ mother found out about Miles and Miguel being Spider-Man, catching the two in the act. Miles couldn’t forget the amount of laughing that Y/n did when he was told about the accident. Miles was panicking and Miguel was not happy with his husbands reaction with all of this. I took some time for Miles’ mother to grow adjusted with the idea of her son being the cities hero. She had actually threatened Miguel to keep a close eye on Miles whenever they are out on missions.

Technically, Miles is suppose to be under Miguels watch. But, he wasn’t doing a very good job at it.

“Just tell your mom that you pulled a muscle.” Y/n shrugs his shoulders when entering Miguels lab. “She’s a nurse, she will notice how I really got it.” Miles shakes his head already knowing how clever his mother was. His mother, Rio, knew about his identity along with Miguels, but she still had no idea that Miles’ mentor was the cities greatest thief. The same thief that his dad spent days trying to capture not knowing that so called thief was the same man who was invited to his families dinners.

“If Rio finds out about you, she will not be too happy to know that her son hangs around a thief.” Miguels words catch the cats attention as he gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “You wound me.” Y/n gives off a small show of being dramatic only to laugh in the end. “She can be upset about me being a thief, but she will for sure kill us back when she finds out that you married a thief and knew about it the whole time.”

Miguel froze, knowing damn well that Y/n was right.

“Then we are a very small, but dysfunctional family.” Miguel mutters out as he focused on his work, making sure that everything was left as a report regarding the anomalies and who was involved in the fight. It was very rare for Miguel to accept his feelings about having a family again, after losing his daughter and gaining another kid from Y/n was still something new to him. He’s slowly getting used to Miles and the teen was still adjusting to Miguel too.

They had their moments together and the rare times that Miguel grew protective over Miles. Y/n remembers the first time he witnessed such actions, noticing Miguels body language change. It happened when one of the spiders had the audacity to pick on Miles for being an anomaly, blaming him for the doom of universe 42 since they didn’t have a spider to protect their world. Miguel usually showed no signs of the matter of caring, doing his own job, but when the spider took things too far. Miguel stepped in and he was not happy.

Y/n still remembers the fear that he struck on the spider, telling them to focus on their job on protecting their own world and minding their own business and threatening to send them back to where they came from and cutting off access to allowing them back on base for picking on his kid.

His kid.

Even though Miles wasn’t theirs by blood, their time together made them feel like a family.

Y/n sighs softly, snapping back to reality as he approached Miles. “Alright, go on. Mama bird is waiting for you. I’d suggest heading back home before she gets worries and starts calling Miguel about your late return back home.” He gives the teen a nudge on the shoulder and tussling his hair on the way over to Miguel.

Miles chuckles. “Alright, I’m going. I’ll see you both tonight!” The teen gives them a small wave before opening a portal back to his universe and heading back home for the day, leaving both Miguel and Y/n on there own.

Y/n walks over to Miguel, standing next to his side and leaning his head against his shoulder. “I think we make great parents.”

“I don’t think sending a kid to fight off four villains is considered good parenting.”

Y/n laughs. “You were there weren’t you? That means that you were keeping an eye on him and making sure that nothing happens to him.” He points out, chin on Miguels shoulder as he watched his husband closely who rolls his eyes at him. Not saying anything and taking his silence as a small victory.

“See, we make great parents!” Y/n says with a huge smile.

Miguel can only sign deeply. “Rio is going to kill us.”

[axigailxo]

Pretty Like You | PJM (2)

part two: parties and pilates

series summary. where jimin is jealous of the beauty that is you, writes about it, and falls apart when you accidentally read it.

pairing. feminine!jimin x reader

rating. M | 18+ |

genre. enemies to lovers, feminine!jimin, self hatred au, slight identity crisis, self love journey, smut, sub! jimin, angst, fluff, heartfelt

w.c. 4.8k

warnings. heavy descriptions of self hate and self abuse later into the story, please be advised. mention of “unaliving” in this chapter.

ch summary. where oc convinces jimin to go to a frat party in an attempt to break him out of his shell

**this is part 2 of my series pretty like you, not a stand-alone

series masterlist | <-previous | next ->

“And then despite it all, she asked if I wanted to talk, can you believe it?”

It’s been a couple of days since the incident at the art room, and Jimin can’t stop ranting about it like it’s new news. He still hasn’t texted you, and it’s not like he could since he doesn’t even have your number. He could get it from you in class, but thats a little hard when he’s on a streak of skipping.

After you suggested to help him embark on a self love journey, Jimin has been so damn confused. He doesn’t know whether to jump at the opportunity, rot away in embarrassment that you read his journal, or be slightly offended that you’d suggest help when he thinks he’s just fine. Kind of.

All options are tempting, nonetheless.

Daisy, Jimin’s cat that is currently victim to listening about what happened for the hundredth time, lifts up off her soft body and saunters out of his room. What? She’s fed up.

Jimin, who is suffering from her rude and sudden exit, huffs as he debates whether he should follow up about that whole thing with you. Because despite all his options, he’s leaning more towards just avoiding you at all costs and pretending that situation never even happened.

Except he’ll remember. It’ll haunt him and his thoughts every night until he finally just addresses it.

And so that’s why he should go to class today. Maybe. Jimin squints his eyes as he contemplates and considers, ultimately deciding that coffee is the first step that should be taken. Especially since it’s way too early to have a crisis, that can wait for later. Per usual.

Making his way to his Keurig, he pops a peppermint mocha flavored pod into the top compartment followed by a little water in another compartment until he’s clicking a button to brew it.

“So now you like me,” Jimin scoffs as Daisy rubs against his ankle, excited for Jimin to give her breakfast.

Commanding to the manipulation of the feline, Jimin grabs a can of cat food out of a cupboard, internally scolding himself for being nice and buying her the expensive kind again.

Although, Jimin can’t blame Daisy for being fed up with all his predicaments. He would be too. However spilling to Daisy is much more acceptable than telling it all to his human best friend, Taehyung.

Jimin has already thought about the fact that if he spends time with you, whether it be for a self love journey or not, that’d be breaking some sort of bro code with Tae.

You’re Taehyung’s crush, and Jimin respects that. Plus it’s not like Taehyung has to worry, you’re out of Jimin’s league anyway.

However that hard on be got the other night still baffles him. He’s narrowed it down to being that you’re just attractive and he’s just a gross horny man. But not even that sounds right.

Jimin has thought about inviting Taehyung to every outing you may have together, but he can’t. How in hell would he explain to his best friend that the whole reason he’s seeing you is so that he can learn to accept himself and flaunt that feminine side of him? Let alone explain to him that you read his journal full of how much he envies and adores you at the same time. He can’t. More specifically, he won’t. Taehyung doesn’t need to meet that side of him, Jimin thinks. It’s for the better.

Jimin ponders for a second, and he hates himself for pouring his coffee into a travel cup and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He figures since he’s already keeping a secret from Tae, one more shouldn’t hurt. Plus he can’t avoid you forever. There’s really only one thing to do now.

“Eat up Daisy, I’ll be back after class.”

“Jimin? Hey!”

Standing in line at the campus’s cafe, Jimin washes over in a cold sweat as the loud call of his name attracts the attention of almost everyone near. He came here to get an additional caffeine boost before class and more importantly stall from talking to you, but it’s just his luck that you’d be here too.

“Hi,” he mutters awkwardly, eyes on the ground the second you get closer.

He’s never seen you so up-close before. He wonders if your skin has always looked so smooth.

He wishes his skin were as smooth.

“I was gonna call to ask about your no shows in class but I completely forgot to give you my number the last time we talked.”

Jimin finds this incredibly new and odd. Just a few days ago he hated you without knowing you and now you’re talking to him like a friend. It’s definitely going to take some getting used to.

“Here,” you say as you hand him your phone, a new contact page open and ready for him to fill out. “That way we can talk out of school, plus I found multiple super-helpful self esteem websites that you might li—“

“Y/N,” Jimin halts your enthusiasm. Again, way too early in the morning for this. “Can we not talk about it in such a public place?”

His tone is hushed and embarrassed, trying not to let the several eyes on them to hear that he’s struggling with self esteem. God this is so much more depressing than Jimin initially thought it’d be.

“Of course, yeah no my bad.” You rush your words, retracting your hand down before Jimin grabs the phone from you, typing his number.

“I dont expect you to waste time on me. Just text when you have absolutely nothing else to do. This isn’t important enough to occupy your schedule.”

Immediately, you frown at his words. Sure this is important. And contrary to his request, you already cleared something off of your schedule for him.

“First off, this is important. I won’t have you taking down on yourself anymore.”

Jimin so badly wants to ask why, but he won’t because that’s rude and you don’t deserve anymore rudeness from him. Not after what you read in the art room.

“Secondly, I already cancelled pilates for you. I have something else fun planned for us.”

Jimin can’t help his sudden snicker.

“What?” You ask, slightly offended.

“Nothing, it’s just funny you take pilates. Of course you do.”

You wanted to carry on with being offended, but you felt a pang of accomplishment upon getting him to laugh. Progress, you think.

“Yeah yeah,” you dismiss as you tuck your phone into your back pocket, trailing back out of the cafe. “Laugh all you want but just know that this ass didn’t grow itself!”

You: u, me, frat party tonight at 9.

Sat on the hard seats of the lecture hall, Jimin’s eyes go wide as he reads your reply to his text.

The second you sauntered out of the cafe, you were quick to text Jimin in hopes to break the tension between you two— which technically isn’t tension at all given Jimin is the only one who finds your new friendship odd. Well him and the rest of the students who saw you two talking together.

Jimin had asked what you had planned, and when you replied with frat party, he felt physically ill.

Jimin: absolutely not. sorry.

You: hear me out, it’s not even a big party

You: it’s very discreet and there’s only gonna be a couple people

Jimin locks eyes with you from across the room and mouths “no” with an adamant shake of his head. You roll your eyes before your thumbs get back to texting him.

You: we can pregame before we go so u can loosen up

You: if you’re with me, there’s nothing to worry about

Jimin wants to be offended. He most definitely does not need you at his rescue. The intent however was a little sweet. God Jimin is reminded exactly why he despised you— you’re perfect.

Jimin: i’ll think about it. that’s not a yes.

He pretends he doesn’t notice the little happy dance you do in your seat, nor the squeal of excitement you let out even though he didn’t give a definite answer.

Jimin starts to smile, but when he looks to his left he sees someone else who’s smiling at you and it vanishes. Taehyung. Completely gawking at you, Jimin fights that weird feeling that suddenly engulfs him. Maybe it’s the fact he’s hiding his new friendship with you from Tae.

Either that or somewhere in his subconscious, he doesn’t like how Tae is smiling at you.

“God dude, isn’t she so cute.” Tae whispers, completely oblivious to why you’re dancing in you’re seat.

Jimin trails his gaze to his lap as a bitter mood takes hold of him.

“Yeah… definitely.”

Jimin is in a rut.

Even though he’s still not certain about going to that party, finding a potential outfit never hurt anyone. Moments after he got home he was already sucked into his closet by the magnetic pull of all the great clothes he has— even though he knows himself well enough to understand he will end up changing into his “boy clothes” no matter what he ends up choosing.

He slips on a black, oversized distressed sweater. The seams are ripped in just the right places, leaving a fraction of his chest, his belly, and a dash of his waist to be visible beneath the shredded fabric. The back showcases a fair amount of skin as well.

This one, Jimin thinks to himself, isn’t so feminine. It’s doable. Maybe.

He wants to pair it with a skirt but that would only be a waste of time because if he can’t even leave his apartment in a skirt to check the mailbox, he sure as hell will not be wearing it to a frat party of all places.

He grabs a pair of black chinos that he thrifted not so long ago, letting it rest low on his waist. He pulls the look together with black combat boots and a dainty necklace that he tucks beneath the sweater. It makes him feel pretty despite the fact he’s the only one aware it’s on him.

He steps back to absorb the outfit in the mirror, and he feels good. It’s a combination of both masculine and feminine and it’s definitely testing the waters but Jimin knows his night won’t be enjoyable in the least if he wears a baggy hoodie or tee. He likes what he has on, even if the frat boys will give him shit for it. Which they definitely will.

He hears Daisy meow across the room, and upon directed his gaze to her his eyes settle on the makeup bag tucked into the far back corner of his desk.

He’s tempted, he is. But he can’t. He’s not ready yet.

Just as he begins to walk towards his desk, only enticing himself further, a knock on his door is heard and he takes that as a sign from god herself that he should skip the makeup.

With a sigh, he heads to the door.

“Knock… Knock… Knock!”

“Just a minute! For fuck’s sake.”

Irritated at the swat team-like announcement, Jimin swings the door open to reveal none other than Jessica Rabbit?

“You didn’t tell me it was a costume party!” Jimin complains as he steps aside, gesturing you to come in.

Both hands holding a bottle of E&J, you let yourself in and place the bottle on his countertop.

“Oh yeah, it’s a costume party.”

“It’s not even halloween,” Jimin states the obvious as he instinctively heads for two glasses out of his cupboard.

“It’s to make up for last year. There was a big game the day of halloween so none of the guys were in a party mentality.”

Party Mentality?

Jimin can’t believe he’s hearing about frat news from you, who is in his apartment dressed like Jessica Rabbit and is downing a shot straight from the bottle. What has his life come to.

You notice him staring so you apologize as you offer him the bottle to pour.

“Figured we’d pregame like I said. Also we gotta figure out a costume for you. Ooh what about a slutty artist or something.”

Jimin swears you make him lose brain cells. Sliding a now-filled glass toward you, he takes a large gulp of his own.

“Slutty artist?” He thinks out loud. “I’m fine with what I have on.”

Jimin counts down the seconds until you praise his bold sweater choice, but he can feel the alcohol rise back up when you say the opposite.

“In all honestly I thought that was a sleep shirt. We’re putting you in something else.”

You navigate yourself straight to what you assume is him bedroom, and Jimin nearly falls flat on his face chasing after you.

This may be a bit embarrassing for Jimin to admit to himself, but he’s never had a girl in his room before. It’s intimate, he thinks. Having someone inside a room that has witnessed every one of his breakdowns, outfit changes, alone time moments, etcetera. Jimin cringes as memories from the other night come back to him.

“Cute room,” you tell him as you look around, admiring the fairy lights and album covers displayed. Jimin was always big on music. Maybe posters were too far given his age, but he didn’t care. He never thought someone else would ever see them.

Although, Tae has been to Jimin’s place before. He knows about the posters and fairy lights. Though he never once questioned it or even talked about it. Only when he called that one poster of Ariana Grande hot. That’s what Jimin likes about Tae, he never questions him. But it’s not like Jimin gives him much to wonder about. He’s completely masked to the eyes of his best friend.

“This,” you start, dramatic tone and all, “this is gorg.” You hold out his favorite black skirt, and it’s lightening quick how fast he snatches it from you.

“No.” He tells you, cheeks getting hot. He’s embarrassed to say the least. He knows you know about his self esteem issues, but you have yet to discover his fondness for feminine clothing. But you have now.

“What? You’re embarrassed I found a skirt? If it’s socially acceptable for women to wear sweats, then it should be acceptable for men to wear skirts.”

Someone who gets it, Jimin thinks. This is the first time he’s ever felt understood when it comes to this, and he doesn’t quite know what to say.

“But skirt or no skirt, I think it’s important that you feel sexy tonight.”

“And why is that?” Jimin plays along. He takes a seat on the edge of his bed as you continue to look through his wardrobe.

“Because halloween parties exist solely for people to feel sexy all night.”

“It’s not halloween,” Jimin argues again, earning a shirt thrown at his face. Giggling, he holds it out in front of him.

You stand in front of his closet with a look of excitement on your face. His reaction disappoints you, however.

“Y/N, no. I can’t wear this out.”

“Just try it on.”

He knew this was part of your plan to get him to gain a little confidence and even convince him to leave the house in something he feels good in, but Jimin is adamant. He cannot wear this.

It’s a fitted baseball tee, extremely cropped and a shade of pale pink. Jimin cannot leave the house like this, despite how good it makes him feel deep down.

Reluctant and a tad shy, Jimin removes his sweatshirt from his body as he replaces it with what you threw at him. In the short moment he was bare, you might’ve stole a glance at his figure. His body is perfect, you think. Slim waist with faint yet toned abs and a noticeable amount of muscle on his arms. You take another sip of the drink that has yet to leave your hand.

“I look stupid.”

“You look sexy.”

The compliment was unexpected and was more than enough to have Jimin’s eyes widen. He breaks eye contact because how could he not, and he self consciously wraps an arm around his stomach.

More so his lap.

“I don’t know,” he says faintly, mumbling over his speech. “I think it’s a bit much.”

“Change to grey sweats. You can tell people you’re a 60’s athlete, they dressed like this back in the day you know.”

Yeah right, tell a bunch of actual scary frat boy athletes that’s he’s mocking their style from the 60’s.

His brows furrow when you step closer to him, reclining down and reaching for the skirt he had snatched from you. You grab one of his wrists, placing the bunched up material into his hand. His cheeks are on fire, his heartbeat picking up.

“Try it on,” you whisper. “For me.”

And fuck. Jimin is fully erect. He physically cannot bring himself to stand let alone change in front of you. He pushes your hand away, never wanting to disappear so badly.

“Another time. You already got me to wear this tee, baby steps.”

Disappointed, you think he’s right. You can’t beg him to gain confidence to wear an entire outfit like this on the first day of his journey. It takes time, and luck for Jimin you’re very patient.

“Another time,” you repeat softly.

Jimin has been to a function with very little people before. He knows what a small little get together looks like. This party— it isn’t that.

“You said a couple people!” He shouts over the blairing music as you pull him through the front hall and to the packed kitchen.

He has no clue who’s house this is and he hasn’t seen a single normal person. Everyone is either drunk, high, or the worst: a frat. He shivers in discomfort before you bring a shot glass to his lips.

“Guess word spread and more people came, no biggie.”

He downs the shot of what turns out to be tequila, wincing as he coughs out a reply.

“Huge biggie.” He looks around the crowded house after a bystander drunkenly bumps into him and slurs an incoherent apology.

This was a mistake.

“Y/N, what is the point of me being here? This isn’t making me feel good about myself in the least, this isn’t my environment.”

You take another shot before quickly grabbing a lime and placing it between Jimin’s plump lips, and before he can register what you’re doing, your lips are already on his as you suck from the lime. Nipping the fruit with your teeth you pull it out and drop it into the sink, grin wide as Jimin turns fire hydrant red.

That shouldn’t count as a kiss, but you just sort-of-kissed Jimin. His mouth is dry, heartbeat in his stomach, and he is hyper alert on the way his knees are subtly shaking.

“Ease up Jimin, it’s gonna be a long night.”

He didn’t know it then but that’s the last time he’d be seeing you until the end of the party. He sauntered off to a random couch that was unoccupied for the most part, only some random (and gross) couple having a full blown make out session on the opposite side.

He made sure to keep his cup filled the whole night as that’s the only thing keeping him from walking straight out the door and back into the comfort of anything that’s not this party.

He’s spotted Tae a few times, who is dressed as Jack from the titanic, but Tae hasn’t noticed him yet which is probably because his rather different fashion approach and the fact he’s at a frat party. If anything that should be a reason Tae spots him since he’s the odd one out, Jimin thinks. Then again it is a costume party and no one look normal per-say. Nor is Tae the sharpest tool in the shed.

He also thanks the universe for not letting Tae notice you and Jimin arrive together.

He’s been glancing at you for a while now, the way you sway your hips to the rap song playing on the surround sound speakers. The way your skin is glowing even under the dim, groggy lights of the house. He watches the way smoke exits your mouth as Tae places a blunt between your perfect lips. He looks away when Tae also places a hand on your waist, dancing with you so intimately that it pains Jimin to see.

He knows he’ll be hearing all about this from Tae. You’re his favorite person, he’s probably over the moon about dancing with you right now.

“Jimin?” Speaking of the devil.

Jimin waves awkwardly as Tae whispers something to you and proceeds to walk towards his direction. You go off to dance with a frat guy who’s been waiting all night to have your attention. Jimin finds him pathetic.

“What are you doing here? You never come to these kinds of things.”

The music is loud but that’s nothing compared to how deep and confident Tae’s voice is. Despite Jimin’s desire to be more feminine, there are some masculine traits he wishes to have. A deeper voice is one of them. Not Tae’s level of deep, but deeper than what his currently is.

“A friend forced me to,” he admits, not naming names because how could he.

“Oh you have friends?” The younger man teases, earning a grumpy eye roll from Jimin. He takes another swig out of his cup.

Jimin remembers what he’s wearing and wonders why his best friend hasn’t said anything about it yet. He almost wants to point it out so it doesn’t awkwardly go unsaid and leaves Tae to catch on to his secret need for femininity.

“Like my costume?” Jimin asks, masking the fact that this is actually just a random shirt he’s had in his wardrobe and not a costume.

Tae gives him a quick once over, not lingering his eyes on the top for long.

“Oh what are you supposed to be?”

He definitely thought that wasn’t a costume and instead a normal outfit. Jimin cringes, hating you right now more than ever for making him show up in this. But he also loves you for providing him with the save he’s about to use on Tae.

“I’m a 60’s athlete. They used to dress like this you know.”

Taehyung hums, genuinely convinced.

“Wah that’s clever. I thought that was yours for a sec.”

Jimin hates himself for what he’s about to say.

“Why on earth would I own a pink crop top, that’s ridiculous.”

They laugh it off, and Jimin feels a gut wrenching pang in his stomach. That sentence wasn’t made for him, and it made him a liar and a hypocrite to his own desire.

He needs to go now before he says even more self damaging nonsense.

“Hey Tae, do you think you can get me a blunt?” Jimin asks in hopes to excuse his friend and, well, get high.

“Is this coming from the same person that said smoking isn’t good for you?”

Jimin remembers when he said that but he’s far too drained to be defensive or right. He shrugs as he admits to his hypocrisy.

“Yeah well so are frat parties but here I am. Cough one up, I know you have some.”

Tae stands up to reach in his front pocket, pulling out a steep tin that reveals 3 joints. He hands one to Jimin, telling him a brief “I’ll be back” before vanishing to find you again.

Something told Jimin to stay at the party despite how badly he wanted to go. He thought about how it may make you sad if he were to just leave, then he ridded that idea because why on earth would that make you sad. Nevertheless, he glanced outside to see if the crowd was acceptable to join. It wasn’t.

Deciding to not smoke with a bunch of frat guys, he goes the alternative route and heads for the hallway to secure an empty room. When he succeeds, he closes the door behind him and props the window open as he lights the tip of his joint.

He doesn’t smoke often, barely at all, but he needed this. As the smoke entered into his mouth he inhaled it eagerly, head rolling back as he slowly blows it all back out. This feels good, he thinks. The atmosphere on the other hand still could be better.

Jimin laughs to himself. Smoking weed at a frat party you invited him to. The world is funny that way, he nods to himself. Almost as funny as how you’re all he can think about right now.

He doesn’t know what it is. It’s not hate. For sure not love. He’s just thinking about you. Perhaps he misses your company? Or the way your skirts never reveal too much but just enough to drive him crazy.

The way your pouty lips move when you talk.

Your soft skin.

Your silky voice.

The way you look in that Jessica Rabbit costume you wore tonight.

Jimin is painfully erect, and without even noticing his hand has been palming himself desperately this entire time, blunt being delicately held in the other hand, occasionally being brought up for more puffs to fuel what he’s doing right now.

“Fuck Y/N, yes.”

He unties his sweats. One more rough drag and he kills the blunt on the rim of the windowsill, both hands focusing on himself now. One hand tugging his waistband down, the other guiding himself out. And all he can think about is how sexy you are.

He gets carried away, going so fast on himself that he doesn’t hear or see the door open. He’s high beyond belief, god only knows what Taehyung had laced in that blunt, and so when he sees you he swears his imagination is just very vivid.

Until his conscience registers and he almost squeals as he lunges back in shock of the situation.

Quickly you run up to him just in time to pull his entire body back and preventing him from falling out the window. You’re breathing heavy, half because of what you saw moments before and partially because you just saved his life.

“Fuck Jimin, be careful.”

And how fucking peculiar it is that you’re not addressing his cock that is out in the open between the two of you.

Jimin can’t speak. He almost literally died from being caught jerking himself to you while being high out his mind.

What a fucking legacy he’d have left.

After catching his breath he frantically goes to put himself away but his hand is stopped by yours.

“You know people sneak into rooms at parties to have sex with each other, not to do themselves.”

His cheeks flush red.

“Only freaks do that.”

Jimin has wanted to before, but he officially wants to unalive himself. How pathetic he is, he thinks.

“I’m sorry, I… I’m really high right now and I thought I locked the—“

He cuts himself off when you guide his hand back onto himself.

“You’re not gonna ask me why I came in here?”

Jimin takes a deep breath.

“Why?”

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth, very slowly putting his own hand into motion against himself.

“Because I’m a freak too.”

Your words came out in a faint whisper but Jimin’s senses are heightened and he hears it like a megaphone in his ears. Your tits are practically spilling out your tiny red tube dress as you lean to help him stroke himself. A shiver cascades down his whole body, an unintentional yet hesitant whimper rumbling off his throat.

You giggle, then abruptly you stand. You lean down and peck him on his frozen, plump lips.

“Have a good night Jimin, I’ll be in contact for our next power move.” You walk towards the door. “Masturbating is a good way to show yourself love, kudos to you kid.”

Jimin’s hand is glued to his stiff cock, frozenly just keeping it there as he stares at you with his mouth agape.

“I’ll lock this on my way out, by all means finish and do not fall out any windows.”

And just like that you open the door only a couple inches and squeeze out to give him privacy. He’s left in the same spot, still in absolute shock.

You’re perfect.

You’re beautiful, and apparently so fucking sexy in sexual situations. It takes only one more stroke and one more thought of you for Jimin to reach the finish line, cum dropping down his hand and shaft as he fucks into his fist.

He breathes jaggedly until he’s drained of all energy and collapses on the bed.

To his shock, he’s not freaking out. He’s actually smiling. Then again that could easily be the weed talking. What did taehyung put in that anyway?

Jimin’s smile dissipates as an ugly thought sends a cold chill throughout him.

You’re his best friend’s crush. You’re Taehyung's. And he just betrayed him. Jimin hates how the universe works sometimes. When one thing goes well, the whole world goes to shit.

The world is funny that way.

ply pt 2???? im sorry for how long it took luvies, last year was so intense. i hope you all are still here to read😿 run this uppppp cuties!! til next time luvs🤭❤️

🏷️: @exactlygreatcoffee @sweetieguk @ctrlsht @blessrious @someusername133 @dreamer-pjm @zadkielr @dearsullix @lailaaxd @osakis-gf @jnghs @seltansworld @bxnqtxnie @moon-kid39 @mawwnsterr @zadkielr @iamjimintrash @chansbaybygirl @canarystwin @dearsullix @polyparkj @mannymalfoy @jmincore @kyglover @coralmusicblaze @midnightangel13 @jm-jkfics @lovelyflower02 @xcherrywaltz

soooo many of u guys who asked to be in the taglist changed your usernames so unfortunately i couldn't tag u☹️hopefully this found u!🫶🏻

(for anyone else who'd like to be in the taglist pls reply to this post <3)

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I will forever hold the opinion that Chat Blanc should’ve been a nightmare, hallucination, or otherwise hypothetical/not real scenario rather than a real event.

I can get behind something happening that causes a rift between Ladybug and Chat Noir, these kind of character plots can be interesting if done right, but they never should’ve given a legitimate reason that Adrien shouldn’t wield the power of Destruction or that Ladybug can’t actually trust him with information (or at all). Because the potential of Chat Noir actually becoming Blanc because he knows her identity (while not the full reason, that’s the big one to Ladybug) makes him way too big of a risk to keep on the team, and therefore almost justifies her distancing him (narratively at least, I don’t actually think that was the right move, even in this context, kinda like how she didn’t tell Chloe she couldn’t be Queen Bee anymore right away).

I will never get why the writers are so intent on making one of their main heroes seem unfit for the job. If he’s not fit for it, then he never should’ve been a hero in the first place! And yet that’s somehow not the story they’re trying to tell here? Oh, he is a good fit for the Miraculous? Then stop trying to make him incompetent or dangerous!!!

I actually don't mind Chat Blanc being a thing. I even have an ideal version of it that I'd love to see play out with pretty visuals for all the big dramatic scenes.

The idea that Chat Noir can be akumatized doesn't make him a bad hero because the message should be that everyone is capable of being akumatized. Rena Rouge, Queen Bee, and Carapace were all akumatized during the season two final, but they kept their roles on the team. I have no problem with that. Marinette has almost been akumatized multiple times and she never considered giving up her miraculous, nor should she. Everyone is going to have dark moments. It's not some massive failing.

The problems with Chat Blanc are:

The way time travel is used, making Bunnyx god

Adrien being able to lose while Marinette is there, which should never happen in a power of love show

The fact that the writers are using Chat Blanc to argue that Adrien can't be trusted with the truth

The fact that the writers present Chat Blanc as Marinette's failing/an identity reveal problem

I think the first two issues are self explanatory, so let's focus on the final two as they're insane writing choices.

Adrien learning the truth during a fight with his father is a great setup for him being akumatized! I don't have any issues with it. Remove Marinette from the scene and Adrien going full Chat Blanc is fine by me! The problem is that this isn't being presented as a warning that Adrien needs to learn the truth outside of the final battle (reasonable and what I thought this episode was doing at first). It's being presented as an argument that Adrien can never be told the truth because he's just too weak and unstable to handle the truth (asinine). If that's really what they're going for, and it does seem to be, then Adrien is completely unqualified to be a hero.

Similarly, past Marinette being the one to stop Chat Blanc doesn't bother me. The problem is that adult Bunnyx does nothing to contradict Marinette's conclusion that this means that Chat Noir can never be told the truth. That's not the right takeaway here, but Bunnyx doesn't contradict it. She actually goes so far as to throw Alya under the bus. Rude, Alix! Rude. And really weird since Marinette will willingly tell Alya her secret identity within a few episodes, which Alix should know? Alix's knowledge of the future is really confusing.

Bunnyx: Do you know how Cat Noir found out about your secret identity? Ladybug: I think so. When I went into Adrien's house as Ladybug, he probably saw me. He figured out that Ladybug is Marinette because of the note written on the gift. But I'm not sure what happened next. Bunnyx: He probably told his friend Nino, who told Alya, who wrote about it on the Ladyblog. Ladybug: Mm.. They would never do that. But Adrien probably told someone, who told someone else, and so on, until it was all over the news! The best-kept secrets are the ones you never share.

That final line from Ladybug should have been met with Bunnyx saying something like,

"There are times when it's good to share a secret! This just happened to not be one of those times, but this outcome isn't guaranteed. It's just what happened in this specific scenario. Another time, not sharing could lead us here. Don't let fear of the future keep you from doing what logic says is right."

Something, anything, to imply that Marinette wasn't at fault and that secrets are complex things. Instead we get yet another wacky implication that an identity reveal will destroy Ladybug and Chat Noir, so they have to keep their secrets or give up their miraculous. Yay!

All that being said, my ideal Chat Blanc would not work in canon's padded-to-shit writing, so I do agree that it was a bad call. Chat Blanc only makes sense if the end goal is plot progression. Instead, it's used for plot stagnation and I hate it!

[cloudcountry]

may please i request fem cater identity problems angst? a gn reader as well please! ty in advance

SUMMARY: cater has many secrets she will never share with you.

COMMENTS: its been a hot second since i had identity issues so i tried to write this based off my own experiences but i may have flopped??? ITS BEEN YEARS HELP

Who was she?

Staring in the mirror, hands cupping her face, she doesn’t recognize the person staring back at her. Cater’s breathing starts to speed up, her heart pounding because who was that. Who is that? Who is that staring back at her? This isn’t her body, she’s supposed to look different, act different, she’s supposed to be different, this was wrong this was all wrong—

She crumples to the floor, the practice silence of tears streaming down her face the only thing she feels against her hot cheeks.

She’s never been more confused than when she tries to find herself.

Did she like cats or dogs? Summer or winter? Did she like chocolate or vanilla? Did she know the most basic information about herself at all? Everyone else had answers, but hers were always purposefully wishy washy because she genuinely didn’t know. She had no hobbies, no joys, no path in life besides the one she was lost on right now.

Why was she so hopeless?

Or was she even enough of a person to be considered hopeless?

And on top of all that—on top of everything, she has you. You’re so radiant and loving, you make her feel like she actually has a personality when she speaks. You make her feel like maybe her life could have direction, even though she knows it’s futile because you’ll find out she’s a fake and leave her too.

There is no way for Cater Diamond to keep your heart when she doesn’t know what fragment of her won it in the first place.

And so she laments each and every one of her loses on the bathroom floor until she becomes nothing more than a shattered version of that mysterious person in the mirror, knowing she’ll have to pick up every piece and hide how the glass cuts up her hands, blood flowing freely from wounds that no one will notice because she hides them, but oh she wishes they’d look just a little deeper to see.

She knows she’d just hide it more if they do. It’s a vicious cycle, and she can’t get out of it.

TAGLIST -> cater's cuties . . . @vivigoesinsane @identity-theft-101 @dove-da-birb

[your-averagewriter]

Miguel x reader and reaction to Spider-Man squishmallow by chance please? Hopefully that is not too cringey, but maybe just Miguel not understanding the fascination. Then later, admitting all of the Spider-Man squishmallow a are cute 😭. If not, no worries, take care!

Summary: (y/n) finds some Spiderman plushies in the store and buys one, Miguel not understanding her interest in it but he comes around to the cute plushie.

Word count: 0.8K

Warnings: Nothing.

-

-

“Miguel, I’m just going shopping, you don’t need to come with me.” I say as I grab hold of a trolley from the trolley bay.

“I know, querida but I like spending time with you.” He says with a slight smile.

“It’s just food shopping.” I chuckle.

“I like doing the simple things with you.” He mumbles, his cold exterior returning as his eyes scan over the store, automatically searching for any danger out of habit.

“Well, I’m not gonna stop you.” I smile up at him softly. “Having company is nice.” I say, pushing the trolley through the doors to the supermarket.

Walking down the aisles I look at the items, picking up things I know we need. After a few minutes we get through the aisle and there are some items up high, higher than I can reach and I strain on my tip toes trying to reach the box but I still can’t until I feel Miguel’s body close to mine, reaching further up than me and grabbing the item with a small smile, bordering on smirk.

“Here, cariño.” He says, placing it in the trolley, leaving me standing awkwardly.

“Thank you.” I mumble, moving to push the trolley more down the aisle.

We walk down more aisles, collecting items and checking lists until we reach a more home-like section: clothes, toys and similar things.

Smiling, I walk towards the toy section seeing the cute plushies and soft blankets and Miguel follows behind slightly confused as he trails after me.

“I don’t think you need any more soft things.” He mutters from behind me and I just ignore his statement until he walks to be next to me. Picking up one of the plushies he inspects it. “Is this meant to be a cat?” He asks, looking at it, tilting his head confused.

“Yeah, a sushi cat!” I smile, it’s a soft cat plushie that’s meant to be wrapped in a sushi roll but Miguel doesn’t seem to understand itl.

I walk away from the sushi cat and towards the other soft toys and my eyes go wide with excitement as I see some of the other toys.

Quickly, I make my way over to cute Spiderman plushies and I grab one, picking it up and showing it to Miguel as he trails behind me.

“Look!” I say, not wanting to expose his secret identity but wanting him to see it. “It’s so cute!” I say looking from the plushie to Miguel’s unimpressed face.

“I don’t understand.” He mumbles, one of his fangs overlapping his bottom lip as he speaks.

“What do you mean?” I say looking at the plushie, adoringly.

“Why? Why does this exist?” He asks, rubbing his forehead.

“Because they’re cute.” I say, putting the Spiderman plushie in the trolley. “And it’s Spiderman!” I say. “Everyone loves Spiderman.” I point out.

“Whatever you say, cariño.” He mumbles, just going along with what I’ve been saying.

We trek through the store getting everything else we need before checking out and I smile when the cashier scans the plushie which Miguel still seems confused about.

Once we’ve checked out, Miguel carries the shopping bags whilst I hold onto the Spiderman plushie, happy with the discovery. He packs the bags into the boot of the car and we drive home and unpack the bags, putting all the shopping away.

“I can’t believe they made a plushie of me…” Miguel sighs, looking at me hugging the plushie on the sofa next to him.

“It’s you as a plushie.” I point out slowly like it’s obvious. “What’s not to love?” I ask, turning to look at him.

“I’m not fluffy.” He mumbles and I reach up to ruffle his hair with a smirk.

“You’re a little fluffy.” I chuckle and I can see he’s suppressing a small smile.

“I guess you're right, querida.” I yawn, tiredly.

“Anyway, I’m gonna go to bed now ‘cause I’m tired.” I start to get up from the sofa, still holding my plushie.

“I’ll join you, mi amor.” Miguel says getting up after me and gently holding onto my hand as we walk to the bedroom tiredly and fall onto the bed, tucking ourselves under the covers.

“Are you really gonna sleep with that?” Miguel asks, looking at my plushie as he wraps his arm around me.

“Yeah, now I’ve got two Miguels.” I sigh, relaxing in his arms.

“It’s kinda cute, I guess.” He mumbles reluctantly, resting his chin on my head and I immediately perk up at his words.

“You think it’s cute?” I ask, turning to face him again.

“No, I said you were cute.” He dismisses, not very subtly.

“You said it was cute! I heard you.” I chuckle.

“Mi vida, you must be hearing things.” He mumbles quietly, although the corners of his lips turn up slightly at his joking dismissal before pressing a gentle kiss on my head.

“I know what I heard.” I smirk. “I knew you’d like it.” I rest my head back on his chest, snuggling back down in the covers.

“Mm, okay.” He says quietly, relaxing again. “Whatever you say, mi querida.” He mumbles and I can hear the smirk in his voice.

-

AN: Thanks for the request!

I hope you enjoyed reading!

[chayannecraft]

Spider-Man Missa post let’s GO!!

I think his spider name could be something like Reaper-Spider?? Ghost-Spider?? Something a bit creepy, since I think his spidersuit is really edgy and a lot like his Minecraft skin with the skeleton motif. I’m pretty sure people confused him for a Villain SOLELY because his suit was so edgy until he actually established himself as a friendly vigilante.

Speaking of that, most of how he works is through looking intimidating because the second he opens his mouth he just becomes goofy and pathethic and he can’t fight for SHIT!! He will get better at through practice though, like all skills do.

(Extra details below!!)

People who know:

- Roier

- Spreen before he went missing

People who don’t know, but Missa wishes they did:

- Philza If he could get the nerve to tell him :’(

Extra details:

- Unknown to Missa, Philza takes the place of one of Spider-man’s villains, The Vulture. Or if we change his name something like The Crow?? Maybe The Angel of Death in every superhero au with Philza ever? It IS a good name… Anyways he’s probably working to take down the Federation. Not actually a villain, but is painted like that by the public because of who’s he attacking, you know.

- In their alteregos, Spider-man and The Vulture throw down every single time they meet. They probably hate each other until it simmers down into something funny for The Vulture, and not as infuriating for Spider-man.

- Meanwhile Philza and Missa are pretty much the same as they are in canon I don’t think I need to add anything.

-Philza and Missa lived together with their son Chayanne, and their granddaughter Tallulah. The way they got them is unclear to me, but the Federation does exist here as a suffocating government branch, so maybe that’s related. They all love each other very much <3 Death family mwah

- Missa still kind of goes missing because of vigilante stuff

- The Ender King is here too everybody cheer!! A figure from his past haunting Philza, he decided to relocate himself and his kids to a place where a friendly face, Rose, can help them out. He would’ve brought Missa too if he wasn’t missing.

- Missa comes back after being missing to his vanished family with no signs of where they went. With little to no options he takes Bad’s offer to stay in a petting zoo for the time being while he figures everything out. Yes, this is still canon. I think it’s funny. Spider-Man needs to have a moment like this.

- Ender King probably targets Missa too but he’s been Spider-Man for like maybe 3 years at that point so he’s kind of like ?!?!? but you know. With experience.

- If anything, I think this plotpoint is when the identity reveal with each other happens because Philza is highkey freaking out finding out his husband is back AND The Ender King found this out first so now he’s racing to save this oblivious wet cat of a man (who he doesn’t know is Spider-man and is actually holding up againts him decently well)

- I don’t know if Missa has any special powers but I have been toying with the idea that he dies on the job once only to get revived. Death Spider Powers be bestowed upon thee. He has marks on his body akin to his skeleton after this happens. Maybe he Gwen Stacy’s it. I’m working on it

[vulpecular-draconic]

so… i think i finally consciously figured out something.

this lull that i’m experiencing, that i’ve mentioned in previous posts? i know where it began. or, the two things that i think began it. i don’t remember which order they happened in? so i’ll just describe them.

incident one: i tried to talk about alterhumanity with my mom and sister. not just in vague, this-is-a-thing way — they already knew it existed and thought it was weird — but i tried to explain phantom limbs to them. i asked them if they experienced phantom limbs, and kinda told them about mine. which was a mistake. they didn’t make fun of me exactly, but my sister gave me weird looks (and thought i was confusing it for imagination, which i didn’t have the energy to correct at that point), and my mom just said she thought i had a strong imagination (in a less-frustrating way than my sister). but i left the whole interaction feeling VERY much like i’d shared too much of myself. i still feel that way about it. i noticed afterwards that it was harder to feel connected to my ‘types.

incident two: i filled out an alterhuman survey. i’m not sure why, but something about one of the questions — or rather, something in the way i answered it — left me feeling… empty, in regards to alterhumanity? i closed the app and got up from my chair suddenly feeling like i’d broken something. i don’t really know why it made me feel that way. the question had been asking about how much i viewed myself as human. my answer was that i felt like “human” was more of a job title, a purpose, than something i was. it was the first time i’d contextualized it that way — outside of my head, at least? — and… idk. but everything felt Different after that. 

these both happened around the beginning of 2024, i think. for a few weeks afterwards, i clung on to posting about alterhuman stuff, trying to get that feeling back. eventually though, i accepted the lull and stopped trying to wring connection to myself out of tumblr.

i didn’t fully accept the reasons for the lull, though. it’s true that i’ve had natural lulls before even knowing i was alterhuman, but i pretended that was all it was.

since the lull began there’s been a few spotty days where my connection feels stronger, but hardly ever to the strength i felt it before, and hardly for longer than a day or two.

what really worries me is that the only kintype i feel consistently connected to now is being a pearl fox (and avian-humanoid, but that’s less of a species and more just limbs that almost always feel comfortable to me. and dragons, which feel more like otherheartedness, but i always get shifty about those whenever i interact with dragon content). but even being a pearl fox feels more distant than it did. all my types felt very real as i was feeling them, but i worry that they won’t come back. what if they were hyperfixation-induced identities, and now that the hyperfixation has abated, i’ll never feel like them again? 

because i am a psychological alterhuman. i’m at the whims of my own subconscious. i think i definitely was everything i said i was back then at the time i said it, but i don’t feel like i am anymore, not in the same way. i tried, but i can’t force it to come back. i’m still not quite sure why it left.

to be honest, the only thing that’s keeping me from completely doubting if i’m alterhuman at all is remembering how i found out i was alterhuman in the first place.

i acted nonhuman (specifically, cat-like) since i was eight, until i was shamed out of it.

i constantly pictured myself as a dragon and had dragon phantom limbs around the ages of eleven-thirteenish.

right before finding out about alterhumanity in 2023, i realized i was placing an unusual amount of weight on the question “what is your favorite animal.” my answer had been cats as long as i could remember, but that had become increasingly uncomfortable to say in recent years (dysphoric, in hindsight). i felt that my favorite animal had to encapsulate my personality, and for some reason, cats no longer did. i realized i was drawn more to foxes the same week i learned about alterhumanity. 

i kind of wish i had learned about alterhumanity a bit later than i did. a couple months later maybe, that would’ve been ideal. give myself more time to learn about foxes and i connect to them on my own, without getting it tangled up in preconceptions, yknow?

because red foxes? the species that pearl foxes are a color morph of? i initially discarded them too quickly, because i didn’t feel connected to the classic red fox color morph. so i went searching for a whole different fox species, and found bat-eared foxes. it’s hard to describe in with words, but think that made everything a lot messier in the months afterward.

i’ve always had a fascination and connection with dragons, which hasn’t faded in the same way my connection with cats did, but i’m wondering if i was too eager to call it a kintype. i’m definitely at least dragonhearted, that’s for sure. i’ve definitely been a dragon before. i think i’ve been all the kintypes i list in my intro post, but i don’t know if that being was something that was ever meant to last.

i’m thinking about the list of animals i wrote down before discovering alterhumanity, when i was trying to figure out which creature was my favorite. i think i want to go back to before i found out about bat-eared foxes, and i want to start from scratch. make absolutely sure i’m not tying myself to an exceptionally long, hyperfixation-induced cameo shift. they have all been very important to me, and still are in many ways, and i’ve been scared that admitting to myself that things might have Changed and that it would mean they could never be important to me again. but that’s silly. they can be important again if that happens to happen.

i’ve only been awakened for what, a little over year now? compared to so many other alterhumans, i’m just a kit. i’ve barely started my journey with nonhumanity.

so i’m tentatively starting with a new status quo; i am a pearl fox.

i think i’m comfortable saying that, but i need to parse what exactly that means to me. i’m less so a pearl fox in a real-world all-fours fox kinda way (though it feels like that some rare occasions). i’m more so a fox in fable-trickster-figure kinda way, creative and clever and skulking around. (i think that may be where my fae/changeling kintype came from — it melds with my pearl fox ‘type in a way that may mean it’s not entirely its own thing. i don’t feel comfortable calling myself a fae anymore, not in a literal way. changeling i still have to think about.) sometimes i feel more like a pearl fox in a grungy way; less whimsical, more grounded, listening to rough music and wanting more from life. sometimes being a pearl fox feels more like a metaphor: a metaphor for how various parts of my identity has been dehumanized, and a channel to express the parts of me that snuck around to stay safe.

but it always, in some way, feels like me. it feels like it fits my pre-awakening criteria for a favorite animal: an animal that can encompass my personality completely.

i should probably make a new intro post with this info soon, but i’m not quite sure how to explain it in that format yet. but i’m happier now that i’ve figured this out. all my other kintypes, and even my hearttype and hearthome, i want to put away for now. not necessarily abandon forever; if the connection is still there in some form, they’ll come back. but i want to make sure i’m not forcing myself to make them stick around.

so yeah, reintroduction, i guess! i’m vuldra, i’m a pearl fox, and i don’t know if that’s ‘heartedness or ‘kinity or both in fluctuation.