#I think the second floor might have more vents too

[random2908]

This is my first time ever living in a multi-story home. (I've lived in multi-story buildings before, but I only ever lived on one floor of those buildings at a time.) So I'm really not sure what to do about the fact that there's only one thermostat but the first and second floors have pretty different temperatures.

[valvesoftware]

breakups are so fucking weird. three years and just like that it's gone. huh

[revelboo]

hiii, I love you and have been brainrotting over your works for the past 20 hours 🫶

I just write the silly things that pop into my head, but I’m glad, and surprised, other folks enjoy them.

Skin and Bones Pt 3

Megatron x reader- playful

• Shrill and painful as a something drilling straight into his processor, Megatron winces as the sound finally cuts off. An alarm or..? No, of course not. There’s the human running full tilt from an open doorway, Soundwave’s cassettes in pursuit. As Ravage pounces near, the human screeches again in mock fear despite their grin.

• They’re… playing? How long has it been since he’s heard any Cybertronians cutting up? Having fun. He just stops, not sure what to make of it. Especially as Rumble catches the human around the waist to sling over a shoulder upside down. Prey caught, the cassettes finally notice him and go still. It takes the squirming human longer, but their grin fades when they realize the fun is over and spot him.

• And even thought they’re all grown, they react like sparklings caught doing something wrong- they all bolt, Rumble dropping the human in his haste.

• That jerk. You land mostly on your shoulder and back in an inelegant sprawl, staring upside down as Rumble runs like all of hell is right on his heels. Which might not be too far off, you decide as you roll to your knees and keep your head down. Because the Decepticon leader is staring at you with a frown so severe you want to hide and there’s nowhere to go.

• Venting heavily, he kneels down to offer you a single servo, his big hand hovering close as if he wants to pick you up, but isn’t sure. Cautiously, you grab onto that servo and allow him to gently pull you to your feet before letting go. And he just stares at that servo in silence. Probably wondering what all germs you just got on him, you guess. He certainly doesn’t look happy about it and your shoulders droop slightly.

• “Do you fear me?” He asks, not quite sure why when he knows the inevitable answer. Fear is the currency he’s learned best how to spend over the decades. It keeps his motley ranks mostly in line. He���d accepted a long time ago that it was better to be feared than loved. Safer, too.

• Head tipping back to stare up at the huge mech, it’s a surprise to realize that, no, you don’t exactly fear him. He’s had plenty of chances to hurt you and hasn’t. Oddly enough, Skywarp is much scarier. This one? The big, bad warlord? Honestly, he just seems too exhausted all the time to bother with being a threat. Though, come to think of it, you have seen the other side, too. Little glimpses of an ice cold, barely restrained violence in his tone when speaking with his subordinates. Apparently, you’re not worth the doom voice. “Should I?”

• Probably. He’s not sure if it’s naïveté or bravery when you meet his optics, seeming genuinely curious about his answer. “Why were they chasing you?” He asks instead.

• Nose wrinkling as he ignores your question, you shrug. You’re an adult, but yeah, it’s not like it really matters what the giant aliens think about you. You get bored. “Playing tag,” you admit. And losing badly at tag, because you’re so much slower than they are. His stare is still blank and you throw out your arms. “Someone’s it. They have to tag someone else to not be it. Being it is bad,” you ramble.

• More silence. You’re definitely being judged by an ancient, evil robot. Exasperation winning out over caution, you lunge over to swat his servo. Hard. “You’re it.” Glowing red optics slide from his servo to you and you still have no idea what he’s thinking. What you’re thinking? You really, really wish you hadn’t done that. “No tag backs,” you yelp, realizing his retaliation is likely to smear you on the floor.

• Instead he vents softly, rises and stalks away. For a second, one corner of his mouth twitches like he’s trying not to smile. You suppose evil warlords don’t play games. Probably ruins the whole evil appearance he has going. Heart racing, you start back toward Soundwave’s quarters, not at all surprised when Frenzy and the other cassettes are waiting around a corner safely out of range of retaliation to ambush you. And you’re it again.

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[redheadspark]

Lullaby

Summary - Azriel's mate gives birth, and Azriel's life is forever changed.

Author's note- I love the great response from the one-shot Trust, so I decided to write another little oneshot about Azriel, Reader, and little Alec on the day he was born! Enjoy

Azriel knew he was making tracks on the floor at this point, but there was no way he was going to stop now.  His mind was racing and his feet were carrying him.  Back and forth, back and forth.  His shadows were even trying to catch up with him as he was thinking all of the worst things that could happen.  The sun's early misting rain was outside the tall windows of The House of Wind, the howling wind from the tall mountains was heard sightly while Azriel was going back and forth in front of the tall windows.  On a good day, there would be a marvelous view of Velaris, but not today.

Not on the day his wife went into labor.

A strangled cry was heard behind the double doors, Azriel stopping at his pace as he heard your cry of pain and his eyes trained on the doors.  It’s been at least three hours since Madja arrived, bag in hand, and abruptly pushed Azriel out the door without a second glance.  Azriel wanted to be in there with you, to hold your hand and bring you comfort since he knew you were going to be in insane pain.  But then again, he would have to go against Madja who has had more medical and healing experience than anyone he has known in his life.  All he could now was wait, wait for either the best or the worst.

He made a plan for this day, when you were about 7 months along he wanted to make a concrete plan for the birth of his unborn child.  Others must have thought of him as insane since he had a detailed itinerary from where the birth would take place and with whom in attendance.  It was working out perfectly for him since he knew most of the Inner Circle would be a simple contact away if things went left.  Of course, Azriel wouldn’t want to think about the scenario if things might go wrong, but he had to since not everything would go according to plan.

Cassian and Nesta were on their honeymoon up in the mountains, and Elaine and Lucien were in Autumn Court, which left Rhysand, Feyre, and Nyx at the River House for some quality family time.  You and Azriel were requested to housesit the House of Wind for Cassian and Nesta while they were away, you both not minding staying in the large home for a few days while you were getting slower and slower in your walking.  As your stomach grew bigger by the day, Azriel’s worries for you were growing as well.

He knew the tales of Illyrian childbirth, how brutal it was, and how unmerciful it could be.  Some children were born stillborn, their little bodies were not able to handle the birth.  Many mothers died in childbirth, mainly because their bodies would give out from all the body would endure.  Your own mother died giving birth to you, robbing you of your time and love from your birth mother.  Azriel vowed to not let that happen to you, you were far too precious and too important for him to have taken away.  Being the main source of light in his very dark world, you brought him bountiful happiness and never ending love that he felt as though he never deserved.  

To think of a world without that love, without you, would kill Azriel.  

Rhysand talked with him a week before, sensing that Azriel was beyond worried and scared for both you and your child.  He sat Azriel down at your little home while you were napping, the pair of them sitting out on the front porch as Azriel was venting to him all that was on his mind.  Although he knew it was his burden to hold onto, Rhysand was someone safe for him to talk to.

“You cannot let these thoughts overwhelm you, Az,” Rhysand said to him as he watched Azriel with concern, “Those demons and nightmares you’re having will kill you from the inside out if you let it.  Your wife and child are going to be fine, and you will have your family,”

“How do you know?” Azriel asked in a mumble, Rhysand reaching over to tap his leg with his fingers.  Azriel’s hazel eyes were met with violet ones, along with a soft smile.

“Because you and your wife, my cousin, deserve to have a family.  You two deserve it more than anyone I know, and you will have it,”

Now you were in labor, your water breaking abruptly while you two were still sleeping in one of the guest rooms in The House of Wind, and Azriel could feel through the bond that you were struggling.  He felt the pain, so intense and almost mind-numbing, as well as uncertainty and a hint of fear.  It made him worry all the more, trying to communicate through the bond to you.

I’m here, baby.  I’m here He thought through the bond, hoping and praying to The Cauldron that you were okay from the otherside of the double doors.

Azriel….It hurts so bad, Az!  Your voice was in pain, almost struggling to speak as Azriel tried to remain calm.  

The sudden sound of wings was heard right outside the window, Azriel’s head snapping over to see none other than Rhysand and Feyre bursting through the doors that lead to the balcony.  He sighed in relief, seeing the High Lord and High Lady there for him and his wife. 

“Azriel, thank The Cauldron!  How is she doing?” Feyre asked, but another blood-curdling scream was heard from the room where you were in.  This scream was brutal, almost like torture.  Azriel squinted at the sound, it was almost painful for him too.  All three of them look, Azriel’s face growing pale as Rhysand clasped his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.  

“Let’s get you a drink,” he urged Azriel, about to pull him away and distract him when another cry was heard.  A new cry, smaller and yet distinct.  It made everyone in the room freeze in shock, Azriel’s eyes went wide as he was staring at the doors. 

It was the sound of a newborn baby.

Azriel’s heart was suddenly beating so fast that he felt it against his chest in a dull ache.  His hands were shaking and felt beyond clammy as the newborn cry was echoing from the room, but to him, it was a beautiful sound.  It was the sound of his child, coming into the world, was one of his new favorite sounds in the world.  

“Cauldron..” Rhysand said in relief as one of the doors swung open abruptly. 

“Shadowsinger, you better get in here!” It was Madja, and Azriel’s feet were moving before he realized.  He was gliding over, that’s how fast he was going, and once he made it past the open door, he stopped in shock from the sight.

You were perched in the bed, bathed in sweat with your long thick hair in a braid that was over your shoulder and the nightgown you wore in plastered against your body as blankets were bunched against your stomach and covering you from the hips down.  Towels were askew, some covered in blood, and others were perched in the massive tub of hot water that was near the bed.  Azriel breathed in the scents of blood and sweat, seeing you faintly smile at him from the bed as Madja walked over to him with a bundle in her arms.   His heart raced, his eyes were solely on the bundle that was wiggling.

“Here is your son,” Madja said to him as she placed the bundle in Azriel’s shaking arms.  He lost his breath, looking at the small little being that was there and that was wiggling.  Nothing else ceased to exist to him, nothing else was coming to his mind, and everything was blank and empty.  All of his months of worry and wonder, of hope and uncertainty, were replaced by seeing the newborn.

His newborn.  His son.  Azriel had a son.

“You tend to him as I tend to your wife,” Madja said in a huff, walking away from Azriel before he could say anything to her.  He tore his eyes away from his son to you, seeing you grimace a bit while Madja was digging through her bag that was on the nightstand.  His concern grew.

“I-Is she alright?” He asked in a croak, about to walk over to you before Madja pulled out new herbs and tonics.

“Worn to the bone but healthy.  You have a strong wife, Shadowinger, and your babe is just as strong as she is,” Madja explained as she mixed some herbs together with ease, “She’ll need to get clean and have plenty of rest, but nothing else to worry about.”

“Thank you, Madja,” you said in a breath as she handed you a concoction to drink.  Azriel was relieved to know that you were safe and unharmed, feeling through the bond that you too were relieved and happy.  His heart was filled from the sight of you alive, though he was interrupted by the gurgles and coos from his son.  He tore his eyes from you back to your son. 

He was so small in Azriel’s embrace, but he was instantly in love with the little boy.  The tan skin, the dark mop of hair on his head, and the very small set of wings that were along the tiny backside.  There was no blemish on the little one that Azriel could see, the round cheeks he had along with the eyelashes and the plump bell-shaped lips.  Everything about this baby, this little being that was a mixture of Azriel and his mate, it was all perfect.  Azriel never saw a more beautiful creature in his life, and he couldn’t help but feel fresh tears in his Spymaster orbs.

This moment was new etched in his mind, a massive and pure memory that he knew he would never forget in his lifetime.  There were plenty of moments in his past, both good and bad, that he would remember from time to time.  His softer memories with his mother, meeting Cassian and Rhysand for the first time, Seeing your blue eyes and falling in love with you, your first kiss together under the stars.  Those memories were core to him, they helped him come out of the darkness and into the light that was always waiting for him.

And now, the new core memory of holding his newborn son would forever change him.  

Azriel carefully traced his son’s cheek with one of his scarred fingers, seeing how instantly his son was calm and content from the touch of his father.  It made Azriel’s heart soar, watching his son almost nuzzle into the touch with ease as Madja hummed and walked over to him with waiting hands. 

“There, now let me have the babe and check him thoroughly.  You tend to your wife and get her changed,” Madja instructed, Azriel reluctantly handing his son back over, “I’ll need to check his wings if they were damaged from the birth.  But by the color of him and his cries, he seems to be healthy. “

With a heavy heart, Azriel moved away from his son and Madja, who walked over to the end of the bed that wasn’t messed with blankets.  His eyes stayed on the child, though he moved over to you as you were waiting for him with an outstretched hand.  Azriel took it, kissing the back of it and sighing in relief seeing color on your face and a grin to match.

“Thank Cauldron you’re alright,” he said in relief, sighing in your sweaty hair as he embraced you carefully on the bed.  You held him close,  breathing in his scent as he peppered your face with kisses and his tears hitting your cheeks, “I was thinking the worst…and I felt it in the bond,”

“It was worth it,” you sighed as he pulled away and watched you, “Every single amount of pain I felt was worth it…he was worth it all,”

You both heard the gurgles from your son, Madja checking his temperature and then looking over his limbs.  Azriel could see the small wings that looked so fresh and new along the tan backside.  They were so small, but he knew deep down that over time they would be massive and filled with strength.  

Just like his parents.

“Come on, baby.  Let’s get you a shower,” Azriel urged as he helped you swing your legs over the side of the bed.  With an arm along your backside, he helped you on your feet.  You were still sore, though it was slowly melting away thanks to both the tonics from Madja and your own Illyrian strength.  You were still taking your time to the bathroom that was attached to the room, the House instantly turned on the shower with the right temperature and pressure.  

Azriel helped you strip down and eased you into the shower first before he stripped down and joined you.  Although intimate, given the two of you bare and holding one another under the water, it felt more than that for you two.  It felt like another chapter was unfolding for you both Azriel was washing you down with gentleness and care, another stepping stone in your life that you both would take together while he washed your hair with his fingers.  You felt his love in his fingers and along his lips as he kissed your skin, showering you with affection for not only giving him a son but for also not leaving him alone in this world.  

You were part of his soul, as he was part of yours.  

Finally, after getting you cleaned and changed into fresh clothes thanks to the magic of the House, Azriel changed quickly back into his old clothes and ushered you back into the bedroom.  The old sheets and towels were gone, fresh sheets were made on the bed with new fluffy pillows and the window was ajar to bring in the fresh air.  Madja once again was holding your swaddled newborn, a big smile on her face.

“You have a healthy babe,” She said as she walked over to place him in your arms.  You took him softly, seeing how he was blinking slowly to show the bright blue eyes that he inherited from you.  Seeing him there, in your arms, after being inside of you for so many months, it was almost like a fever dream.  But he was there, breathing in the same air as you, and you felt your heart grow bigger from the sight of your son.  

“There’s nothing wrong with him?” Azriel asked as you were still watching your son, seeing his eyes blink again as his finger clenched and unclenched in a constant rhythm.  

“Nothing out of the ordinary for an Illyrian babe.  He’s small, but the lungs on him tell me he’ll be just fine,” Madja explained while he was packing her bag up.  She then pointed at you with a singular finger, “You are to rest here for one night, I don’t wish for you to put more stress on your body.  You can head to your home tomorrow after I come and do a follow-up.  Drink the tonics I gave you for the pain and the lotion for your skin,” She paused, holding her bag in hand as she gave you and Azriel a soft smile, “You two have a strong son, I pray blessings from the Cauldron for a happy life with him,”

You both thanked her as she slipped out of the room, you heard her talk to Rhysand and Feyre outside your room as you sank back onto the bed with your son snuggling close to you.  You looked over every inch of him, the way his hair was thick and already showing some waves, his ears that seemed to be from you, even the cooling touch of his skin as you inhaled his sweet baby scent through your nostrils.   You saw him yawn, being content in your arms as he was slowly closing his eyes and falling asleep within your embrace.  The softness of his breathing and the morning wind filled the room, it all felt like you were dreaming as you watched your sleeping son and your husband at your side.  

This was a dream that you never wanted to wake from. 

“Sweet boy,” You cooed, reaching over to touch his smooth skin with a graze of your finger.  Your son yawned, snuggled into the blanket a bit more still deep asleep as you grinned in pure happiness, “You’re simply perfect, aren’t you?”

“You’re perfect, baby,” Azriel hummed to you as he wrapped you in his arms, having you lean against him with ease and his nose grazing your freshly washed  hair, “I’m insanely proud of you for bringing him into the world, for bringing us this gift,”

You smiled and looked up at him, seeing him with some fresh tears in his eyes as you leaned up to kiss his chin, “Look at the Shadowsinger being emotional,”

“I don’t care,” He shrugged, his scarred hand reached over to touch the blanket your son was swaddled in with pride in his tone, “I’m beyond happy with my family here, it’s all I need,”

To see your husband and mate in such a state, it made your heart swell tenfold.  You knew deep down he had a heart, a massive one at that which would only be vulnerable to those who he was close to and considered his family.  You saw it when you two were young and passionately in love with one another, and to see it evolve and strengthen over time seemed like an honor and privilege.  And now it was happening all over again with your son now in your life.  

A gentle knock was heard at the door, you both look over to see Rhysand and Feyre poking their heads in.  They instantly saw your son, both of their eyes going big and massive grins on their faces.

“Can we come in?” Feyre asked, you nodding with a hint of excitement to show off your newborn.  Both of them slipped in, closing the door behind them and walking over to be perched at the side of the bed where you and Azriel were.  Feyre’s eyes were already misting, seeing your sleeping son and her warmth was radiating off her grin and gaze.  Rhysand clasped Azriel on the shoulder with pride.

“He’s perfect,” Rhysand said to Azriel, then leaning over to kiss the top of your head lovingly, “Well done Cousin.”

“Thank you, Rhys,” You said to him as you then gestured to your sleeping son, “You want to hold him?”

Azriel watched with a soft grin as Rhysand took his son gently in his arms, already holding him perfectly since he had practiced with his own offspring.  There was a look of pride on the High Lord’s face, scanning the little boy up and down with his own sense of love that he would share with his nephew.  Feyre beamed as she stood and perched her head on his shoulder, looking at your son too.

“Oh, he’s simply beautiful,” Feyre said with a sigh before giving a small wink to Azriel, “Takes after his father no doubt,”

Azriel slightly blushed as he shook his head, “Thank you for the kind words, Feyre.  But hIs eyes are of the bluest sky, just like his mother,”  

“Still, a handsome boy and Illryian,” Rhysand said with his smile as he looked over at the pair of you, “No doubt he’ll be surrounded by love and support from his family.”

“I should hope so,” You teased, Rhysand rolled his eyes as you spoke again, “Considering he’s named after the High Lord who is holding him now,”

Both Feyre and Rhysand looked at you in shock, though you and Azriel were remaining calm.  Of course, this was one of those topics that was between the pair of you, trying to think of names and never being able to settle on one thing since you didn’t know the gender.  But you both knew one thing for certain: the middle name.  It was going to be sacred and filled with meaning, coming from a special person to the pair of you.  

Rhysand was more than just the High Lord of Night Court, he was your family and kept you close within arm’s reach.  Even after he lost his own immediate family, he treated you as a sister and loved you dearly.  To Azriel, Rhysand was a found brother and close friend, the family that took him in when his own family left them in ruins.  

Rhysand saved you both, and you both owed your lives to him.

“We don’t know his first name yet, but his middle name will be Rhysand,” You explained as you saw some tears forming in Rhysand’s eyes, “We had to name him after the very High Lord who brought us both out of the darkness and made us feel loved when we didn’t.”

Feyre snuggled into Rhysand as he was grinning at you with tears in his violet eyes, but you knew that they were tears of joy.  She kissed his cheek lovingly as Azriel made his way over to him and clasped his shoulder. 

“You mean the world to us, you both do,” he said to Rhysand and Feyre, “And we owe our lives to you.  Thanks to you, our son will know the true meaning of family, Rhys,”

As Feyre and Rhysand embraced Azriel, you were filled with content in how this day was unfolding and a new chapter beginning your life.  It was all you and Azriel wanted: being surrounded by family with your new child finally in the world.  

It was all you wanted and more

“There we are, much better, huh?”

Azriel closed the door behind him, his son whimpering in his hold as they were out on the small terrace.  The night sky was clear and calm, the warm winds were enough to leave some of the windows open as the moon hung high in the open sky with a scattering of stars.  The twinkling lights below from the city seemed to set the mood as Azriel stood out in the open with his son, who was watching his father with his newborn eyes.

Cassian and Nesta cut their honeymoon short after being contacted about the birth, coming back to the House of Wind an hour after Rhysand and Feyre gave the new family some time together.  They too were excited to meet the new addition to the family, though Cassian teased in wishing for your next child to be named after himself.  You blushed madly as Azriel gave him a playful glare, but Cassian threw up his hands.

“What?  Fair is fair!”

Since you were restricted in staying in bed, you both were going to stay one more night before Madja would come back and clear you to go home.  It was safer that way since you wanted to be at your best for both yourself and the baby, and after nursing him and having more time with your newborn, you were drowsy and you fell asleep.  But before you could, you finally thought of a name that suited your son well.  

Alec.  Alec Rhysand. 

Azriel took the helm in watching over Alec as you were resting and in a deep sleep, thinking it was the best time to have alone time with Alec while the rest of the world moved on around him.  His mind was still on overdrive on all that happened that day, running on the last bit of energy he had but also energized at the same time with his son in his arms.  There was still more to be done, but Azriel would think of those things later. At that moment, he wished to simply hold his boy close.

“You had a busy day,” Azriel hummed to Alec, seeing his son watch him with his bright eyes as Azriel kept talking, “Coming into this world screaming your head off.  You had to make your mark that way, didn’t you?”  

Azriel had to chuckle from how serious Alec was looking at him, the moonlight bathed on his skin and illuminating his bright eyes some more.  Azriel saw his mate in those eyes, a familiar sense of home was set in his gut as he reached over to tuck the blanket in a bit more around his son.

“I hope you know how loved you are,” He explained to Alec, swaying a bit back and forth as the warm wind came again, “I’m sure you do.  Not just by me and your mother, but by the rest of your family.  And I vow to you, Alec Rhysand, to always love you and show you how much I love you every day for as long as I’m alive and breathing,”

Azriel thought about his mother then, seeing her face in his mind and missing her all the more.  He wished she was still alive, away from all that pain that was around her but never diminished her kindness and gentleness.  He wondered how his mother would feel about Alec if she would love him and be happy to have a grandson.  It saddened him that he would never know, but he didn’t want to dwell on it too much.

“You will never have to be afraid,” Azriel softly spoke to Alec, who was wiggling a bit in his blankets, “Nothing in this world or any other world will harm you, not while I’m here.  Anything you wish to do, whatever path you choose to take, your mother and I will be behind you,”

He could only picture and dream what his life would be like, what kind of Illyrian Alec would grow up to be.  Would he be wise?  Or perhaps a strong soldier.  It never mattered to Azriel, not when he knew deep down that Alec would have a bright future.  He would strike down any foe or enemy that would dare to harm his mate or son since they both were his world now.  First, it was his mate, his sole source of love and joy that he never wished to withdraw from.  

And now it was his son, making his heart expand and grow.

Azriel’s finger moved up to tuck in the blanket once more, though Alec’s small and delicate hand grabbed his finger before he could do it.  It made Azriel freeze like a statue, seeing the small hand cling to his one finger like a lifeline.  The pristine and soft hand against a scarred finger is such a contrasting thing to witness.  But Azriel felt like he was under some kind of spell from the touch of his son, simply feeling his hand around his finger and feeling how tight Alec was holding onto him,

Almost silently telling his father he needed him. 

So Azriel hummed, a lullaby he remembered when he was a young boy in need of love.  The same lullaby his mother sang to him as a babe, both haunting and beautiful at the same time.  Azriel recalled that little song driving the nightmares away, making the shadows that would plague his mind disappear like mist in the morning sky.  He remembered the feeling of being held by his mother, the sweet scent of her hair, the soft tenor of her voice as she would sing to him.

Before he knew it, Alec was fast asleep, nuzzling into the blanket he was tucked tight in, but his hand was still gripping Azriel’s finger.  But Azriel didn’t have the heart to stop singing or stop swaying, even as his son was in deep sleep with a content look on his infant face.  He simply let the lullaby go on, floating into the night sky and around him as his constant swaying was therapeutic for him.  If need be, he would stay out there for hours and hours on end just to keep his son happy and content.  He would do anything for his son at this point, and he felt no shame for it.

He was too occupied to notice that you woke up from your slumber, pulling on a robe to watch your mate and son by the window with a massive grin on your face.

The End

tagged - @valeridarkness @impossibelle

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXVII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Danny has another hashtag breakdown! Diana helps mediate. Stinky Dad and the Alien Guy observe.

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

Danny’s space-watching time is very important to him. He’s pretty sure it’s on his schedule, even.

Every few days—and even more days in a week, now that people are relatively certain that he’s not going to start hitting the medical staff—Danny gets wheeled over to the big window to stare out at the moon.

The moon hasn’t changed all that much since his first few visits, since. You know. It’s in space. Still, the stars shift in their positions, and sometimes they face Earth, and sometimes they do not, and a couple times Danny sees people flying out there, which is super neat.

Sometimes Danny sees maintenance workers out doing repairs on their buildings, too. They wave back at him when they’re not busy or carrying something, which makes Danny’s core bubble and spark with joy.

So, Danny is watching the stars twinkle in the sky with all the meditative calm his Obsession requires when something plops onto his head. It doesn’t hurt, but it does put pressure onto his neck. Ow.

Danny hisses automatically, but he already knows who it is—the quick-fast-kid-who-hasn’t-introduced-himself practically vibrates against Danny’s skin, all excited by omg/omg/misch/iefomg.

Typical. Danny wants to feign a bite, but his neck kind of hurts. He settles for grumbling. “What?”

“Dude,” the teenager says, or, uh, Danny approximates he says something kind of like dude, anyway— “Want to come see a feoht?”

Uh. “A what?” Danny asks, ignoring how the guy’s chin keeps digging into his scalp. It might be the most non-medical physical contact Danny’s had since he broke down with Diana. Maybe.

The teen backs up, and models some very quick punches into the air, making his own sound effects to match. It’s all very impressive, or whatever. Danny’s not going to applaud, though; his arms are tired.

“…Sure.” It’s not like Danny has anything better to do.

“Berstan!” the kid chirps, and—

Danny clamps down on his wheelchair wheels because holycraptheyaremoVINGFAST. His wheels aren’t on the ground—the teen is carrying him, chair and all—!

He’s going to be in so much trouble for running. Danny’s wheels touch the ground, and he drops straight to the floor. His hands shake all the way up to his elbows as he grips his wheels. He is going to be in so much trouble when the nurses look for him and he’s not there.

Oh no. Oh no.

“Here we are!” the quickfast teenager announces, grinning. They’re in a room with a big, rubberized floor. It’s basketball orange. The rest of the room is virtually indistinguishable from the cloth folding walls Casper High uses to divide the gym into smaller gyms—giant cloth panels line every surface that isn’t the floor. Walls. Ceiling.

Well. It’s certainly…sound dampening. There’s vents, though. So. At least they can breathe.

The other teenagers Danny recognizes yell out to them, cheerful as ever. One waves—the kid behind him waves back, and then they’re all clustered together, pleased and breathing heavy and slightly sweaty.

“Feel alright?” one teen asks—Danny recognizes him after a second; he usually has a leather jacket on over his brightly colored shirt. He isn’t sure what the huge S is for, but hey, it’s a cool emblem or whatever. Danny used to have his initial on his…

…Danny doesn’t want to think about that, actually. He doesn���t want to think about anything about home at all.

Oh. Someone asked him a question, and now they’re all looking at him for answers. Danny nods jerkily—something sloshes inside his skull, though, which. Ew. He scrunches his face up when everyone else starts to look worried about his expression, though; it’s no big deal! It’s just! Gross!

The boy who is very fast pats his hand before sliding to the other side of the room. There are buttons there, which he presses; the room shifts, just a little, to make a piece of the floor turn away in favor of a rack of weapons. The teenager who’s always masked, but is now in an exercise shirt, whistles approvingly, and two of the teens—whoah—start flying off to grab at the equipment available.

…There’s some cool stuff there. Danny. Danny might…

He doesn’t want to fight, per se, but. Um. Weaponry is intrinsically cool. There’s no doubt about it. Half the reason he liked to play Doomed was collecting the newest and coolest weapon to blast at all his enemies with! And Tuc—

—and—

—Tucker—

Something clicks right up in front of Danny’s face.

He flinches.

“You good?” the teenager asks, big blue eyes on him as Danny struggles to breathe. “Do you want hweorfan?”

Danny gasps around three uneasy breaths before his ears catch up. Or. Well, his ears work, but his brain doesn’t know what the teen is saying?? Danny shakes his head anyway—he doesn’t want more to happen. He wants less.

The teenager frowns. Danny immediately worries that he did something wrong. “Okay, but tell me if you change your mod.”

As soon as Danny figures out what that is? Sure. He’ll tell him.

In the meantime, the kids split up into groups; one set of two goes to one side of the gym and the other goes in the air, floating on the other si— wait, they can float??

…Danny stares, and two ostensibly human-looking teenagers take to the air, loudly teasing the two left on the ground, and, yeah. They’re flying. Danny watches as the one on the ground starts counting, ready to start their match, only to interrupt his own countdown for a sneak-attack at the start and a PIFF of a smoke bomb going off. Danny can’t see the buzzing kid disappear from sight as the air begins to thicken, but there’s a distinct taste of JOY/games/VICIOUS that flutters through him that tells Danny that, wherever he is in that smoke cloud, he’s living his best life.

 And. Well.

The fighting is—there isn’t a better word for it, it’s just so damn cool. There’s kicking and punching and throwing and tossing and—sure, Danny can take a few hits and deal out some surprise punches when he has to, but these kids know what they’re doing, which is so cool, because once Danny lost the benefit of gravity mid-fight basically everything Mom had trained in him had been thrown out the window. The physics were just never right.

(And— Mom—)

Like, all the punches are happening at speeds that Danny can only kind of follow. His neck starts hurting from trying to follow them—but he can’t stop watching, and the kids are really having a blast. They’re laughing. They’re teasing. They show off, even, stopping to pose and flex and be admired by their sole observer, which Danny obliges with some gentle claps. The others are quick to jump on any distraction, though, and are more than willing to have Danny be the center of attention while they sneak up on showstoppers, stick or lasso in hand.

On one hand, Danny should probably be more alarmed by the sight of kids acting as literal child soldiers training to be combat ready. He…he’s pretty sure he’s meant to be one of them as soon as he’s recovered enough to get trained.

And…it is scary. It is kind of a scary thought that Danny might have to go back to…go back to fighting and getting hit and hitting and everything that fighting means.

On the other hand, there’s no one here. All the kids here are Danny’s age, and they’re not fighting because someone is making them; they’re having fun, and their job is to help people.

…Danny puts his legs higher up on his wheelchair, until he can wrap his arms around his knees. They’re supposed to beat up threats, but they don’t think that Danny’s a threat. They’re letting him sleep in a bed and get medical care and making sure he gets medication and everything. They let him hang out with their children and he has toys and fidgets to pass the time, and maybe he’ll have to pay them back later, but… isn’t helping out because he got helped only fair?

And they let non-humans live on Earth! That one teen’s stinky dad said that they could help Danny stay on Earth, he thinks. Or, uh, it’s what he thinks the green guy translated that as? So as long as he doesn’t leave, they could even protect him from the— all the bad stuff on Earth! So really, all Danny has to do is work on getting better. He’s safe here. Diana is here, the stinky dad is here, and there’s a whole team of super-people with super powers ready to help people.

Danny’s safe. He’s calm. He’s fine. He’s…worried that Diana doesn’t know where he is, but she’s smart and there’s probably cameras.

He watches the teens play around with various weaponry like they’re his model rocket. There’re thrown projectiles and giant hammers and dodgeballs and sticks, staves, and lassos; someone pulls out a shield, of all things, glittering gold and gleaming with something that itches at the back of Danny’s eyeball, and there’s a gun that sh—

Danny only breaks out of the memory of RUNNINGRUNNINGRUNNING when he realizes that someone is holding him. He’s choking. He doesn’t know who’s holding him, but they’re not hurting him right now and he can see a crowd of other colorful figures around him, which means he’s not with the Guys in White.

He’s hyperventilating. He can’t help it. He can’t stop it! His lungs hurt and there’s no end to the stress pressing out of his chest. Someone is holding him; where’s his chair? Did he lose it?? That’s really expensive medical equipment—they’re going to be so mad at him—!

Someone lifts him out of the stranger’s arms. It’s one of the older quick-buzzing humans. Not the teenager, and not the oldest one, he thinks. Danny can’t tell. He can’t breathe, and it’s hard to focus.

He’s shushing Danny like he’s a kid. Danny would be insulted, except he can’t breathe, and he really wants someone to help him, and his eyes are all weird and he can’t see and he doesn’t know where he is and his core hurts and his chair is gone—

Oh. The guy puts Danny’s hand on his chest and models breathing in with one big, visible breath.

Danny breathes in.

The guy models breathing out. It’s a long, slow breath.

…Danny struggles through the follow-through, but he manages. Well. He chokes hard enough to cough, twice, but…close enough.

The colorful forms milling about slowly disperse, until it’s largely just Danny, and the fast guy radiating very measured levels of calm, and his friend in black and blue, who is eating a sandwich. They breathe in, and they breathe out. That one guy eats his sandwich.

Danny looks around. He’s…the room he’s in is really big. Tables. Benches. Little stands of foo… Oh. He’s in a cafeteria. Cool.

…He squints through the new haze of green in his eyes. He’s probably strained something, but there are more important things at stake here: can he get some real food here?

“Where is here?” Danny asks. Rasps. He’s mostly horizontal, so manipulating his head around to glance at his surroundings is kind of a strain on his neck. Is that a hot dog cart?

“Wistheall,” the two say simultaneously—the guy in black and blue and a bird on his chest swallows his sandwich. “…Want a snakka?”

You know what? Danny’s going to assume that this means a snack. Sure! Why not. Nodding his head so quickly hurts, but he’s also not walking anywhere, so it’s not like it’s a full-body pain. The buzzing-quick guy sort of just…carries him around and asks Danny what he wants, and the bird guy gets it for him.

The little vibrations the guy is giving off are tinged a little with wor/ryworry/worry, but the guy’s mostly…at peace? Forcibly shoved it all down? Danny and the guy are practically chest to chest at this point, so it’s probably just that Danny’s close enough to feel even really quiet things.

His suit is super smooth, by the way. It’s not, like, skintight—there’s a little armor underneath, Danny can feel—but the fabric itself is like super slick. It’s cool. Texturally.

Also, he gives Danny a tube of something that are clearly off-brand Prongles, so Danny’s mostly just enjoying that instead of wondering what’s up with this guy and his friend.

“Are you okay?” the guy finally asks, his chatter mostly winding down into a question Danny can recognize. Danny swallows his bite of chips with a swig from his water bottle, and nods. He’s…unsettled, but he’s fine. He doesn’t know where he is, but he didn’t know where the teenagers had left him either, so this is about what he expected.

Even under his red hood-and-mask, the guy’s eyes are kind. Kinda worried. Not mean. “Something bad happened?”

…Danny looks back at his chips. Something bad happened, but it didn’t happen recently. “No,” Danny muttered around the crumbs in his mouth. He swallowed dryly. “Not…not now.”

The vibrations slow, and dim, melancholy lacing through the air. The sensation makes Danny itch. “Before?”

Danny nods. He thinks about his body melting from the outside in, his face dripping off in chunks of wet matter, his throat torn open still screaming.

“It was a—“ Danny tries, but he doesn’t actually know their word for gun or blaster. He just forces his fingers to make a familiar symbol, holding his own middle and end fingers back, leaving a shaking, uncomfortable thumb and pointer.

The quiet pew pew sound effects probably aren’t necessary, but the more detail, the better, or something like that.

Danny remembers how hot it got. Just…all the heat and light, and he could smell smoke right up until he couldn’t. And his face…everything hurt—everything still hurts, even—but the scary point had been when suddenly his face hadn’t hurt, and there was nothing left to feel.

…The guy holding him pulls Danny’s fingers away from his face. Oh. Danny was pulling at his still-green, still-healing wound. He. Uh. He doesn’t remember starting to do that anymore.

“Sorry,” Danny whispers. He swallows something wet from his sinuses to his stomach, and has to fight back the memory of a blood-and-ecto-and-flesh slurry taking its place in his esophagus as he tried to crawl away to die. Again.

The man sends out pulses of sorrysorrysorry through his skin. “Me too,” he murmurs back.

Then Danny gets hitched up—Danny squawks—and gets thrown into a better position over one shoulder, so Danny has better height to see from and a better perch in the guy’s arms. Danny drops half his prongles on the floor in the process. “Want to go find your chair?” the guy asks, body vibrating just a touch outside of Danny’s conscious awareness. Still, even without seeing the guy’s face, his whole body radiates sympathy/curiOSITy/Hungry.

…Didn’t they just eat?

Either way, Danny’s not torn between staring sadly at the ground where his prongles lay cold and bared to the cruelty of the world or getting up to go find his chair. “Yes,” he agrees, and uses the flat of his forearms to haul himself up higher onto the guy’s shoulders. Kindly, the guy in red doesn’t even budge. “Thank you.”

“Na geswincan,” the guy reports back easily, which Danny is pretty sure is a less-formal you’re welcome. Too bad there’s a whole language’s worth of context Danny’s missing out on here. His friend even snags Danny an extra can of prongles, and is kind enough to rips open the seal for him.

Nothing beats recovering from a crying jag like chips. Danny takes them earnestly.

The quick-fast guy hooks his arm onto his friend’s, and the world starts to stretch and blend into the in-between planes of reality, slices of world layered atop each other. The guy smashes through each one and pulls them both along for the ride.

It’s not quite like dunking his head in the portal, but it’s not not like sticking his head in a homemade portal either. Danny shakily pulls out a chip and starts chewing. He’ll just take the ride as it comes.

*

“Superboy.”

Kon winces.

“Robin.” Wonder Woman’s eyes turn to the more remorseful end of the bunch. “Wonder Girl. Impulse.”

“Wedidn’tmeanto!” Bart wails into a pillow, which. Fair. Cassie is sweating from possibly every pore she’s ever had (and maybe even a few she doesn’t??), and Tim is doing that stoic-faced thing that means he’s flipping the hell out too much to even tell his face to make expressions about it.

Kon just looks…miserable. Just absolutely miserable.

“…Triggered by firearms, maybe…?” Tim mutters under his breath, which means that he’s theorizing about their guest’s symptoms rather than coming up with solutions-oriented paths out of this confrontation and Cassie wants to shake him because this is NOT the time, Timothy Jackson Drake, except he’s kind of made of mortal human flesh and if she actually shakes him too hard he might die.

“I hope you understand how deeply irresponsible it was to take our patient out of his rooms without any form of supervision from either myself, his medical team, or an adult up to speed with our patient’s medical and psychological needs.” Wonder Woman’s voice is sharp—and her eyes are on Timmy Wonder Boy, who’s barely paying attention, making it clear that the majority of her ire is currently on him. “All four of you are being taken off of mission rosters for the next month in favor of remedial training. I hope that you are all satisfied with the decisions you made.”

“Fiiiine,” Cassie groans. Kon slumps in place. Tim nods without really looking.

Bart, still wailing at lightning speed into his pillow, continues doing…that.

[mintmatcha]

cw: a weird vent piece lol, suicide mention, no quirks au, mentally ill reader

You always fuck with your shirt on. You'd wear more, if you could, but you haven't figured out how to do it with your pants on yet.

You pull the sheets over your sweat chilled legs and hope he didn't notice the spots you missed shaving. If he did, Natsuo doesn't seem to mind. His arm is tucked under your head, muscle fibers occasionally twitching underneath you and turning the soft mass dense.

Sometimes, Natsuo keeps his shirt on too. Neither of you have ever asked the other about it; there's a mutual understanding when a hand is stopped.

"Do you work tonight?" he asks.

You shake your head as his body relaxes deeper into the mattress.

"I'm gonna do laundry if you want to throw your stuff in," he mumbles, "I'll get you junk to sleep in."

The medical textbooks he was studying are still on the floor, flipped to random pages of different cycles and tissues, abandoned in exchange for you. If Natsuo fails his midterms, it'll be your fault. If he passes, he'll be leaving the city next semester for his hospital rotations.

Part of you wants him to fail. It's that dirty, evil part that no one else seems to have, the part you try to starve, but it keeps growing anyway. It nips at you whenever the room gets too quiet.

It's teeth are extra sharp today.

"You're so sweet." You speak into his skin, "I don't know how you're still single."

A sharp inhale is sucked through his teeth, cutting through his smile. Natsuo takes in all of your features and you know he's wondering why you're saying these things-- why you're purposefully bringing this up.

"Well, sweetie-" His tone is light, like he's avoiding stepping on glass, stepping on glass. With every word, he walks his fingers on your arm, spanning from elbow to shoulder, "I'm only single because you keep turning me down."

The overhead fan whizzes. The part you try to starve sinks its teeth into your chest.

"Natsuo, we've talked about this," you say, "I don't date."

You sit up and swing a leg over him, straddling his hips. A trail of white hair runs down his stomach and down under the sheets, disappearing where the two of you meet. He holds you by the hem of your tee, just tight enough to hold you in place.

"Would it be so bad?" he whispers.

"Here's what would happen, alright?" You brush your fingers through his sweat touched hair and it bounces right back into place the second you pull away. It makes you giggle a bit and he mirrors you, an unsure, foolish optimism in his eyes, "Let's just say I met this wonderful, beautiful boy and tricked-"

"Tricked?" he scoffs.

"Tricked him into loving me." You want to kiss him, but it feels cruel for both of you. Instead, you just cup his jaw in your hands and cradle him, letting the weight of him slump into your palms, "He'd treat me right and bring me home to meet his parents, 'cause he was raised right and, even though he's really smart, he'd think he's in love."

Fingers squeeze at your hips.

"But the second I left, his parents would tell him that he deserves someone prettier and smarter and, and, and better," you say, "And they'd be right."

“My mom’s nice," He drops your pretense with a whisper, ruining your not so careful charade. “She wouldn’t say that.”

He doesn’t mention his dad. There’s a silent sentence there. One that says, “But he might.” It’s hard to keep your brain from sticking to that point, from sticking your thumb into this metaphorical soft spot.

“I mean, she wouldn’t say it out loud, but she’d think it," you say, “She’d sit there and think ‘that girl's not good enough for my son' and she'd be right."

He scoff he lets out is uneasy, almost a songed laugh, more pained than annoyed. "My mom is nice."

This conversation is hurting him, but you can't stop yourself.

"And they'd tell you to break up with me, but you wouldn't listen to them, 'cause you're head strong like that. You'd probably date me in spite of them for while," you ramble, "But then you'd go away and you'd meet some pretty, normal girl and you'd realize they were right. They were always right. I was right."

The overhead fan whizzes.

"So, it's better if I just don't date at all,"

Natsuo's grip dissolves and you think you see it then - the moment whatever is between you dies. A hollowness passes over his features, empty eyes and sucked cheeks, as he ducks his head down to rest his face against your chest. Chin against the soft of your tits, he seems farther away than ever.

You could gloat. You could cry. You're a self-fulfilling prophecy once again.

Natsuo sighs and his words slip so easily from him that you almost don't process what he's saying. "You're so sad. I wish you'd get help."

That catches you off guard. The control over this conversation is ripped away, your curtain drops, and you suddenly feel very, horribly seen.

"What?" You try to laugh it off, leaning back to escape the way he watches you.

"Sometimes I wake up and you're not here," he says, "And I worry that's the last time I'll ever see you."

You understand the implication.

"I'm not gonna kill myself." It might be the truth, you think.

"Yeah," His arms wrap around your waist again, snaking the air from your lungs, "Touya promised me that too."

Touya is only ever mentioned over too many beers and tears you're not allowed to remember the next morning. He was only 16, only a couple years older than Natsuo, but the ghosts still linger to this day, always tucked into the back of the room, stalking, haunting.

Natsuo comes from money and fame. His apartment is paid for by his father. He's never had to work to afford food. At first, you resented him for that; you wanted that ease and safety his family afforded him.

But everything comes at a cost. Every unhappy family is unhappy in there own ways.

"I'm sorry that you keep loving things that break." That is the truth. You're just the end of a line of his mistakes, starting all the way at mom and dad and trailing through every girlfriend ever since.

"I do love you. And it's not despite the fact you're 'broken'," Natsuo takes your hand with a resounding firmness. It reminds you of that thing they say about golden retrievers; the smart ones can hold an egg in their jaws without shattering the shell. Natsuo holds you like he understands you in some deep, intrinsic way, "Or because of it or whatever."

He doesn't look away, those bright, wide eyes bluer than ever.

"I just like all your little pieces." He kisses your knuckles one by one, trailing from thumb to pinkie to thumb again.

The room is silent. The bad part of you is no longer begging to eat. Maybe it's full for now, but you know it's just out of focus, stalking in the dark, biding its time.

"You should study." You slip from him and reclaim your own space in the bed. After a long, simple pause, Natsuo gets up himself, collecting his boxers from the floor.

"Yeah," he says, "You're right."

The hurt you've caused is no longer comfortable to live in. Your mouth is dry, thirsty for a change you're not sure how to make. Recovery feels like a big leap-- loving and being loved feels every farther away.

All you can do is shuffle your feet against the sheets and take the tiniest step towards normalcy.

"Do you want to get brunch tomorrow before your classes?" you offer your olive branch, your silent promise, "I'll pay."

He weighs this, measuring it for sincerity, then smiles just wide enough your get a glimpse of teeth.

"Let me get you something to sleep in."

For now, it's enough.

[l1tw1ck]

Discipline

bottom!ftm dabi x top!masc reader

☆ Word Count: 993 ☆

↳ [REQUEST] | AFAB Language Used

CW: Jealousy, Face Fucking, Cum Swallowing, Pussy Spanking, Rough Sex, Overstimulation, Creampie

He’s doing it again. Getting all close to Shigaraki and acting like he isn't dating you. You're too far away to hear their conversation but with the way Dabi’s rubbing up against Shigaraki, you know they're not discussing anything innocent.

You stomp over to him and look down at the two villains. They both cower in your presence. Shigaraki realizes this is his que to leave and quickly walks out of the room.

“What is your problem? Do you realize that you're in a relationship?” You look at him with an expression he's never seen before. A mix of jealousy and anger. God, he’s so horny right now. “That was my last straw. Kneel.”

He’s equally terrified and interested to find out what you're going to do to him.

“Did you hear me, slut? Get on your fucking knees.”

Dabi falls to his knees. He’s never submitted to you before, it feels unnatural yet extremely arousing. You’re already taller than him but now that he’s kneeling, you're quite literally towering over him. He watches you unbuckle your belt and free your semi-hard cock.

“Open.” You order. He opens his mouth and lets you slide your cock inside. You grip his hair and start fucking his mouth. Dabi holds onto your legs for leverage, tears quickly falling down his cheeks as you treat him the way he’s been acting. Like a slut. He hasn’t cried in years and yet this almost has him sobbing. He can barely breath or focus on his thoughts, it hurts and his throat will definitely be sore after this. “You’re so much better like this..” You mutter. He’s finally quiet now, not acting like a spoiled brat. The only sounds he’s making are gagging noises and you much prefer that. Saliva drips down onto the floor in thick globs, he’s trying hard not to choke. You ram your cock down his throat vigorously, venting your anger out on him. He deserves it for acting the way he does.

“‘M gonna come, and you're gonna fucking swallow it, got it?” Your movements grow sloppy. You hear a muffled noise, assuming it's one of agreement. You shove yourself all the way inside of him and fill his mouth with your spend. Dabi tries his best to swallow all of it. You pull him off of you. Dabi coughs and breathes irregularly, trying to catch his breath. He looks up at you hazily, waiting for your next command.

“Get up.” You order. Dabi quickly gets up, almost falling over as he does so. You grab his arm and drag him to your bedroom. You throw him onto the bed and climb on after him. You quickly remove both of your clothes and spread his legs apart. Dabi expects you to fuck him but you have other plans. You rub his wet cunt almost lovingly before landing a harsh smack, startling Dabi. He lets out a moan, his pussy squeezing around nothing. You spank him repeatedly, abusing his poor, now swollen, pussy and feeling no remorse. His head is rolled back and he can't help but wish for more. Just a few more and he’ll come. But unfortunately for him, you stop.

You turn him around and raise his ass, sinking your thick length into his warmth. It hurts a little more than usual since he’s sore from the spanking but he loves the feeling even more because of that. You don't even give him a second to adjust before fucking him. His moans and wet slapping noises quickly fill the room.

“Sl- slow down~!” He rolls his eyes back. “Too much! ‘S too much~!”

You spank him. “Shut up, brat.” You ignore his whining. “You clearly didn’t care how I felt when you were flirting with Shigaraki so I don't care how you feel now.” You speed up. Dabi grips the sheets, letting out uncontrollable sounds. His throat is sore from before but he can't stop himself from moaning. You’re fucking him so roughly that his brain might just turn to mush. You convert all your anger into energy and use it to fuck the brat out of him. He doesn't even think to complain anymore, he just takes it. He deserves it. This is what he gets for trying to get a rise out of you.

“Shigaraki’s not your boyfriend, I am. Don't ever forget that.” You grip his hair and pull his head up, bringing him close to your face. “Got it? You’re mine.”

Dabi comes at that very moment, aroused by your possessiveness. “Yours~”

You let go of him and grip his waist, fucking him through his orgasm and overwhelming his senses. He sheds a tear for the first time in god knows how long and then he starts to cry. “..Dabi?” You slow down before stopping.

“Nn- no- keep-” He sniffles. “Keep going-”

You turn him onto his back and slide back into him. With his clearance, you fuck him at a slower pace than before and chase your orgasm. “Never thought I’d see you cry.” You cup his cheek. He leans into your touch. “I never even thought you could.”

“‘s…too.. too much..” He whimpers, bringing his hand down to his clit. He rubs it in circles, stimulating himself even more despite how sensitive he is. “so good..”

You smirk, allowing him to continue. “You’re lucky I’m in a better mood now.” You speed up. Dabi grins, his mind fuzzy as you fuck him. The both of you reach your peaks at almost the same time, Dabi’s orgasm comes first and yours follows right after. He moves his hand away and relaxes his body as your movements come to a halt. He looks at you with a goofy smile.

“I want to hear an apology.” You pull out of him and pick him up bridal style.

“‘M sorry~” He replies dreamily. “Won't do it again..”

“Good.” You bring him to the bathroom to get him cleaned up.

[steddieasitgoes]

written for @steddielovemonth Day 19 prompt: Love is helping them unwind after a rough day (@lihhelsing) and Love is the comfort of quiet moments (@tboygareth) Rating: G | wc: 718 | no cw Tags: established relationship, fluff, teacher!steve, rockstar!eddie

Steve knew when he started teaching that his job wasn’t always going to be easy. That for every breakthrough lesson he taught where every one of his students understood and had fun learning, there would be just as many days where he left as frustrated as the kids because the material just wasn’t clicking. 

Today was one of those days. 

No one was more excited when the dismissal bell rang than Steve. Usually, he’d stick around, grade a few papers, or mingle in the teacher’s lounge but today he packed up his bag just as fast as his kids and bolted to his car. 

All he wanted to do was get home, unwind, and have a nice night with Eddie. Maybe make dinner and finally watch the movie Eddie rented a few days ago for them to watch before he got called in for a rewrite session at the studio. 

Steve makes it no more than ten steps into the house before his sock-covered foot collides with something hard. At first, he thinks it’s their senior dog Joe — it wouldn’t be the first time he’s tripped over him — but as Steve tumbles to the floor, he realizes he’s tripped over Eddie. 

His ass breaks the fall, colliding with the cold tile with a force that’s certain to leave a bruise — one Eddie is no doubt going to poke and prod at because he’s a gremlin, but that’s a problem for later. Right now, he needs to figure out why his boyfriend is currently sprawled out on the floor in the middle of their foyer. 

“Rough day?”

Eddie’s response comes in the form of a groan, seemingly too tired to respond with his words. He kicks his legs out farther, starfishing on the floor before scrunching his eyes so tight Steve wants to knead the doughy flesh on his forehead. 

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, “me too.” 

“Floor time,” Eddie mumbles, patting the spot next to him. 

The time it’s Steve who responds non-verbally, grumbling incoherent words as he lowers himself gently to the hard floor. He’s careful with his head, tucking one arm under to act as a cushion. The cold shocks him for all of two seconds before he feels himself sinking into the tile. The weight of today’s shitty day disappears as his body finally relaxes and the world fades into the background. 

Steve doesn’t do this as often as Eddie does, but it’s nice. Really nice. They don’t listen to music or talk about their day. They don’t kiss or touch beyond an occasional hand squeeze. They simply lie there with their eyes closed and listen to the sound of their heartbeats.

He had joked once that what they were doing was a form of meditation, but Eddie had scoffed at that — not wanting to participate in the “latest conformist trend” that is yoga, so they call it floor time instead.

As Steve lays there, enjoying the feeling of the cold tile on his tense muscles, he can’t help but break the no-touching rule and reaches his hand out in search of Eddie’s. He finds it immediately, taking his ink-stained hands into his own. His fingers curl around Eddie’s ring-clad ones and he gives it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. 

“I love you,” he whispers, soft enough that Eddie might not hear him. 

But he does. 

Eddie always does. 

“No talking during floor time,” Eddie quietly reprimands, before squeezing Steve’s hand back in return. A moment passes before, Eddie tilts his head to the side and opens one eye to look at Steve. “Love you too, baby.” 

In a little while they’ll peel themselves off the floor and head into the kitchen to cook dinner. Steve will playfully swat Eddie’s hand away from the simmering pot of sauce and he’ll give him those big puppy dog eyes until he caves and lets him get a taste. And then they’ll sit across from each other at their small dining room table playing footsie while they each vent about the shitty days they’ve had before retiring to the bedroom where they’ll take turns taking each other apart. 

But for now, it’s floor time. 

[veryconnoisseurcherryblossom]

Bastard Boyfriend

Summary: Starscream and you had another argument... Which leads to the inevitable.

pairing: Starscream/Reader

fandom: Transformers

rating: Explicit

warnings: None

tags: Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Hate Sex

“Fr-frag you!”

“I’m a bit busy fragging you!”

Starscream snarled back at you, slamming his spike into you with a ferocity you haven’t felt since the last fight you both had… so about 2 weeks ago. His grip on your hips strengthened- you were sure to have dents and paint transfers you’d need to fix after this, but that wasn’t anything new.

Every thrust caused the table to scoot over the floor, the screech joining the cacophony of wet slaps, metallic clangs, fans, curses and grunts. You glared at Starscream, biting your glossa to keep yourself from moaning.

Primus, you hate him. Despised him. This was, what- the second, no, third time he openly flirted with another bot? Stupid Screamer, barely able to keep his optics off of someone else's aft. So obvious about it until he gets called out, then it’s, no you’re imagining things.

You could do way better. Someone way more trusting, more friendly, more worthy. All your friends told you this every time you both fought. Pits, you knew you could do better. But it always ended like this, after every fight or break up, with you being-

“What did I say about zoning off or thinking about anything but this frag!?”

Starscream’s screeching voice and a particularly hard, delicious thrust brought you out of your angry thoughts with a loud wanton moan. You shut your mouth tight when you see Starscream smirk triumphantly. Scowling, you venomously berate him.

“Maybe if you fragged like that more often I would be so- frag - so pissed-!”

A dark look crossed over Starscream’s red optics. Sneering, he pulled out of you and pushed you down by your legs, a loud whine ripping from your vocalizer. You were now laying on the table, your knees on either side of your head. You looked at Starscream’s face, he had the most… Starscream-iest smirk you had ever seen. There was no way to describe it. It promised something immense.

“Fine then!”

Before you could respond- yell, call him a glitch, a fragger or any other insult, he began to piston into you with fever. It left you stunned, your vents hitching for a brief nanoklik before they whirled to life on full. Your optics flickered, the sudden pleasure of you valve being so roughly treated, like you were nothing more than a common two bit piece of shareware on Velocitron-

“Oh frag! Yes, yes!”

You couldn’t help yourself, throwing your helm back and you glossa rolling out of your intake- you bet you were a very pretty picture for Starscream. He might have been recording you, and you couldn't bring yourself to care. Starscream looked so pleased with himself when he saw your face twist in pleasure.

“Tch! Look at you- so easily tamed!”

You moaned at Starscream’s insulting words, tears beginning to form in the corner of your optics. Letting go of one of your legs, he moved his servo down to your valve, pinching your anterior node. Squealing in pleasure, you began to beg.

“D-don’t stop! For Primus’ sake, don’t stop-!”

You were close- so close. Perhaps arguing was a form of foreplay for the two of you. It certainly got you going. He continued to thrust into you, chirping in Vosian. Almost growling- you were too busy thinking about how good it felt for his spike to ram against your ceiling node, the way he pulled and rubbed at your anterior node to care about what he was saying.

Primus, it felt too good.

“St-star, I’m- I’m close!”

You moaned out, ex-venting heavily. Starscream smirked- it should be illegal for anyone to look that good smirking, especially in such a smug way. You callipers worked feverishly on Starscream’s spike, each thrust of his lighting up your valve sensors and bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Starscream sneered, his denta glinting in the dim lighting.

“Go on- overload for me! Show me how you really feel!”

With a cry, you came undone. Overloading so intensely you optics went offline, your frame shuddered and vented heavily with each wave of pleasure washing over you, your transfluid squirting onto his modesty plating and spike. Starscream never stopped fragging you, his pace however became frantic and uneven, he too was reaching his end.

“Fr-frag!”

He pulled out and overloaded over your abdomen and chassis with a loud groan, coolant dripping down his face. Glowing pink transfluid streaked across your chassis and abdomen. God, his beautiful, beautiful face- the picture of perfection, especially when he’s coming down from an intense sex high and-

And you scoffed, disgusted. Your optics came online and you glared at the venting seeker.

“You fragging glitch- you know your transfluid ruins my finish!”

Wordlessly Starscream bends down and grabs your face, softly taking your derma into his own. You didn’t fight back, you brought your arms around his neck, keeping him there as you moved your derma against his. It was the softest thing he had done all week. It made you feel like your spark was melting and bursting at the same time, your tank felt like it was full of robotterflies.

All too soon however, he pulled away from you, your arms gently falling to your sides. Maybe you were too spike drunk, but the way he looked at you right now almost seemed affectionate. Loving, even. He pulled a cleaning rag from his subspace and began to wipe his transfluid off of both of you without a word.

“... I’m still mad at you.”

You mumbled, looking away. Starscream smirked, his optics becoming a dim red. He moves his servo down your chassis to your valve once more, languidly circling your anterior node with his thumb. His voice is low and sultry as you gasp and moan.

“I know how to make it up to you.”

[lily-blue]

Baby, we’re more alike than you think

☆ characters: rich kid!eunwoo & rich kid!you ☆ genre: rich kids au, college au ☆ warnings: bullying, implication of sexual assault (it crosses the reader’s mind at one point, but doesn’t happen for real) ☆ request: DV24. form this prompt list ☆ summary: Eunwoo doesn’t like to be cornered, so he turns the tables and leaves you with no other option but to beg for his mercy ☆ words: 1,4k ☆ dedicated to: @dat-town​​ ♥

Most people would have called you an idiot for pretending that you weren’t part of one of the most influential families in your country - in a prestigious university, no less -, but you liked having friends who liked you for who you were rather than for how much your father’s company was worth, hence you couldn’t stop the act.

It had started out completely unintentionally, though; you had sat next to this cute brunette on your first day of university and seeing the Demon Slayer keychain dingling on her bag, you had asked her about her favourite character since you were also a fan. You had hit it off right from the start - as soon as Yuqi had picked the Water Hasihra whom you, too, had a soft spot for -, and in-between lectures and seminars, you had slowly discovered at least half a dozen things you had in common. You had never become friends with someone so cool so easily. It had felt like it had been written in the stars.

Considering that you two had many things to talk about, obviously your financial situation or family background hadn’t come up immediately. And if you had wanted to be honest, you had preferred it that way. However, the difference between your lives had become painfully obvious when entering the university canteen, some spoiled brats had felt the need to push Yuqi’s tray out of her hand and her on the ground. Their reason? It had been to put her back to her place and simultaneously humiliate her for being on scholarship.

Your throat had closed up as the realisation had hit you, but you quickly regained your cool. You could have easily put an end to the harrassment if you had introduced yourself properly - being the youngest child and the only daughter in your family, you hadn’t been shown off to the public yet -, but one look at the anger on your friend’s face had said it all: Yuqi wouldn’t have appreciated a rich kid’s help. On the contrary! She might have given up on you and your friendship altogether before you could have formed a strong enough bond. So you had said nothing.

Instead, you had crouched down beside your friend and helped her up, dragging her out of the canteen, all the way to a more secluded part of the campus. You hadn’t talked a word about her scholarship, but you had let her vent about the entitled nepo babies of your country and in a matter of mere months, you two had become the loudest spokespersons on the injustice in your university.

Being a Communication major, your assigned role was to write juicy, exposing articles about your fellow university students who abused their family’s power and while most of the time you were well-hidden in the shadows, behind your laptop, sometimes you had to put yourself out there to investigate. This was how you ended up in an empty tutoring room on the second floor of your school’s library with Cha Eunwoo whose lackeys had left the two of you alone as soon as the young heir had told them to.

‘Give me your phone!’ The boy demanded and while a teeny-tiny part of your brain was aware that you should have been more afraid, you were too pissed to do as he said. The only people who could boss you around were your parents and grandparents and even them rarely did so. Who was he to think you were his servant?

‘You mistake me for those losers. I don’t have to do anything you tell me to,’ you reminded him with a scoff, your perfectly made locks bouncing as you put your whole chest into this disrespectful, lowkey mocking gesture. You didn’t break eye contact. In fact! You kept your chin high.

‘I don’t like repeating myself,’ Eunwoo said, his facial expression so cold, you could feel the chill it sent down your spine when he took a step closer to you. However, you were your father’s daughter and despite your poor-girl-act, you had pride.

You linked your arms in front of your chest and let a lopsided grin adorn your rose-tinted lips.

‘Look at that. We actually have something in common,’ you mocked, enjoying the smallest cracks on his mask even though it didn’t take long for him to hold onto his self-control. He had clearly moved in the same circles as you would have done if your parents hadn’t been so protective over you.

Your grip tightened around your phone a little when Eunwoo took another step closer to you, but you refused to show how intimidated you really felt until your back hit one of the white walls. Because then… then you gulped. And that was a telltale sign, blood in the water. Just like a shark, the boy seemed ready to tear you to pieces.

‘Oh, we have a lot more in common than you let your pathetic little friends in on,’ Eunwoo said while he brushed a stray lock behind your ear. His touch was burning even though his finger barely grazed your jawline. 

He leaned closer, so that his lips were right next to your earshell. Your heart was beating in your throat.

‘You like airing our dirty laundry, don’t you? How about we do that to yours. Wouldn’t you like that?’ He taunted you, his voice barely above a whisper and yet, at that moment it felt like he was talking into a microphone. A loudspeaker. ‘One more thing in common.’

He knew. Cha Eunwoo knew that you were faking it.

He knew and he enjoyed his leverage on you, which made your blood boil.

‘Fuck off,’ you pushed the boy further with both of your hands, but after the initial surprise faded, you lost your adventage. He invaded your personal space once again, effortlessly.

Eunwoo squeezed your cheeks, your lips puckering all sulkily.

‘Ah-ah. Let’s do something about that mouth of yours,’ he taunted you and for a second, by the way he was staring at your lips, you thought he would kiss you.

You yelped when he dug his fingers into the soft flesh in the crook of your neck and pushed you on your knees. What was happening? Would he… you tried to turn your head away, but  his grip was too firm. Would he force you to suck him off in the library? He wouldn’t have, would he?

‘Start to beg. And don’t forget to kiss my feet while you’re at it,’ Eunwoo said and while his demand was outrageous, the relief you felt when you realised that he didn’t intend to rape you outpowered your annoyance.

Actually, you were so caught up in your slowly dissolving fright and the reassurance that his covered crotch in front of your face was a mere consequence of your heights that you lost touch with reality for a second.

Why were you kneeling in front of him? What had he said? 

‘Beg for what?’ You asked, more confused than anything, which earned an eye roll from the boy. He crouched down in front of you and shook his head as though he was disappointed, as if you should have cared what he was thinking about you.

‘To keep your secret, of course. Though, if you want something else, too… Well, I might give it to you if you’re asking for it nicely,’ he shot a disgusting grin at you, smug and suggestive, which made you want to spit at his face.

You almost did so.

‘Go to hell,’ you mumbled under your nose, finally able to look away with his hand off your body. Still, it didn’t make you feel less caged. His closeness in itself chained you to the wall, and you hated it.

You hated him.

You hated that even though he knew who you were it didn’t shield you from his cruelty. That he didn’t give two damns about your family, but could use them against you at the same time.

‘Your friend works in the school library in her free time, doesn’t she? Should I go and find her?’ He asked, clearly amused and you bit into your lower lip to suppress another curse. He was clearly unaffected by your words and you really shouldn’t have risked pissing him off for real, should you?

As much as you would have liked to tell him to feel free to look for Yuqi and leave you the fuck alone, a part of you knew the girl would have hated you not only for lying, but for being rich as well. There was no way she would have forgiven you if Eunwoo had aired your dirty laundry and you loved Yuqi.

The possibility of losing her made your hand shake. When Eunwoo stood up and nudged your shin with his foot, you pressed your lips together and bowed.

You refused to let him see your tears fall when your lips touched his designer shoe.

the end.

[vaguely-concerned]

Silly Garashir ficlet, Teen and Up-ish, mostly banter! CW: copious amounts of blood but like. Purely in a comedy capacity (don’t worry none of it is Garak’s)

“Good god,” Julian breathed, unable to do anything but stare for a moment. 

“Oh, don’t worry, none of this is mine,” Garak said, dripping puddles of crimson onto the floor, calm blue eyes the only thing peeking out from the solid layer of blood covering his face and upper torso. “The gravest injury has been to my wardrobe, I assure you. As you might have gathered, I encountered our suspected evildoer as they sought to make their escape.”

“From the looks of things, I’d hazard it’s more accurate to say that they encountered you,” Julian said. He shook himself out of his momentary petrification and raised the medical tricorder to make sure Garak’s reports of being unharmed hadn’t been greatly exaggerated, as would sometimes be the case with him. 

“However you would prefer to frame it,” Garak said, dipping his chin modestly and blinking globs of blood from his eyelashes. “I’m sorry to say I couldn’t ascertain many details about them, neither in terms of species or other identifying details. They were masked and coming at me with a knife at the time, which in the moment tends to blot out other considerations in one’s mind.”

Despite himself, Julian grinned at the performative airiness of Garak’s tone. He did seem to be basically fine. “I think that’s understandable under the circumstances, Garak. Odo’s probably going to track them down pretty quick, if they’re leaving a trail of blood across the station. Do you, er… want a handkerchief or something?” 

“It’s very kind of you to offer, but I don’t think that’s going to do the job in this case.”  

“No,” Julian had to admit, “no, you’re — probably right. I’ll let you go for a thorough sonic and peace and quiet once I’m done with this. I’m sure Odo will want a word with you later, though.”

Garak parted his lips to say something, and grimaced. “Ugh. Well, if it’s any help in figuring out the identity of our culprit, that’s definitely the taste of Napean blood. As you mentioned there will of course also likely be other clues, like them bleeding profusely as they sprint across the Promenade, but I always strive to be helpful wherever I can.” 

“Garak!” Julian yelped, shooting him an alarmed look and continuing his inspection of the tricorder readings with renewed worry. 

“Hm? Yes? You can run whatever tests you want on it to be sure, of course, but I am quite certain in my conclusion. There is a… distinctive tang to —”

“That’s so medically unsafe, you can’t go around ingesting —” 

“Well, I hardly meant to ingest anything, Doctor, but it did end up all over my person in a way that makes it hard to entirely avoid,” Garak snapped, though he tolerated Julian going in for a second, even more thorough examination without complaint. “Maybe if this person hadn’t so rudely insisted on venting the contents of their arteries straight into my face during our tussle — ”

“Yes, yes, I understand, sorry, I wasn’t suggesting you did it on purpose or anything, but it does mean I really do need to monitor you for any allergic reactions or bloodborne… wait, wait, hang on, how do you even know what Napean blood — ”

Smiling in a way that aimed for beatific and missed it by way of too many bared teeth, in a manner that would probably be quite unsettling if Julian wasn’t so used to (so fond of, whispered a treacherous little voice in the back of his head) Garak’s face, Garak dabbed daintily at the worst of the blood dripping off his nose with his sleeve and said: “Do you really want to know, or is this your outsized curiosity running ahead of your better judgment again?”

“I’m going to be wondering about it all night, but no, I don’t think I want to know, actually. If I come back in a week and still can’t put it out of my mind, feel free to tell me, though. Or use that time to come up with a good story, I don’t mind.”

“Never any but the best for you, my friend,” Garak said fondly. 

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hii! Idk if you've ever done something similar, but what do you think about TADC x Skater! Reader? Like, Reader always have their skates on, like it's a part of their digital costume or smth. And i really mean ALWAYS. Someone spilled water on the floor? Reader slips down. They go on an adventure and a part of the floor is inclined? (Like a hill for example) There goes reader down the hill. I think it would be pretty funny lol

Btw, i really love your page, keep it up and don't overwork yourself

TADC cast x rollerskater!reader

Anon I am so so so sorry !! I dont know if I personally got jumbled up or my inbox has been wonky silly goofy or I just got thrown off because of so many people sending stuff in, but I also missed this as well as some other requests 😭😭

This one may be a little short since I've never skated <\3

Written this as more platonic leaning !

CAINE:

Probably poofs himself his own rollerskates, literally the only time you see him on the ground and it's so weird to look at. You guys both slip and fall because bubble wiped themselves across the floor or something

Obviously leads to bubble getting popped

Honestly seeing caine struggle to keep steady while using the rollerskates is... very funny.. look at his lil legs wobble (tell anyone and he will tilt the ground of the next IHA)

POMNI:

Honestly she would probably slip on the floor too if its wet or has marbles. She looks like she would comically fall over, with her legs flinging straight up into the air before plopping down

Looks at you confused as you visibly try to calculate how fast this one little slope will make you go, she probably forgets you have skater feet in the beginning

Subconsciously tries to grab and stop you when you start rolling, but because shes so small you just drag her with you

Theres that squeaky noise as shes being dragged across the floor

Yk the sound

JAX:

Throws marbles on the floor as well as other things that can make you stumble or slip... probably soaps up the floor.. thank god hes just a circus rmemeber and not like, a ringmaster... this dude would tolt the floor in so many different angles just to fuck with you... thankfully, he cant do that!

Though in another timeline... perhaps you werent so lucky...

Not much to be said here, with the bit with zooble in the pilot (the arm thing), jax is more than ready to use peoples unique digital qualities to please him or mess with them, and you being his friend only makes you slightly less likely to be messed with

RAGATHA:

Keeps a hand on your shoulder when she notices the floor is tilted, tends to walk with you while holding your shoulder still. She can only imagine what it's like to be s victim of slopes.. it would drive her nuts.. as long as shes around shes going to do her damndest to make sure you dont roll away or slip... unless jax literally throws marbles in front of you two at the very last second because who can predict that..?

In any case where theres an IHA with a DEEP slope I think she just might resort to carrying you so you dont go FLYING down

ZOOBLE:

Okay you guys might not have the same issues but they can relate to you in the jax department, with him using your qualities to his advantage. Its absolute hell.. I think it would be this shared thing that leads to you guys building a relationship in the first place

That one meme where it's two people at the bar and they overhear each other saying "I hate (x)" then they start making out

Thats you guys ranting about the bunny/j

Offered you some parts before realizing that you cant swap out your limbs like they can

"Ah, bummer"

KINGER:

Has probably asked you why you dont just take them off when you vent to him about jax putting marbles on the floor. Kind of sounds like when people say shit such as "oh you're depressed? Just cheer up!" But like, kinger says it in a genuinely.. not malicious or tone deaf way.. like I dontt think he knows, or perhaps he thinks you're like zooble with detachable limbs and you have another pair of feet hanging around somewhere

Gives a soft "oh.. " when you demonstrate that they are attatched to you

Offers to let you strap pillows to yourself to soften any blows when you fall, let's you have his softest and thickest pillows... what do you mean it throws off your balance...?

GANGLE:

You have probably accidentally rammed into her after misjudging how steep a hill on the ground was

Good news! She stopped your momentum!

Bad news, shes all tangled up in your skates (owie!) And her comedy mask is broken (oh no!)

Please be careful getting her out. We don't want her ribbons to tear or get damaged, we cant have our girl start fraying!

[avvail]

Hero is an alcoholic and the villain finds the hero on the sidewalk with a bottle of alcohol in his hand, and then the Hero starts to vent to the villain about his issues

“Hero.”

The villain hadn’t meant for such thickness to creep into their voice, but it had. Seeing the hero, such a prized little monument in their city, squeezed in an alleyway with an entire bottle of whiskey clutched in his hand, might do that to anyone.

They shouldn’t have thought anything of it.

Maybe it was a kick to keep him going through the night.

Maybe he would leap to his feet and engage the villain in another breath taking battle. But even in the dim light, they see the unnatural flush on his cheeks. They see the unfocused, glazed look in his eye.

It even takes him far too long to register that his name had been called.

The whiskey bottle clanks against the concrete as he sets it down, but doesn’t unfasten his fingers from the slim neck.

“Villain.”

His voice is shaking. They can sense a slurred drawl creeping effortlessly through each syllable. The villain steps closer. They can almost smell it.

“What are you doing, Hero?”

He languidly nudges the half empty whiskey, as if the answer was obvious.

“Drinking,” he slurs. The villain’s brow pinches.

“Why?”

The hero gulps down another swig. They almost see it hit him, his eyes popping open wearily, before his head lolls lazily so his chin is almost touching his chest. He sucks in a wet breath.

“Why does anyone do anything?” He grumpily groans, struggling to twist his tongue around his own words. He looks as though he barely knows what he’s saying. “Jus’...leave me alone.”

The villain grimaces. They stop in front of them with a pinched brow etched onto their face, and they reach down to pry the bottle from their hands. Surprisingly, he has enough to strength to rip it away. Some liquid sloshes onto the pavement with a wet smack.

“Oi,” he loudly snaps. “That’s mine. Hands off.”

“I think you’ve had enough,” the villain sternly tells him. They can feel this resonating anger consuming their very being. They don’t know why seeing the hero in this state is getting them hot under the collar. Maybe it’s because the hero is doing it to himself.

The only person who should be bringing him pain and misery, was them. Not a bottle of Jameson.

“I’ve only had three bottles,” he huffs, barely stuttering out the words. The villain’s eyebrows raise.

“Three?”

“I like Irish whiskey,” the hero hums.

The villain resists the urge to curse under their breath. They hadn’t ever once thought of the hero as an idiot until now. They yank the bottle from his slipping grip with more force this time, and it pops right out of his hand. They already have an arm lay over his collarbone to prevent him from moving when he attempts to lurch forward in a hasty effort to take it back.

“Hey!” He snaps, barely fighting him off. “S’mine.”

“Why are you drinking yourself to death?”

They don’t ask because they care. The villain hasn’t ever cared; they just don’t want the hero to be easy pickings while he’s out here in this state. He puts up a valiant fight for a drunkard.

“Why do you care?” He hisses, and the villain can smell the warm wood and nutty undertones radiating from the bottle. They make a point of tipping it all out onto the pavement.

The hero fights harder this time, a ragged groan tearing from their throat.

“Fuck you,” he growls, clumsy fingers trying to latch onto their shirt. “Jus’...fuckin’, ruining everything—”

The villain can see tears in his glassy eyes. They wonder whether it’s because he just poured an expensive bottle of Jameson on the floor, but they find their voice softening regardless. Not because they care.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” they ask.

The hero grits his teeth, a soft little huff choking in his throat. It takes mere seconds before the tears begin to roll down their cheeks.

“Twenty two people died on that bridge,” he forces out, sucking in a sharp breath. “It was my fucking fault. Mine.”

They look at them gently.

“Hero, that was months ago,” they whisper. “You know that wasn’t your fault.”

The villain can feel him visibly shaking from under their arm, and they decide to slowly remove it from his collarbone. The hero sways, and he’s clearly fighting off a huge wave of drunken dizziness that slams into him.

“I’m a fucking joke,” he sobs. “I need it.”

“You don’t need to do this,” the villain murmurs. They try to ignore the returning thickness in their throat. “You’re not a joke.”

“Leave me alone,” he groans, head falling limply onto their shoulder. They stiffen. “Please.”

They don’t like the way the hero begs. It isn’t nearly as fun as they had imagined; none of this, seeing the hero broken and miserable, was as fun as they had imagined. They gently cradle him into their side, and slowly heft him off the ground. It takes him a while to even find his feet.

“Come on, Hero,” the villain hums, voice strained. “I’m taking you home.”

He quietly sobs to himself as they do, and the villain realises how much he must have been struggling for months by himself. They take him back home, but it isn’t because they care. Even when they put him in some clean clothes, and make him sip at some water, making sure he lies on his side so he doesn’t throw up.

When the hero is asleep, they stay. But not because they care.

[euijoosorangeslice]

hiii <3 how are you? hehe

skdjsks help my midterms are starting tomorrow, i’m super nervous… so, could i please request &team members’ reaction to when their s/o is stressed out about exams (maybe, even to the point of crying and isolating) 🥹

just something cute, cuz i think i’ve been reading smut a little too much lately😭

- 🦋

Haiii 🦋i gotchu (i think i sorta need a break from smut too😖)

warnings: a lil angsty, mostly fluff, (nicho is a lil suggestive tho)!

&team Reactions When Their S/o's Are Stressed Out

K

Would get really concerned. He's been in the same position as you before, so he knows how it feels.

"Babe?" He'd turn the corner, seeing you curled underneath your desk. Investigating the scene, he would see your textbooks all over the desk, open with writing notes all over it. Then, his ears would would pick up on your soft sniffles. "Oh, baby. Come here." Kei would pick you up from under the table and place you onto your bed. He would rock you back and forth, even if you try to escape his grasp. Would kiss your face all over and whisper praises in your ears.

Fuma

Doesn't really get why your stressed because he didn't struggle in school but will try his best to comfort you.

He would be cooking in the kitchen and ask you to grab him a glass cup. Of course you'd drop it onto the ground, watching it shatter over the floor. "Fuma...I'm so sorry." He'd see the tears well in your eyes, a little confused because it was his cup, not yours. "It's okay babe. I'll clean it up." He'd watch you fall apart, sobbing and falling to your knees. He would catch you before you fall onto the glass, lifting you up and placing you onto the couch. Kissing you softly and reassuring you. "Shit, I forgot to turn of the stove!"

Nicholas

Tries his best but will convince you to go with his...own solution.

Upon walking into his room, he'd look at your sad face. "You okay?" he'd ask, immediately making you burst into tears. Panicking, he'd get up from his bed and make you sit down next to him. Kissing your tears away, holding your face and putting your foreheads together. "Hey, don't stress about that school shit, ok? You can always ask me for help." He would softly kiss your neck and your collar, playing with the edge of your shirt. "I can distract you for about an hour if you need it."

Euijoo

Would comfort you and end up doing some studying with you, very patient.

When he comes into your room he'd see you hunched over your desk and crying, he would pick you up. "Hey baby. Hm, sit on my lap." You'd let him place you on his lap, hugging you tightly. "I know this is hard, but we have to get this done. How about I help you?" You two would spend the rest off the night studying, and you'd fall asleep on his lap.

Jo

Is probably actually in the same boat as you so you two can vent to each other.

You'd flop onto his bed while he's taking notes, making him look over at you. "Oh, hey y/n. What's up?" Starting to cry out of nowhere, he'd be a little concerned. But he gets it. He's stressed out too. You two would just sit on the bed together and cry in each other's embrace.

Yuma

Is the type to not stress over these things, but will hug it out.

"Babe? Are you seriously crying over this dumb stuff?" He teased, seeing your angered expression. "Yes, Yuma! This 'dumb stuff' can make or break the rest of my life." You scolded, Yuma's smile fading into a more compassionate one. "It's gonna be okay, my love. Just come here." Hugging you so tight you can barely, breathe, you'll start to think you might just be okay.

Harua

will stress out with you, make it a little worse but eventually make it better.

You would be working over your desk, panicking and your eyes wetting. Harua's eyes would go wide. "It's exam week? Oh crap! B-but you shouldn't worry. I know it's stressful but just take a deep breath." Hugging you from behind, you two would sit there for a second. "I'll head to the store and buy us some snacks, okay?"

Taki

knows about it already, planned something for you in advance.

Taki would come in while your studying, in an excited mood. You'd turn around, seeing tears well in your eyes. "Hey darling! Come see what I did." He'd grab your hand, taking you into the living room. You were too busy doing your work to even notice that Taki had set up a fort and some fairy lights. "Dinner and a movie?" He'd suggest, hearing the doorbell ring.

Maki

tries his hardest to be compassionate.

He'd bake you cookies and brownies and anything he can learn. In and out of your room all day while baking you treats. By the end of the day, you'd have piles of sweets waiting for you. He would hang out with you, holding you while you guys stuffed down all your sweets.

[vendetta-if]

Okay... Every. Single. Time. I see the hickey ask on an IF blog I follow, I feel the NEED to post this follow up:

What if very shortly after that, the ROs catch / hear the MC asking someone (or even if the MC asks THEM, depending on the context) if they have something to soothe mild allergic reactions to mosquito bites, because they got one on their neck.

So basically, how would they react when faced to the reveal it wasn't a hickey at all but a dumb mosquito bite!

Here goes out to all of you hickey anons and non-anons 🤭❤️ Also, the link to the infamous hickey ask is here for those who haven’t read it!

Ash

“Wait, wait, Ash!” They hear MC calls out to them and they stop in place. Oh, how they just want to bolt away from this nightmare, but maybe this is also a chance to just face it head-on.

“Ash, what’s wrong?” MC asks as Ash turns around to face them. Ash doesn’t really know what kind of face they’re wearing right now.

“Who was it, MC?” They ask, voice hoarse.

“Who, what?” MC asks in genuine confusion, which just irritates Ash even more.

“The one—The one who gave you… those marks!” They gesture at MC’s neck.

MC’s eyes widen. “What?! No! Nobody gave me these marks. These are goddamn mosquito bites,” MC explains as they scratch their neck. “I swear once I get my hands on those bastards…” They mutter under their breath.

Ash just stands there dumbfounded. “M—Mosquitoes?” Those are not… They glance down and just notice MC is holding a can of bug spray. Oh… Oh no… How could you think the worst of MC, Ash?

“Yeah, pesky bastards. Don’t tell me you didn’t have any in your room last night?” MC says, scanning Ash up and down for a second before concluding, “Oh, you didn’t, don’t you?”

“N—No,” Ash replies truthfully.

“Motherfuckers probably thought your blood is too hot to drink or something,” MC mumbles irritatedly. “Well, I’m gonna spray the whole penthouse now, if you don’t mind.” MC raises the can in their hand like a weapon.

“Uh… Yeah, please do that,” Ash says stupidly. “And, uh… Just forgot what I said earlier…” A surge of relief washes through their whole body, but it soon gets tainted by embarrassment.

“Aww, were you jealous?” MC smirks teasingly.

“Uh—Um…” Ash stammers. “I—I gotta go! See you later, MC!” They splutter in panic before bolting away for real this time.

Oh my God, MC is not gonna let them live this down, won’t they…

Rin

Rin decides not to embarrass themself further and chooses to just ignore MC, pretending not to see or notice them entering the room. They’re not going to lower themself to ask MC about the marks.

Honestly, they’d rather MC leave them alone for now. But of course, the opposite of what they want always happen. They groan inwardly as they see MC walking over to where they’re standing from the corner of their eye.

They steel themself for an unwanted conversation. They’re good at that.

“Hey, Rin,” MC greets them and they just grunt softly in reply. MC doesn’t even notice their curt reply, seemingly distracted by something else.

Oh, I bet their mind is still filled by whatever happened last night…

“Uh, this might be a weird question,” MC begins sheepishly as Rin just keeps staring at them unamusedly. “But, do you know any kind of salve or medicine that can help with these mosquito bites?” They ask, scratching at the marks on their neck.

Rin blinks. There’s no way that excuse would work on them. “Really?” They reply skeptically as they gesture at MC’s neck. “You’re bitten by mosquitoes in your penthouse?”

“I know right? I don’t even know how they managed to get in considering my penthouse is like… at the top floor of a skyscraper,” MC agrees, missing the point Rin is insinuating. “Probably through the elevator or the air vent or something. Anyway, Uncle Luka said he’ll personally get a professional pest extermination service to deal with that.”

Well, Rin did catch their father talking with Luka on the phone about choices of professional pest extermination services available in the city. For some reason, Luka asked their dad as if he knows anything more about it than Luka does. Maybe MC is telling the truth and it’s their paranoia and distrust running rampant once again…

Rin uncrosses their arms—when did they even cross them in the first place? “Uh… Tiger balm works wonder for bug bites,” Rin advises.

“Tiger balm, huh?” MC repeats. “Alright, I’ll just go get it at the nearest drug store. Be right back,” they say before swiftly making their way to the elevator.

Meanwhile Rin is left standing there, still processing what has just happened in the span of a few minutes.

Santana

“Hey, Santana!” MC greets them as they walk over to where Santana is standing.

Santana is already cringing inside at the potential awkwardness of the conversation. They’ll still try their best to try talk normally with MC, but it’s kinda hard with the hickeys still heavy in their mind.

“Um… Hi, MC,” they greet back cordially.

“So, how was your night? Had enough sleep?” MC asks them.

“Well, like usual,” they answer distractedly. “How about you? Seems like you had a wild night…” They gesture at the general direction of MC’s neck.

Oh my God, Santana! What the heck are you doing? Asking about the thing you wanted to avoid talking in the first place?! You idiot!

“Oh, you won’t believe this,” MC begins enthusiastically. “So, I was sleeping pretty soundly for like half the night, before my neck started to feel really itchy. I kept getting dragged out of sleep as I scratched at it. Woke up the next morning, and lo and behold, I just got frickin bitten by the most vicious mosquitoes of Elysium City,” they complain, tilting their head a bit to show them of the “hickeys” which turn out to be mosquito bites.

“Huh?” Santana remarks intelligently as they stare at the marks. Okay, now that they can see them better and closer, they do seem like bug bites instead of hickeys.

“I know right?” MC agrees, with… what? Santana is not sure because their mind is blank right now. “Don’t ask me how the mosquitoes managed to break into my penthouse, which, mind you, is located at the top of a skyscraper.”

“That… That is indeed weird,” Santana replies, chuckling in a mix of amusement and relief. It seems like their fear is unfounded after all.

MC continues their rant about the pesky mosquitoes and their plan on eradicating them from their penthouse. Santana just smiles softly as they listen to every word.

Skylar

Skylar quickly makes their way to MC before anyone else manage to make a conversation with them. MC stops in their track as they notice Skylar approaching.

“Hey, MC!” Skylar greets in faux-cheeriness.

“Oh, hey, Skylar,” MC greets back. “What’s up?”

“Well, I should be the one asking you that,” Skylar says, the grin on their face feels very strained but they hope it won’t show and that it still looks charming on the surface. “Who’s the lucky person?” They ask straight to the point, gesturing at the general area of MC’s neck.

“Certainly not me,” MC groans as they rub at their neck. “Just had one of the worst nights of the month.”

“Oh?” Skylar prompts, hopefulness crammed into that one single sound.

Inside, they’re gleeful though. It seems like whoever MC was sleeping with last night must’ve sucked balls—no possible pun intended. Well, this is their time to shine! Skylar would be more than happy to show MC how it’s really done!

“Yeah! I kept waking up at the middle of the night because these annoying mosquito bites were so damn itchy!” MC complains, scratching at their neck again.

Skylar nods before stopping. Wait, what? Mosquito bites? “What?” They ask, dumbfounded. The marks… they’re not…

MC doesn’t seem to notice Skylar’s confusion as they continue ranting, “I don’t even know how they managed to get in! My penthouse is located at the top of a fricking skyscraper!”

A sense of relief floods through Skylar, and their strained grin has shifted into a mischievous one. “Well, I know of a remedy to help with the bites.”

“Wait, really?” MC looks at them curiously. “What’s that?”

“I heard kisses can work wonder.” Skylar winks before pursing their lips and making kissy noises. “I’m always available to help, you know. Just give me a call whenever you’re ready.”

Skylar can practically see the blood surging up to MC’s cheeks. “Y—You—” they stammer. “You idiot! T—That’s not real! If you’re not going to help, then I’ll go to buy some real medicine for these bites instead!” MC harrumphs adorably, turning away to walk to the elevator.

Aww, MC is soo cute! It makes Skylar feels warm and gooey inside as they chuckle to themself. “Well, my offer will always be open! Whether you have more bug bites in the future or not!” They call out to MC’s receding back.

MC doesn’t even turn and just flips them the middle finger instead before stepping inside the elevator. Oh, they love MC.

[vad-hander]

LET’S KEEP IT SECRET Pt.5

pairing: Jaehyun x reader x Yuta

others: SM Rookies, multiple SM and JYP idols

genre: series | idol!au | smut | angst | fluff | slow burn | unrequited love | friends to lovers (oops) | mutual pining | teenage to adults | idol!nct, idol!reader, teenage to adults (trainee days until today)

words: 7k

side note: as usual, I'll appreciate all your feedback and thoughts!

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6

Your hand raised immediately to cover your opened mouth. Fuck. Yuta’s outside. Yuta came here to see you. After months of silence, he shows up so randomly?! You were almost mad how unprepared you were for this meeting.

Like, not even mentally, your appearance was fucking awkward. You danced for the past 5 hours in a room with barely any venting system. You sweated so badly your hair now looked like you didn’t wash it for a week, you were procrastinating in your bed aka waiting for your turn in the shower - because with the number of people on the floor two bathrooms were just not it, you literally had to wait in a queue to shower - so you were in your training sweats and shirt. Ah, you panicked. Your hands automatically reached for your brush - at least you’d braid the mess on your head and not make it too obvious you were fresh out of practice. You roughly ran the brush through your hair, the silent room now filled with you ripping through your hair and awkwardly enough - attracting everyone’s attention to you. How the hell were you supposed to make yourself look presentable without people questioning why you’re acting that way? You braided your hair quickly, trying not to pay too much attention to the curious eyes. You are, at the end of the day, planning to be famous - you have to be used to people watching you, tho its not really the same, but it should be the same in your head in order for you to not flip out. You found your lip balm and hid it in the pocket to not put it on so openly and ran out of the room in pure silence only to return a second after. “I-, ahem, I’m going to the CU, does anyone need anything?“ 

“Yeah, no.“ Jiwon gave you a weird look, crossing eyes with Sieun. Well, okay. 

You didn’t have a second to think if you wanted to slow down or speed up or what you were going to say, you just ran out of the building without any thoughts. You just really wanted to see Yuta with your eyes. Just have him before you no matter how awkward this might be, just look at him. God, why did you not see him?! Your eyes ran across the entrance of the building one time and once again, because there wasn’t anyone. You walked off further into the street, turning the corner of the building, immediately meeting with Yuta’s eyes. You jumped in place and stopped. You weren’t sure if you should sprint off and hug him or let him take the lead. Yuta took a step towards you and you did so too automatically, meeting somewhere in-between. Yuta stared at you and his eyes were trying to drink in every feature on your face, while you were doing the same. You were trying to see if anything changed, if anything was different and it seemed like everything was not the same but at the same time he was just who you remembered him to be. It felt so weird, like some fever dream turn into live or more like a brimmed with romance k-drama moment where two leads finally meet each other after years of separation. The street lights and autumn breeze was adding up to the feeling. You blinked silently at the man like amoeba, not knowing what was the reason behind him coming here, what did he think of you and what you should be acting like in front of him now. What were you? Should you just ask him in the face? You seriously considered, since he watched you without saying a thing.

“I would say that I’m so happy you texted, but if I’m completely honest, I’m so confused at this point.“ you surprised Yuta by breaking the silence.

“Jaehyun told me you two were discussing… us?“ Ugh, he did? You recalled saying something to him along the lines of maybe you can ask him and tell me, but you didn’t expect him go out of his way and actually do it. One more UGH for Jeong Jaehyun. You were beyond conscious of what he might’ve said or discussed with Yuta. 

“That’s pretty exaggerated.“ You weren’t discussing your relationship, you literally cut him off in like two sentences and continued with your exchange of random things that happened in your life in the time being you avoided him. 

“Anyway.“ what was they sigh and the undertone of that word. Was he…pissed off? The tone of his voice was giving something between slight indifference and irritation. 

“Yes, anyway.“ You felt a little more worked up just from the look he gave you. That’s very much not how you imagined the reunion with your boyfriend, or more likely ex-boyfriend by now. “So Jaehyun is the only reason you reached out after months of silence?“ 

“Yes and no. He told me about seeing you and I realised that I would’ve liked it for myself too. To see you, talk to you and everything else.“ Everything else is what…? Touching, hugging, kissing and …? You needed elaboration on this uncertainty. 

“Okay.“ You gave him a nod, very much flabbergasted at the prospect of possibly kissing Yuta. 

“Do you hate me? For leaving you to hang on for this long?“ his eyes pierced through yours. “I reckoned you’ll need a lot of time to process the transfer and new life and new people and I tried to give you space to work everything out. My own debuted and other things got in the way. I took too long and then was just scared and awkward to reach out.“

“But I messaged you. You could’ve said literally anything back.“

“I’m sorry.“ He did sound full of remorse, you’d give him that.

“Well at least you had more than enough time to think everything through.“ You cackled, not able to hold yourself back from coming at him. 

“Right.“

“So… I guess you came here to give me the verdict?“

“I came here to tell you that I’ve been missing you so fucking bad. That I really badly want to talk to you and hug you again and kiss you again. I want to know everything that’s been happening to you recently. I texted you to see if you’d be able to forgive me for taking so long. So…will you forgive me? Are we still on the same page?“ He crushed the words at you like a cannon ball. They were things you wanted to hear, but somehow at the same time you were feeling uneasy at the confession. You had to tell him first thing that came into your mind otherwise the silence felt too deafening. Yuta gripped your palm as proof of what he felt.

“My company…. We have a very strict no dating policy. We’re not even allowed to have a simple crush. Literally anything relationship related is strictly prohibited.“

“You know that SM have all the same rules.“

“No-, like gawking over someone gets you to pack your bags and leave, Yuta.“

“Okay?“ He couldn’t understand where you led him, neither did you.

“And you’re a whole damn man, that comes to see me at night.“ 

“That’s why I didn’t come to the entrance where all those CCTV cams could see us.“

“Yeah.“ You gave him a nod but clearly didn’t acknowledge what he said properly, continuing on with what you were saying “Not even a year ago one of the guys at the company got his contract terminated because he was allegedly breaking the no dating rule. Our producer is very strict with those rules, he says it has to be at least 5 years before we should even think of dating. Otherwise we’re not dedicated enough.“ you paused because you would love to feel Yuta’s grip on your fingers. If he touched you, you would’ve stopped to crash these things at him.

“I see, you’re trying to refuse me.“ How would he make a conclusion like that when you didn’t even know yourself, what you were trying to do.

“No. I’m just stating facts. For you… to consider.“

“I have considered all those things. Nothing’s changed for me. I still find you very beautiful, I’m still deeply attracted to you.“ You felt a butterfly flop inside your chest. This was such a relief to hear - Yuta still wanted you. 

“Me too.“ You half whispered, you really didn’t want to admit something like that out loud where people could see and hear you. You suddenly felt a little conscious doing these things in front of your literal dorm, where you didn’t have friends, but a whole damn building of people that would happily sneak on you to free one more spot in the competition, but the man in front of you didn’t feel the same way. Yuta moved his foot a step forward, knocking it against your shoe. His fingers laced through yours once again in such electrifying movement you almost lost all your consciousness and leaned in to kiss him. Yuta pulled you towards him, taking a couple steps back from the lit up pavement, to the more dark and private space under a tree. 

“Fuck, I really missed even simply holding on to your fingers.“ Yuta sighed miserably. He squeezed your hands like he regretted every previous decision he made and you believed the boy that stood right in front of you. You believed because despite not making a lot of moves to reunite yourself, you longed and waited and held that little something you had between you close to your heart. You believed you were loving him, because you couldn’t say you knew for sure, you didn’t know much about love enough to state it. You loved your dad, because he was your parent, he took care of you, understood you, listened to you, helped you through hardships, took your side when everyone - or more accurately your mom - were against you. You loved Jaehyun, because he was the first person in your life that could understand you. With no mockery, jealousy or humiliation. He reached for the same goals and understood you completely. In addition to that, he knew how to make you smile, how to make you feel better, when you were down. He seemed to genuinely care for you and who you were, he cared for every little thing you told him or showed him. You loved him because his ways of being your friend helped you become a good one for him, or at least, you were hoping you were still in the process to become one. You loved him just because he was Jaehyun, your best friend, your first friend in SM and your first best friend in the whole wide world.

But Yuta… you felt like you loved him because when he kissed you that first time, your whole being flipped. You don’t remember how or why you existed before that. At first you were obviously, clearly very much shocked at the action. A) you were a baby back then, you didn’t really think of anything like that; b) you were scared of anything related to attraction to other people since something like that would clearly take a toll on your success and debut - and maybe it already did - and you just didn’t want to admit. You were loving Yuta in a completely different way - in a way what you considered a grown woman love a grown man. Not sure if the type together forever kind of love, but together for a long time type of way. You were feeling that heaviness of excitement in your chest now that Yuta was staring at you like that. Your feelings might’ve started to feel like nothing in the past weeks, because you were busy and alone and maybe a little hopeless, but him being here right now made it overwhelming. 

“Me too.“ You meowed in his hold. You weren’t able to talk properly, to stand your ground - no way at all. You were mushy in his hold, if he’d pull your hands down, you’d fold right before him in a second. 

“I still am very much in love with you.“ He leaned in and brushed his lips over your cheek. You felt heated in a nano-second, squeezing Yuta’s fingers tighter in your hold. You tried to free one of your hands to hug his waist, but his fingers felt like claws over yours.

“Me too.“ You whispered breathlessly as your mouth tried to find Yuta’s, lick into it even for the briefest moment and then do whatever the hell he would want to, but he moved away and you found it in yourself to talk. “I have to be honest. This company, it really can’t be compared to SM, everything is different and I’m scared. Of how this is going to go, I’m scared that someone is possibly watching us right now and I’m going to get kicked out tomorrow. I am so scared that following what my heart wants in love department will ruin what I want to have in my career. I fear that having a boyfriend is going to end things for me. Maybe for you too. We’re risking a lot. So much, Yuta.“ 

“It’s fine.“ Hm? What does he mean it’s fine…? “Just don’t tell them I’m your boyfriend, just a guy friend from way back. We won’t put a label on it for everyone to see. There’s Jaehyun and there’s me, no difference for everyone else. No one should care about what we’re doing in privacy, when being with each other. Who would care to find out that the difference between me and Jaehyun is that I’m desperately in love with you? Well, huh, wait.“ Yuta paused, smirked and raised an brow at you with his signature playful smile. “How does that make me any different from Jaehyun then?“ Yuta smarted quickly, full on beaming so proud of his own joke. You punched his shoulder playfully, finally being able to get away from his grip. Now that he made jokes about Jaehyun, it almost felt like nothing at all changed. 

-

“Congratulations, boo.“ Jaehyun shoved a bouquet in your face. You smiled, taking the flowers from his grip, giving them barely a glance as your hand turned them facing down. Your eyes darted from one corner to the other, not focusing on Jaehyun even for the slightest second. If you did though, you would’ve noticed how his smile turned downwards as his eyes soaked in your indifference. You were thankful that he came, you were so happy he came for you, but there was a main question that needed to be asked. 

“Where’s Yuta?“ You asked impatiently. Jaehyun’s eyes, that lit up upon your attention on him extinct as he heard your question.

“Don’t know.“ He had to clear his throat before replying. 

“Don’t you live together?“  You scrutinised Jaehyun, almost too accusatory for such a public instance. 

“I’m sorry.“ Jaehyun lowered his gaze to the ground, hitting your heart with a pang and maybe finally bringing you back to your senses. You smiled apologetically, almost poking his cheek at how terribly cute he looked with his head down, apologising for not knowing whereabouts of your not-boyfriend-boyfriend. You pressed Jaehyun’s bouquet to his chest and he jerked his head up in fear at first, relaxing as he saw your soft face expression. Did he think you were going to throw those flowers at him? You almost felt hurt that your best friend thought you were a bitch. 

“You have nothing to apologise for. You came to my graduation despite being a very busy boy.“ You murmured as softly as possible being surrounded by hundreds of other school graduates. Jaehyun showed you his dimples and you took a step forward, keeping the flowers to his chest. “You’re the very best, as usual.“ Jaehyun chuckled and tapped the top of your head.

“Don’t“ he beamed, pleased.

“And very sweet, you didn’t have to buy me peonies.“ You ogled properly the flowers, to not ogle over Jaehyun. His hand on the top of your hair felt like lava dripped down from where he touched you. It felt too hot, despite it being very early February. You found his hand with your free one, touching his palm with yours and making sure it wasn’t even hot, it was your body having thermoregulations issues. 

“You came to my graduation, I came to yours. That’s what best friends do, boo.“ Jaehyun wiggled your fingers in his hold, making you emotional. That’s what best friends do, then what the f is the boyfriend doing - not coming to one important thing in your life. 

“I think ‘boo’ has romantic under text, Jaehyun.“ you chuckled, processing what he called you. “Someone might overhear us and think we’re romantically involved.“ You chuckled at the thought, it seemed a little funny to you, when your eyes still searched for Yuta with peripheral vision. 

“It’s only romantic if you make it sound this way. I was envisioning boo like a ghost, because you’ve been more of a ghost in my life for the past half a year. You’ve been ghosting me, boo.“ He smirked as he smarted his last sentence, and you swallowed a chuckle, moving your head disapprovingly. You hugged him instead of an answer, squeezing the flowers between your bodies because you felt weird and thought it’d be a great shield from direct contact with his body. “Love you.“ Jaehyun whispered lowly above your ear, his arm squeezing your shoulders, the other one patting your back. “Not romantically, in case you’ve started to imagine things.“ He chuckled and you couldn’t stop yourself from pinching his side. 

“Shut up.“ You tried to wiggle out of the hug, Jaehyun’s fingers only gripping tighter onto your shoulder. “I love you, too.“

“I hope no one’s taking pics, huh.“ Jaehyun immediately let go of you, pulling back up the face mask on his face, as if the past 10 minutes weren’t enough to recognise him for whoever wanted to recognise him. 

“I’m here for Jungkook’s graduation.“ he pushed the flowers against your chest once again and took a very big step back. “I don’t even know you. Who are you, again?“ He squeezed his eyes like he couldn’t see you and you shrugged. He was talking at least two times louder, like he couldn’t hear you through the crowd and you needed to keep up with him. 

“Don’t know you either… are you sure you’re Jungkook’s friend? I don’t think he ever mentioned you.“ Your pointing finger made a zigzag in the air, like it could help you remember something. “Do you even see him?“ You smirked because Jaehyun have not stepped a foot away from you since the moment he arrived and it didn’t seem like he was trying to look for anyone else.

“Just lost him out of my sight.“ Jaehyun scratched his forehead like he tried to remember which direction his friend went.

“I see.“ You nodded, smiling because Jaehyun couldn’t keep his face straight. He shoved the flowers against your face to hide you from him.

“Oh! Jaehyunie!“ You heard an exclamation from behind.

“My princess!“ You jumped in place, quickly turning to find the source of that sound, finally training your eyes on the man that tried to crawl through all students and families. 

“Dad!“ You exclaimed and lost yourself in a hug. 

“Congratulations, I’m so proud of you.“ Your dad kissed both your cheeks, before one more bouquet appeared before your eyes. 

“Thank you.“ You smiled and kissed your fathers cheek in return.

“Come here, greet your mother.“ Your mom called for you, somehow her hand settled on Jaehyun’s wrist, the deadly grip making it impossible for him to disappear. You gave your mom a quick hug, and allowed her to kiss your cheek. “We should take a photo together. Jaehyun, take one for us.“

“Of course, ma’am.“ Jaehyun bowed like a well-trained puppy and showed you his dimples for encouragement. Your mum forced the face mask off his face somewhere in the process, you laughed.

“One, two, say kimchi.“ He pressed onto the cameras button and the sound of shutter let you know the photo was taken.

“Now with your mom only.“ Your father pressed you into your mothers side and forced you to smile, taking the camera out of Jaehyun’s grip. He stood there awkwardly, next to your dad like he was next in line for something. Another sound of shutter. “Now with me only.“ Your dad took the spot next to you and you tried to pose more enthusiastically than before. Click and the pic is done. Jaehyun blinked quietly, when it felt like a perfect que for him to exit the scene, your dad made it impossible “With Jaehyun now, too!“

“It’s fine.“ Your friend protested as he read confusion on your face. It wasn’t even confusion, you just wanted a picture with Yuta on your graduation day and you were not getting one and you were hurt. You would trade a photo with Jaehyun in a heartbeat to one with Yuta. You anyway had hundreds of pics with Jaehyun, it wouldn’t hurt if you had one less.

“No, come here, Jungkook’s friend.“ you gestured for him to get to you.

“Okay, princess.“ He mocked, making the tone of his voice funny trying to impersonate your dad. You rolled your eyes in fake annoyance, immediately being gagged by your own body when Jaehyun’s arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you into his side. Your head turned to see Jaehyun, because you were flabbergasted all of a sudden and needed to see if he felt any of that. Seemed like he didn’t, he cracked a smile, showing off his dimples, fingers of his free hand forming a V. Sound of shutter and there you have a picture of you staring up at Jaehyun. “One more!“ You shout before anyone could move from their place.

Jaehyun, thank god, moved his hand off your waist to drop it on top of your head and smiled once again. You smiled too, snugging an arm over his waist this time. 

“One, two, three, kimchi!“ Your dad announced loudly and you tickled Jaehyun’s side, forcing a chuckle out his throat. It sounded so unusually low you needed a second to process what that was, because he suddenly make your insides tremble with how low that sound was. You stole a quick glance at Jaehyun, seeing how that tickle made his whiskers appear, you prayed he’d have them visible in the photo too. 

You unglued yourself from your best friend when the two of you stood too close for too long. 

“Who’s Jungkook?“ Your mom wondered.

“Jaehyun’s friend that graduates today too.“ You stated the simple truth.

“Do you know him?“ What did she mean by that? Why did she care? Oh god.

“Jaehyun, do you want to join us for celebratory lunch? Of course, if only your schedule allows you to join us.“ Your dad slightly bowed like Jaehyun was some sort of serious politician, sportsman or at least a senior to him. 

“He’s a celebrity now! Of course he doesn’t have time to dine with us!“ Your mom waved off your father at the silly suggestion.

“No, no, mr and missis y/l/n, I would gladly join your lunch to celebrate graduation of your daughter.“ Jaehyun almost bowed 90 degrees in deepest reverence for your parents and you had to physically catch his shoulder mid way to stop him at least at 45 degrees.

“Ah! Jaehyunie! The tone of your voice, it’s so deep and charming! I can’t believe it, just last time I saw you it wasn’t like that“ Your mom hid her face in her hands in shock, she acted like a whole different person when it came to Jaehyun, you hated how she couldn’t do the same to Yuta, or you. You really didn’t want to remind her she saw him more than a year ago and that his voice has been this way for a little while.

“It just happened overnight.“ Jaehyun chuckled, his ears suddenly turning pink, as he walked in front of you with your parents. You wondered if you’d trail off the route, how quickly they’d notice you were gone.

-

“What is this?“ you felt a rush of warmth throughout your body, making your palm immediately sweaty in Yuta’s hold. You don’t know exactly why would you ask the question, when you could see very clearly for yourself the words above the entrance. Motel. And the door was graced with a piece of paper, that read hourly rates applicable. You felt warm rashes through your body every time you read those words and if you continued you most likely would’ve fell on the floor from high blood pressure. The door opened and you tore your hand from Yuta’s hold, hiding your face even more behind the mask and the cap you wore. You had another rash of sweat down your spine as you saw people walk down the stairs, both the man and the lady looked like they had sex just a minute ago, which honestly most likely wasn’t a mistake. It was an hourly motel, at the end of the day.

“A place, where you and I can be one on one with no fear of being seen, disturbed or whatever.“ Yuta found your hand once again and squeezed it.

“It’s an hourly motel.“ You said out loud and felt even more sweat form on your lower back. If Yuta wasn’t able to distinguish your feelings by your face that hid behind clothing, he should’ve definitely felt it in the tone of your voice. You almost lost balance on your two feet as another couple walked past you, this time inside the building and if it wasn’t for Yuta’s grip on you, you would’ve took off away right then and there. 

“Yes, it doesn’t matter. Does it? You and me together is the only thing that matters.“

“What if someone sees us?“ Your throat gave up on you as the thought gave you a whiplash. 

“Trust me, just trust me. Come on.“ Yuta moved your body in front of his, grabbing your face with his hands. Despite your endless will to trust him, you were having second hand thoughts on the idea. “Do you really want to leave? I promise you, I really tried to pick a good one. Coming in or leaving?“ Yuta asked concerned, now that he was able to see your eyes he could very clearly tell that you were concerned - well who wouldn’t - and tried to make you feel better. 

“Coming in.“ your voice sounded weaker than usual. Yuta smiled and kissed your face, where he’d guessed through the mask your mouth was and dragged you behind himself.

“Why are you not taking the mask off?“ Yuta glanced quickly at your unmoving body on the corner of the bed, before continuing with whatever he was doing in his backpack. The thing did seem packed to the brim and you were curious what Yuta had in there, before he brought you to the hourly motel. It did look nice inside, despite the room being small and obviously cheap - it was relatively fresh renovation and almost didn’t look like you rented this thing for 5 hours, though you couldn’t kill the thought of people coming in here to specifically have sex, and you couldn’t stop thinking on the number of people that had sex in this exact room and you couldn’t stop thinking how you most likely are going to end up doing the same thing and what’s even worse than that, you couldn’t stop thinking-

“What if there’s a hidden camera? Or worse… many cameras?“ You couldn’t even lift your hand to reveal your face to possibly hidden viewers in this room. 

“What?“ Yuta chuckled at your -ridiculous- suggestion, before swallowing and leaving his backpack alone to stand in front of you. The bed had tall legs, allowing Yuta to not bend too much to be on your level. His fingers squeezed your cheeks and forced the face mask down your face. “I wouldn’t bring you to some weird ass place with sperm sprayed all over the walls.“ Well, good, but still, you would’ve appreciated an actual hotel much more. “I heard good things about this place from my friends… well, because not everyone is Jeong Jaehyun with an apartment in Apgujeong.“ there was no emotion in the tone of his voice, he was just saying things he thought, but it stung so fucking badly how he always had to put Jaehyun in comparison. Even if his family home was in the most expensive district of Seoul, it didn’t mean Yuta was any poor coming here from Japan. He was poor because in the circumstance he was a foreigner with no home and was sent a certain amount by his parents, not because he didn’t have any money at home. It wasn’t about Jaehyun or this place or anything else at all. It was about you and Yuta, but somehow he wanted it to be about someone else too. “Anyway, my friends come here sometimes, it’s not too low class, at least these sheets are clean, okay? Once I have a better option, we won’t have to do it like that.“

“Okay.“ You gave Yuta an unnoticeable nod, his lips brushing the corner of your lips in reply. 

“There’s no hidden cam, don’t even think of such things. I wouldn’t bring you to a place like that nor would I risk my very real career for a fuck.“ Very real as if in what you were doing wasn’t that real? Or were you trying to read between the lines too much because you were in a very smitten mood. Almost in a mood where if you weren’t your usual mushy self when it came to Yuta you would’ve stood up and left. Because this was making you feel uncomfortable to an extent you can’t describe. “It’s your birthday, I just wanted us to be together. I have a surprise, close your eyes.“ Yuta smiled at you sweetly, like when he wanted you to do things he wanted and you didn’t. You gave him a smile too, because you were getting all grumpy and unfriendly because whatever this was didn’t meet with your expectations. You pecked his lips and closed your eyes with a smile on your lips that hurt a little, because you were trying really hard not to think of your last birthday, when Jaehyun invited you to that Apgujeong home and made you feel happy. 

You listened to Yuta’s shuffling, probably in that backpack of his, finally you felt his knees bump into yours as he got back in front of you and you felt his fingers wrap around yours. “You can open your eyes.“ And you did so on command, met with a view of Yuta in a birthday hat, throwing a spiral confetti in your face. “Happy birthday!“

“Thank you.“ You smiled, flinching as the thrown confetti almost hit your face. Yuta’s now free hand pushed your cap off your head, forcefully putting on a party cone that said birthday girl. You chuckled sincerely, helping Yuta with the elastic band over your chin. 

“I love you, birthday girl.“ you beamed because despite what you just thought and felt you loved him too. Yuta leaned in to you a little more making the ring on his necklace visible from his shirt, you didn’t even have a second to think, you just leaned in and kissed his mouth, because there was nothing else to do. The past year have been very tough on the both of you. You started it off badly with your transition and after that long break of not talking to each other you rebuild what you had in a very low-key manner. Too low-key even for your liking, you couldn’t imagine what Yuta felt like. You could quite possibly count on your fingers the number of times the two of you kissed, so kissing him like this felt a little unreal. Just your lips on Yuta’s, being able to move slowly, marking every bit of his mouth with love and need, to be in his arms and continue kissing him like that. You invited Yuta’s tongue in your mouth, as he moved it slowly against your closed lips. He finally grabbed onto your neck, allowing for you to slightly back up against his hold, because it was hard for you to hold your composure. You almost forgot how good of a kisser Yuta was - not that you had anyone to compare it to - your tongue licked against his and as your body leaned back against the mattress, Yuta chased your mouth, not wishing to break the kiss even for a moment, finding balance next to your shoulders. “You’re making it incredibly hard to focus on anything else, my love.“ Yuta found it in him to pull away for a moment, only to lean back in and kiss your cupids bow, pressing his nose against your cheek. 

“What were you planning to do, bringing me to an hourly motel?“ You chuckled, not even annoyed anymore, just curious because it did sound a little funny to you.

“We probably spent less than 24 hours together in a whole damn year since your last birthday. Doing anything together is fine. I mean it when I say I miss you.“ Yuta bit onto his lip, staring you down. “I haven’t seen you up close like this probably in a whole fucking year, and you’re my girlfriend. How ridiculous is that?“  

“I always think of that time we went to Japan and had a real nice date. That is the sweetest thing anyone ever did to me.“

“Me too, I always think about that night.“ Yuta’s lips kissed your jaw, as his body dropped on the bed next to you, unable to hold his bodyweight with his arms any longer. “When your first vacation comes, first thing we’re doing - a trip anywhere, just you and me.“

“Promise?“ Your heart chirped, that’s exactly a promise you needed from him.

“Yes, love, promise.“ Yuta cosied himself on the mattress, snaking both his hands to lay half of you on top of him. 

“What if our schedules don’t ever match up?“ You worried.

“I don’t think it’s possible for us to never match in schedules. Don’t worry, I’ll make it work for you.“ Yuta’s fingers trailed a line from your elbow to the shoulder. You had to swallow, because you really wanted to ask him why would he not make it work for your school graduation when Jaehyun did make it work. Jaehyun, who was a little busier with schedules than Yuta, you needed to be a blind fool to not notice how your friend had side gigs and Yuta didn’t. He had no excuse to not come, the thought been eating you up for months. You had to swallow it once again, because you didn’t want to fight, because maybe not saying a thing about it now, months after, was the best thing for you. Maybe Yuta couldn’t even remember by now, since he never brought it up himself.

-

You rolled your arms before your body, bouncing slightly on the floor to the beat, as the last beat approached, you counted in your head 1 and 2 and 3 and 4, and stood up gracefully with a turn in the ending pose. After a pause for not longer than 5 seconds you heard intensive clapping and even sounds of encouragement behind you. 5 people in front of you though kept their faces emotionless, but somehow it didn’t faze you anymore. They always tried to keep that mysterious aura, fear everyone to insecurity and plain panic, but if you worked hard they didn’t usually say a bad thing-or more likely you didn’t hear them say bad things to you and others-, well, you developed an ability of turning your brain off as soon as your bum met with the floor and you weren’t sure how things went for others. It’s been a year and you still didn’t make many friends in the company and at this point pretty much gave up and kept everyone as friendly acquaintance. At least they didn’t want to be mean in your face, fake friendliness you could bare with. Everyone clapped and cheered because it’d paint them as supportive friends and good people - more points when it comes to evaluations. You knew the rule and followed it yourself, this clearly wasn’t the place to be not like other girls, but it didn’t change anything.

You bent a little and caught your breath in two heavy breathes, straining your back back at the evaluation committee. 

“Good.“ Your choreographer nodded to fellow evaluators. “Questions, notes, grades?“ 

“Could you share with us why you chose the choreography and the song?“ Mr.Lee, the creative director asks you.

“Theme of this month is hip-hop, we had guest choreographers this month that helped us improve our hip-hop skills. I wanted to do something fresh and relevant, something that would allow for you to see my improvement, but wouldn’t be a copy-paste of things we did in class. Seemed like a perfect choice.“ You noticed a slight nod in the oratory teachers’ head, you breathed in satisfied - you definitely checked off a box in her list. 

“Wasn’t the song released on Wednesday? You learned it in one day?“ your choreographer continued with the questions, only to be interrupted by JYP himself.

“You didn’t prepare for the evaluation well? Choosing a song so new is very irresponsible.“ The song was released just a day ago, they were right, but you did prepare for the evaluation thoroughly. You’ve been learning this choreo whenever you had an opportunity to see or hear Yuta, whenever the two of you face timed or very rarely talked in person. You would’ve told them the truth if it didn’t borne more questions and awkward stares. Your only option was to claim you were able to learn it in one glance.  

“No, I was preparing GOT7’s Never Ever, but heard the NCT song yesterday and thought how it clearly fits the hip-hop theme better. Changed my choice last minute.“ Yes, you somehow had the crazy idea of doing Cherry Bomb for the monthly evaluation in a day after it was released. You hoped it was believable you were able to learn the dance in a day. They looked at you for a few seconds and you didn’t understand the meaning behind the stare. “I believe I was able to show my own colour while following the choreography flawlessly and be on theme.“ You stated confidently, they tried to push you into insecurity - it was their way of doing things, one of already debuted artists at the company shared the life hack. Stand your ground and talk confidently - they’ll accept any answer as long as they don’t see you flinch at persistence. 

“If you learned the choreo that flawlessly in a day it’s impressive.“ Your choreographer smiled at you in a very low-key manner and you bowed, to show your gratitude and hide traces of a smile you swallowed.

“Did you learn the whole dance or just the dance break?“ Your eyes darted back at JYP that seemed curious. 

You knew by heart the whole thing through Yuta’s part. The only reason you chose the dance break hid behind the fact that somehow NCT had the most embarrassing dance moves throughout the song and doing all those jumps and weird hand movements in front of all these people on your own would’ve killed you. For real. The dance break plus last chorus including that part where you had to drop on your back for the ending point was the perfect fit for the 60 seconds you were given to perform. 

“I learned most of the song, but I enjoyed the dance break and chorus the most, thus decided to show that part.“

“Okay, I have nothing to add. If you’re ready, we can get to singing.“ you nodded and took a step to the mark on the floor. 

You had a tingling sensation of nervousness at the back of your neck. It was always advised to not take long to start off, otherwise you could possibly be asked to step away as unprofessional. You took a breath and made a sound with your throat. 

“Ah, I heard you took first place in your evaluation group.“ Yeji smiled at you, you gave her a barely noticeable nod as you and a bunch of other people left the elevator. “Cool, that means we’re training in the same group for the upcoming month.“ You stopped midway as you were pulling your mask up, almost automatic move as you were leaving the building. 

“You placed first?“ You exclaimed, your voice resonating probably through the whole hall. She gave you an excited nod, and you felt so happy for her. She worked so hard to beat everyone this time and you jumped excitedly, squeezing the girl in front of you excitedly. She clearly was taken aback for a moment, hence the two of you never hugged or had much physical contact in the past year, but you felt happy for her and maybe felt like it was the time to break the wall. You let go of Yeji, grabbing her wrists next and jumping excitedly, making the girl hyped up and jump with you. “Yay! Yeji, I’m so proud of you.“ Your fingers squeezed the life out of her wrists. “They want us to do duet for this month, to see how well we work in smaller teams.“

“Really? I haven’t heard of this months’ theme yet. If you don’t have a partner yet, it’d be such an honour for me to pair up with you.“

“Stop! It’s no honour and I would love to work on something with you.“

“Yay!“ She clapped and her pretty eyes and smile made you so happy. You genuinely felt happy for her, you genuinely felt proud. You felt a little flare up in your chest that you didn’t want it to ignite too much, but the thought crossed your mind anyway. If only we could debut together.