#he's not scared just mildly annoyed with his surroundings

[ahqkas]

Could you do one with the batboys having a S/O that gets lost easily and finds them at the most random places? Like they get lost in the mansion one day trying to find the kitchen and they somehow end up outside, que the batboys "mildly" panicking because their S/O has been gone for an hour. Please and thank you 🙏

♯LOST AND FOUND

— gn!reader, mention of reader’s hair in bruce’s & dick’s

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

THE WAYNE MANOR WAS A LABYRINTH—an elegant, sprawling maze of hallways, grand staircases, and secret rooms. it didn’t matter how many times you visited; no amount of “turn left at the portrait” or “take the second right after the library” advice ever stuck with you. you had been in this house dozens of times, and yet, somehow, you still managed to find yourself in the strangest, most unexpected places.

today was no different. you’d innocently set out in search of the kitchen, craving a snack while your boyfriend was busy with his family in the batcave. alfred had mentioned fresh-baked cookies earlier ( your favorite kind ) , and the thought had been enough to motivate you and set you off on your own. armed with directions you thought you’d memorized, you’d confidently strode off down the hall.

and then . . . nothing looked familiar.

at first, you thought you’d missed a turn. then you became certain the house had grown a new wing overnight because the rooms and corridors you passed were entirely unfamiliar. determined not to call your boyfriend for help—again—you kept walking, convinced the kitchen had to be just around the next corner.

somehow, “just around the next corner” turned into a venture outside, where you found yourself on a cobblestone path surrounded by perfectly trimmed hedges. the late afternoon sun painted the sprawling grounds in hues of gold, but the idyllic scene did little to soothe your rising exasperation.

“this isn’t the kitchen,” you muttered to yourself, looking around in disbelief.

. . . BRUCE WAYNE !

meanwhile, bruce was beginning to notice your absence. he’d glanced at the clock more than once, each glance sending a ripple of unease through him. you’d left nearly an hour ago, and the mansion, while vast, wasn’t that confusing—well, not to him, at least.

setting down his pen, he leaned back in his chair, a faint crease forming between his brows. he told himself not to worry. you were probably fine. maybe you’d gotten distracted by something or decided to take a walk. but after another five minutes of no sign of you, his patience wore thin. where were you?

he stood abruptly, striding out of the study and calling your name as he began his search for you. his footsteps echoed through the hallways, and as each empty room passed, his worry grew.

“couldn’t have gone far,” the batman muttered to himself, though his mind raced with increasingly unpleasant scenarios. what if you’d fallen somewhere? what if you were stuck in one of the secret passages? scared, alone, with no way to return to him? yeahhh, that frightened him just right.

his search eventually led him outside, where he spotted you—utterly unharmed, but clearly annoyed as you stood in the middle of the garden, hands on your hips, muttering something he couldn’t hear.

“there you are,” bruce called, his voice a mix of relief and exasperation as he hurried toward you.

you turned, startled, but your expression softened when you saw him. “oh, hey. what’s up?”

“what’s up?” he repeated, stopping in front of you with a look that was both amused and incredulous. “you’ve been gone for an hour. i thought something happened to you.”

“oh,” you said sheepishly, glancing around. the time didn’t mean anything out here. “i got . . . a little lost.”

“a little?” his lips twitched, fighting a smile as he took in your surroundings. “you’re in the gardens. weren’t you looking for the kitchen?”

“i was!” you insisted, throwing your hands up in defeat. “but somewhere between the portrait gallery and the second staircase, i made a wrong turn, and well, here we are.”

bruce shook his head, his expression softening as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “you could’ve called me, you know.”

“i didn’t want to bother you,” you admitted. “besides, i thought i could figure it out on my own.”

he sighed, his thumb brushing lightly against your temple in an affectionate gesture. “you’re never a bother. next time, call me. or alfred. i don’t like the idea of you wandering around this house like it’s a corn maze.”

. . . DICK GRAYSON !

you had zero sense of direction.

inside the manor, dick was finishing up his workout when he realized something was off. you weren’t in the gym with him. you weren’t in the living room, the library, or even his old room you two used whenever you decided to spend the night in the manor.

initially, he wasn’t too worried about your well-being. it wasn’t uncommon for you to explore the manor and its grounds when he was busy. but after twenty minutes of calling your name and finding no sign of you, his easygoing demeanor shifted into mild panic. it was like you’ve been swallowed by the ground, no traces or proof that you were here.

“maybe the kitchen,” he muttered to himself, retracing the path he thought you’d take. but the kitchen was empty, the dining room too.

“alfred?” dick called out, jogging into the study. “have you seen [name]?”

alfred, ever calm and composed, shook his head. “not recently, master grayson. though if [name] was attempting to navigate the manor alone . . .”

“don’t remind me,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair. he knew you had a tendency to get lost—easily—but this was next level. his mind raced through the possibilities. were you stuck somewhere? had you wandered into one of the less-used wings? where could he find you?

finally, on a hunch, he headed outside, his heart skipping a beat when he spotted you standing near the fountain, arms crossed, glaring at the house like it had personally offended you ( and let’s be real, it kinda did ).

“there you are!” his loud voice carried across the lawn as he jogged over.

you turned at the sound of his voice, relief washing over your face. “dick! thank god. i thought i’d end up living out here.”

he stopped in front of you, hands on his hips, catching his breath. “do you have any idea how long i’ve been looking for you? you’ve been gone for an hour.”

“it hasn’t been an hour,” you countered, though you glanced at your phone and winced. “. . . ‘kay, maybe close to an hour.”

“what happened?” he asked, his exasperation softened by the amused smile creeping onto his face. as much as he was worried sick about you for the past half an hour, he wouldn’t miss the opportunity to tease you relentlessly after he made sure you’re more than okay.

“i was trying to find the kitchen, and then one wrong turn led to another, and somehow . . . you gestured at the sprawling green around you. “ . . . here i am.”

he pinched the bridge of his nose, torn between laughing and pulling you into a hug. “you do realize you could’ve called me, right?”

“i didn’t want to interrupt your workout,” you said sheepishly. “plus, i thought I could figure it out on my own.”

dick shook his head, stepping closer and resting his hands on your shoulders. “you’re something else, you know that?”

“hey, at least i didn’t wander into the batcave this time.”

“don’t remind me.” he chuckled, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “next time, just call me, okay? you’re too important to go missing for an hour without me knowing where you are.”

as you walked back together, you couldn’t help but feel a little grateful for your terrible sense of direction. after all, it gave dick another excuse to keep you close—and he wasn’t about to complain.

. . . JASON TODD !

it should have been simple—just follow the directions your boyfriend had given you: down the hall, past the grandfather clock, first left. there’s the kitchen.

easy, right?

wrong.

somewhere after the grandfather clock, you’d gotten distracted by a painting. then a turn you thought was the right one deposited you into a hallway filled with suits of armor, which definitely didn’t lead to the kitchen.

“okay,” you muttered to yourself, looking around for any sign of familiarity. “i can figure this out.”

spoiler: you couldn’t.

what started as a confident stride through the manor became a journey through increasingly unfamiliar territory. at one point, you ended up in a library you were pretty sure wasn’t the main one, and at another, you swore you saw the same suit of armor twice.

then, somehow, you found a door leading outside.

now standing in the middle of the garden, you let out an exasperated sigh. “this is fine. completely fine. i’ll just . . . enjoy the fresh air until i figure out where i am.”

back in the manor, jason was starting to get worried.

you’d been gone for nearly an hour. the kitchen wasn’t that far, and he’d walked you through the directions at least three times. at first, he figured you’d gotten distracted by something, but after calling your name a few times and not getting a response, a knot of unease formed in his chest.

“babe?” he called, heading toward the kitchen himself. it was empty.

a quick search of the living room and study turned up nothing, and his patience wore thinner with each passing minute. “you’ve gotta be kidding me,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he checked another hallway.

by the time he reached the garden door and spotted you standing near a hedge, staring at a rosebush like it held all the answers to the universe, he was caught somewhere between relief and exasperation.

“there you are,” he called out, striding toward you.

you turned, startled by his voice, before breaking into a sheepish grin. “oh, hey, jay. what’s up?”

“what’s up?” he echoed, stopping in front of you with a look of disbelief on his face. “you’ve been gone for an hour. i thought you fell into one of bruce’s secret tunnels or something.”

“i didn’t mean to!” you protested, gesturing at the manor. “i got lost. again.” not an unfamiliar situation for you.

he pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a long sigh. “how do you even manage to get lost this badly? the kitchen is literally the easiest room to find.”

“well, not for me,” you replied, crossing your arms and letting your eyes set into a light glare. “this place is like a maze. and in my defense, your directions weren’t super clear, either.”

he raised an eyebrow. “not super clear? i told you to turn left after the grandfather clock.”

“okay, but what about the painting next to it? was i supposed to pass that too?”

“you don’t take directions like suggestions,” he said, a teasing smirk creeping onto his lips despite his earlier frustration.

you huffed, but before you could respond, he pulled you into his arms, holding you close.

“seriously, though,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “i was starting to think something happened to you.”

your expression softened as you wrapped your arms around him. “i didn’t mean to worry you. i just . . . have the worst sense of direction.”

“yeah, no kidding,” he teased, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “but next time, just call me, okay? you’ve got my number, and i’ve got a built-in gps for this place.”

. . . TIM DRAKE !

TIM HAD GIVEN YOU DIRECTIONS to the kitchen before he went to work in the cave, but between the hallways that seemed to stretch forever and the identical-looking doors, you were hopelessly lost within five minutes.

“okay, past the piano room, and then . . . left? or was it right?” you muttered to yourself, trying to backtrack.

your stomach grumbled in protest. the kitchen wasn’t supposed to be far, but every turn you made seemed to lead to another unfamiliar wing of the manor. you wandered through a corridor lined with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the expansive grounds. one window was cracked open, and a soft breeze tugged at your curiosity.

“maybe the kitchen has a garden entrance?” you reasoned aloud, stepping through the side door.

before you knew it, you were outside, standing near a hedge maze that seemed like a metaphor for your situation at that moment. “great,” you muttered. “lost inside and outside. perfect.”

you plopped down on a bench near the maze entrance, deciding to take a breather before figuring out how to get back. the breeze was nice, the gardens were peaceful . . . maybe this wasn’t so bad.

meanwhile, in the batcave, tim was focused on a particularly stubborn piece of tech when he glanced at the clock and realized you’d been gone for an hour.

an hour. to get to the kitchen.

at first, he brushed it off, assuming you’d gotten distracted by something—probably a painting or one of the endless wayne family heirlooms like you always did.

but when you didn’t answer his texts and a quick check of the kitchen proved empty, he started to worry.

“alfred?” he called, jogging up the stairs. “have you seen [name]?”

“not since they went looking for the kitchen,” the old butler replied, though there was a faint twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

tim sighed, running a hand through his hair. “they’re lost again, aren’t they?”

“quite possibly.”

your boyfriend set off to search, his worry growing as he checked room after room. the library, the sitting room, even the game room—all empty. “where are you?” he muttered, glancing out a window just in time to spot a familiar figure sitting outside near the hedge maze. relief washed over him, quickly followed by exasperation.

he made his way outside, his footsteps crunching on the gravel path as he approached. “there you are,” he said, his voice a mix of relief and incredulity.

you looked up, startled, and then gave him a sheepish smile. “hey, tim. uh, fancy seeing you here?”

“you’ve been gone for an hour. the kitchen is inside the house.”

“i know,” you said quickly, standing up. “but i got a little turned around, and then j thought maybe there was an outside entrance, and—”

“and you ended up here,” he finished for you, gesturing to the hedge maze. “why didn’t you call me?”

“i didn’t want to bother you,” you admitted, your voice small.

he sighed, stepping closer and resting his hands on your shoulders. “you’re never bothering me. especially not when you’re wandering around like a lost puppy.”

“hey!” you protested, though you couldn’t help but smile at the affectionate teasing in his tone.

tim shook his head, a soft grin tugging at his lips. “come on, let’s get you back inside before you decide to explore the maze and I have to send out a search party.”

[carolmunson]

because you were home.

the first entry of my fall frenzy extravaganza

this request comes in from @sweetsweetjellybean: "i would like to request watching a scary movie with steve and eddie that ends with 2 dicks one hole." summary: mildly inspired by 'the strangers' movie. steddie x reader. you and your two boyfriends watch a scary movie even though you hate them. a scary dream wakes you up to more than you bargained for, but they're happy to make up for it. (aka, carol tries some subtle horror/suspense writing for the first time ever!) cw: 18+, established throuple, dvp (double vaginal penetration), oral (f and m receiving), mmf threesome, pet names: angel, babydoll, sweetheart, etc., reader refers to eddie and steve as daddy/sir once or twice but its not like -- their dynamic -- not a dom/sub scenario (justice for steve being sir for once!), swearing, mild horror elements

“Ooh, shiii-hi-hit. Fuck that.” “What’s happening?” you ask, your voice muffled by Steve’s shoulder where your face had been planted for the last four minutes. “No matter how many scary movies I see, nothing creeps me out like this scene, man,” Eddie shakes his head, another handful of popcorn crunching into his mouth.  “What. Is. Happening?” you ask again, frustrated at your own inability to just look – but you didn’t wanna miss out on the scare-factor.

“Nothing, baby,” Steve chuckles, warm and sweet. His big hand gives your bicep a comforting squeeze, running his palm slowly over the skin before he pulls you closer, “One of the weirdos is just standing there, nothing’s happening.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t say nothing’s happening – it’s one of the most quietly suspenseful and unsettling scenes in modern horror,” Eddie argues while your head pops up. As soon as your eyes meet his, shining from the light of the TV in the living room, he grins – the one he always does when he’s about to be an asshole.

“Let me rewind it for you,” his smirk lingers when he reaches for the remote, “You can’t miss it – it’s like, niche horror iconography.”

“C’mon Ed, you know she doesn’t like it,” Steve’s defense almost feels patronizing, sinking in your chest even while his arm tightens around you, “She never wants to do movie night when it’s scary.” 

“C’mon Ed, you know she doesn’t like it,” Steve’s defense almost feels patronizing, sinking in your chest even while his arm tightens around you, “She never wants to do movie night when it’s scary.” “No, it’s fine – I’ll just, I’ll watch it,” you sigh, eyes reaching the ceiling with a faux annoyed huff, “For the iconography.” “Atta girl,” Eddie rewinds while you climb over Steve to get between them. If the room hadn’t been so dark, you’d see Ed’s flush while you make yourself comfortable. Always a sucker for affection, he leans in close, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Bein’ so brave.” He starts the scene over again, a few minutes before, both of them scooching in next to you. You’re used to the heat now, the warmth of them near you, tied up between them. At first it was hard to balance it – who touches where, who holds what – but having them both became a waltz you danced well. The both of them easily knowing the rhythms of you and each other in healthy and decadent symbiosis.  “Will you just – stay on the phone with me?” Liv Tyler’s voice booms through Steve’s surround sound, the dial tone humming loudly afterwards, “James? … James?�� You let a breath out through your nose, watching her walk through the house on the screen, settling on lighting a cigarette before walking into the kitchen. She stands there for a moment before the screen cuts to a wide, you already feel sick. There’s no music, no sound, just Liv in the kitchen with darkness back behind her. With no warning, he appears, the man in the mask, in complete silence. 

Your stomach drops, throat feeling tight when you watch him stand there watching her. You hardly feel soothed when he disappears, knowing it can only get worse from here. The killers are in the house. 

Steve and Eddie see your face, the way your brows pull in, the way you shrink in on yourself. “Poor baby,” Steve soothes rubbing his hand on your back, “C’mere, I’ll protect you.” “You couldn’t outsmart these guys,” Eddie’s matter-of-fact tone makes Steve tense up, “Sorry. They’re in it for the thrill, man. They don’t care about your macho shit.” “That’s not reassuring,” you laugh, snuggling into Steve while Eddie lets his hand smooth over your thigh, “I need you both to protect me.” “Of course,” Eddie smiles, “We’d both keep you safe, for sure.” “For sure,” Steve nods, kissing the top of your head. Your hand creeps forward to lace your fingers with Eddie’s, still resting on your leg while the movie continues. 

“James?” Liv says again on screen, heading to the drawer for a kitchen knife when a bang is heard somewhere off screen. You can’t help it, your face buries itself in Steve’s shoulder when the action picks up, doing your best to be brave and failing miserably. It’s not for nothing, your failure – they both have a great time laughing at you. 

You’re pouty when the movie is over,  the kisses aren’t helping for the first time in a while. There’s a general unease in your stomach – some horror was fine, but horror that could happen just didn’t compartmentalize as well. Your stomach sinks more when you see Eddie put his jacket on. “You’re not staying over with us?” you ask. Eddie’s shoulders sink while he shrugs on the leather, “Sorry baby, I have an early shift tomorrow. Gotta sleep at mine to be close to the garage. Why, you scared?” You nod, “Is that stupid?” “No,” he grins, “But you have Steve, he can protect you, too.” “You literally said he couldn’t outsmart them,” you try to laugh but it sounds more like a desperate plea, heart rate rising. “It’s a movie, honey,” Steve’s balmy voice soothing you while he comes back in the living room from cleaning up, “Just relax.” “You want the number one tension goblin to relax?” Eddie scoffs, “Good luck with that.” A kiss to both of your cheeks is Eddie’s last parting gift to you and Steve before he goes, the rev of his motorcycle being the only signal that he’s gone for the night. Steve’ burly tan arm wraps around your shoulder to lead you both back to the couch. “How about this,” he starts, pulling your legs over his lap, “We can watch something funny and then go to bed, s��that sound good for you?” You nod eagerly, shoulders loosening up while he flicks through the channel listings. “They have Austin Powers on TBS, you wanna watch that? It looks like they’re playing all of ‘em,” his amber eyes fall on you with a smile, rubbing your shin up to your knee. He changes the channel when you give him the okay, watching you snuggle in on the couch with tired eyes. It’s not long into the first movie that Steve’s nudging you to wake up so you can both go upstairs to bed. 

You wake from a dream that makes your heart race in the bad way, losing the plot completely when your eyes open. The room is dark, only some light from Steve’s security cameras outside leaving shadows against the wall from the curtains.You turn and reach your arm out to shake Steve awake but you’re met with nothing but empty sheets, cooled down from the lack of a body there to warm them. You pout while your heart pounds, taking a few deep breaths to try to steady yourself to go back to sleep. He’s probably in the bathroom – but that thought makes you have to pee. With a sigh you get up, gingerly getting out of bed and scanning the room. Even though you fell asleep laughing to Mike Meyers the uneasy feeling in your chest never quite shook away. You pad down the hall to the bathroom, confused when you see that it’s empty. Maybe he went to get a drink or something in the kitchen. You do your business, leaving the bathroom and listening for Steve downstairs from the top of the staircase, peering down into the dark living room. It’s quiet. “Steve?” you call out. 

Nothing. 

The blue black of the dark house stares back at you, you swallow thickly. The pin pricks of fear that you woke up with creep down your neck and the top of your back, they sting up from the balls of your feet. You try to muster up the courage to call out again. “St-steve? You there?” you call out, your voice weak. 

Nothing. 

You take another breath, shakier than before. Maybe he’s using the half bath down stairs. You shake your head, rolling your shoulders and taking a step away from the staircase to go back to bed. Two steps in and your body is jolted by the blast of the stereo in the living room, the lights from the machine whirring on while music blares through the speakers. ‘My first lover, My first lover, He was tall and breezy with his long hair down. But it gets a little hazy when I think of it now…’

You run down the stairs to shut it off, certain the neighbors heard it, Your heart hammers in your chest, blood pounding in your ears while you slam the buttons and hold your hands to the cool machinery. You feel sick, bile creeping up your throat while you breathe in and out again.

“STEVE?!” you shout out, tears welling in your eyes, “Steve! This – this isn’t funny…”

But again.

With the music off.

Nothing. 

You grab a heavy trophy from one of the shelves, a nationals first place from when Steve won the freestyle stroke in college – no one’s ever beat his PR. You inch through the living room, clicking on a lamp so the room illuminates in a hazy yellow glow. You grip the trophy, base upwards with the points of it at your eye level, arm at the ready. You creep slowly through the kitchen, clicking on the light over the oven, peering into the living room again and over your shoulder. No one. Nothing. You walk forward into the dining room, turning on the light, peering out from the sliding doors to the back yard. Nothing. You take a final breath. It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s just a movie. 

Right?

CLANG!  

You jump, attention toward the door to the garage in the back of the dining room. You raise the trophy again, mustering up the courage to go to the door. Through the small crack in the bottom you see the lights are on, you swallow again. With a final breath through the nose you clutch the door handle, wrenching it open – ready to swing. 

“Woah there, champ,” Steve laughs, looking up from the side of his truck. He pulls off his over ear headphones and cocks his head, “Is that my swim trophy?” “Uh, yeah…” you respond sheepishly, lowering it down to your thigh. Your heart starts to steady, cheeks burning with embarrassed heat while he comes around from behind his truck. “Did I wake you up, honey? I’m sorry,” he says softly, wiping his hands off on a rag. He’s in his sleep shirt but back in his jeans, sneakers unlaced on his feet.

“No I –” you falter, feeling stupid and silly, “I had a bad dream and you weren’t there so like – I don’t know. Then the stereo turned on downstairs and I heard a bang so – why’re you in the garage?”  “I forgot about my break pads – they’re swamped at the shop so I told Ed not to worry and I’d just do it myself,” he shrugs with a laugh, “Little harder than it looks but – can’t put her back on the road until she’s all set. Woke up in a cold sweat about it.” 

“You um, didn’t hear me calling you?” you ask warily. “Had my headphones on, baby, my bad.” “And the stereo?” you urge, “It was like…really fucking loud.” “That was probably me by accident,” he assures, taking a tiny remote out of his back pocket, “I got the remote for the speakers in here too, so, must’ve sat on it. Did I scare you? I didn’t mean to.” “Just a lil’,” your shoulders droop, heat pricking your cheeks and chest. “Aw, I’m sorry,” he coos, coming toward you to put a sloppy kiss on your cheek, “I’m almost done, I’ll be back upstairs in a minute. Would you get me some water?” “Okay,” you chirp, taking a big breath before heading back into the house. You pad through the dining room and back into the kitchen, reaching over the sink to grab a glass from the cabinet. You let the cool water run over your fingers for a moment, chuckling at yourself for being so stupid while you place the trophy on the counter with a thud. 

You fill the glass for yourself first, letting the chill of the water bring you back to center. You take a few sips, leaning against the counter and looking through the archways to the other rooms – sleepy looking with their warm low lights on. You always forget how cozy Steve’s house looks, especially in the fall. You snort, hearing Steve’s soft ‘Shit! Come on!’ from the garage after something else clangs to the ground. You down the rest of the water and turn again to refill it for Steve, humming the song from the stereo. You shut off the water when you feel like someone is watching you, unease brewing in your chest again. You turn around quickly, but no one is there, just the sound of Steve working in the background. Back to the sink you finish filling up the glass, looking up at the window above the counter. Your reflection looks back. You drop the glass, hitting the stainless steel with a shattering fall. Behind you, in the dark of the dining room, is exactly what you’d feared you’d see. Standing there. Idle. Watching you. A man in a mask.  You freeze, sharp breaths puffing out of your nose, heart rattling in your chest. You shut your eyes tight and count to three, opening them again only to let out a blood curdling shriek at the reflection – he’s still there, just closer. You grab the trophy and turn around with abandon while Steve bursts in through the side door. “What’s happening, what’s going on?!” he asks, running in. “There’s – there’s there’s, there’s someone in the – in the house – in the house!” You gasp out in stuttering breaths, tears pouring down your face. “Who?! Whose in the house?!” he asks, brows raised, frazzled. “A man!” you screech, “The man! The man in the mask!” “Fuck, fuck,” Steve huffs, rifling into the drawer for a kitchen knife, “Stay here – stay right here and call the police.” You watch him walk toward the living room, “Steve don’t! Don’t! We have to g-get out!” “Baby – just call. The. Pol–” 

“My first lover, My first lover, He was always talking tryin to bring me down, But I was not waiting for a white wedding gown...”

The music blares again, so loud it’s disorienting. You scream, eyes blurry with tears while you walk backward to the corner of the kitchen by the fridge where a house phone sits on the wall. Shaking you reach for it, watching as it clatters clumsily to the floor. “Are you calling?!” Steve asks, fear lacing his own voice while he slams the stereo off, “What the fuck is happening?!” “I’m c-calling!” you yell back, seeing him come back into the kitchen with his chest heaving. You reach down for the phone only to realize, to your horror, that the cord is cut, “I – baby I…” “Shit,” Steve huffs, “M-my phone, where’s my cell?” “Upstairs I – oh my fucking god,” you freeze, eyes big and glassy when you see him, the man in the mask. “Wh-what?” Steve asks, slowly turning around, “Oh fuck, fuck. L-look man, hey – I – I don’t want any trouble.” The man stands there, masked head tilting when he takes a step forward. “D-do you want money? Something? My car? Anything man – I swear.” The slow step becomes a full steam ahead, another screech pouring out of you while you see his gloved hand reach for Steve. You cover your head in your hands, shaking, wondering how you can make it from here to the garage unscathed – you brace for Steve’s broken scream. 

But instead. A laugh. Two. Two laughs. Two very familiar laughs. “Why would I want your car when you can’t even fix the fuckin’ break pads?” Eddie’s muffled voice echos from behind the mask. He pulls it off, taking a breath, “Fuck, that things hot.” “I fixed them just fine,” Steve hisses in faux annoyance. “H-huh?” you look up with tear streaked cheeks, “Wh-what is this?” “Oh honey, we didn’t mean to scare you that bad,” Steve coos. “It’s just me, babydoll,” Eddie smiles, voice gentle, “It’s me.” “What the fuck?” you ask, still against the wall by the fridge with your heart hammering. “S’just a prank honey, we were just fucking with you,” Eddie says softly, taking a step toward you that makes you flinch, “Hey…you okay?” “No Ed, I’m not fucking okay,” you bark, “What is wrong with you? With both of you?” “We didn’t think you were gonna get so freaked out, angel,” Steve sighs, “I’m sorry. We’re sorry.” 

“Are you mad?” Eddie pouts, putting the mask on the counter. “Yeah,” you nod, standing up, “I’m fucking mad. And I’m sure the neighbors are gonna call the fucking cops from all the screaming and yelling.” “Babe, hey, c’mon it was a joke,” Steve’s shoulder slump when you brush past him, “Let’s just get cozy upstairs, okay? We can all go to bed.” “Fuck you,” you huff, stomping up the stairs, “Both of you.” 

They follow you like puppies up the stairs, closing in on you when you make it back into the bedroom. Soft apologies and kisses to your cheeks, surrounded by them – their hands, their hair, their scent. Slipping around you like snakes, but sweet – anything to hypnotize you out of how mad you are. “Don’t be so pouty,” Steve coos, peeling off his shirt, “You’re okay, we won’t do it again.” “We’ll never do it again, I promise,” Eddie mumbles into a kiss by your ear, already down to his boxers, “We’re awful, we’re so awful.” Your knitted brows and sour pout stick while they do their best to get you to break, but it’s not until Eddie’s lips catch on that spot just below the hinge of your jaw that you let out a soft gasp. “There she is,” Eddie smirks into the next flick of his tongue and graze of his teeth, teasing the spot until your face relaxes. “C’mon,” Steve whispers, tugging your t-shirt over your head, “Let us make it all better, hm?”

“Lay down, sweetheart,” Eddie encourages while you get to the edge of the mattress. The comforter was still in the mess you left it in when you woke up from your dream. Despite your anger you do as he asks, not protesting while he slips your shorts and panties off without a second of hesitation.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he smirks, “Just how you like it.”

Your thighs part for him on their own accord, barely waiting a second before his mouth makes contact with your already slick center. You whimper and Eddie smiles into your cunt, slurping around your clit to get you stimulated quickly. Can’t be mad if you can’t think straight.

“Mmm, Ed like that,” you whine out, hips rolling up against his mouth.

“Already so wet for us, sweet thing,” he brags in a low voice, “Maybe you like bein’ scared.”

“No I – uhn…mmm…” 

Eddie’s first two fingers slip in with little resistance, coaxing soft needy moans out of you with each pump, each soft tease of his tongue. He lets out a dreamy sigh while your legs pull up to your chest, revealing more of yourself to him. He busies his mouth while looking over the expanse of your body, watching Steve lean in to kiss you. Your hand entwines in Eddie’s hair, scratching at his scalp softly while he wraps his arms around your thighs. He could eat you all night. “I know you’re not kneeling closer to me so I’ll suck you off,” you stare up at Steve in disbelief. “I uh…well,” Steve bites his lip, redness building on his cheeks. He looks down at you, kneeling by your face on the mattress with his cock in his hand, stroking slowly. His chain glints in the low light from the sconces above the bed, catching in his chestnut hair – too handsome, it was unfair. “You want me to suck your dick after all that? You think you deserve it?” you ask, eyes rolling when Eddie’s fingers curl up against you – letting out a sinful moan.

“Well when your mouth hangs open like that,” Steve chuckles coolly. He leans down again to capture you in a kiss, stroking himself while he does. He nuzzles your nose when he breaks away, “You wanna sit on my face?”  Your breath catches, nodding eagerly. “M’kinda in the middle of something,” Eddie says from between your thighs. “Well you can be in the middle of somethin’ else, Munson,” Steve grins while you change positions to him lying on his back. Your legs straddle over him, ass in his face while you look down the rest of his body. Steve pulls you down firmly, tongue gliding between your folds in a slow back and forth at first, pushing his face in it. You yelp when he flicks his tongue over your swollen, sensitive clit; thighs twitching while he finds his rhythm.  “Hmm, you’re close, aren’t you?” Steve teases while pulling away for air.

“Y-yes sir,” you sigh back, hips bouncing gently against his mouth for more friction.

Eddie pulls his boxers off, tossing them on the floor and reaching for a forgotten scrunchy on Steve’s dresser to pull his hair back. He crawls back onto the bed, giving you a soft kiss, “You look so pretty right now.”

“Thank you,” you whisper against his full pink lips, kissing him back. You lean down with him, watching as he kisses Steve’s stomach, right by his happy trail, taking his cock in his ringed hand. A glob of spit falls from his mouth, working Steve’s shaft with a precision only another person with one could have. 

Steve groans into your pussy, louder when Eddie takes the tip in his mouth. Your mouth waters against your better judgment, body betraying you when you lean forward onto your hands to meet Eddie at Steve’s cock. You kiss again, both tongues flicking together over Steve’s swollen head making him whimper between your legs. You both let your lips graze his length, leaving wet kisses in their wake before Eddie takes over again. You gather his curls so you can watch him, the visual sending you right over the edge when he starts to touch himself in time.

“Good girl,” Steve coos softly, evidence of your orgasm on his chin while you shimmy off his face.

Eddie comes back up with a breathy smile, hazily letting them direct you while Steve pushes up to sit against the pillows propped up on the head board.

“Think you should get filled up, pretty girl,” Steve says softly, “You wanna?” 

You nod, straddling Steve, letting his hands skate over the tops of your thighs while you let yourself sink down onto him. His head thuds back against the headboard, eyes closing when your walls snuggly fit around him – warm and wet.

“Think you can do both?” he asks, pulling you in so you’re chest to chest. 

Your brow quirks, “We do that all the time.” “No, no, baby,” Eddie smirks, coming up behind you, “Both of us in the same place.” Your head turns around, looking down at Eddie’s length in his hand, thinking about how thick Steve is inside you already while he thrusts up lazily. “S’not gonna fit,” you hesitate. Eddie kisses your shoulder, “I think we can fit, just keep bouncin’ on Steve for me.” “You like to watch?” you wink while looking back at him, finding a cadence that makes the fat of your ass shake.

“You know I do,” he replies, voice low and gravely – it hits the pit of your stomach. Steve signals Eddie to come forward, crawling up over one of his thighs. “You can do it, babe,” Steve encourages, holding you in place, “You’re already soaked.” 

You feel him push in, one hand on your lower back while the other guides his length to aid in pressing over Steve. You let out a low groan, sweat beading at your hairline while your eyes nearly cross from the stretch. Your brows pinch together, mouth hanging open in that desperate way that makes Steve primal with need. “Ooh, does that feel good, baby? Does it feel good?” he asks, voices light and sing-songy. “Y-yeah, oh – oh fuck -” you huff when Eddie does a slow practice thrust, to see where you’re both at. Eddie moans once he finds the pace, unforgiving fingers clutching you for balance. Steve chuckles at your face, forefinger and thumb reaching under your chin to press into your cheeks. “F-fuck I’m so…I’m so, sssooo…” “Sssoooo full. That’s right, so full, aren’t you honey?” he grins, mocking you now with a little shake to your face, “Look at you. You like that? You like gettin’ filled up like this?”  “Yeah,” you whine while Eddie starts a steady pace, both men grunting at the pleasure of you tightening around them. The slide of themselves against each other makes Steve’s breath hitch when his hips cant upward in time. 

“Shit, Ed,” Steve grunts, fingertips sinking into your hips. He huffs a laugh, shaking his head while he presses a wet kiss to your neck, “Fuck.” “Yeah? S’my dick nice, pretty boy?” Ed winks down, hand entwining in your hair at the root while the other cruelly grips you at the waist. You’ll feel that grip tomorrow, both of them – party favors for the pleasure you’re feeling now. Steve nips at your neck, listening to your panting, your whines – at this rate you look like you don’t even know your own name. You start to falter, leaning down into him while your arms give out, face finding home in the crook of his neck and the dying scent of his cologne. “Hey, you still mad at me?” Eddie asks breathily. Your scalp screams in a delicious sting when he pulls you up by your hair, back arching deep to make you face him. You struggle against it at first, tilting your head down to look at Steve whose tongue has flicked out to tease one of your nipples. “Look at daddy, honey,” he chastises in a low heated tone, teeth grazing the hardened bud, “Look up at daddy.” Eddie’s laugh is low, bubbling from his tummy when you finally relent, leaning your neck back to look at him. Even upside down he’s pretty – hair falling mostly out of the scrunchy he stole, leaving messy curls wild around his face. “You still mad at me, babydoll?” he grunts out, “You still mad?” His free hand reaches around to cup your jaw, leaning in to give you a hungry kiss. He growls into it, pumping deeper in short thrusts. A choked moan pours out of you when they move in tandem, Steve sliding out while Eddie slides in. “Aw, you don’t look mad,” he taunts. Another kiss before his face hovers over yours, grinning, pleased with himself, “You look so gone, holy shit.”

“M’n-not m-mad anymore, daddy,” you nearly cry, voice tight, “Fuck – harder.” “Harder?” his brow quirks, “You hear that Steve? She wants it harder.” “Yeah, I heard her,” he grunts, “Give her back to me.” Eddie lets go of your hair without a thought, dropping you into Steve’s chest like a rag doll. He props you up above him, his big hand around your jaw this time while Eddie keeps both his tight on your waist for leverage. With as much strength as you can muster you hold yourself up on your forearms, limply bouncing forward with each thrust. “You want it harder, pretty girl?” Steve asks, looking up at you – his own eyes are blown, completely flushed from double the pleasure. “Pl-please,” you huff, “Please, sir.” “Hmm, you know I like when you say that,” he grins, “Ask again.” “Please fuck me harder, sir,” your eyes roll when you feel Eddie’s chest against your back, both of them closing in on you. “So good,” Steve breathes, “That’s a good girl.” You feel the tickle of Eddie’s curls on your shoulder while he leans over you to get to Steve, wrapping a hand in his auburn hair to pull him up for a deep kiss. You listen to them, watching while their eyes flutter closed, pace picking up inside you while their tongues fight each other for dominance – ending in heated smiles, always a draw. Nose to nose they watch each other, your face to the side on Steve’s chest. 

“Spread her open for me, Harrington,” Eddie mumbles against his lips, leaning in for another greedy kiss before making the move to push up off your back. Steve pulls him back down eagerly, bicep flexing while he holds Eddie by the back of the head for another searing kiss, “Spread her open, huh? Like you do for me?” “Shut up,” Ed flushes, biting his lower lip while he looks down at him before pressing his lips to your cheek and pushing up. He holds you in place with one hand on the dip between your neck and shoulder, the other grazing down to your upper back. Steve hands slide down to your ass, gripping hard to spread you open from the bottom. With a little more space, Eddie’s pace quickens, your breaths punching in scattered rhythm when Steve plants his feet on the mattress to fuck up into you. “Ohmygod, oh my god fuck,” you cry out, “I c-can’t I’m gonna…oh fuck, I’m so – I’m so close don’...don’stop please.” “That’s it angel,” Steve encourages, “You’re doin’ so good.” “So good, baby,” Eddie adds on gruffly, “Really t-takin’ it.” Steve let’s go of one ass cheek to cup your face, thumb tracing over the supple skin in welcome gentleness. You lean down in a tired slump, lips marrying his – the mint of his mouthwash still on his tongue when it slides into your mouth. He groans through it, hips stuttering – adding more rigid stimulation against his cock while they both thrust deep inside you. You nearly go dumb when they both hit the same spot, clamping down over both of them while you see white. Tears well in your eyes while they fuck you through it, babbling like you’re possessed when the pleasure teeters on becoming too much past your orgasm. “Sh-shit oh, angel that’s it – fuck that pussy’s so..mmm -fuck,” he grunts, pressing his hips up against you while you feel him spill inside. 

“Oh god,” Eddie whimpers out, the warmth from Steve’s release coating over his cock, making it slicker. Steve eases out, kissing you passionately while you suddenly feel empty without them both stretching you to the brim. “Get on your back for me, sweetheart,” Eddie instructs, soft and needy, “Wanna see you.” They gently get you on your back, back to soft kisses and touches like before. Eddie can tell you’re already two deep, not wanting to get you past the point of feeling good – and you’re close. “Can you take some more?” he asks, running his knuckles over your cheek, “It’s okay if you can’t.” “I can do it,” you rasp out, chuckling a little, “I’m very brave.” Eddie laughs, caging you in under him with Steve pressed to your side, “So brave, babydoll.” “I’ll go slow,” he nuzzles into your neck, bangs brushing against your ear, “M’still sorry.”

The three of you lay there under the sheets, collecting your breaths on the come down. Steve’s fingers are laced with yours while he lays on his stomach, Eddie’s hand rests on your waist while he lays on his side. “I have to pee,” you frown into the quiet. “Go pee,” Steve murmurs, half asleep into the pillow. “I can’t.” “Why?” Steve’s eyes open. “I’m too scared,” you whine, “I don’t wanna go by myself in the dark.” Steve lets out a famous Harrington sigh, “Do you need me to come with you?” “And do what? Yell at me to call the police if something bad happens?” Eddie giggles, stretching out on the bed, “She’s got a point Harrington.” “Eddie’s right, they’d outsmart you so fast,” you shrug, “Will you both come with me?” “Yeah,” they huff in unison, shuffling out of the covers and lazily finding their bottoms on the floor. They lead you down the hallway, feeling much better with both of them flanking your sides. And it helps of course, that they turned all the lights on. 

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

[ghostytoad]

🎃 ROTTMNT Halloween Headcanons 🎃

Horror Movies

Summary: The Hamato siblings & horror movies

Headcanons for: Raph, Donnie, Leo, Mikey, & April

Halloween Headcanons - Haunted House Edition

Halloween Headcanons - Haunted House (x Reader ver.)

i added a few horror movie references here and there (betcha can't name 'em all!)

Raph:

Favorite genre: Zombie horror

Least favorite genre: Gore/Torture

isn't too fond of horror movies; would rather watch action movies

he's convinced that 'based on a true story' movies are 100% real

easily jumpscared but tries to laugh it off every time

leo will tease him about his fear stink tho

believes twilight technically counts as horror

"it's a movie about vampires and high school! how'zat not scary?"

might watch horror movies alone if he's surrounded by plushies and his blanket

won't sleep all night tho

leaves the light on after a horror marathon "just in case"

Donnie:

Favorite genre: Psychological when done right; Time-loop horror

Least favorite genre: Found footage

isn't too bothered by horror movies

but plot holes will frustrate him to no end

and he WILL make his brothers listen to him rant about it afterwards

"SCOFF! he was OBVIOUSLY a ghost, literally no one else noticed him or talked to him!"

prefers j-horror (subbed even tho he understands japanese)

he doesn't have a favorite movie but he does like the japanese film 'horrors of malformed men' (江戸川乱歩全集恐怖奇形人間)

considers found footage horror movies inferior and 'lazy'

spends most of the movie criticizing the characters and making fun of the villain

was terrified of pennywise as a kid (dvd rental mix-up that went unnoticed by papa splinter)

for the longest time, he thought pennywise lived in their sewers

Leo:

Favorite genre: Slasher movies; Parody horror

Least favorite genre: Classic

he loves horror movies and binges them for halloween

joins in on donnie's commentary, which mildly annoys mikey and raph

most of leo's commentary is just making fun of his brothers

"oh hey, don bon! i had no idea you were on tv... congrats on the blob monster role~!"

finds silent horror movies to be incredibly booooring

enjoys campy 80s horror (evil dead 2, gremlins, creepshow, ect)

unironically considers killer klowns from outer space a masterpiece

is banned from picking movies bc of this

might get spooked from time to time

not that he'll admit it

nothing can shake this ninja warrior, nuh uh no way

Mikey:

Favorite genre: Paranormal/Ghost movies

Least favorite genre: Psychological

considers himself a "horror expert" and owns all the classics

likes to play "who would survive this plot" with his brothers during the movie

according to him, leo's usually the most likely to die first

has a plan for every possible zombie apocalypse scenario (that he totally didn't get from a bunch of zombie movies)

"i'm not saying that he *should*, but donnie could totally build a giant prison maze for ghosts. it'll be just like the movie!"

will occasionally watch scary movies alone in the dark

overestimates his fearlessness every time-

loves a good ghost movie but he's a bit of a scaredy cat

might need a few cutesy romance movies afterwards to feel better

April:

Favorite genre: Found footage

Least favorite genre: Slasher/Killer horror

loves a good horror movie binge and will jump on any chance to watch them with her brothers

always ready with halloween themed snacks and candies

is also a self-proclaimed "horror expert"

she knows a lot more than mikey tho

can tell you about the directors, the history of horror movies, and the stories the movies are based on with complete detail

"movie night at my place? i've got just the thing to scare y'all out of your shells~"

rec is probably one of her top 5 favorite movies

likes the idea of creating her own found footage horror movie

mikey, leo, and splinter are all on board to be in her movie

donnie and raph? not so much

[clumsiestgiantess]

Part two of Takeover Scenario Future! @goblinunderabridge, @entomolog-t, and everyone else who enjoyed part one, here it is!

(part one here)

Running to the bathroom door, I tried to turn the handle, but it was locked from the inside.  I could hear small pained groans coming from behind it.  “Julie!  What are you doing to him?!” I yelled from outside.  She didn’t answer me.  I waited a good half-hour sitting against the bathroom door.  They were talking to eachother in there — speaking in whatever strange language the survivors spoke.  Finally, the bathroom door opened.  I nearly fell backwards inside.  “Can you get off the floor, please?” she asked me, voice back to being mildly annoyed and normal.  “I need you to tell me what exactly you thought you were doing taking Mason for a joyride on your bike.”

I hadn’t really processed any of what she told me.  My mind was drawn to the survivor.  He sat on the side of the sink with bloody cotton balls surrounding him.  His pant leg had been cut off to make way for a bandage that covered his whole leg.  A broken rod of plastic was wrapped up in it, too — preventing it from bending.  Zoning back in, I recognized something about what my sister said.  “Wait.. Mason?  Who’s Mason?”  Julie exhaled tiredly, pressing a few fingers to her temples.  “Mason is your little friend here.  Well, technically his name is Nosam, but I think you’ll do better with the English version.”  At the sound of the strange name, Bandit — or not Bandit — looked up at us.

“Now please, what were you doing that made him jump out?  Was he trying to get away from you?”  Guiltily, I thought back to how he’d struggled against me when I placed him in the bike basket.  “Yeah, he tried.. before I got on the bike.. but he was just a bit scared!  Once I brought him back and showed him his new home, I thought he would stop!”  I stepped over to Mason, leaning down to look at his injury, but he scrambled away wide-eyed.  Disappointedly, I backed off.  “He’s.. still scared of me,” I realized.

“Well no shit he’s scared of you!” Julie suddenly spat, voice hostile again.  “He doesn’t understand what you’re saying, and you’re not trying to comfort him at all!”  “But shouldn’t he know I’m not going to hurt him?  I’m not a monster!” I countered.  “Well, to him, you are.  You’re more intelligent than anything else he has to be afraid of — capable of doing so much worse to him than an animal that just wants to eat him and be done with it.  Our kind trapped his kind here.  All survivors are either angry at us or scared of us at first because of that.  And I don’t blame them.”

The room was silent for a while as the thought sunk in.  “Sorry, Ritch, I didn’t mean to yell at you.  I mean, I did, just not that much.”  Julie glanced over at the survivor.  He quickly turned away like he hadn’t been watching.  “They’re not pets, Ritchie.  They’re people.  Just like us.  You can’t just carry one off and expect them to be calm about it.  That’s kidnapping.”  “But..” I stammered, “I just wanted to give him a home.”  A slight smile appeared on Julie’s face.  “I know.  But Mason didn’t, and you scared him enough to think that jumping off your bike to get away would be safer than whatever you had in store for him.”

I glanced guiltily at the guy sitting on our sink.  “Sorry.”  “Eh syas s’eh yrros,” she told the survivor, “Ym rehtorb tsuj detnaw ot evig uoy a ecalp ot yats.”  Mason looked up at her, then turned to me.  He didn’t seem as scared, just a bit wary.  “What’d you say?”  “I told him what you told me.  That you’re sorry and you were just trying to help.”  I nodded, then turned to her suddenly.  “Wait, Julie, how do you speak survivor?  How do you know all this stuff about them?”

“Oh!” she gasped, “That’s kind of a long story, actually.  Let’s head to my room.  We don’t want Mom finding them inside.”  I nodded, “Remember the one in the attic?”  “Mhm.  She tried to kill it.”  She had, but my sister had stopped her.

Julie gestured for Mason to settle between her hands so she could take him where he needed to go.  “Wait, can I carry him?” I asked her hesitantly.  “I promise I’ll be gentler.  I- I want him to know that I can be more careful.”  She spoke to Mason and turned to me.  “It’s his decision, not mine.”

The survivor looked at me intently — thinking hard.  He said something decisively and Julie nodded.  Then, he pointed to me.  “Well, he chose you,” she told me with a nudge, “Better make up for that first impression.”  With that, she slid out of the bathroom and waited by the doorway to the next room over.  Gently, I held out my hands for Mason like I saw my sister do.  He tenderly got up, avoiding his injured leg as best as he could.  

The feeling was even stranger than picking him up in my fist.  His weight caused my hands to dip lower as he sat down in them, glancing up at me with a pensive expression.  I lifted him, and his grip tightened on my thumbs, which were almost like armrests to him.  “Sorry for scaring you earlier,” I told him remorsefully, “I won’t do any of that again; I promise.”  Mason gave me a small reassuring smile, squeezing the pad of my thumb just a bit tighter.

When I made it to the doorway, Julie nodded and told me the coast was clear.  I followed her upstairs to our room — taking the long way around the house to avoid getting caught by our mother.  Mason gawked at the surrounding rooms and furniture.  Briefly, I wondered why.  His world apparently had the same types of things that this one did.  However, they weren’t nearly as gigantic.

Once we were safe in Julie’s room behind a locked door, she told me I could put Mason down gently on her dresser, which had been cleaned off since she’d returned from college for the summer.  The little survivor eased off of me; I helped him get his balance before fully releasing him.  He was still slightly wary of me, though.  I’d kept my hands close around him so he couldn’t fall over, and he flinched so badly at the sight that he nearly did fall.  I swear I’m not grabbing you, man, I thought remorsefully.  I’m really sorry I did.

I turned to Julie to ask what to do next, but she’d ducked down beside her bed.  “Ellie!  You can come out now; it’s safe!  There’s.. a few people I’d actually like you to meet.”  My mouth dropped open as a survivor slid out from beneath her bed.  She froze when she saw me, stepping slowly backwards without taking her eyes off mine.  “Ronele, this is-”  “Your brother.  I know.  What is he doing here?”  

Holy…  That survivor just spoke.  In my language.  I gawked, stepping forward slightly, “Y- You speak English?”  “She does,” Julie replied, “I taught her, just like she taught me her language.”  “How?”  She shrugged, “How do you learn any other language?  Practice and trial-and-error mostly.  A lot of gestures, too.”  I shook my head.  “No, I mean, how did you like.. befriend a survivor?”

Before she could answer, the survivor tapped her leg, backing up until she was safely against it.  “Jul, seriously, why is he here?”  The new survivor’s voice held a rather strange accent, but even with it I could still hear the hard fear in her voice.  Why did my presence suddenly put everyone on edge?  I had never hurt one of their kind — never trapped one or locked one in a cage like I’d seen others do.  Then again.. it’s kind of what Julie had told me.  I was still perfectly capable of doing all of that.  And even if I don’t do those kinds of awful things, there are enough people in the world who do for them to be wary of me regardless.  Suddenly, my earlier interactions with Mason made a lot more sense.

At the survivor’s fearful question, my sister nodded to the desk where Mason stood.  He looked possibly even more shocked than I had.  “He finally took someone home.”  The survivor crossed her arms, “I told you he would.”  Julie sighed, “He did it to help him, though.  Isn’t that right?”  She gave me a pointed look and I nodded vigorously.  With one gesture, the survivor, Ellie or.. whatever name my sister called her earlier, called down a pair of cupped hands and slid into them easily.  It was mesmerizing.  The little being did it so effortlessly, as if she stepped into people’s hands all the time.  Actually, she probably did.

Julie lifted the survivor to wherever she pointed, and let her off on the desk beside Mason.  It was then that I realized one of her legs was plastic.  Her right leg from just above the kneecap down was missing, and had been replaced with a modified doll’s leg that was similar in color to her skin.  The survivor gave me a strong sideways glance — probably because I was unknowingly staring at her — then began to speak with the other survivor in their own language.

“So,” I said uncertainly after a moment, turning to Julie.  “How do you two know eachother?”  “That’s the long story,” she said, sitting on the side of her bed and patting the other side of it.  I sat where she wanted me, and she began.

“It was actually the year before I moved out.  I was on a jog when I found Ronele.  Well, in English it’s technically Elenor, but I usually use the other one or..  Nevermind.  Just call her Elenor.  That’ll be easiest for you.”  She sighed, “Where was I?  Right.  When I found her, she was lying on the side of the road.  A car had hit her a little while before I arrived, and I thought she’d died.”

The conversation between the survivors abruptly stopped.  Elenor turned to us with a pensive expression.  “Did you want to tell it?” Julie asked her.  She shook her head, but made the same gesture as before.  My sister got up and scooped her up kinda like I’d picked up Mason at the park, only gentler — more practiced.  When she returned to her bed, Elenor settled in on her lap, making it look like the most comfortable seat in the room.  I glanced back at Mason, still on the table.  “Do you want to come over, too?”  Julie translated for him, and he nodded slightly.

In the same way I brought him upstairs, I brought Mason to the bed — in two carefully-cupped hands.  I tried placing him in front of me, but he slid away and sat in his own spot between me and Julie.  I was slightly disappointed, but I understood why.  Once everyone was settled, the story began again.  “Well, obviously Elenor was in really bad shape when I first found her.  Thankfully only her leg had been run over, but it was still awful.  You know how I worked as an intern at the vet clinic in town?” I nodded.  “The practice came in handy.  That day I had to-”  She paused and glanced down at the little being in her lap, gripping one of my sister’s hands tightly to herself.  “Let’s just say.. it wasn’t pretty.  Elenor was furious with me for a long time afterward.”

“For saving her life?” I asked, stunned.  “Yes,” the survivor quipped, “When you have to be in almost perfect physical form just to survive, losing a limb is a death sentence.  I was angry with her because I knew whenever she put me back I was just going to get picked off by something.  I would’ve rather got the dying part over with rather than dragging it out.”  “But then I got you this,” Julie added, gently tapping her plastic leg.  The survivor calmed and nodded.  “While she healed, Elenor learned a bit of English to communicate with me.  And then while she went through physical therapy of sorts with her new leg, she began teaching me Hsilgne.  Her language.”

“And I was right there,” I glanced at the door, “on the other side of the hall.  I never knew.”  “We didn’t want you to,” Elenor told me curtly.  “We didn’t want anyone to find out,” Julie amended.  “By the time Elenor had a working leg, we’d become such close friends that we knew she wasn’t leaving.  She’s stayed with me since.  She came with me to college, and lives with me in my apartment.  I’ve been helping survivors ever since the year I met her, though.  They’ve started coming to me on their own now that I have my own place.”

My sister is a doctor for survivors.  How do I not know this?!  “Can you show me how to keep one?” I asked her, “If you’ve been doing it for years, you can help me start collecting them, too!”  Elenor said something angry-sounding in her language and Julie cringed.  “I.. don’t think that’s a good idea.  I told you, they’re not pets, you don’t keep one.  You offer to let them live with you, like a roommate, and if they say yes, then you can start thinking about helping them.

“And that’s a big if!” Elenor chimed in, “Most of my kind — if they had any sense whatsoever — would say ‘no’ in a heartbeat.”  I glanced at Mason.  Before I could say anything, Elenor asked him something harshly.  He looked confused — almost scared — of being confronted so suddenly.  His gaze flickered around between all of us, then landed intently on me; I tried to look as harmless as I could.  Finally, he spoke.  Elenor looked a bit miffed at his reply, and my sister nodded.  “He says that if you were able to understand him, and you two could talk to eachother like me and Elenor do, he actually wouldn’t mind staying here.”

Mason spoke a bit more, “I yllaer t’nod kniht ruoy rehtorb si a dab tnaig.  Eh- Eh did pleh em elpitlum semit dna I sseug eh dah doog snoitnetni neve nehw eh debbarg em.  Fi eh dluoc tsuj.. dnatsrednu, d’I eb yppah ot evil ereh.  Ohw t’ndluow?  S’ti a citnagig efas ecalp taht sah yllacisab detimilnu doof, dna si deretlehs morf eht rehtaew, htiw a etammoor ohw nac teg uoy tuo fo yna elbuort uoy thgim teg otni.  D’I ekil ot yats fi m’I emoclew, tub fi uoy dluoc tsuj hcaet mih hguone rof mih ot dnatsrednu, I nac hcaet mih eht tser.”

My sister nodded, “I nac hcaet mih.  Fi uoy yllaer tnaw ot yats, tsuj wonk uoy dluohs diova ruo rehtom.  Fi uoy thguoht s’Ritchie gniwonknu edutitta sdrawot uoy saw dab, neht uoy od ton tnaw ym rehtom gnidnif uoy.  Ehs si ekil emos fo eht lufwa sromur.”  Mason nodded dutifully.  I suddenly felt so out-of place.  Everyone in the room could understand this new language — knew what the conversation was about — even if Elenor didn’t seem to approve of it.  Only I had no clue what was being said.  Out of everything, I vaguely recognized my name, but that was all.

“Wait, Mason, you want to stay with me?” I asked surprisedly, a smile growing on my face.  He nodded, trying to stand back up, but between the uneven surface of the bed and his injured leg, he only got halfway before whispering something that sounded like a curse under his breath and sat back down.  “If you’re up for learning a new language over the summer, I’m sure you two will get along surprisingly well,” my sister said, “He thinks a lot like you.”  She gestured to Mason.  “Really?” I asked, looking down at him.  The survivor tilted his head to look up at me slightly.

“But just remember,” my sister told me, “They are not pets.  They’re people.  You treat that kid nicely, or so help me I will take him far away from you, understand?”  I nodded fervently, “Yeah!  I understand!”  Julie looked me over skeptically and Elenor asked: “Do you?”  

I turned to look down at the survivor I’d found earlier.  Originally, I didn’t understand.  I’d looked at him and saw a little mimic creature from another world — an oddity that only looked like a person, but wasn’t actually anything like one.  I mean, they’re barely a foot long, they scavenge around like little animals, and they live in colonies out in the woods.  It seemed obvious they weren’t people.  That was until I was reminded why they had to scavenge whatever we left behind, and hide away in places where humans weren’t around.  They are people — small people who couldn’t fight us for a place to live and had to go into hiding after losing the quick war we waged against them.

“I understand,” I said more firmly, reaching slowly for Mason.  He tensed, but held still as I lifted him up.  Keeping pressure off his leg, I helped him stand and walk across the sheets until he was beside me, leaning on my crossed legs to keep himself upright.  He looked up at me not only with a smile, but with a genuine understanding expression.  It was the first time he’d looked at me that way — with trust.  That look right there solidified it; there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that they’re people.  And I was going to make sure this one actually lived up to the name ‘survivor’.

Second part done!  Do y’all want part three to be a continuation, or a prequel?  (Either a continuation of Ritchie and Mason, or a backstory of Julie and Elenor’s first meeting)

[cutthroatcarnival]

All art/panels belong to @/linkeduniverse!

NEW UPDATE!! NEW UPDATE!! You know what this means? ANALYSIS TIME!

THE REACTIONS. Hyrule looks severely annoyed, Time and Wind look angry, and Twilight and Wild look borderline horrified (understandably so). AND WILD BLAMING HIMSELF. HE LOOKS SO UPSET WITH HIMSELF. AND TWILIGHT BASICALLY TELLING HIM “DON’T BLAME YOURSELF”. Plus Four’s reaction to Wild blaming himself; he looks both confused and concerned (conferned?).

Also, I love how they all arch their eyebrows at Time taking the blame, I just think it’s neat that they ALL do it.

And Warriors is right- helping Twilight WAS the upmost priority at that moment. And with how the mechanics of Warriors’ game goes, he clearly knows that this is fact, and the wounded coming first is not up for debate.

I’m guessing that split-second decision Time made had to be steeped in some sort of trust and confidence in the others, but Twilight- his descendant- being injured was ultimately the deciding factor.

That look on Time’s face looks (ha) like one of pure terror, in all honesty.

Obviously they were all shaken and scared to see Twilight go down, but the fact that it was an unspoken change to the goal and everyone followed it? They would rather retreat than lose Twilight (who, by the way, looks ADORABLE in that window panel- his FACE!!)

DO I SMELL TEAM BUILDING EXERCISES?? I THINK I DO!! Four and Warriors (and probably Legend) would be the best ones to explain teamwork, as their games (or one game, in Legend’s case) surround and are based on teamwork. “We’ve done well avoiding friendly fire”, what a nice way to lighten the mood (the reactions to it are kind of funny- Legend looks unimpressed, Wind looks mildly concerned, and Sky’s in full agreement)!

Do Time’s words of “true arsenal” mean we’re going to see more than their bows and swords? That would be INCREDIBLE to see, and it would definitely mean the teamwork would need to be ratcheted up. As a bonus, we get a cool showing of almost all of the swords, shields, and quivers. I enjoy the fact that all of the quivers are different too!

That is a direct (?) look at the Master Sword, and an angry one at that. We all know Time has beef with her… but what if push comes to shove and he HAS to take her up once again? Even after he swore to never pick up the blade again? This can’t just be for show- it feels like a foreboding sense of foreshadowing.

(Maybe we’ll see the dowsing ability be used?)

First off, that lighting looks AMAZING.

Secondly- the mail!!! It’s back!! It’s also a nice little break from the heavy conversation. Plus Sky’s little smile as he holds up the mail is so cute! I wonder what those letters say…

[arl3kinka]

PARADISE; a headcanon (more like rambling)

the other day I was thinking and I don't know if somebody else has mentioned this before, which would be pretty normal considering the game came out like 11 YEARS AGO or so.

but still, I wanna ramble a bit.

✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪

Let's suppose every dude is the same dude, let's suppose. Well actually this is not that necessary for this, but it's something I'll save for later.

In the first "Postal" game in the diary he complains about how he hears gunshots, screams and in general everybody is crazy in Paradise. And if you play pacifist during "Postal 2" everybody's nuts except you, apparently? like they're not scared to pull a gun against each other for a simple misunderstanding, the police doesn't do shit and doesn't cares enough (look just like irl haha), everybody seems to be okay with the fact that there is terrorist group that one day assaulted the church and the next day everyone goes there like nothing happened, etc.

During "Postal 2" he's pretty casual about it, just mildly annoyed if it gets in his way, as if he's just desensitized from all that madness. Or he's just as deranged as everyone else, which is pretty logic too. Maybe both.

I think it also depends a bit if they're all the same guy or if every postal dude is a different character too; in case they're different people P2 (and P3 in "Paradise Lost") is just as nuts as everyone else, maybe not THAT much, but still cuckoo. But in case they're all the same guy he's just tired of everyone's bullshit and definitely desensitized because, let's suppose the asylum he got locked it at the end of the first game it's the paradise one, the one we can visit in "Postal 2"; the workers are as mad as the patients, he must have seen a lot of stuff, even more fucked up things that casual townies could and would do (and let's not start with his hallucinations).

[ for me I like the second one, I find more appealing the idea that he's just a normal (mentally ill) guy who's been pushed to his limits haha ]

Not trying to defend dude by any means, what he has done in 1997 is horrible (although if it's the same place we see in the second game it would just be another casual day in paradise).

Maybe P1 was right with all that sickness thing, or maybe that's what his mind came to with as a way to try justifying why paradise is like that.

✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪

I dunno, running with scissors leaving the postal dude as a blank canvas which everyone can have different interpretations, is both a blessing and a curse if you like to pick every piece of media surrounding postal and trying to make some logical headcanons according to the character(s) and/or lore UGH.

ngl it's also my fault for trying to find the coherence in a game like postal lol

[radiologica]

X-7 DRACO…

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That's the planet I'm being shipped to..

Why, why why why why…

They just… took us.

Crammed us in these damned ships…

Never told us where we were going.

That ticking is quite irritating…

Warp speed is sickening…

Nobody ever mentioned that in school.

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After what seemed like centuries, I feel the jolt of the craft decelerating. I hear the startled noises of my fellow passengers as the engine's wail. Nobody dares speak as we feel the struts make landfall upon the foreign soil, telling us that we've arrived.

"Alright, get movin'," a soldier ordered over the loudspeaker, ushering out what must've been a hundred people. No, it was more than that. I look around, seeing the flock of ships blotting out the horizon. Like machines we make our way from the steel jaws of our transport ship, walking onto the strange new land. It all looks so familiar, yet different. So many colors… there's no color on Earth anymore… at least, not like this. This is beautiful. I've never seen this many trees. I've only ever seen pictures in the old history books and drawings in the old textbooks and art museums…

"Your only task is to not die." The same soldier called from the doorway as it closed. His face was almost mocking. I feel an unfamiliar anger boil in my stomach. Why were we put here and not them? Just what gives them the right, the audacity to sit beside the higher-ups on their shiny marble pedestals and look down on us? They refuse to see that we are no different, that we're all human… My fists clench as I bite back all my anger. The only thing anger will get us now is an early grave. Don't be rash. Don't do something stupid. Not now.

"What now?" Asked a lady to my left. I turn to see all that surrounds me. So many people… thousands upon thousands. How will we make it? My anger quickly shifts to a familiar shade of confusion. What now?

"Don't die, I guess." Mocked another woman. I look all around once again. Don't die. Psh, like that will be easy with so, so many… all confused… all scared… I feel the sudden need to get away, as if staying in one spot would be the death of me. I come back to my senses when I feel a rough hand on my shoulder.

"Are you alright, son?" An older man questioned. My body froze, what do I say? 'No sir I'm going insane, how are you on this horrific day?' My brain mocks, but to no avail.

"Y-yes, I suppose…" I finally responded. Turing to look him in the eye, I see a kind, weathered face looking back at me. He seems so calm.. how is he doing that?

"You're making that odd face again, what's on your mind." He said this with such a level voice that I almost had to take a step back.

"How are you doing that?" I ask, mentally slapping myself for not thinking before such a blunt question. "How are you so calm," I continue, "We just got dropped like trash, on a planet we know nothing about." I look at the man expectantly.

"Such a negative outlook you youth have…" He responded. "We get to live in nature again, something so far gone on Earth. This is an honor, son." He gently smiled and patted my shoulder. I turn away, once again getting the urge to escape from the crowd. The cloud of confusion that was now our lives. How.. how… how will we make it…

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WEEK TWO ON X7-DRACO

FOREST VILLAGE

POPULATION - 103

STATUS - FOOD SOURCE FOUND. WATER SOURCE FOUND. 2 LOST TO NATURAL CAUSES.

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"Seth, hey, world to Seth."

I close my eyes, exhaling as I calm my mind. I finally turn toward the person calling me, unsurprised to see an old man.

"Yes, Russell?" I answer, mildly annoyed.

"Has she come around yet?"

"No.."

"You've been out here for four hours Seth, it's time to come back home."

I look back into the maze of trees, hoping Russell would take the hint and leave. My hope's are fulfilled as I hear the older man sigh and the crunch of leaves as he left me to my wait.

Nearly an hour later, I hear the familiar thunder I had been waiting so long for. I grin and hop off the log, looking in the direction of the sound. My eyes fall on a familiar creature, a large drake-like animal with reddish brown scales, interrupted with a pattern similar to that of a ball python. She came to a halt about five feet from me. I walk toward her and hold out my hand, letting her sniff me. She hesitates, something she's never done.

"Is something wrong?" I ask as if she could respond. To my surprise however, she almost did. She tilted her head, evidence that she was thinking. "Ace?" I try with her name, seeing if that would get more of a response. Before I could move, the drake grabbed me, holding me by the collar of my jacket. The sudden action made me nauseous. My head spins as Ace runs through the labyrinth of trees, skillfully weaving through their branches.

Within a few minutes, Ace comes to a sudden stop. She gently bows to put me down on the ground. My upright posture doesn't last as quickly plop down, holding my head. As my dizziness clears, I look around. A… cave? My head slowly turns as my eyes roam over the large room. The walls have so much vegetation… Even a cave, a place that's supposed to be dark and empty, has so much life. My mind begins to spin once again. Suddenly, I hear Ace make a splash deeper in the cavern. Somehow, I find my way to my feet, starting down what seemed to be a natural staircase. As I round the corner, my breath leaves me.

In the center of the cavern room was a beautiful pool. Its light was unlike anything I've ever seen… The water was a brilliant teal, almost blinding. The water cast light throughout the cave, illuminating Ace. She ran out of the water, galloping towards me. She stopped, looking at me expectantly. I follow her toward the pool. It's so bright, but now, there's something else. Something seems to pull me towards the water. Ace suddenly shoved me into the water, then jumped in herself.

The pain was so sudden I opened my mouth to scream, water taking its chance to rush into my lungs. My body goes numb as fear rushes me.

'This is how I die this is how I die this is how I die this is how I die this is how-' My panicked thoughts are interrupted as a large paw wraps around my torso. Hacking coughs rack my body as Ace brings me to the shore. When I finally calm down from my fit, something feels off. I feel like someone else is in my head somehow. I feel like my soul has somehow been altered, like it was connected to something. I look over to Ace, seeing her tail wagging. Suddenly, I feel a pang of happiness.

"Wha- what did you do to me?" I desperately try to get up. I start feeling another wave… worry. 'What's going on.' Ace ran toward me, the worry got stronger, almost sickening. 'Wha- no. No, that's illogical.' I silence my thoughts. Ace relaxes and walks off, taking that sickening worry with her.

"No way. Nuh uh. Not possible." As I say that, also as if it was rehearsed, Ace turned around. She, once again, grabbed the back of my coat. However, this time she put me down on her back. I bring my hands to my chest, really not wanting to anger the animal that's the size of a box truck. As if she could hear me, Ace suddenly shook. With a yelp I grab onto the leaf-like membrane. I feel a pang of what I assume to be amusement.

"You think that's funny, really?" I frown. She looks back at me, securing her position as an absolute ass by proceeding to sprint full speed out of the cavern.

A few minutes later, we arrived back at where I was waiting all those hours ago. I say goodbye to Ace, watching as she weaves back through the trees. The feeling of happiness fades but never fully leaves. I can't help but believe the impossible…

what if?

[luventi]

HEADCANONS FOR BOYFRIEND!DRUIG

cw. druig x gn eternal!reader, au where everyone is alive and happy and together, there will be dashes of suggestive content admits all the fluff so be warned!

druig loves you oh so very much, like the boy is so madly obsessed with you, and he truly doesn’t care if you or anyone else teases him for it

in the beginning of your relationship you assumed he wasn’t into pda but you soon realize instead of kissing or touching in public druig adores calling you sweet pet names in front of the others that makes you hold back a smile and gently shove him away from you

“darling hold still let me get that for you” or “lovely how is it you look extra beautiful today?”

he has a sliver tongue and by god does he know how to use it to make you feel giddy and loved

kingo and phastos would tease and poke fun at how the mighty druig sounds like a school boy whenever he’s around you but he doesn’t even pay them any attention, too busy staring at you from across the room. and when you meet his eyes he’ll wink and mouth “staring my love?”

during the winter he fakes asleep in the morning so you’ll be the first to rise awake and prepare breakfast for the both of you, you of course know what he’s doing but he’ll always deny deny deny

he’s not a fan of the cold, much preferring warmer climates and seasons. so when the colder months roll around he’s confined to the safety of your bed with you warming his lap and planting kisses all over his flushed face

whenever the rest of the eternals gather for human holidays it’s always hosted at yours and druig’s place, reason being he hates traveling (but you’re like 80% sure he’s scared of planes)

he mimics your mannerisms a lot and you start to pronounce words the way he does with his accent. sersi thinks it’s a beautiful testament to the love you both share

as lovely as druig is, he’s annoying :| it pains me to say this but there are times when his sarcasm and witty jokes are enough to make you go crazy, so you have to shut him up with a kiss! after you pull away he apologizes and leans in for another

speaking of kisses druig adores them! they’re always so full of passion and love, the way he explores your mouth with his tongue and your fingers tugging on his hair—it’s so easy for you both to get carried away and end up late for family dinners and other important events

physical affection and touch is very important to him, it helps him feel grounded and relieves the anxiety that threatens his sanity at times. his favorite place to be is in between your thighs, your presence surrounding him when he needs it the most but for the most part he just loves the skin to skin contact

druig is not used to domestic life, it’s just not him! but he won’t deny the love that fills his beating heart whenever he wakes up to your soft body next to his in the morning. his eyes will gaze over the various marks on your skin and the whisps of your eyelashes before kissing your forehead and bringing you even closer to him

i wouldn’t say he’s a very big movie buff but the rare times you do get him to sit down and watch a film with you is very nice. he’ll cover you in blankets and settle you on his lap for the entirety of the movie, unless you two end up under the covers giggling and cover each other in kisses

whenever you’re mildly upset with him he always brings up that time he took you to visit the amazon with him and you two cleaned off at a waterfall, the memory of that day is so hot and steamy you can’t help but crack a smile and give in to his flirting and pleads for forgiveness

during nights you both can’t seem to sleep you’ll lay in the grass outside and stare at the stars, trading stories about your travels and your findings all those years you two were apart. it’s in those moments when druig is truly grateful for all he was given in this life, his existence has true purpose because of you

more to come! hope you enjoyed <3

[scaryscarecrows]

Go Wash That Blood Off Your Hands

AN: McDonald’s timeline. Jason is a theater kid surrounded by enablers. Nobody has the brain cell right now, but this is still a better way to deal with trauma than ‘invading a city’, so does it really matter?

Title from Clint Lowery’s ‘God Bless the Renegades’.

* * *

It starts, as most strange things do, in a New Jersey Waffle House.

So as it turns out, Waffle House or not, civvie clothes or not, people are going to notice seven muscular dudes who appear to have been fighting with something. And honestly, that’s not getting into Trent’s…er…Trent-ness.

It could be worse. The nature of the Waffle House is that nobody will straight-up ask, which is probably for the best. That doesn’t mean that much, though, not in the long run; a group of (probable) college kids are giggling in the corner.

They think Mark’s a cutie, Riley explains in between bites of scrambled eggs. But I think they’re too chicken to come over here and say so.

“God, I hope so.” Mark shudders. “Why me. Why not him?” He gestures at Jason, who huffs. “He’s their age.”

Maybe they want a sugar daddy.

“Take me back to Gotham.”

Riley laughs. Antoine takes a sip of his coffee and glares at it like it’s personally murdered his entire family.

“What the fuck is this.”

“American swill,” Trent says sagely. “Maybe cigarette ashes would fix it.”

Antoine looks like he’s considering it, but is distracted from doing so by Jimmy’s going, “So, boss…”

“What.”

“You have a Wikipedia article that’s made, like, five Buzzfeed ‘creepiest Wiki rabbit holes’ lists.”

Jason, who’s in the middle of drowning his pancakes in strawberry syrup, looks up and deadpans, “What.”

“Uh-huh.” Jimmy stabs a piece of sausage and dunks it in the cup of fake maple. “See? ‘The Disappearance of Jason Todd’, right here, black-and-white, featured literally every time there’s a listicle about creepy shit.”

“What’re the theories? Anybody get lucky and get it right?”

“Ah…no. But apparently ‘kidnapped by the Jersey Devil’ was a thing.” Jimmy blanches, freckles managing to go starker. “Shit, the Jersey Devil’s not a thing, is it?”

For a hopeful second, it looks like the answer will be ‘of course not’. But then Jason just shuts his mouth and shrugs, looking very much like he’d rather have not been asked.

“I don’t actually know,” he admits. “I don’t think so, but…”

“Chriiiiiiiist,” Antoine groans. “No. There is no Jersey Devil. I refuse to believe there is one.”

Frank shakes his head.

“It’s probably fucking Batman–don’t look now, Mark, someone might have just got up the guts.”

* * *

That could have been the end of it. Would have been, even, if it weren’t for a roadside costume shop that’s probably a money laundering place, really, because who buys costumes in the middle of fucking nowhere?

But it’s daytime, AC/DC is blaring on the radio, and they have access to Bruce Wayne’s credit card because, in Jason’s words, “He owes me back allowance, trauma tax, and honestly, I didn’t rat him out to Joker so he really should have been paying me for the Robin gig.”

So they pull in.

It’s a dark, dingy place with roach motels in the corners and outfits that look (and smell) like they’ve been here for decades. There’s a great selection of masks, though, which means Jimmy can put on a decaying zombie head and go, “Hey, Trent, I’m your mom.”

“Shut up, punk.”

“Language!”

“Hey, hey, check it out.” Frank puts on what claims to be a ‘were-Bat’ mask. “I’m Batman.”

“You laugh, but you didn’t see,” Antoine grumbles. “That thing scared the shit outta me.”

“Can I help you boys find anything?” the clerk-an old man who probably has a shotgun under the counter-calls. He sounds mildly annoyed. They should probably buy something before they leave.

“We’re good.”

If it weren’t for Riley, they probably would have settled for buying, like, gum. Or maybe a pentagram necklace, to ward off Batman or something. But Riley dives into a rack of…furry bodysuits, basically, and comes up with a black one that, against all odds, looks like it’ll fit Trent.

Things snowball from there.

Among the impressive masks is what appears to be a possessed goat; white eyes, fangs, a lolling tongue, and more fur around the neck. The horns are stained red, and mucus is caked around the nose. Wings turn up, too, big, leathery ones, and a bottle of fake blood. This is bad enough, but then Jason fishes a handful of very realistic intestines out of a bin. They’ve got a strap on them-likely designed to be part of a zombie costume or something-but in the dark, especially…

“This is probably one of the tackiest things we’ve ever done,” Mark says. Riley shrugs and throws a devil tail on the pile.

“It’s not like he’s actually dead,” Frank points out. “People do worse, anyway.”

“True.”

“‘Sides,” Jason says, grins with far too many teeth. “This could have been avoided with a little detective work.”

“That’s right,” Jimmy says. “Here, get another bottle of blood; we gotta get some on the suit, too.”

* * *

They waffle about whether to do a photo or a video. Riley finally convinces them to do a video, Blair Witch-style, so of course they trek into the woods.

For a furry bodysuit and extras, Trent is. Mm. Well, realistically, Trent is pretty frightening all by himself, but the costume is a new level of horror. It doesn’t help that the sun is low in the sky, and it’s starting to drizzle. Jason’s no better; with the intestines strapped on and blood splashed on pretty much all of him, he…doesn’t look too good.

“Okay,” Jimmy says, fiddling with his phone, “I’ll film, because I’ve got the best phone. Frank, you narrate; you’ve got a good narrator voice. Riley, you do…you know that noise, that you made last Halloween that sent three people running for cover?” Riley gives him a thumbs up. “That. Do that. Antoine, you and I are just gonna chit-chat. Keep it casual. Mark, you’re our skeptic. Trent, I want a couple of glimpses of you, but, like, over there. You know, did that just happen?”

“You want me to be Bigfoot, basically.” Trent’s voice is muffled in the goat mask. “Sure.”

“Yep. Just once or twice, as we walk. Maybe pace us so I can just pop the camera over. Boss, you’re just gonna lay on the ground. Maybe, uh, scream a bit before we get to you, and then…I don’t know, I don’t know…Riley, should he be dead or no?”

Nah, Riley says. We can keep it going if he’s not.

“That’s true. Okay, don’t be dead, but let’s face it, you’re gonna be on your way, your fucking guts are hanging out.”

“We’re horrible people,” Antoine finally says. “You have to admit, this is terrible.”

“Cheaper than therapy,” Jason points out. “And probably safer; at least three Gotham villains used to be mental health workers.”

“That’s true.”

“Okay, okay…here. Here’s a good spot. Get comfy and try to look like you just got attacked.”

* * *

Two days later, a video goes viral. It’s crappy and shaky, taken on a cell phone. The internet is divided on whether it’s staged or not, but it’s creepy regardless.

The video takes place in the woods. The narrator claims they’re out looking for the Jersey Devil. This isn’t the weird part; the weird part is when something shrieks and the camera swings over just in time to catch something big and black and furry walking deeper into the woods.*

“Damn,” the narrator breathes, and then someone else pipes up with a short, “It’s a bear, you know it’s a bear–”

“It had wings, man!”

“No, it didn’t, don’t be–”

“No-no–stay back, get away from me!”

Silence, then the camera gets jerky, like the holder’s running. There’s a bloodcurdling scream followed by a snarl, a thud, and then…munching noises.

And then the camera catches it; something big and black and furry, crouched over a twitching body on the ground. Intestines are spilling out and coming up into a goat’s mouth (but that’s no goat, goats don’t look like that they don’t look like that–) and as the camera freezes in obvious horror, the man raises his arms to try and shove the thing away.

“God–” He’s not successful. “Stop–”

The video cuts here. It doesn’t take very long for somebody to point out that the man looks an awful lot like Bruce Wayne’s missing kid, and hey, wasn’t he supposed to be kidnapped by the Jersey Devil, that was a theory, right?

Dick thinks the video is, in his words, ‘very Jason’. Barbara has a chuckle, so does Alfred. Tim weakly points out that at least Jason’s not trying to murder anybody. Bruce, however, now understands the random charge on a card he’d, honestly, forgotten about.

He could have done without, he thinks, Jason’s far-too-convincing screams, or the image of him covered in (fake, he knows it’s fake, but still) blood as something eats him alive. But Dick’s right, it is very him. Bruce still remembers him stubbing his toe and collapsing to the ground, writhing in agony and intoning, “I’m dying, Bruce, lay two tokens on my eyes for the ferryman…tell…tell Dick I stole his Fruit Roll-Ups…”

At least he’s safe. Seemingly happy, for the moment. Not causing trouble, not really. Bruce will take that, for now.

THE END

*One of the creepiest gaming moments I’ve EVER experienced is your first glimpse of Jack Baker in RE7. He doesn’t hurt you. He just walks on by, but he comes out of nowhere and I very much wanted to bail back to my car.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

tuxedo, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of previous jungkook x reader

summary: Your cat turns into a man. No, not, your cat was always a man and turned back into a man. Your actual cat turns into an actual man and neither you or your cat (man? cat-man?) have any idea why he's human now. Also, he's naked, so that’s a problem. Also, he’s kind of attractive. Yikes.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of the coronavirus pandemic; possibly full-on crack; Yoongi still thinks he’s a cat; mentions of smut (fem reader, m-receiving oral (choking on a dick, but not in a sexy way), doggy, spanking, wall-fucking, unintentional??? voyeurism); non-idol!AU - cat!Yoongi x human!reader; ft slightly cocky Jeon Jungkook and you being mad horny for him, what’s new; breaking of the fourth wall; are YOU a furry? you decide

an anon asked for cat hybrid Yoongi, although instead this is some voodoo witch doctor shit, whoops yes, I do reference BT21, Bob Ross, the lady-pointing-to-the-cat-accusingly meme, list goes on... and there is a cameo of 2021 Seasons Greetings Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin XD

--

Your lungs were being crushed.

You were bundled in your duvet, wrapped like a mint-colored burrito, on your back, head nestled comfortably in your memory foam pillow. Warm, cozy, snuggly. All things considered, a comfortable position. So comfortable that you were blessedly asleep for many hours until your lungs started getting crushed.

You cracked one eye open.

A giant tuxedo fluffball was causing this slow and painful death.

“Get off.”

You glared with slitted eyes, voice cracking from sleep. The fluffball did not move. Velvety, pointed black ears flicked back and forth. The little pink nostrils flared a bit, breathing evenly and contentedly. At least one of you was. You grunted in irritation. The minty-green eyes opened, black slits for pupils.

“I’m going to die.”

Your cat meowed in your face.

“Shut the fuck up. Get off.”

He yawned.

You narrowed your eyes and lips into lines. Stared at your insufferable, not-so-subtle tuxedo cat that was killing his owner. How long had he and his seven-kilogram ass been sitting on your tits? Too long because your sternum was already aching. You rolled over and he gave you a disgruntled meow as he tumbled off. You pulled your arms out and gave him a soft scratch behind his ears before reaching around to his white belly and patting his chest. He started purring, rolling to his side, white sock-like paws sticking up.

“Ugh, my chest hurts, Shooks. You’re a dick.”

Your cat gave zero fucks.

You were still petting him. Sigh.

“I’m getting up,” you announced to no one except your cat.

You tugged yourself out of your comfy, mint-colored duvet and winced, rubbing your breastbone. Did you buy this bedding set because it reminded you of your cat’s eye color? Yes. Were you a crazy cat lady? Maybe. In your defense, you hadn’t meant to become a crazy cat lady. You were innocently walking on the street when the tuxedo-patterned cat started following you. A large cat with big minty eyes surrounded by black fur like black bangs. White snout and jaw, pink nose, and a raspy meow. The tuxedo pattern was pretty similar to an actual suit, with a white chest and black fur over its back and limbs. White, sock-like paws, on the bigger side. Cute pink toe beans too. At the time, he was skinny and dirty, no collar around his neck, but you could tell he was long-limbed. He had a cut on his right eye, caked with blood.

“You alright, little guy?”

The cat seemed to scoff at you disapprovingly, as if to say, do I seem like a little guy to you?

“I guess you’re not a little guy. You have an owner?”

The cat’s response was headbutting your calf.

You took him back to your apartment and then it was doomed.

Why was his name Shooks? Well, actually, your cat’s name was Shooky, and it was because you tried many names to get him to respond to you – including, but not limited to, “you little shit” – and he responded to none of them except Shooky. For some reason, Shooky made him turn his black-and-white face around and look at you.

Shooky it was.

The first encounter was cute, but after you had fed him and given him a few pats, you gave him a good, hard taste of reality. Shooky was very upset about getting a bath for the first time. There had been a lot of angry meowing, although thankfully he hadn’t swiped at you very much. As soon as you got mostly undressed and sat in the bath with him, he seemed to relent. Maybe it was because you closed the glass door and he couldn’t leave.

“Do you see how dirty you are? You need a bath.”

He gave you a disapproving meow.

“Look, I even bought pet shampoo and you’ll get treats after. Come on, you.”

He was very displeased.

In any case, Shooky was now your primary companion, a large, long-limbed, fluffy tuxedo cat, following you around as you brushed your teeth and made breakfast, his new black collar jingling with a tiny silver bell. Every morning, you handed him his dry food first – he chomped down immediately – and made yourself some breakfast as he ate. Somehow your life now revolved around him, spending time looking up the best cat food (without paying an arm and a leg, you weren’t a sugar momma), making sure he was brushed (his hair got everywhere), telling everyone you needed to get home because you couldn’t miss his dinnertime (if you were a second late opening the door, Shooky would start meowing very exaggeratedly, like he was dying, what a drama queen). Was he annoying? Yes. Was he the best cuddle buddy? Also, yes. Kind of like a boyfriend, but better, because Shooky didn’t talk back.

You arranged your small dishes on the table. Tofu. Eggs. Pickled squash. Just enough for one. You sat down, holding your bowl of steamed rice.

A tuxedo furball jumped onto the table, licking his chops.

“Look here, this isn’t for you. Shoo.”

He settled onto the tabletop and stared at you as you ate.

Sigh.

-

Live with a cat was pretty similar to life without one.

Except for that weird habit Shooky had of sitting on your bathroom rug when you got out of the shower, scaring the shit out of you the first time. You lived alone, so you didn’t really bother closing doors, but you considered changing that. But it was just a cat. Also, he walked in here of his own volition. Not your fault if his eyes were scarred.

Shooky was a normal cat, but also a weird cat.

He slept a lot. Normal. He bit his paws sometimes. Weird. You figured maybe it was his nails, so you learned to trim them and he seemed better about it, but sometimes when he was stressed, you would notice fur missing from his little white socks. A lot of things could stress a cat. The internet taught you that. You brought him toys and played with him, but mostly he seemed to want you to sit down so he could plant himself in your lap. This make life rather difficult, so you decided it was time to invest in Netflix so you could at least use your time wisely.

This was for your cat, remember.

Yes, binging shows on Netflix was for your cat.

The weirdest thing was…

Shooky was always stressed when you invited a man into your home.

Maybe he didn’t like men. Something in his past, maybe? Could be. Come to think of it, did you even like men? That was a question for another day, but in any case, your cat always gave you this accusing stare when you brought a guy over, no matter how nice the guy was, even if the guy petted him very gently. Shooky never attacked them. He just glared at you like you had betrayed him somehow. How could that be?

What a needy drama queen.

You figured, eh, it didn’t really matter. He wasn’t trying to sabotage your chances of finding true love and all that stuff. 

Who are we kidding?

You’d settle for a simple good dicking.

Well, there was that one time.

That time you were in the middle of giving a guy a blowjob. It was going great. You were naked, he was naked, he had a tattooed arm – hot as fuck – and he was very vocally enjoying your tongue technology. Hey, you didn’t have many talents, but you had that going for you. Even if a guy was mildly apprehensive about banging you, once you got your mouth on his dick, it was game over. You mentally patted yourself on the back for doing such a good job.

Positive reinforcement, right?

Annnnnnnd then…

Your cat jumped onto your back and made you choke on his dick.

“Urk!”

“Oh, fu–”

All seven kilos right between your shoulder blades. Oof.

“Are you okay?” He was half-worried, half-laughing, and Shooky was climbing up your back, pressing onto your neck, one paw on the nape, trying to murder you by dick suffocation. It took both of you to lift you off the dick – sad – and Shooky left a few scratches on your neck, as if to communicate his distaste of your infidelity. The guy was really nice about it. Actually, he found it hilarious. You scowled at Shooky and he gave you that deadpan stare that all cats seemed to have. The rest of the night was hot and heavy like you wanted and you even eventually got to complete said blowjob, which brightened your spirits.

It was a little disorienting that your cat was watching you from his cat tree the entire time.

Creep.

Honestly, you would have kept dating that guy if he didn’t move to a different city. Sigh.

Eventually, you stopped bringing men over.

One, because Shooky. Two, because worldwide pandemic.

Sigh.

-

The night that changed everything was ordinary.

Too ordinary.

You were passed out on the couch, halfway into season six of American Horror Story, somewhat peeved because you wanted to watch the other seasons, but geez, season five had such a poor story and hard focus on gore that it slightly turned you off. That it was a lot, even for you. Season six was better, but slow. The first four seasons had really hooked you and the idea of them all being connected? Nutty. You wanted to watch all of it.

Idea of season five? Awesome.

Lady Gaga? Yeah, why not, you’d be seduced.

Execution? Eh… could be better.

Shooky hadn’t watched any of it. He just slept in your lap.

Subtitles really helped you out here. You didn’t understand how the English-speaking audience could hear the whispering parts, but maybe that was because your English was garbage. You could read better than listen.

At the moment, you weren’t reading shit.

You were half-tucked in a fuzzy black blanket with a tuxedo cat pattern. Did you see the tuxedo cat pattern and buy it immediately? Yes. Were you a crazy cat lady? Maybe. In any case, your head was cocked at an awkward angle on the couch cushion and your mouth was open, snoring away. Attractive. You were wearing mint-colored, striped pajamas, one arm hanging off the couch and the other on Shooky’s furry butt, because you had been petting him.

Netflix was doing that annoying thing where it was asking you if you were still watching or not.

You couldn’t respond.

Shooky was awake.

Your cat was staring at your laptop on your coffee table. It was open. An HDMI cable connected it to your television. Not a clean setup, but an effective one. Again, you lived alone. Who was going to judge you? Your tuxedo cat?

Pfft.

Your cat was awake.

He got off your lap and hopped to the coffee table, peering at your laptop. Then he did what any sensible cat would do.

He walked all over your keyboard.

Circling around and around, smashing all the buttons with his cute pink toe beans, looking for a comfortable spot before settling down and planting his fluffy body on top of it. Windows closed, tabs appeared, the volume got muted, your display settings got fucked, the usual.

The unusual part was that your cat was looking at the screen.

Your internet browser was open.

A video was playing on a mysterious website.

A handsome young man with a boxy smile was wearing a sienna floral dress shirt and sunglasses, oddly paired with flared violet pants. He was standing next to another young man with an angelic face who, for some reason, was wearing a pastel floral handkerchief around on his head and a white-and-navy tracksuit with black, red, and green stripes. They were standing in some weird set with a black tablecloth covered round table and a lavender crystal ball, crystal-like beaded curtains glinting in strangely colorful lighting.

There was no volume.

Your cat tilted his head at the screen, curious.

The man with the boxy smile was speaking excitedly, gesturing to the angelic-looking man who seemed to be in awe. A retro, old school graphic popped up, flowers surrounding a blocky orange and green serif font, mildly tacky but somehow endearing in its own way.

COULD WISHES REALLY BE GRANTED?

Your cat tilted his head the other way.

Your cat didn’t know Korean.

… Right?

Well, you did mostly speak to him in Korean. Maybe he was secretly fluent. He definitely knew, don’t fucking do that, because you would witness him doing the very thing you told him not to do right after you said it. Bastard. But you couldn’t bear witness to this now. You were knocked out on the couch.

Zzz.

Boxy-smile guy placed his fingers elegantly on his forehead, mock dismay on his features, acting as if he couldn’t believe the viewer’s skepticism. Angel-looking guy placed his hands in prayer position, the text now reading, I won’t believe you unless you prove it! Boxy-smile guy flourished to the camera, showing off his brilliant pearly-white smile, mouthing words unheard. Text appeared once more.

Make a wish, any wish!

Your cat closed his eyes and appeared to be asleep.

The video turned black and disappeared into purple sparkles.

Your internet browser unexpectedly closed.

-

You woke up with a painful stitch in your neck and Shooky nowhere to be found.

“Fuck…”

You tried to get up, but underestimated the cramp in your back and fell onto the hardwood floor.

“Fuck!”

You blamed the pandemic for fucking up your sleep schedule. Also, getting old. Fuck getting old and being an adult. Time didn’t stop just because you didn’t go to work. Well, not true. You did go to work; your work was just different now. You were YouTube video editor, which meant you were mostly edited video game montages now instead of travel vlogs. The work was slower now. People were getting discouraged, taking breaks, because, you know.

Pandemic.

Sigh.

Anyway, not the point. You were grateful that your work was mostly internet and computer-based. Not everyone was so lucky. You were also grateful that you didn’t work in an industry that was too negatively affected by the pandemic. It had started off as a hobby, but then the creators you were helping unexpectedly blew up, needing your help more and more. You fell into it by accident, but that’s how life was. Happy little accidents. You couldn’t complain. As long as you had some income to feed your cat and you, that was enough.

Speaking of cat.

“Shooky?”

No meow.

Huh.

He normally would meow or trot over to you when called. He was weirdly affectionate like that.

You were still on the floor, on hands and knees, crick in your neck and back aching. Ah yes, age was just a number until your back pain flared up due to repeated nights of unintentionally falling asleep on the couch. Lovely. You stretched out your back with a groan and yawned, cracking your neck.

“FUCK!”

That hurt. Ugh, you really needed to stop sleeping on the sofa. You untangled yourself from your blanket and headed to the bathroom, rubbing your neck. You still didn’t see your fluffy, seven-kilogram, kind-of-an-ass tuxedo cat, but whatever. He had to be in the apartment. He couldn’t exactly leave. He was a cat. What was he going to do, grow legs and opposable thumbs?

Pfft.

You shoved your toothpaste-covered toothbrush in your mouth and began brushing your teeth. You hummed, trying to remember if you had any deadlines. Eh, they were on your Google calendar. You would check it after washing up. You spat and brushed for a few more minutes, thinking about nothing. This was nice. Sometimes it was nice to think about nothing. No major problems to address, simply a chill and routine morning.

Seemed sufficient.

You reached over to the spit cup and put some lukewarm water in it before taking your toothbrush out and sipping some water to gargle the minty suds out.

You heard a deep, raspy voice call your name.

“Hmm?”

You looked in the mirror.

Wait.

Wait.

Wait.

Your mouth was full of dirty toothpaste water, cheeks puffed out.

The voice called your name again, quietly.

Nervously.

Your eyes widened, staring into the mirror in shock.

A pale man was standing behind you, wearing your mint-colored duvet over his shoulders. Messy black hair to his rounded cheeks, dark brown cat-like eyes, small pink pout. His nose was a little red, as if he was cold. There was a black choker on his neck, with a silver bell. He was taller than you, and he looked very confused.

Also.

Pointed, velvety black ears on top of his head, white tufts of fur sticking out, flicking back and forth.

You spat all over your mirror in shock.

“Urk–!”

The man jerked back as you threw your head into the sink, hastily taking another cupful of water to rinse out your mouth because, WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING ON? Why was there a man in your apartment? With fucking cat ears? That moved? What kind of kinky shit was that? Were you dreaming? What the fuck?! You grabbed the hand towel from its hook and furiously wiped the dirty water off your mirror, completely convinced you were having sensory and auditory hallucinations. Did you drink last night? Accidentally buy groceries laced with LSD? Snorted three kilos of cocaine off a hooker? Who the fuck knows, but there was no fucking way that you let some fucking man in your home, because, one, pandemic and, two, Shooky–

You froze.

The pale man with black hair was still there, standing in the doorway of your bathroom, looking slightly disgusted, but also scared.

He said your name again. A question, almost like a raspy meow.

It was…

Familiar?

You violently wiped your bathroom mirror some more, nearly cracking the glass.

The man was still there, wearing your mint-colored duvet.

Slowly, slowly, you turned around to face this man, your neck cracking loudly, sending searing pain up the back of your head and reminding you that, nope, this is not a dream, and if it was, it was a very shitty dream because at least in a dream you shouldn’t actually feel pain. You looked up at this man, at his fluffy black bangs shading his dark attentive eyes and pale face, chewing on his lip, clutching your duvet around his body like a giant mint cloak.

The cat ears on his head twitched.

“Uh…”

You blinked at him, watching the ears.

“Do… I know you?”

He gave you an eerily recognizable deadpan stare. “I think you do.”

No way.

What?

No.

This wasn’t possible.

You’re drunk, high, or in purgatory.

(You did have sex before marriage.)

“S… Shooky?” you croaked.

The man took a deep breath and shook his head.

“Actually, my name is Min Yoongi.”

You blinked at him. “What? You have a name?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

Relief washed over you. “What do you mean, you guess? That means you’re a human being! With a birth certificate! Thank God, I thought you were my fucking cat for some reason, haha, that’s so fucking ridiculous–!” For some reason, the idea of a random stranger being in your home was much more comfortable to you than you damn cat becoming a human being, because for a hot second, you thought… but no, no, that’s stupid. “Speaking of ridiculous, these ears are crazy dude, they look almost real–”

You reached up and yanked on one of the velvety ears.

“Ow, what the fuck!”

Oh.

Oh my God.

OhmyfuckingGodthey’reattachedtohishead.

“What the FUCK?” you bellowed and a large pale hand shot out of the duvet to clamp one of his cat ears down, shrinking away from you.

“Stop yelling, please, I have sensitive hearing,” Yoongi winced, ticking his head, as if he was trying to flatten the other ear too, but couldn’t. His other hand was holding tightly to the mint duvet.

You saw a glimpse of a pale chest.

Your eyes widened into the size of saucepans.

His hand darted back into the duvet and clamped it shut from your bulging eyes, frowning. He quickly bundled himself up and straightened, thinning his mouth into a line. A few seconds passed. You gawked at him, jaw slack. The pale man sighed heavily.

“My name is Min Yoongi. My parents gave me that name. I don’t think I have a human birth certificate because I’m not a human. I am a cat. You used to call me Shooky, but Min Yoongi is my name, so I would appreciate it if you called me by my given name.”

Your jaw went even more slack.

“Cats… have names?” you squeaked.

Yoongi made a face at you. “Of course, we do. We are not savages.”

“B… But…” You frowned, shoulders falling. “You seemed to like the name Shooky…”

Yoongi shrugged his duvet-covered shoulders. “It sounded better than all the other names you suggested.”

You puffed your cheeks, placing your hands on your hips. “What was wrong with Tata? Or Chimmy? Or Cooky?”

Yoongi gave you a disapproving glare. “Well, perhaps in a parallel universe the name Shooky is somehow important to me. In any case, it was the best suggestion.”

You narrowed your eyes, frowning. “You little shit.”

“I especially disliked that one. Seemed a bit discriminating to our size difference…” He paused, looking down at you. “At the time anyway.”

Your hands fell, looking up at your cat. Er. Min Yoongi. “So, uh… Yoongi…?”

He tilted his head, peering curiously at you under his black bangs. “Hm?”

You pointed at him, gesturing up and down. “Why are you, uh… a man?”

He looked down at the duvet covering his body. You stared at your bedding wrapped around him. Why was he wearing it anyway? In fact, all you could see was a black choker with a silver bell. The mental lightning bolt suddenly hit you. Oh. Your neck began to heat. Your ears began to heat. Your whole face began to heat. Oh. Oh? Oh! Shooky – er, Yoongi? – whatever, your cat didn’t wear clothes. He only wore a collar… which meant…

It felt like your whole body was on fire with abrupt realization.

Yoongi looked up at your mint-pajama-wrapped, now tomato self still pointing at him.

“I don’t know why I’m a man.”

One of his eyebrows raised. Then Yoongi smirked.

An open-mouthed, amused smirk.

“And yes, I’m naked. Your clothes don’t fit me. I tried.”

-

Your cat, er, man? Cat-man? What even... never mind, Min Yoongi was sitting on your bed, still wrapped in your mint duvet like a key lime cake roll, waiting as you rummaged around in your dresser, searching for literally any piece of clothing that might possibly fit him. The problem was, you worked from home, so you didn't exactly own a plethora of different clothing options. Your daily wardrobe consisted of slinky black leggings...

"They're stretchy?" you suggested timidly. 

Yoongi had blinked at you. "I don't think so."

"It could work?"

He pursed his lips together. "I think you're forgetting something."

You gave him a blank look. "Huh?"

Yoongi gave you his deadpan stare. "I believe you are well acquainted with human male genitalia."

Oh.

Right. 

He had a dick.

You turned red and robotically shoved your leggings back into their place. A sudden thought flitted across your brain and you spun back to face him, blurting it out before filtering yourself. 

"Hahaha, good thing I never got you fixed, eh?"

Yoongi blinked very, very slowly. It was hard to tell if he was annoyed, amused, or wanted to murder you. In conclusion, typical cat behavior. 

"I'm not fond of the idea of castration, so I suppose so."

Awkward.

Your vet had suggested it, but since he had been an indoor cat and you weren't intending on getting another, you figured you wouldn't put him under the unnecessary surgery and it would help you avoid the cost. A little irresponsible? Maybe. But you were very careful not to leave the front door open and, so far, he hasn't had the chance to get some poor lady cat knocked up.

Unfortunately…

He knew you considered permanently removing his nuts. Yikes.

Sorry, Shooks. Er, Yoongi. 

In any case!

The other half of your daily wardrobe was sweatshirts, but Yoongi's shoulders were too broad for them and he was too tall. Why was he so big anyway? Well, he wasn’t exactly big, just long-limbed. You guessed he was actually on the leaner side, judging from the way the duvet wrapped around him and the brief flash of long fingers, slim forearm, and toned chest. He had been a larger cat.

Seven kilos turned into... him?

You suddenly started and yanked open your underwear drawer, shuffling through it to get to the back and pull out a neatly folded dark gray blob.

"I have this–"

"No."

The response was so forceful and dismissive that you froze, the dark gray fabric unfurling in your loose grip. It was a large men's sweatshirt, soft, charcoal, slightly acid-wash, covered with white paint stains. Eggshell white, to be exact. The exact paint color of this very bedroom, because you had worn it to repaint over that original disgusting beige color.

"Why not?" you inquired, holding it up by the shoulders. "It'll fit you, for sure. It used to be..."

Yoongi kept his completely neutral expression trained on you as you reached your revelation, his dark eyes observing every detail of your body's reaction to the memory. Your grip on the sweatshirt tightened. You felt your cheeks and ears heat, pulse roaring in your ears.

Oh.

Er, right, so…

That one time that Shooky – no, Yoongi? – jumped on your back and made you choke on a dick? Yeah, that guy. Tattoo guy. Yeah, well, before that incident, tattoo guy was the friend of a friend who offered to help you paint your apartment because he had experience working construction – “helped my dad fix-up a house to resell for a couple months,” he had said with his disgustingly cute, cheeky grin, making you nod like an idiot and your pussy throb with his endearing adorableness – and you had moved all the furniture out so you two could get it done quickly.

You had to put your cat in the bathroom.

You didn’t want him to breathe in the fumes or get paint on his luscious fur. It was for his own good.

Tattoo guy had appeared in said charcoal sweatshirt, black ripped jeans, and the most attractive thighs in the whole damn universe, just out and about, giant holes exposing tan skin and taut muscle. Your eyes widened, frozen at your front door.

Oh yeah, he had paint rollers too. You hadn’t given a shit about those in that moment.

He had noticed you staring and laughed sheepishly. “Sorry, I just wore the ugliest pants I own. It might get messy, you know?”

No, tattoo guy. No one thought your pants were ugly.

You sure as hell didn’t.

“Oh, yeah, that’s why I wore this gross t-shirt,” you said absentmindedly, referring to your four-sizes-too-large, free t-shirt that had been chucked at your head while walking past your university common area. It was a hideous chanteuse with magenta writing, a color combination that absolutely deserved to go to hell, and could not even be saved by the quirky, stylish, thrift-savvy TIkTokers of today. It was the ugliest thing you owned, so you wore it to repaint your bedroom.

Now you regretted it.

Tattoo guy looked you up and down. He smirked under his long black hair.

“Your body still looks great though.”

“… Urk?”

Didn’t really matter that you couldn’t conjure a sexy response, because, clearly, tattoo guy had made his decision leagues before arriving here. Painting a bedroom? Oh, yeah, you did that, and with way too much sexual tension. A man should not be that flirty while holding two paint rollers and speed painting your walls. What were you supposed to do? You barely knew the guy. All you managed to do was make awkward small talk to get to know him better. Then he took off his sweatshirt.

“Wait, that’s illegal.”

He had smirked at you, spinning the paint roller in his hand, white t-shirt molded to his body. “Hm?”

You were being mildly disrespected, but also you were gawking at his tattooed right arm and his blindingly beautiful forearms. Cough, no. You didn’t have a thing for attractive forearms. Wasn’t like staring at this muscular pair was making you weak at the knees or anything. Okay, maybe. But you weren’t going to say it out loud. Tattoo guy ticked his chin below you, to the floor. Your job was to paint the little nooks at the corners, ceiling, and baseboards. You spent a whole lot of your job sneaking glances at him and getting caught.

Shit.

“You missed a spot.”

You whipped your head to the floor, craning your head to look for it. A paint roller appeared beside you, pointing to a small sliver for nasty beige. He had a clear, silvery voice.

“Right here.”

You frowned at it and raised your paintbrush in warning to the offensive beige, ready to strike.

“… Noona.”

You started and fell over.

You sputtered, legs tangled, oversized shirt flipping up, trying not to drop the paintbrush and drawing a fat streak across the unpainted wall. You shook your head roughly, clutching the handle of the brush, cool draft floating up your shirt.

Tattoo guy appeared above you, grinning, his front teeth slightly too large and giving him the appearance of a rambunctious bunny.

“You alright?”

You felt your neck and ears heat. No, you were not alright. Yes, you were older, but that didn’t… that wasn’t the time… You didn’t expect it, that’s all. You tried very hard not to look at his thighs. Or his face. Or his chest. Just didn’t look at him. Also, you were pretty sure you were flashing him and pretty fucking sure you didn’t give a shit.

You coughed awkwardly. “Yup, I’m good.”

Back to copious sexual tension complemented by paint fumes.

Once the first coat was down, you two stood in the center of the room, surrounded by the plastic drop cloth, him banishing a paint roller and you a paintbrush. Challenge complete and it didn’t take you very long. Nice.

“We have to let it dry and then we can paint another coat,” he was explaining.

“It looks fine like this.”

Tattoo guy clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Once it dries, it will look uneven. Trust me.”

You frowned. “Okay. How long should we wait?”

“Couple hours, at least.”

A couple hours? You frowned more. “What are we supposed to do until then?”

He didn’t reply. You turned your head to face him and tattoo guy was staring at you with a smile.

Uh oh.

He was spinning the paint roller with one hand. You felt your ears and neck heat. He switched from his left hand to his right, seamlessly. Incredibly sexy. Were the paint fumes getting to you? You gulped, awkwardly gesturing to the paintbrush.

“Let me just… put this down…”

You turned around and balanced your paintbrush in the paint tray, only to gasp as your felt something foamy roll down your back, covering you with the strong stench of paint. It stopped above the curve of your ass, unable to roll smoothly any longer.

“Hmm, can’t get past your juicy ass, noona,” he teased.

You spun around, cheeks flushed, sputtering.

No, no. You didn’t forget tattoo guy’s name. You remembered it, even now. Remembered saying it in multiple different ways, even.

“Jeon J-Jungkook!”

In surprise, streaks of paint in your hair, him smirking, dropping the paint roller on the other plastic tray and somehow not tipping it over, thank goodness, him walking up to you, taking the bottom of your paint-covered chanteuse university t-shirt, leaning down to whisper hotly against your lips.

“Ah, sorry, it seemed like you didn’t like that shirt very much,” he breathed, sending your brain into overdrive with the heat against your skin, his knuckles brushing your thighs. “You can wear my sweatshirt instead, if you like.”

Your eyes widened, staring at him in shock.

“J… Jungkook…”

In breathlessness, heart pounding in your chest, gaze locked with mischievous dark chocolate orbs, his teeth catching his lower lip, tiny mole underneath revealed.

“Yeah?”

Why was his voice so deep? The tiny tip of his pink tongue darted out, licking his lips enticingly.

“… Noona?”

This man was illegal.

Your hands darted down and gripped his, catching your lower lip in your teeth as well, matching his lip bite, seeing the eagerness growing in his eyes.

Someone should call the police. Or an ambulance.

You grinned, cocking an eyebrow. “I don’t want to wear anything around you.”

But not for you.

There was a very loud meow from your bathroom, but before Jungkook could ask, you yanked your shirt up and over your head. He gasped and instantly it was lips on lips, messy kisses and stumbling to the living room were your bed, dresser, nightstands, bookcase, knickknacks, everything scattered everywhere, but Jungkook and you were too busy yanking off clothes and getting frisky to give a shit.

Yikes.

You stared at Yoongi now, red from head to toe, clutching the dark gray sweatshirt. He rolled his eyes and looked away from you.

“I… washed it?” you offered weakly.

Yoongi’s dark brows raised from under his black bangs. “Mmm, you forget that I have quite keen hearing. I’m not deaf like you, human.”

The color drained from your face.

Well.

Maybe, just maybe, Jungkook got you to wear his dark gray sweatshirt, forcing you – respectfully, he called you noona, after all – to get on your hands and knees for him, then make you wait in said embarrassing position with his sweatshirt bunched around your neck – because, er, gravity – while he casually made you watch him roll the condom on, highly amused by your impatient glare, only to move away and slowly shove his dick inside your soaking wet pussy and spank your ass until you backed up into him enough times to make yourself cum on his stiff length without him moving his hips.

Respectfully, of course.

“Fuck, noona, that was so fucking hot…”

“Jungkook,” you gasped breathlessly, ass stinging in glorious pain. “F-Fuck me, please.”

He made you scream.

He fucked your hard, making the bed creak, pounding you so roughly into the mattress that your fingers curled into the mint sheets, and when you gasped that you were close, he fucking stopped, the damn sadist, causing you to slam your fists into the bed and buck back into his crotch, Jungkook chuckling at your desperation. In your haze of begging for Jungkook’s cock, you heard a judgmental meow from your bathroom, but before you could address it, Jungkook seemed to have accepted your pleading and began to thrust into you once more, making you lose your train of thought and all thoughts in general, except your dire need to orgasm.

Jungkook had made you moan for hours.

Right now, however, Yoongi’s sharp look was making you mute. You were so mortified that you swore your soul stood up and walked out of your body, too ashamed to be in Yoongi’s presence any longer.

“Mmm,” the dark-haired man mused absentmindedly, pointed ears flicking.

From spitting onto the mirror to mentioning his possible castration to remembering that you had locked Yoongi in the bathroom for hours to have mind-blowing sex with Jeon Jungkook under the guise of repainting your bedroom walls…

Too bad life doesn’t have an undo button.

You suddenly remembered Jungkook pushing you up against the bathroom door, your leg hooked around his waist, his cock plunging in and out of you, lips on your neck, and your wrists pinned to the door, rattling it as he fucked you, whispering against your skin.

“You sound so fucking sexy, make more sounds for me, I’ll fuck you as much as you want, fuck you until you can’t think, can’t move, just to hear you say my name over and over…”

“Jungkook… f-fuck, you f-feel so fucking good, o-oh, Jungkook…!”

He pulled his lips away from your neck and smirked in your face.

“Yeah… noona?”

Respectfully.

“Fuck!”

Your back arced against the bathroom door as you came, pussy throbbing and spasming, the top of your head touching the wood, gasping Jungkook’s name in ecstasy, slamming your wrists against the door, Jungkook moaning as he came inside you, cock jerking inside the condom and swelling it with his orgasm, lips crashing down on yours and you whining pathetically into his mouth as he sucked on your tongue roughly.

A quiet, disapproving meow below you.

A master yikes.

You deliberately shoved the dark gray blob back into your underwear drawer.

Yoongi pursed his lips.

“Why is it in your underwear drawer, anyway?”

You slowly closed it, the wood snapping as the drawer touched the dresser.

Silence.

A crow cawed in the distance.

“You know what, let me make a trip to the convenience store…” was your hollow reply as you mechanically walked out of your bedroom, followed by a mint duvet.

“Do you know what size I would be?” came the husky, amused chuckle behind you as you pawed around your apartment for your wallet, two masks, hand sanitizer.

“I’ll just… buy a variety…”

“Or you could measure.”

You heard a rustle and you whipped your head around, only to see Yoongi’s cocked eyebrow and a slight bit of his exposed shoulders, collarbones on display, silver bell jingling. He yanked it back up, frowning at you.

“Are you a pervert?”

“N… no!”

You jerked away and hastily hooked the masks on your ears, fumbling with your sneakers before declaring, “I will be right back!” And then you threw yourself out the door.

Yoongi sighed, finally releasing his hold on the duvet.

“Ugh, so stuffy…”

His long black tail whipped about.

The door suddenly jerked back open and you plucked your keys from the side dish.

Only to see Yoongi fully naked, sleek black tail whisking around, blinking at you.

He was naked.

Really naked.

Very, one hundred percent, naked.

The mint duvet was pooled around his legs on the ground and Min Yoongi, who was formerly your cat Shooky, was a fair-skinned, long-limbed, lean-bodied, very attractive tall man, with velvety black cat ears and tail and – urk! – completely intact human male genitalia. Your neck, ears, cheeks, chest, ancestors from generations long ago, all turned red in embarrassment. Once again, you soul completely left your body in pure mortification.

“D… Don’t leave!” you blurted, snapping the door closed.

Yoongi just stood there, sighing as he heard the door lock and a body bolt down the apartment building stairs.

“You didn’t even change out of your pajamas…” he muttered, picking up the duvet.

-

"I can't wear these."

It was a few hours later. Thankfully, when you arrived home with your purchases, your cat... man was asleep, wrapped like a mint cake roll in your duvet. You tried not to think about his naked body on your bed, therefore ending up thinking about his naked body on your bed. 

"You need to wear pants! For..."

Dark eyebrows raised. 

"Decency!"

After getting home, you had spent the next thirty minutes hand-washing a black t-shirt, black boxer briefs, and loose black pants that were definitely too short but it was the only size available that could fit that waist, so you had to make do. You put the other shirts and underwear in the washing machine, but you needed to wash at least one outfit and hang it to dry. You tried to use the hottest water your hands could handle to sterilize the clothing, wincing at the blistering heat. 

You didn't know if Yoongi could get coronavirus but you weren't going to risk it. 

Eventually you placed everything on the drying rack and positioned your space heater on them to dry them off. 

Then you passed out on the couch. You deserved it, after working so hard.

Only to be woken up by Yoongi poking your shoulder roughly and telling you he couldn't wear the underwear and pants. 

He was still holding the duvet around his body and your neck was still regretting every second of sleeping on the couch. Ow. Too much physical labor. Quarantine had turned you into a formless potato. You sat up halfway, wincing. Ugh, pain. You jabbed your finger at Yoongi, who gave you a displeased narrowing of his eyes. 

"Put the pants on, you animal!"

Yoongi swept around the sofa, mint duvet and all, determined glint in his dark orbs, lips pursed in annoyance. You started, cracking your neck by accident, yelping in pain as you fell back against the couch.

Yoongi planted himself on top of you nimbly.

You froze.

Partly because you were shocked, but mostly because your neck seized a bit.

His legs were on either side of you, body still wrapped up, perfectly balanced despite the sudden leap, surveying you with a disapproving and discerning eye. The silver bell on his neck jingled with his movement. You could feel his calves against your knees.

His bare calves.

"Are you dumb?"

"What?" you croaked in response.

Yoongi rolled his eyes. "You always forget things."

You blinked at him, confused, neck heating. "What are you talking about?" you snapped impatiently.

"This."

Thump.

You felt something long and furry hit your leg. Your body almost jerked up in surprise, but Yoongi hissed at you, making you lurch back, somewhat stunned at how cat-like it sounded. It was definitely a warning. You were still in your pajamas, slightly thinner material than your usual clothes. It had been cold outside, but your everlasting embarrassment had kept you toasty warm.

Like it was now, because you realized your clothed outer thigh was touching his inner thigh.

His naked inner thigh.

You let out a noise between shock and confusion.

"Urk?"

The long, furry thing brushed against your legs as Yoongi watched you reach your slow realization.

"O-oh... Right. You have a tail..."

He grunted, thinning his eyes into slits. "Yes, because I am a cat."

Highly debatable at the moment, but you were too busy remembering your cat also had a human dick and nuts. Well, not also. Only had? Well. Maybe if you had a seco–

No. No, never mind that. Yeah.

Never.

Mind.

You gulped, trying to suppress the rising heat in your ears and failing. "I can sew?"

Yoongi tilted his head, nose wrinkling a bit. Then he got off you, circling around the couch. You sat up, neck still hurting, but the warmth of your embarrassment somehow helping. Yes, great, trading temporary physical pain for lifetime mental embarrassment, only for such moments to be remembered at the most inopportune times to throw you off guard.

Awesome.

You visibly cringed before standing up, seeing Yoongi's hand snake out and nab the boxer briefs, making them disappear into the duvet. You saw the fabric rustle and then the briefs reappeared, chucked at your face.

Your head snapped back at the force, arms flailing.

"Mmphf!"

"Should be about four or five centimeters. Make it quick. It's hot under here."

You yanked the underwear off your face, scowling. "I'm not your maid!"

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, black ears flicking. He was smirking at you. You narrowed your eyes. What was this guy so high and mighty for? If anything, he should be grateful that you even car–

"You're been cleaning up my literal shit for a few years now, so you are practically are my maid."

... Wait a second, he's right.

You growled and hauled yourself up.

-

An hour later, your cat was dressed.

Cat?

Man?

Whatever.

Min Yoongi was finally wearing clothes and not your duvet and your fingers stung like a bitch.

You ended up snipping a hole and using bias tape to seal off the raw edges. You didn’t own a sewing machine, so this was the next best thing you could think of without destroying your fingers by trying to imitate zig-zag stiches, although you ended up destroying your fingers anyway because you had to sew small, delicate stitches to attach the bias tape. The area was too high traffic to not reinforce.

Sigh.

“Please tell me you know how to use the bathroom by yourself from now on.”

Yoongi had raised an eyebrow.

“Of course. I’ve watched you enough times to know how to expel human excrement.”

Right. Because he was your cat. Don’t think about it too much. You were trying to take everything one thing at a time so you didn’t overwhelm yourself. Those were future-you problems. Why does he talk like that anyway? You didn’t even know how he knew Korean. Was it because you watched too much television? Yikes.

You rubbed your forehead, dismissing the discussion. “Good talk.”

You realized you would have to cut openings for his tail for all the underwear on the drying rack but, again, that was a future-you problem. Instead, you let him change in your bedroom and went to retrieve the laptop on your coffee table. Plugged it in and turned it on.

All your settings were wack.

“The fuck?” you muttered, resetting your display, volume, brightness, sigh, nearly everything. This only happened when a certain someone stepped on the keys when you weren’t looking. You raised your voice, still looking at the screen. “Did you fuck with my computer last night?”

“No. Oh, well, I did sleep on it,” Yoongi was saying as he stepped out of your bedroom. You growled in your chest, annoyed, but setting everything back into its place before opening your Google calendar. Nothing due immediately, thank god. “Er, maybe you shouldn’t…”

You looked up.

Oh.

Oh?

Oh!

Yoongi mussed his black hair, scratching at his velvety black ear. You noticed he didn’t have a set of human ears. Well, duh. That’d be weird. He was still wearing the black choker with the little silver bell on it. The t-shirt was nicely loose on his frame, the black standing out against his fair skin. The sweatpants were a little short on the ankle, the slim fit showing off his leanness. The sleek black tail swished back and forth.

He was… handsome.

Yoongi looked apprehensive, twisting his lips to one side. “Hmm.”

You blinked at him. “What?”

He shrugged. “Well, when I woke up as a human, I was cold, except for…” His hand ghosted towards his crotch. He pulled it away, waving it aside. “Mmm, never mind.”

You gave him a confused look and went back to your keyboard, typing away. Yoongi winced but you were too busy replying to an email to think too much about it.

-

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program to inform you of the following.

Min Yoongi had woken up on the coffee table, fucking freezing because humans didn’t have fur, and because his nuts and dick were getting roasted by your overheating laptop keyboard.

Upon waking up, he had a mild mental breakdown as you continued snoring loudly and unceremoniously, before scurrying away to the warmest place he knew – your bed, where he claimed the duvet and tried to figure out what the fuck was going on.

Is this real life?

He had poked at various parts of his new body, trying to figure out if this was a dream or a horrific nightmare.

As we all know.

Life is a horrific nightmare, so indeed, this was real life.

-

You jumped as Yoongi slumped down on the sofa next to you, sticking his head and ears into your view, blocking the computer screen.

“I’m hungry.”

You gawked at him.

“What a-are you d-doing?” you sputtered.

“I’m hungry,” he repeated. He had a bit of a raspy, almost growly voice at times, reminding you of a cat’s meow. His meow, in fact.

You scooted away, neck heating. Yoongi followed, prodding you.

“Why are you like this?” you grumbled irritably, smacking his hand. Yoongi persisted, as if you did nothing at all.

“This is how I get your attention, because you humans will ignore me if I don’t.”

“You’re a human too!”

“No, I am a cat.”

“Hello?” You grabbed his hand and jabbed at his palm, pointing to his thumb. “Cats don’t have thumbs!”

Yoongi yanked his hand out, shockingly similar to how Shooky used to pull his paw out when you were massaging his little white socks and he was over it. You noticed his cuticles looked a bit dry and torn up. Lately, Shooky’s paws had been a little chewed up too. You frowned at it, tilting your head.

Yoongi stood up and his tail whacked you in the face.

“Ow!”

“Feed me.”

You scowled, rubbing your cheek. Yoongi stared down at you, face expressionless.

Okay, your cat might be a man now, but he was still a borderline asshole, so not much had changed.

“Fine.”

-

You both stared at the bowl of dry cat food.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow.

“What am I supposed to do with all this cat food then? I just brought it last week!”

“That’s your problem.”

You threw up your hands and cooked you both some lunch.

-

This was too much.

You know what you did when it was too much?

You took a nap.

You had dishes to clean, underwear to make tail-holes for, a cat that was now a man, an existential crisis to address, but you know what? You took a fucking nap instead. You left Yoongi with your computer and Netflix and told him to do whatever as long as none of it involved him leaving the house.

Yoongi had snorted. “What do I need to go out there for?”

“Awesome. I’m taking a nap.”

And you passed out.

Only to wake up groggily because your lungs were being crushed.

Actually no, it kind of felt like your whole torso was being crushed.

“Urk…!”

You fought with your sleepiness, somehow worse off than you had been before the nap, scrunching up your face ad blinking blearily. Head on memory foam pillow, check. Back on soft mattress, check. Black hair with sleek cat ears and pale face pressed on your chest? Check.

What, wait?

“Gah!”

You lurched and the head grunted, shoulders solidly pinning you down. He was under the mint-colored duvet. Yoongi, your cat that was now a man, was under the duvet.

UNDER THE DUVET.

“Stop yelling. Is that all you humans do? Yell?”

“Why are you – what are you doing here?” you hissed shrilly, trying to wiggle out from under him, but it was impossible. Yoongi was far too big now for you to throw him off.

“Sleeping, obviously,” he grumbled. “Or I was, until you started shouting.”

“Yes, but this is my bed,” you emphasized, realizing you could move your hands so you grabbed him by the waist, fingers grasping the black jersey fabric. You pressed inwards, hands molding to his sides.

Yoongi raised his head, squinting down at you.

You froze.

An oddly familiar gaze of accusation and uncaring. His eyes were dark brown, not the recognizable mint, but the effect was the same. Pink lips upturned, slightly annoyed.

And.

You suddenly remembered he was a man.

A man who was pressed down against you, long legs around your legs, broad chest to your chest, and shockingly attractive for someone who used to be a cat.

“I sleep in your bed all the time. What’s the difference?” Yoongi muttered.

What’s the difference?

The difference???

You’re a man!

A HOT MAN!!!

You struggled to find words, completely entranced by how close Yoongi’s face was to yours, watching his ears adjust slightly to pick up all the small sounds around him. You opened your mouth and it only made a tiny squeak. The pressure on your chest was becoming unbearable. You were so shocked that you completely forgot that you were still dying. You cleared your throat as Yoongi looked increasingly displeased.

“You… You used to be over the duvet…”

Yoongi yawned, nodding a little. “Yes, but it’s colder now. No more fur. I don’t know how you humans survive. Must be why you buy these warm things.”

Your hands were still on his waist. You pulled them away quickly and Yoongi frowned.

“Y-Yeah, but… you weigh a lot more now…” you croaked. “Can’t… breathe…”

Yoongi sighed heavily, as if this was a great disappointment. He slid off you.

“Hmm, I suppose that’s true.”

He nestled close to you and you still stunned, pin-straight body.

“Guess it’ll have to be like this instead from now on.”

Like this?

From now on?

Oh. Oh no.

Yoongi’s velvety, pointed ear flicked against your cheek, a low hum resounding in his chest.

-

part ii

--

masterpost

[diavolosthots]

I'm lonely, contemplating life, and mildly angered so I decided to continue this. Guess this is going to be my comfort series on bad nights.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚MAMMON proposing headcanons ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Marriage was never something he extensively thought about. Of course, he would like a giant wedding with things all dedicated to him, and his s/o, but that’s where the issue comes in. 

As much as he likes to think there’s someone out there for everyone, it always seemed like destiny or whatever skipped over him and he wouldn’t have that someone.

Until you came along, of course, his little MC. His precious jewel, more valuable than all the gold and Grimm combined. You brought light and laughter and joy into his world and made him believe that maybe the heavens hadn’t skipped over him; you are his heaven. 

It definitely was a shock to him, or was it? As much as he likes to say you were totally annoying in the beginning and he couldn’t stand your guts, that’s simply not true. He admired you, for a human, and he realized pretty quickly that you would be special to everyone, but especially him. 

Seeing as he is your self proclaimed protector and the best you’ll ever have, he needs a ring that will represent that, and the best part? He worked hard for it. 

Yes you heard that right, he actually saved his Grimm to get one he loved and would represent you really well, or at least he thinks it would represent you really well. 

He kind of knew what he was looking for, even if he couldn’t put an exact finger on it until he saw it. 

The ring he decided on was a gold, split ring, with the top part thicker than the bottom. It was still just one ring, it just opened up on the main stone. The main stone was an oval diamond, topped and surrounded by smaller diamonds. The bottom of the split also surrounded the main diamond before getting smaller and smaller. It almost looked like the diamond was wearing a crown, which only seems fitting, considering you’re royalty to him. 

He was proud of his find, very proud. Although he could only hope that you would also like it. 

Proposing was a whole different spiel. He wanted it to be natural and fun, when the time is right, so he carried the ring around for weeks in his jacket��s pocket in hopes to capture the right moment, until one day he did

You both were running away from Lucifer, having been part of a prank that Satan initiated although Lucifer only seemed to be chasing you two for whatever reason. Mammon and you ran through the Devildom streets, half scared and half laughing out loud, holding each other’s hands until you hid behind one of the castle’s many outside walls. 

Heavy breathing and grinning faces painted the night sky between you two and you leaned in to kiss him, feeling him melt against you. 

“(Y/N),... there’s somethin’ I needa tell ya…” He pulled back sheepishly, feeling himself get more and more nervous with every passing second, but he can’t back out now. The ring was already burning holes into his pocket.

Concerned washed over your face as you looked at him, “what is it? Hurry… I don’t want Lucifer to catch us…

Lucifer, right… he momentarily forgot about the guy. Shaking his head, he smiled softly, taking the silly sunglasses off so you could really see him. 

“Before Lucifer can even get a hand on ya, I need ya to hold mine…” He smiles softly, taking one of your hands in his before stepping back a bit. 

“(Y/N)..... I ain’t one to get sappy, although ya tell me different all the time… but yer mean the world to me, literally. I thought, for the longest time… I thought I ain’t ever gonna have anyone, that what my brothers say is true and that I ain’t nothin’ but useless and a waste of space…”

He looks sadly at you for a moment before his face beams up again and he squeezes your hand, taking a knee in front of you and pulling out the box, opening it up to reveal the ring with a grin on his face. 

“But that ain’t true. Ya love me for who I am, and ya do silly things like this with me, all because ya love me, and I love ya too… I love ya so much, (Y/N), I can’t imagine another day without ya by my side… I want ya in my life forever, really, until the world falls to pieces and nothing exists anymore, and even beyond that… so, (Y/N), please… will you marry me?” 

[wondersofdreaming]

Sex on Fire - 3

Co-written with @radaofrivia​

Characters: AU Captain Syverson - Gynaecologist, dr. Syverson x female reader

Word count: 7.601

Warnings: NSFW! Overthinking. Talking to a dog. Flirting. Nervous energy. A little awkwardness. Smut. 69. Making love. Love. Fluff. The end.

Author’s note: This story was co-written with the lovely @radaofrivia​​ - who wrote the beautiful smutty parts.

The dividers are made by @firefly-graphics

This story is dedicated to all the women who struggle with pain. It doesn’t matter where that pain is, but know that you are not alone.

Please go enjoy her stories here:

Rada’s Masterlist

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the reader who is a figment of my imagination.

MY MASTERLIST

Sex on Fire Masterlist

Feedback is appreciated.

“What have I gotten myself into?

You stood in front of the mirror, having changed into the fifth dress, but nothing you had tried on was good enough for a date with the hottest doctor in town. A loud groan left your lips, making your sister peek inside your room.

“Everything alright in here?” she asked, looking over the room. Clothes were spread everywhere, shoes thrown all over, and you pacing in front of the closet, desperately trying to find something fitting to wear. “Looks like a tornado went through.”

“I have nothing to wear! So please, either come help me or get out,” you snapped. You heard the angry tone in your voice and turned around to face your younger sister, who looked mildly annoyed at you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like a bitch.”

“Care to tell me what’s going on? I thought you were excited to go out with the dashing doctor?” She asked and went to sit on the only available space on the bed.

You picked up the five discarded pieces of clothing.

“This,” you held up the first dress, “is too short. He’ll think I’m a whore.”

“Then wear leggings underneath it. Do I need to remind you, sissy, that he has already seen you butt-naked?”

You glared at your sister, feeling she didn’t understand your situation that this date had to be perfect.

What if our attraction was a fluke?

“This,” you showed the second dress, “is too long. He’ll think I’m a prude.”

“Then cut it to the right length.”

What if he thinks I was an easy prey? I was. I practically begged him to fuck me. Fuck!

You were starting to sweat as you held up the third dress.

“This shows too much cleavage. He’ll think I’m trying to seduce the entire restaurant.”

“Wear a shirt under it.”

What if he isn’t taking me to a restaurant? What if we’re going to his place?

You kept rambling about the fourth and fifth dress, and your sister retorted with solutions to each of them.

“Sissy, your thoughts are so loud I think even he can hear them.”

You threw a dress in her face.

“You’re thinking of every possibility that this could go wrong, aren’t you?”

“No…” you mumbled, but a good death stare from your sister made you change your mind from lying, “Yes, I’m scared, Pat. What if he isn’t the man he made me believe he is? What if he’s a serial killer disguised as a vaginal doctor? What if he’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing? What if I’m walking right into grandma’s house and get eaten by the big bad wolf?”

“Stop, stop, you’re making no sense whatsoever…”

“And what if he doesn’t like me? What if we don’t have any chemistry? What if… oh my god, what if he only wants me as a fuck-buddy?”

You were pacing around your room, walking through the clothes, kicking the shoes away from your wandering path. Your sister grabbed your wrist and pulled you down on the bed.

“You are overthinking,” she booped your nose, “You are a gorgeous human being, very pretty too, if I have to say so myself. If he was only going to have you as his fuck-buddy, then you either say yes, because God knows you need a good fuck, or you say no because you’re looking for something deeper. And he wouldn’t have asked you on a date if he wasn’t into you! Take a deep breath with me.”

You both inhaled and exhaled, again and again, until your heartbeat wasn’t about to gallop right out of your chest.

“Now that you’re nice and calm… eh, ish, let’s put on some music and get you ready for your date. I have the perfect dress for you to wear tonight, just promise not to spill wine on it.”

Lucas walked out of the steaming shower, wrapping a large fluffy towel around his hips. His dog, a German Shepherd, was lying on the carpeted bedroom floor by the door. Her brown eyes were staring at him intensely like she knew that he was going somewhere.

“I’ll be home as soon as I can, Aika. And I promise to bring your favourite treat from the restaurant,” he told the dog. Mention of the treat perked her ears up.

Sy chuckled as he started grooming his beard. Then a light went off in his mind.

Fuck, what if she doesn’t like dogs?

He looked apologetically at Aika, who was drooling on the carpet, already tasting the treat on her palate.

Lucas finished in the bathroom and went to his spacious walk-in closet.

“What should I wear, girl?” He asked as if Aika knew what was hot in fashion. She walked over to where he hung his trousers, sniffed a few before picking a grey pair down from the hanger. She then managed to trot over to him with a pair of brown leather shoes.

“Well, thanks, girl, these are perfect. So what do you think, a white shirt or a black shirt?” Sy held each piece up to Aika, and she barked happily at the white shirt, her tail wagging excitedly. The dashing doctor also chose a matching grey suit jacket. He looked himself over in the mirror.

“I really want this to work, Aika,” he mumbled to his dog, who cocked her head to the side. “I think she’s amazing, and I hope she likes dogs because if not, I would be really sad… to say goodbye to you.”

Aika growled at him, making Sy laugh out loud.

“Sorry girl, I’m just kidding, I’m kidding. You belong with me, forever and always,” he scratched her belly. “What do I do if I make an ass out of myself?”

Aika rolled around and let out a loud ‘woof’ as if she was saying that he should just be himself.

“Okay, I’ll do my best. But what if she’s not who I think she is? What do I do then?”

Aika let out a deep rumble from her chest. I’ll bite her sorry ass if she isn’t.

You walked down the pavement looking for the restaurant Sy had texted you the address of. Sy was standing out front, waiting for you, he looked so handsome in his grey suit, and now you felt you might have been under-dressed. His face lit up in a warm grin, and his eyebrows arched when he saw you moving towards him. You smiled shyly back.

As Sy leaned down to kiss her cheek, you were going for his lips, ending in an awkward angled greeting.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you whispered at the same time he said: “Sorry!”

You stood there, looking down on the pavement, red-faced and suddenly very shy, not knowing what to do next while he was staring at you, not being able to take his eyes off you.

Lucas chuckled and presented his arm.

“Shall we go in?”

He was smiling at you, trying his best not to make your encounter awkward. You took his arm and was led into the restaurant. You looked around at the warm and comfortable atmosphere of the room. Chinese lanterns were hanging down from the loft, casting a soft light over space. The wooden tables had an induction heating plate for the hotpot that could contain either one, two or four different soups. The couple were seated near the covered fishing pond that was placed in the middle of the restaurant, a glass wall surrounding the pond, so no one could fall and get wet. The koi fish were swimming around, showing off their orange, red, white, and black scales. It was a soothing and calming sight and helped you relax in the presence of the handsome doctor.

A waitress came to take your drink orders while you looked through the menu.

“Oh, I don’t know what goes well with anything here,” you said, suddenly feeling so out of place.

“May I suggest one of their beers? They’re really good,” Lucas smiled at you warmly as he gave his drink order. You ordered one of their light and refreshing beers.

You looked down at the menu again. Not knowing what to pick as everything sounded delicious.

“There’s so much food,” you commented with a giggle.

“Do you want to try one of their special menus? That way, you can try a little of everything,” Sy suggested.

“I’d like that.”

The waitress came back with their drinks, and Sy rambled away your order. He ordered the four soup hot pot, various meats, seafood, vegetables, and an enormous amount of different types of noodles.

“How did you come by this place?” You asked, taking a sip of beer.

“I was walking around the neighbourhood one day with my sisters, and one of them wanted dumplings, another some noodles, and the third wanted some soup. I searched for a restaurant that had all three things, and this place popped up. It has become my favourite restaurant in the entire city,” he was a vivid storyteller that doctor.

“You brought me to your favourite restaurant?”

“Well, yes. I know it’s not the most traditional place to have a first date, but the food is amazing,” a pink blush crept up his neck and reached his cheeks.

“I think it’s the perfect place for a first date. I like trying new things,” you assured him, watching as a boyish grin of pride spread on his lips. God, how you wanted to kiss those lips.

“I hope you mean that because here comes the food,” Sy nodded towards the three waiters walking with an extra table full of food and the pot filled with the four soups.

“Oh dear,” you watched as they set the plates full of meat around you. “Are we feeding an army?”

“Trust me, darling, this might not be enough when we first get started,” Sy smiled. He reached for his chopsticks, “Have you eaten with chopsticks before?”

You gasped, pretending to be offended.

“I will let you know, doctor, that I was trained by the best to eat with chopsticks,” you showed him your hold, “My sister loves to get Chinese takeout when none of us feels like cooking, and there’s a restaurant that makes the best potstickers and chow mein.”

“Maybe we can order from there one day,” Sy suggested, his voice soft and full of promises.

“I’d like that. So, how do we do this?” you asked.

Lucas told you about the four different soups. They ranked from not-so-spicy to hell’s gate spicy. He talked about all the different cuts of meat, how to just put the ingredients in the soup, advising that you put in the lotus root first as it took a long time to cook.

While the doctor was talking, you were watching him. Your sole focus was on the way his lips moved and his tongue darting out from time to time. That tongue, that godly tongue.

His voice was rich and deep, so smooth and velvety you wanted to hear him talk forever. He caught you ogling at him.

“Everything alright?” he asked, looking a bit confused.

“Yeah, I was just thinking how amazing you look out of your white coat,” you blurted, making Sy laugh and blush an even deeper shade of pink before turning red.

“Why thank you, but I think the real showstopper tonight is you. You look beautiful,” he complimented.

“You’re just saying that because I complimented you first,” you giggled like a teenage schoolgirl with a crush.

Sy shook his head as he reached for the pieces of meat he had put in the soups. He picked one out and moved the chopsticks closer to your mouth.

“Try this,” he recommended. You closed your mouth around the chopsticks, letting the meat fall on your tongue. The sweet umami flavour of the pork was melting in your mouth, and you let out a soft moan.

Lucas was watching your mouth closely. The mouth that had been sucking him off a few days earlier in his office. The pretty mouth that swallowed his seed. His pants were suddenly feeling very snug around his groin area. Fuck, not now!

Thankfully his horny thoughts were interrupted by your suggestion.

“My turn to feed you,” you dove into the spiciest soup and picked out a dumpling. Why does he look so good? Lord, what is he thinking? Why is he looking at me like that? Something on my face?

Your hand was shaking a bit as you leaned over to give the dumpling to Sy, and then you dropped it, watching in slow motion as gravity did its thing, making the dumpling land on Lucas’ crisp white shirt and then down to his lap it went.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” you exclaimed. You quickly stood with your napkin and went over to clean the mess you had made. Lucas had picked up the fallen dumpling, not even thinking about the stain the red soup had made. He was having sinful thoughts of you sitting on your knees trying to wash off the red colour with your napkin.

“I ruined your shirt,” you sighed as the stain became worse, and it started to spread the more you rubbed the fabric.

“You’ve made it a habit to ruin my clothes, sunshine,” Lucas chuckled, but his laughter died quickly as you dabbed the napkin on his thigh, moving closer to the hard-on he was willing to go soft, but too late.

Oh, ooooooh.

“Maybe I don’t like that they’re hiding what nature has so gracefully given you,” you smirk up at him, giving him a sultry look.

Lucas swallowed hard. You could see his throat tensing as his Adam's apple bopped up and down. He’s looking you straight in the eyes, trying his best to restrain himself from taking you right then and there.

“God, I love your boldness,” his voice was low, soft, almost velvety, as if he was trying to tell you with the tone of his voice alone how much he wanted you. The smoothness of his voice was sending shivers down your spine, and some part of your brain was signalling that now was the time for you to attack him, rip his clothes off, ride him right there in the chair, not even caring about the people around you.

“Is everything okay?” A waitress asked, interrupting the moment. You snapped out of your lust-filled haze and went back to your chair. Sy coughed, masking his even dirtier thoughts.

“Yes, everything is good. The food is amazing. Can we get two shots of baijiu?” he asked, suddenly in need of something strong to stay put during dinner.

The waitress came back with the shots. Lucas held up his glass.

“Cheers,” he said and downed the clear liquid in one go, but you took a small sip.

“Oh shit, it’s burning my throat,” you gasped, putting the shot down.

“Believe me, you’re going to need all of it until we’ve finished eating,” Sy hinted at something more.

You inhaled the shot, letting the fire spread throughout your chest all the way down to your thighs and throbbing core. Your brain was slowly getting fuzzier, giving you the courage to ask him what had been on your mind since he asked you on the date.

“What are we, doctor?” You blurted, not thinking about how loud you actually were. You continued as you watched confusion spread on his handsome face: “What are you looking for in a partner? Are we going to be a no-strings-attached kind of thing? Casual hookup?”

You stopped and took a deep breath, waiting for his answer. You watched his lips, trying to avoid his eyes. If he wanted a ‘friends with benefits’-relationship, you would be devastated.

“There’s nothing casual about you, buttercup,” Sy was surprised by what you had just told him. He couldn’t deny the connection there was between the two of you. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he felt it deep in his guts that there was something more, and he wanted to be more for you. “I want to get to know you. I want to explore the deep connection that we have and see where it leads us. What about you? What are you looking for?”

“I… I want that too. Because to me, this. What we have is too good to be just an emotionless thing,” you started, “I feel safe around you, Lucas. I don’t know why, but I do. Do I make any sense? Because I feel like I’m just sitting here rambling…”

Lucas grabbed your hands across the table, avoiding the soups. He caressed the soft skin over your knuckles. His protective instinct was on overload, he wanted to protect you, and his heart was racing from hearing you say that you felt safe around him.

“You make sense to me, bug.”

Your first date had been perfect, so were the following dates afterwards. Lucas Syverson was the perfect gentleman and taken it like a champ when you had asked to take things slow, especially with you not knowing if it was still going to hurt when having sex. You wanted to have your ‘problem’ solved before you took that all-intimate next step with Sy. You built a beautiful relationship and a strong friendship from your attraction.

Lucas had invited you out for lunch one day. He asked about how it was going with the new gynaecologist he had recommended, a woman, as he wasn’t keen on knowing another man touching you in such an intimate place. You told him that you had been referred to a physiotherapist and was going to see a specialist in vaginal diseases.

With time you hurt less and less, and it was with the support from your sister and Sy that you continued the different treatments the doctors gave you. You stretched out muscles in your abdominal area. You used soap that was for intimate use only. You even started using an anaesthetic gel to relax the nerves in your vagina by Sy’s recommendation. You had cursed him all the way to hell the first time you’d used it, even as far as telling him that it burnt worse than the alcohol shot he made you drink at the Hot Pot restaurant. You were walking like you’d ridden a horse all day long until the burning stopped after a few minutes, and Sy had kept his laughter to himself, not wanting to hurt your feelings, but when you had started giggling from looking at yourself in the mirror, he couldn’t stop the roaring laughter either.

Sy was very helpful when you were exercising. He had made the stretching into a game of some sort. You might not be having sex, but you could still tease each other, orally or with your hands, anything to build intimacy between the two of you. He was determined to make the process sexy and fun, not dull and boring.

You asked him to penetrate you a few times but had to tell him to pull out because the pain became too intense. Sy was extremely understanding, and he helped you through the crying afterwards, as you felt that you were never going to heal again. He loved that you were comfortable enough around him to tell him to stop, and you felt so safe with him.

It became your goal not only to have sex but to be penetrated without the pain. And you would get there eventually. For now, you would just bask in the afterglow of a good make-out session with Lucas on the sofa.

You had always felt that there was a part of you missing, a vital part, and now, with Lucas, you felt whole. You couldn’t go a day without at least texting him, saying you missed him, or when you were together, and he went to the bathroom, you missed him. When you had to go home the following day after a night of cuddling, you missed him the minute you walked out the door. Both of you felt like you were addicted to the other. It was almost becoming an obsession.

Life with a boyfriend like Sy was amazing, incredible, fantastic. He was everything you needed without having known it. And Lucas loved to have someone he could take care of, protect and maybe even love. Sy had never felt this way about anyone before. It was a fantastic feeling to have this wonderful woman he could call his girlfriend. His.

Not only were you an extraordinary human being: you also loved animals just as much as he did. If you were allowed animals in the apartment you lived in with your sister, you would have filled it already. Sy had let out a breath of relief when you’d told him. You and Aika had become cuddle buddies whenever you were visiting Lucas. The German Shepherd would completely ignore Sy and follow you around instead, and Lucas was only happy to share his girl with his other girl. The sense of having found you excited him, completed him and made him so happy.

There are two kinds of tired: one that needs a good night's sleep and one that needs so much more. Lucas fell into the second category. He was both physically and mentally exhausted from a long and hard day at work, and he also had to face the guilt for ruining your plans for a quiet dinner.

“Plans are made to be changed,” you told him when he called you to cancel your dinner plans and suggest grabbing something to eat and spend the evening at his place instead.

"And I really like the sound of staying in and just cuddling with you, big bear," you whispered in your phone so your colleagues wouldn’t hear you.

"Big bear?"

"Yes, you're massive, hairy and just like a big cuddly teddy bear," finishing the phrase you noticed that one of your colleagues, Rita, was looking at you, chuckling at your big bear comment. You cleared your throat and with all the seriousness you could muster you told Sy: “I can’t talk right now. Call me when you get here,” and quickly ended the call, turning to her, “he’s an activist for the conservation of big brown bears.”

“Yeah, right,” she laughed. “Have fun with your bear-man, girl, you don’t need to explain yourself.” She winked at you and went about her work.

To your dismay, Lucas didn’t follow your instructions and decided that would be the day he showed his face to your work coming into the library to pick you up. He walked into the place, standing tall, his long strides and posture showing a sense of confidence and ease. He was as handsome as always, in his dress jacket, white shirt and jeans. Upon entering the library, he took off his sunglasses revealing his cobalt blue stare that made people stop in their tracks and this time was no different.

“Oh my God!” You heard your colleague gasping next to you when she laid eyes upon him. A small grin formed on your face to her reaction. You watched your man getting closer, noticing that his face looked tired, something only you would notice. The moment your eyes met a warm, sweet smile spread on his gorgeous lips, lighting up his face.

“Do they accept new members in the bear conservation club?” She asked not too loud, but loud enough for Sy to hear, who was standing right in front of you now. You blushed from embarrassment and broke eye contact with him. His soft laughter brought your eyes back on him.

"Sadly all positions have been filled up," he countered looking directly at you with a lopsided grin. “Ready to go home, sunshine?” You nodded excited, picking up your things quickly and moving on Lucas’ side, looping your arm around his offered elbow.

“Have a good evening, Rita,” you said giddily, looking back at her as she was fanning herself trying to cool off to the sight of Sy’s behind.

"What would you like to eat for dinner?" Sy asked as he opened the car door.

"You," you whispered silently.

In the shower, the water came down warm and soothing, washing the weariness and bad energy of the day off of Lucas’ body. He took some time for himself to relax and find his balance again. But the thought of you sitting on the other side of the wall made him impatient. He needed to be close to you.

Aika whimpered at you, licking your fingers and begging for another treat. You were lying on Sy’s bed, flipping through channels, nibbling at the leftovers of your Chinese takeout, with a comfortable, fluffy pillow behind you, soft and crisp sheets underneath you and Aika laying across your lap, sharing the guilty pleasure of eating in bed with you.

“Shhh, girl! Do you want him to hear us?” You whispered at her, feeding her another bite of the delicious potstickers you had for dinner. She gulped the treat and then licked your hand in gratitude. “Eating in bed is the best, right Aika?” You told her in a colluding way, scratching your accomplice behind her ears. You knew that Sy didn’t approve of eating in bed nor sharing food with Aika, so you both were on the lookout for when he would finish his shower. You didn’t want him to find out the ‘magic tricks’ you had used to gain Aika’s trust so fast.

The moment you heard Sy turning off the water, you both jumped up, Aika taking her usual place at the foot end of the bed acting all cool, and you ran to hide the evidence in the kitchen and wash your hands from the grease. In a minute, you were back in bed pretending you were watching TV. Of course, you had no idea what was on.

“What are my girls doing?” The bathroom door opened, and Sy came out with a towel wrapped loosely around his hips. He leaned lazily on the door frame, smiling in all his wet, half-naked glory, making you choke on your own drool. Quickly, you gathered yourself trying to sound as convincing as possible.

“Nothing special, just sitting here and relaxing.”

Sy walked across the room heading for his dresser that was on your side. Your eyes followed every move he made, studying even the tiniest dent and bump his muscles formed. At the view of his butt, a very unladylike sound escaped your throat.

‘Everything ok, sweetheart?” Lucas asked absentmindedly while looking for his underwear.

“Mh-mm,” you nodded, turning your eyes to the TV. There was a short pause after you heard him close the drawer.

“Babe, is there something you want to tell me?” You craned up your head to meet his eyes. His face was serious. The only thing that kept you from worrying was a small twitch of a smile on his lips. Oh, his lips.

“Huh? Like what?” You asked puzzled.

“I don't know, maybe you want to confess something?” Your mind started racing, a hundred thoughts per second: you are so hot, take off that towel, take me now, how lucky can a girl be, you are perfect, I love you. What? Where did that come from?

“Uhh, no. I don’t think so,” you mumbled trying to hide the instant blushing on your face.

“Don’t you think that trust and openness are important, darling?” He leaned over you, his hand running over your jaw. So busted! But how?

“Of course!” You gulped, readying yourself for the revelation.

“Then can you tell me, why are there crumbs on the bed, bug?”

“What?” That was not what you were expecting.

“Aika?” Sy turned to the German shepherd. She whimpered, hiding her snout in her paws and quickly left the room.

“Traitor,” you muttered.

“I thought we had an agreement on this,” Sy spoke softly, putting on his underwear and sweatpants and headed to his side of the bed.

“I want her to like me,” you confessed in a small, guilty voice.

Lying down, Lucas let a deep sigh out, finally being able to relax and cuddle with his girlfriend. He pulled you closer letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Baby, you don’t need to buy her off. I’m sure that Aika loved you the first moment she met you… just like her owner.” Sy’s voice drifted off as he started zoning out, feeling so relaxed in your arms. Your breath caught in your throat, gazing at him like you saw the sun for the first time after an eternity of darkness. You wanted to say so many things but couldn’t find the words to bring out of your head. The only thing you could utter was:

“Wrap your arms around me,” you felt the need to be close to him, lost in him.

“How’s that?” He murmured with his eyes closed.

“Perfect.” He brought his face in your hair, inhaling deeply from your scent.

“Mmmmm, you smell amazing.” This felt so right to him, holding you and being held. He tightened his arms around you. Being in his embrace felt so soothing, calming and safe to you, that you let out a soft purring sound.

“Did you just purr?” He opened his eyes, a huge grin forming on his face.

“No….”

“I think you did.”

“Uh-oh,” you said lazily, burying your face into his neck.

“Alright. But in case you did, I find it really cute.’’ He let you know in his deep, soft and gentle voice.

“I might have…” Your admission made you both dissolve into laughter allowing you to release all the pent up energy. Once out of your laughing fit, you were both left gazing into each other’s eyes. It was you who made the first move, bringing your hand on his cheeks, your fingers idly playing with the curls in his beard before you kissed him, slowly at first, lips tracing lips, becoming deeper, bolder and more intense as your tongues danced in a passionate rhythm. The moan that escaped his mouth when you finished the kiss, gently biting and tagging his lower lip set you on fire.

Sy felt he was on cloud nine. His head was spinning with giddy happiness. The way your body was moulded to fit him like a puzzle piece. His heart was galloping, his mind was going crazy, his feelings were all over the place with joy and love, he felt loved, so loved. But the minute you moved to sit in his lap, grinding against him as if you were riding a horse, his mind was transported to another place, only thinking about how good the friction between you felt, he wanted so bad to make love to you, to make you feel as good as you were doing to him at the moment.

He was still lost in your kiss, basking in your touch with his eyes closed as you kissed your way from his neck to his ear whispering:

“Baby, I think I'm ready.”

He opened his eyes, blinking lazily. At first, he didn’t understand what you were talking about. He looked straight into your eyes, his eyebrows furrowed with question. You caressed his face softly, waiting for realisation to hit him. The smile on your face, the feeling in your eyes soon let him in on the meaning of your words. His heart had skipped a beat as he truly grasped your words. You saw the surprise register on his face, his breathing quickened, his lips parted ever so slightly, his hands stilling on the lower part of your back and a faint wrinkle showed between his eyebrows. And then immediately his short-lived surprise gave its place to happiness shining through his eyes, fueled with desire as the colour of his blue orbs turned to a dark navy ring around his full-blown pupils.

His arms wrapped around you and you felt him pulling you onto his chest. You could feel the urgency in his movements, there was raw emotion in the way his fingers curled around the fabric of your dress. He claimed your lips once again, kissing you deeply, absorbing every detail of the moment, your scent, the weight of your body against his, all the feelings that were washing over him, raising a wave of heat inside him.

The taste of him stripped you from all your thoughts, fears and senses. His kiss, hungry and intense, ignited a fire inside you. Your palms were flat on his chest, your fingers were trying to dig into his skin as if wanting to hold on for dear life before you let go of all inhibitions and get lost in him. His hands trailed down your neck, never releasing your mouth from the hot, wet kiss he had you captured. Your body reacted to his touch, sending shivers down your spine and making you moan. You brought your hands to his deep brown curls, carding your fingers through them, tugging at his roots, to feel a little bit of control as your sanity was in the balance of tipping over. The little pain that he experienced made him exude more lust, he loved how you took control, as he could unwind and let you loose.

With one strong arm around your waist, he gathered you up and moved you both to a sitting position, letting you sit astride his lap. His fingers dug into your hips and pulled you closer to him, pressing your core to his straining bulge. You couldn’t help but grind against him, letting your instinct take over. Your kissing grew more passionate, more urgent, muffled moans and gasps filling the room. Sy brought his hands on your breast, kneading the soft flesh over the light fabric of your sundress and realising that you had no bra on. A throaty noise escaped him as he broke the kiss, looking at you with blazing eyes.

“You had it planned all along, you little minx!” he growled, his thumbs tracing your perky nipples through the thin layer, weakening your core, making you lean your forehead against his for purchase. He could feel the warmth coming off your skin through the lite fabric, but it wasn't enough. He wanted to touch you, he wanted to see the delicate, subtle flesh of your breasts.

You could feel the feral animosity inside him, as you kept grinding your core to his groin. You had never seen him like this before. His hands were eager to touch more than just your dress. Before you could think about taking the dress off, it was ripped from your chest, the fierce action kicking the breath out of you. Buttons flew in every direction and landed on the soft carpeted floor.

“That was my favourite dress,” you said in a shuddering voice, watching him take in the image of your naked body like a starving beast.

“Payback time,” he snarled. He studied you, running a finger over your breastbone slowly down to your stomach, his eyes following the invisible trail his touch burnt on your skin. He left a wet kiss on your chest and licked his way to one of your nipples, taking it into his mouth, torturing it with his tongue and tugging it with his teeth making it even harder. Although his moves were slow, you could feel how aroused and ravenous he was, his breathing shallow and fast just like yours. You closed your eyes, burying your face in his hair, feeling him everywhere; his lips on your breasts, his fingers pressing into the flesh of your lower back, his erection stirring between your legs. His scent and taste defined your reality now.

Sliding your hand between your bodies and pressing firmly on his arousal made him growl like a wild animal against your skin. He looked up at you with lustful eyes ordering you to take off your clothes. The demand in his husky voice stole your breath for a second. He commanded and needed you at the same time. You stood up obediently, let the dress fall down to your ankles, slowly peeled off your panties down your legs and stepped out of them with small moves while watching him watching you.

You crawled back onto the bed languidly, wrapping your fingers at the waistband of his sweatpants, removing them slowly along with his black boxer briefs, revealing his throbbing manhood and his muscular thighs. He stared at your face through half-lidded eyes with desire, taking in how you ran your tongue over your lips at the sight of the glistening precum that oozed from the top of the head, showing your eagerness to taste him.

He pulled you against his body, holding you close, feeling the warmth of your body skin on skin, your breasts pressed into his chest and his erection straining against your body. His lips captured yours in a deep passionate kiss, owning your very existence.

“The things I wanna do to you, right now,” he moaned in your mouth, locking eyes with you.

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want to make you come. Hard.”

“Mmm, how?” you purred, biting your lower lip to the suggestion. His eyes fell on your lips again and a small wicked grin appeared on his.

“Ride my face and I’ll show you,” his voice low and heavy with desire. His words sparked an adventurous excitement inside you, making your heart start racing. A bold smile appeared on your face taking up his challenge and the look of awe in the doctor’s eyes gave you the courage to move over, stride his beard, facing towards his body. His strong hands guided your knees on either side of his head and then trailed over your body, adoring every inch of it.

The beautiful close up of your dripping core mere inches from his eager mouth made him salivate, yearning for the taste of you. His tongue started tracing the inner of your thighs, writing small circles on the sensitive skin, lazily finding his way to your lips, licking, sucking, and making them beautifully wet. But his hands on your butt cheeks, kneading the round flesh with fervour showed you that he was impatient to dive into the main course immediately.

A warm, coiled tension started building up inside you, feeling your muscles quivering in anticipation. You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding on the soft bristles of his beard, the variation in textures making you weak. You leaned slightly forward, putting your hands on his stomach to hold on, the small change in angle intensifying the sensation and giving him more space to navigate. You couldn’t tell the difference between his lips or tongue. All you could feel was just a nice, sloppy warm mess. A loud gasp escaped you when you felt his tongue run over your opening, lapping your juices.

“You taste like honey,” he grunted into your core, the vibration of his bass hitting you hard. He didn’t wait for you to answer, he went on with his smooth, wet and warm stimulation. When he hit your clit, your whole body shuddered in his tight grip. The effect he had on you made his cock jump. You leaned lower, putting your mouth on him, your fingers wrapping around the base of his shaft. You felt his body jerk upon contact and he tried to drown a curse clenching his teeth, causing you to laugh around him. But you didn’t stop, taking him deeper, giving him the attention he needed.

For a moment, he let himself get lost in your ministrations, having your eager, soft tongue wrapped around him, eyes closed, moaning deep, feeling he was growing bigger and harder in your mouth. You took advantage of his openness and brought your hand over his sack, massaging it softly, accelerating the pace, your tongue twirling around his glands every time your lips were around his head.

“Fuck!”

His hips thrust up involuntarily, searching to go deeper into the wetness of your mouth. You felt like you had the upper hand, loving the power he granted you over him, the naughty side of you wanting to make this a race of who was going to come first. But you should have known better, Sy wouldn’t let you have this one. He pressed his tongue flat on your core, intensifying the sensation and then ran it over your opening and sliding it inside you. You couldn’t keep the needy moan from escaping, feeling his tongue teasing your moist entrance and penetrating you.

Your focus was lost and so was your balance. You leaned your forehead on his pelvis, concentrating on all the pleasure he was giving you, stroking him slowly with your hand.

"Don't stop,” you whimpered, feeling the warmth of your orgasm spreading all over you. He pulled you closer against his face and shoved his tongue deeper inside you, fucking you at a frantic pace while his beard set your clit on fire. Your legs started trembling, his firm grip not allowing you to move away from him, the light tremors of your orgasm building into an earthquake, making you shudder and scream.

“God, Luc! Your tongue is magical,” you gasped as you collapsed on the bed, panting with your eyes closed. You heard his deep chuckle and felt the bed shift as he moved over, lying next to you. His arm wrapped around your waist and he scattered small kisses on your shoulder and collarbone, his beard wet from your nectar left a cooling sensation on your skin. You turned to face him, bringing your hand on his jaw, guiding him into a deep kiss. His kisses were always a delicious treat but now that you tasted yourself on his lips and tongue, it made you feel amazing and aroused again.

Never breaking your kiss, Sy laid on top of you, his weight spreading your legs apart. You couldn’t stop your hands from tracing his taut body, relishing in the texture of his muscles. You could feel he was tense, his strength, his heat increasing as he was taking over you and you couldn’t get enough of it. You needed this. You wanted to watch his face as he came inside you, to have his sweat all over you and you couldn’t believe it was finally happening. And neither could he.

He fought to control his movements and the urge to claim you hard, pouring all his passion on you. He needed his mind to take over the primal, animal instinct he was feeling at that moment. He was too far gone by now, his whole body aflame. Your voice brought him back.

“Lucas,” you whispered more breath than voice.

“Say it again. Say my name,” he said in your ear, his voice a low groan.

“Lucas, do it.”

His expression was one of intense concentration, replaced by wide sensation, as he eased slowly inside you. His thrust was slow, gentle, allowing your body to get used to his size and open up for him. You took in a deep breath as your body prepared for that familiar feeling of pain to come and tensed up but his kisses, his bites, his touch, his fire engulfed you, making you relax and forget about everything. Without even being aware of it, your pelvises touched and there you were, one deep inside the other. The realization alone made you both gasp, staring at each other with awe.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sy murmured, the overwhelming feeling choking him.

You paused for a moment, running a mental check before nodding faintly and breathing: “More”.

Sy took a moment trying to catch his breath and allowing you to catch yours. Eventually, your bodies unwinded and your breaths almost synced. With slow, soft thrusts he started moving inside you, claiming your mouth at the same slow, languid pace. Your bodies now were the closest they could be. The intense feeling of your tightness made him moan against your lips.

“I can feel every muscle inside you moving,” he gasped, “and it feels fucking incredible.”

"I love the way you feel inside me," you said, your voice giving away a slight hint of breaking, feeling a lump in your throat. You just needed to say it, tell him before your heart burst.

"I love the way I feel inside you," he let out a low content groan, not picking up your emotional overload.

"I love that I can trust you," you went on, closing your eyes trying to contain your feelings, trying to find comfort in his motions, rocking back and forth inside you.

The tears in your voice were more evident, making Sy stop and look at you with worry on his face.

"Baby... Look at me."

You couldn't bring yourself to open your eyes, you didn't want to ruin this moment for both of you.

"It's OK, bug. I'm here for you. Open your eyes."

"I love how you are always here for me," you gasped an intense sob ripping through you. "I-I love... you."

His eyes travelled from your lips forming those three words to your eyes, gazing inside them, finding your soul and claiming it as his own. He saw you, really, truly saw you and loved what was there. He tenderly caressed your face with his fingertips, wiping away the trail of your tears. He placed a feathery kiss on your lips and whispered:

"I love you too."

[razzle-berry]

Hey, could you do one of the best 1A bois (deku, bakugo, todoroki, and kiri plz) where the reader is super polite to everybody, like so nice Iida uses them as an example of politeness, and then the bf walks in to their room as you’re on a phone call with fam (little brother or something?) and cursing up a storm and bf is SHOOK. Thank you!!! Ily

Oh hell yeah, I love this! I'm not sure if you wanted just one or all of the above so... We're doing all of the above! 😄

Warnings: Some swearing, but other than that nothing! 

Character(s): Midoriya, Bakugo, Todoroki, Kirishima

EDIT: I noticed I accidently used “girl” in Kiri’s part so I edited so that it was gender neutral

Izuku Midoriya

Listen, this boy doesn’t swear all that much but even he lets out the occasional damn, shit, bastard, and the like

Not you though

You were always the picture perfect example of a model student

You’re just so sweet and polite that he swears that sparkles surround you whenever you talk

(be prepared to be asked about your quirk extensively to see if that was why)

But one day, he went to go pick you up to go train together, and you had told him to let himself in

So he did

He was not prepared to see you digging through a box, phone pressed against your ear and shoulder, yelling obscenities like it was your job

“Bitch, I fucking told you not to take it out, but do you fucking listen to me? No!”

Deku.exe has stopped working

When you noticed him, you smiled sweetly in the way that seemed so familiar yet so foreign now

“Sorry, that was my sister. Ready to go?” You said, after hanging up.

He could only nod dumbly and followed you out

Katsuki Bakugo

You two were polar opposites

“How the hell did you two get together?” Was a common question people would ask when they learned about your relationship

He didn’t mind that you were so polite despite being a brute himself

Would never admit it but he thought it was cute

So imagine his surprise when he walks in your room to pick you up for a date and hears his cute, polite s/o cursing up a storm

“Listen here you little shit rooster, if I find out you fucking used my credit card for your game, I’m coming home and I will fucking cut off your toenails in your sleep!”

Doesn’t know how to react

Is he scared? Is he amused? Mildly turned on?

Yes

You turned around and your annoyed scowl turned into a bright smile when you saw him

“Hey! Sorry, brothers are the worst.” You joked and took his arm

“That was hot.”

“Katsuki!”

Shoto Todoroki

Unlike Bakugo, people didn’t question this one as much 

You were both very polite individuals

Though his politeness came off more cold and detached than yours did

He really is doing his best, okay

Anyways, he wasn’t unfamiliar with just waltzing in your room

You had given him permission to do so as long as he sent a heads up via text or something and he was feeling lonely so here he was

Only to find one of the most surprising sights ever to behold

He thought he knew what to expect out of you

This was not it

“You know, one of the best thing about being the oldest is that I don’t give a rat’s ass who started the fight, I’m fucking finishing it. Now stop being a dick and apologize!”

He supposed that it wasn’t too far fetched that you only swore in the comfort of your own room but

Geez you went off

“Oh, hey Sho!” You said brightly after you hung up. “Sorry about that, older sibling things am I right?”

He stared at you dumbly as you laughed

Eijiro Kirishima

Sunshine one + sunshine two = sunshine relationship

Really you two have been dubbed relationship goals by Mina and Hagakure during girls night more times than you can count

And while Kiri does let out the occasional swear, he tries not to around you

It felt disrespectful and manly people respect others! 😤

So on a day that you two were supposed to be studying, you were just lying in bed cuddling when he had to use the bathroom

“I’ll be right back.” He said, and he really didn’t take long

So how the hell were you in such a different position and mood in the 3 minutes he had been gone?

“I love you, but if you don’t stop being a little bitch I’m going to cunt punt you. He doesn’t deserve you so chuck it in the fuck it bucket and move the fuck on!”

He stood there, gaping like a fish until you looked up

The bright smile you had when you looked at him simultaneously made his heart race and gave him whiplash over how fast your mood changed

“Sorry, something came up. Ready to study?”

He couldn’t even answer

[robinofgothamcity]

♡ prompt: “i thought you were dead? for years, i thought you were dead! and i hate that i still love you and never moved on!” 

♡ pairing: tim drake (red robin) x fem! reader

♡ lyric inspiration: “you’re riding high in April, shot down in May but I know I’m going to change that tune when I’m back on top in June. I said that’s life and as funny as that may seem, some people get their kicks stomping on a dream.”

♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes / please check the pinned tweet please! since i’m very low on inspiration.

Tim Drake stared at you, mouth wide open, not knowing what to say or do. he felt like he saw a ghost. you were standing across the room, talking amongst others as they instantly crowded around you. everyone had thought the same thing Tim did and only a selective few knew about your whereabouts. 

you were giving Dick a hug, whispering in his ear about how much you missed him as Damian stood there dumbfounded. Jason was not in the room or else you knew that he would be giving you an earful about the entire situation. Jason always did think of you as a sister when you first started dating Tim. 

“what the fuck happened to you?” Damian screamed, finally coming into the realization of the situation, “you were dead! we saw you die! all of us did!” he continued. you bent down, giving him a hug as he didn’t bother to try and deny it. 

“it’s a long story. i was under secrecy for a long time and couldn’t tell or say anything without me getting caught,” you told him. you looked to Dick who still couldn’t believe what was going on, “it must’ve been a monumental mission if you were technically dead for three years and I couldn’t know about it,” he replied. 

you nodded, whispering to him that you’d tell them the details later, “is...he around?” you asked, referencing Tim. Dick moved a bit to the left, revealing the man you were still madly in love with. you felt yourself gulp, scared on his reaction, “oh god, I never realized how bad this is,” Dick whispered to himself, sensing the tension immediately. 

+

you swinging around the Batcave, Batman clearly annoyed with your antics as you finally plopped down next to him, “aww c’mon Bruce! live a little! this Batcave is so depressing and need I say, dark?” you said, hearing the door jingle open. 

“great, the boys are here,” he murmured, realizing that introductions had to happen between you and his sons. Bruce had taken you in a few months ago, under the guise that you needed a better mentor, “you haven’t met them, right?” he asked. 

you shook your head no, “course I haven’t! it’s my first week in Gotham!” you exclaimed happily. you did hero work out of the west coast and happened to finally land in Gotham for the first time ever, “although I did run into Damian earlier in the week so I think he’ll recognize me!” 

Tim and Dick were the ones who walked in, conversing about some Gotham football game. you smiled at the two boys as they stopped dead in their tracks, “uh....Bruce, who is this?” Dick asked, pointing at you. you stood up, shaking their hands, “I’m ( your name )! Bruce’s new apprentice!” you explained. 

the two sighed, Dick’s first thought being if Alfred knew about you. Tim on the other hand didn’t exactly respond as quick. you were oddly excitable, not exactly the personality that ran rampant across the ‘family’, “apprentice or daughter?” Dick asked, a bit playfully. 

“she’s an apprentice. no need to adopt someone who’s already an adult,” he replied as he stood up himself, “she came from the west coast so she doesn’t exactly know her way around here. it’d be helpful if one of you showed her around. I don’t trust Jason or Damian enough,” he said, walking to another one of the computers. 

“Stephanie isn’t around?” Damian asked, walking inside of the cave, “she’s already acquainted with her and she isn’t available to do it right now so it’s up to Dick or you Tim,” Bruce repeated. Dick looked to his brother with his eyebrow lifted up, “well?” he asked Tim. 

the two of them went to look at you who was already not paying attention to what was going on. you were nose deep into a computer with music blaring inside of your headphones, “I swear that girl has ADHD or something,” Damian murmured to his brothers, “but I think Drake should do it! you just love getting to know people, don’t you?” Damian pressured. 

Bruce nodded in agreement, “it’s settled, you’re showing her around!” Tim stared at Damian, ready to attack the gremlin with his bare hands, “appreciate it Tim!” you yelled from your seat, surprising the three who thought you couldn’t hear what they were saying. 

+

it was already a few months into your internship with the Batfamily. you had gotten closer with Jason, Stephanie, and because of your relationship with Dick, you befriended Starfire as well. even though your work was constantly surrounding you around Tim, you weren’t around him much unless it had to do with work. 

“where you heading off too?” Jason asked, seeing you all dressed up, “Star, Barbara, and Steph wanted to go out for the night since we aren’t on duty so we’re going to get drinks up the street,” you told him. he nodded, looking to Tim and seeing the way he was checking you out, “why do you go with them, Tim?” he asked. 

Tim looked at Jason with a bewildered expression, “why would I be the only guy in the group?” he asked sarcastically. you on the other hand jumped up in joy, “you should!” you exclaimed, “come on! it would be amazing! you know you want too!” you poked Tim’s side in anticipation. 

he sighed, slipping a bit on the couch, “fine,” he muttered, making you excited all over again. you gave him a few minutes to get himself together, “you know he likes you, right?” Jason told you. you laughed out of genuine shock, “who? Tim? yeah right!” you let out another laugh, not believing he was lying to your face, “fine, don’t believe me but it’s pretty obvious.” 

you couldn’t say much else as Tim walked out, hair restyled and threw on a different jacket, “ready?” he asked, hands deep in his pockets. you nodded, throwing Jason a scrap piece of paper before heading out the door as Dick walked inside, “meeting the girls?” he asked. 

“yeah and I’m taking your brother as a hostage,” Dick was surprised, “did you finally?” he started to ask before Tim screamed at him to shut up, “how about we leave,” Tim told you, discreetly hitting Dick on the back of his leg as retaliation. 

the two of you walked out as you told Tim that the place you usually went out with the girls was in walking distance, “I think they’re going to be surprised you even decided to leave your apartment,” you joked as he rolled his eyes playfully, “I don’t think they’ll mind. at least Stephanie can stop saying that I never go out,” he said. 

you laughed softly, “yeah you might be going out with a bunch of girls but it sure beats being stuck inside playing video games or doing work,” you replied, “yeah, guess your right,” you two walked inside of the restaurant, already seeing Steph, Starfire, and Barbara sitting at the usual table. 

the three girls had their mouth hanging as they saw you walking in with Tim, “he actually came out?” Barbara screamed, not believing Tim was actually out, “yeah, figured it was better than staying in for the night!” you said excitedly. 

“I couldn’t even get him to come out with me at times and I dated him,” Steph murmured under her breath to Star. she laughed as you pulled chairs for you and Tim, “I’m getting first round of shots!” you told the group excitedly. Star and Barbara had followed you to the bar, leaving Steph and Tim in a small awkward silence 

“you like her don’t you?” she asked. Tim nodded, figuring it was better to just tell the truth than to lie, “that’s cute! she’s a great girl. I’m happy you finally found someone else but I will say one thing, I think you better get a move on with your feels with her because I know a few others who have an interest in her and one might be on your team,” she said, not so subtly hinting at Connor. 

Tim was taken back by what Stephanie was telling her but remained silent, “and I think she’d say yes on Connor so you better be quick,” she laughed, seeing Tim’s slightly jealous eyes. you returned to the table, giving everyone their glass as you raised yours in the air, “to Tim! for actually leaving his house for once!” you screamed as they all raised their glass and took the shot down.

throughout the night, Tim saw the way you were singing and dancing with Steph and Star, your terrible drunk singing voice getting louder as they played ‘poker face’ by lady gaga towards the end of the night. 

+

you stared at Riddler, seeing that he was ready to attack Tim with full intentions to kill him. you debated for a moment, saving a few civilians from getting mildly hurt or seeing your boyfriend get killed? you chose the latter and ran to Tim who was not paying attention in the slightest at what Riddler was doing. 

“Red!” you screamed, your feet moving as fast as they could and pushing him out of the way. you felt the slice of the knife into your stomach as you had successfully pushed Tim to safety, “fuck,” you whispered, seeing the blood already pooling underneath you. 

although you getting hurt was already pre-planned, you had no intentions of getting hurt this badly, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” you continued, trying to grab your cape to stop the bleeding, Tim stared down at you, seeing the blood gushing at a rate too dangerous for his liking, “hold on, please hold on!” he screamed, moving you out of harms way. 

Bruce had saw you giving him the signal, weakly but you still gave it to him. it was your only chance for your pre-planned mission to actually succeed and the start of that plan was to make you die in front of everyone. Bruce had swung down from the stairs, seeing the way your eyes closed. 

“she needs to go to the hospital,” he told Tim, making him rush you to the hospital himself. he knew this was the only time he would be able to say his goodbyes to you and he need to make it count, “go now!” he yelled. 

Tim dragged your almost lifeless body to the nearest hospital, screaming at the staff that you needed help immediately. the nurses grabbed your body, hauling it to the OR as Tim sat there, blood all over his uniform as he watched you get wheeled into the hallway. 

it felt like hours by the time they gave an update to all of them. Bruce, Tim, Dick, Jason, Steph, Barbara, and Damian, were sitting in the waiting area, munching on food nervously as the nurse came out of the hallway, eyes bleary with tears. 

“she didn’t make it out of surgery. she passed.” 

all of them (for the exception of Bruce), immediately bursted into tears. Tim more than anyone had fell to the ground, having no control of his body as he screamed that it couldn’t be true and that you weren’t actually gone. a part of Bruce’s heart broke seeing his son having a mental breakdown but he knew for their safety and yours, he couldn’t say a word. 

the following days were left to plan your funeral as the nurses who relied your wishes stated that you wanted a closed casket for no one, not even Tim, to see your dead body. Tim hadn’t spoken a word to anyone as he only spoke up when it came for him to plan your arrangements. 

they buried your casket with your uniform laying on top of it as they all saw your casket get lower and lower to the ground. Tim was by this point sobbing as he couldn’t have cared who saw and who didn’t. 

+

Dick grabbed Damian, moving themselves to another part of the room as you walked slowly to Tim. he had yet to say anything but as soon as you locked eyes with him, you both let out sobs to each other. Tim grabbed you by the arms, bringing you into a hug as he sobbed into your shoulders. 

“what the fuck is going on?” he yelled, not knowing what to say, “I’m alive Timmy. I didn’t die that night,” you practically sobbed back to him. he released you, now anger and sadness crossing over him, “what the fuck do you mean you didn’t die?” he screamed, scaring Dick and Damian in the process. 

you sat on the ground, trying to compose yourself, “I went on an undercover mission for league. I had to die in order to protect not only myself but all of you and the entire league. which explains why I look different,” you murmured the last part. 

“I thought you were dead. for years, I thought you were dead! and I hate that I still love you and never moved on!” he exclaimed, seeing the way you stared at him heartbrokenly, “you think I wanted this to happen? it was for the betterment of the league if I took on this mission. I never wanted to leave you or Steph, hell I didn’t want to leave any of you but I had too! it broke my heart knowing what I had to do!” you yelled back. 

Tim bent down, taking you into his arms, “what the hell are we going to do?” he whispered in your ear, not knowing how to respond to any of this rationally. you shrugged as the two of you tried to calm yourselves down from the hysterics you both were throwing, “I just need you here with me,” you whispered back. 

Tim nodded, not releasing you from the hug you were giving him. “I won’t. I won’t let you go! not anymore!” he replied. you laughed through your tears as you heard someone else walk into the room. 

“what the fuck.....” you heard Steph and Jason’s voice scream through the Batcave, “what the FUCK is going on?” they screamed in panic. 

hehehe a cliffhanger 

[okay-j-hannah]

Out Of Sight

Fantastic Beasts : Prompt

Theseus x Reader

Word Count: 1605

Warnings: Nothing but the shameless flirting of Theseus Scamander 😂

Request: “Could I possibly get a Theseus/reader fic using prompt 3? Preferably where he’s the one who is missing, maybe during a mission gone wrong and she’s talking to Newt? Fluff please. I dunno if my heart could take any angst. Thank you! 💙🌻💙” @the-glasses-are-my-disguise​

Prompt:

3. “He’s missing, not dead.”

A/N: You join Theseus and Newt on an undercover job, always the worrier when it came to Theseus’ safety as he tackled Auror investigations

The party was formal and overwhelming.

Dozens of couples in dresses and suits trailed lazily around the hall, drinks and nibbles being woven between them. The professional orchestra played a background tune, seemingly invisible as the people of power chatted.

(Y/N) stood, slightly uncomfortable in such a uniform of lace and silk and edged her gloved hand around Theseus’ arm. She was never one for these Auror missions, though being a devout partner she left her research desk and followed Theseus into the danger.

“How are you supposed to know who he is?”

Theseus raised a slender glass of champagne to his lips, muttering quietly, “He’ll be surrounded by the most powerful. He’ll be the one seemingly bored by the conversation but demanding their attention when he speaks.”

“I don’t like the look of this,” she whispered back, whipping her eyes about the grand hall, “There are too many people. It would be so easy to get lost.”

“Calm yourself, darling,” Theseus chuckled, “You’ll give away our position.”

(Y/N) immediately lowered her eyes, taking a deep breath. She must behave normally regardless of the panic she felt. Newt was not far behind, quietly observing and partaking of his own drink.

“These magical beast smugglers are not used to the skills of a dark wizard catcher,” Theseus stated rather proudly. “We’ll find them in the end.”

“Just because they’re not dark wizards doesn’t mean they’re not dangerous.”

Theseus covered her hand along his arm, “You have nothing to fear, my dear. This is simply a favor for Newt – I would have brought reinforcements if I thought there was any real danger.”

She looked up to find his eyes gazing down at her lovingly. He gave a small smile and kissed her brow.

“I don’t get out of the office much. Forgive me if I’m a little on edge,” though she was smiling when she said it. She couldn’t help it when he held her close like that, protective under his gentle grasp.

He chuckled low in his throat, “You look simply ravishing in that dress.”

She shook her head ever so slightly, instantly flustered by his shameless flirting. “You’re on the job, Theseus – keep your pants on.”

“You’re no fun,” he muttered, moving his hand to her back, trailing light fingers up her spine, “Can I not adore you while enjoying my champagne?”

She shivered, tickled, “I’m going to need you to think with your upstairs brain; we’re working a case.” Though she knew what he was doing – it was always a tactic of his whenever she was anxious. He wished to calm her down, wished to see her flustered or annoyed rather than panicked and afraid.

And it worked every time – she smiled – the worrisome fretting was replaced with a mingling sense of playfulness. Much more manageable and less likely to give them away.

He grinned as realization was coming to her, “You clever girl.” And he scanned the audience again, drinking the last of his glass and shoving a hand in his pocket.

Newt crept behind (Y/N), slightly slouched and upset by the couples flirting. “I don’t suppose you’ve spotted anything?”

“No, Newton, I’ve been too busy admiring my love in her dress.” This time round, Theseus shamelessly flirt to rouse a shameful blush to Newt’s cheeks.

“Don’t tease,” (Y/N) nudged him.

“Or rather,” Theseus narrowed, thrusting his empty glass into Newt’s free hand, “There might be something there near the stairs.”

(Y/N) craned her neck to see, clearly observing a group of enthusiastic conversationalists. The man within its center had a dull expression on his face, picking at his nails and seeming only mildly interested in what was being said.

“I’ll go have a look,” Theseus said, turning to (Y/N), “Be careful, and don’t let Newt sway you to the dance floor. There’s a reason he sticks to his mating dances.”

(Y/N) frowned, “You’re going alone?”

In response, Theseus took her hand and placed a gentle kiss to her knuckles, “I’ll be back before you know it.” And he pulled away, giving her a comforting smile.

He skillfully weaved himself through the crowd, being sure to place a dashing debonair smile on his face. (Y/N) watched him anxiously, the nerves returning with him out of her presence. Newt noticed, placing his empty champagne glasses on a footman’s tray.

“He’ll be all right. He’s Theseus.”

“That’s the problem,” (Y/N) muttered, struggling to keep her eyes on him in the swarm of people. “He is Theseus and Theseus does what he wants without regard to his own personal safety.”

“You and I definitely live with different Theseus’.”

(Y/N) laughed, hollow, “You lived with the schoolboy, I live with the Auror.”

“Fair enough,” Newt muttered, hiding his fidgeting hands in his coat pockets, “Though, I still don’t believe you have anything to worry about.”

It was enough good faith that she calmed somewhat. Newt and she found themselves growing bored with waiting around and spying Theseus being diplomatic with the suspected smugglers. They trailed the outside of the hall, admiring the sparing artwork and grabbing little sandwiches and toothpicked cheeses when they could. They found themselves at the side bar, grabbing a sip of mild fire whiskey and then stirring olives in old cocktails.

“Look at me scolding Theseus and then drinking on the job.”

Newt gave her a rare smile, “I knew Theseus could handle the task himself, but I think he enjoys seeing you out in public.”

She gave him a raised brow, “Oh?”

“I do believe he likes showing you off.”

That made her smirk, “Sounds like my Theseus.” She knew he would never say such things to her face for fear of making her bashful and regret going out. He always knew when to draw the line in his skillful flirtations.

“Speaking of Theseus,” Newt stated, noticing the crowds beginning to thin as people returned home for the night. “I’ve lost sight of him.”

(Y/N) whipped her head around, a sudden lead weight in her stomach. She looked to where she saw him last and saw nothing. This led her eyes to flicker around the rest of the hall, more frantic in her search. Yet she still could not see him.

She moved away from the bar, moving slowly but her eyes whirring about the space. The longer she looked the faster her breath seemed to leave her. It was harder to focus, her mind only jumping to the worst conclusions as to why she couldn’t see him anymore. All notions that he’d be fine were out the window.

There were goosebumps on her arms as she moved farther into the thinning crowds. She was beginning to frantically search, bumping into people and asking to see peoples faces. She stumbled as she went undeterred by the stares of offense.

Newt tried to catch her while spying about. He did not feel the same sense of panic, perhaps because he had known Theseus longer. When he managed to grab her arm, he said, “There’s no need to go shouting about.”

She hadn’t even realized she’d started saying Theseus’ name aloud, “I don’t see him. I don’t know where he is.” There was a burning on the backs of her eyes, “These smugglers were dangerous, yes?”

Newt was taken aback by the look on her face, “Only dangerous to the magical beasts they pawn – I don’t think they’d be so ruthless to wizards.”

She took another shaky breath, “I still don’t see him. Where would he go? Why wouldn’t he tell us? What if something happened to him?”

“(Y/N), he’s missing, not dead.” Newt placed his hands on her shoulders, “You need to calm yourself. No good is going to come from your panic. “

He was right. She finally took a deep breath and nodded, “I just get so worried about him. He’s always out here risking his neck and I couldn’t stand not seeing him ever again. Sometimes when he leaves out the door I wonder if he’ll come home – and it terrifies me.”

“I wish I didn’t make you feel that way.” His voice was gentle and sweet. And when she turned to face him, he felt his own throat bob slightly, “Darling, you worry too much.”

“Theseus,” she whispered, falling directly into his arms, “You scared me half to death.”

He wrapped himself around her, rubbing her chilled back, “I told you I’d be back. I always come back.”

“I couldn’t see you – you disappeared.” That burning pricking her eyes turned them glassy as she hugged him close. “I assumed the worst.”

Theseus sighed, pulling back and cupping her face, “You may be a clever girl, but you go positively rampant as soon as I’m out of your eyeline. Do you really doubt my capabilities as an Auror?”

She pouted, lowering her eyes, “No, of course not. It’s those you fight that I don’t trust. One of these days they’ll pull a fast one on you.”

He gave her a look of longing before kissing her forehead, “I’m all right and you don’t need to worry – that’s what matters.” His fingers were warm and loving where they traced her arms, pulling her into another hug.

“I couldn’t possibly let anything happen to myself because who would be there to calm you?”

(Y/N) sighed, comfort flowing through her.

In return, Theseus trailed a hand up her back to hold her head against his chest, “I’m sorry I frightened you.”

“I’m sorry I panicked.”

Newt grumbled, “I’m sorry, but what about the smugglers?”

Theseus’ chest rumbled with laughter; it bounced against (Y/N)’s cheek, “I see you didn’t share the same worry, Newton.”

~~~

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[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

WPP - Kenny (We’re The Millers)

This has been sitting in my drafts for months and I was struggling to finish it, but, a bright light ascended from the heavens, in the form of an angel, and that angel’s name is @gladerscake

Big thanks to them for helping me out and finishing this imagine. Go follow them and give all the love and support you can muster!

~~~~~~~~~~

Being in the witness protection program was...interesting.

It definitely was not what you were expecting, but then again, you didn’t know helping out a person you cared about would get you involved in a murder, yet here you are.

You had to leave everything behind, not that you had that much of a life to begin with, but it was comfortable. Now, everything was different. New home in a new state, even a new last name. Thankfully, you got to keep your first name, you were grateful for that at least.

You were surprised to find the most annoying thing was the neighbourhood that the program placed you in. It’s like it was made for Mormons or something, your neighbours were too nice, at least the house to the right of yours. You didn’t really know who lived in the house to the left, working from home had the benefit of never going outside and the only reason you knew who lived to your right was cause those neighbours were the type of people to introduce themselves.

Yuck.

But still, you couldn’t help but be a little curious.

You did know, however, that they had only recently moved in since the one morning truck woke up before your alarm rang that morning. You were grouchy the rest of the day, thus you’ve been slightly petty towards your “new” neighbours since then. You definitely needed to work on your attitude...one day.

After being inside your house for more than a week, you decided you wanted some vitamin D, which you rarely ever did so you must’ve been seriously deprived.

You walked out of the door leading to the backyard with a book in hand, frowning when you saw how overgrown the grass was from your laziness. You told yourself you’d do it later, and by later you meant you would mow your yard when you started to hate yourself enough to the point where you felt too guilty leaving it alone.

You huffed as you sat in one of your lawn chairs that you bought when you moved in, lying to yourself that you were going to spend more time outside when you knew you wouldn’t. A first for everything, you supposed.

A few chapters in, you heard a door open and shut in your neighbour’s backyard, but you thought nothing of it, almost too entranced in your book.

You smiled to yourself when you started to hear 1990s R&B playing softly, not your cup of tea but you enjoyed it occasionally. Don’t Go Chasing Waterfalls had just started playing when you heard the neighbour’s back door slammed. “Dude, turn that shit off! You’ve been playing that song constantly and I’m actually getting sick of it. God.” You heard an angsty female voice.

Oh no...you lived next a family.

“Hey!”

You flinched, noticing a blonde girl was talking you. “Uh, hey?” You slowly closed your book, reluctantly walking over to the fence separating the backyards when the girl motioned you over.

“Haven’t seen you around before, just move in?” She asked, smirking slightly, looking you up and down.

You mocked her smirk, not liking the almost condescending look she was giving you. “No, been here for awhile. That’s how I know you’ve only just moved in a few weeks ago.”

The girl’s smirk only grew. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N. Yours?”

“Casey, and that loser is Kenny.” She pointed to the table behind her, seeing a blonde boy sitting somewhat dejectedly in one of the chairs fiddling with a small CD player. “Hey, TLC, get over here!” The boy looked to Casey with a panicked expression, visibly looking like he wasn’t sure if the girl meant it or not. She rolled her eyes, “Come on, dude!”

The boy nodded, frantically walking away to join Casey at the fence. “Hey.” He stuttered, blushing when he noticed your eyes on him.

Casey rolled her eyes yet again. “Yeah, this is Kenny.”

Kenny waved quite adorably, giving you a tight lipped smile. “Did you just move in?”

“No, I-”

“We’ve already had this talk, she’s been here longer than we have.” Casey interrupted, making your blood boil a little bit, her attitude almost worse than yours.

Kenny frowned slightly, but covered it up with a smile. “Oh.”

“Yep. We’ve already become besties.” You said sarcastically, grinning widely, making Kenny genuinely smile a little.

“Kids!” A middle aged man with a stupid haircut, to you anyway, walked over with hesitant look on his face. “Who’s this?”

“Y/N, your neighbour that’s lived here longer than you have. Saved you the trouble of telling him yourself, Casey.” You sneered.

“Oh. Well, I’m David and we’re the Millers! My wife, Sarah, is at the market right now, but I’m sure she’d be glad to meet you sometime.” He smiled widely, making you uncomfortable.

“Uh, dad, chill out. You’re gonna scare away the only girl I find suitable to be friends with in this shit neighbourhood.” Casey whispered harshly.

You didn’t really want to be friends with Casey, you never really got along with girls. Clearly, reading outside was a bad choice...

“Ha ha, if you sass me one more time today, you will be grounded young lady.” David forced another smile.

“Uh, Dad...”

“Shut up, Kenny.”

You quickly realized where the Kenny kid was in the family food chain. It was a shame, the dude was pretty easy on the eyes and seemed nice from what you’ve seen. “Look, I’m just gonna go. Nice meeting you fine folks...” You waved awkwardly, turning around and practically speed walking inside your house.

Well, that was fun...never going outside ever again.

The overall encounter put you in a sour mood, so when the doorbell rang you prayed to god that it wasn’t the yearly check in with law enforcement cause you’d probably get yourself in trouble with that attitude of yours.

You were mildly shocked to see that awkward Kenny guy outside your door, his eyes trained on his feet before you opened the door. “Kenny Miller, right?”

“Uh...yeah, Miller. Uh, I just want to apologize for my, uh, family’s behavior. They don’t have the best of manners, but they’re good people, I swear!” He ranted at such a quick pace that it almost flew right over your head. “So, yeah, sorry.”

You chuckled at his nervousness. “You don’t have to be sorry, especially on the behalf of your family. They don’t seem like the type to appreciate it anyway.”

His eyes widened, holding up his hands and shaking his head. “No, no, no, it’s not like that! They, uh, appreciate me.” You kept your mouth shut, giving him a sympathetic look with a soft smile. He sighed. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

“To me, it is. I’ve been in that situation before, so it’s not that hard to notice.”

“Oh...well, they can be nice sometimes I guess.”

“I hope so. Well, it was nice to meet you, Kenny.” You stuck your hand out, smiling when he hesitated but shook your outstretched hand gently.

A week later, you and Kenny actually became friends despite the two of you being almost complete opposites. He was able to poke through your cynical exterior, which was extremely rare for someone to do. He made you laugh, smile, and actually enjoy life when you were with him. You didn’t like it at first, but his adorkable personality won you over.

Kenny was more than overjoyed, he finally had a friend, not one out of pity anyway. The first time you two had hung out, he came “home” with a huge grin on his face. Of course, Casey had to tease him about it all the time.

“I still don’t understand how she can be friends with that loser and not me!” Casey ranted. “It doesn’t make sense!”

“Casey, stop calling Kenny a loser, please.” Sarah sighed, tapping away on her keyboard.

As soon as Sarah said that, Kenny walked through the door with another grin on his face. “Hey, Ma!”

“You don’t have to call me that here, hon.” Sarah voiced, shutting her laptop and walking out of the kitchen, but she smiled to herself.

“Pop your cherry yet?” Casey smirked evilly.

Kenny immediately blushed. “I told you, we’re just friends...”

She rolled her eyes. “You obviously want to be more than just friends with her. You should just ask her out and get it over with.”

“But...Melissa...”

Casey huffed loudly. “Dude, I already told you, she’s probably moved on by now. She was a total babe, she can and probably has done way better than you.”

“Hey...” Kenny frowned, to which Casey just shrugged, her eyes training back to her phone. He sighed as he sat down across from his “sister.” “I do like her...but I don’t know how to bring it up. I’m awful at talking to girls about...that kind of stuff.”

Casey snorted. “Yeah, no kidding.” But she dropped her amused smirk when she saw Kenny glaring. “Sorry, sorry.” She sassed. “I mean, it did work out with the ginger to be fair, but we have to stay in this shithole until further notice. But I really do think you should shoot your shot with what’s her name.”

Kenny rolled his eyes. “Y/N.”

“Yeah, whatever. Just-”

“That girl is bad news.” David suddenly voiced, walking into the kitchen.

“What do you mean by that?” Casey asked.

“Uh, hello? Pay attention to your surroundings instead of that stupid phone of yours to see that we are in witness protection. We can’t trust any of these creepy neighbours.”

“Uh, I think you’re a tad bit paranoid, father dearest.”

“Y/N’s really cool though!” Kenny expressed.

David rolled his eyes. “But we don’t really know her, we don’t know if she’s a snitch or something.”

Casey laughed. “Wow, you really are paranoid, dude.”

“Ha ha, very funny, just go to your room and listen to your Metallicas and AC/DCs.”

Casey’s face contorted into a disgusted scowl. “I don’t listen to that garbage.”

“Shut up.” David simply replied, making Casey stand up and storm out of the room and up the stairs. “Look, Ken, I get you like this girl, but you need to be careful. Don’t say things you shouldn’t and all that. You have a tendency to not know when to shut your mouth. So, don’t do that, kay?”

Kenny nodded curtly, avoiding David’s eyes as he felt his face heat up in slight anger. He knew he had some...issues with keeping his mouth shut about things that should be kept a secret, but he grew up, right? He’s not as naïve as he was before they went to Mexico, but his “family” still treated him like he was five. Plus, he knew you weren’t the type to be a snitch.

While Kenny was dealing with feeling underappreciated, you were having your own set of issues to handle. Today was the day for a check up with law enforcement to make sure you were on your best behavior. You always were, but it still made you anxious to no end. And you prayed that Kenny wouldn’t rush in to your house like he got into the habit of doing when you were interrogated.

Of course, that didn’t happen. 

“For fuck’s sake...” You muttered under your breath when you saw Kenny’s shocked and scared face when he saw you sitting with a couple local police officers.

On your end, it just looked like he was scared of police officers. But Kenny’s mind immediately went haywire, thinking that you called them over to investigate them even though the police were already informed of “the Millers” situation. 

“Kenny, now’s not a good time.” You sighed.

“No, no, it’s okay.” The police officer in front of you said. “We’re done here anyway.” He walked out of your house with his partner, leaving you and Kenny in an awkward silence.

“What was that all about?” Kenny asked, not being able to control the bitter tone in his voice. “Did you think we’re that bad or something?”

“Kenny, I-”

“We’ve been doing really well here!” Kenny interrupted. “No problems with anybody, been on our best behavior.”

“Kenny.”

“I don’t wanna go to jail. I can’t go to jail. We’ve only been here for a couple months.”

“Kenny, stop!” You finally yelled, losing your temper. “They were here to check up on me, for fuck’s sake.”

Kenny’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but still had a slight expression of panic. “Here for you? B-But-”

“I’m in witness protection, you dweeb, same as you.”

“Oh...Wait, how did you know I’m in witness protection?”

“Your family,” You finger quoted, “looks nothing like you. All of you don’t look anything alike. How paranoid and secretive that David is, it wasn’t too hard to put things together. You rambling off like an absolute moron a minute ago just reaffirmed my theory.”

Kenny frowned. “Dang, I thought I had worked on that.”

You smiled slightly. “It’s alright, Ken. I’m no snitch, and I’m not very judgmental about someone’s past. What did you even do though? You’re definitely not the type to break the law.” You chuckled.

“Oh, well, we kinda smuggled some drugs across the Mexican border.” He stuttered.

“Holy shit, dude! That’s sick! What was it? Was it coke?” You grinned, eager to learn.

Kenny blinked at your excitement, but obliged to all your questions, sitting down next to you. “No, it was marijuana.”

Your face slightly dropped in excitement. “Oh. I really think weed should be legal. It’s stupid, it’s not even a hard drug.”

“Well, we’re lucky we even made it out alive. But what did you go through to get yourself here?”

Now, you definitely didn’t judge past crimes of others, if they’ve atoned for it and changed that is, but you had no idea if Kenny would judge you. You actually found yourself not wanting him to look at you in a different light, and you’ve never felt that way before. 

Kenny seemed perfectly sweet, almost too sweet to judge anyone, but on the other hand...the stuff that had landed you in the program was definitely heavier than some weed smuggling. 

Maybe it would be too much for him. Maybe it would be best to just make something up, something less horrible, something he wouldn’t be too shocked by.  As tempting as that route felt, the idea of lying to him weirdly didn’t sit well with you, though. 

Kenny was quick to notice the lengthy pause that followed his question, as well as the way your shoulders tensed and your eyes averted to the parquet floor. Oh no. Had he pried into something too personal? Was he an idiot for asking?

“Oh, um...you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to!” Kenny hurried to assure you, slight panic beginning to etch his bluish-green eyes, his fists clenching and unclenching involuntarily. “I was just curious, is all! I’m sorry if it’s too persona-“ 

“It’s okay!” To his surprise, you pulled on a tight-lipped smile, giving him a look as nonchalant as you could manage at the moment. “Really, you don’t have to apologize for asking. Plus, you already told me about your thing, so...” You trailed off, softly, wondering how to proceed. 

As much as you resented the thought of Kenny seeing you differently, you decided even that unpleasant outcome would still be better than lying to him. You’d rather not. You liked Kenny. Despite not having spent a tremendous amount of time together, you could tell he was a genuinely good person, and you definitely enjoyed his company. Not to mention, it would be a blatant lie if you said you weren’t at all attracted to him. 

Casey may have spent most of their interactions calling him a “loser” in some form or another, but you couldn’t be farther away from agreeing with her. A part of you was positively annoyed with the way she treated him. Then again, taste is subjective. It wasn’t Casey’s fault if she didn’t have a good sense of it. 

With a deep intake of air, you nervously flipped a loose strand of hair over your shoulder, still avoiding direct eye-contact with Kenny. “I, uh...It’s a rough one, really. And kind of a long story. I wouldn’t wanna dump something like that on you, if you’d rather not hear it” 

He tentatively pursed his plump lips, but nonetheless nodded for you to keep going. “I’m sure I can handle it! Whatever it is, I’m not gonna judge you, Y/N. I promise!” 

Promise, huh? Guess you were going to have to see about that. 

Trying to ignore the rapidly increasing pace of your heart and slight tremble in your fingers, you began your story. 

You didn’t want to go into too much detail, for the fear of oversharing, but you did tell him as much as you felt you could. About how you used to have a friend...a pretty close friend, who you cared about a great deal, who had always been kind and generous, alas, a bit of a troublemaker.

About how she had fallen in with the wrong crowd, something you admittedly failed to see coming. How that crowd turned out to be a notoriously vicious gang that had it out for some other poor girl, who had apparently slept with one of the gang leaders’ boyfriend without realizing it. 

How that gang, your friend included, lured her onto a rooftop to “fuck with her” and “teach her a lesson.” Only that night, they went too far and ended up pushing her off. The girl died instantly, and due to the heaping pile of evidence, it wasn’t a particularly long investigation. Almost everyone involved were arrested shortly after, and you, having been brought in as one of the witnesses, had a choice whether you wanted to testify against your friend or not. 

At first you weren’t sure if you wanted to do that and make matters worse for her. However, after some much-needed reflection and consideration, you decided it would be the right thing to do. Someone had died, and your friend played a part in it. You couldn’t turn a blind eye to something that big simply because you two were close. 

Your friend was put away, along with several other gang members. Still, quite a few of them were still out there, and they definitely seemed like the type to hold serious grudges. You were no longer safe at your former home, and now...well, there you where. 

Kenny listened intently all the while, not once daring to interrupt, not even to ask a question. By the way your breathing had hitched and your lips had stuttered at certain parts, he could tell how hard that must’ve been for you to go through in the first place, and how unsettling it was for you to revisit those moments in order to share your story with him. 

You didn’t notice, but as you were nearing the end, Kenny had inched to sit closer to you, his large hand carefully landing on your shoulder with a soft but warm-hearted squeeze. He had briefly hesitated in making that move, but the need to offer you comfort and reassurance overpowered his nervousness. His only hope was that you wouldn’t flinch at his touch, and so he felt a huge wave of relief wash over him when you did no such thing. 

“So...that’s about it. Sorry, I know it’s a fucking bummer story, compared to your weed smuggling adventure.” You attempted a chuckle, only it came out as more of a sad scoff. 

Your heart was still pounding and you were still reluctant to look up at him. Although, as you finally noticed Kenny’s warm hand gently squeezing your shoulder, you felt a soothing brush of comfort spread through your limbs, and you couldn’t deny how nice it felt. 

“Whoa...that’s...I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” Kenny frowned, unsure of what the right thing to say could be. 

“It’s okay, really. I’ve had some time to process it and move on. Well...not completely, but I’d say I’m doing much better now.” 

Kenny went silent for a minute, clearly still digesting the information, and the worries you had about him looking at you differently came back in full force. You opened your mouth to ask him about it, but he beat you by a millisecond, speaking first. “Why...why were you so nervous about telling me?” 

So he had noticed. Figures. The art of the poker face wasn’t something you’d ever truly mastered. It sometimes annoyed you how easy your anxious state was to spot, but there wasn’t much you could do about that. 

“I don’t know, I...I guess I didn’t want you to see me as a snitch or judge me-“

“Judge you?” Kenny interrupted, sounding confused about the mere insinuation. “For what, not sticking up for your friend when she had got herself involved in a murder?” 

“I mean, she was still my friend, so...” 

“So what? That doesn’t change the fact that she got in the middle of something so horrible, that could’ve been avoided, if she had paid more attention to who she hung around.” 

You couldn’t say you had expected that. It was almost weird hearing Kenny talk that way, but you were definitely relieved to hear where he so firmly stood in regards to the whole “judging you” idea. 

You bit your bottom lip in agitation as a thought you had been wrestling with for a while creeped its way into your mind again. “Sometimes I feel like maybe I could’ve done something...could’ve checked up on her more or somehow stopped her from hanging out with them...maybe I could’ve kept her from having anything to do with it.” Your voice grew quieter, sounding barely above a whisper as guilt flashed through your eyes, your muscles tensing, uneasily, at the thought. Kenny was immediately closer, his arm wrapping around you, as if trying to shelter you from your own thoughts. 

“Come on, don’t do that to yourself, Y/N. You can’t control the actions of others, not even your friends. Least of all your friends, probably.” 

You allowed a small smile to touch the corner of your lips as you instinctively leaned into Kenny, his closeness calming you, his soft reassurances shushing the self-deprecating thoughts he could sense looming over you. 

“Yeah, you’re right, I guess. I just try not to think about it often, it really sucks diving into that stuff.” 

“Of course it sucks. I just hope you know that none of it was even a little bit your fault. From what I can tell after spending some time with you...you’re a really good person, Y/N.” 

You looked up at him, noting the way your faces were only a few inches apart by that point. The close proximity brought a rosy tinge to your cheeks. “You think so?” 

“I do! Why wouldn’t I? You’re smart, you’re funny when you want to be, you’re great to be around, and heck, you’re one of the very few people I know who doesn’t make me feel like I’m constantly doing something wrong.” 

Hearing that made you simultaneously happy and sad. With the way Kenny’s “family” treated him almost around the clock, it was no wonder he felt that way. You wished he didn’t have to. You believed someone as wonderful as him deserved so much better. If only he had at least one person close to him who would tell him how much better he was than most guys out there, how anyone should be lucky to call him a friend... or maybe more than just a friend. 

In that moment, you found yourself thinking what it would be like if you were that person. You imagined it would feel the same way it always did when you were around Kenny, only better. In all honesty, you couldn’t find a single reason not to try. What harm was there in trying? Oh, that’s right...something could go badly wrong, and then whatever friendship you had with him would be in shambles.

That’s what the pessimistic side of you thought about it. But the other side, the more hopeful and affectionate side, had other ideas. 

Even though you and Kenny were brought into the witness protection program by very different circumstances, you were still in it together. You didn’t have to hide your true identities or your past, at least not from each other. That had to count for something, right? 

While you were taking a second to collect your thoughts, Kenny was facing some inner turmoil of his own. With the newfound closeness of the two of you, his cheeks were positively crimson, his pulse quickening, heart thumping against his rib cage. Any doubts he’d had about whether or not he wanted to ask you out had vanished - he absolutely wanted to do that. But how? When? Would now be a good time? He wasn’t sure. Yet, he was very aware of the fact that if he were to lean in just a little bit closer, he could just kiss you right then and there... 

Kenny briefly remembered David’s “count to three” method, but for some reason it didn’t feel right to use. Not with you, not like that. All he wanted was to just go with the feeling, and that feeling was beckoning him to your lips. 

Oh, screw it. If you were to push him away, so be it. He would probably die a little inside and never attempt to do anything like that ever again, but at least he would know your immediate answer. 

“Kenny...?” 

Your soft questioning voice reached his ears as his gaze trailed over your delicate face, taking in every feature, and with a soft but resolute breath, he leaned in. 

Your eyes went wide when Kenny’s lips landed on yours. You froze for a second, not knowing what to do. Luckily, your instantly skipping heart gave you the hint you needed to flutter your eyes closed and melt into it. 

He kissed you so gently, so carefully, but not like he was afraid of scaring you away. More like he wanted you feel completely safe and give you every chance to stop it the second you wanted to. 

You didn’t. 

Instead, you wrapped an arm around his neck, your fingertips brushing the ends of his short sandy hair, your lips moving seamlessly and warmly against his own.

Kenny couldn’t believe you were actually kissing him back, but damn, he was thrilled that you were. He felt the affection in him surge as the softness of your lips put his mind in a haze. His hand timidly slid down to your waist, bringing you closer to him, and you willingly went, deepening the kiss as you did. 

After a few blissful moments you finally broke away from his lips, your noses nearly brushing each other as you looked up at him through glimmering eyes. “I was almost convinced I would have to do that myself...” 

Kenny breathed a soft chuckle, not taking his gaze off of yours. “To be honest, so was I...” 

You grinned at his burning cheeks, releasing a light chuckle of your own before reconnecting your lips for another kiss, swallowing the muted grunt that rumbled from Kenny’s throat. 

Things were going to get better now. For both of you, you were sure of it. Kenny was finally going to have someone who would show him what it’s like to be truly wanted and appreciated, and you were going to have someone who wouldn’t dream of hurting you and who you knew would always do his best to understand you, give you everything he could give. 

Maybe this whole witness protection program thing wouldn’t be such a tedious affair, after all.

~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks again for helping me @gladerscake​ , you’re the sweetest ❤