#wish they had put more of rags and the kittys :(

[msmimundo]

Guys The Garfield show aint that bad once you squint and get used to it I prommy

[hxzbinwrites]

Hi! 👋

I just read your Vox soulmate AU and I LOVED it. If you're still taking requests, could you do something similar with Husk but his soulmate has powers like scarlet witch. His soulmate is very protective and sweet on the winged kitty. Maybe throw in a kiss or two 😘.

If not, it's cool. Keep up the great work and can't wait to read more!

Husk x Soulmate! Reader | Saving Me

Warnings ⚠️: Cussing, Short :(

Sighing, Husk watched as Charlie and Vaggie cuddled together on the couch in the lobby. After everything, the lies and heartbreak, they still were okay. They still loved each other.

Husk has had his soulmate string for a while now, but Alastor prevented him from leaving to go chase it. It was worse than not having one at all, seeing that stupid string tug and beg for him to find his match, his other half.

His tired eyes looked down at his cup, his rag scrubbing the inside of it. He really wished that stupid damn deer would kick the bucket already.

“Husk!” Charlie said, looking over at the grouchy cat.

He raised an eyebrow, looking up at the Princess from under his eyelashes.

“Now that the hotel is revamped, do you think you could put some of these flyers out? Especially because it’s rent free!”

“I guess.” He said, taking the flyers.

————

When everyone was having dinner together, a strong knock on the door was heard.

Charlie sprinted over to the door, excited to meet a potential new client of their hotel.

The door revealed a woman standing there, an Halloween-like Witch costume on her.

“I’m here for this…’Hazbin Hotel’” She said, extending a hand to Charlie,”My name is (Y/n), I’m a witch. I was as well when I was alive, hence the costume I fell down with. I think it’s cute nonetheless.”

Charlie’s squeals of excitement alerted everyone at the dinner table. Mostly everyone was walking over to investigate, except for Husk. He sat there at the table, uninterested. Last thing he needs is some other annoying person pestering him, he’s got his paws full with Alastor’s bullshit and Angel’s hormones.

He ignored the crowd as they went to go show the newbie their room, walking back towards the bar to wash the remaining dirty cups.

“Husker~!” Alastor said, popping up out of thin air like the freak he is

Husk’s ears were pinned back against his head, his frown evident. “What?”

“You haven’t welcomed our guest!” He said, his head tilting menacingly. “I think you should.”

Husk, running a paw through his fluffy fur on the top of his head, sighed. “I gotta finish my job here first. You made me come here, you bastard.”

“Hmm.” Alastor said, glaring at him over his shoulder,”Alright! Just make sure you treat them well, you’re still on a leash, pet.”

Husk didn’t reply, just focusing on his job as Alastor met the rest of the crew at the end of the tour.

Husk looked up at the newbie, immediately dropping the class, letting it shatter on the ground.

“Husk!” Charlie said,”are you okay?!”

He didn’t reply, looking into his soulmates eyes. Finally, he finally found them. He could cry like a baby right now. He quickly walked around the counter of the bar, drowning out everyone’s concerned comments.

Everyone stopped talking when he stopped right in front of the newbie, before dipping them and kissing them deeply. Husk felt like he couldn’t bring them any closer, that nothing was close enough.

Gasping for air, he finally broke it off, smiling down at the flustered witch.

“Husk! What the hell?!” Vaggie said, scowling,”you can’t just do that! That’s assault!!”

“No…no it’s okay” (Y/n) said,”I-I found my soulmate. He’s a cute, grumpy kitty.”

Husk rolled his eyes at that last comment, before he looked over at Alastor.

He was fuming, the radio demon was clutching his staff so hard it could’ve snapped.

“Husker. I told you not to find your soulmate. It’s in your contract.”

“Well I technically found him” (Y/n) said, putting her hands on the cat’s chest. Husk knew the situation with the man who owned his soul and his soulmate was extremely serious, but he was fighting the urge not to purr.

Alastor pondered for a moment, before pulling up the contract again. He scanned over it before the witch snatched it from his grasp.

“Sorry, ‘Radio Demon’” She said, in a mocking tone,”Since our string faded away, and your ‘client’ didn’t seek me out, he didn’t go against your agreement. I own his soul now, and he owns mine. He’s no longer in your possession.”

Alastor’s smile was so tight his teeth could crack, seeing the contract rip up and Husk’s chains fizzle away.

“So? Husk was it?” (Y/n) said, grabbing his paws,”I think we have some catching up to do.”

“I agree.” Husk said, planting a light kiss on top of her forehead.

“Sorry I didn’t seek you out earlier” She said, “I-I thought you didn’t want to meet me, but I now know the truth.”

“Thank you love, thank you for saving me.”

————

Word Count: I’m lazy i’ll put it later 💀

[wonik1ss]

always by my side — sn.o

pairing : sunoo x reader

song rec : heather - conan gray

warning : very very very sad 😞

It had been a week since your boyfriend broke up with you.. and 5 days since you shut out Sunoo out of your life. You sat head in your arms underneath your door crying. You never realized it then but Sunoo had always been there.

When you and your boyfriend got together

When you both started to get into fights

And worst of all when you broke up..

You just wish you cared for him more then.. because he was always there do you but you seemed to never be there for him..

-

“ Sunoo Sunoo! He said yes! “. You yelled as you ran into Sunoo’s room as he looked up from his biology homework.

“ That’s great Y/n “. You jumped onto him straddling his lap as you got your head comfortably in his neck, the poor boy sat there as you cuddle with him like he was sort of rag doll. As he continued to do his work you bragged about your newfound relationship.

“ His hair and ears and lips are just so prefect!! I’m so lucky to have him! “. Sunoo nodded as you got your head from his neck and put your hands on his cheeks.

“ I can’t believe he said yes.. since her seemed to always roll his eyes when I tried to approach him before.. “. Sunoo’s eyes darted away from his paper to yours.

“ Don’t you think that’s a kitty suspic- “

“ Stop being jealous sunny.. I doesn’t look good on you “. You said annoyed as you got of Sunoo lap and continued to brag about your new boyfriend.

Sunoo only sighed and nodded and smiled. When what he really wanted to do was yell at you for dating a boy who probably didn’t like you.. but he also wanted to kiss you and tell you how much he wanted you to be his too.

-

“ I- I just can’t take it anymore the moment I look at another guy even if it’s just to say thank you for a fucking towel he grabs me like I made out with them infront of him! “. You cried in Sunoo’s arms about your boyfriend as he rubbed your back as kissed your forehead.

“ It’s gonna be ok Y/n “

“ NO Sunoo it won’t be.. i can’t keep letting him control what I wear and who I talk to.. he might just ban me from talking to you too! “. Sunoo’s eyes went wide as you said that.

“ Maybe you should break up.. if he’s that con- “

“ What I was just talking about a break! “. You yelled as you stormed out of Sunoo’s room.

Yet he still wanted to just grab you and kiss you all over your face telling you it was going to be ok..

-

“ He- he broke up with me “. You said as you fell to the ground infront of Sunoo’s bedroom; he ran to catch you as you cried.

“ What happened?!?! “

“ He.. he said I was cheating on him.. told me I was dressing up for someone else and that’s how he new.. when I was just dressing up for him.. “. Sunoo held you close as you cried.

“ I new you should have broken up sooner.. I should have stopped you from- “

“ Are you fucking serious Sunoo! IM HERE BALLING MY EYES OUT AND ALL YOU CAN THINK ABOUT HOW YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME MONTHS AGO TO BREAK UP WITH HIM! I DIDNT COME HERE FOR YOU TO TALK ABOUT WHAT YOU SHOULD HAVE DONE I CAME HERE FOR COMFORT!! THAT’S ALL YOUR GOOD FOR ANYWAYS “. Sunoo’s eyes widened as you rolled your eyes.

“ There was only one thing he was right about.. and that was the fact that your no help at all.. “. You got up and slammed Sunoo’s door behind him. Never to see him again..

-

You struggled to get up not even trying to grab your phone to warn Sunoo you were coming to his apartment. So when you knocked on his door looking like the wicked witch of the west Sunoo was in shock. He let you in and brought you to his room as you looked him in the eyes.

The eyes that you just a few days ago made loss there sparkle. So you cried.. and cried.. and cried as Sunoo hugged you. When you finally stopped all you did was apologize.

“ I- I’m so sorry Sunoo I was such an ass you’ve always been there for me and I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I just needed someone to blame the break up on and like always you were- “

“ It’s fine Y/n “

“ What? It’s no! “. You said as you stood up eyebrows furrowing as Sunoo only smiled at you.

“ What’s so funny? “

“ Nothing it’s just.. really hard to be mad at the person your I love with.. “. As Sunoo finished talking you tackled him onto his bed smiling like an idiot.

“ I really don’t deserve you Sunoo “

“ Ya you don’t “. The blonde boy joked as you started to pepper his face with kisses.

Finally you two were in a happy bliss. Maybe you were going to have to do a lot to earn Sunoo’s trust again but that didn’t matter, as long as he was always by your side you would be ok.

[highdramas]

it’s rotten work | b.b.

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

warnings: language, possible tfatws spoilers, general talk about illness/stomach flu

word count: 1.7k!

summary: you have the stomach flu. bucky takes care of you. somewhere in there, love is confessed.

note: here’s another installment in the twalb story <3 again, you don’t have to read these in order, they stand independently, but they do all work together! PLEASE leave feedback/reblog! this is extremely helpful for me writing future parts to know what everyone likes or doesn’t like! just a heads up i wrote this SUPER quick and it is not proofread but the thought of bucky taking care of me when i’m sick....... ya i just had to write it

enjoy! <3

“doll?”

you’re not sure when you padded out to the living room. you’re not even sure how you managed to get the bowl to set next to you, in case your stomach turned again. and you’re really not sure how you even thought to put a few cubes of ice in the mug full of water that sits on the coffee table.

all you had known was your stomach was a pit of fire and your head was pounding and you are an absolute baby when it comes to feeling ill. and bucky is finally beginning to sleep through the night in the bed that you two share. he doesn’t need to be woken by your moaning and groaning.

apparently, you had drifted off into sleep at some point. and apparently, bucky had noticed. you shouldn’t say apparently as if it’s so shocking. bucky pays attention to just about everything when it comes to you. you’re sure that the second he reached his arm out and felt nothing but the sheets, he sprung from the mattress.

you’ve been drifting in and out of consciousness for you don’t know how long. it was nearly two in the morning when you wandered out of the bedroom, and as you scramble to grab your phone, it reads 3:07am back at you.

“doll, what’s goin’ on?” bucky sits on the edge of the couch and his hand goes to your bare thigh, rubbing your skin, and you note that he is shirtless.

“don’t feel good,” you mumble and cover your eyes with your forearm. “didn’t want to wake you up.” you pause and look at him. “you look so good. ‘s not fair.”

bucky scoffs and he pushes your arm away, placing his hand on your forehead. “jesus, you’re fucking burning.” you faintly feel his hand moving down the side of your face. “you should’ve gotten me.”

“didn’t want to wake you up,” you repeat and you finally open your eyes. he’s looking down at you with an incredulous smile, that somehow manages to mix irritation and adoration. “or get you sick.”

“i don’t care about that.” you’re sure with the serum he couldn’t even catch a cold. “one second.”

you begin to push yourself up, protests on your lips, but bucky shakes his head and gently pushes you back into the couch. “stop. let me take care of you.”

oh.

there’s something simple inim the words that stirs your stomach.

and you promptly grab the bowl and throw up into it.

bucky’s not gone long once he hears you. he has a hair tie on his wrist and various other items which he sets on the coffee table before he scrambles to pull your hair back. you’re hunched over with the bowl in your lap and a pout on your lips. you look at him and say, “i’m sorry, this is so not sexy.”

you throw up into the bowl once more.

despite tying your hair back, bucky keeps one hand tangled in it, the other rubbing circles on your back. “i always think you’re sexy.” cue a gag. “even now.”

you pull back and look at him with furrowed brows. “shut up.”

bucky grins and he wipes your mouth with a damp towel. you slacken slightly as he holds you, as he takes care of you. your mind is nothing but a fog, but at the center of it is bucky. bucky’s touch, bucky’s hold, bucky’s soft voice in your ear. “i think i fell in love with you the first time i saw you,” you begin to babble, your head falling to the side. whether it’s the fever or the exhaustion or a mix of both, you’ll never know. “when you asked to help build kitty’s tower.” you point to where it now lives in the corner of his apartment. “look at your handiwork. you did such a great job. how could i not fall in love with you?”

bucky stills. the two of you have passed many firsts. hell, you two live together for christ’s sake. however, there is one thing that has never passed either of your lips.

i love you.

you continue. “it’s so easy, too,” you say, your head lolling to the side. “to love you. you’re so hard on yourself, buck. but it’s easy as-- it’s easy as breathing.” you smile and it quickly dissipates as you feel your stomach twist again. “god, i’m so sorry you’re doing this.”

“don’t be,” he says, and his voice is husky.

you love him.

he should’ve guessed, right? because he is in perfect agreement with you. he has loved you since he has known you.

slowly, you lean your head on his shoulder and he holds you, setting the bowl down onto the ground beside you. “i feel like you’re not going to believe me,” you mumble. “how much i love you. you never believe me.”

“doll…”

“it’s true!” you pull back, and your eyes are glassy. you fall back onto the couch and you once again place your arm on your forehead. “i wish you could understand.”

“understand what?”

blue eyes lock onto yours. “how deserving you are of good things in the world.” you stretch your legs out across his lap.

you don’t give him much chance to respond before you’re pressing your hand to your forehead and groaning. bucky opens and closes his mouth, trying to find the words, before he shakes his head. not the time. “here,” he grabs the bottle of ibuprofen he’d found in the cabinet and the mug full of water you’d fetched for yourself when you initially stumbled out into the living room. “let me help you. can you sit up?”

nodding, you push yourself up again. he taps your chin lightly, and you open your mouth. he places two pills onto your tongue and he holds the back of your head, handing you the water. a shaky hand takes it and you tip your head back, downing nearly the entire glass. “thank you,” you look at him. “you don’t have to do this. i would’ve been fine.”

“didn’t you just say something about being deserving of good things?” bucky studies you. “that applies to you, too.”

“i didn’t realize puking all over my boyfriend was a good thing.”

he rolls his eyes and you laugh. even when you feel like shit, you’re laughing, bucky notes. it’ll never be lost on him how lucky he is to get a front row seat to that laugh every single day. the two of you sit in quiet for a long time. he gets another damp rag and puts it on your forehead. he sits on the opposite side of the couch and he runs his fingers up and down your legs, making smoothing circles.

when you open your eyes again, sunlight is beginning to stream in through the windows.

bucky is still sitting in the same position, but now, he’s watching the tv, and he seems to have found a t shirt. no sound omits from the tv, but you watch as his eyes take in the subtitles at the bottom of the screen. as you begin to stir, his head snaps to look at you. “hey.”

you rub your eyes, and you’re already feeling a hell of a lot better than you did last night. “what time is it?”

“almost noon.”

bucky has clearly done some cleaning. the bowl from last night is gone and replaced with a new one, clean and empty beside you. there’s a new glass of water on a coaster next to you, as well as more medicine and some saltine crackers. you rub at your neck, trying to recall the events of last night. the things you said.

how could i not fall in love with you?

your heart plummets. you fix your eyes on him and he sits up a little bit straighter. “are you feeling alright?”

“oh my god,” you breathe, and you cover your face with your hands. “i’m so sorry.”

bucky pulls your hands away, scooting closer to you. “doll, no. don’t be sorry--”

“no, i am!” you press your hand to your cheek. ���i throw up all over you, probably sweated all over you-- like, ew! and then, i incoherently mumble about how much i love you?! buck, that’s not the way that i wanted to tell you. not at all.” frustrated tears begin to rear their ugly head. “i’m sorry,” your apology is not more than a whisper.

bucky doesn’t seem to mind any of that, though. “you remember?”

“of course i remember!” you fall back and bucky takes your hand.

“doll…” bucky looks at you. “doll, c’mere.”

stubborn as ever, you stay where you’re at, embarrassment written all over your face. his hands pull you up and finally, you look at his eyes. “i’ve loved you since that night, too.” his words are soft, almost nervous, though you could never understand why. “i thought that maybe you were just… you know, when you’re feverish, you can say crazy things. i didn’t want to--”

you can’t help it, a laugh breaks free from your lips. “that is so like you,” your words are laced with fondness. “i confess my love to you, and you think it’s the fever talking.”

his cheeks go pink. you lick your lips and you hold his face in your hands. “i meant it.” you nod your head, biting down on your lip. “i meant all of it.”

it’s as if you can see the physical weight that lifts from bucky’s shoulders. he breathes a bit lighter, his smile is a bit easier. “i love you,” you insist. “forever, buck.”

bucky’s hand goes back to that spot on the back of your neck, pushing past the tangled knot that your hair has turned into. “i love you,” he says, and he leans in.

his lips barely brush yours before you scoot back, shaking your head. “no, no.” you laugh and move to stand up. “you had to see me throw up everywhere, i’m not going to make you kiss me with vomit breath.”

bucky grabs your hand, holds your face in those tender hands of his, and he presses his lips against yours. the kiss is slow, and it is sweet. when he pulls back, he looks at you with a raised eyebrow. “i’ve seen a lot of bad shit, sweetheart,” he pecks your lips again. “i’m not scared of a little puke.”

you fall in love with him over and over and over again.

[watercolorfreckles]

Thanks for the Ride - Part 2

Part 1 Here

TW: asthma attack, slight angst, mention of blood and sc*rs

((Civilian’s name is now Kaira. Villain doesn’t have one yet.))

Kaira pushed open her apartment door and stepped inside. A flurry of snowflakes gusted in after her, dusting the welcome mat in her entryway as she shoved the door shut. She shivered and slid her boots off, shrugging off her coat next and hanging it up. She leaned heavily against the door to catch her breath, digging her inhaler out of her pocket and taking two puffs.

It had been a month since the incident, and she was left without a vehicle right as the weather turned frigid and biting. Just her luck, as well, that cold air triggers asthma. Kaira coughed and wheezed her way to the kitchen, putting the kettle on to make herself some eucalyptus tea. Her doctor had recently told her that it might help alleviate some of her symptoms. Still struggling to breathe, she dropped herself into a chair at the kitchen table, squeezing her eyes shut. She tucked the inhaler back into her pocket without opening her eyes.

Kaira stayed there until the kettle squealed, forcing her lead-heavy limbs to get up and finish making her tea. She took a few sips though they scalded on the way down, and bent down to scoop some of her cat’s food into her bowl. She coughed and took another sip of tea, shaking the bowl a bit as she ventured further into the apartment. “Missy! Here, kitty.”

No response. That’s odd… Her stomach sank as she realized the tv was on in her bedroom. The muffled chatter and buzz were unmistakable. Had she forgotten to turn it off before going to work? 

She padded across the space, inching closer to the bedroom--though it was barely any use trying to be quiet. The ragged wheezing noises probably gave her away rather unceremoniously. Finally approaching the door and just about to cross the threshold, her cat hopped down in front of her, startling a yelp out of Kaira. The mug and food bowl in her hands crashed to the floor.

Kaira slapped a hand over her face, heart pounding all over again. “Missy. What did I do to deserve that?” she mused between strained breaths. 

She picked the remote up off of the dresser, lifting it to turn the screen off when she noticed what was playing on the news, and listened. More about the villain. The media coverage was constant, barely wavering since the villain’s “death” a month prior. The city clung to the hero’s victory, celebrating with parties and rallies and parades and barbeques. “Superhero finally managed to inject Supervillain with a revolutionary new toxic serum that drained his powers away and rendered him helpless. Superhero triumphed over the monster and fulfilled his duty in keeping our city safe! The crime rate perpetrated by powered individuals has decreased significantly as they all now live in fear of the hero’s new bioweapon. Let’s hope they stay underground where they belong.”

“The thing about Hero’s little serum,” a second voice cut through the silence, making Kaira jump and whirl around, “is that its effects are temporary. Poison a villain, take his powers, incapacitate him, kill him while he’s down. It’s quite the cowardly approach, don’t you agree, Kaira?”

Kaira froze in place like prey, staring at the villain sprawled out casually on her bed. He lifted a hand and lightning crackled over his palm like a second skin. Her mouth had gone unbearably dry and all she could do was stare and try to squash down the harsh rasps of her wheezing.

Villain flashed a smile, looking thoroughly pleased with himself as he sat up, leisurely. “Your firstborn and I have gotten acquainted.” He wiggled his fingers and made kissy sounds, drawing the orange tabby closer to him.

Kaira inhaled sharply and took a step closer, freezing again at the look Villain cut her as he scooped Missy into his lap. “Do you truly think I would harm your cat?” He tsked. “You must truly think me a monster.”

She swallowed again but it did nothing to aid the dryness scratching her throat. “How-How do you know where I live?” she whispered.

Villain stroked Missy’s back, who purred and curled up on his lap. “You had some bills in your glove compartment--your insurance is overdue, by the way. You might want to pay that.” His lip curled in a teasing smile though his gaze rested intent and unwavering upon her.

Panicked, she fished her inhaler out of her pocket without taking her eyes off of him, inhaling a third puff. “I...I haven’t told anyone about you. I swear I haven’t. I-I didn’t even want to raise questions about where you left me, so...I didn’t call a cab until I, um, walked back to the main road. No-Nobody knows what happened, or that you’re alive, I promise.”

The villain hummed, straightening all the way. 

Kaira’s gaze flicked down to his torso where she could see a deep red seeping through his shirt. “You’re...bleeding.”

“And you’re the only one who knows I’m alive, so. Do be a dear and bring me a first aid kit?” His smile widened, all amusement for now.

Kaira blanched and stepped toward the door when Villain lifted a finger to halt her. “Ah-ah, better have you toss your phone over to me first. The best relationships are built on trust, you know?” he purred, blatantly relishing in the glow of pink that spread over Kaira’s freckled cheeks.

She pulled her cellphone out of her other pocket and tossed it onto the bed, waiting for his nod of approval before staggering wide-eyed into the kitchen to fetch her first aid kit.

Oh my gods, oh my gods, the villain is in my house, oh my gods…

Kaira’s hands shook as she returned, easing herself lightly onto the edge of the bed beside him. She gingerly lifted her cat off of him and set her back onto the floor. “You’re bleeding on my bed,” she murmured. She carefully reached for his shirt and flushed red. “Um...can I?”

The villain grinned, wolfish. “Wishing to undress me so soon? By all means.”

Kaira spluttered, floundering briefly before reaching forward again, unbuttoning the bottom half of his shirt. No need to expose more of his chest than necessary, especially after that comment. Wow, he has a lot of scars…

She traced a finger featherlight over one of the pale slices of skin. When she realized what she was doing, her gaze snapped up to meet his. His laser focus made her feel like a bug splayed on a corkboard. “S-Sorry....” She looked away and opened up the first aid kit and gently examined his bloody wounds. “It...looks like you need stitches...is that okay?”

“Ah, what’s a couple more scars. Just clean them and bandage me up.” Kaira could feel the sudden electricity sparking the air as the hair on her neck stood on end. He smiled prettily, though his eyes were sharper, edging on dangerous. “Please.”

Kaira nodded quickly. “O-Okay, yes. Sure. No need to get, um...zappy.” She smoothed down a few pieces of hair that had been suspended by the static thick in the air like smoke. The energy released suddenly once she agreed, expelling like a popped balloon.

She released a breath through her teeth and got to work with trembling hands. “If nobody knows you’re alive, then who hurt you?”

Kaira jumped as the villain brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face. “Sorry, dear, I don’t kiss and tell.”

Her face burned all over again and she avoided his gaze, focusing on the task at hand. When she was done, the villain abruptly stood and crowded close, stealing the breath from her lungs.

Villain bracketed her in place with an arm against the bed on each side of her. “Thanks for the patch job.” He flashed another predatory smile, eyes twinkling, and dangled her car keys in front of her face. “Care to give me another ride, dear?”

Part 3

Thank you for reading!

Tiny taglist:  @writing-on-the-wahl , @ vlerlove , @valiantlytransparentwhispers. If anyone wants to be added, let me know :) 

[bokugaos]

Territory

＞﹏＜ koutarou-nii just has to be the first here!! @aoyukai​ @kiyokens​ @shoyokuns​ for this nd helping nd encouraging me yesterday ILY’ALL MWAH

length: ~2k

warnings — yandere!bokuto, pseudo-incest, virgin reader

Bokuto can’t get enough of his pure and perfect little sister. So sweet, so soft, and untouched. Like an angel.

He knows about the things you talk about with his two older sisters. He tunes in to your conversations a lot; to keep tabs on you, he insists! As a responsible older brother, he has to know everything about you.

He’s seen the way other men look at you—his old high school classmates and teammates, strangers on the street, hell, even his current teammates. Everyone knows you’re off limits, he always makes sure of it. Nobody has the right to take you away from him, to be the reason that you’re going to cater to someone else’s attention but his.

You belong to him and only him.

But you’re simply too stubborn for your own good. You just have to go out and make your own friends, and now you have some suitors that he’s concerned about. You’ve dated some of them and of course Bokuto is spending more than half his time worrying about you and the things you do with them.

The thought of one of them, thinking they have the right to take away your virgin flower. He’s not even entitled to have you, let alone all those scumbags. He can’t bear the thought of someone snatching your innocence away—you’re so precious to him that he doesn’t even allow himself to have it. He would never ever let anyone else take it, not under his watch.

He is more than delighted when you announce to him that you’re going to stop meeting and dating people. You’re now finally seeing eye to eye with him! You haven’t been hanging out with other people, spending most of your time with him, as if living together is not enough for you.

You’ve voiced your complaints before, how you’re getting weird comments from your friends. They told you that it’s not normal for siblings to be that close. But he understands; they hate that you’re no longer so attached to them since you go out to see them less and less. He tries to explain to you that they are simply jealous.

You don’t need anyone else after all; he’s the only one you need, and he’s the best man you can ever find in this world.

But he’d be lying if he says he’s never had a lapse of judgment. You’re not making it any easier for him either, even though you don’t know just how weak he is for you. He’d catch you with your eyes closed, so relaxed and unguarded… what are you thinking? Do you lose your imagination, like he often does?

Are you fantasizing about him caressing you as he’s lowering you to the bed? Because he’s done it a few times you know, putting you to sleep like that. He has just never made any moves beyond. Maybe you unconsciously wish for him to all the same and that’s what you’re thinking about

Do you want him to pull the underwear down your thighs, slowly rub his fingers over your sex, smear your love juice to make sure you’re at least a little prepared for him, before he presses the head of his cock to your entrance? Do you want to feel him, inch by inch, as he sheathes himself deep into your tight, hot, virgin space? Because he would love nothing more than to listen to your moans, all your cute squirms underneath him and your delicious whimpers.

When you call out, “Kou-nii”, his heart jumps—he knows you’re definitely not thinking of anyone else. This is the only time he’s giving into a moment of weakness. He’s got you pressed up on the wall, your clothes hiked up just enough for him to have more of your thigh to grind against. You’re asking him—practically begging him to sink himself into you. “Am I not worthy?” You are, and your mewls, his sister gift wrapping it for him in the prettiest show of doubt and hesitation, can break his fixation.

Bokuto glides his hot, needy cock against your skin. His wet, leaking tip is leaving glistening trails, beautifying you even more. You keep your hands to yourself, both pressed on the surface of the wall. Your eyes are starting to close with each rock of your body, while musical little hums resonate behind closed lips.

He growls, having worked himself into a heated madness. He spins you around, and you instinctively close your legs tightly together for him. With slight difficulty, he wedges himself between the pillowy parts of your thighs, the softest portions, just underneath your crotch. He ruts in between them, with fervent quick snaps.  

His hands plant onto the wall on either side of you. His cock briefly grazes the cloth of your underwear, feeling the moist there. He can’t tell if he’s simply leaking that much, or if you’re truly that wet for him. He pulls back to peel your underwear down in a flash and the next thing you know, its head is rubbing against you, earning him a soft moan bellowing against his ear.

The bedroom is a tad too far, but he won’t let himself be the reason his whole fantasy, the one he’s been dreaming around his fist about, to be ruined. He ups and carries you to the room, restraining himself from throwing you against the mattress and start fucking you senseless.

He crawls on the bed and hovers above you with heavy breaths, unable to calm himself down no matter how hard he tries. You’re so beautiful for him, laying on the stark white sheets as pure as you. He opens up your legs, marveling at how you look like a goddess in his bed. You’re so, very perfect. How is he so lucky to be the one who sees you like this?

Thankful that you’ve waited this whole time,—for him!—and let him take you. He gives you a kiss on the forehead and slowly pulls his hips back, cock leaving a wet trail from navel to mound. He angles his hips so that his bulky head lines up perfectly with your hungry cunt. Your inner, velvety walls hug him, just the tip this time, like a vice grip.

The last bits of his moral center shut down.

All Bokuto wants now is to fuck and fuck fast. To bury himself to the hilt, over and over. However, he’ll need to ease you up even more, as he’s barely even a quarter in but you’re already milking him so tightly that his eyes might actually roll back in pleasure. With an adorable cry—he’s unsure if it’s a surprised one or a pained one—your slack hands move his forearm to his biceps, clinging tighter and tighter the rougher he is. He loves that. It feels as if you're returning some of the passion, so he gives it even more effort.

He mercilessly plunges inside with a few rude thrusts of his pelvis. You wail at the sudden stretch, the burn that careens through your silky, slick walls. Flowering up into your chest, taking the breath from your lungs.

Though his hands are caressing you all over, it seems as if he is not paying any mind to any of your other reactions. Your wails, or the heavy flow of tears that roll down your temples. The whimpering or the continued pleading.

“Hey, pretty girl, don’t cry, huh?” one of his trembling hands smooths over your cheek, trying his best to comfort you despite the raging need in him to thrust faster, harder.  “I-it hurts! and they… they said this is-”

“Just ignore them.”

A thumb hooks around your chin gently but insistently, leaving no room for argument, and you look up to meet his gaze. Bokuto only realizes he’d been slowing down, staring deeply into your eyes when a sob bubbles out of your mouth. Your eyes are half-lidded as he grazes his nose against yours. Kitty kisses, he always calls them. This seems to soothe you the smallest bit. His consciousness is blurring like watercolor now. He has to focus on the more important part of this, he realizes. And it’s you. “How bad does it hurt?”

You shake your head and squeeze your eyes shut.

“I know, baby, I know…it hurts the first time, remember? But d-don’t be scared, I-ah, fuck! It’s nii-chan,” Bokuto’s hips buck faster and harder, “Nii-chan’s got you.”

Closing your eyes you take a deep breath in through your nose. One of his hands is roaming your body, trying to distract you. The very tips of his fingers, gliding over the slopes of your breasts, teasing your nipples. Sending sharp shivers through your stomach into your pussy. Accumulating a new bout of slick, your cunt feeling hot and needy, you clench around him.

Your fingers come together in a fist over your head. All you can focus on is how deep his cock is hitting you, how filled up you are. The unbelievable heat, how your pussy continues to salivate all over his cock. Slick seeping in between your cheeks. Thighs shaking, as your velvet walls clamp down on his length. “Ah!– Nii-chan! Fu-fuck… oh– oh my god…” Your whole body quakes with your intense orgasm.  

You throw your hands back over your head and arch your back. Your breath is fevered, chest rapidly rising and falling. Shaky meek whines that accompany every exhale. But that’s now, because your body is begging for it, pleading to get filled and creamed.

Bokuto continues to piston into you long after you're done coming. He fucks you until you���re a sweaty, grimy, whimpering mess. All muscle strength lost to it, becoming a rag-doll being puppeted by his big, unrelenting figure.

A deep-seated growl in his chest, not yet, he thinks, maybe you need some more practice before you can take him all the way inside. He’s too inside himself to recognize the wail you give, hunching over and burying his face in your neck, tasting sweat and fear and wholly unable to stop himself at all. He grunts like an animal, punctuated by loud, slick smacking sounds, overwhelmed with the pleasure of your burning hot, resisting walls clutching at him like a fist.

You turn him on so much. The tight constriction of your heavenly, virgin cunt. The heavy, moist breath on his neck. Nothing else matters, nothing except catching his end. Filling you up and making you his.

Your nails dig into his biceps and he comes. “Oh! Shit– It’s am– amazing.” His cock, aching and twitching inside of you. He’s coming hard, thick and heavy. Seated all the way inside, spurting deep within you, causing your belly to feel flooded. Marking his territory, you’re his.

He slowly pulls out of you, his cum spilling out of your cute, used up hole. “How’s it feel, angel?”

“ ‘s so good...” You weakly roll your head, face digging into the sheets. You have no strength to lift up your head, but you hope he’ll see your dazed smile.

He chuckles, “Silly baby, of course it does.”

You try to turn over, but he won’t allow it. “No, no. Don’t move. I’ll get you cleaned up!” He comes back with a warm washcloth. He gently cleans off the sweat from your forehead, wipes up stickiness from between your legs. Then he lets you move just he hugs you close to his chest, as he lays down with you in his arms.

Bokuto nuzzles his nose along your cheekbone, humming in approval. He is massaging circles, nibbling on your earlobe. You let your eyes fall shut again, trying to concentrate.

His body is so big, his musk so familiar and homely. You sigh as you finally start to relax, “...Kou-nii is the best.”

He is, and in fact, the only one you need.

[my-writings-and-musings]

Could you do Drift and Ravage for the oxygen loss prompt?

I absolutely can do Ravage, our dear kitty deserves the love! Drift can be found in part six below!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight: Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Part Thirteen: You're Here!

Ravage

·The tale of how you even became friends with the reclusive and understandably untrusting felicon is as long as it is convoluted, but a good synopsis is that the two of you simply get one another. It doesn't hurt that you always gave him ample personal space and respected his boundaries, and the fact you don't mind meeting up in the vents is a plus for him. Bots are absolutely baffled by your relationship, so avoiding public spaces has become his preferred activity to enjoy with you, if only to be free of the gossip. Equally eager to have peace and quiet, you'd long since found ways to make his favorite spots in the vents into ideal hangouts.

·Unfortunately, today is one of the rare days he has to be away from your side and amongst the crew. On the Bridge there's some kind of trouble, requiring all the commanding officers to be present while it's sorted out, and he refuses to leave Megatron there alone. Primus knows his old friend gets blamed for everything that goes wrong eventually... Yet he's far from focused as the diagnostic scans reveal a confounding bug in the ship's programming. As worrying as it should be, his thoughts drift repeatedly to you, and how much he'd rather be somewhere far less open and bright. Hopefully this will all end soon, and the two of you can curl up somewhere to relax, with his larger body naturally fitting around yours as if made to do so...

·A teasing look from Megatron makes him realize he had allowed his dreamy thoughts to color his face with a ridiculous expression of lovestruck bliss. Pinning back his ears and flushing hot as a star, he can only be grateful no one else seemed to notice. Just as he's debating whether or not to sneak away, there's a commotion amongst the more tech savvy bots. They claim to have found the source of the programming bug; which isn't a bug at all, but a virus. Claws fully unsheathing in preparation for combat, his sense of dread grows exponentially as he puts together what is being said, realizing that something very bad is moments away. Lights flicker in confirmation of his fear. In moments the ship is flashing out a hundred or so alarms, signaling that it is more or less helpless against whatever may happen next.

·You're the first thing he thinks about as countless terrible scenarios begin to play in his mind. Between his hypersensitive hearing and smell he's nearly choked on the panic and fear growing through the Lost Light, but all he wants to focus on is you. A human has precious little in the way of defense, and with every system keeping the ship stable, there's nothing to protect you. The solution is obvious; he has to find you before something else does. When the ground quakes and an incoming transmission threatens the crew he doesn't stick around to hear the enemy gloat. A brief explanation to Megatron is all he offers before taking off, and though he doesn't stick around to see it, his old friend gives him a nod of understanding.

·Distant sounds of metallic warping and the scent of soldering tell him the ship is being breached, but also make it incredibly difficult to pinpoint your location. He's memorized every identifiable feature of yours for moments like this, but the chaos turns the air into a smog of panic, so that it's only the uniqueness of your scent that allows him to find a trail. Faster than most vehicle modes and far more limber, he's an unstoppable blur through the hallways. A path to your shared quarters forms effortlessly in his mind as he passes down the levels.

·Far from your partner, you're still recovering from the bang that shook the entire room you'd been so comfortably set up in. Dazed on the ground, you get your feet beneath you before thoughts return, and the first one is for Ravage. Unfamiliar with space travel, you feel compelled to fear the worst; what if he was too close to whatever just went wrong? Capable as he is, the Felicon isn't immortal. Dead communication lines cement the need for worry in your dizzy head. Careless to the considerable tumble you just endured, you try to think of the best possible response for both your sakes. If he's able to so much as crawl, Ravage will be headed for you, so the best thing to do is make yourself as easy to find as possible. Shallow as that plan may be, it's at least a starting point, and you won't have to go far.

·A trail of claw marks through the hallways marks a tireless and acrobatic flight of barely disguised panic. Ravage takes every possible vent into his olfactory receptors for even the tiniest whiff of you. It's a scent he falls asleep with every night, the familiar yet so unusual mammalian musk soothing him as he curled about your tiny body... Now he's panicking over every tiny whiff, if only because he can't tell if you're really okay. Foreign smells tell of an encroaching enemy spilling into the Lost Light, and from the overpowering rush it appears their numbers are considerable. Some even appear to be moving through the lower levels just a floor or two below... Hulking footsteps that are not Cybertronian register in his sensitive ears, moving with such little grace he can feel them through the floor in his perceptive paws. Anger helps him swallow down some fear. If they want to get between him and his partner, then it's their death wish.

·Finding little to be working reliably, you open the door to your room just wide enough to let you through only after multiple attempts prove unsuccessful. A lifeless but somehow noisy hallway greets you. The sounds of combat are close, or at least, you presume what you're hearing to be combat. Perhaps you hit your head harder than you thought, because thinking through what's going on is far more difficult than it should be. Holding onto the wall for support, you try desperately to think of a plan. Ravage could be anywhere, and with no way to reach him, it's impossible to plan a meet up or even attempt to learn of his status. Yet... these dire thoughts don't invoke the panic they should. It's growing impossible to even stand on your own, and without meaning to you start to lean more of your body against the wall...

·Ravage inevitably is faced with a foe he cannot evade, and for your sake, he charges forward. There's a group of them, all gathered in the only hallway that will take him quickly to your location. He can feel the heat of energy weapons simmering in the air by the time he's upon them. With the element of surprise he's able to unleash incredible damage in his first attack, claws and fangs tearing through protective armor to kill one and severely wound another before they even realize they're being attacked. Bounding between their hulking forms, he faces the one disadvantage he's always endured through combat; his enemies far outscale him. Though his need to protect as well as survive turns him into a living blender, a well placed and simply lucky strike makes painful contact with his back, cracking the armor and bringing forth a spattering of energon.

·Recovering with the aid of his own anger to fuel the final attacks, he fights on with the wound agonizing him all the while, sinking his fangs in deep to take care of the final enemy. It isn't until the last body thunders to the floor that his legs temporarily give way. He's in need of medical attention, but he doesn't dare slow down, or even get a moment of rest. Shaking legs push defiantly to get him upright, and for once he's able to be grateful to have four. The ragged pace he resumes with is only as fast as it is because he knows he's close, as your scent is now clear despite the warring smells of blood and a million other unpleasant odors. Even if all he can do is collapse by your side and keep you company, it will be enough...

·Time seems to stand still when he sees you slumped over by the doorway to the room you two share. Though you're without injuries and the iron rich smell of human blood is undetectable, he knows something is very wrong, and though every motion hurts he bounds to your side. Crying out your name, he gently nudges you with a careful muzzle. Warmth and the rythym of your heart quell his greatest fears just before you open your eyes. Not quite awake, you can only be relieved to see him again, far too out of it to be afraid. At his insistence to move you express a desire to rest instead. No amount of encouragement can seem to make you realize the danger, and thus he's forced to make the decision to move you himself, even if he's in bad shape himself. Clearly, you need more help than he can give.

·You go along as best you can when he insists you ride on his back, and it's only your considerable experience doing so in the past that makes it possible now. He tries to think through the pain, but has little luck imagining what could possibly have done this to you, and his efforts to do so are hampered further as he begins to limp forward. Between energon loss and exhaustion and fear he knows things are looking grim. It tears at him more aggressively than any wound ever could, particularly as he feels you growing weaker against him, and all he can do is beg for you to hold on. You want to, but with his body so close and the rocking of his steps, how can you resist the urge to sleep? Surely everything will be fine when you wake... It's too much for him to endure when you slip into unconsciousness, and his legs give out beneath him. Failure burns in his spark as he tries in vain to keep going, his inability to save you haunting his exhausted body as footsteps draw near.

·It's by fortune he has rarely experienced that you're happened upon by a group of bots led by Megatron. He forces himself to stay awake for your sake, refusing to let anyone separate you so long as you need care. The blur of the medical bay brings comfort only briefly, as when he's informed of the reason behind your struggle he's nearly torn apart by guilt. Seeing you with your oxygen mask confirms his failure to protect the one he holds dearest to his spark. Withdrawing from the world, he allows himself to be patched up before curling himself around your tiny body, all but shielding you from the universe so intent on hurting you both.

·The warmth of his frame so frequently is your first sensation upon waking that you don't realize something is off at first. It isn't until you feel the mask on your face that you remember what happened, but by then Ravage is gently tapping his muzzle against you to confirm everything feels alright. Without promoting, he gives a quick rundown of what led up to this moment. You're wide eyed as he explains the ship's atmospheric shutdown, particularly when he gets to the part where he tried to carry you to safety... The apathy as he recounts it all, however, is far from fitting. Laying a gentle hand on a paw, you ask if something happened that bothered him, and receive confirmation from his silent expression of sadness.

·Initially, he can't bring himself to say what's wrong. On the surface he knows his actions were reasonable, but in his spark... he's so afraid of how his own inability to save you nearly resulted in tragedy. Just the thought of losing you is terrifying enough, but having nearly faced it has rocked him to his core, and he sits in silence under the weight of those emotions. Mercifully, you can read him well enough to not need words. Ravage has always withdrawn when upset, and few things agonize him more than failure.

·Gently as you can, you encourage him to come close, pulling his helm as near to your lap as possible. The sadness in his optics nearly breaks your heart, but you're confident as you speak, thanking him for what he did to save you and insisting you wouldn't be here without him. When he briefly tries to protest, you point out that he likely wouldn't be injured had it not been for you, and he quickly replies that you're worth any scars. When you retort that you feel the same way about him, a small amount of weight appears to leave his shoulders. He recalls that the best part of loving you has always been the freedom to exist as he is, free of pressure, and that he can't be a failure in your eyes so long as he tries. It's simply easy to forget that sometimes... Allowing himself a purr, he uses his tail to most effectively wrap you in his protective body, intent on keeping the both of you safe and warm for some much needed rest. So long as you have each other, there's nothing that can't be overcome.

[thenovelartist]

A Blanc Slate, Chapter 6

OKAY! I'm just ready to see this story done, SO right or wrong, good or bad, we are going to keep chugging along and hope it ends up halfway decently XD.

<Previous Next >

16. Purring

It had been a revelation that had shaken Ladybug to her core. Chat… was dying?

He stayed silent, waiting for her to speak first.

“Chat…” Any and all words after that died on her tongue.

“That’s why I can’t be your cat anymore,” he said, voice ragged as though he was exhausted. “Because I have to get rid of this ring as soon as possible.”

“Then let’s look for a solution together.”

He shook his head.

“Why not?” she challenged.

“I have to do this on my own. This is my problem—”

“You’re my partner,” she countered. “Your problems are my problems, too.”

He sighed, looking weaker by the second. “I knew you’d say that.”

“Then why don’t you trust me to help you?” she begged, on the verge of tears. “Why are you cutting me out like this?”

He paused, his eyes avoiding hers as he lost himself in thought. “I have my reasons.”

“And they are?”

“Personal.”

Oh, dammit, Chat.

“Sorry,” he muttered, still not meeting her eyes. “But it’s better this way.”

“I don’t think it is.”

“I do, though.”

She grit her teeth, the pain in her heart growing the harder Chat drew the line between them.

“Trust me on this, bug,” he said, finally lifting his hazy gray-green gaze to her. “The backlash of my actions will come back to only me, and I don’t want you in the way.”

“I’d be willing to—”

“Oh, I know you would,” he cut in. “And that’s the problem. You…” He sucked in a breath. “You and Marinette both. You care far too much about people who are hurting. It’s not wrong, but… for people hurting to suddenly have safe havens like you is both the biggest relief and biggest weakness. Because if anything happens to that safe haven, we’re left with nothing. Mentally, it’s easier to leave the safe haven so it stays safe instead of watching it fall to ruin. Do you get what I’m saying, bug?”

The whiplash his words gave her made her head spin. She was sure he’d said other things before to that affect but never so clear for her to understand something she really couldn’t comprehend. “But… I can still be your safe haven even if you lean on me. I just help you get through all the other hard things. That’s what friends do, right?”

Chat’s ears fell, his eyes closing as he took a heavy breath. “There’s a limit to what I feel like I can ask you.”

“There’s no limit for me.”

“Maybe not for you, but I can’t cope with pulling you into this.”

Ladybug bit her lip, confused and hurt. He’d said before to Marinette that he loved Ladybug more than anything, so why was he pushing her away? Was he saying that he couldn’t lean on her because he cared for her? Because he couldn’t put that kind of pressure on her even if she was willing to take it?

She just… did not understand.

“Sorry,” he muttered, breaking the silence. “I figured you wouldn’t understand. So just… realize that I need to do this myself and stop trying to butt in to ‘help’. Because it’s not helping.”

There wasn’t anything else she could do. “Okay,” she relented. “Under one condition.”

His brow furrowed, and she watched his guard spring up again. “No. No conditions.”

“Just hear me out.”

“Why don’t you hear me out?”

Silenced, her words died on her tongue.

“I don’t want to pull you into this, and don’t go forcing yourself into my issues, either,” he growled, ears pinned back. “I’m asking one thing of you, and you’re trying to play fix-it by not listening to me. Stay. Out.”

There was no other option for her but to relent. “Understood.”

The edge of Chat’s intensity softened, his ears relaxing so they were no longer pinned at her. “Thank you.”

“This won’t be our last meeting, right?”

Chat quirked a brow at her. “Of course. I’ll have to give the ring back to you.”

Oh… right. “Still. You’re not going to just drop it off with me and run, right? You’ll talk with me? Please?”

He stared at her for a long moment before sighing. “Yeah. Fine.”

“Okay,” she sighed, sad and hurting but hopelessly unable to push forward anymore. “That’s all I ask for. I’ll leave you alone until then.”

“Thank you. Now, you leave first.”

Ladybug quirked a brow at him. “What?”

“I have to apologize to Marinette. And thank her for letting us use the room.”

“Oh,” she muttered.

“I don’t have anything more to say to you now, Ladybug,” he stated. “And I won’t until I finish this last mission. So please, just go.”

Though it hurt, she really didn’t have a choice. He’d said more than she’d expected him to, and he also made it clear the conversation was over. She didn’t want to push and risk pushing him away again. But with this in mind, she knew she’d have to think about how their last meeting would go and what she was willing to give to make him stay in contact with her.

She stood. “Okay. I’ll go tell Marinette you’re awake.”

“Thanks.”

She went downstairs, detransformed and waited a minute, as though Ladybug was explaining everything to Marinette. It was hard not to immediately go back up to him, but it had to be done for her identity.

But once that thought struck her, she realized that she’d likely know who Chat was very soon. If he was going to give the ring back to her, he’d have to detransform. She’d know what he looked like outside the mask. She’d be willing to beg for his name, as well as for anything he was willing to give her about him. A part of her had always wanted to know the man behind the mask. But she’d never wanted that more than now.

And if she had to give her own identity in exchange, she realized she’d gladly do it.

Eventually, she walked back up to her room and knocked on the door. “Chat?”

“Come in.”

She opened the door, and there was Chat, sitting right where he had been, except the smile on his face nearly knocked her off her feet. “It’s your room, you know,” he said, his tone teasing. “You don’t have to knock.”

She shrugged, unable to come up with any other retort. “You had both Ladybug and I really worried, you know.”

That smile of his disappeared. “Sorry, Princess,” he said, letting his eyes close and head fall back to lean against the wall. “I didn’t mean to. And I’m sorry about everything else, too. It’s not like I want you to have to take care of me—”

“I don’t mind,” she cut in, crawling up to her bed and taking a seat beside him, their shoulders touching. “Really, I don’t mind at all.”

He huffed. “You shouldn’t have to be babying this superhero.”

“Again, I don’t mind.”

“You’re not a caretaker,” he said. “And it’s not fair of me to take advantage of you like that.”

She shrugged. “You need help. And I’m happy to assist.”

He sighed, turning down to look at her. “I know I yelled at you before for being Miss Fix-it,” he eventually said. “But one of your best qualities is your willingness to help someone. But then again. Maybe it’s not.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because it makes me worry someone might take advantage of you.”

Marinette tilted her head. “Like… what are you talking about? I’m smarter than to let that happen.”

He huffed, sliver of a grin flashing across his lips before disappearing again. “Nevermind. Just… be careful who you let in your life. You… you’re a pretty amazing girl, babying a guy who can’t even tell right from left. You deserve the best, Princess.”

“You’re a pretty amazing guy, too, Chat,” she said. “Risking your life for Paris’s safety for years and still finding time to make others smile when you could. I want the best for you, too.”

He hummed, but didn’t respond. Instead, he leaned sideways, his head resting on top of hers. “Sorry, Princess,” he muttered. “I just… I really need a minute. And then I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Take as much time as you need,” she assured. Out of habit, she reached up, burying her fingers into his white locks right under his cat ear. He stiffened at her touch, but as she slowly scratched circles in his hair, he relaxed. If she was Ladybug, she would use this to start up a purr that amused her so. But she didn’t expect that this time. It was only to put him at ease.

But he ended up purring anyway.

The sound rumbled through her, somehow calming her heart. Oh, kitty.

She stayed like that for a while, long enough for him to fall asleep. And when she eventually realized that, she laid him down on her bed, curling up beside him, and ended up falling asleep herself.

17. Locked in

After that last time she’d met him as Ladybug, Marinette had noticed Chat seemed to be losing himself more and more. She hated watching it, that ring draining him dry. She just wished he’d tell her what he was doing so she, her Ladybug self, could help him. So she could save him.

But she couldn’t. Chat had told her no. And pushing would ruin any chance of saving their partnership.

“You seem to be pushing yourself really hard,” Marinette began, setting a plate of cookies in front of him. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Liar.”

“So what if I am?”

She sighed, taking a moment to focus on what she wanted to say and what she could say as Marinette. Which… wasn’t much.

Chat’s icy demeanor thawed. “Sorry. Guess I’m just on edge with everything lately.”

“Is it stress or…?”

He shrugged. “A combination of things.”

“From what I can guess, you’re pushing yourself too hard.”

“I am cleaning up a mess that I alone can deal with,” he said. “And… guess I can say it’s taking a lot out of me.”

Like your life and health. She bit her lip. “How much longer do you think you’ll be at this? Because watching you now is painful.”

He paused, silence lingering a long while once again. “I have one thing I have to get for Ladybug,” he answered. “That’s it. Then I’m done.”

She blinked her surprise, unsure if she was more shocked at his task or him being so forthcoming about it. “My guess is it has something to do with the miraculous?”

He nodded. “I thought it was locked in a… certain place. But it wasn’t. It took a while to hunt down, but I found it.”

“So… are you saying you’ll be done soon?” she asked, hopeful. “And then you’ll be able to rest and recover?”

He stared at her for a moment before reaching out to rest a large, comforting hand on her head. “Yeah. And then I should be back on track to be okay again, okay, princess?”

She blinked at him, already feeling her vision blur.

He gave her a smile, one weak from exhaustion but true nevertheless. “Thank you for caring about me. It means more to me than you realize.”

18. Oops

Her cat just kept wanting to give her heart attacks, didn’t he? If it wasn’t bad enough that he was already barely lucid half the time, Marinette had just come up on her balcony to see the white super sprawled out, unconscious.

“Chat. Chat!” She flipped him off his stomach as carefully as she could before checking him over for any sign his was breathing. Which, while shallow, he was.

“You’re going to be the death of me, damn it!” she hissed, plopping down on the ground and pulling his head in her lap. Gently, she patted his cheek. “Chat. Chat, wake up, please.”

He didn’t, at least not right away. It took a moment for him to so much as stir under her touch. And when he finally opened his eyes, Marinette felt herself sigh heavily in relief.

“Damn it, you stupid cat,” she said, heaving a sigh of relief while her gut still burned with worry. “You scared the crap out of me.”

His eyes shut for a moment. “Sorry,” he muttered. When he opened his eyes again, they seemed to be a little less foggy. Nowhere near fully lucid yet, but she’d take any bit of progress she could at the moment.

She sat there for a while, stroking his hair and pondering what she could possibly say that she hadn’t already said a million times before. She couldn’t tell him to surrender his ring now, since he seemed determined to see this through, nor could she tell him to go to Ladybug for help. He certainly wasn’t going to listen to her either way.

“What am I going to do with you?” she muttered, tears beginning to make their way down her face. She realized that too late when they rolled off her jaw to splatter against Chat’s cheeks.

“It’s almost over, princess,” he muttered, forcing a weak smile that clearly took a lot of energy out of him. “I’m almost done.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“I mean it this time,” he wheezed out. “I… I got it.”

Got what? She wondered.

It took her far too long to realize what he meant.

“You’re really almost done?”

“Yeah,” he said, reaching up a shaky hand to roughly brush away the tear trail on her cheek. “Almost done.”

She could have cried in relief. Now, she had to prepare herself for his meeting with Ladybug. “Are you going to meet Ladybug now?”

He opened his mouth, but froze, words seemingly stuck in his throat.

“Chat?”

“No,” he answered solemnly, the light seeming to fade form his eyes. “Not… I need… I need a moment.”

Her brow furrowed. “To collect yourself?”

“To… recollect everything,” he said. “Because… it didn’t go as planned. And to call it the second big ‘oops’ I’ve made is just… too much an understatement.”

Suddenly, Marinette’s gut was back into such a tight knot she felt like she could throw up. What happened, cat?

A stupid question. Because unless she could work some Ladybug magic on him, she doubted she’d ever know.

[vocalyunho]

Déjà Vu

pairing — bad boy! stoner! Wooyoung x reader (fem)

genre — smut

word count — 3.2k

warnings — mentions of alcohol, smoking, usage of marijuana, shotgunning, lots of making-out, corruption kink, explicit unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), couch sex, clit play, creampie, praise kink, spanking (not really).

synopsis — an empty rooftop, a half smoked stick of high quality grass and the boy who’s made you see the world from a different perspective, will always make you feel more like at home, than your own apartment will.  

✦ a big thank you to @okayjoonie and @starrychannies for letting me write the bad boy! Wooyoung they were talking about.

Wooyoung always thought the moonlight was the reason why he found people so ravishing at night. Their faces shimmered under it, the hue taking turns from a pale golden to a darker one and, at times, a blueish he couldn’t quite explain, yet it was so pretty.

The moon was his first favorite thing, his second being the stars. The mystery they hold, all the secrets they’re hiding…he wishes to know all of them, but he can’t. The closest he can do to finding these secrets is stargazing. Maybe he’s naïve enough to think that through this, the stars will show him everything they know, but they won’t and even if he’s aware of it, he lets himself drown in their mystique. 

“do you see these stars?” Wooyoung broke the silence on the mid lit rooftop, pointing to the star-filled sky.

“which ones?”

“the ones forming a W, there”, he guided your gaze with his finger, leaning to your side of the couch as he did, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his arm brushed yours softly.  

“oh yeah”

“that’s the Cassiopeia constellation…it’s the most recognizable one in the night sky”

“really?”

“yeah”

“it’s pretty”

He didn’t answer, instead a chuckle danced with the soft breeze until it fainted away and the comfortable silence from before came back. The lights of the city illuminate the high rooftop enough to see sufficiently your surroundings, which aren’t many or too interesting to be very honest. A corn yellow couch so old that the stuffing emerges from the slashes of the fabric and a small brownish table that’s only useful for resting your legs, bottles of beer and a white ashtray, decorate the emptiness. If you think about it, it’s funny. It’s funny how you feel more like you’re at home on a rooftop with two old furniture instead of your own apartment. 

“we’re way too small, aren’t we?”, Wooyoung breathed out, “we’re so insignificant to this world”.

At that, you looked at him. You’ll never understand how his mind works, no matter how hard you try but, maybe, this is the reason you fell for him in the first place. It’s the way his eyes glimmer under the stars and the way his mind runs with two hundred miles an hour on situations it doesn’t have to. You inhaled sharply, not really thinking your answer for too long. 

“who cares about being insignificant to the world when you can be significant to that one person?”, you looked at the sky again but felt his gaze falling on you. 

You don’t know if it’s too early to be looking for that one person, but you do know that Wooyoung is the closest you’ll ever be to that. Even if you had to put up with every single one of his flaws, you’d do it and you’d do it for forever and a day. Maybe this rooftop feels like home because he is there to make it feel like home. 

He didn’t answer this time either, instead his hand moved to the pocket of the tight black jeans he is wearing, only to pull out a small clear bag that consists of what seems like oregano, though you know it isn’t. “Let’s get high to that”, he cheered raising the ziplock bag to the sky.

It isn’t a surprise Wooyoung has weed with him, he has all the needed contacts to procure it. Weed was always his getaway from reality and its bullshit, and you can’t blame him for wanting to get away from it. Though every time he’s come over, you’ve only tried it once because being a coward is your number one personality trait and you’re not afraid to admit it.

He sealed up the rolled stick so easily, it sent a weird tingling feeling in the pit of your stomach. You can’t lie, it’s hot. He is hot, and everything that has to do with him gets you stunned. He ran his fingers through the black locks, pushing the hair back before bringing the stick up and as he put it between his lips, he took a glance of your face. “you won’t let me get high alone tonight”, he chuckled “will you?”, and the way he spoke through greeted teeth made your knees push together for the slightest bit of friction.

“getting high is all I need right now”

“good girl”, the flame of his cheap BIC lighter sparked as he moved it close to the stick. The orange color of the artificial fire lit his face, making you notice for the first time of the night the thick silver chain around his neck and when the edge of the stick turned black, the flame went out and so did your view of his exposed neck.

He took a long drag, letting his head fall on the couch as his Adam’s apple bounced up and down in euphoria. “fuck mee”, he laughed, the drug hitting him instantly, and the smoke left his lips with a single frown of them. Your gaze followed the smoke that travelled in all directions till it disappeared and before you could notice he had tilted his head to your side of the couch, a smirk still painted on his features as he extended his arm towards you “take a small hit at first”.  

You did as he said, feeling your head instantly lighter after the short puff. This feels better than the last time you tried it. A second, longer hit made Wooyoung bite his bottom lip to prevent the comment that threatened to leave him and as you handed it back to him, you shifted on your seat to be face to face with him. 

He took a couple more puffs before pressing the stick to your lips and back on his again, with his eyes always on yours. The smoke added to the effect of the green plant being inhaled and, suddenly, the baby hair that are stuck on your forehead felt way too bothersome. With droopy eyes, you clipped them up with your Hello Kitty hairclips that were hanging off your skirt and Wooyoung didn’t miss a single part of your small movements. 

“have you tried shotgunning before?” 

It’s like he’s always the one to break the void and as you looked at him, you realized he must be as high as you. He’s been taking much longer drags than you but you’re new to this, so the effect came faster. 

“what’s that?”, you laughed resting your elbow on the sofa as your head dropped to your palm.

“you know, blowing smoke in each other’s mouth”

“that sounds interesting”

“d’you wanna try it?”, his tongue wetted his bottom lip and you can swear to any God he looked hotter than ever. 

He’s been letting his hair grow lately and the waves that now fall on his face make him look more of a masterpiece than he already is. Tonight, he had no reason to wear a sleeveless shirt or that damn silver chain that you so wanna grab to bring him close enough to taste the smoke and cheap beer from his lips, even though yours taste the same. 

“very much”

“I’m glad”, he took a long drag of the increasingly smaller stick before resting it on the ashtray, and with a careful move he was back on the couch. Wooyoung was way too high to be moving fast, so taking his time to come closer was probably the best option he had right now. Though you don’t mind, not that you can at this point, but when he grabbed your cheeks with one hand, making your mouth fall open, a choked sound escaped you. His body was dangerously close to yours, almost towering over you with one leg kneeling on the sofa and the other keeping him up by pushing on the floor. He was staring in your eyes the whole time and your heart started beating faster the closer he got to your lips, until he stopped…inches away from your open agape lips. Your breath was shaky, both from the new situation you’ve put your body into through smoking that stick and from how close Wooyoung was to you. Exactly how close you’ve always wanted him to be. 

He blew the smoke right into your mouth slowly, and with full concertation you tried to inhale it equally as slow. Choking was the last thing you wanted right now and it took you by surprise when most of it was into your mouth. Wooyoung didn’t let go of your cheeks, watching closely as the smoke now left your pink lips and vanished into thin air as you blew it. “I’ve been dying to blow smoke into your pretty mouth” His eyes flickered between yours and your heart almost beat out of your chest until the one thought that had been flooding his mind turned into action and his lips crashed on yours. The remainings of the smoke got trapped between your mouths, and it all felt like an illusion. His lips were softer than you’d expected, almost feeling like a warm hug from your favourite person, and for a moment it felt like all the weight left your body and you were nothing but floating. His eyebrows furrowed at the way he invaded your mouth with his tongue and both his hands held your face.

You gripped his shirt, leaving no room for withdrawals as a ragged sigh filled his mouth. The cheap beer on his lips tasted better than when you drank it from the can and as high as you might be, the longing to keep him this close forever stayed in you like an aura. He kissed you messily yet slowly and when he groaned against you, your legs went numb. You’re sure saliva is dripping down your chin, but you want more. More of him. 

You were too lost in the world you had created until a sudden chuckle made Wooyoung break the kiss. Your head fell backwards, laughing at what seemed nothing and he found it hilarious. 

“why does all of this feel so familiar?”, you couldn’t stop the giggles as his laugh got mixed with yours on the empty rooftop. Your hands were still tugging on his shirt until one of them travelled up to take the thick chain between your fingers.

“fuckin’ déjà vu”, he rolled his eyes dramatically.

“did we use to get high together in our past lives too?”

“I wouldn’t complain if we did”

You brought your head up, still laughing at the way you felt due to that damn green magic, and Wooyoung dropped down to your level as you kept pulling him by the chain. His face was inches away from yours again and with a hesitant thumb you brushed the mole on his lip softly “teach me how to roll one of these things”, you whispered against his lips. 

“sit on my lap and I will”, he bit your bottom lip and drew back slouching on the couch with a smirk painted on his lips. His head fell back, resting on the old fabric. The mere whisper he talked with, made the blood run faster to your brain, if that’s even possible, and the droopy eyes left you needing more. You never believed such confidence would emanate from within you, let alone the vigor to straddle his lap the way you just did. The box-pleated skirt you’ve been wearing all day, reached your thighs as you rested your knees on each side of his body, and Wooyoung found your legs fast.

“shit babygirl, that was fast”

His hands caressed the exposed flesh like it was made from glass, afraid it would break anytime, and you shivered. You’re more sensitive now, even the light coming from the city roads seems stronger than it really is. His eyes fell on your lips “fuck that”, and in an instant he was kissing you again, needier this time. His tongue licked your lip and you moaned but gave into him and every sensation he offered you, instantly.

You raised your hips subconsciously, only to realize what you’re doing when your heated core got dragged along the little tent that’s formed on his crotch. Wooyoung groaned and threw his head back at the pressure, hair all over his face and lips pinkish from the cherry lipstick you’ve been wearing. Your hazy mind only showed you that now you need him more, more than every other time, more than every other night and his hands holding on your thighs for dear life, only told you the same. He pressed you down on him harder making you hiss at the intense friction. Your panties are the only thing separating your throbbing clit from the perfect contact and you need them gone as soon as possible.

“d’you know what’d be more fun?”, his eyes are closed, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down at the ecstatic images in his mind that make his cock twitch.

“what?”

“ride me”

Your head throbbed and everything went silent for a second. Wooyoung raised your body only to drag the inconvenient pants and -way too tight for his length- underwear till his knees and his cock sprung up with the tip already drenched in precum. Your mouth watered at the sight of it but, right now, you needed him inside your cunt more than you needed him inside your mouth. Your moves reflected how messily your head was spinning as you rested your arms on his shoulders and when his hand cupped your clothed core, you flinched, letting an expression that Wooyoung instantly loved paint your features. 

“fuck I need you”

He grasped your sides making you fall against him and with voice smaller than ever, your only coherent thought found its way out of your mouth “Wooyoung please”

He slid the cotton underwear to the side, and you know that if he had full view of it he wouldn’t hesitate to comment on the little yellow bow that decorated it. With slow movements he pumped his length a couple of times before aligning himself to your entrance and, no matter how bad you needed him, your body moved equally as slow till his tip brushed your clit, and you gasped. 

It was when half of him, or maybe a little more, was already inside you when a cry left your lips. Wooyoung groaned at how narrow you were and the stretch made your already throbbing head, feel like it’ll soon explode. Although everything was a little blurry, you were one hundred percent aware of the situation you were in and you were loving it.

You lowered yourself until all of him was buried to the hilt and you stayed there for a bit before moving your head from his shoulder. His eyes were heavy on yours and his lip between his teeth in the neediest way possible. Everything felt like a dream until his voice rung in your ears “move baby”.

You rolled your hips lazily and Wooyoung cursed under his breath. Constant whines left you, so small they could barely be heard, as the sensitivity made you feel everything more intensely. The slow pace got him needier but he loved it.

His arms lowered reaching your ass and a loud moan echoed when a slap landed on it “shh”, he caressed the spot to ease the pain, but you only moaned louder. 

“do you like that?”

“mm”

A second slap echoed and your eyes fluttered shut as you clenched, but Wooyoung felt a burning run all the way from his cock to his head making him moan lowly. 

“so tight”

The city’s sounds drink your mixed moans out and you’re glad the apartment under the rooftop is yours or else you’d be in huge trouble. Wooyoung raised his body to come closer and, hesitantly, you wrapped your arms around his neck. His breath was heavy against your neck but yours was so fast and, you weren’t sure but it felt like the grip on your ass tightened sensibly and you felt him deeper.

“Wooyoung-”

“what would the world say if everyone knew a good girl like you is on a rooftop fucking a helpless stoner?”

His voice must’ve dropped an octave. You’ve never heard it so deep before and it made the knot in your stomach grow tighter. But his question is what caught your attention the most. He considers you a good girl and you can’t blame him...he’s the one who’s helped you get out of your comfort zone a thousand times and he’s the one who’s made you see life from a different perspective. Your entire life has been rotating around certainty and safety and if it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t be living any of this.

You held your breath to prevent a moan but Wooyoung was impatient.

“they’d say…fuck him harder…”

His hand creeped up your t-shirt cupping the clothed breast.

“…and don’t let go of him or else your life will turn black and white again—oh ffuck”

A cry filled the void when he brushed your g-spot and you pressed down on him a little harder. The tightening around his length made him hiss but tried to put the right words in order.

“are you the one talking or the drug?”

“it’s me- fffuck right there”

His lips found your neck and your head fell forwards resting on top of his as the euphoria got closer. His voice suddenly changed, getting higher as you kept clenching. You never thought he’d be vocal during sex, yet it drove you crazier by the second. 

“that’s it babygirl”

He pressed you harder on him and your hips rolled faster. He was close, that’s what the throbbing inside you said and only when the hand from your breast travelled to your clit, did you realize how close you were too. Your entire body trembled and louder cries of his name made him attack your lips like a prey. Your noses brushed each other’s and your moans, gradually, became one. 

His index finger circled the sensitive bud slowly but it was all it took to throw you off the edge. You clenched tightly and the grip on your ass stung as he kept moving you against his cock. You broke the kiss, staying right where you could feel his breath against your lips but you cried out like no one could hear.

“babyy-”

Your colours spilled around him and the tightening made him groan as he fucked it back into you.

“you’re s-so good”

He twitched and for a moment the feeling was too much until his hands made you stop from moving anymore. White ropes of cum painted your walls and his moans got high-pitched all the while incoherent curses left him. Your weight on his legs made the quivering less noticeable, but your effect was still there and just the thought that his walls broke down because of you, could get you higher than any drug. 

Wooyoung didn’t move his forehead from against yours, instead he let your breath fan his lips as your minds got a tad bit clearer. It took some minutes to catch your breaths, but when you did the void broke once again by him and, maybe, he’s already found that one person.

“you’re right...who cares about being insignificant to the world when I can be significant to you?”

[capriccio-con-espressione]

Birthday Present | Pt.2

(GIF cred)

Genre: Smut

Warning: Sub!Ten, Dom!Reader, Femdom, Dry/Pillow humping, Blindfold, Handjob, Pet play, Hair pulling, Spanking/Belting, Degradation, Pegging, Vibrators, Thigh riding, CFNM, Profanity, Edging, Tooth-rottingly cheesy ending, Ten is lewd and loud and cries

Word Count: 2511

A/N: This is the sequel to this ask (and kudos to @yangyangthelightskin for sending the original ask in 😘😘 and thank you @sunflowerkeen​ to request a full version of it as well ). Indulge in some seductive Ten!

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

  You feel surges of bliss consuming your body as Ten's lewd moans and gasps corresponding with your every slap fill the air, spicing and heating up the atmosphere, and the way his bottom rocking and perhaps deliberately brushing against your palm certainly isn't helping.

  "Umphh…" Ten's breathing pattern becomes more and more ragged, indicating his building arousal as your gazes meet while you suddenly begin to gently rub his pulsating hard-on. You can easily detect the evident lust in the crescents of his eyes, knowing too well he can see the way you are toying with his cock as well as how the back of his flesh ripples against your every slap.

  "Say, since when have you planned to do this? Seducing me like a little whore you actually are?" You break the ice as you suddenly land a slap on the back of his rock-hard balls, drawing out a nice long breathy whimper from him.

  “W-When last time we w-w-w-watched T-The Handmaiden together...ahh…”  Ten stutters out in a moany voice as you devilishly begin stroking his glistening cock. “I-I couldn’t wipe your facial expressions out of my head when you...mmphh…”

  “When I what? Specify.” You order with a grin, though already knowing too much what he’s referring to.

  “W-when that B-BDSM scene came up...your h-hungry dark gaze...t-the way you b-bit your lip...oh God...don’t stop mmmm…” Ten manages to gasp out an answer as you are palming his tip, his whole body shaking at the tantalizing stimulation yet his tied hands behind his back can do nothing to support his buckling form.

  “You should’ve come clean much sooner.” You darkly add. “Say, you must have wished me to fuck you right there after that movie just like this if Lucas weren’t there to ruin the mood, am I right?”

  “Hnngh I don’t think so-ahh!” Ten’s feigned smirking expression soon falters into a yelp while you harshly slap his ass as a warning.

  “Liar.” Your fingers roam up and down on his perineum, drawing out whimpers after whimpers from him.

  “Hahh fuck yeah...I wish you had r-ruined me like more than this...all I fantasized about you…”

  “Now you want more? You want more, you greedy little slut, huh?”

  “Ahh-oh yes fucking please…make me your nasty little kitten...ahh...use the things in that box...”

  “Oh, you mean this? The particular one you told me to unbox later instead of opening up in the party? Now I can see why...” You immediately reach for the black box lain on the armrest of the couch, before carefully opening it, revealing a set of tortoiseshell-patterned kitten ears with a matching collar with a bell and leash on it plus a furry tail plug, and last but not least, a lacy blindfold.

  “Look how prepped I am…” Before Ten can finish his sentence, you flip him over, slamming his body into your embrace as you entwine your lips with his, feeling the smooch getting gradually wetter and messier whilst low grunts and moans vibrate through the plump flesh that tasted like champagne. Your hand snakes down again to fervently jerk him off as you feel him crumble onto your body even more, whilst deeper and deeper you both fall into the frenzy state of boiling lust, with the remains of his clothing coming off as if you're both gradually stripped of the last bits of your rationality.

  All of a sudden you withdraw your hand, leaving the boy on your lap mewling with a great sense of loss.

  “You’ve really got all the things fully planned out, haven’t you? Come.” You beckon as you untie Ten’s hands, before adorning him with the accessories while he crumbles to his knees pliantly. “Let’s not spoil the fun by unleashing the dirtiest side of you too soon.”

  “You mean us...the dirtiest sides of us...”

  “You know the safeword rules? The color system?” You change the topic into a more serious one.

  "Red means to stop everything, yellow is to slow down, green means…" Ten slightly chokes at the sensation when you pull on the leash attached to the collar to test it. "...fuck yeah…"

  "You sure you want to go further, so I can use my best boygift to whatever extent I want?"

  "Green."

  "You sure you're going to let me take matters into my own hands and let me be ruthlessly sweet but also cruel on you?"

  "Green. Look at this..." He gestures to his twitching cock as he sighs when you insert the tail plug into him after some profuse lubing. "...It's so fucking hard for you and only for you..so fuck me and take me down a peg every way you want…"

  "Good boy." You cradle his jaw before leaning in to plant a soft brief kiss again. “Now follow my lead.” You pull on the leash, guiding his crawling form across the living room to your bedroom.

  Ten’s intense eager gaze burns into you all the time as he moves with his back deliberately arched, his ass swiveling from time to time, his brazen attempt to allure you still evident.

  “Now sit.” You order in a stern voice when you reach the desired designation, as the prettily-adorned boy immediately sits up on his ankles, his tongue darting out coquettishly to moisten his lips.

  “Think I didn’t notice your lewd behavior just now?”

  Ten goes silent though his expressive smirk already says everything.

  “Speak.”

  “No I-”

  “Words.” You cut him off with a firm tug on his hair as he moans out with a ditzy smile in response. “Do I give you permission to use human words, kitten?”

  Ten mewls out with a provocatively indignant huff, pouting, then attempts to reach up and claw at you, yet fails because you pull him away to the other side of your body with the leash, making him fall to the ground.

  “What a bratty kitten.” You concluded with a smirk while scratching his chin as he nuzzles you，his eyes closed at the enjoyment of your touch. “Since you want to be a naughty horny kitten rutting in heat, I’d let you. Come here.” You coo as you sit on the bed with your legs spread wide, while motioning him to sit on your right thigh, as he immediately leaps up at your order.

  “Now ride it.” You command, still pulling on the leash. “Ride it like a keen little kitten eager to please.”

  Ten soon commences humping your thigh back and forth, eyes boring hungrily into you as wanton moans at the friction leave his parted lips, making you unable to take the weight of his stare as well as the wonders of his hips anymore, both of his cock and your core dripping with need.

  “This shall hinder you from arousing me too much…” You grin coquettishly as you blindfold him with the lace you remembered to bring with you from the gift box, while tracing your fingers on his torso afterward, pulling his face close to you with the leash. “I want my naughty little kitten who thinks he can toy with my heart as much as he pleases with those pretty kitty eyes completely overpowered and humbled…” You growl into his ear, sending shivers down his spine, sensory deprivation evidently heightening his arousal.

  You then wickedly pull out the tail plug slightly, making his motions seem as if he’s pushing back and pleasuring his sweet spot on his own. “Fuck yourself, my pretty boy pet.” You feign sweetness in your voice as continuous broken gasps begin rolling out of those luscious lips. “Looks like my cute little kitten is desperate, should I make him cum now hmm?”

  The only syllables that Ten can utter are urgent yet breathy mewls, which you take as confirmation to your slightly degrading question.

  “Yet bad needy kittens like you don’t deserve the privilege to cum yet. Kneel.” You cruelly conclude as you yank him on the leash, supporting his weight with your arm while standing up and lifting him off your thigh, forcing him back on his place on the ground with your foot pressing down on his thigh.

  “Who do you think you are, messing around with my mind with that smug sensuality of yours hmm?” You pull and sway slightly hard on his leash, but still in a controlled manner, while uttering out every single word, making his body jolt and shake helplessly just like a rag doll for your entertainment. “Now you should get the taste of your own medicine...” You chuckle as you drag him even closer to the bed, putting his hands on it. “Crawl onto the bed right now.”

  You reach for the two fluffy pillows situated at the end of the mattress as Ten begins to fumble his way to the spot of your desire, then you instruct him to lie on his stomach after placing the pillows underneath his pelvis. “Fuck the pillows just like you imagined I would do to you.” You demand whilst dishing out a belt from your closet. “Continue the little show for me that was somehow interrupted earlier…” You simper while pulling out the tail plug, before tapping the leather on his ass and drawing out shivers of anticipation from the blindfolded boy.

  Ten drives into the pillows, burying his face into the mattress as if he’s basking into the warmth of euphoric paradise, as red marks and loud snaps commence blossoming on his seductively swiveling rear.

  “Fuck you are really something, aren’t you?” You taunt as you land another loud smack on him again. “You are enjoying this a bit too much, aren’t you? My little slut…” You conclude before lashing out several consecutive blows.

  Just then you hear Ten mutter something under his breath. “What is it, my sweet little kitten?” You inquire, now worried.

  “Green…” Ten breathes out, this time a bit louder. “Greengreengreengreengreen…”

  “Awwww you insatiable one…” You coo when caressing his now red flesh. “I’m gonna wreck you until you’re a helpless begging mess…”

  You then fish out your magic wand vibrator from your bedside drawer, then retrieve the ribbon that Ten used to mesmerize you early on, before instructing him to lift his ass up and tying the wand to his swollen red cock, just to switch to the highest setting immediately, making the kitten boy fall back to the pillows again while desperately moaning out loud.

  “This is the punishment you get for riling the birthday girl up…” You darkly comment as you resume whipping him again. “And don’t you dare cum unless I say so.”

  Moans after moans of prurience emerge from the boy as you fully lash out on him while still pulling his head back on the leash. Ten’s hair is now a ruffled mess, trickles of tears oozing out from the blindfold, making his confident appearance a while ago seems laughable now.

  “Do you want to cum, my depraved little kitten?” You inquire condescendingly again as you yank on his hair, as he fervently nods in response, his whimpers so desperate that sound utterly pathetic.

  “But sadly you can’t until I’ve had my fair share of fun yet…” You devilishly grin at Ten’s suffering, while switching the vibrator completely off, before grabbing the lube and your favorite strap to the play. You climb onto the bed, sitting down next to him once you’re fully equipped and have him lubed and prepped. “Ride it.” You order once he’s guided to the proper place, where his entrance is right on top of your proudly girthy strap.

  Ten’s facing you with his backside, hips making enthralling motions as he bounces up and down on your cock, while whimpering sweetly and throatily. You grab his hips to support him, fingers sporadically tracing and scratching along his body to fire up signals to his senses even more. Ten’s breathing gradually accelerates as he’s building up closer to his next orgasm after getting denied too many times.

  “Does my little kitten really want to cum this bad?” You whisper while switching up the vibrator again, earning gasps of surprise and vehement nods from him. “If you really want to, bend over and let me use you like the little fucktoy you only deserve to be.”

  Ten lets out faint cries upon the humiliating sentence and quickly obeys. You lube up your strap once more, before positioning yourself and slamming into him ruthlessly, switching on and off the vibrator from time to time to tease the already destroyed boy up, as you can tell that he struggles to heed the rule of using no human words. “You may now use your pretty human words to beg now, my sweet little pretty boy..”

  “P-please just let me c-cum...s-stop teasing me…” Ten cries out.

  “You promise to be my good little kitten instead of acting up like a lust-filled pervert?”

  “Y-yes please!”

  “Are those all the words you can think of? I can’t feel your sincerity.” You taunt as you switch off the vibrator while pulling him back with the leash. “Where’s that bad kind of player who was witty and naughty and thought he could have his way with me?”

  For a few seconds, Ten’s mind is completely boggled as all he can make is incoherent sounds. “Please please please allow me to cum...it’s driving me crazy...I’ll be a good little kitten only for you so please...I’m begging you…”

  Upon his choked voice, you can tell he’s nearing his breaking point. “Cum for your birthday girl then, my cute little kitten.” You softly speak as you switch on the wand again, finally granting the sobbing boy some release after a loud throaty cry.

  “You’ve done so well and beautifully for me, baby….” You remove the restrains on him while begin soothing his spanked flesh and still heated body with some lotion after you both come down from your high, as Ten meekly leans into you for a tight embrace.

  Some tranquil silence passed between your afterglow as you both hug each other tightly, both knowing too well that this relationship has crossed its line to another level.

  “Hey, “ Your giggle breaks the silence. “I know this may sound cheesy and lame, but I have to say this.”

  “What?” Ten lazily responds as he reaches up to plant a kiss on your cheek, making you internally flustered despite your cruel appearance just moments ago.

  “Thank you for trusting me this much to fulfill your fantasies.”

  “You did great as well, much better than my own imagination.” Ten flashes that reassuring smile that makes your heart flutter a little again. “What’s most beautiful about sex is the mutual understanding and chemistry between the partners even when no words are exchanged. After being such great friends for this long, I do believe we can make it, from the bottom of my heart.”

  You just nuzzle closer to him, not willing to break this intimate harmony after those enchanting profound words, knowing you just received the best birthday present you could get, ever.

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

Tagging: @lovingonrepeat​

Thank you for motivating me to write this when I hit the writer’s block due to my hard-pressed life outside Tumblr <3  

[cinnamonbun-dai]

quarantine boredom

 (luciel choi/ 707 / saeyoung choi)

-

(о'∀'о) smut (о'∀'о)

tried to make this the most gender neutral as possible (so if you’re a guy you’re a bottom) may be cause of quarantine but seven do be hitting different

waning: oral, clothed sex (kinda), dirty talk, use of the nickname kitten and master, religious references, exhibition kink sort of (phone call during sex) 

-

It had now been 4 weeks since you’ve been forced to stay inside due to the current pandemic. For your boyfriend, it wasn’t a big deal since he stayed inside all day anyways, only going out for the RFA parties or if he needed anything he couldn’t get online but for you, you were starting to get bored out of your mind, already have organised the entire apartment, watched all the movies you wanted to see and done all the work you needed to do, hell you even wrote an essay about how Saeyoung’s theory on making the longest cat would be impossible. 

So you decided to fill the boredom with quality time with your boyfriend, even if he was working. 

You were under his desk, peppering kisses on his inner thigh.  “What are you doing kitty?” he asked, his hand stroking your hair softly. “Nyah.” you nipped at his left thigh, looking up at him. You had already removed his jeans, leaving him in his cat themed boxers. Your response made him blush, his hands shakily put his cross under his t-shirt. You chuckled at his action, it was something that he did when ever you too would get intimate, saying that the Lord didn’t need to see what sins he was going to commit because of you. “You’re such a naughty kitten aren’t you? Riddled with sins.” he smirked, letting himself indulge in his needs.  “And yet you let me taint you, my lovely God Seven.” you smile, finally removing his underwear. You made sure to watch him as you slowly licked from his base to his tip, enveloping his tip with your mouth to suck lightly. You could feel yourself getting more turned, his reaction not helping. 

You continued to suck him off until you were satisfied, his little moans and whines making you impatient. You went to sit on his lap to kiss him. You could feel him slightly cringe from tasting himself on your lips. You continue to make out until you felt him lift you up, carrying you to the bed.  “I guess I can sin sometimes, especially when it’s for me sweet kitty.” he whispered in your ear. His words made you whine. He moved quickly to remove your underwear. “Aren’t you gonna take my hoodie off master?” you asked, doing little kitten paws with the sleeves of the hoodie you were wearing (well it was his hoodies but shhh). “Nah, you look so cute in my hoodie.” He complimented, moving to slowly stoke you, feeling how aroused you were for him. He quickly commented on it before inserting a finger inside of you, using his spit as a lubricant. He made quick work of making sure you could take him with out much pain. 

“Are you ready?” he asked, making sure you were okay before inserting himself. You nodded, bucking your hips to show him your neediness. 

He made sure to bottom out slowly, letting out a moan worthy of a Pornhub award when he finally did. Once you told him he could move, he started moving, nipping at your sweet spots on your neck, chest and collarbones.  “Nyah- ah- Master... F-fuck!” you whine, feeling his hand simulate you more. You felt like you were cloud nine, feeling utter bliss as your boyfriend ravaged you, his member stroking against your special spot making your eyes roll back.  “You’re such a dirty kitten, always letting yourself succumb to the temptations.” he groaned, knowing how much you enjoyed dirty talk.  “Says the God who’s borderline the Devil.” you laugh, the laughter turning into a moan at the end. You felt so close, so fucking close, Saeyoung whispering how you feel so good or how sinful you are pulling you closer

But of course, you know that there’s never an uninterrupted moment with him, wether it be V calling him at some random time or his work telling him that he needs to look at something urgently.  And that’s when the phone rang, making Saeyoung stop his mouvements. He apologised, explaining it was V before answering (luckily he kept his phone on the nightstand). He decided to continue moving, hoping V won’t notice or comment the background noise or his ragged breathing (even if he does have an excuse for that). You could feel yourself tip closer to the edge, the fact that if you were to moan to loudly that V would know of both your little quarantine activities. He quickly muted V for a second to be able to talk to you. “Fucking cum, I can feel how close you are kitten.” he said before continuing his phone call. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, your hands gripping at the sheet tightly, bracing yourself for your orgasm.  “Ah- Saeyoung!” Your eyes rolled back and your mouth opened slightly, your tongue rolling out, basically creating an ahegao face, finally letting go, your walls squeezing around him.  “Holy fuck-” you heard him say, cumming just from the sight of you climaxing, forgetting about his call with V.  “Eh yeah, (Y/N) just scared me. I need to go, I’ll call you later.” he excused himself, throwing his phone somewhere. 

“You were so good kitten, so good for me.” he praised, peppering your face with kisses. He continued to praise you, cuddling you. You found yourself laying on top of his chest while he played with your hair. You leaned up to kiss him before both agreeing on having a nap.  “Love you.” he said closing his eyes to fall asleep. “Love you too.”

Bonus: 

“Saeyoung?” V asked, not hearing the boy reply, hoping he hadn’t gotten into some type of trouble.  “You were so good kitten, so good for me.” “I’m so proud of you for taking my cock so well...” he heard a voice say, the words slightly muffled. He realised that it was Saeyoungs’ voice and what activities you were doing together.  “I swear that man...” V mumbled before hanging up, wishing he was nearly deaf than nearly blind for once so he didn’t have to hear his friend and colleague say those lewd words.  

-

(unedited)

[justatiredpotato]

Set Me Free | Chapter 2

Chapter List

Pairing: hybrid!Yoongi x human!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, coffee shop AU, hybrid AU

Word Count: Chapter: 7,000~  Total: 40,000~

Updates daily at 10pm MST

Warnings: anxiety, Yoongi’s life has been sad to this point I’m sorry

Summary: Yoongi, a cat hybrid, has been hurt time and time again by a world that would have him believe he’s worthless. One day he finds himself in your protective care, and gets a new family to boot. But is it really that easy to escape the past and embrace a new beginning?

Author’s Note: In this fic the reader’s name is Yeoji

Once you’d pulled yourself together a bit you joined the boys in the cafe. Jungkook already had drinks made for everyone, and Jimin brought you your favorite coffee as you entered. His brows furrowed and his lips settled into their signature pout when he noticed your tear-stained cheeks. Once you settled into one of the loveseats he immediately snuggled up to you, trying his best to curl into your lap. Taehyung quickly joined, sitting on the floor and resting his head on your lap. To your surprise, Jungkook even joined the pile of hybrids surrounding you. He hadn’t been much for cuddles since he became a teenager. Nonetheless, he squished himself into the space on the other side of you and Jimin, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest.

The sudden warmth and comfort brought tears streaming down your face again. Jungkook gently petted your hair, sniffing at it lightly to gauge your level of distress.

“It’ll be okay, noona. Hoseokie-hyung said he’ll get better,” Taehyung’s deep voice rumbled from where his cheek rested on your leg.

Jungkook lifted his head from your hair to look at you, then at Hoseok.

“Hyung, that hybrid smells weird. What’s wrong with him?” he said. The other two boys sniffed at your clothes, catching the injured man’s scent and frowning. 

You turned to look at him. “What do you mean weird?” you asked, sniffling.

“Hybrid-y. But not? I don’t know how to describe it since you can’t smell it,” he tried to explain. “It seems familiar somehow.”

“It’s like, we can tell he’s a hybrid, the details aren’t there. Sort of? His scent is there, but it’s really light and… blurry?” Taehyung added, brow furrowed as he tried to find the right words. 

Jimin sniffed at the curve of your neck where Yoongi had been crying. He looked up at you with wide eyes.

“You didn’t say he’s a kitty like me!” he said.

“I didn’t know for sure. I didn’t really have a chance to ask,” you said, petting his hair mindlessly.

“It sounds like he’s using some kind of scent-supressing product?” Jin said. 

“Woah, aren’t those like, expensive?” Jimin asked.

“Yeah, and they’re bad for you. Since they’re marketed toward… “stray” hybrids, they aren’t regulated very well. Some of them cause really bad skin irritation,” Jin said. “I’ve seen people come into the shelter who’ve used them.”

“They can make your hair fall out too,” Jungkook said. You all looked at him, surprised. “I’ve never used them, but some hybrids that looked after me before I met you guys got ahold of some. They said it was worth it if it kept you out of the shelters.”

No one said anything to that. Jungkook didn’t mention the time before he came to live with you and Joon very often. Being alone on the streets as a child was traumatic to say the least. You grabbed his hand and twiddled his fingers.

“Well, he doesn’t need to worry about that now. He doesn’t have to hide here,” you said.

“Is he staying?” Taehyung asked hopefully. Namjoon raised his eyebrows expectantly.

“He isn’t going to be your new favorite kitty, is he?” Jimin asked, nuzzling further into your t-shirt. You laughed, smoothing over his ears with your free hand.

“Don’t worry Jimin, you’ll always be special to me. And I’ll always have room for more sweet kitties in my life.” You squished his cheeks, making him giggle. 

“Did you convince him to stay here?” Namjoon asked.

“I don’t know,” you sighed. “I barely stopped him from running out into the snow right now. He was about to go pick up a set of clothes from the alley and leave.”

“I think he trusts you,” Hoseok said. “If you’re up to it, he might be willing to stay here. I doubt he’s felt as safe as he does with you for a long time.”

“Of course, he can stay. I hope he does. I just wish I’d known sooner. He must’ve had such a hard time. He comes in every day, I can’t believe I missed this!”

“Not every day,” Jungkook corrected. You looked at him, waiting for an explanation. “He only comes in when you’re working. Did you really think a broke street performer was buying fancy coffee every day just because? You don’t need hybrid senses to know he was coming in for you.”

You felt Jimin nod, another giggle escaping his lips.

“You seriously didn’t figure it out, noona? I noticed the first time I met him.”

“All this time…” You thought back over the last year or so. “I only asked his name a couple of months ago.”

“It’s okay, noona. You see a lot of people,” Namjoon said in an attempt to make you feel better.

“Not a lot of people that come in every day, and smile at you like you made their day by remembering their order,” you said. You spiralled, thinking about how all of this could’ve been prevented if you’d just asked him anything. “All of my regulars don’t wear the same ragged clothing every day, and come in without an umbrella when it's pouring rain, or no coat when it’s going to snow, they don’t order the cheapest item on the menu like it’s a delicacy.” You leaned out of the boys’ embrace and put your head into your hands. When had you started crying again?

“It’s not your fault, noona. Nobody knew,” Tae said, attempting to pull your hands away from your face. But that statement somehow made it worse. Because he was right; no one knew, because no one had bothered to ask. He’d obviously been starving on the street and no one noticed. The quiet tears had devolved to hiccuping sobs again and Tae stood on his knees to hug you.

“I should’ve asked,” you cried into his chest. “I should’ve noticed he wasn’t okay. He hasn’t been okay the whole time I’ve known him.” Taehyung clutched you tighter, wishing he could fix this for you.

“But you know now. You helped him when no one else did. And he’s safe now. You did that. And he’s so lucky to know you,” he said. He kept mumbling comforting words until you calmed down a bit.

“I should go check on him,” you said as you stood.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Hoseok asked.

“You can check on him, but then you need to go home. It’s late and I know you work tomorrow,” you said, running a hand over your face.

“Do you want us to stay?” Joon asked. 

“No, I think I’ll just close the shop for tomorrow. One day won’t kill my profits. Then I can help him look through his things and replace what he needs.”

“I’ll bring some clothes in the morning to get him by,” Jin said. He wrapped you in a hug before leading the boys out to the car. They all gave you hugs, Jimin lingering and gracing you with comforting purrs before letting you go. 

Hoseok followed you back into the apartment, catching your wrist to stop you before you entered your bedroom.

“Hey, I didn’t want to mention this in front of the others, but be careful with him, alright?” He nodded toward Yoongi. “I don’t know how he was living before, but he’s pretty scarred up.”

Your eyes widened. “What kind of scars?”

“I can’t say for sure,” he said, pausing for a long moment before meeting your eyes. “They seem to be from some kind of assault.” He sighed heavily, suddenly looking very tired. “It would explain why he was so skittish when I was patching him up. The most recent lash marks on his back were at least a few years old.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Lash marks? Oh god. What happened to him?”

“Look, this is really something you should hear from him. I don’t feel right sharing his private information like this.”

“Of course, you’re right. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Just, be gentle with him, noona. He’s been through a lot,” Hoseok said with a sad smile.

You spent an hour or so after the boys left trying to clean up some of the personal items they’d managed to salvage. The ragged clothes went into the wash, and you did your best to dry out any notebook pages that weren’t smudged beyond recognition. Your counters and dining table ended up covered with crinkled pages weighted down with whatever you could find. You rummaged around in the hall closet and pulled out a fan, setting it to blow over the mess of papers. Yoongi’s backpack sat forlorn on the floor next to the table. 

You debated whether you should pull out the contents and try to dry them out, but decided against it. The last thing you wanted was for him to feel you’d further invaded his privacy. His keyboard was already well-worn when you’d seen him playing it on the streets outside. But looking at it you doubted it would work at all now. For some reason looking at the battered instrument made your eyes water again. 

You turned away quickly and instead went to the kitchen to make another warm drink, not worried about the caffeine despite the late hour. You settled onto your couch, wrapping a fluffy blanket around your shoulders and holding the warm mug in both hands. At some point you must’ve dozed off, because a soft grunt woke you. You blinked, a bit disoriented waking up somewhere other than your bed. Early morning light was streaming through the windows. Glancing at the clock you found it was already 9am. You turned toward the sound that had woken you and found Yoongi slouched in the bedroom doorway. He glanced around nervously before meeting your eyes.

“Hey,” he said, voice scratchy from sleep and the tears of the night before.

“Hey. What are you doing up?” You rose and made your way around the couch toward him. “Are you hungry?”

“Don’t worry about it. I just figured I should start getting my stuff together,” he said, already making his way toward his bag.

“I can help you with that later. For now let's get some food in you. You shouldn’t even be on your feet yet. I’ll get your bag for you.”

You gently took his arm and guided him to the couch instead. He seemed to consider resisting, but thought better of it. His slight frame was stiff against your side, but he started to lean on you a bit after he nearly tripped on the living room rug. You settled him onto the couch and took the blanket you were wrapped in, tucking it around his shoulders. He nodded his thanks and pulled the blanket up around his head to cover his ears as well. You turned to hide your smile at the cute gesture and brought him his bag.

Once he was settled in where you could keep an eye on him you went to the kitchen to put some breakfast together.

“Are there any foods you don’t like?” you call, pulling out bread and cheese since you already knew he liked cheese toast.

“Anything is fine,” he said, ducking his head in thanks. You nodded, thinking before pulling out some sausage and eggs as well. The boy needed to get some meat on his bones. You glanced over at him on occasion watching as he pulled a laptop out of the bag and opened it. He seemed to sigh in relief—apparently it still worked. He rummaged around for another moment before looking around the room.

“Missing something? I can go look for it, whatever it is.”

He didn’t answer, instead scanning over all the surfaces in the room with wide eyes.

“My notebooks… Did you-?” He met your eyes, seemingly shocked.

“Oh, yeah. I laid out what looked salvageable to dry. Hopefully most of it is still alright. I wasn’t trying to snoop, but I couldn’t help reading some. They’re lyrics, right?”

He nodded, eyes focused on his hands fidgeting on his lap.

“They’re really good, what I saw, I mean. You’re talented. Maybe you could show me some of your music sometime? If you’d be comfortable with that.”

He winced, glancing at the keyboard on the loveseat to his left.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to play anything for you. Sorry.” The wobble in his voice made your heart clench. You put the finished meal on a tray and made your way over to sit beside him on the couch.

“We can get you a new one,” you offered weakly. He nodded, blinking rapidly. 

“It’s not a big deal. The thing was a piece of s*** anyway.” He tried to sound dismissive, and you didn’t push the matter, instead making him a plate and setting it in front of him before making your own. You glanced at him expectantly, but he wasn’t eating.

“Do you want something else? I can see what else I have if this doesn’t look good. I need to run to the store later-”

“No, it’s just- You didn’t say I could-” He stopped when your eyebrows shot up, eyes wide. His face flushed bright red as he shifted uncomfortably. “You didn’t say I’m allowed to eat.”

Your stomach flipped uncomfortably as you realized what he was implying. “Yoongi, you don’t have to get my permission to eat.” He shrank in on himself, but you didn’t let it go. Your hand came to rest gently on his arm. 

“Hey, look at me. You’re my guest, not a pet or a- a-” You cringed, not even wanting to say the alternative ways people described hybrids. You shook your head, trying to clear the anger that flared up when you thought of how poorly he must’ve been treated before you knew him. “You are a person, Yoongi. I am going to treat you like a person, because you deserve that. Okay?”

He nodded, face hidden behind the hem of the blanket still tucked over his head. The two of you ate in silence after that. You observed carefully, making sure Yoongi cleared his plate and coaxing him into seconds as well. Once you were satisfied he’d eaten enough, you stood to clear the dishes.

“Coffee?” you asked as you headed back to the kitchen to make a cup for yourself. He glanced up from his bundle of blankets with a shy smile and a nod.

“The usual?” you asked. He didn’t respond and you glanced up to find him debating something. “Why? Do you want something else? You can have whatever you want, Yoongi.”

“Can I have cream?” he asked quietly.

“Of course you can have cream! How much?”

“Whatever you think,” he answered.

“So, a lot?” you said with a grin. His small smile grew and he nodded. You returned to your spot on the couch a few minutes later with two cups of coffee. You handed him his, and his eyes widened when he saw the pile of whipped cream you’d added.

“Good?” you asked hopefully.

He gave you a gummy grin before taking a big sip. You couldn’t help but giggle, delighted by the first genuine smile you could recall seeing from him.

“It’s great,” he said smiling again as he licked the line of sweet cream off his upper lip. You laughed at the spot that still stubbornly remained on his nose. Without thinking, you reached out and swiped it away with your finger. He had a pretty adorable nose, so you’d be lying if you said the impulse to boop it hadn’t crossed your mind before. He went cross-eyed for a second as he followed the gesture. A low chuckle escaped him and you felt warmth spread through your chest at the oddly comforting sound.

“Thank you. For everything, I mean,” he said, gesturing with his mug but obviously meaning much more.

“I meant what I said last night. You can stay as long as you want. I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“I don’t want to be a burden. I’m already indebted to you, and I have no way to pay you back. And then there’s your friend’s medical supplies-”

“You mean Hobi? Don’t even try. There’s no way he’ll accept money for helping someone who needed it. I’m honestly surprised he lets the hospital pay him his salary,” you said with a laugh, trying to deflect the conversation.

“Well, I have to get these clothes back to that other guy-”

“Jin.”

“Yeah, right. Where are my clothes, by the way?” he asked, glancing at the items you’d sorted through that were scattered around the room.

“Oh, right! I have to change out the laundry,” you said. You stood to hang the clean things and put in the next load. “I washed what the guys brought in last night. Everything you were wearing except for the hoodie was ruined. Sorry.”

He visibly reddened, remembering the ordeal he’d woken to the previous night.

“Right, of course.” He paused. “Hey, did you see my hat?”

“Hat? Why? Are you cold? I can turn the radiator up. Do you want more blankets-”

“No, I just- I don’t like to show my ears,” he said quietly. You paused, setting the clean laundry aside to sit with him again.

“Why not?” you asked gently.

“It’s just- I don’t like to. People treat me differently when they know what I am. I want people to treat me like a person, you know?” he said, scratching at his ears under the blanket.

“Knowing you’re a hybrid doesn’t make me think any less of you. So please don’t feel like you have to hide anymore. At least not with me,” you said. 

He held your gaze for a moment before he apparently came to a decision. He slid the blanket back down to his shoulders. His ears were covered in soft looking black fur, though it was thin in patches near the top.

“From keeping them under a hat all the time,” he explained. “They look gross, I know,” he said. He was clearly anxious and he almost pulled the blanket back up. You stopped him though, smiling softly because he was just so dang cute. He examined your expression.

“No, they’re- You’re actually even cuter this way,” you said absently. His ears twitched and a blush crept across his cheeks again. Your eyes widened and your own cheeks grew red as you realized what you said.

“I’m sorry, was that rude? That was a weird thing to say, I’m sorry,” you backpedaled. Surely you’d made him uncomfortable now, just as he was opening up to you.

“No, no. It’s fine. That’s actually really nice of you to say.”

You gave him a gentle smile and with a nod of your head, turned back to the laundry. The morning then settled into a comfortable silence. The quiet hum of the radiator and the soft rustling of the blanketed man sitting next to you blended with the random b-movie you found on Netflix. 

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Jin came by late that morning to drop off some clothes for Yoongi. You let him in and poured him a cup of coffee before settling at the table with your own.

“So, how’s he doing?” he asked, glancing around and noticing Yoongi’s absence. 

“Better. He got up and ate with me this morning. I put on a movie and he napped through most of the afternoon.” You looked over your shoulder toward your bedroom door. As soon as you’d told Yoongi that Jin was on his way he’d scurried off to the bathroom to take a shower. You told Jin as much.

“Yeah, he didn’t seem to care for me; or Hoseok for that matter. Seems to trust you though.”

“I guess. He still seems like he’s waiting for me to throw him out, or hurt him somehow. Earlier he-” You cut yourself off, not wanting to violate the trust that Yoongi had placed in you.

“What?” Jin prompted. “Did something happen?”

You paused, debating. Jin was probably the best person to help you help Yoongi. You sighed, deciding to ask him about what Yoongi had said.

“He was waiting for me to give him permission to eat…” you said, shifting uncomfortably. “I told him that he never has to ask something like that, that he’s a guest. But that seemed to make him even more nervous?”

You met Jin’s eyes again and found a grimace on his face.

“Just be patient. It sounds like he wasn’t very used to kindness where he was before,” he said vaguely.

“Where he was before? Do you know something? Please, I just want to know how to help him.”

“I think I know places like it.” He shuddered. “Look, if he wants to talk about it I’m sure he’ll come to you. For now just keep an eye on him. Hoseok seemed shaken after he treated his wounds last night. He’s seen lots of cases like this at the shelter… Is there something else going on with Yoongi? Something you haven’t told me?”

You pulled your knees up to your chest, tucking in your chin. You thought of what Hoseok said about the scars he saw; some from others, some probably self-inflicted. You found your eyes tearing up again, but quickly shook off the feeling.

“It’s not really my place to say. I already feel like I’m already sharing a lot of his personal information with you. I don’t want to break his trust,” you said, blinking rapidly to clear your eyes.

“I understand.” Jin nodded. He ruffled your hair. “Just promise that you’ll tell me if you need help. You or Yoongi.”

He pinned you with a stern look and held your gaze until you nodded. He smiled approvingly.

“I better get going so he can come out.”

You walked him to the door, and he turned to wrap you in a tight hug.

“I know you’ve gotta be strong for him, he needs you. But don’t forget that the boys and I, and your lil’ bro, we’re here to be strong for you,” he said. You nodded against his chest, squeezing him tightly before pulling away. Jin waved goodbye and crept down the sidewalk toward his car, stepping gingerly to avoid slipping on the ice.

You turned around and nearly jumped out of your skin when you found Yoongi peeking out of your bedroom.

“Geez, you scared me!” you exclaimed, making his ears twitch before they flattened remorsefully against his head.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, Yoongi. I’m not upset with you,” you reassured him gently, cursing yourself for reacting harshly in the first place. You held out the bag Jin had left to him. “My friend brought you a change of clothes. Hopefully they’ll fit you better than those pajamas.”

“That’s not necessary.” He tried to wave the bag away. “I can just wear my old stuff now that it’s dry.”

“Your old stuff got pretty messed up last night, Yoongi. I have to run to the store so I was going to see if you wanted to come along. We can pick up some things for you there,” you said. He looked at you blankly for a moment before looking away. He seemed to hunch in on himself again. You took a step forward, alarmed by his sudden change in demeanor.

“Why are you doing this?” he said quietly.

“What?” you asked, not sure you heard him right.

“Look, I appreciate you patching me up, but I’m not looking for a new owner.”

You blinked, horrified that he thought that of you.

“Yoongi, I’m not trying to own you. If Jin or Hobi were having a hard time, I’d help them. I’m your friend, Yoongi. Or at least I’d like to be. I take care of my friends.”

“I won’t just mooch off of you, Yeoji-ssi. I can take care of myself,” he argued.

“Why don’t I give you a job then?” you suggested. “I have two other part-timers at the shop, but with Kookie starting uni this spring and Jimin taking more time off for dance, I could use the extra help. You can earn your keep.”

“But I can’t just have you buy me stuff,” he said, still hesitant.

“Just think of it as an advance. You can keep all the receipts if it makes you more comfortable. Then you can pay me back when you’re able to.”

He pondered your offer for a moment, scanning your face. “Are you sure you aren’t… uncomfortable? Having me here, I mean?” he asked, scuffing his sock-bundled toes on the hardwood.

“Actually, I realized this morning how nice it is to have someone around.”

His ears twitched as he considered, before agreeing with a small nod. You smiled, relieved that he wasn’t set on running off at any moment.

“Why don’t you go get changed? Then I’ll get ready and we can head to the store.” He nodded again, taking the bag from you and heading to the bathroom to get dressed.

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By the time you and Yoongi left the house it was mid-afternoon. Yoongi wasn’t thrilled with the pastel blue hoodie that Jimin had loaned him, but the clothes definitely fit him better than Jin’s had. At least the hems of his jeans weren’t dragging in the snow, and the boots were keeping him warm. Jin had also supplied a cozy puffy coat which made Yoongi look even more soft and cuddly than usual. He topped off the look with his trusty beanie, which you didn’t question.

You walked to the garage where you parked your car, humming softly as you appreciated the fresh fallen snow preserved on the tops of flower pots and inside the tiny fenced yards that lined the front of the apartment buildings on your block. You glanced into the alley, checking for cars before crossing, and images from the night before flashed before you. You pushed them away and hurried onward, grabbing Yoongi’s sleeve to tug him along with you.

The garage was relatively empty; only a few people venturing out on a cold, sleepy Sunday afternoon. The sunshine was deceptive, as the cold wind still stung your cheeks. You stuffed your hands in your coat pockets, cold despite your gloves and many layers.

When you got in the car you pulled out your phone and opened up your shopping list before handing it to Yoongi.

“Can you help me write a list on the way?”

He nodded.

“Great. Do you have a favorite food? Anything in particular you want to get?” you asked.

“Anything is fine.”

“Yoongi,” you whined, nudging him with your shoulder. “I’m serious. I’m not picky, and I hate making decisions. You’d be doing me a favor.”

He thought for a long moment before answering. “Meat.”

You stared at him blankly. “That’s it? That’s all I have to work with? Come on, give me something more specific.”

“I like steak, and bulgogi, and japchae when you add lots of beef. Samgyeopsal is good too. And the bacon we had this morning…” He continued to list dishes, and you nodded, humming appreciatively when he mentioned one of your favorites. Once he finished he had a solid list. You chuckled, looking at him fondly. You certainly wouldn’t run out of meal ideas.

The shopping center came into view, and soon enough you were headed inside. The large building contained a wide variety of stores, selling clothing, technology, furniture, and groceries, as well as several restaurants and services. Jin’s shelter was just down the road, which was part of the reason you frequented that particular mall.

“Alright, let’s pick up some essentials for you first,” you said. “Any particular store you’d like to try?”

Yoongi shook his head no, looking around curiously. A group of women walked by, laughing and chatting loudly. You stepped aside and found that Yoongi had moved closer, almost hiding behind you. You scanned his face, noting his slight frown and the ways his eyes were glued to his shoes. He glanced up to meet your eyes and you flashed him a bright smile.

“Let’s start over here.” You grabbed his sleeve and started guiding him to a shop in the opposite direction of where the women had gone. The store you entered was one of your favorites: not terribly expensive, but the quality was good, and their clothes weren’t outlandish or uncomfortable, which seemed to be in style most places. 

Yoongi wandered between the racks of clothing throwing socks and underwear in the basket without even really looking. Then he wandered into the racks off toward the tops browsing the styles.

“What would you like me to wear?” he asked you absently. You blinked, cringing at the implication.

“Whatever you want to, Yoongi. You don’t have to check with me,” you said, trying to mask your reaction. Just what kind of life had he been living? He looked up at you and nodded seriously.

“Okay, can I still ask what you think of things though?”

“Of course! Do you see anything you like?”

He took his time pulling out sweaters and long-sleeved t-shirts usually in black or white. He held each up to you in turn, asking your thoughts. You tried to read his expressions so you could be enthusiastic about the things he liked most, but he kept his face neutral, carefully observing your reactions. 

After the first couple items he picked you started to notice that while his face stayed blank, his ears were a little more expressive. They twitched forward happily when he seemed to like something, but flicked sideways and flattened when he was uncertain. You tried to hide a pleased grin at this new information, nodding enthusiastically when he held up one he liked. Once he had a modest pile of shirts and sweaters he grabbed a couple pairs of jeans.

“Do you want to try those on first?” you asked, noticing how he held them up uncertainly.

“Yeah, that might be good. I’m not sure if these will fit with my tail.” He headed toward the fitting rooms. You browsed the coats while you waited for him, pulling a couple things off the rack that you thought might suit his taste.

He reemerged with a couple pairs of jeans to add to the basket.

“Do you like any of these?” You held out the coats you’d picked. He looked at them in turn, pausing when he found one that he seemed to like.

“This one is cool,” he mumbled, his voice more of a low growl. The sound made you feel oddly warm and calm, and you couldn’t help but smile at him as he squished the puffy material. “Feels cozy.” He confirmed with an approving nod. You giggled, happy to see him enjoying himself. He graced you with an adorable smile in return.

 You made your way to the checkout, Yoongi picking up a couple of beanies on the way. He shifted anxiously on his feet behind you as the cashier rang up your purchases. You felt him peering over your shoulder as the total climbed, and when you went to swipe your card, he stopped you.

“Yeoji-ssi, this is too much. Let’s put some of this back.”

“Absolutely not,” you said, not giving him room to argue as you swiped the card. “I already saw you put back several things that I know you liked. Besides, Jin said you can keep the boots, so that’s one less expense.”

“But-” he started to protest again. “Yoongi.” You stopped him softly and took his hand. “I’m making up a rule for just today. No stressing about money for today. Please, I want to do this for you.”

He relented, grabbing the bags as you took the receipt.

“I’ll give you the receipts tomorrow, and we can talk about your wages at the shop then, okay?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. He was quiet for a moment, before he spoke again. “I’m sorry for arguing with you. I’ll listen better from now on.”

“I don’t want you to listen to me Yoongi, I just want you to let me do things for you sometimes. But please tell me if you ever feel like I’m ordering you around. That’s the last thing I want.”

“Thanks.”

You turned to him and smiled. “Thank you for trusting me.”

On the way to the grocery store you stopped to buy Yoongi a phone, since his old one was trashed.

“I’m sorry it’s nothing fancy, I just got you the same model as mine.”

“Nah, this is super nice. My old one was just something I bought off of some guys I hung around with. You can actually get games and stuff on this, and the screen isn’t cracked!” he said, holding up the phone cheerfully and giving you a blindingly sweet smile. You laughed and reached up to ruffle his hair, like you would with the other boys. He stiffened and flinched away from your hand and you recoiled, realizing what you’d done.

“Oh crap, I’m sorry Yoongi! I didn’t mean to touch you without asking,” you said quickly, holding your hands out in front of you.

“It’s alright.” He tried to reassure you, gently grabbing your hands in one of his. “It’s just a reflex. I know you aren’t gonna hit me or anything.” He glanced awkwardly away from you, but didn’t let go of your hand.

“Are you sure? You have to promise that you’ll tell me if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

“I promise. I trust you, Yeoji-ssi,” he said with an almost shy smile.

“So, is this okay?” you ask, clasping his hand in yours as you walked together. “The boys like to hold hands when we go out.”

He nodded, adjusting his grip on the bags in his free hand. You continued on to the grocery store in comfortable silence, swinging your linked hands between you. 

You were forced to let go when you entered the grocery store so you could get a shopping cart. Yoongi placed his shopping bags in the cart before offering to push the cart for you. You happily accepted so you could focus on your list. The store was thankfully pretty empty since you’d come at an odd hour, so you were able to grab the items you needed quickly.

You found yourself observing Yoongi as he observed everything else. He seemed fascinated by the wide variety of foods available, asking the purpose of items here and there. You weren’t a particularly skilled cook, but you answered him the best you could. When he seemed particularly interested in an item, you casually added it to your cart, acting as if it had been on your list the whole time. If he noticed, he chose not to comment. The cart was getting rather full, and he walked a little quicker to catch up with you.

“Yeoji-ssi, do you usually buy this much? You’re not spending a lot of extra money because of me, right?” His brow furrowed, clearly concerned.

“Are you kidding? I have six boys in and out of my house all week. I can hardly keep my kitchen stocked,” you said with a laugh. Was that a bit of an exaggeration? Yes. Would you still use it as an excuse to buy Yoongi as much food as he could possibly eat? Absolutely. Your heart hurt at how skinny he was, noticeable even in his fluffy winter clothes.

Once you were satisfied with your heaping cart of provisions you headed to the checkout. As the total climbed you tried to keep a straight face and swipe your card without hesitation. The cafe was busy lately, you could manage this. Especially with an extra part timer and the festival starting tomorrow.

Yoongi walked with a spring in his step, pushing the cart toward your car. You heard a car approaching so you slowed your pace as you approached a corner. As you leaned to peek around and check, a white car whipped around the corner, cutting close to the beam you stood by and moving fast. Yoongi sprang forward, yanking you back by your coat. You fell, causing both of you to crash into the concrete wall. Yoongi grunted, glaring up at the car as it sped away. His grip on you tightened, and you pushed gently on his chest so you could get a look at his face.

“Oh my god! Yoongi, are you okay?” you asked, frantically checking him over as best you could. His arms still wrapped tightly around you, pinning you to his chest as he stared blankly after the car.

“Yoongi? Yoon, are you okay?” you asked again when you didn’t get a response. You gently put a hand on his cheek to turn him to look at you.

“Huh?” he said, his expression almost distant. He blinked, then seemed to refocus on you. “Yeah, I just thought I recognized the driver. No big deal.”

He looked around and his eyes widened. He released you darting off down the slope after the shopping cart. He caught up to it just before it slammed into the only other car on the level. You watched him as he returned. Though he kept his head down, his eyes kept darting around, searching for potential threats. He was panting, winded from the short run because of his still healing injuries. Once he reached you you slipped your arm around his, giving what you hoped was a reassuring squeeze. You smiled up at him, and he returned it, though it didn’t seem to reach his eyes. 

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As soon as you’d hauled the groceries back and put them away you started preparing dinner. As per Yoongi’s request you were having steak and some vegetables you roasted in the oven. Yoongi had gathered his papers, which were still scattered on every available surface, then hurried off to the bedroom to put away his clothes. He seemed touched that you’d emptied a drawer in your large dresser for him.

Left alone in the kitchen, you thought about the incident in the parking garage. Who would Yoongi have recognized? It was unlikely that the driver was another hybrid, since they couldn’t get a driver’s licence. You thought of his scars. What if it had been a former owner? One of the people who hurt him? You shuddered. Anger welled up in you as you clutched the pan handle in your fist. They could’ve recognized him. They might try to take him back. Frustrated tears welled up in your eyes. Would you be able to protect him if they did?

“Yeoji-ssi,” Yoongi called. You turned to face him, finding him delightfully cozy. You forced yourself to push aside your worries for a moment and be happy with him. He wore that gummy smile you were quickly coming to love, clearly pleased with his new clothes. He wore baggy sweatpants and a fluffy black sweater. You noted with delight that he was also sporting a pair of fuzzy white socks that you hadn’t even seen him pick up.

“You look very cozy,” you said, returning his smile.

“Don’t laugh! My feet get cold,” he pouted. Wow, this boy was trying to melt you into a puddle on the floor.

“No, I mean it!” You laughed. “My feet get cold too.”

“Actually,” he said, shuffling closer to you. “There were two pairs. If you want one, I mean.” He held out a pair of sunshine yellow socks, like his. If he’d been looking you in the eye he would’ve seen hearts shooting out of them. Every minute with him just confirmed that you would do anything to keep this boy safe.

“Thank you, Yoongi! That is so sweet of you,” you said. You ruffled his hair, then put them on right away.

“I know you technically paid for them. But I’m paying you back for everything soon, so just think of it as an advance gift,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Ah, right. Why don’t we talk more about that while we eat?” You took the dishes of food to the table. “Can you grab us silverware? It’s in that third drawer.” He quickly grabbed forks and knives and joined you. You settled in and gave him a while to enjoy the food before you started talking.

“So, you’re okay with working at the cafe?” you asked.

He nodded, mouth still full of food. You smiled, glad to see him eating happily.

“In that case, I’ll show you around tomorrow. Jungkook works tomorrow, so he can help you figure things out. He’s a rabbit hybrid.”

Yoongi seemed to tense at the mention of a new person.

“He’s like my baby brother,” you continued. “My little brother Namjoon and I took him in right around when I finished college. He was about fourteen then. He’s really shy, but I think the two of you will get along.” Talking about your little brothers reminded you of something else.

“By the way, how old are you?”

“I was born in ‘93,” he said.

“Ah, so you’re hyung to everyone but Jinnie! Feel free to boss the kids around a bit,” you joked. “And you can call me noona, if you want. No need to be so formal.”

He nodded obediently. You took in his reaction before adding.

“Unless you are more comfortable calling me by my name! Whatever you pre-”

“No, I like that. Calling you noona, I mean.”

You did your best to hide the goofy smile he brought to your face. “You want seconds?” you offered, already getting up to refill his plate.

“I’m okay.”

“Are you sure you can’t eat more?”

“I mean, not that I can’t,” he conceded.

“You need to eat more, Yoongi. You’re too thin. Remember Hoseok, the doctor that treated you? He said you need to put on some weight. Do you think you could eat a little more, please?” you asked, trying your best to hit him with some puppy-dog eyes, which you learned from Jimin, ironically.

“Okay. Not too much, okay?”

“Right! I don’t want you to get sick,” you assured him.

You filled his plate and sat with him until he ate his fill.

“I’ll get the receipts together for you in the morning. I pay my other part-timers $**.** and hour, does that sound fair?” you asked. 

His eyes went wide. “That much? Even with their owners getting a cut, that’s a lot for a hybrid,” he marvelled. 

You frowned. “Owners getting a cut? Yoongi, that’s not how it works with us. That money is theirs. They earned it. Jungkook decided he wanted to earn his spending money while he goes to school. And Jimin started paying for his own dance classes when he turned eighteen. But neither Namjoon or Jin would take their money from them.” You reached across the table to take Yoongi’s hand. “They’re family, so they take care of each other. That’s all I’m trying to do for you here. The odds are stacked against you, and you’ve been through more than anyone deserves. I just want you to know I’m in your corner, and you have a family now, if you want it.”

You finished and caught your breath. You hadn’t really planned on making a speech, but you needed him to know where he stood, and how you felt about everything. You looked at him, waiting for a response, but he just kept his eyes focused on where your hands held his on the table between you. Anxiety rose in your stomach. You’d made him uncomfortable. Now he probably wanted to leave. Why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut? 

You loosened your grip on his hands, prepared to let go and give him some space but his fingers tightened around yours. You lowered your head a bit, trying to get a look at his face which was hidden by his bangs. You were about to say something when he finally spoke.

“Thank you, noona.” His voice trembled and he squeezed your hands tighter. After a moment he looked up, eyes shiny, and found tears already streaming down your cheeks. You met his eyes and smiled, taking a moment to gather yourself.

“Movie?” you suggested. 

He nodded happily, releasing your hands and heading to the couch. You dabbed at your face with your sleeves before joining him. He’d already grabbed a blanket and curled up, making himself impossibly small. You grabbed the remote and started flicking through netflix. There was a new original movie out which promised to be painfully cheesy.

“You up for a rom-com-cringe-fest?” you asked, looking over at Yoongi. 

His feline eyes scanned the synopsis curiously. “I haven’t seen a lot of movies, so I’m sure it’ll be interesting.”

That simple statement saddened you, reminding you of how many things had been taken from him. He must’ve sensed the shift in your mood, because his ears flattened a little in nervousness. You flashed him a smile.

“That’s one way to describe it. Let’s give it a shot!” you said, pressing play. As the opening credits rolled you glanced over at Yoongi, who was shuffling to find a comfy position. 

“Can I-” you started, then stopped yourself. He looked at you, ears perked, giving you his full attention. When you didn’t answer he made a low, rumbling ‘hm?’ sound in his throat.

“I was just thinking, when I watch movies with Jungkook and the other boys- Well, Jimin is a cat hybrid and he likes when I play with his hair and pet his ears…” you trailed off, trying to gage his reaction. He blinked. You’d caught him off guard. The brief silence made you nervous, so you quickly tried to take it back.

“Is that weird? Dammit I’m sorry I keep doing that-” You were interrupted when Yoongi’s head settled in your lap with a soft thud. He pulled the blanket over with him, tucking it around your legs as he settled. You smiled, not speaking any further as you gently ran your fingers through his dark hair, smoothing it away from his face. You scratched at the base of his ears, and quickly started hearing an unmistakable rumble. Yoongi tensed, and you could see his face grow red in the light of the TV.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it. You can stop if you want,” he said, hiding his face in the blanket on your lap.

“Actually, it’s nice. I love purrs. You know they’re healing? Cats don’t just purr because they’re happy. They do it to comfort their sick or scared friends. At least that’s what Jimin told me. So I feel special when one of my friends purrs around me,” you assured him, continuing to pet his hair. He glanced up at you, a small smile playing on his lips as he nodded and returned his attention to the movie.

He barely made it past the ten minute mark. You quickly found yourself watching the movie alone, Yoongi’s adorable blend of purring and quiet snores making an oddly peaceful background noise. You yourself soldiered on for forty more minutes before also falling asleep.

[perditaalottachocolate-blog]

Caterwauling in the Rain

Summary: Marinette and Adrien share their very first kiss after their very first date. Chat is so overjoyed he’s ready to burst into song, albeit not all Parisians share the sentiment. Ladybug comes to investigate the complaints about a feline caterwauling in the spring rain. Luckily, it’s just her very wet boyfriend. A Miraculous Writer Zine​ story.

A/N: This is my piece for @mlwriterzine . I’m so happy I can finally share it! I feel honored to be among the chosen authors. I want to thank everyone, who made this zine possible, it was an amazing adventure! Make sure to read works in the zine collection, they're all a m a z i n g !

AO3

The whisper of wind in his ears, the tap of boots on the tin roofs, the pigeons nesting among the chimneys, cooing to the spring in his step. Chat Noir ran high over the streets, reveling in this late April evening, basking in the fading light of day. 

 Everything in his path was blooming recklessly, fueled by sunshine, turning the warmth of spring into an opulent palette of greens, whites, yellows, pinks, and every other color one could think of.

 It wouldn’t have been far from the truth if Chat claimed he floated on the breeze. It certainly felt like it. Butterflies, the good kind, not the evil purple ones that’d been giving them so much grief, fluttered happily in his stomach. His chest swelled with affection as if it tried to contain all the smells and scents at once.

 His heart was so full he was ready to burst into song any second now. And snugly pressed to his chest was none other than the bravest, prettiest, awesomest, and the most amazing girl he knew. The love of his life, sans the spots. Marinette Dupain-Cheng. His Lady. His girlfriend. His everything. 

Her hair tickled the exposed skin under his chin, but he was too focused on carrying his precious cargo to utter a chuckle. It was her who giggled happily instead. 

 “I really could have gotten home myself, silly Kitty,” she murmured to his sternum. Only his enhanced hearing allowed him to pick up the words over the rush of air and the buzz of traffic. 

 “A gentlecat always walks the lady home after a date,” he countered, allowing a little bit of flirt to seep into his voice.

 A date! he thought excitedly, his heart skipping a few beats. The very first real one, official and everything. Not that anyone paid attention to two goofy teens sharing an ice cream, walking down the banks of the Seine and doing all the carefree, silly things teens did. Bantering, picking flowers, playing tag just because. Holding hands, stealing glances, blushing. Basically half of Adrien’s bucket list went down on that date, more than he could ever hope for. It was still very fresh—the romantic side of their relationship, just like nature herself, coming to life with spring—yet he doubted the excitement of enjoying her company on both sides of their masks would ever ebb.

 Alas, their time had run out all too quickly. For unfathomable reasons their parents set a curfew and warned them not to break it. Yet Adrien refused to leave Marinette to return home by herself. He announced his arrival at the mansion, claiming he was exhausted after a busy day, and dashed off to his room. The door barely had time to close behind him when Chat Noir was already leaping through the window. He scooped Marinette into his arms and vaulted them high and away from the prying eyes of pedestrians. Just a little run and they were already on the little balcony of 12 Rue Gotlib.

 It wasn’t dusk yet, although darkness already settled over the city thanks to the rain clouds that flocked from the west, keeping the last rays of spring sun to themselves. A silver half-moon peeked tentatively over the rooftops, picking up the slack. 

 Unexpectedly the sight filled him with nostalgia. “Anything can happen at half-moon,” Chat recited absently. He didn’t remember where he’d heard the verse. 

 “Anything?” Marinette frowned in confusion. After all, they had just spent a delightful afternoon together. Why would his mood turn wistful so suddenly?

 He decided to play it off. He grinned cheekily. “Like maybe … a kiss?” 

 He was pushing his luck, he knew. They hadn’t reached that milestone yet, still tiptoeing around each other after the accidental reveal, still testing the waters, although neither of them was oblivious to the other’s feelings anymore. 

 To his astonishment Marinette fixed him with a coy smile and threw her hands around his neck. She climbed to her toes. “Maybe,” she whispered, her lips a hairbreadth away from his. Her eyes twinkled in the moonlight. 

 Chat released a ragged breath against her mouth. He shuddered from head to toe as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against him. His body screamed for her, longed for her presence. But he wouldn’t dare to make the first step. He always followed her lead. He had to be sure it was what she wanted, even if he knew it wasn’t in her nature to tease him like this. 

 And then Marinette was kissing him. Sweetly, tenderly, with just a hint of passion simmering underneath. The gentle caress shrunk his world to just her and this moment.

 He was sure he died, his heart flatlining out of sheer euphoria, his neurons fried from overjoy, his body coming apart at the seams. He floated to heaven and then her kisses brought him back to life. Back to the warmth of her embrace, to the flowery scent of her skin, and to soft kisses he knew he would never have enough of.

 All too soon she withdrew, leaving his lips tingling and cold. He stumbled, dizzy with love in his heart and springtime in his lungs. 

 She must have thought he was being dramatic, because she ruffled his already wild mane.

 “Goof,” she giggled. “Go home, before you catch a cold.”

 “A cold?” He knitted his brows. “Why would I catch a cold now?”

 “It’s raining, you dork.” Marinette bopped him on the nose and turned her hands up. A few plump droplets splashed on her palm.

 Huh? How long did that kiss take? He hadn’t noticed when the rain started. Either those clouds had been moving faster than he’d thought, or he might have been more distracted than usual. Lately he tended to get tunnel vision in Marinette’s company, tuning out everyone and everything while soaking in her presence. 

 From behind the deck chair Marinette produced a black umbrella. She pressed it into his claws. “This is no dew, Kitty. It’s going to pour heavily soon.”

 “Really?” He chuckled. She walked straight into this one. “I’m purring already, my Lady.” He grabbed her hand and put it to his chest. Then he released a rumble worthy of a thunderstorm.

 “Besides, where I stand, the sun is shining all over the place.” He dropped the cheesy line with a flourish.

 “See, you’re already delirious,” Marinette replied matter-of-factly. “Also, yes, I’m very proud of you for getting the ‘Singing in the Rain’ reference, you dorkasaurus,” she added, seeing his pout of indignation. “Now go, before you get wet for real.”

 “Didn’t you mean furrrrr real?” he started, but dropped it immediately when she set him with one of Ladybug’s finest glowers. “A kiss good night, purrrhaps?” he asked hopefully.

 Marinette grabbed him by the bell with such force, his hand slipped on the umbrella’s handle. She pressed her lips to his, but with more fire than sugar this time. 

 Snap! The black canopy sprang to its full size, startling them both.

 ���Sorry! Sorry!” Chat exclaimed, but Marinette just shook her head, launching into a fit of laughter. It was impossible not to join her.

 “This umbrella is absolutely terrible,” she wheezed, clutching at her belly. “The ultimate killjoy.”

 “You mean this is …” He trailed off, finally giving the umbrella a thorough look. Sure enough, he soon found the loopy ‘Agreste’ carved into the handle. “Oh, wow,” he whispered reverently. Marinette had mentioned the significance of that first rain they’d experienced together.

 “Yup. And I want it back, mind you,” she added. 

 “This is an Agreste umbrella. You’d need to marry me for the name to check out, Princess.” Chat shot her with a toothy grin.

 “Did you just propose on the first date, Adrien?” She raised a brow. “You might want to save something for the second one.”

 “Ooops.” He feigned a horrified gasp. Incidentally, that absolutely had been on his bucket list. This was Marinette after all. “I’m gonna have to google some new ideas. But anyway, your answer would be …?”

 Marinette shook her head again and thrusted her hand into his face. “You’re impossible. Just go home already before we both catch a cold.”

 Right. He hadn’t noticed her shivering in the cold evening breeze, and the rain probably wasn’t helping. 

 “As you wish, m’Lady.” He bowed. “See you tomorrow?”

 “Tomorrow it is, my Prince,” she replied with a curtsy, raising the imaginary fabric of a long dress with her fingers. Then with one last playful wink, she disappeared through the skylight. 

 Chat sighed in contentment, drawing in the chilly, humid air. He didn’t feel even a little bit tired, more like ignited after the spectacular afternoon of romance, flirting, and banter. He leaped to the railing and elongated his baton so that it hit the pavement. Then, like a leather-clad Mary Poppins, he floated down, startling a few passersby. 

 “Du-dudu-du, du-du-dudu-dee-dudu,” he hummed under his breath, setting into a leisurely stroll. The rain picked up a heavier rhythm, just like Marinette predicted. 

 “Du-dudu-du, du-du-dudu-dee-dudu.” He continued letting his inner Gene Kelly come out and play. He always wanted to perform that song, ever since he’d watched the movie with his father ages ago. And what better place to do so than the Parisian streets, a classy background to the classic number?

 He already felt the tune bubbling in his throat. He couldn’t contain it any longer even if he tried. With a theatrical shrug he folded the umbrella and propped it against his shoulder. His lips stretched into a dreamy smile when he set off again. Then came the song.

 “I'm siiiingin' in the rain, just siiiiiingin' in the rain.” His voice carried over the street, earning him a few confused glances. He gave his audience a little wink. 

 “What a gloooorious feeling, I'm haaaaaappy again,” he claimed, jumping onto a lampost. “I'm laughing at clouds. So daaaark up above. The sun's in my heart ...” Chat’s smile turned into something more smitten as he gazed upon a certain balcony looming in the distance, “… and I'm reeeeeady for loooove.”

 “Let the stoooormy clouds chase everyone from the place.” He waved at a couple making their way through the rain, hiding under an already-soaked newspaper. They chuckled at his antics and clapped, rewarding his performance. 

 Encouraged, Chat turned his face to the sky while throwing his arms to the sides in a truly musical fashion. “Come on with the rain! I've a smile on my face!” 

 He resumed his walk, nonchalantly swinging the umbrella in large circles. “I walk down the lane, with a haaaaaaaappy refrain. Just singing, singing iiiiiiiin the rain.”

 Chat spotted a few phones aimed at him and chuckled inwardly. People always looked for a scoop. Alya was going to be so angry she missed this. He could almost hear her gritting her teeth. Let's give them a show, he thought as his feet carried out the routine, a mix of waltz and tap dancing. 

 “Daaaaaancing in the rain,” he howled. “La-daaaa-da-da-di-daaaaAAA. I'm happy again.” He grabbed the umbrella as if it were a ukulele and struck a chord, making an elated face, as if he were Luka’s more handsome twin. “I'm singin' and dancing in the rain.”

 More tap dancing followed. Chat finally found a way to release all the pent-up energy that had come from the afternoon spent with the love of his life. He tapped, he stepped, he pirouetted, for his joy and for the entertainment of a significant crowd that had gathered to witness his performance. The umbrella was his partner, his pendulum, his microphone and staff. Oh, how versatile a prop this was! Chat leaped like a very wet ballerina, jumped over the puddles or right into them, frolicking in a totally unfeline manner, splashing the water onto himself and all around. A reckless, unstoppable dancing and singing machine.

 Slosh! A wall of cold water washed over him, effectively ending the show. He wiped the liquid from his eyes only to see a very familiar red-clad figure holding a polka-dotted bucket, which must have been the source of his unexpected and involuntary shower. 

 Concern marred Ladybug’s face. She breathed heavily—she must have been running fast to get here. But why did she have to be such a … what had Marinette said? Ah, an ultimate killjoy.

 “Why did you go and do that?” he complained, frowning in accusation. Water dripped from his soaked hair right into his ears. Both pairs. 

 Ladybug narrowed her eyes at him. “The neighbors were complaining about some caterwauling felines and I decided to investigate in case there was an akuma,” she said. 

 Chat shook his head, trying to get rid of the ear leak. “Well, was there?”

 His partner raised a brow and smirked, taking in his drenched form.

 “Oh.” It suddenly dawned on Chat that maybe performing a musical number in a city regularly haunted by mind-controlling villains wasn’t the best of ideas. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly, then shivered. “I’m cold,” he added.

 “Awww, poor kitty,” Ladybug cooed. She relaxed her shoulders, no longer alert. “I need to take you home.” She tangled her yo-yo around a chimney, grabbed him at the waist and in the next moment they were already soaring over the streets. 

 She stopped on a roof a block away from the mansion. Her timing was perfect, as usual.

 “AAAACHOOOOO!” Chat’s sneeze was so powerful Plagg flew out of the ring, taking the leather suit with him. The little kwami didn’t look happy in the least. 

 “Awww, shucks.” Adrien trembled. “Now it’s even colder.”

 “You don’t say,” Plagg grumbled. He was dripping wet. 

 Ladybug sighed in disbelief. She scooped the sprite into her hand and hid him in her pigtail. Then she proceeded to lift Adrien princess style and set off in the direction of his house. Unseen and undetected by the mansion’s security system, she slipped through the bathroom window and into the warmth of his room. 

 A true hero, the epitome of helpfulness, she grabbed a blanket from the bed and wrapped him tight. Then, with a towel she had taken from the bathroom, she gave Plagg the same treatment. 

 “I’m gonna leave you to change and go to sleep,” she finally declared. “No more clowning!” She pointed a finger at Adrien.

 He gave her an innocent blink. Alas, Ladybug seemed to be immune to his charm. Or maybe it was just late for her. After all he had caused her to leave the dry room and investigate an alleged akuma attack. He decided to step up his game.

 “Maybe a good-night kiss?” He fluttered his golden lashes hopefully. That always got a nice fluster out of Marinette. 

 “Haven’t you gotten like two already?” she frowned.

 “Nuh-uh, that was Chat. Adrien didn’t get any,” he complained. “Besides”—he fixed her with the delightful smile of a teenage heartthrob, his voice lowering to a murmur—“three is the charm, as Lady Luck should be perfectly aware.”

 Ladybug tapped her lip thoughtfully. “Well,” she drawled, stepping closer, “you do make a compelling argument …” Then she closed the space between them.

 Meowrrr, the cat in him uttered. Three was definitely the charm.

 - The End - 

[maggies-scribblings]

2) "How long have you been standing there?" If you're willing, I'm thinking this would be interesting with Marichat post season 3. 😊

“How long have you been standing there?”

Of all the responsibilities Marinette inherited as Guardian, that cursed Grimoire was by far her biggest headache.

Well, Master Fu did leave a USB drive with the scanned pages of the sacred book, and a password-protected file with all the discoveries he’d made with her help: the power-up potion recipes, the story of how the Miraculous came to be, the descriptions of each jewel’s powers…

Unfortunately, his work was left incomplete by his forced retirement, leaving Marinette to painstakingly decipher almost everything Master Fu could not. However, there was still a very important part that eluded her after four years — the ritual that had to be performed in order to summon The Wish. Not because she wanted to use it, rather to be able to identify any peculiar ingredients or locations she could use to trace Hawkmoth.

The cypher on this section was even more complex than the rest: not only were the glyphs more intricate, the illustrations were so bizarre she couldn’t tell whether they were allegorical or instructional.

It was a race against Hawkmoth, who had recently cracked the code on the copy he had stolen from Master Fu. This had been evident a few months ago, when a fire-powered Mayura, together with a flaming akumatized villain, had attacked an old theatre full of people attending a concert.

Repeatedly, Hawkmoth had shown to be playing around with the power-ups, prompting Ladybug to keep a stockpile of potions so that everyone in Team Miraculous could use them in an emergency.

Approaching the subject as methodically as her chaotic life allowed, Marinette reserved her Wednesday nights to work on the Grimoire. On this beautiful evening, she decided to move the studies to her balcony, reclining on her lounge chair. At least her muscles could relax a little. Her nerves? Not so much…

“Goddamn mystical book!”

She was holding the tablet on one hand and taking notes on the notebook on her lap with the other. She’d been on this very page for weeks, with no progress.

“Aaaah!” Marinette screamed, “are you sure you can’t help me, Tikki?”

“I’m sorry, Marinette,” the little god replied from her favourite flower pot. “You know us kwamis can’t know the secrets of the book.”

Another few minutes passed in silence, before Marinette let out a frustrated huff, slamming her stuff down on the reel that served as coffee-table.

“I give up! I will never break the stupid magic code on the stupid magic book.”

“Is everything okay here?” A familiar voice asked, quizzically.

Looking for the source of the voice, Marinette yelped as she spotted the unexpected visitor, perched on the wall just behind her.

“How long have you been standing there?” she asked, as she tried (and failed) to conceal her reading materials.

“I heard a scream,” Chat Noir replied evasively, “I simply wanted to check on my favourite civilian. After all, this city is littered with danger!”

“Oh. I didn’t realise I was so loud.” Marinette blushed in embarrassment. “Sorry to alarm you. I was just having trouble with some homework.”

“Can I help you?” he plopped down beside her. “My wits are as sharp as my claws.”

Marinette snorted involuntarily, only to try and cover it up with a fake cough.

“No, thank you. It’s… kinda personal.”

The notebook with some of the symbols she’d copied was still visible, despite Marinette’s attempts to hide it. She watched in panic as his eyes landed on it, head tilted sideways in curiosity.

“Oh, I recognize some of those characters.” Before Marinette could swipe it from view, he picked it up.

“Hey, that’s priva— wait… you know these symbols?”

“Not exactly… Why are you writing this?”

“Oh! It’s a—a…” Marinette scrambled to find an excuse. “It’s copied from an old document, from my mother’s side of the family. I don’t even know what it is.”

“They look like Thai characters, only… in an ancient form…”

“Thai? You know Thai!?”

“Oh… I’ve been there for— for work. I saw something similar to this in an old museum.”

Reluctantly, she allowed him to see the rest of her notes. She was pushing her luck, really. Then again, Chat Noir had never seen the Grimoire, had he? And who knew, maybe he could help.

He flipped through the pages, studying the copied symbols intently.

“These drawings, though... they don’t look like anything I’ve seen before… except…”

Marinette noticed the change in his countenance, from curious excitement to perplexed recognition. “Uh-oh!”

“Oh, never mind, then.” She forced a laugh and waved dismissively, trying to pry the notebook from his claws. “It’s probably an old recipe or something like that.”

“Where did you say you got this?” Was his voice actually trembling?

“My—my mother’s uncle— great-uncle. He’s no longer around.”

“Not around, huh?” Marinette felt the way he was studying her face. “You mean he died?”

“N—no… he— retired.” Even with the risk of discovery, she couldn’t bring herself to lie. “A—abroad.”

“Hmm…” he mumbled again, flipping the pages of the notebook until he found a particular figure. “This one certainly rings a bell.”

He showed her the pages where she had reproduced the diagram of the wish. “Crap, I forgot I had doodled that!”

“You’ve seen that image before?” she gulped nervously.

“Just once, briefly. In a book I borrowed from my father then lost.”

“You? Y-you borrowed then lost it?”

“Hmm-hmm. It was mysteriously returned a few days later. My father never told me who found it.”

“And this book… belonged to your father?”

“It was a present from my mother. He was very upset about me losing it.”

“Upset?” Marinette was barely able to speak coherently, the way her head was spinning.

“Yes. So upset he was— never mind.”

Chat Noir put the notes down on the table, the movement lighting up the tablet screen Marinette had forgotten to lock.

It was impossible not to see the scanned page, complete with balloon notes and the title “Miraculous Spellbook Translation — V.2.34”. Marinette smacked her own forehead. “Why didn’t I lock the screen? Why didn’t I change the name of the file?”

She couldn’t stop him from picking up the tablet and flipping through the pages, exact reproductions of Gabriel Agreste’s book, down to the wear marks and ragged edges.

There were a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, where it seemed like both were putting two and two together and coming up with a square.

“Whe—” his voice came out cracking, so Chat Noir cleared his throat and tried again. “Where exactly did you get this, Marinette?”

“I— I told you already…”

“That great-uncle of yours… his name wouldn’t happen to be Wang Fu, would it?”

Marinette grimaced — there was no going back now.

“Y-you knew my uncle?”

“He was Master Fu to me… but of course, you know that very well, don’t you?”

Chat Noir’s frown turned into that mischievous grin he sported when he had a trick up his sleeve.

“So, would you say you can’t make heads or tails of this book… Bug?”

Marinette smiled back playfully, flicking his nose in an affectionate gesture.

“I’d say we’ve only just scratched the surface, Kitty. What do you say we work on it together?”

Prompt: “How long have you been standing there?”, Marichat, post-season 3.

For @miraculous-elcie. Thanks to everyone on Discord who chimed in!

[bugsandchatons]

when you weren’t mine to lose (4)

Summary: Change is a scary thing, especially when it feels like nothing has stayed the same.

It’s been a year since Marinette became the Guardian of the Miracle Box - a year of struggling beneath a burden she never asked for, a weight that has her leaning on her partner more and more as the hours fly by, of letting him come to her, too, when he needs a soft place to land. A year of falling for the boy who takes on the world by her side with a smile made of sunlight, and fighting the growing urge to tell him what he means to her.

After all, they’ll have time enough for that when Paris is safe.

But when the unthinkable happens, Marinette learns the tragedy of loving someone quietly, and the lines she’ll cross to save him.

  [[AO3]] {from the beginning}

*****

[four: when I’ve got nothing but my aching soul]

The world around her keeps going, but Ladybug’s universe narrows to three things: Chat Noir’s frozen form, the shattered mirror at his feet, and her own hand, reaching in vain across the space between them. At some point, darkness must fall around her in earnest, as the sun dies behind the horizon. At some point, the akumatized victim must gather his strength and crawl away, finding his own way down the fire escape and leaving Ladybug to her vigil.

She doesn’t spare him a glance.

The beeping in her ears blares one last warning and the static fades, bringing the return of sound and with it, faint gasps that come in a rhythm.

It’s coming from her, Ladybug realizes. She can’t seem to find enough air.

There’s a flash of pink and she shuts her eyes against it. When she opens them again, Chat’s blank stare meets her. Her stomach turns, threatening to empty. “I can’t breathe,” she tells him, choking on the words. 

Still, he doesn’t move. 

Another sound finds her, be it mere moments or hours later. It takes too long to realize it’s her name.

“Marinette?” Tikki, exhausted and wide-eyed, is patting her cheek. “Marinette, what happened?”

“Chat, he -” she whispers, lifting a trembling finger. She can’t find any more words, but it’s enough. 

Tikki spins around and makes a strangled sort of sound before zipping over to him. “Chat Noir?” she asks, her voice clear as a bell. Marinette blinks, then sits up straighter and stares. If she can’t fix it, then Tikki will.

“Plagg?” Tikki tries, her voice jumping an octave. “Plagg,” she calls again, before her expression twists. In the blink of an eye, Tikki phases into the Chat statue, before reappearing with something that’s enormous in her hands but tiny when she brings it over and lays it in front of Marinette. 

It’s Chat Noir’s ring, the Black Cat Miraculous in a state she’s never seen it in before. It’s still black, but burned black. The signet face is blank, and the absence of the usual flashing green paw print is as glaring as a missing heartbeat.

When Marinette opens her mouth to speak, nothing makes it past the lump in her throat. She swallows, then tries again, her voice hoarse. “Where’s Plagg?”

Tikki makes a small sound, similar to that of an animal in pain. Everything about her droops. “I don’t know, Marinette. The Miraculous is broken.”

Marinette shakes her head, the movement slow and mechanical. She reaches out for the shattered hand mirror and stares at her own fragmented reflection as it looks back with broken accusation in her eyes. She whispers, “Why didn’t it work, Tikki?”

Tikki closes her eyes. “Lucky Charm has failed before when the Akuma's ability was able to impact it. This is…” she trails off, touching down onto the roof in front of Marinette, her eyes glassy with her own grief when she looks back up. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

It takes a moment for her meaning to land, the only sound Marinette’s harsh, hiccuping breaths. She looks from the black ring to the black statue of a boy whose name she never knew but wanted to learn. Her partner, her kitty, his eyes empty when they were always so bright, his mouth a gaping wound when it used to offer sunbeam smiles.

Marinette had lost him time and time again, but he’d always come back. She’d saved him, over and over. It was never supposed to be permanent.

She looks down at the mirror that failed her, failed him, screws her eyes shut, and smashes it into the rooftop. Glass shards fly free and nick her arms, her cheeks. Marinette does it again, then again. 

“Marinette,” Tikki cries, “you’re hurting yourself, please!” 

Was she? She couldn’t feel it. She gives in anyway, dropping the destroyed mirror and picking up the Miraculous ring instead. She shuffles closer to Chat, stopping just short of touching him. Her hand shakes as she closes her fingers around his ring.

She’s held it before, but she’s always been able to give it back. 

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” her name comes from a low, smooth voice behind her, belonging to someone who wasn’t there before. “In hindsight, I ought to have known it would be you hiding behind Ladybug’s mask.”

She feels Tikki nestle into her hair. Marinette fists her fingers and rises to her knees. She turns slowly, lifting her eyes to meet Hawkmoth’s as he stares down at her. Something inside her catches fire and starts to burn.

“Nothing to say on your behalf?” he asks. “No desperate denials?”

Marinette glares back. If he’s disappointed in her refusal to engage, he says nothing of it. He tips his head down in the smallest of nods. “I’m afraid I require your Miraculous, Mademoiselle.”

She lets out one harsh sound, too sharp and brittle to be a laugh. “Now you ask nicely?” 

Hawkmoth is silent for a beat, then another. He clears his throat. “It would be in your best interest, as well.” She stares him down as he inclines his head in Chat’s direction, but seems unable to fully look his way as he continues, “I can fix what has transpired here tonight.”

“You can fix him,” Marinette turns the words over in her mouth. They taste like ashes. “Why?”

Another silence. Hawkmoth seems to measure what he’d like to say carefully before admitting, “I have reason to believe he’s my son.”

“Your son,” Marinette echoes. The flames inside the cavern of her chest lick higher and higher, a blaze building to an inferno.

“I believe so, yes.” Finally, he turns his gaze to Chat, though any expression Hawkmoth might offer in the face of what he’s wrought hides behind his mask. Marinette’s fingers itch with the desire to claw his eyes out. “This evening, my son did not come home. No one has seen him for hours now, which is an anomaly on its own. He is typically obedient and does not leave our house without accompaniment, so his continued absence is highly unusual.” He pauses, his brow furrowing. “I...have wondered before about the possibility of him being Chat Noir. Now, between the timing of his disappearance and the demise of your partner, the coincidence seems too great to disregard. With your earrings and his ring, I can likely restore him.”

Marinette clenches her fist around the broken ring until it bites into her skin. It wouldn’t be granting any wishes, now. “Restore him,” she says slowly, venom slipping into the cracks in her voice. She rises; one foot underneath her, then the other. “You? You ruined him. You killed him.” 

Hawkmoth watches her, his face infuriatingly blank. Marinette takes a shaky step, putting herself firmly between him and Chat as her emptiness gives way to something vicious and blistering. “You put him in danger every day, and for what? Now he’s gone. You can’t save him,” she spits. “You took him away from me.” 

Her words echo, splintering the quiet of the night. Hawkmoth’s jaw ticks, the only outward sign of his displeasure. “If you’re quite finished with the dramatics,” he begins, “I am offering the chance to change it.” 

“No, you’re trying to get what you want. To take the Miraculous and use them for something selfish. If I were to do that, I wouldn’t need you, now would I?”

Hawkmoth’s lip curls. “You know nothing of me or my purposes. You run around playing hero, but you have no idea of the true power of the forces you interfere with. You are nothing but a child.” 

“Maybe,” Marinette admits, “but I’ve still managed to best you a thousand times over.”

“So you will not cooperate, then.” 

Marinette lifts her eyes to his. He could take the Miraculous from her, she knows, and easily. Tikki hasn’t eaten, and she can’t transform. Marinette doesn’t care. She dares him to take a step. She’ll burn him down and the world along with it. “No,” she says, “I will not.” 

His eyes narrow to slits. “We shall see, Miss Dupain-Cheng.”

She stares back, undaunted. His threats can’t touch her. There’s nothing more he can do that would be worse than what he’s already done.

He half-turns, waving his cane towards Chat. “And what are you going to do for him on your own? Give it time. You might find that you and I are not so different when it comes to losing those we love.”

Her breath catches in her lungs. The ring feels like a brand in her palm. Hawkmoth would trade a life to bring back whoever it was he’d lost. If she could, would she make the same choice?

“Go, Hawkmoth,” Tikki speaks up, her little voice colder than Marinette has ever heard it. “The Guardian will deal with you in due time.”

Silence greets her. It stretches on until Marinette hears his footsteps retreat, then fade. 

When he’s gone, she steps closer to Chat, shaking like a leaf in the wind. “Oh, minou, mon rêve,” she whispers. “Can’t you come back to me? I was going to tell you my name,” she lifts a timid hand and lays it against his cool cheek. “I was going to tell you I love you.” 

Ashes fall from his cheek like teardrops, staining her fingers. As though a mere touch was all that was needed, Chat crumbles, ashes falling at her feet and scattering on the wind. When dust is all that remains, something inside Marinette twists and breaks.

She drops to the rooftop when her legs give up, unwilling to hold her any longer. She screams, for Chat, for anyone, until her voice is ragged and nearly spent. She draws freezing air into burning lungs and screams some more, begging Bunnyx to come and take her back, back to when the worst thing she had to face was telling her partner the truth.

Tikki rides out the storm on her shoulder, her little hands pressed to Marinette’s cheek. “Bunnyx will only come if all else has failed, Marinette,” she murmurs. “At the end of everything.”

“Chat is gone,” Marinette whimpers, “Hawkmoth knows who I am. This feels like the end of everything to me.” 

Tikki presses her face to Marinette’s, her little body shaking. “There must be something, then. Something we’ve missed, another chance-”

Another chance. Marinette goes very still. “A second chance,” she gasps. She finds her feet, slowly. She swipes a soot-stained hand over her cheek and turns in the direction of home. “I need to get to my bedroom, Tikki. Without anyone seeing.” She fumbles for her purse and produces half a macaroon. “Please eat, if you can.” 

Like mismatching puzzle pieces, she forces together a plan. A convoluted one, a risky one, but a plan, none-the-less. As she strings it together, she finally feels like she can breathe.

“What are you thinking?” Tikki asks before taking a bite.

Marinette tells her.

 ****

The race to her terrace is a blur. Ladybug stumbles over her potted plants until she reaches the hatch and falls into her bed, then slides down the ladder. She drags herself on weary feet to the locked chest in the corner. Inside, buried beneath several layers of fabric scraps, is the Miracle Box.

Ladybug presses her thumbs to the buttons and watches as it springs open at her touch.

“Are you sure about this, Marinette?” Tikki had asked, blue eyes wide and uncertain.

No. She wasn’t at all sure that this was the right choice, but she was sure that this was her best chance.

Ladybug selects the Miraculous she needs and slides it onto her left wrist. She tucks the box back away safe, stands, and grabs a hair ribbon from her desk. With it, she ties Chat’s ring to her other wrist, pressing the blank signet to her lips before something else catches her eye.

Her phone blinks insistently from the desk. There are a dozen missed messages - her mother, her father, Alya. One in particular grabs her attention, a short text from an unknown number.

This is Nathalie Sancoeur. Miss Dupain-Cheng, is Adrien with you?

She blinks. There are others - another from Alya, from Nino, even Chloe, all asking the same thing.

Is Adrien with you? 

Ladybug’s phone slips from shaking fingers. 

Between the timing of his disappearance and the demise of your partner, the coincidence seems too great to disregard.

Ladybug swallows. She breathes in through her nose and lets it back out. She’d fix it.

“One more time, Tikki,” she’d begged on the rooftop. “If this works, it...it might be awhile.”

Tikki had pressed a kiss to her forehead, determination clear in her eyes. “If it gives us a chance to save Plagg and Chat Noir, then it will be more than worth it. Good luck, Marinette.”

She digs an old, treasured charm bracelet out of her purse and dons it, too. She’d never had to ask for luck before, but now, she would take every bit she could get her hands on. 

Ladybug leaves her home as quietly as she snuck in. She swings down from the roof and slips into the park across the street, letting her feet carry her until she finds herself in front of the statue dedicated to herself and Chat Noir. The violent hole in her chest gapes open, even wider than before.

At least here, she can see his smile.

This time, when her eyes burn and her throat swells and her heart breaks, Ladybug lets it consume her. She lets tears burst through the dam she’d built and drowns in them. She lets the grief pour out of her until she’s choking on it.

Through it all, she waits.

She feels it, when it comes - in the shift in the air, in the chill down her spine. She lets out a ragged breath. “Tikki,” she whispers. “Sass. Unify.”

Then Ladybug reaches out and allows damnation and salvation both to land in the palm of her hand. “There you are, little butterfly. I’ve been waiting for you.” 

[let-the-dream-begin]

A Place to Belong Chapter 28: Withering

Chapter 27

Read on AO3

September 14th, 1749

Jenny had indeed been pregnant. She was about six-and-a-half months along now.

But she was far too thin.

The potato crop was doing just fine, it always did. The famine touched them, of course, but so far it hadn’t directly affected Lallybroch apart from being unable to obtain certain fruits or vegetables. This year, however, that had all changed.

The barley wouldn’t ripen. It had apparently been overwatered and there was no saving it. No barley meant no whisky, which meant no direct income, nothing to trade with. Every scrap of food became precious; there wasn’t enough to feed the animals. Pigs and goats were going hungry, and the only option was to slaughter them before they lost all the meat on their bones and became useless when they wasted away. And even once they’d reached that point, there wasn’t much meat to be had.

The potatoes kept them alive. Even the turnips in Jenny’s garden had failed this year, so that starchy vegetable was all they had left. Even the game from Fergus’s traps were scarce of late. The grain harvest was not much better off than the barley, so bread and bannocks were a rare commodity for the first time ever.

Claire was terrified.

Janet and Michael always seemed to be hungry, and Jenny always seemed to be trying to feed them, but more often than not, there was nothing coming out of her to give them. She was not eating enough to produce milk. Claire knew her body could still produce some milk from the way her breasts occasionally still leaked at Brianna's cries, but it had been so long since her body had needed to nourish her child, she, too, was useless. The goats were hardly producing any milk, being as starved as they were.

And Jenny was much too thin.

Claire had never seen a gaunt pregnant woman in her life. And now that she had, she wished she could burn it out of her memory.

She noticed it for the first time during supper one night. They were eating potato stew -- again -- and Claire watched as Jenny emptied some of the contents of her bowl into Jamie’s, then Maggie’s, then Kitty’s, hardly leaving any for herself. Claire paused her own eating to really look at Jenny, wondering how long she’d been doing that. She noticed then that her arms were much smaller than she remembered them being, her cheekbones much sharper, her eyes more sunken in. Her pallor was gray.

How did I miss this?

Claire had declared at once that she did not feel well, and had foisted her stew upon Jenny and excused herself.

“Make sure she finishes that,” she’d whispered to Ian. He vowed he would.

Claire made sure from that night on to sneak just that little bit of extra stew into Jenny’s bowl, leaving less for herself. She noticed eventually that Ian was doing the same.

But even with the extra helpings, Jenny was hardly eating enough food for one, let alone two.

Claire was terrified.

Maggie started knocking on Claire’s door almost nightly, whimpering, horrible, sad little noises.

“My tummy hurts, Auntie.”

“Please heal me, Auntie.”

Claire gave her peppermint tea and held her by the fire until she fell into a fitful sleep, and Claire wept.

Peppermint tea was all well and good, but there was no real cure for hunger.

In late September, Fergus put his foot down. He knew there was a gun being hidden somewhere on the grounds, and he demanded to be told where it was so he could shoot some game with it.

“The traps are useless! We need to hunt, Uncle!”

They’d argued for a long while, and Ian and Jenny had almost won out, until Maggie wandered up to Claire and asked for more peppermint for her tummy.

That was enough for them to allow it.

He and Rabbie left for two days, returning with a small doe and a basket of fish. It kept them afloat for a few more weeks.

Then, on December second, the Redcoats came back.

Even they, high and mighty as they were, were apparently not immune to famine.

“Good afternoon, Master Murray,” The Captain greeted from atop his horse. For a moment, Claire was terrified they’d found out about Fergus’s hunting trip with a firearm, but it was soon abundantly clear why they were here.

“Many of our men are going hungry as we speak. Game has been scarce of late. We are requiring all farms near the patrol to offer rations.”

Jenny went paler than she already was.

“Captain, I’m sure ye know we are all loyal subjects to His Majesty,” Ian began carefully. “And if we had anything to spare, ye ken that we would. But, ye see — ”

“I’m quite aware that it’s been a difficult harvest. You are not the only farmers to have said so.” He dismounted and stood tall in front of Ian. “Unfortunately, we are not in a position to argue. Our men are starving.”

“Sir...my children are starving.” Ian gestured helplessly behind him to Jenny in the garden, Jamie and Maggie hiding behind her skirts. Claire stood near with bated breath.

“A pity indeed,” The Captain said flippantly. “Though I’m afraid you aren’t in a position to argue either.”

“How d’ye mean?”

“Come now, we’ve visited with you lot quite a bit, haven’t we? Surely you must realize you’re in a bit of hot water, what with Mistress Fraser as suspicious a character as she is. And you...suspiciously the wrong pegleg that night. Astonishing, isn’t it?”

“Sir...I dinna ken what ye mean about my wife’s cousin, and the matter about the grave robbing was resolved — ”

“Was it indeed?” He cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. “Funny that you see it that way.”

That was when it all clicked in Claire’s head.

Perhaps the men were starving; it was more than likely. But they couldn’t possibly have been nearly as destitute as they were claiming, couldn’t be so lacking in supplies that taking from Lallybroch was a necessity.

He knew they were hiding things, keeping secrets. And he was using that knowledge to taunt them, holding their starvation over their heads.

It’s a fucking game to him.

He intended to take from the Murrays because he wanted to, and because he could.

“Two bags of grain, and three bags of potato, Master Murray,” The Captain said, stepping toward him. “Now.”

Claire saw red as she watched Fergus and Rabbie load their wagon with the requested supplies. She very much thought that Fergus would launch himself at them any minute, and she prayed fervently in her head that he would do no such thing.

“No!” someone suddenly cried, their voice much smaller and nearer than Fergus’s.

“Jamie, no — ” Jenny tried to grab for him, but he slipped past her, dashing out of the garden and straight toward the Captain.

“Ye canna take it!” He stood his ground, dodging Ian’s attempts to swipe at him. “My Mam is gonnae have a bairn, and she needs to eat! Ye canna take our food!”

“Is that so, young man?” The Captain peered down at him over the bridge of his nose.

“Aye!”

“You know who that is, don’t you, Captain?” One of the others piped up. “That’s the future Laird of this land.”

“Is it, indeed?” The Captain sneered. “I suppose we ought to listen to what he has to say, then.”

“Aye! Ye should!” Jamie gave an indignant stomp of his foot.

Before anyone could blink, the butt of his gun collided with Jamie���s little head, and he collapsed in the dirt. Jenny shrieked inhumanly, a sound Claire hadn’t even thought her capable of. Claire’s stomach lurched, and she rushed to his side, turning his head over to check for bleeding.

Jenny suddenly cried out again, and Claire looked up to see her staring in horror between her feet.

Her waters have broken.

Ian got to her as fast as he could, catching her in his arms, holding her up.

“The midwife, Fergus. Quickly,” Ian called, and Fergus was off like a shot toward the stable.

“Quite the eventful day for the Murrays.” The Captain chuckled, watching as Ian helped Jenny inside. 

Maggie was wailing, tears streaming down her red cheeks. Claire gathered Jamie in her arms, cradling him to her chest, and struggled to stand. Her chin jutted out, her eyes burning hatefully into the Captain.

“I’ll leave you to it, then, Mistress Elizabeth.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. He mounted his horse, and the other men took their positions in the wagon. “My best wishes to the child on its way.”

Claire did not watch them go; she turned on her heel, cradling Jamie, and rushed into the house. 

“It’s alright, darling, come inside,” she crooned to Maggie as she crossed over the threshold. “I’m going to make him all better. Don’t worry.”

Laura was standing in the parlor frozen in fear, and Claire beckoned her to retrieve a cold compress for Jamie’s head. She laid him down on the sofa and checked his pulse, his pupils. There was no bleeding, thank God. They were likely looking at bruising or a concussion in the worst case.

“Maggie, love,” Claire said gently, taking her into her arms. “I promise everything will be alright. Can you do me a favor, since you’re such a big girl?”

“Aye, Auntie,” she sputtered.

“Can you go and check on all the babies? Kitty, Brianna, the twins? I think they need you very much right now.”

“Aye, Auntie. I can.” She sniffled and rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes, putting on a brave face.

“That’s my brave wee lass.” Claire kissed her cheek. “Go on, now. It’ll be alright.”

A ragged cry suddenly echoed through the house, coming from the Laird’s room. Maggie looked back at Claire fretfully.

“It’s alright. It’s just the same as when Michael and Janet were born. Remember? It hurts a little. Don’t worry.”

Maggie nodded before turning back to the stairs and trudging up them. Jamie suddenly groaned, and Claire turned back to him.

“Jamie?” Claire said, stroking his hair away from his face. “Can you hear me, darling?”

“Aye,” he said groggily. “My head hurts.”

“I know, love. It’s alright, I’m here. Can you see? Is anything blurry?”

“No...but it hurts.”

“Alright, it’s alright. Laura is coming back with something cold to put where it hurts. It will make you feel better.”

Jenny cried out again, and Jamie’s eyes popped open despite their previous lethargy.

“Mam? Is it the bairn?”

“Yes, she’s having the baby a bit early. Don’t worry. Babies come early all the time. They’ll be just fine.”

Laura returned just then with a bucket of cold water, and it was a struggle to keep the little boy still long enough to keep the wet rag on his head.

“Jamie, you mustn’t ever directly address a Redcoat again, do you understand me?” Claire said firmly, yet softly as she pressed the rag into his head.

“But Mam needs the food.”

“I know, darling. But you could get hurt a lot worse next time. And we all need you. Lallybroch needs you.” She stroked his cheek, her throat tightening. “Your uncle left you this land; It was the last thing he ever did. And you need to honor that by being smart, and brave. And being brave doesn’t always mean getting into trouble like that. Do you understand?”

He looked very thoughtful for a moment, an expression that combated oddly with his youthful face. “Aye. I understand, Auntie.”

“Good boy.” Jenny cried out again, and Claire’s stomach flipped. “Alright, can you hold this for me, Jamie?” He nodded, and took her place holding the cold compress on his head. “Laura will stay with you while I see to your mother. Alright?”

“Aye, Auntie.”

Claire pressed a quick kiss to his forehead, sliding past Laura as she settled beside Jamie with the bucket of water. Claire hurried up the stairs and into the Laird’s room.

“Claire!” Jenny choked out her name before she could even cross the threshold. “Is he alright?”

“He’s fine, Jenny.” Claire sat down on the edge of the bed and clasped Jenny’s hand between hers. “He’s awake, and he’s got a cold compress on his head. He’ll be fine.”

Jenny nodded tearfully, biting down on her lip. “Christ, I’d never been so scairt in all my life.”

Claire squeezed her hand. “I know. It’s alright now. They’re gone, and everyone is safe.”

“Go to him, Ian,” Jenny said. “Claire’s got me, now. Tell him I’m alright.”

Ian pressed a kiss to the top of Jenny’s head before departing. Mrs. Donnelly was flitting about, adjusting pillows and the fire, and filling pitchers and bowls with water.

“It’s alright, isn’t it?” Jenny said fretfully. “That it’s so early?”

“It should be,” Claire answered. “It’s very common for babies to come earlier and earlier the more you have. In fact, he should even come out in no time, considering how many times you’ve given birth.”

“Aye, ye’ve said that before,” Jenny said, nodding. “Ye’d better be right, or I may throttle ye.”