I'm the only one who'll love your sins 😈

28 yrs old, Cancer ♋️, She/Her/Hers

[shadequeen712]

Mobile Masterlist

Just for reference, I write all of my main OCs as black female characters, and most of them are plus-sized, chubby or fat (whichever term you prefer). Also this is primarily a smut and fantasy writing blog. Please enjoy!

BTS

💜💜💜

Min Yoongi (Suga) 

Tuesday Mornings- coming soon!

Fruits Basket au

poly relationship, shape-shifters, Chinese Zodiac

Rating: Explicit 

Preview: 

All Kim Nari wanted was to shelter a stray cat from the cold. Instead she became responsible for a hot-headed, silver-haired wackjob who claimed he was the all powerful Lord of Tuesday. Whatever the hell that meant.

...

Kwon Hyuk (Dean)

🌌💔

Love the Stars-  Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3   

nightclub au, casual hookups, a supreme amount of angst

Rating: Mature

Preview:

I like to observe people. I watch their actions as they interact in the club; the way they move, drink and speak. I've seen plenty of girls get picked up right here at the bar counter, only to see them come back the next night looking for someone new. Romance is dead. And for him, the guy drowning himself in vodka night after night, it is no different. 

...

Monsta X

🧟⌛

Lee Jooheon 

Don’t Smile At Me-  Character List Chapter 1

Paradise Kiss au, vampire au

fashion show, plus-sized OC (this matters for the plot), poly relationship

Rating: Explicit

Check out the character list!! 

Preview:

All relationships are temporary. Or at least, that's what I thought before I met the designers at Paradise Kiss.

Before I met him. Before I met them. Before I cared about anyone but myself.

I didn't know eternity could exist. But eternity is possible, as long as you pay the price.

...

Ateez 

🏴‍☠️☠️

Park Seonghwa

Book of Shadows-  Chapter 1 Chapter 2

witch au, demons, dark fairy tale elements

poly relationship, angst, depressed character- written with the utmost care

morally ambiguous OC - yes, that is important

Rating: Explicit

Preview:

Hongjoong just had to break the curse, reckless as it was. He couldn't bare the suffering any longer. The feeling of their hearts wasting away, magic slowly fading. For a witch, it was a fate worse than death.

He would do anything to make his boys happy. Even if it meant giving up his own life.

[violetrainbow412-blog]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

Peter Parker x telepath!reader

wc: 6k

summary: after erasing herself from his memories to save him, she spends years silently yearning for his love, unaware that fate would also ensure Peter was forgotten by the rest of the world. But no spell can break a bond that always finds its way back.

masterlist

Part two Part three bonus

Most of the time, Professor Xavier underestimated the true power of a pair of headphones. Maximoff had given them to you a few months ago, right after seeing you on the verge of a breakdown and hearing your confession: how unbearable it was to get used to the incessant tide of other people's minds, the torture of listening to everyone, all the time.

“They help me when I don't want to think about anything,” he told you at the time, shrugging with that effortless lightness so typical of him.

Peter was older, a mutant who had been adapting to the institute's rhythm for much longer, so you decided to take his word for it. From then on, the headphones became indispensable; a tool you couldn't go anywhere without.

Charles's teachings helped, of course. They taught you to adjust your mind as if turning the knob of an old radio, isolating frequencies and tuning into white noise. But there were days when fatigue soaked into your bones and you didn't have the strength to be your own filter. You just wanted the murmur of humanity to turn off.

The Professor never stopped you from crossing the mansion's gates. After all, Westchester wasn't a prison and you weren't a captive; you were free to leave whenever you desired. That was why, upon communicating your wish to travel to the city, you only received an understanding look and a serene nod.

The truth was that not even you knew what you were looking for in Manhattan. Perhaps you harbored the childish hope that the rattling of the train would gift you a few minutes of sleep. You had been dragging heavy insomnia for weeks. At first, when your powers awakened, the nights were a nightmare of invisible screams drilling into your ears in the dark. But this time was different.

This time, the interference had an implicit name. A voice.

You couldn't stop listening to his thoughts: they were a tangle of crushing responsibilities, recent losses, and a pain so deep it bordered on devotion. Among the millions of minds fluctuating through the metropolis, his possessed a unique frequency that found its way to you, piercing through your defenses without asking for permission. It wasn't the loudest mind nor the most imposing. It simply... claimed you.

As the days went by, you stopped perceiving it as background noise. There was a painful familiarity in its echo. You felt like you had known him all your life, even if you had never seen his face. It was an inexplicable telepathic connection, an invisible thread completely escaping Charles's manuals and theories about the human mind.

Sometimes, with your forehead pressed against the pillow, you wondered if he felt that same pull on the other side of nothingness. If he sensed that, on his darkest nights, there was an unknown mind keeping him company in the silence. That doubt floated in the air until exhaustion overcame you, leaving you with the eternal question about who that stranger was inhabiting your sleepless nights.

You liked the city. It didn't have the peace of Westchester, but it possessed a brutal honesty. You thought about dropping by to see your parents, but dismissed the idea immediately. You didn't want to face their forced smiles nor the contained panic in their eyes every time you made a sudden movement. Your presence was an uncomfortable reminder of imperfection. It was better to leave them in peace; after all, they had your sister. She wasn't a mutant. She was the future they could boast about without whispering.

At the mansion, life was relatively peaceful. You got along well with most, though the relationship with the other telepaths was distant. They knew the history of your past breakdown and treated you like glass about to shatter, fearing a flaw in your mind would trigger a domino effect. Curiously, you found more comfort in the older ones: Maximoff's hyperactivity, Logan's protective cynicism, or the quiet conversations with Beast.

And then there was the Professor. Charles frequently sought you out after classes ended to evaluate your progress. There was no fear in his gaze... in fact, there was nothing. His mind was the only place in the universe where absolute silence reigned. Trying to peek into Xavier's thoughts was like trying to crack a safe using a cooked noodle: an absurd thing.

Inside your backpack traveled an object of personal cult: a worn copy of The Secret Garden. Even though it was a children's read, the story of that hidden, healing corner brought you an almost physical comfort. You understood all too well the imperious need to find a refuge where no one could reach you.

The book's origin was a haze. Maybe you had bought it for a couple of dollars at a street market, or perhaps it belonged to your family before everything broke. The pages wore that yellowish tone that nostalgics sigh for, and the corners of the cover were so worn that any bibliophile would have suffered seeing it. For you, however, it was irreplaceable.

On the first page, written in slightly faded ink but elegant calligraphy, you read a dedication:

For whenever you need a quiet place

— P.P

None of your relatives or acquaintances matched those initials. You always assumed the book had belonged to a stranger who forgot to claim his love note before selling it. After all, the world was full of lost memories.

You adjusted your back against the train seat and buried your nose in the pages, letting the smell of old paper dry your thoughts while your eyes scanned lines you knew by heart. Outside, the landscape transformed. The greenness of tall trees and gravel paths gradually gave way to the brutal architecture of civilization: small brick neighborhoods, clotheslines crisscrossing between windows, rusted rails, and graffiti shouting names on concrete walls.

Bit by bit, Manhattan's skyscrapers emerged on the horizon like glass giants claiming the sky. The train crossed the last metallic bridges and ventured into the guts of a city that never slept.

Stepping off, you began walking without a clear destination. The city was the antithesis of the isolation you usually sought: a hotbed of fragmented thoughts, financial anxieties, and absurd hurries clashing with one another. However, there was something liberating in that chaos. Among millions of voices screaming at the same time, your own cracks went unnoticed. Nobody looked at you. Nobody feared you.

To cross the streets you didn't need to look at the traffic lights; a light mental pulse was enough to switch the lights at your convenience, opening a path for yourself in a manufactured bubble of calm. Playing in your ears was the playlist Maximoff had built for you on Spotify. Although the concept of streaming seemed like an unnecessary modernity to him, he had taken the trouble to compile hours of classic and alternative rock.

You walked for hours until your steps came to a dead halt before the facade of a building.

Your old high school.

There was no logical reason to have ended up there, but the red brick walls triggered a pang in your stomach. You stood on the sidewalk, watching students pour out in flocks amid laughter, shoves, and innocence; that kind of carefreeness that only exists before reality crushes you.

You wondered what it would feel like to be one of them. What your life would have been like if your mutation had never awakened. If your only battles had been physics grades, prom, or deciding which college to apply to, instead of learning to contain an ability that threatened to destroy you from within.

You would have been an normal girl. Ordinary.

The word felt bitter in your mouth. Distant. Like a suit that belonged to someone else.

You searched your memory for a face, a name, anything to justify the nostalgia tightening your chest, but only found blanks. You vaguely remembered belonging to the debate club and the science club, but the faces of your classmates were unrecognizable. Time had taken care of that.

You thought about crossing the entrance, but immediately lost heart. It made no sense. A stranger lurking in the hallways would only draw suspicious looks.

You turned around and let your feet carry you aimlessly. It was then that intuition returned, this time with a magnetic clarity. It wasn't an external thought or a telepathic intrusion; it was a pull in the center of your chest, as if an invisible thread tied to your ribs were being tugged from somewhere in the city.

You boarded a city bus without looking at the route sign. The need to move forward flattened any doubt. You watched through the window as blocks of buildings succeeded one another, trying to convince yourself that it was just a neurotic impulse, a side effect of fatigue. But the pull didn't yield.

You got off a few stops later and started walking by inertia, turning corners almost instinctively, as if navigating a map engraved in your genes.

Until the thread slacked.

In front of you stood a small, humble café, almost invisible among the grandiosity of the main avenues. You remained on the sidewalk contemplating the reflection in the glass, overcome by the mathematical certainty that this was exactly where you needed to arrive.

In your headphones, the final chords of MGMT were playing. Oracular Spectacular was an album that seemed to evoke memories of a life you weren't sure you had lived, a mixture of psychedelia and melancholy that fit the moment perfectly.

Pushing the door open, the chime of a bell announced your entrance. The place was practically empty, an oasis of silence you were deeply grateful for. You took a deep breath, gathering the courage needed to slide the headphones down to your neck and prepare for the inevitable impact of mental noise.

“Hi, what can I get for you?”

Behind the counter, a girl with dark skin offered you a warm smile. Her nametag read Michelle, though your mind had already caught her name a second prior. However, when trying to go deeper, you bumped into a subtle wall; her mind was complex, dense, hard to decipher at first glance. Some people were just that unreadable.

You ordered a latte out of obligation. You hated coffee—caffeine usually triggered unbearable migraines—but needing to buy something was the price to pay to stay there.

That was when you noticed the boy on the other side of the counter: Ned Leeds, Michelle's friend. Ned's mind, unlike hers, was an open book. Both shared a vibe of contained nervousness, a low tension floating between them. It felt like something... work-related? No, academic.

“I'll bring it to your table in a moment.”

You nodded mechanically and settled at a small table next to the window. On the opposite wall, a turned-on television silently broadcast amateur video footage: Spider-Man swinging between skyscrapers. You remembered the events of last year, the cracks in the sky, and the multiversal threat everyone talked about. You also remembered Charles's blunt response when you asked why you all hadn't intervened: “It's not our fight.”

You looked at the screen with bitterness. And even if you had wanted to help... what on earth could you have done against the collapse of the universe?

You wondered if at any point the world would be ready for mutants. It was an open secret: the beloved figure Charles had lost years ago, a mutant so unstable he had been the worst calling card to society. Many of the mansion's residents had seen him on television as children; a few others knew him personally. You could only rely on rumors.

You stared at the street through the café's glass for a long while, wondering where all those people were heading, even though you knew the answer beforehand. You saw a girl walking hurriedly down the sidewalk, struggling to adjust the strap of a heavy bag slung over her shoulder. You wanted to believe in a gentle story: you imagined inside were a bunch of purchases she could finally, after a long time, afford. A birthday gift for someone special, some expensive creams, or maybe those shoes she had liked so much in some display window.

You entered her mind a second later.

Reality was much grayer. There were no gifts or new shoes. In the bag she only carried a change of clothes and the medical studies of her grandmother, whom she was going to nurse at the hospital during the night shift after working all day. In her head there was no excitement, but an accumulated fatigue of weeks, the worry of not knowing how to pay for the month's medications, and the faint hope that the old woman would recognize her for at least a couple of minutes before falling asleep.

You gently looked away, with a pang of bitterness in your chest.

Why was reality so sad? Was any of those passersby actually having a good day?

You moved your eyes across the sidewalk, almost desperately searching for a flash of light amid the tide of tired faces. And then you saw it. A little boy, no older than five, hopping along next to his mother. He held a green plastic dinosaur in his hands, and brushing his mind for an instant, you found no sorrow. Only a gigantic happiness because his mother had bought him the toy he had been waiting weeks for. In his universe, in that precise second, nothing bad existed.

You smiled to yourself and exhaled a breath you didn't even know you were holding. Somehow, that tiny thought comforted you; it was like a crack of sunlight amid a cloudy sky. Reality could be heavy, yes, but at least it wasn't entirely lost.

You heard the chime at the entrance, and your body responded before your mind did, turning you around to observe the newly arrived customer. A slender boy, with brown hair somewhat messy from the street wind and a sweet, incredibly expressive gaze, but with a distinct shadow of fatigue under his eyes. He wore a worn jacket that was a bit too big for him and had his hands buried in his pockets. He had that kind of noble, empathetic face that instantly conveys trust.

However, what left you dumbfounded was the fact that you heard absolutely nothing.

Not a single thought. Not the slightest murmur. His mind was in complete, inexplicable silence. It wasn't Professor Xavier's impenetrable and calculated barrier; it was something different, an absolute void, yet strangely warm. After spending the day submerged in the city's chaotic bustle, encountering such calm in a stranger left you breathless.

He didn't notice your presence; instead, his eyes were fixed on the waitress carrying your coffee.

“Enjoy,” she exclaimed kindly.

He didn't take his eyes off her, and you didn't take your eyes off him.

You stammered a thanks to the girl, and she returned to her position behind the counter. He, seeing her return, lowered his gaze and hurried to take a seat at one of the tables.

From your spot, you couldn't help but observe him. There was something subtle yet clear in his posture: the way his eyes sought the girl at the counter, the contained hesitation in his gestures... It was obvious he had gone to that café just to see her.

Upon reaching the counter, Michelle and Ned began chatting in a casual tone. After a few moments of fluid conversation, she leaned against the bar, looked at the boy waiting at the table, and asked what he was ordering.

He looked up and answered.

It was barely a short phrase, a simple response, but the timbre of his voice pierced the café's space with an overwhelming clarity.

Your heart took a violent leap. You froze in your seat, paralyzed mid-movement, while an icy shiver ran down your spine. That cadence, the exact intonation, the soft and worn nuance... You didn't need to read his thoughts to know. His spoken voice was enough.

It was the same voice that had been sneaking into your hardest nights for weeks. The lonely mind that found yours in the dark was just a few steps away from you.

That was why you had gone there. To find him.

Once again, you tried to venture into his mind. You launched your telepathy searching for that crack through which you used to hear him, but it was like running into an impenetrable wall; his mind remained in absolute silence. However, at the exact instant you brushed against his barrier, the boy flinched in his chair and went stiff all of a sudden, as if an electric shock had run up the back of his neck.

He turned his head instinctively until his eyes met yours head-on. He held your gaze for an eternal second, charged with a strange, alert tension. He hadn't just blocked you effortlessly; impossibly, that boy seemed to have felt that you were trying to enter his head.

He blinked several times as if trying to discard the idea, sure it had only been an illusion. He focused on a menu hanging above the counter despite having already placed his order, projecting a contained tension that made him look out of place. Worried, perhaps.

You looked toward the window, though now the stories of the passersby lacked meaning. You closed your eyes for an instant, searching in the silence for an answer to the enigma a few feet away, but found nothing.

Determined to end the uncertainty once and for all, you snapped them open and stood up, ready to cross the small space separating you from him. The unexpected part was that the stranger had the exact same idea. Before you could react, the two of you collided head-on. The impact made you lose your balance, and you fell backward onto the floor, letting out a stifled murmur of surprise.

He apologized immediately, visibly embarrassed. Then he crouched to your height and quickly extended his hand to help you up. Confused, you accepted his help, and at the exact instant his fingers closed around your hand, an electric shock coursed through your veins.

A memory flashed into your mind.

The afternoon sun hit your face fully when you heard his voice calling you. You had decided to go to the park to rest, silently celebrating that you had finally survived finals week. You lay on the fresh grass, letting the early summer heat envelope you.

“Do you think I'll do badly in English?” he asked, breaking the silence while looking at the treetops.

“A little, yeah. But not enough to get an F,” you replied honestly, turning toward him.

“Thank goodness. May would kill me.”

“You've never failed a subject, not since we were in kindergarten.”

“No,” he admitted, glancing at you. “That's why I know she'd kill me.”

You let out a genuine laugh, contemplating the comical face he made whenever a truth disguised as a joke escaped him. There was a lightness to those days that now felt like a distant dream.

“If I get bad grades, my parents will probably blame you,” you teased.

“And why's that?” he asked, feigning outrage.

“They'll say you're a distraction.”

At that moment, a white butterfly fluttered between the two of you and lightly brushed your cheek before flying away. He smiled tenderly and reached out, brushing with his fingertips the exact spot where the insect's wings had tickled you.

“That's not true,” he murmured, leaving his hand suspended near your face.

“It kind of is,” you confessed, shrugging as you felt warmth rise to your cheeks. “You spend all day in my thoughts. But they don't have to find out about that.”

Blush instantly stained his cheeks. He tried to hide it by looking down and breaking into a clumsy smile, but it was in vain. You were fascinated watching him get nervous. It was as if he couldn't fully process that you loved him with that blind, boundless intensity that only exists in first love.

“I could help you study for retakes,” he offered, clearing his throat.

“Yeah, sure. Because you're a nerd and all that.”

“No,” he corrected softly, searching your eyes. “Because you're my girlfriend. And I want you to get good grades so we can go to college together.”

“Please! Are you already thinking about college?” you laughed, covering your face with your hands. “We're barely starting high school.”

“Yeah, but it doesn't hurt to plan, right?”

“You worry too much about the future.”

“And you don't?”

“I don't care what the future holds,” you said simply, intertwining your fingers with his as the afternoon wind tousled his hair. “I only care about enjoying the present. About being here. With you.”

The warmth of the hand you were holding grew hazy with the memory of that day. Suddenly, a new scene rushed in headlong.

The whole school knew. It was the only topic of conversation in the hallways: they knew that because of you, that boy was in the hospital. During your constant trips to the principal's office, you had managed to overhear that his parents wanted to sue you, though at your age you weren't sure if that was legally possible.

You just wanted to scream at them that you couldn't help it. That you never wanted to hurt him in the first place.

Now everything hurt, but not in your body; the pain was entrenched in your head. You were sitting outside the principal's office for the hundredth time that week. You had missed almost every class, and when you tried to show up at the debate club meeting, they simply slammed the door in your face.

You wondered how much longer you could endure in this limbo. By that point, your expulsion was practically a done deal.

And then there was the torment of the minds around you. You didn't know how to silence them; they entered your head unfiltered, all the time, drilling into your ears until becoming unbearable noise.

Why on earth was this happening to you?

“Hey,” you suddenly heard.

You didn't know if the murmur came from inside your head or from the hallway, until looking up brought you back to reality: he was standing in front of you.

“There you are,” he said softly.

“Hi,” you whispered, looking at him with guilt. “What are you doing here? There's a club meeting today.”

“Yeah, but I didn't really feel like going,” he replied, shrugging.

Lie. He was fascinated by the debate club. But the worry of finding you had been stronger.

He took a seat beside you. You immediately avoided his gaze, unable to meet his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you lied, tightening your hands on your lap. “They just summoned me again. You know... because of everything that's happened lately.”

“Yeah...” he sighed, resting his elbows on his knees.

Even though he kept quiet, you didn't need him to speak to know exactly what was crossing his mind. His mental pulse was a tide of fatigue, deep sadness, and a touch of pity. He felt afraid, yes, but not toward you or what you could do—rather, for what the world was going to do to you.

An interminable few seconds passed in which the noise of the school threatened to crush you again, until he seemed to gather enough courage to organize his thoughts.

“It wasn't your fault,” he blurted out, searching your eyes. “You know that, right?”

“The guy is in the hospital,” you replied with a broken voice, feeling tears fill your eyes. “I don't even know what I did or how I did it. It just... happened. People are right to be afraid of me.”

“They don't understand anything,” he insisted, turning his body toward you. “I know you. I know who you are. This is an accident, not something you wanted. I... I don't understand how you did it. But you're not crazy, and you're not bad either.”

“I feel like I'm going crazy,” you confessed in a thread of a voice, bringing your hands to your temples as the din of other minds began drilling into you from within again. “There are too many voices. I can't turn them off. It's killing me.”

He didn't hesitate for another second. He moved closer and wrapped his arms around you, enveloping you in a firm, warm hug that seemed to freeze time.

You pressed your face against his shoulder, clinging to his jacket as if it were the only anchor amid the storm. Suddenly, the chaos in your head seemed to dim. The contact of his arms didn't silence the voices of the world, but the certainty of his affection turned everything else into a distant noise, an insignificant echo.

“I'm not leaving you alone in this,” he whispered in your ear, squeezing you a little tighter against him. “We're going to figure it out. I promise you.”

You had closed your eyes for an instant, and when you opened them, the setting had changed completely.

He was watching you from the edge of your bed, with a mix of resignation and worry in his gaze.

“A boarding school?” he asked in a low voice.

“Yeah... It's like a school for gifted youngsters or something like that,” you murmured without looking up, focused on folding clothes and packing them into suitcases.

Every now and then, he stretched out to hand you an item of clothing left on the bed, trying to keep himself useful so as not to break down.

“And for how long will it be?”

“I don't know. A few months, I guess... Until things cool down around here.”

In the end, the hospital boy's parents hadn't filed the lawsuit, but they had taken it upon themselves to spread the rumor to every corner of the high school. The stares, the harassment, and the social pressure ultimately proved you right: expulsion had been inevitable. Your parents, overwhelmed by the situation and not knowing how to handle what was happening to you, had found that special place as a last resort to rid themselves of a problem beyond their control.

“Yeah, well... makes sense,” he commented, though the lack of conviction in his voice was glaring.

His mind was sending clear signals: he was holding something back. And you knew perfectly well what it was.

“Hey, I'll come back to visit you every now and then, okay?” you said, trying to inject some enthusiasm into the room. “And if I talk to the principal... maybe he'll even let me invite you over for a weekend.”

You dropped what you were doing and sat beside him.

“If you want to go, of course.”

“Of course I want to,” he answered immediately. He was completely sincere. “It's just that... Westchester is pretty far.”

“It's not that big of a deal,” you tried to encourage him, though you knew his real concern wasn't the distance, but the fare money.

You sought his hand on the mattress, intertwining your fingers while looking at him with a silent plea reflected in your eyes.

“We can video call every night. Text each other all the time... You'll see I won't feel that far.”

He smiled that sweet way he did when he really wanted to believe things would turn out fine, and nodded silently.

“Yeah, you're right. It'll work.”

You leaned toward him and stole a soft kiss from his lips. It was a brief gesture, but loaded with all the fear, love, and uncertainty you both shared.

“It'll only be a few months to see how they teach over there. And then I'll come back. I promise.”

A final series of memories surfaced. Though when your mind shifted to them, you immediately felt a tightness in your chest.

It hadn't been just a few months. The semester was consuming its final days, and you were still trapped in Westchester.

You weren't going to lie to yourself: you were starting to get used to the place. To the bucolic peace of the mansion, the warmth of your new peers, and the institute's teaching. It was an idyllic refuge. Professor Xavier had personally taken care of manipulating the threads of collective memory at your old school; he didn't erase the incident, but he wiped your face from everyone's memories. To the school board, it had just been an unfortunate physical altercation between two students whose names were better off forgotten. Your name was clean, but your soul remained chained to Queens.

To him.

You had sworn to write to him daily, to keep the flame alive against all odds. But at first, messages flowed like an overflowing river; later, reality turned into a dam. Classes demanded an almost superhuman level of concentration if you wanted to control the chaotic mass of your powers. Guilt devoured your chest with every hour that passed without replying to him.

When you finally managed to scrape a free weekend to return to the city, reuniting with him was a dagger to the heart.

Even without wanting to, you heard the bitter tide of his thoughts. Weeks ago, he had begged you to go to the high school dance with him, excited like a child, but Charles forbade you from going so as not to expose yourself.

“It's okay, I understand,” he had told you at the time, swallowing his disappointment.

But telepathy didn't allow you to deceive yourself. It wasn't just the missed party. It was the cruel taunts in the school hallways when he said he had a girlfriend, an invisible girl whom no one ever saw. It was the contempt of his classmates, the pity condensed in the teachers' gazes, the silenced disappointment of a boy who had to defend the existence of a love that seemed like a ghost.

You couldn't hold his hand in the street, or invite him out for ice cream, or be a living presence in his everyday life.

Those invisible wounds accumulated until they became an unsustainable mountain. And though he never uttered a single reproach—though he swallowed his tears so as not to make you feel guilty—you felt how he was bleeding out from within. He felt deeply lonely, desperately clinging to the sporadic visits of the ghost of the girl who was once his world.

One night, while the moon bathed the roof in silver, the question pierced you like broken glass:

Did he deserve a half-life? Did he deserve to love a shadow?

No. Good heavens, no. He deserved the full light.

“You seem strange,” he said.

The two of you were sitting on the fire escape outside his window, with the cold night air sneaking through your clothes.

“Are you okay?”

“I am,” you murmured, clinging to the iron bars with white knuckles so your voice wouldn't shatter. “Hey... can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Do you really think us... is meant to work?”

“Of course it is,” he answered immediately, searching your eyes with a blind faith that broke your soul. “We've made it this far, haven't we?”

But the words didn't matter. Your mind drowned in the tide of his true answer: a desperate inner plea not to lose you, crushed by the overwhelming fear that you were already leaving.

“Why do you ask that?” he added, his voice trembling slightly.

“Because I'm not the girl you deserve.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” He turned abruptly.

His hands had already moved to your shoulders, holding you with the same gentleness he had for so many years.

“I... I love you. I don't give a damn about the distance! I don't care what happened with your powers or any of this. I mean it. I love you.”

“And I love you,” you sobbed, feeling tears held back for months threatening to choke you. “I love you in a way you can't imagine. But...”

“No. There is no 'but'. Don't do this to me. Please.”

His hand gripped yours, the desperation palpable in the touch. The silence was dense, heavy, drowned out by the distant noise of city traffic. But the sentence was already passed in the deepest part of your being. Because you loved him too much to destroy him.

Even though you both changed the subject, the tension remained. Shortly after, you went back into the room. He lay on the bottom bunk, defeated, his chest heaving with silent panic. You leaned over him, stopping mere inches from his face, wrapped in the dim light.

“You know I would never hurt you, right?” you whispered, caressing his cheek with infinite tenderness.

“I know,” he replied in a thread of a voice.

“And you know I'm going to love you no matter what happens, right?”

“I know.”

He surged forward and kissed you. It was a desperate, almost voracious kiss, a trench against destiny. He held you by the waist and the nape of your neck with a strength bordering on agony, pressing you against his chest as if sensing you were turning into water slipping through his fingers.

Tears spilled uncontrollably from your eyes, wetting both your cheeks. He started upon feeling you cry and lowered his hands, alarmed, but you didn't give him time to speak. You kissed him again. You kissed him until breath escaped your lungs, mixing the bitter taste of your tears with the warm breath escaping his lips. It was the kiss of a lifetime condensed into a few seconds.

Trembling, you brought your fingers to your temple. A stifled, heart-wrenching sob escaped your chest.

Would you be capable? Was your love so boundless, so destructive, as to commit this cruel mercy?

Yes. Because loving him meant saving him from yourself.

With a silent scream that tore your mind apart from the inside, you deployed your telepathy and ventured into his memory.

You began erasing yourself.

You gradually dissolved the stolen kisses, the laughs in the debate club, and the college promises, but also the childhood afternoons in his living room, the scraped knees, and an entire life growing up together. You erased every conversation, every glance, and every shared heartbeat, transforming a colossal love into a hazy fog, into a mere nameless void.

You exterminated over a decade of memories piece by piece, watching the light in his eyes grow dull as the connections severed in his brain.

Your own mind wailed at the sacrilege of erasing the only pure thing you had left in the world.

Feeling the weight of his body relax under the telepathic sedation, you laid his head on the pillow with infinite sweetness. His eyes, now serene and empty of you, closed slowly.

You leaned down one last time, brushing your lips against his cool forehead.

“Goodbye, Peter.”

Peter. That was his name.

“A-Are you really okay? Did you get hurt?”

You were already on your feet. You hadn't realized tears were streaming down uncontrollably until you ran your fingers across your cheeks. Your hands were trembling.

An excruciating doubt seized you inevitably: what had made you forget him? How could such a piece of your soul disappear from your life?

“Do you need me to call someone?”

You hadn't articulated a single word since he helped you up. Your absolute silence only fueled the confusion and concern growing in his eyes with every passing second.

He was so different. He looked older, mature, undeniably handsome... but there was no doubt: it was him. It was your Peter.

From his perspective, you must have looked completely terrified. Your fixed stare and ragged breathing made you look as though you were seeing a dead man brought back to life.

“No,” you managed to reply.

Stumbling, you backed away from him. You grabbed your belongings immediately and walked to the counter, leaving a bill that doubled the value of what you had ordered.

Then you walked out. Without looking back.

Let me know if you want to be tagged in part two! ♡

[marsaffair]

this was so beautifully written 😭 after watching bnd yesterday, this is exactly what i needed!!

[heymeowmao]

逐玉 | Pursuit of Jade - Chasing Jade E1 ° It's alright now.

[shadequeen712]

The lighting in this scene was so beautiful ❤️

[seospicybin]

COVET SERIES.

Felix x reader x Bangchan. (s,a)

Synopsis: When a friend of your dad set you up with his son, you hope to see the man you used to love— but it was his stepbrother who showed up instead, Felix. He is your student. Too bold. Too young. But also impossible to resist. Then Chris returns—gentle, steady, still the same man you once dreamed of. Now you're stuck between the past that once had your heart… and the boy who’s learning how to break it.

Preview & masterlist under cut!

...

The café is warm and quiet, tucked into a corner of the city where everything feels slow and curated. Jazz plays softly through the speakers, and the hanging lights above each table give off that soft golden glow that makes everything feel more intimate than it should.

You chose the booth by the window. Partly for the view, partly so you could look like you weren’t desperately scanning the room every time the front door opened and it's thirty-seven minutes past the appointed time.

It’s not like him to be late.

Chris—at least the Chris you used to know—was punctual. Thoughtful. Someone who would’ve shown up early and probably brought flowers and smiled that boyish, dimpled smile that made your stomach do flips.

You’re on your second latte now because the first one went cold while you kept glancing at the entrance like an idiot. This one’s mostly foam, but your hands need something to do. You pull out your compact and reapply your lipstick. Again.

God, this is ridiculous.

You keep telling yourself he’ll walk in any minute now. That he probably just got caught in traffic. That maybe he’s circling the block trying to find parking. That he’ll be here, and it’ll be worth it. That all this effort—all this nervous energy and too-tight hope—will mean something.

The bell above the door rings and you don’t look up. You’re tired of looking up. Tired of the tiny jolt of anticipation that always dissolves into another stranger, another group of friends, another barista returning from break.

You take a sip of your latte and slump slightly into your seat, letting your shoulders relax for the first time in an hour. And that’s when you feel it. A presence. Eyes on you.

You glance up, expecting… no one. Expecting just another unfamiliar face. But what you see is a black leather jacket. Tousled blond hair. And that unmistakable, shit-eating smirk.

Felix. He’s standing near the entrance, hands tucked casually into the pockets of his jacket, head tilted just slightly like he’s amused. Like he meant to find you here.

You blink, completely thrown, stomach dropping as your brain tries to piece it together. He sees your confusion—and it only makes his grin deepen. He walks toward your table like he belongs here. Like this is a game and he’s been playing it longer than you realized.

And the worst part? He looks good. Too good. The kind of good that makes your throat dry.

You sit up straighter, every nerve ending suddenly on high alert. What the hell is he doing here?

This was supposed to be a date with Mr. Bahng's son. Chris. Not with the boy who makes a habit of testing your patience. Not with your student. Not with Felix.

You duck your head instinctively, hand lifting to shield your face like you’re invisible behind a half-full latte and a smear of lip gloss.

But it’s too late. Felix has already seen you.

You hear his boots before you see him—the confident thud of them crossing the café floor. You keep your eyes locked on the swirls in your coffee, praying he’ll just pass by, that this is some bizarre coincidence.

But of course it's not. Felix stops in front of your table. Then, without asking, without a shred of hesitation, he sits right across from you. One arm slung over the back of the booth, legs stretched comfortably, as if he’s been doing this with you every Friday night for years. And that smirk. That goddamn smirk. That smug, lazy, self-satisfied smirk that tells you this isn’t just a coincidence.

You stare at him, jaw tight, but before you can get a word out, he speaks. “Your date is here.”

You scoff. Audibly. “Felix, just because we’re off campus doesn’t mean you can do this.”

He raises his brows, all innocence. “Do what?”

You narrow your eyes. “Whatever this is. Showing up, sitting down—ruining my night.”

“I’m not ruining anything,” he says easily, resting his chin on his hand. “I am your night.”

You blink. “You’re—what?”

“I’m your date.”

You let out a short, humorless laugh. “Nice try.”

But your heart stutters because he’s not joking. He’s not being sarcastic. He’s dead serious.

“No,” you say quickly, voice sharp. “No, you can’t be. It’s supposed to be—”

You stop yourself because you never actually said Chris’s name aloud. You just assumed because who else would it be?

Felix shrugs. Then, slowly, he pulls his phone out of his jacket and turns the screen toward you. There it is. A message thread from someone labeled Mom.

One message in particular, sitting bright and brutal on the screen: "Felix sweetie, don’t forget. Café Verona, 7PM. You’ll be meeting her there. Be nice. Your dad will be so happy if this works out."

No. No, no, no.

Your breath catches in your throat, your lips parting but no words coming out. Your brain tries to string together logic—maybe it’s a prank, maybe he hacked a phone, maybe—

But your name is there. The café’s name. The time. It’s real.

You stare at the message again, then at him, your voice cracking when you finally manage, “But—Mr. Bahng said—his son…”

Felix lets out a low chuckle, tilting his head slightly. “Yeah. His stepson.”

He watches you with something gentler now beneath the smugness, like he knows the floor has just been pulled out from under you. “You didn’t know?” he asks casually. “He married my mom eight years ago.”

The air around you thins. You grip the edge of the table like it’ll keep you grounded.

Mr. Bahng. Your second father. Your comfort in this city. And Felix—the boy who’s made it his mission to get under your skin—is his stepson.

You feel it all at once. The burn of humiliation. The dizzying confusion. The heavy drop in your stomach like the whole night has collapsed under its own weight.

Your voice barely makes it past your lips. “This… has to be a mistake.”

But you know it’s not.

Felix leans back in the booth, watching you unravel with maddening calm, and that smirk returns—less teasing now. More… inevitable.

“Guess you’re stuck with me tonight, Professor.”

...

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER ONE

or you can read it on my Patreon:

COVET: CHAPTER ONE | seospicybin

Get more from seospicybin on Patreon

CHAPTER TWO

or you can read it on my Patreon:

COVET: CHAPTER TWO | seospicybin

Get more from seospicybin on Patreon

CHAPTER THREE

Or you can read it on my Patreon:

COVET: CHAPTER THREE. | seospicybin

Get more from seospicybin on Patreon

FINAL CHAPTER Or you can read it on my Patreon:

COVET: FINAL CHAPTER. | seospicybin

Get more from seospicybin on Patreon

[diaryofkio]

between the stacks.

Pairing: Popular! Tomoya x Nerd! Reader

Genre: Contemporary Romance, School AU

Warnings: mild physical altercation, suggestive tension, kissing

Summary: A quiet afternoon at a local library turns into the start of something new when the school's most popular boy falls for the resident nerd over a book...literally.

kio's diary | Hi my loves !! this fic is based on this request. As I've said before, I haven't seen true beauty so this might not be as accurate to the show but I still hope you enjoy. Requests are always open<3

(dividers by @kodaswrld)

(made for @fleurenjun)

The Bellwood Public Library was small, quiet, and had a lingering smell of vanilla dust and old paperbacks. It was a kind of place no one from Saebom High School stepped foot in unless they were desperate.

In this case, you were desperate.

The final copy of Astrophysics for Curious Minds had been checked out for weeks. This was bad news considering the fact that your research project was due in four days. When the online catalog updated that Sunday morning, announcing the return of the book, you nearly sprinted the four blocks from your house.

You rounded the corner into the science aisle and stopped dead in your tracks.

A tall figure stood in front of the exact shelf that you were heading towards. Broad shoulders, varsity jacket, pink hair.

Just by those details alone, you knew who it was.

Uemura Tomoya.

Starting quarterback. Student body president. Human embodiment of charm and confidence. The kind of guy who high-fived freshmen in the hallway and somehow knew everyone's name.

He was also the last person you expected to see holding the book you needed.

His hand reached out at the exact same moment that yours did.

Your fingers grazed his.

You both grabbed the spine.

A beat of silence passed between you two.

"Uh," he said, glancing down at your hands tangled together, then at you. "I think I had it first."

"You didn't," you shot back immediately, tightening your grip. "I've been waiting three weeks for this."

He raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk plastered on his stupidly handsome face. "Funny. So have I."

You tugged.

He tugged back.

"Let go," you hissed, looking around to make sure the librarian Mrs.Donnelly wasn't watching from the front desk.

"You let go first." he countered, smiling like this was the highlight of his day.

"This is for my academic future."

"It's for mine too."

"You don't even know what astrophysics are!"

"You don't know that."

"You're literally the quarterback."

"And?" His grin widened. "You think we can't read?"

You gave the book a sharp pull.

He stumbled forward.

You stumbled back.

In a tragic, humiliating, slow-motion chain reaction, your heel got caught on the carpet seam.

You fell.

He fell with you.

The book fell from both of your hands as he landed right on top of you with a startled "whoa!"

The air whooshed out of your lungs.

Silence.

Tomoya's hands were planted on either side of your head. Your back was pressed against the thin library carpet. His face was hovering inches away from yours.

In that moment, you were suddenly very aware of how warm he felt.

Very aware of how close his lips were.

Aware of how his expression shifted from playful to something entirely different.

Something gentle.

Your heart slammed against your ribs.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

You swallowed. "Get off of me."

He blinked, then scrambled up, offering his hand.

You ignored it and stood up on your own, brushing the invisible dust off your sweater. The book lay abandoned between you.

For a second, neither of you moved, as if time had frozen in place.

Then he bent down, picked up the book, and held it out to you.

"You take it." he said.

Your brain short-circuited. "What?"

"I'll figure something out."

You stared at him suspiciously. "Why?"

He shrugged, although there was something unreadable in his eyes. "Guess I owe you for tackling you in a library."

"You fell."

"Because you pulled."

You hesitated before taking the book. Your fingers brushed again.

"Thanks." you muttered.

"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "See you around."

You thought that would be the end of it.

Turns out, it wasn't.

Monday morning, Saebom High felt different.

Or maybe you did.

You were halfway to your locker when you felt it.

That stare.

You glanced up.

Across the hallway, leaning against the lockers like he didn't have a care in the world, stood Tomoya.

He wasn't talking to anyone.

He was looking at you.

When your eyes met, he didn't look away.

Instead, he smirked slightly, as if you shared some type of secret.

Heat crawled up your neck.

You turned away too quickly and nearly walked chest-first into a sophmore.

From that day on, the tension was unbearable.

In chemistry, you'd feel his gaze on you during lab.

In lunch, his laughter would cut through the noise and make your stomach flip.

Once, in the hallway, your shoulders brushed as you passed each other.

Neither of you exchanged any words.

But the air felt electric.

Soon, your friends started to notice.

"Why does Tomoya always stare at you?" Your bestfriend Mia demanded one afternoon.

"He doesn't"

"He totally does. He looks at you as if he's in love or something."

You weren't sure what unsettled you more -- the staring, or the fact that you were starting to look for it.

Then came Friday.

You stayed late after school to finish a project in the library. Predictable, you knew.

What you didn't expect was to find Tomoya there.

Alone.

Sitting at a table with his notebook open.

He looked up as you walked in.

There it was again

That stare.

"You're stalking my study spots now?" you asked, trying to sound unaffected.

He huffed out a laugh. "I could say the same to you."

You paused before sitting at the opposite end of the table.

A wave of quietness stretched between you.

Thick.

Finally, he closed his notebook.

"Can I ask you something?"

You braced yourself. "Sure."

"Why do you look at me like I'm going to ruin your life?"

Your head snapped up. "I don't."

"You do."

He leaned forward slightly, elbows on the table.

"I don't get it. I mean...I thought we were kind of...okay? After the whole library wrestling incident."

Your face burned. "That was embarrassing."

"For you?" he asked softly. "Because it's honestly the best thing that's happened to me in a while."

Your brain went blank.

"Huh?"

He stood, slowly walking around the table until he was in front of you.

"Ever since that day," he admitted, voice lower now, "I can't stop thinking about you."

Your pulse pounded in your ears.

"You barely even know me."

"I want to."

The sincerity in his expression knocked the sarcasm right out of you.

"I like that you fought me for a book," he continued. "I like that you didn't care who I was. I like that you look at me like I have something to prove."

He stepped closer.

"And I want to."

You stood before your knees could betray you.

"You're already popular," you whispered. "You don't need to prove anything."

"Maybe I do," he said gently. "Just not to everyone."

The space between you shrank.

Your breath hitched.

"If I kiss you," he murmured, "are you going to tackle me again?"

Despite everything, you laughed.

"Probably."

"Worth it."

At that moment, he kissed you.

Soft at first. Testing the waters.

When you didn't pull away, his hand slid to your waist, steadying you. Your fingers curled into the front of his jacket.

It wasn't dramatic.

It wasn't rushed.

It felt like a dream.

When you finally broke apart, you were both slightly breathless.

"So," he started, forehead resting lightly against yours. "Does this mean I can borrow your astrophysics book sometime?"

You rolled your eyes, yet you were smiling.

"Maybe," you said. "If you promise not to fall on me again."

He grinned.

"No promises."

[hyunpic]

hyunjin receives a letter from haru 🖤

[shadequeen712]

Omg, that’s so cute 💖

[bettystonewell]

GET TO KNOW YOUR MUTUALS!

Rules: answer and tag six people you want to know better

Thanks for thinking of/tagging me @thoughtslikeaminefield It’s been a pleasure interacting with you the past couple of days ❤️

1. Favourite colour: Teal

2. Last song: Save Tonight - Eagle Eye Cherry

3. Currently reading: Outlander Series (technically it’s collecting dust on my bookshelf because I mostly read fanfic…)

4. Currently watching: Single’s Inferno, Medium, and forever casually rewatching SPN

5. Currently craving: the bag of sweet chilli & sour cream chips I bought earlier (just waiting for kiddos to go to bed)

6. Coffee or tea: coffee! An iced latte any season.

@losers-clvb @middleearthislife @my-stories-vault @supernotnatural2005 @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth @jollyhunter

[jeonlic]

THANKS 4 THE TAG BB!! 🥹💗

favourite colours : currently its light blue, but it changes every other day

last song : leave me alone, by reneè rapp

currently reading : the reappearance of rachel price, by holly Jackson (MY QUEEEEN)

currently watching : a good girls guide to murder s1

coffee or tea : coffee, but mocha frappe all the way

tagging : @jeonette, @cocoakook, @siucde, @kookquettes, @jeontube (js ignore if you dont wanna participate <3)

[siucde]

aaa tnx for the tag b x

fav color — black (mulberry recently)

last song — baked chicken by so supa

currently reading — the fault in our stars by john green (rereading)

currently watching — jjk s3 & euphoria (rewatching s1)

coffee or tea — tea (ion fw coffee..)

tagging @websterss @apobangpogirlyyy @solecize @chaos-library (ignore if not interested x)

[chaos-library]

IM SO LATE BUT THANK YOU FOR THE TAG BB 🫶🏻⭐️

Favorite color - blue/black

Last song - red desert by 5SOS

Currently reading - A Harvest of Hearts by Andrea Eames (it’s so good highly recommend!)

Currently watching - Jersey Shore (for the thousandth time it’s my comfort show lmao)

Coffee or tea - I love both just depends on how I’m feeling! (But let’s be real I drink coffee more lmao)

Tags: @selenewowww @shadequeen712 (if you want to no pressure!) and all my other lovely moots and anyone on the dash that wants to join! 🫶🏻⭐️

[shadequeen712]

Hey, thank you so much for tagging me BB ❤️

Favorite color- pink/purple/blue

Last song- Go Big or Go Home by Enhypen (i love Enhypen's music, but if it's hard to listen to right now with the Heeseung situation I understand)

Currently reading- So many webtoons lol (Observing My Mom's Friend's Son in particular, it's super spicy and awesome). I also just started Kindred by Octavia E. Butler (a bit of a heavy choice but I recommend if you want more reads by black authors)

Currently watching - One Piece Season 2 (It's awesome, definitely check it out if you haven't seen it)

Coffee or tea- Both depending on the time of day. Morning/early afternoon is coffee and late afternoon/night is tea.

Tags: @borathae @ateezthings @captainjeon @mssishipi @webslingingslasher @elizabethgracew

I just tagged you guys either because we've talked before in the past or I really enjoy your fics and I'm curious about you. I would love to hear from anyone, you're always welcome to reach out. Thanks 💖

[jjungkkook]

BTS IS BACK!

[shadequeen712]

The Boys Are Back!!!! ⟭⟬🙏🏽

[minyoonjin]

MIN YOONGI | COMEBACK LIVE - TRAILER

HANDSOME

[shadequeen712]

I'm so ready for this, like I can't even 😭 He looks so fine 🤧

[jung-koook]

JUNGKOOK BTS THE COMEBACK LIVE TRAILER

[shadequeen712]

I'm not okay🫠

[thesweetiepienovels]

Actually, you are enough. Even if you don’t work. Or study. Or go out. Or have friends. Or have family. You’re enough because you exist and your existence is enough to be enough because you are not a product. You are not a sum of output. You are not a task to complete. But because you are something the universe wanted and put here even if you’ll never understand why. Somewhere in the cosmos your existence makes a difference, even if it’s not the way others existences do.

[dogs99999]

I literally love being at home! In my own space! Comfortable! Not surrounded by people!

[shadequeen712]

Real

[hyrude]

“it’s just not my thing” voted most useful phrase for conflict avoidance for the third year in a row. “sorry, i’m in a weird mood” a close runner up

[shadequeen712]

The way I've said this so much 💀

[holdmyhypen-deactivated20260311]

Bₑₛₜ bₒy ₑᵥₑᵣ!

genre: beastboy! Jungwon x female!reader

summary: Jungwon's life could be described as reckless and irresponsible by many, but he loved it. Fighting criminals on the day and turning into any kind of animal at night to survive the city. At least it worked. Until he decides to turn into a cat to sleep in the dumpster and the next day wakes up in some comfortable sheets. Now he has to find a way to explain the situation to the woman that picked him up.

warnings! 18+, oral sex (female receiving), Jungwon might be a lil bit of a pervert, face sitting amd a bit manhandling (?)

enjoy!

Now, Jungwon is damn aware that his life might not be the usual one that a normal guy in his early twenties might experience,it turns out when your parents are scientists and you get a lethal disease your life for sure changes. 

He now gets to transform into any kind of animal Jungwon could ever dream of. Could have been worse, right? He does not have a home, but still. It is not like he doesn’t work! Fighting criminals is definitely a job he doesn’t get paid tho.  Which means he can’t precisely afford anything at all, that’s why he changes into animals pretty much every night. 

Tonight is not any different, Jungwon turns into a cat and looks around. There must be a place somewhere he can sleep. Also it is not like he sleeps all night long, most of the times he gets woken up by some motherfuckers that enjoy harassing animals. 

Then, he finally sees hope in a dumpster. At everyone their own, apparently. Cat Jungwon jumps inside of it and curls up against the extremely uncomfortable plastic bag inside of it. Somehow, Jungwon manages to close his eyes and make an attempt to fall asleep.

Jungwon turns around, that’s weird, the plastic bag is now really comfy and warm. He must be so tired that he’s picturing things like they aren’t. He stretches out expecting to hit the dumpster, but he doesn’t, his full body stretches out yet he is sure the dumpster is pretty small. 

Wait, for how long has he been sleeping? Nobody woke him up tonight? That's really weird. Jungwon finally opens his eyes. Oh, shit.

He’s on some cozy white bedsheet, inside of a bedroom of someone’s house. The bed is only undone on one side, Jungwon guesses he must have been picked up by only one person.  His head lifts up to scan the new place around him: a glass bottle of water on the nightstand, a few pouches on what it looks like a vanity and books all over the place, right in front of the bed there is a clothes rack full of long coats and knee high boots. 

Jungwon suddenly turns around when he hears the door on his side opening and a woman wrapped in a white towel comes out. He can see her skin still a bit damp and a smile shaping her lips once she notices he’s awake. 

“Hello baby” the woman pets him, her soft hand on his back. 

Now, Jungwon finds himself in very weird occasions pretty much everyday but this? Oh, but the best is just about to happen. 

Jungwon tilts his head to the side, the woman laughs and takes off her towel with nothing but a small pair of gray underwear to cover her. 

Jungwon actually meows. All his concerns are completely gone. He has never been happier to be a cat, like ever. 

He watches you as you move towards the drawer in your dresser, slightly bending over to grab whatever piece of clothing that will block Jungwon’s view. 

He meows again, you laugh “Talkative, are we?” You put your bra on, just to turn around and see the cat sitting straight up right in front of you. 

You were walking home from work with an empty cup of coffee in your hand and on your way you spotted a dumpster and decided to get rid of it. Thank god you saw the cat inside of it before throwing your cup and decided to take him home. 

“You’re such a good boy” You pet him right before wearing your shirt and suit to leave for work, the cat meows again and rubs himself on your thigh. 

“Aw, you are such a cutie! I will leave you some water and later go shopping for some food alright, baby?” 

Jungwon just found out that the line between a dream and a nightmare is really blurry. He follows you in your house as you place down a small bowl for him with some water, grab your bag and leave. 

Right after he hears you lock the door from the outside, he transforms back into human. “What the fuck just happened” 

He tries to pinch himself on the arm, goes into your bathroom to wash his face with freezing cold water. 

Nope, this is not a hallucination, it all really happened. What the hell is he supposed to do now? It is not like Jungwon could turn into his human form in front of you and explain everything after he saw you naked. And meowed, he also meowed but a man has needs! Don’t blame him. 

Could he live forever as your cat? That could be a solution, if he was in his right mind he wouldn’t be thinking this, but the thought of seeing your naked body everyday corrupted his mind in such a sweet way that he doesn’t even care about anything else. 

You even called him a good boy, like! If he wasn’t a cat in the moment that would have been one of the best erotic fantasies he ever experienced in life. 

After a while, some deep breaths and a bowl of water later, he finally remembers that he is Beast Boy. A whole superhero that fights with the teen titans. Don’t underestimate him! He fights along with the child of Batman, that basically makes Jungwon Batman’s nephew.  

He could explain the situation to you, maybe he can lie and say that he doesn’t always fully remember what happens when he is an animal… that could work. Maybe he could also add that it’s only when he regains consciousness that he can transform back so that’s why he waited so long. 

The thing is that he doesn’t even know for how long you would be gone for, so Jungwon doesn’t fully have much time to reflect.

 Shit, he should go back to the thought of living as your cat,maybe he can even make a pros and cons list to decide. Pros: a house, warmth, hot woman, food, the hot woman might be naked, she calls me a good boy, water.  Cons: might get stuck as a cat forever 

Doesn’t sound that bad. 

Jungwon is still deep in his thoughts when he hears the key enter the door and quickly turns into a cat again. 

You immediately look for the cat, you spot the animal over your kitchen counter “Hello baby!” You put your reusable bags down and pet Jungwon “how did you do all alone?” The cat meows once, then twice. 

“Oh, my bad! You must be so hungry!” You can’t even move to go back at the bags that the animal jumps in front of you, he meows again. 

You are confused, your hands try to reach the bags again and you hear another meow. 

God, Jungwon really cannot do it. You even went all out and bought him food and toys! He must tell you the truth even if it means you will hate him after it. Still, he decides that turning straight up into a man might actually be a little too intense. 

He takes a deep breath, you look at the cat’s small chest rise and fall back down before transforming into a bird. It happened so quickly you are not even sure it happened to begin with, what was the cat body stretching out just to get pressed down in an unnatural way… not that a cat transforming is natural to begin with.

You take a step back, your hands fly on your mouth to cover it, the bird doesn’t fly but takes small hops towards you. And then it clicked.

“B-beast boy?” Your voice is so shaky that it makes his heart shrink and he finally turns back into a human. Jungwon is now fully in front of you, his back is a bit bent, like he’s afraid to scare you even more. His brown hair is messy, yet Jungwon would swear it’s not even half as bad as it would have been if he slept in the dumpster and for the same reason the bags underneath his eyes are not the worst he ever had. 

“Hello” Jungwon very awkwardly waves, he’s acting like you are the worst enemy he ever faced. “I’m sorry” his hands rub together.

You stay silent, Jungwon is not able to tell if it’s because you are shocked or disgusted yet he feels like he has to fill in the silence 

“I swear I did not mean anything wrong. I just… I don't have a place to stay and living in the night city as an animal is way easier than it is as a man, especially if people recognise me” He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down “I- well… You can call me Jungwon, if you wanted to call me at all- I mean…” 

“Jungwon?” He is very grateful you are finally saying something, Jungwon was about to tell you everything that comes across his mind and that would have been pretty bad 

“Yes?” His eyes never leave your figure, he notices the way your features are getting loose, your body slowly relaxing from your tense shoulders all the way down to how harshly you were pressing your legs together. 

“What do you mean you don’t have a place?” Between all the questions Jungwon would have guessed you to ask, that was not even in his top ten. But of course, he answers: 

“My parents are gone and for as much as I work with the Teen Titans, pretty much all of them have someone and I don’t want to ask for help” He chuckles looking at your confused face, you don’t even need to ask anything that Jungwon is already going on with his last sentence. 

“A superhero asking for help? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?” Your eyes move back from him and the bags of cat stuff you bought. Fuck your mind is going so fast you don’t even know what to ask. 

So you don’t ask anything, your body almost moves on its own as you reach Jungwon to hug him. He wraps his arms around you within a second, your head finds the curve of his neck and his chin rests in between your hair, Jungwon closes his eyes. 

“Thank you” He whispers and he finds himself relax on you even more when he feels your hands moving up and down his spine “You are doing so much for me” 

You gently move your head up a bit, the tip of your nose is touching Jungwon’s “Can I repay you?” 

“How?” 

Just like that, his lips meet yours. 

Jungwon really can’t help it, he feels a very strong connection with you. It’s not only about your body but the way you show kindness to what you thought was a stray cat, you even went all the way out and you bought him who knows how many things and now that he told you the truth, you are not judging him. If anything, you are helping him,again. 

You can feel him smiling on your lips when you finally kiss him back, not that it takes long to do so. You had many questions to ask him but the warmth of his body made you forget each one of them. 

The kiss is feathery light, his lips are barely touching yours yet his arms around your body are holding you firmly, each touch of his is showing you a different side of him. You want to explore both. 

“Are you holding back?” Somehow you manage to ask in between kisses, Jungwon smirks “You know, I have a bit of an…. animal side in me. It’s not like I can be dangerous to you but still not the best thing to show on a first time” 

“I want you to” 

Jungwon's head feels light, actually he is not feeling anything that’s not his hard cock in his trousers. He lifts you up in his arms and quickly takes you in your bedroom. 

“Sit on my face” 

His movements are sharp and quickly while he undoes the button of your trousers and kisses you again. “Wait- Jungwon what?” 

“Please, sit on my face” You are red in the face, you can’t believe what he’s saying, what he’s begging you to do. 

Jungwon doesn’t even wait for you to move, his large hands sit on your hips just to lift your body up and make you sit on his face. Immediately his hot tongue hits your clothed core, a little whine escapes your lips, Jungwon can’t wait to hear more of your sounds. 

“Give me more baby” He breathes and for as much as he would like to keep teasing you, he moves your panties to the side, his wet tongue meets your pussy, your wetness coating his tongue, his whining sending a vibration right up against your clit. 

You are a complete mess of moans, from small to loud sounds coming from your lips every time his tongue touches you. You move so much that Jungwon has to keep you still by grabbing your ass, the pressure of his hands on you just drive you even crazier. 

Until he does not, his hands are still on you but this time he is helping you to move on his face. 

“Ride me baby” Jungwon moans “please, cum on my face, I need it, please” His tongue doesn’t stop its erratic dance between your legs, not even when you finally cum. 

Your orgasm hits you, maybe even a little too soon that you wished for, you make a mess over his lips and chin, Jungwon couldn’t be happier. 

It has been a month now since the cat stuffed bags entered your house and they are still there. 

“I still don’t understand why you can’t just eat it, babe” Jungwon almost chokes on the pizza he was eating when he registered what you said.

“Love, there is no way you want me to eat cat food” On the cat topic, Jungwon should probably be glad that you are only want to talk about how much you bought for the cat over the fact that he stared at your naked body when he was a feline.

“Why? you said you have an animal instinct! Just turn into a cat and have your dinner” 

“Yeah, the instinct to fuck you stupid on the bed not to eat canned tuna with god knows what else!” 

You cross your hands over your chest “that’s it I’m closing the window tonight”  Jungwon’s jaw drops open. 

Since the two of you have started dating a month ago, you have always left a bit of your kitchen window open, so that he could join you home whenever he would want, by turning in the animal he is feeling that day. 

“What if we donate them? There are many shelters that need help” You look at the hopeful smile on his lips, he really doesn’t want to go back into sleeping on the streets. Understandable.

You laugh and give him a kiss on the cheeks, he blushes as if he didn’t eat you out the very first time he met you. “That’s a great idea” 

Jungwon smiles “You know I love you, right?” his arms wrap around your waist, you run your fingers in his hair. 

“I would hope so” He kisses you hand “I’m serious babe” 

“You know, sometimes I do miss the cat that I owned for like… three hours” Jungwon doesn’t even give you time to fully close your mouth that he turns into the same exact cat. 

A ear-to-ear smile shapes your lips, you bent over to give him a kiss in between his pointy ears.

“Best boy ever”

- 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙴𝙽𝙳

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

en-hero taglist: @nikimur4 @browni3sh @kawaiislutt @yeeunlvr @heekolazz @yenienha @reading-wh0re @velourvixen @synamon @moonstrucksofie @justhornylol

[shadequeen712]

I absolutely love this fic, it's so adorable 😻 Cat Jungwon is the best

[wooyos]

ATEEZ – 'Adrenaline' MV Teaser

[shadequeen712]

Omg omg omg

[bnghvn]

I HAVE NOTHING APPROPRIATE TO SAY.

FUCK DAMN IT CHRIS!!!!!

#onlychans is so fuck on

[shadequeen712]

😵 I have no words lol, he wants me unhinged and he's got it 👍🏽

[kurolils]

the way i haven’t seen a SINGLE FIC with THIS moment as an inspiration is KILLING ME

PLEASE???? SOMEONE????

[shadequeen712]

Lol same, and chile he killed me with this 💀🙏🏽