#so i do that and buy the same headphones as the broken ones in hopes that theyd be of the same quality | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sleepy-belphie · 4 years

Note

I have a request if you’re up for it. An MC who just arrived in the Devildom who’s lover just dumped them the day prior. The bros know MC isn’t emotionally or romantically available at the time but the bros still fall in love regardless. How will the bros handle the situation? Thank you! 🙏💗

Hi! I sort of took this idea and ran with it and wrote basically a headcanon short story for each bro lmao. Sorry I got a bit carried away but I hope you like this and it satisfies you! :)

Also thank you so much @midnight-dome for the help with Asmo, you’re a lifesaver

Tags: @kawaiiblack

~~~~~

Lucifer:

The success of the program depends on your wellbeing

So he checks in on you every other day like clockwork

“Is there anything you need to make your stay more comfortable?”

You always say no

At first, he’s glad you’re staying in

Because it means less trouble for him

But when you skip all of your classes one day, he comes to your room ready to give you a firm reminder of your tasks here

He’s about to knock when he hears you sob

Now, Lucifer has heard a lot of crying in his life

But he’s never heard someone sound so completely broken

He shocks himself when he turns on his heels and walks away

He shocks himself even more when he texts the group chat and demands everyone leaves you alone for the day

That evening he comes into your room with a small plate of food

By then you were are least on top of your sheets

You knew he was gonna ask the same question as always

But this time, his words were different

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Help?”

He simply nods

And though he didn’t outright say what he meant by help, you knew

“I...don’t know?”

“Hm, okay. I’m going to listen to some music in my study. The door will be unlocked should you wish to join me.”

Then he’s gone

The few precious moments Lucifer isn’t working, he prefers to not be disturbed

So why on earth did he invite you to join him in his study?

He doesn’t have time to ponder it because the door opens and you come in with a blanket wrapped around you

The first night you both listen in comfortable silence

A few nights in, you start asking Lucifer about the records he puts on and he has no qualms educating you on it

On night 10 you tell him about the breakup

Once you’re done he, again, asks the same question

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

‘You’ve done more than enough to help me Lucifer, thank you.”

He finds himself blushing from the sincerity in your eyes and the warmth in your smile

That night you fall asleep before the record finishes

Surely you’d wake up aching if he left you in a chair

So he picks you up, carries you to your room, and tucks you into bed carefully

He tells himself he’s doing it for Diavolo

It’s for the program, this is his job

He’s gonna need time to accept his own feelings before he can tell you anything

For now, he’ll keep doing his “job” and spending evenings with you

Mammon:

He didn’t want to be your babysitter

He was a busy guy! He had stuff to do, money to make, things to steal

Some days he gets Beelzebub to keep an eye on you so he can do what he wants

One night in particular he heads to your room to make sure you won’t interfere with his plans

“Yo! The Great Mammon has things to do so don’t-”

He pauses when he sees you sitting on your bed with your headphones plugged into your laptop

He would have assumed you were just watching a sad movie by the tears streaks on your face

But the pain in your eyes…

He’s seen that look before

His brothers held that same look the day they fell from Heaven and lost Lilith

Mammon sits on the bed and you jump, finally noticing him

You expected him to make fun of you but instead, he grabs the tissue box on your bedside table and hands it to you

He glances at your laptop to see what you were watching and sees a paused video of you and someone else

You tell him about the breakup and Mammon listens closely

“What a jerk! Ya deserve better than that! I’d teach ‘em a lesson if they ever showed their face around here!”

You smile for the first time since he came in the room and he feels like he’s done something right

“How about we get some late-night food? I know a 24-hour restaurant with the best baked newt ever. Your treat.”

He’s shocked when you agree

He makes a point to hang out with you more often

He can’t recall exactly when you went from “a human” to “his human”

Maybe it was when you held his hand while you erased all your photos and videos of your ex from your computer

Or when you texted him at 3am because you couldn’t sleep and before he could even think about it he was up and on his way to your room

Or when he spotted you in one of his jackets while walking home from RAD

But his greed was kicking in and he wanted you to be his and only his

However, much like he puts himself first, he knows you need to do the same

So though his nature and mind wants to kiss you silly and have you for himself

Part of him knows he’ll ruin things if he lets his greed take over

So he’ll fight his nature and try his best to be patient

Leviathan:

He had been playing one of his games online

He’s on a big winning streak and feeling a bit cocky

He sees he’s been matched with someone else so he gets into gamer mode

Then he loses the first round

He’s a bit shocked and pissed that his streak was now broken but he has to prove his superiority to whoever this opponent was

So he rematches them

And loses again

And again

He loses 7 rounds in a row

By this point he is fuming

So like any salty gamer he sends a very lengthy, angry message to their inbox

Accusing them of using cheats and hacks because there was no way anyone was more skilled than him at this game

He gets a reply a few minutes later

“Um.....is this Leviathan? Avatar of Envy? It’s MC…”

You knew it was Levi because his username is the same across all his social media platforms

Cue Levi barreling into your room a minute later

“How are you so good!? You’re cheating, aren’t you!? You cheater!’

You weren’t cheating, you just had been playing games day in and day out to distract yourself so you got really good at it

Levi all but demands you to come to his room and show him what you know

You were already playing all night anyway so why not play with someone?

Initially, Levi would have you come over just to show him your tactics

(Also to get some team wins on his stats because he never has anyone to play with)

But you were actually pretty chill for a normie

Maybe if he exposed you to his otaku ways you would take to them and he wouldn’t be the only one in the house anymore!

You don’t become an otaku but you do get invested in almost every anime he shows you

He starts inviting you over for midnight premieres of new episodes

He starts buying extra merch because what if you wanted one?

He was used to disproving looks from his brothers when he mass buys stuff from Akuzon

But you only smile and listen when he tells you about his new special edition item

You never once judged him and his unconventional ways

This epiphany makes him extra nervous for your weekly hangouts

It was only a matter of time before you came across a break up in an anime

When the episode ended you told him about your break up and how the protagonist reminded you of yourself because they also were taking a break from love

Levi has seen this anime before actually

He remembers how the protagonist reacted to a side character confessing to them and it went bad

So while he knows he likes you, he holds off on saying anything because the last thing he wants is to be a bad story arc in your life

Lucky for him he’s always a flustered blushing mess so you shouldn’t suspect a thing

Satan:

He is the Avatar of Wrath so whenever there is rage, he is aware

He feels anger radiating through the house one day and thinks his brothers are just fighting again

Imagine his surprise when he realizes the source of the anger is coming from your room

He walks in and sees you throwing things around and screaming, your room was destroyed

He sees you’re about to step on some glass and instantly swoops in and picks you up so you don’t hurt yourself

But then you curl up against him and burst into tears

He stands there, not quite sure what to do

He ends up sitting on the bed and letting you cry for a while

You word vomit about your break up and he listens carefully and notes the anger welling up inside you as you speak

He knows all too well what anger can do to someone and a fragile human shouldn’t have to go through that

“Would you like some tea?”

He can spare 30 minutes for some small talk with the human if it meant that you wouldn’t be left in your thoughts

You look at him like he has three heads but agree because your room is a mess and you don’t wanna deal with it right now

Tea time becomes a daily occurrence and soon enough it escalates to full-on hangouts

Going to the bookstore, going to cat cafes, going wherever you wanted to really

One time you both took a day trip to the human world

Lucifer wasn’t happy to find out his brother and you were gone for an entire day but he lets it go when he sees that you’re smiling genuinely for the first time in weeks

What Satan didn’t expect was how these outings made him feel

He finds himself distracted from his books because he can’t stop thinking about how cute you looked holding that black cat at the cafe

Or how happy you looked when you took him to that ice cream shop in your hometown that you really love

He wakes up and you’re the first thing to pop into his mind

He’s not dumb, he knows he’s fallen in love

But he also knows this isn’t the right time, you aren’t ready

So he’ll keep being there for you as a friend

And if you ever want him to be there as something more, he’ll happily oblige

Asmodeus:

There was a movie night at the House of Lamentation

Today’s movie was an action movie, courtesy of Mammon

Amidst all the face punching and explosions, there was a budding romance between the main characters

After the third obnoxious makeout scene, you leave the room claiming you need to go to the restroom

But you leave just a *little* too fast and Asmo can feel something is up

And he thrives on gossip so he intends to find out what is it

He leaves the room a few minutes later and catches you in the hallway, determined to get you to spill the tea

You tell him about the breakup

He wasn’t prepared for the tea to be so bitter

“Oh. Well, you know what’s good for that? Face masks!”

He had to save face somehow and beauty was his default

He’s a bit shocked when you agree but you both ditch movie night to do face masks and talk a bit

He decides to share a couple of bad date experiences he’s had to make you feel better

“Trust me, you haven’t felt embarrassment until you have someone vomit Enfield brains on your new pants and shoes while at one of the hottest clubs in the Devildom.”

You spent the entire night giggling and listening to his stories

Devildom products are surprisingly effective on your skin so you keep asking Asmo to show you new products

Plus his company is nice

Self-care days become a common occurrence

Then those self-care days become self-care sleepovers

He starts intentionally waiting to try anything new because he wants you to be there when he does

He buys more of those scented candles you told him smelled nice

A few weeks later you’re having a self-care sleepover again and you have this really cute focused look on your face while painting your nails

He knows he likes you, but this was different than his usual attraction

He didn’t want to fuck you

Well he did but not just fuck you

He wouldn’t mind if there was something more

But you routinely ended your self-care nights by yelling ‘Fuck love!’ at the top of your lungs and laughing

So he knows now isn’t the time and he’s actually okay with that

You were a sight to behold regardless of his relationship status with you

But he hopes you’ll indulge in him one day

Beelzebub:

Mammon keeps pushing his human watching duties on Beel

But he doesn’t really care because he’s being paid in cheesecake

After his third day of keeping an eye on you, he notices you aren’t eating much

Being the Avatar of Gluttony, this is basically a crime

He starts bringing extra snacks with him when he hangs out with you

“I think the chocolate flavor is better than the vanilla. What do you think?”

He actually doesn’t have a preference

He just wants to know which snacks you like more so he can bring more of them

He makes a game out of it so you don’t think about how much you’re eating

“It motivates me to work out longer when I get a snack, could you help me?”

You sit on his back and after every pushup, you both eat a bit of whatever snack he has

He keeps going until he thinks you’ve eaten a decent amount

Or you say you’re getting full

Belphie notices that Beel is refilling his snack stash more often but he doesn’t say anything

Beel feels an immense sense of accomplishment when you finish your plate at dinner a few days later

Soon after you tell him about the breakup

“It hit me hard but you made it easier to cope, Beel. These hangouts are the highlight of my day so thank you.”

There’s a certain pang Beel gets in his stomach when he’s really hungry

Somehow your words made that pang happen in his chest

But this didn’t hurt him, quite the opposite actually

He felt good, he felt happy

It was strange for his stomach to be the quiet one while his heart went wild

But this wasn’t a change he minded too much

He wasn’t sure what to make of it but he knows he wants to figure it out with you

And he’ll take his time doing so because he liked how things were now

Belphegor:

He’s intrigued by you after the first week of your stay

He’s never seen a human who slept as much as he did

Frankly, he was impressed

Until Lucifer informed everyone about your recent breakup and made it clear to not upset you

That’s when Belphie realized these were not the leisurely naps he takes, but depression naps

One day he sees you sleeping in the living room and you looked so distressed

Sleeping was meant to be a peaceful state but you looked so unhappy

So he wakes you up

“You’re in my sleeping spot.”

You weren’t in his sleeping spot.

“Oh sorry, I’ll move-”

“You’re already here. We can both fit.”

Before you can protest he’s all comfy next to you and falling back asleep

Having another person next to you was kind of comforting so you let it go and go back to sleep

What you didn’t know was Belphie could partially influence your dreams

He can make them more pleasant but he can’t control what you dream about

He knows it works when he wakes up and you have a relaxed expression on your sleeping face

You wake up soon after looking confused

“Good dream?”

“I think? I had a dream I rode a unicorn to the moon then carved my initials into it?”

Napping together in the living room becomes a routine

And every time you woke up you told him about the dream you had with a small smile

A few weeks later he notices he no longer has to influence your dreams for them to be good

So he leaves you be and instead curls up in the attic for his afternoon nap

He wakes up a bit when he feels someone lay down next to him

It’s probably Beel

“Why didn’t you tell me you moved napping spots?”

His eyes open and he looks over to see you pouting at him

“I just sorta ended up here.”

“Well, I can’t nap without my cuddle buddy now can I?”

You’re teasing him and he should be annoyed

But he’s blushing

He spoons you to hide that fact, resting his forehead on your shoulder

But while your dreams were getting better, it didn’t mean you were ready to move on

So he just enjoys his intimate cuddling sessions with you and tries not to think too hard about the fact that he really likes how your body fits against his

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me fluff #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphie x reader #annazonabeth

1K notes · View notes

pies-writes-and-more · 4 years

Note

Hii- if you're taking any request, could I get one where reader, Yamaguchi, and Tsukishima are friends but the reader constantly drops hints that she likes Yams but he misinterprets them as for Tsukki? 👉🏻👈🏻 dkgjsjfje no need to rush yourself tho oki? You can do it in your own time ❤️ hope you have a wonderful day/night! ✨

Word Count: 2,036

Warnings: probably some swearing, a bit of angst but there’s a happy ending promise!

Pairing: Yamaguchi Tadashi x Fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you for the request! I dunno if I fully got the idea you wanted haha but here you go! (Originally thought @thisnoodlewritesao3 gave in this request but apparently she didn’t!!!! So whoever sent this in thank you so much!!!!). Enjoy lovelies!

(not my gif, creds to the original creator :))

Today was the day. Yamaguchi had never been so confident with one of his decisions before. But this one. This one he was sure of.

He tucked the broken pieces of his heart into some deep part of him as he stared at himself in the mirror. He stared at himself in the mirror for a second before nodding to himself. Today was the day, he whispered to himself for what felt like the millionth time. Today was the day he would let go.

He knew it was going to hurt, he knew that his heart was already falling apart but it didn’t matter. How can you be broken hearted over losing someone when they weren’t yours in the first place?

The day started like any other school day, Yamaguchi meeting up with you and Tsukishima on the corner of the street where all your paths met. Like usual, you and Tsukishima were already there since you both lived closer than Yamaguchi did.

“Hi Yams!” You beamed up at him and he tried his best to give a genuine smile back. Why did this smile look so much different than the one you gave Tsukki?

“You took longer than usual,” Tsukishima commented, raising an eyebrow at his best friend.

Yamaguchi had hoped he wouldn’t noticed, but it wasn’t really all that surprising that he did, “Just got up late,” he said with a smile, trying to be convincing.

Tsukishima watched him for a moment, raising an eyebrow as if to ask are you sure you’re okay? Yamaguchi just gave a small nod and then turned to you as you talked about the project that was due today.

He wanted to keep walking with you, listening to you go on about your day, about the dog you saw on your way over, about your family and anything else that made you smile. But he kept slowing down his pace, watching from behind what it would look like, you and Tsukki walking together. Why did you two look so much better than he could ever dream?

“Yams?” Your voice drew him from his thoughts, him offering his typical I’m okay smile. “You seem really out of it today, are you feeling sick?” You asked, pressing a hand to his forehead to check his temperature.

He wanted to press against your hand just a little longer, the feeling of your skin on his always made his heart flutter. But instead, he just laughed and shook his head, “I’m alright. I guess I’m still a little asleep!”

You seemed to buy it and nod, linking your arm with his, “Come on then, don’t slow down on me. If you do, I have to walk with Tsukishima and I don’t think he likes my company,” you laugh.

Tsukishima just rolled his eyes and pulled his headphones on like he normally did in the mornings when the three of you walked together. Yamaguchi always wondered if he did this so he could have more privacy to talk to you. Tsukishima had known right away that Yamaguchi’s heart only beat for you. But what else did he know?

Did he know that Yamaguchi would always step back for him? Did he know that you just seemed so much happier with him, the one who was so much cooler? So much taller? So much smarter? That you would be better off with him?

But you just talked on, trying to get Yams back into how he was normally, asking about his weekend and morning. By the time you all got to school, Tsukishima said something about needing to go find the third years and talk to them about something. It was a lie and Yamaguchi was sure of that.

Tsukishima had been trying to tell him lately to stop being so scared and just tell you how he felt. He even insisted that you had been trying to drop little hints all the time but Yamaguchi was sure that Tsukishima was just exaggerating (though, he wasn’t really the exaggerating kind). But how had Tsukishima not noticed how much time you spent by his side? How had he not realized that you always seemed to try and get his attention, always tried to get him talking?

You had to be in love with Tsukishima Kei, Yamaguchi was sure of that. Because who would ever go for him, an emotional freckled loser, when Tsukki was around?

“Yams, do you think confessing ruins a lot of friendships?” You asked softly as the two of you walked slowly through the almost empty courtyard, not a lot of students on campus yet.

His eyes locked onto yours for a moment, the surprise in them flickering away as he quickly looked away, “What do you mean?”

“I mean... it’s so easy for friends to fall in love isn’t it? You know everything about a person, see everything they are, the good and the bad, and... you just can’t help it.” There was such a lightness to your voice. Yamaguchi’s heart was pounding against his chest, was this the moment you’d tell him? That you were in love with his best friend? What was he even supposed to say?

“I... suppose,” he mumbled quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Are you in love?”

“I’ve never been in love before,” you admitted shyly, smiling up at his direction but still noting that he was refusing to look at you. “But I think I might be.”

Somewhere, Yamaguchi wanted to tell her that Tsukki would never be interested. Even if Yamaguchi wasn’t in love with you, Tsukki didn’t really seem all that interested in relationships right now. So wouldn’t it be better for you to not bother getting her heart broken? Because his was already breaking and it was hurting like hell - shouldn’t he try to save you from that. He wanted to tell you to save yourself, but instead he heard himself say, “You should tell him then...”

He closed his eyes, ready for you to tell him with an excited tone that you were going to find Tsukki. Tell him how you felt. He saw a flash of a lifetime in his head, what you would look like on your first date with Tsukki holding your hand, how your smile would meet Tsukki’s eyes more than Yamaguchi’s, how you would offer your heart to Tsukki, and not Yamaguchi-

“I’m trying to, but he’s refusing to look at me,” you said suddenly, a laugh in your voice. What was that in your laugh? Was that... nervousness?

Yamaguchi’s eyes popped open, looking down at you with surprise. “W-What?”

“If you’d just pay attention to me, this confession would’ve been over a while ago,” you laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of your head. Now that he was looking at you, your eyes didn’t want to meet his.

“Confession?” Yamaguchi’s voice cracked and his ears were burning with embarrassment now.

You bit down on your lip, a nervous habit of yours, and pulled out a cute little teddy bear plush from your backpack, “I got this at the arcade we went to a few days ago. And that day, when it was just you and me, I realized that you’re the only one I want to be with all the time. You’re always there for me and after meeting you, every one of those songs I listen to just... makes sense.”

Yamaguchi was dreaming wasn’t he? He was going to wake up in a few seconds and be sorely disappointed. He was going to punch his pillow and shed a few tears because this was all just a dream right?

“I know we’ve been friends for like forever, and that volleyball takes up a lot of your time lately. But if... I dunno if maybe you feel the same way, maybe we could go on a date sometime? There’s this cute cafe I heard about nearby and they have these milkshakes that I think we would like-” you rambled nervously, noting his open-mouth expression and lack of response.

There was one thing that Yamaguchi was never able to do during dreams. One thing he always wanted to do but always woke up before. He had to wake up before he fell too far in this dream, he had to wake up before he wasn’t able to and this dream took over his whole mind. Before he could think through it rationally, Yamaguchi took your face in his hands and pressed a quick peck to your lips.

His lips felt like heaven against yours, your eyes widening as he stood there, holding your hands like he was even surprised he had been able to do that.

“Y-Yams?” You squeaked, unsure that that had really just happened.

“That doesn’t normally happen,” he murmured to himself, staring down at you like you were going to disappear in a few seconds.

“W-When?” You whispered back, a little confused.

“When I dream about this,” Yamaguchi’s whole face was going red now. His eyes were widening and his fingers were starting to shake against your cheeks. He pulled away from you, clasping a hand against his mouth realizing what he had just done. “I-I’m not dreaming.”

“N-Nope,” you can’t help but laugh, holding a hand over your lips. “You dream about me?”

“Y-Yea. No. I mean. Not like... weird things or anything I just-” Yamaguchi rambled, shaking his hands in front of him nervously. “I’m so sorry, Y/N, I thought, I just normally don’t-”

“You know, when I told Y/N to confess to you today, I didn’t think you’d react like that,” Tsukishima laughed from across the courtyard, grinning bigger than Yamaguchi had ever seen before.

“Y-You knew?”

“Y/N’s been annoying me all week about it,” Tsukishima rolled his eyes, “Something about wanting to know if feelings were reciprocated or something. As if you two haven’t been drooling over each other ever since meeting.” He shrugged like this was a normal thing, like seeing his two friends confess and kiss was just a typical Monday morning thing.

Yamaguchi’s chest was feeling so tight, like his heart had stopped working from shock. Was this a heart attack? Is this what all those people were always warning you about? Was he dying?

“Oi, Tadashi, you haven’t given her an answer yet,” Tsukishima scoffed, shaking his head. “Accept her confession, ask her out on a date, and then let’s get to class. People are going to start staring soon.”

Yamaguchi spluttered out a, “I really like you, Y/N!”, his cheeks burning with embarrassment and surprise, wishing he could rewind and go back. He took the teddy bear that was still in your hands, smiling a little at the cute bow around its neck and the smile on its face that was looking back at him.

You just giggled and rocked on your feet nervously, “Well I’d hope so. You don’t go around kissing girls you don’t like do you?”

“O-Of course not!” He shook his head, letting out a nervous laugh. “That cafe date sounds really nice.”

The two of you just stood there for a moment, shyly avoiding each other’s eyes until Tsukishima sighed while walking over, and pushed Yamaguchi over to you, “Alright, let’s go then.” He said, as if fed up with you both but Yamaguchi swore he saw a smile on the salty boy’s face.

“I really like you too,” you whisper to Yamaguchi later, taking his hand in yours and letting your fingers tangle together.

Later, Yamaguchi would tell you he honestly thought you were into Tsukishima and would laugh when your nose scrunched up, “Oh God no!” You smirked, shaking your head. “I was trying to make sure he liked me. I figured you wouldn’t go out with a girl that Tsukishima wouldn’t at least tolerate.”

Yamaguchi laughed and pressed a kiss to your cheek. He held your face in his hands again, just admiring your face and the way you smiled at him. This smile seemed to be reserved just for him and he wanted to look at it forever.

That was the day that Yamaguchi promised himself he would never let you go. You were his now, and he didn’t ever want to lose you.

Haikyuu Masterlist

Haikyuu Taglist: (Let me know if you’d like to be added!)

@scphiredrafts @aurumk @devilkittymusic @thisnoodlewritesao3 @satan-ruler-of-hells @trashy-simp @jeppiet @lucyheartfilias-wife @darkvadeeer @haikyuutothetop

429 notes · View notes

invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years

Text

Fight Club

Character: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: Everyone will say Jason Todd is protective of the people he loves. But sometimes independence is more important than protecting.

Word Count: 4,000 [One Shot]

Warnings: harassment, stalking, general daily discomfort that women have to deal with

Y/N was so fucking tired.

It was a miracle that she hadn’t fallen asleep on the bus home from work.

But anyone with half a brain knew that doing so in Gotham was basically asking to get robbed or worse.

Never fall asleep on public transit. Only buy purses and wallets that zip close. Never leave any personal belongings alone in public. Never use an ATM at night. Only take well-traveled and well-lit routes. Always be aware of your surroundings.

These were the unwritten rules of living in Gotham. It was how you stayed safe, how you stayed alive. But even when one followed them strictly, that didn’t insure that they would always be safe.

Which is why Y/N noticed a middle-aged man staring her down on the bus. He knew what he was doing. He knew that he was making her uncomfortable. He was clearly getting off on it.

Y/N just blasted the music in her headphones and pretended not to notice. But she could feel his leering and it made her stomach twist into knots.

She looked down at her watch: 6PM.

Y/N knew she could call Jason. She knew this.

It would take her all of 30 seconds to explain the situation, Jason would instantly understand and then be waiting at her bus stop for her, ready to escort her home safely and glare at whoever had made her uncomfortable.

But Jason was probably sleeping still.

Last night, he’d returned from patrol needing stitches and had so many bruises scattered across his face that Y/N kept messing up her counting. She was also suspicious that his right hand was broken, but Jason brushed if off so smoothly that she let it slide.

The point was that Y/N had managed to force pain meds on her boyfriend. Jason always slept until late afternoon after patrols anyways, basically becoming nocturnal since he often wouldn’t get back until 5AM.

The meds were meant to make him sleep all day and force him to recover.

The stubborn part of Y/N didn’t want to prevent Jason from getting his much needed recovery and rest.

Except this guy didn’t plan on just staring at her.

When he saw that she was getting off at the stop that was just announced, he too stood up from his seat and moved to the other exit that she wasn’t using.

Y/N was aware of all of this, making sure to track him subtly through the corner of her gaze. It was from the conditioning that all women unfortunately had to go through, whether they realized or not.

Without turning around, she caught his reflection in the window of a building she walked past. He kept a distance to remain unsuspicious, but it was obvious that he was following her.

Y/N tried to subtly walk faster. But she also realized she couldn’t go straight home now. Even with Red Hood being her live-in boyfriend, there was no way she was letting this creep know where she lived.

She started taking a strange route, making weird turns. But it was hard not to lose him without fully running, which she didn’t want to do until it felt absolutely necessary.

But then she came upon a coffeeshop that she knew had a front and back entrance.

She quickly went inside and pretended to get in line for coffee. But when she looked for the man in the corner of her eye, he wasn’t going to come in. Instead, he decided to linger outside and wait for her to come out.

Y/N subtly left the line and made for the back exit.

‘Now it’s time to run,’ she thought to herself.

Y/N was grateful that she had decided to wear stylish sneakers today instead of heels.

By the time she reached the steps of her apartment building, she was breathing heavily. She had been looking over her shoulder every few feet to make sure the creep didn’t get smart.

When she reached her door, she made sure to be quiet in case Jason was still sleeping. Then when she reached the bedroom and quietly opened the door, her mountain of a boyfriend was still passed out in bed with his face pressed into her pillow.

Y/N decided to get started on dinner and quietly moved about the kitchen.

But no matter how much she tried to concentrate on her cooking, her mind kept returning to the man who had tried to follow her home.

What would he have done if he found out where she lived?

Did he plan on grabbing her before she got there?

Did he just get off on making women scared?

Was he planning on raping her? Abducting her? Killing her?

The more Y/N thought about it, the more her fear shifted into rage. Why was it so much more unsafe for women to just merely exist in the world?

But she had no intention of telling Jason.

He would be furious. Not at her, at a man who thought it was OK to even make his girlfriend feel uncomfortable and unsafe – let alone any woman. He would go on a hunt for him and teach him a lesson.

Jason Todd was protective of the people he loved and the innocent – of which Y/N was both. But he also had a bad temper. And whoever was the reason for it starting up better run for their life because Red Hood was not a merciful man and his morals were unpredictable.

So, no. Y/N was not planning on telling her boyfriend, who was also secretly a vigilante with rage issues, about the man who ogled her on public transit and tried to follow her home.

But Y/N was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t hear said boyfriend finally wake up.

Next thing she knew, someone was slowly wrapping their arms around her waist.

Y/N jumped.

Obviously it was Jason. She knew that. This was not uncommon behavior for him.

But after the day she had and being lost in her thoughts, the feeling of someone’s touch scared the life out of her.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jason immediately muttered in a whisper at her reaction. “It’s just me.”

Y/N turned around in hopes of easing any worry before he asked any questions.

“Sorry,” she gasped. “I didn’t hear you wake up.”

But Jason narrowed his gaze at the crazed look in her eyes. He could somehow feel her heart racing as he gripped her torso, and traced lines up and down her rib cage with his thumbs in an attempt to soothe her.

“What happened?” He asked as he brushed some hair out of her face.

“Nothing. I’m fine. I was just in my head and zoning out, so you scared me.”

Jason was basically a human lie detector. So he raised an eyebrow at her attempt.

“Y/N,” he warned.

She sighed and shook her head. “Promise you’ll just listen? That you won’t freak out?”

Now Jason was even more worried. “Y/N, what happened?”

She sighed again, knowing it was pointless to ask him not to freak out when it came to her. Now all she could hope for is that she’d be able to calm him down.

Y/N explained what happened to Jason: the bus, the following, the running to make sure a threatening stranger didn’t follow her home.

She could see Jason’s body getting more and more tense, and his expression angrier and angrier. His hands clenched into fits. His posture straightened with purpose.

“Did he grab you? Did he touch you?” Jason asked as soon as he was sure she was done with her whole story.

“No, but…” her words died out.

“He didn’t have to for you to feel violate,” Jason offered her.

Y/N nodded and hung her head.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Jason asked softly.

“I…I don’t know. I wanted to you to rest.” Then Y/N really thought about it. “And despite his intentions being very clear…there was still a voice in my head telling me not to overreact, that there was a small chance I was being paranoid.”

“Y/N, even if you had been wrong, I would’ve rather you felt safe than worry about being wrong. I wouldn’t have been mad at you, or even annoyed.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Y/N.” Jason sighed and pulled her into his arms. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just love you and want you to be safe.”

She nodded into his shoulder.

———

For the next week, Jason was waiting for Y/N every day after work at her bus stop to walk her home. She didn’t ask him to or even suggest it. But Jason knew she was still shaken after the incident. And the last thing he wanted was his girlfriend living in fear.

On the eighth day of him doing this, Y/N finally spoke up.

“Jason, ya know, you can’t do this forever…”

“I know,” he smirked.

“Why are you smiling?”

“How would you feel about me teaching you some self defense?”

Y/N stopped walking and turned to face him. “Are you messing with me?”

“Nope.”

———

The next weekend, Y/N found herself in the bat cave with her boyfriend, both of them in workout clothes.

“First things first, you have to gain your strength. I can teach you all the moves I want, but you have to make sure your body is in the right condition to defend yourself. And I don’t mean just physically. Confidence is key, beautiful.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the last part, but still smiled.

“Did we have to have an audience?” She asked as she looked over to see that Tim was on the computer, and Dick and Barbara were working out together.

“Ignore them.”

The next couple of hours, Jason taught Y/N all of the basics of self defense. Especially the tips that benefitted women.

Eye strike. Knee to the groin. Heel-palm attack. Elbow hit. How to escape from a bear-hug attack. How to free herself from a choke hold. How to get out of a headlock.

Y/N was covered with sweat. Meanwhile, Jason looked as put together as he had when they started.

“OK,” she finally said with hands on her hips as she tried to catch her breath. “But if someone that’s the same size as me tried to attack me, I don’t have a chance.”

Jason tilted his head to the side. “And who said that?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “J, come on. Look at you! Do you really think I would be able to get away – no matter how hard I tried?”

She looked her boyfriend up and down. He was built like a tank, standing at 6’3 and with an almost inhuman width. Just his thighs seemed bigger than her torso.

While Y/N loved cuddly with her giant teddy bear of a boyfriend, she had mercy for anyone that decided to pick a fight with Jason Todd or Red Hood. They didn’t stand a chance.

“Size isn’t everything,” Jason told her with a wink.

She rolled her eyes again.

“Dick! Barbara! Can you come here for a sec?”

“What’s up?” Dick asked with Barbara by his side.

“Y/N thinks that she’d never be able to take on someone bigger than her,” Jason shared with them.

Barbara didn’t even bother trying to hide her laughter.

Dick smirked. “It’ll take a lot of training, Y/N. But don’t worry, I’ll teach you how to kick Jason’s ass. Until then, let us know if he’s giving you any trouble and we’ll handle him for you.”

Jason glared at his older brother, but chose not to give his usual sarcastic retorts. He turned his attention back to Y/N instead. “Dicky here is 5’10 and about 175. Meanwhile, Babs is 5’6 and can’t weigh more than 120.”

Barbara crossed her arms. “Didn’t you ever learn that it’s not polite to comment on a woman’s weight?”

Jason gave her an apologetic look but he knew she wasn’t actually offended. “The point is that I’ve seen Barbara hand Dick his ass more times than I can count. Not to mention guys twice her size.”

Then he looked at the couple and gestured to the sparring mat. “Would you be so kind?”

Dick didn’t seem to have any issue with facing off with his girlfriend.

Meanwhile, Barbara looked excited.

As the two of them began sparring, Jason lowered his voice down to Y/N and pointed out Barbara’s strategies and moves. Then he would explain how she was manipulating her smaller frame and turning it into an advantage.

Next thing Y/N knew, Barbara had Dick on the floor.

Dick was beaming up at his girlfriend with nothing but pride and awe.

“See?” Jason muttered quietly in Y/N’s ear.

Barbara laughed and held a hand to help Dick up. He jumped back onto his feet and gave his girlfriend a kiss.

“What’s going on?” A voice said at the bottom of the stairs.

They all turned to see Damian had entered the Bat Cave.

“Teaching Y/N some self defense,” Jason shrugged.

Damian sighed. “I do not understand why society does not train women to defend themselves – especially when they are not protected from evil men.”

Y/N laughed. “Not everyone was raised by a league of assassins, Damian.”

But then Damian’s words hit her again in a different way. She spaced out for a moment.

Jason looked at her with concern. “You OK?”

She just nodded.

He wasn’t convinced, but let her be. “I think that’s enough training for today.”

Jason’s brothers convinced him and Y/N to stay for a family movie night.

They used Jason’s old room to shower, since Y/N was covered in sweat by the end of her self defense lesson. Jason gave her some of his old clothes for her to wear that he’d left behind.

When they got to the theatre room, Jason could tell how exhausted Y/N was. She was going to be sore tomorrow – probably for a few days, actually.

She curled into Jason as they grabbed one of the love seats. In moments like these, Jason was always amused how she seemed more like his pet cat than his girlfriend.

Dick and Barbara cuddled together, as well.

Damian brought a book, pretended to already be bored, and acted like he was forced to join family movie night.

Tim brought in his laptop so he could continue to work.

Alfred brought them snacks every so often.

Even Bruce came in halfway through the movie, making his entrance so subtle that they almost didn’t notice.

But lo and behold, not even 15 minutes into the movie, Y/N had passed out.

Jason ended up having to carry her to his car after the movie – not that he minded in the slightest – and drive home as smoothly as possible, so he didn’t wake her.

———

A few days later, Y/N found Jason reading while lounging on the couch in the living room of their shared apartment.

She hopped on beside him, laying across his chest and sliding underneath his book.

Jason chuckled at her antics and put his book down, realizing she wanted his full attention and not just to snuggle while he continued to read.

“So, I was thinking…” Y/N began.

“Mhmm,” Jason hummed.

“I’m not the only woman in Gotham who’s been harassed. You of all people know that – probably better than I do.”

Jason’s amusement disappeared as he listened to where she was going.

“Did you know that in most big cities, there are almost always more women than men?”

“I did not.”

Then she sat up straight, but remained close to him. “But Gotham is the only major American city where there are 20% more men than women.” She waited for him to interrupt, but he just continued to pay close attention. “Researchers believe it’s because of the high crime rate in Gotham, and therefore it’s even more unsafe for women to live here than men.”

“Makes sense,” Jason agreed. “Why are you telling me this?”

“When you started giving me self-defense lessons and then Damian made the comment about no one training women, I kept thinking how other women don’t have a family of vigilantes to keep them safe or teach them how to defend themselves.”

“I’ve seen enough of this city to know that you’re right,” Jason commented darkly.

“Exactly.”

“You still haven’t explained why we’re talking about this…”

“Right,” Y/N smiled embarrassingly. “What if we – I don’t know – started a center for women to learn what you taught me. Completely pro bono. Like a…”

“Fight Club?” Jason offered with a smirk.

“Well, not exactly. But kinda,” Y/N giggled.

Then she frowned as her mind was still working all of it out. “I just don’t know who could teach it. You and your family are already too busy. Teaching women how to defend themselves is a little beneath you…”

“First of all, it’s not beneath us. But you’re right: Dick barely has a second to spend with Babs. Tim is so sleep deprived that he’s just gonna collapse one day. It also wouldn’t be smart for our cover and show that all the Wayne kids can hold themselves in a fight. People might start putting things together...”

“Right,” Y/N agreed and looked further disappointed.

“Hey,” Jason said with an encouraging smile and lifted her chin to look at him. “It’s a good idea. And between my brothers and me, we know plenty of retired heroes that would be more than willing to help out.”

Y/N’s eyes brightened. “Really?”

He nodded. “Dinah, Roy, Wally and Artemis. Hell, I bet if Bruce mentioned it to Diana, she’d smuggle in some Amazons to really show ‘em.”

Y/N smiled at the idea.

“You should tell Bruce,” Jason added.

“Bruce?”

“He has a habit of blindly writing checks for a good cause. I bet he’d just straight up buy you a warehouse to hold classes in.”

She frowned. “I don’t – won’t he feel like I’m taking advantage of him?”

Jason laughed. “I know he’s shit at showing it, but Bruce likes you. And I think he’d be more than happy to help.”

Y/N’s eyes glazed over. “Bruce Wayne likes me?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t let it get to your head…”

“So, you think this is a good idea?”

Jason couldn’t help himself when she looked this adorable and excited. He grabbed her torso and flipped them so her back was on the couch and he was now hovering above her.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he told her softly before kissing her.

But before Y/N could push the intimacy any further, Jason pulled away from her lips.

“I have to tell you something,” his voice suddenly went serious.

Y/N’s smile dropped. “What? What is it?”

“I know you didn’t want me to…”

Then she sat up, lightly pushing Jason off of her. “Christ, Jason. What did you do?”

He took in a quick breath. “I found him.”

“Found who?”

“The guy who followed you.”

“Fuck,” Y/N put her hands over her face. “Jason. God. What the fuck.” “I know! I know. I should’ve told you sooner.”

Y/N rubbed her face and looked at him. “Please, please tell you didn’t kill him.”

Jason had the audacity to roll his eyes. “I didn’t kill him, OK? Happy?”

“No, I’m not happy! You went after him when I explicitly asked you not to!”

“Did you forget that the guy you’re dating is also a vigilante? In what world did you expect me to not look him up?” He shook his head in wonder. “I mean, the idiot’s face was all over the public transit database I hacked when I looked up the footage from the cameras on your bus – not to mention the footage from half the storefronts you walked by.”

Y/N only glared at him.

“Don’t be mad,” he requested.

“Well, I am.”

Jason sighed. Then he scooted closer, hoping she’d allow it. “Look, I get what’s going on. And I get why you want to help all these women.”

She eyed him, but let him continue.

“I’m sure it’s hard to believe, but I know what it’s like to feel like you can’t protect yourself.” He cleared his throat, catching himself. “I know it’s not the same as what women have to deal with on a daily basis. I’ll never really know what that’s like.”

Jason kept all the terrible things he’d seen on patrol to himself. But there were things he knew would terrify and traumatize her. Because of this, Jason wasn’t as oblivious to the suffering of women as the majority of men were. Or maybe he just chose to actually acknowledge it and care.

He took in a deep breath. “But I just hated the idea of someone doing that to you. And I know there’s probably a million times its happened and you haven’t told me, or you didn’t even notice because you’ve gotten so used to it. I just…I couldn’t let him get away with it.”

Jason paused to let her process his excuse. He’d be the first to admit it wasn’t a good one.

But Jason Todd was fiercely protective of the people he loved. And Red Hood’s sole purpose was to protect the those who couldn’t protect themselves – no matter the cost.

So when his girlfriend was troubled enough to lose sleep or zoned out constantly to rehash what happened, he was going to do something about it.

Jason was fully aware of his anger issues. But he also learned how to redirect them to be something a bit more productive.

“So…what did you do to him?” Y/N asked nervously.

He gave her a look, silently asking her if she really wanted to know.

“Jason…” she warned him.

“He had a record, OK? Let’s just say you weren’t the first woman he’s done that to. And a lot of them weren’t as lucky as you. So he got what he fucking deserved.”

“And what is that?” She pushed, refusing to let him gloss over it so easily.

Jason rolled his eyes. “I roughed him up a bit, alright? Told him I’d be watching. Scared the shit out of him enough that, hopefully, he won’t ever pull that shit again.”

Y/N let out a laugh and shook her head at him.

Jason would take her amusement over her anger any day, even if she was teasing him.

“What?” He asked through a grin.

She bopped his nose. “So protective over me.”

Jason had enough of the distance between them.

He moved her body so she had no choice but to sit on his lap. “‘Course I am.”

Then he kissed her. But when he pulled away, his face was rather thoughtful.

“You’re not going to feel helpless forever, ya know.”

They were words to comfort her. Because deep down Jason knew that promising to always be there for her wasn’t going to make her feel better. She wanted him as her boyfriend, not her bodyguard – despite Jason being more than happy to be both for her.

“I know,” Y/N confirmed with a shy smile.

-------------------------------------

Whatcha think?

#jason todd x reader #jason todd reader insert #batfam #batboys #batman family #dick grayson #barbara gordon #damian wayne #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood reader insert #jason todd fic #dc #tim drake #red hood fic

830 notes · View notes

heavenlyhaechan · 3 years

Text

A Thin Line (Between Love and Hate)

Pairing: Sunwoo x Gn!Reader

Genre: enemies to lovers au, high school au, fluff

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: cursing, mentions of blood (nosebleed), kissing, childish behavior, cliche after cliche after cliche af-

Note: Happy birthday Sunwoo, I think we all know that I love you the most. I wrote this quite a while ago, so if it doesn’t match my current writing style, that’s why.

The shrill sound of the school bell pierced your ears, and you watched as students began to move up and down the stairs around you like you were a stone in a rushing river. Five minutes until class started, and none of the underclassmen wanted to be late. You stood up, bidding your friends farewell as you did so. Pulling your bag over your shoulder, you started up the stairs towards your first class.

As you walked into your chemistry classroom, you heard your teacher reminding you of today’s quiz in a monotone voice. You nodded absentmindedly in his direction, more concerned with the person currently sitting in your seat. He sat with his back to you, bent over laughing at something his friend had said from the back of the room.

Your friends looked up at you as you reached your table, their eyes full of apprehension. Dropping your stuff to the ground, you cuffed the intruder on the back of his head, prompting him to look back at you, startled.

“This is my seat,” you said, although you knew he didn’t need the reminder.

“Is it?” Sunwoo recovered quickly, his eyes steely. You had seen people tremble under that gaze, but you knew him better than that. You hadn’t spent a lifetime knowing him just to get scared off by one look.

“Yes. Now move.”

“Somebody’s cranky this morning,” he sneered.

“Somebody needs to shut up,” you snapped back. “Don’t you have a class to get to?”

“Mm,” he made a sound of agreement as he stood up and stretched his arms over his head lazily. “See you later,” he said as he walked past you to the door, his shoulder bumping yours violently enough that you knew it hadn’t been an accident.

“I hope not,” you said to his back as you sat down, but he ignored you.

You were surprised. Usually, Sunwoo just had to have the last word, no matter what lengths he had to go to get it. You shrugged it off, making up an excuse for his behavior in your head as you turned to greet your friends and prepare for the quiz.

—

You strolled along the running track on your way to the bus stop, taking your time as you were well aware that the bus wasn’t coming for at least another five minutes. Your headphones successfully drowned out the sounds of the world around you, including the soccer practice happening to your left. In fact, they were so successful that you didn’t hear the shouts of warning until it was too late. By the time you saw the soccer ball hurtling directly towards your face all you could do was close your eyes. The next thing you knew, your face was stinging, and your nose felt like it was on fire.

A familiar face came running towards you, followed by most of your school’s soccer team. “Are you okay?” Sunwoo called out as he reached you, his voice much too loud for your liking.

“I’m fine,” you answered as a crowd of sweaty teenage boys surrounded you like you were Cristiano Ronaldo.

“You’re bleeding.”

You reached up to touch your nose, and soon felt a warm trickle of blood that confirmed his words.

“Shit,” you muttered, bending forward to hold your nose.

“Give them some room boys!” you heard someone shout, and the crowd began to thin, leaving only you, Sunwoo, and the soccer coach standing on the track.

“Take them to the nurse Kim,” the coach said gruffly, gesturing towards the school building. “And be quick about it.”

“Yes sir,” Sunwoo nodded once before grabbing your free arm and towing you forward. You followed him, too focused on keeping any blood from getting on your clothes to pay attention to where you were going.

“Do you think it’s broken?” he asked as he looked at you, his hatred of blood making him cringe.

“I don’t know.”

“You should have been paying attention,” he griped as he led you down the hallway.

“Do I have you to blame for this?” you deflected expertly.

“No, you have yourself to blame for not paying attention.”

He seemed to be growing more agitated by the second. Luckily for you, agitating Sunwoo was your specialty.

“You know if it is broken, I could probably sue you.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wanna bet?”

The two of you came to a stop outside of the nurse’s office, staring each other down. Finally, Sunwoo rolled his eyes and reached for the door handle.

“I’m not arguing with an invalid,” he said as he held the door open for you.

“And people say chivalry is dead,” you said dryly as you made your way inside the room, Sunwoo close behind you. Before he could respond you had been swept up by the nurse, leaving him to wait on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs lined up against the wall.

Ten minutes later, you watched as the nurse called your parents to pick you up, even after you had insisted that you were fine to take the bus. Since you’d arrived Sunwoo had stood up and begun to pace back and forth over the old worn carpet. You made your way over to him, wondering why he hadn’t left yet. He turned to face you as you reached him, one of his hands reaching up to fix his hair.

He had pulled a mask up over his nose at some point, and his curls fell over his eyebrows so that the only thing you could see was his eyes. They looked at you, sparkling like there was a whole galaxy trapped inside of them. Your rational mind knew that it was only the fluorescent light’s reflection, but a part of you was sure that you could find the secrets of the universe in those eyes if only you looked long enough.

The sound of your name drew you from your trance and you started, blinking rapidly. Shit. What were you thinking? This was Kim Sunwoo you were looking at. The same boy who had spent a lifetime tormenting you, and you, him.

“Sorry,” you said as you scrambled to find an excuse for your zoning out. “Maybe I have a concussion,” you resolved, cringing internally as you said it. Sunwoo’s eyebrows twitched, and a look of concern flashed across his face just long enough for you to catch it.

“I doubt it; I hit you in the face, not the head. And even if you do, it’s probably not very bad.”

“I hope it is bad, that way I can blame you for it,” you retorted.

He scoffed, and you watched as his eyes hardened, returning to the usual cold glare that he reserved especially for you. “Whatever,” he muttered, finally turning to leave the nurse’s office.

You cursed at yourself as you watched the door close behind him. This was the first time in years that the two of you had managed to have a civil conversation, maybe even a friendly one, and you had ruined it. You hadn’t even thought about it, the words had just spilled out of you. The saying “old habits die hard” was proving to be true.

But then you remembered a more pressing problem: his eyes.

—

That night, your thoughts stole any chance you had of sleeping. While this was not an uncommon occurrence, tonight it felt different. No matter where your mind took you, it always ended up at Sunwoo.

One train of thought went camping, your cousins, soccer, Sunwoo. Another went from the outfit you were going to wear tomorrow, to the quiz you’d had in chemistry today, to Sunwoo. For what felt like hours your thoughts followed this pattern, until finally, you fell into a restless sleep, dreams full of the same boy who had been haunting your thoughts since that afternoon and throughout your whole life.

—

“What’s on your mind?” your mom asked on your way to school the next morning. She had insisted that you wouldn’t take the bus that day, even though the nurse had deemed you uninjured.

“Why?” you questioned.

“You just seem kind of out of it.”

“I guess I didn’t sleep very well.”

“Why not?”

You were tempted to blame it on yesterday’s accident, but you knew that this would just make her worry more, which wouldn’t be beneficial to either of you. You speculated some other excuses for a few seconds, before deciding on the truth.

“You remember Kim Sunwoo right?”

“How could I forget,” she responded wryly. You laughed a little as contemplated what exactly you wanted to say.

“I always thought you had a crush on him you know,” she said, interrupting your thoughts. You stared at her incredulously. Now it was her turn to laugh.

“You used to come home from school when you were younger and talk about nothing else but him,” she explained.

“Yeah, cause he was, and is, so annoying,” you said defensively.

“Sure,” she conceded. “But I also think that you’ve chosen to blow up all of his more annoying traits in favor of ignoring his more admirable ones.”

—

Your mom’s words played on repeat in your mind all day long, like the lyrics of a song that had gotten stuck in your head. As you made your way through your day, you tried your best to forget that anything had happened and just go back to the way things had been before yesterday afternoon. This method proved unsuccessful, however.

By the time the school’s bell rang to signal the end of the day, you were really, truly fed up with just the thought of Sunwoo. What right did he have to inhabit your thoughts like this? You had more important things to focus on, things that actually mattered, like your history final, or deciding what you were going to buy your friend for their birthday.

You slammed your locker shut as you rode this new wave of anger, only to see the boy you had just been cursing out in your mind walking towards you. Unfortunately, he had already seen you, and you watched as he detached himself from his group of friends and made his way in your direction.

“What do you want?” you snarled as he reached you, turning for the stairs before he had a chance to respond.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he said, more tentatively than you had ever heard him be.

“Why do you care?”

“Oh c'mon, I’m not a complete monster, and it was my fault.”

“So you admit it,” you turned to face him. He had followed you up the stairs, and now you looked down at him with a fierce look in your eyes.

“Admit what? That I’m a monster, or that it was my fault?”

“Both.”

He sighed resignedly, walking up the stairs until you were face to face. “Yes, I admit it. But if we’re being honest, you’re not the nicest either.”

“Well, you-” you stopped. He was right, wasn’t he? He may have been the one to start this stupid struggle, but nowadays you tended to provoke him more than he did you. And besides, you had been six years old when all of this had started. Were you really holding a grudge against Sunwoo’s six-year-old self?

“Okay, yeah. I’ve been pretty horrible to you too, but well, you started it!”

He laughed, his eyes scrunching up and his lips parting to reveal that crooked tooth that you had always despised. But maybe you had mistaken love for hate.

“Why did you, you know, start it,” you asked quietly, so quietly that for a moment you weren’t sure he’d heard you. But then his smile disappeared, and you realized that you kind of missed it.

“I guess I didn’t know how else to…” he trailed off, his eyes roaming the stairway as if the answer to your question lay there.

“Didn’t know how else to what?”

“How else to…uh, show you…that…I liked you.”

He blurted out the last three words like they were forbidden. They hung in the air like smoke, slipping into your lungs and making breathing difficult.

“Since when do you like me?” you croaked out.

“Since forever.”

“Really?” you laughed a little as you said it, your mind reeling.

“Well, since first grade at least.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I, um,” he paused, his eyes avoiding yours.

“What,” you said. It was a statement, not a question, but it still prompted him to continue.

“I was scared, I guess,” he finished, his eyes full to the brim with vulnerability. It poured from him, in the way his breathing had quickened, and the way his fingers played with his hoodie strings erratically. This was a new color on him, one you never thought you’d have the opportunity to see.

“Of what?” you queried, intrigued by this, what was it, nervousness? It was so foreign on him that you had trouble putting a finger on it.

“That you’d laugh at me mostly,” he coughed in embarrassment.

“I probably would have.”

He opened his mouth to snap at you, but you stopped him with a hand on his arm. He stared down at your fingers like they were alien, continuing to look at them dazedly even as you spoke. “But I’m not now, so,” you gestured for him to continue.

“I always thought that hating me was close enough to liking me,” he started again. “So I’d, you know, metaphorically pull your braids or whatever. I thought that at least that way you’d pay attention to me.” You could feel the phantom pain as he said it, the weight heavy on your scalp. “And then it became so natural that I didn’t know how to make it right, to apologize.”

“So basically, you’re a horrible flirt.”

He let another laugh escape him, pushing your shoulder a little as he finally met your eyes. “Like you’re any better.”

“I’m a lot better than you, Kim Sunwoo.”

“Oh yeah? We’ll see about that.”

You stared each other down the same way you had your entire lives, but this time you realized how ridiculous all of this really was. Hating each other, not because you didn't like one another, but because you both thought the feeling was mutual. And yet here you were. The line between love and hate is very thin, after all.

Before you could think any further, you did the simplest and most terrifying thing you could imagine. You leaned forward and kissed him. It was rushed and a little messy, with teeth banging and noses bumping, but it fit Sunwoo perfectly.

When you pulled away, the first thing you noticed was how red his ears were. You giggled at the sight, prompting him to look at you questioningly. You reached out to touch them, causing the blush to spread down to his cheeks as well. He looked down abashedly, but you assured him that it was cute.

“Embarrassing you mean,” he mumbled.

“That too,” you laughed again.

He sobered, staring at you with the same look that used to infuriate you to no end. But now, instead of seeing only the stone-cold glare he used to intimidate those around him, you also saw the blush that lingered on his cheeks and the stars in his eyes. Now you could see the potential smile in the curve of his cheeks and the potential pout his lips were waiting to produce.

“Cute,” you murmured again, and his lips twitched exasperatedly.

“Whatever.”

286 notes · View notes

tomtenadia · 3 years

Text

My Thursday crush

Rowaelin month - Day 4 - Library or librarians

It was a nice spring day in Orynth and Rowan was slowly walking to work. Headphones on and a book in his hands. He had developed the skill of reading and walking to the point of perfection.

His friends made fun of him but he always replied that if it was socially acceptable for people to walk with their faces in their phones and not paying attention, then a book was surely better. And he never bumped into anyone.

He stopped at the coffee shop around the corner from his job and got his usual order, placed the thermos in the backpack and walked the last stretch.

The library was still closed and it was his job to open it. He had volunteered for the morning shifts since he was a morning person and was happy to open up.

Once he was inside he went through the motions of opening up for day and getting the library ready. Rowan switched on the public computers and then did a walkthrough to make sure everything was looking good. He found a few books abandoned in places where they did not belong and groaned. He loved his job, he loved books.

He had a degree in library studies and once graduated he applied and got a job at Orynth main public library. The place was huge and he had grown up visit the building a lot. He had started using it thanks to his mum who had passed her love for books to him. That love never left him and growing up he realised he wanted a job where he could spend his day with books. But people? People annoyed him. The way they would just abandon books after using them, or the way they sometimes they would not respect the peace of a library. He was not a people person.

He grunted again and placed the books back where they belonged. Then he growled savagely when he noticed one abandoned on a chair, upside down, spine broken and a dog ear on one page as bookmark. Some people deserved to have their library card cut to pieces.

At 9am on the dot he opened up and welcomed his morning regulars “Good morning mrs MacLeod.”

“Oh, good morning, Rowan darling. Is my book here?”

He smiled at the woman and went to the shelf where they kept the returns that had been booked by someone else and grabbed her book.

“Yes,” he passed it to her “it was returned yesterday and we set it aside for you.”

The woman gave him a huge smile and he finished the loan procedure “I hope you will like it. It’s a nice story.”

“I am sure I will, darling. You always recommend me good books.”

He helped her to the door and went back to work, preparing the loan requests they had got online. A wide smile spread on his face at the name he saw on the list. He was not a fan of people but there was one person whose presence he had started to enjoy deeply. She was another regular and a bookworm like him. She had told him that she had to get some of her books from the library to avoid going broke on payday. He had laughed at the joke because it was the same for him.

She was a teacher and on Thursdays she was off and would always visit the library to return a book and get a new one. They would talk about what they were reading and he discovered they had the same tastes and he had been reading a lot of her recommendations. She was just obsessed with books as he was. Rowan had started to admit to himself that he was crushing on her. She had stolen his heart when one day she came to the desk and complained, outraged, that the book she wanted to borrow had a coffee stain on a page. They had raged for ten minutes together at the animals and his heart skipped a beat. It did help as well that the woman was stunning. Her hair was a deep gorgeous blonde and she had the most incredible blue eyes with an unusual ring of gold. Yes, he was definitely a fool in love and Thursdays were his favourite day of the week. Since she started visiting he had never had another Thursday off.

***

Aelin had a bad morning already. She had gone to the gym and found it closed for some obscure reason. Then an idiot on his phone bumped into her and made her spill her coffee. She had shouted a large list of expletives at the savage and left. It was Thursday and she could not let anything ruin her favourite day of the week. She was on her way to the library to collect the book she had reserved. But if she was to be honest to herself, she was looking forward to see Rowan. The librarian had become one of his favourite people, although they only meet once a week, her time spent with him talking about books was always precious.

It did help that the man was hot. As in so unbelievably handsome that he was so out of her league. In the months they had interacted she had developed a crush on him and not just for his unique features. He had short silver hair and the deepest pine green eyes and the days he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows she had spotted a wonderful tattoo in the old language. He had an incredible nice build and tanned skin. He was hotness incarnated. A heart attack on two legs.

Knowing her luck with men, he was happily married, although on a closer inspection she had not spotted a wedding ring. Well, probably a super hot fiancee. She definitely stood no chance with him.

But she had liked him as well because he was smart and loved books just as fiercely she did. He was always ready to suggest some new titles and all his recommendations had been spot on. She had enjoyed every single book. A part of her wished she’d have the courage to ask him out and talk about books perhaps in front of a coffee. Aelin was actually curious to discover what else he liked.

Twenty minutes later she finally reached the public library. She loved that building and her parents had nudged her towards becoming a bookworm. They would read to her and once she was able to read alone, they would gladly buy all the books she wanted. Her childhood home also had a proper library and she would spend hours in there travelling with her imagination.

She stared at the building and finally walked in. She climbed the marble stairs and reached the adult lending library section. On the lower floor they had an area all dedicated to kids.

She opened the glass doors and her eyes went straight to the desk scanning the area for a head of silver hair. Sadness hit her when she did not see him around. It really was going to be the day from hell. She walked to the fiction section and as she turned the corner around a stack of shelves she crashed into someone. What was with her and crashing into people today?

She was about to apologise when she looked up and noticed who she had bumped into. It was Rowan. Gods, even his name was perfect. That day he was wearing a blue shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, jeans and a pair of rimless glasses. She had so many improper thoughts.

“Aelin, sorry I didn’t see you…” his voice thick with his accent from Wendlyn.

“Hi,” she managed, trying to bring her feelings under control “I thought you were off. I came in and you were not around.” Oh she sounded like a lovestruck teenager.

“I was placing some books back on the shelves.” He indicated the pile in his arms.

Aelin spotted one of the titles “that is a great story. I read it about five times already.” Pointing to a specific title.

Rowan had a look at the book and read the blurb “I’ll set it aside.”

“You look good with glasses.” She blurted out and then blushed. She was flirting like a moron.

He gave her a smile that reached his eyes and her heart skipped a beat. Gods, the things she’d do to him…

“I have the book you reserved, by the way,” and he started walking back to the counter and she followed.

Aelin gave him her card and he processed the loan for her “you know the drill, right?”

“I am going home and spill coffee all over it.” Had it been someone else she knew he would have been horrified but that had become their inside joke. He knew she would never do anything of the sort.

***

Rowan processed her loan and took that moment to think about a good way to ask her out for coffee although he was afraid he was going to get a crushing rejection. She was probably taken already. A woman like her was definitely not single. Plus, she was definitely out of his league. He was about to ask her but froze and decided to leave it.

“I’ll just go and have a look around.” She told him, and he knew she was trying to put some distance between them. How could he even hope she would fall for him? He was the most boring man on earth. That was what Lyria had said when she dumped him. He sighed heavily and went back to his job but his gaze followed Aelin through the bookshelves. In his head he had different conversations he wanted to try. He usually was quite good and in the past he had picked up his share of women in pubs. But with Aelin it was different. He did not want to pass as a pig. All he wanted to tell her was that he found her attractive and fascinating and take her out for a coffee. Then he had an idea.

He walked to a shelf and picked a book that he knew she’d love. He was planning on recommending it to her another time but that was now his tool for his plan.

He scribbled down a note on a post it and placed it in the book, then walked to her “I was meaning to recommend you this one. Loads of angst but it’s a great story, and the female main character is just as badass as you like it. I already checked it out for you.”

The smile she gave him left him breathless “Thank you, Rowan. That’s why you are my favourite librarian.”

Eventually she had to leave and he wished it was Thursday already.

***

It was later in the afternoon when she got home after all her errands. She took her two books from her messenger bag and flipped through the one Rowan had given her until she spotted something bright green through the pages. She reached the post it note and read it.

I think you are perfect and a very fascinating woman. I will eagerly wait for next Thursday. Hopefully you will let me take you out for a coffee. Rowan.

She squealed in delight and texted Lysandra straight away to tell her about the message Rowan had left her. Rowan, the hottest librarian in the whole of Orynth wanted to go out for coffee with her. She could not believe it was happening, and she had to wait until next Thursday. She was off on Saturday but she had no idea if Rowan worked. She could try, she was so impatient to see him again that waiting was not an option.

***

Rowan got home later that night, got changed and crashed on the sofa and noticed the book abandoned there. It was one of the many Aelin had recommended to him. It was a great story, she definitely had great taste. He grabbed the book and thought about Aelin and the message he had left her. He had been so stupid. It was not high school, they were both adults and leaving messages like a lovestruck teenager was beyond pathetic. He should have talked to her like human beings did. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back against the sofa. He had probably blown every chance with her. Who would ever go out with a guy who couldn’t even ask a girl out?

The following Thursday

Rowan had opened the library as usual but on that day a sense of unease was making him nervous. He still could not think about the stupid move about putting a message in a book for Aelin. He was positive she was going to ignore him the next time, or stop visiting altogether.

The morning had been busy with new applicants, his usual customers and an avalanche of requests to set books aside. Panic caught him when he saw one from Aelin. Which meant she was coming in and he was not ready. What could he say to her? Sorry I am bad at talking to people so I write secret messages like a teenager? He was embarrassed and he was not ready when he spotted her golden mane of hair appear at the main entrance. He tried to hide but she had spotted him and was now walking towards him with a huge grin. His heart started racing. Was just an impression or she was more gorgeous than usual?

Rowan saw her come to the desk and diligently wait for her turn while he finished serving the three people in front of her.

“Hi stranger,” she said to him once it was her turn.

Rowan felt a savage blush rise on his face “Hi you. I assume you are here for your book.”

Aelin nodded and passed him her library card “and for a coffee date.”

Rowan froze halfway to the computer. He cleared his voice “so you saw my message.”

“And I loved the idea. It reminded me of one of the books I read recently where one of the guard is in love with the princess, they are both bookworms and leave each other messages in books because they need to keep their relationship a secret.”

Rowan smiled “You got me. I took the idea from that book.”

The smile she gave him had the power to almost knock the breath out of his lungs.

“I don’t have school on Saturday. Fancy going out for a coffee?”

Rowan nodded “do you know the coffee shop around the corner from here?”

Aelin nodded in assent “I love that place.”

“I am off this Saturday, so if you want we can go then. It would be lovely to know more about my favourite customer.”

She took a step closer to him, only the counter separating them “favourite customer, eh?”

“Well, the one who gets outraged at people mistreating books. The one who understands my pain.”

Aelin cackled and her hand brushed his when she grabbed the card he was returning to her.

“I have only one condition.” He added softly.

“Hm?”

“You let me pay. You can scoff as many pastries as you want. It’s my treat.”

She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek “it’s a date.”

When she pulled back she noticed his beautiful green eyes set on her. Maybe she had been too forward?

He grabbed a piece of paper and scribbled something down “my number.”

Aelin grabbed the piece of paper happily and winked at him “Now I have to go. I have loads to do.”

Rowan was sad at the idea “Of course. I will see you Saturday, then?”

“Saturday.” Her heart raced and then walked out of the library thinking that she could not wait two more days before seeing him again.

Rowan followed her with his gaze, happy that she had appreciated and understood the message idea. His hand touched the spot on the cheek that she had kissed and he was positive he was grinning like a lunatic.

They had a coffee date. He could not believe his luck.

But most of all he could not wait for Saturday.

He went to the stacks, looked for a specific book and checked it out under his name, then scribbled a message on a post it and placed it in the book and set it aside.

Ready for Aelin.

She was his Thursday crush.

#rowan whitethorn #rowaelinmonth #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfic #rowaelin fanfiction #day 4 #fluff #aelin galathynius

79 notes · View notes

lostinthewiind · 3 years

Text

𝘋𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳

Tsukishima Kei - Haikyuu

Synopsis: before you met Tsukki, Yamaguchi was the go-to person for girls who wanted to confess their love for the tall, blonde middle blocker. Now that the two of you are friends, however, you collect love confessions for him on the daily. And why shouldn’t you? You and Tsukki are just friends; you say so yourself all the time.

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

“You’re sure you don’t mind?”

You shook your head as you took the letter and box of chocolates from the small, trembling girl before you. “No, not at all.” You forced a sweet smile. “I’ll be sure to tell him.”

The girl grinned wide, her face lighting up. “O-okay, thank you! I don’t think I could ever tell him in person about how I feel.”

“He’s really not as scary as everyone likes to think he is,” you said as you tucked the gifts of affection into your bag, pretending to pay careful attention but in reality, not exactly caring whether the card got crumpled or if the candies melted.

The girl’s cheeks flushed a bright shade of red and she chuckled. “Really? Maybe I’ll try talking to him at lunch then!”

“You should.” You feigned interest, not quite sure why you were encouraging this girl to personally confess her undying love for the boy that you yourself held deep feelings for. Maybe it was because you felt that if you played the part as the supportive best friend, you would eventually just fall into that roll and forget all about how his smirk gave you butterflies or how your heart skipped a beat whenever he offered to share his music with you.

“Okay, I will!” A wave of confidence flooded over the girl’s features. “Well, class is about to start, so I better get going. Thanks again!”

“No problem.” Your assurance fell on deaf ears as the girl turned and headed to class with her friends, the lot of them giggling and whispering as they went.

As soon as the gaggle of girls had turned the corner and disappeared from sight, you exhaled and turned on your heel to head toward your own classroom. Managing to make it just before the first bell rang, your mood lifted as soon as you spotted your friend sitting in his assigned seat beside yours, eyes closed and headphones positioned over his ears, almost as if they were a permanent fixture of his head.

Fishing the offerings out of your bag, you dropped them down onto his desk rather harshly to get his attention as you slid into your own seat. Hearing the items drop onto his desk and feeling the vibrations through his arms, which had been folded across the tabletop, Tsukki eyed the card and chocolates and sighed.

“Again?” He pulled his headphones away from his ears and hung them around his neck, the music still blaring enough that you could faintly hear the bass.

“Again.” You confirmed with a slow nod.

Yamaguchi, who sat on the other side of Tsukki, stared at the gifts with wide eyes. “Wow, Tsukki, you really are popular!”

“I really wish I wasn’t.” He picked up the small box of sweets and tossed them onto Yamaguchi’s desk. “Do you want them?”

Yamaguchi, who was used to laying claim to the rejected love offerings, nodded happily and accepted them. Sometimes he gave them to you as well, and as much as you appreciated the thought, eating the physical representation of unrequited love wasn’t something you particularly enjoyed, so you usually ended up just throwing them out when you got home.

“I wish you would just stop being so mean to everyone who isn’t Tadashi and I, that way people would actually confess their love for you to you and the two of us would be left out of it,” you grumbled. “It’s getting annoying.”

“How do you think I feel?” Tsukki lazily ripped open the card and scanned its contents quickly with his eyes, scoffing at the girly handwriting and hand-drawn hearts. “Pathetic.”

Without a second thought, he handed the card over to you so that you could read it as well. You chuckled to yourself as you took in the words of affection that resembled a Victorian-era love poem. You felt a little guilty about snooping on the private emotions of a girl who, as far as you could tell, seemed perfectly nice; however, you couldn’t deny the joy you experienced when Tsukki shared yet another sappy love note with you, inviting you to participate in the flat-out rejection and tug on your heartstrings just a little bit more.

As long as he didn’t love anyone else, there was still hope for you.

“‘The way your eyes sparkle in the sunlight makes my heart sing.’“ You read a particularly descriptive part aloud before handing the card over to Yamaguchi. “If only these poor girls knew that their most vulnerable feelings get scrutinized by a panel of three cynics like us.”

Yamaguchi chuckled heartily as he took his turn reading the card. Before another word could be said on the matter, however, the second bell rang and the teacher strolled into the room, bringing a halt to any and all side conversations.

By the time lunch had rolled around, you had almost completely forgotten about that morning’s events. Your stomach grumbling and your only thought being getting something to eat, you stood up to grab something from the vending machine but stopped in your tracks when you saw the girl from earlier standing by the door, her face even redder than it had been that morning and her eyes drifting from you to Tsukki, who had yet to notice her.

Suddenly, you remembered that you had encouraged the poor girl to talk to Tsukki herself, which even you knew was a horrendous idea. Sure, you had told girls that in the past, but never once had one actually followed through. Usually, you received a love confession, you gave it to Tsukki, you laughed about it together, and the girl would take her broken heart and retreat with her tail between her legs when Tsukki never so much as acknowledged her existence.

This was uncharted territory and you had no idea what to do.

Turning to Tsukki, you pulled his headphones off—which he absolutely hated, but that was besides the point—and looked him dead in the eyes to set him straight before he could snap at you. “You see that girl by the door?” you asked him, and after glancing past you, he nodded. “She’s the one who gave me the card and chocolates to give to you this morning. She’s going to come in here and talk to you and I need you to not smash her heart into a million pieces. Okay?”

Tsukki opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the girl had worked up enough courage to make her way into the classroom and was now standing beside the two of you.

Smiling sheepishly, you backed away to give the two as much privacy as possible and pretended to be busy by digging through your bag for something.

“Tsukishima-san, did you get my card and chocolates?” the girl asked, her fingers intertwined together and her feet shifting weight nervously as she spoke.

Tsukki simply nodded. With that, Yamaguchi returned from using the bathroom and you stood next to him near the door, the two of you watching from afar as the unknown girl confessed to Tsukki in the partially-full classroom.

“What do you think he will say?” you inquired out loud.

Yamaguchi shrugged, never taking his eyes off of the interaction before him. “No. He’s never interested in any of the girls that confess to him. I don’t imagine this one will be any different, even if she is doing it in person.”

“Yeah . . . I just hope he doesn’t make her-” You stopped talking mid-sentence when the tears started welling in the girl’s eyes and she turned to rush out of the classroom. “. . . cry,” you finished your thought.

Rolling your eyes, you returned to your desk, having completely forgot about getting something to eat from the vending machine, and looked to Tsukki, who was completely unfazed.

“That looked like it went well,” you quipped. “Remind me to never confess my undying love for you.”

“All I did was tell her that I wasn’t interested,” he explained. “I don’t know how I could have possibly been any nicer.”

“Well, no offence, but considering you are you, I’m sure there was a way.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

For the following 24 hours, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get the look on that poor girl’s face after being rejected by Tsukki out of your head. Of course, you had no idea what he had actually said to her, but whatever it had been had been enough to make her cry . . . would he say something as equally insensitive if you ever decided to tell him how you felt?

By some stroke of luck, Tsukki wasn’t at school the next day, giving you time to clear your head without having to put up a facade for hours on end. However, you hadn’t been completely alone the entire day, and Yamaguchi was more observant than you had originally thought he was.

“Something’s bothering you,” Yamaguchi said out of nowhere as the two of you walked home after school that day. “Do you want to tell me or do you want me to guess?”

You chuckled softly. “You have three guesses and if you don’t get it right, you have to buy me a snack from the corner store when we pass it.”

“Deal.” Yamaguchi nodded, an aura of self-confidence practically radiating off of him. “Okay, let’s see . . . you got a bad test grade?”

You shook your head, convinced there was no way he could possibly guess correctly. “Nope.”

“You don’t like what your parents are cooking for dinner tonight?”

You snorted. “Nope, that’s not it.”

“Ah, okay. One guess left.” He was silent for a moment as he thought. “Could it be that you’re upset with how Tsukki turned down that girl at school yesterday because you have feelings for him but now you’re afraid that he will reject you in the same way?”

You stopped dead in your tracks, your jaw dropping. Yamaguchi just grinned. The sneaky bastard had been playing you all along.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” He played it off as a lucky guess. “Does this mean you’re buying the snacks then?”

“I . . . I guess so?” You were unsure how to respond. “But, wait, how did you know?”

“Tsukki may be completely oblivious to the general concept of feelings, but I’m not,” Yamaguchi said as he started toward the store that was in sight in the distance. “Now come on, I’m hungry!”

Completely shaken, you moved forward without really thinking about it and followed Yamaguchi. After you paid for two candy bars, the two of you continued on your way, Yamaguchi munching happily as if nothing had even happened and you staring at the still-wrapped treat in your hands, at a loss of words.

“If you knew I liked him this whole time, how come you’ve never said anything?” You finally found your voice.

“Because I figured you would share when you were ready,” he answered. “But now I think you’re never going to tell him because you’re too scared.”

“Of course I’m scared!” You threw your arms into the air dramatically. “You saw the poor girl running away with tears in her eyes. You’ve seen how he laughs at sappy romance stuff. How could I possibly feel anything but scared?!”

Yamaguchi thought for a moment. “Well, sure, it’d be scary if you were anyone else . . . but you’re not. You’re you. Judging by this whole situation, you don’t know this, but he likes you too.”

For the second time in less than an hour, you had been completely floored. “He what now?”

“Did you think he really hung out with you all the time and blatantly turned down other girls’ confessions in front of you because he just thinks you’re a good friend?”

You nodded, flabbergasted. “Y-yes?”

“You two are so unbelievably oblivious it’s actually hard to watch you guys running in circles around each other. Just tell him how you feel. I guarantee he won’t turn you down.” Yamaguchi suddenly stopped in his tracks and gestured to the house behind him; Tsukki’s house.

Without even realizing it, Yamaguchi had lead you right into your waking nightmare.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “You conniving little-”

“You’ll thank me later. You both will.” He shoved you up the walkway to the front door before continuing down the road to his own house. “Good luck!”

“Yeah . . . thanks,” you huffed, eyeing the closed door in front of you. You had stood on this porch a hundred times before, knocked on the door a hundred times before, but today was different.

Maybe Yamaguchi was right. Maybe Tsukki did like you back, and the only way to know for sure was to simply ask.

Before you could psych yourself out or change your mind, you pounded on the front door three solid times and glued your eyes to the doorknob, waiting for it to turn.

Less than a minute later, you could heard footsteps inside and felt heat rush to your face. Were you actually going to do this?

When the door swung open and Tsukki stood before you, dressed in pajama pants and a sweater, definitely looking a little on the ill side, you felt your heart jump into your throat.

“Hey,” you greeted. “How are you feeling?”

The boy eyed you curiously. “Better now, thanks. Why are you here?”

“I, um . . . I have a confession for you,” you said before you could stop yourself. The words just sort of tumbled out of your mouth and now there was nothing you could do to avoid the situation.

An amused look spread across Tsukki’s face. “You didn’t need to come all the way to my house for that. Just throw the card out and eat whatever candy came with it. You know the drill. It’s just another girl who-”

“There’s no card or any candies,” you told him and he cocked a brow. “And it’s not from just another girl . . . this one is from me.”

His face paled and his hand dropped from the doorknob he had still been holding onto, an indication that he had been ready to say goodbye to you pretty quickly. Now, however, he seemed to sense the seriousness of the conversation and had decided it was worth sticking around a little longer for.

“I won’t stand here and tell you that your eyes sparkle in the sun or that my heart does backflips when I see you, because you’ve heard that shit a million times,” you said. “But I will say that I like when you share your music with me or when you let me in on your inside jokes. You make me feel really special and I like that. I like you, Kei, and I just thought that I should tell you.”

“Oh.” He looked eerily similar to a deer in headlights and you were just waiting for him to slam the door in your face. But he didn’t. His hand did reach for the doorknob once again, but instead of closing the door, he opened it wider. “Do you want to come watch a new documentary with me?”

That hadn’t exactly been the response you had been expecting, but considering you weren’t currently a sobbing mess, you knew it could have gone a lot worse.

“I would like that.” You smiled and stepped into the house. “I might not have a whole box of chocolates, but I do have this.” You pulled the candy bar out of your pocket. “We can share it.”

“I would like that.” Tsukki closed the door behind you.

From that day on, even though you and Tsukki never officially declared your love for one another or referred to each other as ‘boyfriend’ or ‘girlfriend’, you knew you had moved on from simply being friends.

And sure, sometimes you still got confessions for him from random girls, but it didn’t bother you nearly as much anymore. How could it when you knew, without a sliver of a doubt, that Tsukki only had eyes for you?

#haikyuu #tsukishima #tsukki #tsukishima kei #tsukishima scenarios #tsukki x reader #middle blocker #yamaguchi #yamaguchi tadashi #reader #reader insert #x reader #lostinthewiind #fanfiction #oneshot #fluff #PG

197 notes · View notes

kaleuh · 2 years

Text

I've been blue. The things happening in the world of Deltarune today rattled my foundation in the same way I'd felt when I heard this for the first time. It's always Fall. There's something about Autumn and this game. On my walk to The Fair, I wondered how Toby is able to encapture peoples' memories within music without ever having even known them.

I got to the Fair. Today is about 🟡. Her heart's been broken up, and they wanted to make it up to her by giving her a wonderful day, doing things she loves. 🟢 was especially adamant about getting her back to her old self - it's been a hard year and keeping her happy has been a priority (even though she herself is usually the one taking on most of the burdens.) 🔴, ever excited to make fun of shitty palm readers, was on confidence duty as always.

Things were wonderful. We got her cotton candy, went on the Gravitron (that spinny UFO thing), the Pirate ship (loved this one), and got some cotton candy. She was hurt slightly when she found that she couldn't get onto the ferris wheel as a solo rider, but things were about to look up. There was the Round-Up; similar to the Gravitron but fully outdoors and high up in the air, so you feel as though you're going to be flung out of the thing at any moment. We went on, and something clicked. That flying feeling. I watched her melt into the sky. 🟢 knew at that moment that we needed to go on again - but this time, with music. She's so smart. We only had four tickets though, but she budgeted to buy an extra ticket. It would be the best extra $1.75 I've ever spent.

We snuck our headphones on and started to spin. Surrounded, by people of all ages - smiling, laughing, all at different stages in their lives. I'm still not quite sure how I found this song, but for whatever reason, it was the one stuck in my head when I got to The Fair. All I could picture was us in the sky, and in that moment, I felt life in 🟡. Something about this song, filling me with silly nonsense visions of all of us on a flying ship. And I heard 🟡, singing at the bow of the sky. Singing her heart out, to the whole world. 🟢 looked on, teary and overjoyed with pride in her. 🔴 would never admit it, but she had that same gleamy look in her eyes too.

And with the sun on my face - not quite sunset but gleaming with a white gold - I felt it again. The Love for All Things. That rapturous ballad in the heartbeat of the earth, the one that makes reality so beautiful that you feel like you might be dreaming. I felt my head lull, reeling with the drunkenness of feeling. Ecstasied by every existing thing. Planes overhead carrying a friend you'll meet 20 years from now. Lifelines on your palms drenched in the fingerprints of those who took your hands today. Hearing a song create space in your mind for a memory you'll live with as company in your days. Singing, smiling, spinning, I thought, Oh how I wish we could all stay this way, on this wheeling carnival ride forever.

And with one more look at the sun, I saw that we already were. I felt the singing, smiling, spinning thing we ride together. Eternally, for the rest of our lives, for those about to ride, and thereon after, I hope this never ends.

Tears stung my eyes as I reached up.

how big, how blue, how beautiful.

#hometown day #Kayla's personal life #Dizzied and weeping; stumbling all the way home #drenched in sun #doused with music

3 notes · View notes

yeojaa · 4 years

Text

( SOMETHING COMFORTING. )

Jeon Jungkook loves Overwatch, drinking games, and Halloween. What he loves more than that? You.

pairing. gamer!jjk x named f!reader.

genre + rating. idol!au set in room filled with bunnies and a cotton candy machine that’s exploded. it’s just that fluffy. (but also explicit cause why not.)

tags / warnings. established relationship, gaming (overwatch), dorky weeb references, mentions of drinking, yugyeom makes an appearance (!!), fingering, soft soft soft love making in the shower.

wc. 9.7k

beta reader(s). the lovely @kerikaaria read through this to make sure i didn’t get too nerdy. tysm! 💛 i may like further changes once my beloved @hobi-gif gets her hands on it but i’m a potato who wanted to post this quickly. oops...

author note. this fulfills the “jeon jungkook” square of @btsholidaybingo‘s bts holiday bingo 2020 and this is the couple from angels & airwaves. while this story isn’t super plot-driven, it’s meant to be a little peek into the lives of a couple that live in my mind rent-free and continue to make me soft and gooey inside. i hope you enjoy it!

You don’t know how he talked you into it or how it really happened. You remember, faintly, the mention of a party. Something about it being a small thing - just a few close friends, the members, etc. He’d said it so offhand, like commenting on the sky or asking for another package of Choco Boys, so you hadn't given it a second thought. If it was important, he’d bring it up again and if not, well, you hardly remembered it anyway. Win-win or whatever.

So you’d given up some intelligence points, traded them for space to fit more gaming knowledge. Somewhere along the line went your memory too - the conversation wiped from your brain like Will Smith had lasered it clean.

“Zarya’s one! Zarya’s one—“ You’re not sure how many times you can repeat yourself, shrieking through comms to a team that doesn’t seem to want to listen. You’re blasted into oblivion, Mercy’s prone body launched across the map as you watch your Rein fall too. There’s an irritation bubbling in your stomach, fizzing uncomfortably like the Japanese honeydew soda you’d had at lunch. “Zarya’s actually one!”

No one cares. She’s healed by the time you respawn and make it back across the map.

“Jesus—“ Your push-to-talk remains off for that flippant comment, distaste colouring your words a bitter shade of blue. You almost want to let your Ashe get headshot by the enemy Widow, only switching the stream from damage boosting to healing when your teammate starts spamming their hotkey.

I need healing! I need healing!

What you need is a team that listens to your calls or at the very least communicates in some way. Doesn’t seem like it’s going to happen though. There’s near radio silence in the voice chat, the only other person remotely helpful being your bouncing booping Lucio that’s trying to keep a flanking Tracer off point. Stupid. You almost feel bad for him, Guardian Angeling to him when no one else seems to want to offer any support.

Ah, the life of a support player in masters ranked. So infuriating and yet— nope. Just infuriating.

You lose the first round with 1:56 to spare, to no one’s surprise. Okay, maybe to your Reinhardt’s surprise. He’s being surprisingly chipper in text chat, sending WP and a dorky smiley face. You think he must volunteer at the local animal shelter and buy coffee for the people behind him in the drive-thru. He’s far too well-adjusted, not shooting off a single accusation to anyone on the team. A silver lining, you suppose.

Your second round starts well enough. Your comp is solid - as much as it can be in the current off-tank dominated meta. Hog, Zarya, a private profiled GM Widowmaker, Tracer, Lucio, and you as Ana. You’d prefer to play Mercy - find the most comfort in her skill set - but on an attack map, you’re not risking a headshot right out of spawn. Broken maximum damage good stuff means healers are squishy and you don’t have your usual DPS to boost. (He’s off doing god knows what - maybe filming an ad for Samsung or breaking the internet with his permed man bun.)

You make it through the choke without much ado. The enemy Rein is wildly out of position, eager to make some big brained play that goes terribly wrong. Your Lucio chuckles through voice and you join him, tossing a nade when your Zarya looks like she’s about to die to a poorly executed 360 shatter.

“You winning?”

It’s your boyfriend peeking over your shoulder, so close you nearly scream, mouse launched across your desk with the intensity of your reaction. You hadn’t heard him come in, the stupid sneaky bastard as quiet as a mouse.

(It’s not your own fault. He knows you can’t hear anything when you’ve got your headphones on, the noise cancelling in your state of the art Sennheisers not something to scoff at.)

“Jeez, Kook!” You want to be more mad. Really, you do. You’re scrambling across your desk to retrieve your mouse, squeaking a quick apology into team voice when your hero stays in one place for too long. Luckily, Hog - previously sweet kind Rein - throws his big fat piggy self directly in front of you, effectively saving you from an otherwise miserable death at the hands of Torbjorn.

“What?” Jeon Jungkook has the audacity to look scandalised, shiny eyes so wide and innocent they feel more as if they belong in an early 2000s anime.

You’re not even looking at him when you huff - too invested in your Overwatch game to give him the hell he deserves. All you manage is a swift don’t scare me like that! as you pump your tanks back to full health.

You notice Jungkook hasn’t moved away, still peering curiously over your shoulder. You know he hasn’t had much time to play lately, too involved with appearances for their comeback, his schedule too packed even for you some days. You don’t blame him when he pulls his chair up behind you, rolling into place so he’s just within your periphery.

It’s a little distracting; he smells good, like his - and by extension your - favourite laundry detergent and a fruity, nectarine-heavy shampoo you’d picked up for him when he’d run out of his usual. You notice then that his hair is wet, just the wrong-side of too damp with droplets beading over his neck. Moisture soaks into the top of his shirt and you think it might be more soaked than you can see; it’s hard to tell when it’s a jet black shirt, one of the many he keeps in your closet for the nights he stays over. You realise then that he must’ve been home far longer than you’d thought, if his freshly washed pink cheeks are any indication. (Because he takes seriously long showers, nearly doubling your water bill in the year you’ve been together.)

You want to ask what he’s doing here - you’d sworn he was busy for the next few days - but can’t find the adequate brain power to do so. You’re playing an incredibly high skill character (your words) and if you don’t get this goddamn shot on your Lucio to keep him up, your team is going to die (your ego’s words).

‘Ask Kook about his day’ gets scribbled on a paper on the desk in your head and filed away under To Do Later in your overflowing brainiac filing cabinet.

“Can we pleaaaaase focus their Zarya? She has grav.” Though you offer the tidbit of information, you don’t assume it’s going to be relied upon. Your team is well on their way to taking first point - surprisingly - and there’s still nearly three minutes left on the clock. If the six of you idiots can keep it together and kill that goddamn Zarya, there’s no doubt in your mind you’ll win the game.

Alas, fate is but a cruel mistress and said Zarya gets said grav off, sucking your own Russian tank and Tracer-turned-Soldier into her hell void. Not even your well-timed nade can save them from the Genji that dragon blades directly into their faces. Your poor Lucio dies to the same ult and you imagine you or your Widow are next. Your Hog’s just respawning, his lumbering silhouette not even on screen.

“Rip,” says your boyfriend - like the sound, not the letters - from beside you, a droplet of water splashing across your wrist when he shakes his head. He looks disappointed - as if he’s the one that’s lost the match. It makes you laugh, the sound tripping off your tongue despite the overwhelming rage you’re currently battling.

“Rip is right,” you mumble back, tossing yourself off the map. If you’re gonna die, it'll be on your own terms. Jungkook chuckles at that.

By the time you respawn, both you and Widow are joining a fight that looks like it’s going surprisingly well. There’s no one on point and you’re capping uncontested. Widow even headshots a wayward Moira.

“You should go top left.”

You don’t turn your head. Jungkook’s always been a bit of a backseat gamer, whether he’s watching your stream while he’s out of town or sitting right beside you. Sometimes, you love it; other times, you hate it. Most times, though, he’s right. He has surprisingly good game sense, despite being lower ranked than you (something you remind him of constantly, without shame).

“Can we go top left?” You parrot into your speaker.

For once, your team listens, most of them running up the sidewall with Widow right down main. Not for the first time you wish you were playing Mercy, if only to be able to damage boost your sniper while she distracts the enemy team. Still, you make due, taking your boyfriend’s next piece of advice when it comes, unsolicited. “You should be back right by the stairs. You can see up the hall and still heal Widow on top.”

You’d kiss him if you weren’t so intently focused, unable to tear your gaze from the screen when the enemy team seems to pluck their strategy directly from Jungkook’s skull and hold conservatively on point. Amazing.

“Your Zarya has grav. She’ll probably throw it on point so you should nade as soon as you get in and Widow can pick them off without full charge.”

If he were anyone else, you’d probably be giving him hell for mansplaining your favourite game to you. As it stands, you follow his instructions to the letter and the Team Kill marker flashes across your screen.

“Told you,” he quips, ever the snooty dork you adore.

“I was going to say thank you.” Just not right now. You can’t multitask quite like he can.

If you could look over, you think you’d see him grinning from ear to ear, buck teeth and dimples on full display. “I know.”

As it stands, the other team has trouble getting on point fast enough and you’re left with a whopping 3:56 left on the clock. Thank freaking god. You can win this, you think. Easy. No problem.

“Go Ana on defense.” At some point, Jungkook had gotten up to find a snack and he returns now, bag of shrimp chips in his hand and packet of matcha Pocky held between his teeth. You open your mouth for a stinky tasty treat and he shoves four crisps in, unceremoniously and with his signature dummy grin.

You manage to crunch crunch crunch through it all but shoot him a glare the entire time. He only smiles wider, all perfectly white enamel and enough cuteness to make your heart skip a beat.

“Do you just want to play?” You don’t mean it seriously. You don’t mind him watching and you know he enjoys pretending like he’s better than you. It’s a strange give and take but one that’s uniquely yours, built over nearly a year of online friendship and another year of a real-life relationship.

“Nah, I’m snacking.” He punctuates his response as a child would, shoving a handful of chips into his mouth. You wonder, briefly, why you love him so much when he’s a certifiable goon.

The third match begins and you’re not too proud to say you spend most of it following Jungkook’s directions. He tells you to sleep the enemy Genji trying to scale the right wall - you do. He tells you to nade once their Rein gets in because your own Rein is going to shatter - you do. He tells you to do the macarena and— okay, that, you don’t.

You sweep the match, leaving the other team without a single tick.

When it comes to the final round, he seems to have lost interest in the game, instead rolling himself back to his computer with a parting, wayward ruffle of your hair. You don’t blame him but you thank him nonetheless, blowing a kiss before he settles his headphones over his ears.

You, of course and unsurprisingly, win the game. There’s nothing like using a Sym portal onto point when they’ve got a Bastion set up off point and no shield to protect him from the back.

Satisfied, you don’t bother requeueing and instead force yourself into your boyfriend’s personal space, draping your arms across the idol’s neck as he scrolls through YouTube like a zombie. “We won,” you sing-song into his ear, proud and a little smug.

“Of course you did.” He sounds equally smug and you suppose the win does belong to the both of you. He’d been a great coach.

“What’re you doing here?” It’s pure curiosity offered in the form of a kiss to his cheek, fingers locked across the broad expanse of his chest. He’s delightfully warm beneath you, familiar and unyielding as you sink over the back of his computer chair. (You can feel the chair creaking as it reclines. You don’t care.)

“Whaddya mean?”

The look he levels you with makes you think you’ve grown a second head.

“Your schedule said you had a thing tonight.” You remember, because you’d been disappointed. Halloween was one of your favourite holidays and all you’d wanted was to watch some campy horror movies and use him as a personal eye shield and security blanket combo.

“We have a thing,” he states, like he’s talking to a moron. You know it isn’t meant meanly, too emphatic and amused to hurt your feelings.

When you echo his words (“We?”) you swear you see him roll his eyes in the reflection of his computer screen. Luckily, he laughs, sweet and cracky, somewhere high in his throat - a barking hyena. It’s so cute - your favourite thing in the world - that you don’t have it in you to shame him for it.

“Yeah, we,” Jungkook repeats around something close to a snicker. “Halloween party, baby. Seriously— you forgot?”

It’s then and there you have two crises: (a) you don’t have a costume and (b) Halloween party? You didn’t think idols had those. Weren’t they all too hip and cool to get together to dress up and act stupid?

(You know the answer is no. Exhibit A being the costume-wearing dance practices BTS put out.)

“I don’t have anything to wear.” It’s truly the one thing holding you back, creasing the soft skin between your brows to resemble a peach. It’s also nearing seven in the evening and you’re absolutely certain you’re not going to find something so late in the day.

To your surprise. Jungkook looks flabbergasted, that same you-have-two-heads stare wrought across his face. It’d be endearing if it were directed at anyone else but with it trained on you, it’s rubbing you and your confusion the wrong way. Why’s he looking at you like that? Why’s your memory so bad? Why hasn’t he said anything to answer all of life’s questions?

“You said you’d go as witch Mercy.”

All at once, you’re pulled back to the offhand conversation, the pleading in his eyes, your half-asleep acceptance. It’s the memory you’d lost somewhere along the way in upgrading your in-brain video game storage. A conversation had in bed, his cheeks so big and full of joy they’d waned his eyes into crescents, and your uncoordinated answer because you’d just wanted to go to sleep and not think about anything after indulging in a few too many mochi cream buns.

“I— don’t remember that.” You’re lying through your damn teeth. Your parents would be devastated, all their hard earned money wasted on the braces-straightened enamel that was now letting lies pass.

“But you did!” He’s like a kid being denied candy, rounded bottom lip dropping into a pout that should, frankly, be illegal. It’s far too powerful on him, paired with those Bambi eyes that scream don’t eat (hate/deny/etc.) me! You can only scowl at him, because you know your own puppy dog eyes only work 100% of the time half of the time whereas his track record was immaculate.

“Okay, but I forgot to get the—“

“I have it!”

Jeon Jungkook has an answer for everything, it seems.

“I picked it up on the way here. It’s in your room along with my costume.”

The knowledge of his own intrigues you, squarely centring your curiosity on that and not the fact that you apparently need to get tested for early onset dementia. “Who’re you going as?”

“You’ll see.”

Your costume is spectacular. You can’t even find it in yourself to put up much of a fight when your boyfriend reveals it like you’ve won the lottery, throwing his arms wide in a flourish.

It’s incredibly well made, intricately tailored in a way that makes you worry how much it costs. (When you bring it up to him, Jungkook simply shrugs. You think it’s as much a gift for you as it is for him.) It’s witchy and eye-catching, the belt hung across your hips clipped with an actual book - hollowed out, thank god but also poor thing. The hat that sits on your head is neatly crumpled, sitting at such an angle you worry whether you’ll need to avoid too-low door frames. Your wings - well, you’re almost too afraid to touch them; Jungkook has to help you pull them over your arms, falling into near hysterics when you twitch your elbow the wrong way and smack him right between the eyes.

“I don’t think I can pull this off,” you state, somberly, despite the fact that you’re not terribly self-conscious. (You were, once. Being in a relationship with someone that worships your body has helped with that.)

The top of your outfit is fitted, boned and ribbed and snapped together in all the right places. Leather stands in stark contrast to your skin - summer-soft and gently golden - and hugs curves that don’t quite exist, falling short in a way that has you glaring down at your own chest. You’ve never wanted a Playboy body but in this sort of costume, it practically demands it. (You try not to dwell on the fact that you’ve been conditioned to want to look like an impractically designed video game hero.)

From the foot of your bed comes a snort, a derisive sound that draws your attention. Jungkook’s unabashed in how he admires you, stare roving over every inch like he’s about to devour you. You’re not sure how you can feel so soft for him when he looks completely the opposite, jaw set and expression sharp. A Greek god carved from hardened honey, dressed in Balenciaga blue. “You look great, angel.”

Your heart skips a beat - plays a funny little game of tag with itself - and you can’t help the smile that comes, brought to life by his reassurance. It isn’t necessary to rebuff him then - eyes rolling, laugh spilling - but you do it anyway. “You have to say that. You’re my boyfriend.”

“I don’t have to say anything,” he retorts, levelling you with a look that has your insides molten. It’s the look that reads don’t test me but also I love you and you’re my idiot. It’s your favourite look in the world, lending wings to your flimsy heart. “You look great because you always look great, no matter what.”

“What about when you found me in the shower ?”

Jungkook hesitates then. He’s no liar and he had almost had a heart attack the first time it’d happened. He’d been minding his business, half-asleep and battling the need to piss, when he’d noticed you curled up in the bathroom. How he hadn’t realised you were missing from bed, he’s not sure. All he knew was that you’d terrified him, mentioning something about invading refrigerators when he was pulling his dick out of his boxers.

His scream was what had woken you up; yours was what had him bashing his head into the wall, foot slipping on the soft pink bathroom rug. You could laugh about it now but at the time, you’d thought he’d cracked his skull right open, shouting his name so loudly the neighbours had complained.

(Lucky for you two, they were a nice elderly couple who sometimes had you babysit their grandson. They’d laughed it off when you’d apologised with a loaf of fresh bread and a bandage wrapped around your boyfriend’s head.)

“Okay— that was scary. I thought you’d crawled out of the drain or something.” A shudder rolls through Jungkook’s body, shaking him from his shoulders all the way down to his knees. It’s a strangely adorable reaction from someone who looks like he could bench press you.

“You’re calling me the Grudge?” You’re deeply offended, gloved hands clasping over your chest as if to pull out the treacherous dagger he’s just lodged there. He only rolls his eyes, leaning forward to catch you in his arms; he’s relentless as he drags you to him, side of his face pressed to the bare skin of your thigh. His cheek’s searing but you’re not surprised; Jungkook ran hot, keeping you warm in winter and sweltering in summer. (Ah, the price you paid for love.)

“Yeah, you haunt me in my dreams.”

“That’s not the Grudge, Kook.” Your scoff earns you a pinch, right where the top of your stockings end. It blooms red beneath his fingers, a little reminder of his competitive I’m-never-wrong nature. You swat his hand away, not too bothered when it only finds a home elsewhere, hooked behind your knee. Jungkook had a habit of needing to be in constant contact. A little quirk of his you adored.

“I’m serious. You look—” You should clock the look on his face, the wiggle of mischief up his nose. A dead giveaway shining bright - a beacon. “—bewitching.”

If the book weren’t attached to your hip, you’d be clobbering him with it. Instead, you’re left to whack him with the equally intricate Caduceus staff, booping it over his shoulders. You feel like a certain shamanic mandrill, Jungkook the idiotic lion that’s asking for an earful.

“Shut up!” You’re laughing despite yourself and he is too, holding you so recklessly close it’s hard to hit him without hurting yourself. All part of his plan, you suppose. “You’re so freaking corny.”

“It’s because I’m a-maize-ing, ang—”

Another wap! to the head, shielded only by a tattooed hand that curls over his ear.

“Okay! Sorry!” Except he doesn’t look very sorry. More pleased that you’ve stopped the assault, dark hair pushed back from his forehead as he stares up at you. You hate how he’s so handsome - how you forget yourself when he smiles that smile, nearly yeeting your whole heart directly into the sun.

“Are you going to put on yours yet?”

It’s quarter past nine already and all you’ve done is rope him into eating some chapaguri - you’ve been obsessed with it since a few weeks ago - and play real life Witch Barbie. You have a feeling if you don’t get him into his own costume soon, you’re never going to leave the apartment. (Not that you really mind.)

Your boyfriend - bless his heart - pretends not to hear you, suddenly intently focused on an indiscernible spot past your hip. It’d be more believable if he was glued to his phone or doing anything remotely interesting. Instead, you stare down at him and count the seconds until he realises just how silly he looks. It usually comes around six, paired with a forced chuckle and that lisp you love.

Today, it comes after the fourth count.

“You’re gonna think it’s lame.” Well, of course you will. As his girlfriend - and one of his best friends, you’d like to think - it’s your relationship-given right to shame him for his more often than not absurd ideas. It’s what you deserve for suffering through all his bad jokes and 3 AM Instagram spams.

With a hand on his cheek, you squeeze the apple like you’ve seen a certain member do a million times. “So?”

He’s not really sure how to respond to that, mouth drawn into a pout that reminds you of children’s television show about penguins. It’s unfairly adorable. Still, you push. Jungkook’s bad at saying no to you - always has been, even before he really knew you. From “one more game!” to “bring me bingsu”, you always got what you wanted.

(Which wasn’t to say you asked for a lot. You were happy - more than that, ecstatic and over the moon - with the bare minimum. A selfie while on the plane, some shoddy cinematography during dance practice, a voicemail to wake up to. You didn’t love Jungkook for all the things he gave you; rather, you loved him for who he was, who he’d always been even before you knew who he really was.)

“Don’t laugh.” By the look on his face, you’re worried it’s something awful. The cheesiest thing in the world come to life to haunt you on your beloved spooky holiday.

It turns out to be the opposite: one of your favourite characters realised in the form of your achingly handsome boyfriend. He looks so good you’re not certain whether it’s your attraction to him or him in that particular guise that’s stronger. You figure it doesn’t matter one way or another. For tonight, they’re one and the same.

“Joker? Seriously?” You can’t hide the delight. It colours every syllable, sets them glowing like a neon sign.

Your boyfriend only rolls his eyes, as if he’d predicted this reaction. Dressed as he is, the movement is impossible to miss, brought into focus by the white domino mask. “Don’t sound so excited.” It’s an actual concern of his. He’s seen you sink upwards of ninety hours on the video game, playing it in the early hours when he’s fast asleep and you’re battling another night of insomnia.

Once, he’d asked whether you loved him or Joker more. He hadn’t liked the answer (joking as it was) and had spent the better part of the evening pouting.

This time, you’re sweet as pie, eyes so dark and twinkly he wonders whether he’s staring at the night sky. You wonder the same yourself almost every night, lost in the constellations of his irises. It’s the most intimate form of stargazing you can afford, a luxury you indulge in frequently. You’ve mapped the different formations, named them in honour of all the special moments you’ve shared; you think to label one for this night too.

“You look so good.” You don’t hesitate to brush his hair from his eyes. It’s still relaxing from the perm he’d gotten days ago, curling like classic calligraphy over his eyes. It’s surprisingly soft between your fingers, silk despite the constant heat styling. Bastard. “I can’t believe you’re going as Joker. You don’t even like Persona 5!”

By how Jungkook looks at you then - the same way he did the first time you met standing on the street corner in Dotonbori and a hundred more times since then - you realise it doesn’t matter. He’s dressed this way because you like the character.

“Oh,” you say, because there’s not much more to say. Nothing that needs to be said as he grins down at you, so heartbreakingly handsome you’ll never get used to it.

“Yeah,” he parrots back, a little smug.

Bangtan’s golden maknae is having the time of his life. He’s four cups deep into a game of beer pong that’s played like the Wimbledon classic, back hunched, jaw set. You’d think he was battling it out for the title of God of Beer Pong if you didn’t know better. (You suppose he is.)

“Angel, come here!” He’s giddy - slightly glazed in the eyes - as he waves you over, a red-gloved hand beckoning you to his side. Despite how good he looks in the costume - every weakness of yours encapsulated by the intricate dress shirt that hugs him like a second skin - the gesture is decidedly adorable, an eager puppy seeking unconditional love. There’s simply too much affection in his voice, so much sugar-spun love that you can’t deny him (even as you consider jumping his bones at a party full of people).

He’s shining as bright as the sun and you want nothing more than to live within his warmth.

With your fingers twined, he pulls you to him, drawing you tight against his side like he doesn’t need that same hand to throw another ball. You don’t mind. You know he’ll sink it even with his left hand.

“I’m winning,” he states, as if it weren’t wildly obvious by the fact all cups remain untouched on his side.

Across the table, Yugyeom’s eyes roll so far back you want to laugh. Jungkook’s competitive side is endearing at best and infuriating at worst. Luckily, his competition is enjoying himself too much to give him shit.

(He’s also probably too drunk to, given how badly he’s doing.)

“I see that.” You’re not a big drinker yourself but you like seeing Jungkook in his element. He thrives in this sort of setting, showing off all the talents he has and then some. It’s just another stage to him, somewhere he can prove himself (even if it’s over something as small as how good his bounce-shot is). “How many games have you won?” Because he’s been at this table for the last hour, dropping his competition like flies.

“All of them.” God, his ego. You know you shouldn’t stroke it but you can’t help it, brushing a hand through his tousled hair in the way he likes best. Fingers over his scalp, thumb rubbing soothing circles across the nape of his neck. He nearly melts then, tilting his head into the gentle caress.

“Good job, Kook.”

You’re so lost in your own little world that poor Yugyeom has to pull you both from it, launching a poorly-aimed white ping pong ball at the two of you. To no one’s surprise, it careens past your heads, hitting the wall behind you and disappearing off to god knows where.

“Can we play?” Again, that eye roll, visible just past the bandages that loosely wrap his cheeks. You know he’s only teasing, that he’s actually quite a fan of your and Jungkook’s dumb coupling (he’s told you), but you return his mockery with a raised hand, thumb and forefinger waving in salute.

“Losers don’t get to complain.”

The idol throws a hand to his chest, the gesture bordering on sloppy from the liquor that threads his limbs. Still, it’s cute, earning a sweet laugh from you and a witch’s cackle from your boyfriend. (How fitting.) “I’m hurt, Yoojin-ssi.”

It’s Jungkook’s turn to tease, brattiness flipped on like a haywire lightswitch. “No, you’re just bad at games!” He’s a sniggering schoolgirl, lines wrapping the delicate skin of his nose, streaking joy into the wrinkles beneath his eyes. Slightly-too-big front teeth are on full display, his expression the embodiment of an “uwu” emote.

That riles Yugyeom up, powder puff of hair bounding over to you before you have time to blink. In the next moment, your boyfriend’s half-wrestling with him, their arms locked around each other like some sort of weird four-limbed octopus. (Video game protagonist vs. hot mummy— who will win?) You jump back just in time, avoiding a wayward fist and laughing merrily. Idiots, the both of them.

“You guys have fun.” And then you’re gone, off to busy yourself with people who won’t accidentally give you a black eye or knock over the nearest thing not bolted to the ground.

You can still hear them tussling when you latch yourself to the back of a certain blond. He’s dressed like one of your greatest nightmares - an actual clown, drawing inspiration from a certain 2017 blockbuster - and yet somehow still manages to look good. You don’t understand it and frankly, you’re a little envious, but such was life.

“Jimin-ssiiiii.”

“Ahhhhhh, stop!” It’s the same reaction he always has, paired with wiggling shoulders and sweet laughter that bounces around the room and stirs to life your own. Indisputable and lovely, the sound is brighter than the sun or the lights that currently swing through the chandelier lights above your heads. “You two are ridiculous.”

“He’s ridiculous, not me!” You know it isn’t true. Separately, you and Jungkook were idiotic enough, finding humour in the silliest things (funny threads on r/Relationship_Advice and four year old Vines). But together? It was a two-person circus, graduate professors at clown college.

You absolutely loved it.

“Sure, sure,” the dancer hums, delightfully disbelieving as he takes another shot. One of three lined up across the counter, clear in little orange cups made to look like pumpkins. A whiff tells you they’re strawberry soju - your least favourite flavour. You decline with a wrinkled nose and waving hand when he offers you one. Jimin shrugs and downs the next, delicately wiping the corner of his mouth when he misjudges the pour. “Aren’t you drinking?”

You wiggle the half-empty Cass bottle in your hand in response and receive a scoff, different bottle - green, unopened - thrust into your other.

“Drink this!”

“You want me to drink an entire bottle?” You’re incredulous. Jimin’s seen you on the edge of intoxication and more than a little sloppy, giggling like a schoolgirl. It’s not unbecoming - you know better than to get blackout - but laughable nonetheless. Something to record and post on Snapchat with a voice-altering filter.

“It’s Halloween!” The pumpkin shot glass makes you go cross-eyed before he’s knocking it back too. “Live a little!”

Who are you to say no to the recent birthday boy? It would simply be bad manners and you were nothing if polite (though, you’re sure some might beg to differ - Yoongi, maybe?).

The remnants of your beer are swallowed down in the next moment, so quickly you almost choke on it. Your life flashes before your eyes, Jimin’s hand on your shoulder as he beats breath into your body. “Don’t die!” He cries, despite the fact that it’s his fist that’s making it worse, doubling you over with hacking coughs.

“K-Kook’s g-going to kill you—”

“No, you’re fine.” He’s reassuring you just as much as himself, laughing too loudly as you straighten up. You wonder how red your face is when he takes your place, slapping his own knee as he shakes with amusement. “Your face, oh— Your face.”

It’s not meant to be offensive but your buzzed brain demands payment for each giggle.

The base of the green bottle collides with the back of his knee - gentle, gentle - just hard enough to have him properly toppling over, collapsing onto the carpet like a frail old grandpa without his cane. You can’t help the snicker that careens off your liquor-laden tongue.

That is, until he’s pulling you down with him and the two of you are a giggling, giddy mess, tucked beneath the edge of the bar as you laugh together. It’s a chorus of sound, unrelenting and building the longer you both sit on the floor. Jimin’s practically hunched over, head caught between his propped up arms. You imagine it’s a funny sight - two people in their twenties acting like college freshmen.

“Baby?” It’s your boyfriend, amused and confused as he stares down at your and Jimin’s prone bodies. He’s got that dent between his brows, the colour of his eyes all but swallowed up by the way his cheeks press wide with his smile. “What’re you doing down there?”

“Just hanging out,” you answer, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. At your side, Jimin’s still trying to collect himself, parroting your words around his lungfuls of quieting laughter.

“Are you drunk?”

You’re not, but that doesn’t stop you from gasping, overdramatic and with your unopened bottle of soju held aloft. A modern day olive branch. “No?”

Jungkook snorts and then all at once, he’s close. Too close - smelling of beer and your favourite cologne of his, citrusy and woodsy and every other nice thing you like. It fills your senses just as his smile does, blindingly bright and bunny-like. Even behind the mask, his good looks take your breath away. You must be staring up at him idiotically, all one hundred and sixteen pounds of ooey gooey tenderness. “You sound drunk, angel,” he teases, warm red-covered palm coming to cradle your cheek. It sears heat everywhere it touches, guiding the same hue over your skin. It creeps up your chest and over your ears, standing in contrast to the material of his gloves. “Pretty.”

(He really is, you think.)

“Get a room,” comes Jimin from beside you. There’s no malice in his voice - just soft affection for a couple of lovesick idiots.

“That’s the plan,” Jungkook replies, as if he’d been waiting for the moment. It skips off his tongue and settles into your ears, tipping your head curiously as you stare at him. He’s never been very shy about wanting you - at least, not since you’d made things official, so many months ago - but you’re surprised by the insinuation. When he speaks again, you realise your brain has been rolling around in the gutter, fallen out of your ears like candy from a worn pillow case. “Want to head home?”

You do. You really, really do.

When you stumble into your apartment - the same one with the polka-dot welcome rug and crisp white paint - you realise you were perhaps wrong about how drunk you are. Everything’s coming at you quite quickly, the ground beneath your feet somehow suddenly rushing at you like Mach Five.

“Whoa—” There’s an impossibly solid warmth against your back, fingers locked around your wrists that feel more like flimsy chicken feet. “Careful.”

Your boyfriend’s keeping you upright while stepping out of his boots - impossibly expensive supple dark leather - and you’re giggling all the while, practically sinking against him as he does his best to shuffle his shoes away and get you further into the hallway. “Sorry,” you offer in a terrible stage whisper, smiling wide when you catch sight of his, small and endlessly amused. It slips across his face even as he tries to bite it back, warring with the patience he holds in spades.

“Let’s just get these off.” He means the boots - the intricate, vaguely absurd things that creep up almost the entirety of your leg, neatly wrapped and knotted midway up your thigh. Dexterous as he is, it’s a task to unravel the strings and thread buttons when you’re weighing on him like a bag of bricks.

You’re fumbling for the tops, haphazardly smacking his hands away. “Here, let me.”

Somehow, you manage to get them off in what feels like record time. (In reality, it takes a good five minutes of futility before they’re left on the ground and Jungkook’s swept you into his arms, seemingly over waiting for you to do much else.)

“Oh, my prince charming,” you tease, clinging to him like a koala. You’re locked around him, practically suffocating him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s used to it when you’re this way, just a little too much liquid courage turning your level of affection to eleven. “Or are you the court jester? That’s what Joker is, right?” It’s a joke and a bad one at that. Still, your boyfriend indulges you, depositing a forced laugh against your shoulder as he navigates to your bedroom.

“You’re drunk.” He says it more kindly than you expect. Perhaps even more kindly than you deserve. You know he’s not exactly sober himself, his gaze verging on heavy-lidded. There’s sleepiness blending seamlessly with intoxication, softening the edge of his jaw, the narrow of his stare. It’s terribly tender, skipping your heart when you look at him dead on.

It comes without thought. You have to tell him. Your drunk brain and your puppy dog heart demand it. “I love you.”

Jungkook returns the confession with humour, eyes sparkling despite the haze of alcohol that dims them down. As always, he indulges you, giving you support in the form of his heart and his hands. (Literally, he’s still holding you even though you’ve reached your destination.) “Love you too.”

“Is it time for bed?” You’re surprisingly tired, despite the fact that you’d slept until late in the afternoon. You certainly wouldn’t mind falling face first into your mattress.

“You need a shower first.” It’s a simple statement of fact, you know that. You’ve got at least ten pounds of makeup on and your hair’s the furthest thing from soft and silky, carefully coiffed to mimic Mercy’s signature style. You still pretend like you’re just a bit offended, scowling into the face of your boyfriend even as he rolls his eyes, already somehow able to read the words written into your expression. “I meant we and no, I’m not calling you stinky.”

He’s stolen your thunder, as he so often does. You pout, as you so often do.

“Okay,” you relent, finally, moving to rest your head against his shoulder. You could get down - walk on your own two tired feet - but you’re enjoying the closeness, how warm and real he feels in comparison to the swimming surroundings. “Will you wash my hair?” You don’t really need to ask but do anyway, because you like the sound of his voice when it’s so close.

“You know I will.” Because he always does when you shower together (and it falls on a designated hair washing day - that was important).

You offer your thanks with a kiss, laid right over the jumping pulse in his neck. When Jungkook hums in acknowledgment, you feel the way the muscles constrict, his Adam’s apple jumping beneath your lips. You zero in on it with laser precision, mouthing over his throat. Somewhere above you - against the shell of your ear - he exhales a laugh, breath hot.

“We’re showering, baby.” As if that’s meant to stop you. He, more than anyone, should know how adamant you get, singularly focused on whatever’s got your attention. He’s been on the receiving end of it more than enough times, strung into playing another one, two, ten matches of Overwatch or hunting down the limited edition Funko Pops that now sit proudly on your white shelf (and behind your plants and on the ledge by the front door).

“We can shower and have fun,” you mumble into the expanse of his chest. He’s so pleasantly warm, unyielding and firm and so, so comfortable. You think you could live in the feeling of his arms. (You’re lucky you get to.) You don’t even mind the sudden cold of the counter or the space that forms between you when he sets you down, because he’s still caging you in where it matters most. “Right, JK?”

It’s a nickname you rarely use now - one that only comes out in times of desperation. You’ve never quite understood why it affects your boyfriend the way it does, stuttering the rhythmic beating of his heart, but you love it nonetheless. It makes you grin, high on power and giddy with nothing but sweetness.

He’d explained it to you once. Jay was how you’d met him, the version of himself you’d loved first. Jungkook was the side of himself he’d wanted to give you but couldn’t. JK was the in-between - the chaos and the calm. Hearing you say it brought back all the memories of year one and he liked that. You could only laugh at his sentimentality and tuck the piece of knowledge somewhere deep, to be pulled out in instances like this.

“Right, angel.” You don’t miss the colour on his cheeks - so pretty you reach your hands out to cup them, squishing them between your palms like an old grandmother testing a watermelon. You continue to hold him until he pulls your hands from his face, guiding them to the edge of the counter with gentle pressure. “Gotta get undressed to shower,” he chides, that twinkle in his eye that makes it hard to look away.

Really, how can he expect you to do anything when he’s got an entire unexplored galaxy hidden in his irises? It’s an absurd ask.

“Or I’ll help you.”

Your clothes fall away while you’re still staring up at him.

First, the gloves, peeled from your fingers with utmost care. Kisses fill the spaces between each finger, passed from knuckles to wrist, all the way up to your elbow. You squirm when his teeth graze the sensitive underside of your bicep. He stifles a snicker into the skin.

Next goes your cape and wings, hung on the door handle. His mouth warms the suddenly bare skin, pressing affection into the line of your shoulder, up over your neck. You don’t squirm this time, instead humming a noise of delight. You hardly notice when the corset goes next, undone by surprisingly nimble inked digits. There’s hardly a moment to savour the freedom - you can finally breathe - when his hands replace the cups, palms eager over your chest. He doesn’t hesitate to hold you, pinching your perked nipples with a sly grin.

“I thought we were going to shower.” The words are barely out before turning breathless, stolen by the way he easily palms your breast, dropping his face into the crook of your neck.

“We are, angel,” Jungkook teases, rolling your bud between his thumb and forefinger, other hand moved to splay across the now-bare small of your back. It’s almost embarrassing how easily you fall into him, drawn against him like a moth to a flame. “Just need to get you warmed up first.”

“The shower’ll be warm,” you say - or think you say, anyway. It isn’t quite articulated, half your brain left somewhere at the party (or maybe caught dead centre in the coil that’s tightening in your stomach).

“Do you want me to stop?” It’s so quiet you almost miss it, too distracted by how he slips the rest of your costume off. Shorts, thong, stockings, silly witch’s hat. “Tell me if you want me to stop, baby.” Ever the gentleman, he’s patient, meeting your glazed stare with something close to concern. You almost laugh in his face then - stopping short only when you note just how serious he is, the tell-tale set of his jaw shining like a familiar beacon.

You return your hands to his face, palms cradling his chin like he might break otherwise. “I never want you to stop.”

That’s all Jungkook needs before he’s slotting himself between your legs, mirroring your motion with hands creeping up the side of your neck, fingers ascending into the roots of your hair. He holds you close and kisses you like it’s all he’s ever wanted. “I love you,” he breathes, speaks against the corner of your mouth.

You parrot the words back at him and he grins, stepping away in the next moment. He laughs when you pout, offering a kiss in apology as he undoes the buttons of his dress shirt, slipping the soft cotton off. You stop then, entranced by the revealed skin, how it shifts with each adjustment of muscle, sinew tight over his arms and shoulders. You wonder, not for the first time, how you’d managed to luck out so spectacularly.

“Start the shower.”

You hop down with the direction, slipping past him to do exactly that. You don’t miss the way he rotates, brings himself closer as you move away. The magnetism is undeniable - always has been.

“I love you,” he states, again, bare against your back as you hover by the edge of the glass door, one hand stuck past to test the slow-warming stream. He’s solid, familiar and comfortable, as he slinks his arms back around you, heat burning the shape of his hands over your ribs, the shape of your hip. You think he might mark himself there, just as neatly as the floral ink does. You wouldn’t mind.

The water is welcome, bathing the both of you in steam when you step inside. It’s an incredibly relaxing feeling, being caught between the spray and the hard body behind you. You hum a noise of pure delight, turning your face toward the one that nuzzles itself into your neck, and bring your hands to rest over his, fingers slotting between ink.

“Hair?” You’re not in a terrible rush but you like redirecting his attention (pretending to, at least) - the teasing that formed the base of your relationship presenting itself in the quiet reminder. It earns the laugh you expect, muffled into your hair, featherlight over the delicate shell of your jewelled ear.

“Patience, baby.” It’s something Jungkook tends to say a lot, whether waiting in queue in Overwatch or in bed, with you a complete mess. He repeats it easily, like he’s the poster boy for the virtue. (He isn’t.)

“What am I waiting—” The question dies, swallowed whole by the gasp he draws from you with a wandering hand. Fingers slip across your stomach, digits deftly seeking out warmth as if you weren’t already enveloped in it. It’s a touch that’s tantalisingly slow, unfairly light, but it still makes you keen when it drags over your lips. A single digit pushes past muscle - so shallow you’re not sure you’re not just imagining it - before retreating, dragging your slick back up to your clit. The moment the pad of his finger makes contact with the sensitive bundle of nerves, you almost jump. Would, if he weren’t caging you with his other arm.

You feel the cold of his teeth bared against your neck then, the throaty laugh that pulls out of his chest and deposits itself into your hair. “Patience,” he repeats, swirling his fingers over your clit, his mouth moving in tandem with the twist of his wrist. He peppers love and affection in the form of kisses, presses devotion with the edge of his teeth, soothes all your nerves with a sweep of his tongue.

“Kook,” you sigh, already well on your way to being a boneless mess. There’s tingling in your toes, fizzing in your stomach, butterflies in your chest. A whirlwind of emotion and sensation that he stirs to life effortlessly.

“Relax for me.” You do so because it’s easy, because he’s so devastatingly good to you.

The figure eights skating over your clit cease, fingers dropping further down to nestle against your cunt. He pauses there, almost experimentally flexing against the muscle that aches and clenches around nothing, eager for more. You think he’s smirking by the way his lips form with his kisses, a little lopsided and devilish. (You wish you could see him.)

A single digit enters you then, to the third knuckle as if your body was made for this, for him. (It was.) He coos against your neck when a garbled mess skips off your tongue and nearly laughs when another slips in alongside it, turning the mess into nonsense. Despite how badly you want it - need it, really - it’s a sensation that’s too much and not enough all at once, toeing the line between pleasure and pain.

It was how Jungkook loved you - recklessly, shamelessly, in no half measures. With more love than you could ever hope for, giving you things you didn’t even know how to ask for.

“Relax, angel,” comes as he begins scissoring both fingers inside you, stretching you out with an otherworldly amount of care. Even your neglected clit is given some sort of relief - anything to ease the sting of two long fingers - his thumb gliding over it with each stretch of your walls. He knows exactly where to touch you, how much pressure to apply, and you’re melting, lost in the feeling.

When he’s had enough and he curls his fingers within you, seeking out that particular spot, you’re trembling, caught off guard. Heat builds quickly with the precision of which he taps against that spot; it starts low in your back, climbing each vertebrae of your spine until you’re quivering in his arms.

“K-Kook.” It’s both a plea and a demand, nonsensical as he guides you through your orgasm, keeping you upright against him when your knees feel like they might give out.

“I’ve got you.” And he does - hook, line, and sinker. He holds you steady as the pleasure crashes over your head, keeps you anchored to the here and now and the pleasure that rolls through you like a relentless wave. It sinks beneath your skin, settles heavy into every atom, and he never lets you go. He’s got you.

When sensation returns - slowly, so slowly it feels like you’re stuck in the Twilight Zone - you only want to turn. See him, hold him, whisper sweet nothings as you kiss him silly and thank him for his service. Instead, you’re held in place, two hands firm upon your hips even as you crane your neck to look over your shoulder at him. You should recognise the look on his face. “Kook?”

“My turn.” It’s a statement more than anything, a kind heads-up as he nudges you forward. There’s that same twinkle in his eye, the only source of light around the pupil that’s blown out, otherwise engulfing the constellations he so normally offers you. It’s a black hole and one you’d gladly get lost in. “Hands on the wall, baby.”

You’d never been one for shower sex - it’s too small a space, too much happening at once, a guaranteed freak accident waiting to happen - but you can’t deny him when he asks so nicely. (It really hadn’t been that nice but you were a certified sucker for one Jeon Jungkook.)

Hands find themselves on the wall, palms flat, fingers splayed. In the same instance you wiggle your hips, there’s a ghosting touch over your spine. It trails up and down, soothes the residual heat that lingers, and then slips higher, palm gentle over your throat. His thumb rubs reassuring circles over the nape of your neck, pressing gently into the sensitive spot behind your ear. It’s distracting and you realise much needed when he sinks into you with one fluid press of his hips, filling you so full you can’t help the gasp that bounds past your lips and bounces around the glass enclosure. “Oh fuck,” he sighs, his grip on your hip tightening incrementally.

He sounds like sin and feels like heaven.

“Always so good for me.” Another thing he says, often and without prompting. It still feels just as good the umpteenth time, sparking pride deep in your chest as he pulls out and drives himself back in, staring in rapt fascination at where your bodies meet. “Always so perfect for me.”

“Because I love you,” you quip, more than a little out of breath and jostled by the way he thrusts into you, measured and with enough force to shake your legs.

“Love you too, angel.” He doesn’t need to say it back - you know, can feel it by how he holds you, drives you to brink of insanity with his cock - but he does it anyway. He always says it back, no matter what, even if he’s half-asleep or distracted. He’ll never stop saying it.

The hand on your hip falls, slinks across your hip and between your legs, and you’re pushed further forward, his feet gently kicking yours further apart. Jungkook assaults your clit then, timing each pass with each thrust. An attempted glance back has fireworks going off before your eyes, specks of pleasure lighting up your vision; it’s a technicolour lightshow, framing the way his face scrunches, brow set and jaw hard. He’s determined, focused on bringing you to another orgasm before he hits his own high. You assist him as best you can, swiveling your hips and grinding back against him even as the coil pulls impossibly tight in your stomach, barely held together by threadbare strings.

“Kook,” you whine when the tension becomes too much, hands scrabbling across the wall of the shower. The same overwhelming tingle sparks beneath your skin, entire body trembling like a leaf when the head of his cock brushes that spot inside you at just the right angle.

He doesn’t relent, rhythm turning almost punishing as he drives you over the edge, launching you headlong into your second orgasm. You’re not sure how you stay upright, near sobbing when you crash into euphoric bliss, neither his fingers nor his thrusts ceasing. It’s almost too much and yet you know how close he is, so you push back, whimper words you know he wants to hear.

“P-please, Kook. Please.” You’re reaching a hand back, desperate to interlace your fingers with his. He gives in easily, catches your hand in his own and plants it on the swell of your hip as he chases his own release with desperation. “Come for me, Kook. Fill me up.”

Jungkook does just that, balls tight as he spills himself inside you, hand at your throat so tight you’re seeing stars. Somehow - with the feeling of him grinding into you, overcome with so much sensitivity - you come for the third time, crying very real tears as the sensation washes over you. It’s weaker than your first two but unravels you all the same, seeping the energy from your limbs. You’re grateful for how well he knows you and the fact he catches you before your arms collapse, pulling you to him with gentle movements.

“I love you,” he whispers against your temple, out of breath and sweat-slick despite the water that rains down upon you.

“I love you,” you answer, pressing a kiss to the hand that still twines with yours. “But I still need you to wash my hair.” It’s cheeky and you know it so you don’t even mind when he bites into the meat of your shoulder, leaving a pretty red mark that’ll bloom for the next few days. “Ow!”

“You’re a brat.” Said even as he’s reaching for your shampoo bar, teasing it through your roots with practiced movements. He’s careful despite his scathing tone, gentle despite how he glares at you from the corner of your periphery. Each tangle is neatly undone and not a single bubble gets in your eye, much to your joy.

“I thought I was an angel.” You’re taking a page out of his book, speaking in fluent pout.

He catches your lips with his own, pushing your lathered up head beneath the steady stream when he withdraws and speaks. Suds run across your cheeks, eyes shielded only by the hand he keeps steady along your hairline. Even so mean, your boyfriend is still terribly nice. “You’re my angel - but you’re still a brat.”

You can’t argue with that.

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi

672 notes · View notes

puppetsoftomorrow · 3 years

Text

the avalance news reader au

hey who said peer pressure doesn't work. anyway i made this post and y'all seemed to like it so here we go!! might post to ao3 later on idk...

It had been a truly terrible day.

Ava considered, in the moment that her coffee machine spluttered coughed up coffee grounds over her last clean shirt, that maybe she'd just had a truly terrible year. All her dreams about finally moving to television after being stuck in the doldrums of local news media for six years had been slashed when she'd been placed on the graveyard shift - sure, Ava was finally reading the news, but her shift was from 1AM until 4AM, so her only audience was long-distance truck drivers and new parents.

Still, she persevered, with the slightly foolish belief that if she worked hard enough, she could be promoted to a primetime slot. Or at least a slot that didn't require her to be making coffee at 10:45PM.

Her day had started off badly - she'd barely slept, as the sound from the construction work three blocks away rattled her windows, and she’d woken to find that her cat, Merlin, had kicked his litter halfway across the house in a fit of pique. Ava couldn't even have her normal oatmeal, as she was out of oat milk, and now she was having to drink her coffee black.

After changing her shirt to a dark dress and grimacing as she choked down the coffee, there was a knock on the door, and Ava groaned as she realised she was running late.

"Hey, Sara." She sighed.

Sara stood in the doorway, hair wavy over her shoulders, hands shoved in the pockets of her hoodie - the same grey hoodie she wore every day, branded with their news station's logo.

"Woah, a dress?" Sara said, eyebrows raised appreciatively, as Ava grabbed her coat and bag and they moved to go down the stairs.

"Don't mention it." Ava grumbled, pulling the coat around her shoulders.

"It looks good on you." Sara said, and Ava shot her a look. Sara mimed zipping her lips. "Do we have to time for Starbucks? I had to have black coffee; my mouth tastes like something died in it." Ava muttered, and Sara shrugged.

"I mean, we've arrived half an hour early for every shift for the past year -"

"Do you want to go back to taking the bus?" Ava said, looking over at her as they reached the lobby. They'd discovered they lived in the same building almost accidentally in Ava's first week, awkwardly meeting across the hall in the early morning, until Sara had realised that Ava had a car and they'd started riding in together.

"Fine, if you're happy with having bad angles." Sara said, holding the door open for her, and Ava rolled her eyes.

"Are you saying I have bad angles?"

"Oh, I'll find one." Sara muttered, and Ava snorted with laughter and unlocked the car. One of the benefits to giving her camera operator a ride every day was always having excellent angles.

After a stop at Starbucks, Ava rolled along the dark, quiet roads, sighing deeply.

"What's up?" Sara asked, sipping her drink - black coffee, which she somehow enjoyed.

"Nothing." Ava muttered, but it only took one look at Sara for her to come out with the story of her crappy day. Sara laughed.

"So that's why you're wearing the dress."

"That's what you're focusing on?" Ava said, focusing on the road with a small smile on her face. "I have to go back to my apartment at 5AM and clean up kitty litter and coffee grounds."

"Not to mention getting coffee out of your shirt." Sara snorted, and Ava groaned, loud and over the top.

///

They always split when they got to the studio, Ava marching off to make-up to get ready, and Sara taking the elevator to the studio floor to set up her camera. The studio was always dead past midnight, just a skeleton crew left, which Sara found she enjoyed - it was easier to know everyone that way. She waved at Nate, distracting him from where he was running through the weather, muttering under his breath and checking his perfectly coiffed hair in the camera. He waved back, a bright smile on his face.

Careful not to trip over any of the wires on the floor, Sara made her way up to the box above the studio, the cramped room filled from head to toe with blinking lights and buttons, with a large window so they could look down on the studio. The techs – Behrad and Charlie - were sat with headphones on, running through sound checks, so Sara just waved to them as she found who she was looking for.

Zari, the studio runner, was running through her clipboard, muttering under her breath. When she saw Sara coming, she rolled her eyes. "Back again?"

"What have you got for her today?" Sara asked, keeping her voice nonchalant.

"The usual. Some city councilor has been embezzling funds, Star City is readying to bid for the 2028 Olympics, and former mayor Queen is opening a patisserie down-town. It's been a quiet week."

"Exactly." Sara said, her grin widening. "You've got to add the cat one."

Ray, their head writer, had found a story a week ago about a fat cat attending the Star City pet spa to lose weight, and Sara had been tracking down clips of the poor thing, bribing the editor, Nora, to pull them together. She'd even written a script. Zari looked at her with an eyebrow raised.

"Seriously?"

"Yes! I have a bet going with Mick - if I can get Ava to break on camera by the end of the month, he's got to give me $50." Sara said. It was ridiculous, she'd started the bet - truthfully, she found it endearing how Ava read the news with the same abject sternness whether she was covering a political scandal or a dog who'd learnt to surf in Star City Bay. She'd only broken her composure once - a smile creeping on her face when reporting on the 5th birthday of a crocodile at Star City Zoo named Snaps. From that day on, Sara had vowed to make her laugh, properly, live on air.

"I don't have any time to make up." Zari said, and Sara sighed.

"Yeah, but you know Ava reads quick enough. Please? For me?"

Zari seemed immune to the puppy eyes, so Sara sighed. "And I'll give you $20."

Zari snorted. "Do you have $20?"

"I'll have $50 when I win the bet." Sara countered, and Zari sighed.

"Fine. I'll see what I can do."

"Z, you're the best." Sara said with a grin, and turned to return to the studio floor.

///

The program went smoothly, like always. Sara liked her job, the focus of filming and the pride she got when she saw her own work on TV, but she liked it better when she was filming Ava, who had pretty much insisted from day one that Sara be her primary operator.

Ava looked especially pretty today, someone in make-up evidently having convinced her that she didn't need the bun today, and instead curled her hair over both shoulders, which didn't completely cover Ava's defined arms, visible in her sleeveless dress.

The night ran the same as most others, Ava transitioning smoothly between topics and engaging in light, courteous banter with Nate before he presented the weather. Sara looked at Ava during these moments, the five minutes she was off camera, where she looked down at her notes, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

Okay, so maybe Sara wanted to make Ava laugh because she looked so pretty doing it. Sue her.

They were coming near the end, and Sara was losing hope that the story would be included, until she heard the segue.

"Now, in lighter news," Ava started, her eyebrows suddenly shooting up as she read the prompter. Sara grinned; Zari had obviously left this out of Ava's notes to inspire more of a reaction.

"Cats," Ava blurted out, steadying herself before continuing, "they're not normally known for their love of swimming, but one feline in Star City is hitting the water instead of the gym in a bid to lose weight. Mr. Snuggles -" Ava bit her lip as the pictures played on the monitor - a black and white cat in a life vest, looking absolutely terrified, and Sara grinned. "Mr. Snuggles is a thirteen-year-old cat who - dislikes the outdoors and other physical activities."

Sara's grin widened as Ava lost it, barely making it through her lines through her giggles. Her face was flushing pink and she bit her lip to try and compose herself. "But with encouragement from his owner -" Ava pressed on, trying to hold herself together, "Mr. Snuggles had lost one pound in six months."

That was the final straw, as Ava descended into a full-on laugh, barely making it through her sign off. Sara was so distracted by the sound she nearly missed Zari's voice in her ear. "Camera 1 to Camera 3 in 3, 2, 1 -"

Sara switched off, but not before Ava snorted, flushing even deeper and covering her face with her hands at the sound, not disguised by the jingle from the lottery numbers playing across the screen.

///

Ava had bolted from the set, and Sara packed up her equipment as quickly as possible, ducking out just in time to catch Ava as she walked down the corridor to the lobby. Her face was now free of make-up, her hair tied up in a messy bun, but she was still in the dress that left Sara's mouth a little dry. She looked at Sara, blushing again.

"I can't believe you did that." She groaned, and Sara put on her most innocent face on.

"Did what?"

"Bribed Zari to put the cat story in! John in make-up said that Charlie had told him that you'd bribed Zari."

"To win $50!" Sara said, grinning. "And you have a really cute laugh."

Ava looked up; eyebrow furrowed. "Really?"

"Yep." Sara said, trying to play it cool. "Look, do you want half? I feel bad now."

Ava sighed. "No, it's okay."

"I could buy you dinner." Sara said, almost blurting it out, and Ava looked at her. "To make up for it."

Ava's mouth quirked up in a smile. "Uh - yeah, okay. I can do dinner."

~the end~

okay so this was fun to write and i kind of want to write more so uhh send me where u think this story should go. or ideas for a part 2 maybe. thanks for reading!!

#phoebe lifeblogs #avalance #legends of tomorrow #my writing #this is almost Too cute lmao

50 notes · View notes

trashyswitch · 3 years

Text

The Auction

Nico is running an auction to see who might buy some animatronics. Sure enough, tons of people come! Especially parents with kids!

For everyone featured in the fanfic!

I hope you all enjoy!

“Patton: The fatherly animatronic. He can make ice cream, he can run with the kids! He’s been programmed to hug and develop friendships with all children. He can teach good life lessons! And he can even make balloon creatures for them.” Nico explained.

“And...Roman?” The person asked.

“Aah, yes. Roman is a fighter. He’s a stage actor with a love for being the hero! And his sketchy brother, with the iron mace. They are not sold separately.” Nico told them.

“Interesting...How much is Patton on for?” The person asked.

“$5000.” He replied.

“Hm...Not bad.” The person looked at Patton curiously and smiled. “Does he have any flaws?” The man asked.

“There have been instances of following the kids home till he shuts down...And there have been moments when he hugs too hard. But other than that, he’s in really good shape.” Nico told him.

The guy smiled and placed a hand onto Patton’s cheek. Suddenly, Patton closed his eyes. “Awww…”

The man gasped and pulled his hand away. “Oh god he’s on?!”

Nico giggled. “He is on, sir.”

Patton looked at the guy and smiled. “I’m Patton! You can call me Pat if you want.” Patton explained.

“Yes. He also goes by Pat if that’s easier. He’ll even scan mispronounciations of his name and react to those as well.” Nico explained. “An example of this is ‘Pabbin.”

“Yes?” Patton turned his head to Nico.

“See?” Nico smiled, patting his shoulder. “He’s a good one.”

Patton giggled and hugged Nico eagerly.

Patton let Nico go and looked at the other person there. “And what’s your name?” Patton asked the person.

“I’m Violet.” They introduced.

“Ooooh! Like purple!” Patton declared, clapping his hands and jumping up and down.

“Yeah, like purple. I like green too.” Violet told him.

Patton gasped and turned to Remus. “Ooooh REEEMUUUUS!”

Violet widened their eyes. No way…

“Violet likes green!” Patton declared.

Remus looked down at his own clothes and fist pumped the air. “YESSSS!”

Violet giggled at this reaction.

“Wise competition for the GREEEEEN!” Remus said, running up to the two of them with his mace in hand.

“Is this real?” Violet asked Remus.

Remus ripped it from her hands. “Yes! And no touchy!” Remus ordered.

“Remus, be nice! Or else you’re not gonna get sold.” Nico ordered.

“Have you ever considered that maybe I don’t wanna be sold to a stranger?” Remus asked.

Patton walked around the auction, looking around for the kids. Suddenly, one of the kids ran up to the animatronic!

“Awww! Hello little girl! And what’s your name?” Patton asked.

“Ashy!” She replied.

“Ashy, huh? Like Ashy, dashy flashy?” Patton teased.

Ashy giggled into her hand.

“My name is Patton!” The animatronic told her. “Say, are you ticklish by any chance?” Patton asked.

“Noooo!” She giggled.

“Noooo? Are you sure about that?” Patton teased before poking her sides and belly.

Ashy giggled and laughed as she backed up little by little. “Nohohohoho! Pahahahahat!” Ashy told him.

“Oh, alright.” Patton stopped tickling her and started to stand up. But Patton froze in place the moment someone hugged his leg. Looking down, Patton realized it was Ashy trying to tell him something. “Ihihi didn’t want you to stop…” She admitted.

“Patton smiled widely and picked up the little girl. “Well if that’s the case:” Patton started throwing her up into the air and catching her. After the third catch, Patton started tickling her sides, and ribs. “Tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle!”

Ashy was laughing, snorting and giggling all over the place as she sat in his arms.

Nico was about to intervene, when someone stopped him. “It’s alright. She really likes it.” She told him.

Nico let out a breath of relief. Thank goodness…

Patton soon stopped tickling her and hugged her tightly before giving her a gentle squeeze.

“Yay! Mommy, mommy, can we keep him?” Ashy asked as she was put down.

“Maybe, sweetheart…He’s kinda expensive.” The mom admitted.

“I don’t know hunny…$5000 for an animatronic big forever babysitter is not bad.” her father admitted. “My headphones were crappy and were sold for $300.” He explained.

Patton looked around the auction room at all the tables and posters everywhere. It was so decorated and pretty!

A guy walked up to the broken yellow and grey animatronic. “What does this do?” The person asked.

“Ah, that’s Janus: a...dangerous animatronic, to be honest. He was scrapped after he allowed kids to use knives and matches.” The doctor told him.

“Cooool…” He reacted, grabbing the animatronic. “I like it! How much?”

2500. He’s not nearly as expensive because he’s fairly broken. But if you wanna use him for spare parts-”

“I’m not using him for spare anything.” Alex grabbed his own hat and replaced the wrecked black hat on the animatronic’s head. “I’m gonna fix him up.” Alex told him with a smirk.

Nico walked away before he could get caught up in Alex’s questionable shenanigans.

Roman growled and pushed a person’s hand away.

“This animatronic is threatening…” The person said.

“Yeah...No touching me.” Roman ordered. “Only Nico can touch.”

“Now now, Roman...that’s not how you get buyers.” Nico told him.

“Why don’t you wanna keep us?” Roman asked. “Are we not good enough for you? Or, perhaps too much for you?” Roman asked.

“We’re giving you to actual owners who will wanna keep you for other jobs. See it as adoption.” Nico told him.

“Except I’m being sold for $4000. Why is Patton more expensive than me?”

“Because you’re a little more dangerous than Patton is. And because everyone has been flocking to Patton.” Nico explained.

Roman huffed and looked down.

“I like this one. He’s sassy.” the same person admitted from earlier.

“I do too.” Another person admitted.

“Can I have your names please?” Nico asked.

“Shannon.” The first person said.

“Sayge.” The other person said.

“Alright. I’m putting your names into the hat.” Nico told them, placing two names in.

“Alright.” Shannon told him.

“What does this one do?” Sayge asked.

“He’s a fighter. But he likes other things like costumes. He’s a theatre animatronic.” Nico explained.

“Are they meant to have personalities?”’ Shannon asked.

“Well…”

“Excuse me?!” Roman reacted.

“YES...He was.” Nico replied. “We are quite surprised at how strongly the personalities effect the animatronics, however.” Nico added.

“I see…” Shannon responded.

“Do you have spare swords?” Sayge asked.

“Yes we do.” Nico got Sayge a sword. “What for?”

Sayge ran up to Roman and started dueling with him. “EN GARDE, ROMAN!”

“EN GARDE!” Roman yelled back, perrying the sword.

Shannon giggled at this while Nico sighed in slight annoyance. Of all the things to start during the auction…

Soon, people started flocking up to the human and the animatronic, and started watching with curiosity and excitement. It didn’t take long before people split themselves into separate cheerers. Some of them cheered for Roman, others cheered for ‘Roman’s Foe’.

Roman smiled and winked at Nico before spinning the other sword out of Sayge’s hand. Sayge jumped and put his hands up as Roman pointed his sword to him. “Give up, mortal.”

Sayge, feeling there was no other way out, grabbed onto the sword and pulled it out of his hand. Funnily enough, the sword slid right out of Roman’s grip! It was like he had no grip at all! “How about now?”

Roman widened his eyes and put his hands up. “Okay okay, I give up! I give up! Mercy, oh powerful one! Mercy!” Roman begged.

“Alright.” Sayge smiled and started to bow as cheers filled the room.

Shannon widened her eyes. “Saaaay...this gives me some ideas:” Shannon turned to Nico. “I am a costume designer, and I would like to use Roman as my costume dummy.”

Roman turned to her with his jaw dropped. “DUMMY?! WHO ARE yU CALLING DUMMY?!”

Shannon jumped and put her hands up. “I mean tester! My costume wearer! Or mannequin!” Shannon explained.

“Oh...Continue.” Roman told her.

“Okay…” Shannon hummed and looked back to Nico and Roman. “I would like to take Roman to be my mannequin for my business.” She explained. “Now, is Roman able to be gender neutral in any way?” Shannon asked.

“You can say that, yes. I can give him a more round chin and a different shaped nose, if you prefer.” Nico offered.

“Cause I would like to put dresses onto Roman as well.” Shannon explained.

“DRESSES?!” Roman gasped and clapped his hands. “HECK YES YOU CAN PUT A DRESS ON MY GORGEOUS BODY!” Roman made a sexy pose.

Shannon giggled. “Good! I’ll happily adopt Roman then.” Shannon told Nico.

“Wonderful!”

“HA! I got adopted before Patton!” Roman declared, as if being bought was a challenge. “Take that!”

Shannon handed over the money and started to explain to Roman all that she had planned for the next coming weeks for costumes and acting roles.

Meanwhile, a guy was looking at Logan and quizzing him. “How tall am I?” Andrew asked.

Logan looked at Andrew, looked him up and down and smiled. “You are 164 centimeters, or 5ft 4 inches.” Logan replied.

“Wow! And what is 150 x 38?” Andrew asked.

Logan smiled and turned his head a bit. “5700.”

Andrew grabbed out his calculator, and checked the answer. Sure enough, he was right. “That’s amazing!”

“Logan was a creation made to counteract the manipulative Janus. He knows plenty of facts, can educate many, and has never told a lie.” Nico told Andrew.

“Would you ever consider making Logan a teacher?” Andrew asked.

Nico widened his eyes. “I never thought of that!”

Logan turned to Andrew. “Can you make me a teacher?” Logan asked, sounding unusually eager.

“I can...It’ll take some steps, but it’s worth the try.” Andrew replied. “I think you would make a great teacher. Or a great professor!” Andrew told him.

Logan smiled at the thought.

Andrew soon walked over to the guy working in the back, listening to headphones. “Hey.” Andrew greeted.

The guy removed his earbuds. “Hi, how can I help you?” Virgil asked.

“Oh nothing. Nothing. What are you listening to?” Andrew asked.

“Wanna listen?” he asked.

“Sure!” Andrew replied.

Virgil and Andrew would be seen listening to music through the rest of the auction together. They would even wind up exchanging phone numbers so they could stay connected with each other! Talk about a match made in emo heaven!

Meanwhile, Patton was showing off his hairstyling skills to a lady with long, wavy hair. “And that’s how you do a big bow out of your hair!” Patton told them, showing her the hair-made bow with a mirror.

The girl smiled proudly and showed it off. “You did amazing!” The girl told him.

“Thank you Mela!” Patton replied. “Thanks for being my hair mannequin!” Patton told her.

“No problem!” Mela replied.

Suddenly, an army of kids came sprinting to Patton, knocking him over. “PAAAATTOOOON!” They shouted!

“Ohohoho myhyhyhy gohohoodnehehess! WOHOHOW!” Patton reacted.

“Really, Fizzy?” Mela asked, referring to one of the kids.

“YES!” Fizz replied. “Is Patton ticklish?” Fizz quickly asked as they clicked a few buttons.

Patton giggled and squirmed a bit, but widened his eyes as he felt his sensitivity increasing more and more! What in the world-

“Hey! Get off him! Be careful what you’re clicking!” Nico ordered.

“There’s arrows for sensitivity! Uuuup-” The kid kept clicking the up arrow, throwing Patton into laughter and hysterics. At first it felt like nothing. But now it felt like every hair and material on the kids’ skins and clothes were tickling every inch of his body! Patton quickly fell into hysterics.

“Aaaaaand doooowwwn!” The kid said, clicking the arrow button only a couple times. “But we all want Patty’s sensitivity UUUP!” They said happily.

Patton laughed and giggled hysterically as he was tickled and doggy piled by kids. “GUHUHUHUHUYS! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!” Patton begged.

“Off off off off off.” Nico ordered. “I will not have Patton get broken by a bunch of evil kids.”

“EEEVIL?!” Fizz smirked and casually walked away. As Nico started walking away, Fizz grabbed his foot and pulled, making Nico faceplant the ground! Nico squealed and yelled loudly for the kid to let go while Fizz whistled innocently and tickled his foot.

“AAAEEEEEEHEHEHEHEHEHE! KIHIHIHID WAHAHAHAHAIT!”

“Yeah! Cheer up old man!” Fizz teased.

“Tickle Patton!” a kid declared.

“Lee Patton!” Ashlee declared, having joined the group.

“Senit ivee’tee!” a toddler said.

Patton and Nico both bursted out laughing as kids started piling on the robot and the human, and started tickling, tickling, tickling! It was probably really embarrassing for Nico’s case. But for Patton, this was all part of the job. Kids just loved being silly and playful! And he was created perfectly for the kiddies!

Roman got a recording of the whole thing, and sent it to Virgil through text.

[How much you wanna bet Patton’s gonna be sold?]

Virgil looked down at his phone and chuckled while he texted back:

[I bet $10 bucks one of the kids parents buys them.]

...Sure enough, a daycare lady ended up purchasing Patton as a fellow worker at a local daycare! With a little bit of fixing, Patton was gonna be the greatest entertainer!

Sorry Ro!

#sanders sides & fnaf crossover #robot patton #robot logan #robot roman #robot janus #robot remus #roman and remus are twins

27 notes · View notes