#//-drops this then goes off to stream whoops-

[reflective-muses]

kaveh headcanon/drabble

thoughts on love

Love comes in many forms. Kaveh's family is kept close to his heart, and although they don't keep in touch, his mother is still an important person in his life. She certainly isn't perfect, but given the circumstances he believes she did the best she could raising him. His father had, of course, been important, too. The loss still hurts, some days more than others. Time helps heal the wounds of grief, but the heart is forever left marred with a scar.

He truly cherishes the friendships he has, a found family that he now holds closer than his blood one. There is no friendship decay, with the exception of perhaps one or two instances. But, even then the foundation is still there, strong enough to be rebuilt upon after clearing the rubble. Rebuilding what had crumbled to pieces is hard, but certainly not impossible. He knows this firsthand.

Romantic love is different. It carries with it a weight, passion, longing.

When Kaveh loves, it is wholly and deeply. A yearning to love and be loved, unconditionally.

Kaveh isn't sure he truly deserves that, though. Wanting something doesn't mean you deserve it, after all. His own self deprecation is there to make him question these kinds of things. He's aware it's probably all in his head, but the mind can be a troublesome thing--your own worst enemy at times.

Love also brings along with it fear. The fear of loss, the fear of rejection. The deeper someone loves the deeper the wounds it leaves when it is lost. If one doesn't love then there's no risk of loss, right? You can't lose something you never had. Perhaps it's easier on the heart that way. But, is that really true? Is denying yourself something, or rather, someone you want--yearn for, long for, pine for, dream about--really a solution?

There is a saying: "It is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all."

Maybe that's true.

Love is... complicated, complex and strong, so strong. It's overwhelming and beautiful, even at its ugliest.

It's not logical, it doesn't have to make sense, there's no blueprint on how to love or deal with love (or the loss of it). Perhaps that's why it's so hard to understand.

[coastalcowgirl35]

Scared- Tyler Owens x Reader

He knows he scared you and come running home to show you he’s okay.

Note-probably unrealistic, I did not fact check. I also didn’t spell check. please enjoy!

TW: slight mention of blood/injury

You always watch his livestreams, no matter how much it scares you to see him in danger, it’s ten times better than not knowing. So tonight, as usual, you throw on one of his shirts and sit in your shared bed watching the live on your laptop. You’re particularly nervous for him tonight because it’s been a while since he chased in the dark, but you know you have to trust him.

It’s going well, he seems to be having the time of his life out there, whooping and hollering as he and Boone blare music. The first sign that something is wrong comes from Lilly. She’s in the van, her feed is up in the corner and your eyes flit to her when you see her throw herself to the side, evidently swerving off the road.

“Holy Hell, that’s a whole fucking tree!” Comes her voice, your heart drops. You see Tyler’s smile flicker and he looks out the window nervously.

“You alright back there?” He asks, eyes focusing on the camera briefly.

“Are you?” Lilly responds. “Winds really picking up!”

“Naw we got it” Your boyfriend replies confidently. From Boone’s camera’s perspective you can see the cyclone approaching them, barely visible in the dark. You see Tyler flip a switch.

“Alrighty, she’s coming straight for us!” He croons. “We’re anchored and ready for ‘er!”

It’s then that something hits the windshield. You see it from Boone’s camera which is then dropped, showing only the floor while the other is knocked out of place its footage going completely dark. You can hear the roar of the wind filling their truck and Boone and Tyler yelling out curses.

“We gotta fucking go!” One of them shouts.

Lily look scared on screen, truly terrified for the first time since you met her. She says something to Dexter in the seat next to her then reaches up towards the camera. She grabs it and the live goes dead.

You sit there in bed, heart pounding, hands shaking. You realize that you are crying. You can’t move. Tyler. Your mind repeats his name. Tyler. Tyler. Tyler.

After what feels like an eternity you finally move, reaching for your phone. You call him. It goes to voicemail. Tyler. Tyler. Tyler

You call him again and again, getting nothing but voicemail each time. You’re shaking and sobbing as you press his number over and over and over again. You can’t breathe. You can’t think anything but his name.

At some point a little voice in your mind begins to whisper that you should stop. But you can’t. You watch as the number of missed calls grows. 43. 57, 61. Your phone flashes the 20 % battery warning and it’s only then that you stop, not want to risk draining your battery and missing a call back. A call from anyone on the crew. Even a text.

You have no concept of time. You just sit there, tears streaming down your face, feeling utterly and completely useless.

It nearly 2 in the morning now. You can't do anything but cry. Your phone sits on the bed next to you, it doesn't light up and refuses to ring no matter how long you stare at it, willing Tylers name to flash across the screen. You're shaking and can't think straight, but what else can you really do?

You jump when you hear the door opens downstairs.

"Y/N/N?" calls a familiar voice. You scramble out of bed.

"Ty? Ty is that you?" You hurry down the stair and towards the front entryway. It's him. He stands there on the front mat, fully intact except for some bleeding cuts on his face. "Holy shit, Tyler" You practically launch yourself into his arms.

"Hey baby, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He wraps his arms around you as you cry in relief against his chest. "My phone died, I'm so sorry."

"You scared me." You sob.

"I know, honey, I know." He kisses the top of your head gently. You step back slightly and look up at him, putting your hands on either side of his face, examining how cut up it is.

"Fuck Ty, what happened?" You ask.

"...The windshield broke" He admits hesitantly. "Oh my god" You breathe out. "Is everyone else okay?" he nods.

You kiss him gently "Thank God. Oh Tyler, baby, I love you so much." You murmur against his lips.

"I love you too Y/N" He whispers peppering you with kisses. "God I love you." Hey pulls away slightly after a moment. "I gotta take my boots off hun." You step back and let him pull off his boots, tossing them onto the shoe tray. He sighs tiredly and tuns a hand through his hair.

"Come on Tyler, let's go upstairs and get you cleaned up." You say gently. He follows you back upstairs and into the master bathroom. You take rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, antiseptic and some bandaids out and hop up onto the counter. You dampen the cotton balls with the alcohol and beckon him closer until he's standing between your legs.

You reach up and gently wipe his cuts with the cotton ball. He winces but doesn't pull back, instead placing a hand on your thigh. Once you're satisfied with the cleanliness of the cuts you apply some antiseptic but he grabs your wrist when you reach for a bandaid.

"I don't need that darlin'' He says.

"You sure?" You ask hesitantly. He nods.

"All I need is to hold my girl" He says as he wraps his arms around you.

"Yeah?" You ask melting at his sweet words.

"Feeling better already" He affirms kissing the top of your head.

"Okay but first you need to change cowboy." You tell him, punctuating your statement with a kiss. He groans but releases you and steps back, letting you slide off the counter. As he changes into a fresh t-shirt and boxers you move your laptop and cell phone off of the bed. You turn to him when he steps out of the bathroom.

"Do you need something to eat Ty?" You ask. He shakes his head, and wraps his arms around you once again. "Water?" He chuckles and shakes his head again as he walks you backwards towards the bed.

"You need to stop fussing baby. Let's just get to bed." He lifts you and lays you onto the mattress before pulling the covers over the both of you.

You curl up next him, resting your head on his chest. The anxious weight in your chest finally melts away as you listen to his soft breathing and feel his fingers tracing patterns on your arm.

"I love you Tyler" You murmur.

"I love you too baby" He says, kissing your forehead.

"Don't ever do that to me again." You say seriously.

"I won't" Tyler promises, wrapping his strong arms around you. You fall asleep feeling safe and relaxed in his warm embrace.

[modelbus]

Could I request a Singer!Reader x Tommyinnit fic with the song ‘So American’ by Olivia Rodrigo? I think it would be cute if tommy bragged about reader on stream and she wrote songs about him <3

I assume you wanted a song fic, and if not… too late… whoops…

Pairing: Cc!Tommyinnit x Fem!Reader

So American

Drivin’ on the right-side road He says I’m pretty wearin’ his clothes

Tommy’s eyes are on the window, looking vaguely surprised every time that the Uber takes a turn and reaffirms that, yes, he is meant to be driving on the right side of the road. It was something he jokingly called “barbaric” when he first visited your parents with you, but now he simply gives you a disgusted look to confirm that his beliefs on it hasn't changed. 

His arm is over your shoulders, playing with a loose thread on your sweater. Technically, it’s his sweater, but you claimed it as your own this morning. You claim most of his clothes as your own, actually. You liked wearing his baggy sweaters, he liked seeing you in them. Your fans go wild for it.

A fair trade, in your opinion.

His clothes were softer than yours for some reason, and they smelled like him. Plus, he had about a gazillion sweaters. He could definitely afford to spare some for you.

“The fuck is that?” Tommy asks, squinting at someone in a chicken costume dancing on the roadside with a sign. “Are they a fucking chicken?”

“It’s advertising.” You explain, laughing at the look on his face.

“Take a photo, take a photo.” He directs you, barely waiting for you to get your phone out before he snatches it to take a photo while the Uber drives by. Then he flips the camera to take a selfie of you two, making a horrified look for the photo. You mimic his expression. “There, send it later, I’ll post it.” 

“Got it.” You take your phone back, zooming in on the photo of you two to see how you look in it. Your hair’s a little messy, but that's to be expected. It’s a long Uber ride, after all.

“You look pretty as always, stop inspecting the photo.” Tommy grins at you, yawning after.

“Yeah yeah.” Clicking your phone off, you drop your head onto his shoulder. “Whatever you say, Tom.”

“Damn right, whatever I say.”

And he laughs at all my jokes And he says I'm so American Oh, God, it's just not fair of him To make me feel this much

“This mod adds alligators to Minecraft.” Tommy says, showing you it.

He’s trying to find a collection of mods for a new modded Minecraft video, but he’s run through most of the good working ones. And he wasn’t receptive to downloading a virus for a video on the bad mods.

“What do you call an alligator in a vest?” You ask, looking back down at your phone. “An investigator.”

He stares at you. After a moment of silence, he snorts. “That was so shit. Never make a joke like that ever again.”

“You still laughed.”

“But it wasn’t funny.” He stresses. “It was a pity laugh. Your joke was pitiful.”

“So you say, but you laugh every fucking time.” You smile brightly at him: he can’t help but smile back.

“There aren’t even any fuckin’ alligators in England, man. You’re so American!” Tommy nudges you with his elbow, going back to scrolling through mods.

So American. A common insult, but he has a way of making it seem endearing. 

“And you’re so British.”

I'd go anywhere he goes And he says I'm so American

Tour life is exhausting. 

Traveling from place to place, staying in hotels that range from absolute shit to five stars, you start to wonder why on Earth you’re doing this. But, for all your complaints, you know Tommy is even more exhausted. After all, he’s the one performing damn near every day. And although he loves it, you know it’s draining.

So there you are. Waiting in the wings after every show, giving him a hug when he runs off stage. Enduring the same creaky hotel beds as he is, although he uses your body as a pillow while you use the hotel pillows. 

Despite it all, it’s incredible watching him shine. He’s in his element, sharing comedy and humor with the world. And every single show, he always seems awed at how many people show up.

You’re glad you get to be there to see him flourish and to support him through it. Even if you get stuck with the odd-job of trying to fit Freddy into a dog costume a few too many times for your liking. Even if Tommy drags you out onto the stage for bows despite your lack of being in the actual show and your protests.

Simply put, you’re happy to be wherever Tommy is. He inspires your songs, pages of your notebook filled with the mere idea of his stage presence.

Your fans are probably tired of it by now. You’re not.

I really love my bed, but, man, it's hard to sleep when he's with me When he's with me

“Turn the light off.” Tommy groans, face in a pillow and arm thrown over your stomach.

You glance at the light above the bed, the switch within arms reach. The hotel room is otherwise dark, matching the time of how late it is. And yet you can’t go to bed. With Tom next to you, your mind is racing, inspiration racing through your thoughts like lightning in your veins.

“I’m almost done.” You promise him, knowing you’re not. The notebook full of song lyrics and ideas is crammed full, the page you’re working on is half empty. It’ll be filled by morning.

“Bullshit.” He complains, blindly grabbing for the notebook and pen. He whacks you in the arm, making you shove him, and he finally gets his hands on your prized notebook. “Fucking thing.”

Yelping when he drops it off his side of the bed, you try to lean over him to grab it back. Instead, he acts like an octopus, throwing all his limbs around you like you’re a damn stuffed animal.

“Tom—“

“Light. Off.” He demands.

“I need my notebook—“

“Light.” He repeats slowly. “You have a recording tomorrow.”

“That doesn’t mean I need sleep.” You grumble, but reach out and flip the light off. The hotel room plunges into darkness, and Tommy makes an agreeable noise.

Within what seems like mere seconds, he’s out as easily as you had turned off the light. Exhausted from his stream earlier, no doubt. By all means, you should be exhausted too. Yet the warm body next to yours keeps you wide awake.

If you blink, or close your eyes, he might not be there in the morning. The best damn thing to ever happen to you, a British guy. You won’t lose him, or everything good he’s brought to you.

Laying your head on his arm, you stare blankly at the ceiling. Half-formed lyrics with no background music swirl around in your brain, pushing insistently at your cerebral cortex in a desperate bid to escape from being thoughts and becoming reality.

Tommy snores loudly, knocking you directly out of your thoughts. Laughing, you nudge him with your foot. He rolls, suffocating you with the way he ends up half atop you.

You’re more than happy to let him.

But ain't it love? I think I'm in love

Two steps forward, five back. Turn, flip your hair gracefully.

The metronome ticks in time with your moves, keeping count for you so you stay on time. Although you preferred the singing part of your job, you tough it out with your choreographer for dances. Besides, seeing it all come together is immensely satisfying.

“Run it through one more time girls!” Your choreographer, Elain, shouts with a clap of her hands. You scramble back to your spot, flyaway hairs already sticking to the back of your neck. Who needs a workout when you have dance?

By the time you’re finished with the last run through and take a break to chug some water, you’re dripping sweat. Attractive? No. But you worked damn hard, and it’s proof of that. All of your other dancers are sweating too, chatting between swigs of water.

You grab your phone, swiping it open to check your messages. Your manager was meant to email you about a certain venue sometime today, and you didn’t want to miss it.

But the second you open your phone, it vibrates with a call. A photo of you and Tom pops up, his name broadcasting across the screen. You smile automatically, knowing damn well he has your schedule memorized to call you during breaks.

“I thought you were streaming?” You ask, accepting it and raising it to your ear. One of your dancer wiggles her eyebrows at you, knowing exactly who it is.

“If only my man was that good to me.” Another girl jokes, laughing.

“I thought you were dancing.” Tommy snarks back on the phone. “Slacking, huh?”

“Oh, fuck off. I’d like to see you dance. Last time you broke a vase.” You lean against the wall.

“It was in a stupid place and it was fucking ugly.”

It was on a table, and it was flower-patterned.

“It was fine, Tom. You just can’t dance. Wait— I take that back. You ‘club girl’ dance.”

He gasps commercially, then starts shouting into the phone. “You bitch! I do not! I am a sexy sexy man while dancing!”

Your jerk your phone away from your ear, laughing despite the fact he probably just burst your eardrums.

“Break’s over!” Elain shouts, eyeballing you in particular. You nod at her, bringing your phone back to your ear. Luckily, Tommy’s stopped shouting.

“—Jack goddamn manifold is coming over for the stream, so I have to hide all your shit because I don’t trust him with it—“ Tommy is saying, rambling about a topic. You wish you could skip choreo to listen to him for ages, FaceTime him and watch while he talks. God, you miss him. You really should plan a visit to England again soon.

“Tom.” You cut him off. “Sorry, but I’ve got to get back to dancing.”

“Is it already—? Oh, yeah.” He sighs. “Fine, I guess I can let you leave my amazing presence. Call me after, or else.”

“Promise.” You assure him. “Love you.”

“Love you!” He echoes back enthusiastically.

You end the call, frowning down at your phone for a second. Definitely need to plan a new trip.

"Girl, stop frowning!" A dancer calls out to you, and you laugh, dropping your phone.

"Yeah yeah, I know."

You're lucky to be in love.

[liamthemailman]

New Year's Kiss?

Pre-relationship AceSoap fluff Word count : 1k (whoops)

CW : two loser gay people pining but also in denial about it, really stupid, Gaz is here too but barely, the (b)romance is real

Image stolen from pinterest

The team is currently stuck in on base, getting called back on New Year’s eve of all times. Suppose they can’t all be dismissed, Soap would grumble as he plopped himself down on the sofa, the cushions sinking and the wood creaking softly beneath him. Ace snorted at the comment as he connected the streaming service to the television, having suggested watching a movie to pass the time. It would be the most uneventful holiday the team had the misfortune of experiencing. Each hour passed by agonizingly slowly, nothing particularly happening as the rest of the base got the luxury of staying home for the countdown.

Gaz sighs, draping himself on the leather seat next to the couch. “What a pain..” He was still a little bitter that his leave extension request was denied, seeing that he was only wasting his time on base.

"Too bad your bird's back home. I can be your New Year's kiss." Soap waggles his eyebrows at Gaz, to which Gaz throws a pillow at him.

"Can it, Soap."

"Oh, relax.. it's just a suggestion." Soap laughs, putting the pillow aside.

Gaz and Ace were looking through the movie options, countering what they already watched and if it was worth a rewatch. Soap joined in soon, suggesting some timely classics to watch and commenting when the actors on the cover poster were attractive. Ace excused himself for a moment, allowing Gaz to take the remote and to argue with Soap on what movie they were going to watch.

Eventually the two finally picked a horror movie that they’ve never heard of, turning off the lights and settling back down on the couch. The lights were then shut, leaving the television to illuminate the room as the movie title flashes across the screen. Ace returns just in time, dropping himself on the couch on Soap’s right. Soap does a double take at the shorter man, taking in his attire.

“Is that my hoodie?”

“Nah, bruv.” Ace answers, sporting a hoodie a size too big to be his.

“Yeah, you bawbag, it is.” Soap leans closer to Ace, pinching the fabric between his fingers to read the text printed over the left breast. It read in bold Helvetica ‘SERGEANT JOHN M.’, a detail that Soap laughs at.

“You left it in my room last night, s’mine now.” Ace argues back as a matter-of-factly, raising his brows at Soap. The two locked eyes, as if Ace was challenging Soap to do something about it. Gaz also cocks an eyebrow as he side eyed the two, watching from the sidelines.

“Movie’s starting, guys.” Gaz says, trying his best to keep his patience, and frankly, his sanity as the two finally behaved themselves. Soap drapes his arms along the backrest of the couch, letting Ace use his forearm as a headrest. Gaz sighs internally, hoping to use the movie as a source of distraction from the other two’s totally bromantical antics.

“Damn.. who picked this..” A question Ace asked to which Gaz and Soap pointed to each other.

The movie proved to be quite the distraction. To put it lightly, it was pure shit, in Ace’s words. The sentiment seems to be shared with the two sergeants as the movie goes on. Now, the group were watching the shitty movie, with the added commentary of just how shitty the movie was.

A particularly poor attempt at a jumpscare played, a character dying as a result, earning a scoff from Ace. He turns to make a witty comment to Soap. His words however never seemed to leave his lips as Ace was faced with a strange sight. 

Soap was laughing at the movie. Even in the dim light, the glimmer in his blue eyes seemed to shine brightly. His face cast in soft shadows, colours swirling along with the movements on the screen. The corner of Soap’s eyes were crinkled as his lips were curled upwards, the sound of Soap’s laughter bubbling from his chest sounding sweet as ever. On his face was genuine amusement

Ace tears his eyes away from the sight, bringing his attention back towards the television. He focuses on the poorly shot scenes, trying to clear his head. By all means, Soap is a very attractive man but it wouldn’t be the first time he caught himself appreciating Soap’s pretty eyes a little too much.

“Fuck, look at that angle. S’fucking ugly, how’d the director approve this?” Ace comments loudly, barking a laugh. “Imagine spending money to go to acting school at the cameraman does you so fuckin’ dirty!”

Soap glanced at Ace as he made his obnoxious comment. He sees the way that Ace’s lips were tugging into a smirk. His eyebrows were raised, and the crows feet around his eyes seemed even more pronounced as Ace laughed madly and talked shit. It wasn’t that Ace never talked, but hearing his voice outside of work, even while being vulgar, was always music to Soap’s ears.

“Like can you believe this?! I’m gonna piss myself laughing, I swea-”  Ace suddenly whips his head to face Soap.

Suddenly their eyes were locked on each other. Ace looks at Soap, tilting his head up to accommodate for the height difference. Soap looks at Ace, suddenly all too aware of how close they were to each other. 

“Hey.. uh, what’s the time now?” Ace lamely asks.

Soap glanced at his wristwatch and looked back at Ace, pursing his lips and humming.

“Midnight.”

Ace hums as well. He nods, feeling heat on his face for some reason. Soap could feel his ears turning pink. Hopefully it’s not too obvious in the dark. They were so close, looking at each other and-

“Are we about to kiss right now?” Soap breaks the silence.

The abrupt line hits Ace like a truck.

Ace roars with laughter and Soap starts to cackle uncontrollably. They pull away from each other, throwing playful hits at each other. Ace snorts as he laughs, causing another laughing fit. Soap falls to his side, laughing so hard he wheezes. Eventually, they calm down from hooting and hollering, now giggling at each other. They take a deep breath each, gazing into each other’s eyes as they try to catch their breath, sighing softly.

“What? No New Year’s kiss, you two?” Gaz broke the silence, both to tease the two and to remind them of his presence, in case they forgot. He didn’t need to look to even see the pink on Soap’s ears and the wide eyed stare from Ace.

“Can it, Gaz..” Soap tosses a pillow his way and misses completely.

"Just a suggestion, mate."

[deitybird]

Birds out of yarn:

“Sorry,” he says with a sniffle on the drive home. “I hope I didn’t scare you.”

“You always scare me,” Damian says as he quickly turns a corner. Thankfully, Tim doesn’t jostle, and he has a brief moment of surprise over Damian’s careful driving. “I… apologize for making you cry.”

“What? No.” Tim shakes his head. “That wasn’t your fault, Damian. It’s just the hormones.” He wipes his eyes before resting his head against the glass, his body suddenly feeling heavy. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve cried over nothing during the entirety of my pregnancy. My worst emotional moment might have been when I saw a kid drop their ice cream on the floor, and I wasn’t even sad for the kid! I was sad because the ice cream wouldn’t fulfill its potential of getting eaten!”

The memory brings tears to his eyes, but Tim forces them away through sheer willpower and the memory of Bart and Cassie falling over in a dead faint when he told them about his pregnancy. Ah, good times. It makes him chuckle.

Damian shoots him a strange look, and Tim realizes he’s just sitting there, laughing at nothing. Whoops.

“We’re almost there,” Damian tells him and refocuses on the road. He looks so mature, and Tim sniffles, wondering when the hell his slightly less demonic little brother grew up. “Agent A will be waiting for us.”

“Aw, man,” Tim says, dread pooling in his stomach. “He’s gonna be so mad at me.”

AND

“Don’t put that thought into my head,” Tim scolds, starting to feel emotional. He looks at his baby, who seems so tiny in Kon’s arms, and sniffs. “I’m already dreading the day when I pick her up and she doesn’t do the newborn scrunch anymore.”

“Well, we could always have another,” Kon says pointedly, waggling his brows.

Tim glares at him, but heat rises to his cheeks at the thought.

Dick suddenly looks at Kon seriously, tears still streaming down his face. “Don’t ever make that joke in front of me again,” he says coldly and goes right back to crying his eyes out.

This entire fic is hilarious (and sweet) but i feel like Damians, "you always scare me" might be more underrated which makes me love it even more and Dicks, "Don’t ever make that joke in front of me again" might be my favorite line so far in the fic. Jason just suffered through them being them but Dick cut it off at the knees no mercy

this fic has a special place in my heart just because of damian and tim bonding through baby mj <3 haha! i like to think damian eventually grew used to tim and as tim kinda of grew up and became more comfortable around him, out came the unhinged behavior.

i did also answer this in a comment earlier, but this whole fic was born out of the idea of damian swooping into to tim's apartment to steal a delighted mj and walking right out without another word and tim's just like ??? okay. thus, favorite uncle damian was in my head

jason really going through it fr. won't anyone ever think about him?

[mad4turtles]

Okay, okay, I had to calm down after reading that last request you answered cause WHOOO- 😅

But for another idea, how about one with Casey ii and Leo? We didn't get too much of them interacting other than a tense moment or when a argument takes place and since you did marvelously with the other brothers.....

I cant think of a scenario for them but I know to definitely not doubt that magic writing you currently pocess ✨️

First of all, flattery will get you EVERYWHERE with me XD

Second of all, I'm sorry this took so long, but I really enjoyed the challenge! Here ya go!

---

It's April's idea to drive the whole clan up to her old family home in Southampton for the summer. The turtles were beside themselves with excitement, and with no leg to stand on, Splinter had agreed.

Plans were made, an ex-warring warrior scientist was kidnapped, a caravan was 'acquired' (and modified by their resident genius to fit Raph and Draxum), and they were off. Crammed in what had become a tiny house on wheels, drivers switched between pit stops. All nine of them.

Casey remembers hearing of April's old farmhouse in the rare moments of quiet in the main base. She'd sit down with him after a nightmare or a failed mission—there was plenty of both—and talk about the early days before the war, before the Krang, before mutants or Yokai had been more than a myth or a story in what she called a 'comic book.' She'd get a look on her face, worn with wrinkles and hardened by years of conflict that was softened by the stories of her early youth. Of her parents and the time they had before work took over. Streams and forests unspoiled by pollution (or blood or Krang fluids), singing birds, blue skies and trees that changed with the seasons. It sounded like a dream, a fantasy, and he'd said so aloud.

Commander O'Neil had smirked, a sad thing she rarely allowed, and threw an arm around his shoulders to bring him close. “One day, baby,” she'd said, kissing his cheek, “it won't be.”

As they pull up in the dirt driveway, Casey wishes she was here now to rub it in his face how she was right.

(Technically, she is here, whooping and hollering with the rest of the family as they pile out of the van with their luggage in tow. But it's not her at the same time, and now it never will be. 

He ignores the pang in his chest.)

The farmland itself is beautiful. Wide, spacious, green and free of prying eyes that would have the mutants and Yokai in hiding. The air and the skies are clear, the sun beaming down on them in glares of warm, unspoiled midday gold. He can hear the stream nearby over birdsong and Mikey's laughter as he and Donnie persuade Raph to spin them dizzy on the tire swing they discovered hanging on the branch of a sturdy tree.

Casey drops his bag on the grass. He shuts his eyes, breathes in deep and sighs.

He loves it.

(It terrifies him.)

Once they're settled in their rooms, April gathers everyone in the front yard to pick berries in the brush so Mikey can make pies for dessert tonight. Casey and Leo make up one team, leaving Mikey with a mildly reluctant Draxum as he tugs their stepfather by the hand. April steers Donnie away from poisonous berries, and Raph wrangles a dangerously competitive Cassandra—

“Come, Raphael! We shall acquire the ULTIMATE AMOUNT OF BERRIES! We will be the reigning champions of Berry Pickers in the history of the Hamato Clan!” 

“Cass, yer gonna rip off my arm!”

Splinter hurries to supervise and ensure the safety of the forest under Cassandra's... eagerness.

“God,” Leo says with feeling, watching them go. “I'm still not over her being your mom.”

Casey gulps. “How do you think I feel?”

Berry picking goes about as well as Casey expects. He and Leo fill their baskets, casual conversation flowing naturally—about Casey's online classes, adjusting to big city life, his new favourite food joints with the greasiest hot dogs known to man that he adores—and it's fun. Foraging for food isn't new to him, but the berries look delicious, far more than rats or leaves that reeked of rot and mould. Plus, the routine is comforting. A good distraction from—

From what? How good things are? How much fun you're having while everyone from your timeline is dead?

If Leo notices anything off once they rejoin the others, he says nothing. He gives Casey a searching look, but it's gone after the boy smiles and urges him along, losing themselves amid Cass and Raph's victory screeching, having 'bested' Donnie's team in berry picking with their baskets overflowing. Donnie quietly seethes.

Dinner is more the same—loud, chaotic, messy and everything that comes with the Hamato family. Casey remembers moments like this when he was small; back when the Resistance was stronger, more than just the fractions of the family left in the aftermath of hell unleashed. Master Michelangelo would gather them once a week for a meal between raids, missions and rescues, sit them down in a quiet corner of the base and just—be together.

In those small moments, Casey saw a glimpse of who the Hamato's used to be. Seeing them now, whole and everything they are, and will be, as this timeline thrives, Casey's chest aches with a whirlwind of emotions he can't pin down long enough to name.

That's not true. One is grief. 

He excuses himself after several helpings of Mikey and April's delicious pies, shutting himself in the room he's sharing with Raph and Leo. He flops onto his sleeping bag and stares at the ceiling fan. The sunset filters through the window in shades of vibrant red and gold, bathing the room in its warmth and Casey with it.

He's too angry to enjoy it, and that only pisses him off more.

Damn it, why can't he stop thinking? His future (past? Present? Freaking time travel) is gone. The Krang are gone, defeated, and the Key is safely hidden. Everything Casey had feared and despised is gone, replaced with the warmth, love and care of everyone he knew and everyone he never had the chance to meet. He has a family, a life, a second chance.

But he had a family before, too.

The future he came from may not exist now, but the people he'd known since birth were real. His memories, the scars from training accidents, missions and close calls, are real. His Master's dying words were real. 

And he misses them.

He adores his new family, these mismatched outsiders who have given him everything he never had and more. But he misses Master Michelangelo and Commander O'Neil. He misses the mother he barely knew but loved anyway. He misses—

“When you're done saving the world, do me a favour... grab a slice!”

He misses his dad.

The door creaks on rusty hinges as it swings open, Leo strutting inside like he owns the place (technically, he does, but only for a few weeks, and he has to share). Casey startles, wiping tears off his cheeks with a half-baked excuse on his lips as to why he's crying on the floor, but Leo doesn't give him a chance. The slider is on the floor with him, pulling Casey into a hug. One arm curls around his shoulders, the other cradling the back of his head and pushing his face into Leo's solid plastron. Casey lets him, confused, blinking hard—

“Breathe, Casey,” Leo says. “It's okay. You're okay.”

That's when Casey realizes he's hyperventilating. Crying and hyperventilating. Leo must have heard and come running.

Great.

But he breathes in time with Leo, the turtle's heartbeat strong and steady under his ear, and it helps. 

Just like always.

Because Sensei used to hold me just like this when I was little.

The floodgates burst, and Casey's sobbing in Leo's chest, clutching him for all he's worth, weeks and months and years of grief, fear, loss and guilt pouring out in heaving cries. 

Leo doesn't say a word. All he does is hold him tighter, both curled up on the withered floorboards of an old family home Casey had dreamed of seeing with the aunt who'd spun its tales, with the father and teacher he'd adored, now years younger. History repeats itself in the strangest ways.

(It's as he's calming down, feeling Leo's fingers card through his hair, that he realizes he's seen Leo do this with Mikey not long after the invasion when they were all still healing. He'd done it with all his brothers, with April, and he'd seen Splinter do it in the rare moments of vulnerability that Leo lets himself have.

It's a family thing, familiar and loving in every way Casey remembers. It's different. But it's not bad, doesn't invoke the same guilt that's been following Casey like a shadow since the night he arrived in this timeline.

They're still family. Casey's family.

This Leo isn't his sensei, his father, and he never will be. He's gone forever. But Casey has gained a brother in his younger self—four amazing big and little brothers, a sister in April, fathers in Splinter and Draxum, and... well, they'll talk about Cassandra.

It's a strange feeling. But a good one. A really good one.)

Even once he's cried himself out, Leo doesn't let go until after he uses his mask tails to dry Casey's cheeks—which nearly sets him off again, but now he's too tired to cry. Then they sit up, and Leo smiles at him. 

“I may not get what you're going through,” he says, bracing a hand on Casey's shoulder, “but I know what it's like to feel like you've lost everything while trying to save it. And no matter how good things are here and now, what you lived through won't go away. The memories of the people you left behind will still hurt. And that's okay. As long as you remember that you did everything you could.”

He lifts a hand to cradle the back of Casey's head in his palm, smiling bright and wide. “You saved us. You saved me. And no matter what, you're not alone. You'll never be alone.”

Casey's chin wobbles with his grin. “Right. Anata wa hitori janai.”

Leo's eyes go wide with surprise. Then his smile, touched, awed and proud, returns. “... yeah. You're Hamato, alright,” he says, bringing their foreheads together. 

Casey shuts his eyes and smiles through the last few tears.

Then when they part, Leo is grinning. 

Uh oh.

“Hey,” he says, and Casey feels fear. “Y'know what's a surefire way to cheer yourself up after a moment of emotional vulnerability?”

Casey blinks. “... that's very specific, but, no, what?”

Leo jumps to his feet, hands on his hips. “Help me grab all the pillows from the bedrooms, Jr. We're gonna start something.”

~0o0~

When they return downstairs, precariously balancing the biggest, softest pillows Casey has ever seen or felt in his life, the others are gathered in the comfortably cramped living room. They're settled on the couch, both armchairs and the floor, watching a movie with a dinosaur chasing a jeep full of people. It looks interesting--even Draxum seems invested--but then Leo grabs one pillow and taps Raph on the shoulder. 

The snapper turns, smiling automatically at his little brother. “Hey, Leo—”

WHAP!

Leo slaps Raph full in the face with the pillow, Raph's head snapping to the side. All heads whirl to stare as feathers burst from the case and drift lazily down.

Raph blinks into space, stunned. Leo bites his lip hard against laughter.

On the floor, Mikey giggles madly. Donnie's face flattens as he stands and grabs a pillow from where Casey had dropped them. Draxum pinches his brow. Splinter hurries the cutlery and china back into the kitchen. April scrambles for her phone.

Then Raph shakes with a dangerous chuckle. “Ohohoho, little brother,” he says lowly as he stands. Leo's giggling hard now as Raph makes a show of cracking his neck and rolling his enormous shoulders. “You wanna be startin' somethin'?”

Casey grabs one pillow and throws it to Mikey's grabby hands, holding another up to his chest as a shield.

Raph grins sharply, yanking the pillow from Leo's laugh-weakened grip. “Cos you know,” he says idly, “if you're gonna start somethin'. I'm gonna finish it. How am I gonna finish it, Leo?”

Draxum accepts the pillow April throws at him and holds it over his head, hunching low on the couch with a groan.

“I dunno,” Leo giggles. It's infectious as Casey snorts behind his pillow. Cassandra is standing on the arm of the couch with two pillows at the ready, grinning like a shark.

“Ask me, Leo. Ask me how I'm gonna finish it.”

Leo doubles over with breathless laughter. “How—snrk!—h-how're you gonna finish it—?”

“LIKE A BOSS!”

Raph charges, Mikey hollers “Pillow fight!” at the top of his lungs, and all hell breaks loose. Pillowy, feathery hell.

And Leo was right. It's freaking amazing.

It escalates until they're taking the fight outside, the sun fully set behind the trees and the stars glittering in the night sky as their laughter and shrieks fill the air.

In the middle of the chaos, Casey is laughing. Tears prick his eyes again from the ache in his gut (and face from April's eager swings) rather than his chest, where a new (old) warmth sits comfortably.

He leaps from the trees to ambush Raph with a bellowing cry—

“GOONGALAAAA!”

—and Raph catches him against his plastron, falling back to the grass and laughing his heart out as Casey pummels him with his pillow. “Okay, okay, I'm dead, I'm dead, staph, mercy little brother—!”

“Turtle pile on Raph!” Leo shouts, and that's how Casey ends up crushed between four turtles, April, Splinter and Draxum when Mikey yanks him by the arm to land on top of Cass, who wheezes under his weight.

(Casey understands, now, why Commander April had loved this place.

The clean streams, flowers, untouched grass and acres of unspoiled land are beautiful, Casey's dreams made real. But it's laying in the grass, sweating in the muggy summer heat with dirt and feathers on his face and hair, crushed under his brothers and sister(s?) and wheezing through heaving laughter...

That's what made it magical to her. It's magical to Casey.

He loves it.)

He meets Leo's eye in the tangle of bodies, and the slider winks at him. His heart swelling fit to burst, Casey winks back and says, “thanks, brother.”

Leo stares at him.

You're not my Sensei, but that's okay. You don't have to be. You can be someone just as inspiring, just as amazing. 

His crooked smile wobbles slightly even as he shoves Casey in the shoulder. “Anytime, bro.”

And just like that, Casey finally feels at home.

I'm home.

---

(Please send more rottmnt requests, I love writing these dudes!

Also reblogs are very much appreciated <3)

[parkerlyn]

touching / 37 / oisein 👀

cannot wait for more chaos & softness 🥰

(remember kids, don't fall for peer pressure and terrible friends like Oisein adfsakljl) Thank you for the asks! ❤️

putting their head on the other's chest | holding hands while jumping down from somewhere together

You try to remember how the conversation went, considering where you've ended up. How did you finally agree? Did you actually finally agree? Did you get marionetted? Were you going to have to find a way to quietly murder Oisein?

They had come to you, all teeth in a terrible grin and splotchy, glowing markings flickering with excitement.

"Absolutely not."

"Please please please please-"

"Oisein, I'm not jumping down the Saor waterfall!"

They bring their hands inward like a prayer and give their best attempt at a pout and pitiful eyes. The whole charade looks much less innocent as their long, sharp nails clack together, though. "But the pool is fuller from the recent rains and Heleen won't go without Mav and Mav won't go unless I do and I need moral support. And by moral support I mean you jumping with me."

"The base is right at the edge of the hydro pillars - what if someone from Saor is out there?!"

"We'll wear our glamours!! I was already planning on it, not trying to snap one of these," they say with a nonchalant wave to an antler. "Any mortalis will just think we're a bunch of reckless assholes."

"You ARE being a reckless asshole!"

"Oh it's not even that high, and Heleen and Mav are both elementalists-"

The rest of the conversation blurs out among the dark branches above the Sanctum, and the odd image of Oisein happily skipping away.

Which would explain your current predicament.

The raucous water tumbling over the cliff's edge sprays onto your bare legs and crossed arms, icy pinpricks kissing at your elbow and shins. Thunderous sounds echo back up to the top of the cavern and into the canyon beyond where the stone rings of Saor glint like silver bracelets, delicately detailed with the reflection of thousands of windows.

More whooping and yelling comes from below - far, far below - as what looks to be a pale mortalis woman with coiling ginger hair laughs on the bank. She leans forward, lifting herself from a grassy patch, to throw a scoop of darkened water at a thin person lounging waist deep at the water's edge, the wet sheen of their deep brown skin reflecting moonlight into your eyes. Without their sheevra forms, an unconscious part of you wants to stay out of their sight. But you will yourself to remember the prickly desert flowers of Heleen's markings as she lays back down again, and the winding orchids that normally curl over Mav's shoulders as they blow raspberries in the woman's direction.

Oisein says something next to you, but when you don't respond over the rushing water, they raise their voice.

"If you kill me now, they'll know it was you! So-"

"What?"

Oisein smiles widely next to you as you turn, their disguise more familiar. Their honeyed waves of hair, currently pulled back into a tight bun, provide some comfort alongside the earthy freckles speckling their tanned skin.

Or well, it would, if they weren't the reason you were in this mess in the first place.

Remembering that, you snap your head forward again with a huff.

They laugh - nervously, you notice - and step forward towards the edge of the stone precipice, peering down below. Their bare toes curl into the rock, shoulders rising as they hold a breath. "Okay!" they almost shout over the echoing noise. "It's a little further up than I thought it was. But that's why we're doing this together, right?" The smile turns apologetic while their eyes stay fixated on the drop, but any sympathy you have has already been washed away with the falls, plummeting into the pool below.

You glare at them again, though their edges are blurred and softened by the mist surrounding them, a faint glow diffusing from the stars in the background and the weak light of their markings.

Despite your harshly set face, they turn back to you and pause, before slowly hold out their hand. Curled fingers hesitate for a moment and then unfurl, showing you their empty palm.

You press your lips into as thin of a line as you can possibly muster, determined to glare them off the edge of the waterfall without taking you down with them.

"Can't do this without you," you read from their lips more than hear, their chin lowering but eyes still held your face. The outstretched hand still waits, though you notice a fearful shiver run from their wrist and up towards their collar.

What feels like an eternity passes before you finally give a heavy sigh and uncross your arms, stepping towards Oisein. You slap your hand into theirs, the base of your thumb fitting squarely into their palm, and they wrap their fingers tightly around your hand as you both turn outward to the open air.

The moments begin to blur like the conversation that led you here. A swallow and a flare of their nostrils. Your fingers gripping tensely against their knuckles. One more furtive look to each other and an anxious song kindling in the magic leaking out from the tense leanhaun.

And suddenly, you're flying.

A burst of air pushes you clear of the cliff as you jump, a bright chord that lifts you safely away. The wind whips and streams over your arms as your stomach lurches up into your ribs, your legs cycling through the air. Sound boils and bursts through your throat in tandem with an ecstatic screech from Oisein, muted by the roar of wind and water.

Even as you hurtle nearer to the waterfall's base, the blackened pool quickly approaching, your hands still remain tightly clasped together.

And then, you're floating. Stomach rolling downward against a pillow of swirling wind, water lapping up towards your ankles, twisting upward in lazy tendrils from the surface of the pool. You look down the last dozen feet to see Mav's hands glowing in the water, Heleen's poised expertly in the air above her face. They grin just as you look to Oisein, who laughs, loud and exuberant, water droplets floating near the loose strands of hair that glide gently around their ears.

You catch a sneaky smirk exchanged between the other two sheevra before they release their magic, dropping you the last few feet to plunge into the water.

Chilled bubbles race over your body as you break the surface, taking a quick breath and slamming your eyes shut. The water rushes in around you, weaving over your neck and surrounding you in a bracing cocoon. Muffled murmuring sounds somewhere in the distance (where the waterfall ends?) and you take a chance to open your eyes against the current. Above you the water glitters darkly, scattering the image of the night sky and and reflecting a murky outline of your body back to you.

The heat in your hand finally registers again, the only source of warmth bursting over your fingers as Oisein pulls upward, more bubbles flowing over their windmilling arm and where their feet kick below. It only takes a few seconds more to feel the tug at your shoulder, before you emerge together in a tangle of limbs and gulp in a desperate breath.

While they move backwards and help pull you from the water, Oisein is already berating Mav and Heleen, who snort and giggle together a few feet away. But despite the chiding, there’s a wide grin on their face as they fall back onto their elbows and pull you up towards them, repeating quiet questions of "You okay? You alright?" You nod, cough once, and laugh despite yourself, arms wobbly from the adrenaline and knees digging into the dirt between Oisein’s legs. As more of your senses return, you notice an unwelcome lack of warmth in your palm, but immediately brush that thought away.

The blonde sheevra goes silent eventually, breathing deeply as the wet, ivory cloth of their shirt clings tightly to their chest. They lay their head back against the grass and blink their eyes, splaying their arms out wide.

Without thinking, you collapse where your arms have taken you, thumping your soaked head face first against their chest and elbows framing their hips. There’s a small 'oof' and a laugh that shakes your head when you make contact, before your head bobs with their even breathing.

A chill comes near your body, but the worst of it is held at bay as Oisein’s hands move down to your shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. When you pry your head back up there’s a smile - gentler than usual - alighting their lips. Their hands stay, rubbing warmth into your muscles and eventually resting along your upper arms.

You'd thought their breathing had settled, but you can’t help but notice the quickening pace of their heart and the way they still themself, trying to restrict the rise and fall of their lungs. They swallow, much like they did before you leaped, and you feel their legs tense against yours. Infinite seconds pass while Oisein's lips barely part, neither of you wanting to break the moment.

Which Mav happily does, whistling shrilly at your side.

Oisein scoffs and removes one of their hands to flip them off while carefully putting a little more space between your bodies, shifting awkwardly up the grassy hill. Disappointment drops rudely in your gut while they shiver noticeably again, the sudden absence of your body against theirs bringing back the full effects of the autumn night.

But in the next instant, their head turns to the side, bangs flopping unceremoniously over one of their vibrant eyes before a mischievous look twists their face.

“Wanna go again?”

[stilldani24]

Pain, but like, It’s Tolerable

corpse husband x platonic!reader oneshot

words: 1089

request: “corpse x reader where she’s a streamer but she’s very private about her personal life and she randomly goes awol for a week before coming back and steaming among us. during the game the others notice that she’s unusually quiet and she lets it slip that she had surgery and is kind of in pain and that’s why she isn’t talking much and everyone is concerned, specially corpse and then he texts her/facetimes her after they both stop streaming to make sure she’s alright and to scold her (like playfully) for not letting him know about the surgery” from anonymous

Your doctor told you to rest for a while, not to work out, and not do anything too strenuous. You knew exactly what to do during your recovery period, and that was play Among Us until you literally dropped from exhaustion. 

Okay, not really. But pretty close.

You were actually kind of nervous to go back to playing, especially since you had been pretty much AWOL for the entire week. You had suffered from a few health conditions throughout your life, and had numerous surgeries to fix them, or at least attempt to. Whenever you had one surgery, another one followed three or so years later. And after years of trying to get your kidneys to work with you, you had eventually gone into kidney failure and began dialysis while still trying to be a streamer and maintain your friendships with those you met online. It was hard, balancing everything while also being an adult who had to pay rent and shit, but you managed. All you had to do was pray that someone in your life was a match for you so you didn’t have to wait potentially years on the waitlist. 

Your sister was tested and came back as a match, and graciously donated her kidney so you could stop needing dialysis and have a long, happy life. You two now only had one kidney each. Kidney buddies. You should remember to make a shirt like that for Christmas to give to her. 

But the second day back from the hospital, you made your way slowly to your game room. You had an ice pack to your incision, wrapped in a towel of course, and slowly sat down in your chair with a soft grunt. After situating your pillows so you wouldn’t be in too much pain, you messaged your Discord group you were in with Corpse, Sean, Felix, and a few others that you were down to play. They immediately sent the game code and you hopped into the game, followed by joining the call. The lobby consisted of Sean, Felix, Corpse, Dave, PJ, Nogla, and yourself. Sean, Felix, and Nogla were streaming whereas the other four of you would just be vibing along with them. You would get back to your regularly scheduled streams when you healed a bit more, so you could be your normal loud and animated self while not worrying your viewers too much. 

“Y/N!” Sean greeted you enthusiastically, making you smile as your little purple avatar ran around the lobby of the game. “Where the hell have you been, we’ve been worried sick!”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Corpse added, and you sensed a little smile behind his voice, but also genuine worry. “Where were you, yeah.”

“Oh, just had some personal business to take care of, don’t worry about me,” you responded casually, adjusting yourself a bit. It caused a little twang of pain, causing you to hiss quietly. “So, uh, what are we playing today?”

“We’re gonna play hide and seek, you down?” Felix asked. 

“Oh, so down. Let’s go, boys,” you replied back with a grin. 

As you played a few rounds of hide and seek, followed by a few rounds of the school game telephone, and finally you guys put the lobby in 3x speed and raced around the map. The boys were all loud as hell as normal, and the race was hella fun, but if you laughed too hard, it hurt like a son of a bitch. Corpse had noticed after a while of your near silence, but didn’t say anything until his worry got the best of him. 

“Hey, Y/N. Are you sure you’re okay, you seem really out of it today,” he mentioned in the lobby between games. 

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “Alright, fine, I’ll spill. I didn’t wanna say anything while a few of you were streaming, but it’s alright. I got surgery a week ago. I had a kidney transplant after my kidneys failed, so yeah. I’m in pain right now, but it’s tolerable so I wanted to play with you guys. Kinda take my mind off of it.”

The boys were kinda silent after that. 

“No cap?” Corpse finally asked, making you laugh. While you were both Gen Z, the lingo sometimes got you when he used it in front of people who definitely were not Gen Z. 

“No cap, Corpse,” you replied, a smile still on your face. “Deadass though, I’m doing alright. I missed playing after not being able to for a week of being in the hospital so let’s get back to it, shall we?”

After a weird game of trivia, where Dave gave PJ the easiest question ever and the rest of you questions you couldn’t even think of answering, the lot of you stopped playing and exited the call to go about the rest of your days. Not even two minutes later though, as you were trying to get the strength to stand up, your phone began ringing with the familiar tone for FaceTime. You slumped back down into your chair before picking up your phone. 

“Hey, Corpse, what’s up? Miss me already?” you teased as you sat back in your chair, grunting a little bit from the movement. You were definitely not FaceTime ready, with dirty hair and sleep deprived eyes, but you were always down to talk to your best friend. You didn’t give a fuck what you looked like to him. Corpse had his camera off. 

“Damn, you look like shit,” he laughed, making you do as well. It was just the kind of friendship you had. “But what the fuck, dude? You were MIA for a week just to come back to say that you had a kidney transplant? The fuck?”

“I’m sorry!” You laughed, holding your arms up slightly in defense. “I didn’t wanna worry you. You already got shit going on in your life, you don’t need my problems tacked on as well.”

Corpse audibly huffed, and you could tell he was just rolling eyes. Playfully, of course. “Hell, if you needed a kidney, you could have fucking asked. I don’t know if I’d even be a match but I’d be willing to get tested.”

“Awe, Corpsie,” you teased playfully. “Genuine friendship? In this economy? Unheard of. But thank you, that actually means a lot. Where were you when I was on dialysis though, huh?”

“Well if you would have fucking told me--”

“Whoops, look at the time! Gotta go!”

[bruh-changbin]

stressed out

pairing: han jisung x female reader

requested: yuss

genre: smut, kinda fluff? minors dni

warnings: sexy shower time, unprotected sex (be safe y’all), fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! receiving), making out, that’s about it

word count: 1632

a/n: this hasn’t been edited so ignore anything that doesn’t make sense lol!! also ends kinda abruptly whoops sorry haha

・・・・・・・・・・・

rain slowly cascades down your window as you wait at a red light, sighing as you anticipate arriving at home. the stress of a full day was eating away at you - your limbs feeling like they’re filled with sand as you drive yourself home. 

jamming your key inside the lock, you fling the door open and are greeted with a dark and empty house. although you were hoping for your boyfriend jisung to already be home when you arrived, the quietness brought you a sense of serenity as you kicked your shoes off and made your way upstairs. at last, you were home; and although you were alone you could still relax. 

your bedroom welcomes you with open arms as you turn on the light and step inside, immediately tossing your bag and jacket onto the floor as you flop onto your plush bed. the gentle patter of the rain on your roof tempts you to fall asleep, but you know if you pass out now you won’t be able to sleep later. besides, what better way to end a tiring day than a steaming hot shower. 

it’s hard to force yourself to get up but you do eventually, rubbing your eyes in an attempt to wake yourself up before grabbing your towel and heading to the bathroom. goosebumps appear on your skin as you slowly remove your clothes, the cold air of the bathroom prompting you to move at a quicker pace to get in the shower. 

steam fills the bathroom by the time you step into the shower, the hot water immediately washing away all of your stress from the day. closing your eyes, you let the water run through your hair as you sigh loudly. 

some time goes by and you don’t move, relishing the warmth and comfort the cascading water brings you. 

all of that comfort is gone the second you hear the shower door slide open, your heart leaping out of your chest as you whip your head around - only to realize it’s just jisung. 

he seems just as startled as you initially; his hands raised to protect his face, only dropping them when you realize he’s not an intruder. “you scared the shit out of me” you mutter before completely turning around to face him. he chuckles before stepping into the shower and closing the door. “m’ sorry y/n, that wasn’t my intention,” he responds with a grin before sliding his hands across your shoulders, “you looked peaceful and I didn’t want to disturb you.” 

jisung pulls you closer to him and you wrap your arms around his torso, inhaling his scent as the water trickles down both of your bodies.

“how was work?” he says while reaching behind you to grab your shampoo, squeezing a generous amount onto his palm before massaging it into your scalp. 

“mm, it’s the same thing everyday,” you mutter in response, eyes fluttering closed as you relish the feeling of jisungs fingers running through your hair. “i just can’t wait until i can leave.”

jisung knows you dislike your job. its your typical 9 to 5 office job: dreary, repetitive, and boring as fuck. although your position is temporary - you just need to save up enough money to go to school - you still can’t wait for the day you can finally leave. 

jisung nods understandingly and gives you a sympathetic smile before gently pushing your head back under the stream of water. the bubbles from the shampoo run off your scalp and go down the drain, bringing all of your stress and worries with it. 

its times like these that you really value your relationship with jisung; the way you know he’s listening and that he cares without him having to say anything is a trait not a lot of people possess. 

you open your eyes to see jisung gazing back at you with a soft expression. you exchange small smiles with each other before he leans in and gives you a gentle kiss on the lips. it only lasts for a second but you still feel weak in the knees as he pulls away.

almost automatically, you find yourself leaning forward to capture jisungs lips once again, not caring if you look desperate. jisung chuckles lightly at your actions before placing his hand on the back of your neck and deepening the kiss. 

moving to thread your hands through jisungs hair, you tug on his locks causing him to elicit a deep groan against your mouth. things seem to heat up quickly between the two of you as he nips at your bottom lip while moving his hands to grab your hips.

the next thing you know you’re pressed up against the tiles of the shower wall, the cold surface a stark contrast from the hot water. you let your head fall back as jisung kisses along your jaw, his blunt nails digging into the skin on your lower back. 

your brows furrow as he moves to suck on your neck, his tongue dragging along your delicate skin as you move to grasp at his broad shoulders. 

in a split second the feeling of jisungs lips on you is gone. a whine of protest escapes your lips as you open your eyes to complain and ask your boyfriend why he stopped. 

you quickly bite back your words as you make eye contact with jisung who is now kneeling in front of you; his face inches away from your core as he grabs your right leg and places it over his shoulder. he places a few delicate kisses along the inside of your thigh, occasionally nipping lightly and leaving a trail of light bite marks leading to where you need him most.

jisung wastes no time before diving into your pussy, his sudden actions causing you to arch your back off of the shower wall. you moan out his name as his tongue explores your folds eagerly and his hand strokes your thigh that's flung over his shoulder. 

his mouth returns to kissing your thigh as his fingers take over for his tongue. you moan out his name as his fingers tease your folds before slipping easily into your hole. two of his fingers fuck you as he moves his mouth back to hone in on your clit, his tongue flicking your bud in time with the thrusts of his fingers. 

“fuck jisung… feels so good” you moan before catching your bottom lip in between your teeth. jisung can feel you clenching around his fingers as he pry’s his lips off of your clit, standing up so his hips are pressed flush against yours.

the feeling of jisungs hard cock pressed up against your core has you gasping for air, choking slightly when your lungs fill with thick steam from the hot water instead. your boyfriend curtly grabs your jaw to reconnect his lips with yours while guiding you to hook your leg around his hip.

jisung wastes no time before getting down to business - using his other hand to drag the tip of his cock through your folds in a painstakingly slow manner. after teasing you briefly, he slowly begins to push inside you, your walls swallowing his length as he lets out a deep groan. 

he pauses for a moment, allowing for you to get used to the stretch before slowly pulling out of you - almost completely - only to push right back in. keeping a firm grip on your hip, he starts to fuck into you at a slow, rythmic pace as gentle moans fall from your lips. 

the good thing about jisung is that he understands what you want. sometimes, you want him to blow your back out and leave you sore for the days to come. now is not one of those times. appreciating the rather sensual and gentle pace jisung has set, you allow your head to roll forward and bury itself in the junction between jisungs shoulder and neck. the two of you have been together for a while now, so you know to not leave any marks on his skin; opting to run your tongue over the swell in his collarbones. 

the soft patter of the shower becomes background noise as you both moan aloud in the confined space, jisung rolling his hips expertly so he rubs against your clit with each thrust. your tightened grip on his shoulders lets him know you’re close to finishing, and he is too. you can tell by the way his moans increase in pitch and his movements get slightly sloppy that he’s chasing his high just like you are. 

desperate for your release, you begin to rock your hips forward in time with jisungs- albeit it’s a bit difficult seeing as you only have one leg firmly planted on the floor. a few more hasty thrusts from jisung has you cumming around his dick, your limbs slowly turning to mush as jisung holds you up and finishes inside of you moments later. 

you feel nice; definitely not the best orgasm you’ve ever had, but a good one nonetheless that washes away all of your stress. opening your eyes, you’re met with the stunning visual that is jisung post-orgasm: head thrown back, messy hair, chest heaving. 

you reach out to push his wet hair off of his forehead causing him to open his eyes. he gives you a soft smile before placing your leg back on the shower floor and giving you a charismatic peck on the lips. 

although it would’ve been nice to bask in the hot water with your lover for moments longer, the shower water had now gone cold and you opted to get out. besides, if you keep this up, your water bill will be sky-high by the end of the month.

[sageinacage]

Pog :0 Based around the stream where they did a pvp - Boomer getting tired of losing so he wrecks Punz in hopes of getting a second win?

I hope that you’re doing well and have a great day/night!

Endurance Training summary: boomer wants to knock his cocky friend punz down a peg during their pvp training. a/n: i hope its okay i kinda derailed from the original prompt D: its still them and still in a similar setting but its just boomer being a cocky ass instead LOL warnings: swearing, lighthearted mocking (?), describing a fight in minecraft kinda LOL w/c: 1.4k IG, Platonic

~

“Haaa, I’m so good at this.” Punz stretched his arms over his head after yet another victory, shooting a shit-eating grin at his friend. “Isn’t that right, Boomer?”

Boomer fixed his frog hat, and let out an annoyed huff as he crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re just lucky, dumbass.” He spat back, grumbling something snarky to himself as he straightened out the light training armor equipped on him.

“I don’t think there’s anything lucky going on with you falling on your ass. Multiple times.”

“That’s because you tripped me, you asshole!”

“Oh, boohoo.”

Boomer opened his mouth to say something sassy back at his friend, but decided not to as Punz is definitely someone who could match his level of wits and he knew that. Instead, he let out an exaggerated groan and picked up his training sword, standing on the opposite side of the arena from Punz.

“Ready for round… uh… three? four? Definitely a number.” Punz rubbed the back of his head as he let out a few chuckles, composing himself after a few seconds and holding his sword and shield steadily. “Born ready, baby!” Boomer tried to jest, his goal being to distract Punz in any way he could.

Punz gave the man in the frog hat a confused eyebrow raise, rolling his eyes and beginning to approach him. “Punz, you do not want to come over here!” Boomer sang in a slightly worried tone, backing up and nervously skipping to the side. “Oh, but I really do, Boomer! C’mon, don’t be shy!” Punz sneered, his speed picking up a bit as Boomer let out a high-pitched giggle and ran off.

The man chuckled as his friend’s nervous giggles, shaking his head before equipping the fishing rod from his inventory, reeling Boomer in by the hood of his hoodie. “No!” He screeched, unhooking himself and skipping away again. “You slippery frog!” Punz exclaimed, continuing the chase.

The round ended like normal, some half-assed fight from Boomer then getting absolutely whooped after. “Boomer, c’mon! You gotta try harder than that!” Punz urged, trying to pull the sulking man up from the ground.

“Hm.” He hummed, his whole body going limp as his friend tried to lift him off the ground. “Don’t be a baby, bud.” Punz laughed, eventually just gently dropping him back down. “Am I just too good that you don’t wanna try again?” He chuckled, a smirk painting his features.

“No, I’m just thinking.”

“About…?”

“How to knock you down a peg or two- then I’d put the effort into fighting you.” Boomer grinned widely, a grin that Punz definitely did not trust. “How would you be able to knock me down if you won’t even fight me for real?” He crossed his arms, slightly tilting his head.

Boomer stood up, making the blonde take a small step back.

“I don’t like that look you’re giving me-”

“I remember a little something about you, Punz.”

“Boomer…”

“I remember you had a little… weakness… yeah. A weakness.” Boomer chuckled lowly, taking a step towards Punz. Punz squinted his eyes, trying to seem intimidating but took another step back as the white-haired man took another one forward.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Punz rolled his eyes, putting a hand on his hip. “I think you do, Punz! It’s probably why you’re blushing right now.”

“I am n- not! My cheeks are red out of anger. Yeah, that’s why.” He looked down, avoiding eye contact with the other. “Yeah? Out of anger, Punz? Totally not because you know I’m about to tickle you, and you can’t do anything about it. Y’know, how about we look at this like endurance training- you did originally ask me to train with you to improve, yeah?” Boomer continued as he kept slowly walking at Punz, until he got close to him.

“I’m- I’m n- not… ticklish?”

“Sure you aren’t, pal.” Boomer sneered before tackling his friend onto the grass, rolling around as he wrestled with him to get the upper hand. Eventually, the ‘CEO of Bedwars’ got the blonde pinned under him, but not after a good wrestle.

“Gotcha.” Boomer spoke low in Punz’s ear, before using his free hand to claw into his ribcage. “Sh- Shihit- Boohohomer!” He tried to hold back his giggles, shaking his head as the immediate sensation wracking his ribcage already tickled like hell.

“What’s up? I’m all ears!” Boomer laughed, deciding to pin Punz’s hands beneath his knees so he can use both of his hands. After he managed to pin them there, he wiggled his fingers at his friend. “Now, where should I go next? Your tummy is just right here, so cute and begging to be tickled… but I think I’m gonna go riiiight here…” Boomer gave a devilish grin before kneading his thumbs in circles into his upper waist.

Punz shrieked, arching his back forward. “YohoHOU- *snort* SUHUHUCK! STOHOP IT!” Punz cackled, trying to twist side to side to get rid of the sensations, but the damn feeling just won’t leave and it was causing ticklish shocks to spread across his whole torso.

“N’awww, Punz! I know you’re easily strong enough to escape. You really just wanna be tickled to tears, huh? Tickled so much that you won’t be able to lift a finger against me. Yeah? Is that what you want, Punzie?” Boomer teased, not letting up on those wonderful horrible ticklish circles on his lower ribs.

Covering his face, Punz dug his heels into the ground behind him to try to relieve some of the sensations, but Boomer was just so persistent. “SOHOMEWHEHERE ElSE! P- PLEHEHEASE!” He squealed as his friend’s hands immediately went to squeeze his hips, then to back up to sit on Punz’s knees, immediately scribbling his nails into his thighs.

“NONONO- NOHAHAHAHA-” Punz immediately retaliated, his legs being extremely ticklish. Boomer let out an evil laugh at this new discovery, repeatedly squeezing that spot right above his kneecaps which earned the most high-pitched giggles from the blonde. “No? Not here? Hmmm… I think I like it here, though!” Boomer announced, before scooting back up.

Punz breathed heavily, weakly pulling at his hands- but they remained stuck under Boomer’s knees. “You done?” Boomer asked, his voice expressing more concern than anything. Punz, always wanting a challenge, just smirked. “Never.” He continued to smile, but his eyes grew wide as Boomer slowly started to pull up his white hoodie.

“Ooh, look what we have here! An adorable tummy, just waiting to be tickled by yours truly. You ready, Punz? Are you ready for the tickles since you’re enjoying this soooo much?” Boomer didn’t give him time to answer as he immediately began to flutter his fingertips over his exposed stomach.

“COHOLD HAHANDS- BOOHOHOMER Y- YOU AHASS!” Punz squealed, throwing his head back as one of his worst spots was targeted. “N’awww, you have such a ticklish tummy! That’s so sweet, Punz. I wonder though… ah- ignore me, I’m just going on a ramble.” Boomer spoke to him like he wasn’t destroying him under his fingertips.

The fluttering fingers turned into raking nails, the feeling it provided tickling like hell. Boomer was still curious, though. ‘Do raspberries actually tickle? Would that be a good idea?’ He thought, his fingers not stopping his attack on Punz’s stomach.

Well, here goes nothing.

“PFFT- PLEHEHAHAHAHA- BOOHOHOMER NOHOHO!” Punz went completely limp as a raspberry was planted right on the pudge of his stomach, the feeling strange but extremely ticklish. He let out another screech as more raspberries were placed, followed by nibbles trailing up his sides and ribs as Boomer’s fingers continued to dance along his belly.

“This is so priceless, holy shit!” Boomer eventually sat up, fondly laughing at the dazed look on Punz’s face. “ALRIHIHIGHT!” Punz exclaimed, playfully shoving Boomer off of him and curling up on the grass. “There you go, you managed to escape!” Boomer joked, standing up and towering over his friend.

“That was fun, don’tcha think, Punzie?” Boomer teased, earning an ‘angry’ growl from the other. “Revehenge will be fuhun…” Punz mumbled through his after-giggles, glaring up at Boomer.

“Sure it will, giggles.”

“Shuhut up, will you?!”

[qitwrites]

⬅ Previous || 11 || Next ➡

The hoodie incident begins with Kaminari, as most absentminded things do in the dorm.

It’s a cold Saturday morning, and Kaminari can’t find his hoodie anywhere. He briefly looks through his room, the common room, the dishwasher (because it’s happened before and no, he would not like to comment), and the courtyard before deciding he’s probably lost it. Just as he starts to make his way back, with plans to stop by Ashido’s or Kirishima’s room for a spare jacket, the jingle of a machine stops him in his tracks.

It’s the sound of a dryer that’s completed its cycle.

Kaminari doesn’t remember the last time he did his laundry but decides its worth a look anyway. He ventures into the laundry room, and when he sees the familiar shade of yellow, slightly worn out and well-loved but vibrant yellow nonetheless, he picks it up from the basket and beams.

‘How did you get here?’ he muses and puts it on with a satisfied sigh. He doesn’t question why the hoodie is so warm, or why it smells like fresh detergent, or how it’s way too big in pretty much every single way. He just decides that it’s his and leaves for his room.

Satou, for the life of him, cannot find his yellow hoodie.

It was in the laundry basket when he’d left to go grab a glass of water, and it’s gone by the time he gets back. It’s a whole ass mystery honestly.

It’s too cold to be without a hoodie, so Satou decides to borrow one from Kouda for the time being, and figure it out later. Kouda hands him a purple one with chewed up drawstrings and a front pouch pocket that sheds lint, and Satou gives him a huge grin as thanks.

This works out fine for everyone so far, but then Kouda drops some milk on his only other hoodie an hour later, and he can’t ask for the one he gave Satou back because Satou hasn’t found his either. So, Kouda just goes to Shoji and asks if he has any jackets to spare. Shoji, ever the minimalist, has a limited collection of clothes, but there is a sleeveless jacket, dark and warm, on a hanger in his closet that he happily hands over to Kouda.

Shoji is a pretty warm-blooded person, but the day is quite cold. When Tokoyami sees him shiver once, almost imperceptibly, he goes to his closet and pulls out a sleeveless moto jacket, dark as midnight and lined with faux fur. It isn’t really Shoji’s style, but he appreciates the gesture and shrugs it on. It’s warm and smells like nothing, and they go back to watching a YouTube documentary on Tokoyami’s floor, with Dark Shadow curled up nearby.

Dark shadow has the biggest soft spot for Tsuyu, so when Tokoyami is in the common room chatting with Iida and Ojiro later in the day, Dark Shadow sneaks off towards Tsuyu and tells her Tokoyami is feeling a bit cold, and happily takes the offered green jacket. He hides it away from Tokoyami the best he can.

Tsuyu, with her frog like disposition, does not do well with the cold. In fact, it’s one of her biggest vices, so the minute her jacket is gone, she feels herself seize up. Jirou walks by a few minutes later to see Tsuyu curled up on the couch, not moving and dressed too lightly.

‘Tsuyu,’ she shouts, rushing towards the green haired girl while pulling her hoodie off. She gently nudges Tsuyu into the material of her maroon hoodie, and Tsuyu finally exhales, warmth seeping into her extremities. She gives Jirou a happy smile.

‘Thank you,’ she croaks, and Jirou pats her head before plopping down on the couch next to her.

Jirou feels the cold soon enough, even as she snuggles into Tsuyu, but she doesn’t want to go to her room and pull on another jacket. She’s having fun watching a music concert on TV while others talk in the space around them. It’s homely, and she’s scared of breaking the moment by leaving, because they don’t get moments like this very often. Moments where everything is normal, or as close to normal as they can get, and the air is calm and the dust settles in random pools of sunlight streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the hall. So she just sits and waits.

Bakugou shows up 45 minutes into the concert, a black and orange hoodie draped over his arm. He leaves it on the couch next to Jirou as he walks over to the kitchen to refill his bottle, and because Jirou lives to irritate the ever-loving shit out of Bakugou, she simply picks the hoodie up and pulls it on. The material is soft and cool and smells of fabric softener. The sleeves are more worn out than the rest of the hoodie, tiny holes and jagged corners littering the cloth sporadically. Tsuyu gives Jirou a nod of approval, and she returns it with a cocky smirk of her own.

Bakugou takes one look at the back of the couch, one look at the girls, one more look at the back of the couch before he snarls, exploding the bottle in his hands and spraying water everywhere.

‘I’ll KILL you.’

‘Try me,’ Jirou taunts drily, not moving her eyes from the screen. Tsuyu protectively curls into her, and the two slump lower into the couch.

Bakugou takes one step towards them when Kirishima, sunshine Kirishima, Bakugou tamer Kirishima, the lord and savior Kirishima steps into the room, takes one look at Bakugou’s expression, another at Jirou’s frame covered in black and orange before shrugging off his green hoodie and stuffing it over Bakugou’s head, wrestling him into it. The blonde yells and kicks the whole time but lets it happen because Kirishima’s hoodie is warm, slightly oversized, ridiculously comfortable and smells safe.

‘You’re going to train right?’ Kirishima asks with a wide grin. ‘Let me come with ya! I’ll let you beat me up as much as you’d like.’

Bakugou snarls in Jirou’s direction one more time but surprisingly relents, pulling Kirishima away by the collar of his shirt.

‘Clean that shit up,’ he shouts over his shoulder at Jirou, referring to the exploded water bottle in the middle of the room.

‘Ok mom,’ she shouts back, and sniggers at the yells of fuck you and shitty hair let me go I will end her. Messing with Bakugou is the best. She waits for the hour mark to pass on the concert before getting up to find a mop and a dustpan.

Kirishima and Bakugou train for upwards of 2 hours, oscillating between working their quirks till their bodies ache and sparring without their quirks to strengthen their bodies. Their fights look like they’re dancing, so attuned are they to each other’s movements, so familiar with each other’s fighting styles, it’s almost art. Bakugou is faster, more agile, and hits where it hurts, but Kirishima is an immovable, unbreakable wall, taking hit after hit and pushing back, standing strong, giving as good as he gets.

They’re drenched in sweat by the end of it, and Bakugou pulls on the green hoodie as the cold seeps in, giving Kirishima a feral smile.

‘Shouldn’t have let ears steal mine,’ he smirks, before sauntering over to the vending machine to get himself a hot drink. Kirishima just shrugs with a smile, and lays down on the ground, slowly stretching out his hamstrings. He’s always run a bit warm, so the cold isn’t anything unbearable, and he doesn’t mind Bakugou wearing his hoodie. The blonde doesn’t do well in the cold at all, so he’s a lot more manageable when he’s warmed up.

Kirishima twists to the side and something under one of the exercise mats catches his eye. He rolls over to it and picks it up and finds an off-white jacket roughly in his size. He feels like he’s seen it before, so he just shrugs and pulls it on. It’s a nice thick material, and fits just right, maybe erring on the side of tight around his shoulders. Bakugou comes back, cocks his eyebrow at the jacket but doesn’t say anything.

He throws a drink at Kirishima and starts walking back to the dorms. Kirishima smiles at the warm coffee in his hands and runs to catch up, launching into a story about a kitten, a tree, and a stupid idea.

‘Can we drop by the gym? I think I left my jacket there,’ Ojiro says to Tenya as they walk towards the main entrance. Tenya had expressed his desire to go out for a walk, and Ojiro, who’d been in earshot, had decided to tag along, having felt cooped up from sitting inside the dorm building all day. Iida agrees enthusiastically and they begin walking to the gym, passing Kirishima and Bakugou on the way.

It isn’t until Kirishima is out of earshot that Ojiro realizes the guy is wearing his jacket, and when he watches the red head walk into the dorm, he decides he doesn’t really mind. He didn’t want the jacket back cause he’s feeling cold per se, he just wanted to make sure he got it back. He can pick it up from Kirishima later he decides.

‘On second thought, I think I’ll look for it later,’ Ojiro murmurs, and Iida shoots him a confused look. They start moving away from the gym, heading down a well-worn path often traversed by the students and talk about upcoming hero movies and its easy and fun and the sun is bright not harsh. It’s a perfect day for a walk.

Iida and Ojiro get surprisingly into their conversation that they don’t even notice someone is yelling at them and when the earth just sort of vanishes beneath Ojiro’s feet, he yelps out loud.

He looks over to see Iida’s eyes widened in surprise and then there’s black tendrils wrapping around their hips as they’re yanked back. Looking down, Ojiro’s stomach whoops at the wide chasm, as if at the edge of a cliff. He might’ve been super invested in his conversation with Iida, but there’s no way they missed the edge of a cliff, right? Also, was there always a cliff here? What the hell?

‘Guys.’ They look up to see Midoriya standing there, pulling them up with his black whip. He’s like a guardian angel, but he’s still not great with it so when he yanks them up, they land pretty hard on their sides, and Ojiro lands in a mysterious puddle of water, effectively soaked to the bone.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry,’ Midoriya gushes, rushing towards them. ‘Shit, I didn’t mean to put you guys down so hard, are you alright?’

Iida gets up, fortunate enough to not have landed in a puddle of water and straightens his glasses. ‘What is going on? Where did this cliff come from?’

Midoriya shrugs. ‘The land seems to be giving out weirdly. I was out here doing some strength training and the land just crumbled away. It reappears after some time. Also, it’s not a cliff.’ He points at the spot he just pulled them from. ‘Seems like a quirk, some kind of illusion one. The land had given away and the fall is steep, but it’s not a cliff. Just looks like one.’

Ojiro’s head spins with the random assortment of info, but he has more pressing problems to deal with. His soaked shirt is making him shiver, and it feels icky against his skin.

‘Oh, you must be cold,’ Midoriya notices immediately, and before Ojiro can say he’s fine, Midoriya shrugs off his All might hoodie and holds it out for Ojiro. ‘You can pull your shirt off and use this for now! It’ll suck if you get sick.’

Ojiro almost says he’s ok, but he’s getting colder and colder and the hoodie looks so warm and inviting so he decides screw it and peels his shirt off, shuddering when the cold air nips at his skin. He quickly tries to brush off any stray droplets before tugging on the hoodie, and sighs at the warmth he’s enveloped in. Midoriya is like a furnace apparently, and it’s wonderful. He gives the green-haired man a warm smile.

‘Thanks man.’

‘No problem!’ Midoriya says. ‘I think I’ll go back to the dorms and give everyone a heads up about this, maybe tell Aizawa-sensei as well. Will you guys be ok?’

‘We will be fine,’ Iida says, hands rigidly gesticulating in the space between them. ‘Ojiro and I will survey the land around and see if there’s anything we’re missing. We will be careful, so do not worry about us Midoriya.’

Midoriya flashes them an easy smile and with a wave, he makes his way back to the dorm.

Midoriya loves that hoodie, an old All Might piece that’s a tad big for him but warm, warmer than most of his clothes. He’ll ask Ojiro for it later he decides, slowly trekking back to the dorms. The whole floor giving away and light playing tricks business seemed more silly than villainous, but anyway, it made sense to bring a teacher into the loop to deal with it accordingly.

As he walks back to the dorms, the sweat on his body cools and chills him to the bone, and Midoriya misses his All Might sweater with a vengeance. Rubbing his hands along his arms, Midoriya picks up the pace and sighs in relief when the dorms come into view. He’s maybe 150 meters away when a familiar voice calls out to him.

‘Midoriya.’

Todoroki looks comfy and fashionable in a beige coat, a white shirt, and trousers paired with semi-formal shoes. Midoriya puts it together and realizes he’s coming back from one of his hospital visits, and gives him a warm, familial smile.

‘Welcome back, Todoroki. What’s up?’

Todoroki nods at him, smile small and hesitant, but there. It’s so much progress from where they started, like he’s thawing and cracking the ice around his soul.

‘Just got back. What are you up to? And why aren’t you wearing a jacket, it’s a bit cold outside, isn’t it?’

For Todoroki, the jacket is more for show than a necessity, considering his temperature quirk. He’d once told Midoriya that by using clothing to regulate his body temp it allows him to conserve energy, but overall it wasn’t too much of an effort for him to regulate himself on the daily. It’s all so fascinating, and Midoriya has like 4 pages worth of notes on this alone.

‘It’s a long story,’ Midoriya laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. He gestures for the dorm entrance. ‘Should we head in?’

Todoroki nods again, and Midoriya starts walking, trying to find things to talk about. He knows Todoroki’s hospital visits leave him feeling a little lost, a little sad, a little drained. He’s deciding between a new hero analysis he did about Sniper and a puppy rescue video he watched on Instagram when a coat is placed over his shoulder, extra warm on the left. He startles at that, turning to look at Todoroki with wide eyes.

Todoroki acts like he’s done nothing and starts the conversation instead. ‘On the way here, in the train, I saw someone wearing a tomato costume. I am confused, to say the least.’

And they don’t speak of the jacket. Midoriya slips his hands through the sleeves, pulling it around himself tightly and laughs at the imagery in his head. Todoroki’s soul thaws a little bit more and they walk to the dorm, contemplating why anyone would be in costume outside of Halloween.

They part ways when Midoriya says he wants to talk to Aizawa, and Todoroki heads to his room in a lighter mood. It seems to be a pretty common occurrence once he talks to Midoriya. Though, if he’s being honest, that seems to be the case with most people that speak to Midoriya, with the exception of Bakugou.

Todoroki settles into his room for the evening, content with just reading his manga and maybe getting some homework done when he hears a knock on his door. Bookmarking his spot in the manga, Todoroki walks to the door and opens it to find a grinning Sero.

‘Hey man, got a minute?’

Todoroki nods, and gestures for Sero to come inside.

His friendship with Sero is strange. It’s strange because it’s effortless. Sero doesn’t push him to talk or open up, he doesn’t question him, doesn’t stare at him because of his dad, doesn’t ask about his scar or his family, doesn’t really say much at all. They share comfortable silences, and Sero shows him new music, new clothes, and new stories. Todoroki, in turn, shares his mangas, advice about training, and his love for Soba.

Sero walks into his room and sits at the low table, placing a cloth bag on it. When Todoroki sits in front of him, he pushes the bag towards him.

‘For you!’

Todoroki’s eyes shoot up in surprise and he carefully opens the bag. Inside he finds a jacket, made from a cloth that is brick red, the material cotton soft and breathable. It’s cut like a short kimono, and the patterns are simple and subtle. It looks very much like the clothing Sero normally wears, kinda bohemian.

‘Mom sent me a care package, and I think I talked about you a lot on the phone, so she included this for you as well! Apparently she found it at a nice boutique or something.’

Todoroki isn’t used to friends, much less gifts from said friends. Something inside his chest shifts, and he hugs the jacket to his chest.

‘Thank you.’ His voice shakes just the slightest bit.

Sero’s laugh is warm. ‘Try it on man! I need to take a picture and send it to my mom or she’ll think I kept it for myself.’

Todoroki pulls the jacket on slowly, and Sero whistles low.

‘Damn, looks so good! The shoulders fit nicely too. Do you like it?’

Todoroki nods. ‘It’s very comfortable. Please tell your mother I said thank you.’

‘Fo sure, fo sure. Can I get a picture?’

Todoroki is awkward as all hell when it comes to pictures, but he agrees, and Sero takes one mercifully quickly. When they both stand up, Sero walks over to him, throws an arm over his shoulder and pulls him close for another picture. Todoroki throws up a peace sign, something he’s seen the others do just to have something to do with his hands.

‘This one’s real nice!’ Sero says, admiring the photo.

‘Send it to me later.’

Sero reaches out for a fistbump that Todoroki returns. ‘Sounds good yo. I’m gonna get going, I’ll catch you later yeah?’

Todoroki nods and with that, Sero leaves his room. Todoroki belatedly realizes that the jacket smells like Sero- like sandalwood and fresh tea. Perhaps his family smells like that. The thought twists that little something in his chest even more.

Tonight is act-like-bakugou-will-only-cook-for-himself-and-eat-the-“leftovers”-that-can-somehow-feed-the-entire-class night and Sero loves to stand by the kitchen isle and contribute with his stellar sense of humor. Watching Bakugou create mini-explosions and scream bloody murder is just a bonus.

When he gets there, the blonde is already working on dinner, clad in a green hoodie that looks a lot like the one Kirishima wears. Sero takes a seat by the kitchen island and pulls his phone out to scroll through some memes when he suddenly finds himself assaulted by a face-full of glitter.

Gasping, Sero leans back in his chair and falls on his ass, the glitter coming with him. He hears shouting and laughing and someone saying You have, and please excuse my French, pretty shitty taste Monsieur and Sero is so confused.

When he pulls the lump of glitter away, he realizes it’s a jacket, a sequined jacket that’s a bright, bright gold. It’s soft in his hands, and the inner lining feels like actual silk.

‘What-‘

‘It’s Aoyama’s,’ Kirishima says, pulling Sero to his feet. ‘I got here right when Bakugou yelled you fucking walking disco ball little shit and Aoyama decided throwing the jacket was the way to go. Clearly,’ Kirishima gestures at him, ‘he missed.’

Sero laughs and holds up the jacket. He turns it in his hand and takes a closer look at the fit and the material. Considering it’s Aoyama, he shouldn’t be surprised, but the jacket is actually the perfect balance between tacky and really, really nice. Sero looks over at the two blondes yelling at each other, Bakugou brandishing a spatula while Aoyama threatens him with his navel laser and Sero just shrugs and pulls the jacket on.

It fits like a dream, comfortable on his bones, the length perfect even on his tall frame. He adjusts the sleeves and is surprised by how deep the pockets on the inside are. When he looks up again, everyone is staring at him.

Sero clears his throat self-consciously. ‘What?’

‘It looks good on you Monsieur,’ Aoyama says with an actual sparkle in his eye.

‘Damn Hanta, looking like a whole-ass meal,’ Kirishima cheers, and even Bakugou has a quirked brow. He gives him a small nod and then snorts, ‘Still looks like a shiny voltorb.’

‘I’ll take the compliment,’ Sero grins, shaking his torso this way and that. The light catches in these fun and trippy ways, and Kirishima playfully shields his eyes. Aoyama bounds over to him and winks. ‘That’s not all.’

He runs his hands up Sero’s arms, and the gold glitter turns to silver, and Kirishima squeals.

‘That’s so cool!’

Sero runs his own hand up the sides and he feels like a child again, and it’s amazing.

He looks at Kirishima. ‘Want to try drawing a penis on the back?’

Kirishima howls, Bakugou throws a spatula at Sero, and Aoyama looks rightfully horrified. He lets Sero take the jacket anyway.

Iida is not happy when he finds Aoyama in a sleeveless jersey when its cold enough to see your breath, so he lectures him for a good 4 minutes before handing over his track suit jacket. Aoyama wears it with a grumble of All my twinkling has died a painful death.

Uraraka drapes her shrug over a napping Iida sprawled across the couch after a long day, belly full of Bakugou’s amazing food. She pulls his glasses off and keeps it on the table, tucks the sleeves against Iida’s body and hopes the make-shift blanket works.

Mina thinks Uraraka’s outfit is missing something and throws a denim jacket on her from her own closet, a cute cropped piece with some artfully placed rips. Uraraka beams at it, digging her hands deep into the front pockets and posing for a picture.

Momo watches this happen and shyly offers her own chunky sweater to Mina, asking her to make an outfit around it. Mina smashes the challenge, and the end result is so good that Momo insists she keep the jacket, claiming she can honestly just make her own, even though they both know she won’t, because, you know, Momo is the most conscientious person ever that actually cares about the economy.

When the night winds down and everyone finds themselves sprawled over the couches and each other, Hagakure follows Uraraka’s example and pulls her bomber jacket off before draping it over Momo and herself, a make-shift blanket. Momo huffs out an amused laugh and pulls the invisible girl closer. The night is cold, but the common space is just warm embers and crackling fires and the smell of smores.

And finally, just before bed, Shinsou decides to tackle the mountain of clothes on his chair. He hangs the jackets, folds the pants and shirts, and rolls up the socks. At the very bottom of the pile is a well-loved, slightly faded but still ridiculously bright yellow hoodie that belongs to the one and only. Shinsou huffs in amusement, and proceeds to pull it on before climbing into bed.

The hoodie incident begins with Kaminari, as most absentminded things do in the dorm.

It doesn’t really end though.

[ayatakami]

Singer!Reader HCs

feat. Alt MHA bois  Part 2 Here

Pairings: Bakugo x Reader, Sero x Reader, Hawks x Reader, Dabi x Reader, Shoji x Reader, Tokoyami x Reader, Kirshima x Reader Notes: The songs I put at the bottom just imagine them with a fem! singer bc its the overall vibe I went for. There is a part two bc it got pretty long whoops

⇩                                 ⇩                                       ⇩                                             ⇩

Doesn’t openly talk about loving your music or you per se, but owns so much merch of you and your band. I’m talking posters, postcards, albums, shirts, etc. 

Listens to your voice R E LI G I OU SL Y

If he thinks he’s alone then he’ll try to duet some of your songs, convincing himself that you two would make such a great singing duo

UPLOADS DRUM COVERS OF YOUR SONGS AND FREAKS OUT WHEN YOU LIKE/RESPOND TO THEM!!!11

ALWAYS goes to your signings if he has time and when you signed his drumsticks with a heart mans is deceased

Always opts for more of your heavier/faster songs bc this man just needs the fuel to his anger. But on days when he’s really down or feels lonely he listens to your more softer and melodic songs, soaking in your vocals.

Rewatches your music videos and likes every single picture you post. 

Favorite song of yours: Calm Snow - I See Stars

Tells EVERYONE about you and your band, plays your songs on blast and recommends them to everyone. 

Doesn’t really own much posters of you/your band but he does have lots of apparel. (Shirts, beanies, keychains, etc)

LOVES attending your concerts, always gets front row seats to see your pretty smile. 

This dude man, he has pictures of you two on his page from every concert/meet and greet/ signings/etc that he’s ever attended. Like so many you know his name now. 

He’s more drawn to your easy-going, light vocals type songs 

But isn’t afraid to listen to your heavier stuff

Mans STREAMS your music videos and loves making edits of solely you

Favorite song of yours: Silence Speaks - While She Sleeps

SIMPING FOR YOU!!!! HE EVEN HAS A BODY PILLOW OF YOU IM--

Several posters, photos, stickers, albums, you name it he has it

Brings you lots of gifts to each backstage concert bc yk he buys that VIP shit

He will absolutely DIE if he sees pictures of you wearing an expensive necklace he gifted you or any sort of jewelry

Hangs out and talks to you so much that you guys actually become good friends!!

I feel like he would lowkey make fanfics about the two fo you. You cant tell me he wont

Has an ALT ACC WITH THIRSTY EDITS OF YOU!! Calls you his baby bird/dove/songbird/etc

I also feel like Hawks plays guitar or bass and he would def make covers or even collab with you bc yall besties now

Mans has a tiktok account and will def post videos of yall singing together 

Although he’s a really chill guy I feel like he leans more towards your slower songs that hit harder than the others

Favorite song of yours: The Fear Of Letting Go - Too Close To Touch

Being a villian and all, you know he cant come to your concerts/events but he damn well tries to. 

Doesn’t own much merch of yours as he accidentally burnt a poster he had of yours after a certain incident (he felt really bad bc he got mad)

I feel like he would def have a funko-pop or figurine of you on his desk

Loves jamming to your songs (blasting it so loud in his room that its literally shaking in there LMAO)

Watches ALL of your music videos, streams and BUYS YOUR MUSIC TO SUPPORT YOU HE LOVES YOU SO MUCH

Sings along with you omg even tho it hurts to reach your high notes

Thrives off of your more aggressive songs especially the one where he can feel the pain in your voice over whatever subject or whoever you were singing about

Definitely wishes he was that ex you sung about LMAO

Why can I see him punching drywall to your songs bc hes so into it LMAOOOO

Favorite song of yours: Crooked Smile - Too Close To Touch

One of the bois who don’t talk about their love for you super much, but instead is a closeted fan!

Watches your music videos on REPEAT, knows the lyrics to all of your songs

Whenever you smile at the screen or do something cute, he is STRUCK with love

Binge-watches all of your interviews/funny moments/etc, just loves getting to know you and seeing all the sides of you that isn’t the perfect singer that everyone sees

He does attend your concerts/events but he stays in the back for he doesn’t want to scare anyone or you with how he looks like

Why can I see him running an appreciation blog like-

Posting about your cute smile or laugh and he’s internally panicking bc you mentioned his blog in your latest interview saying that seeing all the kind things he posted about you made your day whenever you were down

Prefers the slower, melodic songs or where you’re just messing around

Favorite song of yours: All I wanted - Paramore

Have you SEEN THIS MANS ROOM

Like there is no doubt in my mind that he has posters covering every inch of his wall. Limited edition posters, signed posters, you name it he has it

Doesn’t really talk about you but if he knows his friends also listen to you, then he will def rant about you

“Hey Tokoyami have you heard _’s new song yet-” Man has bags under his eyes bc he streamed that song so many times last night listening to it on repeat. When the music video dropped he shared that shit on all of his social medias.

Def does covers of your songs, it fills him with joy when you repost his covers on your account with a nice message ‘You’re so talented omg!! <3 <3′ 

Also to me he would be the type of guy who posts lyrics in the comments if there isn’t any and would def go into detail about the lyrics meaning and such

Has a jacket full of patches of your band logo and album covers

He’s met you on a few occasions and he’s more than happy to stop and chat with you. Although he doesn’t go into full fan mode with you around, he respects you and instead asks about your day and such

Has no preference on your style, just that its you singing

Favorite song of his: Dance Macabre - Ghost

[honey-coloured-passion]

It’s A Secret (Sapnap x Reader)

first fic first fic!

summary: Dream convinces you and Sap to join a competition where the loser gets exposed, but nothing ever goes as planned when your favorite boy is involved : )

“That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard in my life.” you laughed, rolling your eyes at Sapnap and Dream’s antics. “C’monnn it’ll be so funny the viewers will eat it up!” Dream cooed while you groaned “you say that cuz you always get like more views than Sap and I combined!” To which Dream choked out laughter through his familiar wheeze. “Oh come on, how much money for you to do it?” you heard Sapnap die from laughter over the call at Dream’s bribe before he piped up, “whoever gets exposed you’re buying dinner Dream,” and Dream immediately agreed. “Absolutely worth it, you in y/n?” and you shook your head, “why the hell not I guess.”

You started up your stream, adjusting your headset nervously as you watched chat speed up at the title “Least viewers gets exposed vs Dream and Sap” all confused as to what was going on as their three favorite streamers all went live simultaneously. “Gooooood day chat what’s up!” you grinned, thanking a couple gifters and waiting to see Dream pop up in team speak to give the challenge information. “You guys better stick with me today, I don’t wanna lose the secret challenge,” you laughed, noticing Sap and Dream joined the channel.

“Ready to learn the rules dear viewers?” Dream laughed maniacally. You watched your chat going absolutely crazy. 

“Here’s how it works, we are gonna stream for thirty minutes doing everything we can to get the most viewers, then the person with the least at the end has to tell a secret they wrote down on stream, and trust me guys they’re all sooo good.” Dream wheezed while Sapnap chuckled before continuing. “We all told our secrets to George who didn’t want to stream with us cuz he’s lazy but it works cuz now he’s our keeper, so it’ll be fair and George can confirm all the secrets are crazy,” Your chat was losing it’s mind asking you what your secret was. 

“So let the view-competition begin” and with that, Dream left the call. “Sap you gonna stay and hang or leave?” you asked, racking your brain to find a way to get hella viewers as soon as possible. “I’ll hang” Sapnap answered to your relief. “Good I can farm your viewers then,” you teased with a giggle. Then your phone started to buzz, and you saw Dream was tweeting out the information and begging for people to come to his stream. “Oh hell no, chat help me out!” you laughed, going to tweet on your own account. 

10 minutes in: Dream 68k, You 43k, Sapnap 39k.

“Sapnapppp I’m so excited to learn your deepest darkest secret” you cooed with an evil laugh while Sapnap punched your minecraft character. “Whatever I’ll clutch up, work smarter not harder dear y/n,” you could hear the playful tone in his voice, swallowing the butterflies that kept trying to surface. “How can you work smarter if you barely have a braincell dork!” you teased, beginning to crit out his character when he realized, pearling away with a screech. “You do NOT want to play this game with me I’ll destroy you,” he ate a golden apple then began running towards you axe in hand while you screeched, running away. 

15 minutes in: Dream 65k, Sapnap 45k, You 44kk.

“Sapnap how the hell did you convince four different channels to raid you in the past five minutes WHAT” you pouted with a laugh, knowing you could beat him in viewers if you just got one or two more raids. “Mhm a magician never reveals his tricks,” you rolled your eyes though your chat kept spamming “why is y/n blushing so much?” and “SIMPNAP SIMPNAP” because Sapnap was helping you decorate and finish the design of your house. You had to agree with chat, he was adorable, bringing you flowers, collecting the exact type of wood you needed, helping to fill your chests, you were beginning to forget about the competition and just enjoy his presence. 

20 minutes in: Dream 68k, Sapnap 46k, You 45k.

“Oh my god it’s so close between you guys” Dream wheezed as he joined your voice channel. “Hey Dreammm wanna send me some stray viewers?” you giggled while Dream denied you. “Mhm no but maybe you can ask Mr. Simpnap to send you some of his? Heard it’s not the only thing he’s been giving you and I figured I’d crash the date.” Dream teased, his tone dangerous while Sapnap exclaimed, “hell no I’m not losing this competition and I am not a simp, especially not for y/n” Sapnap drew out your name, you could hear the smile you adored dancing on his lips. Chat was going crazy, though it was pretty well known how close you and Sapnap were due to the two of you always being on call together and just being found on the SMP hanging out, it was rare the two of you gave the fans this much flirting in one stream. Not that there weren’t hundreds of Y/N x Sapnap compilations on youtube of people pointing out how you and Sap had been in a TeamSpeak room together alone for five hours straight, or him getting defensive of you on the SMP, or him constantly complimenting your skill during MCC’s. Not to mention you always asking where Sapnap was, or someone else asking and you answering quickly, showing how frequently the two of you talked. Needless to say, he was one of your best friends, but that wasn’t gonna stop you from destroying him in this competition. 

25 minutes in: Dream 78k, Sapnap 54k, You 51k.

“Hello to my new viewers! Glad you came back to support! Huge shoutout to Niki for the raid and all the raiders who stayed I love y’all!” Your palms were getting sweaty, you needed to get 3k viewers in five minutes or George was gonna drop one of your most embarrassing secrets to the world. “How are you feeling Miss Y/n?” Dream teased, he knew he was safe. “Shut up Dream if I lose I’m ordering some expensive ass food for you to pay for,” you shot back, making him die of laughter. “At least I’m not the one who’s gonna get exposed in front of like 180 thousand views,” you flipped off the camera with a grin, hoping he was looking at your stream. 

28 Minutes in: Dream 78k Sapnap 55k, You 51k.

“Man I think it’s over what do you think Sap?” Dream teased while you laughed, still hopeful that something could happen in two minutes. “Eh I say give it another minute then we call it. You never know” Sap replied cooly. “Shut up you’re like 4 thousand people ahead it’s over for me” you pretended to cry, making Sapnap and Dream break into laughter. “You really don’t wanna lose huh.” Sapnap said, “um duh, this sucks,” you answered, quickly refreshing your view count. 

Then something crazy happened. 

~Sapnap is raiding with a party of 55k~

30 minutes, time up: You 110k, Dream 78k, Sapnap 0.

“WHAT” Dream was the first to scream. You did a triple take before screeching into the mic “SAPNAP WHAT ARE YOU DOING” to which he quietly replied, “I didn’t want you to be sad.” making your cheeks flush to an ungodly warmth. “Oh- uh does this still count? What’s happening?” you reached for your water bottle when George joined the call. 

“Interesting ending, but I know the secret so I guess I’d say it makes sense” You froze. “What the hell does that mean?” You said, noticing Sapnap had turned on his camera function in the call. “O-ok, George you gonna announce his secret?” Dream tried to take control, noticing his chat was spinning out of control. George piped up, "I think it’s better Sapnap says it. I���m just here to make sure he doesn’t chicken out,” Then Sapnap cleared his throat. “Well so uh, I guess my secret is...” You saw him look straight into the camera, his eyes felt like they were meeting yours.

“I like you y/n. Like a lot.”

Your jaw fell open, George and Dream began screaming and whooping, and your chat absolutely lost it’s mind, going so fast your chat function crashed. Your immediate reaction was to mute yourself on stream. “I’m muted now- Sap- Nick, are you serious?” you gulped, staring at Sapnap’s video while he couldn’t stop grinning. “You really think I’d do all this just to lie? No chance in hell. We can talk about it after stream but I thought it’d be fun to do it live. I can help you end stream if you want?” Your brain was flying high, your heart beating out of your chest, and your mods were begging for help. 

“O-okay. Uh hey chat! Nice stream today, record high viewer ship thanks to uh- Nick- Sapnap, thanks to Sapnap um, I’m gonna get off now,” You took a few deep breaths, gaining your traction before continuing. You hovered your mouse over the end stream button but decided you had one more thing to say. Leaning close into the mic with a smile you whispered, 

“Oh and Sapnap, I like you too” 

~live ended~

checkout my other sapnap fic!

[softcallofdutyimagines]

Day 4: Armageddon | Prompt List

Alex Mason x Reader

My very brief time in the walking dead fandom has prepared me for this exact moment

The heat of the city wafts into the broken windows of your stolen apartment. At long last the sirens and loud speakers all around the city have been silenced. They must assume there are no survivors.

Truth be told, you appreciated the constant noise while it lasted. It helped drown out the screams of the people.

You take a glance out your window. The fires are still raging from the anarchy and riots when this all began. You're not sure why you feel so compelled to keep checking, but you always scan the far away streets for any survivors.

So far, all you've seen is more shambling corpses.

Disgusted, you walk away and drop yourself on the couch. It's the end of the world.

Tears prick at your eyes. You scramble for your backpack. There, right there where it always is, is the one framed picture you have of you and your husband, Alex Mason.

You were on your way to pick him up from the airport when this all broke out you know. He'd just come back from deployment on another one of his highly classified missions. You didn't even get to see him come off the plane.

Everything was getting shut down. You saw the plane land, just as you were being forced to turn around and drive go to such and such quarantine area.

You thought you'd at least see him there, but the whole area was over run by the time you got there.

God, everything went downhill so fast...

You've just been trying to survive ever since. Alex taught you a few things about what to do in a crisis, and they've served you well, but you can't help but remember that you can only loot and run for so long.

You're just one person in a city full of infected. Things were worse back when the survivor zones were actually operating, thanks to the gangs and looters. You tried to get to just one, but had to flee for your life nearly every time.

You blink the memories away and focus on your picture again. A tear breaks free down your cheek as you take in Alex's smiling face. You trace a finger down his jaw. He's been through so much, and yet he works so hard to try and push it all out of his mind when he's with you.

He might not think of him self as such, but to you, he's your hero.

You look towards your window again. It's stupid, but... A part of you thinks maybe you're just waiting for him to rescue you.

A huff escapes you in spite of yourself. You sound so pathetic. But damn, do you miss him.

Days go by as you camp out in your lonely tower. Your last food run was a close call with the undead. You're perched on your window again, looking out but not seeing, as you contemplate moving camp.

Suddenly, the sound of gun fire goes off nearby. It's more common then you'd think with the roving gangs and scavengers, so you think little of it. You race to grab your rifle and post up.

A dinged up Humvee comes roaring up the street. Fuck. Maybe you'd better hide...

Another several shots go off a whoop goes up from on of the passengers.

"You like that you fuckers!"

Wait, you recognize that voice...

You peek over the ledge, and there he is. Frank Woods stands in the turret gunners spot of the vehicle, shooting into the crowd of zombies with no real discrimination. If Woods is here, then could he...

There. There, it's Alex, in the driver's seat. You know it.

You've never felt so frantic in your entire life. Shock and joy and relief wash over you all at once as you shoot up and wave your arms in the window. You scream Alex's name at the top of your lungs.

He came back for you.

Woods sees you first and dips down to tell his buddy the good news. The Humvee screeches to a stop and whips around to get it's passengers as close to the apartment entrance as possible.

A stream of happy tears flow down from you. Alex and Woods smash their way into the entryway as you race around to gather your things. There's so many thoughts going through your mind, you can't decide what you want to say when they get up here.

Soon enough you hear your name being called from down the hall. You race to your door and throw it open while the other two make their way down.

Relief and joy like you've never seen before washes over Alex's face when he sees you. He stops dead for a moment, frozen with overwhelming elation, before he sprints up to meet you.

A small shriek escapes you as he snatches you up in his arms and gives you a spin. When he sets you down, he refuses to let go, holding you as tight as can be like he ever wants to let go again.

"I thought I lost you", he whispers through his tears into your hair and kisses you again.

You sniffle and smile. You know how he feels.

"Alright, very touching, can we get the fuck out of here!", Woods breaks up the moment, looking a little antsy to get back out of there.

Alex rolls his eyes, but relinquishes his hug and takes your hand instead. "Come on, we're getting you somewhere safe"

You look up at him filled with wonder. The way he says that makes even you feel confident about your escape.

He's definitely your hero.

[belphies-cuhm-sluht]

RuneDate (Belphie x GN!Reader)

3.1K Words

(Went all in on the runescape fic... Whoops!)

“I can’t believe you decided to go visit your family right before a fucking pandemic hit.” Belphie groaned into his phone. It had only been a week then since it had started and he was already complaining. You could only laugh in response, reiterating what the news reporters and the doctors on the tv had said.

“Only one more week. Fourteen days tops, and then I’ll be back down there with you.” You said cheerfully, your feet swinging back and forth in the air. You always acted this way when you talked to him, and he talked to you on the phone every night since you had been up in the human world, so this is how you spent most of your evenings. You loved the sound of his voice, it always made you smile, and you’d find yourself getting flustered, even if he wasn’t trying to get you that way.

“It better only be one more week. I… I mi-.... My bed is really empty, okay. So just, hurry up.” He grumbled, and you were sure that if you could see him his cheeks would be a bright shade of red, his face now buried in his pillow to hide his embarrassment as if you could actually see him through the phone.

“Mmhm… I’ll see you by the end of next week, alright. Get some sleep. Goodnight.” You hadn’t been able to hide the fact that you were laughing. He tried so hard to cover up just how cute he could be, but he wasn’t very good at doing it. He mumbled a quiet goodnight before hanging up the phone. You couldn’t wait to see him again, and this next week couldn’t go fast enough so you could finally be in his arms again.

Morning came, the same as it always did. The birds outside singing and dogs in the distance barking at whatever passed by. You groaned quietly, grabbing your pillow from underneath your head and holding it over your face, trying to block out the sunlight that streamed through, but the buzzing of your phone beside you had your eyes opening slightly, reaching out to grab it and answer the call.

“It’s too early, Belphie.” You were exhausted even though you hadn’t really done much the day before, but your sleep schedule was a wreck and waking up at 8 in the morning meant that you had only gotten four hours of sleep and you desperately wanted more.

“Hmph. You’re not going to bed at a good time. Plus, I haven’t been able to sleep either.” It was a constant complaint of his, one that’s become expected, not that it was your fault, and he didn’t blame you for it… But you did hear about it a lot. “Let me guess… Just one more week, right?” He mocked the words that you had said over a year ago. You could hear the annoyance in his voice, and you’ve explained to him multiple times that it wasn’t your fault, humans were just selfish and stupid, and he didn’t disagree with you at all.

“I wish. I miss you… Maybe I can’t sleep because I’m not with you.” You heard him scoff on his end of the phone, and then the rustling of his sheets as he got out of bed. It’s like you could almost see him if you closed your eyes and listened close enough. He was on his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth, the sound of the floorboards that creaked beneath his feet were distinct and made it clear that that’s where he was going.

“Oh please…” He mumbled around his toothbrush, and while most would be annoyed with him talking while doing it, to you it just made things seem a little bit more normal. He would always try to talk to you from the bathroom while he brushed his teeth, and you could see it now, the toothpaste dripping from the corners of his mouth that you’d roll your eyes at but quickly throw him a rag for before it got on his clothes. “You never went to bed at a decent time down here either. You always wanted to stay up and watch horror movies, I had to practically put your ass to sleep.” He let out a low chuckle before spitting into the sink and then rinsing his toothbrush off. “I have an idea.”

“Oh? What is it?” You sat up in bed, intrigued by whatever his idea could possibly be. You knew that he wasn’t going to sneak up and spend the night with you, as much as you wanted him to. Diavolo was put off by the idea of anyone coming or going from the Devildom, he didn’t know if demons could catch the virus, and he wasn’t going to risk catching it himself.

“You ever play runescape? I know it’s an old game… but… It can be like a date… or something…” He quickly swigged the mouthwash, definitely trying to hide the fact that, again, he was flustered by his own words. God, if he got any cuter your heart wouldn’t be able to handle it.

“A runescape date. Yeah… that sounds really fun. Tonight then?” You were already pushing yourself off your bed and going over to your computer, quickly signing up and downloading the game for later. It had been so long since you’ve actually played it, and even if it was slightly confusing and you were, on a stat level, an absolute fucking nooby… it would be fun, because you were playing it with him.

“Tonight. And uh… maybe I can teach you how to fish… I’m really good at fishing. I just reached level 98.” And honestly, that was the hottest fucking thing you’ve heard him say in a while. Like… level 98 fishing in runescape. Fuck! You really just wanted to see him fish at this point, but you’d have to wait until later.

“You’re gonna have to teach me a lot of things… It’s been a while.” You were talking about the game, and you knew that he knew you were talking about the game, and you were pretty sure that you hadn’t sounded seductive or hinted at anything sexual, but Belphie was… well… Belphie, and he knew how to turn things in that direction quite easily, and he knew that it would have you stuttering a little and it was like he lived just to fluster you at the most random moments.

“It’s been too long, but I’ll teach you a lot of new things once I have you back here.” You hated him… you adored him but you hated him. You both knew that you couldn’t do anything about the feelings that he had purposely made you feel right now, but he loved teasing you, just to get you back for all the times you teased him over text. He cleared his throat, and you could hear him walking back out into the bedroom. “Alright well, I’ll call you later. Can’t wait for our date tonight.” He chuckled softly, knowing that he was basically blue balling you at this point, but you’d also get him back for it, you just needed to think of how. He quickly hung up before you could say anything else, and you knew that he was laughing his way all the way back to his bed where he’d lay back down and probably pass out for the next hour or so. At least it gave you time to finish the tutorial and try to get the hang of the basics.

You didn’t know what the hell you were doing, and that was an understatement. You spent hours wandering around the map, accidentally starting fights with random NPC’s and big ass rats which you’d run away from immediately because you weren’t about to die, you wouldn’t let that happen to yourself. You tried to get the hang of fishing, which… props to Belphie… you didn’t understand it. You weren’t catching shit, and the couple times that you did, it was nothing but shrimp. An entire ocean full of bottom feeders, which wasn’t a problem, aside from the fact that your pockets were filled to the brim with shrimp… that you tried to cook but you aren’t very good at that… so then it just became filled with burnt shrimp that you couldn’t eat and you didn’t know how to drop either.

By the time the date rolled around… you weren’t any better off than you were when you first started. You only went up like one level in fishing and you weren’t even sure how that happened, but it took about five hours. Your stats were a solid 0 on everything else, and you were still stacked with burnt shrimp… so all in all things were going great in the game and you hadn’t died yet.

“Alright so… you have to add me first…” He said, and he honestly had the patience of a saint because, like everything else in the game, you didn’t know what the fuck you were doing. “Do you know how to do that?” He asked after a couple seconds in which you were staring at the screen and trying to figure out what to push to add him.

“Nope…” And as much as you tried to laugh it off, you felt like a freaking idiot. He chuckled lightly, guiding you through what should have been the easiest task. Once you had added him, man you felt so cool. You did that… with help… but you did that.

“Okay, now… you have to do the spell to get you to the castle. It’s like the teleport thing… it was in the tutorial.” The tutorial, that you had already almost completely forgotten about… except the part where you made bread. For some reason that really stuck with you. “The spell book, it should be on the left side… do you see it?”

“Oh… OH! Yeah I see it!” Finding the spell book was simple, but figuring out how to actually teleport was so confusing for some reason. You realized that triple clicking was, in fact, not helping at all. You only needed to click once and then your character would go through the motions and then they’d teleport. “OH I got it! Okay… coming to the castle… okay… Oh I’m here!”

“There you are! You’re doing great. Okay… now just… first we’re gonna go to the bank and you can put all your stuff in there. So just… follow me. Do you know how to do that?” No, no you did not… but you said that you did because you didn’t want to seem like more of an idiot than you already felt. He already knew that you didn’t though, apparently the fact that you didn’t know how to use your magic or how to add a friend made it pretty clear that you wouldn’t know how to follow his character, so he quickly ran down how to do that too, which was such a big help, he doesn’t even know. “Alright, and when you get to the stairs, you’re gonna have to click that you want to go up.”

“Right… the stairs… got it!” The fact that you wanted to clap for yourself when you successfully went up the stairs just goes to show how much you don’t understand about the game. “Okay… I’m at the top… Oh wait, I have to follow you again… Okay… Okay I got it.” The fact that he wasn’t annoyed yet was shocking, and you constantly felt the need to apologize for being so clueless about what to do. You were glad to know that he couldn’t hear the constant clicking of your mouse as you tried to figure out where exactly to click to actually do something. “Alright… my bag is empty… now what….”

“You have to keep your sword and your shield… just those two… the sword and the shield. And then I’m gonna trade with you… You’re gonna need a lot of food, and I need to get rid of these lobsters.” You nodded to yourself, quickly putting the sword and shield back before closing the window and facing his character again. You didn’t know how trading worked at all, you didn’t know if a window was supposed to show up or what… but you waited, and even if you felt like a complete fool, just being able to spend with him like this, it made you happy and even if he couldn’t see you, you were smiling the entire time.

Once you finally figured out how to trade and you were stocked with lobsters, that’s when the real fun began. “Okay… now you’re ready. Do you want to fight the goblins or the cows?” You paused for a second, and you really had to think about it for a second. Cows or goblins…? You didn’t want to fight the goblins because you just assumed that they would be stronger (even though after playing for a bit and raising your own level you realized that they were the same strength as a fucking cow… weak ass goblins), but you really didn’t want to fight the cows… for obvious reasons, but you just assumed they’d be weaker, so you chose them anyway.

“So I just… I just click on the cow?” You asked after he led you to the little gated off area with the cows, and he hummed in agreement, standing back a little as you found the “right” cow to start fighting. “And this’ll raise my strength?”

“Yeah, but you should probably work at your shield first so… try changing your attack…” And there it was again… something you didn’t know how to do, which, again, he knew very well that you didn’t know how to do it. “Alright, you see the swords on the left side of the screen? The little button with the swords? Click that… and then change your attack mode to the one for shielding….” As if you’d know which one that is, but you were gonna wing it and hope that you picked the right one. You knew that he wouldn’t judge you for not knowing, at least not to your face.

The amount of damage that these cows delivered almost made you not feel bad for absolutely beating the shit out of them with the weak ass beginners sword that you had. “Oh my… fuck… do you hear my button clicking?” You asked while rapidly smashing the button on your mouse. You hoped he didn’t, but god, even to you it sounded loud and you had earphones on. “It just keeps doing damage to me but I can’t fucking hit it?!”

“Your stats aren’t high enough yet.” He said in between his laughter. If Levi was there he’d definitely be judging you right now. You were getting your ass handed to you by a fucking level 2 cow, how ridiculous is that?! “Just raise your shield more and then you can choose another attack method to raise your strength. You should at least get them all to five.” Five was a pretty high number to aim for considering you were only getting like 2xp everytime you even hit the cow, but, even if it took forever, you’d have him there with you.

It turned into the both of you just shooting the shit while you went around and murdered every single cow, occasionally being prompted by Belphie to eat a lobster before you die… and you probably should have used the wicked sweet one liner of “wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gotten killed by a cow”, but you were too busy to think of it while killing the cows yourself. You were too busy talking and rapidly clicking at the cow to realize that your health was low, and before you knew it you were dealing with death, who is legitimately the most annoying, talkative fucking character in the game.

“Oh shit… you died?”

“Yeah and Death won’t shut up. He just… oh my god… shut up.” You whined softly, much to Belphies amusement. Every time you tried to leave Deaths weird ass portal cave he kept calling you back to tell you more which only annoyed you further, which in turn had Belphie laughing which was your favorite sound aside from his actual talking… so maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

“I told you to eat the lobsters. That’s why I gave them to you.” He was still laughing as he told you the reasoning behind the lobster trade, and you couldn’t help but laugh with him. You hadn’t had this much fun since you were actually down in the Devildom with him.

“I'm gonna fuck these cows up.”

“And eat the lobsters while doing it.” He added, which made you snort quietly… even though he heard it and proceeded to laugh even more. You had never heard him laugh so much, and as much as you hated the fact that you couldn’t be there with him in person to see him, you still got to hear him laugh, which was the most you could ask for at this point.

Neither of you had realized how long you had been playing until you heard Beel come in the room through Belphies mic, clearly scaring him because you could hear the sharp gasp and then the quiet mumble of “fucking Beel…” before he actually acknowledged his twin.

“Ah shit… Hey, Beel wants to go get some Akudonalds…” Belphie said, and while you knew that you couldn’t stay in a call or play the game forever, it was always hard whenever the calls ended for the night. “Keep playing though… level up more…”

“Yeah, maybe I’ll get on your level.” You teased, and you heard him scoff again and you were pretty sure he rolled his eyes. He and you both knew that even making it halfway to his level would take forever, but if it meant being able to play with him again, you’d do your best to get halfway to halfway there. “I’ll talk to you later…”

“Well duh… I’m not leaving forever, dork. I’m going to get some chicken nuggets. I’ll text you when I get back.” He sighed softly. “We’ll have to do this again though… And try to go to bed at a decent hour. Please. I’ll visit you in your dreams if you do-”

“I’m hanging up now and going to bed! I’ll be asleep by the time you get back with your nuggets! Goodnight!” You quickly hung up, and just as you were about to close everything out on your computer and actually go to bed, you saw him typing.

“You’re such a dork… I’ll be there soon. Goodnight 💙”

[yeojaa]

ANGELS & AIRWAVES (w. jjk)

He's never met you but you know how he sounds when he wakes up from a nap and his greatest fears.  You know the way he sings after a shower and that he could be mistaken for a dying seal when he's laughing too hard.  The best part?  You don't judge him for any of it - including the fact he's a filthy Widow main.  He might just love you.

alt summary.  Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met.

pairing.  jeon jungkook

genre + rating.  fluffy crack. general, for now.

warning / tags.  long-distance relationship, crushes, canon compliant (ish),  eventual happy ending, gaming, gamer!jungkook, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, overwatch.  tags are hard.  :( 

reading.   n/a.  a three part one-shot.

word count.  ~3400

part i.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Sunday, 10 November, 2019.  2:13 AM.

It’s 2:13 AM when Jeon Jungkook finally finds a match, the familiar in-game sound dragging his attention away from the illuminated screen of his iPhone to the monitor before him.  He studies the SR - 3779 and 3761, respectively - and skims burning eyes across the members on each team.  Four rocks, including himself, and two Masters.

One of them has a strange name - BIGMELON - that he stares at until he's zoning out, trying to make sense of it.  Was his teammate a pervert or just hilarious?

"Good luck and have fun, everyone!"  

Your cheer filters through his headphones crystal clear but he's somehow still surprised, head tilting curiously to the side.  He hadn't expected a girl to be playing Overwatch at quarter past two in the morning.

When there's no response - he notices no one else is in the voice chat, an oddity for such a high ranking game - he takes it upon himself to keep you company.  His username lights up as his finger glides across the ALT key, sleep-worn words breaking the silence.

"Thanks, you too."

Nothing follows until BIGMELON appears once again in the upper left-hand corner of his screen.  You have a nice voice, he thinks.  "Are you sticking with Widow?"

Jungkook takes in the team comp:  Sigma, Hog, Genji, and Lucio.  A little unconventional but not wholly un-doable.  They're on King's Row, too, which is one of his favourite maps.  Balanced enough that people aren't too salty when they get headshot but with enough coverage that he can get clear picks.  

"Should I?"

"If you want."  A pause and your hero slot is filled with Mercy's portrait.  "I can damage boost."

He thinks he can hear the teasing.  It's soft and sweet and a little rough - like you'd just woken up.  

"Who says I need it?"  Comes his immediate response, question chased out of his mouth by a laugh he can't help.  It echoes, filling the quiet of his bedroom.  He hopes you don't take it the wrong way.

"O—kay, Widow main.  We'll see if you get anything from me."

It's an empty threat because you're giggling along with him.  It's distracting in the strangest way.  The sound bounces around in his ears and he can't help but focus on it, realizing belatedly that he's still sitting in spawn as the timer runs down for setting up defence.  

"Are you going to join us?"  You quip, emoting right beside his stationary sniper.  "I didn't queue just to have someone go AFK."  

Mischief colours your words and he laughs again, snorting as he finally presses W.  Two sets of footsteps echo in game and he presses SHIFT once he's hit point - and with just a few seconds left to spare - launching Widowmaker's body onto the balcony overwatching it.  Mercy follows, Guardian Angel carrying her into the air to alight behind the blue-skinned hero.  

As the timer hits 0:01, Jungkook right-clicks, scoping in on the second-floor spawn door.

BOOM.

The kill feed reads DDEOKKOOKI x STRIKER007.

"I guess you didn't need the damage boost."  

He can't help the sound he makes - a marriage between a witch's shriek and a pig's snort.  It leaps out of his mouth, louder than he intends, and he feels equally bad for you and his hyungs.  He's definitely going to get an earful in the morning - or any minute now, when one of them bursts into his room to berate him for being so loud.  "I told you."

"Yeah, yeah."  The way you speak has him grinning from ear to ear, nose scrunching in amusement.  Mercy is flying across the map, healing stream trained on Genji as the cyborg ninja just narrowly misses an errant Hanzo arrow and dashes back to point.  "I'm gonna take care of the rest of our team.  Let me know if you need anything, O' Headshot God."

You're clowning him hard but he knows it's all in good fun.  Still, he likes the nickname and decides to keep it, effectively picking off the attacking team's stealthily half-hidden Junkrat and Ana right after. 

"Show-off!"   

Then he's dinked in the head - health dropping to 30 from the partially-charged shot.  He needs heals like yesterday.

Unfortunately, Lucio is up at choke with the tanks, skating circles around the base of the statue as they hold point.  Jungkook doesn't see you immediately - he’s scanning his screen for your witch skin (of course) - only realizing you've appeared at his side when his health bar begins to climb.  "Try to stay alive, yeah?"

"My bad,"  he drawls, scoping in the same instant the kill feed announces two more enemy deaths. 

There are only a critical Reinhardt and protected Zarya left.  The former falls the moment he drops shield and her bubble doesn't reset in time;  the Russian tank dies in the next instant, his charged shot firing the moment it hits 100%.  

"Thanks for the damage boost."

"Any time."

Then you're gone, off to support the rest of your team again while he grapples onto a different ledge and continues his oppressive gameplay.  He feels a little bad when the opposing team goes double shield tank and swaps their Junkrat for a Pharah.  He feels less so when he's slept out of nowhere. Four seconds feels like an eternity when he’s out in the open - vulnerable as a baby lamb in a den of lions.

"Looks like you're really making them mad."  You'd been relatively quiet when not tending to him - likely because it was only the two of you in voice chat - and he startles when your comment breaks the quiet lofi he has going in the background. 

"I don't know why.  I'm just having fun."  He's lying.  You're laughing.  

"Too much fun, I think."  

"Maybe they should be better."  Jungkook says this like he's commenting on the weather or the colour of the sky - offhand and nonchalant.  It makes your giggles come harder.  He can hear the scratch of your mic as if you've doubled over and it's now pressed into cotton clothing.  He can't help but pat himself on the back.

"Please don't tell me you're going to 'gg ez' them when we're done."

Now he's feigned offense, gasping at the mere thought.  "Of course not.  I'm not that rude!"

"Well, you never know."  You're right.  People could be the worst when it came to online gaming, spewing vitriol and hurling insults the moment their egos were bruised (or inflated). 

"I promise I'm not an asshole."  He's not really sure why he feels the need to make this abundantly clear.  After all, he'd probably never play with you again.  Korea's density of players was just too great - you were just one in hundreds, thousands, millions. 

Still, he smiles when you reassure him you don't think he is.  "I'm just teasing.  You seem nice."

"I am nice."  Spoken in the same instance he lands two consecutive headshots - one on the bouncing, wall-riding enemy Lucio and the other on the momentarily grounded Pharah.  You must see that, because you're mocking him in that dulcet tone of yours, caramel coating words and turning them soft like toffee. 

"Not according to them."  And not that you mind, it seems, because you're damage boosting him as he catches their out-of-position Rein in his sight.  He whoops in triumph, eliciting another bemused sound from you. 

"You know they're going to do everything to counter you when we go on attack."  Which was in sub-one minute, the timer counting down the last thirty seconds of your team's defense. 

"Who says I'm going Widow again?"  

You're scandalized.  "You mean you're not just a filthy Widow main?"

For a moment, Jungkook wonders if this is how his older members feel when he (and Jimin and Taehyung) mercilessly rib them.  He thinks it must be and oh, how the tables have turned.  He decides he doesn't really mind, though.  It's all innocent fun and it's keeping him awake, aided by the cold brew he'd chugged at midnight. 

"Woah - says the Mercy player?"

"Mercy is a respectable support, okay!"

"Sure, e-girl."  

"Take that back!"  How the words explode out of his headphones makes him momentarily worry he might've overstepped but by the way your laughter chases it forward, he knows he hasn't.  You can take it just as well as you can dish it.  

"Okay, okay.  You're a not bad healer."  Because he hasn't died yet and last he checked, neither had your tanks.  Genji had once or twice - to be expected, given his playstyle - and you had, but that was still pretty respectable.

He can practically hear you rolling your eyes.  "Oh, thanks."  

"Any time, BigMelon."  

"That's ‘daebak’ to you, pal."  Had he heard you wrong?

"What'd you say?"  

There's a long pause - he's not sure whether it's for comedic purpose or something else.  You sound muffled on the other end, as if you're repressing sound.  "Because watermelon?  Su-bak?  So big melon is dae-bak?"  Whatever you had stifled earlier disappears, torn away by the pride that shines bright yellow and boisterous in your peals of laughter.

It's such a bad joke that Jungkook feels like he's about to have an aneurysm.  Were you Jin moonlighting as a Master support player? 

"You're kidding me."  He wonders if you hear him above your own glee, giggles making it hard for him to hear himself think.  "What're you - a dad?"

You scoff now, parroting his words back to him.  "What're you - the pun police?"  

Another one?

He briefly considers ALT + F4-ing his way out of this match and away from your corniness.  Considers it but ultimately decides against it, instead remaining stoically silent and choosing McCree when the hero selection screen slides into place.  His silence will surely speak volumes.  

"You know that was funny!"  By the way he can practically hear your pout - it's endearing, much to his chagrin - he thinks you know where he stands.  

"Not the word I'd use."

"You just have bad taste, McCree."  You say it scathingly yet full of mirth, a sniff punctuating the end of your rebuttal. 

"Do not!"  He returns, just as quickly.  

"Prove it.  Laugh at my joke!"  You're shameless, confident, reassured - it makes him chuckle.  

You take it as his surrender though, your own laughter blending seamlessly with his.  It goes on for longer than is strictly speaking necessary, crowding like cotton balls in his ears as you leave sprays of your hero - Ana this time - across the spawn walls.  He wrecks every one of yours with his own, BAMF displayed in 1440p. 

"Hey - stop that!"  It doesn't matter that the round is about to start - you're spamming your melee button into him.  He immediately does it back, toggling between that and his voice line. 

The rest of your team is probably wondering what the hell you're both doing.  

"Stop distracting me!"  He barks into his mic, deep dimples on full display, nose scrunched adorably.  He doesn't really mind - it's clear by his hyena cackles that follow - and he likes when your chorus of shut up's pitch and leap with your giggling. 

As he navigates McCree out behind your tanks, he can't help but wish - maybe a little selfishly - that they'll lose this round and go into a best of three.  When the opposing team's healers both die - one to Ashe's dynamite and the other to Zarya's high-charged beam - he knows that's not going to happen.  Your team's going to cap point and then you're going to be gone - off to the next game and never to be matched with again.

"We did it, McCree."  You sound deeply pleased as the last of the defenders fall, leaving point uncontested.  The Lucio on your team lingers by the choke, ready to boop any last minute hoodlums;  Echo hovers just above the enemy’s spawn, dealing damage the moment any hero comes in view.  One of your tanks is already emoting.

VICTORY flashes across his screen.  

"We sure did, BigMelon."

The cards come next - they're all for your team, though he isn't surprised.  You'd gotten 37 defensive assists whereas he had 27% Infra-Sight uptime.  He's sure you both vote for each other, the remaining four going to your other support's Sound Barrier casts.  

"Thanks for the carry."  He doesn't mean it facetiously.  This is some of the most fun he's had in-game in ages.

"You're welcome,"  you chirp.  He thinks you'll leave right after.

Instead, you both sit in voice chat in silence, watching the timer in the upper right-hand corner. 

"Do you want to duo?"  You ask in the same instance he does, breaking the both of you into a fit of laughter.  It's more distracting than he realizes, the FINDING MATCH countdown replacing the end game statistics while you’re both still cackling.

Luckily, you invite him to a group right as he removes himself from queue.

JUNGKOOK’S ROOM Tuesday, 24 December, 2019.  11 PM.

It’s six weeks and a good three dozen games later - a feat for him, considering how much of his time is eaten up by literally every other obligation he has - when he asks for your name, not realizing the consequences of his action.  

“Most people call me Jinny.”  He thinks it fits you, bright and pretty and punchy.  “What’s your name?”

Jungkook's unprepared for the question, though he shouldn’t be.  Of course you’d want to know.  Anyone would, if they’d already given their own answer.

He's silent for the longest time, quiet stretching on and on over group voice chat.  He applauds you for your patience, how you don't press him on it when the hesitation has descended from appropriate to downright awkward.

"Uh."  The word drops like a weight, crashing through the tentative friendship you've built over the past weeks.  

"You don't have to tell me,"  you supply as softly as he's ever heard you.  It's the first time you've seemed uncertain - and it bothers him that he's the reason.  "I get that we haven't known each other that long."  

As if that's actually the issue.  He would've told you the night you spent four hours together, taking wins left and right, filling the time in between matches with silly banter that had his jaw aching from laughter.  He would’ve told you on that random Thursday, when you’d listened to him talk about his busy day, effortlessly keeping him occupied - and amused - while your SR nearly descended below 3500.  He would’ve even told you yesterday, when you’d said you were going to bed, only to be roped into another six games by Jungkook’s eagerness.

It has absolutely nothing to do with time - or the lack thereof.

But he can't say that - can't tell you who he really is - so he improvises as best he can.  "My friends call me Jay."

"Jay, huh?"  You turn the sound over on your tongue, like you're tasting it for the first time, trying to decide whether you love it or hate it.  He hopes you don’t hate it.  "Then I guess we're the best J-duo to ever exist."

"Woah, we?"  He's only doing it to rile you up, finding it cute when you huff and puff and threaten to let him die in-game.  You never make good on the threat anyway;  you just like to see him sweat, watching as his health bar drops to measly single digits.  "I don't think I agreed to that."  

It's your turn to mock him, that same edge turning your words into sour candy.  "Fine.  You can find yourself a new healer.  We'll see how your SR likes that, Bronzie boy!"  

Neither of you really take the game that seriously but he gasps like he's been shot.  

"No!  Don't leave me with them!"  The way he howls the plea is enough to return you both to your rightful place - one filled with boisterous laughter and things he never thought would see the light of day.

Because somehow, he's found somewhere he feels safe - a place he feels like himself, with no pretenses or expectations.  It’s where he can rant and rave, bouncing from topic to topic like an energizer bunny with no end in sight.  It’s, oddly enough, with you.  

Connected through voice chat and built by an endless stream of communication - sometimes productive, other times not - the space you’ve carved out together has come to feel like a third home.  It isn’t quite what he has with his family or his members but it’s just as nice.

Different, but nice.

"Fine.  You're forgiven."  You sniff in that peculiar way of yours and he snickers loudly.  "How was your day?"

And this is why it is - because it's ordinary.  It’s where Jungkook can rest his head and drift for a while without worry of what’s over the horizon, ready to swallow him whole the moment he takes his eyes off the calm blue sea.  He's not raised on a pedestal with you, all the weight of his choices resting on his shoulders.  He's just a normal guy playing games.  

It might not make up for all the years of normalcy he's missed out on - the movies after school, the street markets on weekends, the holiday parties with classmates - but it's enough.  

He eats it up like he's been starved of it.

"Busy.  Really busy.  I had dance practice all afternoon and forgot to eat so I'm dying now."  There'd been a time - about three weeks in - when he'd chosen his words more carefully.  He'd been worried he might let something slip but he's found what feels like the sweet spot now, where he can tell you about his day without thinking he’ll suddenly shatter the image you have of him.

It's not always easy - he has to remember to never mention names or intimate details - but it's better than nothing.  He can finally tell someone about his day like he wants - all of the good and the bad, too.

"You should make something to eat!"

He's used to your reprimands but he still laughs, crossing his long legs beneath him as he readjusts in his computer chair.  "But we're in queue."

"Jay!"  It comes out devoid of static, clear as the waning sunshine that filters through his blinds and reflects particles of dust that drift lazily through his bedroom.

"I'll make something after we win."  He knows what you're thinking - that he's gone and jinxed your whole night.  You’re weirdly superstitious, something he's learned only recently.

As if right on cue:  "Shut up!"  

Your words sweep his expression up with glee and giddiness, like a kid on Christmas morning;  lines dig themselves into the bridge of his nose and the delicate skin beneath his eyes.  Jungkook tells himself it’s the usual pre-game jitters but he knows it’s more than that.  

It’s you and that infectious giggle that careens through his headphones, making him see everything in a pretty haze of warmth.

He’s not sure when you’d started having this particular effect on him - maybe since the beginning? - but he feels it now, clearer than ever.  Every tinkling laugh makes his heart speed up, thump around his chest like a baseball missing its mark.  The sight of you logging in elicits the biggest, possibly dorkiest smile, all slightly too-big front teeth and deep dimples.  You have him rushing through his post-practice showers and devouring dinner in half the time he usually would just to get online a minute more quickly.  

There's just something about you. 

And sure - a part of him wonders whether it's all in his head (as if it could be anywhere else).  Wonders if he's seeing you through rose-tinted glasses, doing to you what so many do to him.  Was he in over his head, praying to a deity that didn't even know he existed?  

Sometimes it felt that way - a little out of reach, like childhood crushes and summer love and wishing upon a star.  Certainly far too much for a blossoming friendship of just a month and a half.  

But then you laugh and it's Pop Rocks fizzling in his stomach and he knows that no - it's there and it's real.

Jeon Jungkook has a big fat crush on a girl he's never met. 

notes. ��i love overwatch and i love jeon jeongguk.  what more can i say?  :)