#i always find AT LEAST one friend who recognizes him!!!!

[syblei-art]

stop praying for the strange wizard in the tower he's gotten too strong

[quietwingsinthesky]

the amount of time i spend thinking about Even carrying the metacrisis doctor’s fob watch is really quite disproportionate to how much ive fleshed out that part of the story in my head

[readwritealldayallnight]

I would love a take on boyfriend Ghost coming home to surprise you, but he finds your bed empty and doesn't realize that you are in his room in his bed. Thanks.

The placebo effect, was what he kept trying to convince you it had to be, no matter how many times you rolled your eyes and told him he was wrong

How else could one explain your insistence that Simon’s bed smelled so much like him, becoming your safe space when he was away on long deployments, when he only ever slept with you in your bed most nights to begin with

Hard to believe it was nearly three years ago now that you’d told your friend since childhood, Johnny, about how your search for a new flat was going miserably. You remember how he’d perked up and recounted with a mischievous glint in his eye about how his Lieutenant was apparently searching for a flat mate at the moment, someone who’d be looking after the place while he was away for work

Unsure about living with a strange man you’d never met before, but trusting Johnny’s judgement (though the way he seemed just a bit too eager about this meeting did kind of throw you off-) you had reluctantly agreed to meet with him and at least give the flat a glance before you simply turned him down

It wasn’t until you were knocking at the door of the address Johnny had written down for you, that you’d realized he’d never even given you the man’s goddamn name, only ever referring to him at Lieutenant or LT

Johnny apparently also failed to mention the absolute SIZE of the guy, his huge frame blocking nearly all of the light from behind him as he had swung the door open and stood in the doorway before you

In a slight panic, thrown off by the massive man before you and the way the butterflies in your stomach suddenly began to flutter at the sight of him, you had greeted him for the first time with a squeaky, unsure voice saying ‘Um, hi, are you the Mr Lieutenant?’ (something he has never let you live down since)

He knew then and there that you would be the one

Not just his flatmate (though what a generous flatmate he was when he offered insisted on moving all your boxes out of your old place and into his that very same day), but the one, something he reluctantly had to give Soap credit for, seeing as he was the one who wouldn’t stop talking his ear off about you

You would be his other half, his better half

And all these years later, the two bedroom flat truly only acted as a one bedroom, considering that from the start Simon was always falling into your bed with you at the end of each night, limbs tangled together under the warmth of a lovers embrace a thousand times more comforting than an actual comforter

Still though, that first time Simon had to be gone for work longer than a few weeks, you found the lingering odor of him clinging to his bedsheets to be one of the few things keeping you sane in his absence, taking to sleeping in his room for the time being, imagining that the pillow you cling to your front was a strong muscular arm instead, littered in scars and tattoos you feel confident you could recognize from touch alone

And when his long awaited flight back home to you landed a few hours earlier than expected, tires touching down in the dark, stillness of late night hour, he decided he’d surprise you and come straight home, rather than calling you to meet him at the base like you’d insisted, not wanting to wake you

Barely able to contain himself, he decided the elevator ride up to the seventh floor would take too long, take away precious seconds that brought him closer to you, and so up the flight of stairs he went, taking them two or three at a time, rushing to see the face etched behind his eyelids every time he closed his eyes, to hear the voice that haunted his dreams each night

Quietly as a man his size could, he crept into the flat, snuck his way into your room, expecting to see your sweet, sleeping form cuddled up amongst the blankets and pillows. But his heart dropped when he noticed the bed was still perfectly made, not a thread out of place.

Trying to remain calm, though his mind was instantly swarming with every possible scenario that could have taken place, he knew he saw your shoes and jacket by the door, you couldn’t have gone far… but where were you?

He glanced into the living room, wondering if he missed you sleeping on the couch after a long day, he poked his head into the bathroom, even went so far as to check the small balcony, but finally there was only one door left to open.

And there you were, safe and sound, a tiny ball curled up into the center of his huge bed, clinging to one of his old masks and holding it close to your chest as though it were a security blanket (you’d been sleeping in his bed so much you needed something that still smelled strongly of him, you were getting desperate)

Stripping himself down to only his boxers, he tiptoed towards the side of the bed, his mind finally feeling more at peace than he ever had, gently pulling the sheets back just enough for him to slip in behind you, his strong arms wrapping around your middle and pulling you into his muscular chest

Though it should be alarming to suddenly feel a pair of hands roaming over your skin, a body holding you firmly against their own, it’s as though your body knows who it is before your mind does

Any tension you were still holding onto during his absence instantly melts away, your own hands coming to land over top of his, giving a slight squeeze of acknowledgment, not yet willing to fully leave your half asleep state, but needing to touch him, to confirm he really is here

“Hmm,” You hum, voice groggy with sleep and a smile slowly stretching across your lips, snuggling further into his embrace. “You’re home.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, breathing you in, wishing he could bottle up the scent of your shampoo and lotions and perfumes, if only to have something to hold onto while he’s away, understanding now why he found you in this bed rather than your own

“I am.” He whispers into your hair, sensing that you’re already drifting back into dream land, safe in his arms and his bed, knowing he’ll be there when you wake. He feels his chest tighten when he knows that you weren’t talking about the fact that he’s physically home, in the flat, but something more, something much more, because he means the same thing when he tells you, “You’re my home too, love.”

[a-b-riddle]

Part Four

Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.

"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.

"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."

"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.

"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."

You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.

"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.

Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.

It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.

It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.

In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.

"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."

"You think it was a stunt?"

"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."

"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."

"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."

"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."

"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."

You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.

You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.

"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”

For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.

Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?

"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.

You were finally angry.

[vividxpages]

✩˚౨ৎ˚✩‧The Great War PART 1 ✩₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧

PART 2 + PART 3

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 1700

summary: Jace and you are lovers, but stand on opposite sides of the war, not allowed to see each other anymore. But love always finds a way. (inspired by “The Great War” by Taylor Swift)

warnings: angst, reader is Alicents's daughter, the Greens being a bad family, hurt/comfort!, kissing

a/n: help, I'm obsessed with this boy and every song starts to sound like a possible fic idea for him!!!

𓆩♡𓆪

All that bloodshed, crimson clover Uh-huh, sweet dream was over My hand was the one you reached for All throughout the Great War

Sometimes, you could only breathe above the clouds.

Up here on your dragon’s back, the trouble you left behind underneath you did not matter anymore. You thought of the castle that slowly poisoned you from the inside, the dark nights where you thought you were completely alone in the world with no comfort in reach but the memories you carried with yourself.

Once there had been laughter at the dinner table, the halls filled with the family you had not seen in months. Now, you only saw your brothers and your mother together in one room during council. You shuddered at the memory of today’s meeting, snuggling deeper into the saddle and closer to the dragon who kept you safe in the sky.

(“Maybe we should send our dear sister.” Your brother Aegon had proposed at some frustrating point of an endless council, taking a deep swig from the wine glass in front of him.

You had simply stared at him, silent. No one was really listening to you anyway and you were past the point of turning to your mother pleadingly. She was just as silent, always frowning, always doing nothing. “What do you mean, Aegon?”

“We can weaken them from the inside.” He had spoken to the others then, who at least looked so confused as you had felt. “Send them my little precious sister who a certain bastard son always had a weak spot for. I don’t see the problem if you kill him while you’re fuck-“

Your chair had screeched over the floor and fell down with a loud thud on the stone floor. You had clenched your hands into fists as you stood, fury in your eyes.

“Aegon, stop with such nonsense.” Alicent had said quietly, but it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. You fled.)

You welcomed the tears on your cheeks like an old friend, letting them cool your skin as you stirred your dragon through the sky, opting to just turn right and never come back to Westeros.

But oh, how your heart still clung to them.

The family up north in the realm, the family you had lost forever in the middle of his conflict.

Suddenly, you felt your dragon tense and directed your attention to the west, where a shape of a big shadow flickered through the clouds. Your mind began to race with what you’d do if Aemond had followed you, always being damned to bring you back when you had strayed too far away from Kings Landing.

But this shadow was not big enough to be Vhagar.

And those dark curls did not belong to your brother.

You gasped as your dragon let out a recognizing screech, lunging forwards through the clouds until you and the other rider could almost touch at how close your beasts were.

Time seemed to slow down as they flew past each other, teasingly snapping at each other’s necks with the joy of being reunited, but there was no doubt. As you raced through the skies, you looked into your Jace’s eyes.

You let out a broken gasp and quickly looked over your shoulder, but he and Vermax were already out of reach, descending down beneath the clouds. And suddenly, you knew where he was going. You spurned your dragon on, the wind cutting into your skin as you raced after them, faster and faster until you let your dragon spread its wings for a quick landing by the beach Jacaerys had chosen.

Only the silver moonlight illuminated the shore by the cliffs, void of any other soul who could witness the forbidden reunion between the two of you. If you had been in company, Jacaerys would’ve already been dead or held captive.

But you were alone, for the first time in months.

You slid down your dragon’s back, nearly blind by the need to reach him, to throw yourself into his arms like you had dreamed so often.

When you had seen each other for the last time, there had not been a war yet.

And Luke had been still alive.

(You had cried for hours when Aemond had returned, blood still drying on Vhagar’s massive teeth. You had begged your mother to write a letter, just a simple letter to Jace, but everything at court had still been too fragile to do anything but be in shock over what had happened up there. It had nearly driven you mad, to know that somewhere Jace was suffering the loss of his little brother and there was nothing you could do to comfort him.)

Now, he was right there in front of you, leaving Vermax behind him and running towards you on the wet sand by the water. You broke out into a sprint as well, a disbelieving laugh that was anything but amused leaving your tight throat as his features became more and more clear to you.

You crashed together like two waves.

The embrace was nearly violent as his arms slung themselves around you, lifting you up and pressing you into him. There was no strength in your bones anymore and if Jace wouldn’t have held you so tightly, you would’ve crashed onto the ground, shattering into a million pieces.

Only Jace was holding you together right now.

He was everything you had been missing in those terrible weeks. He smelled like sea and wind and smoke and your hands shook as you combed through his wet curls, your tear-streaked face securely hidden in his neck.

You never wanted to let go of him and it seemed like the feeling was mutual.

“Gods- my love…” He mumbled into your ear and you let out a choked sob as you held each other. It was like he could not decide where he wanted to touch you first. His hands drifted over you restlessly, up and down your spine, holding onto you as if you could disappear again at any moment.

“How did you find me?” You asked breathlessly, your bottom lip still trembling dangerously as you caressed his cheeks, needing to refamiliarize yourself with the feel of his skin on yours.

He swallowed thickly, unshed tears glistening in his beautiful years. “I remembered the route you liked to take when you needed to stop thinking. And it’s cloudy today. No one saw me coming. I’ve been waiting for a cloudy night like this for weeks-“

His voice broke and you pulled him closer again, shudders of pain and longing and relief to be with him going through you in an endless loop. How much had changed since the last time you had seen eye to eye: Your father had always said you’d make a good match back then and now Jace had one brother less and you were a captive in your own home.

“I missed you so much.” You whispered, resting your head on his shoulder as you both looked out on the ocean. “I- oh Jace, I tried to write, I wanted to send you a letter, but- I wasn’t allowed. I couldn’t help you and-“

“It’s okay.” He said, but it sounded lifeless, void. “It’s not your fault. I wished I could’ve been there for you too. I know how much you loved Luke.”

Gods, you wanted to cry and never stop again. Even now, Jace was trying to be strong for you, as he had always been.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I love you.” He told you and cupped your cheek, looking deeply and longingly into your eyes. “I missed you every second we’ve been apart. Have you been treated well? Have Aegon and Aemond-“

“I love you too. I want to come with you.” You interrupted him fiery and he shuddered at the insane idea of it, the consequences unimaginable and likely deadly for one of you. “Please, please, let me come with you, I can’t stay a single day there, my mother is not the same anymore and- my brothers have been horrible with the things they want to do to Rhaenyra and you.”

He shushed you gently, drawing his arms tighter around you and swaying you back and forth. “I’ll find a way. I’m not letting you stay there alone for much longer, my love. It makes me sick to think about you being alone in Kings Landing, believe me, but…mother says it’s not safe, not yet-“

“I won’t cause your family any trouble, I promise-“

“It’s not us we’re fearing for.” He smiled sadly at you. “It’s you. I won’t summon your brother’s anger on you. I’d rather take it on myself, but- we need to be a little more patient, okay?”

You could see how much effort those words cost him and you had no doubt if it was his choice to make, he’d take you with him to Dragonstone and never look back. You watched his throat bump with tension, his jaw set, his lips pressed together tightly.

A sudden small smile danced over your face. “So you only came to me tonight because you wanted to see me?”

His eyes were dark with longing, with wanton he could not give in to, not tonight. “My love...I needed to see you.” His thumb lovingly brushed over your cheek, the pad of it briefly touching your lips.

There was so much you wanted to say, so many things you needed to tell him and hear from him, but in this short moment you were only a girl and he was a boy. Your boy.

 He met you right in the middle, delicately holding your face between his hands as your lips met, desperately kissing you as his taste exploded in your mouth once again. He kissed you drunk, enveloping all your senses until all you felt was him. His lips were dry and salty from the long flight over the clouds and along the coast, your runny noses sliding against each other, but it was perfect.

Your heart was mended with every little sigh into your mouth, his long lashes brushing over your cheeks, your hands tangling in his hair…

You thought that maybe, in another lifetime, the two of you could’ve been able to stop the war.

Another part of you knew that you always had been damned, cursed.

You blinked into the starless grey sky above you as Jace began to ravish your neck with wet kisses and you thought of the old saying passed on from generation to generation.

Every time a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin.

On which side would yours land if you ever lost him?

On which would his land when it finally sank in that he could never have you?

[not-neverland06]

Hey! Love your writing and love Flux!! I was hoping to request a kind of angsty/fluffy fic with the worst!wolverine where the meet her in the void and maybe Logan knew her just not very well and he’s finally letting himself open up and be close with her (likewise with reader/flux towards logan) and they get into an argument or maybe logan has a nightmare and he ends up stabbing her with his claws and maybe the aftermath of him beating himself up and sabotaging the new relationship until reader finally snaps him out of it and says it was an accident and she still loves him?? Thanks!!

mistake

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

a/n: I want to thank you for this request because I've been having the worst writer's block in the world. I was worried about having to go into another unofficial hiatus, but this made something in my brain click together and I knocked it out in two hours. my life is yours 🙏🙏 Summary: You know him. Or, you knew him. And you never blamed him for what happened in your world. It wasn't his fault that everyone you loved died and you barely escaped with your life. But you never actually thought you'd have to see him again. You don't know what to do when all these feelings resurface with his appearance.

No one truly knew who you were back in your universe. After the horrific incident at the mansion, you had run. You’d run as fast and as far as you could from the slaughter of your friends. You’d barely escaped with your life, and from the amount of blood and gore they’d left behind, most people just assumed you were dead. 

It’s not like anyone cared about you. Scott, Ororo, and Jean had been the real heroes. But it didn’t matter because they were still mutants at the end of the day. It didn’t matter how many people they saved. How many lives they positively changed, no one would ever see past the fact that they were mutants. 

Being one of the newer members of the recently disbanded X-Men gave you enough anonymity to get through daily life without being recognized. It did not, however, protect you from being sucked into the shit fest that is the multiverse. 

You’re not sure what it is about you that just attracts bad luck. You don’t know if it’s some hidden power that’s a part of your evolution. You’re just apparently perpetually fucked. The TVA had determined that you were interfering with the proper flow of your timeline or some bullshit. 

Now you’re here. Stuck in the void with nothing but decay and drunk former superheroes. If you have to watch one more Captain America ‘rally the troops’ you’re gonna kill him yourself. You’ve considered switching teams and joining Cassandra Nova at times. If only so you don’t have to deal with Johnny Storm and the rest of the dipshits. 

You get along with Laura, at least. She likes to tell you about her Logan and you like to dodge her questions about yours. She doesn’t need to know that not every version of Wolverine has a golden heart and story worthy of tears. Yours was a fuck up, plain and simple, but you never thought the incident was his fault. 

As much as others tried to push the blame on him. The people who raided the mansion were determined. There was no other way that day was going to end up. You’d just have one less X-Man. But people always love a martyr more than a victim. 

After a couple of years, you get used to the monotony. Your days are only occasionally broken up by dodging Cassandra’s henchmen and trying not to get sucked up into the soul destroyer. Other than that, you spend your nights getting drunk with Gambit and pretending you know whatever the fuck he’s talking about. 

“Laura! I managed to find some chocolate!” You run into the hideout looking for the girl. It’s rare to find good food that isn’t already a month past its expiration date. You weren’t planning on sharing the candy with her but you figured she’d smell it on you and it’s not worth the fight. 

Instead, you stop short as the familiar blue and yellow uniform you’d always try to force on him comes into view. He’s stealing Gambit’s liquor and you know that’s not going to go over well. What you don’t know is why you are so sure that this is your Wolverine. 

You’ve never had a Wolverine in the void. Not once. This could be any one of the hundreds of thousands of variants. But you see that look in his eye. That familiar watery gaze shows just how much he hurts, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. 

“Logan?” You breathe his name out in disbelief. Bypassing the Deadpool standing nearby. You’ve dealt with enough of those in your time down here. He takes a step back, fixing you with a distrusting look. 

He keeps the bottle of alcohol clutched close to his chest like he thinks you’re going to take it. You track the movement and you scoff. “Right,” you shake your head and stop short. “Of course, the only thing you care about is still getting fucking drunk.”

He glares at you, taking a step forward like he thinks it might actually intimidate you. “Do I know you, bub?” He reaches forward, probably to jab his finger in your chest. You drop your gaze to his outstretched hand and narrow your eyes. 

The material of his suit fluctuates, pulling back and rippling over his arms like liquid and not spandex. He doesn’t notice the manipulation of matter until it's his skin you target. It melts off his adamantium bones and he stares down in horror. 

You know he's scared because he’s watching his body dissolve but he’s not feeling any pain. You could make it hurt, but that’s not what you want. You just want to see if he’ll remember you now. If there’s anything half-decent left in that alcohol-rotted brain of his.

“Flux,” he grits your X-Man name out through his teeth like it hurts him to say it. 

You nod and his skin and suit go back to normal, like you’d never tampered with it in the first place. “You do remember me, then?”

“Thought you fucking died with the rest of them.” Your face drops before you feel an astonished smile on your face. 

“You know, it’s a comfort to know nothing about my world has changed. You’re still the same spineless dick that left us all to die.” You shake your head and storm out of the hideout. You don’t know how long they’re planning on staying but you pray they leave soon. If you have to deal with him longer than a week, you’ll just kill him. 

You step outside just as Laura’s coming back from the bonfire. She greets you with a stiff smile and you wonder what’s got in her in a mood. It only takes a glance over her shoulder to find the reason.

Logan is sulking by the fire, nursing yet another bottle of whiskey. He’s drinking it like water and even with his healing, his liver should have turned to mush by now. “I can see why you didn’t tell me about him,” she mutters as she passes by you. 

You know she tried to be quiet but you can see the way Logan’s head tilts slightly towards you. He’s heard her and you know it has to sting just a little.

You glance down at the leaves under your feet, eyes glazing over as you feel the guilt sink into your stomach. You shouldn’t feel bad, you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t hurt him, technically, just reminded him who you were. But you still feel bad for what you said. 

You’ve never blamed Logan for what happened. And if you did, you would be a hypocrite. Because you survived too, and you left them all behind. You ran like a coward. You could never blame him when you failed to save them just the same. 

You take in a deep breath and steel yourself. You’ll just apologize, walk over there, and explain to him you didn’t mean what you said. You know he’ll be a dick about it. Claiming he doesn’t want your apology. You’ll just leave him alone after. 

You’re about to step forward when he barks out a gruff command, “Don’t fucking stare at me like that. I don’t want your company.” He turns back to the fire and takes another swig from his bottle. 

You roll your eyes and walk towards him. “You can be as miserable and self-pitying as you want, just let me say one thing.”

His head whips towards you so quickly you’re surprised you don’t hear it snap. “I’m not fucking pitying myself,” he grits out. You quirk your brows in amusement, glancing towards the bottle in his hand and the clear way he’s sulking. He turns his attention back towards the fire, intent on ignoring you again. 

“I don’t blame you for what happened,” you tell him. You ignore the warning look he shoots you, taking a seat beside him even if he doesn’t want you to. “I-” you choke on the words, struggling to admit to yourself what you’ve never wanted to. 

“Don’t.” You know it’s meant to be a warning. But when you look at him and see how completely broken he is, it sounds more like a pathetic plead. 

But you need to say this. As selfish as it is, you need to say this to someone., Need to unload this guilt you’ve carried for so long. “I was there, Logan. I could have saved them and I didn’t. I fucking ran.”

“Kid, don’t do this-”

“Jean was still moving,” you blurt out. You feel the way your heart speeds up at the admission. Your fingers shake and the air around you stills. 

His face drops and he slowly turns towards you. You’re afraid to look at him. You feel like a bunny staring down the snout of a wolf, there’s no escaping this. You’ve created this trap for yourself. 

“What?” He demands. His voice has lost that tremor of vulnerability. Instead, he sounds like he did when he first found out what had happened to you all. That same deadly level of calm that makes you want to bolt again. 

“She,” you stare into the fire until your eyes burn. You don’t know if it’s from the light or the smoke but the pain focuses you. “She was shaking on the floor. There was blood everywhere and she could barely breathe. They had gassed us with something. None of us could use our powers, it’s the only reason they got a one-up on us.”

You can feel yourself slipping back into that moment. You feel the warmth of the blood on your skin. It seeps into your suit and makes the material cling to you. Your gut is split open and the only thing holding your intestines in is your hands. 

Jean is in front of you. Her hands are twitching by her sides. There’s blood pouring out of her lips, dribbling down her tongue and cheeks. Every breath is a rattle so deep you feel it in your bones. 

Each inhale sounds like someone dragging glass through the membrane of her lungs. Her chest rises and sinks shallowly as she gasps for air. She’s practically convulsing, eyes twitching every which way.

The gas has faded from the halls. The people have left, satisfied with the carnage. You’re alone, surrounded only by the blood and bodies of your friends. None of the others are moving. Some of them are so mangled you can’t even tell who they are anymore. 

Jean’s eyes lock onto yours. The only anchor she has. And you can see it, the frantic, wounded animal gaze on her face. She knows she’s dying. She knows there’s nothing she can do about it. 

You can only stand by and watch as your friend dies. You could be her comfort. You could be the last face she sees before she dies, distracting her from the sight of her dead fiancee behind her. 

But what do you do?

You hold your guts in your stomach and you run. You can’t look at her. You can’t look at any of them. You can hear her croaking behind you. And even when you’re out of the mansion, when you’re in a hospital somewhere getting repaired and Logan’s on a rampage, you still hear her. 

You feel something heavy on your arm and it’s like you're being forcibly dragged out of a trance. Logan’s looking at you with something you’ve never seen before. But it’s something you’ve always desperately craved. 

It’s like he’s seeing you, really seeing you. For the first time in a long time, you feel that ache of guilt ease away ever so slightly. It doesn’t disappear, but you’re sharing the burden with someone else and it’s a relief you’ve desperately craved. 

“You’re not a bad person for leaving, kid.” He swallows roughly and you place your hand over his. He doesn’t look completely comfortable with the touch, slightly flinching away from it, but he doesn’t move. “If you hadn’t, you would be dead.”

You squeeze his hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. “I never blamed you for what happened.” emotion is so thick on your tongue and in your throat that the words come out a whisper. “Their deaths weren’t your fault, and what happened after wasn’t.”

He clenches his eyes shut and jerks his hand out of your grip. You sigh, knowing you’ve lost him. “I slaughtered them.”

You scoff, “They slaughtered us!” You nearly shout, anger bubbling hot in your gut. When you heard about him killing those who had hunted down your friends, you’d celebrated. And when you heard the way the public was crucifying him, you realized that no matter what you did they would never love you. 

You would always be nothing more than a mutant to them. 

“And the people who didn’t hurt them? The innocents I killed?” 

You don’t have anything to say to that. You just stand up, placing a hand on his shoulder as you pass by him. “I never blamed you, Logan.”

You don’t see Logan again after that. At least, not while you’re in the void. What was left of your little resistance was sucked up into the purple cloud of death. Only you and Laura are left with the carnage. 

Logan and Wade have disappeared to who knows where. It stings, to be on your own again. Sure, you have Laura, but she’ll never understand the pain of what happened to your universe. 

As much as it hurt, at least with Logan, you had someone to share the pain with. You could share your burden with him. You feel lonely and cold. Like there’s a part of you missing. You finally figure out what that ache is when the TVA comes to collect you and you see him again. 

He’s standing behind Wade as he enthusiastically tells you and Larua all about his world. But you can’t take your eyes off Logan, or the tentative smile on his face. Whatever had happened during that fight with Cassandra Nova had changed him, for the better. 

You smile back at him and it feels like taking a breath of fresh air after years. 

Apparently, whoever this world’s Flux had been, she was fucking insanely rich. And dead, which sucked for her but was great for you and Logan. 

It’s not hard for you to fake some government identities and explain that you’d been mistakenly marked as dead. It’s apparently pretty common in this universe. Superheroes are blipped out of existence all the time. You couldn’t get all of her assets as some had been liquidated, but you did get her giant ass house. 

You let Logan and Laura stay with you until they decide where they want to go. It’s better than living with Wade and his coke-fiend roommate. Laura finds her groove pretty quickly, it is her world after all. But you and Logan struggle to figure out what to do with yourselves. 

Neither of you has an interest in being X-Men again, and it seems like they’re not incredibly present in this world either. You also hadn’t been the best of friends, even before everything went wrong, back home. 

You’re not strangers, you’re not friends, you’re that awkward place in between. Each day is another opportunity to get to know each other. The progress might be slow, but you know that you’re getting closer to something real. 

It’s why you don’t feel any qualms about running into his room when you hear him shouting. You burst into his room and the door slamming against the wall isn’t even enough to wake him up. 

He’s writhing around in the bed, sheets twisted around his waist while sweat beads down his forehead. The noises he’s making remind you of a wounded animal. There’s something heartbreaking about this. 

He doesn’t get peace even when he’s sleeping. It makes you hurt for him. You want to smooth over the aches and pains he carries and burden yourself with them. 

The thought snaps you out of your reverie and you’re shocked by the revelation. You’d been growing closer to him, but you hadn’t thought you were growing this close. You feel so strongly for him, but you’re not ready to put a name on what it is that you feel for him. You just know that right now you want to make him feel better. 

You approach the bed cautiously, taking a seat beside him. The bed ripples and jolts underneath you as he tosses and turns. You place a gentle hand on his arm and shake, “Logan,” you whisper. You don’t want to startle him too bad. 

But he’s not responding to anything. It doesn’t matter how much you shake him or call out his name. Finally, you can’t handle it anymore. You get on your knees, sitting over him and bringing your palm down across his face as hard as you can. 

In a second he’s shooting up. You don’t even notice his hand until you see the way his vision clears. The visceral panic fades and something is aching in your gut. “Oh god, no no no,” he says the word so many times it stops sounding real. 

You look down and see the blood dribbling down his palm, the claws buried in your stomach. It’s almost funny, how perfectly aligned they are with the scar that already lived there. The reminder of your friend’s death being erased and reformed by Logan’s hand. 

He pulls his wrist back and you quickly snatch it up. “Don’t!” You shout, jaw clenching against the pain. “Don’t pull them out, I’ll just bleed out.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” You know he’s worried, that’s why he snaps at you. But it doesn’t help the way you feel yourself fighting back tears.

He sees them drip down your cheeks and his face drops. His other hand, the one not in you, comes up and cradles your cheek. “What do I do?” He whispers, and he sounds more desperate than you do. 

You know he doesn’t want another death on his hands. But there’s something beyond that. He doesn’t want to be the reason you stop breathing. There’s a startling clarity when you’re slowly dying. 

He cares about you. Just as deeply as you do for him. You can’t make him go through this pain again. Can’t let him suffer alone, not when he’s made so much progress. “Slowly,” you tell him, guiding his claws out inch by inch. 

It’s hard not to black out. You’d barely felt it when he’d gotten you the first time. You think it’s because of how fast and sudden it was. But this, having them oh so slowly slicing through your insides is the worst form of torture. 

But you don’t heal like him. You have to close your eyes, focus on the pain, and forcibly reknit your skin back together. It’s a clever manipulation of your powers, but it’s a slow one. You could never take serious damage on the field because you wouldn’t be fast enough to repair yourself. 

This is easy to repair. But that doesn’t make it hurt less. It feels like an hour before he can safely draw them the rest of the way out. The second he does, you’re sinking into his arms with a pained sob. 

He clutches you so tightly to his chest you worry your back might snap. He keeps muttering apologies into your hair, hands desperately grasping at every inch of you he can hold. You’re too tired to say anything. 

You realized you should have. You should have told him you don’t blame him. You were the one who snuck into his room. You should have been smarter. But it doesn’t matter how many times you tell Logan not to blame himself, he always will. And you were too tired to try anyway. 

You only realize what’s happening two days after the incident. You figured he might need some space to process what happened. And honestly, you did too. It was awful and incredibly draining. You’ve felt fatigued ever since. 

But when you try and approach him and he just brushes past you like you weren’t even there, you know something is wrong. You watch his retreating back with a disturbed glare. You connect the dots quickly, already knowing what he’s doing. 

He doesn’t want to be responsible for hurting another person he loves. He can’t handle a loss like that again, even if it’s not by his hands. He wants to make sure you don’t want him, that you don’t care for him. Like that might ease the pain and guilt. 

But it wouldn’t. It would just make him feel worse. It would make you feel worse. 

You don’t waste a second, following him up the stairs and barging into his room before he can slam the door shut. It bounces off the wall and he lets out a deeply irritated sigh. He doesn’t turn to look at you, just walks over to his nightstand and rummages around through the doors.

You know he’s not looking for anything. He’s just trying to ignore you long enough for you to give up. It’s not going to happen, he should know better. 

You take a step further into the room and the smell of chemicals slams into you. Your nose wrinkles in disgust. It smells like he pumped Lysol into the vents. Your eyes dart to the bed and you sigh. 

Your blood, you’d completely forgotten. He must have been cleaning it up the morning after. You can’t blame him for wanting to get rid of the remainder. But this seems excessive. 

“Strong nose,” he mutters. You hadn’t realized you’d spoken aloud and you glanced over at him. “I can still smell it, even after cleaning.” He takes a seat on the bed and you hate the way his shoulders are slumped. 

He’d seemed so much more comfortable with himself lately. It’s like one accident has undone all his progress. “Logan,” you start, taking a step towards him. He holds his hand up, still not looking at you. 

It’s driving you insane. You wish he would just meet your eyes. You feel like you could change his mind if he would just see you. Maybe that’s why he won’t. He won’t let himself be happy. 

“Look, that night just made me realize what a huge fucking mistake this was.” He gets up and slides something out from under the bed. It takes a moment for you to register what it is. A duffel bag, packed with all his essentials and what little clothes he owns. 

He’s going to leave.

You act without thinking. Pure panic making your powers surge out. Logan grunts and the bag falls out of his hand. “Quit it,” he snipes, bending over to pick it up. But he can’t because it’s so heavy it’s making the wooden floor splinter and crack under its weight. 

“You don’t get to just leave when things get hard, Logan.”

He stands up, hands propped on his sides. There’s a challenge in his eyes that makes you nervous. “Fuck this,” he scoffs and brushes past you. 

It’s beyond manipulative to use your powers against him. But sometimes, someone is such a fucking idiot, they need a little outside help. You slam the door closed and the handle disappears, locking you both in his room. 

He turns towards you with a fierce glare on his face. “Open the goddamn door before I break it down.”

“You can try,” you taunt, a nasty tone to your voice. You’re sick of this. You’re sick of running from what you want. You’ve been miserable and alone for years. You want to be happy. For the first time in forever, you want something. 

And you want Logan to be happy with you. You can’t force him to feel the way you do. But you can stop him from actively preventing this. “Stop acting like a goddamn child and just talk to me!” You shout at him. 

There’s a disbelieving look on your face. You don’t understand why he won’t let this happen. Why does he have to fight so hard against any semblance of happiness in his life?

“I’m going to hurt you. That is all I do. I hurt the people I love and I cannot hurt you too.” Your eyes widen in shock at his outburst. Beyond anger, there was so much fear in his voice it was almost enough to make you miss what he’d said. 

“You love me?” You can see the realization dawn on him. The fact that he let slip why he’s so hesitant to be around you. You know he wants to leave, his eyes are darting around the room for an escape route, but you’ve blocked them all. You can’t let this go, not now. 

“Logan,” you snap, demanding an answer from him. 

“Fuck you,” he mutters, something vicious on his face. 

He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to lash out and say something cruel so that this doesn’t happen. You know him because you’ve been him. He will take every possible route to get out of this if it means he doesn’t have to face his feelings. 

You roll your eyes and take a step forward. You jerk him towards you and throw yourself on him before he can say something stupid. The kiss is brief, just enough to snap him out of this ridiculous headspace he’s in. 

When you pull back he looks dazed, but he’s relaxed in your hold, sinking towards you. You grin up at him, “I love you too, dumbass.” You lean up to kiss him again but you dart back at the last second, a mean glare on your face. “Pull some shit like this again and I’m going to melt your dick off.” 

You kiss him before he can respond, but you feel the smile against your lips. You can taste the defeat on his tongue as he wraps his arms around you and tugs you into his chest. He’s not going to push you away and you’re not going to let him. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl @allllium  ♡ 

[fancyfeathers]

Hello Fancy! I'd like to request yandere Tim Drake/Red Robin with a nursing student darling who patches him up when she finds him injured. Maybe he's a little out of it and asks her out/proposes and she doesn't take him seriously but he means it (kinda like Orpheus and Eurydice's first meeting in Hadestown).

Darling doesn't want any involvement with any vigilantes so she just hands Tim over to the first vigilante who finds him and thinks thats the end of it while Tim is desperately trying to find darling, who he did not get the name of and whose face is very blurry in his memory.

Hope this request made sense, and is ok

Come Home With Me

(Yandere!Tim Drake/Red Robin x Reader)

Oh my god I adore Hadestown, I went to go see it earlier this year and it was amazing, I cried, I absolutely sobbed. It is a show I would recommend everyone to see if they get the chance or at least listen to it.

But I definitely get Orpheus vibes from my interpretation of Yandere!Tim Drake, a little delusional and very obsessed

Gotham was not always an awful place to live, rent was never high and no one really cared to bother you after all no criminal would really try to kidnap, harm, or blackmail a university student who lived off of the university campus in a studio apartment with no ties to anyone in the city. You were a nursing major at the university that bore the same name of the city it was located in, Gotham University. You had originally lived in Metropolis, born to adoring parents but with their own finances to worry about you had applied to Gotham University without their knowledge and got accepted, the school was good though the tuition was cheaper due to the extreme crime rate, plus a scholarship would cover the cost and getting an apartment was cheaper than living on campus. Your parents told you not to go and that they would cover everything but you wanted to be on your own and for them to not worry about you, but turns out that was not exactly a smart choice.

So here you found yourself about to head home from a night class, things near the university tend to be a bit calmer, you guessed the criminals of the city really do not have much motivation to go after teenagers and young adults who do not have a bone of self preservation in their bodies. Poison Ivy tends to leave the school alone because of the strict green policy on campus and the biology and botany majors taking care of the campus and grounds. Actually you had heard rumors about some of the more infamous names being graduates from the school, Harley Quinn, the Scarecrow, and you think Two Face attended there for his undergraduate, but you could be definitely misremembering that-

“God… fuck, that hurts…” A young masculine voice caught your attention as you walked out the nursing school building. You had decided to take the back entrance since you did not have a car like your friends and classmates and this was a short cut. You glanced toward where the voice came from, there was a little alcove where there were bike racks that were rarely used by the door and there you saw a young man resting against the brick building. You gasped as your mind recognized the man in his red and black suit, yellow gear, and that black domino mask you saw a lot of the vigilantes around here wearing.

This was Red Robin…

And judging by that gash on his leg, he was badly injured.

He was barely able to move from how much pain he was in. You thought about running to go get your professors, but they could leak his identity. After all, who wouldn’t want to know the face behind the mask? Besides he looked too messed up to wait for help and your professors were probably gone, then there was that one Nightingale Vow you had to remember for graduation.

Heal and do no harm.

You certainly would be breaking those vows if you left him here, and you have worked far too hard for that nursing license. You knelt down besides him, taking his left arm and looping it around your shoulders while your right arm wrapped around his back and under his right arm to support his weight as you tried to stand him up to get him inside. Your instincts from working on the floors of the hospital as a nurse appreciated kicked in as you pushed open the door with the shoulder that was not supporting his weight. As a nursing student in Gotham you had to deal with victims of all sorts and your mind went back to when you had to comfort a teenage boy who got caught in Scarecrow’s fear toxin. “You’re going to be alright, you’re safe now.”

“T-thank-“

“Save your strength, don’t strain yourself.” You cut him off as you turned the knob of one of the lab rooms, it was not a perfect hospital setting but it had what you would need. You helped lay him down on the table in the room, which was probably last used by a cadaver during an anatomy class. You went to rummage through the cabinets in the room, pulling out whatever you could use, latex gloves, syringe, bottles of liquid painkillers, bandages, and goss, they did have any equipment for stitches so this would have to be done. You opened the paper packaging the syringe was in, grabbed the needle to attach to it before opening the lid of the liquid painkiller and pushed the needle tip inside and watched as the needle filled up with the clear yellowish liquid. “Do you have a tracker or anyway to contact anyone, you will need stitches and X-rays for any broken bones-“

“Bats… he… he is on his way…” Your heart skipped a beat in worry at the mention of the Batman showing up in the nursing hall. You pushed down the growing fear and walked back over to him, pushing the needle into some exposed skin on his leg where the suit was ripped and pushed down on the syringe as he hissed in pain which was followed by a chuckle, probably half out if from blood loss. “You’re a lot… a lot gentler than-“

“Don’t tell me, I don’t want to get dragged into anything.” You replied as you walked back to the counter to grab the rest of your supplies to at least try to patch him up. “Sorry… that was rude…”

“It’s alright…” He leaned his head back on the table, closing his eyes from the pure exhaustion he was feeling along with the pain medication starting to kick in and making him a bit more loopy than before. “…I think I would want to marry you one day.”

“W-what?” You were caught off guard for a moment, pausing as you began to lift up his injured leg in order to wrap it up. “I-I am sorry but, I d-don’t even know who you are.”

“The man who is going to marry you.”

The response was so quick and confident that you wondered if he was actually serious or just out of it, there is no possible way for him to be serious… right?

“I-I… Are you always like this?”

“Ignore him.” A voice from behind you, in the doorway, nearly made you scream and you would have jumped and bumped his wound if it was not for Red Robin grabbing your hand a little too tightly as if he was afraid to let go, if he were to let go then you would disappear. You turned your head around to see a man who definitely was not Batman, but with the blue bird-like symbol on the chest of his black suit he was just as recognizable, Nightwing. The new vigilante patted you on the shoulder and looked over at Red Robin on the table. “You just keep working, we’ll get him back safely.”

“We?”

“The Bat is keeping watch outside.”

Oh… oh god… that was not a terrifying thought at all.

“A-alright…” Your voice clearly cracked as you looked back at the other vigilante on your table, you grabbed a bottle of disinfectant and cloth from the counter and you wet the cloth with the strong scented liquid before you dabbed it against his wound which made him hiss in pain as the painkillers did not stop everything but you tuned it out and kept working. You glanced at Nightwing who was resting against the wall, watching you work. “Elevate his leg for me while I get the bandages over it, he will need stitches after this, but this will keep him from losing a substantial amount of blood and prevent infection until then.”

“Whatever you need.” The vigilante pushed himself off of the wall and towards the table that Red Robin laid on, he grabbed the young man’s leg by the upper calf and lifted up from the table, the other vigilante too high on painkillers at this point to even react. You began to wrap the gauze around his leg first, making sure it covered the area of the wound before moving towards the roll bandages, following the same steps as the gauze. You snipped the bandage off of the roll when you were finished and stepped away from the table and towards the sink, turning on the hot water and washing the blood from your hands under the faucet, and drying them off with one of the paper towels you ripped from the dispenser by the sink. “I know you all are vigilantes or heroes or something, but get him to an actual doctor, just tell them it was an accident when he was on his bike or skateboard or something. He should not be walking on that leg for one and a half to two weeks, at least.”

“Noted, and thank you.” You nodded in response to Nightwing as he expressed his gratitude and handed you your backpack from where you threw it on the ground. As you put it on, Nightwing helped Red Robin up from the table, throwing his arm around his shoulder and supporting his weight, carrying him just like how you did when you brought him in, though it looked easier for him than it was for you. “I would take the front entrance of the school out, the Scarecrow it out tonight and if I were you I would not want to get caught by us. Just get back to your place, lock the doors and turn off the lights and you’ll be fine.”

“I will, thank you Nightwing.”

_______________________________

It has been about a week and a half, almost two weeks since the incident with the vigilantes of Gotham, with Red Robin, and like always nothing changed, life went on. You sat on your bed in your apartment, everything you had was fairly simple, the budget of a university student. A simple metal bed frame and mattress that your old man picked out for you before you left home. You had your laptop on your lap and your lower back pressed against your pillows and your legs hidden under your weighted blanket. It was really late, probably one or two in the morning and you had made the mistake of being the designated driver for your friends when they wanted to go drinking, so now after they were done and you had to drive them all home which only made you get home even later than you wanted to be, but alas you had work to finish.

You drummed your fingers next to the mouse sensor on your keyboard, over the sticky notes that were filled with all sorts of reminders…

Call mom after classes…

Pick up groceries on Friday…

Go to the gym on Saturday….

All of them were slightly smudged, the ink having smeared when you pressed them down to stick them to your laptop. So much to do in so little time…

As if fate always hated you, your current computer page crashed, showing up with that little message to let you know that you had lost internet connection. You groaned and set your laptop down and pulled the blanket aside, getting out of bed and walking to the router on the other side of your small apartment, placed in a blind spot that you can’t see from your bed, the small black box being placed on the windowsill by your front door…

You paused in your tracks as you saw the vigilante you saved that night on the stairs of your apartment’s fire escape outside of your window, Red Robin. The black haired young man gave you a small smile, as if embarrassed at being spotted outside, before he waved his hand, as if gesturing you to come outside and talk to him. You rolled your eyes with a heavy sigh and walked towards the window, grabbing your shoes from right by your front door and you struggled to put them on as you unlocked the window and you let him take care of the rest, pushing up the stiff glass pane as if it was nothing. He held out his free hand to help you down as you crawled out of the window and your feet landed on the metal fire escape next to him.

“I needed to see you again-“

“I told you I didn’t want to get involved with-“

“That can’t be true because otherwise you would have never helped me that night.” He cut you off just like you cut him off before. “Why did you want to become a nurse?”

“Because I want to help people.”

“Then that is something we have in common-“

“So did you shut off my internet?”

“…I needed to talk to you.” He gave you a smile before revealing his other hand which he had kept hidden behind his back this entire time, he revealed a bouquet of red carnations. He reached them out to you for you to take even if you were quite shocked by the gesture. “I got you these, a peace offering if you want them.”

“Um… okay.” You took the bouquet from him, holding it in both hands to keep your hands occupied in this awkward situation. “…look if that’s all I have to go, it’s getting late and I have to pick up groceries tomorrow- oh my god!”

He interrupted you without words, quite literally getting on a knee and pulling out a gold and diamond ring which would probably cost more than everything you have owned, your parents have ever owned, sell all of your organs on top of that and you still would not be able to afford it.

“Come home with me.”

“I-I… I don’t even know you are!”

“The man who wants to marry you.” He stood up straight and you watched in horror as he took you by the shoulder, spinning you around so your back was against your window and his back was to the city of Gotham, he peeled back his black mask from his eyes and your lips fell agape at seeing the identity of the vigilante, you have seen the magazines, you knew who he was, Timothy Drake, a single child of a wealthy family who only got more rich when he was adopted by the richest man in Gotham, Bruce Wayne, when his own father and mother passed on. He seemed to catch onto your reaction or recognition and just smiled as he pressed the mask back onto his face. He looked back down at the ring, a fond smile on his lips. “This was my mother’s ring…”

“It’s beautiful but I am not… I can’t marry you, I don’t know you.” Your words trailed off as you head turned slightly to glance at the internet router in your window and a sudden realization came across you. “I never gave you my name… you have been stalking me, haven’t you?”

“I wanted to protect you, people cold come after you for helping me and I didn’t want you to get hurt.” His voice was starting to sound slightly annoyed but not annoyed enough to sound upset with you. “I was trying to make sure you were safe, please understand-“

“I don’t… I won’t understand.” You turned you to your open window, turning your back on him. “You stalked me, probably broke into my house while I was asleep, didn’t you? Actually I don’t want to hear it, it’s best if you leave and don’t come back.”

You stepped up onto the windowsill, your hands coming to grab the sides of the windows to pull yourself up and in process you dropped the flowers onto the metal ground up the firescape and the soft sound of the petals hitting the iron somehow covered the sound of him stepping towards you and his arms reaching out so his forearms pushed down on your windpipe, it was in a way that would not be painful or bruise unless you squirmed around and you certainly did.

It only took less than a second for him to yank you back, his arms putting pressure on your neck as he laid you down on the fire escape as you struggled against him and you tried to scream but nothing was able to come out as he only hushed you as if you were a colecy child.

“Shh, it’s okay, go to sleep.” You could see your vision darken at the corners of your eyes as you struggled for breath but none came into your lungs. “I’ve got you, you’re okay… you’re okay.”

Those were the last words you heard before you fell limp in his arms, out completely cold. The young vigilante made quick work of taking your phone from your pocket and setting it inside your apartment, in the windowsill before reaching up and closing it. He would be able to come back later for anything you would need, he just did not have time to grab it right now because it would not be long before someone could potentially spot him. He took the bouquet of flowers and slid their stems into a loop on his utility belt. Then he took the ring and took your limp hand, sliding the ring onto your finger.

A perfect fit.

He picked you up in his arms, holding your body on his hip with one arm, holding you like a child and leaving the other free to hold onto the grappling line. He did not have to go far, just needed to get a hold of Bruce and get you home, he would understand, he has to, after all he is doing this all to protect you and just to be with you…. Of course he’ll understand.

[solrabi]

ex-convict!sukuna gets into a bar fight for burnt out reader but she’s embarrassed of being seen with him. For more context, read this prompt.

ex-convict!sukuna series masterlist

There’s a fine line between procrastination and being burnt out, and you weren’t sure which part of the spectrum you belonged to. However, you could blame part of your confusion to the toasty bitter liquid in front of you. Condensation collecting around the large jar. College bars weren’t exactly crowded during finals week, but the bartenders were glad to have you there as you single-handedly kept them in business after downing drink after drink.

Your friends had long ditched you to catch some sleep before their study session the next the day—an event you weren’t invited to because you simply slept the entire time, not being much help with memorizing naming reactions in organic chemistry.

Your notes from the first half of the semester were still incomplete. Forget revising for the final. You were fucked, winging your past quizzes and exams by getting Cs.

Life felt stationary. No internships, no friends you could actually rely on, car broken down, and no boyfriend.

Boyfriend. Funny word. The closest thing you had to one was the older man you were messing around with. To make matters worse, he was an ex-convict without a job.

His truck, however, said that he had enough money to spare. His apartment? Not so much. Heat pooled between your legs as you thought about his room. His bed. A Pavlovian response. You only went there to momentarily forget about your struggles after all.

“You’re looking worse for wear,” a smooth, rich voice calls out from beside you. Geto Suguru—English Literature major. Honors student. Persistent ex-hookup from your second year. You were surprised that you were even able to recognize the midnight-haired man. He eyed your figure—slouched and red (courtesy of the alcohol).

“Need me to drop you home? I live nearby.” You knew he meant well. But a small voice deep in the corners of your consciousness told you that you were most likely going to invite him in. Finding solace in one man’s arms were enough. You were not going to split your loyalties. At least for the time being. You were too mentally exhausted.

Also, you weren’t sure how Sukuna would react knowing that you were sleeping around with other people.

His angry grunt after you asked if he had been hooking up with other girls was enough to tell you that your arrangement was exclusive. It was a good thing that you asked him while he had you sheathed around his dick. Who knew what he would’ve said if he was in his right mind?

“I’m alright, Suguru. Thanks for offering,” you slurred out. He wrapped an arm around you, probably to shield you from the leering eyes of the other drunk patrons at the bar. “It’s just colder than usual here. And you don’t have a jacket.” You simply nod at his reasoning. Relishing in his warmth and the smell of his subtle cologne. Much tamer than Sukuna’s and even then you’re able to sense his heavy natural musk.

Maybe it was because you’d been intimately entwined with him more times than you could count. You couldn’t even remember what Suguru’s scent reminded you of. All that clouded your mind was that darned tattooed ex-convict.

“You know, I’ve been watching you around campus for a while. I can tell you haven’t been feeling well for a while and—“ Suguru sighs before tightening his hold on you “—if you ever feel like you need to talk to someone, please know that I’m always there for you.” His warm smile almost feels fake. You couldn’t remember the last time someone showed you genuine kindness. Save for Sukuna immediately replying to your text where you’d told him you needed to let out some steam.

“Thanks,” you choke out, a singular tear falls down and for the first time in a while you see something other than pity in a peer’s eyes—concern. True and genuine concern. You felt cared for. Your tears began to flow out your eyes yes and you sobbed uncontrollably, unsure if it was the alcohol or the shred of kindness you were just shown.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he said as he rubbed his arms up and down your shoulders. “It happens to the best of us. You’ll be ok-“ You’re suddenly left cold without Suguru’s warm hold. You turn to see his hand in the grasp of another man’s.

Sukuna. He was in front of you.

“Get the fuck away from her,” he spat at Suguru. “If you know what’s good for you.”

Suguru ignored the older man’s imposition and turned to look at you. Eyes softening again. “You know this guy?” Your tongue was too thick for your mouth to answer him.

What could you say? If you agreed then all the people in this bar (who were in your university) would know that you liked to mess around with strange men. If you said no then you’d have Sukuna’s supposed wrath to deal with.

You didn’t even know what he went to jail for.

Too overstimulated and confused to answer, you simply glanced around the bar. All eyes were on you three. An unwanted spotlight.

“Tell him you know me,” Sukuna’s red eyes bore into your delirious state through a frown. “At least I know where you live.”

You felt conflicted. On one hand, you had a man who was genuinely concerned for you and was explicit with providing you with support. On the other, was a man who knew about your emotional state and didn’t let you feel afraid to put your guard down despite never asking you about your troubles.

“That doesn’t matter. She didn’t say anything about knowing who you are. Hell, I haven’t even seen you around campus. Are you even a student at our school?” Suguru snapped. You were grateful that a mere acquaintance was so protective of you, but at this moment, everything felt uncomfortable.

Cold sweat prickled the back of your neck as you watched both the men raise their voices with each insult thrown at one another.

And to your horror, both the men started fighting one another. You looked away, shielding yourself and cringing. You heard a distressing crunch and didn’t want to guess whose nose had gone bust. It was all so embarrassing. Your friends always joked that you had the worst taste in men and they were right.

Humiliated, you ran out the bar, too frantic to pay your tab. The fight had gotten so bad that you could hear the faint sirens of the local police patrol cars driving towards the bar.

The bus ride back home was as excruciating as ever. Its rockiness and constant bumps on the mussed streets made it a nightmare to hold your bile in. The acidity of it had travelled up to your mouth, and you were grateful for the bathroom being in close proximity to your front door.

A few uncomfortable belches and spurts of vomit later, you dragged your dehydrated and exhausted body to your couch, scrolling through your phone to order hangover soup for the next day.

But your finger stopped before you could tap anything because a text had popped up.

11:27 pm | Sukuna Ryomen: are you okay

—

No part two for this. The “storyline” (?) is more focused on reader’s unhealthy coping mechanisms, and how sukuna affects her life 🥸

[unluckilyimnot]

Okay, but bonten with like a SUPER soft gf. Like, we talk like cry on every sad movie ivies with an animal to be specific). Takes things other says to heart. Often like cry over small things and stops to pet EVERY single animal she sees.

Feel free to ignore if you don’t feel like doing this one 😭 I know it’s lowkey weird.

Bonten with a soft gf!

Characters: rindou, ran, kaku, mikey, sanzu, kokonoi

fluff / no tw / wc: 900+

Note : no way it's so cute don't ever worry !! I love it, thank you sm ! I dispatched it between all the characters. I hope it's fine.

m.list | rules

Rindou never minded more than that the fact that you cry a lot. He loves it a lot and it makes him chuckle and laugh more than anything else. He's always there to wipe your tears away when you cry when the dog dies in the movies, or when you tear up at any inconveniences. You wear your heart on your sleeve, you're sensible, the opposite of him, and he cares and loves you for that.

Yet he's the first one to draw a radical line the second you get hurt, in any way, by someone. It's silly and fun until some abuse it and use it against you or to hurt you. He will find who did this, who made you cry and will burn their house down.

Sanzu sighs a lot when you decide something was wrong when he, in fact, didn't care. Yet his heart always skips a beat when he hears you speaking louder than you usually do, mad at people treating him poorly. He listens to you for a while before he finally steps in and holds your hands when he's feeling cheesy, or your elbows when he's a bit tired or high.

"Babe, it's really nothing. Don't worry yourself like that, you'll get wrinkles." He honestly makes you laugh every time, or at least confort you that he doesn't care about anyone's opinion besides yours. And oh how much you love and care for him everyday, he can't even doubt it. He wished you'd stop hurting yourself over things like this, but recognize that your sweet nature is definitely what he loves the most about you.

Ran laughs at you when you get offended for nothing. It can be about something going your way to work to you spiking your coffee on the counter. It's his own comic relief of the day when you're stroming around, a deep frown on your face making you look like a small, angry animal but still defenseless. His laughter always makes it worse, without mentioning his venom filled remarques, to make fun of your overreacting nature. To the point you can cry and not speak to him for hours – but for sure mentioning it all to Rindou.

Ran hates it when you team up with him, because you wouldn't talk to him but Rindou would, on the other hand, mention you and everything you told him to Ran. He's always making the first step to you and apologizing with probably a hundred wroth bouquet and your favorite snacks – promising you he'll never do it again, when he will most certainly do it again.

Seeing you enjoying small things about life is the reason why Mikey kept you around at first, you reminded him of his younger self and his friends at that time. Every time you stop to pet a stranger's dog, a small smile shows on his lips, one you rarely get to see even if you're always the reason for it.

You listen to him so carefully the few times he does talk to you, it makes him feel alive again. You're doing most of the talking and you're always so sorry to take this kich when that's what he loves about you. He makes sure to tell you that he likes it from time to time, just to be sure you won't stop. Your heart is so soft and warm, welcoming him every time you see him again with new facts you learn and an unconditional love that overflows everywhere, and he gets the chance to be showered with it every time.

Kokonoi gets used to you stopping all the time the second you catch the glimpse of a stay animal. So he instinctively adds ten minutes to every trip you two have to do, even if it's only to walk to his car because there's a few stray cats in the parking lot and he's sure you're gonna stop or even wait for them to walk out from their hide spot.

But he just can't bring himself to get impatient when your eyes light up at the sight of the small cats. The way you jolt in joy when their cold nose finally touches your hand, and you look up to him with the softest smile he ever had the chance to witness. Yes, you're usually late, but he just had to snap a picture of you with the white kitten and everyone is accepting the fact that those ten minutes of your happiness are worth the delayed meetings.

Kakucho's always there to rub your back when you cry in front of a movie. He never sees why you cry particularly, but always listen thoughtfully to what you have to say about it. He brings you tissues, sometimes even wipes your nose for you and lets you dive into his arms when a character you like dies. He can't help but tell himself how sensible you are every time, but also how he loves that. You bring him back to his human nature and what it is to be emphatic about normal things, far from his rough life where his life is at risk every time he steps outside the door.

To that, he hopes he'll never be the reason for your tears, and that he'll always be there to wipe them away and shush you down.

Sorry its rather short, tell me if you want a particular hc with one or a whole os.

Let me know if you liked it !

[atlabeth]

too sweet

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: a night out makes hotch realize a few too many things.

a/n: me??? writing for criminal minds again out of nowhere??? what is going on. and i do not have an answer i was just in a hotch mood bc he's fine asf and i finally have the confidence to write for him here we are lol. hope u enjoy this short lil thing

wc: 2.4k

warning(s): alcohol consumption, a sexual joke or two, written in one go so might be a mess! aaron is all in his head but this is basically all fluff

Hotch can’t focus. 

Mostly because he can’t stop glancing over at you. Normally it’s not a problem—he’d lost count of how many times he’d distracted himself from mounds of paperwork by meeting your eyes through his office window, often accompanied by a smile that made even his heart beat a little faster—and especially now, it shouldn’t be a problem. 

You and Derek have had some kind of bet going on during the past few nights out—you didn’t believe he was as charming and suave as he claimed, and Morgan was all too happy to prove you wrong.

You bet that he couldn’t get at least five numbers every night, and come last Thursday, Morgan took the win at the end of the evening with a smile on his face. As punishment, the first round of their next night out was on you. 

And that’s nice, sure. Hotch is always thankful that his team can still joke around and have fun with each other despite everything they have to deal with each day. He hopes they keep the light in their eyes as long as possible, especially the younger ones. He’s fine with being the stick in the mud, the one who never smiles, the iron willed chief that scares local uniforms.

Hotch is not so fine with the way he feels right now. 

It’s a busy night at the bar, which is understandable. Hotch is sure half the precinct is out alongside them, celebrating the BAU finally solving the case that had torn them to shreds over the past week. You, Reid, and Garcia put the threads together an hour into scouring through evidence, and the unsub was cuffed before noon. 

Certainly something to celebrate—there’s a reason the whole team agreed to go out tonight and leave tomorrow. Even Rossi decided to join when he learned you would be buying, but he’s already abandoned them in favor of catching up with some old friends. Hotch even thinks they might have another round in their future because of their solve, courtesy of the local chief. They had a long night ahead of them. 

But you haven’t gotten the drinks yet, and Hotch wonders how long it’ll take even after you do. Because some officer is trying to talk you up, and you’re smiling and laughing along and giving him every bit of your attention. 

Hotch recognized him the moment he set eyes upon him, even in plain clothes. He’s some joke of an officer from the station, and he’s been trying to get your number—or even just get your attention—throughout their whole visit. Always sidling up to you during debriefs, specifically giving you any information or evidence he finds—Hotch has overheard him asking for your number more than once. 

Hotch has been so focused on the case he’s not even sure if you’ve rejected him or not, and the mere thought is enough to annoy him. If he wasn’t equally as sure of your ability to defend yourself and afraid of overstepping with you, he would have stepped in. 

But it makes sense. The officer is young and handsome, you’re young and pretty—not to mention you have a way of lighting up any room you step into. Hotch spent the whole first month of your employment wondering why you would want to do a job like this. He’s spent the rest of it thankful that you did. 

You’re sharp as a whip, naturally, but you’ve also done wonders for the team atmosphere. It’s hard to feel down with a smile like yours beaming his way. The job weighs you down like it does everyone, but you still manage to lift everyone’s spirits on the jet ride back before they jump into the next case. It’s impressive. 

It’s also trouble. You’ve been part of the BAU for almost two years now, and Hotch has spent just as much time tearing his eyes away from you as he has working. It’s wrong, and it’s wholly inappropriate in terms of your working relationship—he’s your boss, for god’s sake. 

But sometimes, Hotch will be beating himself up over one thing or another on a case, and you’ll plant yourself in his vicinity and refuse to leave until you’ve helped him work through it. If you ever tire of the FBI, he thinks you have a second calling as an elementary school teacher. 

Sometimes the hotel they’re staying at will have truly shitty coffee, worse than they’re used to at the BAU, and you’ll already be in the lobby with a tray full of the team’s orders. Hotch never recalls telling you his order—you just figured it out, and you remembered it. 

Sometimes his gaze will drift your way, and he’ll find you already staring at him. You look away just as quickly as he does, and it makes him wonder. 

Hotch has made a living off of studying the behavior of others. More often than not, he finds himself profiling his co-workers just out of instinct. His job is to know what others are thinking. 

But god. When it comes to you, Hotch doesn’t think he’s ever felt more unsure in his life. Especially when you look at him the same way he wants to for weeks, then act nothing but proper another day; when you fall asleep against his shoulder on the jet one night and entertain some desk jockey another night. 

It makes him feel like a highschooler again, trying to figure out if Haley really liked him or if she was just playing around, and it’s more embarrassing than it should be. Especially when he’s still dealing with the lingering emotions from the divorce. 

“Hotch.” JJ’s voice is enough to break him out of his trance, and he blinks as he turns to her. At least someone paid him the mercy to dispel his thoughts, even if only for a temporary time. 

“What?” 

“Did you hear a single word I said?” she asks, a slight smile curving on her lips. 

“Of course,” he responds. “The chief’s over there talking with the commissioner. He’s the same guy who made your life difficult the last time we were in Milwaukee.” 

JJ’s eyebrows shoot up, and she nods. “I didn’t think you were listening.” 

“I think he just got lucky,” Morgan cuts in, his gaze darting over to you momentarily. “I think you were too focused on our drinks.” 

Reid frowns. “I don’t think he was focused on the drinks. He’s—” 

“Just making sure they’re still coming,” Hotch interrupts, and he straightens his tie. Today really has been a long one—usually, he’s better at covering these things up. “And I wasn’t lucky. I was listening.” 

“Trust me,” Morgan says with a laugh, “I’m watchin’ her until I’ve got a glass in my hand. She’s not getting out of this after the way she bragged this whole month.” 

“The stupidest thing to make a bet on,” Prentiss remarks, “especially with you.” 

“She said she just wanted to prove you wrong,” Reid contributes. “She thinks you’re too cocky.” 

Morgan grins. “It’s not cocky if you can back it up.” 

Hotch’s attention goes back to you, and you’ve finally gotten their drinks. You’re loading them onto a tray like you’re the bartender yourself, and his brows crease. Maybe he should have gone up with you. 

“Do you think she needs help?” he asks. How obvious is too obvious? Why does it feel like his brain only works at half power whenever it comes to you? 

“She’ll be fine,” Prentiss says. “And if she needs it, that guy talking her up can help.” 

“Jason Rodriguez,” Reid remarks. “He hung around her the whole time we were trying to pinpoint a location, and he wasn’t any help, which makes sense because he's practically desk-bound at the precinct. I’m surprised she got any work done.” 

JJ chuckles. “I’m surprised he hasn’t given up yet. He’s been following her around all week, like some lost puppy.” 

Morgan shrugs. “I dunno. She seems pretty into him.” 

“I don’t think ex-frat boys are her type,” Prentiss says wryly. Hotch doesn’t think so either, but he doesn’t say anything. Contributing to this kind of conversation is certainly too obvious.  

“I doubt we’ll be back here for a while. She might as well.” Morgan smiled. “She probably needs a win after such an embarrassing loss.” 

Thankfully, before Hotch has to keep pretending not to care about this topic, you walk over carrying a tray of cocktails—and you’re alone. The subject of their previous conversation seems lost in the crowd, and he feels a dangerous amount of relief. 

“Are you all talking about me?” you drawl. 

“You know we are, sweetheart. Thought you were never gonna get here.” Morgan sits up, smiling at you. “What’d my win get us?” 

“Long Island Iced Teas,” you muse as you set the tray down. “Enjoy it, because I’m gonna be working some overtime to make up for all these.” 

Morgan grins as he takes his drink. “You should’ve never doubted my skills.” 

“I’m surprised you didn’t need any help,” Prentiss says. “You’ve done this before, huh?” 

“Bartended my way through college.” You slide into the booth next to Hotch, just a bit too close for a bit too long, and he hopes that no one can see his chest still for a moment. It’s impressive that he still hasn’t figured out how to lessen the effect you have on him. “I’ve probably got better hands than you, Morgan.” 

“Do we need to make another bet?” he asks. “Because I’d love to clean out your wallet.” 

“Maybe wait another month before you prey on any more poor, defenseless agents,” you croon, and Morgan laughs. 

He pivots the conversation away from you when you pick up your drink and take a sip, and you look at Hotch. Whenever your gaze is on him, you make him feel like he’s the only person in the room. He’s sure you never look at anyone else that way, but Hotch wonders how much of that is his mind trying to justify his imagination. 

“I’m surprised you agreed with this,” you say, mercifully interrupting his thoughts. “I thought you’d want us to go back tonight.” 

“You all earned a night out after the work you did,” Hotch says. He thinks about taking a drink, but he decides against it, at least for now. He can barely trust his sober mind. 

“You’ve earned it too,” you say. “We wouldn’t be anywhere without you, Hotch. You keep us all together.” 

He shakes his head. “I don’t think I ever would’ve connected the dots like you and Reid can with Garcia. I hate unsubs with secret codes.” 

“I’ve always liked puzzles,” you muse. “There’s nothin’ like it when it all finally clicks.” 

Hotch hums, and for a moment, he’s silent. Your gaze remains fully on him, and that might be why he has trouble thinking. It’s too easy to get lost in your eyes. 

“What did that guy say?” Hotch finally manages to ask, because he honestly can’t help it. Morgan’s points actually worried him a bit, and he wonders what that says about him. Ex-frat boy certainly isn’t your type, but someone forgettable for a one night stand isn’t the most absurd thing in the world. 

Your brows knit together as you drink some more. “What guy?”

“The officer you were talking with,” he says. “He seemed to like you.” 

He’d been flirting with you since the moment you stepped into the precinct, actually, desperate for your attention, but Hotch didn’t really want to say that. He’s sure you noticed either way, if the rest of the team did. 

“Oh. Him.” You shrug. “He’s nice, I guess. Definitely a looker. But he’s got nothing beneath that hair.” 

“Morgan’s surprised you didn’t bring him back,” Hotch says. He wonders if he’s pushing too much, and again, he feels like a highschooler testing the waters. Do you know what you do to him? What you reduce him to? 

You shrug as you take a sip. “If he knows what’s good for him, he knows he doesn’t have a chance. My attention’s on someone else.” 

Prentiss calls your name and you get drawn back into the middle of the team’s conversation, and thankfully, Hotch has a chance to digest your words—and the stunner of a smile you flash at him before you get pulled into their talk. 

His decision to not drink seems even wiser, now. Hotch has to loosen his tie, and he ignores Reid watching him. It’s futile trying to hide anything from Spencer Reid—the kid already knows everything. 

Again, it's dangerous how much satisfaction he gets from it—from knowing you never really paid that officer a second thought. You didn’t smile at him the way you smile at Hotch. You don’t smile at anyone the way you smile at Hotch. He thought he was imagining it at first, or that he was just a bit too stuck up, but it was the honest truth. You paid him special attention, and he couldn’t blame the warmth in his chest from the thought on any alcohol. 

He tunes back into the conversation just to hear Morgan demand you pay for his next drink. 

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” you say. 

He puts a hand to his chest. “Generous? You’re just paying what you owe me.” 

You laugh and shake your head. “Pick your poison, pretty boy.” 

“How do you feel about tequila?” 

You make a noise of disgust and shake your head. “As long as I don’t have to drink it.” 

“You’re just paying, sweetheart.” Morgan’s eyes dart to Hotch, and he nods as he grins. “One for me and our fearless leader.” 

Hotch shakes his head. “Someone has to get us back to the hotel.” 

“That’s what cabs are for!” Prentiss exclaims. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud, Hotchner. You deserve to let a little loose.” 

“It takes most people an hour to process a drink,” Reid contributes, “so you’ll be fine before we leave if you want to drive.” 

“Come on, Hotch,” you say, and you nudge his shoulder. “You might as well—I’m paying.” 

“...Fine,” he says, and the whole team cheers. Even Reid smiles. 

“Y’know, you can smile tonight, Hotch,” you say with one of your own before you down the rest of your drink and stand up.

And one actually tugs at his lips. It feels a lot hotter in this bar with your eyes sparkling and you beaming right at him, and he fights the need to shed his jacket. Your grin somehow grows. 

“That’s what I came out to see,” you remark as you pick your wallet back up from the table. “I expect another when I get back, Hotch. There’s a lot to celebrate tonight.” 

Yeah, he thinks as he watches you go. There just might be. 

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

academic rivals d.g.

Pairing: Dick Grayson as Robin x Reader

Warnings: Some injuries.

Word Count: 4.3K

A/N: Full discretion this idea was given to me by an anon and even though I said I wasn't taking requests I just couldn't resist.

Also @writing2sirvive I hope you find this offer acceptable after not writing for our baby for so long 😭😭

There was always a slight pinch of anxiety when your teacher went around the class, handing back your test papers after grading them and you waited with slightly bated breath, a fist clutching the fabric of your uniform.

Even though you knew you had done well on the exam, you were particularly unnerved by her declaration before distributing the stack of papers that only one person had managed to get a perfect score.

You kept your eyes trained on your desk, waiting for someone behind you to exclaim that they had gotten a 100% but it never came. Not until your teacher had placed your paper in front of you with a soft 'Good job'.

You beamed, barely able to contain your excitement as you waited for the bell to ring.

Of course, you were over the moon that you got a 100. And that you were the only person in the entire class that managed to get one.

But secretly, you were more elated by the fact that someone else didn't.

"Aw, what's wrong Grayson? Your daddy finally run out of money to bribe your teachers with?" You snarked as soon as you caught a glance of the 93 written in red at the top of his paper.

"Sub-par insult, (L/N)." He said flatly.

"I disagree, nothing about me is sub-par, as you can clearly see." A sly grin on your face as you waved your paper with '100' in his face. He rolled his eyes so far back you couldn't resist making a comment, "Roll your eyes as hard as you want, Grayson, you won't be able to find a brain back there."

His friend, Barbara, who was sitting beside him chuckled at this and he turned to her with an irritated glare, "Can I help you?"

She gave him a teasing smile, unnerved by his annoyance toward her, "Oh, nothing, I'm just eagerly waiting for the day you both stop pretending you hate each other and start dating."

It seemed like her comment had just the effect she had wanted when Dick choked on his spit in his haste to argue that even if you were the last person on Earth, he wouldn't go near you with a 10-foot-pole.

"I'm not too happy to agree with you, Grayson but I, very fortunately, have a boyfriend."

His face twisted, "Gross, who'd wanna date you?"

You gave him a fake smile, "Hopefully, not you."

***

"Recognized: Domino, B-08."

You squealed in joy the second the light faded from your eyes, gaze landing on your boyfriend who stood right outside the zeta tube with a giant smile on his face.

You threw your arms around Robin's neck with a giggle, peppering his lips with smiley kisses that he so enthusiastically returned, his arms snug around your waist.

"Do you guys have to do this every time?" Came Conner's unimpressed voice as he shuffled uncomfortably around the two of you making out, "Can you at least stop doing it in the middle of the entrance? People are trying to get places."

You pulled away with a soft blush, smiling at the sight of your sparkly lip gloss on Robin's mouth and his slightly dazed expression. There was nothing like your kisses that was able to knock the vigilante's world off its axis and it had been this way ever since you started dating 10 months ago.

The pair of you were still very much in the honeymoon phase, much to the chagrin of your teammates, who have walked in on you many times while your lips were practically glued to each other.

"How was your day?" Robin finally asked when you had each gotten your fair share of kisses, leading you to the kitchen for a snack before the mission briefing and you beamed, "Amazing! I got a perfect score on that test from last week!"

He raised a brow, "The one that you skipped a date to study for?"

Smiling, you nodded, "The very one."

He sighed, taking a box out of the fridge, "See? I told you that you'd do great! You probably didn't even need to skip our date."

You rolled your eyes, giggling at his pout that you were all too quick to kiss away, "Hey now, I made it up to you, didn't I?"

Nodding, he pushed the box further toward you with a smile, "You did. Which is why I got you this, but I guess it could be for a job well done too."

You gasped when you saw the squiggles of the familiar logo of your favourite bakery on the top of the box and eagerly opened it up, completely missing the fact that it had been sealed with tape and nearly ripping the carboard to shreds in order to get to the treats inside.

The smell of the strawberry shortcake and red velvet cupcake had you salivating, and you wasted to time before digging in.

"Ugh, I love you." You moaned, nearly dissolving into the symphony of flavours and Robin chuckled swiping some of the cream cheese frosting off your cheek before licking it off his thumb, "Are you talking to me or the cupcake?"

You paused, glancing up at him from the cupcake wrapper, "I can love more than one thing."

His affectionate gaze had you melting, forgetting the delicious treat for a second, "Thank you for the gift, I really love it."

Robin happily accepted the sugary kiss you had given him, "Well, I figured, since it had been a while since we had a date in Gotham, you'd be craving it."

You only took another bite of the cupcake to hide your guilty wince. While the list of details you didn't know about your boyfriend was limitless, starting with his name and ending with literally anything else, you felt guilty that he somehow knew even less about you.

At least you knew what city he lived in while he was under the impression that you lived in Star City with Dinah, your mentor. You really thought he wouldn't buy it, especially after he didn't believe Artemis the first time.

But nearly a year after joining the team it would seem that he was still blissfully unaware, and you were planning to reveal your identity to him soon enough. You were firm that you wouldn't be celebrating your one-year anniversary without knowing each other's names at least.

At least once he found out you were living in the same city, you'd be able to have more frequent dates.

"Team to mission room." You heard over the PA, and you grabbed the box with you to the meet Batman and Canary along with the team, unwilling to leave your precious strawberry shortcake at the hands of Wally. This way you'd be able to dislocate his shoulder the second he put his hands on your things.

When you entered the room to find a face that you recognized on the holoscreen, you paused and glanced at Artemis who shrugged in response.

"Leo 'The Lion' Stark, the leader of the cult that was kidnapping young girls was officially incarcerated this morning."

Cheers erupted around the room, and you passed the box in your hands to your boyfriend to high-five Artemis and bring her into a hug. Black Canary patted the both of you on the shoulder, "Job well done on this mission, you two."

The mission that led to his arrest had been an undercover op with both you and Artemis posing as the girls from the private school that was being targeted. Eventually, you were able to find the leader and put a stop to his entire organization.

You had never seen Robin more fearful for your life than during this mission and it was after it that you had said your first I love you's.

"Today's mission is a covert op. For stealth, I will only be sending two members of the team: Robin and Domino."

Robin sent you a smile and you squeezed your interlocked fingers underneath the table.

"If they can stop kissing long enough to actually get the mission done." Conner grumbled underneath his breath and was rewarded with a swift kick to the knee.

***

It happened too quickly.

Everything was going fine. The mission was well underway, and you had observed them long enough to know where they were keeping their illegal servers. All that was left was to input your program that would upload all their data wirelessly so it could be accessed by the league.

Then it all went wrong, all at once.

You don't even remember much of what happened. All you knew is that when you had least expected it, someone had snuck up on you and you had felt your stomach squeeze with a painful terror that you hadn't experienced in a long time upon being caught off-guard.

"The Lion sends his greetings."

What followed was a series of excruciating shocks up your body that had your heartbeat ceasing in your chest and the movement of every single muscle came to a standstill such that you couldn't even make a sound come out of your throat.

You didn't even have the time to think about anything before you lost consciousness, the last thought flashing through your head being your worry for Robin.

And then every single pulse in your head came to an abrupt end.

“Come on hero, come on!” Robin panted as he continued to pump his hands against your chest, counting down the beats in his head to the compressions, “Baby please, please wake up!”

He was in tears, even though he tried to control them, but he had been looking at your unconscious face for the last 30 minutes as he continuously tried to revive you. His stomach was in knots and his chest felt like it was on fire, but he still didn’t quit, he wouldn’t until he passed out himself.

Before he could even stop himself, he was sobbing and the wails he let out erased the count he was keeping in his head, “Someone please help! Please help.”

His communicator lay discarded only a couple of feet beside him, but he couldn’t take his hands off you for a second, he couldn’t mess up the beat, he couldn’t stop the chest compressions because you’d die; and he’d die right alongside you.

“Robin, come in. Robin, can you hear me?”

His chest collapsed in a fit of sobs as soon as he heard the sound of his mentor come through from the communicator. The device beeped with the sound that alerted him of an override indicating that his mentor could now listen in.

“Batman help! She’s not breathing! I don't think she has a pulse! I’m trying to do CPR but she’s not awaking up! Please help!”

“Hang in there, Robin. Someone will be there in five.”

***

"She's alive but her brain was deprived of oxygen for a while so we can't accurately put a time frame on when she could wake up." Batman explained, his voice as stiff as concrete like always but the hand he placed on his ward's shoulder was warm and comforting.

There were so many questions rushing through Robin's head, but he kept silent because a part of him already knew the answer. This wasn't the first time he had seen something like this, while being Robin he had seen countless families, parents, spouses, receive the same news.

The distraught questions would usually follow: would take months? years? is there a chance that she could never wake up? is there anything he could do?

He wanted to ask Batman anyway, he wanted Batman to lie and say that everything would be okay, that the girl he loved would wake up soon and he just had to wait but he knew better than anyone that was all it would be. Lies.

There were those that were fortunate enough for their loved one to eventually wake up. Others would be forced to watch life go by while their loved ones were imprisoned to a bed with the empty hope that one day they'd wake up.

So, he swallowed down all his questions, Adam's apple bobbing painfully in his throat, "Can I see her?"

His father nodded, leading him to the med-bay with one hand on his back. Robin felt his stomach sink with every step he took, staring sullenly at his sock-clad feet. In his rush to change after the mission so he could get to you as soon as possible, he had thrown on anything he could find.

Which resulted in him being dressed in your sweatpants and his hoodie that you had stolen so often it smelt like you; a combination that both comforted him and broke his heart all at once.

When he saw you from the door, a rush of epiphanies struck through him like lightning to a metal rod. Although, first and foremost, he was just relieved to see you. Even though it hurt him to see you unconscious, and he knew that there was a chance he'd never get to see you awake again, a part of him forgot all about that as soon as he saw you.

He took quick steps toward you, wanting nothing more than to feel your skin against his when he stopped in his tracks once again with wide eyes, realizing you were without your mask.

"Robin?"

"I-I know her. (Y/N) (L/N), s-she's in my class." He stammered, staring at your relaxed features with his mouth hanging open. As odd as it sounded, this was the first time he had ever seen you, as (Y/N), so relaxed.

Whether it was a scowl or even just a grimace, you always seemed to be frowning at him and he never bothered to pay any attention to you outside of classes, when you were talking with your friends. He was sure you'd have a mesmerizing grin, one that would reach your beautiful eyes.

Batman stayed silent behind him, and Dick wondered just how many times Bruce had heard him talking shit about the love of his life, having to keep silent to respect your privacy. His cheeks coloured, remembering the conversation from this morning, where he had claimed that he would never touch you even with a 10-foot pole.

If only he had known that he had been pressed against the same girl so many nights prior.

"Does it matter?" Batman asked, snapping him out of his mortified state where he remembered every single insult he had ever directed at you, either to your face or behind your back.

To anyone else, it would have sounded like a shallow question, but Dick knew his father was concerned about whether his feelings would have changed, whether your identity did matter to him more than your relationship or his love for you.

He swallowed, walking up to your bedside, and gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face and for the first time in his life, he took in all your features. It was startling how quickly his worst enemy became the most beautiful person in the world.

"No, it doesn't."

***

You could see the bright light even though your eyes were shut. There was nothing more you wanted than to slip back into your deep slumber but for some reason your consciousness began trickling back into your head in a gentle stream.

You squirmed, brows pinching together in a frown as you murmured something unintelligible, features twitching until finally your eyes began to flutter open.

"(Y/N)?" You heard and your hand was squeezed by someone you couldn't quite place. Your vision was still quite blurry, and you were extremely disoriented. Still, you tried to blink through the hazy shapes in your sight and you managed to recognize a familiar head of black hair.

"Baby?" You breathed out, sighing in relief when he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, "Thank goodness you're okay."

Right before you had lost consciousness, a thought had flashed into your head. Robin would never abandon you there, no matter what had happened to you, if you had died or just lost consciousness.

You worried that in his effort to stick by you, he'd be hurt or worse.

"Me? (Y/N), you were unconscious for two days! Do you have any idea how worried I've been?!"

If you had been any more conscious, you probably would've been concerned over the way his voice broke in grief and his heartbroken words but in your exhaustion, all you could do was give him a silly smile, wishing your eyes could focus long enough for you to see his beautiful face.

"I'm okay now, I'm okay."

"I didn't think you would be." He confessed, pressing another kiss to your fingertips, holding your hand gingerly but still in a firm grip in between both of his. Like he was scared you'd evaporate and disappear before his eyes.

"I'm okay, baby. Just a little sleepy." You told him, feeling your consciousness slip further and further away as your blinks began to get longer and longer and your strength began to disappear, "You'll be here when I wake up, right?"

He nodded, voice thick with unshed tears even though you couldn't see him, "Yeah. I'll be right here."

***

This time when you woke, you felt much more refreshed than you had before. Your head didn't feel like it was nailed to the pillow anymore, but it felt like you had lead in your veins which was expected considering you had been unconscious for days.

Despite his promise, Robin was nowhere to be found when you finally sat up, stretching your arms as much as you could, careful of the IV in your hand. Your eyes darted around the familiar med-bay, trying to catch a glance of the clock by craning your neck but was ultimately unsuccessful.

Was it a weekday? Was it school hours? Was that why Robin wasn't at your side like you had asked him? What about you? What excuse had Batman given the school to explain your sudden absence? Were your parents aware that you had been injured?

The endless barrage of questions was silenced to a mum when you heard the door slide open and you sighed in relief, noticing the head of black hair first, "I believe you promised to be here when I wo—!"

Dick Grayson was beaming at you and in certain angles of the light, his blue eyes almost looked glossy with tears, but you shook your head unconsciously. Why would he be crying at the sight of you?

'Because you're so ugly the sight is making my eyes water.' Would have been his classic response and you practically rolled your eyes at the thought.

"(Y/N), you're awake!" He took a step closer, and you flinched.

"Stop right there!" He quite literally froze in his steps, he might as well have been encased in ice at the receiving end of your cold glare, "What the hell are you doing here, Grayson?"

He paused and somehow you were annoyed by the dumbfounded look on his face while multiple scenarios ran through your head. A concussion, brain injury or something along that likeness. Perhaps the part of your brain responsible for recognizing faces was damaged and this wasn't actually Dick Grayson. Amnesia, possibly? Maybe you were actually good friends with him but managed to forget it all? Of course, there was always the possibility this was a dream.

Your brow twitched at his lack of response, "I asked you a question."

At your terse tone, it seemed like he was finally able to snap himself out of his stupor, "(Y/N), baby, it's me."

You scowled, "Don't call me that and speak clearly; the hell do you mean by 'me'?"

"Baby," He said again, so firmly that you were silenced in your effort to snap at him again, "It's me."

Dick watched as your face melted from an expression of disgruntled bewilderment to the smallest sliver of recognition. Your eyes raked over his body, only now noticing that he was in short sleeves, and you were able to see the familiar scar on his forearm that belonged to your boyfriend. The little patch of freckles near his elbow that you had traced with your finger so many times before.

Your voice was small when you called him again, "Rob?"

He nodded and your eyes went wide, not quite able to believe it. Your boyfriend stood stiffly, berating himself for not handling this better. He had very quickly gotten over the fact that his girlfriend was his greatest rival in high school while he watched your unconscious face for the past couple of days, waiting for you to wake up.

It had completely slipped his mind that you were still unaware of his identity, and he swallowed nervously. Sure, it was something he could easily put past him but were you the same?

Robin knew you inside and out, he knew how much you loved him, but he didn't know how just much you hated Dick Grayson. Was that hate enough to overpower your love for him?

You stared at him in surprise for only a minute, but it felt like hours to him before you closed your eyes and leaned your head back, "Wow."

"This-This doesn't change anything right?" He began, feeling the lump in his throat grow three sizes larger when you turned to him with an expression that was not a reassuring smile like he had wanted.

"Are you kidding? This changes everything! Barbara is never going to let us hear the end of this. And my friends? Oh, they've hated you ever since that incident during our group presentations." You exclaimed, fingers twitching, and Dick knew it was because you wanted to flail your arms around but couldn't because of the IV.

He bit his lip. You weren't outright rejecting him or anything, but he needed to hear you say it and he needed to hear it as soon as possible.

"No—(Y/N), does this change anything between us?"

You paused, stopping in the middle of your tangent to give him a confused glance, "Between us? No. Why would it?"

And just like that, the tension in his muscles evaporated away and he relaxed, approaching to your side like he wanted to and interlacing your fingers, "I love you."

You finally smiled at him, leaning to kiss his lips, "I love you more, even though you said I was gross and that no one would ever want to date me."

"Well, to be fair you said you'd hope I never did, so I guess we're even."

***

"Hey, stranger." It really didn't make sense that after almost a year of dating, your boyfriend's voice still managed to send shivers down your spine. You closed your locker shut before turning to meet the beautiful blue eyes that you grew to love.

It was scary how quickly you completely rewired your brain into loving every single feature belonging to Dick Grayson.

"Hi, Grayson."

His eyes dipped to your lips for a second, mentally scolding himself for turning to putty the second you said his last name. It was weird how the last time you both were in school together, he thought that the sound of his name coming from your mouth was like nails on a chalkboard.

Now, he felt like he had been blessed just by being in your presence.

"I have all the assignments and notes that you missed the past week." You had been ordered bed rest and some physiotherapy to regain complete mobility after being unconscious for a couple of days. Under your boyfriend's watchful care, he had dutifully nursed you back to health.

You smiled when he handed you the stack of papers even though the heft of it made you want to cry. All this work from just a week? All the AP classes you had been taking in order to compete with your own boyfriend had come back to bite you in the ass.

"Thank you. Can I come over later so you can help me out with it?"

It was really a formality that you were asking because you both knew he was obviously going to say yes. But you figured you'd do the polite thing and ask the first time. After today though his room would practically be yours, just as your room would now be his personal hideout.

"Of course, baby. I've been dying to introduce you to Alfred. We can go back to mine together after school."

You nodded, starting when you heard the bell, "I have Physics." You bemoaned, it being the only class Dick didn't take with you. He had opted for a language instead, which you were beginning to think was more useful than whatever you learnt anyway.

He gave you a smile, eyes twinkling when he slanted his lips over yours in a soft kiss and you had to pull away quickly before you forgot just where you were.

His disappointed pout was all too quick to disappear when you reminded him that you'd be going home with him that day, "I'll see you later."

The two of you parted ways with delirious smiles, feeling too much like you were wafting on cloud nine, completely unbeknownst to the small crowd of people that watching your entire interaction with wide eyes.

Barbara, who was stood at the centre of the flock, smirked, and held out her hand, "Pay up bitches."

***

Bonus:

"I'm surprised you didn't figure out her identity earlier, Dick. Aren't you supposed to be a great detective?" Wally teased and your boyfriend rolled his eyes.

"It's not that I couldn't find out, I just didn't try."

"How come?"

He spared you a glance and shrugged, "She asked me not to."

"I don't remember you offering me the same consideration." Artemis sniped but he knew it was all in good nature.

"You aren't nearly as pretty." He replied coolly, making you blush.

***

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@notslaybabes

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

@isawachickeninatree

@uxavity

@battlenix

@capricorn-stark

@evermoore580

@dumbbitchgalore

@fuckingjinkies

@some-lovely-day

[willowsnook]

cat and mouse

jack hughes x reader

Hockey was your favorite sport but you hated most hockey players. They were cocky, commanded every room they were in, and expected panties to always drop at their feet. You’d had your fair share of run ins with the type when you went to BU and working in the industry post grad meant you had to deal with a lot of annoying personalities regularly. But you were good at keeping your work and personal life separate. 

It seemed your luck had run out tonight though. Every Thursday night, you met your friends at a small bar in downtown Newark to chat about the week and pregame the weekend. The bar was a good in between of being a dive and a sportsbar so to you it was perfect. It was busier than usual tonight, a group of tenish guys seated at your regular table much to your annoyance. 

“Wait those guys look so familiar,” your friend Rachel said, eyeing them over her drink. “I think they’re Devils players. Right y/n?” 

As the hockey girl of your friend group you sighed, but looked over. Sure enough she was right. Your friends buzzed with excitement, the single ones anyways. Conversation carried on after the temporary distraction and you were buzzed after a while. Getting up to get another drink, you looked for an opening but didn’t find one. 

You tapped on a figure in front of you, hoping to squeeze in. 

“Excuse me,” you started and he turned around. You started to ask if you could slip by him but he cut you off. 

“No pictures tonight sweetheart,” he said, a brief look of annoyance on his face. 

“Awesome,” you deadpanned. “Can you move then so I can get a drink?” 

He blinked in surprise, his face flushing while the guy he was next to burst out laughing. 

“Nice going Jacky,” his friend said grinning. He moved to the side to let you through and you ignored his gaze that was still trained on you. 

“Let me at least buy you a drink,” he offered, a smirk back on his face as he took in your appearance. 

“I’m good,” you said, not even looking over at him.

Jack wasn’t used to rejection. Especially not from someone who looked as good as you did tonight. He leaned against the bar, watching as you waved the bartender down without sparing him another glance.

“Come on, one drink,” he tried again, flashing a grin he was sure had worked a thousand times before. “Consider it an apology for the whole ‘no pictures’ thing.”

You let out a dry chuckle, finally looking at him. “You think I care that you’re a hockey player?”

His smirk faltered, just for a second. “I mean… most people do.”

“Well, I’m not most people.”

His friend from earlier—who you now recognized as Dawson Mercer—let out another loud laugh. “Man, she’s really not into you.”

Jack shot him a glare before turning his attention back to you. “So, you’re a hockey fan then?”

You shrugged, “Something like that.”

“Let me guess—Rangers fan?”

You scoffed. “Please. I have standards.”

Jack’s brows shot up in amusement. “Oh, so you do like the Devils.”

“I didn’t say that either.”

He grinned, intrigued. “You’re kind of killing me here, sweetheart.”

“That’s unfortunate,” you deadpanned.

Dawson practically doubled over laughing, and even the bartender gave a knowing smirk as they passed your drink over. You grabbed it, giving Jack one last look.

“Listen,” you said, tilting your head slightly. “I get it. You’re used to girls fawning over you. But I’m just here to drink with my friends. So… enjoy the rest of your night, Jacky.”

You didn’t wait for a response, turning on your heel and heading back to your table. Your friends were already whispering excitedly, having watched the exchange unfold.

“Oh my God, you just walked away from Jack Hughes,” Rachel whisper-yelled.

“Yeah, and?” You plopped back down, taking a sip of your drink.

“And he’s, like, Jack Hughes!”

You rolled your eyes. “Exactly. That’s the problem.”

From across the bar, you felt a pair of eyes still on you. You didn’t have to look to know it was Jack.

“I have to have her,” Jack said to Dawson, his eyes not leaving you even as you walked back to your friends. 

“I feel like I just witnessed history,” Dawson said grinning. 

“What’d I miss?” Luke asked, as he came back from the bathroom. 

“Jack turned all of his charm on this girl and she literally gave him the biggest look of disgust I have ever seen,” Dawson told him gleefully while Jack rolled his eyes.

“Where is she so I can shake her hand?” Luke joked, knowing way too well how often that reaction was not the case. 

Luke scanned the bar, his eyes landing on your table. "Wait, I know her. That's Y/N. She works for the team's PR department."

Jack's head whipped around to face Luke. "What? How do you know that?"

"She helped me set up my social media accounts when I first got signed," Luke explained. "She's actually pretty cool. Knows her hockey too. She’s works with the executives mostly, so I doubt you would have ran into her."

Jack's interest piqued even further. A girl who worked for the team, knew hockey, and wasn't impressed by him? This was a challenge he couldn't resist.

"I'm going over there," Jack announced, straightening his shirt.

Dawson grabbed his arm. "Dude, she clearly doesn't want to talk to you. Let it go."

But Jack shrugged him off, already making his way towards your table with Luke tailing behind. Your friends noticed him approaching before you did, their eyes widening and you turned your head to see what they were looking at. You grinned widely, eyes lighting up and Jack relaxed. Game over, he thought. 

“Luke!” You exclaimed, rising to greet him. The younger Hughes brother’s eyes widened as you hugged him, feeling the burn of Jack’s glare in his skin. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, y/n,” he said warmly grinning down at you. 

“Buy me a drink?” You asked, ignoring Jack completely. Luke’s eyes filled with amusement, catching on to what you were playing at and nodded, beckoning for you to follow him. 

“You know this is going to make him crazy,” Luke warned as you made it back to the bar. Jack stayed behind, charming your friends to recover his ego. 

“I doubt it, I’ve never even seen him before tonight,” you waved your hand dismissing the idea. 

“This is Dawson by the way,” Luke introduced and you gave him a smile. 

“Nice to meet you, y/n,” Dawson said. “Sorry I didn’t recognize you, I didn’t know you worked for the Devils.”

“It’s okay,” you said. “Generally my job is PR projects for leadership in the org. I only met Luke because I was covering for Madison when she was out.” 

You chatted with Luke and Dawson a while longer before you decided to call it a night. Bidding both the guys goodbye you headed outside, unaware of someone following behind you. 

“Not going to say goodbye?” Jack called out, his lips turned up as your eyes settled on his face. 

“I’ve said it to the people who need to hear it,” you replied, looking down at your Uber app. Jack walked closer to you and you braced for whateve ridiculous thing he was going to say next. 

“You know I’m enjoying the hard to get act you’re playing,” he said and you snorted. “It’s just going to make me want you more babe.” 

A car pulled up next to you and you closed the distance between you and Jack, your lips near his ear. 

“Too bad we can’t always get what we want,” you purred before pulling away and stepping into the car. 

—---------------------------------------------------

“Hey lover boy, heard you got your ego knocked down a couple of pegs this weekend,” Nico chirped to Jack as he entered the locker room. 

Jack rolled his eyes, trying to play it cool. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh come on," Jesper chimed in with a grin. "Word travels fast. Heard you got completely shut down by some girl at the bar on Thursday."

"She didn't shut me down," Jack protested, but his teammates' laughter told him they weren't buying it. "Whatever, it's not a big deal."

But it was a big deal to Jack. He couldn't stop thinking about you all weekend - your sharp wit, the way you'd completely dismissed him, how good you looked in that outfit. It was driving him crazy.

As the team filed out onto the ice for practice, Jack hung back for a moment, catching Luke's arm.

"Hey, that girl from the other night - Y/N. You said she works here, right?"

Luke eyed him suspiciously. “Why?”

“No reason,” he replied quickly. 

“Dude haven’t you had enough?” He questioned. “She clearly isn’t interested.” 

“She just doesn’t know me,” Jack complained to his brother. “She’s literally so hot, I can’t stop thinking about her.” 

“I know she’s hot but she’s not going to sleep with you,” Luke said, trying to hide his laughter at his brother’s whining. 

“We’ll see.” 

Jack Hughes wasn’t used to losing. Especially not like this.

For the next week, he tried everything to get your attention.

Monday: You were grabbing coffee at the arena’s café when a shadow loomed over you.

“Let me guess—oat milk latte, extra shot of espresso?” Jack said, sliding into line behind you.

You turned, unimpressed. “Bold of you to assume.”

He smirked. “I like a challenge.”

You rolled your eyes and placed your order. When you went to pay, the barista waved you off.

“He already covered it,” she said, nodding toward Jack.

“Consider it a peace offering,” he added, looking far too pleased with himself.

You grabbed your drink without another word, but you heard Luke’s quiet groan from a nearby table.

“This is going to be a disaster.”

Wednesday: A massive bouquet of roses arrived at your office. The card read:

"For the only person in this building who doesn’t think I’m charming. – JH"

Your coworkers swooned. You barely glanced at them before handing the entire arrangement to the receptionist.

“Want these?” you asked.

She gasped. “Wait, seriously? These are gorgeous!”

“Knock yourself out,” you said, walking away without a second thought.

Jack, watching from down the hall, groaned.

“This girl is impossible,” he muttered.

Friday: You were in the press box during morning skate when a puck suddenly landed on the ledge in front of you.

You glanced down to see Jack grinning up at you from the ice. He tapped his stick against the boards, waiting.

You picked up the puck, reading the sharpie-scrawled message: Drinks tonight? You pick the bar.

You smirked, leaning forward just enough for him to see you… then you casually tossed the puck behind you without even reading the rest.

Jack’s jaw dropped as his teammates erupted in laughter.

“Oh man, that was brutal,” Dawson wheezed, skating up beside him.

Luke skated over next, clapping a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“Dude. Just give up.”

But Jack just grinned, eyes locked on you as you turned back to your work.

“Not a chance.”

—--------------------------------

If you were being honest with yourself, you were having fun playing this game with Jack and your opinion of him was starting to change. Yes, you still 100% believed he was a cocky player, but he was fun and he made you laugh. His company was actually enjoyable, something you learned from the fact that you now saw him at a few times each week.  

The back and forth between the two of you had been going on for a couple of months, and even though Luke had been hesitant about Jack’s pursuit of you at first, he was ready to see this end. 

“Hey y/n,” Luke said, knocking on your office door. 

“What’s up Luke?” You asked, looking up from your computer. 

“I’m hosting a party tonight for my birthday and was wondering if you wanted to come?” 

“I’d love to, what time?” You asked and he told you. He mentioned that you could bring a couple of your friends, specifically Rachel, since Dawson had been talking to her recently. 

Pairing a lace bodysuit with jeans, you finished curling your hair while Rachel stood next to you doing her makeup. 

“So what’s the actual deal with you and Jack?” She asked and you shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Nothing really, it’s like a game,” you said. 

“Are you going to sleep with him?” She asked. 

“Maybe,” you said. “He is hot.” 

She eyes you curiously before asking her next question. “Are you into him more than in just an ‘I want to sleep with you’ way?” 

You scoffed, “I barely know him like that. It’s not like we’ve ever hung out one on one.” 

“Just asking, just seems like you were so anti-hockey boys and here we are.”

“We aren’t anywhere.” 

She just smirked at you, not saying anything further. 

Jack showed up to the party fashionably late, instantly looking for you. He was pleased when he saw you talking with your friend and some others but decided not to approach you just yet. 

“Beer?” Dawson offered and he shook his head. 

“I need to stay focused,” Jack said nodding at you. 

“When are you going to admit this is something a little more than a game?” Dawson asked. 

Jack scoffed, but his eyes never left you. "What are you talking about?"

Dawson rolled his eyes. "Come on, man. You've been chasing this girl for months. I've never seen you put this much effort into anyone before."

"That's because she's playing hard to get," Jack insisted, but even he didn't sound convinced.

"No, it's because you actually like her," Dawson countered. "And not just because she's hot. You like that she challenges you, that she doesn't fall for your usual tricks."

Jack opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again. He watched as you laughed at something someone said, your eyes crinkling at the corners. His stomach did a little flip.

"Shit," he muttered.

Dawson clapped him on the back. "There it is."

By the time you noticed Jack, you were very drunk. He was seated at a barstool chatting with some of his teammates. 

“Y/n!” Nico called, waving you over. “Come hang out with us.”

You met Jack’s eyes as you came over and gave him a wink before you hugged Nico. He offered his seat but you declined, moving to where you were standing at the table with Jack at your back. He spread his legs wider and you leaned back, settling on the edge of his chair. 

You felt Jack tense slightly as you settled against him, but he didn't push you away. Instead, his hand came to rest lightly on your hip, his thumb tracing small circles through the fabric of your jeans.

"So, Y/N," Nico said with a mischievous grin, "Jack here tells us you're still giving him a hard time."

You laughed, leaning back further into Jack's chest. "Oh, has he now?"

"Can you blame a guy for trying?" Jack murmured close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze. "I suppose not. But where's the fun in making it easy?"

The guys around the table hooted and hollered, but you barely noticed. You were too focused on the way Jack's eyes had darkened, his grip on your hip tightening ever so noticeably. 

Jack was quiet as you talked to his teammates, lost in thought. You were starting to hit a wall and after you yawned for a third time Jack leaned forward. 

“How are you getting home?” He asked. 

“Probably just call an uber,” you told him. 

“Let me take you home,” he said and you nodded, giving in. 

As you stepped outside into the cool night air, Jack's hand found the small of your back, guiding you towards his car. The gesture was surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to his usual cocky demeanor.

"You know," you said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you, "for someone who's supposedly trying to get me into bed, you're being awfully chivalrous right now."

Jack chuckled, opening the passenger door for you. "Maybe I'm not just trying to get you into bed anymore."

You raised an eyebrow, sliding into the seat. "Oh? And what exactly are you trying to do then, Jack Hughes?"

He closed the door and walked around to the driver's side, taking a moment before answering. "I'm not entirely sure," he admitted as he started the car. "But I think I'd like to find out."

The drive to your place was quiet, and it wasn’t long before he was pulling up to your building. 

“You want to come up?” You asked, and his eyes darkened, flickering once to your lips. 

“I can’t sleep with you when you’re this drunk,” he said and you smirked. 

“Who said I wanted to sleep with you Jacky?” You teased. “Maybe I just like your company.”

He mumbled something under his breath as he got out of the car and followed you inside the building. You stumbled as you got out of the elevator and Jack caught you, pulling you into him. 

“Careful angel,” he murmured and you felt yourself getting hot. He didn’t say anything as you opened the door to your apartment, just silently looking around, taking in your home. You watched him look around until his eyes landed back on you. 

Taking a step forward and his breath hitched as your hands came to rest on his shoulders. 

“Y/n,” he warned, clearly fighting some kind of internal battle with himself. 

“Just a taste,” you whispered before pressing your lips against his. 

Jack's resolve crumbled the moment your lips touched his. His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him as he deepened the kiss. You tasted like the sweet cocktails you'd been drinking all night, and he couldn't get enough.

For a moment, all the playful banter and teasing melted away. It was just you and Jack, lost in each other's embrace.

But as quickly as it started, Jack pulled away, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath.

"We shouldn't," he murmured, though his grip on your waist didn't loosen.

You pouted, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. "Why not?"

"Because," Jack said, finally taking a step back. "I want to do this right."

You blinked, surprised. "What do you mean?"

Jack ran a hand through his hair before stepping back, “You are very drunk and I want our first time to be without any doubts that we both want it.” 

You tilted your head, analyzing his answer before nodding. “Okay. I still want you to stay.” 

“You are so much nicer when you’re drunk,” Jack said as you both walked towards your room. 

“I know,” you said with a small smile. “Enjoy it while it lasts.” 

You stepped into the bathroom, deciding to take a quick shower before changing into a pj set you had. It left little to the imagination so Jack’s eyes widened when you came back out. He was laying in your bed, scrolling through his phone as you climbed in next to him. 

“You are making this very difficult for me,” he complained, adjusting himself under the covers. 

“I don’t kow what you’re talking about,” you said innocently. You laid your head on his chest and his arm moved to where he could hold you against him. 

“I knew you would fall for my charm,” Jack said, shooting you a cocky smile. 

You scoffed, “I haven’t slept with you yet buddy, I’m merely just using you for warmth.” 

“Mmhmm,” he hummed, kissing your forehead before closing his eyes. 

You woke up the next morning on your side with Jack pressed up behind you. One arm was wrapped snugly around your waist, like he was scared you were going to run away. You turned around and admired his sleeping form next to you. 

This whole thing between you was starting to get complicated. What started as something fun was slowly turning into something more for you and you really didn’t know how to feel about it. 

Jack stirred, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours. 

“Morning,” he rasped, stretching out his limbs. 

“Hi,” you said back, moving to slide off the bed. Before you could stand up, two hand encircled your waist, pulling you back. 

“FIve more minutes,” he pleaded, enjoying the warmth from your body against his. 

“I need to go to the Farmer’s Market before it gets crowded,” you told him. “So you need to go.” 

“Let me come with,” he said and you looked at him surprised. 

“You want to come to the Farmers’ Market with me?” 

He shrugged, “I don’t have anything else to do.” 

Jack wasn’t sure how he got here. One minute, he was trying (and failing) to win you over, and the next, he was carrying a tote bag full of fresh produce while you picked through a crate of peaches like this was a normal Saturday activity for the two of you.

“You’re taking this very seriously,” he noted, watching as you inspected each piece of fruit.

“I’m not about to waste five bucks on a bad peach, Hughes,” you replied, finally selecting one and dropping it into your bag.

He smirked, shifting the weight of the tote on his shoulder. “So I’m carrying all your stuff now?”

“You invited yourself,” you said breezily, moving on to the next stall. “Consider it a consequence of your actions.”

Jack just shook his head, trailing behind as you stopped at a bakery stand. You picked up a loaf of sourdough, glancing up at him.

“Do you even eat real bread, or is it all protein shakes and sad health food?”

Jack scoffed. “I eat real food. I could house that whole loaf in one sitting.”

You arched a brow. “Prove it.”

He grabbed the sourdough out of your hands and tossed some cash at the vendor. Tearing off a piece, he took a dramatic bite. “Happy?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re such a child.”

Jack grinned, nudging your shoulder with his. “And yet, you keep hanging out with me.”

You rolled your eyes, but he caught the small smile you tried to hide as you walked ahead.

Yeah. He was definitely getting somewhere.

—---------------------

The line between you and Jack was definitely blurred after that night. Something had shifted which hadn’t gone unnoticed by anyone around either of you. 

“So,” Luke said, sitting next to his brother in the locker room. 

“Spit it out Luke,” Jack said, giving him an annoyed look. 

“You went to the farmers’ market,” Luke stated, catching the interest of a nearby Dawson. “And you did that after not even sleeping with her.” 

“You didn’t sleep with her?” Dawson asked, butting in. 

“She was very drunk,” Jack groaned, leaning his head back and shutting his eyes. “Not that it’s any of your guys’ business.”

“I can’t believe you went to the farmers’ market,” Dawson said. “You’re whipped.” 

“It’s not like that,” Jack muttered. 

“Not like that,” Luke echoed. “But you haven’t slept with anyone else since this whole thing started. A little uncharacteristic of you.”

Jack didn’t reply, just threw his towel into his brother’s face before stalking off. 

His day did not get better from there. After a less than stellar game from him, he opened his phone to see an ongoing discourse on twitter. Apparently Paul Bissonnette, a TNT analyst and former NHL player, had done a deep dive on Jack’s game play, pointing out a laundry list of problems. 

Twitter was split with Devils' fans tweeting angrily at Biz and Biz’s followers defending him. Honestly Jack didn’t care that much, especially because a lot of what he was saying was right, but it still didn’t feel good. 

The media asked him about it after the game and he much to the annoyance of the Devils’ PR team, he let his temper get the best of him. 

“I mean that guy was a professional bench warmer but what do I know?” He sounded off, which just added fuel to the fire. 

You had taken the week of from work, visiting a friend in NYC while all this was going down and you didn’t envy your coworkers that had to deal with this. 

While you were out for lunch the last day on your trip you ended up running into Biz as you were walking out of the restaurant. You recognized him immediately and weirdly enough it seemed like he knew who you were. 

“You’re Jack Hughes girl?” He asked and you froze. 

“I wouldn’t say that,” you said and he grinned. 

“That’s not what Quinn told me,” he said and you shrugged. 

You raised an eyebrow at Biz's comment. "Quinn Hughes? And what exactly did he tell you?"

Biz chuckled. "Just that his brother's been chasing after some girl from the Devils' PR team for months. Said it's the first time he's seen Jack actually put effort into pursuing someone."

You felt your cheeks heat up slightly. "Well, Quinn doesn't know what he's talking about. Jack and I are... it's complicated."

"Uh-huh," Biz said, clearly not buying it. "Look, I know Jack's probably not thrilled with me right now, but I wasn't trying to attack him personally. Just pointing out areas where he could improve his game."

You nodded, remembering the Twitter drama. "I get it. It's your job to analyze players. Jack will get over it once he cools down."

“I have a funny idea if you’re game?”

—-------------------------------

Jack stared down at his phone seething. Nico was watching him with an amused look on his face. 

“I mean, it’s kind of funny,” he said and Jack shot him a glare. 

“What’s funny?” Luke asked, coming out of the showers. He leaned over Jack’s shoulder to see what he was looking at on his phone. It was a quote tweet to the press interview when he had chirped Biz. 

@.biznasty: Damn, that hurts Jack; at least I have a pretty girl to make me feel better.

Along with his tweet was a selfie of you and Biz attached. 

Luke barked out a laugh. “Oh my god, that’s hilarious.”

“I don’t think it’s funny,” Jack said coldly. Nico laughed it off but Luke could tell something was off by his brother’s tone. 

As Jack stared at the photo of you and Biz, a mix of emotions swirled in his chest - anger, jealousy, and a hint of hurt he wasn't quite ready to acknowledge.

"Come on, man," Luke said, sensing his brother's mood. "You know Y/N is just messing with you. It's what you two do."

Jack locked his phone, shoving it in his bag. "Yeah, well, maybe I'm tired of playing games."

Nico and Luke exchanged a look as Jack stormed out of the locker room.

Meanwhile, you were on your way back to Newark, feeling a little guilty about the stunt with Biz. You hadn't expected it to blow up quite like it did. Sure enough a text from Luke confirmed what you were feeling. 

LH: just a heads up, Jack is in a mood about the Biz picture. 

Y/N: really? It was just a joke?

LH: I know and it was funny. But he’s being a little sensitive. 

You asked Luke to send you their address, deciding to make a stop on the way home. He answered the door when you got there, an amused look on his face. 

“The princess is in his room,” he said, motioning to what you assumed was Jack’s door. 

Jack had just gotten out of the shower when you pushed his door open, his white towel wrapped snuggly around his waist. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked sharply. You rolled your eyes at his tone. 

"Heard you were throwing a tantrum," you said, leaning against the doorframe. "Thought I'd come see what all the fuss was about."

Jack's jaw clenched as he turned away from you, rummaging through his dresser. "I'm not throwing a tantrum. You can go back to hanging out with your new buddy Biz."

You sighed, moving further into the room. "Jack, come on. It was just a joke. You know there's nothing going on between me and Biz."

He didn't respond, just continued rummaging through his drawers with more force than necessary.

"Hey," you said softly, placing a hand on his bare shoulder. He tensed under your touch but didn't pull away. "Talk to me. What's really bothering you?"

Jack finally turned to face you, his expression a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "I had a bad game and then I’m getting chirped in the media, and then I log on to see the girl I’m into is hanging out with someone else.” 

Your eyes softened as you looked at Jack. "The girl you're into, huh?"

He ran a hand through his damp hair, looking slightly flustered. "I mean... yeah. Isn't it obvious by now?"

You stepped closer, your hand moving from his shoulder to rest on his chest. "Maybe. But it's nice to hear you say it."

Jack's arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. "I'm tired of playing games, y/n. I want you. For real."

Your breath hitched at the intensity in his eyes. "What happened to the cocky player who was just trying to get me into bed?"

He shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. "That guy realized he actually likes spending time with you, farmers market and all."

You couldn't help but laugh. "Even when I'm giving you a hard time?"

“Especially then,” he said, bringing his lips down to yours. The kiss started soft but soon escalated, your hands tangling in his hair, tugging softly. “I’m still mad at you though.”

“I can think of a few ways to make it up to you,” you murmured against his lips. 

[ozzgin]

okay, hear me out: mean girl!reader x nerdy/sub!yandere

nerd!yan who gets bullied by you all the time, with harsh name calling and forcing him to do your homework.

nerd!yan who grows intrigued with you. you’re so confident, so pretty, so cool! how can he not like you?

nerd!yan who’s slowly growing more obsessed. his breath hitches whenever you loom over him with that annoyingly hot smirk of yours, calling him such mean, degrading names

nerd!yan who gets jealous whenever he sees you targeting someone else. you can’t bully them!! you should pay attention to him and only him. oh well, he’ll just have to eliminate the competition, so you can go back to “tormenting” him again.

nerd!yan who’s really such a pervert! he followed you home and was pleasuring himself to your scent that lingered on your clothing… such dirty behaviour!

mean girl!reader who returns home to find one of her classmates in her bedroom, and how can she not smile at the sight? he’s so pretty, such a cute little plaything…

mean girl!reader who had always been aware of nerd!yan’s obsessive tendencies, and played along. but now that he’s been caught red handed…

mean girl!reader who degrades poor nerd!yan for being such a disgusting pervert, but submits to nerd!yan’s fantasies anyway. she plays with him, leaving harsh love bites and scratches over his soft skin, reducing him to a moaning, whiney mess.

nerd!yan who’s basically your pet now, obediently following you throughout school, happily accepting all your orders, no matter how demeaning or gross they are.

people who even dare look your way with romantic interest? they get disposed of in…well, let’s just say, messy. oh, but not that nerd!yan will ever let you see it happen! your precious, beautiful eyes should be shielded from such violent acts. but if you ever ask… tilt your head playfully with a soft smile and ask him to let you watch, he might.

tldr; mean girl and a nerdy yandere that are both equally toxic for each other

have an awesome day!! I would really like to see you write a concept like this <3

-Ash

Nerd!Loser!Yandere x Mean Girl!Bully!Reader

They say being in the right relationship motivates you to strive for the best version of yourself. Sometimes, the opposite is true. What happens when your soulmate brings out your most depraved self? Content: female reader, mildly NSFW, obsessive behavior, violence, bullying, loser is meant in a loving way, yandere consents to everything

You really aren't that bad of a person. Or at least you weren't before you met the odd man you now call your boyfriend. How did it all begin? For the sake of full disclosure, alright, you have always been somewhat on the mean side. A little too sarcastic, a little too blunt, perhaps a little too harsh. You don't like soft people and have little patience for their stumbling attempts. But, you can hold your tongue as long as it doesn't involve you.

The meeting, at least from your point of view, was entirely accidental. Despite just starting your university year, your charisma had quickly gained you enough friends and acquaintances to have a stable sample of potential group partners. Except for one class. One single missing person, and you were asked to include a name you didn't recognize. Some young man who almost never showed up to class.

Oh, but he did. He was there for every lecture, for every seminar. His, and yours. His first encounter with you was not what most would call romantic. On day one he'd gotten lost. The crowded halls, the new environment, the noise, the smell, everything overwhelmed him, and he found himself wandering in a panic, until at last he bumped into you. The impact sent him straight onto the ground, books pathetically spilling from his trembling arms. You, on the other hand, remained standing as if nothing happened. "Pull yourself together, dumbass", you hissed through your teeth, looking into his eyes for one brief moment before moving on to your friends: "You have to give it to them straight, otherwise they'll think we're still in high school and someone will hold their hand all the time. It's embarrassing! Grown adults!"

He can't remember anything else from that day. Only your voice, your expression, your stance. Somehow, for whatever reason, that "dumbass" went straight to his heart. To think you'd look after him, a complete stranger. You were right, he needed to recollect himself and figure it out. Something even his own mother omitted to mention.

How he wished he could be like you. The way professors relied on you for discussions, the way your friends flocked for advice. But see, he knew you were faking most of it. That overly sweet smile and exaggerated politeness, all of it was a mask you'd learned to wear at any time. It only came off when dealing with people like him. There was a certain pride in that fact: he'd seen the real you. Not your "friends".

The more he thought about it, the more plagued by need he became. The need to hear you speak to him again, in that raw, unfiltered voice, with that disgusted glare piercing through his entire being. Thus, he did his best - as per your advice - to find another opportunity. The group work. One glance at him was enough for you to remember: "Ah, fuck, you're that dumbass from first day", you whined in frustration. Instant arousal.

And so, your unusual partnership began to develop. Or rather, your game of tormentor versus tormented. (Un)Paid actors and nothing more. It didn't take you long to notice his strange reaction to your verbal aggressions, almost as if the man relished in your ruthlessness. He seemed to know exactly what buttons to press in order to anger you. In return, you decided to see how far you could go until he'd finally cave in. From insults, to flicking him in the forehead, shoving him against the wall, ordering him around like a collared dog. You had your suspicions, but it all culminated when you went over to his little dorm room for a final project review. You'd gotten so upset - what did he even do? - that you pushed him hard into the ground and straddled him, holding onto the collar of his jacket and shouting profanities. A horrified grimace struck his face, and you froze. Have you gone too far? Was he finally going to ask that you stop, and put this strange charade behind? "P-please give me a moment, I..." he panted, frantically trying to move you aside. "I need to take care of myself. I'm so sorry." You hesitantly stood up and noticed the obvious erection in his pants.

You have a strange effect on him. He is not incapable; he knows it very well. And yet, the temptation is too great: to pretend, to exaggerate, to fail, anything to have you take the lead and lovingly scold him in the process. "What do you mean you're too anxious to present your part? Christ, you're useless. Utterly, completely useless." He can't wait to pleasure himself later to the memory of your words. Truly addicting. He doesn't mind being a doormat if it's your feet keeping him down. You bring out his most pathetic, perverted, deplorable self.

The same can be said about you. You've never been this mean to anyone. You hadn't even intended to reach this point, yet something keeps riling you up. Maybe it's his pleading pout whenever he's being reprimanded. The hooded, lustful eyes gazing up at you submissively and waiting for the next burning whip of your tongue. He brings out the worst in you and he loves every second of it.

You unlock the door and march into the bedroom (you've since moved in together). Without a warning, you grip his chin tightly and give the man a firm tug, forcing him to pay attention. "You did something, didn't you? I was supposed to meet with a classmate for coffee and he vanished without a trace. Won't answer my texts or calls." He shakes his head in denial at first, wide innocent eyes glistening in fear. Ah, he can't help it. His lips curl in a crooked grin. He's been caught. You shove two fingers in his mouth, and without delay he twirls his tongue around them hungrily. "What a psychotic bitch you are. You want to be the only one, huh? Is that what it is about?" Between the slurps and the whimpers, you can discern a hurried nod.

[bluejutdae]

• best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Minho x you

Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, Jisung, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin

genre: friends to lovers

warnings: asshole date, nothing happens but reader thinks her date might follow her home

This night has been terrible so far. Your friend convinced you to go out with one of her colleagues to get over your crush for Minho, and you knew it was pointless, but she insisted so much you have lost the will to fight. So you wore a nice dress and a minute before you left the apartment, the guy texted you saying there was a change of plans and to meet two hours later and at a different location. Is the dating scene like this for everybody? You haven’t dated anyone for a long time, a bit because of how things ended with your last boyfriend but mostly because of the raging (unreciprocated) crush for Minho.

Minho’s now one of your closest friends, but you never actually gave up on your feelings for him. It’s almost comfortable, safe in a way, to love someone knowing things won’t change but won’t end either.

But for the sake of shutting up your friend, you are now in a very shitty situation. The guy is pretty, you’re mature enough to admit that, but he’s a major asshole. Even ignoring the last minute change of plans, the fact that he arrived 25 minutes later and apparently the new location is a nightclub. His hands have been on you the moment he introduced himself and the more you try to put some distance between you two, the more he’s all over you. You could just leave, that’s true. It’s also true that this guy is very set on never leaving your side and he’s so pushy you’re certain he wouldn’t hesitate to follow you home.

You wonder when Minho is going to be here so you can at least leave the club and have him keep you company, when you feel a hand grabbing your wrist. You turn to find the hand holding you belongs to Minho himself and he’s looking at you with a surly expression, teeth clenched and a frown between his eyebrows. “We’re going home.”

His voice is cold and firm, you’ve never heard him speak to you like that. Your date notices the scene and turns to Minho. “Woah dude, she’s mine tonight.”

Minho’s cold stare rests on the guy and at the same time your friend makes a step to place himself between you and your date. “She’ll never be yours, not tonight, not never. She belongs to me. Dude.” The last word was spat through Minho’s teeth, mocking and a bit cruel.

Words die on the guy’s tongue when Minho gets into his face and says something too quiet for you to hear.

A moment later he’s gently pushing you away and through the crowd, towards the exit.

“Well, that was intense,” you joke when you’re safe on the sidewalk.

“Don’t you ever put yourself into a situation like this. Ever again.” He’s on your face, almost screaming the words at you, anger contorting his face.

You can understand he was worried, but you don’t like the way he’s talking to you.

“Ya, Minho! Do you think I wanted that?” You raise your eyebrows. “I didn’t call you so you could scold me! I called you because I trusted you to help me, I know I was in a shitty situation!”

“And yet you still got into this situation!” He rebuts, and in this moment you hate him a little.

Why is he judging you like this? Why is he blaming you? Sure, you were a bit too naive but it’s not like you consciously decided to put yourself in a potentially dangerous situation.

“This clearly wasn’t what I expected.”

“No? You’re the one who decided to go to a club with a man you didn’t know. And you came alone! Was bringing a friend too easy?”

“Fuck you, Minho!”

You stalk away, towards the direction of the bus stop. Why is he mad at you now? He’s never been mean or cruel to you, despite what lots of people say about him, he’s a caring friend.

You can hear his footsteps getting close and you almost laugh at the thought that comes to your mind: you are always so focused on him, you can now recognize his footsteps.

“I parked in the other direction.”

“Then go the other direction. I don’t need you here. Sorry I bothered you. I won’t be your problem anymore.”

“You are my problem.”

“Oh, so I really am a problem to you.” You can believe him. All this because he had to come get you? You didn’t think it’d be such a hassle.

“Yes. You’ve been my problem since I met you.”

“You’re being so fucking cruel tonight, Minho.”

“I am not- can you stop walking?” He asks, sounding exasperated. You stop and face him, one hand on your hip and your lips pursed in disapproval. “So you can tell me more about how I’m a problem?”

“I didn’t say a problem.”

“You said exac-“

“I said MY problem! Emphasis on my. Because you’re not other people’s problem. And I don’t want you to belong to other guys, don’t want them to call you theirs! I want you to be mine.”

You stare at him for half a minute, silent and still. Putting aside the fact that he’s repeating the fact that you’re a problem, you try to read between the lines.

“Is this a fucked up way to tell me you have feeling for me?”

“Yes.”

This is ridiculous. Really ridiculous. Your crush has feelings for you. And the most backwards way of confessing. Well, considering he is Minho, it’s pretty in character for him. Still ridiculous, though.

“I didn’t know you decided to go on dates.” He says it like a second thought.

“I didn’t.”

“You were on a date.”

“Doesn’t mean I decided to go on dates.”

“Means exactly that.”

“Jesus, Minho. Can you ever drop something?”

“Not when it’s about you.”

This asshole. How can you find his otherwise annoying answers amusing?

“My friend insisted so much that she wore me down, so I accepted this date with her colleague. So, as I said, I haven’t decided to go on dates.”

“Good.”

“You can never be normal, uh? Always with a weird answer.”

“You like weird.”

“I do.”

“You’re normal. I like normal.”

He likes normal, and he likes you. And he tells you so in a Minho way at least another ten times in the following minutes, during your way home.

You say goodbye and you’re about to get out of the car, when he puts his hand on your arm, an hesitant expression on his face. “No more other guys, right?”

You smile softly at him. “No more other guys. There hasn’t really been another guy since I met you.”

His smile is all you need.

[thenightwolf51]

"Danny was born a Wayne" AU except he's Bruce's grand uncle. The result of a one time drunken affair, shortly before Kenneth Wayne's death, to a young unmarried woman who gave the baby up for adoption.

(Whether the Fenton's, and therefore Amity, were just ahead of their times or the DC timeline is shifted a bit so that DP happens in its cannon era is up to you. Dealers choice, though now that i know about her i just love badass widowed prohibition leader Laura Elizabeth Wayne)

Danny grows up knowing hes adopted and loved by the Fentons but something (dealer's choice) happens and he loses his family and friends (maybe the whole town goes too?). In an attempt to avoid a Dan situation he flees into the Infinite Realm and doesn't stop.

He just wanders, time passes in its weird Realms way, not that Danny truly notices. A protector spirit thats lossed everything it protected. Its a wonder he doesn't fade and he actually might've if it wasn't for his human side.

But its a tug at his core that brings him from his near catatonic wandering. Gone before he can even understand it but enough to shake him back to himself. Enough to know that hes nowhere near ready to go anywhere familiar so he continues on, his wandering no less pointless but at least he's aware again.

What feels like a relatively short time later he gets another tug, and this time he manages to follow it.

He follows it invisibly through a natural portal that drops him somewhere in New Jersey and all the way to a fancy hospital room in the gloomiest city he's ever seen.

In there he sees his half brother Patrick Wayne, though he wont figure out their connection for a few more years, holding little Agatha. She's adorable in her little dress and pigtails and her sweet face causes that familiar tug he recognizes from what must have been six years ago given the girls age.

Then a nurse comes in and hands a little bundle to what must be the mother (whos name i cant find) and Danny takes one look at the little core tugger who brought him here and just melts. Even without knowing yet that this is his last remaining family, his instincts latch on and he vows to protect and care for the Waynes.

And he does.

He finds his forgetful brother's documents and keeps Aggy company when everyone else is busy and soothes baby Thomas so his poor sister-in-law can get some more sleep. He ices fevers and bruised knees and helps on later games of hide and seek.

He very rarely becomes visible and only to the children. His grief over the Fenton's convinces him its better to protect his new family from the shadows.

Danny explores every inch of the manor, including secret passages and an underground cave system. He claims a forgotten room in the back of the attic as his own, which over the years fill up with knickknacks, heirlooms, and pictures of the family. Even a gift or two from Agatha, who hadn't stopped believing in their shadowy guardian like her brother did when Danny felt they were too old to see him without drawing suspicion.

The manor becomes his haunt and he always knows where each family member is within it. And when any guests have some no good intentions.

And when baby Bruce is born tugging at his core and with the bluest little eyes, he welcomes the fussy little thing. And makes sure dear Martha never knows just how fussy baby Bruce really is, otherwise she might've never had a full nights sleep.

Danny blames himself for not being there when Thomas and Martha die, and promises to never leave Bruces side, practically becoming the boy's living shadow. Watching over him as he gets older, secretly aiding him in his training. Danny feels a bit of pride when Bruce takes some inspiration from the old stories Thomas told him of the shadowy Wayne family protector when creating his Batman identity, glad his nephew still remembers him even if he hasn't shown himself since the now young man was six.

Danny continues to protect and care for the family in a variety of ways over the years even as the family grows.

Lightening Alfred's workload, softening Dick's falls, calming Jason's temper both pre and post pit, hiding Tim's coffee when the boy hasn't slept in far too long, providing plenty of shadows and hiding nooks for Cass, helping Damian hide the litter of kittens he found.

And no one seems to know he's there, except maybe Cass and he's pretty sure Alfred has been know since he first started working for the family. No one knows, that is, until Duke Thomas moves in and lookes right at him watching invisibly from the sidelines.

(@omnicrafts @dcxdpdabbles @hdgnj @ailithnight @nelkcats @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 i dont know, the main point of all this is that Danny's been protecting the Wayne family for decades and no one, except maybe Alfred, knew until Duke moved in)

[beelinx]

heyyaaa! If you have time in ur schedule, could you please do ‘protective boyfriend’ head-cannons or a blurb for Tsukishima and Osamu? (I humbly ask of you if you’re able to and if you can Matsukawa or Tendo as well😔🙏ONLY IF YOU WANT TO THO)

remember to drink water heh

haikyuu men as protective bfs <3

ft. tsukishima, osamu, matsukawa, and tendou !

note: honestly it was sm fun to write this, but i think most of this is ooc and over exaggerated 😭 anyways chat think of this as a new year's gift ! 🥳 warnings: annoying men... mention of tits in osamu's. use of babe, bitch, and prude in tendou's. use of babe in matsukawa's. ooc tendou and matsukawa probably 😖 fem!reader !!

✧｡ kei tsukishima

going to your boyfriend’s volleyball matches was always a fun experience. the electricity and passion some players exuded was truly contagious. 

also, you got to see him being all hot and sweaty.

definitely an amazing time!

everyone in the sendai frogs were always incredibly welcoming to you, too. his teammates even ask about you when you’re not there (or, at least that’s what tsukishima tells you). regardless of whether or not he’s telling the truth, you would say you do feel truly welcome and comfortable around there.

today was match day. you made sure kei had everything ready, though it’s not like he’s the type to be forgetful or anything. still, he lets you fuss over him all you want without uttering a complaint (which you know must have been truly difficult for him).

once you got to the location where his team would be playing, he bid you goodbye with a short peck on the cheek. his teammates waved to you, too. there were two new teammates, just as kei had told you. you recognized kentaro from highschool, and though he still had the same grumpy attitude, he was nice enough to you. the other guy, though… you had no clue who he was.

settling on a seat with a decent view of the match, you prepared yourself for the exhilarating time you were probably about to have.

and that you did.

the sendai frogs won 2-1, and you really couldn’t have been happier. well, actually, it felt as if you were about to have a heart attack throughout the duration of that whole game. everytime kei jumped up to block a powerful spike you felt your heart jump. you imagined any doctor would think you’re close to having your heart malfunction.

you basically raced out of the audience seats, already ready to jump into your boyfriend’s arms and congratulate him with many kisses and hugs that he will probably complain about. whatever —he can mutter all the complaints he wants about pda and stuff, but you’re too happy to not smother him with love.

one problem, though.

you could not find him anywhere.

no matter, you figured he was probably in the changing room or something. you could just wait outside for him for a bit, and if he didn’t come out, you’d go look for him.

meanwhile, tsukishima was trying his hardest to not blow up at his new teammate.

“is she your friend, then?” he asked him. it was probably his 100th question regarding you at this point, and he was well past his tolerance limit.

“no.”

“so… your sister?”

tsukishima scoffed, you two didn’t even look alike. “no.”

“jeez, no need to be so harsh, dude. i just think she’s hot,” the guy stated, while changing into a clean shirt.

koganegawa, who’d been listening in, cheerfully piped up. “well, she’s his girlfriend! so i don’t think tsuki appreciates that very much.”

the guy’s eyes widened. “oh. i didn’t know dude, my bad.”

tsukishima cast him a cold glare and resumed changing without another word.

you were getting antsy waiting for him. what is taking him so long? you were bored. well, you figured enough time had passed that it’d be okay for you to go looking for him, so you did. but, while you were heading his way, you bumped into a man.

“oh! i’m so sorry! i was distracted,” you apologized deeply.

“it’s no problem, really. i-” the man said, before stopping abruptly.

“...is something the matter?” you asked, noticing the way the man’s wide gaze roamed over you.

a sudden grin appeared on his face, his expression resembling one of someone who’d just won the lottery ticket. 

“you’re absolutely gorgeous.”

you sputtered, taken aback by his directness. “oh uh… thank you?”

“can i have your number?” he asked, smirking at you.

“i have a boyfriend so uh…”

“awe come one, he doesn't have to know, right?” he chuckled. suddenly, you recognized the man in front of you. this was tsuki’s new teammate, the one you didn’t know anything about. he saw you with tsuki before the match, so why would he be asking you out? surely he knew you were his teammate's girlfriend?

“come on, just your number, yeah?” he persisted. “you’re allowed to have friends, aren't you?”

you laughed awkwardly, “well i um…”

“move.”

your boyfriend's harsh voice saved you from answering. the guy’s head snapped back, towards his teammate who was now towering over him. he suddenly seemed incredibly flustered, as if he hadn’t been expecting to be caught.

“oh, sorry man. i was just-”

“hitting on my girlfriend?”

“n-no! we were just talking, right?” he said, directing his question towards you.

tsukishima didn’t have to wait for your answer, he knew well enough what this man’s intentions were. “i would suggest you leave her alone, unless you’d like to make this a bigger problem than it has to be.”

the guy hesitated for a second, before he finally spoke. “y-yeah, of course. my bad.”

he scurried away, not without taking a few looks back at you two. your boyfriend scoffed, seemingly angrier and more upset at the situation than you were.

“that was hot.”

tsukishima’s widened as he snapped his head towards you and stared as if you were the most insane person he’d ever met.

“excuse me?”

“you’re hot when you’re protective,” you giggled. “do that more often.”

he raised a brow at you. “you’re crazy.”

“aww, that’s mean!” you fake pouted. “you have to make it up to me now.”

he tilted his head quizzically at you, deciding to humor you. “how?”

you grinned from ear to ear. “let’s go shopping!

noticing the way your eyes sparkled as you suggested that, he couldn’t possibly say no.

he rolled his eyes and adjusted his glasses. “fine,” he agreed. “but we’re eating first. i’m starving.”

✧｡ osamu miya

most of your dates with osamu were indoors, in a private space where the only people around were you two. just relaxing with you is his favorite type of date. still though, he loves to spoil you. so, that’s exactly what he’s doing today.

“‘samu this is too much,” you’d told him.

“nonsense,” he replied simply. “i’m your boyfriend, therefore it’s my duty to spoil ya, isn’t it?”

“but this,” you said, signaling to the expensive outfit he’d bought you. “this is too expensive.”

he simply shook his head. “get dressed, yeah? i’m taking ya out.”

all you could do was roll your eyes and try to smother the grin that was threatening to come up.

the outfit he’d bought you was nice, really nice. you’d seen it at a store before, and you couldn’t help but think it was incredibly beautiful. he’d noticed, apparently, as he’d bought it without even taking note of the price tag. it was also kind of revealing, but nothing all that scandalous. you felt beautiful, really. you took note to make sure to be extremely grateful to him.

osamu loves cooking for you, he really does. he’s basically become your private chef, which works out since you also adore his cooking. tonight, however, he was temporarily relinquishing his title and taking you to some expensive restaurant. though he’d try to deny it, this was more a treat to him than to you. after all, he’s the one practically drooling as he looks over the menu.

you giggled as you looked at him, quickly scanning over the menu and deciding on what you’d be having.

“hello, are you both ready to order?”

you tilted your head up to look at the waiter, straightening your back as you realized you’d been slouching. “oh, yes, thank you,” you replied, quickly listing off your order, pointing at the items in the menu.

when you turned to look at osamu, he was staring daggers at the waiter. you frowned and kicked his leg under the table. he coughed awkwardly and listed off his order, too.

“what was that?” you asked, both concerned but also slightly amused.

“my order?”

“don’t mess with me, ‘samu.” you threatened.

“he was starin’ at ya.” he answered simply.

“well. yeah. i was ordering.”

“no, i mean like… staring at ya,” he emphasized. osamu sighed, “put this on.” 

he took off his jacket and handed it to you. “ya can take it off when we leave. or we can ask for a different waiter.”

you scrunched your eyebrows. “‘samu i really don’t think-”

“he was starin’ directly at your tits.”

your eyes widened. “oh!”

“yeah, so unless ya want me to bust open that guy’s head, please wear this for now.”

it was impossible to smother your grin as you put on his jacket. you giggled softly, “you’re so cute when you’re mad.”

he rolled his eyes lightheartedly, “sure.”

“oookay, here we go,” said the waiter as he returned minutes later. he gave osamu his food wordlessly, maybe too intimidated by the way he was glaring at him, or maybe just because he didn’t care.

“and food for the beautiful lady!” he chuckled as he placed your food in front of you. osamu’s jaw tightened. you looked down to your plate awkwardly.

“...thanks,” you said, starting to eat.

the waiter didn’t leave. it seemed he was waiting to say something, but didn’t. he hesitated, and once it finally seemed as if he was going to get the words out, osamu cleared his throat.

“we’re all done here, no need to linger,” he grumbled.

the man seemed taken aback by osamu’s hostility. you kicked him underneath the table again. “of course. right. i’ll be back later with your check.”

osamu hummed in reply. when he turned back to you, he was scowling. his silly face almost made you forget immediately about the awkward interaction that just took place. almost.

“you looked so mad, ‘samu. i almost thought you were gonna walk out of here.”

he looked at you as if you were a lunatic, then turned his gaze towards his food. “no jerk could ever make me waste food.”

you laughed. of course, nothing could ever come between osamu and his love for food. not even an annoying waiter. you suspected that, if an apocalypse ever took place, he would also prioritize his food over anything. except maybe you.

“when we’re done we should go get dessert. not here, though. i don’t want to see that fucker again.”

all you could do was laugh and roll your eyes at his pettiness.

✧｡ issei matsukawa

matsukawa is an easy going guy. he doesn’t lose his temper that easily. he doesn’t get mad over silly jokes. he lets maki tease him, doesn’t he? he tries his best to keep his composure during games. he even keeps his cool when his little brother is being all pissy. and yeah, he might get pissed at kentaro every once in a while, but who wouldn’t, what with that guy’s attitude and all?

that is the mantra he keeps repeating to himself over and over as he watches some jackass try to put the moves on you.

okay, well, that jackass is actually a really good friend of yours.

…which actually might make it all worse for him.

he can’t insult the guy or fight him, he’s your friend after all. at least that’s what you think. you seem blissfully oblivious to the guy’s painful crush over you.

matsukawa figures he can either break the news to you, or let you remain happily unaware. 

or better yet, a secret third option!

he can just break the guy’s jaw and make him never bother you again.

actually, that one might be a little extreme.

well, he had to do something. watching that jerk trying to get all touchy touchy with you pissed him the fuck off. even more than kentaro’s snarky comments.

“babe,” he called.

your head snapped towards him, your mouth immediately twisting into a delighted grin at the sight of him.

“issei!” you exclaimed. “i didn’t know you’d be here today. i thought you were hanging out with maki?”

he was, but maki had to leave early for a job interview. the detail didn’t matter, though. “oh, i just missed you so much i had to come back to you.” he snaked his arms around your waist, burrowing his head on your neck.

you slightly scrunched your eyebrows at his odd behavior. it wasn’t like him to act this way.

“i hope maki isn’t upset that you ditched him to hang out with me.”

“oh, not at all! he knows how important it is for guys to hang around their girlfriends.” he said, adding emphasis on the last word as he pulled away from you. he stared down the guy and pushed his shoulders back to appear taller. though it’s not like he needed to, mostly anyone can confirm how intimidating matsukawa can be thanks to his height.

your friend laughed nervously. “y-yeah.”

matsukawa wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “we should go on a date, then. what do you feel like eating?”

“oh, we were actually just about to go have lunch,” your friend chimed in, his voice suddenly sounding sure of himself.

matsukawa cast a dismissive glare towards him. “well she’s my girlfriend, isn’t she?”

your friend scoffed, “i don’t think-”

“perfect, then!” he interrupted your friend before he could object. “let’s go, babe. we can go to your favorite place. my treat, of course.”

“o-okay?” you replied, confused at the interaction that had just taken place.

you let matsukawa drag you all the way to the parking lot before pulling your arm away.

“what the hell was that?” you exclaimed.

“what was what?” he said, already seemingly back to his normal attitude.

“you were so rude to him!”

“i don’t think you should be friends with him anymore.” he simply answered, not exactly taking into account your previous comment.

you sputtered before finally saying, “since when do you have a say in who i’m friends with?”

he cast his gaze on you, soft, despite the current conversation. “i just don’t think he’s good company to have around.”

“what do you mean?”

he sighed, before finally admitting, “he’s in love with you.”

you blinked repeatedly at him in shock. “he is?”

“yes, and i don’t like that.”

you opened and closed your mouth, unsure on what to say.

“i didn’t know.”

“i know.”

both of you stood silently in the parking lot, before he finally gave in and spoke first. “i don’t want to control who you are or aren’t friends with. it’s not my job,” he sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “but i don’t feel exactly comfortable having you around him, knowing his intentions and all.”

you stared at him before meekly replying, “okay.”

he tilted his head, “okay?”

you nodded. “i understand what you mean. i, uhm… i’ll have a chat with him, to see if he does have feelings for me. i’ll cut him off if he does, because i don’t think i’d feel very comfortable around him then either.”

matsukawa nodded too. “alright. let’s go have lunch then. i think the place closes earlier today.”

you paused, “actually… can we go to the new place that just opened up nearby instead? i’ve been wanting to try it out.”

he laughed, “sure, whatever you say.”

✧｡ satori tendou

parties are fun, aren’t they? all the people, blasting music, drinks, and more, make an amazing atmosphere for those who enjoy it. and halloween parties are even better! who doesn’t enjoy a fun costume?

tendou can’t really say it’s his atmosphere. he also wouldn’t say that he fits into the group of people who don't like them. he’s just… okay with them. though, for you, he’s more than okay with them.

he let you put him in some cheesy halloween costume. a chef, you told him. you were dressed as some rat, though he thought you looked way too gorgeous to be called that. you had insisted the idea was cute, it was from a movie, after all. and, while he wasn’t entirely against the idea to begin with, all your insistence convinced him he had no way out of it either way.

“don’t you like it when i pull on your hair?” you had teased him. “it’s the perfect role for you.”

“and that is why i’m buzzing allllll my hair off.”

“don’t you dare!”

so, here you were. a big halloween party, both of you matching in a couple’s costume. he looked okay, but you… you looked absolutely breathtaking. before you left you had made a comment about being a sexy mouse, chuckling afterwards. a reference, he figured. he’d have to make you watch the movie with him later.

he definitely wasn’t the only one who thought you looked amazing. you know, taking into account the guy that was practically hanging onto you for dear life.

immediately, once he noticed that and how uncomfortable you looked, he rushed over to save you.

“ohhh, what do we have here?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light to hide his clear annoyance.

“oh, hey dude,” replied the man, having a noticeably slur to his words. “just tryna convince this babe to give me a little kiss, or come to the bathroom with me for some fun, ya feel me?” the man laughed, the smell of alcohol so strong he bet everyone in the party would have smelled it. 

tendou narrowed his eyes. “personal space sure is a fun thing, huh!” he said as he grabbed the man from his shoulders and tried to get him away from you.

the man pulled away and got closer to you once more, making you scoff in irritation, trying to pull him off once more. “ugh, this asshole just grabbed onto me while i was getting a drink!” you complained, turning your attention back to the man. “and i already told you, i have a boyfriend!”

the man faked being upset. “he doesn’t have to know, gorgeous. now stop being a prude bitch and-”

tendou’s fist moved faster than the man’s mouth.

the man stumbled back, caressing his jaw in shock. you scurried far away from him, standing behind tendou, whose fake cheerful attitude was long gone. 

he turned back to look at you, his face laced with concern.

“i’m fine,” you told him. noticing his doubt, you added, “i promise, okay? i’m fine.”

he nodded, seemingly convinced for now. and turned his attention back to the man.

it was almost like a switch turned on, really. first he was sweet and worried about you, then he returned to his mocking face. you figured it was an act, though. he wasn’t the type to get incredibly angry at others. but he messed with you, so tendou would probably murder the guy if he could.

the man spit into the ground and scoffed, “what the hell is wrong with you, man?”

“ohh, you know, i was just testing my theory on how many hits it would take for a pervert to get knocked out!” he fake-giggled. “do you want me to keep going?”

the man’s scornful gaze was casted onto tendou, who didn’t really seem like he was joking.

“you’re creepy as fuck man,” coughed the man, “and you’re insane. dunno why she’d choose you.”

“well i know why no one chose you,” tendou said, dragging the last word in a mocking way.

“let’s go.”

tendou snapped his head toward you, his wide eyes curious as he tilted his head.

“huh?”

“i’m tired. i just want to get some sleep,” you said, your voice so quiet you could’ve been an actual mouse. it broke his heart, really. how excited you were for the party, just to have your mood destroyed by some random creep.

he blinked at you, then blinked at the man, before abruptly standing tall. he decided it was best if he let the man be, and put his focus towards bettering your mood. you could watch that movie you referenced before, but you’d have to stop and buy snacks first. no matter, you are in dire need of more snacks in your pantry, so it’d work out. 

his looming frame towered over you as he replied, already set on his plan, “okay, let’s go!”