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shroudcore · 3 years

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Speak now, or forever hold your peace. (Finale)

Summary: The ghosts may have left, but the wedding they officiated is not something to be easily forgotten. Will unsaid feelings remain hidden? Idia thinks so, after seeing you with your admirers.

Idia x GN!reader. Reader is MC, or takes the role of MC in this story.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Warnings: none

After that 3-star difficulty sidequest, it was finally time for the ghosts to leave. They were filing out through a shimmering silver portal to the Land of the Dead, which you joked about jumping into “for the meme”. Idia was quick to discourage it. The joke would’ve been funny at any other time than right now.

Each ghost made sure to give the newlyweds their congratulations. Each congratulation made Idia want to take off into the night, never to be seen again. It was beyond embarrassing. Unbearable. Way past his limit of social interaction capability. Things were getting way too much to handle for his now-empty Energy bar.

While Idia longed for the comfort and isolation of his dorm room, you were the one who thanked the well-wishers and said the goodbyes—from a safe distance, of course.

“When we return, I want you to meet our baby!” Eliza announced before she stepped into the portal. You and Idia shared a look. As if reading each other’s minds, you checked your schoolmates’ faces for their reactions—which did not disappoint. Different ways of saying “Don’t come back!” filled the hall, in varying degrees of anger and vulgarity. Before she disappeared for good, Eliza huffed and stuck her nose up in the air—an expression that tonight’s failed suitors knew all too well.

At her departure, the portal shrunk into a mere speck until it completely disappeared. Then came the loudest cheers of the night serving as Victory fanfare. It was all over! But before he went, Idia hoped to say goodbye and take a look at you in your suit one last time. Or maybe even ask you to hang out tomorrow, depending on his current Courage level.

While he silently rehearsed his thank-yous and good-byes, he wondered if you knew that you were still holding his hand. He decided not to mention it.

Unfortunately, his brief moment of (weak) celebration was cut short when he noticed that the now-mobile Groom Rejects were approaching. They might as well have red bars floating over their heads to warn him of danger. He froze, contemplating whether to:

> Bear it and stay with you just until he was prepared to say goodbye (+10 relationship points -20 comfort LV)

> Just run off on his own without saying anything, ignoring your calls. (-10 relationship points +10 comfort LV)

For now, he decided to stick with Option 1. Just a little bit longer.

“That was amazing!” Deuce exclaimed, rushing over to give you a high-five. You laughed and met other high-fives, low-fives, fist bumps, and head pats that came your way with that lovely smile of yours.

Suddenly, Ace rips you away from him. Suddenly, you weren’t holding hands anymore. The loud first-year put his arm around you and Idia couldn’t help but notice how easy and natural it looked. Meanwhile, there he was: someone who needed to rehearse his goodbyes.

Clearly, there was a huge level difference here and Idia was the one disadvantaged.

“Our hero!” Ace yelled, inspiring more cheers. The distance between you and Idia grew as your wave of admirers and friends swept you farther and farther away. He was an outsider once again, stuck watching the fun from the sidelines. Their eyes sparkled. Their mouths smiled. Their loud voices laughed and praised you and laughed with you again.

They loved you. And Idia was no different.

Everyone’s Friend and the Weird Shut-in. Was there hope?

“Brother, I’m so glad you’re safe!” Ortho’s voice cut through his stream of thoughts. Immediately, he feels the weight on his shoulders lighten.

He watched as his brother, his beacon of hope, made his way around your fan club until he eventually reached his spot. Ortho wouldn’t care if he looked like a loser, standing there awkwardly at the side all alone. Finally, he was saved.

My savior! “Ortho! Thank you, thank you…”

“No injuries… tense muscles… an increase in cortisol production,” Ortho muttered, frowning. “Are you okay?”

“No…”

Ortho nods. “We’ll return to the dorm, then. But before that, we should thank the Prefect.”

“Oh… right.” Idia looked over to you, still surrounded by your “fans” like the SSR character you were. You listened to Azul, who prattled on and on about something that was oh-so-interesting that you couldn’t take your eyes off him. And Vil judged your suit’s design, reaching out to fix something near your neck. You cracked up at something Floyd said. You posed and smiled beside Cater as he took a selfie with you.

His mind raced as it continuously spotted the students on his list and everything they did. What was so interesting about Azul? What was so funny about Floyd? Did you like Vil’s hardworking, confident attitude? Did you think Cater had a way with words?

He looked away.

“Ortho, I’m going back to my room,” he said with a heavy heart, admitting Defeat. He was underleveled, had zero energy, and zero SP (social points). He’ll see you… some other time. After his cry-sesh, maybe.

“Huh? Don’t you want to talk to the Prefect first?”

“I’ll just… DM them later,” he lied. In truth, all he wanted was to drown himself in a video game while he gorged on candy and tried not to think about you. Ortho’s eyes narrowed, but followed him as he sneakily left the hall anyway.

You’d understand, right?

Once he and Ortho were out, he looked back at the hall doors, hating himself for being too shy and cowardly to make a move. He imagined charging back into the room, wedging himself in between your friends, grabbing your arm, and pulling you away. Then he’ll kabedon you and—

Who was he kidding? He can’t do that, and you probably wouldn’t like that.

“It was terrible, brother. Nobody wanted to help!” Ortho said, and Idia thinks he didn’t need to be reminded that nobody liked him.

“When the Prefect and I reached Diasomnia, we expected them to reject us too…” he mused. “But Malleus Draconia agreed to help us! Can you believe it?”

“Wait… Malleus-shi?”

Ortho nodded enthusiastically. “Yes… because the Prefect talked to him… and then he cast a charm on them to help us ward off those ghosts! It was really nice of him.”

“I see…” Idia knew that you and Malleus were friends. But to actually help you and him? Maybe your relationship with the Diasomnia dorm leader ran deeper than he thought. Why else would he go through that trouble?

“The Prefect volunteered without needing to be asked, you know,” said Ortho, who he now noticed was observing him carefully. Idia tried to ignore the way his brother’s eyes lingered on him as they walked (floated in Ortho’s case).

“...I’m so glad their plan worked!”

Wait, what?

“Volunteered? Their plan?” All this time, he thought you’d been forced to do this by the Headmaster! You did always rant about Crowley promising you different sorts of rewards if you did jobs here and there. But… you got yourself into this mess… all for him?

Idia looked at the hand you held just moments ago and dared not hope again. Maybe you would have done this for anyone else in his place. Maybe you treated everyone the same, and it just so happened that he was the one kidnapped by a ghost bride.

Still, he felt bad for not doing as Ortho said earlier. It was too late to turn back, however, as Idia and Ortho finally reached the Hall of Mirrors.

“Finally… I’m so tired,” said Idia, meaning it in all ways. But as he put one leg forward to enter the door to Ignihyde, he heard someone’s voice, along with the scuffle of shoes against the floor coming closer and closer to where he and Ortho stood.

“Idia, wait up!”

Oh no. It’s you. Enter now! Enter now!

But no matter what his head told him to do, he remained rooted to his spot. He stood still despite his pounding heart, that elevator-like feeling in his stomach, and the blaring alarms in his head.

Object of affection at 5m…

Ortho was probably seeing his vitals going haywire and giving him that look again. He turned to look at his brother… only to not find him there.

Help… oh no…

2m…

“Hey,” you gasped out, catching your breath. “When I turned around, you were gone…”

Yeah, same. Just like Ortho…

No one said a word for a while. The silence was only filled by your heavy breathing as it slowly evened. Inwardly facepalming at himself, he decided to take the chance to tell you everything he should’ve said before he left.

But before he could open his mouth and apologize for leaving, (gods know he had too many things to apologize for after tonight), he was taken into a warm embrace.

OHMYGODSOHMYGODSOHMYGODSOKAYLET’SCALMDOWN

“I thought I was too late.” you mumbled into his suit.

At that moment, without anyone else around, nothing else mattered but the safety of your arms. And damn, how good it felt to be embraced. Did anyone else get these hugs from you? Idia didn’t think so. He hesitantly lifted his arms up and hugged back.

Looking up at the domed castle ceiling, he wondered what he did to deserve something this good.

It’s okay. I can have this. He allows himself to melt into your arms, head drooping down to rest against your neck.

“G-good thing you weren’t,” he finally whispered back, freezing as he heard you sob against his chest. Oh no, oh no, what do you do when your love interest is crying? Quick, quick, pull up the archive of romantic scenes from your memory.

“Hey, hey, I-I’m okay, you see?” he said, patting your back awkwardly. You let go after releasing another sob to wipe your eyes with your sleeve.

“Sorry I got your suit wet,” you said softly, turning your face away. “I’m really, really sorry about what happened there too.”

“About what?”

“The whole wedding thing...” You took a quick look at him but immediately dropped your gaze to the ground.

Idia blushed. “I-It’s okay! D-don’t worry about it… I-”

Come on, say more! Ugh… I hate myself.

You pulled at our vest and slipped something out of it—an envelope. “I… wanted to tell you everything through a letter.”

Tell me what?

“But… Eliza came and took you before I could give it to you.” You avoided his eyes as your fingers tightened around the white envelope. Idia’s breath hitched, expecting you to crumple it. But to his relief, your fingers relaxed. Then, as if it took all your courage, you handed it to him with a slightly shaky hand.

“It's old-fashioned, I know but yeah... just read it!”

In the hall’s silence, he could hear your breaths quicken once again.

“Th-That’s all I came here for. Goodbye!”

Before he knew it, you were running off. Your arm waved frantically from a distance as every step carried you farther, farther away. He lifted his arm to wave back but you never saw it. You were gone and all he had left was the letter.

His curiosity made him impatient. With fast and purposeful steps, he sprinted on the way to his room. What did he feel? Excitement? Dread? An unpleasant mix of both? His room, feeling farther than usual, was the only safe place he could experience whatever it was.

After a lot of walking and almost slipping over someone’s spilled soda (he cursed the shoes those ghosts made him wear. His very own would never fail him like that), he found himself in front of the doors, which slid open, revealing Ortho already inside.

“You left me there!” Idia huffed.

“Couples need alone time, brother,” replied his brother, innocently blinking.

“Wh-wha… we’re not a couple!”

“Hmm? I could’ve sworn the signs were all there...”

A blushing Idia threw off the silly coat those ghosts made him wear and threw it over his desk chair. He sat on the bed, fingers racing to open the envelope. Ortho watched with great interest as two sheets of paper covered in your handwriting slipped out.

Unfolding the first page, Idia took a deep breath and began reading:

Hey Player 1!

Sorry I couldn’t make it tonight last night. Maybe you can show me your new manga tomorrow? I know how excited you are about it. I’m writing this while Grim’s asleep. He’ll never let me hear the end of it otherwise.

I figured that this would be the best way to communicate my thoughts and feelings. This way, you won’t feel pressured to respond immediately. You can open and read it whenever you’re ready, in the safety of your room. I know it’s old-fashioned. But to me, a handwritten letter feels more personal—like I’m giving you a piece of myself. So here’s that piece of myself. Please, handle it with care.

Beware. I’m about to get sentimental and mushy and cheesy and everything you cringe at! I hope you read on, anyway.

First of all, I want you to know how much I admire you. Right from before we were friends, I was impressed by your intelligence and knowledge with technology. I’ve seen nothing like it back home. I always wondered why you hide yourself and those talents away. My curiosity drove me to want to get to know you. I’m glad I did.

You were closed off. To you, I was just another normie. Do you remember? Your dismissal annoyed me, so I challenged you to a 1v1 match. I thought I was good, but you crushed me. I guess that’s where it started: our friendship… and something else. Soon, I found more and more reasons to admire you. Honestly, I find more with each passing day.

I should have known, right from when songs started to make me think of you, that I was falling. I started to see you as, well, more than a friend. Your quick mind, your expressive hair, your soothing voice, your precious grin… your voice when you talk about things you love, your love of cats, and your candy, and your cold hands… Okay, I think you get the point. But if you have time, I could go on forever.

There’s something different in your eyes when you truly care. You say you’re bad at being sentimental and feel-y, but that’s okay! We express love differently. I see your love pour out in the way you perfect every detail on Ortho’s modifications, anyway. I’m sure he knows how much you love him.

I want you to know how special you are to me. You’re so amazing, Idia. I wish you knew that. I want you to know that.

I know it’s hopeless. You’re the young master to a noble house. I’m just… me. A homeless, magicless foreigner with nothing to my name. Nothing to offer but my feelings (and my superb gaming skills of course). I’m not asking nor expecting to be your special someone. But hey, I can be a top-tier teammate. A worthwhile BG opponent. A movie buddy. And most importantly—a friend.

Our time together has always been a highlight of my difficult stay in NRC. The times we hung out in your room were my refuge from the outside world’s demands. Somewhere I was untouchable and safe from harm. Safe from demeaning remarks. Even if you never get back to this letter and decide you never want to see me again, I will always treasure the matches we played, the movies we watched, the candy we shared, and the memes we laughed over.

That’s all of it, really. Please don’t sleep too late. Watch your sugar intake. Listen to Ortho. Take care of yourself.

Oh, and enjoy your new manga.

Your best raid teammate,

Player 2

Wide amber yellow eyes glistened as they repeatedly flitted over the words. A shaky thumb caressed the smudged ink from where a fallen teardrop marked the paper. Burning different shades at once, fire-hair slowly released itself from the tie it was forced into. Now free, it swathed Idia’s back in warmth like it should.

“Th-This can’t be real!” he sputters as he waved your letter around like he was fanning a bonfire. In a way, he was.

However, Idia knew his hair wasn’t the only thing that kept him warm. He stared at the letter and it stared back. But no matter how many times he blinked, the words remained the same. You felt the same.

“What have I done to unlock this route?” Idia clutched the letter to his chest, but noticed he was wrinkling it. “Nooo!” He quickly smoothed it over again.

“They… they like-like me!” Saying it out loud made it more real. It was a fact! It was true all this time! Thinking of everything you did tonight: rescuing him like a true hero, running after him because you couldn’t keep your feelings secret for much longer… he couldn’t stop himself from swooning.

“Like-like… did you mean love?”

“L-love?” Idia exclaimed. He suddenly felt dizzy, so he fell back onto his bed and talked to the ceiling. “It’s too early for that word!”

But he knew the effect which that word had on him didn’t go unnoticed by Ortho. Well, at least he knew now that Idia wasn’t suffering from an illness. Can love be considered an illness? Idia recalls a documentary that said it was. Back then, he ate that up. Love made people do crazy things, after all.

But ‘illness’ wasn’t an apt word to describe this dizzying happiness surging through him, was it? It was way too wonderful for a word like that.

“I’m so glad the Prefect finally confessed!” Ortho bounced happily, reflecting his brother’s joy. “I knew they would do it soon!”

Mouth hanging open, Idia looked at his brother. “Wait… you knew?”

“I’ve known for a while,” Ortho giggled. “Vitals can’t keep secrets!”

***

Contrary to plan, Idia didn’t touch his video games, nor gorge on candy, nor cry himself to sleep. Instead, he replayed the night’s events in his head over and over like a song he couldn’t get enough of. It had been two hours and thirty-five minutes since he read your letter. Two hours and thirty-five minutes since his world was turned upside down. In his reflection on the dark screen of his off tablet, he almost looked different. He saw someone who was admired. Wanted. Loved.

Was that what you saw whenever you looked at him?

Ortho told him what the next move was: asking you out. He was scared. You might have changed his view of himself a bit, but that didn’t mean he was suddenly ready to go the distance and conquer the world, or whatever those overenthusiastic extroverts say. The night was still too much, and maybe he still needed those three weeks of being a complete hermit.

Okay. Maybe with your help, I'll get there little by little.

Perhaps you could watch a movie in his room... Would you be okay with that? You always hung out with him in there. But what if you wanted to do something outside? Eh, maybe it all didn’t matter, as long as you were together.

When he put on his headphones, he knew which song to choose right away. There was one forgotten song in his music library that he couldn’t bring himself to delete. A love song. It wasn’t a bad one, because Idia would never keep a bad song in his music library. It’s just that the lyrics were too happy—its singer so blissfully in love that it amplified the loneliness that had always been there.

Now playing: “Immortal Flowers” — SERPINA

This time, it’ll be different. Tonight, he puts it on repeat. He listens to it with a head for once clear of uncertainties. Instead, he thinks of fluffy otome scenarios.

That date idea would have to wait. For now, he’ll imagine and dream of you, with your warm smile and open arms—skin basking in the glow of blue fire light.

THE END.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

There you have it! Thank you for reading. I had fun writing this 4-part series. Would love to hear some feedback!

Btw, the title of the song Idia listens to at the end comes from “Conversations with Persephone” by Nikita Gill. “What Hades gave me was a crown made for the immortal flowers in my bones.”

#twst x reader #idia x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fic #my work

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ashestospace-fics · 4 years

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Greedy for you

Characters: Mammon x MaleReader

Warning: E/NSFW

Minors dni or I'll personally call your parents

Tags: TopReader,praising kink, Mammon being a little bratty, dry humping, demonic female and Male genetelia description and penetration

It was frustrating, Mammon felt like he was going to combust at any moment as he watched you with cross arms and a pout. It's been like this for almost a whole week, the rest of his brothers have been sweeping you away and taking you away from him. He couldn't spend five minutes without someone interrupted and he felt like throwing a fit, he wanted your attention! He wanted you to cuddle him and pay attention to only him. After all, he's your first pact, your first man, he clearly more important and comes first than the rest. So why are you spending more time with Levi than him right now?!

He just happens to be looking for you, not finding you in your room already this late at night. He was in the search until he heard your voice downstairs in one of the living rooms. He peeks slowly, spotting you with the 3rd brother setting the t.v, both of you talking about one of Levi's many animes as he let you do the fixing. Head duck down behind the t.v as you turn it on. Mammon almost wanted to pull you down the legs and drag you out when you lifted your shirt to whip the sweat out of your face, causing both demons to blush slightly at the sudden expose skin. What was enough to tic the Greedy demon off was that you wink back at Levi when you notice him blushing. Now he just HAD to intervene.

"OI! human! Get up!" He exclaims as he darted over to you. Grabbing you by the arm and pulling you up to the ground.

"Wow, okay, what is it now Mammon?" You blurt out seeing his frustrated expression.

He slams the door behind you, letting go of your wrist to flop down on your bed as he stretches his whole body over. A huff leaving him as he threw his arms around like a fish out of water frustrated as he felt your eyes on you.

"Hey wait a minute! He's helping me out here for game night" Levi exclaim backed.

"don't care, later Nerd" Mammon practically dragged you out the living room by the shirt. You could only mouth a 'Sorry I'll see you later' to Levi as you got dragged away. The whole way back to your room Mammon refuse to respond to you. Mumbling to himself who knows what, that just kept you, even more, confused at his sudden behavior.

"well are you gonna keep gawking like a fish or you gonna tell me what's up?" You casually responded as you made your way over to him. He stops thrashing around as he looked up at you with a frown.

"It's late and I need ya" he blurts out tugging your arm.

".....you haven't been spending time with me..." He mumbled out, his eyebrow twitch as he sat up pointing at you. "So I demand you to watch a movie with me! Right now on your shitty laptop", you blink a few times as you stare at him, a small sigh leaving your lips as you made your way into the bed as you drag your laptop out of your nightstand. You knew you weren't paying much attention to him this week, so it didn't surprise you he was throwing a fit.

"Alright, alright, no need to be acting like a brat. You should have just told me how you were feeling sooner" you replied, opening the laptop as you sat behind your pile of pillows. He just pouted at you, his cheeks turning light red once you patted your lap. Mammon didn't think twice as he crawls over to you, making a home between your thighs as he brought your blankets up to cover both of you.

A satisfied smile dance on his lips as he snuggled closer to your chest. One of your legs moving over his as you wrap your arms around his waist as you lean back. Soon enough whatever bickering remark he had to try arguing with you faded away at your warmth. A deep sigh left him as he presses his ear against your chest as his eyes focus on the movie. This is just what he wanted, you all of himself wrap around your arms secure and safe. None of his brothers around, no silly business, just the sound of your heart and breathing and the occasional laughter from your deep voice from a funny scene on screen. It was just perfect, that is until his other sense became hyper-aware of other things.

Sure it's been simply a week since you two hang out properly, but it's been way longer since you two slept together. Mammon really couldn't help feeling needy at the sudden thought of you pinning him down, stuffing him full. He could feel his cheeks heat up as he shifted on his spot. Bitting down his lip as he tried taking his attention back to the screen. The feeling of your crotch right against his ass now a bit more noticeable than when you two started the movie.

But hell how could he? Every gentle caress of his side from your large fingers, a simple innocent touch was stirring him up so easily. Mammon couldn't help it, he couldn't help moving his hips up and down so slowly against you. His hand holding into your thigh as he could feel your length against the fabric of your sweat pants. The idea of getting caught now and question only started to fueled in his arousal and threw away any little care he had from just spending quiet time with you. Now his head was aiming for something much more, greedy little devil wanted something much more now.

Your own eyes had already left the screen as soon as Mammon started shifted on top of you. The slow grind of his ass against you now having your complete attention as you pretended not to notice yet. Your free hand reaching over to munch away on some candy you had in a bowl. The other hand that was on his side trail under his shirt and hold into his waist. A shaky breath passes Mammon's lips as he grinded back harder against your half-hardened cock. The low chuckle that left your throat made him look up with flush cheeks. You pop another piece of candy into your lips.

"greedy little boy are you? You want me so bad for yourself today huh?" You laugh even more as he turns around to smack your chest. Embarrassment running all over his face as he straddles your hips as he pouted at you.

"Don't blame me! You have been spending time with those losers instead of me!" He protested. You only smile innocently at his pout as both your hands hold onto his waist.

"I'm sorry, but you know I try my best right? After all, I'm the one cleaning after you dorks" he huff as he rested his forehead against yours. His cheeks getting darker as his eyes looked down.

"I know..., But come on, I'm your man! I want more time with you" you place a hand on his cheek, making him look back up at you with a more flustered expression at your tendered one.

"I know I know, so greedy for me, I promise I'll make more time for you" you mumble out between kissing his heated cheeks.

"Why don't I make it up to you? Hm? Give my needy boy a little reward and a treat?" You added as he trail kisses his neck. A whine leaving Mammon as you grinded up against him. He eagerly grinded back as he holds on to your shoulders.

"T-that doesn't s-sound..so bad-oh!" He jolted at the feeling of your tight dig down into his skin, making him release a sweet whimper as you licked the spot you bite down on. Lips sucking on the tender flesh and letting it go with a pop.

"yeah? You think you can hump against me and cum just by that?" You asked as you pulled away. A smirk danced on your face as he grinded more desperately at your suggestion.

"w-wha-no! P-please, don't tease me like that, I want you to touch me" he protested, making sure to grind hard down against your erection. Feeling the wet spot already forming on his crotch as he panted heavily. The friction was already too good for the greedy demon, letting his own body take control even if he wanted to go further. His eyes flutter close as your hands rip him of his jacket and shirt, a shaky breath leaving Mammon as your thumb rub circles in his perk nipples before trailing down.

"look at that, all wet and messy already? Such a needy boy Mammon" you chuckled at the whine he let escape. His hips jerked up as the rough pad of your finger rubbed against the slit of cunt.

" M-Mmh shut u-up, I can-cant help it" he whine loudly when you push him to lay on his back. Eyes almost glossy as he lifted his hips for you. Ripping him from his pants easily, his erection stood tall along with the whole damp that trail up to the tip of his cock and down to his silky cunt that was still cover by his boxers. Mammon couldn't help but to look away bashfully, a part of him always embarrass with the hungry expression you always gave him, but also with how vulnerable and small you always made him feel in these moments.

"p-please...please MC..." He begged quietly, hissing as your hand trail up to pump his length. You trail down to kiss his cheek softly before nipping at the heated skin.

"really? Cause you don't seem that far from cumming with how hard you're humping my cock"

"Okay, okay Baby, be good for me now and I'll give you everything you want.." you chuckled again. Your eyes locking with Mammon as you strip from your clothes, the sigh sending another wave of heat to Mammon's core as his dick twitch at the sight. Once pull your sweat pants down and expose your cock it was enough for him to let out a whimper at the sight. It was so hard and twitching that he could feel the heat radiating from beneath you, causing his hips to grind up into nothing.

"shh, shh I know baby boy" you cooed as you rip him from his boxers. Now it was your turn to feel light-headed at the sight. Even after so many times you always felt taken back at the big difference in demon anatomy, or in this case genitalia. It wasn't that big or too thick but the shape sure was interesting, small curving bumps like a horn. The color bright yellow and the tip almost turning white. While the slit around it was dripping into a darker shade of yellow mustard as his cunt clench around nothing, a too-familiar little bundle of nerves on top that also begged for your attention.

It took almost all of you to rip your eyes away as Mammon started squirming under your gaze. He was getting uncomfortably wetter by your harsh gaze. It was all too tempting for you to just dive down and take him in your mouth but knowing how needy he was now it was no time for teasing or foreplay. Your hands gently rubbed his knees and thighs as you align yourself against his entrance. Rubbing yourself against his folds earning the sweetest moan of your name as he hooked his legs around your waist.

Pushing yourself in slowly had both of you groaning loudly at the wonderful stretch, Mammon could feel each pulsating vein of your cock dragging against his spongy walls as he bottoms you out completely. Both of you panting heavily against each other before you lean down to capture his lips into a gentle kiss. Mammon's hands making their way around your neck as you sucked on his lips and letting them go with a pop. Slowly trying to calm down his breathing as you let him get comfortable. You brought your hips back before thrusting back in hard. Making the demon harsh his back as he let out a scream of pleasure, your hips grinding against him as you felt your eyes almost rolled back with how hard he was clenching down on you.

"m-me too baby, touch yourself no-now before I cum into your little cunt" you pulled back any self of control to not come at the dumb fucked look he had in his face as his hand shakily reach down to pump his length desperately. Mouth agape and drool passing his lips as he watches where both your bodies are connected. It was he needed to finally jump over the edge and cum all over his stomach and chest as you kept jackhammering into him. One of your hands reaching under his knee to hold it up as you gave one last thrust and painted his walls white. The demon let out a dragged-out whine as his body twitches at the feeling of being filled up. His body finally giving out and falling limp as he panted for air. You follow along and panted heavily, pulling out of him slowly to look at the mess you both did of your poor Bed.

"s-so close, right there! O-oh fuck I'm so close-" Mammon's eyes crossed as his head fell back.

You let out a low groan at the pulsating feeling of his walls trying desperately to hold you in place as his voice started to become horse with how much he was screaming now. Hitting the bundle of nerves inside of him that has his toes curling.

"hmm, good boy" you breathe out patting his twitching thighs as your other hand rubbed the tears that form in his eyes.

"h-hm fuck, such a good boy taking my cock so well" you growled out, starting a heavy pace. Both your hands resting beside his head as you let your weight fall into him with each hard thrust. It didn't take long before Mammon was moaning his head off as you turn his brain into goo. Each drag of his walls against your cock sending sweet shocking electricity all over his body. Chanting your name almost like a prayer as he holds on to you for dear life. His cunt milking you off every time you pulled back to slam into him, your sheets already soaked with how much he was leaking.

You ran a hand across your sweaty forehead as you threw the blankets to the side as you stood up and grab a few water bottles. Opening it up for Mammon to take. Brushing off the sweaty hair of his face as he sighs at the gentle touch.

"does my greedy demon want to take a shower with me?" You gently asked as he drank down the whole bottle in one go. A small smile on his face as he looked up at you.

"you know the answer to that"

#obey me x male reader #Obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me smut #obey me x mc #mammon swd #mammon x male reader #mammon x reader #swd mammon #obey me mammon #obey me hc #obey me

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anxious2dsimp · 4 years

Text

General Dating Headcanons | Sero, Todoroki & Bakugou

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

Pairings: Sero x Reader, Todoroki x Reader, Bakugou x Reader

Reader: Gender Neutral!

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: Cursing bc Bakugou 🙄 (as if I wasn’t the one who picked him lmao)

Request: :))) hellooooo :D hmmmm may i get general dating headcanons for sero, todoroki, and [insert your favorite character]? 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 @smexy-goose

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

Hi again!! Omg yes, I’ll gladly write some hcs for the best bois! I had a hard time picking a fave, but since I have written for Kami and Kiri in the last request I decided to go with blasty boy❤️ (Also, I’m trying a new way to post requests, I hope it works!)

Sero Hanta

I feel like Sero is genuinely so fun to date, just like he said in that one dorm episode, he’s always the wild card.

He’s a goofball, so he adores making you laugh and smile as much as he can. I love him omg😭

Will definitely take advantage of his height (he’s among the taller ones in the class) and give you surprise hugs from behind and rest his head on yours.

He’ll also use his quirk on you for everything from pranks to just randomly pulling you to him to give you a quick peck or a hug :’)

He’s pretty standard with PDA, so he won’t go around making out with you in public but he will do little gestures like those <3

In private I feel like he’s definitely cuddly, he’s just so happy to be with you!

He loves having you over at his room to just chill or be in each other’s presence, even if you’re doing stuff individually.

Speaking of, the bakusquad definitely complains about you having privilege in using the hammock in Hanta’s room.

Denki will whine like; “why does y/n always get to use the hammock? You said it was out of bounds!”

“That’s on pretty privilege, sorry! And you’re just jealous you don’t have a cool s/o like mine,” Sero will say and poke his tongue out from the hammock where you’re swinging togehter :’)

I’m warning you now, if you had a healthy sleep schedule before going out with him, you can kiss it goodbye.

Sero will absolutely be up till like 3 am sending you memes and tiktoks that remind him of you.

And with him blowing up your phone you’ll most likely end up talking into ungodly hours of the night, the *sleep deprivation* only causing funnier conversations.

Those will end up becoming inside jokes that he’ll bring up to make you laugh while the rest of the class is like ???

That also results in some weird ass nicknames sorry not sorry

So he’ll sometimes call you regular stuff like babe and other times... he’ll call you things like “Bert” (FOR NO REASON??) or “Candied Blood Pumping Organ” instead of sweetheart lmao

Overall you two are just THE chaotic couple (and if you’re not generally that way he will bring out that side of you)

Pranking your classmates? Pranking each other? Random ass adventures? Trying weird food together? Dancing in the kitchen at midnight while sharing late night snacks? By going out with him you said yes to all of the above.

From sneaking out of the dorms for late night food runs to occasionally skipping class to go to the arcade or the beach, you usually can’t go a week without doing something fun togehter.

This one time you two were out with the Bakusquad and y’all stopped by a supermarket to get food.

So you had to ask Bakugou to buy you something bc you and Sero had to stay outside and just hand him the money.

He was like “tf?? why? Just buy your shit yourselves!” You had to explain you two were banned from the store because Hanta had accidentally crashed a cart he was driving you around in into a display of cereal boxes.

Ah yes, good times.

Todoroki Shoto

I feel like he’ll definitely need a small push when it comes to relationships bc of his past, but once you’re with him he’ll care deeply about you and will try to make you as happy as you make him :’)

I’m begging you, please give this boy some luv and affection!! For the most part you’d probably initiate PDA because he’s too nervous to do it himself

At the beginning he wouldn’t even be comfy cuddling, solely because he’d be afraid of hurting you somehow :(

But once you’ve reassured him he complies, and from then on out you just have to open your arms and he’ll instantly know it’s *cuddle time*

It’a one of his favorite pastimes bc he just feels so safe and loved <3 he also just loves the feeling of you playing with his hair

Luckily you get to do it year round since you cuddle his hot side in the winter and cold side during the summer

I feel like he’s secretly insecure, so the fact that you trust him and love him for who he is makes him feel like he could melt <3

Because of that you’re the only one he truly opens up to and shows his real feelings to, not to mention the only one who can touch his scar

And though he isn’t great with words, one look at him during one of these personal moments when its just you two, and you can just see it in his eyes.

Especially if you kiss his scar, his eyes might even get teary this sweet boy I 😭

That’s also probably why he shares his precious cold soba with you

Since you’ve been together, Shoto has just been so much happier, so his siblings and mother LOVE you.

They’re constantly inviting you over for dinner when Endevour is working (bc he’s a huge buzzkill to say the least), and his mom adores when you come with Shoto to visit her :)

Todoroki really enjoys seeing you get along with the people he cares the most about...

BUT what he hates is THE EMBARRASING STORIES HIS FAMILY TELLS YOU OMG (you live for them, but I wouldn’t tell him that if I were you)

“Fuyumi remember when Shoto-” “Natsuo, no💙“ your bf will say as he unconsciously squeezes your hand, both of the siblings laughing at Shoto’s glare.

You had to hold in your laughter so hard omg

Though he isn’t that talkative, you guys definitely have that kind of relationship where you two could be silent and still feel completely comfortable (oh I’m so jealous of that but nvm)

He’s definitely observant, so expect the most considerate gifts and the most assertive observations, he’ll always know what you need.

The type of observant that gives you a water bottle before you even notice you’re thristy during training, or switches sides while walking so you loop your arm with his on his warm side when you’re cold.

Also the type to gift you that one thing you really wanted but mentioned once like months ago along with your favorite snacks/drink (you best believe he has them all memorized bc he’s just that attentive)

Over all, just a really soothing relationship were you can be comfortable with each other and feel at home when you’re together.

Bakugou Katsuki

Ok so, I feel like you’d be a competitive couple, turning anything into a competition in an endearingly annoying way.

You’re definitely the type of couple to go to laser tag, an escape room, an arcade, etc, as dates >:) but the competitions don’t end there:

Who can plan the best date? Who can make the other blush first? Who can get the other the better gift? Who’s the better kisser? Who gets the higher score in class? Or wins at sparring?

Especially when it comes to productive stuff like training or academics, although he won’t admit it, he’s just pushing you to be your best because he knows how amazing you are :’)

All the bakusquad knows about your shenanigans and at this point they’ve learnt to stay out of it & go get the Advil just in case bless their souls lmao

I’m sorry but he definitely calls you nicknames that purposely piss you off (with no ill intentions ofc), like “gremlin”, “dumbass” or “booger”

I suggest you also call him stuff like that back, like “angry pom” or “blasty” to get on his nerves >:)

You guys also definitely friendly bicker all the time, knowing that you take it lightly (though strangers won’t, resulting in some hilariously awkward situations)

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” he’ll say rolling his eyes as he messes up your hair.

Just watch his smirk dissapears when you reply, “no, u❤️″ It gets on his nerves, I just know it.

So he’ll chase you around as you call each other random stuff. While the other people at the convenience store are just like 👁👄👁

He never means it tho, keep in mind if you’re dating the self proclaimed future no. 1 hero he thinks highly of you :)

So he’d definitely be protective while simultaneously showing you off <3

Will always greet you with a kiss and keep his hand on your back or waist so ppl know you’re with him

RIP anyone who tries to hurt or flirt with you, I say try bc Bakugou will be exploding them even before they get the chance😅

Denki’s definitely almost gotten his brows blown off his face bc of that lol

Speaking of, the bakusquad still can’t get over the fact that THE lord explosion murder has a soft spot for you,

You mean you take care of his injuries, scold him when he burns himself out, touch his hair, and hug him when his moody... and you DON’T get cussed out and blown up? Shooketh

However they don’t see what happens behind closed doors, & how you’ve helped him with all the trauma he has experienced

You’re the only one who he is vulnerable with, you’ve seen him cry and he tells you about his nightmares and fears

You do the same with him, and you promise each other to get through anything together, which you’ve done so far :’)

Bc of that his parents love you, and his mom’s always going on about how she’s so glad you “stand” his son😂

Why can’t he be real ughhh

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hypmic-writings · 3 years

Note

Hi! I hope ur doing well. I randomly got this from showering lol. Saburo's weeb girlfriend dragging him to her house to watch anime ty! May it not be headcanons? (Ahdgdhj I forgot what they're called)

━━ ∘◦ ☆ ◦∘ ━━

Pairing: Saburo Yamada x reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 819

A/N: This one was adorable, I feel like Saburo with a weeb s/o would be such a good match haha he needs someone that's a little more creative and exciteable! Hope you enjoy~

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

“Come on, slow poke, we’re gonna be late!” you exclaimed, practically dragging Saburo down the street by the hand. Your boyfriend gave a groan but continued to lazily walk with you, ambivalent to your enthusiasm.

“What is there to be late for? You already own all of the box sets of the anime right?” he said, sulking as the two of you walked towards your house.

You and Saburo had been dating for a while now, and it had become routine for the two of you to go to each other’s houses after school. Most of the time you went to the Yamada household and ended up studying or doing homework together, but lately you had been itching to watch the newest season of an anime you loved.

Although Saburo wasn’t all that interested in anime, he knew that you were obsessed with all of your favorite shows. While school was important to him, he wanted to partake in some of your interests as well, so he decided to watch the anime together with you to see what it was all about.

Surprisingly, he liked it more than he thought he would. Not that he had to tell you that.

“What? Saburo, no! You love the anime, you’ve watched the entire first season!” you cried out, fiddling with your key and motioning for Saburo to follow you into the living room.

“Only because you forced me to…” Saburo mumbled under his breath, lying to himself as you called out to your family.

“I’m home! Saburo and I are going to my room to watch anime!” you shouted, making Saburo wince at the loud noise. Your father waved at you from the kitchen, telling you to make sure to leave the door open, but you simply shouted back assurances as you grabbed ahold of Saburo’s hand and pulled him into your room.

“Shouldn’t we get snacks?” Saburo asked, dropping his backpack down and sitting on the floor, using your bed as a headrest.

“Don’t worry, I have some stashed away from last time,” you chuckled, wiggling your eyebrows as you pulled open one of the drawers on your dresser and grabbed bags of candy and chips, throwing them across the room at Saburo. He dodged them all, making you laugh as you rolled over your bed to fall down beside him.

“Maybe we should try eating something healthy one day,” Saburo sarcastically said as you ripped open the bag of chips.

“So you don’t want any?” you asked, holding out the chips to him while you fumbled for the remote.

“Well, I didn’t say that…” Saburo said, sheepishly as he grabbed a few chips, almost delicately. You smiled at him as you turned on the TV and almost instantly the show began to play exactly where you had left off.

“Thanks for watching with me,” you cooed, leaning against Saburo’s arm and grinning widely up at him. You could see the faint dust of pink on his cheeks, but he huffed as he focused back on the anime and shrugged his shoulders.

“It’s fine…not like I had anything else to do…”

* * *

Despite Saburo’s words, it was only a few episodes later that the two of you were heavily invested in the plot line. You had dug out some of your plush toys from the anime and the two of you were now seated closer to the television, intensely watching as you clutched your respective plush characters.

“Do you think they’re going to die?” you whispered to Saburo, curiosity lacing your words. Saburo tutted his tongue and hushed you softly.

“No way, the knight is way too powerful to die. Plus, now he has his two best friends with him so he’s definitely going to make some big speech and get a power up that’ll let him beat the bad guy at some point,” Saburo explained, barely sparing you a glance as he nibbled on a piece of candy.

You couldn’t help but draw your eyes to your boyfriend and hold back a smile as you looked at how intensely focused he was. For as much as he whined, he was quite invested in the plot now and you knew that you two could easily finish the anime today if you wanted to.

“I thought you said you didn’t like anime,” you teased, poking Saburo’s cheek. He waved you away and glared at you for a moment before sighing.

“Both of my brothers watch anime all the time, so I know a lot about it, okay?” he stated. You waited for him to continue, but when he didn’t, you prompted him.

“And…?” you said, nudging his arm with an evil smile. Saburo groaned and rolled his eyes before hiding his head between his knees.

“And…I really like this show…” he muttered, making you gasp.

“I knew it! I knew you were interested in this one!”

“Hey! S-Shut up!”

#hypmic #hypnosis mic #hypnosis microphone #saburo #saburo yamada #saburo x reader #saburo yamada x reader #imagines #scenarios #hypmic imagines #hypmic scenarios #hypnosis mic imagines #hypnosis mic scenarios #hypnosis microphone scenarios #hypnosis microphone imagines

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redrisingsun · 3 years

Text

Swedish Holidays for all your Young Royals needs

Due to popular demand (by like five people) here’s a brief description of all the major Swedish holidays and how they’re celebrated because I can’t stand here and pretend as if we really celebrate Christmas the 25th. We have more holidays, I've only written about the ones we celebrate in my family. I come from a working class family and live in Southern Sweden, however I do have family in Stockholm. I'm not religious in any way and as far as I know, most families don't celebrate these holidays because they're religious, but because it's tradition.

yall better appreciate this, it took me literal hours

January

1: Dubbed as one of the collective pizza days in my household. It's the day after New Year, and most people either order in or eat leftovers.

Week 2 or 3: Most people return to their jobs, schools and other daily activities.

February/March

Fettisdagen ("Fat Tuesday"): celebrated 47 days before Easter. The actual date varies, all from early February to early March. It's an old Christian tradition where you'd eat fatty foods before the "before Easter"-fast and is supposedly a thing in other Christian countries as well. These days, most people celebrate by eating semlor with their family, and most don't fast before Easter.

The semla is a sweet bun with whipped cream and almond paste.

Våffeldagen (Waffle Day, 25th of March): I think this day stems from a Christian tradition, but these days the day is mostly to get together with family and eat waffles.

April

Påsk (Easter): Again, the date varies, but Easter is usually in April. Easter stems from Christianity and is celebrated to remember Jesus' death and resurrection. Easter spans over a week, but I personally only celebrate one of those days.

Påskafton (direct translation: Easter Eve, English translation: Holy Saturday) is the Saturday of the Easter week. In my family, the children get to look for Easter eggs (often filled with candy).

Some children also dress up as Påskkärringar (Easter crones) and I think this tradition has to do with the Witch Trials in Sweden, but I'm not sure. Chances are you won't need to know anything about this for your Young Royal fics, because mostly girls dress up.

Sometimes, we decorate eggs.

Later, we sit down to eat together and spend time with our families. Common things to eat for Easter is potatoes, eggs, herring and meatballs.

Valborgsmässoafton (Walpurgis Night, 30th): We burn a big bonfire in the evening to celebrate that spring is here. I live in a fairly small town, so mostly everyone gathers at one spot and burns the fire together. When the bonfire is burned, most people go home and that's it. It's also seen as a reason to have a party (mostly for teenagers and young adults, I think) and get drunk as fuck.

May/June

Sveriges Nationaldagen (Sweden's National Day, 6th of June): Most people are home from school and work. We hoist the Swedish flag. Idk. However, the Royal Family celebrates by getting dressed up in Swedish costumes. This year, the King held a speech and the family went to Skansen (which is an amusement park/zoo. You can read more about it here). There's music and the military does their weird little thing. You can watch the National Day Celebration on Skansen from 2014 here.

Midsommarafton (Midsummer): date varies, but is celebrated a Friday in late June. I'm sure there's a Christian explanation for this one, but I don't personally know it.

Midsommar (midsummer) means middle of the summer.

Again, this is a day to eat and spend time with your family (or drink, depending on who you are). We eat pretty much the same things for Midsummer as we do for Easter.

For Midsummer we also dance around a Midsommarstång (direct translation: Midsummer Pole, English translation: Maypole) and make flower crowns.

How Midsummer is celebrated depends a lot on your age (most teenagers and young adults again see this as a reason to party), where you're from and a million other things.

My personal favorite Midsummer tradition is probably more common in the country than in the city, for example. You're supposed to pick seven different flowers without saying a word. Then, you sleep with the flowers under your pillow. Supposedly, you'll dream of your future husband (or wife! But I think it's more common that women and girls do this). This tradition also varies. Some people say you need nine flowers and some people say you have to climb over fencing for it to count.

Some teenagers or young adults spend time with their friends to party, instead!

You can watch part of a Midsummer celebration at Skansen here.

The Royal Family usually celebrate Midsummer privately, but I think there's usually new pictures of the entire family around this time.

Day after Midsummer: Collective Pizza Day 2. Everyone either eats takeout or leftovers because no one can be bothered to make anything and like half of the population has the worst hangover they've had since New Year.

Summer Holiday Note: most people in Sweden have four weeks of paid leave each summer.

July/August

Kräftpremiär (Crayfish party) - date varies, normally early August. Basically people get together to eat crayfish and drink. You can usually get paper plates and plastic cups and whatever with ugly crayfish motives (which is fun), but I've never done this.

October

Halloween (30th): Halloween is nowhere near as big in Sweden as it is in the States. We just buy some lösgodis ("loose candy", where you can throw whatever kind of candy you want in a bag. See pictures). Trick or treat is so unusual in the town I grew up I've only ever had one kid ask for candy and when I celebrated Halloween with my grandparents (in a city not far from Stockholm), it was the same. I usually buy some candy and watch a horror movie, but that's about it.

However, Halloween is (again) a reason for teenagers and young adults to drink and party.

November

Alla Helgons Dag (All Saints' Day): Date varies, usually early November. It's a day to remember the dead and we usually light a candle at the grave yard.

December

Första Advent (First Advent): Date varies. Sunday four weeks from Christmas Eve. We mostly just light a candle, honestly. Then, each Sunday for the next four weeks, we light a candle. Here's actually the Crown Princess wishing Happy First Advent with her family! Unfortunately without English subtitles, but here's the translation: "Today is the First Advent. Advent means arrival and hope, something that feels extra important this year. (her husband lights the candle) We want to wish everyone a happy first advent!"

Andra Advent (Second Advent): date varies. We light the second candle.

Tredje Advent (Third Advent): date varies. We light the third candle.

Fjärde Advent (Fourth Advent): date varies. We light the fourth candle. In my family we usually decorate the tree this Sunday.

Julafton (Christmas Eve): Celebrated the 24th. YES, THE 24TH. Christmas Eve obviously varies from family to family, but there's a few things most people have in common. Usually, we get one gift in our sock (which hangs on our bedroom doors in my home, because we don't have a mantle) when we wake up. As kids me and my brother almost always got a movie or something to keep us busy until it was time to leave for our grandparents house.

For lunch we eat the Christmas dinner. It's the same damned food as our other holidays. Herring, meatballs, potatoes, sausages etc, but now, we also have julskinka (Christmas ham). Some people eat ham even for Easter, but we only really eat it for Christmas in my family. Obviously the food varies a little from season to season, but as a picky eater I always just eat potatoes, meatballs and ham.

At 3, Kalle Anka (Donald Duck) is on. Yeah, we watch the same damned stuff every year. It's tradition, alright? Anyway, Donald Duck lasts for an hour or so, and first you get to see Santa work in his workshop, then Disney characters wish you a Merry Christmas with scenes from their movies (original, I know). There's Lady and the Tramp, Donald Duck (obviously) and a million other things. Then there's also one or two trailers for movies Disney will release the coming year. I really couldn't be bothered to find everything on YouTube for you to watch, sorry!

After Donald Duck, we open the Christmas gifts in my family. Normally we just rip out gifts open lmao.

After opening the gifts, we usually eat a second time. This time it's time for porridge. Tomtegröt (Santa porridge) is sweet and often served with cinnamon. Usually, everyone is so stuffed at this point that you only eat because you "have" to eat porridge for Christmas (again, at least in my family).

The last thing we do in my family, is to get a puzzle out. My grandpa almost always gets a new puzzle for Christmas, so we'll put that on the dining table and work on it together until it's getting too late for us to stay.

The Royal Family usually release new pictures of the family for Christmas and wish everyone a Merry Christmas.

Day after Christmas: Not a collective pizza day! There's usually too much Christmas food left to be able to order pizza. Usually, we have Christmas food to eat for four-ish days after Christmas, and by then you're getting really tired of it.

Sometimes we watch something on television, but for the most part we just sit around and spend time together. I think the Crown Princess read something from the Bible this year? I'm not actually sure if the Royal Family go to the Christmas Service, but I don't think so.

Nyårsafton (New Year's Eve): last day of the year. We shoot fireworks, eat food and dessert and spend time with family. This day we normally eat something "fancy" or something you we don't usually eat.

At twelve, we go out to light some fireworks (or just watch fireworks). When that dies down, it's time for the cheese platter. My dad wants it, no one else ever eats from it, we still do it every single year because "it's not New Year's without it". When we've had the cheese platter, everyone go to sleep and that's that.

People obviously celebrate this differently, as well. It's not uncommon to go see your friends or have guests over, and some people party rather than have fancy dinner with their parents. I personally prefer spending time with my parents, because that's what New Year's is for me.

Some people give resolutions, but I think it's more common in the States.

Christmas Holiday Note: It's common for people to not work between Christmas and New Year's Eve where I'm from.

Some things you might want to know about the Swedish Royal Family and Sweden overall:

The Royal Family in Young Royals is not the real Royal Family (obviously).

The Royal Family usually spends time on Öland during the summers.

Chances are Wilhelm and his family live at Drottningholm Slott (Drottningholm Palace) and not Stockholm Slott (Stockholm Palace). Drottningholm is used as a home for the current King and Queen and is located west of Stockholm. However, the scenes where Wilhelm is home is shot at a palace called Stora Sundby Slott. I doubt Wilhelm and his family would live here if they were the actual Royal Family since it's used as a place for people to gather when they want to hunt for sport. However, if they truly live at Stora Sundby, it takes almost two hours to drive from Stockholm to the castle.

Bjärstad is AT LEAST two hours away from Stockholm.

Bjärstad to Stora Sundby Castle takes approximately an hour and a half by car, and between nine and twelve hours by bus. Which means these two boys can't just take a twenty minute bus to see each other.

Bjärstad to Drottningholm takes a little over two hours by car and four-ish hours by bus.

Bjärstad to Stockholm Slott takes over two hours by car and three and a half hours by bus.

Hillerska is shot at Kaggeholms Slott (Kaggeholm Palace), and is a hotel.

The age of consent in Sweden is 15, HOWEVER it's illegal to have sex with someone four or more years younger than you if you're not both over the age of 18. Let me illustrate: -Person A is 15 and Person B is 15. It's legal because both are 15. -Person A is 15 and Person B is 20. It's illegal, because there's a five year old gap between them. -Person A is 15 and Person B is 18. It's legal (but probably frowned upon), because they're both 15 or older and there's not a four year gap between them. -Person A is 18 and Person B is 30. It's legal, because both are 18 or older. Idk if this makes sense or if this is what it looks like anymore, but this is what it was like when I still went to school. Obviously people aren't going to run around and call you names if you happen to date someone four years younger than you (I know a girl who met a guy when she was 14 and he was over 20), but please, be mindful of this. Our age of consent doesn't give you a right to be weird and nasty to teenagers (yes, I'm talking about Edvin).

Also, the Royal Family have their own website, which you can find here. As far as I can see, there's more information on the Swedish page, but there's plenty translated to English. You can also read of the Swedish Royal Family and its history on the palaces's website, here.

All pictures have been taken straight from Google. I haven't used any sources, because this is shit I do every single year with my family. Feel free to correct me or add things you do, but keep it respectful, please!

Friendly reminder that I've simplified some parts of this to make sense, specifically the dates of the Advent celebrations.

If there's anything you don't understand or want more information on, you're welcome to contact me! I take pretty long to reply, but I'll definitely try to get back to you as soon as possible. Thank you!

#young royals #young royals netflix #yr netflix #yr #wilmon #please im begging you love this

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hopeless-ro-simptic · 4 years

Text

Familiar Cerulean Eyes Pt. 4

Click here for other parts. Part 5

Warning: This shit gets intense. Not smut but like character almost dies. Be prepared. Dabi’s alpha really comes out in this one. He angry boi.

Word Count: Just under 2.5 K

Taglist: @skzero-99 @superblyspeedydragon @jparra4587 @flyingowls @emrysaaryn @imuziawi @sheedaabee @peculiarinsomniac @littlelovebug98 @plutoneu @giftofwonder @kitty-kat-ash @fukyouthink @anarchys-bnha-mess @threbony @orenjineki @toobsessedsstuff @bamf-barnes

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You woke up from your nap, your neck stiff, to the annoying sound of Dabi’s phone going off for what you were pretty sure was the third time in five minutes. Whoever was trying to contact him really wanted his attention, and he wasn’t giving it to them.

Instead you watched with wide eyes as the annoyed villain gave another meaning to burner phone, watching the melting plastic drip onto the floor, holding it from the top of the phone so not to get the melted plastic on himself. He was sitting up on the bed and looked absolutely done with whatever was going on with that phone. Running his hands over his face pulling his skin with a deep sigh before he noticed you watching, replacing his expression with a smirk as he pulled out a cigarette lighting it with his finger and placing it between his lips before leaning back against his forearms.

“Good morning, Princess. Well I guess I should say good night.” The shadows on his face being exaggerated by the lamp next to his bed by his cigarette tray. He was just in an old tattered wife beater at this point, the hoodie piled up on the corner of his bed like he was using it as a pillow. It was only then that you noticed his singular pillow was tucked between you and the armrest of the chair you were in, and the furry blanket draped across your body. You could help but sniff it, shocked that it smelled brand new and unscented. For some reason you pouted at that. Which he didn’t miss.

“H- ahem… How long was I out?” You’re throat was dry making your voice scratchy and you were silently grateful when he reached out to you, handing you an unopened water bottle.

He hummed thoughtfully to himself glancing at the window, blowing out a puff of smoke that started to collect in the air. “Maybe five hours? I tried to get you to move to the bed and stretch out but you’re pretty mean when you’re asleep”

“I’ve been told that before,” You stood up out of the chair, letting yourself stretch out and folding the blanket up neatly on the chair, pretending like you didn’t care about it, the butterflies erupting in your stomach. You could feel the eyes of the alpha in front of you drag along your body, slowly taking in what was before him. There was nothing you could do to stop him, and after your nap your omega was starting to wake up and was enjoying the stares for once. It did feel kind of nice that someone thought of you like that, like you were something worth looking at. You tried not to dwell on it. Instead you located the snack bag, riffling through it to locate something to eat, the alpha next to you as he continued to puff smoke out like an angry dragon, making lazy circles in the air.

Finally, after some deliberation, you picked out a candy bar, turning and leaning against the dresser facing the door and opening it. Your stomach ready for food, your foggy brain, however, was not prepared for the door in front of you to collapse suddenly in ash, the number one villain in Japan standing behind it, five fingers up where the previously standing door was, rage in his blood red eyes. The stench that enveloped the room could not be mistaken for anything other than a very angry and pissed off alpha.

Dabi reacted quicker than you, jumping up in between you and the offending alpha with a snarl ripping through his throat.

“What is this? Playing hooky with some dumb useless omega? Can’t keep it in your pants, Dabi, long enough to answer my calls?” The tall and lanky blue haired alpha stepped into the room menacingly, and while Dabi was easily bigger than he was, you knew that the other alpha outranked him. That he was more dangerous.

“Get out, she’s mine.” The smell in the air was choking you as the two alphas pumped out enough pheromones to coat the entire block, along with the smoke emitting from Dabi’s body, his temperature rising and blue flames appearing in one of his hands threateningly. Your omega let out a loud chirp realizing the situation. You were in a very small flammable room, with two pissed off and very dangerous alphas. That were about to fight because of you. And you had dropped your candy bar.

Shigaraki moved first, he reached for you, but Dabi reacted faster, grabbing your wrist and spinning you behind him the opposite way past Shigaraki, thrusting his enflamed hand out towards the alpha, essentially switching your places, the lamp providing the only light in the room other than the light from the hallway outside being dusted in the process, Shigaraki hissing in pain at being touched by Dabi’s fire before he started laughing maniacally. You could smell the fear coming off of yourself as you stepped back into the door frame. You realized this was it, you could run. But you weren’t sure you would get very far. You hesitated not sure what to do, your omega chirping wildly as you searched for an answer.

Dabi continued his onslaught of fire, burning scorch marks into the walls as the blue haired alpha dodged. An annoyed hiss leaving his lips. “Kurogiri!”

Shigaraki moved again, this time disappearing into a black mist that appeared in front of him. You could hear Dabi snarl out whipping around to grab you, but he was too late. Four fingers were wrapped around your throat from behind you, and you could smell the distinct scent of ash and decay radiating off of the alpha that had you trapped. The room went silent other than your whimpers that you couldn’t control. You had heard very little about Shigaraki, but after the USJ incident, Shoto had talked about the villain who could dust anything or anyone with just a touch of five fingers. At the time you had thought the villain was scary. With how shaken up Shoto was you thought you understood what he was trying to explain. But being here, in this moment, with your life just a finger from ending, you truly understood the extent of the fear that those kids had gone through. You weren’t even sure if this villain’s quirk would work against you, but you didn’t want to test it.

“Maybe next time you’ll answer your phone instead of entertaining a stupid little omega whore.” You couldn’t even feel the tears streaming down your face, your voice had gone silent. You never smelled anything as sour as the fear radiating off of you. Not even when Endevor had engulfed you in fire for the first time when you were just a pup to test if your quirk would protect you.

“No! Please!” The look on Dabi’s face was heartbreaking. The sound of his voice cracking at seeing you like this, about to die due to his negligence, echoed around the room. The word ‘please’ ringing in your ear, almost as loud as your own roaring heartbeat.

For some reason, that word made Shigaraki pause, glancing with confusion to you behind your back, and for some reason, that brief second made you realize you didn’t want to die seeing Dabi with that look on his face, it reminded you so much of a look that another alpha had given you so long ago. So you did the only thing you could do in the moment to make him feel better.

Dabi doesn’t think he has ever heard a purr so heavenly. You sounded like an angel. Like a siren desperately calling him out to sea. He didn’t think he would ever listen to another purr again and enjoy it, with one noise you had ruined him. It was sad, scared, but beautiful and comforting and all at the same time, even with the current predicament you found yourself in. It was all that his alpha could do to return your purr with an attempt at a calming scent, one that he hadn’t emitted for a long time, and it was a shaky attempt at best, but your omega could still pick up on the change in the smell of the air. You closed your eyes, purring louder and focusing on that spicey warm smell of cinnamon, letting your mind wander back to the one of the last times you had smelled something so nice.

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“Leave her alone!” A growl came from the young red headed boy in front of you, he was getting closer and closer to presenting age and his secondary sex was growing stronger by the day. There was no doubt now that he would present as an alpha. Endevor was proud.

He was also annoyed at the pup’s disobedience.

Endevor shoved you to the ground, you chirping softly and curling in on your self as you looked up at the two males.

“You want me to leave her alone? Then prove to me that you can handle this. Do it Touya. I want you outside in five minutes, and you are going to get that move perfected or she becomes target practice.” Endevor turned to leave at that point, sending one more glare in your direction before muttering. “Prove to me there was a point in wasting the money on this runt.”

Immediately Touya dropped down in front of you, pulling you into his arms, checking you over for injuries.

“I’m fine… Touya I’m fine.” You pushed him off of you. For once in your life you were upset at him. Angry. And he couldn’t understand why.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I should have stopped him sooner. I just am too weak to over power him. I promise I’ll get stronger.”

“No! That’s not what I want! I just want you to be safe! Stop trying to prove that you can do this stupid move. Do you not see what it’s doing to you? Touya you are burning yourself up! You are going to end up hurt in a way that might not be fixable!” You stood up, brushing yourself off, ignoring the bruised pain where endevor had you held up by your throat. Ignoring the way your eyes your eyes burned with unshed tears. You couldn’t protect Touya if he was so worried about you all the time. You had to suck it up.

“Y/N,” Touya’s face looked completely torn. All he wanted to do was to be good enough for you, and if it meant hurting himself just a little he would do it.

“I have to Y/N… I have to get stronger, to be able to protect you.”

He pulled you back into his arms, placing soft little kisses to your cheeks, releasing the calming scent of cinnamon that he knew you liked so much. He would do whatever it took to keep you safe. He wouldn’t let you cry anymore. He would do whatever it took to protect you. To give you the life you deserved.

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You threw yourself into Dabi’s arms, a sob leaving you lips the second that the fingers detached from your throat. He collected you into his grasp, hugging your face to his chest, lightly pressing his lips to the top of your head, petting your hair soothingly as he glared daggers at the other alpha who was watching in awed confusion, his fingers tearing at his neck with scratches.

“What the fuck is your problem?” He was angry. He was livid. He was going to kill him for scaring his precious omega.

You couldn’t help yourself, your omega wanted comfort, from the only person in the room that would give it to her. You leaned up on your tip toes and nuzzled gently against the alpha’s scent glands, inhaling the scent of cinnamon, smoke and whiskey, trying to calm yourself down. Earning a soft strangled sound from the alpha’s throat.

“Get out!” He wasn’t going to say it again, you were finally warming up to him and it was because you were terrified. He hated that it was in this situation but all he wanted to do was to make you feel better. All his alpha wanted to do was worship you.

The blue haired alpha was scratching his neck in thought, watching the exchange between the alpha and omega in front of him. He could tell she wasn’t bonded. Hell, she wasn’t even scented by him thoroughly it seemed, yet the alpha in front of him was acting like she was more than just some groupie he found to warm his bed. As far as he was aware, Dabi had never shown any interest in an omega other than to deal with his ruts, and they usually didn’t want anything to do with him after that, screaming profanities that could be heard throughout the compound that was the leagues base where most of them stayed. In fact, Shigaraki was pretty sure Dabi never brought anyone to his personal shithole of an apartment, always stating that he didn’t want them to stink up the place.

Dabi leaned down, running his nose against your scent glands in return, cooing softly in your ear that everything was okay. You were okay. He was going to kill him and that everything was okay and then the two of you could take a nap and relax and everything was going to be okay.

For some reason, the threat didn’t even phase you.

Finally, Shigaraki groaned in annoyance. His fingers stopping their itching as he turned to the beta Kurogiri, who you just now registered was there, mumbling something quietly to him before snapping at the couple in front of him.

“If you want to play house then do it on your own time. We have a mission to do.”

“I’m not leaving her unprotected” Dabi snarled back the tension in the room still thick, causing your omega to curl further into his arms until you were flush against him, your face hiding in his neck whimpering soft pleads for him to protect you. You knew within three seconds that you much rather cuddle up against the murderer in your arms than have to face the hand covered alpha that wanted to rule the world.

“Fine, fine. Then bring your pet. I don’t care.” Shigaraki turned and slipped into the black mist that was Kurogiri’s portal, another one appearing underneath you and Dabi, swallowing you whole as you let out distressed chirps.

#bnha omegaverse #alpha dabi #omega reader #bnha #mha #mha omegaverse #dabi is a todoroki #dabi is touya #dabi #dabi x y/n #dabi x female reader #dabi x you #dabi x reader #crispy

859 notes · View notes

hootcifer · 3 years

Text

talking about toh | season two, episode eight: "knock knock knockin' on hooty's door"

holy shit

sorry this was a few days late, i was equal parts busy and lazy.

previous | first | next spoilers under the cut, as always

the beginning

awww hooty’s writing to lilith! like he promised!

btw, just so you guys know, i’ll be referring to hooty with he/they pronouns, because it makes sense to me. also i use he/they and i’m a hooty stan so it works.

I realize now that i spelled “hootsifer” wrong in my url. oh well, i like “hootcifer” better anyway. (also the url “hootsifer” is taken anyway)

oh no, hooty feels unimportant! i’m sure the large majority of the fandom is okay with this, but i’m not! poor thing.

i found it adorable that luz wants to find a way into amity's heart (even though she's had a place there since grom). how she would use the echo mouse for that, i don't know.

luz saying "we have to go" was almost a direct parallel to amity saying "I GOTTA GO" in "wing it like witches".

king's plot

i love how king is going through his angsty teen phase. that's hilarious.

why the fuck does hooty just eat people?! and then just act like that's an okay thing to do?!

i think it's a fun detail that hooty is wearing king's teacher hat from "the intruder". i love little things like that.

i like how this episode gave us some lore as to how demons on the isles work. they emerged from the muck of a decomposing titan? that's dope! it's also cool how there's three main types of demons.

hooty is a worm?!

on the board with all the bug demons, i recognized the butterfly alador kept chasing in "escaping expulsion", as well as adagast from "witches before wizards", the bear trap demon from "the intruder", and the kindergarten teacher from "i was a teenage abomination".

it was neat to see the fairy from "a lying witch and a warden" and the butterfly... thing from "witches before wizards". more neat continuity stuff!

what did king say with his dance? i'm very curious.

maybe king didn't want to talk about the cocoon, but i certainly do! what the hell happened?!

because of some of the images in the background when hooty was talking about demons, we can infer that some students of hexside are demons and not witches. i wonder if witches are more powerful than demons, or if they're on the same level.

other biped demons i recognize are the bounty hunter, tibbles, one of the pirates, warden wrath, and braxus.

i also saw a cat-person. are catgirls and catboys a thing on the isles?

i like how tiny nose and hooty are friends. somehow, it makes sense.

was tiny nose playing on a nintendo switch? that's cool.

we got to see even more past demons from the section about beasts, such as the ratworms, the echo mouse, the trash slug, the selikdomus, the slitherbeast, and the snaggleback.

has tiny nose's voice changed, or is that just me?

i'm really curious as to what the heck king is. is he a unique kind of demon? a hybrid, maybe?

i thought it was sweet that hooty and tiny nose tried to celebrate king for who he is, even though it just made him sad. they're trying.

eda's plot

hooty had a good point in wanting eda to sleep. sleep is important! says the guy who regularly stays up until at least midnight.

i completely understand hooty's fear of the owl beast. remember what happened last time?

the cookies hooty made were very cute. i loved that.

hey, the sleeping nettles are back! the same thing luz and hunter used a few episodes back to put kikimora's steed to sleep.

we got to see eda's dad! we know very little about him, but we did see him. also, did he look like nigel thornberry to anyone else? no? just me? okay then.

it broke my heart seeing raine and eda breaking up. it was neat that we got confirmation that they were together!

eda clearly regrets pushing raine away. poor thing.

who is the cloaked figure? i've seen a lot of theories that it's amity, but that makes no sense. i don't think she was even alive at this point. it could be odalia, though. that would be a cool twist.

the little owl beast was so cute. i want a plush of that.

HARPY EDA! holy shit, she's so cool. top tier character design.

luz (and amity)'s plot

you better bet your ass i have a lot to say about this! plot! okay, let's start from the beginning.

i was really hoping we would get some mutual pining lumity this season, and by god did it deliver! luz referring to her as a "cotton-candy-haired goddess" was too cute.

from what she said, it sounds like this isn't the first time luz has tried to ask someone out. she's so afraid of getting rejected. wait a minute, amity was afraid of getting rejected too! that's a parallel i didn't even realize!

i wasn't expecting to see amity this episode! it looks like her parents let her keep her purple hair. that, or the twins are using illusions to hide her hair from their parents.

i love how hooty's solution to getting amity to the owl house is to straight-up eat her. that's one way to do things.

i really want to know more about house demons. are there more than one? are they all bird-like? are they born as houses or do they just inhabit houses? so many questions and not enough lore!

the way luz interrupted amity when she suggested "forgetting" about what happened in front of blight manor reminded me of how eda kept interrupting king last episode when she thought he was going to tell her he was planning on leaving.

i'm not gonna lie, i skipped through the majority of the tunnel of love scene. that kind of thing gives me second-hand embarrassment like you wouldn't believe.

my heart shattered into pieces when amity said that the idea of her adting luz was stupid. she obviously doesn't believe it, but she's probably been trying to convince herself of it.

this part had me terrified that the lumity plot for the episode would end there. thank goodness it didn't, eh?

the ending

AAAAAAAAAAAA

okay, okay, let's start from when hooty freaks out for a third time, after the tunnel of love.

i thought it was funny how hooty ripped himself out of the door in order to run (?) away. at least we didn't have to hear all the sounds this time.

wait, "things always get weird when hooty's upset"? has this kind of thing happened before?

gosh, the part where king's voice powers saved luz and amity was so cool. i saw somewhere that the animator wanted to reflect the lesbian and bi flags and they did a great job.

eda encouraging luz to ask amity out was so cute. we stan a supportive mom, always.

and then comes the scene everyone's been talking about. oh my gosh, this was done so beautifully! it was equally awkward and cute, the way it should have been, and the fact that they both asked each other was perfect!

LOOK AT HOW HAPPY AMITY IS WHEN SHE SAYS YES!!! this is the happiest we have ever seen her, and it's adorable.

something i really love about this scene is the fact that they didn't say "i love you" or even kiss, like what seems to happen in a lot of confession scenes. they just held hands. it was probably one of the most realistic confession scenes i've ever seen. it kind of reminded me of when my gf and i got together.

oh yeah, that's right! they're officially together!!!!!!! FINALLY!!! i was not expecting anything that happened in this episode, but out of everything this one was the most surprising. holy SHIT! we have a canonically sapphic couple! in a disney cartoon! a disney cartoon!

honestly, i hope everyone has gained more respect for hooty after this. they've helped further the plot more in one episode than anyone else has done throughout the rest of the show.

we got to see king's dad properly for the first time! i don't think we'll see him in "eclipse lake", but maybe we will in the episode after that? i hope so.

everyone's freaking out about hooty eating the letter but... can't they just... throw it back up? like they did at the beginning of "really small problems"?

predictions

to my knowledge, the next episode is going to be about amity looking for an ingredient for the new portal. i also know that eda, king, and hunter will be there too. i don't know what to expect, but i am very excited. until next time!

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yeojaa · 4 years

Text

( SOMETHING COMFORTING. )

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

pairing. gamer!jjk x named f!reader.

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

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

wc. 9.7k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I need healing! I need healing!

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

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

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

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

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

“You winning?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You should go top left.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Whaddya mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You said you’d go as witch Mercy.”

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

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

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

“Okay, but I forgot to get the—“

“I have it!”

Jeon Jungkook has an answer for everything, it seems.

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

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

“You’ll see.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, you haunt me in my dreams.”

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

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

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

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

“It’s because I’m a-maize-ing, ang—”

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

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

“Are you going to put on yours yet?”

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

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

Today, it comes after the fourth count.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good job, Kook.”

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

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

“Losers don’t get to complain.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Jimin-ssiiiii.”

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

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

You absolutely loved it.

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

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

“Drink this!”

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

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

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

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

“K-Kook’s g-going to kill you—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you drunk?”

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

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

(He really is, you think.)

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

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

You do. You really, really do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Or I’ll help you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Start the shower.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sounds like sin and feels like heaven.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you,” he whispers against your temple, out of breath and sweat-slick despite the water that rains down upon you.

“I love you,” you answer, pressing a kiss to the hand that still twines with yours. “But I still need you to wash my hair.” It’s cheeky and you know it so you don’t even mind when he bites into the meat of your shoulder, leaving a pretty red mark that’ll bloom for the next few days. “Ow!”

“You’re a brat.” Said even as he’s reaching for your shampoo bar, teasing it through your roots with practiced movements. He’s careful despite his scathing tone, gentle despite how he glares at you from the corner of your periphery. Each tangle is neatly undone and not a single bubble gets in your eye, much to your joy.

“I thought I was an angel.” You’re taking a page out of his book, speaking in fluent pout.

He catches your lips with his own, pushing your lathered up head beneath the steady stream when he withdraws and speaks. Suds run across your cheeks, eyes shielded only by the hand he keeps steady along your hairline. Even so mean, your boyfriend is still terribly nice. “You’re my angel - but you’re still a brat.”

You can’t argue with that.

tag list. @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi

672 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 4 years

Note

Would love to see a wired autocomplete interview with coops! 🥰

Anon, did you read my mind? These two have such chaotic energy when they’re given an outlet and it was a true pleasure to write it. Dorcas is exhausted. Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“Wait, I want to pull the tab,” Remus said, tugging on the edge of the cardboard lightly as Sirius tried to hold it out of his reach without falling off his chair.

“I get to read it out loud for you and then we switch!” Sirius protested, smacking him gently on the head with it. The resulting bonk noise made them both break down laughing.

“You guys know we’re rolling, right?” Dorcas asked as she gathered a stack of cards in her lap, looking highly amused.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She turned to the camera with a bright smile. “Welcome back to Lion Pride, hockey fans! I’m Dorcas Meadowes and I’m here today with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin to answer some of the internet’s most pressing questions. How are you two feeling?”

“Terrified,” Sirius said.

“The internet is like the Twilight Zone,” Remus agreed. “Who goes first?”

“Sirius, you’ve got a card already. Take it away.”

He cleared his throat and grabbed the edge of the first pull tab, ripping it off slowly. “That is so satisfying, woah. How tall is Remus Lupin?”

“I am five foot eleven and a half.”

“That half inch comes from your sneakers and you know it.”

“It does not!”

Sirius just smiled and removed the next paper slip. “What language does Remus Lupin speak?”

“I speak English and a little bit of French. Tried to learn Spanish in high school, but failed miserably.”

“I love the wording on this one,” Sirius said as he turned the board toward the camera. “Remus Lupin Green Bay Packers.”

“Dammit, now everyone knows my full name,” Remus sighed. “Uh, the Packers are cool.”

“I think people were wondering if you ever played on the team,” Dorcas said.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Do I look like a football player to you?”

“Next question!” Sirius ripped the tab off and took a good section of the paper above with it. There was a beat of stunned silence. “I am…so sorry.”

Behind the camera, Marlene burst out laughing, along with most of the camera crew. “It’s fine, keep reading.”

“Okay, um…” Sirius squinted at the partially torn-off question. “Remus Lupin name meaning.”

Remus groaned. “I hate this question. Yes, it does mean Wolf Wolf. Yes, my dad’s name also means Wolf Wolf. Yes, my mother’s maiden name is Howell. I’m aware of the endless puns.”

“Don’t you mean a-were?” Sirius asked as a slow grin spread across his face. Remus grabbed the card and bonked him over the head with it.

“Remus, your turn.” Dorcas handed him a poster board and took the blank one.

“I’m going to be careful with this one, unlike somebody,” he teased, kissing Sirius on the cheek. “Is Sirius Black…related to Pascal Dumais?”

“In all the ways that matter, yes.”

Remus grinned when he read the next one. “Is Sirius Black missing a tooth?”

“No!” Sirius gave the camera an offended look. “I have all my teeth, thank you very much.”

“Is Sirius Black mean?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Reporters don’t like you very much.”

“The feeling is mutual. I love the fans though, most of them are so sweet.”

“Oh, I like this one. Is Sirius Black married?” Remus rested his chin on the top of the card and batted his eyelashes, making Sirius laugh.

“Almost! Ask me again in July.” Remus set the card on the floor and Dorcas passed Sirius a new one. “Does Remus Lupin wear glasses?”

“Nope.”

“Does Remus Lupin—I have never said your name so many times in one sitting, my god—does Remus Lupin have siblings?”

“Yup.”

“Does Remus Lupin—”

“Can you elaborate?” Dorcas asked with a laugh. “How many siblings? Names? Ages?”

Remus turned to the camera. “I have one brother named Julian and he’s ten years old. He likes piggyback rides, ice cream, and hockey.”

“Much better. Take it away, Cap.”

“Does Remus Lupin have allergies?”

Remus frowned in confusion. “Why do people want to know that? Uh, yeah, I’m allergic to some pollens. Spring is hell.”

“How many of these do we have?” Sirius asked as he tossed the board over his shoulder and crossed his legs.

“Quite a few! Loops, you’re up.”

“Where is Sirius Black from?”

“Canada.”

“Where does Sirius Black live?”

“The Lions ice rink. I set up a tent in the middle of the goal posts every night so that I’m never late to practice.”

“Sirius Black gay.”

Sirius paused. “I think we’re missing a couple words in there.”

“That’s literally all it says,” Remus laughed, moving it to show him. “Sirius Black gay. I don’t know, honey, Sirius Black gay?”

“Sirius Black very gay,” he confirmed. “Sirius Black thinks people need to have better grammar.”

“Is Sirius Black’s hair naturally curly?”

“No, I use a curling iron every morning to do each individual curl,” he said. “It takes me seven hours and thirteen minutes, and I use a full can of hairspray.”

Remus scooted over so Dorcas could hand him a new card. “He keeps a stopwatch and tries to beat his personal record every time.”

Sirius pulled the first tab away and immediately started laughing too hard to speak.

“What does it say? You can’t just leave me hanging!” Sirius turned the board around and Remus leaned down to read it. “Is Remus Lupin hockey? Yes. I am the entire sport of hockey condensed into one being. I’m coming for basketball next. Thanks for asking!”

It took a few seconds for Sirius to get his breath back. “What is Remus Lupin—”

“I thought we just answered that.”

“—what is Remus Lupin zodiac sign?”

Remus paused. “Is that the thing Pots was talking about the other day? With the quiz?”

“That was love languages.”

“Your zodiac sign depends on your birthday,” Marlene called. “When were you born?”

“March 10th.”

“You’re a Pisces.”

“I’m a Pisces!” he said brightly to the camera. “No idea what that means, but it sounds cool.”

“It means you’re two fish.” She laughed as Remus sucked his cheeks in for a fish face. “Very nice.”

“Thank you.”

Sirius was especially careful as he pulled the paper slip off the next question. “What is Remus Lupin first job?”

“The grammar of these questions is killing me. Um, I worked in the university bookstore during college.”

“On the list of ‘things that don’t surprise anyone’,” Dorcas joked.

“Did Remus Lupin go to college?”

Remus gave the camera a look. “First of all, I have a medical degree. Second of all, did people completely forget about the whole ‘about to be drafted right out of college’ thing? It was a grand total of four years ago! Google it!”

“That’s what they did,” Sirius pointed out, gesturing to the board.

“True.”

“Last one for this card: how old is Remus Lupin?”

Remus thought for a moment. “Y’know, I kind of lost track after the first few centuries. My turn…what is Sirius Black real name?”

Sirius glanced at the camera. “It’s Sirius Black? Is this a trick question?”

“There are people out there who think that’s a fake name,” Dorcas said.

“Um, okay. Yeah, my real name is Sirius Black, my brother is Regulus, my dad is Orion, and I have cousins named Andromeda and Bellatrix.”

“What’s your uncle’s name again?” Remus asked.

“Which one? Cygnus? Phineas Nigellus? Arcturus?” At Dorcas’ surprised look, he laughed. “Oh, I could go all day long with this. That’s the tea on old French families with weird-ass naming traditions.”

“This next one is similar: Sirius Black middle name?”

“Orion.”

“Fun fact: the first time I saw your full name, Moody had written it and I thought it said ‘onion’.” Remus laughed as Sirius’ jaw fell open. “Those three seconds were a highlight of my life. Alright, what’s next…what color are Sirius Black’s eyes?”

“Blue.”

Remus shook his head. “They’re gray, almost silver.”

“Basically blue.”

“There’s nothing basic about you, babe.” Remus slid the board onto the floor and passed Sirius a new one. “Hit me with your best shot.”

“Is Remus Lupin Canadian?”

“I wish.”

“Is Remus Lupin left-handed?”

“No, but a lot of people seem to think that I am.”

“Is—” Sirius cut off with a snort. “Is Remus Lupin scrappy?”

“Are you fucking with me?” Remus asked, leaning over. “Is that actually what it says?”

“Yep.”

“Scrappy? Really?” He shook his head, lost for words. “I mean, I guess. Nobody’s ever called me scrappy before.”

“I don’t like this last one. How much is Remus Lupin worth?” Sirius wrapped an arm around his shoulders and kissed his temple. “You’re priceless.”

“I’m worth at least half a PB & J, but only if you use the good peanut butter. If you use the shitty Skippy stuff, hand over the whole sandwich. My turn! Does Sirius Black have piercings?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Does Sirius Black have an Instagram?”

“I do. Sblack12, if you want to see pictures of my friends’ kids and this cutie.”

“Is Sirius Black Australian?”

“Fuck off. I’m French Canadian, how the hell did anyone think I was Australian?”

“Sirius Black birthday.”

“I have one.”

“What is it?” Marlene asked. “I’ll tell you your zodiac sign.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “November 3rd.”

“Scorpio bitch.”

“Hey!”

“On the bright side, Scorpios and Pisces are super compatible.”

“What a relief, I was really banking on our astrology compatibility,” Remus said drily.

Dorcas handed Sirius a fresh board. “First up: can Remus Lupin sing?”

“Eh.”

“The correct answer is yes. What is Remus Lupin like in real life?”

“I’m horrible. I kick every puppy I see and carry one of those sticky hands from arcades to steal candy from children.” A smile twitched at the edges of his mouth and Sirius’ cheeks turned pink from suppressing his laughter. “Like Spiderman, but evil.”

“What happened to Remus Lupin after college?”

“What didn’t happen to Remus Lupin after college?” he laughed, leaning back in his seat. “These past couple years have been bonkers fucking yonkers. I became a PT, got a secret boyfriend, and now I’m engaged and an NHL player. There were, like, three seasons of character development squished into eighteen months.”

“Alright, last one. Why Remus Lupin kissed Sirius Black?”

“Because he’s hot and nice. Also, because he’s my fiancé.”

“Is that the criteria for kisses?” Sirius asked. “I just have to be hot and nice?”

“Pretty much. You’ve got both boxes permanently checked.”

“Final card,” Dorcas warned as she handed it to him. “Make it count.”

Remus cleared his throat. “How does Sirius Black work out?”

“I rollerskate and hula hoop for six hours a day simultaneously.”

“How old is Sirius Black?”

“Ageless.”

“How did Sirius Black meet Remus Lupin?”

“Fun story, actually. You know the movie Ocean’s Eleven?”

“Are Sirius Black and James Potter—”

“Dating.”

“—still friends.”

“Damn, I thought I had that one.” He did a double take. “Still friends? What happened? I saw him an hour ago, tops.”

“You might have to google it,” Remus suggested as he slid the board across the floor. “That’s it!”

“Way to go, guys,” Dorcas laughed. “I know literally nothing new about you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sirius said as the two high-fived. “We were completely honest the whole time.”

She faced the camera with a poorly-hidden smile. “Thanks for joining us today, Lions, and remember to like and subscribe for more content!”

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all-might-can-smash-me · 4 years

Text

Paparazzi

Keigo Takami/Hawks x Reader

Summary: You meet Hawks one day at your store and you and him strike of a friendship that turns romantic....but the paparazzi manage to get it to the rest of the world not even 24 hours later

This shit is long, sorry not sorry

Masterlist

Crushes were just....well.... crushes, right? Especially celebrity crushes or crushes on fictional characters. Usually the average person will develop one or more crushes on celebrity or fictional beings, it was just the way the human brain (or something like the human brain for some people) worked. You yourself grew up with many celebrity and fictional crushes. The walls of your childhood room were (and probably still filled) with the posters of the heroes you adored growing up, the bands, singers, and artist you admired, and personal favorite characters from the shows or movies you’ve had seen and fell in love within the span of your teenage lifetime. Even now you admired celebrities and the such, but now it was mostly just giving them a like and follow on their tiktok or Instagram or admiring a picture or two when you came upon it, that’s it. Being an adult now and owning your own little grocery store, inherited from your parents of course, in the middle of the busy life of the city was enough to squelch your once childish habits, but sometimes you would allow yourself to flip through the gossip magazines you had set up to see the new and old faces of celebrities and heroes to see which one was hot or not, but that really wasn’t weird for such a mundane person to do.

All that crushing business would stay in the fantasy portion of your brain however, to never once think that you would have one of the fantasies you would once dream about as a teenager about a celebrity or fictional crush sweeping you away on your feet. Just thinking that something like that could happen was laughable really, it almost made you laugh now as you perused the magazine rack you had finally finished setting up, the hours of the day now almost bordering the parent’s definition of ‘its getting late’, which honestly meant that it was 7:30, as your employee hummed behind the cash register, fiddling with the pens and note pads scattered about at the counter.

“Hey, toss me one of those magazines.” Called out the cashier, you handing over the magazine, watching their hands drag towards them to let their eyes scan the bold headings on the front page and soon the face that was the eye catcher of it all. “Pro Hero Hawks is always on the front of the magazines....isn’t he so dreamy looking...” hummed out the younger girl, you only gave a snort as your hand went back to fidgeting the flimsy magazines and puzzle books that seemed only the elderly would purchase.

“Yeah, he’s handsome alright, but I don’t get my hopes up about that fantasy coming true.” You joked, the girl only giving a sad nod in agreement. With a laugh, you bent over to pick up the empty box that once held the new issues of magazines, starting to unfold it from its shape.

“Yeah I know, but still, just imagine it though....what if he just came sauntering in here now? To sweep one of us off our feet?” She said with her young, dreamy little look. You only rolled your eyes, shoving the unfolded ripped up box in the recycling bin, grabbing the magazine and giving a gentle and playful wack to the young girl’s head before placing it back on the rack.

“Yeah? Well the day that happens is the day I’ll believe anything to be possible.” You spoke with a laugh as you leaned against the counter, though the bell hanging upon the glass door gave off its soft chime to signify a new patron had entered your humble grocery store. You head automatically moved to see who had just walked in out of habit, but you probably should have already known who had entered inside your shop just by the look upon the cashier’s face. Hawks stood there at the entrance, those eyes of his glancing back and forth between you and the cashier. The shock was probably evident upon your faces.

“Um....is this like a bad time or something?” He soon questioned which you quickly shook your head at his word, finally snapping yourself out of your dumbfounded haze. Honestly there was no reason to be so shocked over another person, he was just a normal human being that was idolized who just happened to do amazing things for the safety of the society you lived in, but the coincidence of your previous conversation set your body in a rage of jitters.

“No! Not at all! Sorry if we seemed shocked, we don’t usually get sidekicks in here let alone heroes.” You spoke out with a laugh, hand sliding over the counter to give the young girl a little nudge on her shoulder to snap her out of her daze of the handsome hero before her. At that a bright blush crawled onto her face as she set her gaze down to the plastic keys of the cashier.

“Alright...cool...” he said with a shrug of his shoulders, already beginning to make his slow walk to the many things you had on display. The chips, candy, drinks, the instant ramen, the food that sat in the freezer ready to be eaten right away for the late night student or the person craving a bite or to be heated in the microwave station with running water off to the side next to the few tables you had for them to sit down and rest while they ate. The silence almost seemed to suffocate you as you listened to his shuffling and tried not to really stare. Though he seemed to hesitate a bit before finally turning around in his path, making his way up to the counter where you and the cashier still stood at.

“Sorry to bother you, but do you have any chicken ramen? Or anything that just has chicken in it or something?” He asked, hands pushing up the glasses that sat over his eyes and up upon his head. You looked to your cashier, expecting her to speak up, but that embarrassed look upon her face spoke volumes to you as you looked back to Hawks, that costumer service smile already plastered upon your face as you waved him to follow.

“Of course! I really need to take the time to organize all those products, costumers and tourist come in and always swap everything around.” You spoke up, leading him down the isles of your small store expertly before moving to the coolers of food that was ready to go/heated and the ramen. “This is our chicken selection in ramen, after you pay you can either leave and fix it at home or use our water and microwave station to eat here...then in the coolers we have onigiri with chicken....um....we carry egg and chicken Sandos...the information on how it should be consumed is on the label, so make sure your careful about reading and following the directions....” you muttered out as you pointed to all the things, which he nodded his head.

“Sorry if that question was dumb...it’s been a long day.” He said as he scratched the back of his neck. He had to admit, he felt kind of stupid asking that question now with now knowing the fact everything was honestly right in front of his face.

“We all have those days, I hope you can find something you like though, if there’s anything else I’ll be upfront.” You said as you were already heading back up to the front counter, casting a ‘pull yourself together women!’ look to your employee who only mouthed out an apology as she facepalmed and cringed at her own behavior. Hawks was soon rummaging through the ramen, arms soon filled with containers and a lonesome cup ramen, walking up to the counter to gently let everything slip onto the surface.

“Hold on, I got one more thing.” He muttered out as he stepped up to the magazine rack, shamelessly grabbing the one that had his face smack dab in the middle, tossing it onto the counter. “I swear, that’s it.” He joked, but that joke received radio silence from the cashier as her hands shakily went to begin ringing up his things. You couldn’t help but cringe for her, you didn’t blame her either, if it were you a few years ago behind that counter it would have been the same scenario.

“You want it bagged?” You asked, hand already grabbing one of the paper bags you had off to the side, ready to be used, though he only brought up a hand to politely halt your actions.

“Nah, I’ll eat here, enjoy the scenery.” He said with a little wink, already handed over the money, of course he said to not worry about the change as he scooped up everything back into his arms, whistling away to the eating area, beginning to already prepare his food, phone lazily in his hand as he did so.

“Are you ok? It seemed like you were about to drop dead any moment.” You whispered out as you leaned over the counter to your employee, she only shoving her face in her hands.

“Oh don’t even bring it up! He’s not even gone yet...” she whispered back, grabbing the paper bag that was still within your hands, placing it back, though she seemed hesitant to say something. “Could you....get his autograph for me?” She soon whispered out.

“What?!” You whispered back, casting a quick glance over your shoulder and to the hero who now lounged back at the seating area, magazine now clutched within one hand, the other feeding himself. “I don’t want to bother him, I-“ though your whispers were cut off by her own.

“Come on! Please? I’m a mess and when am I ever going to get it again?” She said, hands clasped before her as she begged to you with her whispers. You stood there, only being able to stare at her before finally nodding your head vigorously.

“Fine...fine...gimme a pen and paper...” you muttered out lowly, the girl quietly brought up a fist to the air lowly to show her victory before she scrambled around, hand clutching onto a pen, though her eyes landed on the magazines, which she gestured for you to grab one, which you did, placing it before her as she skillfully brought a pair of scissors to the cover, cutting out the front cover neatly of Hawks’ face, handing it to you along with the pen.

“Take the magazine out my pay check and I’ll owe you one too, thank you so much.” She whispered out, you only taking the pen and picture with the feeling of embarrassment already eating away at your stomach. Though you began to walk towards the eating area, almost painfully slow, trying to prolong the encounter with the hero you knew was going to be probably awkward.

“Hey...um...can I get your autograph?” You asked, handing over the pen and paper to him. You tried to seem nonchalant about it, but the minute shake in your hands almost blew your cover as he looked up from the gossip columns he was reading, swallowing the food that was in his mouth.

“Yeah, sure!” He said, that same charming smile that graced the covers of every magazine now plastered upon his face and it honestly has you in a trance. You didn’t even notice he took the pen and paper from your hands if it weren’t for the soft brush of his fingers against yours that sent your body into a mess of tingles from the sensation. “What’s you name sweetheart? I bet it’s something that sounds pretty, you know, to match you.” He said with a smirk, pen already scribbling down his signature.

“What?” You dumbly said, though a soft blush had risen to your cheeks as you shook your head. “Sorry, the autograph isn’t for me, it’s for my employee.” You cleared up, leaning up against the table that was adjacent to the one he sat in.

“Oh, gotcha.” He said as he capped the pen, soon handing it back to you along with the autograph of the improvised photo. He had to admit, he was kind of disappointed that it didn’t seem like you were his fan. “Whose signature would you like anyway? I could probably get it for you though, to even the score between you and your employee over there.” He said, looking past you and raising his hand to give a teasingly flirtatious wave to her, amused to see the young girl turn into a blushing mess as she hid behind her hair.

“Well you know, I like All Might, who doesn’t, you, Endeavor, you know, the ones I see most often on those magazines.” You said as you motioned to the magazine that was now left open and off to the side of where he had stopped reading. “But maybe if I was younger I would have died and resurrected to get any of those autographs. Now? I got more important things to worry about.” You said with a little laugh as you motioned to the establishment around you.

“An independent business gal? Hm, I like it.” He said with another one of those borderline flirtatious smirks, leaving your insides a frenzy upon a single glance, but only if you knew those soft chimes of your voice were seemingly tugging at his own heart gently. “I’ll be sure to keep supporting the business then.” He said as he soon stood up, almost looming over you for a second before he had moved to toss away his trash in it’s respected trash can, the magazine now tucked under his arm, wings ruffling a bit as he made his way to that glass door smudged with the many fingerprints off that day’s patrons “Catch ya on the flip side!” He said with a laugh before casting another amusing wink to the cashier, the door shutting with another chime, living the store in a silence until it was filled with your employer’s squeals.

“He winked at me! He smirked at me! He smiled at me!!! But did you even hear what he told you!” She gushed out as you were now back up to the front, handing her the autograph, pen set back aside. “He was totally making googly eyes at you and flirting with you!” She said as she hugged the autograph close to her chest, though stopped soon to smooth out the paper.

You only brushed it off as just her fantasies gone haywire within her head, but only if you could tell the future. He had become a regular costumer. He’d saunter in right at the same time ever night, get the same things every time. It came to the point where you or the cashier working would gather everything right before he would enter, which it always seemed to brighten his face up when everything would already be waiting for him to pay at the counter. Then he would chat up a storm with you. About what? Anything! Your favorite color? He wanted to know what it was and why. Favorite food? How was your day? He always kept a conversation going with you, always managed to squeeze out a blush and get you to laugh that laugh that was contagious, at least it was for himself. It was all like a really strange dream that you couldn’t wake up from, because who would have ever thought that this is how you spent some of the hours of your day doing?

“Hawks? What is that?” You questioned as you were stocking the magazines for your usual late hour routine, watching him carry in a box carefully through the door way, setting it gently down on the sales counter.

“Come on, look.” He said, you placing the stack of magazines that were once balanced in your arms back in the box at your feet, now free to move beside him, eyes trained on him and soon to the box. “Well go on, it’s not gonna bite you....I hope.” He teased, you only giving a roll of your eyes as you pushed back the flaps, eyes soon peering in.

“What?!” You exclaimed as you soon reached in, pulling out the contents of the box carefully. It seemed like it was never ending with framed pictures of almost every pro hero worth mentioning in Japan. “What in the world? Why-?” Though he only gave a smug smile as he coolly leaned his back up against the counter.

“Oh you know....to hang them up somewhere around here, give a little spice you know.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. “People will come in and see them, then they’ll tell others that this is probably getting a lot of attention from the pros so then it will get others to come and blah blah blah...” he said, crossing his arms before casting a glance down at you as you admired the many signatures before you. “Plus I had some free time to bother them all for their autographs and I just really wanted you to one up this little gal here.” He said, motioning to the girl at the cash register who had become all too familiar now with pro hero now thanks to seeing him every night, but that didn’t stop her from still almost dying of embarrassment.

You only responded to his words with an embrace, arms thrown around his neck as you let out your amused giggles at his explanation, that grin upon your face all the validation he needed to answer whether or not you liked it.

“Thank you, Hawks, that was thoughtful of you....even if your attentions were only to be competitive.” You mumbled out, feel the soft rumble of your voice against his chest as he returned the hug back. The contact with you was satisfying, but you pulled away even if he honestly could just have spent an eternity like that.

He was right though, once those bad boys were up on display, your business got more traction. Tourist would come, fans would come to admire the neatly framed autographs and munch away at the eating area and geek away and other heroes had begun to visit your humble store as well. Your store hours had soon turned into 24/7, the place becoming a hot spot for heroes and sidekicks in the area during their patrol hours. People like Fatgum would come during the day for a quick fix and Eraserhead, who had also become a regular costumer in the late night patrols, would come to get a pick me up for the rest of his late patrols. Heck, you now even had superhero merchandise now on that you could barely keep stocked!

“Hawks! You missed it! Endeavor was in here! The Endeavor!” Called out the cashier as Hawks had stepped through the door, seeming to forget the painful embarrassment she would usually feel with interacting with him.

“Endeavor? Really? I’m actually even shocked at that.” He said with a grin as he leaned against the counter, a hand reaching up to absentmindedly twist the messy strands of his hair, wings giving a quick stretch before folding themselves back, one of his feathers placing the money for his usual purchase down on the counter as his free hand slid all of the food he would buy toward himself.

“Yeah, he’s scarier in person.” You called out with a laugh as you appeared from the storage room, a hand reaching up to push back the frizzy strands of hair that had escaped from your hairdo. “But yes, he did stop by to buy one of those cheap jumbo sized bottled water.” You recalled as you soon stood beside him, hands on your hips as you looked quizzically out to your store, trying to see if you missed anything. Hawks took that moment to look over to you, eyes adoring the scrunch of your eyebrows that formed when you were stressful thinking about something.

“Hey, you know, I did get that pretty name from you, but how about a number....and possibly a date?” He soon spoke, fingertips tapping against the counter top, you snapping out of your train of thought to look at him, eyebrows raised.

“Excuse me?” You asked, a little lost for words at his own that he spoke out. He seemed to not be affected though as he now stood up straight, a hand still rested on the counter’s surface.

“I’m asking you out on a date and I also want you number.” He bluntly said with his phone already in his hands with a smirk as he watched in amusement to see you physically try and let yourself process what he had just said. You were honestly trying to make sure your brain wasn’t really just playing a lucid fantasy before your eyes. Though finally you grabbed his phone, thumbs tapping down your number before handing it back to him.

“Great, I’ll pick you up at what, 7:30 tomorrow? Dress nice, I’ll get your address later.” He said as he was already backing out of the store, food forgotten on the counter, leaving you a numbed mess of nerves, your cashier in a frenzy at what she had just witnessed. He was true to his word too, he got your address from you and he showed up to the front door of your apartment with a knocked right on time the next day, handsome in his smart clothes, it was strange to see him out of his hero costume, a pair of shades over his eyes.

“Hey, you think these glasses are a good disguise?” He asked with a grin as he reached a hand up to straighten them out as you opened the door, though you only snorted as you leaned against the door frame.

“I would say so....if it weren’t for those.” You said as you motioned to his wings, which he only let out a laugh as he watched you slip on your shoes and retrieve you purse.

“Shit, you’re right, but first let me just say that you simply take my breath away.” He said as he admired you, you only rolling eyes as you nudged forward into order to step out into the hall to close and lock your door. The date, was nice, a little more intimate than the conversations you had at your business, but still, they felt like they could go on for hours and hours. It was those kinds of conversations that just made you feel...complete? It was the type of conversation that by the end would make your throat and mouth dry, but in a good way from all the talking and laughing that would be exchange. It was the type of conversation that made you feel energetic and your face hurt from the bashful smiles and grins he would grow upon your lips. They would have went for hours and hours if it weren’t for the servers starting to get antsy about the need for the two of you to leave in a timely manner for the next reservation. The car ride home was quiet between the two of you with only ambiance from the rain that had begun to fall, the fellow traveling cars, and the soft low music that purred from his radio. Though there didn’t need to be any conversations to be spoken as his hand rested upon your thigh over the dress you wore, your pinky hooked with his. That was all the conversation you needed as he helped you out of the vehicle, the two of you making your way quickly through the downpour of rain and inside of the apartment complex and up to your floor where you soon stood before him at your door, your fingers gently hooked to his as you looked up to him.

“I...enjoyed tonight.” You soon spoke up, letting go of his hand to reach your own hand up to push back the pieces of your hair that managed to get soaked and stick to the side of your face. Another bit of silence lifted as all Hawks felt he could do was just be mesmerized by you before him. Those lips came upon yours finally, the both of you caught in a passionate kiss that you enjoyed every second of until he pulled away.

“Open that door...” he softly spoke out, nodding his head to the locked door that stood beside the two of you. The jingle of your keys was a melody that sent goosebumps up his arms and jitters to his hands that rested upon your hips as he listened to the keys slide into the lock and jiggle around before that damned door was open.

“Keigo Takami....that is who I am...” he softly spoke out behind the privacy of the closed door and also against the smooth skin of your face that he was currently peppering many soft and gentle kisses upon.

The next morning you were the first to awake, stretching as you sat up at the side of the bed, eyes staring to the early hours of morning beyond the window. The confirmation of last night snoring beside you, wings jutting out in awkward angles, feathers ruffled from sleep. You let a soft smile crawl onto your lips as a hand reached to gently smooth over his hair before getting up, getting dressed, and leaving the apartment with a single note behind.

“Gone to work....lock door when you leave, key is at front door...” he groggily mumbled out as he scratched his head, fingertips gently holding up the sticky note that was stuck to the reflective surface of the fridge. He only shrugged his shoulders as he rummaged through the pantries, finally accumulating cereal, a bowl and spoon, and milk, soon getting his fixing and placing everything away, now lazily lounging on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand as he turned on the tv to munch away at his breakfast.

“Now that the weather and national news is out the way, we have some pretty hot topics on our top heroes!” Chipped out the upbeat women on the tv screen, which Keigo only rolled his eyes at.

“Hot you say? Yeah sure, bring it on sister...” he muttered out as he only continued to shovel the cereal into his mouth as he continued to listen, that bored look etched onto his face.

“Now today we are faced with the conundrum of if our beloved Hawks has found love or turned player.” Came out the voice again, though Keigo only froze, gulping down the cereal that was in his mouth.

“What?!” He shouted, now at the edge of his seat as he glared down to the tv screen through his groggy eyes.

“Our team managed to capture pictures of Hawks and this mystery woman and from what eye witness say, he and the mystery woman entered the apartment after their date at....” though the words were drowned out by the blaring of his phone ringing, which he was quick to answer it.

“Shit....yeah I know.....damage control, what? No, I’m not just screwing around with her!” he shouted into the phone as he shoveled the rest of the cereal into his mouth, placing the bowl in the sink before beginning to pace around your kitchen.

“Hey! The new issues of magazines came in early!” Called out the morning hour worker as you stepped in, raising a brow as you stepped up to the delivery that was already waiting for you at the rack of magazines.

“Really? That’s odd...” you mumbled out as you bent down, starting to rip off the tape and pull back the flaps, reaching a hand in to grab one of the magazines to pull it out, eyes looking to the bold headlines on the cover.

‘Hawks Turned lover? Or player?’

Your hands viciously opened up the magazine, flipping to the page that the story was advertised to be on, your jaw dropping upon seeing the paparazzi photos of you and Keigo of him picking you up, of the two of you on your date , and the kiss shared between the two of you and of him entering your apartment. It was like your body was frozen as you stared down to the photos in front of you, your life now on blast to the whole world.

“Shit..” you finally managed out as as you roughly closed the magazine, shoving it back into the box, your employee staring at you with a raised eyebrow.

“What’s wrong with them?” They asked, watching you lift the box up from the ground, maneuvering behind the counter to set them behind it, pushing the box far under.

“Just...don’t touch them, I’m not putting those on display.” You spoke out nervously, standing up and wiping off the sweat that had begun to accumulate on the palms of your hands, though the gasp of your employee caught your attention as they looked down at their phone.

“Pictures have just surfaced of Hawks chilling around almost butt ass naked in some mystery girl’s apartment.” He spoke out, flipping the phone to your wide eyes. Sure enough, there he was, bowl of cereal within his hands as he sat on your couch in his boxers through the windows of your apartment. “Hell yeah, Hawks got himself a lady friend.” The morning’s cashier joked, but no laughter was going to be heard from you as you were quick to make an excuse to leave the store.

“I don’t care how it’s done! I just need a statement saying that the woman is my fucking girlfriend and that legal actions will be taken because geez, I don’t know, they showed off where she lived to everyone who doesn’t live under a rock in Japan!” He said as he leaned his elbows against the counter top in your kitchen, hand burying itself in his bed hair, fingers tugging and pulling at tangles that would try to trap around his fingers. The front door of the apartment opening caught his attention as he looked to see you standing there rigidly, door quickly closed behind you as you stared at him.

“I don’t know what those people were thinking, they doxxed the shit out of her, yes we are gonna have to move her....yeah..” he spoke into the phone, you finally removing your shoes and calmly seating yourself at the kitchen counter, looking to the feathers on his wings that were still ruffled from sleep. Finally he hung up, phone placed on the counter top, a silence falling between the two of you before he spoke up. “That was quite the scare....you sure you still wanna be with me?” He said jokingly as he rubbed his face, already feeling his insides cringing from the embarrassment that seemingly felt like it was trying to swallow him whole. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh as you shook your head at his words.

“Keigo....lets not ask stupid questions....”

492 notes · View notes

namelesswolffreak · 3 years

Text

"Boyfriends"

I've been working on this story concept for....3-4 years now and I've finally managed to work everything out to the point I'm confident in posting this little blurb of the main characters. So, I hope you enjoy and feel free to ask questions about them and their world.

Context: This takes place in a world of super powered people heavily inspired by MHA / Marvel / Miraculous. Waker (Way-kur) Atlas is Dare City's main hero who is put through quite a lot on a daily to weekly basis trying to beat the baddies and Cyrus Fauthrin is his infamous thief arch nemesis turned lover and best friend who causes trouble around the city just to get the Hero's attention.

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

The melancholy of the day was waning on Waker as he patrolled the quiet streets of one of Dare’s many neighborhoods which was quite unusual considering every seven seconds a villain was after his head. The sun was barely above the clouds, no one was really awake yet and the only thing that accompanied him was his footsteps as he jumped, hopped and skipped to the next platform he summoned under his feet. He happened to be bounding over Lay Wind Park, the foxes fast asleep in their dens to his disappointment, but the Hero Monuments were still a sight to behold in the early sunrise as they shone with brilliance in what little light was filtering over the surrounding hillsides.

The wind blew past his frizzed locks as he stood above the park near a tree in the shade, expression steeled and focused as he watched for signs of trouble as he waited for a certain someone to arrive. Today was uneventful and rather slow, the kind of day Waker preferred if he were being honest. Heaven knew being bored all day was ten times better than returning home to the countless kitchen sink surgeries he’d have to do with worn needles and his mother’s thread pinching into his skin as he sewed up bloodied wounds full of shrapnel and debris. Much better. The birds were chirping a happy, lazy song as they flew by on the breeze and the distant hum of an awakening city filled the natural ambiance of cicadas and crickets quite nicely as he watched and waited. He dare let out a sigh as the scene took hold of him fully, a warmth washing over him that he hadn’t felt in the recent weeks.

Which wouldn’t be for long as the rustling of tree leaves and a “Boo!” have him falling off of his platforms and hurtling towards the ground with an embarrassingly shrill scream.

“Waker!” A concerned voice follows as a blue blur dives after him.

Ground spiraling as he falls, Waker braces for impact, too late to conjure any platforms beneath him to break the fall so, he readies himself, waiting for the hurt and pain that would surely follow with some scrapes and bruises…………...But it never comes. He unscrunches his eyes and removes his arms from his head to see a blue, sparkling light surrounding him.

Irritation and embarrassment take over him immediately.

His face turns a copious amount of red as he’s carefully scooped up in pale arms that hold him close and, humiliatingly enough, in bridal style. Oh god no, he curses mentally, murmuring a soft “No…” into his shield of arms. This was so not how he wanted to show up in front of his partner after their long and grueling few weeks of not being able to see each other outside of villain fights and breaks in between their testing week.

The sudden warmth of a chest presses against his side and the delicate rhythm of a frantic heart race beneath his one hand as the other quickly grabs for his cape to hide his strawberry cheeks. There was no way in hell he was letting ‘he knew who’ see him in such a state, there was no possible way he could let the witch-like thief catch him like this. A brave hero didn’t get scared or spooked by rustling leaves and the word boo! Absolutely absurd! Though a voice in the back of his mind said he already had.

“You are such a fucking clutz, I swear.” And a huge scaredy cat, the blue-clad ravenette doesn’t say aloud, but his tone implies anyways. “I should take you to my ballet classes sometime, maybe then you’d actually learn some balance.” The comment only makes him clutch the soft fabric tighter around himself.

He’s loathing the thought of unveiling himself now, but he knows he’s been caught, his normally stoic or serious persona now broken and practically burned away as he knows his cape isn’t doing much to hide his warm face or the tenseness of his grip. Plans to forever sink himself into a hole where nobody could possibly ever find him again after this mess are shortly abandoned for now and gaining courage Waker swallows the huge lump in his throat and tries to cleverly reply. “H-hey, what’s a-....What’s up, Witch Boy?” And he knows the intended playfulness doesn’t go through as he’s met with a narrowed glare.

The other isn’t amused. “Witch boy, really? Did I actually scare you that badly that you lost a couple of brain cells?”

“Shu-shut up, Cyrus!” He defends as this “Cyrus” just sighs at him, though his stare more sly than pointed now.

“Get out of that stupid thing so I can see your face.” He says with a tremble in his voice that Waker can definitely tell is laughter, the prick. “Or I’ll totally drop you again.” And like hell he will, Waker knows, but he takes the threat seriously nonetheless and loosens his grip on the cape just enough to see the Ravenette’s brilliant and ever playful smile.

For a moment Waker just stares and admires him, those brilliant blues sparkling, no, literally sparkling as he says something Waker doesn’t catch. The sun is framing his face so perfectly in the light, highlighting those perfectly red cheeks he would love to kiss every morning, and the slight upturn of his lips as he smiles down in reverence at him, and the slow flutter of his lashes that compliment his features nicely. Though braided off to the side Cyru’s hair never fails to make him look so ethereal as the gentle morning breeze brushes back his loose strands. Waker swears it looks like its made up of space itself when he lets it go during the night time, convincing himself he can see stars within the strands when he stands beneath the moonlight. It doesn’t take much to make the hero swoon regarding his partner nowadays. Daydreams of peaceful nights alone on the couch watching movies together after his nightmares keep him awake and alert run through his mind, or the times Cyrus has saved him from getting beaten to a pulp and they spent hours talking over stitching him back together about nothing at all, and every single time Cyrus has stuck up for him at school, reminding him of the warmth this person carries with them and all the love and affection he’s constantly showered in when they’re together. It’s strange how much Cyrus has changed over the past few months from raging emo to ride or die friend, but he wouldn’t change it for the world. He doesn’t even try to stop the lofty sigh that escapes his lips as more dear memories cross his mind.

And Cyrus is all too quick to recognize that dumb look on his face.

“Oh, hell no!” Is the only warning he gets before being promptly dropped, this time no blue aura to save him from hitting the dirt below, landing with a thud. “Not this early in the morning!” Though Waker could have sworn Cyrus was sharing the same look with him not minutes prior.

“Ow! Why’d you drop me, asshole!?”

Cyrus cocks his hips as he floats there, his wide brimmed conical now covering his eyes in an intimidating manner, making him way more menacing than he should considering his current attire. “Oh please, don’t even act like you’re hiding that stupid look on your face, Idiot! I ain’t dealing with your whole sappy dappy act this early in the morning.”

By “sappy dappy” Waker knows exactly what he’s referring to and scowls accordingly. Apparently, holding hands and having morning cuddles while complimenting everything about Cyrus is considered sappy and lovingly disgusting. Well at least to some people, it’s called affection and admiration!

“It’s a look that means I like you, asswipe!” Waker shoots back, malice nowhere to be found in his tone though, barring more on playfulness.

“Do you think I’m in love with you or something!?”

And they then stand there -well float there- in silence, both looking each other in the eyes, narrowed brows testing the other to make the next move or say the next snappy comment. And for a moment it looks as if the words really have cut too deep, but Waker isn’t one to remain serious for long as his shoulders begin to shake, prompting the other to clutch his stomach and stifle a grin as their eyes water over with laughter.

“Oh, no, not me, I could never.” Waker quips, leaning back and hugging both his arms, not caring for the dirt now caking his suit. Cyrus is quick to come back with his own natural snark.

“Pfft, as if! Absolutely not. Me and you, the orange haired frizz ball who kicks my ass more than twice a week over that one time I stole a candy bar? You gotta be fucking with me!” He bellows, Waker taking note of the boy flipping upside down where he floats in the air, his face a contortion of joy and happiness as his ripped dress flows with the wind.

He finds the display rather adorable, recalling that such a thing only occurred by accident when the thief was getting emotional. His inept ability to control his powers never failed to amuse the Hero. The little wrinkle of his nose didn’t quiet his thoughtful admiration either as he blushed in between bouts of giggles.

"I wouldn't have time to be your lover anyways!"

“It’s only 6am, when can I admire my boyfriend so it fits within your busy schedule?”

And the laughter is immediately quieted, a heavy silence filling the air, even the crickets and cicadas falling victim to it. The world is waiting in bated breath as if listening to the drama unfold.

Waker holds in a breath. Oh shit, oh fuck, he really fucked it up this time! Way to go, Atlas, you really did a number on today!

…………

………….

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, I just did-”

“It’s ok……” Cyrus breaths out, taking a long drag of air before finally finishing. “It’s….ok.” He manages to lower himself to the ground, dress falling at his sides, and crosses his arms in doing so. “We’re-I’m going to have to get used to it eventually.” He shrugs. “Right?”

There’s a weight to his words as Cyrus steps closer to the redhead that Waker recognizes near immediately. They’ve had this talk before, a talk that has led to a misunderstanding or two between them in the past and a verbal fight at that. The term “Boyfriend.” It was a touchy subject to say the least and while it had been a challenge for even Waker himself to start using it, it also seemed Cyrus was struggling to accept the lofty title. A long time ago before the two even met, the word had a different meaning to it for them both, but Waker had long since come to terms with it himself, but understood Cyrus’ hesitation in saying the word freely. He considered his next words carefully.

“I know you don’t exactly like the ter-”

“It’s not that I don’t like it Waker…..”

“I know, Cy, but.” Failing to put his thoughts into words Waker scrambles forward to catch Cyrus’ hands in his own, pecking each delicately, square on the knuckles, gauging his reaction whilst he does so. When Waker is met with a soft smile, he returns it, though his much softer and kinder in Cyrus’ eyes. “I shouldn’t have said it when you’re not ready. Just because I moved past it doesn’t mean you have.” Noticing his smile slipping he clumsily adds in, “And that’s ok! Really, it’s ok and I mean, and I love you and-uh, I get it and I mean I just say boyfriend because that’s what everyone else says, expects- wait no- I didn’t mean to phrase it like that uh-I don’t really get the need for a title for what we have anyways, like so dumb right!?”

Followed by more ridiculous rambling that has Cyrus covering his mouth trying not to giggle. It’s a nervous habit that has come to amuse the thief to no end. “And-it not like it means anything to us, its just there for other people so they know that um, we, us, you and I are an um item I guess wow that was cheesy and dumb and I am so sorry that you have to put up with me oh god I’m rambling and no, don’t look at me like that. I’m doing the thing again aren’t I-” Shaking with laughter again Cyrus has to put a hand on his shoulder to get him to shut up because he knows if he doesn’t Waker could go on well into the night and has before. It didn’t help that he could feel the tremble of the others fingers, realizing Waker was going to throw himself into an anxiety attack if he didn’t.

“Waker!” And Waker promptly closes his mouth, panic clear in his eyes that Cyrus quickly combats by brushing strands of orange out of his face and behind his ear. “Just take a deep breath.” And Waker does, following the instruction intently. “And let it out, slowly.” And Waker follows that too, looking that much calmer as Cyrus pulls him closer. “Slowly.” He rubs his thumbs over Waker’s hands. The trembling is still present, but less so. “There you go.” And doesn’t stop telling him to breath calmly until he feels Waker’s grip relax in his own.

Delicately and softly, each flyaway is combed back into place only to immediately pop out again, but Waker appreciates the sentiment anyways and Cyrus has no problem being given an excuse to keep combing through such lovely soft tufts. He loves the soft mane of fluff on his partner’s head that even since their first meeting has remained as untamed and wild as ever. -Such a shame he always ties it back when he’s on duty though- It just adds to the contrast between his actual self and hero persona, the sweet and endearing ball of anxiety vs the serious and battle ready hero of Dare city who couldn’t catch a break. And he wouldn’t be ashamed to admit to which one he preferred.

“You don’t need to tell me-er.” Waker quickly corrects, trying not to sound patronizing. “I don’t need you to explain yourself Cy. You-we don’t need to have a name if that’s what you want, that’s what I’m trying to say. Official or unofficial or whatever, I won’t treat you any different.”

“I know Waker. I…..I really want to call you that, just I-.......I just like what we have right now and-”

Waker just pecks him on the cheek quickly and pulls away to pat at a spot on the ground, looking longingly back up at him. A soundless “You don’t want to lose me.” goes unsaid as Cyrus complies, Waker taking the shorter one in his arms once more.

It wasn’t a matter of Cyrus being afraid to commit, though maybe it was, not even he was sure of what was going with himself anymore, but a fear that the wonderful friendship he’d built up with the hero would end or change or just not be the way it is now because they suddenly started calling each other boyfriends. He’s had it happen one too many times at this point, every one of his previous “boyfriends” changing everything once they started dating, acting as if kissing and romantic outings were supposed to be their only interactions from now on. They were no longer interested in the random silly things he found on the internet or just hanging out doing whatever, but were interested in using him, his body, parading him around and rubbing it in peoples faces, being denied having fun if it wasn’t their idea of “fun” and more. Cyrus' stomach curls remembering being ignored for weeks to months at a time because he wasn’t feeling up to being in bed with them or awkwardly sitting off to the side while his one boyfriend at the time showed him off to his friends and bragged. It was the same guy who he used to play videogames and eat cookies with on the weekends, talking about anything and everything…...It hurts him to realise there probably was never a friendship there to begin with. Just an elaborate ruse to get him into bed at some point.

And that was one thing Cyrus feared when they had held hands for the first time after awkwardly admitting to harboring feelings for each other after the high of a fight they were forced to join sides on. Never had the thief felt more relieved that his feelings were reciprocated, but also more scared that he had just ruined the one healthy relationship he managed to make in those many months spent together.

Cyrus removes his hat and huddles under Waker’s chin, placing his head right on his heart that gives out a steady, comforting rhythm and brightens when the taller of the two puts his head on him in return. No, Cyrus thinks, this is different.

A long silence falls between them as they cuddle in each other's arms, just watching the sun come up. Basking in each other’s presence, taking in the warmth of their bodies pressed together in this nice early morning, and relishing in the calm which was far and few in between with their double lives and they were thankful. There’s no need to exchange words now as a quiet understanding befalls them both.

It’s only after the sun seems to peak at the crest of the hillsides does Waker make himself heard again.

“Is that why you dropped me?” And Cyrus blinks for a quick second, processing the question before understanding and then playfulness cross his expression.

“No it’s because you’re a dunce.” He huffs. “And fucking heavy as hell.”

Waker chooses to ignore that last bit. “But I’m your dunce.” He boops his nose.

“Damn, straight you are.” And Cyrus retaliates with a kiss on his.

Boyfriend or just “friend who I like to kiss and hold hands with sometimes”, Waker loves him and Cyrus doesn’t doubt that for a second.

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