#i just never know what to say or whats safe to brainrot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vampcubus · 1 year

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𝐊𝐍𝐘 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐂𝐒

a/n: i had to… I HAD TO THE BRAINROT TOOK HOLD OF ME. still getting used to writing for these boys so bear with me.

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 : inosuke, zenitsu, tanjiro, kyojuro, and tengen (feat. tengen’s wives)

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : light nsfw, spicy in places.

𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐀

— HE GETS IT!! literally the best person for the job. you will not be disappointed because that’s his love language too!!

— The moment you suggest wanting to play fight he is tackling you to the ground full force because he was waiting for you to say that!!

— He loves it!! The cute aggression he gets around you can finally be satiated. He’s on cloud nine rolling around with you, trying his damnedest to get you in a headlock just to feel you kick your feet in protest.

— You’ll have to remind him to ease his grip and the strength he uses to toss you around, but he’s a pretty quick study!

— You’ll really have to try to be able to pin him however, he’s as flexible as he is strong and determined to flip you on your back and proclaim his “inevitable victory” you can imagine his surprise (and heart eyes) when you’re craftier than he anticipated and manage to not only keep up with this enthusiasm but BEAT HIM.

— Soon as that happens though he’s less interested in fighting and more interested in wrenching his mask off so he can crush his lips to yours.

— You will never be safe after that first time you roughhouse with him, any time he gets that giddy feeling in his chest around you he just pounces. It is kind of your fault for conditioning him to express his affection that way.

— You may want to explain it to your friends however because Tanjiro is BEYOND confused. You two were having a profound moment why are you wrestling??? 😭 Zenitsu is having a freakout, trying to pry the boar man off you whilst screaming “YOU ANIMAL, WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO Y/N-CHAN!?” (though once zen’s been briefed he is immensely jealous)

— Inosuke gets suspicious if you aren’t fighting back with your usual enthusiasm. Are you sick? mad at him? injured? He’ll get restless if you haven’t been in the mood for it lately because what do you mean you don’t want to wrestle??? >:(( don’t u love him???

— Inosuke doesn’t want to actually hurt you, of course, he knows the difference between a cry of delight and one of pain. If you make a sound implying the latter he’ll stop and check-in.

𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐀

— I’ll be honest he doesn’t really understand it 😭 you’re supposed to be madly in love why do you want to fight? most of your attempts will be one-sided, the most fight you’ll get out of him is playful swatting.

— He’s also easily distracted by physical contact, so the moment you straddle his hips in an attempt to get the upper hand (which you’ll most likely already have, he really doesn’t have the heart to put it up much of a struggle) he’s melting into a puddle, hands coming to your thighs to drum absentmindedly on them—which in turn distracts you. It’s so hard to get mad at him for it too when he peers up at you with that lovestruck puppy look through thick blond lashes.

— Zenitsu definitely prefers a more “aggressive cuddling” approach than actual roughhousing, like tackling the other to the ground for some spirited nuzzling. And maybe some light-hearted games of footsie or lazily shoving at one another’s hands to see who’s stronger.

— Doesn’t help that he’s incredibly horny all the time and pinning him down just makes him feel hot, so now you’ve got that to deal with.

— Zenitsu loves to play up the drama of it, the back of his hand pressed wistfully to his forehead as if he’s feeling faint as he performatively exclaims “Oh, be gentle with me, Y/n-chan~!“

— That usually gets you to back off with a huff of annoyance and heat in your cheeks, knowing he’d formulated the perfect foil to your cute aggression. The best way to fend you off was to make it weird.

— Putting him in a headlock just means he has an excuse to nuzzle his face against your chest, jostle him too hard and you’ll just make him cry.

— Deep down he thinks it’s a bit endearing, it’s just a love language you don’t share and that’s ok. He’ll let you rough him up, just don’t expect the same treatment.

— To that end, you’re better off taking out your aggression on demons </3

𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐎

— You’ll have to explain it to him for him to wrap his head around it, but he’s pretty open to it! He grew up with many siblings and they liked to playfully wrestle with him sometimes, he just never imagined doing something like that with you! Especially since he’s such a gentle soul and can’t imagine wanting to hurt you in any way.

— He really tries to match your enthusiasm, but all of his playful shoves and swats always end up softer than necessary.

— Checks in constantly! “That wasn’t too rough was it?” “That didn’t hurt right?” “Ah, did I get carried away? 🥺” like bb calm down you’re doing great.

— Once he’s used to your habits he can’t help but anticipate your next sneak attack, biting his lip to conceal a smile when he notices you ready to pounce from the corner of his eye. You may think you’ve caught him unawares but he often can smell or hear your approach, but he loves to pretend anyways, just to see that triumphant grin on your face when you jump onto his back.

— Oftentimes your playful wrestling is interspersed with gentle touches. You just look so cute when you’re determined and he can’t help but caress your face in the moment <3 (he’s so soft pls i’d be crying)

— Nezuko watches the two of you play a lot and you can tell she wants to join in so sometimes you tag her in to fight at your side!!! Tanjiro is laughing so hard he can hardly breathe, overwhelmed with joy as the two most important people in his life put him through his paces.

— While he definitely prefers to express his affection in softer ways, he learns to love roughhousing with you. He knows that you only do it because you want to be close and because you trust him, and he’s content with that.

𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔

— When you first express your desire to play fight all you’ll get is a puzzled tilt of his head in return. He’ll genuinely ask you why, and when instead of explaining you get flustered he is suddenly very intrigued.

“I must confess I do enjoy that expression on your face, little flame!” (If you know you know) he all but announces to half the compound, which has your entire face boiling with embarrassment. Seeing his comment has only extended your distress, his eyes soften fondly. “Take your time.”

The best answer your monkey brain can conjure is “because I love you!” blurted out in a hurry, startling a few nearby birds into flight. No one’s quite as startled as Kyojuro however, whose face is now equally ablaze at your confession.

“And I want to be close to you,” you added, fighting through the early relationship jitters to get your point across. The best way to a healthy relationship is through communication, right? After all, Kyojuro had no right to be so damned cute all the time. It made you want to wrestle him into an embrace every time he said something unintentionally endearing—which was often!

“I think I understand!”

— Honestly, he’s a natural at it. He knows his own strength and how much he can use when tussling with you without causing any real harm. Even if you really wouldn’t mind a few token bruises to remember those silly moments by.

— He’s a little nervous at first, he did grow up with a brother but Senjuro had always been gentle in his affections towards him. Though as soon as he sees just how much fun you’re having he’s absolutely on board! Enamored when you can’t help but giggle as you’re rolling out of reach, lunging for his sides, and jumping onto his back in an attempt to bring him to the ground.

— Most of the time between efforts of fending off your playful shoving he’s nuzzling against you, trailing kisses wherever he can reach. Laughing heartily along with you as he all too easily weakens you by attacking your sides with incessant tickling until you’re wheezing so hard you can hardly breathe.

— He rarely initiates roughhousing, but he will never deny you. It’s a great way to lift his spirits when he’s feeling down. It’s a rare occurrence, but he appreciates those small gestures the most. Close proximity and your beautiful laugh? What more could he want?

— He now knows your desire to roughhouse is a sign of affection, so he cherishes being able to let loose and play with you. Though most of the time neither of you is concerned about winning. Your playfights all too easily turn into spirited cuddling. (He’s just so loving and I- *sobs*)

— Until you decide to test some newfound strength and surprise him by flipping him flat on his back with his hands pinned to the ground. Now… now it’s different, a different kind of longing in those bright golden eyes you’ve grown to adore. One of blatant heat and desire. He always desires you but especially so when you assert yourself.

— Does this lead to you desperately rutting against one another and tearing at your clothing? Couldn’t say. (Absolutely)

𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐙𝐔𝐈

— He thinks it’s adorable that you want to roughhouse with him and will actually encourage you to try! He’s so disrespectful about it though 😭 can hold your attacks at bay with a single hand over your face. Likes to egg you on until you really want to smack him and then acts surprised when you slip out of his grip and head butt his chest full force.

“Why you little…”

— Now the game is on! Prepare to roll around struggling for the upper hand until he feels he’s put you in your place! Instead of being discouraged by your loss, you’re more determined to win the next round.

— His instincts are razor sharp so don’t think you’ll ever truly get the jump on him with a sneak attack, even when he looks to be none the wiser. He always knows you’re there and foils your plans at the last second :(((

— You can usually get Suma and Makio in on the action and get him rumbling with laughter as you all wrestle in a pile.

— Hinatsuru prefers to watch with a soft expression as her lovers fight and then crawl into the cuddle pile that follows as the four of you are gasping for breath. Suma always claims a place at your side afterward so she can whisper new schemes into your ear <3 she’s your partner in crime.

— Tengen could likely fend the four of you off all at once if you ever did convince Hina to join, but he loves the triumphant cheers you make when he admits defeat.

— Now if you just so happen to have even greater strength than him? He’s shutting up so fast cus please toss him around and rough him up a bit, I’m telling you he gets off on that shit—especially if you’re being “flashy” about it. Probably goes without saying that your roughhousing often turns into something else.

#‧₊🦇˚⊹ ashi writes #inosuke hashibira x reader #inosuke x reader #zenitsu agatsuma x reader #zenitsu x reader #tanjirou kamado x reader #tanjiro kamado x reader #tanjiro x reader #tanjirou x reader #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyoujurou rengoku x reader #rengoku x reader #tengen uzui x reader #tengen x reader #tengen x wives x reader #kny headcanons #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer headcanons

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silkscream · 6 months

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HEAVEN SURROUNDS US

ੈ✩ summary: gojo likes that you make him feel human. admittedly, he also likes that sometimes, you make him feel like a god. ੈ✩ warnings: smut (18+), fingering, unprotected sex, slight dacryphilia, begging, soft dom!gojo, kind of mean gojo lol, workplace relations, reader can see curses but that's it, gojo has a god complex, dirty talk, not proofread bc i do not give a fuck ੈ✩ wc: 3.1k ੈ✩ a/n: i am having intense gojo brainrot. i was thinking about 'i'm your man' by mitski the entire time i was writing this btw. ALSO I LITERALLY HAD A GRAPHIC AND DIVIDERS FOR THIS BUT EVERY TIME I INCLUDE THEM this shit doesn't show up in the tags. i've given up!

Gojo Satoru has the smell of death burned into his senses to the point of complete apathy. He’s sure that Shoko feels similarly, though as a healer and a doctor, she’s often only met with the aftermath – the quiet decaying, the dried blood.

Gojo has encountered it all. The stench, the last pleas for salvation, the battered and torn-apart limbs. Even when the dying beings are cursed spirits suffering from the carnage created beneath Gojo’s hands, sometimes he wonders if an angel is nearby that weeps for them.

He has held grief inside his core to use as a weapon ever since he lost Geto. Nothing fazes him anymore. After the tragedies of his late teens, Gojo chooses to devote himself to his students rather than ruminating in sanctimonious thought loops. Gojo Satoru knows he isn’t a god, but sometimes, when he levitates in the sky with blood on his hands, he certainly feels like one. It’s safe to say that he may be the closest thing to one in the world of Jujutsu sorcery. It’s nothing that he despises – he’s known since his powers took shape in the awkwardness of his child-body.

Gojo likes to think he isn’t as cruel and indifferent as a god should be because of how protective he is. The warmth he’s had in his heart for Megumi alone confirms this as such, and now for Yuuji. Despite toying with the idea of divinity, he likes to remember that he’s human.

You are the only thing that reminds him of this.

Ever since Gojo had laid his eyes on you, he figured you were a delicate thing. He’s not completely wrong – although you can see curses, you lack any techniques. After becoming an assistant at Jujutsu Tech, he had taken more than a liking to you, more than he would be willing to admit to anyone else. He also never thought that the girl who was so quick to sardonic banter with him would be so vulnerable.

When you’re underneath him, maybe he does consider himself a god, just for a second. And then he feels the silky touch of your skin and he can’t help but wish for a life of mundanity with you until the earth stops spinning.

He likes that he can feel how fast your heart is beating. He likes that you become so pliant just from having his hand on your thigh.

It’s not like he exploits the little affair you have. It’s not that he wants to exploit you either, but the power trip that surges through him when you preen to his touch feels better than winning any battle. It’s those big eyes of yours. It’s a miracle you had reciprocated your attraction to him – he doesn’t know what he’d do to any other man who happened to pursue you. The thought of that kind of violence doesn’t make him feel any guilt. He’d do it in a heartbeat if it meant that he could have you forever, unconditionally.

Within the few months you’ve been working at Jujutsu Tech, you learn a few things about Gojo Satoru. He has an incredible sweet tooth. He cares about his students. He likes the feeling of your fingers combing through his hair. Lives for it, even, but he could never tell you that.

That’s how you ended up here, you suppose. Writhing and wet and oh so obedient for him.

You like that a man that is worshipped by all enjoys worshipping you.

“Satoru,” you whisper. The sound of your voice makes him fucking melt.

God, it’s so much worse when you beg. Satoru wants to be gentle with you, careful, because he knows that if all of his morals were thrown out the window, he would devour you completely, leaving bruises in your wake. But he waits, titillatingly, smirking as his long fingers grasp the flesh above your hips.

“Please,” you whine. Your lower half bucks up into him, squirming just a little, but he grounds you with his large hands once again.

Satoru knows better than to toy with his prey, but the flush on your cheeks is so fucking cute that he wonders what you would look like with tears rolling down the soft blush of your skin.

“Be patient, baby,” he rasps. “Just like lookin’ at you.”

“You look at me all day.”

“Someone’s got quite the attitude.”

You’re about to protest until you feel his knuckle brush against the peak of your clit, teasingly. A nasty grin spreads across his face as he grazes his fingertips along your slit, marveling at how wet you are when he’d barely touched you.

“So pretty for me,” he muses, mostly to himself.

“Should see how pretty I am when you’re inside me.”

Satoru scoffs. Despite being so human, you have quite the mouth, so much confidence in the way you move and speak that he often forgets how easy it would be to lose you. To break you. Though, of course, that privilege is for him and him only.

He kisses you to shut you up, but not nearly for long enough. You can’t even get your tongue inside his mouth. You whine pitifully as he pulls back.

“Poor baby,” he coos. “So on edge today. What’s got you so desperate like this, huh?”

“Just want you,” your voice is meek, which is an anomaly. The honey-sweet cadence of your words is barely above a whisper.

“You have me.” Unbeknownst to you, you always will, whether you tire of him or not.

He makes his point by circling the pad of his thumb to your clit while his other hand claws at your chest underneath your dress shirt. The sound of your gasp has him reeling already, has his cock rock-hard in his slacks.

“More,” you whimper. “S-Satoru, please.”

You’re surprised when you feel the palm of his hand over your mouth. You whine against his hand, soft gasps dissipating underneath his touch as your eyes roll back. You feel two fingers enter your sopping cunt and it renders you brainless, docile just how he likes you.

The rhythmic ministrations of his fingers touch upon the spot inside your core that makes your legs shake. You like being smothered by him despite your personality. You don’t even have to tell him – he knows already, he’s known ever since he noticed your reactions to him touching you casually during the working day.

The more you crave his touch, the more you become dependent on him, even when you don’t realize it. You always pride yourself on being an independent soul, refusing his insistence to pay for your meals, the way you express to him quietly that you want to be able to fight back one day. You could perfect a certain violence in between your fingers just like he can if you put your mind to it. But you have too much dignity to request his guidance as a mentor or teacher.

He thinks about it now as he touches you. The idea of him training you to use cursed techniques. The idea of him making you in his image, shaping you like he had created you himself.

If anyone truly knew the extent of how you are the object of Satoru’s affection, of his obsession, one would render him pathetic. But he knows he’s too powerful. He knows it’s easy to make you seem like the pathetic one. You’re already begging for his cock, after all.

“I‘m gonna… I’m–”

There’s a squelching sound when he retracts. His fingers are wet with your slick and you’re on the verge of tears when you feel the loss. You’re already falling apart without his touch. It doesn’t help when you watch him lick your wetness off of his own fingers.

“Why are you being so mean to me today?”

“‘m not,” Satoru purrs, licking a stripe from your collarbone to your earlobe. You try to kiss him since his face is so close to yours, but again, he restricts you. His long, slender fingers squeeze the base of your neck. “I could be a lot meaner to you, y’know. You’re lucky. This is mild compared to what I’ve thought about doing to you.”

“Wanna cum,” you whisper. You don’t even realize that there are tears falling because you’re too focused on Satoru. It isn’t fair, the way he’s toying with you. The moment he relinquishes his grip, just barely, you reach over to palm his cheek. He lets you pull the blindfold from his eyes.

“Dunno if I can let you. You’re being so greedy. Such a selfish fucking girl.” He pinches your nipple as he says it. His voice is smooth, dripping like honey, dulcet in the way his words manage to make your eyelashes flutter despite how filthy the subject matter is. He’d ruin you if he could. Perhaps, he’d ruined you the moment he touched you.

He’s touching your clit again, but not rhythmically. You feel a sense of loss every few seconds. He’s fucking teasing you now, but you’re smart enough to not snap at him despite how much you want to.

So you say his name instead. Like a hymn or a prayer. Like it’s the sweetest thing to come from your tongue. From the way your voice sounds, Satoru is convinced that his own name is a blessing just because it comes from your lips. He can’t get enough of it.

You make Satoru feel human, but the way you react to him at the moment makes him want to pretend he’s a god.

“S-Sat–Satoru. Oh.”

“You cryin’ already, baby? Thought you liked it when I played with you.”

His voice is low, raspy. Almost cruel.

Your brain is so foggy that it feels like he’s been doing this to you for hours. You can’t even form words, can’t bitch to him or dominate him the way you often attempt to. There’s a secret part of you, deep inside, that is unlocked by the way Satoru handles you. As much as he loves control, he still doesn’t know the extent of what you would let him do to you. How you wished he’d wrap a silk ribbon around your neck and collar you like a puppy. How you think you would do anything for him if he asked.

You don’t even know that he would do the exact same for you.

Now, you’re at your peak again. Your legs are wobbly, senses so heightened by the way he plays with your pussy that it takes you a few moments to notice that his cock is prodding against you, bare and pink and fucking leaking.

Maybe if you tell him you’re close, he’ll stop. You can’t stand the thought of it. So, naturally, you cry instead, and the sight makes him want to keep you for as long as he’s alive. Satoru would make sure nothing slights you, and that nothing out of his control could possibly vex you. This desire usually scares him. At the moment, it doesn’t. At the moment, he feels drunk with it.

He knows when you cum because he has you memorized. It’s a little death, truly, because when your legs tremble and your moans fade into a sharp gasp, Satoru knows for sure that your brain has turned to mush. Your body melts against his. Maybe you’d melt right into his mattress if he didn’t have more energy to play with you.

Gojo Satoru does not believe in a higher power, but he thinks that if one existed, one that was more powerful than him, he would thank them. He would thank them for you, the creation of you, the very essence of you living and breathing in the same wretched world as him. He thinks that maybe, just maybe, you were made just for him.

You recover in a succession of exhales. Blinking rapidly through blurry vision as you feel Satoru’s face nuzzling your neck, almost too domestic and sweet to bear. You had never thought of anything serious with him because of his reputation, but every time he has you like this, underneath him, you often wish that he would reassure you that he wants to keep you.

And he does. He is devoted to you in a way that feels holy. He just doesn’t know how to tell you that. Satoru hopes you can figure it out just from the way he touches you.

And maybe, like him, you’re just above human. An angel, he thinks. A set of wings would suit you.

“I– I– please–” you strain. You feel embarrassed from the tears, but Satoru cherishes you. He kisses and licks them right off your face.

“I know, baby. I won’t make you beg any more than you have,” he sneers.

You’re fucking doe-eyed, angelic when he enters you. Just the tip, for now, just so he can see how you react. It isn’t the first time but you are certainly acting the part from the way your whole face screws up. Your perfect mouth parts and he touches your bottom lip with his thumb.

You whimper like a wounded thing. Like you should be begging for mercy. He hasn’t dipped too far into his God-complex yet to coax that reaction for you.

And without a warning, he pushes himself into you completely, bottoming out. He groans at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. So warm. So fucking wet.

“Fucked you enough to mold the shape of your pussy to my cock, huh? Feels so fucking– fuck,” he exhales, rutting into you with eyes shut.

You whine his name, clutching at him, scraping your nails across his pale back. He loves the way you need him. He wouldn’t trade the feeling for anything else in the world.

Made for me. God made you for me.

You slur your words against his neck and his chest as he thrusts into you – cries of his name, of begging for more, of your usual expletives. He grins like a predator. He bends you in half and thinks briefly about breaking your limbs for the sake of his pleasure. (He doesn’t. You’re too delicate, too human.)

In reality, you’re sarcastic and sometimes brash. When Satoru has you writhing underneath him, you’re a little more shy. He wants to tease the desire from you, whatever filth that permeates in your brain.

“Tell me what you want.”

“Want– I want– aah!”

“Feels so good for you, I know. Use your words for me. I know you can,” Satoru taunts.

“Want you to make me cum on your cock. Please,” you beg. “Need it deeper, ‘Toru. Need you.”

“Need me, don’t you? Say it again so I can hear it.”

“Nngh– Need– Fuck, I can’t–”

He slows the speed of his thrusts and rubs the length of your jaw softly with his palm. His other hand rubs your clit gently, making your body spasm. He tucks the hair sticking to your forehead behind your ear so he can see all of you. You and your swollen mouth and glassy eyes.

“Don’t do that,” you whine.

“Do what, baby?”

“Teasing me like this. Wan’ it rough.”

“What else?” he breathes into your neck, palming your breast as he thrusts into you deeper.

“Want everything. Want it to hurt.”

And with that, he gives it to you. He gives you all of it.

You drape your arms around his body so that you’re closer than ever, both of your bodies ready to mesh into one if they could. Satoru pushes your legs up, knees bent and ankles near your ears, and he basks in the sound of your pathetic mewls.

“Such a good… fucking girl,” he groans. “‘m so close.”

“Me too,” you reply in a hushed tone. “Right– right there.”

Satoru has fucked you plenty of times. He’s called you a slut, a greedy whore – but he can’t bring himself to degrade you like that even though he knows you like it. You’re splayed out for him, limbs limp and grateful for his embrace. You’re too fucking precious for him.

You’re too dazed to think about the moral implications of your affair. It's a miracle you can't enter his mind so deeply when you're fucked out like this. Where his thoughts flash from lecherous to monstrous, yours are rendered sluggish. There’s almost nothing in your brain, save for him and his blue eyes and the feeling of his cock. It consumes the best of you. You welcome it with open arms.

Another kiss. It’s mostly Satoru working his tongue into your mouth and you dissolving under his tongue. He tastes so sweet, so fresh all the time. His lips are so fucking soft it drives you insane.

“Pleasemakemecum,” you cry out in a jagged mumble. “Please. Need it so bad. Please!”

He groans in response. You’re begging more than usual. You are frantic and desperate and welcoming his hand to shape you in his image.

The way he grinds into your cunt becomes more aggressive, which is easy for him. There’s no resistance – your pussy is so fucking wet for him in that way. The cloying heat in his pelvis spreads to the rest of his body, warmth enveloping him like hot water in a bath.

You whine his name again and it dissipates into his mouth.

“Cum with me, fuck, I can feel you–” he moans. Both of you reach your peak in the way he grasps your body, calloused hands worshipping the length of your waist until his fingertips bruise your thighs.

His hips stutter as he indulges in his pleasure. In the sound of your hushed whimpers. In the way your nails claw across his back.

Both of your labored breaths fill the silence. Even in the dark, you admire the brightness of his blue eyes. They could replace the divinity of the stars themselves, you muse.

Both of you are hazy, intoxicated on the touch of each others’ skin. You shiver in your skin. You’re only soothed when he buries his face into your neck, long limbs splayed over your smaller frame.

“I should fuckin’ marry you,” he breathes into your skin.

“What was that?” you raise a brow.

He clears his throat. Despite the daze, he’s able to give you one of his signature cocky grins. Something flashes in his blue eyes, you think.

“I think I wanna keep you.”

If he was god, you were his seraphim, he’s decided. He almost tells this to you, out loud, because your big eyes drink him in. He knows better.

“You have me,” you reply softly, echoing him from earlier in the night. The way he smiles reminds you of the sun.

Gojo Satoru knows it’s an affirmation from you, maybe even pillow talk. But he knows that sentiment to be truer than anything he’s ever known. He is yours and you are his.

For now, you don’t know the half of it. Maybe someday you will.

#gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk smut #jjk

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cherrieflavouredheadcanons · 2 months

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hi luv! i hope you're doing great. Saw your recent post and i do have a hc request (since im having a haikyuu brainrot rn 👀), what would you think of making papa!haikyuu hcs 😩. How would these volley boys make as a father! (especially kenma, tsukki and noya) and you can add your favs too 💕sjsjjsjs hope you have a great day ahead!

I'm doing okay, I hope you are doing good and that you have a nice day! I hope you enjoy this post and it is to your liking

Them as fathers

Characters: Kenma, Noya, Tsukki Gender neutral reader, it is not mentioned whether the children are adopted or biological, Kenma’s is longer than the others because i had way too many ideas for him

Kenma Kozume

First things first: I don’t think Kenma would have more than one kid, if you really wanted to have more he would relent but he is perfectly happy with just one, he thinks 3 people is the perfect number for your little family.

You may think he wouldn’t be that involved in his kids life, but that is a big misconception,

No matter how much work he has to do he makes sure to spend time with you and your kid.

Kenma would never show his child on the internet in any way, he wants to keep his private life private and keep his child safe, he knows how cruel the internet can be, no way in hell will he put his young child into that kind of situation.

Once your child learned to crawl he brought the three starters of Pokémon black and white (gen 5 best games I don’t take criticism) to see which one your child would choose.

Based on what they chose he will be sulky or proud. (I nearly made this into Oshawott propaganda but I didn’t you’re welcome). But at the end of the day he knows that they just choose one based on colours and shapes, he would teach them once they are older how to perfectly choose a starter.

Best believe that as soon as your kid is old enough to understand things he will show them all kinds of (age appropriate) video games.

You enter his gaming room with some snacks for him and you can just see him play Slime Rancher as your kid sits in his lap, eyes glued to what their father is doing.

He already has started a Stardew Valley coop farm for you three to play together one day, he is just waiting for the day your child is old enough.

Now enough video game talk, (though I have so many more ideas about this lol) your child loves it when Kenma reads to them before they sleep, his voice is very soothing to them.

Once they are asleep Kenma stays at their side a bit longer, watching them sleep a serene smile on his face.

Kenma can’t say no to your kid, he will buy them anything they want. You sometimes wonder how he can be so responsible with his money in any other situation, but your child just needs to point at something and he will buy it for them unless you intervene.

Lastly, be prepared for Kenma and your kid to team up against you. Board games? Yeah they are a team even if the game isn’t a game for teaming up. (Monopoly is a nightmare with them, Oh you need a red? Too bad your kid and Kenma are trading it between one another instead of giving it to you) But you can’t really seem to mind when you see the way Kenma and your kid smile. (Unless you are like me and are fiercely competitive in games then you may want to strike Kenma down)

Yu Nishinoya

Noya would take longer to have children with you, at least until he is done travelling, he does want kids but is aware that travelling the world with them wouldn’t be ideal, he wants them to have a stable home.

Once you two do have kids, he wants at least 2 or 3. Noya wants a big family.

I feel like he is the type of Dad that throws his kids in the air and then catches them (he won’t do it high) and it always gives you a heart attack.

Instead of reading them good night stories he always tells them (embellished) stories from when he travelled the world, for example he once exclaimed to one of your kids how a mermaid vied for your attention but he fought them heroically off.

This does bite him in the ass years down the line once your kids are teens, they will bring these stories up whenever they can to tease him.

Asahi is basically an uncle to your kids, he often visits you and brings the kids many gifts. He loves to spoil them.

And yes Asahi designs the clothes for your kids as well, it often leads to many people asking you and Noya where you got the clothes for them from since they are such a high quality.

Yes, he will teach your kids “Rolling thunder”. No you can’t stop him. Even if your kids don’t play Volleyball they will still know the move.

This leads to your kids looking for his old jersey’s from highschool, putting them on and pretending to be their dad. No he is not crying, he just got dust in his eye.

Vacations and holidays are important to Noya, while he can’t travel the world with your kids, he will take them on memorable vacations across the country when they are old enough to remember them.

He wants them to have a happy and fulfilled childhood with as many experiences as they can have.

Kei Tsukishima

When you first brought up having children with him he asked “Are you sure you can take care of a child? Don’t you wanna practise with a pet rock first?” You lightly punched him in the chest for that and he had his signature smirk on his face.

He is honestly neutral on the aspect of having kids, he is not against it but also it was never his dream of having them, so he is fine with whatever you want.

Just like Kenma he would probably only have one kid, with his Job as a Volleyballplayer and everything he isn’t home that often, so if you had more than one kid he would feel guilty leaving you home alone with them.

Tsukki is probably the first one from Karasuno to have a kid, so he is smug about the fact that he is ‘better’ than the others in that regard.

The first team reunion after you two had your child will have him holding his child proudly, while he tells all the others how slow they are for not having kids yet, which has everyone rolling their eyes. He is very proud of his kid so that he will hold it up Lion King style so everyone can admire it.

Unluckily though he miscalculated the height of the ceiling and bonked your kids head on it, which left everyone in the room in a stunned silence (True story from my infant days, my dad did this exact thing with me)

You had made him change every diaper for 2 weeks for the heart attack he gave you with that, even if your kid was fine and wasn’t hurt.

Tsukki and you switch every night who is going to read your kid, while you pick different topics every time, he only ever chooses dinosaur stories to read to your kid.

Speaking of dinosaurs, Tsukki once claimed he had to educate your kid on certain things while you went out grocery shopping, when you came back you saw that the thing he was educating your child on was “The land before time” which made you smile.

Now no matter if the child is biologically yours or adopted, it somehow interhits his sass, which means you will be surrounded by two sassy little pieces of shit (affectionate).

Though you get both of them to calm down their sass by offering them some strawberry cake if they stop, it surprisingly works better on Tsukki then on your kid, who would have thought?

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fairyofshampgyu · 9 months

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Been in a dom gyu brainrot lately I HAVE BETRAYED MY ROOTS IK IM A DISGRACE 😟😪 IT WONT LEAVE MY MINDHSJ ITS PAINFUL BUT ANYWAY SHORT DISCOMBOBULATED DRABBLE

Thinking about high sex w stoner boy beomgyu with piercings ! whose always known to get into some kind of trouble all the time, always mischievous and teasing and your friends saying he’s bad a influence on you and you shouldn’t hang out with him that much but you still do and don’t listen to them, always dismissing and saying you have absolutely NO feelings whatsoever and that it is PURELY platonic despite harbouring the most intense feelings for this guy sigh…😟 but you know he’s only trouble and probably doesn’t like you that way so you just kinda ignore it.

But one day you find yourself in a random quiet empty bedroom at a college party with him, sitting on the bed together as he smokes a joint and you both talk and laugh about random shit away from the mess of a party going on.

Beomgyu nonchalantly offers you his joint and you, slightly timid stumble and admit you’ve never tried it. Beomgyu only grinning at you, eyes lighting up at that and insisting that you should at least try, saying he really wants to get high w you and that it would be so fun with you, saying that he’d make you feel safe, it’d just be the both of you you trust him right? You’re good friends after all 🤷‍♀️.

And so you awkwardly take the joint, doing what he tells you to do, a bit nervous and embarrassed and still confused despite the simple introductions. Beomgyu chuckling at you and coming closer to you as he decides to just hold the joint for you instead and places it to your mouth, guiding you in and it feels way too intimate with the way he’s looking at you as well.

It doesn’t take long before the weed starts to kick in, both of you taking long drags and passing the joint round and you guys getting extremely high off your asses, anything and everything becoming funny.

“Heyyyy, heyy gyu. What’s shotgunning? I’ve heard it before idk what is is thoughh. What is it?” it’s a genuine curious question your stoned self asks and beomgyu’s eyes widen for a split second before he’s smirking widely and raising a brow at you.

“Could show you if you want~” And you nod your head rapidly, stoned self just so curious and innocent, it’s hard for beomgyu to contain himself.

He cups your cheek and comes even closer to your face, lips very lightly grazing at yours but enough that you can feel his snake bite lips rings faintly on you as he smugly puffs the smoke into your mouth, his eyes not leaving yours as he grins, hand still softly on your cheek, your mouth hanging open as you gasp loudly, not believing what’s even happening rn.

“Come on now it’s only fair you do it to me too right?” Beomgyu sits back, and stares at you, ego a bit too high rn as you hesitantly shuffle closer to him, feeling your face drastically heat up and you take a drag nervously, slowly inching towards him before beomgyu’s impatient self sighs and pulls you into his lap so sudden and harsh you yelp.

You take turns shotgunning, lips faintly touching but never enough, your brain and the room clouded over with curls of heavy smoke and weed as you breathe heavily and your face is still so heated up, eyes half lidded. Beomgyu finally pulling away and stopping, softly giggling and asking if you get it now.

Your baked ass then touching his lips, running your fingers over his lip piercings, eyes crazed and babbling about how hot you’ve always found his snake bites hot and beomgyu chuckling at that, both of you staring into each others eyes and looking down at your lips that he finds himself smashing his lips with yours, making out intensely but sloppily for what feels like hours, beomgyu hovering on top of you as his rough kisses start to trail elsewhere and you can’t help whimpering his name as he sucks hickeys and goes even further to your collarbone and his hands roaming practically everywhere, him still teasing you until you’re pleading that you need him so bad and right now.

Not even a breath later and he’s fucking into you with frantic urgency, not bothering to take either of your clothes off, settling for quickly pushing his baggy ripped jeans slightly down and pulling your panties to the side, lifting your shirt up so he can see your tits jiggling as he practically pounds into you erratically, hips smacking with yours as he moans even louder than you the entire time, rubbing his thumb over your clit, still making out with you and smelling the strong scent of weed from each other, still so dazed and both your minds fogged even more sensitive because of the drugs, everything feeling 10x stronger as he desperately tries to make you cum on his cock and it’s not long before he’s coating you too and fucking the cum back into you, fucking whilst stoned so messy

Then you wake up the next day, trying to remember what even happened, freaking the shit out and ready to run away any second, nearly leaping out the bed but beomgyu only pulls you in closer, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist so you can’t escape, sleepy and stupid grin on his face, mumbling about how he hopes you don’t regret it and that he definitely doesn’t

“Hmm~let’s skip classes today and cuddlee. You’re so comfy.”

“You’re always skipping classes, choi beomgyu.”

“So what?! You still like me hehe”

“When did I ever say I liked you?!”

“As if I wouldn’t notice. You’ve been giving me heart eyes for ages. It was cute loll. You were so bad at hiding it~”

#I literally don’t even know what this is #ITS LATE AND ITS ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT I CANT SLEEP #HELP ME IT MAKES NO SENSE #beomgyu smut #txt smut #txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #beomgyu hard thoughts #beomgyu hard hours #can you tell this is like the first time I’ve ever written sub reader 😟

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ixiot-ghostrebel · 6 months

Note

HI saw your requests were open for sagau so i thought i'd drop on by

can i request creator reader with favourites, specifically alhaitham and diluc but you can add more if you'd like! just generally how the character would react to being favourited by the creator and how the creator treats them pls <33

have a good day and no stress if you don't like the idea, just a lil brain rot i've been having recently

lei <3

Hello, Lei Anon! I'll gladly do this request! It's been a while since I've done something like this too lol—I'm doing great as of right now. I hope you're having a good day as well :) I hope you like what I got!

Alhaitham & Diluc Getting Favoritism Privileges ✨

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

Diluc

When he heard rumors that he was being favored by the Almighty Creator, he denied it at first. It was just the drunkards in his tavern just talking and rambling. There wasn't anything that could be used as solid proof to back up their drunk claims.

If it wasn't for the fact that you strolled on in, saying, "Diluc, my favorite Main!" he probably would never have believed it.

With your attention consistently on him, Diluc is often praised for gaining Mondstadt the true blessing of the Almighty Creator. Diluc is constantly being given gifts that you find, bought, or crafted—be it a chair made of the finest wood, a fresh bouquet of freshly picked asters and cecilias, or a fresh pair set of clothes with the best quality of silk! Or, whenever you think your gifts aren't enough—mora.

"Your Grace...there is no need for any of this." Diluc doesn't know what to do with the amount of gifts you're giving him constantly. He doesn't even know where to place them in your manor. Adelinde and the other maids are even struggling to maintain the overflow of gifts you've been gifting.

And you, of course, don't think this is enough. "Diluc needs more love" is your motto now!

Alhaitham

Alhaitham's heard of the rumors about being favored by the Almighty Creator. Even Kaveh brought it up, drunk or not, about how Alhaitham was like the golden child of the Their Divine Grace.

Like the usual guy he is, he shrugs it off. Rumors cannot be taken as truth, but that does get him intrigued. Thus, he starts researching to see if these rumors were true, and if not, what parts of the rumor were true.

Turns out, the answer was rather easy to find—you just straight up walked up to him and handed a few books you thought he might find interesting for him. And by a few, I mean at least 50 books.

"Thank you, Your Grace. Unfortunately, I don't think I'll be able to bring any of this home—" "I can help you bring it home!" "—nor do I have the space for it." "I can buy you a new shelf! No, actually, I'll build you your own private library!" "Oh? You're even more intriguing than I thought, Your Grace. Allow me to ask for your help and aid to carry these books home."

You would often buy him books, or give him more mora, or hell, even gift him any furniture or equipment he needed! Anything he needed, you would find a way to supply it to him, or just gift it to him in general, because why not!

Safe to say that Alhaitham took quiet amusement to Kaveh's flabbergasted expression and shock. And, ever the perfectionist he was, how Kaveh was fumbling on shelving the books in the new (big) library you built beside his house that only he (and Kaveh) could access.

Safe to say he is grateful for your favoritism.

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: Dang, is my mailbox exploding with brainrots from people LOL. I certainly wasn't expecting this! I do hope these posts are up to your liking :)

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

#yandere sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #sagau x reader #genshin self aware #sagau #sagau genshin #genshin cult au #sagau brainrot #sagau cult au #sagau diluc #sagau alhaitham #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines

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kairiscorner · 6 months

Note

Hey! I'm sorry, I saw you wanted Haikyuu requests and my brainrot is plaguing me with this though.

Ok so, imagine with me: You are dating Asahi or Kita and whereas he is calm at times. You are the complete opposite! You're basically climbing walls, biting him and sometimes jumping on him at random times.

I'm sorry I just love the idea of a calm man and feral partner or maybe it's just self indulgent

OMGGGGGGG YES PLEASE, THEY'RE MY DARLINGS AND THEY WOULD BE ABSOLUTELY SMITTEN WITH A PARTNER LIKE THAT IMO also i'm sorry i defaulted the reader to be fem, this just struck me as a wonderful idea to make pt 2 of "his girl"! though i will give them they/them pronouns, unless you'd like for me to change it!

his girl. (part 2)

summary: nobody would have thought that your chaotic ass could be dealt with; well, one can only be surprised at the fact that he's able to be the mediator to your chaos... or, rather, the enabler (sometimes!) he just can't say no to you, his cute little partner.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚ asahi azumane

many would be surprised to see this mature looking high school third year, a giant of a high school third year, actually having a soft heart underneath all his muscles and intimidating looks. he was just the sweetest, and you could vouch for it—because he really had a hard time saying no to you and your antics.

sure, you were smaller than him (and the much cuter one in the relationship, in his eyes) though you were like a firecracker; going off whenever everyone least expected it and just doing what you wanted at any given time.

sugawara and daichi were always worrying for the big man, he was responsible, though when handling you, he'd melt into a big puddle of shyness and utter affection whenever you'd peck a kiss on his cheek or give him a hug. you could never keep your hands off him, to the point that when you were being so clingy to him one time, he came into practice looking all bashful, with you riding on his back, gently biting at his reddening cheeks that just kept blushing due to how cute and loving you were being to him.

he can never get used to how much love your smaller self had for him, he can't take all the love you could give, though he was always willing to take it all and give you all of his love for you. you always surprised him with how hyper you could be, but that was part of the wonderful, lovable package that was you.

"i know, they can get... a bit too much sometimes, but i love them like that, and that'll never change." he'd gush to sugawara and daichi, to which they'd nod and sigh. 'he's completely smitten with them, isn't he?'

* ੈ✩‧₊˚ shinsuke kita

to faze kita is to be an absolutely feral person that nobody, not even the miya twins, could rival in having the most ridiculous antics; and that person was... of course, you. he was a straightforward, seemingly perfect, honors student; the no-nonsense captain of inarizaki's male volleyball team, and, surprisingly, your boyfriend.

he does everything on his own time, everything for every hour of every day had a schedule—everything was predictable because everything has a natural flow to follow, kita believed, until you came into his life and turned his oh-so organized life upside down. your chaotic nature could not be controlled, kita could only do so much to keep you in check—such as personally attending to you whenever he can to make sure you didn't do anything rash nor hurt yourself by accident.

he was always a worrier, much like daichi, and he could never settle down to think until you were safe and sound, not causing any chaos nor finding yourself in any chaos. he did respect your independence and never sought to control your actions, though all he hoped to teach you was self-control and moderation, that you can be as chaotic as you want with him, but make sure not to hurt others nor yourself when doing so.

he has said to you before, you can do whatever you feel like with him, just make sure not to hurt yourself or others—so you did just what you felt like doing when kita was mopping the floors of the gym. you rushed up to him, screamed his name all loudly and sweetly, and jumped on his back. gin, aran, suna, and the twins were there when it happened, and of course, they were all partially shocked to see that kita didn't budge at you lunging at him.

suna filmed you kissing down his neck as kita held your legs in place so you wouldn't fall, and steadied your grasp on him. "my love, i did say you could do what you want with me, but what i meant by that was behind closed doors." he reminded you with a stern, yet soft, voice. he could never raise his voice, especially not towards you, his beloved. mopping the floors would have to be rescheduled for later in the day, looks like right now, kita would be taking you outside to piggy back ride you as you smothered him with all your affection. the most unpredictable part of his days are always with you; they're always the most exciting part of his days.

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soulofapatrick · 10 months

Text

I See You - Theodore Nott x Reader

Summary: Theodore steps in when Draco corners you Words: 1.8k Warnings: fluff really Notes: I blanked while writing this as I've had Theodore Nott brainrot recently so don't mind me if I post a few Theodore stories

Y/N’s POV

Today was meant to be a peaceful day with Harry still at Hogwarts with Remus and Ron and Hermione off giggling like a lovesick couple. Hogsmead is ever so pretty covered in a blanket of snow and the bustles of students here to have fun and buy each other last minute Christmas gifts. But, of course, I can’t have anything nice as I round the corner from where I left Ron and Hermione in The Three Broomsticks I bump into a familiar blond.

The sneer ever present on Draco’s face as he shoves me away from him, causing me to stumble and before I know it I’m on my ass in the not so pretty snow. I just shake my head, pushing myself up from the snowy ground, brushing the cold flakes clinging to my jeans. Draco’s mocking laughter fills the air, eyes narrow with distain as he looks down at me like I’m dirt under his shoe.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the Weasley girl,” He sneers, tone dropping with derision, “As expected, stumbling through life like your family stumbles through poverty.”

I take a deep breath, refusing to let Draco’s words bring me down, his little jabs always hurting but I’m never gonna let him see it so instead I meet his gaze with a defiant glare, sneering back, “Does your mother always look at you like she’s stepped in shit?”

A flicker of something flashes across his face, but before I can decipher it he quickly regains his composure, “Watch your tongue, Weasley. You may think you're clever, but you'll always be just another insignificant blood traitor," he spits.

I stand my ground, refusing to back down. "Oh, Draco, I would rather be a blood traitor than a heartless coward who hides behind his family name and pure-blood arrogance," I shoot back, my voice filled with determination. "At least I know the value of true friendship and the strength that comes from standing up for what's right. Something you'll never understand.”

It all sounds so cliche and stupid but the surrounding students watching the exchange have mixed expressions, some wearing smirks of satisfaction at my words while others hold their breath, waiting to see how Draco will respond. But before he can retort, a tall figure steps forward, silently wedging himself between Draco and me. It's Theodore Nott, his typically enigmatic expression softened with a touch of resolve. Without saying a word, he calmly places a hand on Draco's shoulder and pushes him away, creating a safe space for me to stand. However, he may have pushed a little too hard as Draco stumbles backwards, momentarily taken aback by one his best friends apposing him let alone standing up to him.

Draco is tall but Theodore stands taller, an undeniable air of quiet confidence surrounding him. His raven black hair, somehow perfect tousled, frames his striking features, drawing attention to his piercing blue eyes that hold a depth of mysteries. There’s an intriguing allure about him, an enigma that seems to follow his every move.

With a subtle gesture, Theodore motions for Draco to dare take another step closer, the weight of his actions speaking volumes. The surrounding students, captivated by the unfolding scene, exchange whispers and glances filled with admiration and surprise.

Draco, shaken by the unexpected opposition from one of his closest friends, regains his composure. His pride wounded, he attempts to mask his disbelief with a haughty glare. However, the cracks in his facade are evident. It's a rare sight to witness someone challenge Draco, and the students relish in the spectacle, some fighting back grins of satisfaction and with one final sneer Draco turns on his heels and struts away.

There’s a flicker of concern behind Theodore’s piercing blue eyes as they shift their focus to me, a genuine care that sets my heart at ease. With a gentle smile, he takes a step closer, his voice resonating with a warmth that catches me off guard.

“Are you alright?” Theodore’s voice, smooth and velvety, reaches my ears like a soothing melody. I think it’s the first time I’ve truly heard him speak, and there’s a captivating timbre to his words - a perfect harmony of confidence and tenderness. I find myself momentarily entranced by his presence, the way he effortlessly brushes a bit of snow out of my hair, his touch sending a gentle shiver down my spine.

With a grateful smile, I reply, “Thank you Teddy, let me buy you a drink to make up?” The air around us seems to hold a certain electricity, a shared moment that lingers in the wintry atmosphere.

Theodore’s eyes widen slightly and I’m not sure if it’s at my offer or the fact I called him ‘Teddy’ without thinking about it, but either way, surprise mingles with the lingering warmth in his gaze. A hint of a smile plays at the corners of his lips as he considers my proposition and after a moment of silent contemplation he’s nodding and accepting my invitation.

“Teddy?” He asks quietly, almost shyly, as we turn back and head towards The Three Broomsticks, the thoughts of Butterbeer already warming the chill working its way into my bones. A soft blush creeps up my cheeks as I meet his gaze, finding comfort int he genuine warmth radiating from him.

“Yes, Teddy,” I respond with a gentle nod, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips, “If that’s okay with you? It feels right.” The admission carries a sense of vulnerability, as if I’m opening a door to something new, embracing the familiarity that seems to have effortlessly blossomed between us.

A genuine smile spreads across Theodore’s face, eyes crinkling at the corners as he mumbles, “I like it.” There’s a softness in his expression as he speaks, a subtle shift in demeanour that draws me closer both physically and emotionally. I’m bumping shoulders with him lightly as he pushes open the door to The Three Broomsticks for me.

The air is thick with the aroma of freshly brewed Butterbeer, mingling with the comforting scent of wood and fireplaces. The low ceiling is adorned with an array of floating lanterns, casting a soft, golden glow that dances upon the polished wooden floors. The walls are adorned with aging tapestries and moving portraits that I still can’t get used to, having been introduced to the magical world when the Weasley’s adopted me just after my 9th birthday.

The tavern is filled with a harmonious blend of laughter and chatter, the clinking of glasses and the occasional burst of magical fireworks, probably from some new toy Fred and George have created, punctuating the joyful atmosphere. The patrons, a mix of Hogwarts students and locals, gather in small groups at the wooden tables, engaged in animated conversations or enjoying a game of Wizarding chess.

Madam Rosmerta moves with grace behind the bar, effortlessly serving Butterbeer and other magical drinks. Her warm smile and friendly banter create an inviting atmosphere, making everyone feel right at home.

We make our way to the small table indicated by Madam Rosmerta, and as we settle down, Theodore takes the seat beside me. His presence is comforting, his arm casually draped over the back of my chair. It's a subtle gesture, yet it carries an intimacy that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through my veins. As he lean in closer to hear me other over the lively ambiance of the pub, Theodore's head ducks down, his voice a soft murmur that tickles my ear. The proximity between us feels both exhilarating and comforting, like a secret shared between kindred spirits. In the midst of the bustling crowd, we create our own little world, cocooned in the warmth of our connection. The laughter and conversations of the other patrons blend into the background, fading away as our focus rests solely on each other.

“You’re so beautiful.” The pads of his fingers brush lightly over my jaw, sending my face aflame as it’s something so unexpected and something so right. His voice is deep and full of genuinely which isn’t expected from Slytherins. Before either of us can say or do anything else Madam Rosmerta approaches with our drinks, a tray of steaming Butterbeer and a mischievous twinkle in her eye, Theodore’s hand moving away from me, his touch fleeting, but it sends a jolt of electricity through my fingertips, leaving me craving more. With a grateful smile, we accept our drinks, the frothy liquid adding a touch of sweetness to the atmosphere. The taste of the warm Butterbeer dances on my tongue, mirroring the warmth that spreads within me whenever Theodore's eyes meet mine.

With Madam Rosmerta’s retreating figure a sense of anticipation lingers in the air. I feel Theodore’s gaze intensify, his eyes fixed on mine with a mixture of tenderness and desire. Without a word, he captures my jaw between his thumb and forefinger, guiding me gently toward him.

Time seeming to stand still as our lips meet in a surprising yet delicate kiss. The world around us fading away, leaving only the soft press of his lips against mine, the warmth of his breath mingling with mine. It’s a kiss filled with unspoken promises and raw vulnerability. It has me melting into his strong presence, my body instinctively leaning closer. His touch both electrifying and gentle, as if he’s holding me with the utmost care. The taste of butterbeer lingering on his tongue adds to the intensity of the kiss, drawing an embarrassing sound from me.

As the kiss comes to an end, both of us breathless and wide-eyes, a hint of surprise flickers across Theodore’s features. He stammers, voice laced with a touch of flustered apology, “I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to…”

But, before he can finish his sentence, I’m silencing him with another kiss, my lips pressing against his with a mixture of urgency and tenderness. It’s my way of telling him that he doesn’t need to apologise, a soft sigh escaping me when he brings a hand up to cup my jaw as the kiss ends just as sweetly. I’m whispering softly, voice a blend of relief and affection, “I’m glad you like me Teddy. I’m surprised you even see me.”

“Oh sweetheart,” His vice is low, eyes searching mine, a myriad of emotions swirling within them, thumb caressing my cheek as he leans closer, lips barely brushing mine and he murmurs four words that leave me speechless:

“I’ve always seen you.”

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an-otterly-adorable-being · 7 months

Note

hello! if you don't mind i do have a request for poly Fizzmodeus x reader

can you do headcanons of them with a crush on an idol/popstar succubus who's secretly a single parent (to keep the kid safe bc reader knows the public will be more than invasive and will only reveal the kid when they're older)? like reader's hesitant to rlly get into a relationship with the two bc she's afraid of what they think.

a certain anime's been giving me this brainrot for a while and i don't have the skill to properly write this sjjdkdkdkskdk

I didn't focus too much on the succubus part, but I hope this is good.

Fizzarolli x Asmodeus x F!SingleParent!Reader

Fizz is not a great father, but he does try his best, and thats why I love him <3. Hope y'all enjoy!

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• Your tour ended recently, and you already have a new album being planned.

• For anyone else, it's a dream come true.

• For you, well, it's the break you desperately need to see your kid.

• You've been living a double life for a while.

• On one hand, you're a pop star, hiding her face beneath a variety of masks, with hundreds of thousands of adoring fans.

• On the other, you were a mom just looking out for her kid, trying to keep them out of the exhausting and draining world of fame.

• The mask thing was probably one of your best ideas, as it let you actually go out with your child without being accosted by the paparazzi.

• Plus the whole "secretive succubus" act was great for sales and popularity.

• Most of the money goes to your kid. Yeah, they may end up a tad bit spoiled, but you just want them to be happy.

• Plus, you do have the foresight to not make them an asshole.

• You've dealt with enough rich people in your time, and most of them are the exact kind of people you're trying to keep away from your child.

• Although...there are two that are pretty nice.

• You knew Fizzarolli first, both of you hitting Lust's entertainment circuit at the same time.

• You even had a small thing together for a little bit, although it never really grew. It was more platonic than romantic anyways.

• That's not to say that you hadn't considered going further, or that you didn't have some feelings for him, you just chose not to act on it.

• Asmodeus, on the other hand, found you after you had gotten a decent sized following.

• Unlike with Fizz, nothing really happened between you, but you did become good friends.

• He was also kind of hot too.

• When you had gotten back to your home, you were planning on take your kid out to do...something.

• You weren't sure, but it didn't matter, because someone had sent you a message.

• It was from Ozzie, inviting you over for dinner

• Problem is, you had just gotten back, and you really wanted to be with your kid.

• So, you asked if he could make sure that dinner stayed pg-13, which he questioned, but agreed to.

• You had been wanting to tell Asmodeus about you being a parent for a while, you needed to figure out dinner, and you didn't want to leave your child again, so why not kill 3 birds with one stone?

• When you got there, you got a pleasant suprise in the form of Fizzarolli.

• Fizz and Ozzie also had a suprise, the fact you had a kid.

• (I've been trying to leave the kid's age ambiguous, so that y'all can have a bit of freedom with it. If the kid's old enough, they introduce themselves, and if not you do it. Anyways, back to the headcanons.)

• It takes a good couple of minutes to explain everything, but they understand and respect your decision to keep your child out of the limelight.

• The dinner was nice, fancy too. Then again, you weren't expecting anything else.

• There was something odd though, you felt like Fizz and Ozzie were flirting with you.

• Turns out, they were.

• Apparently, both Ozzie and Fizz, who were together already, wanted to invite you into a little polycule relationship.

• And to be honest, you didn't hesitate to say yes.

• As mentioned before, you did have feelings for Fizz, and you did think Asmodeus was hot.

• Plus, you wouldn't mind having some help raising a child.

• Turns out that Ozzie is a pretty good parent.

• Fizz not so much, but he's trying.

• And dear Satan is it amazing to have people doting on you for once.

• Fans are one thing, romantic partners are so, so much better.

• And hey, at least your kid will grow up around some genuinely good people.

#fizzaroli x reader #headcanon #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss headcanon #asmodeus x fizzarolli #asmodeus x reader #fizzaroli helluva boss #fizzarolli #fizzarolli x asmodeus #helluva boss asmodeus #polyamory

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schizoidcel · 23 days

Text

## BOOTHILL x READER ★

🤍 ﹒ HEADCANONS ! ! . .

－ notes ̽ ۪⠀written before his release + gn reader huhu. yall i swear ill get to the lcb requests but im brainrotting too fucking much right now boothill is colonizing my mind so enjoy these thoughts i had and will throw into the tags

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

He's a little spoon and NOBODY can convince me otherwise period.

We know damn well hes touch starved. So ofcourse he'd wanna be nuzzled up inbetween your chest and chin

Will teach you how to ride a horse. He definitely has a favourite (his name is Sebastian 🌚🌚)

Very protective over him though. You will not ride on that horse until you are months into the relationship

He gave you another horse to practice riding on and an extra horse incase the other "knocks your socks off" ... Whatever that means

You named them Yee and Haw and he was so conflicted with his emotions that he considered getting a routine check up on his body

Will tease you if you completely fuck up immediately.

He grabs your hands to gesture on things you should be wary about while being on the back of a horse, knowing it'll mess your brain up and lead you to not pay attention to a single thing coming out of his mouth

On the other hand if you're able to handle it in a short amount of time, he'll start flirting with you

"I'm doing it, Boo!" "Nice work, honeybunch. Think ya can manage ridin' somethin' else?" "Dude"

It's one or the other. You will not escape the Boothill down bad programm

Boothill also acts like a himbo to mess around with you.

On another note, you called him Bootyhill once and he's still shook up. Whether /pos or /neg is up to interpretation

While we're on the topic of nick/pet names, he calls you things you've never heard of before .

Or even if you did, they're things you expected never to be called 😭

What the fuck is a doodlebug Boothill

Type of man to get flustered when you flirt back. He just starts bugging out

Will play it cool though, but the faint blue on his cheeks says otherwise

Also a fan of headpats. No, he's not ashamed. No, he will not tell you.

Expanding on the no shame, Boothill takes it to the extreme

No filter, no mask, no nothing. Touchy EVERYWHERE you go

Even if he can't really feel it, he just feels more at ease when you both are near eachother or touch one another. Man wants to protect his partner, after all

It dosen't matter if you're able to protect yourself, the gesture just makes him feel more comfortable and calm

Also has a hair pulling kink woah. Let's keep it sfw everybody

Forehead kisses ❤️ or just kisses anywhere on his head in general. Kiss behind his ears and he will overheat

He let's you play with his hair<3 It's one of his favourite passtimes with you

Braid it, tie it in a ponytail, give him buns, pigtails, curl them, decorate them with hairpins, clip bows in his strands it don't matter PLAY WITH HIS HAIR ⁉️

He relaxes SO MUCH it's insane. Genuinely just one finger goes into that hair of his and he melts

This plays into the little spoon factor

You'd tease him about it but he takes pride in it 😭

Has a weird obsession with biting. If you complain that it hurts he goes "What, want me to smooch the pain away?" and he does this fuckass face :3 while you're just staring at him dead in the eye (you say yes btw)

If you're ticklish, he's hell for you

Tickles you in the most random times possible.

And you know it's even WORSE with those cold ass metalic hands

You're cuddling? The sides of your torso are not safe. You're currently occupied with an activity involving your hands? Your armpits are not safe either. He's laying on your bare stomache face down? He starts blowing raspberries.

You know damn well he uses the feathers of his hat 😭

Sticks it up your nose to make you sneeze too. Usually to wake you up or some shit

You could have the most volcano eruption alert level 5 sneeze and he'd still say "Aww, ya sneeze like a kitten!"

One last note this man is a whiney loser bottom not sorry

the word ill is in boothill for a reason the way im laying in bed all sweaty ANYway 🌚😵😵😵😵

ૢ་༘࿐ thank you for reading ! Ⳋ᧙

#boothill x reader #bruh #i feel so insane #and normal #normaling #ok wer e done. im out. goodbye hsr community thisll be my only contribution #proof reading and looking at the eidolon i used for the header why nobody draw him with those glasses yet🧐🧐

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divine-girl02 · 9 months

Text

pretty girl 💭 hobie brown x fem reader

★ CW reader is portrayed to be feminine and likes a lot of pink and other 'girly' things ★ NOTES just a little something becuz the hobie brainrot is too real and I need to let it out SOMEWHERE, hope u guys enjoy ♡ ★ WC: 682

Hobie was never really the kind of guy to have a 'type'. He liked who he liked. So when you came into his life, or well more specifically, when you walked into the stingy venue where his band was performing, all dolled up and pink looking like you came straight out of a children's princess story book, he had no complaints.

After his band's set, he hopped off the stage immediately, pushing and squeezing through the crowd just to get to you. He really wanted to hear what you sounded like. Eventually he stumbles in front of you, immediately straightening up with one hand stuck out to you and the other tucked into the pocket of his vest.

"Hey there," He says with a small smirk. You take his hand kindly, so softly that Hobie feels as though he might accidentally break your bones if he shook your hand too hard.

"What's a pretty girl like you doin' here all alone?" Hobie asks with a tilt of his head. He's already gently guiding you to the side of venue, keeping an arm extended out next to you so that no one bumps into you.

An evening of talking turned into exchanging numbers, and that turned to what you two were now.

Hobie wasn't one for labels, most especially in relationships, but you were his girl and he was yours, and he made sure to show you well. He didn't care that you two were practically polar opposites, your only common denominator being you both liked cats and plants. No no, he didn't care about that. Not when you talked his ear off on the names of all your stuffed toys. Not when you excitedly press your soft lips against his cheek before he hops up on stage. And especially not when your hands fit so well into his own. No, you were his. His girl, his angel, his sweetheart, you were his everything.

Hobie didn't care when you two fought either. They rarely happened but when it does things get rough.

You just stormed out of his apartment, fed up with his reluctance to tell you where he was last night. But how would he tell you that he was Spider-man? That he was busy trying to keep the city safe and most definitely not messing with other girls? Hobie decides to give you some space before he follows you over to your apartment a few hours later.

"What are you doing here?" You ask softly, your front door slightly ajar. It had only been a few hours but Hobie had oh so desperately missed your face. In his hands, a bouquet of your favorite and in the other a box of your favorite pastries.

"Just here t'spoil my angel." Hobie murmurs, leaning down and brushing your hair away to press his lips on your forehead. He lets himself in, gently pushing you back into your apartment and into your bedroom with a large hand on the small of your back. Truthfully, Hobie knows that you'll always let him crash back into your life, loud and reckless like how he always is. Breaking down your walls with his lips and his wandering hands.

He lays you on the bed, hovering over you on his elbows as he presses his lips to yours, and you let him. His kisses are his apology, soft, sweet, and insistent. After some time you gently push him off of you pestering him about not wanting the stuffed animals, your babies, you call them, to see you two locking lips. Hobie laughs and rolls over, laying on his back. And just like that, he's forgiven.

Other than the occasional fight, the two of you were smooth sailing. Spending the days in solidarity with each other. Sometimes Hobie will bring you to a rave or to a band gig. Sometimes you'll bring him to a baking class. It was 50/50. And despite all eyes being on you two as you locked hands, Hobie could care less, because you're his pretty girl, and that was all he needed.

#hobie brown #hobie x reader #hobie x you #spider man #across the spiderverse #hobie brown x reader #spider punk #hobart brown #atsv #hobie fluff #hobie imagine

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euseokz · 3 months

Text

@ sohee — i’ve been wanting you for so long, how could i say no when you finally feel the same way ? . cws : unprotected sex . creampie . oral (f) - only one mention . wc : 1.4k+ . genre : smut

a/n : this might actually be my favorite thing i’ve written so far i swear 😭 i also 100% blame @dearmyouth for this, thank you for giving me the sohee brainrot i finally get the hype 🙌🏻

BEST-FRIEND! SOHEE who has never been particularly good at hiding his attraction towards you.

it wasn’t like he ever acted on it or made you feel uncomfortable because of it, all the glances he took up and down your body discrete enough, and any riskier touches he dared somehow always safe enough to still be passed as coming from a friend who just happened to be a bit clingier. you were pretty close after all, so no one ever suspected a thing — however, you did notice those small details, to you they were pretty obvious at least.

you knew how sohee looked at his other friends, and you also knew how he looked at the girls he found attractive, and his gaze towards you somehow always seemed to lean more towards the latter. you also knew that even on his clingiest days he was never as clingy as he always seemed to be when it came to you, especially when you two were alone. you had always known he liked you, and assumed it was just a small crush at most, so you never cared, thinking it would eventually go away, that he’d get tired of it and move on.

apparently though, that wouldn’t be the case.

over time sohee seemed to get more desperate. he was still never disrespectful, but you could see his slip ups, how he’d make comments that had a double meaning without noticing, ending up blushing and getting a bit awkward when he did process his words, or how he’d reach out to hold your hand or hug you when he had never seemed all that inclined towards that sort of more intimate gesture in the first place. it was getting to be too much, and what you thought would be something temporary, was very quickly proving itself to be quite the opposite. you almost felt bad for sohee, because you could see how guilty he felt over the whole thing, and you thought that was endearing, how he valued your friendship enough to not wanna risk losing it over his own feelings.

maybe all he needed was a little sign, something that would let him know that maybe you weren’t so against exploring a romantic relationship with him after all — so you gave him just that, asking him if he wanted to kiss you one night when you found yourselves all alone in his apartment, the tv screen the only thing lightning up the living room as you both talked to each other, barely paying attention to whatever was paying.

even in the dim-lighted room you could see how sohee’s eyes kept darting towards your lips when you spoke, how his own stayed parted whenever he didn’t chew on them anxiously. how his hands seemed to seek yours, inching closer to you under the wide blanket you shared only to snap back to his lap when he noticed what he was doing. you thought you could also see a faint blush adorn his cheeks up to the tip of his ears, and as if that wasn’t enough motivation for you to want to tease him a bit, you eventually noticed the small tent forming on his crotch once the topic of your conversation turned to one ever so slightly spicier — that truly being the last drop, the last reason you needed to ask him if he wanted to kiss you.

sohee stumbled on his words when the question left your mouth, and you could almost see the gears turning inside his head, temptation and lust very clearly starting to cloud his judgment as he looked at you, eyes focused on yours. he did utter out a small “yeah” though, immediately taking the first step and guiding you to lay down on the couch, going to hover over you, his face mere centimeters away from yours. you could also see the last bits of self-restraint leaving his body when he asked you if you were sure, and as soon as you said “yes”, he was on you, his lips ravaging yours as if he had been dreaming of that moment for years (which, all things considered, he had).

sohee’s touch could only be described as curious and desperate at that moment. his kiss was needy, thirsty, tasting every bit of you he could and damn near begging for more when he felt you pull away for a breath of air. both your lips were red and shiny after the first round, the seconds you spent in silence being occupied by your eyes locked on each other, as if you were having a silent conversation, wordlessly agreeing that a kiss, although nice, wasn’t enough.

when he leaned down again, sohee kept up the energy. his lips pressed into yours frantically, his teeth even clanking against yours and his tongue reaching to explore every bit of you it could. this time though his hands didn’t stay politely by your sides, instead traveling up and down your body, sneaking under your shirt and feeling up directly against your skin, smiling against your lips because of the small trail of goosebumps his cold fingers left behind. somewhere along the way, between a lot of kissing and small, shy moans being shared, you finally found yourselves naked, distinct piles of clothes scattered around the dark living room’s floor and your bodies back on the couch, sohee sitting down in the middle of it with his legs spread while you were on top of him, slowing lowering yourself on his cock. you were absolutely soaked — he had made sure of that by making you cum on his tongue once before — and his dick was as hard as it had ever been, his erection painful if he was being honest, fat beads of pre-cum slipping past his slit and dampening his pink tip, leaving a shiny trail from it down to his base.

once you had finally pushed all of sohee into your heat, you both sighed in relief — said relief being short-lived because your combined desperation quickly kicked in, leaving you both eager for more. you started moving up and down on sohee’s lap, his hands resting at your waist, helping guide you, while loud lewd sounds spread across the room, your moans shameless and the sticky sound of your slick mixing with his pre-cum as your hips hit against sohee’s didn’t help in any way. you didn’t care though, already too overtaken by your own arousals, only focused on each other, on how you felt.

sohee filled you up perfectly, as if his cock had been made for your cunt, his tip hitting the perfect spot when he bottomed out, making you mewl his name, asking for more — and because he could never say no to you, sohee stopped you for a second just so he could flip you both, changing position so you laid on the couch and he was on top of you, your legs circled around his waist tightly and his chest pressed flush against yours, one of his arms laced around your waist while his other hand had it’s fingers digging into one of your thighs. your bodies were glued to each other, so up-close you swore you had never been as pressed up against another person. you felt every single one of sohee’s movements — felt his abdomen tense when he pistoned his hips into yours, his thighs tense with every thrust, even how uneven his breath was because of the way his chest moved up and down. it was personal, as intimate as sex could be, and you weren’t sure you would be able to live without it now that you had experienced it.

sohee kept going, moving in and out of you swiftly and whispering small nothings against your neck, telling you how pretty you were, how good you felt, how badly he had been wanting this. he was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice his orgasm approaching, only taking note when it was too late and his dick was twitching inside your pussy, filling you up with cum to the brim. you didn’t mind though, and although the feeling of his seed spilling into you brought sohee out of his trance almost immediately, barely even able to enjoy his orgasm out of worriedness, it only heightened your pleasure, his high triggering yours as you came around him, plush walls pulsing around his cock and milking him dry, creaming around his girth as you screamed his name. seeing your state made sohee get back into it, his apprehensiveness lasting nothing more than a few seconds as he continued with his movements, thrusting into you now at a slower pace, letting you both catch your breath while you calmed down.

it all felt a bit surreal, how sudden everything seemed to have happened and most of all how good it all felt, but you knew that wouldn’t be the last time you’d experience it — you’d make sure it wasn’t.

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hinaaspanda · 2 years

Text

off limits! | j.ww

pairing: brother's best friend! Jeon Wonwoo x fem! reader

warnings: 18+ content, swearing

genre: fluff, some angst, crack, smut; fingering, protected sex, dirty talk + praising

wc: 9,907

For years, you've had a crush on your brother's best friend; Jeon Wonwoo. Though, with him being so close to your brother, you couldn't do anything about those feelings, so you tuck them away and get over him. After not seeing him for years, you thought you were safe, free from a world of loving him. But, all of that changes when you meet him again... as your roommate!

a/n: hi! I'm back with my first fic for seventeen! I'm going through major wonwoo brainrot rn. this is also my first time writing for the smut genre so I hope you enjoy!

...

Currently, you stood before the one man you wanted nothing more than to avoid.

The best friend of your obnoxious brother, Jeon Wonwoo.

You felt Mingyu’s shoulder roughly brush past yours, dropping off the last of the boxes. You, however, couldn’t find yourself to put down the box nesting in your arms. You were too trapped in a world of shock to do so. Wonwoo pushed a few of his boxes off to the side as you watched Mingyu shuffle closer to his best friend—his best friend who had just moved away to an entirely new city for university, and who just so happened to be your new roommate.

6 feet under the ground has never looked more comfortable.

It wasn’t that you hated him or anything. As of right now, the two of you were—in a formal sense—acquaintances. However, a few years ago that would have been a different story. Sure, you may have never uttered more than a sentence to the quiet best friend of Kim Mingyu, but that didn’t stop you from growing absolutely infatuated with him. Thinking about him at every chance you got, daydreaming about him amidst the boring lectures of your high school social class.

His distance didn’t stop your heart from its emotional chase, but his proximity to your brother did. Every weekend Wonwoo would visit, every night he would stay late for dinner—it all reminded you of the roadblock that was your brother. So, after months of pining, with all the effort in your being, you finally decided to drop Jeon Wonwoo from your heart. What remained was the mundane label of acquaintances.

And now, roommates, apparently.

“I think that’s the last of it,” Mingyu said with a proud huff. Gathering his belongings, Mingyu strutted his way to the front door of your new home. The new home that, for some reason, you couldn’t forget was Wonwoo’s, too. Mingyu shot a pointer finger at your chest. “Call mom and dad when you get settled, okay? I gotta go. See ya y/n, you too Wonwoo!”

After bumping fists with Wonwoo for one last time, Mingyu headed out the door. The door slammed shut, and the two of you stood in silence, both of your eyes glued to the tops of your shoes. Not once in your life did you think you would ever say this, but maybe you missed your boisterous brother. Without his overbearing, annoying presence, the air between Wonwoo and you wouldn’t have been so thick, so tense.

To say this was a new situation to be in would be a deep understatement. Despite knowing him for years, you could never remember a time where you were alone with Wonwoo. Without distractions, or the overbearing presence of your brother. Just the two of you. Alone.

And now, you would spend the next few months just like that. Alone.

Without thinking, you break off the silence. Cringey– smack your head against the wall and curl up into a ball– kind of cringey small talk spills from your mouth. All the while your brain screams at you to shut up. Luckily, Wonwoo was kind enough to answer your embarrassingly useless questions about his life.

“You know, I’m surprised you even remember me” You suddenly spill out. Your eyes widen. What was wrong with you?

Wonwoo's head dipped down, his eyes catching a glimpse of you before falling back down to his slippers.

“Don’t worry, I don’t think I could ever forget about you.”

Woah. Okay. That was weird. You could feel your cheeks flare up.

Wonwoo and you each steal a glance from each other's eyes, like nervous middle schoolers at a school dance. You wanted to rip your eyes away from him and his… changed physique, but you once again caught yourself staring the moment he shined an innocent smile.

God, okay.

"Er, why don't we start unpacking?" you chirped hastily, wanting nothing more than to escape the suffocating air of awkwardness.

…

With a ceramic bowl in your hands, you stood still. Gawking at the towering shelf before you. It couldn't be helped, you didn't know what to do when the only vacant space for said bowl was at the very top of said shelf. You try a variety of preliminary solutions first; reaching with all your might, balancing on your tippy toes to close the gap. It didn’t work. An exhausted sigh pushed through your lips, that same sigh switching to a low toned groan by the end of it. The way you were going to reach it? Only God knew.

Safe to say, you were not expecting this specific solution.

You felt a sudden warmth ghosting behind you. Closely behind. Maybe a few centimeters. You inhale sharply, the shock stunning you. Your eyes graze over a particularly toned arm reaching beside, then past yours. It’s fingers snatching the bowl away from your pitiful ones. Your ears perk up to the sound of shifting, and another hand snakes around your side, fully entraping your figure against the counter. You prayed the heat of your skin came from the poorly conditioned apartment.

“Here, let me help you,” Wonwoo said nonchalantly, through a grin. So aloof, so opposite to how flustered you felt. His towering arm placed the bowl on the shelf. He stood in that position—trapping you against the counter—for a few more seconds (but what felt like an eternity) before returning to his own things to unpack. You barely stuttered a response, wanting nothing more than to suffocate in the bubble wrap from the boxes.

…

There was a specific horror when it came to sharing everything with Boo Seungkwan. You see, he had a slight tendency to make sure you never forget.

That man in question, along with you and your other best friend, Vernon, sat on Vernon’s couch. The original plan was to enjoy the weekend in each other’s company while watching a movie everyone could enjoy. Instead, you sat silently in the middle, munching your way through the chip as your two friends argued over the remote.

“No, I’m choosing. We are not gonna sit through another one of your stupid artsy films!”

“They’re not stupid, you’re just too stupid to understand whats going on!”

“Last time we watched a movie you chose, I had to sit through 10 minutes of two people having sex with a crowd of people moaning along. Never. Again.”

You wince at the memory of the movie that made a new definition of horror in your books. Vernon snatched the remote again. “My house, my movie.”

Seungkwan scowled. “Then we’re never watching a movie under your roof again. Next time we’re at my place.”

Vernon barked back. “With a couch we can barely fit on? Nice try!”

“At least we’ll be cozy and not traumatized!”

Vernon sighed, suddenly handing the remote to you. “Okay fine, why don’t we go to Y/n’s house next time, and she can pick the movie.”

You jolt at the sudden mention of your name.

Your eyes scan Seungkwan’s expression, an expression which switches immediately into one of mischief. An evil grin shines on his face as he sends a nudging elbow to your side. His eyebrows wiggle, and you roll your eyes, knowing exactly what was bound to come next. “Yeah! And we can finally meet Mr. Roomie/Mingyu’s best friend that Y/n’s got the hots for!!”

Heat running to your cheeks, you shove Seungkwan’s shoulder. Hard. “I don’t have the ‘hots’ for him, dumbass. I just had a… small crush on him when we were kids, that’s all.”

“Uh huh, okay.” His tone bled unimpressed. “That’s not what it sounded like when you called me last week.” Now Vernon was interested, cocking an eyebrow at your direction.

You nipped at your lips. Shit. He was right. When you called him—on the day you moved in—you sounded a little too freaked out to be completely indifferent about your new roommate.

It was unclear how you truly felt about Jeon Wonwoo. But one thing's for sure, it wasn’t normal.

“Oh, Y/n” Seungkwan sighed dramatically, throwing an arm around your shoulders for an embrace. “I dunno about you, but I wouldn’t ignore someone like him! I think there's definitely something there, girl.”

You never thought you’d say this, but you missed 5 minutes ago, when the topic of conversation was the unique movie tastes of your friends, and the chosen mode of communication was yelling, despite them literally being one person— you— apart. At least then, you weren’t stuck thinking about your berserk living situation.

…

There’s definitely something there.

Seungkwan’s words played over and over again in your head. On the bus ride home, as you got ready for bed, and as you tucked yourself in your cozy covers, those 4 words replayed.

As smart as Boo Seungkwan claimed to be, he was wrong on this one. You didn’t have feelings for your roommate. The night you moved in— the ceramic bowl incident, as Vernon liked to call it— was just a slip up. One mistake in a sea of second chances. You were fine. After all, a week has passed since you moved in, and to your surprise, the two of you were actually settling in quite nicely. Quick exchanges of small talk filled the shared air, replacing the tense silence your week began with. Slowly the two of you began to open up, chatting about your day during your shared meals. Wonwoo even proposed the brilliant idea of having a dishwashing schedule. You could still remember how proud he was when he thought of the idea.

It was almost… cute.

You caught yourself, fingers pulling down your cheeks as you try to hide the smile that came so automatically at the thought of that damn dishwashing schedule. The heat that rose to your cheeks when you think of how easy it was to talk to him nowadays. No. You were not going to fold now.

With a final huff jumping from your chest, you hop out of your bed, ready to start your day. Your day, that, with enough determination, would be free of weird thoughts regarding your roommate. You hovel to the apartment living room, your tired eyes immediately making contact with a certain bowl shaped head. Complete in his loose fitted white t-shirt, black joggers, and thin rimmed glasses. His fingers clutched onto a gaming controller, his fingers moving the controls that gave life to his first person shooter. As if your gaze summoned him, Wonwoo turned around, a smile beaming from his lips.

“Good morning!”

You watched him grin at you with his lightly tousled bed hair. You instinctively wrap an arm around your stomach, to hide the somersaults it was currently performing under your shirt. Convincing yourself that it was the morning hunger, you shine a bogus smile. “Morning!”

To say that he’s changed within the years you methodically avoided him would be a deep understatement. Though he was presently sitting down, past encounters with him proved that he towered over you. He’d always been taller than you, but now the difference was much more dramatic. And while he stood massively before you, at least back then he was lanky, built with little to no muscle. Now? God generously replaced that lanky frame with a physique gifted from, well, the gods. Sure, his shirt was loose, but his arm and chest muscles still managed to peek through the fabric. You catch your stubborn eyes staring at his broad shoulders a little longer than you expected.

His face managed to change, too. It grew more sculpted, his cheeks chiseled and jawline so sharp it could cut you. Though the idea of touching his jaw didn’t scare you off, only intriguing you. You shook your head aggressively, shaking away those horrid thoughts.

You pivot on your heel, beginning to make your way to the kitchen. You weren’t strong enough to handle whatever your heart was going through, so you opted for a light breakfast instead.

However, you can never have it your way, now can you?

The clicks of the controller stopped for a second, and Wonwoo’s voice peaks in your ears.

“Wanna play with me?”

…

“Uh, Wonwoo” You slowly inched away from the screen. After dropping into the game’s world, it had finally hit you that you had no idea how to even play. His gaze which burned your back, however. It distracted you from the game entirely. You clear your throat.

“How do you play?”

“Bruh” Wonwoo muttered, and you gave an apologetic laugh. Maybe you did deserve the lecture about not skipping the very simple tutorial that only played once so you wouldn’t die within two minutes of the game. You moved the controls randomly, dropping items and taking damage like it was no tomorrow, all against Wonwoo’s best interest. You almost wanted to do it out of spite, just to mess with him a little.

Guess Wonwoo had a little trick up his sleeve as well.

“Oh my god, okay, here.”

Without warning, you felt two muscular arms slither around your waist, connecting at the controller you also held snug against your chest. Sparks pop against your skin, and you shiver in surprise. You honestly couldn’t tell if your jaw was touching the carpet floor or not, or if you had the chance to blink. You couldn't make sense of anything. Nothing made any goddamn sense. The pads of his thumbs trace your fingers, your peripheral vision showing truly how small your hands were compared to his.

“This button is used to shoot, okay?” his voice rumbled deep—was his voice always this deep?— as he practically whispered flush against your ear. You couldn’t help but shiver at the contact. You inhale deeply, compensating from your current lack of air. The way each syllable tingled against your skin. You were never going to survive real life, never mind this stupid video game. “Here, you can check your inventory, and here, you can change your weapon.”

It was as if time had stopped. Your mind was going crazy. The delicate touch of his fingers, the tingles of his voice on your skin, his frame encasing yours in his arms—all of it. You couldn’t handle one single bit of it. You couldn’t give two flying fucks about the game at this point. A part of you wanted to stay, just like this.

Abruptly, however, the ding of the doorbell sounds throughout the apartment. The two of you jolt awake, and you jump away from each other. Wonwoo glances away immediately. Almost as if he was flustered. After composing yourself, you trot to the door, and peek through the apartment camera.

It was your brother. Kim fucking Mingyu.

…

“Basketball game?” You and Wonwoo chirped in unison.

“Yeah!” Mingyu grinned from across the kitchen table. He cradled the glass containers full of homemade food, a gift to you— courtesy of your thoughtful mother. He tilted his head to you. “I thought I texted you about it?”

You froze. “Oh.” Okay, it wasn’t your fault your brain had been quite preoccupied as of recently. “I didn’t see it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Mingyu swayed his hand. “I want you guys to come watch!”

Wonwoo and you glance at one another, your movements falling in unison as you discuss the possibility of attending. A discussion that needed minimal words, as if you could already read each other’s mind. It piqued your brother’s interest, cocking an eyebrow at you. “Since when did you two get so close?”

You froze, fingers nervously dancing on your tabletop. A wave of fear shot down your spine as your eyes refused to look at Wonwoo; your brother’s best friend. You would very much rather die a slow, painful death, than to have your brother realize his best friend and his little sister were getting too close for comfort.

Of course, your cheeks heat up at the thought of getting closer with Wonwoo. You shake your head, squinting. Stop it. Now’s definitely not the time.

The low ahem grumbled from your side, and Wonwoo shifted forward. His tone sounded swift, almost panicked. Like he was trying to hide something. “We’re roommates, of course we’re close.”

Wonwoo looked at you once more, shining a smile. You turn to your brother, your smile being fully false. “Uh, yeah!”

You watched as Mingyu’s eyes darted between your figures, narrowing in suspicion before widening back up. You heave a sigh of relief. For once, you were grateful for your brother’s slowness. “Oh right, why didn’t I realize?” His laugh filled the kitchen air, and the two of you laughed along.

Right. You huffed. You and Wonwoo were nothing but roommates to each other. Anything more could lead to a confusing, and unfavorable event.

…

You watched as Wonwoo locked your apartment door, the evening lights peeking through the window serving as your first indication that it was time for dinner together. Dinner together. You couldn’t help but feel just the slightest bit fuzzy as you placed down two of each utensil on your shared table.

You slap yourself. Snap out of it!

“Mingyu’s kinda slow, isn’t he?” Wonwoo’s voice perked through your ears. “He really forgot that we were roommates.”

Your chest releases a half-hearted chuckle. “Yeah”

Roommates. That's what you two were. Though, you weren’t quite sure who that reminder was really for. You wanted it to be for him, but the sinking feeling in your chest could suggest who it was really meant for.

…

There were two sounds that took over the apartment air that Saturday evening. The faint audio of a romantic comedy, and the much more prominent sounds of you and Wonwoo, arguing about said romantic comedy.

“This is ridiculous,” Wonwoo gestured a very judgmental hand towards the screen, where the male lead just so happened to bump into his female love interest in a completely different country. “There’s no way he’d meet her across the country by accident, that’s not realistic at all.”

You waved your hands, frustrated at the sheer man energy Wonwoo was exhibiting, trying to explain everything with dumb realism. “Are you dumb? This is a drama, it’s not supposed to be realistic!”

Wonwoo only grimaced before quieting down, sinking into the couch before continuing the film. You knew he always had a bone to pick with anything that didn’t fit nicely into the realms of realism,—rich coming from a literal gamer, but okay— so it was a surprise when your brother’s best friend asked to join you during your weekly rom-com binge. Though now you were close to taking back your words, seeing as his only motivation was to give you a goddamn headache.

As the two of you grow immersed in the screen, with sprinkles of bickering here and there, an hour and a half passes on the clock, and the two of you finally reach the finale. The two main leads find each other at opposite ends at a crosswalk. The music queues and sudden rain pours in. As the walking lights turn green, the two characters meet at the center of the road, a passionate kiss locking between their lips. And with that, the credits roll. It was as unrealistic as you can get. A pure product of fiction. You were expecting Wonwoo to explode with confusion. This ending infuriating his realism fueled brain. However, he seemed to be focused on something else entirely.

“That was a bad kiss scene.” Your brother’s best friend blurted out. It took you aback, your eyes bouncing between him and the screen. “Huh?”

“There was no build up, the guy sorta just rushed in. If the audience didn’t know anymore, they would’ve thought that he just smacked her head or something.”

You looked back at the screen, thinking back to the kiss. He did have a point, the main male lead did seem a little rushed. You wonder if the kiss scene was actually as good as you initially thought, or if its quality was just masked by the cool lighting and special effects.

Wait. Your brows furrow. What did he even know?

Was Jeon Wonwoo a good kisser?

Almost immediately, certain thoughts take over your brain. Your heart was beating faster and faster with each tick of the clock above you. You nip at your lips. No, no, no. You couldn’t have those thoughts in your head. The last thing you wanted was to develop anything for your brother’s best friend. The consequences of doing such were too much for your tiny brain to comprehend.

Yet, why couldn’t you stop thinking about it?

“What do you know about kissing, anyways?” You probe defensively, though you weren’t sure what the defense was for. “You think you could do better or something?”

“Oh, way better.” Wonwoo said with a puffed chest and a familiar heat began to creep on your cheeks. “Unlike him, I wouldn’t rush it. I’d take my time with her…”

Wonwoo’s eyes met yours. “...Savor her.”

You felt queasy to your stomach. Only now, at this very moment, did you become very aware of how intimate you two currently were. Shoulder to shoulder on your living room couch, dim lights cascading off your figures as the evening light grew dark. Wonwoo’s chest was just centimeters away from yours, which was heaving in and out at this point.

“I wouldn’t be rough with her. If I'm kissing her, I need to cherish her. I never waste my kisses.”

Were you dreaming? So far, none of this movie night seemed to be real, except for maybe the very fictional film you watched. Everything else felt just like a dream

But for some reason, you didn’t want to wake up.

With one last ghost of his fingertips, Wonwoo pinches your cheek. You wake up to an innocent seeming grin before watching him shoot up from the couch. You didn’t go after him though, you were still too stunned, too frozen to move.

Why was Jeon Wonwoo shaking you up so much?

…

Panic quickly overtook you.

With the amount of steps you took while pacing around the living room floor, you were convinced you had just walked a marathon. Your teeth pick at the skin of your lips, your fingers—lined with anxiety—fiddling with each other. Your eyes dart back to the clock. 7:49.

In about 5 minutes, Wonwoo would come home.

To say that lately, you’ve been on edge when it comes to your brother’s best friend, would be a grave understatement. One moment, he’s snug against your frame while playing video games, or telling you how good of a kisser he was while watching a tv drama. The next? He's busy convincing his best friend that nothing stood between you aside from the mere label of roommates. Wonwoo was making you go crazy. And so, you found yourself building a wall between the two of you, one brick at a time.

At first, you deemed the plan too harsh. But one thing was for certain.

You couldn’t let yourself fall in love with Jeon Wonwoo. Your brother’s best friend.

During the past weeks, you ate together less, hiding behind the lousy excuse of school assignments. You avoided his eyes every time you grazed his figure at the hall. You don’t know how you did it, but you managed to avoid contact with your roommate. After all, you needed to do all you could to get rid of these estranged feelings.

Your original plan today was to avoid your brother’s roommate, just as usual, but your escape route for the day had miraculously blown up in your face, with both Seungkwan and Vernon both canceling on you mere hours before you were about to head out the door. And with no back up plan at your side, you had nothing else to fall back to once Jeon Wonwoo came back home.

A click sounds from the front door, and you jolt back to reality. Shit.

The door slowly swings open, and a figure emerges. He brushes his hair—soaked from the crashing rain outside—away from his face. Your stubborn eyes couldn’t help but travel down, briefly locking with the translucency of his white shirt, which the rain water made sure not to miss. His eyes meet yours, and for some reason, you couldn’t seem to rip yours away from his grasp.

“Hey y/n!” He chirped with a smile, his deep voice rumbling in your ears. You hum a simple response, eyes mapping out your escape route to the stairs— which wasn’t at all in your favor. Your only path to freedom was the hallway before you, the hallway that Wonwoo also stood in front of. With his eyes still burning through your figure, a question jumps from his lips. “Have you eaten?”

His words led to realize that you had, in fact, not eaten dinner. You couldn’t reveal that, though.

“I’m not that hungry,” A bogus smile lifts your cheeks. You thought that that was enough, that your words were plenty for him to accept your rejection. But, of course, a loud, low grumble echos from your stomach, causing the both of you to glance down. Wonwoo glances back up at you, cocking an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Positive! Now, if you’ll excuse me- ” You chirp, two words occupying your brainspace. Run. NOW.

You dash to the end of the hallway, eyes glued to the tiled floor. Maybe, just maybe, if you looked away, Wonwoo would forget that you were there.

Clearly, though, he didn’t.

Just as your shoulder brushed past his, you felt a harsh tugging sensation at your wrist. You spring back, your gaze meeting a particularly soaked chest. After stalling your hardest for about 5 seconds, you finally glance up. Wonwoo’s eyes, however, had already been on you. Hell, you were convinced they never left your figure since he got home.

“Is something wrong?” Wonwoo grilled, eyes taking the time to map your figure. You swat your hand, resisting the temptation to stay right where you were. Right in front of him. “Just not feeling it, that’s all,”

“I’m not just talking about tonight,” The end of his sentence grew rough and gritted. His grasp on your wrist grew tighter as he pulled you closer to him. “You’ve been acting weird for a while now, you don’t think I haven’t noticed?”

Isn’t it obvious? You thought. I need to get away from you. Otherwise, I’ll fall in love with you even more.

“You’ve haven’t said a word to me in weeks and you’re always stuck up in your room. At first, I was fine with giving you space but now, it’s like you're avoiding me.”

You pick at your lips, averting his gaze.

“I just wanna know what’s going on, y/n.” His voice sounded weak, almost desperate. Your heart chipped, your stomach churning in guilt. You stayed silent, your arm growing heavy in his grasp. Wonwoo finally sighed, shoulder slumping forward as he let your wrist go, defeat ghosting over his back. “Okay then.”

It was as if a bullet shot through your chest, your heart crumbling into grains of sand. Your heart swelled up, overflowing with emotions you couldn’t even fathom or explain. Your head was spinning on the spot. A part of you wanted nothing more than to give in, to forget it all and throw yourself into his arms. A flood of images rushed to your mind; Mingyu, Mingyu with Wonwoo, and lastly, Wonwoo with you. The image of his smile staining your mind a little longer.

You couldn’t be with him. It could ruin everything.

Pivoting your feet, you take one glance at Wonwoo. His gaze finally began to drop from your figure. You gulp, a cog in your brain suddenly shifting.

Fuck it, None of that mattered anymore.

It was all a rush. Without your brain properly functioning, you pivot again. Your chin aligned with his chest and your eyes finally met his. Confidently. As you threw every conscious and careful thought away from you, you took a step forward. And another. Until the gap between your figures closed shut. He stares back blankly, his eyes glinting with a sense of the same need your body flared up with, the need that you denied yourself so many times. All because of whatever labels you two gave yourselves. With your stomach flipping in on itself, you close your eyes.

And kiss him.

…

You were off limits. Jeon Wonwoo knew that much.

Wonwoo never knew why you stood out so much every time he’d stay over at Mingyu’s house. At first, he concluded that it was because you were an innocent girl hanging out in a sea of rowdy teenage boys. With his calm demeanor, you seemed like a dream to hang out with, compared to the others. Next, he concluded that it was just a coincidence, and that he wasn’t actually seeing you constantly. While that was partly true; the fact that you weren’t actually in his sight constantly, in truth, you plagued his mind like a disease. The symptoms? Lovesickness and a mild headache.

His love sickness came into play every chance it got. Every time you’d show up during one of Mingyu’s get togethers, every time you would spare him a wave before he left to go back home. Each and every time you entered his life, he melted into a puddle.

However, no matter how smitten he was with you, there was a constant reminder of the one person standing in his way. His best friend, Kim Mingyu. It was beyond wrong to go for the little sister of his closest friend, that was almost a given. And with that, Wonwoo let both you, and the idea of being anything more than friends, go. Though thinking back, Wonwoo could never tell if his feelings truly left.

Nevertheless, all of that would be forgotten at his second year in University. With his first roommate bailing on him at the last minute, Wonwoo needed a new roommate, and fast. Luckily, you were just starting at the same university, and needed a roommate yourself. So, without missing a beat, Wonwoo called up Mingyu and packed his things.

It didn’t take long for his heart to settle back into his old feelings the moment you two moved in together. It was as instant as fireworks popping in the sky. As soon as he saw your cheeky, gummy smile, Wonwoo could tell he folded. He was falling for you all over again. And when you began to open up to his conversations and accept his greetings, Wonwoo couldn’t help but feel bright inside.

There were moments where he couldn’t control himself, he was the first to admit. Moments he may have taken his secret feelings out of hiding for a little longer than expected. Safe to say, anyone could tell that Wonwoo was in love with you.

Well, except for you.

At least that was what Wonwoo thought the moment you began to ignore him. Began to build a wall of anonymity between you. Wonwoo was left at a loss. He didn’t want to lose you again. And that was why, when you finally kissed him, and a flood of emotions rushed in, Wonwoo had no other choice but to kiss you back with all the might in his being. He finally understood those rough kiss scenes in those dramas you loved so much.

An arm snakes around your waist as Wonwoo clings onto your frame, pressing it snug against his own. He felt bad for the once dry fabric of your bedtime clothes, rubbing against his— which had been soaked from the rain outside— probably wasn’t a good idea. But ultimately, it didn’t matter. A free hand cups your jaw, Wonwoo’s knuckles running white from excitement, thrill. It didn’t matter where, Wonwoo just needed to hold you. Keep you in his touch so you wouldn’t run away again. Wonwoo felt a set of fingers cling onto the buttons of his dress shirt, butterflies setting off in his stomach at the realization that they were yours. You felt the same way, you never wanted to let go.

…

Your lips pluck apart as the two of you take deep breaths, chests heaving. Your eyes hold onto each other as if they were each other’s source of life. Right now, it seemed like that was very much the case. After collecting yourself, your eyes dip down to your feet—the embarrassment finally settling in. Your head was spinning. Was any of this real? Had you just locked lips with the man you’ve had feelings for, for your entire life? Your chest heaved, heart beating rapidly in Wonwoo’s presence. In Wonwoo’s trance.

“I-I,” You stutter out, still breathless from the kiss. “I can explain!”

Wonwoo only chuckled, the deep timber of his voice rumbling in his chest. “What’s with the switch up? I thought you hated me.”

Shocked, you look up. “What? No! I could never hate you!” Your fingers leave his side, meeting in front of you, fiddling with each other. “I just… didn’t know what to do. I was conflicted. I’ve liked you since we were kids, but I couldn’t do anything about it because-”

“-of Mingyu, right?” Wonwoo finished your sentence. Your eyes widen. “Yeah, that’s exactly it. How’d you know?”

Wonwoo booped your nose with his pointer. “I felt the same way about you, dummy. Could you really not tell?”

Instinctively, you jab at his chest, taking note of how firm it felt under your fist. Jesus, could he be anymore perfect? You turn your head, averting his beautiful gaze. “You didn’t even tell me!”

“Should I have made it more clear? I was being quite obvious.”

Your mind wanders back to the past week, where various moments managed to send your mind spinning. They were all planned. Wonwoo wasn’t playing with you, he was simply showing you, demonstrating to you how he felt. And your foolish mind decided to run away. You were glad you couldn’t run far; running from him would’ve been a mistake you would never recover from.

You blush, though you couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment, his flustering existence, or all of the above. You clear your throat, eyes wandering aimlessly. “So… what do we do now?”

“Well, if you're comfortable with it…” Wonwoo pulled you against his chest, both arms snaking around your hips. “I think we can forget about your brother for a while.”

You pick at your lips.

Wonwoo’s palm hugs your cheek. “Can I be your boyfriend, y/n?”

You smile, leaning into the warmth of his palm. “I think you already know my answer, Jeon Wonwoo.”

“Mm, care to remind me?” With his free hand covering your other cheek, Wonwoo teasingly pulls you in once more.

This second kiss seemed much more rushed, much more hungry. Your hands hang onto his neck, fingers gripping onto his collar tighter than before. Your chest heaves faster, breath hitching between each prolonged kiss. Wonwoo’s breaths grow restless, a low toned groan escaping his lips as his brows furrow.

Just for this moment, you could be free.

…

12 days. You had about 12 days of complete peace.

It was the stuff of fairytales. He was a fairytale. Jeon Wonwoo was the best boyfriend you could ask for. It didn’t matter how much you two saw each other, being roommates didn’t stop you from having such magical dates outside of your apartment. Cafe, bookstores and libraries, parks, you name it; he took you there. Though, your favorite type of dates had to be after classes, when the two of you would drive out to the edge of the city, wait for the sky to paint black, and have a late night picnic under a blanket of stars. Despite how much he loved sleeping in, he never forgot to make you breakfast every morning. He drove you to school and back, exchanged book recommendations with you, and knew just how to comfort you when you couldn’t seem to swim in a sea of blue. Jeon Wonwoo was a dream, and this time, you never wanted to wake up.

The only thing that itched at the back of your brain, that kept everything from being perfect, was that everything was a secret. To your brother, most definitely, but you kept a low profile about it around school. Or well, you tried to. But there were some days where you truly couldn’t resist sneaking in a few kisses in between classes. However, when it came to your brother, it was all a secret. It was safer that way.

A faint ping! jumps from your phone. You pull out the device. Your eyes graze the screen, meeting an image of a cat stuffie, and possibly the most gut wrenching message you had read. Ever.

Wonwoo <3 [5:30]: This cat stuffie reminded me of you, so I bought it ,,^._.^,,

Wonwoo <3 [5:31]: Baby, at least like the message, I worked so hard on that cat emoji :(

You needed to punch something. You were dying from his cuteness, all while the word baby stirred something in your stomach. You opted to reply instead.

y/n [5:34]: ur so cute, yk that?

Wonwoo <3 [5:34] Please use real words y/n

y/n [5:34]: it's not my fault ur drier than a desert >:(

y/n [5:35]: luv u <3 ill be home soon!

You close your phone. His texting could use a little work, you thought as the voice of Seungkwan perked in your ears. You turn to the sound of his voice, watching him and Vernon sit down with their trays of food.

“You could've gotten your food earlier if you’d stop texting your man for once,” Seungkwan’s voice by the last few words grew cold and sour, just like that overpriced lemonade he sipped. Your eyes reached the stars, a tired ugh leaving your lips. “He’s working on his texting skills. Let him live, Seungkwan.”

“Ugh alright, fine.” Seungkwan tipped his head back. “You’re lucky you two are adorable.”

“Dude, weren’t you the one who wanted them together in the first-”

“Who’s side are you even on??” Seungkwan whined, to which Vernon only cocked an eyebrow. Seungkwan jabbed his shoulder, and Vernon turned his attention to you. “I’m happy for you, y/n.”

A grateful response was about to seep from your lips, however, you couldn’t help but notice a glint of worry in his eyes. You tilted your head and Vernon continued. “...I really am, but what about Mingyu?”

You steal a sip from Seungkwan’s sour lemonade, wincing. “We’re keeping it a secret for now.”

“For how long, though?” Vernon piqued, tone laced with worry. “It’s gonna be hard keeping this up for a while.”

It was as if Vernon’s words sweeped the words from your tongue. He was right. How long were you gonna really manage this? Just then another ping! pops from your side. You check it, expecting it to be another gut wrenching, dry text from your boyfriend. Instead, you receive something much, much worse.

MIDgyu [5:53]: You’re coming to the game, right?

You almost spat out the lemonade.

…

Wonwoo’s head was spinning in agitation, and it was for a multitude of reasons. The cheers of the crowd, the squeaks of the player’s shoes, the discombobulating boom of the buzzer, it all rattled with his entire being. And yet, what got on his nerves the most, was that he was sitting away from you.

He watched as he fiddled with his thumbs; the game didn’t really matter to him anymore. He only looked up every time Soonyoung— the one he did end up going with— hollered at a goal. It definitely wasn’t hard to notice. At least someone was ecstatic to be there. Wonwoo, however, couldn’t quite say the same.

Wonwoo knew all the reasons why you attended the game separately, and all the reasons why you couldn’t attend together. This was Mingyu’s game, your brother, and his best friend’s chance to shine. It was too risky to even step foot in that gym together. He looked over at you, sitting across the gym with your friends, laughing at something Vernon probably said. And besides, he came to cheer him on as a friend.

He knew all of that, so why did his heart hurt just a little bit?

Soonyoung glanced over, curious. “You good, man?”

Wonwoo couldn’t stop looking at you. “Yeah, for sure.”

…

The night was almost over.

That’s what you told yourself over and over again. The only thing that kept you sane. Panic was coursing through your veins, trying your hardest not to slip up in any way you thought possible. You loved your brother, but this was getting insane. Your sigh evolved into an irritated groan as you came back from rejecting your 20th invitation to grab a bite to eat after the game. You whip out your phone, suddenly all alone. Why did Seungkwan and Vernon have to leave already?

Just greet Mingyu and leave. You can still meet Wonwoo outside.

“Hey!” A voice ghosted your frame. You turn around stunned, but you have enough time to compose yourself before the voice continues. “Y/n, was it? Mingyu’s sister?”

You smile, eyes curling upwards to hide your anguish. “Yeah!”

The stranger stretched a hand out. “I’m Lee Chan! Nice to meet you!”

You could only hum a response before diving deep into horrid small talk. Judging by his jersey, hair soaked in sweat, and a water bottle in hand, you could tell he had just played. Your mind wanders aimlessly as you tune out his words. He didn’t seem harmless, so it didn’t really matter.

“So, I was wondering,” Chan suddenly starts, and you jolt back to reality. “Would you like to go get something to eat with me?” He jerks a thumb behind him, where your brother— and Wonwoo— sat.

Wonwoo’s frame appeared in your peripheral vision. Seeing him so far away, paying no attention to you; your heart sank just a little bit. Though, it wasn’t the physical distance that got to you, it was the reason why the distance was there.

Why did it hurt to keep it all a secret?

You smile, trying your best to let the athlete down gently. “Er, no thanks.”

“Oh come on!” Chan fought, a hand lightly gripping your wrist, though your reflexes were too slow to pull away in time. He was really starting to piss you off. “Just one date?”

Your brows furrowed. Tugging away from him, but it was no use. “I-”

“She told you her answer, didn’t she?” Another voice piqued behind you.

…

“Your sister’s single, right?” Chan’s voice irked Wonwoo’s ears. The athlete nudged Mingyu’s shoulder before taking a big swig from his water bottle. “I think I’m gonna ask her out!”

“Sure, buddy!” Mingyu shrugged, slapping Chan’s back before watching his teammate strut towards you. Wonwoo couldn’t help but scoff at Mingyu’s response.

A spark lit in the pit of Wonwoo’s stomach. No, you can’t ask her out, asshole. A sigh leaped from his chest, attempting to cool off the sparks popping on his skin— though it wouldn’t work. Wonwoo felt his skin burn, the blood beneath it boiling. He tapped his foot, his eyes never leaving Chan’s frame—which made its way to you so effortlessly, so shamelessly. Wonwoo wanted nothing more than to leap out of his seat and run to you.

His girlfriend.

Mingyu nudges Wonwoo’s shoulder, chuckling. “Something wrong, big guy?”

Wonwoo’s eyes grew narrow for a second, but he quickly collected himself. “All good.” He muttered with a half-assed smile. One glance at his best friend was a reminder that shot him right through the heart.

You were Wonwoo’s, but he could never prove it. He could never tell him.

“No seriously, what’s wrong? You’re quiet, yeah, but never this quiet.”

Wonwoo looked over to you, towering beneath Chan’s obnoxious one. He watched you smile at him, chuckling at a joke of his that probably wasn’t even funny. His jaw tightened, his knuckles growing white under the pressure. It was getting harder to compose himself.

Your friend’s flirting with my girlfriend in front of me, and I can’t do shit about it. That's what's wrong.

But he could never say it out loud.

Chan throws a hand on your wrist, not seeming to let go. Your eyes, painted with fear, glance at the floor. A flame ignited in Wonwoo’s stomach, steam practically seething from his ears. His hands ball up into fists. He didn’t bother to take one last glance at Mingyu before shooting up from his seat and doing what he should’ve done way before; go see you.

…

“What’s your problem man?” Chan’s voice echoes in the now empty gym. Under the pressure of Wonwoo’s firm grim, Chan finally lets go of your wrist. You hold it against your chest as you, habitually, stand behind Wonwoo. Chan glares at the two of you, turning to Wonwoo again. “What, are you like, her boyfriend or something?”

Your heart stung at the word boyfriend. You grew pale, unable to respond as panic washed over your face. Your heart leaped from your chest, clogging your throat. All your measly body could do was part its lips as it turned around to face Wonwoo, anticipating his answer.

His name jumped out of your throat instinctively. Wonwoo stared down at the athlete, his words leaving as a hiss. “Take the hint, already. She doesn’t wanna go out with you.”

“Alright, I get it.” Chan threw his hands up “Don’t need to get so pissed, dude.”

Your world was spinning. Fear, panic, anxiety; it all overtook you. Your mind was in multiple places at once. However, you couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit grateful for Wonwoo saving your ass— you weren’t sure if this Chan guy was capable of backing down. And yet, what you felt the most was the bitter taste of guilt; guilt for making your boyfriend feel all this anguish in the first place, making him keep the two of you a secret. After darting back and forth from the athlete and your secret boyfriend, your eyes finally stay on Wonwoo.

“Next time, think before you decide to hit on someone else’s girl.”

Your eyes widened, but you had no time to relish in your emotions as Wonwoo tugs at your arm, and marches out the door.

…

For the rest of the day you were silent. The air was tense in your apartment. The two of you uttered little to no words during dinner, and as the sun tucked itself into its blanket of midnight sky, the two of you barely gave the other a glance. You were overwhelmed, flowing to the brim with mixed emotions. You needed just a sliver of peace.

It wasn’t until you retired back to your own bed—the first time you did so in the days you two started dating—did Wonwoo speak to you again. You whip the door open, a little faster than you expected, and Wonwoo stands before you, head hanging low. His eyes finally meet yours, and you began to melt in his clutch once again. You couldn’t stay mad at him. He scratches the nape of his neck. “Can we talk?”

The two of you resume on the edge of your bed. He keeps a safe distance, only his pinky finger innocently grazing yours. “I’m really sorry, y/n. I lashed out at that guy who didn’t know any better. My own dumb feelings got in the way, and I probably ruined the secret. You have every right to be mad at me-”

As Wonwoo rambled on and on about how he was in the wrong, your mind could only think the complete opposite. After all, you didn’t want to hide Wonwoo anymore. You simply couldn't. Jeon Wonwoo meant too much to you, swelled your heart up with joy that you couldn’t fathom hiding him in the dark. With a huff, you finally come to a conclusion; you need to tell Mingyu. It didn’t matter if you’d come out the other end dead or with a missing limb. You loved Wonwoo too much to keep him a secret. Your mind couldn’t piece together the right words, so you collect his lips in a kiss.

Jeon Wonwoo wasn’t sure why you’d forgiven him so quickly, but the sweet taste of your lips were enough for him to melt, kissing you back.

“Do you think we could stop hiding this? Hiding us?” Wonwoo asks gently as he pressed your forehead against his, his voice toasting your skin. You smile, your giggles sending butterflies to Wonwoo’s stomach. “Yeah, I think we can.”

Grinning like a fool, Wonwoo pulls you into another kiss, his weight and the momentum of his movements toppling you onto the bed. One hand cupped your cheek, while the other planted itself beside you, pinning you against the bed. Your arms cling onto his neck, toying with the tag of his shirt as Wonwoo leaned further into you, his kisses leaving your mouth and trailing down your jaw. A warm sensation clouded between your legs.

His hand left your cheek, resuming at the hem of your shirt. After playing with the fabric, a finger slipped in; and then another, until his hand ghosted your bare waist. His touch sent shockwaves through your veins. Your breaths grew shallow as Wonwoo pulled apart from you briefly, his lips meeting your ear.

“May I?” His words didn’t reach past a whisper.

Face flushed, you grip tighter onto his shoulders. “Wonwoo,” You breathed.

“That’s not an answer, darling,” Wonwoo rasped. Your head was too heated, so you only managed to nod before Wonwoo snuck both his hands under your shirt. His fingers trailed up and up your body until he reached your tits. Wonwoo’s touch sent a whimper from your lips. Wonwoo twitched, his head dipping down to trail more kissed down your neck. His hands palmed your chest, pinching at the nipple sending more shockwaves to your spine. You arch your back, his name taking up your mind.

Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo

The man taking up your mind tugged at your shirt, his eyes narrowing in hunger. You obeyed, lifting your arms as he pulled the fabric over your head. Within seconds, your pants also escaped your frame, leaving you bare, with just your panties on. Wonwoo pulls away from you, his eyes scanning your figure.

“You’re beautiful, y/n.” Wonwoo exhaled.

You pull him into another kiss, still hungry for his taste. Though it was also to hide your flustered face from his smooth words. You adjust your legs, brushing against a particular hardness tenting beneath his pants. Wonwoo groaned against your lips, setting your skin on fire. His muscles tense, and you send a teasing hand to palm his hardness. However, Wonwoo swiftly grabbed your wrist, throwing it above your head; holding you hostage.

“Not yet, darling” He grunted, eyeing you. “I’m not finished tasting you...” A hand resumed on your tit, making your squirm. “...Savouring you”

You mewl at the familiar words. He continued peppering kisses down your neck, then chest, and finally to your stomach. All while leaving bite marks here and there, claiming you. His voice rumbles against your skin. “You have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming about this. About you.”

It was as if your skin was a minefield, with how much it flared up at his words. You collect yourself, turning bold. “Shall we reenact your dreams, then?”

A glint of passion suddenly flared in his eyes, his hand roaming around in search for any way to make you moan. His lips arrive at your chest, and a hand grips onto your breast, lewd noises escaping your lips. You grip at his hair, which only fanned the fire as the other hand— which was already stationed between your legs— began to move. You didn’t even know when you had opened your legs.

Your core was much more than warm at this point. It was hot, steamy, pounding. But you couldn’t acknowledge it, not with your head spinning. Wonwoo’s fingers pressed further into you, playing with your folds through the fabric of your panties. Wonwoo chuckled. “You’re soaking, y/n.” He hooked his finger onto the fabric, pulling it aside in one swoop. He hissed. “And it’s all mine.”

One last whimper sent him flying off the edge. Ripping off your panties, Wonwoo slipped a finger into your folds. Your wetness sloshing between his fingertips. You let out a moan, biting your own fingers to contain the sound. Your head was spiralling, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Wonwoo was hitting all the right spots. Dirty noises began to bounce on the room’s walls as Wonwoo's fingers dug deeper into yours. He slipped another one in, spreading your core apart. You gripped the bed sheets, your hips gaining a mind of their own as they began to ride his fingers.

“My darling is so needy.” Wonwoo growled against your ear, making you shiver. His pace grew faster as your noises grew louder. With the pad of his thumb, he circled around your clit. You arched, the knot in your stomach tightening with each thrust of his hand. Your lips reached his jaw, peppering sloppy kisses on his skin. Anything to hold you down to reality. Wonwoo kissed your temple. “That’s it, darling. Cum on me.”

And you did. Your juices flowed out of your core, coating his palm. He brought his hand up, his eyes never leaving yours as he licked his palm clean; the reason why the warmth beneath your stomach never truly left.

Panting, you finally gain the strength to scan his frame, which was still fully clothed— much to your dismay. Your hands fly at his shirt’s hem. With his help, you pull it off, exposing his toned chest. You wanted to gawk, but you couldn’t bear to wait any longer. The thirst penetrating your core was killing you.

Impatient fingers tug at his pants— the tent beneath its fabric never leaving your sight. You wanted him, no, needed him in you. Wonwoo caught wind of your yearning stare, smiling as he unbuckled his pants. With one last kiss, he presses his forehead against yours. His voice reached back to a whisper. “Tell me what you want, baby. I’ll give you anything.”

You whimper, your sound driving Wonwoo crazy. “I need you, Wonwoo. I need you in me.”

Without thinking, your hips grind your raw core against his underwear’s fabric. Now, Wonwoo was the one filling the room with his groans. You felt his dick twitch beneath the fabric as he reached forward, getting a condom. A string of curses leave his lips as you smile at the realization that he was breaking his composure because of you. Opening the silver packaging, Wonwoo pulls his cock out, your breath hitching.

You gaped at his size, eyes darting between his head and his, well, head. Wonwoo’s fingers ghosted your core once again, sending more shivers down your skin. With the plastic coating it, Wonwoo lines up his dick in between your folds, the contact igniting a flame that never went out to begin with. “Are you sure you want this, princess? We could always-”

“Wonwoo, I need you to fuck me right now or so help me god.” You blurted out, catching both you and your boyfriend off guard. He smiles, kissing the knuckles of your hand, making your stomach flutter. “As you wish, princess.”

Wonwoo finally thrusted into you, his girth grazing every inch of your walls. Your back arched, a moan bursting from your lungs. Wonwoo’s groans filled your ears with each— painfully slow —thrust. Your walls clamped onto his cock, holding him so well. His thrusts grew faster, a hand dipping down to your core, while another hand landed back on your breast. He fondled your nipple, which peaked from arousal— a sight that made Wonwoo twitch in your core. His other hand began slow circles on your clit once again, and you were convinced you were seeing stars.

Sounds of wet sloshes echoed, but they were no match for your booming noises and callings of each other’s names. Your nails dug deeper into his back, as Wonwoo’s thrusts grew more sloppy. He dug his dick further into you, making you squirm.

“I think I’m gonna-” You couldn’t bother to finish.

“I know, darling. Let’s come together, hm?”

Another mewl escapes. You hated how respectful he was.

Wonwoo thrusts one last time, and the two of you reach your climaxes. White fluid pools between your legs, and Wonwoo pulls out. Breathless, he pulls out before plopping beside you on the bed. Finally getting a chance to breathe, you look over to him, smiling. “Woah.”

Wonwoo snickers. “Really? Woah? That’s what you’re going with?”

You punch his shoulder, though it was too weak for him to even notice. “Hey! Don't blame me, I can’t think straight! Someone just fucked my brains out, cut me some slack!”

Wonwoo pulls you in for a hug. “I love you, y/n.”

You smile against his chest. “I love you more, Wonnie.”

…

“Care to explain?” The voice of your brother echoed in your apartment living room the next morning. You and Wonwoo sat in front of the aggravated Kim Mingyu, who had just found out the truth after his teammate spilled the beans at practice earlier that morning. Your exact fear was accumulating in front of your eyes. You hated to admit it, but you missed your cheerful brother. He was loads better than this new, grumpy Mingyu.

“Just sit down, okay? I’ll explain everything!” You flare up, catching the guy’s attention. Slowly, Mingyu inches down, until he reaches your eye level. “Yes, Wonwoo and I have been dating for some time now-”

“Why didn’t you guys tell me? Why’d you have to keep it a secret?”

You heaved a sigh and Wonwoo took over. “‘Cause we knew you’d react just like this. I know its wrong to date your sister just because we’re friends, but…”

Wonwoo glances back at you. “I love her too much.”

He turns his attention back to your brother, who was suddenly quiet. “I’m not willing to give her up anymore. So, if you’re unhappy with us, I don’t know what to tell you.”

The room goes quiet, you and Mingyu both stunned at Wonwoo’s confession. Mingyu looks at the both of you before letting out a sigh. He then turns to you. “Look, I admit, this’ll take some getting used to, but if you’re that serious about each other then… I guess I can learn to live with it. Just, no more secrets, okay?”

Your face brightens immediately, jumping towards your now non-secret boyfriend. You grew ecstatic, jumping for joy like a little kid. You turn to your brother, grinning like crazy.

Mingyu couldn’t help but grin at the sight of you. He turns to Wonwoo, jabbing a finger at him. “I know you’re my best friend, but if you ever try to hurt her, I will end you. Got it?”

Wonwoo glances down at you, curled perfectly in his arms. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

…

5K notes · View notes

starry-bi-sky · 9 months

Text

tick tock

Highkey dedicating this to @watercolour-carnations bc they sent me an ask about my 'danny is thomas wayne' au and singlehandedly revitalized my brainrot for it. Apparently the quickest way to a starry's heart is through their ask box

Now posted on ao3 under the name 'dniwer eht kcolc'!

In hindsight, hosting a science exhibit was probably not the best idea that Bruce has ever. This wasn't even one of Bruce's galas and, yet he was still attending because it gave him the opportunity to scope out any potential rogues (or henchmen).

Damian was by his side, and Tim was on the other side of the room, inspecting some of the other inventions under the prospect of gaining new hires for R&D at WE. Something that was not entirely false. Bruce could always use new, bright minds working to make Gotham a better place.

He was, particularly, eyeing up one moderately-sized invention that a woman with cutting blue eyes and stark white hair had covered with a white sheet. An interesting choice when everyone else had already revealed their own inventions. Drifting closer with Damian, he smiles charmingly at the scientist when they lock eyes.

"And what is this interesting contraption?" He asks, looking over the sheet as if it was the invention itself and not what was underneath.

The woman curled purple-painted fingers around the sheet, yanking it down to reveal a machine that looks like a mix of a jukebox and a grandfather clock. A long wire was attached to it, and a strange, blinking, circlet-like device connected on the other end.

Bruce's brows rose considerably, and he could sense Damian's eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"This is my Holographic Memory Machine -- the name is still a work in progress -- it's a memory machine meant to allow anyone to relive their memories right in front of them, even the ones they don't remember." The woman says with a smile, her name card reads 'Dr. Casey W. Kairos'. He's never heard of her before. An out-of-townie, perhaps?

"Interesting." Bruce's hands fold behind his back and he looks down at his disinterested son, and then back up to Dr. Kairos. It sounded harmless, but even a pencil could be harmless until enough force was put into it. "How does that work?"

Dr. Kairos walks over and holds up the strange circlet device, "The user wears this headband. It scans their brainwaves and then plays a memory of their choice right in front of them like a hologram, including any voices that came with it." She explains, showing it off to Bruce and Damian. "Would either of you like to try it? The HMM has been tested and it is completely safe."

Damian scoffs and turns to him, "This is a waste of time, father," He says, "let's move on."

"Oh, don't be like that, Dames." Bruce smiles genially, placing a hand on his son's shoulder and squeezing it. It reminds him of when his father used to do the exact same thing, and he turns to Dr. Kairos. "I can try it, Doctor."

Kairos smiles widely, looking incredibly pleased. "Come stand here then, Mr. Wayne. I can get the HMM up and working." She gestures to a spot on the floor within the circlet's range, and Bruce goes and does as told.

"Standing around and looking pretty is my specialty, Doctor Kairos." He jokes as she gets the device situated on his head. It sits on his forehead snugly, and tucks behind his ears. Kairos snorts and turns to get the machine activated.

"Father." Damian says, indignant and scowling. His arms crossed over his chest petulantly. Bruce chuckles at him.

"The Doctor said it was perfectly safe, Damian." He admonishes lightly, wagging a finger at him. "I trust the good lady to know what she's doing." Not really, but he'd rather test it out on himself if it was unsafe.

Thirty seconds passed with Dr. Kairos working on flicking on the HMM, and when it came alive it came with a low hum and a distinct, ticking like noise. "Ah, there we go." She hums, stepping away. "It's up and working, Mister Wayne. Just think of a memory and let the HMM do the rest."

"Thank you, Doctor." Bruce nods at her, and then tries to think of what to let the machine show. Nothing that would give away his identity as Batman, of course not. Nothing incriminating.

He looks to Damian, who still looked very unhappy with him. Perhaps a memory of one of his boys in the manor? Or a Brucie Wayne moment that everyone's seen. His brows furrow in thought. One of his speeches?

...No. No, he has an idea.

Immediately, the HMM begins to hum louder, the ticking drowned out by the sound of its fans kicking in. It starts drawing the attention of the other ongoers, and Damian steps to Bruce's side as a crowd begins to form.

"What is that thing?"

"What's it doing?"

"Is it safe?"

Hushed whispers scatter around them as more and more people abandon the other stalls in favor of seeing whatever spectacle was happening. Tim appears as well, pushing his way through the crowd and situating himself by Damian and Bruce.

"What's going on?" He whispers with a frown, looking between Bruce and Damian.

Damian hmphs, "Father is trying out this woman's 'Memory Machine'."

Just when Bruce is starting to think the machine doesn't work, he hears a sound that silences the spectators. A piano note. A singular note, followed by another, and another. Right before Bruce's eyes, the air shimmers, and a projection of his father sitting at the grand piano appears before him.

His breath hitches in his throat. He remembers this. He remembers this piece. It was father's favorite.

Damian and Tim are stiff at his side, and Bruce hears the crowd gasp.

There, sitting on the floor at the bench, is Bruce himself at six years old. He's resting his arms on it, and leaning his head on his arms with a look of pure adoration -- did he really look like that? -- aimed at his father.

There's no talking between them, a content silence as Thomas Wayne fills the air with his piano playing. That is-- until he stops midway through the piece, fingers stopping the keys with a abrupt jerk.

Thomas laughs, quiet and full of love, and little Bruce picks his head up with an affronted frown. "Why'd you stop? I like listening to you play."

"I know you do." Thomas says, his voice is as soothing as Bruce remembers it to be. The memory twists to look at little Bruce with a blinding smile, as if he was looking at his whole world. It's the first time in decades that Bruce has seen his father smiling like-- like that. His eyes involuntarily sting.

"But how can you hear so well when you're all the way down there?" Thomas shifts, and pats an open space on the bench. "Come sit up here, Boo. I can teach you to play."

(Thomas Wayne was always fond of pet names, he had plenty of them for Bruce, and he used them at every opportunity.)

Little Bruce perks up, "Really?" He grins, and then clambers into the bench. His father's arms wrap around him.

The voices fade as the memory slowly begins to collapse, and Bruce feels a spike of panic in his heart before the memory is replaced by another one.

He's younger, probably four years old, being sprayed down by a hose by his father. Little Bruce is squealing with laughter, trying to swat the water away like a fly, and his clothes are drenched.

Thomas is laughing as well, wearing a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He looks like he just came home from a business meeting. Bruce always thought he was old when he was little. But at four years old, Thomas Wayne is only a little over twenty. Barely an adult. He is twenty-four when he dies. He was so young.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" Little Bruce squeals, trying to run out of the line of fire, but Thomas Wayne has a sharp eye, and the hose in his hands follow Bruce no matter where he goes.

Until finally Thomas drops the hose and runs towards Bruce, who is trying to recover from being sprayed down with ice cold water. Thomas reaches him before he has time to move, and scoops him up in his arms.

He is laughing loudly and boisterously, spinning them both around as Bruce clings to him for dear life, laughing with him. The memory fades away, and Bruce feels like there are hands around his throat trying to choke him.

A new one shows up, one he doesn't remember at all. His father is younger than before, a teenager, and he's holding a tiny bundle in his arms. He looks like he's on the verge of tears, hunched over it like a shield.

Someone, a girl with gothic attire, peers over his shoulder. "Gosh, Tom, a baby? That's a lot of responsibility." She says, dark-lipstick lips painted downwards in a frown. "And right after you've disowned your parents too?"

Another boy looks around Thomas with a similar frown and an uncertain look, "Yeah man, I'm with Sam on this one -- for once. You don't even have anywhere to live."

Thomas doesn't look like he's even paying attention, utterly smitten with the baby -- its himself, Bruce realizes -- he's cradling. "Look at him though, guys," he breathes, "he's so tiny. Have you seen his little watercolor eyes?"

(Watercolor eyes. Bruce had long since forgotten about that nickname his father gave him. hearing him say it is like a punch to his stomach.)

"You named him Bruce?"

Bruce huffs to himself, an involuntary smile twitching at his mouth as the memory dips again and cycles through another memory he recognizes.

The memories it shows are sporadic, with no chronological order to them other than each and every one is a happy one.

Bruce playing piano with his father.

Bruce stargazing with his father.

Bruce being carried on his father's shoulders.

Bruce getting ready for a gala with his father.

Bruce in the kitchen helping his dad make breakfast (there's pancake flour smeared on his cheek).

Bruce making a snowman with his father.

An apology between Bruce and his father in the form of a piano duet.

There are even a few memories he doesn't remember. Some of them are when he's old enough to, but many are when he's a baby. Some are before his father was adopted by the Waynes, when the only thing on their backs was a raggedy backpack and an oversized sweatshirt, and Bruce's baby blanket. And some are after, where he's sitting in an antique rocking chair bottle feeding Bruce with a look of sheer adoration on his face.

That look never seems to go away, ever, in any of the memories.

Finally, the HMM settles on a final memory, one that makes Bruce's blood run cold and snaps him out of his nostalgic revelry. His father is getting ready in his room, and Bruce comes barreling in with his own suit-and-tie.

"Dad! Dad! Dad!" He chants, running to Thomas, who whirls around and picks him up seamlessly. They spin twice before Thomas settles in front of the mirror, Bruce on his hip as he adjusts his tie with one hand.

"Yes, boo?" Thomas grins, wide-splitting with his shock-blue eyes looking at Bruce in the reflection. He and Bruce have the same eyes. It's shocking how much they look like each other, now that Bruce was older.

Little Bruce makes a dramatic face, a look that only lasts a few seconds before he remembers his excitement. He wiggles in Thomas' arms, "You gotta hurry up! Or we'll be late to the movie!"

Bruce's fingers dig into his palm, and he can vaguely feel his sons' looking at him. There's a feeling of impending doom square in the center of his lungs, and he forces himself to look on.

Thomas laughs, and nuzzles Bruce's cheek. "The movie isn't going anywhere, chum, I promise." He says, before setting him down. Little Bruce pouts, his lower lip sticking out. "I know how much you've been looking forward to this."

"Can you help me with my tie then?" Bruce asks, and looks at his own, sloppily done tie around his neck. "I can never get it right."

And, of course, Thomas Wayne kneels down to redo it. He always did everything Bruce asked or wanted. He measures it, loops it, and then knots the tie perfectly.

"There." He says, and smoothes out Bruce's little jacket, smiling in adoration. "Now go play, I'll call you when it's time to go."

And Bruce does just that, running out of the room with a yell of, "You better promise!"

"I promise!" Thomas yells back, laughing at his son as he turns back to the mirror.

The memory shimmers, and changes to as they're leaving. And then and there does Bruce call it quits. His eyes are glistening, his tears nearly blinding him with the swelling, overwhelming grief in his heart. He looks away, and tries to find Doctor Kairos.

(He doesn't see her switch something on the side of the machine. There is no noticeable difference in the machine, but on the inside a time rune starts to glow.)

"I think I'm done here, Doctor." He says once he can find his voice without it shaking. He can't hide the full crack and tremble laying beneath it, but at least he doesn't cry. He's almost forgotten that he had a silent audience.

Doctor Kairos nods and steps forward, reaching for the headband. "The memories should cut off once I take this off, Mister Wayne." She says, and fiddles with it for a moment. Behind her, the memory of himself and his father are walking outside. "I hope that wasn't too much for you?"

(The ticking of the machine grows louder, and the memory glitches.)

"No, no." Bruce assures with a smile that wasn't all Brucie Wayne yet. He looks down when he feels Damian's hand curl around his, and his son leans into his side. His smile softens, and he presses Damian closer. His other arm finds itself over Tim's shoulders as well, pressing him to his side.

"It was fine. Actually, it was an honor to be the first to try out your memory machine. I'm sure it will help many people." He tells her. She smiles slyly, and slides the headband off his head.

"That's what I'm hoping for, Mister Wayne." Doctor Kairos places the headband onto the table. The memory hasn't disappeared, Bruce notes with a furrow of his brows. And the audio has muffled slightly.

"I thought you said that the memory would cut off when the headband was off?" He asks. Kairos looks at him, and then behind her at the memory. She frowns.

"It should have--"

Little Bruce suddenly frowns, and looks away from Thomas. "Do you hear that?"

Bruce frowns. "I don't remember this." That wasn't in his memory. They just went straight to Monarch Theater without any issue.

Thomas looks down at his son, "What noise?" He asks, squeezing Bruce's hand. His head cranes, as if trying to hear whatever noise Bruce was hearing.

"That ticking sound." Bruce's frown deepens, "It sounds like your clock, dad."

Thomas' immediately frowns, looking so strikingly like Bruce that he marvels for a moment. He looks around as well. "...You're right. I hear it too." He steps a little closer to Bruce, his hand tightening around his.

A sense of unease fills Bruce's lungs. "What's going on?" He asks, taking a step away from the memory. This was different. This isn't his memory.

"I'm not sure." Doctor Kairos says, and her unsurety sounds so practiced and calm that Bruce's suspicion levels to her immediately. His boys look at her too with the same unease. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

She strides around the memory to the side of the machine just as a gold symbol appears on the ground. It looks like a giant roman clock, and a loud, clunky ticking fills the room.

The memories see it too, and Bruce's heart drops to his feet as he and the rest of the crowd back away from it. "Dad, what is that?!" Little Bruce exclaims, a look of fear morphing across his face as he suddenly clings to his dad's leg.

Thomas looks pale, looking at his feet and gripping little Bruce to him protectively. "I don't-- I don't know, Bruce."

(A memory that Bruce doesn’t have is his father arguing with a man named Clockwork. He does not see the man named Clockwork all but beg Thomas not to go out tonight.)

("Does something happen to Bruce?" His father asks the ghost.)

("No," the man says, "but--")

("But nothing, Clockwork." Thomas, once Danny, says firmly. "My son has been looking forward to this all week. I'm not going to crush his hopes by changing my mind last minute.")

("Thomas, please.")

("Look, if something happens tonight, I will handle it, okay?" Thomas assures him, a hand atop Clockwork's shoulder with a small smile. "I promise.")

(And then he leaves, Clockwork defeated in his wake.)

(Clockwork has seen this boy grow up from the shadows, and now he can do nothing to stop his fate like he once did before.)

The strange, clock-like circle, something intrinsically magic, begins to glow. The minute and hour hands tick faster and faster. Little Bruce holds onto his father like a lifeline, and Thomas Wayne crouches down to hold his son tighter, protectively.

Bruce Wayne turns away just as the light grows blinding, tucking Tim and Damian into his chest like a human shield. There is yelling and screams as the crowd tries to stampede away from it.

Bruce has no idea what this light will do, but he'd rather die than let his sons get hurt.

The light burns his eyelids even when he isn't facing it. And when it dies without even a burn across his back, Bruce slowly unfurls. His hands stay on his sons' shoulders, keeping them close to him, and he peers over his shoulder.

There on his knees, is Thomas Wayne, curled protectively around eight year old Bruce Wayne, much like Bruce had been. Bruce holds his breath, and his sons slowly unfurl themselves as well and peer around him.

Thomas Wayne is frozen in place for one second, two seconds, three. And then he begins to move. First, the tension drains out of his shoulders, and his head jerks, as if surprised that nothing has happened.

He looks up, his eyes open, and he and Bruce make eye contact. Bruce cannot breathe, and he cannot believe the sight before him. It's just the memory machine breaking. (Doctor C.W Kairos is nowhere to be found.)

And then recognition flickers in his father's face as his panting slows and quiets. His head tilts to the side like a fawn's, a familiar wrinkle appearing before his brows.

"Bruce?"

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp crossover #danny fenton is thomas wayne au #dftw au #oh my gfod this is so long #watercolour-carnations how does it feel to have singlehandedly revitalized my brainrot over this au #the fastest way to starry's heart is through their askbox #anyways i was thinking about this the whole time #the memory with clockwork was SUPPOSED to be seen by bruce honestly!#but i couldnt write it in properly #imo at least #io had to check the wordcount on this and this is THREE THOUSAND WORDS #OOPS I ACCIDENTALLY WROTE A 3k WORD ONESHOT #YOU KNOW. AS YOU DO

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