... "Zoopocalypse" (title Idea By @/booming-boom)

AAAAA WINDBREAKER CONTENT I LOVE IT ( ✧Д✧) YES!!

##. MY HEART'S GOING LUB-DUB

♡ things he has said that flustered you.

♡ contents and warnings: established relationships, mentions of making out (nirei), mentions of marriage (sakura), reader’s ears are pierced in suou’s, mild, mild, possessiveness in suou's but not really 🐧

♡ characters: sakura haruka, nirei akihiko, suou hayato (x gn! reader)

Anyone who knows SAKURA HARUKA probably knows that contrary to the delinquent facade he puts up, he is actually quite innocent. A little naive, if you will, blushing at every show of romantic affection. And everyone in Boufuurin knows that’s why he’s become subject to Suou Hayato’s teasing when the brown haired boy needed a good chuckle. And of course, you, as his very lovely partner, had to also jump on the bandwagon of endearingly poking fun at your boyfriend. 

“Y’know, Haruka, you should stop me or else I’m gonna get carried away and keep teasing you even after we get married!” This was a sentence you often say for laughs after you had yet again successfully made Haruka agitated and his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red, all the way up to his ears. Granted, the first time he heard it he couldn’t look you in the eye for two whole days at the mention marriage (it’s not that he doesn’t like it, in fact it was because he likes it a little too much that he couldn’t even make eye contact without imagining you in fancy white attire). But now, he barely bats an eye at it now with how often you say it. But today, it’s evident that that particular sentence had poked at someone’s curiosity as you can sense someone staring at you as you banter with your boyfriend. 

“You know, Sakura-kun, I barely see you reacting to... that. You’re really planning to marry them in the future, huh?” Ah, it's Suou again. His soothing voice drips with mischief, the purpose of his question is obviously to tease his heterochromatic eyed peer yet again. Haruka’s features morph into one of confusion, brows furrowed as he turns to face his vice captain. 

“Hah? What are you talking about?” Haruka inquires like suou’s question is the most ridiculous question in the world. If you didn’t know any better you would have thought suou was asking him if he believed pigs could fly, or if the earth was actually a hexagon. 

(Of course, you can’t lie, suou’s question made you nervous despite how lighthearted he said it. Your self consciousness has already prepared itself for a heartbreak trip as you await your boyfriend to continue his response.)

“Why would I date someone I don’t intend on marrying?” 

Ah, now it’s your cheeks that are heating up. 

“Are you done?” The only answer SUOU HAYATO offers to your inquiry is a focused hum. His hand fumbles with the earring, his earring, as he tries to carefully slide the hook into the small hole on your right earlobe. Though, you have to say, you have nothing particular to complain about as you wait for your boyfriend to put the earring on you. After all, you’re getting the privilege of being in the front seat staring at Suou Hayato’s face as he carefully tries to put the earring on you. Lips pursed and eyes squinted a little, he looks extra handsome when he’s focused, you note. 

“Just need to secure them with the back. And... done!” he heaves out a breath as triumph takes over his features, pulling back slightly to admire his (hardly) hard work. His lips stretch into a smile, satisfied at how the red and yellow of his earring highlights your features more. 

“How does it look?” you feel quite nervous as you wait for his reply, shyly peering at him through your eyelashes. Being so close, you have the advantage of watching closely for any twitch of his features that might indicate satisfaction, dissatisfaction, anything that can indicate what kind of reaction he’s going to emit. 

You twitch slightly at the sensation of his pointer finger and middle finger grazing your chin, touch gentle as he settles them there. You swear you see something flashing in his usually gentle ruby eyes. Something akin to satisfaction, or, even, possessiveness. But you don't comment on it. He moves your head from your side to side as if to examine you thoroughly. (he quietly notes how cute you are for compliantly moving your head.) It’s only when you feel the earring faintly brushing against your right shoulder that you become hyper aware of how empty your left ear feels without an earring weighing it down. You also become hyper aware of the fact that the earring’s pair is still dangling from his left ear, eyes instinctively flitting to it. Your cheeks begin to heat up. Oh, it’s almost as if you’re wearing a couple ite-

He interrupts your thought before you can finish it.

“I quite like it, it’s pretty on you,” his voice breaks your train of thought. His smile is quite literally dripping with mischief, and now you can clearly see it. The tint of greed in his eyes is back as he moves his fingers that were formerly resting on your chin to stroke at the earring on your ear. His composed facade would have fooled you if it weren’t for the words he utters next.

“It gives off the feeling that you’re mine.” 

Oh he likes it, alright. Too much, maybe.

“Sorry. D’you need a break?” NIREI AKIHIKO’s voice is devoid of any teasing lilt, instead dripping with concern as he gazes at you through his eyelashes, eyes half lidded and cheeks flushed with a pretty tint of pink. 

It’s not the words by themselves. It’s the fact that he’s saying those words in this kind of situation. By this kind of situation, you mean with you perched up on his lap, legs splayed on either side of his thighs as he lay seated on a couch beneath you. He had uttered those exact words after what felt like 10 minutes straight of kissing

(it hadn’t even been 5 minutes, but you could barely think with how clouded your mind is). 

His question was thoroughly leaking with worry, caramel orbs boring through you as he awaits your reply. You wanted to say yes, hell, your lungs were begging you to say yes as they heaved desperately yes. You have to give your boyfriend credit, though. Sweet like always, he had noticed he had gone a little too far when he felt your lips part with breathless whines on his, and had asked if you needed a time out. Though, you don’t think he’s aware of how his voice shakes with want, or how his fingers that are resting on your hips squeezed hard like he was trying to ground himself, or how his eyes are swirling with something akin to need.

(or how he barely sounded apologetic when he apologized, and you suspect it’s because his pride soars with the knowledge that he’s the one making you breathless.)

“No,” you’re surprised at how hoarse your voice sounds, though, that is to be expected after you quite literally just had your breath taken away. Your thumb reaches out to swipe at his quivering bottom lip, gleaming with saliva and a little swollen from pressing against yours repeatedly. He leans into your touch, and you gulp away the feeling of your tugging heartstrings. “Keep kissing me, lover boy.” 

And as he lurches forward to clash your lips together again, the last thought that etches on your mind was that he really should put this on his resume: Nirei Akihiko, 16, not good at fighting (yet), hella good at kissing. 

|| When You Want a Piggyback Ride. || Wind Breaker ||

I wanted to try writing for multiple characters it’s my first time for some of them so sorry if it seems ooc

: Sakura Haruka. Suo Hayato. Nirei Akihito. Sugishita Kyoutaro. Umemiya Hajime. Kaji Ren.

❥ Sakura is dumbfounded by your request. What’s a piggyback and why do you want to ride it? Poor boy is extremely confused by your words. You’d have to explain to him what it is. Once he knows what it is, he’s steaming red from blushing, because you want him to carry you?!He’s sweating hard, your body is pressed against his and your thighs they’re so soft. He said five minutes only but he ended up carrying you to wherever you wanted to go despite the complaints. He’s secretly melting inside because you’re so close to him.

“Urgh...Fine! Just five minutes, okay?!”

❥ Suo clocks his head to the side as a gentle smile graces his face.Suo gracefully knees down, positioning his arms-readying. He looks like a regal prince, as he patiently waits for you to get on his back. When he tries to stand he’ll fake almost falling over, making you scared so that you’d press your body closer to him and that you’d wrap your arms around his neck. When walking he’ll pretend to trip or tickle your thighs. You’re on his back at his complete mercy to do as he pleases, he won’t let you down easily.

“If you don’t hold on tightly, you’ll fall〜”

❥ Nirei has frozen into a statue at your words. You want him to carry you. Here? Right now?! Only after he starts to panic so you try your best to reassure that it was just a joke and that he didn’t have to. Nirei accepts because who is he to say no to you? He’s nervous, he’s worried he might hold you the wrong way or that he won’t be able to carry you. A lot of reassurance is needed and in the end he manages to do it. He’ll get really tired and sweaty but refuse to back down, despite your worries for him.

“I’m o-okay, I can k-keep going….”

❥ Sugishita stares at you blankly, his blank face has you sweating questioning your request to him. However, before you could explain to him that it's a joke and that he doesn’t have to. He nods then crouches down, arms positioned behind him. You had to do a double take at the suddenness of it before mustering the courage and getting on. His grip on you is strong and the view is great from up here. Just point in whatever direction and he’ll go.

“……where?”

❥ Umemiya bounces around in happiness, unable to stay still from excitement. You don’t have to tell him he’s already crouched down ready to go. He’ll usher you to quickly get on. His grip on you is secure; you don’t have to worry about falling. Until he starts breaking out into a run, making airplane sounds. You had to hold on for dear life because he sure runs fast. He’ll continue to have you on his back as he visits the town people and speaks to his fellow team members. You’re embarrassed but he’s not, he’s proud to have you on his back.

“I wonder if Kotoha-chan will let me carry her too!”

❥ Kaji’s eyes widen in surprise his mouth opens but before he could say anything he sticks his lollipop back into his mouth again. He remains silent as crouches down, not moving until you’re comfortable on his back. The whole ride is silent, you’re not even sure where he’s taking you. No matter who tries to approach or talk to him, they are completely ignored. You have to silently apologize to them from his back. He eventually brings you to a park. He goes to sit and lean on a tree, patting the spot next to him for you to sit. When you do, he lays down to rest his head on your lap.

“I’m going to sleep….”

what do you guys think? should I write more for everyone?

𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌

nonnie asked: lately i noticed many writers writing about reader kissing character's face while wearing lipstick and therefore covering them in it and i found it so cute and then started to imagine your om!ocs and the modern au guys (…) being covered in lipstick kisses too […]

pairings: my genshin modern au guys (xiao :: scara :: aether :: kazuha :: heizou :: venti :: childe :: diluc :: kaeya), my obey me ocs (dantalion :: valefar :: stolas), my twst oc (cheron) x gn! reader

warnings: these lipsticks are not smudge-proof

a/n: as said i might write a full thing for one character when i have the chance but considering i have 13 characters here and i can only think of so many scenarios, i’m writing a few paragraphs each for now ^^;

original ask

modern au || dantalion || valefar || stolas || cheron

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐀𝐔

𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎 Piercer/ Tattoo Artist

It had been a busy week in which you hadn’t seen much of each other, so when you finally made it to Friday evening, you were overjoyed to see your boyfriend again. Needless to say, when the door swung shut, the first thing you did was flutter some well-earned kisses across his face, not even bothering to take your make-up off.  So when Xiao spotted his reflection in the mirror, the flush on his cheeks wasn’t the only rose colour decorating his beautiful complexion. While you watched his blush darken, he couldn’t meet your eyes in the mirror and you giggled to yourself as you watched them snap to you when you pulled the neckline of his shirt out of the way and planted a final kiss on the base of his neck.

𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀 Piercer/ Tattoo Artist

It was your day off, so for once you weren’t out of the house before Scara, instead getting ready at the same time as him. You made him his usual morning coffee to go after he slept over, since he straight up refused to drink anyone else’s, and kissed him goodbye. Not long after he arrived at the piercing studio, notifications started blowing up your phone and you skimmed the furious string of texts, laughing to yourself. Apparently, Xiao hadn’t said anything about the smudge on the corner of his lips, leaving Heizou and Venti to have a field day when they came in, teasing him relentlessly even after he wiped it off.  As for the accusation that you did it on purpose, who was to say…

𝐀𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 Piercer/ Tattoo Artist

“Do you still need the make up remover?” Aether asked from outside your bathroom door. You’d both just gotten back from an outing with the others from the piercing shop, staying longer than you initially intended. But that was what always happened. Venti could be very convincing and the group was too much fun to leave early. “I’m done, but I didn’t notice you wearing any makeup earlier,” you admitted, opening the door to let your boyfriend in.  “Well I wasn’t,” Aether sheepishly laughed, rubbing the base of his neck. And then you saw it. Faint traces of colour decorating his temple, cheek, the corner of his mouth and even the parts of his neck and chest not covered by his shirt. A shade that very closely resembled the lipstick you applied before going out. “You might be a bit of an affectionate drunk.” “Oh my— I’m so sorry, Aether,” you apologised, quickly searching around for some cotton pads and wiping the lipstick off his chest, trying not to linger on the thought too much. “Don’t worry, I thought it was cute,” he assured you, his warm smile seemingly lighting up the room. As you leaned in to clean his face, he took the opportunity to steal a quick kiss from you as well. “You should wear it more often, it looked very pretty on you.”

𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀 Piercer/ Tattoo Artist

Kazuha had come over for lunch, as he often did, taking a break from his coworkers between the plants, sketching if the time allowed for it. When you both had to return to work, you pressed a sweet kiss against his cheek and then rushed to help a customer. And while neither one of you noticed the colour dusting his cheek, the others sure did and wasted no time pointing it out, though all their teasing comments seemed to bounce right off of him.  He wiped the stain away before any customers came in, laughing off how he hadn’t noticed at all. “Of course you wouldn’t notice,” Heizou agreed, a knowing air about him. “After all, you’re way too busy making heart eyes at your florist to even think about looking anywhere else for a second.”

𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐔 Piercer/ Tattoo Artist

“Hey honey, could you help me with something real quick?” You called your boyfriend over as you finished applying a new shade of lipstick you bought. As Heizou strolled up to where you were standing, you turned towards him with a smile. “What do you think? Do you like it?” “The colour looks beautiful on you,” he easily replied, sending you a flirtatious wink. “Though I’m not sure if it’s really the colour or just you being gorgeous that’s causing it. Now what did you need help with?” Wrapping one arm around his neck, you pulled him in for a kiss, making sure to firmly plant your lips against his. If your boyfriend was surprised at all, he masked it well, easily melting into the kiss. As you pulled away a little breathlessly, you grinned. “Just wanted to see if it’s really smudge-proof, though I guess it failed in that regard.” You traced a finger around the faint trace of colour on his lips as Heizou took the tube from you and applied the lipstick with pinpoint precision. Turning to you, his olive eyes were gleaming with mischief as he chuckled. “I think we should run a few more tests, just to be sure.”

𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈 Piercer/ Tattoo Artist

“This one’s for the song you wrote for me and this one’s for bringing me my favourite coffee without me asking,” you mused, studying your boyfriend’s face covered in pink-hued gloss marks. Somehow a kiss to the temple had ended with you caging Venti against the couch, fluttering a dozen kisses all over the skin you could reach. “Ehe, what can I say, I’m just the best boyfriend ever,” he giggled, tracing his fingers down the contours of your face in return. Then, something in his expression changed and you prepared yourself to shut down whatever idea he was about to propose next. “Maybe I should think about getting one of them tattooed? On my shoulder or so?” “Don’t you dare.”

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐄 Idol

Ever since you had caught a lot of heat from Childe’s manager for accidentally letting your boyfriend leave with a mark decorating his collarbones, you were very cautious of leaving any visible stains on him, even if it was just makeup.  Still, you found ways to work around this little inconvenience. There was one time you signed off a little post-it note you left on the fridge for him, wishing him good luck for a performance, with a lipstick stain. After seeing his reaction of childish glee, it became a staple in your relationship. Then again, whenever Childe came home from work with his makeup still on, he never failed to press a big, fat, lip gloss stained kiss on your cheek, chuckling like the menace he is when you make a show of wiping it off.

𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂 Club Owner/ Bartender

Diluc had seen his fair share of shameless make outs during his time at the Angel’s Share and normally he just turned his head the other way, not sure why people would enjoy slobbering all over each other. Well, that was until he met you anyway.  Though he’d like to think he was more composed than the intoxicated people at his club, whenever you pressed your lips against his, he thought he might get drunk off of you. He swallowed hard when you pulled away, mind still trying to process what was happening as his eyes tracked the movement of your own kiss-swollen lips, not hasty to wipe away the traces of you against his skin.

𝐊𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐀 Model

Kaeya actually revelled in it whenever you leave any type of mark on him, as long as it didn’t lead to a scolding from his manager. Whether it was something more durable like a hickey or something easily wiped off like a lipstick stain, Kaeya always looked very smug about it afterwards. After all, the marks were a testimony to the events that transpired previously, and what could he say, Kaeya enjoyed those very much. Even more so considering he knew his way around a makeup bag, confidently picking out shades that looked gorgeous on you and even more gorgeous when they were smudged around the corner of your lips and over his skin. In his opinion, every photo of the aftermath was more stunning than any of his cover shoots.

𝐎𝐛𝐞𝐲 𝐌𝐞! 𝐎𝐂𝐬

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 Majolish Owner/ Devil Style Chief Editor

You walked in on Dantalion getting ready, his attention that was previously on his reflection in the vanity mirror flickering to you when you entered. His plush lips, curled into a loving smile, are painted in a flattering shade of red and your gaze was trained on them as you came to stand in front of him. “Are you trying a new shade? It suits you well.” “I am. I’m glad you like it,” he hummed, tilting his head in contemplation. “I wonder…” Cupping your cheek in his palm, the demon leaned towards you and you instinctively closed your eyes as his soft lips pressed against yours with purpose. As always his kisses made a part of your brain short circuit and you blinked at him dazedly for a moment after you parted. There was a satisfied gleam in his bright eyes as he wiped at your bottom lip with his thumb, studying the red stain he left. “As expected, it’s an even lovelier colour on you, my flower.”

𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐀𝐑 Casino Owner

“Little lamb, come here for a second.” Valefar was no stranger to finding your lipstick smudges at the rim of his drinks or wiping smudges of colour and gloss from his cheek before leaving for the casino after you gave him a kiss goodbye. He didn’t mind, found it cute even, but as he regarded the pink stain on the collar of his white dress shirt in the lounge’s mirror, he knew it won’t come off with a quick swipe of his thumb. It wasn’t a big deal, he kept spare shirts in his office, but Val wouldn’t pass on the opportunity to fluster you. “Care to explain yourself?” You were halfway through stuttering out a sheepish apology when Valefar backed you against his desk, keeping you pinned to him with a hand on your back. Intense amber eyes keep contact with yours as he leaned down to suck a noticeable hickey on the same spot his collar would be, knowing your clothes barely wouldn’t be able to hide it. “Debts should be repaid, wouldn’t you agree?”

𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐒 Popular Streamer

It was a pleasant day in the Devildom, as pleasant as it could be in a realm without the sun anyway, pulling the two of you out into town. While strolling from apparel stores to gaming shops, you passed a café you frequented and decided to stop by for some refreshments. As you pointed around various shop displays, you had the sinking feeling that your drink emptied faster than usual. And when you spotted the colourful stain that had transferred from your straw to your boyfriend’s lips, you caught the culprit red- handed (or rather red-lipped). When confronted he merely chuckled playfully before swooping in to steal a kiss on top of your drink, staining them with more of your lipstick and thereby destroying the evidence. (His straw also became more colourful as he offered you his drink as compensation.)

𝐓𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐎𝐂

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍 Prince of Hell

When Vil gifted you a set of lipsticks and glosses from a campaign he was part of and had no need for, you accepted them gratefully. You just finished sorting through all the shades and trying out a pretty shade of red, when there was a knock on your door and Cheron sauntered into your room.  “There you are,” he grinned, charming without even having to try, before pulling you close and stealing the air from your lungs with a kiss. For someone who claimed to not be interested in ferrying more souls to hell, he sure seemed intent on trying to kill you. “What’s this you got there? Vil’s new collab?” “Right you are,” you paused, peering around him to the lipstick tube in your hand and chuckling as you read the shade name. Pressing another kiss right onto the middle of his cheek as payback for his usual schemes, you took in the red matching the colour on the corner of his lips. “Don’t you think it’s a beautiful colour, Cherry? It does match your hair and eyes. Maybe I should start calling you that.” There was a dangerous glint in his crimson eyes, clearly aware of the red staining his face, as he swiped his thumb under your bottom lip where the lipstick left a smudge as well.  “You have a lot of nerve marking the Prince of Hell.” His grin showed off the points of his fangs more clearly now, clearly amused at your little stunt, taking a step forward and walking you backwards towards the edge of your bed. “That’s fine. If you can handle the consequences, that is.”

© the-travelling-witch 2024 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit; do not feed my writing to an ai

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

➺ send in an ask to be added to or removed from my tag list

genshin tag list: @mccnstruck @tavvattales @silentmoths @ainescribe @meimeimeirin @dustofthedailylife @nsojbbkkm @kazuuhhaaaa @inufinuf @ynverse @nico707 @boba-is-a-soup @hellithides @ryuryuryuyurboat @the-guardian-kitsune

modern au tag list: @r0ttenhearts @bananasquash @himimikyu @franaby

obey me ocs tag list: @the-guardian-kitsune

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ “MY BOYFRIEND IS GONNA KICK YOUR ASS !”

PT 2: WINDBREAKER BOYS PROTECTING YOU FROM PERVS. ft. yamato endo, chika takiishi, akihiko nirei, taiga tsugeura, & choji tomiyama x f!reader

PART 1: kaji ren, togame jo, umemiya hajime, sakura haruka, hayato suo, toma hiragi, kiryuu mitsuki, & kyotaro sugishita x f!reader

sfw. wc: 1.7K. ohh i had sm fun w endo’s hehe <3 individual warnings are below, but f!reader: referred to as she / her.

YAMATO ENDO.

‘my girl,’ ‘angel’ & ‘pretty thing’

“hey,” endo’s voice cuts through the tense atmosphere like a blade, heavy arm coming to rudely rest on one of their shoulders. “what do you think you’re doing scaring her into a corner like that? tryna get at my girl?”

on a normal day, you’d roll your eyes at the teasing tone he always uses around you— but today, it brings you nothing but relief, fresh tears threatening to spill as you choke out his name.

his mere presence is enough to silence the group of guys who had just been talking over you moments prior, the three men in front stiffening at the sight of him alone. they can hardly believe this; you really weren’t bluffing when you said endo would kick their asses— he’s frightening.

they exchange knowing looks when they hear you sniffle, hands coming to wipe at the tears that had begun streaming down your cheeks. they were fucked.

“n-no! of course not,” one of them breaks the silence.

“we had no idea she was your girl— ” another one stammers, hands coming up defensively.

“didn’t know? you serious?”

endo’s voice comes out sharp, eyes narrowing as he puts more weight onto his arm, grinning at the way the man’s knees start to tremble at the pressure. “my angel here doesn’t usually look at me like that, y’know,” he whispers, jutting a thumb in your direction, “so what’d you do to put that terrified look on her face?”

“sorry— we’re really sorry,” one of them starts to apologize profusely, but your boyfriend was clearly not in his usual good mood today, and he grabs his face roughly, ignoring the way his cries of pain come out muffled against his palm.

“asked you a question, didn’t i?”

the veins along his forearm bulge when his grip tightens, and you hear a painful crack, the man’s hands coming to desperately scratch and claw at endo’s arms. “she likes it when i’m nice, so i’ll give you a second chance to quit spewing some fucking nonsense and answer me, yeah?”

the two men behind him exchange fearful glances before stumbling over their words, desperately coming up with any excuse that came to their minds. one of them accidentally slips out the truth, a “we told her we’d make a mess of that pretty face if she kept turning us down” and the group falls completely silent.

“i-it’s okay!” you stammer, hands come to tug at his the back of your boyfriend’s jacket.

your words fall on deaf ears, and he lets go of the one he’s holding by the face, not sparing him a second glance as he drops to the floor with a loud thud.

“okay, i think i get it now,” endo says through a genuine laugh, and it sends a shiver down your spine. he’s not facing you, but you think you can picture the expression on his face pretty well. “e-endo-”

“fifteen,” his words come out slow, “i’ll meet you in front of that corner store in fifteen, pretty thing.”

CHIKA TAKIISHI.

oh— so that’s why you’re late today.

takiishi watches from a distance as you jut your thumb towards your phone screen, your usual chirpy voice laced with anger now as you repeat yourself with a frustrated huff— “i said have a boyfriend.. see? his contact is right here. can you leave me alone now?”

“and i said i didn’t give a fuck about your little boyfriend,” the man laughs loudly when your lips wrinkle in disgust, “i prefer the ones with an attitude.”

“what do you think he’s gonna do if he finds out, huh?” he reaches out to get a feel of your hair, “think he can touch me?”

“takiishi’s gonna knock your lights out cold,” you grit, slapping his hand away when it comes too close to your face. that seemed to be enough to set him off, his eyebrow twitching in anger as he takes a step towards you, looming over over your figure with quick breaths.

“don’t piss me off— i was nice when i said you’d have a good time if you came with me.”

“i’d rather eat shit-” you seethe, angry expression contorting when he grabs firmly around your wrist— “that hurts!” it makes you wince, your phone hitting the concrete with a thud.

“what do you think you’re doing?” the coldness of his voice sends a shiver down your spine.

“ah, takiishi—”

the man jerks his head around at the name, hand still gripping your wrist as he sizes him up. his first thought is that he’s alright. he notices the muscle definition right away, but he doesn’t look particularly heavy. there is, however, a sudden coldness in the air that he can’t quite grasp, and you look awfully relieved now that he’s here.

“so you’re the boyfriend she’s been talking about?” he says with a laugh. “you gonna let her come with me?”

“move. you’re wasting our time,” takiishi says.

“huh? who the fuck do you think you’re talking t—”

“i said move.”

your mind can hardly comprehend the speed, mind just barely able to register the second takiishi’s foot connects with the man's chest, sending him crashing to the ground beside you in an instant.

he’s beside you the next second, fingers coming to fix the stray pieces of hair beside your eyes. “did he hurt you?”

“n-no! i’m okay.”

his tone is cold, as usual, but the hint of concern makes your heart flutter anyways. he lets you latch yourself onto his bicep, lets you tighten your grip around his arm as you fume about the audacity that guy had, and most importantly, he makes sure you call him every time you’re about to leave your home alone.

TAIGA TSUGEURA.

someone touches around your lower back

“my bench has blown up since i switched to bulldog grip,” taiga rambles, “and my squat too. the ‘tripod foot’ cue really helps with even foot pressure.”

you nod along, always interested when he tells you about his progress in the gym, but your attention wavers when you feel a hand press against your lower back. it’s not taiga’s touch. it’s too unfamiliar, too invasive. your eyes fill with panic when the hand starts to roam downwards, and you can barely stammer out taiga’s name, voice trembling too much for him to hear.

“i should also get new knee sleeves eventually,” he continues, oblivious to the situation. “the cue helps, but i would get way more bounce if i had a pair of inzers instead of the flimsy ones i’m using now.”

“i always get stuck at the bottom of my squat, so they would help. but i know pause squats help with that, so i could implement those—”

your grip tightens on taiga’s shirt, knuckles turning white as you try your hardest to convey your fear. he pauses mid-sentence, finally picking up on the expression you’re giving him.

“whoa— you okay?” his voice is filled with concern as he peers down at you.

his gaze trails down, and that’s when he notices it.

you gasp at the speed of it all. in an instant, the man is slammed into the wall behind you, loud thud echoing throughout the entire train. “no way,” his voice is loud, and you hear the bystanders gasping and whispering, their attention shifting to the scene.

“that’s messed up, man.” taiga’s voice comes out low, a serious glare on his face that you’ve never seen on him. the vice grip he has around the man’s wrist tightens, enough to have him yelping in pain and stammer out an apology.

“turn yourself in at the next stop, yeah?”

CHOJI TOMIYAMA.

“tell me— who was that?” choji asks, latching himself around your middle to wrap you in a tight embrace, and you glance at the unconscious man sprawled on the ground beside you.

“you knocked him out cold without knowing anything?” you ask incredulously, your arms coming to return his embrace, lips curling into a small smile when he melts into your touch.

“mhm. he was bothering you, right?” his voice comes out cheerful, but there’s a flicker of worry in his eyes when he meets your gaze.

he hates to admit it, but his body had completely moved on his own. it was a bad habit he had developed since meeting you, because he finds himself worrying about you— desperately wanting to put his strength to use and protect you from everything he saw as ‘bad.’ it was only after he had jump kicked the man grabbing at your arm that he had considered the slim possibility that maybe he wasn’t bothering you in the first place.

“he was.” you confirm.

he lets out an exhale he didn’t know he was holding. “then….it was okay that i kicked him in the face, right?”

he relaxes a bit more when you nod, his usual smile returning to his lips. “thank you for saving me, choji,” your voice comes out soft and soothing, and he feels his heart skip a beat at the praise.

AKIHIKO NIREI.

“ah— where are we going?!” you yelp as you stumble, barely able to keep up as nirei pulls you by the wrist.

the two of you were at the mall, shopping for new summer clothes when he had suddenly called you to him by name— dragging you and your bags along with him in an instant. before you could even realize what had happened, you’re in an elevator, watching in disbelief as he fumbles to frantically click the ‘close’ button, the doors finally sliding shut after the tenth click.

“you’re safe,” he sighs, “that’s a relief.”

“you scared the shit outta me,” you scold, arms folded across your chest as you glare. “what was that for?”

“sorry,” nirei chuckles lightly, “but there was a guy who kept looking at you. he’s bad news.”

“how can you tell?”

you feel more at ease when his fingers come to interlace with yours again, and you feel him squeeze your hand a bit. “i guess um…” his other hand comes to scratch at the back of his head, “i have this sort of danger sense whenever it comes to you.”

“something like that.”

A Linnet on a Bough [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Title: A Linnet on a Bough [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Synopsis: Isolation takes its toll, and you begin to sleepwalk out of the gilded manor Scaramouche has procured for you. Commissioned piece.

Word count: 3300ish

notes: yandere, married reader, sleepwalking, isolation, unhealthy/controlling behavior 

Being the spouse of a Harbringer is no simple matter, and you are no simple spouse. 

If you had married someone from  your village, your life would be simple. You would do what your parents had done, and their parents had done, and their parents had done. Cooking and mending and minding the children, and living out your days without ever venturing very far, except on rare occasions that would be something you would treasure forever.

You would grow old within the confines of the village and die surrounded by your children, who would bury you near your own parents and go on to live out their lives much as you had done.

But you didn’t marry someone from your village, and your life is not so simple. Instead, you were wed to Scaramouche. Sometimes it doesn’t seem real, even now, and you pinch yourself to make sure you’re not nursing some long standing fever-dream. 

Who would have thought? Certainly not you. Sometimes you wonder if even he expected to ever make such a match. But he told you that he intended to marry you, and let the words hang in the air, to be caught or cut down with your decision.

You said yes. Really, you couldn’t say no… but part of you wanted it. Yes, you can admit that much. It was flattering, and isn’t it nice to be flattered? Especially when you were nobody. Just someone who trudged to the town well to fetch water for your elderly parents, someone who helped a stranger (Scaramouche, it turns out, was not the helpless waif you’d assumed) and got a husband for their troubles. 

So, no, life is not simple. Both in the figurative and literal meaning of the word. 

And now, wife of a Harbringer as you are, you have grown acquainted with--and acquainted is the only term for it, for you could never say you were accustomed to any of it--certain luxuries. Food, to your liking, whenever you would like it. Sometimes it is even brought to you out of season, the greatest luxury of all. Clothing made with rich materials; ribbons, jewels, the softest of slippers to adorn your feet. Servants and pampering the likes of which you had only heard about in your old life. 

But there is one luxury that you are routinely denied, no matter how much you pout your lips, no matter how prettily you ask, no matter how many tears blur your vision and wet your eyelashes: the outside world.

You’re not meant to go outside, Scaramouche had told you, the first time it became clear that you were not going to waltz out of the stately manor he’d brought you to for the wedding in order to take in the scenery. 

And so… you don’t go outside anymore. Not in the traditional sense. You rest in covered litters with the windows tacked shut and he’s not above smacking your hand if you try to lift up the corners to catch a glimpse of whatever (or whoever) waits outside. Of course, when he’s not accompanying you, your pitiful looks sometimes convince one of the guards to let you keep one flap untouched so that you can take a peek.

But seeing flashes of the world you used to live in are not the same as truly being within it. The ghost of a breeze against your half-hidden face is not the same as basking in the sunshine. Hearing the sounds of life from a village as you’re carried through it is not the same as stopping at a market stall to buy a treat, asking someone how their day is going, and absorbing the hustle and bustle of everyone around you.

There is no substitute for living out in the world. 

You just don’t know how to convince Scaramouche of that fact.

--

There is a fine line between gratitude and ingratitude, between obedience and surliness, and Scaramouche finds that you walk it all too well. 

It doesn’t matter how much he takes away; how much he removes the temptation by tacking up screens or keeping you within interior apartments, free from all the noise and sights and smells of the outside. You still want to go outside. Something about it calls to you, pulling on your sleeves, no matter what he does.

He loves to hear your voice, nightingale that you are, but sometimes he is so gravely tempted to press a finger to your lips and tell you to hush. 

No matter how much he tries to occupy your mind with something different. Better. Himself, most often (for you should be grateful for that) but things that no one else could say he gave them. Gifts. Trinkets. Things that suited your interests, which he knew very well, because he hangs onto every word that comes from your mouth.

Even the ones that drive him mad. 

At least until you learn to stop saying things that grate his ears and the space where his heart should be. 

The pleadings that come so softly and sweetly--but if that was all, he could manage. It’s the way that you weave your thoughts into every conversation like a pattern in a tapestry--remarking on the weather conditions in regions that the two of you might be traveling in, asking if the retinue had encountered certain flora or animals during the journey. You want to know about the world; you want to be in the world. 

Little things, little threads, connecting you to a world that isn’t exclusively him… why has nothing successfully cut them from your grasping fingers? 

--

“They only blossom under certain conditions, you know.” Your voice is soft and lilting, carrying on the one-sided conversation over a shared table of delicate foods. You take bites in between your verbal fascination with the local flora, a subject you’re all too keen to share with him. “The flowers are said to be so lovely that people have wept at the sight of them. And the fragrance…” You sigh a little, and pick a piece of fruit to nibble on. “There’s nothing like it. Or so I’m told.” 

A pause. You glance at him, eyelashes practically fluttering, then look back at your dishes. 

“And… I’ve never seen one in person,” you add as you reach for another helping of fruit. “I wonder what they’re like.” 

Do you think he doesn’t know what you’re trying to do? Looking at him so sweetly, asking how he finds the food, interspersing dinner with notions of flowers blooming right outside the borrowed manor the two of you have been living in for this current assignment.

But he won’t give in. He won’t be manipulated, not even by you. 

Still… that doesn’t mean he can’t try to fulfill this hunger of yours. Much like filling a better, a taste should be enough to keep you from grumbling. 

Within the week, he has some unlucky Fatui tasked with the mission of cutting a fresh bouquet of the very flowers that you were waxing on about so prettily. And you wake up one morning to find them on the nightstand next to your bed, set in a clear vase.

He thinks that you’ll smile, and thank him, and if all goes well, he won’t have to hear any more not-so-subtle hints about your desire to go outside.

But you don’t smile and fling yourself at his feet, thanking him for such a thoughtful, fine gift. You don’t tell him that this is all you need--the flowers he gifts you, the clothes he has painstakingly crafted to suit our form and above all, him. 

Instead your hand goes to your mouth, covering the smallest of gasps. 

And, well, he thinks--you’re surprised. That’s all. That’s to be expected., if anything. You did often complain about the monotony of your days, so a little surprise was bound to get a reaction from you. 

But instead of breaking into a grin and thanking him, your hand reaches out to touch the delicate blossoms. Like they’re going to break. More than that--like there’s something wrong. 

“How much prettier they would be in nature…” Your lips curve downward, a soft frown that feels aimed right at him. “I’m sorry that you cut them…”

“What is it?” And if there is a snap in his voice,  you surely couldn’t blame him.  You are so difficult to please, and hiding the fact that he wants to please you at all is a tiring chore all on its own. You exhaust him as much as you fill him.

Sometimes, you make him want to scream.

He’ll take out his pent-up irritation on someone else. Irritation that is not at you, but with you. Yet not with you as well. It’s all a jumbled mess that he doesn’t want to untangle, and he won’t. He’ll shove it down deep into some cavernous hole, perhaps the one that exists inside of him no matter how hard he tries, and move on with his day.

If only you would stop looking at those flowers like they were broken glass.

--

You’re gone. The space that you occupy (the left half of the shared bed, all wrapped in blankets and often clutching a pillow instead of him, a trait he does not find endearing but does not wish to push on) is empty, bereft of anything but cool rumpled sheets.

There’s fear, at first. Fear that something has happened. Someone has taken you. Perhaps it was Her… perhaps She, of all the unholy things, has slithered past his defenses and snatched you up just to snap another piece from his broken patchwork body. 

It doesn’t have to be Her, though. He has many enemies. And enemies will target your weakest point, and you, you, you. You are exactly that to him. 

So there is fear, yes, that you have been snatched away and perhaps you are already dead, and they took you not for blackmail but for some kind of revenge. To see him wither. 

But then he retrieves the lantern from the dresser and lights it, the warm glow illuminating the silent, heavy room. He can feel his breath quickening, his chest tightening, and he doesn’t know why or what to do with any of it.

It only gets worse when he realizes that there is no sign of forced entry. No broken door-locks, no sprinkles of glass on the rugs, no drops of blood on the windowsill to mark where you might have been dragged through.

The fear ebbs away, replaced by a sour, sickly feeling of betrayal. 

You’ve left him. After all he’s given you. All he’s done for you. 

Yes, he’s taken away your freedom, but you didn’t have the capacity to understand why that was not something to begrudge him for. Freedom was not for delicate things that needed to be kept alive, protected, harbored from the rest of the world. 

He clutches the lantern in one hand and storms out of the room, still wearing his night-clothes. The hallways are dim, barely light by small windows that let in a trickle of moonlight. He listens. 

You couldn’t have gone far, and you’d better hope he catches you himself before morning, because if he has to engage a search party on  your behalf, no one (least of all the Fatui stationed with him) will be enjoying it.

He dismisses one of the guards who spots him. He doesn’t want them involved, not yet. He pushes out one of the side doors and begins to walk the perimeter of the grounds. You might have gone off into the forest, or perhaps you went down the paved path, hoping to find a traveler who might help you.

He is about to decide which option to take when he hears something from behind him, near a half-broken brick enclosure that had seen better days. Were you hiding in there? Trying to trick him? He couldn’t put it past you. 

He braces himself, feeling something thrum through him that made him want to turn away and rush forward all at once, and walks through the open gate of the enclosure. 

And… you’re there.

Sitting in the midst of a garden, some untended thing that was left here by the previous tenants, before it was abandoned and absorbed into the network of buildings useful to the Fatui. And to him, for keeping you in one secure location for months on end.

It was wild and overgrown, and some of the rocks creating the garden path were moss-covered. It’s a wonder you didn’t slip on them, he thinks, and there’s a flash of fear mingled with his irritation. How could you do something as stupid as sneak outside at night, in the dark, and walk into some unknown, overgrown eyesore? 

You haven’t heard his footsteps, evidently, because you go on standing. You’re swaying a little, and your hands brush the flowers. He can hear you talking to yourself, something low and sweet. He can’t see your face but it’s easy enough to imagine that you’re smiling. 

“What are you doing?” There was an attempt, in his mind, to keep his voice level. But it quakes anyway, with fury and irritation and that still-sour worry that you betrayed him in the night.

He waits. You don’t turn around. He thought that, when you heard his voice, you were going to jump like a scared little animal and apologize and try to smooth things over with your teary lashes and pouting lips.

But you don’t turn around. And when you answer him, it’s not a word, really. It’s mumbling. Low. Almost a groan.

He’s had enough. He walks forward until he can grip your upper arm, and moves to turn you around. But you don’t pout or jerk away or tell him that you just wanted to go outside. You’re looking straight at him but he can tell right away that you don’t truly see him at all.

You’re… asleep. 

Standing up, eyes blinking rapidly as if in the throes of some waking dream, in the middle of a garden.

But asleep, all the same. 

He presses his lips together. You were a nuisance. Truly. He should leave you here, let you wake up in the morning cold and shivering and covered in slick green moss.

Instead, he lifts you up. You flail a little, arms jerking this way and that, but it’s easy enough to grip you close and carry you bridal-style back down the hallway (the Fatui stationed in the hall is wise enough to say absolutely nothing as he sees him returning) and continues until he can lay you gently down onto your side of the bed.

You gasp, then, perhaps half-waking. But it’s eased enough when your hands instinctively grab your pillow and curl up with it. 

Before heading back into bed, he grabs a fire poker and slides it through the handles of your bedroom doorway. You wouldn’t be getting out, not in your sleep, anyway.

His dreams that night are fitful.

--

The first thing you realize upon awakening is that you’d really rather go back to sleep, because your dream was lovely. You were in a garden, fragrant and lovely. There was cool fresh air on your face and grass under your toes and sounds, real sounds. Birds and insects buzzing and everything that is forever kept on the other side of walls and windows now.

Over breakfast, you smile, and serve your husband his dishes before you tuck into your own. And is it wrong that you want to tell him about your dream? Is it wrong that you hope it will make him finally let you go outside, even just for a little while?

“I had a lovely dream last night,” you say, smiling with what you hope is sweetness and not desperation. “I was in a garden…”

You don’t see the goosebumps that run up his arms at your words.

--

You sleepwalk the next night. And the next. And the next. He doesn’t know how you manage to get the bar off the door every time, how you evade the guards, how you don’t wake him up… but you do. 

Always going to the same place, the damned garden, with its stubborn flowers and broken paths.

Well. If one vase of flowers is not enough to keep you satisfied (and more importantly, inside) perhaps he needs to take it a few steps further. 

He gifts you more flowers. Bundles of them, baskets of them, stuffed into vases and pots and cracked pans his underlings found in the kitchen storage room. 

And while the rooms of the manor are soon a garden, filled with cloying blossoms and greenery that brings its fair share of insects lurking about, it doesn’t make you stop talking about the world that you’re supposedly “missing” out there. 

Not just the flowers, but the animals. The people. The markets. 

The life, teeming with every little thing, good and bad, that makes up this world. 

Most disturbingly of all: The sleepwalking continues.

What more can he give you without giving you the freedom that would break him apart?

--

It’s not that the sound of a bird in the morning is unusual. It’s just that they are normally muffled, as there are no trees near the window of the bedroom.

But the chirping that you hear now is so close that it might as well be in your ear. Groggy, rubbing away the dust of sleep in your eyes, you sit up…

And find that there is a silver bird cage sitting on top of your dresser, next to a wilting vase of flowers from a few days before. 

It’s a pretty thing. Small and  yellow. A pretty thing in a pretty cage. Another gift from your husband, after the mountains of flowers, the wreaths of blooming vines, the meals, the clothes, the comfort…

--

He can never get used to waking up without you beside him. No matter how many times he easily finds you and brings you back, mumbling and bleary, there is always those terrible, agonizing moments of panic when he thinks: you’ve left him.

But you’re not alone in the garden. 

You’re holding the cage, clutching it to your chest. He wonders what will happen if your sleeping muscles dream of something else; will you drop the cage and let it clatter to the ground? Will the delicate bird inside be jostled so terribly that it dies? And what would he do, then, to ensure that this doesn’t make you even less satisfied with your isolated life?

But you don’t drop it. One thing he has learned from watching you sleepwalk is that you are surprisingly nimble about it. 

He watches, lips pressed into a frown, as you slowly lower the cage to one of the formerly ornate pedestal tables in the garden. It must have been pretty once. Now, it’s mossy and gray and damp. 

It doesn’t surprise him, what you do next. Your fingers, shaking but surprisingly deft, undo the latch on the door and swing it open. The bird inside hops around for a few moments, tilting its head to and fro, before it launches itself into the air and flies away.

You mumble something, sweet and slurry. A farewell, perhaps. Who knows what really goes on in your pretty head when you sleep? 

And it’s his cue to take you back inside. You still fight, just a little, when he picks you up. Flail your arms and legs, until he’s held you tight enough that your muscles seem to accept the hold and relax.

He looks down at your bleary, half-awake face. Your eyes tend to close when he carries you. Perhaps your body knows that it’s okay to let them rest, now that someone else is carrying you. Holding you. Protecting you.

A pity that your mind couldn’t understand that fact. 

Sometimes he considers chaining you up at night. It would be the most practical solution. It might even ease his fears every time he wakes to find you gone, and he’s forced to track you down to this nighttime garden that no one else would bother entering.

But there’s something in him, hard and sick, that wonders. If he chains you up, he might just free you in his sleep, like you’ve freed the bird in the cage. 

It’s easier to pretend you aren’t his prisoner when your chains are invisible, after all. 

TSUBAKI CONTENT??? PLS I LOVE HER SM (*´˘`*)♡

TSUBAKI AS YOUR GIRLFRIEND!

notes. the only reason why i got into windbre is because of her and mister white-haired blue-eyed hajime umemiya. (im gonna explode)

contents and warnings. mostly fluff, tsubaki is referred to using she/her pronouns (pls she is heavily transfem-coded), making out (mentioned, non explicit).

✦ Somehow, some way, you managed to get into a relationship with someone as cool and awesome as her! How? Why? You aren't sure, but you don't question it, afraid that it'll backfire on you.

✦ Tsubaki is extremely affectionate and loves PDA. She would hold your hand if you let her to, squeezing it occasionally to make sure you're still hanging onto her. It's a small, little habit that you have formed— a wordless communication.

✦ Sometimes, when she sees you from a distance, she'll run up to you and either greet you with a hug or surpise you with a hug from behind. Forgive her if she buries her face into your hair and smells your shampoo, it makes her giddy when you use the new scented shampoo she recommended you.

✦ More often than not, you'll find lipstick marks all over you when she goes to attack you with kisses. It's a fun surprise whenever you suddenly find a mark on your forehead or on your jaw... It's kind of embarrassing, but hey, that's love you suppose.

✦ If you aren't comfortable with PDA, Tsubaki will understand and will adjust to be more affectionate behind closed doors.

✦ She loves to have sleepovers at your place, even more so when your parents are so welcoming and accepting of her. You'd guys have self-care sessions, pulling out skin-care kits and applying facemasks while watching a movie together; Sometimes, you'd have long rant-filled talks about random things you guys find interest in. The sleepovers often end in either cuddling or makeout sessions that also ends up in cuddling.

✦ Uses pet names, but to the point it's unbearingly sweet. Most of the time, it's the slip of a tongue like "Could pass me the salt, darling?", "Oh, sweetheart, don't cry" and "Don't keep me waiting, Angel"... And the other half is just teasing because she just loves watching you become all flustered.

✦ She's also easily flustered, so you guys have flirting competitions and the first to become shy loses. It's a cute, little bonding moment!

✦ Shopping dates are a must! It's practically a ritual for you both. At first, she brought you along, so you can give your honest opinion whenever she tries out new accesories or outfits. But when you start to do the same, you bet she'll be hyping you up. Even more so when you're the type to stick in your personal bubble and avoid new things.

✦ She's the kind of girlfriend that'll introduce you to things you never thought of trying before, but you're glad you did because it makes you so happy! And that's her number one goal when it comes to you.

✦ Whenever you're feeling down, she's there to comfort you. If you need a calm voice to listen to, she's there to sit beside you and offer her shoulder to dry your tears. She'll pat your head and tell you everything's going to be alright, and just lots of encouraging things.

✦ She'd do anything she can to distract you from your thoughts, even going as far as take out on dates and have you focus on being happy instead of whatever your problem is.

✦ Tsubaki just cares so much and loves you lots, and she wants you to be is comfortable around her. So if you have a problem with anything (i.e loud noises, crowds, being uncomfortable with affection), she'll understand and adjust. All she asks is you do the same for her as well!

✦ With her, people don't even make you a target. I mean, she is one of the four heavenly kings in Boufurin. Anyone who messes with her beloved, messes with her.

✦ If anyone dares to push their luck, well... They best be prepared because she isn't going to let that slide.

✦ And after she's done teaching them a very important lesson on how to keep their noses in their own business, she's off to giving you all the love and affection you deserve, making you forget all about anyone that tried to hurt you.

Guard Dog vol.I

jason todd x fem!reader

aka don’t fuck with jason’s girlfriend

4 in 1 blurbs

vol. II

warnings: mildly creepy guys, standard protective bf methods

Jason’s good at shutting people up very quickly. You’d almost call it a talent.

He shuts you up with a kiss when you get stuck in a rant, or with a hug to calm your worried rambles.

And when you’re in an incorrigibly teasing mood, he’ll throw you over his shoulder and carry you back to your bedroom to really shut you up.

With other people though, he has…different methods.

You sit atop your kitchen counter, trading lazy kisses in between giggles with your boyfriend. He stands in front of you, hands massaging your thighs as he leans in for another. You happily oblige.

You break off the exchange to lay a series of sweet kisses on that spot under his jaw.

His head tilts back, letting out a groan so low you nearly miss it. “Sweetheart…” he warns.

“Sorry…” you resign with a sheepish smile.

A knock at the door bursts you out of your shared reverie. You press a kiss to his knuckles and hop down to start setting the table.

Jason gets the door, greeting the pizza guy with a nod as you shuffle around the kitchen. The delivery guy hands him a receipt, asking for a signature.

Jason uses the door as a surface to sign, giving the delivery guy an apt view into your apartment, where he sees you getting out plates in the kitchen. More noticeably, he sees you in your boyfriend's shirt, which rides up just a little bit when you stand up on your toes to reach the top cabinet. The lift of the shirt exposes the bottom of your underwear, though it falls back into place again just as quickly.

Now, lucky for this guy, Jason’s facing the door and does not see him checking you out in your own home. Unlucky for this guy, he has wildly misread the vibe of your relationship. Or at least your boyfriend.

“Man, how do you get anything done around here?” He jests.

Jason looks up at him, and the pizza man’s eyes tear away from your legs to meet his hard gaze. It does not take him long to realize his mistake.

“Try again.” Jason behests, arms crossed in front of him.

The pizza boy’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head, stuttering. “I—uh, I said have a good night.”

“Mhm.” He grumbles.

The pizza guy hands Jason the box with shaky hands and scuttles back down the hallway.

Thankfully, you didn’t seem to notice the exchange, but even so, your boyfriend still glowers down the hallway after him.

“Jay?”

His attention snaps back to you, demeanor changing instantly. “Yeah, baby?”

You’re sitting in your usual spot at the table, his chair empty and waiting just around the corner from you.

“Come sit.” You say, with eyes that might as well be hearts.

He gives a reassuring nod and kicks the door shut behind him.

You and Jason are sitting on the floor in his old room at the manor, your legs thrown over his. You lean up against his bed, asking him about posters on the walls and trinkets on the shelves.

His knee is propped up and your arm dangles across it, his hand in yours. He plays with your fingers and periodically leans forward to leave a kiss on them.

You’d just woken up less than an hour ago after spending the night post-gala, and it’s a peaceful, if not unusually quiet morning.

Dick shouts your name from another room, audibly booking it towards you. Yeah. That’s more like what Jason remembers.

He grumbles some annoyances, dropping his head against your intertwined hands.

Dick bursts into the room, clearly incredibly excited.

“What’s up, Dick?” You ask, calm as ever. Jason lets an unseen smile creep up, head still down.

Dick’s practically jumping up and down, “You gotta see the shit that Tim just found in the cave!” His face drops as he directs his gaze to Jason, “You’re not invited.”

“Thank God.”

Dick ignores him and grabs your wrist, yanking you up from the floor. This is one place where he differs from Jason—he’s not always quite so aware of his own strength.

His grip doesn’t hurt really, but it’s firm enough that you imagine there’ll be bruise marks there later.

“Hey.” Jason calls out, nodding his head to where Dick is holding your arm. “Ease up.”

Dick follows his gaze and immediately loosens his hold, apologizing to you before pulling you along once again (this time much more gentle).

You grin at Jason as he tugs you out the door, him returning it with an endeared smile as he watches you go.

Fuck he loves you.

Jason had a decent break from his night job for once, and was happy to let you drag him out to a bar for a little date. You’d been linked at the hip for most of the night, his hands maintaining their ever present home on your waist with yours rested on his thighs as you told him about your hectic day.

He’d usually prefer to stay in bed with you for as long as possible when he gets time off, but you’d looked so excited asking him to go out with you—he never stood a chance.

You look up into the mirror as you wash your hands, a strand of hair falling into your face as you do. You push it back behind your ear and smile to yourself, recalling the several times Jason had wordlessly done the same throughout the night as you rambled.

You make your way back to the bar, smile immediate on your face when you see your boyfriend. It gets replaced rather quickly though, when a man slides in front of you, cutting off your view of him.

“Hey there.”

You have to take a step back because of how close he decided to stand to you. He looks sober (enough) but wildly overconfident in whatevers about to happen.

"Let me buy you a drink, pretty thing."

Jason calls you pretty thing sometimes. It makes the blood rush to your cheeks and an inescapable smile creep up on your lips. When this guy says it, it makes you literally frown.

"Oh no, I'm okay, my—"

"You seem like a dirty martini kinda girl." He expertly ignores you, clearly trying and failing to make some kind of innuendo there.

Jason's sitting back against the bar, watching the interaction carefully. You still can’t see him, but he’s close and you can rest comfortable knowing he’s looking out for you.

With that reassurance, you don’t play this out quite as carefully as you would if you were alone.

"Look, I don't want a drink from you, thanks."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say to him because his face contorts quickly to mock-disgust that you figure is really just embarrassment.

“Hey, don’t be a bitch just ‘cause—”

You try to sidestep around him, thoroughly done with this interaction, but he grabs your upper arm harshly, pulling you to an abrupt stop.

Jason stands up real quick, yanking the guy backwards by his collar before you can even process what's happening.

Now, you know that Jason is an objectively intimidating guy. There's not many people that will come face to face with that absolute unit of a man and still decide to keep on trying him. However, you tend to forget that when you're so used to your gentle giant that only ever speaks to you kindly and touches you softly.

But his intimidating status becomes very apparent when the guy spins around, looks up at Jason, and immediately takes four steps back. He actually almost bumps into you in the process, not doing anything to tame Jason’s acute distaste for this man.

"Listen to me—back the fuck off before you get hurt."

“She—”

“I don’t give a fuck. Leave.”

The guy hesitates.

“Now.” Jason adjusts his posture to stand at his staggering full height, clearly with no qualms about putting him back in his place.

That does it for him, the man stumbllng away with half-committed mumbles of “whatever” or “something something lame anyway.”

Jason watches him until he walks out the door, before turning back to you.

He delicately takes your upper arm in his hand, pulling your sleeve up to search for bruising. But as harshly as he had grabbed you, it didn’t have the time to cause a bruise before Jason intervened.

“What’d he say to you?” Jason asks, brow furrowed as he inspects your arm.

“Nothing very interesting.” He looks at you mildly.

You smile and comb his hair back from his forehead, “Don’t worry about him. I’m good.”

He lets your arm go, and exchanges it for holding the back of your head, planting a kiss on your forehead.

You take his other hand and guide him back to your seats.

“Besides,” You look over his shoulder and let out a little shocked gasp. “Guess who just walked in.”

He gives you a questioning look before his face slacks, eyes widening in realization.

“No…” And you smile so brightly it almost makes up for what's coming his way.

You redirect your smile over his shoulder and give a wave to the door. Jason swigs down the rest of his drink, hand finding your waist once again.

“Jaybird!”

Jason’s still exhausted from patrol last night but he’d insisted on going with you to the bar to meet your friends. You’d tried to convince him that it was okay to stay in and rest tonight, you’d be fine. But it was a losing battle.

You suspect it has something to do with him not liking when you go out in Gotham at night, especially when you’re drinking.

So he hangs out in the background of the buzz, with you sat in front of him, in between his legs.

You’re talking it up with Roy, who’s been making jokes about how Jason’s “moody ass” tricked you, “the ray of sunshine” into this relationship somehow.

You laugh, taking a sip of your drink. “Right, ‘cause you and Kori were in love at first sight.”

"Oh, fuck off." Roy jeers.

He doesn't say it with the cadence of a joke, but it is.

You know he's joking, he knows he's joking.

Jason, who very well may have been tuned out of the conversation up to that point, does not seem to know he's joking—or he doesn't care.

You don't need to look behind you to know that your boyfriend is in defensive mode, though the look of regret mixed with amusement on Roy's face gives a solid hint.

You hold your hand out to block Jason his path as he moves forward. He lets you stop him, though you're certain he could get past you without so much as blinking, no problem.

"Right. My bad, forgot your guard dog was here. Don't fuck off." Roy backtracks, hands up in front of him.

Jason just rolls his eyes, slouching back down. You reach behind you for his hand, giving it two squeezes. You know he’s tired, so much so that he almost punched his best friend for making a typical joke.

“Five more minutes, okay?” You say softly over your shoulder.

He nods at you blearily, and ducks his head down to rest on your back. You adjust your posture a little bit to make it more comfortable for him and continue on talking, his hand still in yours.

If he hadn’t fallen asleep so quickly, five minutes would’ve been five minutes, but instead it became something more like fifty.

He goes through patches where sleep isn’t always so welcoming, a phase he’s been in for the past couple of weeks. You’d been waking up to find the bed half empty, your boyfriend resigned to doing research on cases in an attempt to at least be productive while he’s awake.

You can’t protect him in the same ways that he protects you—you’re not a fighter or necessarily “intimidating.” But you can protect him like this, in these little ways. Letting him nap on you, making him close the case files and rest with you, holding his hand throughout the night so that when he inevitably has nightmares, he knows immediately that you’re still with him. That he’s safe.

So if he can get some much needed sleep while only costing you a stiff back tomorrow, you’ll happily take that deal as many times as he needs.

vol. II

“MOVIE NIGHT FLUSTERS!”

WINDBREAKER BOYS + DATE NIGHTS. ft. nirei akihiko, sakura haruka x f!reader

filled requests: one & two !

summary: sakura and nirei always find themselves reduced to a flustered mess when it comes to you, but tonight— they want to try and switch things up for once.

sfw. 1.5K wc. (descriptors such as ‘blush’ and ‘red’ are only used on nirei & sakura, not the reader).

SAKURA HARUKA.

if you were to ask sakura to recite a single sentence from the movie that’s been playing for well over an hour, he wouldn’t be able to tell you.

he’s flinching when your thigh accidentally brushes against his own for the third time in the past ten minutes, his heartbeat picking up a little more each time you adjust your position on the couch. each touch makes it ten times harder to concentrate and twenty times harder for him to breathe. his breath catches in his throat, and he can practically feel his pulse quickening.

movies are usually well over an hour, he remembers. it’s not a guarantee that he’ll make it that long. not like this— not with the way your bare thigh is pressed flush against his own.

sakura manages to steal glances at you throughout the film, trying to gauge your current situation compared to his, so he’s in complete disbelief when he finds you seemingly unaffected by it all, your eyes struggling to stay open as you drift in and out of sleep.

how such a thing is even possible remains a complete mystery to him.

he’s left to shift uncomfortably all by himself, trying to shake off the persistent heat threatening to spread throughout his body. and it’s all because of you, like always. his struggles seem to only encourage you to put more of your weight on him, however, and your arm comes to loosely rest on his lap.

“h-hey,” his whisper comes out as a choked stammer, “you’re not even watching.”

he’s not either, but he doesn’t think about that right now. that’s why it takes him a couple seconds to process what had just happened when he feels a sudden weight plop onto his left shoulder. his eyes widen, and no— you couldn’t have.

there was no way.

the gentle snores his ears pick up on confirm it. you had fallen asleep on him— not on the plush pillows beside and behind you, but on him. sakura freezes in place, hands balled into sweaty fists and his shoulders tense— and he wonders for a moment if his heart might actually burst.

“h—h..” he tries to get your attention, but his words catch in his throat, and he’s unsure if it’s because his head is spinning with heat or because he doesn’t want to wake you up from your peaceful slumber.

he hates that he knows the way he’s slowly turning his head to face you would be hilarious to you- if you were awake, that is. he’s met with the sight of your serene expression, eyes gently shut as your mouth parts in a little o between breaths.

he’s never really seen you asleep before..

the realization hits him like a truck, furious red returning to spread to the tips of his ears, and he briefly wonders if it might spread throughout his entire body as well. there’s a little choked out noise of surprise from him, and an even louder slap when his hand comes to slam shut against his mouth a moment later.

you look so pretty like that.

you always look pretty to him, but it’s different when you’re not awake to tease and jab at him like you usually do. he thinks it’s a little less nerve wracking this way, and he plans on taking full advantage of the situation, tasking himself with memorizing every inch of your face while he still can.

his eyes look over your lips for a moment, watching the way your bottom lip juts out a bit from the way you’ve squashed your cheek against his shoulder. they look soft, and he’s never really paid attention to anyone’s lips until now.

he’s leaning in before he even realizes it, fingers instinctively coming to tilt your head to get a better look at you, then he’s leaning in a little more—

and his lips are on yours.

the kiss itself is soft, lips just barely ghosting over your own for a brief second, just enough for him to register what he’s done a couple moments later.

he blinks once. twice. a third time before his eyes are shooting wide open, inhaling sharply before he’s pulling back violently— or as violently as he can without moving his left shoulder. his palm slams against the bottom of his mouth before he can choke out a noise.

he didn’t mean to lean that close. not at all.

it takes him a minute to compose himself, even slightly, before he’s even able to sneak another glance at you, his eyes finally locking on yours— and oh, you were awake.

not only were you awake, but the face you’re making has his stomach erupting into butterflies all over again. your eyes are wide, the back of your hand nervously covering your mouth as you stare back at him dumbfounded. “sakura…”

“you’re kissing me in my sleep now?”

it doesn’t come out in the teasing tone you intended it to. instead, it comes out like a nervous whisper, and the look he’s giving you in response only worsens the heat that’s rising to your own face.

NIREI AKIHIKO.

“…are you nervous?” your voice breaks the silence.

the sound of your tv is playing softly in the background now, the screen casting a warm glow over your room. you think it’s much cozier this way, especially with the way the two of you are buried underneath your mound of throw blankets, body nestled snugly against your boyfriend’s side.

“no…i’m not!” he’s quick to protest, trying his best to come off as convincing as possible despite the rapid thumping of his heart. the way you press closer against him with each question is killing him, he thinks, and he’s pretty sure that you can tell just by the troublesome glint you have in your eyes.

“are you sure?”

your hand comes to gently trace over his jaw, palm cupping his cheek as his breath hitches involuntarily. you giggle at this, and it solidifies his theory— you can most definitely tell when he’s nervous.

“i-i’m sure,” he lies through his teeth, a rush of warmth spreading through him at your touch. you’ve always been exactly like this. so much so that nirei has started to wonder if maybe you could read his mind, because the way you always seem to know whenever he sneaks a glance your way is almost uncanny.

he thinks he does it so subtly too, just a small peek to the side to catch a glimpse of your face, but your head is always turning a second after his, knowing eyes narrowing at him before you’re teasing him once again, leaving him red and embarrassed before you’re laughing and resuming whatever you were doing before. and always so nonchalantly.

“hmm,” you muse, a small smile tugging at your lips, “you’re blushing though, nirei.”

he just wants to get a reaction out of you for once.

the burst of courage he gets is sudden, both hands coming to roughly cup your face, and it catches you completely off guard, your back hitting the wall behind you.

“oh?” you gasp, eyes widening a bit when he leans in closer. it’s a first for you, and the feeling you’re getting from this is foreign. very foreign.

“um, nirei?” your voice comes out a little quieter when his warm hands stay on your cheeks, “..you okay?”

this was definitely more like the reaction he’s always wanted to see from you, he thinks. a part of him is in disbelief that he was even able to pull this kind of expression from you in the first place.

it’s so very unlike you.

“i’m o-okay,” he stutters a bit, heart racing as he holds his gaze. it might be the only time he gets to see you like this, after all. “you’re always teasing me, and you never let me get a good look at you.”

“i just wanted to be the one to admire your face today.”

“h-huh? my face?” you blink, lips slightly parted in surprise before pressing together in a tight line. the look you’re giving him is to die for, and you don’t tease him like usual. you only stare at him with nervous eyes, breaking eye contact a second later.

it feels nice to see you like this.

your hand comes up to shyly brush over his own, fingers lingering over his, and he’s not sure if it’s a stretch— but there’s the possibility that you’re doing that because you’re not quite sure what to do with yourself when he’s gazing at you like that.

he knows that exact feeling so well, after all.

“yeah, your face,” he repeats, voice coming out a little less nervous now, “you’re so pretty. need to look at you more closely from now on.”

Hi! Can you do one of what the wind breaker guys are like on the PDA with a girlfriend who is very affectionate and that includes sugishita and taiga? Thanks🫶

We need more interactions between them please. They are so extra, they could be besties

Kyotaro Sugishita, Taiga Tsugeura x Affectionate! reader

Kyotaro Sugishita

He was a little uncomfortable with PDA. It was strange for him and he had the hardest time getting used to your soft touches. But he slowly adjusted to it. He wouldn't necessarily initiate it but he would let you hold his hand, sometimes even hug you back when you embraced him.

The only times he would be the first to instigate the contact was while he saw you nervous and scared. He knew that affection was your go-to, especially when you were anxious, so he would grab your hand and hold it tightly without a second thought.

Kyotaro seemed indifferent whenever you touched him but inside he was a panicked and flustered mess. You could rarely see him blush with his indifferent face.

As an affectionate person you liked PDA, and weren't afraid to show it, but you were skeptical because you weren't sure if he was 100% okay with it.

So once you heard older women talking about how it was unethical and awful, you doubted yourself. You could understand them if you really did something bad, but you were just standing with him, playing with his fingers, as the both of you waited for the bus. The doubt made you let go of his hand as you became nervous.

Kyotaro, however, as soon as he felt you letting go of him, became irritated. He huffed loudly glaring at the women. "Come here." He said looking at you and pulling you back to his side grabbing your hand and entangling your fingers together. "Huh?" You asked a little confused but also content that he didn't actually concern himself with the comments. "I don't mind it, so don't listen to them." He voiced, his thumb caressing the back of your hand while he continued glaring at the people who spoke up.

You felt better knowing that your touchiness didn't matter to Kyotaro. If someone said something like that again, he'd glare at them pulling you closer to him. He didn't care what they thought, or said, he just cared that you were happy.

Taiga Tsugerura

He wouldn't mind your touch at all. His muscles, his body, everything was for you, just as much as it was for him, that's what he would tell you.

He initiated the contact immediately when you were near him and didn't do it first. The feeling of your warm skin and body against him was pleasant and relaxing. He liked flexing in front of you while you were gushing over him and your hands moved all over his arms, it made his ego big and he felt very satisfied after the exhausting training he did.

Taiga loved to have you helping him with his workouts. He even searched through the Internet looking for couple exercises, especially the ones that let you be as close as you could. And so, you would be his frequent partner during workout routines. Doing pushups with you lying on top of him, crouches to kiss you, squats with you on his back. He would always make sure you're comfortable and enjoying yourself.

It didn't matter if you were in a public gym or exercising privately. "Oh God!" Someone once called when he saw you working out together. "Cut down on the PDA" He continued joyfully and then others joined. "You don't need to show off." "No need to remind us we're single." The voices mixed and soon laughter filled the gym. You also joined giggling to yourself and looked at the amused smile on Taiga's face.

People at the gym had enough of your lovey-dovey sessions, but it was their problem, not yours. Maybe he would tone down the touchiness, but just a little, when in the gym, in front of others, because he didn't want the two of you kicked out.

Tags: @misticbullet

fluff, apologising and making up after a 'fight' kind of drabble bc i miss suna <3

suna rintarou shows up to your university on the third day of the silent treatment.

the sight is a surprise, to say the least. your pro-volleyball player boyfriend standing outside your faculty’s building with his hands in his pockets, blending in with baggy jeans, a hoodie, and a cap. he looks the part of a university student, but you could never be fooled, not when he's 6'3 with an equally admirable stature from exercising.

amongst the crowd of outflowing students, the dark-haired spots you, olive eyes widening upon seeing you. he pushes himself onto two feet before walking over to where you stay rooted, dodging the students who just came out of the same lecture.

“hi,” suna greets, stopping just a few feet away from you. the sight of his lopsided smile is enough to get your heart racing again. you've missed him so much.

regardless, you cross your arms to keep up an angry front, not wanting to give in to his charms just yet no matter how good he may he at using them. 

“what are you doing here?” you ask bluntly, betraying the butterflies in your stomach.

his expression doesn’t falter at your iciness. “not happy to see me?”

you are happy to see him, very much so, especially when he has taken the initiative of literally showing up at your campus and waiting for your classes to be over to see you. he must be tired from practice as well and you know too well that mondays were never kind to him. 

so the fact that suna came all this way for you makes you feel a little special. 

he’s even wearing some of that cologne that you really like and unless it’s for special occasions, you know that your boyfriend is never bothered enough to wear any fragrance. he is so sly that you could kiss him.

“not particularly, suna.” you say in response, lying through your teeth.

suna clutches his chest like he’s been shot, making a gasp of offence at your statement. “babe, after i came all the way to campus? i thought i’d never want to come back here but i made some exceptions for the love of my life and this is what i get in return?” 

“suck it up, i guess.”

“-and who on earth is suna? never heard of him. can’t believe you’ve already forgotten my name after three days, i’m losing sight of reality, babe hold me, i might faint.”

“whatever,” you chuckle a little at his antics, eyes softening with a certain fondness that suna doesn’t miss. his lips twitch upwards at the sight of it.

this is his chance to win you back. he throws his line in in hopes of catching you hook and sinker. 

“let’s go to dinner tonight,” he offers, recovering from his previously downed position, voice contrastingly soft and gentle to smoothen his proposal. 

“what, so you can stand me up again?” you quip, instantly slicing the atmosphere to turn tense as the line snaps in half.

suna’s grin falls, morphing into a guilty frown. “c’mon pretty, that’s mean. you know how sorry i am, i didn’t mean to forget about our plans.”

you huff, letting your arms fall back to your sides. “i know, i know, but you standing me up just stung. it was frustrating because i made time for us that i could have used to study with instead,” you confess. “you know how stressed i’ve been with finals.”

the athlete stuffs his hands into his pockets awkwardly. “but i’m trying to make up for it.” 

“i know and i appreciate it, but now’s not a good time. i’m sorry but i can’t go to dinner tonight or any time soon, i have a bunch of practice tests to do that i can’t keep putting off.”

“then can i come over?” asks suna, a hopeful lilt to his voice.

“and watch me study? do you really want that?”

“i just want to be with you, i can order us takeout or something- on me.”

“guess i’m just irresistible, huh?”

“duh, do you know how much i suffered during the weekend? missed you so much, practically died from boredom.”

“oh so i’m just another person for you to bother? is that how it is?” you ask, unable to contain your smile. 

the dark-haired scoffs. “c’mon babes, you know you’re better than that. you’re the only person i can bother.”

“oh fuck off,” you whack his shoulder teasingly. “also for your information, you’re not coming between me and my education.”

“ambitious people are a turn-on,” he mutters with a shrug before pulling you in to kiss your cheek.

“ew get off me, freak,” you joke whilst shoving him, not rough enough to actually create distance but suna still stands his ground from the force. his hand goes to hold your other cheek as he smothers you with over-exaggerated affection. 

you laugh in his hold, holding on to his wrists for balance. “suna!” you yelp when he pushes too much weight onto you, causing the two of you to stumble sideways. “actually get off me.”

“can’t. won’t. don’t want to. this is what you get for not responding to me all weekend- what does  a man need to do to get a text back from the love of his life?” 

“easy. be a man.” you step out of his grasp with a satisfied smirk, beginning to walk away from your boyfriend who stares at you with his mouth hung open in disbelief. inevitably, suna runs up to you.

and as he encases you with his arms in the middle of the empty gardens of your university faculty, you know that the two of you will be okay. even if suna is the bane of your existence, there is no one else for you like him.