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Literature Text
i.
sometimes he lets you sleep in. sometimes he kisses your head before he gets out of bed.
sometimes, miyoshi is a fucking jerk in the morning.
ten am and boom, the curtains slam open and the first thing you see is the damn sun blinding you.
and then there's a smug, smiling miyoshi standing in front of the window. funny how the light practically illuminates him-- almost makes him look angelic. too bad you’re too angry to even acknowledge how pretty he looks.
“good afternoon.”
“it’s ten.”
a glance at the watch and a shrug.
“that’s late enough, isn’t it?”
the only answer he gets is a muffled groan as you go face first into the pillow, hoping for a miracle that somehow, this man will leave you alone. it’s hard enough to wake up in the mornings-- it's another thing to be woken up by your boyfriend that was specially sent from the deepest depths of hell. there’s a weird, suspicious silence, but you’re too disoriented to do anything about it.
“i guess i should make breakfast today.” miyoshi hums, taking another glance before leaving the room. three seconds. it’ll only take that long before it works.
one, two, three--
and he hears you scrambling out of bed, accidentally getting tangled in the sheets before running after him.
“i’m up, i’m up!”
amusement appears as he looks over his shoulder and raises a brow at your disheveled look, but you can’t register anything else. all your brain gets is “cooking” and “miyoshi”.
because if there’s one weakness mr. perfect has, it’s cooking.
ii.
miyoshi doesn’t sleep very much. he’s not one to take naps; apparently, it's just a waste of time when he could be doing something productive. when you see him knocked out on the couch, you can’t help but be taken aback. there’s an urge to snap a picture and show your friends, but you know they would never let him live it down.
besides, you don’t ever get to see him look this peaceful.
because he’s always smiling like an arrogant jerk.
still, your lips curl faintly and you realize that there’s never a moment you aren’t grateful for him. despite his strange quirks and know-it-all attitude, he’s always looking out for you. but the sentiment disappears when you look at that damn hair; you don’t know how it works or what physics goes behind it, but it’s always perfect. and he never lets you touch it.
cautiously, a hand reaches out--
and he wakes, fingers instinctively wrapping around your wrist before tugging you onto the couch. you only stare blankly at each other.
you don’t know how he does it. miyoshi can do pretty much anything and everything (aside from cooking, but you don’t like to acknowledge the tiny fire he started). he always manages to execute everything perfectly and has such a vast knowledge-- it makes you wonder exactly how that’s possible. it doesn't help that his intuition and instincts make him a few steps ahead of the game.
extensive, intensive training. that must be it.
with a deadpan gaze, you speak.
“i feel like you were a spy in your past life.”
“mhmm.”
a sleepy smile and the release of your wrist. he drifts off again.
iii.
“let me touch your hair.”
“you have hair, don’t you?”
“yeah, but mine doesn’t defy gravity.”
you speak with exasperation and he just shoots you a strange look, though he looks oddly satisfied with your determination, even if it may be to just touch his hair. he finds your persistence absolutely ridiculous, yet somehow adorable. but of course, he’s never going to tell you something like that.
the others already tease him about your relationship; as much as he tries to hide it, they catch him staring at you with such gentleness-- something far unfamiliar to them. even when they tell you, you just scoff and roll your eyes at them before miyoshi grabs your hand and drags you away.
“you’ve touched it before.” he reminds you nonchalantly. “at night.”
he forces back a sigh at your thinking face.
"is there really a need to spell it out?" he asks, a hand resting on his hip. "during--"
oh.
he expects you to become flustered, neutral visage watching as your brows raise in realization. but you just brush him off.
“that’s different. i’m distracted.”
a tinge of annoyance when you see him smirk.
“why? can’t think when i’m kissing you?”
iv.
actually, yes. you really can’t.
this is yet another thing he’s right about and you’re never going to admit it, but all thoughts flee when he kisses you harder; his fingers lightly tracing circles on your thigh while your hand automatically goes for his hair. but he smacks it away and you can almost hear him laugh against your lips as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you onto his lap before you can even jerk away in shock.
“you’re an idiot.” you mumble in between kisses, though you can’t help but smile against him.
suddenly, the world turns and your back hits the bed; a sly expression meets your content one as his nose touches yours.
“hm?” feign curiosity mixes with mischief. “i must have misheard. care to say it again?”
“idiot.”
he chuckles before you pull him in for another kiss.
v.
“you can’t wake me up early after that.” you murmur, watching as his chest rises and falls in time with your breathing.
“ten isn’t early.”
“it is for normal people.”
“thirty more minutes.”
“deal. but don’t wake me up by throwing the sun in my face.”
he lets out an airy laugh before turning towards you with a rare, genuine smile.
you gasp and it falters right away. of course. he never gives you that look, so it’s almost certain someone will tease him for being endearing even if it’s for a split second.
“your hair is messed up.”
ah. that’s why.
a brief moment of surprise-- but then he runs a hand through brunet locks and damn it--
his hair is back to being perfect.
another deadpan look before a sigh leaves you.
“screw you.”
“you just did.”
sometimes he lets you sleep in. sometimes he kisses your head before he gets out of bed.
sometimes, miyoshi is a fucking jerk in the morning.
ten am and boom, the curtains slam open and the first thing you see is the damn sun blinding you.
and then there's a smug, smiling miyoshi standing in front of the window. funny how the light practically illuminates him-- almost makes him look angelic. too bad you’re too angry to even acknowledge how pretty he looks.
“good afternoon.”
“it’s ten.”
a glance at the watch and a shrug.
“that’s late enough, isn’t it?”
the only answer he gets is a muffled groan as you go face first into the pillow, hoping for a miracle that somehow, this man will leave you alone. it’s hard enough to wake up in the mornings-- it's another thing to be woken up by your boyfriend that was specially sent from the deepest depths of hell. there’s a weird, suspicious silence, but you’re too disoriented to do anything about it.
“i guess i should make breakfast today.” miyoshi hums, taking another glance before leaving the room. three seconds. it’ll only take that long before it works.
one, two, three--
and he hears you scrambling out of bed, accidentally getting tangled in the sheets before running after him.
“i’m up, i’m up!”
amusement appears as he looks over his shoulder and raises a brow at your disheveled look, but you can’t register anything else. all your brain gets is “cooking” and “miyoshi”.
because if there’s one weakness mr. perfect has, it’s cooking.
ii.
miyoshi doesn’t sleep very much. he’s not one to take naps; apparently, it's just a waste of time when he could be doing something productive. when you see him knocked out on the couch, you can’t help but be taken aback. there’s an urge to snap a picture and show your friends, but you know they would never let him live it down.
besides, you don’t ever get to see him look this peaceful.
because he’s always smiling like an arrogant jerk.
still, your lips curl faintly and you realize that there’s never a moment you aren’t grateful for him. despite his strange quirks and know-it-all attitude, he’s always looking out for you. but the sentiment disappears when you look at that damn hair; you don’t know how it works or what physics goes behind it, but it’s always perfect. and he never lets you touch it.
cautiously, a hand reaches out--
and he wakes, fingers instinctively wrapping around your wrist before tugging you onto the couch. you only stare blankly at each other.
you don’t know how he does it. miyoshi can do pretty much anything and everything (aside from cooking, but you don’t like to acknowledge the tiny fire he started). he always manages to execute everything perfectly and has such a vast knowledge-- it makes you wonder exactly how that’s possible. it doesn't help that his intuition and instincts make him a few steps ahead of the game.
extensive, intensive training. that must be it.
with a deadpan gaze, you speak.
“i feel like you were a spy in your past life.”
“mhmm.”
a sleepy smile and the release of your wrist. he drifts off again.
iii.
“let me touch your hair.”
“you have hair, don’t you?”
“yeah, but mine doesn’t defy gravity.”
you speak with exasperation and he just shoots you a strange look, though he looks oddly satisfied with your determination, even if it may be to just touch his hair. he finds your persistence absolutely ridiculous, yet somehow adorable. but of course, he’s never going to tell you something like that.
the others already tease him about your relationship; as much as he tries to hide it, they catch him staring at you with such gentleness-- something far unfamiliar to them. even when they tell you, you just scoff and roll your eyes at them before miyoshi grabs your hand and drags you away.
“you’ve touched it before.” he reminds you nonchalantly. “at night.”
he forces back a sigh at your thinking face.
"is there really a need to spell it out?" he asks, a hand resting on his hip. "during--"
oh.
he expects you to become flustered, neutral visage watching as your brows raise in realization. but you just brush him off.
“that’s different. i’m distracted.”
a tinge of annoyance when you see him smirk.
“why? can’t think when i’m kissing you?”
iv.
actually, yes. you really can’t.
this is yet another thing he’s right about and you’re never going to admit it, but all thoughts flee when he kisses you harder; his fingers lightly tracing circles on your thigh while your hand automatically goes for his hair. but he smacks it away and you can almost hear him laugh against your lips as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you onto his lap before you can even jerk away in shock.
“you’re an idiot.” you mumble in between kisses, though you can’t help but smile against him.
suddenly, the world turns and your back hits the bed; a sly expression meets your content one as his nose touches yours.
“hm?” feign curiosity mixes with mischief. “i must have misheard. care to say it again?”
“idiot.”
he chuckles before you pull him in for another kiss.
v.
“you can’t wake me up early after that.” you murmur, watching as his chest rises and falls in time with your breathing.
“ten isn’t early.”
“it is for normal people.”
“thirty more minutes.”
“deal. but don’t wake me up by throwing the sun in my face.”
he lets out an airy laugh before turning towards you with a rare, genuine smile.
you gasp and it falters right away. of course. he never gives you that look, so it’s almost certain someone will tease him for being endearing even if it’s for a split second.
“your hair is messed up.”
ah. that’s why.
a brief moment of surprise-- but then he runs a hand through brunet locks and damn it--
his hair is back to being perfect.
another deadpan look before a sigh leaves you.
“screw you.”
“you just did.”
Literature
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[NOTES]
✿ female!Reader
✿ modern!AU
✿ [insp.] [❀]
✿ there is swearing. gomen
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when you cope with a character's death by writing 2 1k word fics in a row
oops
i thought of a modern!au for joker game yesterday because tbh it seems hilarious. you just get 8 sassy guys in the end
agaIN this is for miintbun!! thank you for listening to all my headcanons and helping me with the story aAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
fight me, punk
thanks for reading :^)
oops
i thought of a modern!au for joker game yesterday because tbh it seems hilarious. you just get 8 sassy guys in the end
agaIN this is for miintbun!! thank you for listening to all my headcanons and helping me with the story aAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
fight me, punk
thanks for reading :^)
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Miyoshiii t^t
I'm still not over it. It's been months and I'm still not over it. Like damn! I liked him from minute one and then episode 11 happened. I should have known :C
I'm still not over it. It's been months and I'm still not over it. Like damn! I liked him from minute one and then episode 11 happened. I should have known :C