#i'm just saying. i did mirror him as part of my mask and i was clocked So Easy

[forgetmenoct]

dan and phil should do another internet quizzes dapg video, if i can suggest a couple the uh. raads-r and monotropism uh. personality. quizzes. woule be interesting :)

[dksfml]

Love 119 [Part Two]

part of my paramedic!jungwon series. [part one]

pairing: paramedic!jungwon x doctor!reader genre: enemies at work, lovers at home. secret dating. jungwon is hot when jealous, suggestive, fluff summary: your coworkers think that you and niki look cute together while jungwon, your boyfriend is literally standing next to you and it's driving him insane. word count: 3.5k author's note: hey everyone! as promised, i'm here to serve another paramedic jungwon brainrot because it's not fair to just devour this cutesy alone. enjoy and leave some notes <3 read part 1 first and reply if you want to get tagged for the next parts!

You’re midway through a lukewarm coffee in the hospital cafeteria when your coworker leans in, voice low and eyes gleaming with intrigue. “So…” she starts, drawing the word out slowly, “who’s the lucky guy?”

It takes you a second, but the question sinks in just as she tilts her head, nodding toward your neck with a smirk. Your hand instinctively rises to the spot Jungwon’s lips had claimed last night, right at the juncture of your neck and shoulder—a parting gift as you’d curled up together, something you didn’t think twice about until now.

A blush surges to your cheeks. “What? Oh, no, that’s… I scratched it too hard,” you say quickly, heat rising not only from the surprise but the memory of last night—Jungwon’s sleepy grin, the way he’d pulled you close, whispering in your ear as he pressed soft kisses down the curve of your neck.

“Sure you did,” she teases, crossing her arms as her smirk widens. “You’re going to need a better excuse than that. So… is it Niki?”

“What?” you laugh, the idea so out of the blue it’s almost comical. “Niki? Why would you even think that?”

She shrugs, the smugness on her face never faltering. “You always have a soft spot for him. You never scold him like the rest of us. Plus, everyone’s seen the way he hovers around you in the halls, he’s clearly smitten.”

Your eyes widen at the notion. Niki, your young, eager junior who fumbles his way through shifts and who you can’t help but look after because he’s new and a little too starry-eyed for his own good? It’s laughable. “It’s not like that,” you manage, shaking your head. “He’s just… young, that’s all.”

“Mhmm,” she says with a knowing chuckle. “Sure, if you say so.”

Before you can protest further, your phone vibrates. Glancing down, you find a message from Jungwon: a photo of his lunch, neatly arranged with a sweet message beneath it. “Eat well, ily.”

The casual intimacy of it makes your stomach flip, and you feel an involuntary smile tugging at your lips. You quickly swipe away the notification, hoping she didn’t see the smile or the faint hearts in your eyes.

The day unfolds in the usual rush of patient check-ins, chart updates, and emergency calls. You busy yourself to the point where the cafeteria conversation drifts from your mind—until you catch a glimpse of yourself in the break room mirror and spot the faint outline of that now-infamous hickey, the concealer having barely managed to mask it. You tug your collar higher, hoping to hide it through the rest of the shift.

The afternoon in the ER has been a blur of movement and urgency, leaving you barely a moment to breathe. Every time an ambulance pulls up, your heart skips a beat, half-hoping, half-dreading that it’ll be Jungwon walking through those doors.

But each time, it’s someone else, and you return to the steady rhythm of your work, instructing Niki at your side as he follows your lead. Despite the tense environment, he’s attentive and focused, learning from you as he manages each step of the patient’s treatment with remarkable ease.

Afterward, you and Niki head back to the department office, the adrenaline settling as you both chat lightly, unwinding from the chaotic pace. As you enter, you spot Jungwon down the corridor, heading the other way with a stack of documents.

It’s almost comical how, even amidst the bustling hospital, his presence stands out so starkly to you. For a split second, he glances your way, and the fleeting moment feels charged, pulling your attention and making it impossible to look away. But as soon as your eyes meet, you glance down, hoping no one notices how that brief connection leaves your pulse racing.

Once back at your desk, you feel your coworkers’ eyes on you, their curious glances flickering between you and Niki. You try to brush it off as nothing, settling into your usual seat, with Niki across from you. Just as you’re starting to sift through some files, Jungwon’s familiar stride enters the department office.

His easy confidence fills the room, and he greets everyone with that understated charm, heading to a nearby colleague to ask for specific documents. You’re not even looking at him, but his presence is impossible to ignore. You focus on your papers, hoping that looking busy might steady your nerves, but the pages blur in front of you, your mind too distracted by the fact that he’s just a few steps away.

Then, just as you’re juggling a pile of documents, you accidentally knock over your iced coffee. The mostly empty cup clatters over, spilling what’s left onto your coat. The moment the coffee splashes onto your coat, Niki and Jungwon are both at your side in an instant. Niki’s quick to pull out a box of tissues, while Jungwon silently holds out a pristine handkerchief, a touch of annoyance already flickering in his gaze.

Caught off-guard, you instinctively reach for Niki’s tissues, leaving Jungwon standing there with his handkerchief, his jaw tightening slightly as he watches you dab at the stain.

Your coworkers notice the scene and immediately latch onto it, their laughter filling the room. "Oh, come on, you two," one of them teases, grinning at the pair of you. "Why don’t you just date already?”

Another chimes in, "Yeah, it’s obvious there’s something going on. I mean, look how attentive Niki is—always ready to help you out."

You wave them off, laughing it away, but the teasing only grows louder. Someone else playfully nudges Niki. "What’s next, bringing her coffee in the morning?"

Niki laughs, scratching the back of his head, visibly flustered. "Come on, guys, we’re just… coworkers," he insists, though his blush only adds fuel to the fire.

Meanwhile, you can feel Jungwon’s gaze on you, sharper and more intense than ever. His silence speaks volumes; the usual relaxed confidence he carries seems to be tinged with something harder, a jealousy that simmers just beneath the surface. It unsettles you, tugging at something guilty inside as the teasing around you grows.

Suddenly, Jungwon steps forward to you, interrupting the chatter with a clipped tone. "Enough with the tissues,” he says, leveling his gaze at you, a glint of challenge in his eyes. "Stop fussing with that coat—you’re only making it worse. Change into something clean, or the smell will stick with you all day.”

The room falls silent, your coworkers exchanging amused glances. You roll your eyes, unwilling to let him get the last word.

“Oh, thank you, Mr. Practicality. I can handle a few drops of coffee,” you retort, folding your arms and meeting his gaze with a defiant tilt of your chin.

He raises an eyebrow, a slow smirk forming on his lips.

"Right, because dealing with a coffee stain is something you’re well-prepared for," he says dryly, folding his arms to match yours. "Clearly, practicality isn’t your strong suit."

You scoff, refusing to back down. "And since when did you become an expert in coffee stain management? It’s barely noticeable, and I’m perfectly fine with it."

Jungwon’s gaze doesn’t waver, the challenge sparking between you both as he leans in just a fraction, his voice lower. "Just because you’re fine with it doesn’t mean everyone else is." His eyes flick down to the stain and then back up to yours, a knowing glint in them.

Your coworkers are watching with raised brows, amused but also visibly intrigued by the tension between the two of you. "Are we interrupting something?” one of them jokes, breaking the silence. "Honestly, the way you two bicker is like a married couple."

The comment makes you blush, but Jungwon doesn’t flinch. Instead, he holds your gaze, his smirk deepening. "At least one of us knows how to handle these little emergencies,” he quips, voice steady, though there’s a hint of something raw behind his eyes—a hint of jealousy that only you can catch. The way he’s looking at you, there’s no mistaking it: he’s anything but amused by the teasing around Niki.

But before you can respond, Niki steps forward, awkwardly placing his coat over your chair. “Um, here,” he says, clearly trying to ease the tension. “You can wear mine for now if the coffee’s bothering you that much.”

The room erupts into more laughter, someone nudging Niki with a grin. "See? He’s a gentleman. Really, you two should just make it official."

Another coworker teases, "Or maybe they already have, and they’re just not telling us."

Jungwon’s expression hardens as he watches the exchange, his eyes narrowing. His gaze flickers from Niki to you, a frustration simmering beneath his calm facade.

You feel the tension growing, an almost tangible weight of jealousy in the way his jaw clenches, his fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh.

Finally, he speaks up, cutting through the laughter with a controlled but slightly irritated tone. "Enough of the matchmaking." His gaze falls pointedly on you, something possessive flickering there, though he masks it quickly. "And you should change. That coffee smell won’t just vanish."

You narrow your eyes at him, refusing to back down. "If it bothers you so much, why don’t you bring me a change of clothes yourself?"

"Thanks," he says shortly, taking the stack of paperwork with a polite nod. He turns back to you and your coworkers, offering a quick, “See you all later. Take care, everyone.” His voice is casual, but as his gaze lingers on you for a fraction of a second longer, you feel the weight of everything left unsaid.

With that, Jungwon strides toward the door, his usual self-assured calm back in place. You watch him leave, but just as he reaches the exit, your phone buzzes in your hand. You glance down, your pulse quickening as you read the message from him:

“I have something you can change into in the back of the car.”

It’s simple, yet there’s something about it that makes your stomach flip. You glance up just in time to catch Jungwon’s silhouette disappearing down the hallway, feeling the tension of the moment linger in the air long after he’s gone.

The rest of your shift rolls by with its usual demands, and you brush off the incident from earlier, deciding against getting the change of clothes Jungwon offered. By the time you finally clock out, the sun is setting, casting a warm glow over the nearly empty parking lot. Just as you step out of the hospital doors, Jungwon’s car pulls up in front of the exit.

You feel a small smile tugging at your lips as you walk over and slip into the passenger seat. “Hey,” you greet him, but his focus remains straight ahead, his hands firm on the wheel, his paramedic uniform clinging to his form. The sight of him in that navy blue uniform, complete with the badge and patches, usually makes your heart race, but today his expression is unreadable. A flicker of surprise hits you. Jungwon, who is usually quick with a playful remark, doesn’t even turn his head as you settle in, leaving you feeling a bit deflated.

You tilt your head, watching him closely, noticing the slightest crease of annoyance in his brow. With a slight pout, you try breaking the ice, “So, how was your day?”

He answers, but his tone is clipped, barely more than a few words. "Busy. The usual."

You blink, feeling a hint of tension in the air. Normally, he’d be cracking jokes or filling the car with easy chatter, but now he’s focused on the road with a seriousness that feels almost uncharacteristic.

Leaning back in your seat, you give him a sideways glance. “Is this about the clothes?” you finally ask, crossing your arms as you look at him. “Are you upset I didn’t change into them?”

A quick denial. “No,” he says, a bit too fast, but still refusing to look your way.

You can’t help but smile a little, noticing his hands gripping the wheel tighter than usual. “Uh-huh. Doesn’t sound like you’re not upset,” you tease, leaning forward to get a better look at his face.

“I’m not upset,” he repeats, but he’s biting his lip, eyes fixed stubbornly ahead as if he’s hyper-focused on the road. His brow furrows, and he lets out a soft sigh.

“Come on, Jungwon, it’s cute when you sulk,” you say, your smile widening at the way his jaw clenches ever so slightly, revealing his irritation in the most subtle way.

This finally gets a reaction. He glances at you, his eyes narrowing just a little. “I’m not sulking,” he mumbles, but the denial lacks its usual conviction.

“You look pretty sulky to me,” you murmur, enjoying the rare moment of catching him off guard.

Just then, the car comes to a stop at a red light, and you glance over to find him holding a long breath, his expression somewhere between frustration and fondness. The tension in the air shifts slightly as he turns his gaze towards you, and in that moment, you feel the familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

Without breaking eye contact, he places his right hand gently on your lap, rubbing small circles with his thumb. The warmth of his touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, igniting that familiar spark between you two. It’s a simple gesture, yet it feels so intimate, especially with the way he’s staring at you as if he’s trying to convey everything he can’t say out loud.

He resumes driving as the light turns green, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead, but his voice softens, a hint of vulnerability slipping through the usual bravado. “I’m not upset,” he assures you, though the sincerity behind his words hints at something deeper, something he’s wrestling with beneath the surface.

You can’t help but smile at him, the weight of his earlier mood lifting slightly. “Then what’s with the whole silent treatment? You know you can just tell me, right?”

Jungwon shakes his head, a faint smile creeping onto his face despite his mood.

“It’s more complicated than that,” he says, his voice maintaining a lightness that’s undercut by an earnest edge. “I don’t want to be the guy who gets all worked up over people assuming you and Niki are a thing.”

You bite your lip, the realization sinking in that his jealousy is more about their perceptions than the spilled coffee earlier.

“Well, I’m definitely not dating Niki,” you reply softly, trying to ease his tension. “He’s just a good coworker. You know that.”

He glances at you briefly, the corner of his mouth twitching in a smile as he focuses back on the road.

“Good,” he mutters, his hand still gently rubbing your thigh, sending tingles coursing through you. The intimacy of the gesture makes your heart race.

He passes another intersection and accelerates, the car moving smoothly through the streets.

“But you know,” you continue, trying to keep the mood light, “if you were just a little quicker with your offer, I wouldn’t have to deal with all this teasing.”

Jungwon lets out a soft chuckle, the tension in the car easing slightly. “I thought I was quick enough,” he says, a playful tone returning to his voice. “How was I supposed to know you’d be so stubborn?”

“Stubborn? Me? Never,” you tease, rolling your eyes dramatically.

He shakes his head with a laugh, his grip tightening slightly on your thigh, a subtle reminder of the unspoken bond between you two. As he navigates the streets, the silence stretches comfortably, punctuated only by the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sound of traffic.

“Hey, you should know,” you add after a moment, “if you want to make sure I’m not wearing Niki’s clothes, maybe you should just… keep me in yours.”

Jungwon raises an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Is that your way of saying you want me to dress you?”

“Maybe,” you reply coyly, biting your lip again, the playful banter making you feel bold.

He laughs, shaking his head as he pulls into a quiet parking lot. “You really know how to make me feel like I’m the jealous one, huh?”

“Just speaking the truth,” you say, leaning back into the seat, enjoying the rhythm of the moment.

As he turns off the engine, the atmosphere shifts slightly, the playful banter fading into a more intimate silence. Jungwon finally meets your gaze, his expression earnest. “Just so you know, it’s not about Niki. I just…” he trails off, searching for the right words. “I want to be the one you lean on, the one you trust.”

Your heart swells at his confession, a warmth spreading through you. “You are, Jungwon. You’re the one I always want to lean on.”

He smiles, a genuine light returning to his eyes, and in that moment, everything feels right.

When you arrive at your apartment, Jungwon opens the door for you, the familiar scent of your space washing over you. As soon as you step inside, he follows closely behind, and before you can even set your bag down, he closes the door and turns to face you.

In an instant, the air between you shifts. Jungwon steps forward, his hands gripping your waist as he pulls you closer. You barely have time to react before he captures your lips with his in a deep, passionate kiss that takes your breath away. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you and the electric tension that crackles in the air.

His lips move against yours with a fervor that surprises you, and you feel your heart racing, responding instinctively as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He deepens the kiss, his mouth coaxing yours open as he explores the sweetness of your taste. It’s intoxicating, and you lose yourself in the moment, your worries and doubts melting away.

In the midst of the kiss, he breaks away for just a moment, breathless and looking down at you with those soft eyes. “I can still smell the coffee,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You giggle, feeling heat rise to your cheeks, the reminder of the earlier incident making you giddy. “Well, I didn’t exactly plan for that to happen,” you reply, your voice teasing but breathless.

“Maybe I should get you a proper change of clothes next time,” he quips, his eyes sparkling with mischief. But then he adds, more seriously, “You should probably take those off; the smell will cling to you.”

His suggestion sends a thrill through you, and you find yourself biting your lip in excitement. “Are you sure that’s the only reason you want me to take them off?” you tease, your heart racing as you lean closer, feeling the warmth radiating from him.

He chuckles softly, but there’s a glint of something deeper in his eyes. “Okay, maybe it’s a little selfish,” he admits, his breath ghosting over your skin as he moves in even closer.

With a playful grin, you decide to indulge him. “Fine, but only if you do too,” you say, your fingers finding the buttons of his uniform. You start to unbutton it, your hands trembling slightly with anticipation. Each button that comes undone reveals more of his toned physique, and your breath hitches as you take in the sight of him.

As your fingers glide over the fabric, Jungwon watches you, his expression a mixture of desire and admiration. “You know, this might be the best idea you’ve ever had,” he murmurs, his voice low and enticing.

You finally push the uniform off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. In that moment, the playful atmosphere shifts into something more intimate. He captures your lips again, and you feel the heat between you both intensify as you pull away the last barriers that had been keeping you apart.

Just when you think it can't get any more intense, he pulls back slightly, his forehead resting against yours, both of you gasping for air. “I’ve wanted to do that all day,” he admits, his breath mingling with yours, creating a palpable tension that thrums in the air.

“Why didn’t you?” you ask, your voice teasing yet filled with warmth.

“You know I can’t let everyone find out I’m dating the hottest doctor in the hospital, or else…” he argues, a playful grin breaking through his earlier seriousness.

“Oh, please,” you bite back with a smirk, playfully nudging him. “Like they wouldn’t notice that the ‘sexiest and charming paramedic’ is completely smitten.”

With a smile that could light up the room, you lean in for another kiss, feeling the world around you fade away once again as you get lost in him.

[purple-obsidian]

appearances (18+, dick grayson x fem reader) wc 6.7k

⭓ this post contains sexual content and is not suitable for minors. special shoutout to @janybabyy for helping me edit this monstrosity. reader is a member of the titans, afab, uses she/her pronouns, and has an established friendship with dick.

Dick's arm is draped around your waist, holding your body close while his enchanting laughter rings in your ear, reacting to a story being told by the other couple sharing the elevator.

"I'm telling the truth! Swear on my life, he actually said that!" The man across from you says, grinning and chuckling. A soft ding grabs your attention, and you clear your throat, looking up at Dick with a soft smile.

"Well, this is our floor. We'll see you in the morning!" You promise, letting Dick pick up your suitcase for you and lead the way. You make your way down the hallway, reading the room numbers as you get closer to the one the receptionist scribbled on your key card. You feel exhausted, and after a long day of pretending to be a happy couple with your teammate, you're happy that it's finally time to rest. You retrieve the room key from your pocket when you finally reach your door, and open it wide for Dick so he can carry your bags in.

You flick the light switch on, taking in the cheap carpeting, generic artwork, and a single queen bed centered on the far wall. "Um... Dick?"

"Hm?" He turns to you, looking just as tired as you feel, no longer fronting as an excited newly-wed. "What is it?"

"Didn't you request a room with two beds?"

His bright blue eyes dart to the singular bed, shoulders slumping in defeat when he realizes there was a mix up in your reservation. "Shit. Lemme call the front desk."

"They're probably full," you comment, letting yourself fall into one of the chairs by the window, sinking down with a tired sigh and kicking off your heels, "Between the convention and the concert this weekend, I'll be shocked if they have any other rooms free."

Dick ignores you, setting down your luggage and walking over to the corded phone on the bedside table. He picks up the receiver, punches the button for guest services, and waits patiently for them to answer. You take a deep breath, relaxing and letting your mind wander as he speaks with the operator, who confirms that there are no more rooms available.

Dick hangs up the phone with a grumble, glancing behind him to look at you.

"Told you so." You chide, a playful grin on your lips.

"I'm sorry," Dick plops himself down on the side of the bed and groans. "There isn't even a pull-out couch."

"We'll be fine," You tell him dismissively, yawning and stretching your hands over your head, "It's only a few nights."

"I can sleep on the floor if you'd be more comfortable that way," He offers, rubbing his eyes.

"As long as you keep your hands to yourself, we'll be fine."

The first night you share a bed, Dick does keep his hands to himself. You're both so exhausted that you fall into a deep sleep almost immediately, making your proximity less awkward. You toss and turn here and there, but otherwise, the night goes on without issue.

The second night is another story.

After another long day of working undercover as newlyweds attending a couples conference, you and Dick are at each other's throats over a disagreement regarding the innocence of the man leading it. You both act your part all day. You kiss his cheek when others are looking. Dick makes an pointed effort to be handsy, ensuring he's touching you in some way whenever appropriate. But once you're in the privacy of the hotel room, the masks come down, and you are at each other's throats, arguing in hushed tones and bickering over what you observed today.

"Why the fuck did you invite me along on this mission if you didn't want my opinion?" You ask harshly, fumbling with the clasp of your necklace as you stand in front of the bathroom mirror, attempting to remove it so you can shower.

"I couldn't have come alone! It would have been suspicious, and Donna was busy, so you were my only option!"

"Gee, thanks Dick. That makes me feel real good about myself." You hiss, fumbling again with the tiny clasp, "Why couldn't you bring Wally?"

"You know our suspect is homophobic, if I showed up with a man as my partner there's no way I'd be able to get close enough to him!" Dick notices you struggling with your necklace. He sighs, and runs his fingers through his hair in frustration, "Need some help with that?"

"Fuck off," You mumble dismissively, giving up your efforts, "Screw it, I'll just leave it on."

You reach for the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head, throwing it angrily to the ground. Dick watches, eyes widening a little, unable to stop himself from checking you out and admiring the lacy bra you're wearing, his anger diffusing.

"You mind? I need to shower, give me some privacy," You snap, waving your hand at him dismissively.

“You’re too stubborn for your own good,” Dick growls, coming up behind you, sandwiching your body between him and the vanity, “Hold still.”

You huff, but relax and accept his help remove the chain. His hands are warm against your neck, quickly unclasping the lock and setting the necklace down next to you. You choose to ignore the way his eyes wander, admiring your reflection in the mirror.

“Thanks,” You grumble, your annoyance quickly subsiding, but you keep your eyes narrowed at him.

Maybe you are a bit stubborn.

“Yeah, yeah. Just hurry up, okay? I gotta shower too,” He reminds you before leaving the bathrrom, stealing one last glance at your half naked body and closing the door behind him.

Feeling bitter, you take your time with an extra long, extra hot shower, shaving your legs, exfoliating, deep conditioning your hair, not caring if you’re being petty. You linger, too, lotioning your whole body and applying your hair products, not missing a single step in your routine.

When you finally exit the steamy bathroom, Dick is sitting at the small desk in your room, doing something on his laptop. You walk out in your robe, smoothing your freshly washed hair and making your way over to your suitcase.

“Took you long enough,” Dick comments, giving you a pointed side-eye.

“Sorry,” You mumble, rummaging around for your sleep clothes, “All yours now.”

Waiting until he finishes up and locks himself in the bathroom, you quickly change and crawl into your side of the bed, cozying up to the pillow that smells faintly of bleach. You relax, listening to the muffled sound of running water coming from the bathroom. He's quick enough that you're still awake when he's done. Dick exits the bathroom, hair dripping wet, wearing nothing but his boxers.

"You used all the hot water."

You peek an eye open to glare at him, resenting his accusation, "It's a hotel, Dick. It's going to take a lot more than my twenty minute shower to make the whole building run out of hot water. Maybe you just don't know how to work the faucet."

You notice him shivering, and a pang of guilt eats away at you. But you stand by what you said.

"You took at least 30 minutes. And are you kidding me? You think I'm the type of guy that can't figure out a faucet?"

"Well, no, before this little trip of ours, I didn't think that. But seeing as you can't figure out our guy is guilty when the evidence is laid out in front of you like Thanksgiving dinner, my opinion on your intelligence might be changing."

He grinds his teeth, popping his jaw and clenching his fists at his side until his knuckles crack, "Shoulda brought Wally."

You lift your head so you can glare at him with both eyes, but Dick is already grabbing the comforter and sheet to yank them off the bed, leaving you shivering and exposed.

"Whatthefuck?!" You shriek, pulling your knees to your chest reflexively at the rush of cold air.

Dick jumps onto the bed, pulling the blankets over both of you, and with little effort he pulls your body against his, "I'm fucking freezing." He hisses through gritted teeth, "And I'm about to make it your problem.”

The chill radiating off of his stone-cold chest and body quickly seeps through the thin cotton of your t-shirt and sleep shorts. Flinching, you shiver and claw at the edge of the bed to pull yourself away from him. "Dick! G-Get off of me! This isn't f-funny!" You stammer in desperation.

"No, it isn't."

You long for the satisfaction of smacking the smirk off of him. You can't even see his face since your back is to him, but when you hear his taunting, you just know the cocky bastard is smiling. His strong, cold arms force your back to go flush with his chest again as he wrestles with you, utilizing his jiu-jitsu skills to pin you under him and prevent you from escaping his grasp.

"GET. OFF!!" You yell again.

Dick promptly slaps his right hand over your mouth, bringing his lips to your ear and shushing you. "Remember, we're in a hotel. People could hear you if you screamed. Last thing we need to do is blow our cover."

You groan and struggle to shake your head free of his hand, which is fruitless, but Dick takes pity on you and removes his hand after watching you struggle for a moment.

"This is assault, you know," You growl at him angrily, "You're h-holding me against my will."

"Oh please, I've done worse to you during training. You're fine. Just let me hold you for a minute until I can warm up. You owe me that much," Dick holds you closer to him, and he isn't lying, He really is as cold as an ice cube. Keeping you pinned against the bed, he holds you, fearful that you'll shy away and refuse to share your body heat. But you know when you're beat. The soft spot you have for him trumps your annoyance, and you accept your fate.

You really didn't mean to make him suffer, you just took a tad longer washing yourself than normal. Could it really be your fault that there was no hot water? You take these next few minutes of discomfort to ponder the specifics of hotel plumbing, doing anything to distract yourself from the chill.

Dick notices the subtle shift as you try to relax your body and regulate your breathing. There's something in the way you feel, your body going from tense and combative to calm and still under him, that makes his heartbeat stay elevated, even after he finally starts to warm up.

'She trusts me.' He thinks to himself, 'Or at least, she knows when to give up.'

Several minutes pass by, neither of you asleep, but not speaking. Only the sounds of your breathing are audible in the stillness of the hotel room. Dick starts to feel guilty, now that his body temperature is back to normal, and lifts himself off of you to lay on his back.

"I'm sorry," He says quietly, brows furrowed in thought, "I shouldn't have done that."

Now it's your turn to seek body heat. You let out an involuntary whimper, so soft that you're hoping Dick didn't hear it. "Wait," Your hand finds his chest in the dark, and you pull yourself up so your head is laying directly over his heart, "You might be all warmed up, but I'm still cold."

Your feet, which weren't touching him before, are particularly chilly, so you take this opportunity to press them against his bare leg. Dick tenses in response, but he doesn't push you off of him.

"I deserve this," He whispers in a tone of defeat.

"You're so dramatic," You whisper back.

"And you're more stubborn than the Bat."

"Ouch."

"Am I wrong?"

"I'm not answering that."

"Exactly," He says with a hint of pride.

"Just shut up and warm up, I'm tired," You try to sound firm, but despite your best efforts, your voice sounds sleepy and content.

"You know, maybe I should keep a hold of you all night, to stop you from tossing and turning."

"M'not that bad," You grumble, "You'll survive."

But you soon fall asleep on his chest. Your breathing gets slower and deeper, and you finally relax into a pleasant slumber. Dick isn't far behind you. He is scared to admit to himself how good it feels to have you in his arms. He chalks it up to the fact that he's been pretending to be your husband since you got here, denying anything deeper, and lets his mind shut down and rest, falling asleep to the soft sound of your breathing.

Several hours later, you wake with a start, eyes popping open as you suck in a deep breath. You were having a bizarre dream, but thankfully your less-than-graceful awakening hasn’t seemed to of bothered your teammate, who you realize has shifted in the night. He’s now spooning you, his arm around your waist and his face nuzzled against your neck.

A heat creeps into your cheeks as you hazily register the intimacy of the position you’re in. You carefully attempt to untangle yourself from him, but you quickly realize your arm is asleep, and you curse to yourself as the uncomfortable pins-and-needles sensation prickle your nerves.

You wiggle your arm, the blood flow slowly returning, not noticing how your movement is making your ass bump against the man behind you.

Dick’s eyes flutter open, awakened by the soft swaying of your body as you struggle to get your arm functioning like normal. He mutters your name groggily, and you curse yourself for waking him.

"Sorry, Dick. I'm warm now, you can let go of me," You say softly.

In his half-asleep state, Dick exhales an audible groan, moving his arm so he can stretch out. You think you're free, but he quickly replaces it back over your waist before he pulls you snug against his body. "Could we stay like this? Feels nice." His voice is hoarse and gravely from sleep, which triggers a dangerous shift in your thoughts. His strong arms feel good wrapped around you. He smells good. You're comfortable, now that your arm is awake, and you notice something poking at your lower back when he pulls you even closer to him.

The heat you felt in your cheeks travels down to pool in your belly, and you resist the urge to squeeze your thighs together to relieve the ache you feel.

'Stop it. This won't end well. He's hot, but he's your friend. Just your friend...'

You capture your lip between your bottom teeth and close your eyes, taking a deep breath. "Yeah, we can stay like this," You finally say, "But you need to tell your little friend to calm down."

"Hm?" Dick perks up at your comment, trying to make sense of what you said while his brain is still not fully awake.

"You're hard. It's distracting."

"Woah, hey. Who are you calling little? That's a low blow, you wouldn't even have any way of knowing that."

"I can feel you right now Dick. S'gross. We can cuddle if you want but I don't want your hard-on stabbing me while-"

"This feel little to you?" He interrupts, shifting you higher so he can grind his boner against your ass, with only his boxers and your silky sleep shorts separating you.

It doesn't. Now that he's doing it intentionally, you realize how much he's packing down there, which makes you stammer a little as you squirm against him, trying to quell the arousal building in your abdomen. "Jeez- okay, point taken. Now quit it," You chide, hoping you sound firm.

"Sure you want me to quit?" He's fully awake now. You can tell by the confidence in his tone when he taunts you, "Something tells me you're enjoying this. I've seen the way you've been looking at me."

His lips are merely an inch from your ear as he whispers to you, making your heart beat faster in your chest and your brain starts to panic. "Of course I've been looking at you differently. We're pretending to be a couple. We're undercover. It's called acting."

"Can I tell you a secret?" His hand starts to play with the hem of your shirt, rough hands barely brushing the small bit of exposed skin as the fabric bunches up on your waist.

"W-what?" You ask, briefly wondering if you're dreaming.

"Donna wasn't busy," He murmurs, running the tip of his nose up and down your neck slowly as he tries to entice you. "I wanted you here with me."

"That's a lie," You chide back without much thought. You know Dick and Donna are best friends, there's no way he would choose you over her for a mission like this, right?

Right?

He ignores your accusation like he didn't hear it. "You really want me to stop?" Dick presses his hand against your stomach, caressing your soft skin and nudging his nose against the shell of your ear, his breath fanning over your neck and making you shiver. "Tell me to fuck off and I'll let you have the bed to yourself."

"I... I mean...y-you don't need to, I don't want... don't sleep on the floor, please."

"Because you like this? Don't you?" His hand sneaks further up your torso, until his fingertips brush against the underside of your breast. "Don't tell me these past few days haven't felt right to you. I barely feel like I've had to act."

"Are you kidding? We've been bickering every moment we're alone!" You argue back. You're grateful for the dark, which hides how wide your eyes are from how he's touching you.

"Don't mean about the mission. I meant you and me. Having you on my arm. Calling you mine. The way you kiss me- I wish you'd kiss me like that when we're alone, instead of fighting," He admits, tentatively grinding his hips into your ass as he speaks. "You looked so pretty in that dress, earlier. That color looks amazing on you."

This is a lot for you to process. Sure, Dick is attractive. You'd be stupid to deny it. But he's your friend, has been for a while. You work together, and you've tried to not let your mind go down that path, not wanting to mess up the opportunity of a lifetime, to be a hero and work alongside him and the other Titans. But when he talks about how right these past couple days have felt, you have a hard time denying it. Yeah, you were acting, but it did come easy. His smile is heart-warming. His touch feels safe. And having him wait on you hand and foot has made you feel pretty special, even if you were under the impression that it was all performative.

Dick pauses his movements when you take a while to respond to him, second-guessing himself. He says your name softly, before asking, "Am I making you uncomfortable? Do you want me to stop?"

The answer is no.

So why is it so hard to say out loud?

Nervous, Dick shifts away from you and retracts his hand, guiding you onto your back so he can see you properly. The look of uncertainty on him is rare. The man's confidence is nearly impenetrable, but now he's got a sinking feeling in his stomach, worried that he just crossed a line that you didn't want him to cross.

"Dick..." You mutter, shifting around to help him so you're face-to-face. His features are barely visible, illuminated only by the soft red glow of the digital clock on the bedside table. But you don't need the light to see him. His face is permanently etched into your mind, handsome and chiseled, your brain filling in the gaps left by the darkness.

You're running out of time. You can make out his expression fall, sense the change in energy each moment you leave him hanging. Deciding to take the future implications out of the picture, like how it will affect your dynamic on the team, how awkward this might make things in the future- you ignore all of that, and ask yourself, 'Do I want to sleep with him? Right Now? In this moment?'

The vigilante's confidence returns when you finally lean in to capture his mouth in a kiss. You bump your nose against his, and he chuckles, relieved as his hand finds your cheek to guide your mouth to his again.

The feeling is surreal, kissing him. You feel like you knew him pretty well before this trip. You know how he likes his tea. You know his favorite places, and understand his subtle, snarky humor. You're even familiar with his scent, after many missions and even more training sessions, physical contact is not anything new between the two of you.

His taste is new. His lips are foreign, but gentle, skilled, like he knows exactly what he's doing when his kisses you, relishing in the feeling, slow and sensual as his tongue slides across your bottom lip, teasing you until your part your lips and allow him deeper. Dick pulls you on top of him, relaxing on his back, his hands holding you by the waist, itching to trail lower and grip your plush ass that's been teasing him all night.

The needy almost-moan that escapes his throat as he exhales is new, too. You've heard him express pain and discomfort, you know what sounds he makes when he's hurt, recognize his brash grunts while fighting, able to judge how badly he's hurt by the sounds he makes. But the noises he's making now aren't like those. They seem more raw, more intense, and he's doing a good job of making you swoon.

His taste, his noises, being the object of his desire, this is all new territory. The surreal feeling doesn't go away, even as his kisses get more intense and his hands start to wander. You're straddling him, forearms resting against his chest while you two make out. He laps at your mouth, tongue against yours, encouraged by every little sigh and broken whimper that you make.

You're grateful for the darkness. It helps quell your insecurities, and you push the doubts about your decision far away. With your hands against his bare chest, you're able to feel his heart beat, strong and even, solidifying the feeling of closeness between you.

"You're so soft," He whispers between greedy kisses. His fingertips caress the exposed skin of your lower back, becoming increasingly more annoyed by the clothing that's keeping your skin from him.

A brief feeling of guilt plagues your mind, knowing your skin is extra soft because of the long shower you took earlier, with the goal of annoying him. Who knew that taking the time to exfoliate and use lotion would end up doing the opposite, spurring him on, making your skin that much more enticing.

You sink your hips down, rubbing yourself against the tent in his boxers. "You're so hard." You say back to him. You meant to sound teasing, but his all-encompassing kisses have you breathless and panting.

Dick chuckles at you, also breathless, finally letting his hands grip the silky material of your sleep shorts, squeezing and massaging your ass. You push yourself up a bit to look down at him. The red numbers of the alarm clock cast an eerie glow over the side of his face, the other half dark in shadow. But you still detect the obvious lust in his gaze. He squeezes you, grabby hands slipping under your shorts to feel you better and force your clothed cunt to grind against his throbbing erection.

"You have no idea how hot you are," He blurts out, bucking his hips up to drive the point home. "You in that dress this morning, fuck, if you were mine for real... I wouldn't have let you leave this room before fucking you senseless in it."

His low, urgent tone, gravely and strained, sends a jolt of heat to your cunt, your arousal soaking through your underwear. Hearing him, Dick Grayson, NIghtwing, say such things about you? And you can tell he means it. He's a good liar, but you know him well enough by know to tell he's being sincere. You open your mouth, unsure what to say, but he's already rambling on, hands traveling from your ass back up to your waist, easing your shirt up and over your head, careful not to mess up your hair.

"The neckline is what did it, I think," he continues. His pupils dilate when he drinks you in, straining to see as much of you as possible. You're sitting up now, shuddering when his warm hands cup your breasts, handling them like you're made of glass. "I couldn't stop staring. I wasn't the only one, either."

"Dick-"

"I've been thinking about this ever since. All evening. Been going crazy." His thumbs brush over your nipples, which are already hard from the arousal you feel building inside. "Got me all worked up. Like a teenager with a crush."

You bring your hands to his, resting over them as he fondles your chest. The gentle squeeze you offer encourages him to keep going, moving your hips to rub against him, searching for some friction to satisfy your need.

"I doubt the dress did all that," You challenge.

"Yet here we are."

"You pleased with yourself?" You yelp as soon as the question leaves your mouth. Dick chose that moment to pinch your hardened buds between his thumb and pointer fingers, squeezing and toying with them, moving his hips against you when your grinding falters.

"Yeah, I am."

Dick removes his hands from your chest to pull you flush against him, grabbing your left leg to help flip you over so you're on your back, settling on his knees between your legs. This shift in control has your mind racing, still wondering if this is all just a dream. If it is, you aren't ready to wake up.

Dick's sitting straight up, smirking down at you, reaching for your ankle. He guides your leg up so your foot is next to his head, and places a slow, wet kiss against your ankle bone.

"Let's get these off of you." He takes your other leg, lifting it in the same manner, so he's able to remove your shorts. You raise your hips to help, allowing him to take your remaining clothes off and toss them to the other end of the bed. He kisses the same spot on your other ankle and rests your legs on either side of his head while his strong hands caress your calves. It almost feels like he's showing you a new martial arts technique, the way he moves and is so at ease manipulating your body. You're used to it, to humbling yourself around him and letting him share his skills, never too proud to learn from a friend and mentor. You swear you've actually been in a very similar position with him before, too, just with more clothing. And also, several spectators.

His warm, fervent kisses continue down towards your knee, slowly savoring every inch of skin he can reach, and adjusting his position once he cannot. Your chest rises and falls quickly in anticipation, nervous but excited to see this new side of him.

This isn't something you were expecting to happen this trip.

You stifle a needy moan when he reaches your inner thighs. Muscular body now flush against the bed, he licks at the sensitive skin there, just inches from your pussy that's dripping for him, aching for attention.

"H-Holy shit..." You curse, moving your hips to try and get his mouth closer to where you need him most. If him kissing your leg feels this sensuous, you're weak over the idea of having his mouth on your core.

Dick hums in satisfaction at how worked up you're getting. Peeling his lips away from the soft skin of your thigh, he purses his lips into a small 'o' to blow a breath over your slick, feverish skin.

You're mortified at the loud whine that departs your lips, shivering in both chill and embarrassment. Your legs tense, squeezing together reflexively around his head.

Dick mutters your name, cursing under his breath at your reaction. He carefully pries your legs apart again, holding them in place, kissing your inner thigh again.

"Huh. You liked that?"

"Please, Dick, you're teasing me."

You feel his lips curve into a smile against you, leaving your thigh and licking a slow, long stripe along your pussy, catching some of your slick on his tongue. Your breathing hitches, eyes closing again, moaning his name with your hands on either side of your head gripping the pillow.

The tip of his nose nudges against your clit before he kisses you there, the same way he was kissing your mouth a minute earlier. Slow at first, building up to using more tongue, testing different movements until he feels your legs quiver. The heat you felt before has grown to a roaring fire, your lower body sensitized from his attention and aching for more.

His tongue flicks over your sensitive nub over and over in a steady rhythm. It becomes harder and harder not to wiggle against him. He's still keeping you in place, but his grip isn't harsh, at least not until he finds just the right angle. Your hips jerk almost violently when he presses his skilled tongue harder against your core, your hands flying to his head to grip his hair. "Oh fuck... please... shit shit sh....." You tremble, words fading away to nothing while your teammate keeps eating your cunt like its his favorite dessert.

Muffled hums and moans are mingled with your sighs and gasps. His tongue dips down to lap languidly at your entrance. You feel painfully empty at this point, ignoring the bewilderment you feel deep down about how easily Dick has reduced you to a whining mess. Fingernails scratching his scalp, your inner muscles convulse and tense, nerves alive with every touch and heated kiss.

Dick is a curious guy. He always has been. It's what makes him such a good detective, and an even better hero. And right now? He's curious about you, making a mental note of what noises and gasps he can coax from you when he moves his tongue faster or slower. He experiments with quick, feather light licks to tease you, then uses more pressure, rubbing his tongue flat against your soft skin and moving in circles, noting your reactions to each technique. His saliva drips from his mouth to mix with your slick, which he greedily licks back up, no shame in his enthusiasm.

After several torturous minutes of him working you, he's got your legs quivering and your mind fuzzy, your pride long forgotten, unable to resist the urge to plead for more.

"Please?" You beg him, "I just want... fuck, please, Dick, I need it."

His hands grip you tight for a beat before he releases you. "I need you too, baby, fuck, feel how wet you are." You offer no resistance when his hand takes yours and places it between your legs. "Touch yourself, yeah... there you go... play with that pretty pussy for me, hm?" His deep voice vibrates in your head, sending a fresh rush of lust through your veins.

Pushing himself up, Dick reaches over you towards the bedside table to retrieve the goodie bag that the front desk was handing out for the couples retreat.

"Glad we can actually put this stuff to use," He mumbles, face better illuminated now that he's next to the alarm clock. He retrieves a condom and a single-use lube sample from the deep red gift bag, and you groan in embarrassment again.

"Shhh, hey, just keep touching yourself. It's fine, unless you brought other condoms?" He asks, already guessing your answer.

"Why would I bring condoms? I wasn't expecting this to happen," You reply, watching him rip the foil wrapper.

"Huh. Me either." He slips his boxers down his thighs, letting his cock spring free. You squint, trying to see the outline of his junk in the dark. He looks big. Big enough that when he slides the rubber over his shaft, it only makes it about 3/4th of the way down.

"It's kind of tight," He informs you, now opening up the lube sample and working the viscous liquid over himself. "But I'm pretty good about making big things fit in tight spaces."

The grin on your face is instant, cringing at his joke and shaking your head. "Would you shut up and fuck me, already?"

"Gods, yes."

His reply sounds pained, filled with longing, enough that you briefly question how long he's wanted this. You want to ask, but Dick is a man of his word, and before you can utter your question out loud, his hands are pressing your legs against your chest, knees over his shoulders, positioning you so he can slap his heavy cock against your clit.

Rubbing his tip against your wet folds of skin, you angle your hips a little better and guide him inside. Your slick heat swallows him up greedily, his cock bottoming out in one swift thrust.

You cry out at the sudden sting of him stretching your aching cunt. Hands gripping the sheets to ground yourself, your eyes water and your mouth hangs open, the feeling enough to wipe your mind clear of anything other than him and how he's making you feel.

He offers a brief kiss to your whimpering lips, "Shhhh, I know, babe, I know, feels good... fuck... feels too good.”

Nestling closer to you, Dick settles so he has access to your neck. His hips are still, giving your body time to adjust from the abrupt intrusion. His warm breath tickles your ear between the sweet love pecks he presses into your skin. “You know, if we really wanna sell ourselves as a couple, maybe I should give you some hickies, mark up that pretty neck of yours.”

The muscles in the back of your legs burn from the stretch. The position you’re in doesn’t accommodate deep breathing, so your voice is weak when you warn him, “Can we not talk about work right now?”

“Right. We’ll talk about it tomorrow, when you’re pissed at me again.” He latches his lips onto your neck, withdrawing himself from you halfway before easing back in, slower this time, pausing again once he's fully buried.

"H-h-how... mm...d-dude, you're huge," You gasp, feeling his tip kiss your cervix, pushing your body to its limit.

Dick tenses, his solid body going rigid. His next statement seem imbued with an undertone of challenge, "Don't call me dude while I'm inside of you."

"Sorry I- shiiiit...." you lose your words when he starts moving again, pumping into you slowly, rolling his hips into yours while he sucks on your neck, leaving your skin damp with his saliva. Finding them again takes a minute. "M'sorry I didn't c-come up with a list... I mean, why would I be prompted...to... write out the things that are... are off limits when we're fucking?"

The words are forgotten as soon as you say it. His memorizing pace has you feeling alive with warm tingles, concentrated most where your bodies meet. You clench down on his thick cock, more arousal dripping out around him. You can feel your body release more wetness again, doing its best to accept what's being given as his soft raven hair tickles your cheek.

"We can make that list together, babe." His promise is murmured against your throat, "Maybe during our one-on-one counseling session tomorrow with the alleged con artist himself."

"W-wh...huh? What, oh... mmmm.... fuck, Dick.... what list?" You flex your feet and curl your toes, babbling and whimpering at him. You can't move much with how he's pinning you, completely at his mercy. Even though you've never slept together before now, you have complete trust in him, having put your life in his hands more times than you can count. Nightwing has never failed you as a teammate. And Dick certainly has never failed you as a friend. So even now, as he ruts himself into you with purpose, pushing your body to its brink, leaving dark bruises over your neck, you know he doesn't plan to fail you as a lover. If only for one night.

The speculation on whether this heated exchange will be a one-time thing or the start of something more is a worry for later on, not for right now. Right now, this god-like man is fucking himself into you harder and deeper, being much less gentle than how he handled you earlier.

"Feels s'good, tight little pussy is squeezing me, bet you haven't been fucked this good before," He rasps, giving your tender neck a break and resting his forehead against yours while he flexes and undulates, putting his abs, back, entire body into it, hitting spots deep inside of you that you didn't think were even there.

Your cries of pleasure get louder as the minutes pass. Keeping his pace steady, Dick moves his hand over your mouth for the second time this evening to muffle your desperate please for release.. "Shhhh... remember what I said," He taunts, "We can't blow our cover. People come to retreats like this because their marriage is failing. No one here is having sex as good as this."

If you were more aware, you'd point out to him that he just went against his whole justification for giving you love marks. But he might as well be speaking an alien language. The deep timbre of his words do, however, send a chill down your spine, pushing you over the precipice, your orgasm crashing over you hard.

Your eyes water even more and blur your already limited vision. Convulsing under the weight of him, you gasp against his palm, tasting yourself, eyes wide in the glow of the dim red light.

"That's it.... shii-iii-iit..." His body stills, and he closes his eyes, struggling desperately to stay off his own orgasm. You welcome the break, pleasure still pulsing in your core, flexing and wiggling your legs to alleviate the stiffness from the prolonged time in such an intense position you aren't used to.

Dick moans your name and shudders, "I need more."

"M-more?" You stutter, intoxicated from the post-orgasm haze.

Pushing himself up and off of you, he sits back on his knees again, cock slipping from your swollen cunt. Dick graciously lowers your legs, guiding them around his waist before leaning over you again, carefully slipping his arms under yours against your back to cradle you closer to him. You cling to him with trembling limbs, letting him move you how he sees fit.

"What, you think I was going to stop at one?" He whispers to you, low and eager. He slips his length back inside of you, the lewd squelching noise sounding absolutely filthy, your thighs damp from his sweat and your fluids. "I'm not wasting this opportunity to show you a good time.'"

Your pussy is so sensitive now, every thrust of his hips earning a small pant from you, feeling him fill you up, over and over, making room for himself inside your body with each tantalizing rut of his hips.

You mumble something incoherent, and Dick chuckles, proud to have you in such a state. "What's that, babe? I'm the best you've ever had?" He kisses your forehead, fucking you a little faster, his heavy balls smacking against your ass with each rut.

"This is... just to keep up appearances, right?" You ask, unsure if you want him to agree or not.

Probably not.

Definitely not.

"Of course." Dick promises, knowing full well that he will not be satisfied until he has you creaming around his cock like this every night. Not now. Not after tonight. Being here with you has opened his eyes, and helped him reflect on why he got so intensely jealous when you were turning heads earlier. "It's all for appearances, babe."

if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment!

please don’t steal my work. don't upload it to another site, use it to train ai, or claim it as your own.

⭓ masterlist ⭓

[yoditopascal]

Work from Home

"I know you gotta, put in them hours. I'ma make it harder I'm sendin' pic' after picture I'ma get you fired."

warnings: established relationship, Roy Harper being Roy Harper, sending nudes, semi-nsfw minors DNI

Part 2

A buzz from his pocket pulled Red Hood from his thoughts, fingers fumbling as he pulled the device from the confounds of his tactical pants.

It had taken him a while to get used to you just randomly contacting him outta the blue while he’s working but now he’s gotten accustomed to the texts and 3am phone calls on the roof when the nights are finally calm.

It was to the point now that Roy expected them and always teased him about needing his ‘alone time’

One New Message.

‘Miss you!’ it read

It didn’t surprise him that you had contacted him. Like he said you always did around this time of night.

He shook his head, thumb tracing over the open button, noticing that there was an attachment this time. He shook his head, leaning back against the brick wall behind him, thumb tapping at the open button, Jason nearly dropping the phone as the image popped up.

It was a picture of you in red panties and his Red Hood shirt, tied in a knot at your waist, sitting on your shared bed in front of a mirror

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, eyes glancing around him quickly making sure Roy was out of ear shot. Unfortunately he wasn’t.

His face was as red as his mask was as he slammed his phone shut quickly, his heart racing in his chest.

“You good man?”

His phone vibrated again, another pic from you this time you were lifting the shirt from your frame, the underside of your boobs just barely visible.

“Y-yeah just-” He honestly didn’t know what to tell him as he felt his body heat up.

One more message this time you were topless the only thing covering your chest was the one hand you were using to just barely cover your nipples. He damn near groaned out loud.

“Aaah it's that time huh?”

“...yeah.”

“Say less Jaybird.”

Peaking over his shoulder Roy catches a glimpse of the last pic you sent and let out a low whistle

Jason never wanted to smack him as much as he had just now.

Shoving his best friend, Jason quickly closed the message and stared Roy down.

“I know when I'm not wanted,” he chuckled as he gathered his bow and quiver “I’ll see you later man” he said walking backwards off the roof as he gave Jason a finger salute.

He shifted from one foot to the other, trying to distract himself from his own hardening dick in his pants. Fingers tapped on the reply button quickly, knowing that if he didn’t reply, you weren't going to wait around for him. Pausing to adjust his pants, Jason jumped from the roof landing by his motorcycle before hopping on and taking off into the night.

'On my way.’

[fritz-federleicht]

Friends to Lovers/ Vessel x reader

Summary: A close friendship evolves into love after a show.

Words: 633

FLUFF

You and Vessel have been really good friends for many years.

There's always been a certain level of intimacy and trust between you. Sometimes a cuddle on the shoulder, sometimes a gentle rub of the thumb over the cheek or a kiss on the hair.

His bandmates tease you, claiming Vessel and you are in a relationship and you both just don't know about it yet.

"I'm so tired." You mumble, dropping onto the black leather sofa in the backstage area, exhausted. A sigh of relief escapes you as you watch Vessel out of the corner of your eye as he removes his white mask with the red details in front of a mirror

"What about me?" He asks with a grin and opens the clasp at the back of his head. "You just stood next to the stage and watched. I gave it my all and sang."

"And danced." You add with a grin.

"Yes, and danced." Vessel replies with a soft chuckle and places the mask next to the black charcoal he applied to his body before his performance... or rather, you applied it.

"I could sleep through a whole year after the tour." He says and watches his charcoal-stained face in the mirror for a moment.

You lean your head back against the soft backrest of the sofa and look up at the ceiling with a grin. "You say that every time and then you sleep just like you did on tour, maybe an hour longer." You say playfully.

Vessel laughs softly and sits down right next to you. His shoulder brushes yours as he leans back with a relieved sigh.

You tilt your head to the side and look at him.

It doesn't take him long to notice your gaze and he turns his head towards you. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen an alien."

A grin creeps onto your lips. "I just find it amusing how messed up you look after every show." You say with a shrug and raise your hand to brush your fingers across his cheek.

He rolls his eyes playfully and gently clasps your wrist. "Go ahead and make fun of me." He says, rubbing small circles on your skin.

You look at each other in a moment of silence, his gaze darts from your eyes to your lips.

And finally, the other Sleep Token guys would be standing next to you cheering, Vessel slowly moves his face closer to yours.

You can literally imagine III's cry of joy as your lips meet in a gentle kiss.

Butterflies ignite in every fiber of your body. Your lips melt together as if they were made for each other.

But they part far too quickly.

You open your eyes as Vessel leans back. "That was..." You whisper.

"It was perfect." Vessel says softly in a husky voice. His thumb circles your wrist gently.

"I never thought..." A smile forms on your lips. "...that this would ever happen between us."

"It just felt right to do it." He looks into your eyes and can't help the playful tone in his voice. "And besides, we're already very intimate with each other anyway."

You grin softly and answer playfully. "Basically, it's the same as before."

"Exactly." He leans closer to you. "Except now I'll kiss your lips more often instead of just your forehead."

Vessel looks at you with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Is that okay?"

"Mhm." You hum, which is enough of an answer for Vessel as he gently presses his lips back to yours.

If III knew what was happening next to his room... he'd probably jump for joy, just like your heart leaps in your chest as you gently return Vessel's kiss.

[babyangelsky]

Peat's acting is stupendous and it's hurting my feelings

I need to talk about the bedroom scene and the fight that preceded it because it felt like I was having a mirror held up to me and looking at my younger self and in doing, so I've come to love Tongrak as a character even more than I did before.

I talked about the expressions already but I just cannot get past this one. Rak's eyes are so dead and he looks so tired in a way that I understand so deeply. He knows what's about to happen. He screened Prin's call earlier precisely in hopes of avoiding it but she showed up anyway.

I do have to acknowledge that a lot of my interpretation and feelings about him and these scenes are very much a product of my own experiences, but believe me when I tell you that having a family as fucked as his and having to deal with relatives like this drains you. You fight back because you have to, not because you want to. You don't go seeking the bullshit but somehow it always seems to arrive at your door.

I know exactly how he must be feeling because I've felt it. Because I've fought back and made sure my mask was firmly in place for as long as I needed it to only to break the second I could turn my face away.

I'm impressed that Rak didn't run from Mut and that he didn't start crying on the way to his bedroom. That powerwalk he did instead though? I know it all too well.

To Rak's mind, Mut has already witnessed far more than Rak ever intended for him to. That fight was nasty. It poked at so many wounds, touched on so many painful, intimate things about Rak's family and about him. Prin wanted to hurt and humiliate him and she succeeded.

I can confidently say that if someone I cared about witnessed that happening to me, the last thing I would want is to break down in front of them on top of it, so I completely understand why Rak's first instinct was to put distance between him and Mut. You know the breakdown is coming and the only thing you want is to have it in private.

I know people feel some kind of way about Rak's refusal to let Mut into his bedroom and essentially shutting him out but Mook tells us in episode 4 that no one is allowed in Rak's bedroom. This isn't just about Mut. Everything we have learned and seen of Rak so far tells us that he's a person who needs a safe place to hide. A place where he can close the door and know he won't be intruded upon.

Sure, it's his house and ideally he would have the freedom to break down wherever he wants to inside of it but given that Mook comes and goes pretty freely, he doesn't really have that luxury by his standards. There's always a chance she'll walk in. And he certainly doesn't have it now that he's no longer living alone.

So he goes to hide in his bedroom so he can process and feel what he needs to.

And when Mut comes after him, this happens. Mut pushed at that boundary out of genuine care and concern and he's not wrong for that. I've been on his side of this equation too and the impulse to help in whatever way you can is impossible to resist, even if all you can offer is a meal.

But I also understand Rak. God do I understand him. That need to be alone, demanding to be left in peace, lashing out when someone won't despite it being with good intentions. When you've been pushed to your limit and you know a breakdown is coming and that there will be shrapnel when it does, the very last thing you want is for the people you care about to get hit with it.

Like @bird-inacage said in their post, Tongrak is a caged animal at this point. He's feeling vulnerable and defensive and he lashes out. He doesn't want to, he tries to stop it, but it ends up happening anyway.

And he regrets it. He does. The way I see it, he couldn't bring himself to knock on Mut's door both because he'd exhausted all his nerve in the fight with Prin and because a part of him was probably worried that he'd be rejected if he did. When you lash out, especially when you don't mean to, there's always a worry that you've done irreparable damage to your relationship with whoever was on the receiving end and that you won't ever be forgiven.

Sometimes it really is something as simple as a sticky note that brings you to tears and has you sobbing into your dinner in the middle of the night.

The note and the meal are proof that Tongrak hasn't been rejected, that he's still cared for despite the way he reacted after the fight and the things that he said. We know that Mut wasn't going to reject him but Rak needed to know that as well.

And now that they had their moment in the dressing room and the issue of the money has been talked about, we're paving a way forward for Rak to be able to express what he feels without using it as a defense mechanism. He still will, and he will hurt me many more times before we're done, but we're making progress.

[wonies-cheeks]

Skincare & Disney | l.hs

Genre: fluff

W/C: 2.2k

Warning: swearing

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you and your boyfriend, Heeseung, had decided to spend the day in, pampering yourselves with a skincare routine and watching a Disney movie marathon. Your bedroom was cozy, with soft blankets piled on top of your bed and a selection of your favorite snacks laid out on the nightstand beside your bed. Heeseung was already rummaging through the various skincare products you had brought out, a look of determination on his face.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" you teased, watching him examine a face mask with intense concentration.

He shot you a playful glare. "I have no idea what half of these things are, but I'm willing to learn. Besides, my skin could use some TLC."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Alright, skincare guru, let's start with a cleanser."

Heeseung fumbled with the bottle, accidentally squirting a bit too much product into his hand. "Shit, sorry, how much of this stuff am I supposed to use?"

"Just a small amount," you replied, stepping closer to help him. You took some of the excess cleanser from his hand and began to gently massage it onto his face. Heeseung closed his eyes, a contented smile spreading across his lips.

"This feels nice," he murmured. "I could get used to this."

"Don't get too comfortable," you warned, grinning. "We still have a whole routine to get through."

After cleansing, you moved on to toner, which Heeseung found surprisingly refreshing. He flinched a little at the cold sensation but quickly relaxed. Next came the serums and moisturizers, and Heeseung watched with wide eyes as you carefully applied each product to his skin.

"This is a lot of steps," he remarked. "How do you keep track of all this?"

"With my big brain, something you lack," you said with a shrug. "Plus, it's worth it for that glowing skin."

Heeseung let out a scoff, “Something I lack? Weren’t you the one who put a frozen burrito in the microwave, and when it didn’t heat up, you threw it away and tried heating up a different one?” he shot back.

You felt your face go red, “Shut the fuck up. You promised you wouldn’t bring that up.” You whined.

Heeseung chuckled, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. "Just saying, maybe your big brain isn't as big as you think."

"Whatever," you muttered, trying to hide your smile.

Heeseung leaned in, his face close to yours. "Am I glowing yet?"

You examined his face with exaggerated seriousness. "Hmm, not quite. But you're getting there."

He chuckled and gave you a quick peck on the lips. "Thanks for being my skincare expert."

The next part of your routine involved face masks. You handed Heeseung a bright green avocado mask and kept a calming lavender mask for yourself. Heeseung stared at the avocado mask with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

"Are you sure this is safe?" he asked, eyeing the bright green goo.

"Yes, it’s perfectly safe. Besides, it's fun," you reassured him. "Now, smear it on your face like this."

You demonstrated, applying the lavender mask evenly across your face. Heeseung followed suit, but a bit more clumsily, and soon you were both sitting on your bed with your faces covered in colorful masks.

"Wow, we look ridiculous," Heeseung said, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter. "We really do. But it's all part of the experience!"

"Speak for yourself," Heeseung teased. "I look like a healthy avocado smoothie. You look like a flower shop exploded on your face."

"Oh, shut up," you laughed. "You're just jealous because my mask is more luxurious."

"Luxurious? You mean it smells like a grandma's soap collection," he shot back, smirking.

"At least I won't look like a green monster when this comes off," you retorted.

"Hey, green monsters can be cute," he defended, trying to keep a straight face. "Just look at Shrek."

"Oh my god, did you just compare yourself to Shrek?" you asked, giggling uncontrollably.

"Only the best for you, my Fiona," he said with a mock bow, which made you laugh even harder.

Heeseung's laughter joined yours, and soon you were both laughing so hard your stomachs hurt. Heeseung clutched his side, gasping for breath. "I can't believe how silly we look."

Tears of laughter streamed down your face, mingling with the mask. "This is the best. I haven't laughed this much in ages."

"Me neither," Heeseung agreed, wiping away his own tears. "I guess this is what happens when you mix skincare with Disney movies."

Speaking of Disney movies, you decided it was time to start the marathon. You settled back onto your bed, carefully avoiding smearing your masks on the pillows. Heeseung grabbed the remote and scrolled through the options.

"What should we start with?" he asked.

"Beauty and the Beast," you suggested. "It's a classic."

Heeseung nodded and clicked play, and the familiar opening music filled the room. You sat in between his legs and snuggled up into him, resting the back of your head on his shoulder as the movie began. It didn't take long for the bickering to start, though.

"You know, Belle's kind of a nerd," Heeseung commented, a teasing tone in his voice.

You rolled your eyes. "She's intelligent and curious. That's what makes her awesome."

"Yeah, but she falls in love with a beast," he pointed out. "That's a little weird."

"It's called seeing beyond appearances," you retorted. "You could learn a thing or two from her."

Heeseung laughed and pulled you closer. "Okay, okay. Belle is great. Happy now?"

"Very," you said smugly, giving him a quick peck on his lips.

The movie continued, and the two of you got more and more invested, singing along to the songs, and making silly comments about the characters. When the iconic ballroom scene came on, Heeseung suddenly got off the bed and extended his hand to you.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, trying to keep a straight face.

You giggled and took his hand. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

He grinned. "But you love me."

You couldn't argue with that. Heeseung twirled you around your bedroom, humming the tune of "Beauty and the Beast" as you danced together. It was silly and sweet, and you couldn't stop laughing.

When the movie ended, you both collapsed back onto your bed, slightly out of breath from your impromptu dance session. Heeseung turned to you, his eyes twinkling.

"Okay, what's next?" he asked, reaching for the remote again.

"How about The Lion King?" you suggested. "I haven't seen it in ages."

"Sure," he agreed. "But first, let's get these masks off before they permanently become part of our faces."

You both made your way to the bathroom, standing side by side in front of the mirror. Heeseung started peeling his mask off, wincing dramatically as if it were a Herculean task.

"Stop being such a baby," you teased, carefully removing your own mask.

Heeseung stuck his tongue out at you. "You try peeling avocado off your face and see how you like it."

You couldn't help but laugh. "It's just a face mask, Heeseung. Not a life-or-death situation."

Once you were both mask-free and had rinsed your faces, you applied a light moisturizer to finish off the routine. Heeseung watched you with a playful smirk as you gently massaged the moisturizer into his skin.

"You missed a spot," he said, pointing to his cheek.

You rolled your eyes and smoothed the moisturizer over the 'missed' spot. "There, happy?"

"Very," he said, leaning down to give you a soft, lingering kiss. "Thanks for taking care of my skin."

"Anytime," you replied, feeling a warm flutter in your chest from the kiss.

Back in your bedroom, you settled onto your bed once more, ready for the next movie. Heeseung grabbed the remote and started The Lion King, and you both snuggled up under the blankets.

This time, the bickering was about which character was the best.

"Simba is obviously the best," Heeseung declared. "He's the main character."

"Pfft, Timon and Pumbaa steal the show," you argued. "They're hilarious."

"Yeah, but Simba grows up to be a badass king," He countered.

You rolled your eyes playfully. "And Timon and Pumbaa teach him how to live life with no worries. 'Hakuna Matata,' remember?"

 "Yeah, but did they save the Pride Lands? No, Simba did. So, he wins," Heeseung said smugly.

"Oh, please. Timon and Pumbaa are the real MVPs. They raised him and taught him how to survive," you shot back.

"Okay, fine. But what about Rafiki? He's the one who gets Simba to go back," Heeseung said, raising an eyebrow.

"Rafiki's cool, but he's more of a wise old mentor. Timon and Pumbaa are the heart and soul," you insisted.

Heeseung chuckled. "You just like them because they're funny."

"Exactly! They bring the fun," you grinned. "Once again, you could learn a thing or two from them."

Heeseung laughed and pulled you in for a kiss, his lips soft and warm against yours. "You're a pain in my ass, you know that?"

"But you love me," you replied, echoing his earlier words.

The kiss deepened, and you felt a rush of warmth and happiness. Heeseung's hand cupped your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin. When you finally pulled away, you were both smiling.

Heeseung smiled and said, "Alright, I'll admit, they are pretty funny. But Simba is still the best."

You sighed dramatically. "Fine, we'll agree to disagree."

As the movie continued, you both got more invested in the story, singing along to the songs and making silly comments about the characters. When Scar's song "Be Prepared" came on, Heeseung couldn't help but make a dramatic gesture, imitating Scar's villainous demeanor.

"Look at me, I'm the king of the hyenas," Heeseung said in a mock-serious tone.

You burst out laughing. "You could never be as evil as Scar. You're too much of a goofball."

He pretended to be offended. "Hey, I can be serious when I want to be."

"Sure, sure," you teased. "But let's be real, you'd probably end up befriending the hyenas instead."

Heeseung grinned. "True. They'd be my squad."

When the iconic "Hakuna Matata" scene came on, you both sang along at the top of your lungs, laughing and dancing around your bedroom. Heeseung grabbed your hands and twirled you around, and for a moment, you felt like carefree kids again.

After the song ended, you collapsed back onto your bed, slightly out of breath but grinning from ear to ear. Heeseung looked at you, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"You know, we should have our own 'Hakuna Matata' philosophy," he said. "No worries, right?"

"Absolutely," you agreed, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek. "No worries as long as we're together."

Heeseung smiled and pulled you into him. As the movie continued, you both got more comfortable, with Heeseung's arm wrapped around you and your head resting on his chest. You watched the characters on screen, but your attention kept drifting back to Heeseung. His laughter, his silly comments, the way he kissed you – it all made you realize just how lucky you were to have him.

When the climactic battle scene came on, Heeseung couldn't resist making more dramatic gestures, pretending to be Simba facing off against Scar.

"See, Simba's the hero," he said, puffing out his chest.

"Okay, fine, you've got a point," you conceded, laughing at his antics. "But Timon and Pumbaa still helped save the day."

"Team effort," Heeseung agreed, pulling you closer for another kiss.

As the final scene played and Simba took his place as king, you both sighed contentedly. Heeseung looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Ready for round three?"

"What do you have in mind?" you asked, curious.

"How about Aladdin?" he suggested. "We can argue about which genie is better – Robin Williams or Will Smith."

"Oh, it's on," you said with a laugh.

As the opening scenes of Aladdin played, you couldn't help but feel a wave of gratitude for moments like these. Lazy afternoons filled with laughter, bickering, and sweet kisses with Heeseung were the best kind of days. And you knew that no matter how many Disney movies you watched or skincare routines you tried, what mattered most was the love and joy you shared.

When you looked over at Heeseung, his eyes were already on you. He leaned in and gave you a kiss, his lips lingering on yours as if savoring every second. You felt a warmth spread through your entire body, and you knew that this moment, right here with Heeseung, was perfect.

He broke the kiss and whispered, "I love you."

You smiled, your heart swelling with happiness. "I love you too."

With Heeseung by your side, even the simplest moments were magical.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*

[sunarots]

so high school ━━━ atsumu miya

24. dinner date ♡

You look at your reflection in the mirror, regretting not bringing some basic makeup. The fear of someone seeing the two of you and taking a picture (or ten) and uploading them online has your heart pounding, but knowing that it’s Atsumu with you makes you feel slightly more at ease.

And, of course, the worries in your mind on why Atsumu asked you for dinner on this ‘date’. Could you even call it a date? A pretend date? Who knows… The complexity of your fake relationship has played a major part on you not wanting to leave the house, knowing that someone would spot the two of yous and rip you apart even more. But, you couldn’t deny that you were relieved how close you had gotten to Atsumu. Even more so that he seemed to forget that you were pretending in private, what with your many evenings spent together on the sofa watching movies.

Did he want a relationship? Is that why he asked you here? Was he going to confess?

You splash some of the cold water in your face, an attempt to distract yourself from the thoughts running rampant in your mind. Taking in a deep breath and flattening out your dress, you gather your things from the hook on the back of the bathroom door and make your way out from the staff area and head towards the table. You give a small smile to the bar supervisor in passing, who'd shown you the ropes and basics for serving drinks and how they take orders.

You try to avoid the tables where people are sitting to get over to Atsumu as unnoticed as possible, sliding into the seat facing towards the door. "Are you sure you don't mind paying? I can pay-"

"If you say yer gonna pay me back for anything ever again, I'm gonna have Omi chase you around the apartment with a spider," he threatens, pulling his mask down to sit beneath his chin. He takes a sip of his coke, running a finger around the rim of the glass. "Do ya know what yer having?"

You nod your head, picking up the menu and pointing to it. "Kelp and soy sauce onigiri. It caught my eye immediately. What're you having?" You lean forward, elbows on the table for support to see what he'll say.

"Tuna mayo, I love tuna." Atsumu closes over the menu, setting it down carefully on the table top. He fills up a glass with the water he'd got for the table and slides one over to you before filling one for himself. "So, how was the first day? Think yer gonna be back?"

You nod your head, taking a sip of the water with a small smile. "Yeah. It was really good. It's not the first customer service job I've had. The hardest thing is remembering how to take the order. It's numbers and letters, and I'm so lost half the time. But I'll get used to it. I was also shown the ropes on the bar, too. So I can now make very basic alcoholic drinks."

Atsumu grins. “Well, I just got even luckier.”

You can’t help but laugh at his comment, covering your mouth with your hand and leaning back in your seat. “What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents.” You shrug your shoulders and try to stop yourself from laughing even more, taking another drink of water to try and help your drying throat. “How did practice go?”

“So productive,” he answers, his eyes rolling as he speaks. “Apparently it was my fault that Bokuto wasn’t feeling his best, but I’ve not done anything to him!”

You scratch the back of your neck, avoiding eye contact so you can get out, “Well, we are kinda forcing him to keep this secret…”

When you look back at him, he’s running his fingers across his chin, visibly cringing. “Shit… I didn’t think about that.” He sips his coke, setting it back down. He goes to speak, immediately stopping himself when his brother appears by his side.

“Hey, I know what her having, but I need to double check what y/n’s having.” He looks at you, waiting for your response. Once you confirm your order, you turn back to face Atsumu your anxiety returning.

He’s playing with the chopsticks once set carefully on the table, twirling them in his hands. You can feel his knee bouncing beneath the table. When his eyes lock with yours, you try to read his expression. There’s an unfamiliar look in his eye, a strong fear.

He clears his throat, looking around to make sure no one’s near enough to hear him and sets the chopsticks back down. “Do you…regret this?”

You furrow your eyebrows, heart stopping. You adjust the strap of your dress, straightening your posture and trying to hide the hurt on your face. “Oh… Um, I- I don’t. Do you?”

Atsumu rapidly shakes his head, holding up his hands. “No, no, no. That’s not- that’s not why I asked. I don’t regret it. Like, at all. I just…” He takes in a deep breath to calm himself, regain his thoughts. “It’s just that my fans can be a lot sometimes, and I don’t want ya to feel like they matter more to me. They do matter, but not the mean ones. I don’t claim them.”

You feel your nerves melt away, a warmth growing in your chest. Your smile grows, a soft laugh of relief slipping past your lips. “Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you’re a hot and famous guy.”

You realise what you’ve said when Atsumu reacts, his eyes wide and his signature cocky grin. “Y/n l/n. You think I’m hot.”

Feeling the heat rising to your cheeks, you’re thankful that one of the waitresses is approaching with your food.

“Hi, Miya-san. I’m assuming the fatty tuna is for you?” He nods, picking up his chopsticks and saying a quiet thank you.

Once the waitress has set the food in front of you and backed away, you immediately start eating to try and stop Atsumu from saying anything else. For the most part, it works. The meal is silent, save for compliments over the food. Once you both finish, you take Atsumu’s plate and set it atop yours.

“I’ll take these up-“

Atsumu stops you, taking the plates from your hands and shaking his head. “You’ve been working all day, I’ll do it for ya.” You don’t have a chance to offer, because he’s already out of the seat and away from you.

Settling back in your seat, you keep your eyes fixed on him. Your eyes scan his outfit, the tight-fitted shirt framing his muscles and a pair of baggy jeans that are hugging his thighs. Atsumu leans across the bar, handing over the plates and saying something that makes the supervisor laugh. He waves to his brother, before turning around locking eyes with you, the corners of his mouth tugging up. He taps his hand against the bar, pushing himself away and making his was towards your table. He slips back into his seat, dusting his hands off on his jeans. “Don’t think I’m letting ya forget ya said that I’m hot.”

You press your lips into a firm line, trying to stop yourself from embarrassing yourself anymore. You fight back the smile wanting to show, running your fingertip along the edge of the table and considering your options: deny it, or push your luck. “I have eyes,” you mumble, a part of you hoping he doesn’t hear it.

Unfortunately for you, he does. He straightens up, laughing louder than he should have, and raises an eyebrow. “Aren’t you the same one who said ya can’t have my ego getting too big?”

You shrug your shoulders, tucking your hair behind your ears. “You know you’re hot. Your ego’s already big in that area.” You tuck your hair behind your ears.

Atsumu takes in a deep breath, forcing out, “I really like ya, y/n. A lot.”

It takes a moment for you to process his words, leaning further back into your seat. Your heartbeat grows faster, taking a sip of water to try and keep yourself calm. “What?”

He looks around himself before clearing his throat, leaning forward over the table. “Um, I like ya. I have for… a bit. A few weeks. And I’d like to see where this takes us.” He waits patiently for your answer, elbows rest on the wood. Despite the confidence on his face, you can see the concern in his eye.

“Really?” Eagerly, he nods his head. You can feel the smile breaking through. “I’d like that.”

Atsumu’s quick to rise to his feet, the chair squeaking against the wood. He tucks it under the table, outstretching a hand to you. “C’mon. Let’s get out of here.”

# fun facts !

unlike y/n, atsumu didn’t go through her drawers

masterlist. previous | next

summary. after your best friend reveals he’s moving out of your shared flat, you’re presented with a tough choice: let one of the creeps who are begging you to let them move in with you, or find a cheaper flat in another area of town. a do-over couldn’t have come at a better time for you, but your only option for a place to stay is with someone your best friend knew from high school, and his two teammates.

taglist (open!). @reignsaway @yuminako @thiisisntlovely @diorzs @aboutkiyoomi @spicana @bakingcuriosity @kr1nqu @savemebrazilhinata @dazqa @sereniteav @beckxisxinxlovexwithxjin @sleezzsister @hermaeusmorax @giocriedpower @sophosphorescent @gigiiiiislife @zazathezaer @rrosiitas @iaminyourfloors @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @sillygooseymood @ellouisa17 @wakashudou @punkhazardlaw @arminswife12 @libbymeows @thomatri @nanamis-right-tiddie

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

Hi!! Really like your writing could we possibly get a drabble or something like that of Middle Schooler Yuu?

Hell-Raising Gremlin: A Middle Schooler

Synopsis: Yuu is a cringy middle schooler that curses a lot and insults people

Cw: Cringe writing. Yuu is 12 and Gn. Cursing. They call Riddle stupid and tell Azul he's gay. No romance ofc. Not proofread

“What the fuck?” Was one of the first things that came out of your mouth when you kicked off the door to your coffin. A crowd of eerily robed people turned to stare at you as if you were the weird one for wearing normal clothes. Each person had matching eyeliner and wait, does that person have horns… and a tail? What sort of fucked up LARP furry cult were you kidnapped into?

“Honestly…” Another voice rang out “Coming through the door of your own accord is virtually unheard of, why are you in such a rush?” A bird masked individual said as he approached you, two glowing yellow orbs peaking through the mask, each part of his person accessorized to fit a perfect aesthetic. Okay, thats a pretty cool costume you’ll admit, but it still doesn't change that you are obviously in the wrong place.

"Um… probably because some strange carriage literally kidnapped me and forced me into a coffin and then I woke up here? I don't think I'm in the right place."

"Hmm I don't think you are entirely lucid yet… a side effect of the teleportation magic perhaps…" the man wondered out loud.

"Can you break character for a second and tell me where the hell I am, dude?" You glared at him and a few of the weird adults around you laugh. You keep a brave face despite the fear building up.

"You are at Night Raven College, a prestigious magician training school in Twisted Wonderland." The masked man states bluntly and confidently like that explains everything.

"Didn't I just say to break character? I'm not playing DND here or anything, I need to get home, I'm not supposed to be here in this weird cult thing… I need to get home!" a few more laughs reverberated in the crowd.

"I'm being serious, this is a school for magicians"

"Right well… I don't have magic. How's that?" You give a smug smirk. "So please send me home?"

The man just gives an infuriating blank expression. "Why, you are here because the black carriage recognized you as a powerful mage! You should be quite proud of that given how young to appear to be! Please stand by and the mirror will sort you into your dorm shortly!"

"I was kidnapped first of all, and I don't even have that weird robe thing! Look dude, you got the wrong person! I'll go up to that mirror right now and show you!" You assume this "magic' mirror was just some computer check in thing. Hopefully when you give your name it'll prove you aren't on the list of whatever the fuck this is.

"My, so hasty… such is the youth I suppose. Fine then, go up to the mirror."

You must give props to this actor for staying in character the full time, but now wasn't the time. As you approach the mirror you hear whispers, and you see 5 individuals and a floating tablet standing by it, looking as superior as they could. Some glared at you, others looked intrigued.

The mirror spoke, "State thy name."

"Yuu…"

"You're soul is… invalid… I cannot read it. Therefore I sort you in no dorm."

The crowd murmurs amongst themselves as the masked person looks genuinely surprised. "Well then. I must apologize, there must be some mistake." You exhale in relief. Finally he gets it. "Mirror, send this person home!" No response. Why was he asking the mirror?

"Ahem… Mirror take this person—"

"I cannot."

"... huh…" You frown

"This child's home is nowhere. They do not exist here. They are from another dimension. Therefore, they cannot be sent home."

The crowd's murmurs get louder. You still don't believe in this whole weird magic school act thing. "Are you fucking kidding me, did I seriously get isekaied by a horse drawn carriage?" 

At that you see the floating tablet mute themselves. Before you could even turn around and ask for the masked man to get a real person to send you home, a strange creature runs in front of you. You stared at it in complete shock.

"Mrahaha! If they can't join this school, then there's room for me!" The weird cat thing talks. Flames came out its ears and its tail was forked. What the fuck, what the fuck. How is this cat on fire and talking?

The crowd laughed at the cat's words. "Oh yeah?! I'll show you!" The creature yells out. You didn't think much of it until you saw blue plumes of flames come from its mouth and aim directly into the crowd. The crowd yells and pushes each other around. You could feel the heat.

This couldn't be some high tech animatronic could it? You gawk as banners catch flames and you see some of the mages in the crowd casting water spells to put themselves out. Is this really another world…? No way… no way. You have to get hit by a truck for that! This just has to be a very weird fever dream...

Another blast of flames is fired across from you, growing bigger and bigger, threatening to engulf everything in the room. One person from before lets out an annoyed sigh and you see him turn to approach the flame. 

Without thinking you immediately run over to pull him back catching him by surprise and making him stumble. "Dude, what are you doing?!" The doll faced young man looks over at you in shock, before his race reddens.

"How DARE YOU try to—"

"Riddle enough! They were just trying to help!" Another taller green haired mad says with a clover on his face. "Come with me…" the man says before pulling you back protectively.

You watch as the strange ruby-haired man, Riddle– what a stupid name–, approaches the weird cat. He raises his arm before lowering it. "OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!" He yelled, and a strange collar appeared around the cat. The flames around the room suddenly die.

"Hey what gives?! What I'll just… huh?! My magic! Its…"

"Sealed away. That collar around your neck does not allow you to use magic." Riddle states. "No cats are allowed are celebrations, your very existence here is a violation." A few robed figures go to grab their cat and toss him out.

"Damn…" you mumbles as you step put from behind the stranger that protected you.

"You there, child." Riddle states, still looking upset. "What you did was dangerous, you should have never stepped in to try to help."

Oh this dudes attitude pissed you off with how condescending he sounded. "Well sorry for trying to fucking make sure you didn't burn yourself. God forbid I didn't know you could do that weird collar thing."

The green haired man paled and the face of Riddle got red. "Excuse me?! You need to learn how to treat your superiors with respect–"

"I respect whoever respects me regardless of age! And you're not superior at all! You throw tantrums like a kid!" You spat back and the crowd seemed to laugh. The green haired man tries to pull you back. "Come on now, Yuu try to be nice…"

"Why would I? He's the one that started it! He can start yelling at people for no good reason but I can't? Hell who the fuck even names their kid Riddle its such a stupid name!"

Riddle was fuming at this point and everyone just seemed to either cringe or watch in rapt excitement. "IT IS NOT! You have not followed a single rule of the entrance ceremony! Those who don't follow the rules should be punished! Especially rude ones like you!"

"Did you not hear the mirror? I'm not from this world! I literally don't know any rules at all! How are you gonna get mad at me for that?! You're the one that keeps yelling for no reason and then getting mad at me for giving back the same energy? And now you're trying to threaten me!"

"Enough!" The red head yells. "Apologize now or it's off with your head!"

"Oh no my magic that I totally have! I'm so scared! Go ahead and do it! You're only punishing me because I'm right! You can't ever comprehend being wrong so you need to make yourself look stronger in every other way because you're a coward and a control freak! I may not have been in this world long, but something tells me in the real world you can't collar everyone that upsets you! You're a coward and a god damn fucking tyrant that feels the need to prove himself superior to a fucking TWELVE year old just because I had the audacity to try and help you! I am twelve and everyone here appears to be an adult yet none of you are actually helping me! I wanna go home!"

"Enough!" The masked man's voice yells out and you huff and look away. "That is enough for both of you." You look over at another man with blueish hair and glasses along with a mole struggling to hold in a laugh. You narrow your eyes. "Oh I just KNOW your bitch ass isn't laughing with your birthing hips and gay little face!" The man's eyes widen and he stares in shock for moment before looking down at himself. The crowd erupts in laughter.

"Yuu!" The masked man reprimands before sighing. "Dorm leaders! Take your students to their new homes! I will deal with this… situation" As everyone left, you glared at Crowley.

"It's about time you fucking listened me, hot topic wannabe ass." Crowley could tell that this child would fit in perfectly here.

[cera-writes]

"Ma chère, you are mine." 🃏part Four

"Never regret thy fall, O Icarus of the fearless flight, For the greatest tragedy of them all, Is never to feel the burning light" - Oscar Wilde

[: Please, Just Breathe - Written By Wolves]

The sterile scent of disinfectant did little to mask the tremor in Gambit's hands. He traced a finger along the cool metal railing of your bed, his reflection distorted in the chrome. Days had bled into nights, a monotonous vigil punctuated only by the rhythmic beeping of the machines keeping you tethered to this world. You were lying motionless on a bed back at the X-Mansion.

Literal weeks had passed since the massacre of Genosha. The X-men had brought your body back, wondering whether just to bury what was left of you or wait for some sort of miracle.

"Hey there, ma chere," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the cool sheets. "Been a rough couple of weeks, that's for sure. Feels like the world decided to take a nosedive after you were savin' our collective butts."

A wry smile tugged at his lips, but it never reached his eyes. The memory of your sacrifice, of the raw power you wielded, sent a shiver down his spine. You were still here, thank heavens, but how much of you remained?

"Was I ever good enough for you, Eclipse?" the question tumbled out, a ragged whisper. "Did I ever truly measure up to the expectations of the woman who could snuff out the damn sun?"

He knew it was a stupid question. He loved you, fierce and unconditional, but the doubt gnawed at him nonetheless. Had he been just another adventure in the grand tapestry of your extraordinary life?

Taking a deep breath, he launched into a slow recount. "Genosha, chere... man, it was bad. A slaughterhouse. Rogue's beside herself, grief eatin' her alive. Went tearin' after answers, found nothin' but dead ends."

The weight of his unspoken words hung heavy in the air. A tear escaped, tracing a glistening path down his temple, landing with a soft plop on the back of your hand. The silence in the room was deafening, only replaced by the sound of the monitor as it beat to the slow, faint rhythmic pulse of your heart.

"Oh, darlin'," he rasped, his voice thick as he wiped at his tears. "Professor says you're stuck between worlds, a flicker of a flame in a hurricane."

A muscle in his jaw clenched. The diagnosis, delivered by a surprisingly alive Charles Xavier, was a gut punch. You, the woman who could snuff out the damn sun, were a wisp, a fading ember.

"Said it would take someone reachin' in, pullin' you back from the brink," Gambit continued, his voice tight. He knew what that meant. Someone had to wade into the void, navigate the chaotic remnants of your near-death experience, and somehow coax you back to the land of the living.

A wry smile, tinged with desperation, tugged at the corner of his lips. "Looks like it's time to try an' bring you back, wouldn't you say, ma chere?"

He knew the risks. The void could be a treacherous landscape, a swirling vortex of emotions and memories. But the thought of facing life without you was a desolate wasteland he couldn't bear to contemplate.

A flicker of movement caught his eye. Professor X, ever-stoic despite the ordeal with the Shi'ar, sat by the window, his gaze fixed on the storm raging outside, mirroring the turmoil within.

"Professor," Gambit called out, his voice laced with a mixture of defiance and hope. "Any chance that fancy head of yours can cook up a way to get me there? Looks like I got a rescue mission on my hands."

Charles turned, his eyes holding a depth of understanding that only someone who had stared into the abyss himself could possess. A flicker of something akin to approval crossed his features.

"Gambit," he said, his voice raspy but firm, "you've always had a knack for the impossible. Perhaps this is just another challenge in your colorful repertoire."

"I think I'm done waitin' for any possibilty of her coming back from the dead, I gotta reach into her mind now, pull her back. No more waitin' around."

"You know the risks Gambit. And you're certain this is what you want to do?"

"Plus sûr que je ne l'ai jamais été," Remy nodded, placing his hand over your cold, unmoving one.

"Okay," Professor X nodded once, joining you at your bedside. "I'll have to link the two of you telepathically. It's a dangerous gamble but worth a fighting chance. There's also a chance you could be pulled into the darkness with her. But the bond between you should give you good luck in our efforts of bringing Eclipse back."

A surge of relief washed over Gambit, a lifeline thrown across the churning waters. He wouldn't be going in alone. With Xavier's help, he might just have a fighting chance of dragging you back from the brink.

"The odds always be in my favor, Professor." He smirked, a determined glint hardened his gaze.

He wouldn't let the darkness win. He wouldn't let you go. You'd been gone for far too long; longer than he'd had the patience of waiting for. He'd delve into the void, face whatever demons lurked within, and bring his sunshine back home.

Professor X cleared his mind, prompting Gambit to do the same. He pressed two fingers on each side of his temple and began the process of linking all three of your minds together in a psionic surge.

The world dissolved into a swirling vortex of colors, a chaotic kaleidoscope of emotions and memories. Gone was the sterile white room, replaced by a churning expanse of fragmented realities. Gambit plunged headfirst, the familiar tug of Professor Xavier's mental tether his only anchor in this tempestuous sea.

He fought against the relentless assault of disjointed images – flashes of the Genosha battle, the blinding brilliance of your eclipse power, the chilling emptiness of your still form. Each fragment ripped at him, threatening to pull him under in this maelstrom of your subconscious.

Then, he saw it. A lone figure, shrouded in shadow, standing on a precipice overlooking a vast emptiness. You. But this wasn't the Eclipse he knew. This figure seemed lost, a hollow shell consumed by an inky darkness that pulsed around her like a malevolent aura.

"Eclipse?" Gambit called out, his voice a threadbare whisper against the roaring storm.

The figure turned, her head a swirling mass of darkness where her face should have been. Tendrils of inky energy lashed out, coiling around his mental form, a chilling touch that sent shivers down his spine.

Fear gnawed at him, but the memory of your smile, the warmth of your hand in his, fueled his resolve. He wouldn't let the darkness win.

"Don't you give up on us, cher," he roared, channeling his Cajun charm into a psychic shout that echoed through the void. "We need you, the X-Men need you. Hell, the whole damn world needs you."

His words seemed to pierce the veil of darkness surrounding the figure. A flicker of recognition sparked in the empty void where her eyes should have been. A whisper, faint as a dying ember, reached his mind.

"Remy?"

Hope surged through him, a beacon in the storm. He pushed forward, his own memories forming a bridge across the void. He conjured moments of shared laughter, missions where the two of them had to work together to see it through, their own kind of connection that he didn't have with anyone else. Images flashed before the shadowed figure – the comfort after heartbreak, the playful banter during training sessions, the laying of her head on his shoulder the night before she died in his arms.

Slowly, the darkness began to recede. The inky tendrils loosened their grip, revealing fragments of your true self beneath. A tear, a single luminous droplet, trickled down the shadowy visage.

"I... I can't control it," your voice, weak and trembling, echoed in his mind. "The darkness... it's a part of me now."

"Maybe," Gambit conceded, his voice firm yet gentle. "But you're still Eclipse, chere. The woman who fights for what's right, the woman who lights up the darkest corners. You're stronger than you think."

He stretched out a mental hand, a beacon of warmth and love. The figure hesitated, then hesitantly reached back, her touch tinged with fear and uncertainty.

It wasn't enough. You were still adrift, tethered to the void by a threadbare connection.

"Professor?" Gambit called out, a desperate plea in his mind.

A wave of mental energy surged through the connection, bolstering the bridge they had built. It was a risky maneuver, Professor Xavier pushing his telepathic abilities to their very limit.

Together, they pulled. They coaxed. They pleaded with every fiber of their beings.

Slowly, ever so slowly, the figure began to respond. The darkness receded further, revealing glimpses of your true form. A single tear, shimmering with a familiar light, traced a path down your cheek.

Then, with a final desperate tug, they pulled you free. The world dissolved back into the sterile white room, the sterile scent of disinfectant stinging his nostrils.

You gasped, a rattling sound that filled the room with a melody sweeter than any song. Your eyes fluttered open, a spark of life rekindled within their depths.

"Remy?" your voice, weak but hopeful, echoed in the room.

A choked sob escaped his lips, relief washing over him like a tidal wave. He wasn't alone. You were back. And together, you would face the darkness, both within and without.

"You're back! She's back!" Remy couldn't stop grinning and shaking with tears, pulling you into a deep embrace as his arms held onto you so tightly that he was scared if he let go, you'd leave him again.

"Oh cher, don't you ever scare Gambit like dat again!" He shook with sobs as he nestled his face into your hair. You held him back, tears cascading down your cheeks.

"I-I thought I was dead," you choked, voice merely a whisper. "I did too, cher. We all did. Rogue went to out tryin' to get revenge for you." Remy stroked your hair, no sign of breaking your shared embrace.

You took in the scent of him, tobacco and sandalwood with a hint of spice you'd always found comfort in whenever he was around. That scent that you'd loved and missed so, so dearly.

"Remy..." you cried, just letting your emotions tumble out of you. You were alive, and he had brought you back. Your Remy.

"Shh, shh, it's gon' be okay chere. You're okay," he soothed. You sighed into his touch, his presence alone bringing you back to life with every comforting word and soothing touch.

Something else caught your attention for a split second as you glanced over. You'd notice that chair anywhere. It was Professor Xavier, who was still very much alive and well. A small smile graced your lips.

"Professor?" your voice raspy, barely a whisper.

Xavier offered a reassuring smile. "Yes, Eclipse. You're back." He turned to Gambit, a hint of amusement twinkling in his eyes. "I believe you two require some time to reacquaint yourselves. I'll inform the others."

With a nod, he exited the room, leaving you and Gambit alone in the sterile silence. Relief finally battled with exhaustion, your eyelids heavy as you tried to focus on the man before you as you pulled away to finally get a good look at him, that face you missed so dearly.

"What... what happened?" your voice trembled as you tried to piece together the fragmented memories swirling in your mind.

Taking a deep breath, Gambit launched into a slow, heartfelt recount. He spoke of Genosha, the devastating attack, and Rogue's consuming grief. He touched upon Emma's unexpected transformation and the lingering uncertainty surrounding Magneto's fate. But most importantly, he spoke of the chilling revelation – the existence of a new enemy, a shadowy figure known as Bastion.

As he spoke, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. You closed your eyes, the weight of the world settling on your weary shoulders.

Sensing your fatigue, Gambit stopped his narrative, gently squeezing your hand. "Don't you worry about the rest, chere. You take all the time you need to get your strength back. We'll handle things here."

A weak smile graced your lips. "Thank you, Remy," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "For everything."

He leaned closer, his eyes searching yours. "Don't even think about thank you's, chere. Just get yourself healthy. We've got a whole world of trouble waitin' for us, and it ain't gonna fight itself."

A tired chuckle escaped your lips. You knew he was right. The fight was far from over, but for now, all that mattered was the warmth of his hand in yours, the steady beat of his heart a counterpoint to your own. With him by your side, you could face anything, even the darkness that still lingered within.

"There'll be time to talk later," you rasped, your eyelids fluttering closed once more. "Just... stay with me, Remy. Please?"

He didn't hesitate. Pulling a chair closer to your bedside, he settled in, running his fingers through your soft hair. In the quiet of the sterile room, he kept vigil, a silent promise etched on his face. You were back, and he wouldn't let you slip away again. Together, you would face whatever darkness lurked in the shadows, both within and without.

══════════════════

The sterile white of the infirmary faded to the familiar blue and gold of the X-Mansion as you stumbled out, supported by Remy's steady arm. A day of rest had done wonders, but the echoes of the void still lingered in your mind, a faint tremor that unsettled you.

Remy squeezed your hand reassuringly. "Easy there, belle. You're still movin' a bit like a newborn giraffe."

You managed a weak smile. "Feels like it. I have questions, Remy. About Genosha... about Bastion."

He sighed, a flicker of pain crossing his eyes. "Plenty of time for dat later, chere. Professor wants you to ease back in slow."

But the urgency gnawed at you. You could feel it in the hushed whispers that followed you down the hallway, in the worried glances cast your way. The world had moved on while you were trapped in your own personal nightmare, and you were desperate to catch up.

Suddenly, a commotion erupted from the training room. The sound of crashing metal and shouts echoed through the halls. You exchanged a confused glance with Remy.

"Looks like someone's havin' a temper tantrum," he muttered, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Before you could respond, Ororo burst through the doorway, her face a mask of frustration.

"Remy, Eclipse," she said, her voice clipped. "Professor Xavier needs you in the war room. Now."

The urgency in her voice sent a jolt of adrenaline through you. You exchanged a wordless look with Remy before following Ororo, the tremor in your legs replaced by a growing sense of dread.

The war room buzzed with activity. Xavier sat at the center table, his brow furrowed in concentration. Scott and Jean stood beside him, their expressions grim. But it was the sight of Rogue in the corner, her aura crackling with barely contained rage, that sent a shiver down your spine.

"What's going on?" you asked, your voice cutting through the tension-filled silence.

"We've received a message," Xavier said, his voice strained. "From Bastion."

He gestured to the holographic screen at the center of the table. A distorted figure flickered to life, a silhouette shrouded in darkness.

"Mutants," the figure boomed, his voice filled with malice. "Your defiance has reached its end. You will all face your judgment."

The image flickered before dissolving into static. You felt a familiar coldness creep up your spine. Bastion's voice resonated within you, a dark echo stirring the remnants of fear from your recent ordeal.

"What's he planning?" you asked, the question hanging heavy in the air.

"He's making a statement," Scott said, his jaw clenched tight. "A threat. He wants us to live in fear."

Rogue let out a growl. "He wants a fight. And believe me, he's gonna get one."

The air crackled with barely contained energy. You could see in their eyes the same desperation you felt – the need to act, to strike back before Bastion could make his next move.

"We can't let him control us," Jean said, her voice steady but firm. "We need a plan."

Xavier nodded, his gaze flicking to you. You felt a spark of apprehension. Despite your weakened state, you knew you wouldn't be left out of the coming conflict.

"Eclipse," Xavier said, his voice filled with a question. "Are you well enough for this?"

You straightened your shoulders, a newfound determination fueling your resolve.

"More than well enough, Professor," you replied, your voice ringing clear and strong. "The X-Men fight together. And I'm not going to sit this one out."

A flicker of approval crossed Xavier's face. A sense of unity settled over the room, replacing the fear with a steely resolve. The battle against Bastion had begun, and the X-Men, battered but not broken, were ready to fight. You had stared into the void and come back. Now, it was time to face what lurked in the shadows.

When the meeting was seemingly dismissed, you lingered in the halls with Remy for a beat too long. There was still so much that lingered unspoken between the both of you. Neither of you had admitted actual feelings yet. You reached out for him, but he brushed you off, a coolness to the air. "Sorry chere, I'm just...still gettin' used to dis. It's crazy. You bein' back from the dead and all. Don't get me wrong, I'm more than happy you're back. It's just...I dunno chere, I guess I just need time to process it all," he sighed heavily flipping a Queen card between his fingers.

You understood all too well, your own feelings of displacement fresh. You'd been away for weeks but present at the same time.

"Right, no...I-I understand. I need time too," you replied, feeling an air of indifference between the two of you. You parted ways, even as your feet dragged the halls. It stung. You couldn't lie. But if time was what Remy needed, you'd give that to him with respect and space.

The sterile halls of the X-Mansion echoed with an emptiness that mirrored the hollowness you felt inside. The near-death experience had left you adrift, a ghost haunting the place you once called home. You craved a connection, a familiar voice amidst the strategizing and simmering tension.

Spotting Morph lounging by a window, a pang of relief nearly flooded through you. "Hey stranger, finally back from the dead to catch up on our horror movie sessions. Sorry it took me so damn long."

Morph smirked. "There's that dark sense of humour I missed. C'mere." They opened their arms and brought you into a bone crushing hug. "Careful there, or you'll break me in half." you smirked, hugging them back with equal comfort.

"I've missed your dumb face. Your real one. You know how many times I had to shapeshift into you just so I could get by without breaking down? Every time I did, only to see you staring back at me in the mirror, telling me you were okay and shit was gonna be alright?" They sighed, voice trembling and threatening to break with each word.

"Oh, Kevin..." you were trying so hard to fight back your own wave of emotions. "Don't ever pull that shit again Eclipse." They pulled away, serious this time.

You decided to take this conversation to the living room, a vast open area where the two of you used to laugh at stupid rom coms. You took a seat on the sofa, patting the seat next to you for Morph to join.

They settled in beside you, popping a can of soda in the process, soaking in the rare moment of calm. The weird sensation of having you back.

"Tell me about Genosha, Morph. Remy filled me in on the big stuff, but…"

Their face hardened. "It was bad, Eclipse. Real bad. I watched the events transpire on television and let's just say, no horror movie could pale in comparison to what I saw on the news. And Rogue… well, she was not herself."

They recounted the raw grief that had consumed Rogue, her powers surging out of control as she sought vengeance. He spoke of the fight with Synch, the desperation in her eyes.

"And Remy? How'd he cope with it all?" you finally asked, voice tinged with trepidation, the question lingering heavy in the air.

Morph hesitated, then sighed. "He was lost, Eclipse. He cared for you deeply. But after… well, after you were gone, Rogue was on a one-woman warpath. Gambit tried to reason with her, but…" they trailed off, leaving the unspoken words hanging in the air.

You felt a flicker of something akin to disappointment. Despite your connection with Remy, the knowledge that he might have sought solace in Rogue during your absence twisted a knot in your gut. You couldn't have blamed him though.

"There was more to it than that," a voice cut in, sharp and laced with a raw honesty that made you turn. Rogue stood there at the archway into the living room, arms crossed.

"Rogue," you said, your voice cautious. "I can't imagine what you've been through."

"Hey sugah...things ain't been easy since you went lights out on us."

She took a step closer, her voice dropping to a low murmur. "Don't pretend, Eclipse. You and I, we both know there was something between Remy and me after you… after you died."

A wave of unexpected honesty washed over you. You met her gaze, your voice equally as raw. "I always felt there was something lingering between the two of you. Remy made no mistake of hiding it... but Genosha, and that dance with Magneto... did you love Remy?"

The question hung in the air for a beat too long before Rogue finally answered. "Maybe. In a way. But it wasn't the same. He was… broken, Eclipse. After you were gone, a part of him just… shut down. The man i knew wasn't my Remy."

Her words struck a chord deep within you. You remembered the haunted look in Remy's eyes, the way his touch had seemed distant, a mere echo of the warmth you once shared.

"He tried to help me," Rogue continued, her voice heavy with regret. "But he was just going through the motions. It wasn't fair to either of us," she explained, making her way closer to you.

A strange sense of understanding bloomed between you. You saw the vulnerability in Rogue's eyes, the unspoken grief she'd been trying to mask. It wasn't about betrayal, you realized. It was about two people clinging to the wreckage of their emotions, seeking solace in a broken bond.

"We all lost someone, Rogue," you said, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder. "But we can't let that break us. We have to fight. To live to see another day. And for Remy too. Maybe, just maybe, by fighting together, we can help him find his way back to himself."

Rogue flinched but didn't pull away. A flicker of something akin to hope flickered in her eyes, a silent pact forged in shared grief and a newfound understanding. She was still your best friend and nothing would ever change that.

[moe-moe-kyun]

Malicious Compliance

Synopsis: MC gets annoyed at Lucifer's bossiness and decides to toy with him a little.

Tags/Warnings: Nudity, suggestive, gender neutral reader, lucifer x MC, lucifer x reader, cursing, explicit language

Minors DNI!!

Notes: I'm writing a smut version of this :3 it just got a lil long and im doin all this on mobile lol

Condensation masked the mirror as you stepped from the shower, steam saturating the bathroom air. You tossed a towel over your shoulders and tappen the screen of your D.D.D. to awaken it- did Asmo finally send you that link for the up-and-coming influencer's DevilTube?

Lucifer: 6 Missed Calls

Fuck. You were boned. How had you not heard the phone vibrating?

Lucifer's profile image- a picture of the two of you on a task to the Human World- popped up as he called you again, and you were quick to answer.

"Finally. Come up to my office, we need to discuss your latest progress report." He sounded stern.

"Okay, I'll be up in, like, 5 minutes? I just-"

"Now," Lucifer cut you off before abruptly ending the call.

"The boning continues," you murmur. You move to finish toweling off but think 'Fuck it. He wants me there now? Bastard gets a wet floor,' and affix the towel around your waist while stepping out of the bathroom.

It took until you were halfway to Lucifer's office for doubt on your malicious compliance to creep in. The nearby railing was a lucky godsend to keep you from falling as your wet feet slipped on the hardwood floor. Too late now, you resolved, and continued the journey.

The doors to Lucifer's office creaked open. He didn't glance up at your entrance until he heard the soft 'plap's of water droplets colliding with the floor. You were moving to shake off more water as he finally met your gaze.

"MC, why are you not wearing clothes?"

"Because someone refused to listen when I said I needed a few minutes to dry off and get dressed," you snarked in response as he sighed.

"Please dry off and change, we can discuss the report when you're decent," his gaze was squarely on the desk before him, the faintest tint of pink blessing his pale cheeks.

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"No," you approached his desk as you spoke, "if I leave the office now I'm not coming back. What'd you need to talk about?"

Lucifer begged his gaze not to slip to where the towel was slipping around your waist, the faux knot coming loose little by little.

He clears his throat before beginning, knowing better than to try and argue at this point: "very well. The latest report from you Flora and Fauna of the Lower Circles of Hell course is less than satisfactory. There's a missing report and two assignments marked as C's." Lucifer points out each part of the progress report to you as he lists them. You stay quiet, leaning over from behind his chair, as he speaks.

"Huh, professor must not've updated it. There was an issue with TurnItIn that night and almost every student got a submission receipt while the teacher's end didn't get the actual paper, so that's square. The low scores were group assignments, see?" You move to point at the paper where 'Group Work' is printed in small lettering, and your bare chest brushes against Lucifer's back. You pretend not to notice how his spine stiffens in response.

"I will follow up with your professor to corroborate, but I suppose your explanations are satisfactory in the meantime," Lucifer says, placing the report down next to the others from your classes.

"Ooh is that one from Devildom Law? Move I wanna see what he said," you speak quickly, excited at the opportunity to see your grade.

Lucifer isn't sure how to react as you push your way in between him and his desk, sitting in his lap as you go over the report. He can't help the bulge growing in his pants, his cock getting harder the longer he looks at your bare back, water droplets still sliding down until they absorb into the loose towel around your waist.

"MC," he manages through grit teeth.

"Yeah, Luci?" He could hear your grin.

'They've known what they were doing this entire time,' the realization hits him as you slide farther back onto his lap. Lucifer's hands grip the armrests so hard his knuckles turn white.

The coy smile spreads greater across your face when your ass comes in contact with Lucifer's dick practically twitching in its confines. Just when it seemed you were about to grind against him, you stood. Relief flooded Lucifer's veins. How embarrassing this situation was- he prayed you would leave him with a shred of dignity and not acknowledge his arousal.

"Okay, well, if that's all?"

"Yes, you are free to return to your prior activities. Thank you for clarifying the report with me," Lucifer replied. He would never admit how much effort it took to keep his voice level as he met your gaze.

"Okiedokie, see you at dinner!" With a cheerful goodbye you pranced out of the office, leaving Lucifer to deal with his problem alone.

"Cheeky human," he muttered.

[yuri-is-online]

Pas de Deux: A Fyuuture Kid au pt. 2 (Rook x Yuu)

Once upon a time there was a house in the woods. Three people lived inside it and they were very happy because soon there was going to be a fourth One day a man in a suit came and knocked on the door of the house, but he did not want to say hello. He was not interested in how happy the people in the house were or that that day was very important. The man was there because he had decided there should only be two people in the house, and because the world is not always kind, and not all houses are happy ones, the man in the suit got his way.

And now there was only one person in the house and he felt very alone.

notes: this will not make sense if you have not read pt.1, so please do. They/them used for Yuu, and the name Oliver is used interchangeably Yutu. This contains lengthy one shot parts, but does still have some hc bullet points. WARNING: major character death, body horror, angst with a bittersweet ending. This is part of the fyuuture kid au, more of which can be found on my masterlist here under the series section.

"Is Oli awake yet?" The new boy, Roland, is an absolute mess and if he didn't look so pitiful you would have told Rook to dry him off outside and not in your Lounge. Rook isn't deathly serious about much, but he is about this and you can't help but feel a bit out of the loop even if it is clear that it somehow revolves around you.

"Non, I'm afraid you gave your brother quite the fright." Rook gently says, carefully massaging Roland's head to dry his hair and try to soothe the tension currently shuddering across his body. "Focus on yourself for now and let our dear Trickster take care of Monsieur Caneton." He smiles at you and you break eye contact to catch your breath, coughing to excuse yourself up the stairs to Yutu's room and away from your personal problems, content to let Grim bother the pair about cleaning up their mess.

You aren't as observant as Rook, but seeing Yutu's face had sparked a strange dissonant feeling in you that you think was triggered by his appearance. The color of his hair, the fat of his cheeks, the way his nose wrinkled when Rook had laid him in his bed (and not so subtlety flexed his biceps while you were watching) felt familiar to you. Absent his hood, he looked like you had spun DNA from yourself into yarn and knit him into being, borrowing ever so slightly from another source to sew his eyes and nose in such a way that a sideways glace would send even the strongest of beasts running. Even before those eyes fluttered open you knew what color they would be, but still you laughed at the forest green that looked up at you.

"Sleep well?" Yutu scrambles away from you, yanks the covers over his head and turns frantically around looking for his hood and mask you know are tucked away downstairs well out of reach. He is stammering, saying a random assortment articles together but failing to describe anything as you try to stick what you had planned to say. "Is it just 'Oli' or is that short for something?" Yutu pauses his searching, but he keeps the sheet between you and his face.

"... it's Oliver. But Yutu is still fine if that's easier." There are a few ways you can go about this, you think as you lean back in your chair.

"I don't really care about what's easier." Because it's true, if you did you probably would have run away from this school the second Crowley turned his back. Damn crow probably wouldn't have gone looking for you either. "I care about what will make you comfortable, since I don't think you planned on ever having this conversation with me." You reach forward slowly, making sure to pause just before you reach the sheet counting on him to intuitively know you are asking for permission. He lets it down himself, allowing you to go back to crossing your arms as you look at him. Oliver mirrors you, holding the sheet around himself taking several breaths before clearly trying to collect some thread of a thought before the damn breaks.

"I'm from the future."

"I should hope so." You hum. "Not that I would put it past him, but Rook would have some explaining to do if you weren't." He coughs and you smile.

"Well- you. You aren't intimidated by that at all? Rook I mean, not... me." He's much quieter than any child you'd expected Rook to ever contribute too, much more jumpy but that's not as disturbing as him calling his father by his first name.

"I've accepted what I feel for him for a while now." The window is much more appealing than your son's face but you force yourself to maintain eye contact. "The idea of him reciprocating is- or well was given you're here, something I thought was never going to happen."

"But he writes you letters! I-" Oliver shouts before remembering said man is downstairs and undoubtedly listening for every breath he takes. "I used to read them." Now it is your turn to be embarrassed as you cough and think about the little box you have so carefully hidden upstairs. Not carefully enough it seems, but then again this isn't just your child.

"Well he didn't sign them. And besides..." It was perhaps a bit harsh to count against Rook's statement that he felt like he was fickle and his heart easily captured. No one had really wanted to propose to the ghost bride so it was natural of him to say something like that and it wasn't like he had known you particularly well back then either. He hadn't said he would never want to get married, just that it was too early to think about and if you were being practical that was the most reasonable position to take- "Look it doesn't really matter! What does is that you're here and not for fun right? And what's up with your brother? I clearly didn't raise you in barn so what gives with him?" It's obvious you're embarrassed and deflecting, but still it works as Yutu, or Oliver you now suppose, takes a deep breath and begins to tell you a story, the ending of which, in a way, you already know. ~~~~ Roland was ten when the changes started. Papa did not come home immediately when the night fell, which was not strange. He had been old enough not to worry. It was not strange for Papa to come home injured, it was not strange for there to be blood. But the blood had been dull that time, dull and Papa hadn't said much. He had held him though, hummed a song that felt like home. No matter where they had traveled he had never heard a song so wonderful, it had a name but Papa said it wouldn't help to find it. It was a yuusong, from "beyond the rift." Roland liked it a lot even if he could only remember a few strains of the words and understood none of their meaning

"Mon poussin, are you afraid of being alone?" It was a silly question of Papa to ask. "No matter where you go, your parent and I will always watch over you. So long as you live this world will be a beautiful place. I love you, so much more than my heart can give me words to describe." It was a scary thing to say. Such a silly and scary thing to ask and say that Papa forgot about it when he woke up the next morning, he would have forgotten about Roland too if he hadn't have yelled at him for it. Papa had said nothing at all that morning actually, not even a twitch of a smile or a laugh at his protest. Roland's mind must have painted over how there was no blood anymore, there was the ink- the blot he had been training so long to avoid instead. The Hunter had allowed him to follow and that allowed him to do all of the lying he might have needed to think things were fine to himself.

And on some level Roland knew that's what he had been doing all of this time but now that he was here, wherever here was, he was being forced to think about it.

"Are you hungry or somethin?" The racoon stares up at him, angry he thinks because its paws are on its hips. "Ya keep staring off into space and it's creepy!"

"Is it?" Roland tries to blink and the racoon jumps away from him so he moves closer so as not to miss anything it says.

"Y-yeah! It is! You're really creepy! And Rook's here so that's sayin something." The racoon mutters the last bit and Roland turns to look at Rook. He's too young, there are creases missing in his brow and a cruel bend to his gaze that isn't present when he looks at him. If anything Rook is looking at him in a way he thinks he should recognize, but doesn't remember the word for anymore.

"Are you hungry, Monsieur Poussin?" Rook smiles, the word that his mind supplies now is kind but it is still not the word he wants for the way Rook looks at him. Poussin... his focus breaks and Rook calls his name gently, fear is a word he remembers and holds onto. Most humans use that word when describing things so it grounds him somewhat.

"I guess." Turning down food is a bad idea even if the new sights and smells are almost too overwhelming to want to eat. When he looks back at Rook the fear has changed, he knows this look too but the humans he met never lived long enough to explain it to him. He thinks he still knows it though, but from where he doesn't want to remember. Not if there's actually going to be food. And thankfully Oliver comes down the stairs just in time to take the attention away from him.

"Roland?" He's still confused and Roland swallows the need to hug him, but he can't stop himself from shaking. "Where- how did you get here?"

"Where is here?" The strange person next to Oliver makes a noise like letting out a breath, and he thinks the racoon screams but he has never heard one do that before so he doesn't know. "Is this where you were? I've been looking for you, and for our parent too but if I've found you then they've got to be near." Roland hasn't thought about them much, dad always got so sad when he talked about them and after he stopped talking it was hard to get answers about anything. Talking about them always made him violent so he had tried his best not to do it. Oli sways a bit, almost like he's going to collapse again but the strange person moves to support him before Roland can.

"Thank you for doing that Roland, you sound like you've been a very good big brother." Something about their voice makes him want to cry, and he has to really work to remind himself that would be a waste of water when they smile at him. "But the answer to that is a bit complicated."

So. Roland. He has no real idea that the portal he went through was going to take him to the past, he just decided to race his "dad" for it and won. It's clear from talking to him that he's not the most educated or aware of things, he knows that he is "from" the Shaftlands, that he is a mage but he's not very practiced on how to use magic and says his dad "punishes" him when he tried to learn. He says he grew up traveling Twisted Wonderland looking for his parent and baby brother, but that his father was always present with him. He has memories of lots of places in Twisted Wonderland before the apocalypse began and while his descriptions are very child like, it gives Yutu some context for things he says will be useful in formulating a plan to stop the bad future.

In Roland's mind, Rook just got sick and became unable to talk after a while. It's clear he is aware on some level of what happened, he calls the phantom dad instead of papa, and while he plays off what were very clear attempts at murder as "games" the way he instinctively flinches at Rook's touch suggests his body knows even if his mind doesn't. His time following the phantom of his father around has clearly taken its toll on his body, his skin lacks the same level of pigmentation as his brother's, like someone has turned the saturation on his melanin up in a way that's clearly unnatural.

He's unused to actual food, he cries the first time you feed him even if it is just a cup noodle. Grim instantly forgives all of his weirdness when he agrees that canned tuna is the best thing he has ever tasted, he has a new favorite henchuman now (until he realizes this means he needs to share, then he demands Roland get a new favorite food). Rook insists on being the one to cook for him, he is genuinely terrified of the future that Roland and Oliver have described and he wants more than anything for his children to know he would never do anything like they experienced of his own free will. He is a hunter of love, not a practitioner of filicide.

There is of course, the small matter of how to explain all of this to Crowley, or if you even should given his suspicious absence in every story you just heard. Rook doesn't want either of his chicks out of sight, so he firmly rejects Yutu's suggestion to entrust Roland to his friends, something you second; you don't trust a bunch of random people with such a traumatized child, let alone one that's technically yours. Yutu suggests asking Idia for advice then, something you can't say you are surprised by given his glowing description of how the guy turns out in the future but still...

"So let me see if I understand this correctly." Idia has his head in his hands, not even bothering to use his tablet from just how done he is with this conversation, even though this marks his first participation in it. "Yutu is from the 'Bad Ending' timeline and he's come back here to make sure you get together with Rook."

"No!" You cough scream as Ortho dutifully pats you on your back in encouragement. "He's here because everyone overblots! Again! Except for you apparently. And Vil but that's only because of you?" He waves a single hand in the air.

"Yeah skill issue or whatevs- look." He finally looks up from his hands, if you didn't know any better you would say he's bored but it's clear from how he actually pauses and minimizes the game he was playing that's far from the case. "If Ortho didn't back up what you were saying about your hellspawn-" you take a deep breath and remind yourself said childrens' existence relies on this moron's help "then I wouldn't believe anything you just said, but it does kind of make sense."

"It does?" Idia pulls up some stills from what you assume are the school security systems of portals similar to what Rook described the one Roland appeared out of.

"The sentient blot phantoms isn't like anything S.T.Y.X. has recorded before, but if you assume monsters can experience evolution similar to how other species do it makes sense that it could happen. Especially if some sort of curse is involved, which it sounds like there has to be. Speaking of which, hellion 1." Idia doesn't bother to look at you so he misses the way your eye twitches.

"Roland?"

"Yeah. We're going to need to run some tests on him." Idia actually looks at you this time, which improves everything but your mood.

"Aren't you supposed to ask permission first?"

"If the world is going to end in roughly twenty years then no." Idia snorts. "I just don't want his parents showing up at S.T.Y.X. again demanding to see their favorite boy." "If his description of what his life was like is real, then he was raised by a phantom. If he's a mage, then it's miracle he hasn't overblotted and he's at real risk of hurting himself if he tries to learn to use magic at this point."

"Is there anyway you can do the tests here?" You don't like the thought of Roland hurting himself, but there have already been so many changes in his life in such a short period you are afraid one more might make him overblot anyway. "Or at least let Yutu go with him, he trusts him. I just- he's really skiddish."

"I can take some samples and send them for analysis, but if he's as fucked up as I think he is then he's going to need a detox that can't be done here." So Idia has the same set of thoughts that you do, that relaxes you somewhat even if you know very little is going to convince Rook to unwind.

"I can keep an eye on him." Ortho volunteers helpfully. "It would look weird if another student got added to Ramshackle out of nowhere, but transfers to Ignihyde aren't unheard of so we could have him stay with us!" Idia, surprisingly, doesn't shoot the idea down immediately, though he notices your confusion.

"What? Kid grew up in a blot infested forest, he'd probably be more at home here since it's so dark and gloomy. And besides he's going to need to learn how to use tech anyway if he wants to survive. Sides, it'll give us an excuse to keep him away from the other dorms."

You hate to say that Idia is right about anything, but he is about this. Roland really likes Ignihyde, tells you it doesn't smell as weird as Ramshackle (Rook has yet to introduce him to Pomefiore) and the Headmage accepts Idia's explanation of him being a S.T.Y.X. project ready for field testing easily enough. You suspect it might have something to do with him covering up all the overblots but wisely hold your tongue. He still comes to visit you and Yutu, but he's very slow to warm up to you. It's not that he doesn't love you, it's just that you were ripped away from him while he was still a baby so there's some trauma screaming at him that you don't really love him, otherwise you would have been there. The first time you really hug him, he breaks down ugly crying and holds on so tightly you swear he cracks some bones.

Roland is a mage, but his magic is weak from years of never practicing. He's very frustrated by this. Idia's surprised how willing he is to participate in the tests he wants to run on him, but not complaining. Roland tells him why quickly enough anyway, he's the oldest so he should be the one protecting his little brother and his parents but he can't if he's got something wrong with him. And just like that Idia regrets asking because he's feeling things like Rook Hunt's kid is being #relatable right now instead of a demon hellspwan from an overblotted future like he's supposed to be. Whatever he'll just take revenge by teaching him how to play video games. It'll be good enrichment for him probably, help him with that vocab.

And I mean it does. Roland certainly learns some new words. It's just that now you are having to explain to Vil that you are married to Rook in the future and yes, that child who talks like an mmo world chat is yours, you promise he's going to be better once the timeline gets fixed and you will have a chance to actually raise him. Vil is surprisingly supportive, both of Roland and Yutu. He already really liked Yutu, the magic of time travel must have made him remember how fond he was of the little sapling, and he is extremely proud to know he was in Pomefiore. Roland's life is a horror beyond his comprehension so he's determined to help teach him what it means to be human. Vil sees it as a test of his character development this far, sure he has an idea of what Roland should look like and how he should act, but what's the best way to introduce these things to him?

Epel is a huge help with Roland. He doesn't understand the gamer speak but he gets the rough and tumble phrases that come out when he's frustrated. He even surprises himself with how much he agrees with Vil on what Roland should do, and how his much of his advice is taken. It's such a beautiful sight Rook cries in pride every time he thinks about it. Roland wasn't super interested until Oliver told him about Vil being the reason he knew he had an older brother. He's still not 100% sold on what Vil tells him to do but if Epel reassures him and explains it then he'll do it.

The tests that Idia does prove that Roland isn't a danger to others, but he is very sick. Extended exposure to blot in its purest from has made him extremely sensitive to it, coming to this timeline has helped improve his chances somewhat but Idia doesn't think he would have lived more than two or three more years if he had stayed in the past. His magic is more or less killing him, so Ortho and Idia double down on teaching him how to use magical technologies. Idia makes sure to tell you and Rook this won't be a problem if you manage to create a good future, and that understanding this helps but still. Hearing your son only has a few years to live, and only if he stops actively using his magic hurts. No parent wants to hear that.

If Yutu has Rook's cunning and stealth, then Roland has his brutality and outgoing nature. He's very friendly, his only problem with speaking is that he lacks the vocabulary he needs to get his point across. Since he was raised by a phantom in the wilderness for a part of his life he has next to no problem hunting and killing., especially if it means he gets to keep his family. It's one of the things that allows him to connect with the real version of his father, Rook has a similar line of thinking, especially after hearing Roland's fate and the more he gets to spend time alone with you. He'd do anything to give his friends a happy future, but for you he would do anything. It's a disease, what is that poem you spoke to him about? Something about the poison from your lips being the deadliest of them all, he'll die if he has to live in a future without your kisses. It just will not happen, he won't let beauty leave this world forever.

Rook hates knowing you had to raise a child alone, he hates thinking that Oliver thought even for a second he abandons you. He hates knowing Roland thought you abandoned him and stole his brother, that he watched him die and refused to believe it. He hates seeing Roland run away from Trey holding onto his jaw, he loves all of Yutu's friends dearly and can't wait to meet their parents in the future. He loves sitting with you and hearing all of the thoughts you were too shy to tell him when you doubted his sincerity. He loves seeing Roland's efforts to adapt to his disability, he hates the fact his son is sick in the first place. He loves watching Yutu chase Azul around and he loves how Ace and Deuce fight about who would be the better Uncle even though it's clear Grim has already won the fight.

The future is always worth fighting for, and you will always be worth crying over. Has he mentioned he loves you yet today? Even when the day is won and the memories begin to fade, the compulsion to tell you remains. Rook knows you have no magic to speak of, but there is something about you when you hold him close that makes him think that can't be true, not really.

"Why Trickster?" Vil doesn't question his choice of nicknames ever, but now is as good a time as any Rook supposes. "I would have thought you would jump to something more romantic now that they've... accepted your invitation?"

"Non non beautiful Vil." Rook carefully sets aside his beaker, making sure that his project is in a place that he can pause before elaborating. "You do not understand, trickster is the most perfect description of my true love." Vil has a look that he makes sometimes that would make lesser men cease, a certain purse to the lips and blank look to the eyes that Rook never fails to ignore. "My true love is plain to the untrained eye, in our world power is thought to be strictly magical in nature but that isn't true. Just as the Fairest Queen was known for her unrelenting effort in the face of adversity so too does Yuu face down any and all that stands before them. Their determination is breathtaking, a magic all its own."

"You do seem quite powerless before it." Vil says dryly, but his smile betrays his true thoughts. Rook is eccentric, someone others only tolerate and, if Vil is as honest as he prides himself on being, the same could probably be said of you, the magicless prefect of a magic school. Of course Rook would love you, it gives him a few ideas for a movie, assuming he manages to hold onto them once time has been set right again.

But Vil will keep that to himself, it will make a lovely wedding gift for his dear hunter. He'll make sure to get you something much more practical.

[seven-meds]

Have you seen Joker: Folie à Deux yet? If so, what are your thoughts?

Spoilers, obviously.

It was tonally and philosophically very similar to the first. And I suppose I have to come to terms with the fact that I'm part of the closest thing to a "target audience" that it has. Personally, I would have felt spat on and kicked like a dog had it depicted a charismatic criminal duo leading a revolution. My displeasure at the concept of a sequel centered around my belief that it would abandon its nihilistic, antagonistic perspective to give the average fan something they can easily get elsewhere. It's a belittling, hateful couple of films, which is what interests me. Whether they're good or bad is irrelevant. Whether they respect me as a person is even more irrelevant because I am not meeting them where they are at.

In many ways it was deeply erotic, fetishistic, and honestly pornographic. The treatment of Arthur is gratuitous in its sadism, it's often lip-bitingly intense. The pleasure it takes in torturing him is transparent, and so openly sexual. In the most obvious case: hands grabbing and clutching his clothing to strip him bare, the display of his contorted body and exposed stomach, water and paint dripping down his neck and onto his chest. If you prefer fandom terms, it's whump. There were a few instances where I thought it should have gone much farther, where the way it held back felt cowardly or dishonest. Was any of this its intention? Difficult to say. The line between the emotional intensity of sex and the emotional intensity of pain is hard to distinguish.

Arthur's relationship with Harley mirrors his relationship with his mother, someone else he has to put a mask on for. Her painting his face before allowing him to fuck her is the equivalent of her having put a paper bag over his head. I enjoyed her manipulative and unpredictable nature. She's attractive in the way Lou Bloom is. And the very immediate and inappropriate whirlwind relationship that spawns from two people who connect entirely through their own suffering is familiar.

Hurt and pain is an intrinsic part of Arthur as a character, he's simply designed to suffer alone. This is what makes him so incredibly easy for certain people to like. Maybe they feel similarly about themselves, maybe they like the idea of healing him, maybe they just like to watch harm befall a man until he breaks. There are many reasons to find him beautiful just as he is, even if he was never intended to be.

To me his story was taken to its logical conclusion, a conclusion it could easily have reached in the first. A different outcome would not have made sense. And despite it being so logical and obvious I didn't expect it to happen at all. But it did.

[pillowbugs]

so uh. that poto au i did just over a week ago.

was playing around with some ships to figure out who would fit the roles of the other characters, and landed on airplaneshipping for christine and raoul. preferably ignore all the plot that would have to happen to lead to this point. (the scene where the phantom shoots fireballs, except in the pokémon universe it's a full on battle against the phantom and his chandelure. for an added bonus, look up the name of the 'song' sung during this part of the musical.)

unmasked ver. (additional design notes under cut)

elesa:

christine's dress in this scene is light blue, which is a colour that is indeed present in elesa's design (her bw2 outfit moreso). elesa not wearing any yellow felt wrong though, which is why the layers underneath are yellow-tinted.

went with her bw1 hair colour because christine was blonde in the original book.

her cloak is mostly based off her bw2 jacket in shape; it's black with a red clasp, which makes it not only similar to the cloak donned by christine in the musical but also retains the same idea of the cloak being a visual representation of the phantom's (who wears mostly black) hold over them. (+ the other colour ingo is most associated with is red.)

however, because of the lighting, said cloak appears yellow on the side closer to skyla - more similar to her canon design, and being close to skyla in a way rids her of the darkness.

she gets to change her hairstyle as a treat.

skyla:

it wasn't common for women to wear waistcoats at the time (1900s), but sapphics in history quite famously fucked with a lot of gender norms.

actually both of these lovebirds are blue now. sets up a colour contrast between the lighter, friendlier blues of the couple and the darkness and reds of the phantom. (blue = friend and red = foe like it's fire emblem)

the way swanna is placed is intentional, to set up a more angelic imagery mirroring the phantom's darker version (more on that in a bit).

both women wear matching white roses in their hair. something something flower symbolism. but skyla does also have feathers in her hair, for obvious reasons.

swoobat because hearts :D

ingo:

was debating on whether to make him actually more deformed in this au, but didn't really feel in the mood to sit down and design it in detail for this piece.

there isn't much i can say about his outfit design given it's literally just mashing his usual uniform together with his butler alt from masters. though upon actually looking up the phantom's outfit, the end result is actually surprisingly close. not surprising given both wear victorian suits and primarily wear black.

my original concept for the au was that he still works with the subway, he just does it from the shadows instead of being a public figure - hence he still wears a train conductor's hat. though since the battle subway isn't a thing (or at least not in the form we know it) he doesn't have its logo.

his cloak is intentionally flared up in this scene, for a few reasons: 1) it looks cool, 2) it resembles gliscor (albeit it isn't present here) and 3) mirrors skyla with a darker angelic imagery - the original musical had the whole "angel of music / death" thing.

i actually went through quite a few variations of his mask before settling on this one, and even then i'm not entirely satisfied with it.

version 1: exactly the same as the one used in most advertising for the musical - decently terrifying, but considering ingo's main 'issue' is his mouth, which this (and the one actually used within the musical) doesn't cover, this would be completely useless aside from probably hiding his identity and especially his resemblance to emmet.

version 2: leaned more into the angle of trying to alter his expression, particularly to be smiling instead - to be more similar to his brother. also suitably unsettling, but this specific style wouldn't work if you looked at him from any angle besides this one though. also, from this angle, because his actual mouth is obscured, i was worried he would actually be mistaken for emmet instead (given generally fandom tends to make emmet the unhinged one - let ingo have some fun too, guys).

version 3, the one i went with: has patterns at the cheeks simulating the edges of a smile (and also has the black-on-white contrast); his actual mouth is hidden but visible through the cloth.

why is there a litwick on the gravestone? good question!

in all honesty, this was part me drawing blorbos into an au and part me conceptualising what the pokémon universe version of POTO would look like.

[fuxuannie]

↳ pairing : jing yuan x gender neutral reader

↳ synopsis : memories lost, memories found ( part 2 !! )

↳ authors note : i'm very sorry if this doesn't fit anyones expectations or standards, as i dont really like this myself :( i might take a short tiny break, mostly to get my rhythm back! thank yaurrr <3

There's a small crowd that surrounds the Cloudford area, whispers and chatters coming from bystanders and even a few Cloud Knights. All step out of the way when JING YUAN walks through, but their stares spark an uneasy feeling in him. What could be causing such a stir between the people?

Once he makes it to the front, there's a sight of what seems to be a person just about his age wearing parts and pieces of different Cloud Knight armor and clothing. "Let me go!" The muffled voice yells due to their headpiece.

Jing Yuan kneels down in front of them, grabbing them by the chin and making them look at him. Though he couldn't see their face, the slight startle in their body language was as clear as day. "Stop..!-" They beg, trying to pull away but the grip around their wrist makes it impossible to move.

They attempt to move their head away, but the slow slip of their mask makes them panic further. Once it fully falls, Jing Yuan's eyes widen as he takes a moment to absorb their features. Your features. The fear in your expression causes him to stumble, dropping the mask as he realizes exactly who you are. "(name?)" He'll say as soft as a whisper, about to reach his hand out for your cheek but the adrenaline and fear gives you enough strength to give one strong tug and free yourself.

"Wait!-" He'll yell, but you ignore his pleas and turn your back. Running as fast as your feet can take you, and he has no idea what comes over him, but he picks himself up and chase after you. He thought he lost you, that he'd never see you again, so he's not about to lose you when you're right there.

You disappear somewhere in an area surrounded by crates, but something, an odd sixth sense was telling him that you were there somewhere. A sense that he once failed to listen to, on the day he lost you, and he was not about to make that same mistake. "(name).." Jing Yuan's footsteps grow closer, and you use one hand to muffle your sobs as you hid in one of the containers

You watch as he steps inside, looking down at you as you refused to meet his gaze. Burying your head into your knees as you sniffle. "I-"

"I know what you're going to say." You began, lifting your head up slightly but not quite enough to look at him. Not after all those years you had left him alone to suffer. "Why didn't I come back? Why did I leave you to be alone?" You say with a growing frustration in your tone, not at him, but to yourself. As if what you're saying was directed at you, at what you did in the past. "W-well.. I didn't know what to do, okay? Everyone thought I was dead, or even Mara-struck. I was afraid of returning at the idea that many would think that I am a monster, I certainly looked the part after the incident.. B-but look at you! You're.. the General, just like we knew you would be! And.. you've been good without me. I knew you would be okay even when I'm not around, and maybe I could be wrong but.. Y-you're better than ever, aren't you?"

You can feel his hand make its way to the top of your head, and as you spoke, it would slowly travel downwards to the side of your head and he finally pauses at your cheek. "Stop with your silence, idiot! I don't want your pity, nor your forgiveness, just.. say something!"

He slowly lifts your head, to reveal the gentleness of his soul that mirrored through his eyes. The way he opens his lips but no words come out makes you feel like the world has gone quiet, as if the world itself held its breath and was waiting for his answer.

"When I closed my eyes, your blurred face was all I would see. So now that I'm here, your face in my hands, despite my eyes wide open.. I'm just hoping you don't disappear when I let go."

A shaky breath escapes your lips, inhaling as it turns into a breathless laugh. Tears forming in your eyes as you pull him into a tight hug, blubbering nonsense that were intended to be words. You had so much to say, so much to do, yet all you wanted was this moment to last forever. Being in the arms of the person you missed the most.

And on Jing Yuan's end, it all feels like a dream. Your arms wrapped around his chest, your tears staining his shoulder and the way your racing heartbeat was pressed against his own. A heart to heart, one could say, but he can't process that this is all real. You're real, and you're right here.

"Please don't go." He breathes out, one hand around your waist, the other the top of your head to pull you closer and practically burying you into his shoulder. "I'd never dream of it, never again. Don't lose me again."

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[babyangelsky]

How much is hallucination and how much is real?

I almost touched on this in my post where I posit that Non is the killer but I didn't wanna go off on a tangent and make that post even longer than it ended up being.

Now that it has been canonically and explicitly established that what's scaring these boys isn't something supernatural, I wanted to go through and determine how much of what they see/hear is them hallucinating and how much could potentially be real.

Spoiler: it's not as cut and dry as you'd think.

Jin hears chanting when he's up on the balcony with Phi that Phi does not hear. I feel confident saying this is just an auditory hallucination.

The next two people to have hallucinations are Tee and Top when they're riding through the woods to get help for Por.

Tee sees a figure wielding what looks like an axe.

And Top sees the now infamous figure on crutches.

Once again, I'm fairly confident that what Tee saw was a hallucination but with Top, I'm not sure. And this is where it starts getting harder to draw a line between hallucination and reality.

We see the figure on crutches a second time when Top is in the bathroom. He starts having his hallucination and a candle beside the sink falls off the counter and shatters, spreading broken glass all over the floor.

But, when Tee and the boys break into the bathroom a short while later?

There's no broken glass on the floor. However, note that there also isn't a candle beside the sink anymore. There's three options here. One, it's just a continuity error. Two, there never was a candle beside the sink. Three, the candle on the sink was part of the hallucination, as was it falling and shattering.

Line's getting blurred isn't it? Stay with me here, because the sequence of these next three events is important.

In the first of these events, White is in the bathroom doing his skincare routine and hallucinates plague on his skin.

At the same moment, he looks into the mirror and sees a masked figure reflected in the mirror behind him.

He turns to look out the window and the figure is gone. Then he turns back to the mirror and the plague is gone, so we know the plague was definitely a hallucination.

In the second event, Fluke is with Por and the door behind the couch opens.

He gets up to close it and when he turns back to the couch, he sees Por with blood pouring out of his eyes and hallucinates that Por strangles him.

While he's being "strangled" we see the masked figure standing behind the couch.

It's unclear if Fluke saw the figure since his eyes were squinting and started to close as he struggled with Por. Regardless, we know for a fact that the strangling was a hallucination.

In the third event, which happens in the very next scene, we see New searching for the hard drive.

And this is where I thank @respectthepetty for reminding me they watch shows on mute and inadvertently sending me down this rabbit hole because at the very moment I captured in the screenshot above, New has an auditory hallucination.

He hears chanting and screaming just like Jin did on the balcony and as this hallucination is happening?

A masked figure walks past the stairs. These two things happen almost simultaneously so it's very hard to tell whether New looked up from the box he was searching because of the chanting or because he caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

And again, we know it was an auditory hallucination because when he rejoins the group, he asks this:

These three events happening one after the other--the figure White saw, the figure just inside the door while Fluke was being strangled, and the figure walking past the stairs--lead me to believe that the figure was not a hallucination.

I think Non (or whoever) was skulking around outside, was seen by White, and then made his way around to where Fluke was. He opened the door and when he realized Fluke was hallucinating, he slipped inside the house and he was seen by New.

The plague, the strangling, and the chanting were hallucinations, but they happened to coincide with a masked figure actually entering the house.

There are two more instances which I am fairly certain are NOT hallucinations.

After Uncle Dang gets decapitated by the wire and Tee and Top take his bike, Tee sees a masked figure in the woods. (Also worth noting that this time, they ride off in the opposite direction because of the wire, away from potential escape)

I couldn't quite manage to capture it on the exact frame, but the figure isn't just there when the camera pans to it. They were crouched in the bushes and popped up when they saw the boys coming.

My confidence is shakier on the second instance, which is also the last time we see a masked figure before shit goes down at the temple.

When New and Top are riding through the woods, Top sees a figure wielding an axe and throwing it at them.

Although the figure is already there when the camera pans to it this time, Top sees it before it raises the axe to throw it.

Although we can't quite tell how far away the figure was from the spot where the bike fell over, we don't see it on the ground. We also don't see it later when the boys come to investigate where Top went. All we know is that there is an axe, because Top (or Non) attacks the boys with it when they're in the temple.

The only other hallucination of note after this point is Jin seeing bloody Keng in the temple but I do feel confident saying that one wasn't real, especially since he sees bloody Keng again when Phi gives him the spiked water.

If you made it this far, thank you, I love you. I know this was very long but the curiosity simply would not leave me alone. As soon as drugs were put on the table, I just had to know if all the hallucinations were real and as it turns out, it's a very mixed bag.

I hope you don't mind me tagging you for the second time in one day @slayerkitty 💜