#so some shuffling around and rearranging happened

[charmfamily]

(SEMI) CHARMED KIND OF LIFE: EPISODE 3, PART XIX. “GENESIS IN BLACK”

[pin-k-ink]

ohmygodohmygod i absolutely LOVED your kuroo fic!!!

and i’ve an idea for another one if you wanna write it. how about kuroo with a really clumsy classmate of his, and they both inevitably end up in really awkward and borderline sexual situations because of it? kinda like a crack fic

convenient // kuroo tetsuro

tw ⇢ clumsy!reader, highly suggestive content, mild sexual tension, fluff, sexual jokes, kuroo is kind of a perv

wc ⇢ 5.1k

a/n: this was heavily inspired by prison school for some reason (yes i watched it 💀)

The first time it happened, it really was just an honest mistake - one that earned Kuroo Tetsuro a well-deserved slap across the face. In his defense, he had been utterly oblivious, mind preoccupied with an upcoming English exam. But that was still no excuse for his careless actions.

He was headed to the library, books and notes tucked under one arm, when a faint shuffling sound drew his gaze upwards. There you were, standing atop a narrow ladder while stretching to reach a book on the upper shelves. Your skirt rode dangerously high with the effort, teetering just shy of outright indecency.

Kuroo felt his eyes widen as he froze mid-step, suddenly hyper-aware of the sleek lines of your legs extending from the rumpled plaid hem. He knew he should look away, avert his stare like any decent guy. But something insidious seemed to glue his feet to the floor, leaving him gawking shamelessly.

That's when disaster struck - literally.

One minute you were straining on tiptoe, back arched enticingly as you strained for your target book. The next, your knee brushed the ladder rung with a faint clang of disturbance. Like a switched had been flipped, the whole structure began wavering treacherously beneath your weight.

You let out a strangled yelp of surprise, arms wheeling wildly in a frantic bid to regain your balance. But it was too late, your slight figure already pitching backwards in a clumsy free-fall towards the unforgiving floor.

Pure instinct propelled Kuroo into action at that moment. Letting his books and papers scatter, he lunged forward with the lightning reflexes of a seasoned athlete. His arms locked around your trim waist just as your feet left the ladder rungs entirely, effectively folding you in half to break your plummet.

You collapsed against his chest in a breathless heap, wavy tresses askew and skirt bundled scandalously around your hips from the abrupt tumble. Kuroo's throat went dry as he found himself confronted with an utterly unobstructed view of your lacy black panties, tight across the supple flesh of your ass and leaving precious little to the imagination.

A tremor rocked his muscles before Kuroo could fully process the provocative situation. His lips parted on a low, strangled sound - was that a whistle or a whimper? - while you stirred groggily in his arms.

That's when realization finally dawned in your wide eyes. You took one look at the flustered volleyball captain gaping down at you and the disheveled state of your uniform, and let out an earsplitting yelp of mortification.

"You...you pervert!"

The resounding crack of your palm across Kuroo's cheek rang out like a gunshot. He reeled back, stunned, as you leapt from his arms and frantically rearranged your rumpled skirt. With a last scandalized glare, you scooped up your books and scurried away down the hall, leaving a flabbergasted Kuroo cradling his stinging jaw.

As he stooped to collect his scattered belongings, the dark-haired captain could only shake his head ruefully, pointedly ignoring the snickers of passing students. He supposed he deserved that one.

Though admittedly, politely keeping his eyes averted would be a monumental challenge going forward if you insisted on being so...distracting around him.

Little did Kuroo know, that was only the beginning of many chaotic encounters with you to come.

After that mortifying library incident, Kuroo thought he would at least get a brief respite from any further awkward run-ins with you. He figured you'd be actively avoiding him out of lingering embarrassment for the foreseeable future. The captain wasn't quite sure whether to feel relieved or oddly disappointed by that prospect.

However, fate seemed to have other plans entirely when it came to tormenting Kuroo with suggestive happenstance around you. If anything, the unlucky encounters only escalated from that point onwards.

It happened again only a few days later. Kuroo was making his way to afternoon English practice after lessons when a commotion from a nearby classroom gave him pause. He distinctly heard a muffled yelp of surprise followed by a clatter like someone knocking into a desk.

Curiosity piqued, he backtracked and peered through the open door to find you in the midst of a graceless struggle. From his vantage point, it looked like you'd caught your knee on a protruding desk lip in the middle of gathering your belongings, upending everything to the floor.

"Need some help?" The words slipped out before Kuroo could reconsider.

You jolted at the sound of his voice, clearly not expecting company. Whipping around revealed your position - bent over at the waist, arms crossed over the desktop as you'd been trying in vain to catch your spilled notebooks and papers before they scattered.

Kuroo felt his throat go instantly dry at the view you presented. With your torso tilted parallel to the ground, he had an unobstructed line of sight directly down the stretched vee of your blouse to the lacy enclosure of your bra. He immediately averted his stare with a sharp inhalation, but the wiggling shift of your body as you tried to right yourself didn't do him any favors.

"O-Oh, hey Kuroo!" You squeaked out, voice pitched just a bit too high as you straightened hastily. You seemed to belatedly realize the disheveled state of your clothes and ran flustered hands over your rioting skirt. "No, I'm okay! Just a bit of a tussle with gravity, as usual."

You laughed in that slightly too high, breathless cadence that told Kuroo you were just as aware of the precarious display as he'd been. Still, he appreciated your nonchalant attempt to smooth over the awkwardness as you bent to collect the remainder of your fallen supplies.

"You sure?" He risked another glance, disappointed satisfied to find your skirt had returned to normal propriety if still slightly rumpled. "I can grab the janitor if you need any cleaning supplies or anything..."

"No, no! Really, I'm fine. But uh, thanks for the offer." You gave a tight smile, clutching your armful of books to your chest.

Kuroo nodded slowly, unable to resist one last sweeping look over your flustered appearance - wild hair askew, cheeks dusted with pink, chest still rising and falling a bit rapidly. Yep...you were still cute as hell, even after catching him gawking like a perverted creep twice now.

"Don't mention it. Just figured I'd lend a hand after providing such quality-eye entertainment lately." He tossed you a wink, mouth kicking up at the corner as your blush deepened.

"You're terrible," you groaned, rolling your eyes dramatically. But he could've sworn your lips twitched towards a smile as you spun on your heel and strutted from the classroom with as much dignity as you could muster.

Kuroo watched your departing form fondly, scratching at the nape of his neck. "That's me," he agreed under his breath, unable to resist one last admiring glance towards the sway of your hips.

Yes, he would definitely have to be more careful about where he let his gaze stray going forward. Especially if you insisted on continually providing such tantalizing...viewing opportunities for him.

The empty classroom should have been a safe haven for you to gather your thoughts during your free period. With no other students around, you had seized the opportunity to get some fresh air by cracking open one of the large windows overlooking the courtyard.

In retrospect, leaning your entire upper body out of that window may have been ill-advised.

You had been so absorbed in the tranquil view outside, relishing the crisp breeze skating across your face, that you failed to notice your skirt catching and riding up precariously on the window's edge behind you. By the time you registered the precarious situation, it was already too late.

"What the...?" You frowned, twisting your torso in an attempt to dislodge yourself.

But the more you struggled, the more hopelessly ensnared you became - skirt now thoroughly rumpled and bunched around your hips, leaving your backside shockingly exposed to the empty classroom behind you in a way that would make any vice principal blush.

You squeezed your eyes shut, cheeks burning as you tried in vain to somehow wrangle the stubborn fabric free without outright removing the entire garment and mooning the entire courtyard below. If only you had a personal contortionist on hand...

The telltale creak of the door opening behind you nearly made you swallow your tongue.

"Hey, have you seen my--" The deep timbre of Kuroo's unmistakable voice faltered. "Oh. Uh...need a hand?"

You could practically hear the poorly suppressed grin in his tone without even turning around - not that you could move much in your current trapped position. Your mortification mounted by the second, shoulders ticking up towards your burning ears.

"Don't just stand there!" You hissed through gritted teeth, face on proverbial fire. "Get over here and help me already!"

"I don't know, you seem to have a pretty good view as is," Kuroo drawled, bitter amusement coating every syllaible. But you heard his footsteps start to cross the classroom regardless.

"Don't you dare look, or so help me--"

"I'm just here to provide whatever assistance a gentleman can for a stuck damsel," he interjected solemnly, though you could still hear the laughter staining his tone.

Another teasing brush of warm fingertips skating up your exposed thigh made you suck in a sharp breath, muscles taut. But then Kuroo was deftly tugging at the tangled fabric, trying to work it free from where it had fully wedged against the unforgiving metal window frame.

You squeezed your eyes shut tighter as he crouched behind you, hot puffs of his steady breathing ghosting along the back of your bare thighs. The tips of his nails occasionally scraped lightly against your sensitized skin whenever he shifted his grip for better leverage.

Each inadvertent caress sent tingles of heat blossoming across your body, completely at odds with the unrelenting chill of the open window pressed against your ribs. You worried your lower lip between your teeth, trying to stomp down the unwelcome flutters plaguing your gut and attribute them solely to your mortifying predicament.

"Almost there," Kuroo grunted, leaning in so close you could smell the crisp, clean scent of his laundry detergent and body wash. "Just need to...tug this bit..."

"Wait, no--!"

Your panicked warning was too late. With a sharp yank on the stubborn fabric, both of you inadvertently went tumbling backwards in a graceless heap - your skirt ripping free only for the rest of you to promptly crash down squarely on Kuroo's unsuspecting face.

You couldn't quite muffle the startled yelp that rattled up from your chest as you landed in a sprawl of flailing limbs. One blink and suddenly you found yourself pitched backwards, legs splayed shamelessly as your butt settled...right on top of Kuroo's stunned features, mashing against his mouth and nose.

The smothered grunt of surprise punched out from under you was enough to send you flailing away with a choked shriek of mortification, scuttling across the floor like a deranged crab. Your face felt like it was legitimately searing clean off your skull, a condition likely mirrored by Kuroo's own rapidly purpling complexion.

"Ohmygod, Kuroo!" You wheezed out, one trembling hand lifting reflexively to cover your gaping mouth as he finally levered upright. "I am so, sosorry! Are you okay? Please, please tell me you can breathe!"

The captain dragged in a harsh gulp of air, chest heaving, before slowly lifting his burning gaze to your stricken one. Despite the deep flush marring his features, Kuroo's eyes glittered suspiciously.

"Well..." he rasped out with a lopsided, infinitely amused smirk. "Can't say I was expecting that kind of face-sitting from you today, but I can't really complain about the view..."

You released a mortified squawk, yanking the hem of your skirt down with furious tugs. There was no way this wasn't some fresh new hell custom designed by the vindictive heavens just to torment your battered pride around Kuroo Tetsuro.

Honestly, at this rate, you wouldn't be surprised if the boy ended up permanently bowlegged with how many compromising visuals you'd inadvertently provided him.

Kuroo sucked in a deep, steadying breath as he watched you scurry from the classroom, skirt mercifully back in place and face still blazing crimson. He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, desperately trying to un-see the compromising visuals now seared into his brain.

There was simply no unseeing the full, unobstructed view he'd gotten of your lace-edged panties and plump backside when you'd so brazenly...well, sat on his face in your wild scramble. His cheeks flushed anew just recalling it - the softness and warmth pressed against his lips, the sweet floral scent overwhelming his senses.

He shouldn't be thinking those kinds of things about you. Kuroo was keenly aware you were just his animated, disaster-prone classmate who always seemed to catch the brunt of humiliating mishaps whenever he was around. Lingering too long on the intimate peeks he'd been granted felt like a violation of the unspoken boundaries between you two.

And yet...

Kuroo found his tongue instinctively swiping across his lower lip, unconsciously chasing some lingering remnant of your taste and scent. The memory of having your feminine curves crushed against his face, even if unintentionally, made his throat run dry with unexpected yearning. He couldn't deny the spark of illicit heat that quickly blazed low in his belly.

With a groan, Kuroo scrubbed both hands through his perpetually tousled hair, tugging at the roots in mild self-admonishment. These were dangerous thoughts to entertain, no matter how attractive and alluring you were as a person. Especially given how mortified you always seemed by the accidental incidents that kept transpiring.

You clearly weren't trying to tease or torment him on purpose. If anything, you seemed just as eager to flee from the awkward tension as he was to diffuse it with irreverent jokes or nonchalant shrugs. No, the burden was his alone to bear - this one-sided battle to wrangle his steadily growing interest every time your bodies collided in such intimate, pulse-spiking ways.

Decision made, Kuroo rose to his feet with a grunt, gathering his scattered belongings. Blowing out a harsh breath, he willed away the lingering flashes of tempting visuals and straightened his spine. Yes, from now on he would simply have to be more vigilant about avoiding you as much as possible. The less he let himself get pulled into these compromising, hormone-addling situations, the better his self-control would remain intact.

It was a sound strategy, he decided with a decisive nod. One that would hopefully spare you both from any further prolonged torment or humiliation down the line.

At least, that was the theory. But as Kuroo quickly learned over the next few days and encounters, the universe seemed to have vastly different plans in regard to continually tormenting him...and you.

It happened during one of their last shared classes of the week - a study hall period Kuroo typically used for reviewing game recordings or getting a jumpstart on his homework. He had just opened up his laptop in the back corner of the room to cue up the latest match footage when an odd scuffling noise drew his attention.

Craning his neck towards the broad windows lining the far wall revealed you standing precariously on your tiptoes atop a wobbly chair, arms stretched high overhead as you attempted to tug open the painted seam where the glass panes met. Kuroo frowned as he watched your feet slip and clothes rustle with the effort. Just what were you doing?

Another loud thud followed by a growl of frustration was all the prompting he needed. With a quiet sigh, Kuroo pushed back from his seat and began weaving between the desks, hands tucked casually into his pockets. Might as well get this over with before your usual antics ended in another cringe-worthy incident for them both...

"Need a hand down there, short stuff?" He called out in a low, lazy drawl as he approached.

You startled at the unexpected voice, petite form going rigid against the window. Kuroo watched your shoulders lift in a sharp inhalation before you slowly risked peering over one toned shoulder, likely looking for the source of the amused rumble.

"Kuroo?" You squeaked out warily, like just speaking his name might somehow summon a fresh round of mortifying events. "What are you doing over here?"

"Probably the same thing you are," he replied with a one-shouldered shrug, gesturing up at the window with his chin. "Except, you know, without the hazardous chair-scaling routine. Don't you think it'd be easier if you just asked for help rather than risking life and limb like that?"

If looks could incinerate, he surely would have combusted on the spot from the narrow-eyed glare you shot his way. But after a long, weighted pause, you finally seemed to relent with a quiet huff.

"Fine, but you'd better not just be offering as some lame excuse to look up my skirt again."

The blunt dig might have landed more soundly if your cheeks weren't already pinkening, giving away your embarrassment. Kuroo simply arched one thick brow, catching his lower lip between his teeth to tamp down the reflexive grin trying to emerge.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Kuroo replied easily, holding up both hands in mock surrender. "I'm an innocent bystander here, just trying to lend my services to a damsel flirting with danger."

You leveled him with one final skeptical look before huffing out a reluctant, "Fine. But make it quick before I end up with a concussion or something."

Turning away, you resumed straining on tiptoe, arms outstretched overhead as you blindly grappled for some elusive purchase. Kuroo's gaze was immediately drawn to the wanton stretching pulling your blouse taut against the feminine swell of your chest, outlining your figure in a way that made his mouth go dry.

Clearing his throat roughly, he quickly closed the remaining distance between you and maneuvered himself up onto the chair behind you. His larger frame automatically shielded your bent posture as he reached up past your extended arms to easily unlatch the window's stubborn latch.

The rush of cool evening air that filtered in carried the scent of freshly mown grass and distant woodsmoke, ruffling the loose strands framing your face. You let out a breathless little giggle, grinning over your shoulder up at Kuroo with unguarded delight crinkling your features.

"See? That wasn't so hard, was it?" You teased lightly. "I knew your freakish height would come in handy someday."

Kuroo felt his lips twitch towards a matching smile despite himself. There was just something wildly endearing about the way your nose scrunched when you laughed like that, uninhibited and suffused with mirth. He suddenly found himself in the odd position of fighting off a powerful wave of affection swelling in his chest.

Which is precisely when you chose to twist around fully on the chair, effectively trapping Kuroo between your parted thighs with nowhere to go as you beamed up at him. His breath stuttered in his throat, smile slipping as his abdomen lined up dangerously close to your lower body's soft warmth.

"Thanks for always being around to help me out, by the way," you continued blithely, seemingly unaware of the sudden charged tension. "I really would be a walking hazard without you."

Your words trailed off into another peal of laughter, palms sliding smoothly up Kuroo's chest until they bracketed his shoulders. He could feel the delicate pressure of your fingertips like searing brands through the thin material of his shirt as your gazes locked mere inches apart.

Inside his head, Kuroo's thoughts had devolved into a deafening roar of white noise, every higher brain function shorting out at the proximity of your body heat and sweet, floral scent. All he could focus on was the painted bow of your parted lips, the inviting dip of your collarbones on display beneath your rumpled shirt collar. The burning urge to tilt his head down and taste your smile, to growl and tug you flush against his body, made his fingers twitch convulsively at his sides.

Don't...don't do something stupid and reckless that you'll regret, his voice of reason feebly protested even as your hands slid upwards to cup his jaw with unexpected tenderness. You were so close now that your noses brushed, breath mingling in a humid cloud between your suspended states. Kuroo's heart felt lodged in his throat, pounding staccato against his ribs.

Your thumbs drifted in unconscious, idle strokes along the sharp line of his cheekbones, mesmerizing him further second by second. Instinctively, he bent towards your addictive pull before managing to firmly re-root himself with the last scraps of logic screaming at him to stop.

"That's enough...personal space for today, yeah?" He somehow wrangled enough control to whisper out, the words emerging gritty and strained but underscored with determination. "Why don't we, uh, get you down from there before round two starts sounding fun?"

You blinked rapidly at that, almost as though snapping back to yourself. For a heartbeat, Kuroo could've sworn he glimpsed something like disappointment flickering in your eyes' depths. But then you were nodding brusquely, pulling your hands away to twist back towards the now open window.

The cold rush of oxygen hitting his lungs made Kuroo almost dizzy with a sense of vertigo, like he'd been holding his breath for an eternity underwater. What the hell had just happened? And more alarmingly...why was a part of him wishing it hadn't stopped?

He shook his head to clear the loaded thoughts before resignedly offering you his hands, acting as a brace while you stepped down from the chair. Your fingers curled around his in a warm, tingling grip as you maneuvered yourself to the floor, back deliberately angled away from Kuroo to avert any further...viewing opportunities.

The moment your feet touched down, the odd tension frayed, allowing you both to sink back into familiar patterns and put some merciful distance between your bodies once more.

"Thanks again, Kuroo," you said with a demure smile over one shoulder, brushing past him towards the exit. "See you around sometime soon, I'm sure."

The parting words carried a strange, wistful lilt, warranting another glance from Kuroo's hooded gaze. You didn't linger, simply ambling away from the classroom as effortlessly as you'd arrived, leaving a bewildered captain in your wake.

Kuroo glowered at your retreating back even as something sharp and insistent tugged in his chest at the sight. Whatever this maddening back-and-forth dynamic was between you two, it was rapidly spiraling into something wild and untamed, something that was getting harder and harder to ignore or dismiss...

A growl of mingled frustration rumbled up from the back of his throat before he could stifle it. So much for avoiding temptation and keeping his resolve intact around you. Every time he tried to disengage, the universe seemed to drag you both screaming right back into each other's gravitic pull once more.

Movements taut with consternation, Kuroo sank back into his abandoned desk chair and scrubbed both hands along his face. He couldn't keep doing this endless dance around you, careening between flirtatious banter and breathless disaster without snapping entirely. Something had to give soon before one of you combusted outright.

His palms dug into his eye sockets as a growl rumbled up from somewhere deep in his gut. Yeah...no one ever said being a horny teenage disaster was easy, did they?

The next mishap occurred barely a week later, this time at one of Nekoma's volleyball practices. You had developed a habit of swinging by the gym to catch portions of the team's training sessions whenever your schedule allowed. Kuroo suspected it was equal parts keeping tabs on him and cheering on a couple of your other classmates in the club.

Whatever the reason, he certainly wasn't complaining about the prospect of you watching him glistening with sweat, muscles straining as he launched himself into blistering spikes and ferocious blocks. Even if he adamantly refused to let his gaze linger overlong on your distracting presence courtside.

On this particular evening, the squad was running spike drills, taking turns performing powerful straight-shot hits off the tossed sets. As captain, Kuroo was overseeing the rotations, calling out adjustments and keeping the tempo sharp.

You were perched on the bottom bleacher row, eyes tracking each impactful exchange while gnawing absentmindedly on your thumbnail. Kuroo couldn't resist a few sidelong admiring glances as each powerful leap and arcing jump serve pulled the fabric of his athletic shorts taut against his tensing thighs.

When his turn in the rotation came up again, he was waiting squarely in position, knees bent in preparation to launch upwards and meet the tossed ball. The second coach Naoi’s fingers left the leather, Kuroo exploded off the hardwood into his ferocious spike approach.

Except a sudden shuffling noise off to his left periphery made him falter, just a split-second of lost focus as he whipped his head towards the disturbance. Just in time to see you had risen to your feet and were now bent over at the waist, gripping the railing as you shimmied and shook your hips in some strange calisthenics-esque motion.

Kuroo choked on his own inhale as he inadvertently tracked the mesmerizing movements, torn between drinking in the wanton swish of your skirt tails and avoiding a deadly incoming projectile straight to his face. His abort in midair was clumsy, causing him to land wrong and crumple gracelessly to the varnished court in an undignified sprawl.

"Oof!"

A chorus of snickers rose from his teammates as the commotion made the remaining players pause their drills. Kuroo lay there stunned for a beat, cheeks flushed, before slowly craning his neck to relocate the source of his fall.

You were still bent over the railing, fortunately oblivious to your wardrobe's indecent riding up from the hip shimmies. But you had turned towards the court fully with one hand clutched to your mouth, stifling what Kuroo belatedly recognized as peals of laughter.

"Nice form there, Captain," Yaku called out with a barking laugh.

Kuroo shot the smirking player a dirty look as he levered himself upright, grimacing at the dull throb in his elbow and side from the impromptu meeting with the floor. When he chanced another glance towards the bleachers, you seemed to have gotten your giggling under control but your eyes were still alight with barely restrained mirth.

"Did you just...belly flop during a drill?" You managed to ask between lingering huffs of hilarity.

"I got distracted," Kuroo grumbled, swiping his wrist across his sweaty brow as he straightened to his full height.

Your giggles ramped back up, louder and utterly uninhibited by the audience of players now freely gawking between you two. Kuroo felt a muscle in his jaw tick with repressed...something. Embarrassment, arousal, or some heady combination thereof.

On impulse, he started stalking towards where you were doubled over the railing, each thump of his shoes against the glossy court unnaturally loud. You glanced up just as his shadow fell over you, giggles sputtering off into silence as you registered the abrupt proximity.

Kuroo halted a scant few inches away, towering over you with his lips pressed into a tight line and hair hanging shaggily in his face. Your own pupils blew wider in response to his sudden looming, cheeks flushed and lips still parted mid-laughter.

Without giving his reckless impulse another second to dissipate, Kuroo bent abruptly at the waist, eliminating the final bare slivers of distance between you. His mouth slanted over yours in a heated, insistent press before you could so much as draw a shocked breath.

For one wild, dizzying heartbeat, the entire world collapsed inwards to the shocking velvet glide of his lips coaxing yours into sliding open. The taste of you exploded across his senses, sweet and addictive like warm honey, making Kuroo's head spin.

Then just as abruptly as he lunged in, he broke away, straightening up with a ragged inhale as if surfacing from underwater. Your face was frozen in an expression of pure, open-mouthed shock, the most delicious shade of crimson blooming in your cheeks as you stared up at him with wide, unfocused eyes.

Kuroo licked his tingling lips, tasting the lingering tang of you there. He didn't dare inch closer and risk shattering the suspended tension. Instead, he simply held your stunned, searching gaze with heavy-lidded certainty.

The sudden spirited whooping and raucous catcalls from his oblivious teammates barely penetrated the electric charge now crackling between your locked stares. Kuroo arched one brow slowly, the ghost of a smirk curling the corners of his mouth.

"We'll call it even for now," was all he said, pitching his voice to be heard only by you.

With that parting remark, he spun on his heel and rejoined the still-chortling huddle of players like a man exiting the eye of the storm. But even with his back turned, he could sense the weight of your speechless, burning stare piercing between his shoulderblades.

A shiver traced his spine, raising the fine hairs along his nape. Oh yes, there would be more fallout and confrontation to come over that impulse. Kuroo could practically taste the promise of it lingering on his tongue.

And when the explosion inevitably came...he suddenly couldn't wait.

[rodolfoparras]

think about price who constantly refers to his lover as 'the wife' with lovesick eyes to 141

now imagine 141 loosing their SHIT on the inside when they first meet 'the wife' and she isn't some petite pretty little housewife like they imagined but instead a large ass man built like a fucking TANK and easily towers over Simon who is the tallest of the group. price still refers to him as 'the wife' with the dorkiest grin ever and 141 doesnt let him live it down, threatening him with telling 'the wife' whenever he doesnt let them do something stupid

(feral anon)

(i want to be 'the wife' so bad but sadly i am a short transmasc that doesn't look like a man at all)

(your posts cure my gender disphoria)

A/N: I loved this idea and I’ve been wanting to write a fluff piece for my old man so here u go, something very light hearted ! Excuse any mistakes I wrote it within an hour or so!

It’s no secret that Price likes to keep his private life and work life separated, not many people know he’s married and he likes to keep it that way.

However he has no qualms about 141 finding out about the person he loves so much, matter of fact Laswell was the first to know, all unplanned of course.

It all happened when the two of them snuck away from the rowdy group of men to smoke. Sitting inside would’ve been a better option. It was warm inside, they had decent lighting and were within hand’s distant to their drinks but that would also mean they were at risk of losing their hearing or getting elbowed in the stomach or face by the drunken men, so outside it is.

Price offers her his cigar, which she takes gracefully muttering something along the lines of “my wife doesn’t like it when I smoke” while taking a drag from the tobacco leaf.

“Neither does mine” he says with crows feet appearing around his eyes and lips curling up into a smile.

“You’re married?” Laswell says, only with a hint of surprise on her face as she hands the cigar back to him.

“Happily” he says smile still present as ever on his face before he takes a drag from the cigar as well “been that way for four years now”

She just nods in response before she takes the cigar back, and that’s pretty much how Laswell finds out about Price’s spouse.

The next person to find out about it is Gaz.

141 had been out on a mission that day, and Gaz had taken the impulsive decision to head straight into the fire in hopes of getting important intel. He’s managed to get it but not without getting scolded for his reckless behavior by Price. Hours later and the guilt is still eating at him so he decides to make his way over to Price’s office in an attempt to make amends with the older man.

Gaz takes a deep breath before he knocks on Price’s office door.

“Come on in” he hears the older man’s voice.

Gaz walks in only to be met with the sight of Price seated in his office chair, paper work scattered about on his desk and a cigar resting between his index and middle finger.

“Sir” Gaz says, awkwardly shuffling in place. “I’d like to apologize for earlier today”

“Already forgotten”

The surprise must’ve been clear on his face because the older man can’t help but chuckle.

“Sit down” Price says pointing at the chair opposite to him before taking another drag from the tobacco leaf.

Gaz swiftly takes a seat, hands resting on his knees, nervously chewing on his bottom lip.

There’s a moment of silence as Price rearranges the paper in a neat pile on his desk, pen carefully placed next to it before he speaks again.

“You got someone special waiting for you back home?”

Once again Gaz is surprised but this time the older man just looks at him and smiles.

“I do, sir”

“So do I” Price says smile getting bigger as he folds his arms across his chest and leans back in his chair. “Oh don’t look at me like that I’m not that old am I?”

“No - no sir” Gaz says, hands awkwardly flailing about and feeling his ears burn as he blurts out the words.

Price’s smile grows even bigger before he begins to explain “point is I’m sure that special someone wants you back home alive, if anything were to happen to me I’m sure the wife would find a way to haunt me in the after life”

Price’s gaze falls to his hands, fingers fidgeting with his wedding band.

Oh.

The wife.

The ring.

The captain is married.

“Sometimes we have to do things we rather not do to make sure we come back home to them, keep that in mind Garrick”

“Yes sir” Gaz says, mind still processing this new found information.

“Good, now if you excuse me I have someone to call,”

Gaz without thinking says “the wife?”

Price only chuckles but nods his head in confirmation “the wife”

Soap is the third person to find out and it happens while 141 are relaxing on base, playing cards and drinking beer.

Price walks in with black slacks and a white button, rolled all the way up to his elbows. On top of that there’s an invisible trail of cologne that seems to follow his form.

“Captain! Come join us” soap says not even looking up at the man but instead keeping laser focus on the cards in his hand.

“No can do boys I’m heading out with the wife”

Soap almost drops the cards in his hand, head turning so fast Price is surprised he doesn’t get whiplash. “You’re married?”

“I am” Price says trying to suppress his chuckle when he sees Gaz peaking at Soap’s cards. “You weren’t planning on proposing were you soldier?” Price jokes which sends the rest of the group into a fit of laughter.

Soap physically recoils at that, head turning back to his cards and muttering a “to you captain? No thanks”

“Alright then, I’m heading out” Price says, choosing to ignore soaps comments, as he pulls on his jacket“don’t wait up!”

As Price makes his way over to the front door, he hears the group continuing to tease soap, can even hear the Scotsman accuse Gaz of looking at his cards, but he quickly forgets about everything as he sees you parked outside and waiting for him.

Ghost was very well aware of Price’s spouse, had even been the first person to know that Price was planning to propose.

The two of them had been in an entirely different squad, and less familiar with each other when they got sent out on a mission. A lot of things went wrong that day so much so Ghost and Price weren’t sure if the both of them would get back home alive. So Price had taken the opportunity to tell him about this special someone, how he was planning to propose to this person when they were scheduled to go back home, had even forced a wedding band in the palm of Ghost’s hand and told him to give it to the person if Price doesn’t make it out alive.

Luckily the both of them had managed to get out alive and Ghost had gotten the opportunity to watch Price put the ring on this person’s hand.

With that being said Ghost should be able to recognize this person if they were to appear in front of him but it’s been years so when he hears someone asking where Price is he doesn’t think twice about telling them, chalking it up to some poor lost recruit looking for the captain, while keeping his eyes on the weapon he’s cleaning.

However he doesn’t get to do much more before he hears another voice.

“Who’s the guy?” says soap, confusion clear in his tone.

Ghost turns to the other man and the annoyance must’ve been clear in his eyes because Soap raises his hands in an apologetic manner. “Oh sorry did i interrupt something important “ he says with a smile on his face.

“Anyway a tall really tall dude maybe taller than the ghost?” He pauses as if contemplating before he continues to explain “was looking for Price, really buff too…” he trails off while glancing down at his arms “hey you think I should work out more?”

Ghost just sighs before he returns to cleaning his weapon but he’s once again interrupted when Gaz walks in.

“Captain wants to see us in his office”

And that’s when he fully gives up on the task as he follows the two other men over to Price’s office, grumbling over why the captain was calling them over while putting up with the chatter from the Scotsman telling Gaz all about the giant that just passed him.

It doesn’t take much before they find themselves in front of Price’s office.

Through the door they can hear Price’s voice along with a much deeper voice, holding a conversation.

Soap is the first to knock on the door, while sharing confused glances with the two other men.

“Come in”

The three men enter the room only to be met with the sight of Price standing behind his office chair where a man is sitting in it, both of them sporting equally bright smiles on their faces.

“Boys” Price says, face ever so proud as he looks down at the man “meet the wife”

The man stands up, tall just like Soap had described him and when he reaches a hand out they see a wedding band that matches the one on Price’s hand.

“I’m the wife” you say with a big smile on your face.

[flowerfan2]

Steve falls hard, is the thing.  At least, he does this time.  He knows it’s crazy, that Eddie has only been out of the hospital for a few weeks, that Steve has only really known him for a few days more than that. But he knows more than most people that life is full of cliffs and dangers and if there’s happiness to be had, he’s ready to take it.

It happens so quickly that he speeds right past any potential sexuality crisis, doesn’t pass go, just realizes one evening while he’s tucking a blanket around Eddie’s feet when he dozes off on the couch that he’s in love.   He knows it’s real, because Eddie’s feet are frankly stinky since it’s still hard for him to get around, and yet Steve’s content to curl up with Eddie’s feet in his lap and make sure they stay toasty warm.

He tells Robin that night, and once she’s finished swatting him with a nearby magazine and then hugging him until his ribs squeak, she asks him what he’s going to do about it.  “Tell him,” Steve answers, and Robin stares at him as if he’s grown two heads (he hasn’t, he checked).  “Just like that?” she asks, eyes wide.

“Know any good reason to wait?” Steve asks, and when Robin shakes her head no, he smiles.

The next day Steve puts on a clean pair of khakis and his favorite striped polo.  He ever so briefly considers wearing something not so preppy, but he doesn’t think Eddie would appreciate anything less than the truth.  The real Steve, polo shirts and all.  Begin as you mean to continue, and all that.

When he arrives at the trailer the next day (yes, that same goddamned trailer, flimsy and broken but in somewhat better shape than it was a few weeks ago), Steve takes a deep breath and knocks on the door, then remembers he’s supposed to use his key so that Eddie doesn’t have to get up off the couch too often.  He juggles the grocery bag in his arms and finds the key, glad to see when he gets the door open that Eddie hasn’t been disturbed.  In fact, it looks like he’s fast asleep.

Steve puts the groceries away and settles at the end of the couch like he always does, pulling Eddie’s feet onto his lap, and paging through a comic book.  A little while later Eddie stirs, blinking his eyes open and smiling at Steve.

They decide to watch a movie, but after a few minutes Eddie complains that his neck hurts from lying in the same position all day.  Steve helps him switch around so that his head is at the other end of the couch, and Eddie continues to gripe, but he’s smiling the whole time.  Steve can tell he likes the attention, likes when Steve slides an arm around his back and gently rearranges his limbs.  Steve likes it too.

Steve fetches some snacks from the kitchen and returns to find Eddie shuffling himself around again, claiming that the new position isn’t working either.  Soon they’re sitting next to each other, legs stretched out on a pillow on the coffee table, the television directly in front of them.  Steve is getting a suspicious feeling about the whole thing, and it only intensifies when Eddie gives a little sigh and rests his head on Steve’s shoulder.  “Thanks,” Eddie says softly.  “This is perfect.”

Steve’s not sure how much time goes by – time is weird when you’re practically holding your breath – but when he tilts his head to look at Eddie, Eddie’s looking right at him.  

“Eds?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m falling for you, you know.”

Eddie bites his lip and smiles, his nose crinkling adorably.  “Yeah, I figured.”  He turns back to the television and snuggles in closer against Steve’s side.  “It’s good, ‘cause, you know.  Me too.”

______

You can read all of my Steddie ficlets in one place on A03 here.

[slytherin-pen]

The Nesting Fox

After five years of being mated, you and Lucien are eagerly awaiting the arrival of your first litter. As you enter the seventh month of your pregnancy, Lucien returns home from his Emissary duties to find you meticulously rearranging the baby's room, consumed by the need to prepare the space for your growing family. Sensing your stress, Lucien takes it upon himself to ease your worries by drawing a warm bath for you and offering comforting words to soothe your nerves.

pairing: Lucien x Reader

word count: 3.7k

all ACOTAR related credit goes to SJM

warnings: none/ fluff vibes only 🤍

A/N: i had writer’s block for a bit so i missed Elucien week but i started this with the theme in mind last week 😭 anyways, i hope you enjoy fluffy future-dad Lucien

As the warm afternoon sun painted the cottage in a golden hue and gently streamed through the windows, you hustled about, checking off tasks from your never-ending to-do list. Your little kit wasn't due for another two months, but time seems to go too fast and too slow while pregnant. You know you have all the necessities and have their room prepared, but that doesn’t stop the nagging feeling that there’s still more to do, leaving you restless.

Your best friend Mor has been taking you shopping for baby items and garments to replace your weekly pre-pregnancy coffee dates, and despite your complaints about the extra laundry, you do love spending time with her, however it may be. With your family living in the Night Court and you being heavily pregnant in the Spring Court, it’s easy to feel lonely, but Mor winnows in and catches up with you as if you never left. Aside from her visits, you keep busy preparing for the baby’s arrival by repeatedly cleaning and shuffling things around until it's just right.

Today's list of tasks includes organizing the new clothes in the baby’s dresser, dusting—a task that seems pointless in the Spring Court—and baking snickerdoodle muffins because the baby wants snickerdoodle muffins.

Lucien has had to remind you numerous times to take it easy. He frequently comes home to find you doing something you are not supposed to and swiftly ushers you to a chair. Pregnancy has not been the kindest to you, but you haven’t let it slow you down yet. You wouldn’t be his relentlessly energetic mate if you just sat around doing something mundane like knitting.

Before discovering you were pregnant, you and Lucien spent your days outdoors or traveling across Prythian and the Continent. You were far from being a passive couple. Besides, the basket storing away the yarn and needles became riddled with dust ages ago. It was a lovely gift from a Lord in the Day Court after your wedding ceremony inside the palace, but the longest you’ve sat still was when your previous High Lord, Rhysand, let you hold his son Nyx during a casual meeting in the River House. Babysitting Nyx occasionally has helped ease some of your worries about becoming a mother. Still, your mind was in a constant war between being confident in your abilities and thinking the absolute worst would happen and you would fail at being a mother.

Lucien has been your unwavering support during the most challenging days, helping you combat negative thoughts. He reminds you to breathe and trust that both of you will be loving, nurturing parents. You don’t know if it’s just everyday prenatal stress or the hormones making you an anxious, compulsive mess, but Lucien has remained his kind, witty, and ever-attentive self. He always knows what you need, whether you are cleaning the house inside-out until your feet swell or crying and raging about being out of sugar, and now ‘the baby will be sad.’ He bites down his retort about the baby's inability to conceptualize anything about the situation every time. Instead, he holds you, massages your feet, and goes to the shops as soon as they open.

When you first found out you were pregnant, it was after a trip to the Summer Court with Lucien as his plus-one on an emissary trip. The two of you had dined on shrimp and pasta among Tarquin and his courtiers. After dinner, Lucien attended a private meeting with Tarquin, Cresseida, and Varian while you returned to your shared suite. As you bathed and got ready for bed, you noticed you felt nauseous but thought you must have overindulged during dinner. You had just opened your nightly read when the urge to vomit was too strong to swallow down. You ran to the toilet and heaved until there was nothing left. Afterward, you brushed your teeth and requested a servant bring you a cup of ginger tea. You didn’t initially tell Lucien for fear he would fuss over you instead of focusing on why you were in the Summer Court. You had hoped an ingredient just didn’t settle well with your stomach and you would feel better shortly.

The trip lasted for three days, and as per Summer Court, every dish contained seafood. After each meal, you found yourself in the nearest bathroom, throwing up what little you had eaten. Lucien became concerned, noticing that you would run off, but you assured him you were fine and that the spices were giving you an upset stomach. He gave you a skeptical look, not believing your excuse due to your frequent travels and exposure to various cuisines. Still, he accepted you were keeping your bathroom habits private, as any gentleman would.

When you touched down in the Spring Court, and Lucien ran off to meet with Tamlin, you found the nearest healer. Something was wrong. You loved seafood. Not every Summer Court dish is delicious, particularly the scallop omelet, but shrimp was one of your favorites, and you threw it up every time. The meals made you sick after you ate, and the smells began to nauseate you as soon as they appeared on the table.

You were shocked when the healer informed you nothing was wrong but that you were pregnant. Your mind became a torrent of different emotions: fear, excitement, hope, and more fear. You and Lucien had stopped taking contraceptive tonics years ago with the knowledge you could become pregnant, but something about it happening made you question everything. Were you ready for a baby? What if Lucien changed his mind and didn’t want children with you? Would you be a good mother? The internal turmoil had paralyzed you, rooting you to the ottoman before the fireplace. That’s how Lucien found you after he met with Tamlin, and he knelt by your side, asking you what was wrong. You hesitated initially, but Lucien whispered encouragement in your ear, and you eventually told him you were pregnant. His gold and russet eyes lit up joyfully and immediately soothed your worries. He assured you he still wanted children with you— lots of them, even–that you would be the best mother, and between his salary and both of your families, obtaining everything the baby would need would be no problem.

A few months into your pregnancy, you and Lucien went on ‘Tour De Baby,’ as he called it, celebrating the news with family and friends. The two of you attended a formal dinner with Tamlin, and Helion and Lady Autumn hosted a baby shower. Eris insisted on visiting him and the hounds so they could ‘learn the kit’s scent,’ and your family in the Inner Circle guided you and Lucien on a rare, non-alcoholic night out through Velaris. Seeing your families so excited to meet your little one made your heart swell with adoration and gratitude. Even if your family was spread across three courts, your baby has a formidable village of warriors and High Lords who loved them endlessly, and that was more than you could ever ask for.

The tantalizing scent of snickerdoodle muffins baking in the oven filled the cozy cottage as you set out to rearrange the baby's room. As you surveyed the room, you realized the crib was too close to the window. What if the moon's light wakes up the little one? You quickly decided to move it. Then, you noticed a framed picture precariously hanging above the changing table. You couldn't risk it falling and hurting the baby, so you made a mental note to relocate it as well. As you stepped back, you noticed that the dresser seemed slightly off-center, prompting you to adjust its position.

Lucien heard a distinct dragging sound across the wooden floor as he walked through the front door. Curious, he followed the noise and poked his head into the room. "Release the dresser immediately," he demanded, a playful glint in his eyes. "What exactly are you up to, my sly little fox?" A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he noticed your blush.

“I was just tidying a few things up,” you replied sheepishly, putting the dresser back on the ground.

With a playful smirk, he hoisted the dresser and carefully set it in its new spot, perfectly aligned against the wall. Sauntering over to where you stood, he took hold of your hands and teased, "Is destroying our poor floors your idea of tidying up?”

You inhale sharply, glancing around the room and blinking back tears. “I just want everything to be perfect,” you whispered.

Lucien’s face softened with understanding as he pulled you into his chest, wrapping one arm around your waist and cradling your head with the other. “I know, my love, but do you know what I want?”

“For your mother to send me her apple pie recipe?”

He chuckled before shaking his head. “I’m not opposed, but no. I want you to be healthy. I want our baby to be healthy. And then I want all of us to be happy. That’s it. That’s all I could ever ask for.”

The dam of tears you held back burst as you listened to your partner's sincere words. “I feel like there’s so much left to do. I know we have gotten so much done, but I can’t help but stress about what else we can do,” you whined.

“Oh, darling,” he sighed. He cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “Perhaps you subconsciously feel the more work you find, the more ready you will feel, but that is not how it works, unfortunately. We still have two months left, but I promise you we will be ready. You are ready. I have complete faith that you will be a natural once our kit is born. As for being physically ready, you’ve handled it all, my love. All that shopping with Mor and planning lists with Feyra paid off. I told you to leave some work for me,” he winked.

You snorted, smacking his chest lightly. “You’ve hardly let me do anything. You made me sit in that chair,” you pointed to the rocking chair in the corner, “while you built the crib, installed the bookshelf, and made me stay at Tamlin’s manor for two days while you painted the room.”

“Technically, it only took one day to paint and one more for the fumes to air out,” he quipped.

Before you could roll your eyes, the smell of burning cinnamon hit your nose. “Muffins!” You turned away from Lucien and waddled quickly towards the kitchen.

Lucien laughed as he followed after you. “I was wondering what sort of concoction you had brewing in there.”

“The baby asked for snickerdoodle muffins, and what kind of mother would I be to deny my child before they’ve even left the womb?”

“Ah yes, this telepathic connection between the two of you. Pray tell, what else does our little kit ask for,” he asked, leaning on his hands, watching you from across the island that separated you as you pulled the muffin pan out of the oven.

Placing the pan on the counter, you hummed before looking up at Lucien. “Well, since you’re asking,” you smiled deviously, “a nice warm bath complete with a massage. And chocolates.”

He licked his lips as he moved closer to you. “I can’t deny my child before they’ve left the womb, now can I? I shall run you a bath this instant.”

You giggled as he kissed the crown of your head and rubbed your belly before leaving the room. Staring at the muffins on the counter, you couldn’t resist eating one while they were fresh and steaming right in front of you. The crumbs of cinnamon and sugar crunched between your teeth as the bready muffin melted on your tongue, and an involuntary moan escaped you. Your baby may not be born yet, but they certainly have good taste in pastries.

“My love,” Lucien called. “I have a warm, lavender-scented bath ready for you.”

“Coming,” you mumbled, swallowing the last of the muffin before rounding the corner and trailing after Lucien.

As you walked through your bedroom and into the ensuite bathroom, you practically groaned in pleasure at the sight. Steam rose from the clawfoot tub, courtesy of Lucien’s heating powers, and bubbles covered the water's surface. You slipped off your clothes, and Lucien held your hand as you entered the tub. He quickly followed, chucking his clothes onto the floor next to yours.

You leaned back onto his chest as he sat behind you, thick, muscular thighs caging you in between them. “This is nice,” you sighed. The bubbles came up to your breastbone as your body slumped against his, but your bump protruded slightly out of the water's comforting warmth.

He hummed in agreement, grabbing a folded washcloth and submerging it in the water before gingerly running it across your arms. “It is the least you deserve,” he murmured. “I cannot thank you enough for carrying our child.”

You looked at him over your shoulder and smiled. “You don’t have to thank me, Luc. I love you, and I love our baby. I can’t wait to meet them.”

“I know you do,” he kissed the tip of your nose, “but I also know being pregnant is no easy feat. First, there was constant nausea and vomiting; now, it’s insomnia, swelling, and back pain. Not to mention the mental toll it takes on you, worrying day and night about what our baby will need, and as much as I hate that you’re so worried, your concern is how I’m sure you'll be a wonderful mother.”

“You can't know that,” you grumbled. “Preparing for it and living it is not the same thing.”

Lucien lathered shampoo in his hands and began to scrub your scalp. “Perhaps, but after believing Beron was my father for most of my life, maybe I’m just content in knowing we can love our child without that monster looming over us. Knowing I will never be like him and you, being an angel sent from the heavens, I think we’re quite set. All I ever wanted was for my future children to be safe, especially in their own home, and they will be.”

You sighed as he rinsed the soap out of your hair, one hand shielding your eyes from the suds. “That is a perspective I haven't considered. I’m sorry,” you murmured.

“Don’t apologize, my love. I only mentioned it because I want you to feel as content as I do. I don't want you spending your first pregnancy fretting over the little things when what's most important is that both of you are okay. We don't know what the future holds, and things could change in the blink of an eye, but in the meantime, I want us to love each other and enjoy ourselves while our kit gets ready for their debut.”

You intertwined your hands with his as you gave him a peck on the lips. “Thank you. You always know what to say to bring me back to Earth. I don't know what I would do without you.”

“Oh, I have a few ideas. Starting with rearranging this house until labor forced you to stop, you stubborn female.”

A soft giggle escaped you as you leaned further into Lucien’s chest. “The day can not come soon enough. My back might break if my stomach gets any bigger.”

Lucien chuckled as he caressed your bump with his large palm. Despite how huge you felt, his hand could still cover the top of your stomach, reminding you that you were, in fact, not actually the size of a mammoth. “I hate to tell you that our little fox is not done growing and will get bigger, but-” he leaned over your shoulder to kiss the bump, “I can assure you that you are unbreakable, my brave and resilient mate. Pregnancy is nothing compared to the battles you’ve overcome, but after this battle, we will be blessed with a precious baby in return, and they will be ours to cherish alone.”

You craned your neck to gaze up at him. “We’re going to have to share them every now and then, you know that right,” you teased.

A soft growl rumbled through his chest before he nipped at your nose, eliciting your squeal. “We don’t have to do anything. We could hide in the woods and live like cave dwellers. No one could make us leave.”

“Well, technically, Tamlin could, being High Lord and all.” You trailed off as he began to leave kisses along your neck.

Lucien hummed, the placement of his lips on your throat sending vibrations coursing straight through you. “I’d like to see him try. I do believe he owes me, coming back to help him repair his court and all,” he teases.

“Would he be grateful enough not to mind his Emissary and wife living in his woods like animals? We might scare the villagers.”

“Darling, if the villagers can’t handle two Fae harmlessly prancing about the woods, they are in the wrong court. Their High Lord turns into a beast, for cauldron's sake.”

You laughed, clenching your eyes shut and squeezing your thighs together lest you pee yourself. “I can’t believe I forgot that. My stupid pregnancy brain has me forgetting everything, including changing out my slippers for shoes before leaving the house. I was halfway to town before I realized.”

"Was that the day you asked me to go to the shops for more strawberry jam after you had said you were going to fetch it yourself," he chuckled.

“Yep,” you grimaced. “I had to turn around. That was a whole trip in itself. No way I was walking back to the shops.”

“I’m glad you didn’t. I told you to take it easy, not run around town like a headless chicken.” You smacked his arm for referring to you as a chicken, and he kissed your cheek in apology. “I will handle the shopping from now on. You needn’t worry your pretty little head about a thing.”

“Oh, so now I have a head?”

“You’re a wicked thing when you want to be.” He rose from the tub, reaching for the towels before stepping onto the rug. “Come on out, love. The water is getting cold, and I still owe you a massage.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” your eyes brightened as you took his hand and let him wrap you in a soft, fluffy towel.

You held hands as the two of you walked into your bedroom, cast in the warm glow of flickering candles. Lucien changed into sleep pants while you slipped on a silk nightgown. You sat down at your vanity, and before you could reach for your hairbrush, Lucien grabbed it. “Let me,” he murmured.

Smiling at him appreciatively over your shoulder, you nodded and closed your eyes as he gently brushed through your hair. He was careful to start at the ends with light strokes and work his way up to your roots, mindful of how fragile hair can be while wet. Starting at your hairline, he separated your hair into three sections and began to tie your hair into a french braid. It became your favorite way to style your hair for bed due to all the night sweats you’ve had during pregnancy. Sleeping while pregnant was still uncomfortable, but getting all your hair off your neck helped tremendously with not overheating at night.

“So beautiful,” Lucien whispered, trailing his fingertips down your arms. You made eye contact with him through the mirror and couldn’t stop the blush that crept upon your cheeks. “Let’s get you in bed now, my love.”

You let him lead you to the bed in the middle of the room and watched him pull back the covers. He sat down first, to your surprise, and patted the spot between his legs. You giggled but situated yourself between his thighs and pulled the covers up to your waist.

“First, the chocolate I promised.” He handed you a bowl of small rectangles of dark chocolate. You moaned and popped a piece into your mouth as you grabbed the bowl and placed it in your lap. “Now for that massage,” he leaned over to the side table and picked up the bottle of oil, shaking a few drops on the palm of his hand and rubbing them together. You pulled your braid over your shoulder and let the straps of your nightgown slip down enough for Lucien to access your back. “Where does it feel the most sore?”

“Along my spine and lower back,” you replied, chewing another piece of chocolate.

He hummed in acknowledgment and began to massage your back. Starting at the top of your spine, he ran his knuckles down your back, releasing the tension with his motions. He moved on to massaging circles into your lower back with his thumbs, and the pressure was heaven-sent in such a sore spot.

You don’t know how long you sat there feeling every ounce of love and care he put into relieving your pain. Your eyes remained shut, and you’d never admit that you may have dozed off a couple of times, only once or twice, with a piece of chocolate in your mouth.

After the massage, you leaned back onto his chest, placing the chocolates and oil back on the table, and he wrapped his arms around your bump to lift it. He dipped his chin down to your shoulder and kissed your neck softly. “Does that feel any better, darling?”

Exhaustion consuming you, you could only hum and nod. Lucien chuckled, turned off the flames with a snap, and shifted your bodies so that your head rested on his chest as he pulled you into his side. “Goodnight, my love,” he kissed your temple. “And goodnight, my little fox,” he splayed his hand on top of your bump and rubbed his thumb in soothing circles as you fell asleep.

[obae-me]

Here's a little fluffy hurt/comfort blurb based on this photo I took that's gotten a surprising amount of attention. We're all out here just simping for tired old anime men, huh?

Content: Hurt/Comfort, Solomon x Reader, GN MC

Keep in mind this might contain potential Nightbringer spoilers!

---

It had been another long night of attendant duties. They had already been considered a handful back in your time, so one could only imagine how bad they were now, or was then the proper term? This time jump still gave you a massive headache. One had to wonder how the demon brothers survived on their own without you around. Even Lucifer needed looking after, even if he would never say such a thing. He often had too many curious looks cross over his face when encountering something he'd never seen before. Of course, anything that happened was now your mess to clean up.

And while being needed by them bolstered your pride...caring for these demons that looked at you like a stranger was exhausting. Being told to return home when you considered the House of Lamentation your home was tiring. Not being able to find comfort in the arms of the demons you considered family was draining. You used to be able to sit down and talk to them. Now...they hardly listened to what you had to say, shooing you off as some fussy attendant. You thought these things over in your head as you walked home alone to Cocytus Hall. The steps you made seemed to echo through the empty streets, although you knew it was just your mind run ragged with weariness, woes, and worries.

The door to your new 'home' creaked as the old metal hinges announced your return. There wasn't a sound. No shouts of 'welcome home', no scolding of being out too late, no questions about where you'd been. It should've torn you up inside, it had torn you up inside, just right now you were far too fatigued to give in to your emotions. You couldn't handle another teary-filled night. Your feet shuffled up the stairs and towards your room. The space was dark, unfamiliar. You and Solomon had rearranged it to feel like your room at the HOL, he'd even grown a tree in the middle of the floor right by your bed, causing the Sorcerer to be harshly punished by Barbatos, but...it wasn't the same. Would it ever feel the same?

You slipped your feet out of your shoes, a flick of your leg sending them towards the frame of your bed. They clattered in the quiet room. Then, a not-so-quiet little groan reached your ears. You felt like at some point in your life, such a noise in a darkened room would've made you jump. Maybe Devildom life had changed you, or maybe you could distinguish the voice from the little moan alone. A little bit of the home-sickness coiled in your chest softened, your lungs not feeling quite so tight. "What're you doing in here?" You wondered aloud, keeping your voice barely above a whisper. When you weren't graced with a response, you twirled a finger, gesturing a spell towards the little lantern on the nightstand. You might not be powerful enough to send yourself home, but you weren't completely powerless at least. The candle's wick lit immediately, casting everything in it's short vicinity in a soft orange glow. There he was, a lump of a shadow atop your mattress. He was turned away from you, facing the wall your bed was pushed up against. His body seemed to be settled on the very edge. You couldn't help but shake your head at him. Not even under the covers, no pillow, still in his RAD uniform, sometimes you had to wonder if you were his attendant as well. He might master the magical and spectacular, but he always seemed to struggle with the most mundane of tasks, like his wisdom held no more room for the ordinary.

Although, despite this situation and the day's frustrations and the fact that there was a mess of a human in your unfamiliar bed, you found yourself smiling just a little, just enough to give you that little push you would need to get up in the morning. Solomon hardly ever let himself be caught in such a position. He wasn't one to often express his vulnerabilities. So, like most things he did, you wondered if it was intentional. Perhaps he was showing you this wasn't easy for him as well, his own strength depleted. Or perhaps there was another meaning to the tempting empty space beside him. You approached the bed and gripped at the end of the comforter. Solomon never seemed to have too much of a problem being berated-- if he did, he never showed it at least-- but the one thing he could never stand to be called was a magician. It always struck you as an odd fact, but an amusing one nonetheless. So, while it may have been childish, you urged him to show you one "magic" trick in particular. The one that's considered little more than a party trick, one where you tug at a sheet or tablecloth and leave the items that had been settled on top undisturbed. With a flourish, you tugged at the blanket with a brisk snap till it was fully in your hands. Although, it hadn't been perfect. You'd tugged Solomon back about an inch. His voice once again rumbled in his chest, a sleepy and curious murmur. You crawled into bed, the mattress bobbing a bit. You laid by his back, pulling the covers over the both of you. You grabbed a few pillows, placing one under your head and the other next to Solomon. With a gentle hand, you slid your palm under the sorcerer's neck, bringing your touch up to where you could feel his cheek. You lifted his head and dragged the cushion underneath it. Of course, this sudden act forced him to stir.

"Hm?" Solomon hummed, his cheek rubbing against the pillowcase till his head started to turn.

No, you didn't want him to move. You didn't want him to turn around, to look at your tired eyes that threatened to shed tears. So you planted your face in the back of his neck, your arms finding their way to his sides, wrapping around him. You were practically pinning him in place now. Which was fine. You...were supposed to act like a demon now, right? You could act selfish. You felt his body stiffen at first, a little bit off guard, but then he relaxed again.

You heard him breathe deeply through his mouth, perhaps still half-asleep. "Welcome home," you heard him whisper. "Long day?"

"Long week," you replied, a certain shudder in your voice you never intended to make. He went silent at that. You knew that the things you said hurt him to a degree. There was a sadness to his eyes whenever you showed up at Cocytus Hall with nothing but dejected looks on your face even when he sat there waiting for you with your favorite take-out. There was a little slump to his shoulders anytime you would express how lonely you felt even with him around. His smirk always wavered whenever he did his best to cheer you up but knew that it would never be enough. Coming all the way to the past like this just for you must be a heavy burden in it's own right. "I'm really glad," you began to say, "that you're here with me." You definitely had thought it in your mind, but you wondered if you expressed your thanks vocally yet. You'd finally done it now at least. "I don't think I'd be able to do this on my own."

His chest swelled in a big deep breath before letting it out through his nose. His hand managed to find one of yours, his fingers brushing against yours, not yet fully intertwining but simply dancing on the edge of the possibility. "You should give yourself more credit than that. But, I would be lying if I said I wasn't glad to hear you say that." You both rested in another little bout of peaceful silence, listening to the soft breaths of one another, feeling the warmth of another human. "It was an easy decision," Solomon finally expressed. "I didn't need to think twice about it. I couldn't leave my precious apprentice to fend for themselves." His fingers finally slipped between yours slowly, knuckle bumping into knuckle, feeling the pads of your palms, like he was exploring the feeling. You wondered how long it had been since he last held hands with someone. "My partner through time..." He then chuckled a little bit. "Sounds a bit like a cheesy movie, doesn't it?" Clearly he was trying to brighten the mood. You let out a single huff of a laugh, your nose at the base of his skull, his hair brushing against your face. You felt him take an unsteady breath, his body curling a little bit, shifting towards you. "Will you let me stay in your arms a little longer?"

A little smile curled around your lips. Tempting fate, you kissed the back of his neck. "You can stay here till morning if you want. After all, I wouldn't want to leave my adorable teacher all by himself," you lightly teased, mirroring his own phrase at him. You watched the dim light in the room flicker before it was snuffed out. Magic probably had a hand in it. You closed your eyes as adjusted your hold on Solomon, finding the most comfortable position against his back. "Goodnight," you whispered. "See you tomorrow?" You didn't mean for it to come off like such an uncertain question. But you were afraid, afraid that things would get worse, that you'd be stranded in the past forever.

But he was determined to be here with you, to make sure you were safe, to make sure you had someone to rely on. "I'll be here."

[rummels]

weight on my shoulders

relationships: platonic Reader & Chan & Changbin word count: ~2300 warnings: none tags: fluff, platonic intimacy, gender neutral reader summary: You're in a weird and uncomfortable headspace, your friends and flatmates Chan and Changbin help you with lots of soft affection and understanding.

read on ao3

You quietly plod into the living room, your feet hidden in thick fluffy socks causing you to sneak up to the couch unnoticed. Your frame is completely concealed by an oversized hoodie that reaches down to the middle of your thighs, tickling the back of your bare legs a bit when you stop a short distance away. You’re not sure if you like the feeling, it feels a bit like tiny zips of static prickle against your skin where the fabric brushes against you just the tiniest bit. It causes you to frown, huffing a tiny breath out of your nose. Everything feels a bit…off. The figure sitting on the couch hadn’t noticed you until now, engrossed in some TV show or movie, but the quiet noise makes the man look over to you.

“Hey,” Chan says softly, a warm smile tugging on his lips.

“I didn’t even notice you coming in. You wanna join me?”

He pats the space next to him in invitation, raising his eyebrows slightly in question and rearranging his position a bit so his legs are not stretched out across the couch. You tilt your head in a curious gesture and nod slightly, shuffling over and plomping yourself into the newly vacated spot, immediately leaning into Chan’s side. It’s not uncommon for you to seek out physical contact with your best friend and flatmate, the both of you sharing and enjoying skinship in a very loving yet platonic way.

It’s quiet for several minutes, Chan again taken in by whatever is shown on TV. You couldn’t care less, your brain going both zero and a thousand miles per minute, leaving you feeling a little overwhelmed and disoriented, not really knowing what to do with yourself while thoughts zip around in your head without you really being able to grab onto a single one of them. Chan’s hand unconsciously wanders across the back of the couch to you, his fingertips starting to slowly comb through the hair at your neck. You let out a low hum and close your eyes. This is nice. Somehow grounding. Just the tiniest bit, you push your head against the touch to encourage it and let Chan know to not stop his ministrations. He looks over to you again.

“Are you okay?” He looks a bit concerned. Usually you’re much more talkative, especially after a long day at work, wanting to share whatever annoyed or excited you that day or simply let out your annoyance about some frustrating project or other. Your brain rambles at you from the moment you wake up and simply letting your thoughts out and sharing them is often very relaxing to you, especially when you don’t have to be worried about being written off as an annoying chatterbox. Which you never have to worry about with Chan. Never had to, actually. So your continued silence is definitely raising some worries in your attentive friend.

You look at him, obviously giving the answer some thought before you scrunch your nose up and nod-shake your head in a definitely a little weird display of uncertainty. Immediately, Chan tunes in on you more, his whole body angling towards you a bit more while he studies your face.

“Did something happen?”

You shake your head no.

“Are you having a bad day?”

You shake your head again.

“Hm…are you getting sick?”

Again, a definite no, you shake your head.

“So simply a bad day maybe?”

You begin to negate that too when he hastily adds “You know that would be okay too, yeah? You can have a bad day without any reason and it’s still okay and valid. Some days are just fucked.”

A small grin sneaks onto your face, knowing he is about to quote one of those silly motivational Tiktoks you both send each other sometimes. He grins back, relieved at seeing your reaction.

“And there’s no way to unfuck them. Try again tomorrow,” he says and can’t stop himself from giggling a bit before ruffling your hair affectionately. You clear your throat, it feeling a bit scratchy after actually being silent for quite some time – you hadn’t even consciously realized that until now.

“Don’t worry, I’m not feeling bad, I’m just –“ You try to find the right words, frowning a bit, “-off? I don’t know,” you trail off, hoping he might understand. You yourself are not even able to understand it but Chan is smart, he gets people. And maybe he understands. Even if not, you know you don’t have to worry, he will simply accept it and will not try to force something out of you just for the sake of his own peace of mind.

You are proven right when he softly nods his head, his eyes deep in thought until he snaps back to you and gifts you one of his blinding smiles. “Come here, babygirl,” he says while pulling you over and manhandling you into a cuddling position against his side, halfway in his lap, his hands again finding themselves in your hair again. You make a little squawking noise at the pet name but your weird aversion to speaking right now is definitely not helping your protest. Factor in that Chan knows how much you actually secretly like the term of endearment? You’ve got no ground to stand on. The voices in your head have just started to discuss if this is something to be happy or disgruntled about when you feel his fingernails scratch against your scalp and you think you could start purring like a fucking cat any second now. Fuck this. There’s no snark left in you right now to defend yourself and you actually start to feel a tiny bit more like yourself so why bother?

Chan goes back to watching his show while holding you against himself, switching between softly combing through your hair with his fingers and giving you head scritches. You feel weirdly small, which seems a bit ridiculous to you considering you’re actually exactly the same height as him and also not exactly small in any other way. But it’s so nice, you melt more and more into him, your eyes drifting shut every now and then until your weird brain swirls manage to drag you up again.

By the time the front door opens and closes again, it has turned dark outside and Chan perks up, looking over the back of the couch towards the hallway.

“YA!” A shout echoes through the apartment, announcing the arrival of Changbin as he throws his backpack somewhere into the hallway.

You flinch at the sudden noise, also moving your head a bit but Chan suddenly has a rather firm grip in your hair and keeps you in place. Eyes widening, you feel like your pulse is suddenly going down in a very relaxing way. What the hell? The effect is too nice to fight against though, so you decide to go with it and stay where you are. Maybe Chan really does know best. Your own brain definitely doesn’t feel like it’s able to deal with any responsibilities and decisions right now.

“Tone it down, Binnie.” Chan’s voice vibrates against the side of your face. Huh, when did you slide all the way over to rest your face against his chest? You instinctively try to perk up again in surprise, you’ve also started to develop a bit of crick in the upper part of your back from the position you were in. This time Chan lets you but keeps his hand at the back of your neck which you are weirdly thankful for. Changbin chooses that moment to stick his head into the room and, seeing the two of you cuddled up on the couch, wiggles his eyebrows in a suggestive manner while smirking like the little gremlin he sometimes tends to be.

“You’re trying to win them over while I’m not home? Unfair business, Christopher,” he playfully scolds Chan and again you manage to smile. Yay, an emotion!

The two of them like to put up a whole charade of pretending to heroically and dramatically trying to win your heart over, each trying to ‘win’ against the other. All three of you are very much aware of the fact that this is all a game. You love them both to bits, would probably gladly cut off your own hand for them if the situation demanded it. But you’re also all very safe in the knowledge that nothing sexual would ever come into your relationship. Between you preaching about open and honest communication, Chan’s will to provide and care and give love and Changbin’s absolute lack of any kind of shame or reservations when it comes to feelings and affection, the three of you have created a very nurturing and loving environment in your shared apartment.

Chan’s chuckle is audible next to you before he speaks. “No wooing today, I’m just trying to cuddle y/n’s brain into submission because we’re feeling a bit weird today,” he explains, his thumb rubbing small circles into the soft skin under your ear while his hand lays on your neck.

“Oh no, do we have a scrambled brain today?” Changbin sits down next to you on the couch and leans closer, peering into your face like it may just give him all the answers on its own. You nod and pull a frowny face.

“They don’t like to talk right now.” Chan lets you out of his arms as you reach over for Changbin, going to lean your forehead against his big shoulder. But he reaches down and cups your face in his hands, holding it and looking at you while obviously thinking something over.

“Can I try something?” he ends up asking. “It might help but you need to tell me if you feel uncomfortable with it today, you know I will not be mad if you do, right?”

Having no clue which brilliant idea he has cooked up underneath those fluffy curls, you nod your head in agreement. You don’t need to worry, that much you definitely know.

Changbin hurries to shoo Chan off the couch and pushes you down with sure hands until you’re fully laying down. You only manage to look up at him for a couple of seconds before he is once again pulling and pushing at you until you end up on your stomach. He also tugs at your hoodie a bit until it doesn’t form any big creases against your body anymore and then you feel a warm hand at the small of your back.

“I will lay down on top of you now, is that okay?”, he asks softly and you feel a flutter of excitement in your chest. Yes. That would be perfect actually. Suddenly the fact that he’s not already settled on top of you seems almost cruel to you and you wiggle around a bit, nodding your head in clear agreement and permission.

He can’t help but poke your butt – of course he can’t – before crawling over you and then slowly letting all of his weight push down against you. You let out a small grunt of contentment, the air getting pushed out of your lungs and you feel like your bones turn into liquid. Perfect. This is exactly what you needed. Like putting on 3D glasses in the cinema, two separate yet connected, overlayered parts of yourself seem to finally slot together and begin to form a coherent version of yourself again. Changbin moves around a tiny bit still, finding the perfect spot and position to rest in while you turn your head to the side, peering into the dimly lit living room, your eyelids fluttering a bit.

Chan moves into your field of vision and crouches down to be at eye level with you. He’s got his signature ‘proud loving parent’ smile on and usually you would tease him for it – to hide how much you absolutely love get looked at like that – but right now it’s perfect for your mushy brain. He reaches out and tugs a bit on your hood.

“Would you like to put that on?”

You feel even less like talking right now, your body and mind almost like molasses. It’s a sweet, heady feeling and you smile, blinking slowly once and hoping he understands. He cocks his head to the side and raises an amused eyebrow.

“Is that a yes?”

You give a slow long blink again, probably smiling like an idiot. He chuckles and reaches over, slipping your hood over your head and arranging it in a way that makes you peek out of it like a little ferret out of its den. The fact that they know you so well, aware that you like to have your hearing muffled sometimes, feeling safe inside your hoodie, makes you so happy that you give another slow blink while contently scrunching up your nose with a smile. Chan boops it with his finger and stands up.

“You okay down there?”, you hear Changbin checking in from somewhere on top of you and you give a tiny wiggle so as to not accidentally throw him off of you but still answer his question ….somehow.

“Perfect. Just let me know when I should get up again, please don’t just yeet me off when it gets to be too much, alright?”

You wiggle again, completely settling in now and closing your eyes. Your head is not quiet, it never is when you’re awake. But right now there’s only a soft song buzzing in the back of your mind – you probably heard it somewhere on your way home – while you think about the new movie that’s running in the cinemas and you wanted to go to with both Chan and Changbin, your mind switching over to remember the time you all went to Changbin’s problematic cousin’s birthday party last month to crash it as a fake throuple, nearly sending the whole conservative side of his family into a collapse. Also there’s this brownie recipe Felix shared with you, maybe you’re gonna try that out tomorrow…

[guilty-pleasures21]

Another one?! Ugh, I get bored at work, okay?!

Guys, you don't know how many iterations this scene went through 😩.

1. Ergh, I don't really know if I want to write this ...

2. I wrote it.

Part 1 - the towel

Part 2 - the morning after

Warnings: descriptions of sex including fingering (f receiving) and ... I don't know what to call it, c*ck rubbing?

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

He slipped through the window into X’s bedroom and collapsed into her desk chair, not wanting to risk getting any grime onto her bed. At least he’d managed to get a vial of Scorpion’s poison, he thought, setting it down on her desk. Now they could try to reverse engineer a cure so it wouldn’t be so deadly anymore. His lips quirked at the ends as the sound of X singing in the shower wafted through the bathroom door. She had a nice voice, he thought to himself, not expecting it from someone normally so soft and shy. He rolled his neck as she continued, trying to get rid of some of the soreness as he waited for her to be done. Then the shower stopped and she walked out of the bathroom, her damp hair brushing over the curves of her breasts, her more sensitive parts barely hidden beneath the towel she’d wrapped around herself. Miguel sucked in a breath at the sight. 

     She’d forgotten that she’d put her pyjamas in the laundry that morning, leaving her stranded in the toilet without any clothes to put on. But it wasn’t like she needed to cover up for anyone anyway - she lived alone, after all, no one would see if she just slipped out to grab some clothes from her cupboard. But then a flash of red caught the corner of her eye and she jumped, startled to find Miguel sitting in her desk chair, lips parted and eyes wide as his gaze travelled over her barely concealed form. She squeaked in surprise and clutched her towel tighter around herself, wincing in embarrassment. “Miguel?” 

     He shouldn’t stare, he shouldn’t stare, he shouldn’t stare. But f*ck, she looked gorgeous, her long, smooth legs, her soft, tanned skin, all of her just waiting to be devoured by him. He dragged his gaze up to hers, snapping his jaw shut and swallowing hard. “¿S-Sí?”

     She kept her head down, avoiding his gaze as she made her way over to her closet. But why had he come over? Was he injured? That was the only time he’d normally come over. “Are you okay?” 

     His eyes fell back to her body as she shuffled over to the cupboard, unable to help themselves from roving all over her. He nodded, then tried to stammer out a response as she reached into the cupboard to get her clothes. “I-I … I just …” 

     She released her hold on her towel to dig out her pyjamas from deep inside her cupboard - she really had to rearrange her closet - but she hadn't twisted the towel tight enough, so it fell open, revealing her entire bare back to him. She let out an embarrassed yelp and grabbed the cloth before it fell to the floor, quickly wrapping it back around herself. She winced and turned back to him slightly, too afraid to look up and see what his reaction would be. 

     ¡Ay, p*ta madre! She was … She looked so f*cking soft, her cute little ass just waiting for him to bite down on it and force more embarrassed squeaks out of her mouth. He clenched his fists and bit down on his tongue, his body almost shaking with the effort it took to restrain himself. Then he called out to her, trying to get her to look up at him. “Ara … Arañita.” 

     His voice was low, hoarse and she bit her lip at the desire evident there, peeking up at him shyly from beneath her eyelashes. ¡Coño, she was cute! Miguel reached a hand out to her, then stopped halfway, curling his fingers into a fist and lowering it back down to his side. He shook his head at her. “Don't … Don't look at me like that, arañita.” 

     And this was it, this was the turning point. She could either run back to the toilet, throw her clothes on and pretend like none of this had ever happened … Or she could tease him, in that way she always did, her gaze trailing over his body appreciatively before she flashed him that challenging smirk. Her features flickered with indecision as she considered her options and he prayed to God she'd choose the latter. He didn't think he'd be able to control himself much longer, not with the way she stood across from him, so small and delicious, just waiting for him to have his way with her. Finally, the ends of her lips twitched and she looked up at him again, her eyes glinting with mischief beneath her dark and curly eyelashes. He swallowed hard. 

     “Like what? Dr O'Hara?” she asked him naughtily. He groaned and marched over to her, forgetting all about the soreness in his body as the adrenaline began rushing through his veins. He placed one hand on the cupboard behind her, leaning over her and trapping her beneath him. Then he dragged his thumb across her lower lip, his pupils dilating as his eyes fixed on her mouth. 

     “Carajo, arañita,” he mumbled softly. “You know what it does to me when you call me that.” Her eyelids fluttered at the feeling of him so close to her, so warm and so strong, the calluses on his skin catching on her lips. She tilted her head up, overcome with the urge to close the gap between their mouths - to taste him as she'd imagined doing so many times before. 

     “W-What … does it do to you … Miguel?” she breathed. “When I call you that?” 

     P*tas, that was even worse: hearing his name fall from her lips like that - like she needed him, not just wanted him. He let his fingers trail down her throat, then bent over, bringing his mouth even closer to hers, so that he could feel her breath blowing over his lips. “Arañita.”

     She shivered at the huskiness of his tone; at how so very close he was to her, the woodsy, slightly spicy scent of him washing over her and clouding her brain. “S-Say my name, Miguel. P-Please?” 

     She tried to pout up at him, to frustrate him like she always did, teasing and poking him until he couldn’t take it anymore, his mouth watering with how badly he wanted to taste her. But her eyes just fell to his lips when she opened them again, unable to focus on anything else. So he pressed them to hers, gentle at first, then more aggressive, his tongue sweeping across her mouth as he licked her up hungrily. Mierda, she was even better than he’d imagined: soft and sweet, her tongue winding around his as slow as he was fast. He uncurled his fingers from around her throat as he continued moving his mouth against hers, his hand drifting down her collarbone and to the fist still clenched around her towel. He tugged on her hand lightly, then lowered his lips to her neck, moving his arm to wrap around her waist as he began pressing open-mouthed kisses along her shoulder. “X. X, can we … X …” 

     He brushed his nose up her neck, nudging her head to the side, then grinned against her ear when she let out a soft gasp. He lowered his hand to grip her ass and growled when she let out a surprised yelp as he closed his fingers around her. She whimpered as he tugged on her skin with his teeth and he let his hand trail even further down her curves, right to the edge of her towel where he started sliding his hand up her bare skin. 

     “W-Wait!” she gasped, grabbing onto his forearm to stop him in his tracks. He curled his fingers against her, confused, then straightened, his chest heaving with shallow breaths as he tried to focus. 

     His eyes were so dark, the glowing copper of his irises engulfed almost entirely by the blacks of his pupils. She gulped at the sight, then looked away quickly, mentally rehearsing what she wanted to say to him. 

     “I really … I really like you, Miguel. Like, a lot. And I … I don’t want just a one-night stand from you.” She glanced up at him quickly, trying to gauge his reaction to her confession, then lowered her gaze again. “Or something.” She let him go then, shifting nervously in position as she waited for his response. 

     ‘One night wouldn’t be enough for all the things I want to do to you, arañita,’ is what he would have said if she hadn’t just poured her heart out to him so honestly. She turned back to him, her lips parted in surprise, her eyes wide with shock. Then she bit down on a smile, curling into herself shyly. P*ta madre, he’d just said that out loud. He took a step away from her, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration as he tried to figure out what to say. 

     “I … I didn’t mean … What I meant to say was …” He rubbed the back of his neck, his heart thrumming in his chest. “I … really like you too, X.” He turned back to her, lifting his gaze to meet hers, and she grinned at his confession. Coño, she was cute, standing there smiling at him shyly while she was still all wrapped up in her towel. He had to get her out of that damn towel. She brushed her hair behind her ear, oblivious to his thoughts. 

     “Okay, so … what should we do now? I mean … I’ve never done this before and …” She smiled up at him again, excited this time, and he felt the testosterone begin to sprint through his veins. But then all of a sudden, her features melted into an expression of apprehension. “Wait. You’re my boss, Miguel. Is this … allowed?” 

     Mierda, he hadn’t even thought about that. His stomach churned with anxiety. “I don’t know. I’ve never … I’ve never checked … before.” 

     “Um, well, we can check?” she suggested, grinning at his revelation. Then she started moving closer to him, her each step slow and cautious. “And, even if it isn’t allowed, I mean … it’s not like we’re going to be all lovey-dovey at work and stuff. We’ll still be professional! And, anyway, we’ve kept this secret for this long.” She stopped in front of him and shrugged, treating him to a smile so sweet that he felt his mouth start to water. He cupped her cheek in his hand, his eyes racing across her body hungrily. She was right, they’d find a way, they’d … 

     “Arañita,” he began, his voice hoarse with restraint. “Are you sure? You … I’ll be fine. But you …” He would be fine, renowned and respected as he was. But she? Fresh out of uni in her first job? A woman of colour surrounded by entitled, middle-aged men? And non-confrontational as she was? They’d eat her alive. And she was much too clever for that, she had far too much left to give. He couldn’t do that to her - he wouldn’t. She reached up to twine her fingers around his, her expression softening in understanding. 

     “We’ll be careful, Miguel,” she reassured him. “I know how much you care about me. And … I don’t think I can spend another day pining after you hopelessly now that I know what your lips taste like.”

His jaw dropped at her naughty declaration. He knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to ‘pining hopelessly’ after her now that he knew what she tasted like. Now that he’d seen that cute little ass of hers just ready for him to bite down on it and make her squeal for him. He licked his lips as he cupped her face in both of his hands now, pulling her to him so he could start kissing her again, harsh and desperate, like she was a lake in the middle of a desert. He licked her tongue aggressively, running his hands down her wonderfully soft little body and lifting her up into his arms so he could carry her over to her bed. He set her down, then deactivated his suit and crawled on top of her, nothing left between them but his underwear and that goddamned towel. 

     He was hers, all hers, his broad chest, his tanned skin, his rippling muscles. She reached out a hand and brushed her fingers cautiously across the hard planes of his chest. Holy shit, he felt good. She couldn’t wait to feel him wrapped all around her, his firm muscles pressing against her soft curves. He lowered himself on top of her and she slid her arms around his neck as he began kissing her again, running her fingers along his back appreciatively. She wrapped her legs around his waist, then moaned as he pushed his hips into hers, his large bulk grinding against her already throbbing p*ssy. 

     “Arañita,” he groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck. She hugged him tight, sliding her fingers into his hair and scrunching the strands as he grinded himself into her, his hips rolling so deliciously against hers. 

     “Miguel …” she interrupted him, smiling against his neck nervously, “I’m still a virgin, by the way.” 

     P*ta madre, how could he have forgotten?! He sat up quickly, pulling himself away from her and putting far too much distance between them. “Are you … sure you want to do this? We don’t have to; if you don’t want to.”

     She pushed herself up to a seat, grinning at the desperation so clearly written across his face. 

     “I want to!” she replied quickly, trailing her gaze over his body and licking her lips. “Are you insane, Miguel?! You’re so hot! I want you so bad, mi araña.” His lips twitched at her statements and he leaned forward again, allowing her to curl her fingers around his shoulders and get a feel of his corded muscles. 

     “I’ve … touched myself … before … a little,” she mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear. He perked up, his eyes lighting up at the thought. 

     “Besides,” she began uncertainly, avoiding his gaze in embarrassment. “I know what it feels like. Kind of.”

He shook his head, confused. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? “W-What?”

She looked away and cleared her throat, her cheeks heating up at her own admission. 

    “Where?!” he asked her quickly. She raised an eyebrow, taken aback by his unexpected excitement.

     “What do you mean ‘where’?” He gestured to her body.

     “Where do you touch yourself?” Another confused raise of her brows.

     “Where do you think I touch myself?” 

     “I want to see.” He nodded at her towel, his tone firm. “Show me.” And finally, gracias a Dios, finally, she unwrapped that damned towel and slid it off, tossing it aside. She leaned back on the pillows, fighting against the instinct to cover herself up as his eyes ran over her body, bare before him. Then she bit down on her thumb, a mischievous expression on her face.

     “Don't you want to touch me, Miguel?” she teased him. “I already know what it feels like. Don't you want to find out?”

He clenched his jaw as he leaned over her, sucking in a breath as he tried to figure where to start. F*ck, she was gorgeous. She chuckled at his uncertainty and sat up, climbing into his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. He groaned at the feeling of her breasts pressing against his chest and dug his fingers into her ass, gripping her tightly.

     “Cariño,” he pleaded. X giggled at the desperation in his voice and slid her fingers into his hair, burying them in the soft strands as she began kissing him. She moaned into his mouth as he wrapped his strong arms around her, his tongue tangling with hers so deliciously. He slid one hand down her back, dragging his fingernails along her spine until he reached her thigh, then he lowered his lips to her neck, holding her close to him as he brushed his nose along her shoulder. Ay, por Dios, she was so f*cking soft! “Arañita …” 

     “Mmm, Miguel.” She bit her lip as she began moving her hips against his, her head falling back in pleasure as she felt his clothed c*ck brushing up against all her sensitive nerves. He kissed his way up her throat, his hands arching her lower back and pulling her more vigorously against him. Then he sank his teeth into the crook of her neck, his sharp fangs grazing her skin pleasantly. She lay one hand on the bed behind her, stretching herself out and grinding herself even harder against him. Shit, she was getting so wet, so very wet, her arousal dampening his underwear beneath her. 

     “Miguel! Miguel!” she moaned loudly, digging her fingers into his brawny shoulder as the pleasure kept building up inside of her. Miguel growled as he pressed a kiss to the crook of her neck, then he lowered her down onto the bed, spreading her legs wide. He reached down and pulled his underwear off, revealing to her his rapidly hardening c*ck, and she felt her nipples tingle with excitement. He took hold of himself as he leaned over her, pressing his tip against her folds and tracing her clit with his c*ck. She shivered at the feeling, her eyelids fluttering shut as her hips bucked off the mattress, begging him for more. 

     “You like that, preciosa?” he chuckled, delighting in how helplessly she squirmed and writhed beneath him. “You like feeling my d*ck on your p*ssy?” He buried his face in her neck, groaning at the very thought, and moved to wrap his arms around her, pressing her against his chest. 

     “Arañita,” he whined, nipping at her ear as he dragged his c*ck along her folds, rubbing himself up against her. Dios, she felt so f*cking good, her stiff nipples dragging along his skin as her soft breasts bounced up and down against him. He reached a hand down and slipped a finger inside of her, pushing and prodding at her walls as she twitched and writhed around him. She moaned loudly and rocked her hips harder against his hand, her movements getting more frenzied as she approached her edge. Finally, she came, his powerful muscles holding her in place as she shook and shuddered in his arms. He kept his d*ck pressed against her p*ssy as he removed his finger and kissed a trail along her cheek, his c*ck so painfully hard for her. Especially when she was looking up at him with that lovely f*cked-out expression on her face. He growled, his fangs pricking her skin at the spot where her neck met her shoulder and she sucked in a breath, curling herself around him tightly. 

     “M-Miguel,” she whimpered, her toes curling at the feeling of how hard he was. God, he felt good, his strong body wrapped around hers so very nicely. “Let me … Please?” 

     He pulled back to look down at her, her curly hair matted around her face, her cheeks flushed and glowing with pleasure. Dios, she was beautiful. He leaned closer to her again, his lips curling into a smirk as he murmured against her lips. “Let you what, princesa? You know there’s no way you’re fitting my d*ck into that tight little p*ssy of yours tonight, right?” 

     She whined in protest and grabbed onto his face, kissing him deeply, the movements of her tongue so slow and appreciative against his. 

     “Mmm, I can … There must be … something else … I can do,” she mumbled in between kisses, hoping to please him even half as much as he’d pleased her. He grinned and slid his hand down her torso, taking hold of her breast and squeezing it. 

     “Mmm, arañita.” His low voice rumbled out of his chest and sank into her skin, vibrating along her very bones. He circled her nipple with his thumb and she squeaked into his mouth, feeling herself starting to leak again at the feeling of his calloused skin on her. All his, she was all his, her cute little smile and round perky tits and her soft and smooth curves. Just as he was hers. He lowered his mouth to her shoulder, brushing his lips down her collarbone and to her breast where he dragged his tongue across her nipple before pulling it into his mouth. He sucked on her gently and slid his hand back down to her p*ssy, teasing her clit with his fingers so that her arousal continued to drip out of her, her body so sensitive to his every touch. Then he sat up and flipped her over, pulling her hips up off the bed. She barely had time to react before he'd slid his d*ck in between her thighs, squeezing her legs together so that they closed around his c*ck.

     “F*ck, arañita,” he muttered, his fingers digging into her ass as he began moving his hips back and forth, rubbing his bulky length against her soaked folds. He leaned over her, bracing one hand on the bed by her head and using the other to lift her up against him. He pulled himself in and out of her slowly as he moved his hand up her abdomen to squeeze her breast, burying his face in her neck and groaning against her as he did so. “Mmm, sientes … You’re so f*cking soft, arañita.” 

     He pulled her up so she was on her knees, back pressed against his hard chest as he thrust his hips against hers, his legs holding hers together so her thighs squeezed around his d*ck. God, he was huge, so large and so satisfying between her, rubbing up against her clit so very nicely. He grazed his teeth against her neck as he kneaded her breasts in his hands, relishing the way her ass bounced against his abdomen as she came again, her tiny little body struggling against him. He licked a line up her neck and nipped her ear when she was done, then wrapped his arms all the way around her as he felt his own body begin to tighten. She let out a surprised yelp as he came too, his body twitching as he tried to continue his movements through it, his balls slapping lazily against the backs of her thighs as he painted her skin with his seed. He slumped over her when he was done, his heavy weight forcing her back down onto her stomach beneath him. 

     “Miguel,” she laughed, finally having returned to her senses. He didn’t even give a grunt of acknowledgement, so out of it he was. “Miguel, I can’t breathe!” He sighed and flopped over onto his side, giving her the space to curl herself around him. He slid his hand up her back as she settled in his arms and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, cuddling her loosely against him before moving his fingers to her hair. 

     “Miguel,” she murmured, breathing in the wood and nutmeg scent of him. He hummed in question, his fingers twirling her curls as he waited. “When did you … When do you think you started liking me?” He wrapped his arms tighter around her and she snuggled against him comfortably. 

     “That first time, after you helped me with that first mission,” he mumbled into her hair, thinking back on it. She'd heard him curse as the Lizard had cut him with a claw, piercing the fabric of his suit and breaking the skin of his arm. He recalled her tone being laced with panic as she'd asked him if he'd been hurt, but she said nothing more about it after he'd waved her off, letting him focus until he'd taken down the villain. Then she'd commanded him to go to her place, waiting until he'd dragged himself over so she could patch him up. And as he'd sat at her kitchen island, her slender fingers brushing against his skin, her messy hair tickling his cheek as she huffed in annoyance over his carelessness, he realised that he was glad she'd found him out - glad that it had been her and no one else who'd discovered his secret and then convinced him to let them help. Because, he'd realised then, he didn't want anyone else. He just wanted her. Just her, just for him, the two of them together. “What about you?” 

     She pushed herself up slightly so she could give him a fake look of confusion. “Spiderman or Miguel?” 

     “Arañita,” he chastised her, his brows setting into a frown. She grinned and lay back down in his arms, then trailed her fingers along the defined ridges of his chest as she thought about it. 

     She tilted her head back to look up at him, her almond-shaped eyes so wide and pretty as she gazed at him in question. His lips curled at the corner and he brushed her hair out of her face. 

     “Well, I always kind of had a crush on you - because you're really hot and really smart,” she told him, her tone tinged with amusement. “But … I think for me, it was that time you asked me what was wrong. When I was sad that day? And you made me stay back after the meeting to check up on me?” 

     “I really liked you then,” she confessed, grinning and snuggling back into his chest. “You're so … You care so much about me. How could I not like you?” He smiled, his eyelids fluttering shut as he drifted off to sleep, the both of them warm and content in each other's embrace.

[nerdanel01]

Appearances

Emmrich Volkarin/F!Rook (*Emmrich POV) 1.5k+ | SFW A chance meeting with Myrna in the dining hall yields some unexpected revelations. EXCERPT: “If you ever left the Mourn Watch, what would happen to Agnes, then?”

Emmrich swallowed around the sudden dryness in his throat. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

Myrna flashed him a skeptical look before refocusing on her hand. Her fingers wavered over the discard pile, then changed course and plucked one from the deck. “Aren’t the two of you…?”

9:50 Dragon

It was well past dinner by the time Emmrich returned to the Necropolis, and the Mourn Watch dormitories within. Watcher business had taken him into the city, to the Dietrich Estate on the banks of the Minanter. The visit was a formality, a courtesy; Lord Dietrich was on his deathbed, and arrangements needed to be made for his internment in the Necropolis. Such visits were perhaps the most emotionally harrowing responsibility the Watchers held: often, they were more about reassuring and comforting the living than they were about making arrangements for the dead. But Lady Dietrich, Emmrich had long suspected from his brief encounters with her in the past, cared very little for her husband. Her displays of grief were utterly transparent, a ploy for his attention; she had called upon every social convention and all the somber duties of his post to keep Emmrich in her estate far longer than was decent. 

Between the company of the Nevarran nobility and the dead, more often than not, Emmrich preferred the latter. 

Fortunately for him, there was still a pot of leftover stew bubbling away in the kitchens when at last he made his way home. He ladeled himself a bowl, carved a slice of bread from the loaf laid out, and carried both back to the dining hall above. This late in the evening, the hall was mostly empty, only a few scattered groups of Watchers collected along the two banquet tables. But Emmrich spotted Myrna in the corner, lingering over a cup of tea, playing solitaire alone. She smiled when he joined her and recollected her cards, shuffling the deck and dealing him into a game they could play together.

“How was your visit with Lady Dietrich?” Myrna asked, teasing him, fanning and then rearranging the cards in her hand.

“Uncomfortable,” Emmrich answered, with an honest chuckle, “as usual.” Discarding one of his cards and then picking up another from the deck, he added, “She offered me a job.”

“Really?”

“Well, you know, her husband is dying—though the loss does not seem to weigh on her too terribly,” he told Myrna, dryly. “She is looking for someone to design his tableau, and to undertake a general restoration of the Dietrich mausoleum.”

Myrna snorted, picking up the face card he had discarded and tucking it in her hand, then placing the four of swords down on the discard pile. “A position for which, I am sure you were quick to tell her, you are not in the least bit qualified for.”

“Indeed, I reminded her quite emphatically that I am a necromancer, not an architect nor an artisan.”

“Which, undoubtedly, did not dampen her enthusiasm in the least,” Myrna said, clucking her teeth disapprovingly. “The gall of that woman, trying to poach you from the Mourn Watch for her vanity project. As if you could be bought.”

Emmrich nodded in agreement, drawing another card. “Not that I’d ever accept the offer, mind,” he told her, adding again to the discard pile.

“Of course not,” Myrna replied, as though that fact were clear as day. “If you ever left the Mourn Watch, what would happen to Agnes, then?”

His eyes shot to Myrna’s face, but it had not changed in the slightest. Her eyes were fixed on her cards, her lower lip caught thoughtfully between her teeth as she plucked at one card, then another, shuffling their position in her hand. As though she had not just said something so bizarre, so provocative.

Emmrich swallowed around the sudden dryness in his throat. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

Myrna flashed him a skeptical look before refocusing on her hand. Her fingers wavered over the discard pile, then changed course and plucked one from the deck. “Aren’t the two of you…?”

The trailing end of that question was a tiny torture. “Aren’t the two of us what?”

Myrna’s eyebrows shot so high they nearly reached her hairline. “Oh, is that how it’s going to be, Emmrich?” she asked him, in her most no-nonsense tone (though surely, it was she who was speaking utter nonsense—wasn’t she?) “You’re going to make me say it out loud?”

A note of impatience crept into his voice. “Yes, Myrna, you will have to use your words, as I haven’t the faintest idea of what it is you’re talking about.”

“Fine,” Myrna said, yielding with a huff. “Aren’t you two more than partners?”

The dining hall suddenly felt much too warm. Though his back was towards the rest of the Watchers who still lingered, Emmrich was suddenly keenly aware of them: of the clink of their utensils, of their low voices. Did his conversation with Myrna carry across the hall to their ears? He worded his answer very, very carefully. 

“Well... yes, of course we are also very good friends.”

Myrna looked at him like he could not possibly be so thick. “Not more than friends?”

Trickle of sweat from the crown of his skull down the back of his neck, beneath the collar of his shirt. He longed for the cool of the Necropolis. He wanted to go down among the dead and never reemerge.

“That’s…” Emmrich began, then laughed uneasily, frowned, cleared his throat. He turned his eyes back to his cards; he did not think he could bear the scrutiny in Myrna’s gaze. “That’s preposterous, Myrna. I cannot imagine what gave you that impression.” Lower, under his breath, he added, “By the Maker, I am old enough to be her father.”

“Perhaps,” Myrna answered, not missing a beat. “Just barely. But even if that were true, that doesn’t preclude the possibility of something else growing between you.” With a casual little shrug of her shoulders, as if each of her words did not have the force of a wrecking ball knocking his sense of self and reality into dust, she added, “Some people have a predilection for that sort of thing; I am not one to judge.”

“She doesn’t,” Emmrich said, forcefully, feeling the sudden need to defend Agnes against whatever Myrna was insinuating. “What gives the impression that I’m—that she’s—”

Myrna set her cards face down upon the table, raised her hands, and then, favoring Emmrich an absolutely withering look, began ticking off the reasons on her fingers.

“Exchange of gifts,” she said, pointing to the lazurite scarab ring on his hand. One finger. “The little dates you take her on to the opera.” Two fingers. The word ‘dates’ made Emmrich wish the floor would simply swallow him. And then, not bothering to hide her bewilderment, Myrna lifted her third finger and delivered the coup de grace: “The fact that the two of you share a tent during your excursions to the Necropolis, even if it is as you say, and you aren’t actually—well. Sleeping together in the erotic context.”

His heart was pumping so fast, his blood rushing in his ears. His neck was unbearably warm. “We shared a tent one time,” he practically hissed at Myrna, “and only because we had lost our other tent while we were getting chased across the King Aurum’s Bridge.”

Myrna’s lips curled into something awfully like a smirk. “Are you actually blushing, Emmrich?”

He did not dignify that with a response; surely his burning cheeks spoke well enough for themselves. He fixed his eyes on the playing cards in his hand, all game strategy flown from his mind, trying to ground himself by focusing on the pictures on the cards: the eight of wands, the ten of cups. The High Priestess. The Lovers. Unbidden, his eyelid gave a faint twitch. 

Feeling hardly prepared for the answer, he asked Myrna:

“Is this just an absurd fancy of your own imagination, or does everyone in the Watch believe such torrid nonsense?”

Myrna shrugged, turning her eyes back to her cards. “I think most people are probably too polite to say one way or the other.”

“But you think they, too, assume…?”

Myrna only answered with another noncommittal shrug. 

Incredible, how indifferently she could sit there while Emmrich was in a complete spiral. How long had that reputation followed them? Surely not since the incident with the one tent? Did everyone make such assumptions about them, or was it just Myrna and a select few? Surely Agnes herself could not be aware that they were the source of such speculation—or so he dearly hoped. 

“Emmrich, please don’t get upset,” Myrna said, gently. “Really, I didn’t mean anything by it. And whatever everyone else assumes, I’m sure no one thinks less of you, one way or the other.”

But it was hardly himself that Emmrich was worried about. All he could think about was Agnes in the gardens, Agnes at the opera, Agnes humming love songs under her breath. She wanted the kind of love in that music, in those stories; sweeping, total, romantic. After everything she had been through, she deserved it: to love and be loved in kind. 

And that was never going to happen for her if every man she met assumed she was already spoken for. Until now, Emmrich had stolen that possibility from her. Stolen her youth from her. 

Perhaps, were it not for him and his selfishness, Agnes would have been happily married long ago. 

“Myrna, forgive me. I just—I have to…” Emmrich rose from the bench, his stew and bread untouched. He no longer had an appetite. “We’ll play again soon, yes?”

“Emmrich?” No small amount of concern or alarm in Myrna’s voice as she called after him, but Emmrich was determined, moving with purpose. And now it was so obvious to him it was mortifying, everything that Myrna had seen, had read into: his inappropriate affection, clearly far less well concealed than he had imagined. The way others might interpret Agnes’ near filial devotion to him, the way she cared for him. Worst of all was the suspicion that a part of him had known all of that to be true for years, and had done nothing to stop it. That a part of him—irredeemable, unforgivable—had wanted to keep all her light to himself. 

In no time at all, he was at the threshold of Johanna’s office. He knocked once. When she did not answer immediately, he knocked again. Then again.

At last Johanna emerged, straightening her glasses on her nose, a look of irritation on her face. “Emmrich, what in the name of Andraste—” she began, ready to reprimand him for his impatience before she took in the sight of him before her. Her face fell, and her tone flipped in an instant to one of concern. “Copulating corpses, Emmrich, you look awful. Is everything alright?”

“Is now a bad time?” Emmrich asked her, red-faced, breathing heavily. “I need to speak with you.”

[alice-angel12x]

Where everything begins

Idia + Death! reader pt.2 (Part 1. here)

"Life? So there is a celestial opposite to you?" Leona asked.

"Indeed, for we will need Life's help for Ortho and Vil," Y/n nodded.

"Alright, a quick detour should be alright. It's always interesting to see new places," Azul said.

"And it would be interesting to meet Life," Rook agreed.

"Alright, but how are we gonna get there. Where does Life live Y/n?" Riddle asked.

"Well, I must ask one more time. Are you sure you all want to come?" Y/n asked as the boys nodded.

Y/n smirked as they told the boys to draw close, as they were gonna fast travel to Life. Riddle once again asked Y/n where life lived, and Y/n answered a place beyond twisted wonderland. But Before The boys could back out, they suddenly started floating upwards as a dark portal began to open up.

As they remained suspended in the air, they were suddenly sucked up into the portal. Flashes passed by their vision. Riddle looked to his left to see a... Another... World.

Riddle saw a large city with windmills and a giant winged person standing above it. Its arms stretched out in front of it.

Azul looked to his left to see an old English castle. One he's never seen before when fireworks exploded above the castle. Spelling "Welcome to Hogwarts".

Vil and Epel Looked down to see a world of... Sentient cookies, cake monsters, and other strange dessert creatures. While Leona and Rook flipped onto their backs to look up and saw a world of strange people. A bunch of students was heading toward an H-shaped building, the Sign UA in bold letters.

As they traveled between space, suddenly the tunnel began to waver and twist.

"What's happening?" Ghost Ortho asked.

"It appears Space is rearranging and shuffling the worlds around like a pack of playing cards. I was hoping to just have a simple straight path, but it seems we might have to travel through a few worlds to get to Life," Y/n sighed.

"Other?" Idia asked nervesly.

"Worlds?" Ortho asked with excitement.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure the worlds we rest in a safe. For your sake," Y/n said as they quickly scanned the worlds and universes being shuffled around them.

The first world The group rest in was the world of Sentient Cookies, having a stop at the cookie kingdom. The boys were shocked to find themselves transformed into cookies. Their hair and clothes were made of sugar and frosting.

Idia, Ortho, Riddle, and Epel were happy enough to partake in simple adventures around the Cookie kingdom. Leona found many comfy napping places, while Vil and Rook explore the kingdom and its shops. Azul was too interested in how money works in this world.

The next world was Totally not your standard Isekai magic world. I mean a fantasy world, with orcs, dragons, and Slimes. Vil and Idia were not happy with the unadvanced. Idia with the lack of advanced tech, while Vil did not like the lack of basic amenities or basic hygiene.

So Y/n would point out some unique things about this world. How, yes this world is unadvanced in the technology department, but their potions far surpass Twisted wonderland. Much to The NRC boy's surprise.

"How so?" Azul asked.

"While in Twisted, technology evolved and improved faster than magic. So your world relies on machines instead of spells, so your magic never really evolved," Y/n explained.

"in this world, magic is used for everything, farming, cosmetics, forging, and hygiene," Y/n added.

This was amazing to the other worlders, as Riddle wanted to get his hands on all the magic books. Vil wanted all the potion books and herbs.

Soon this supposedly fast and simple trip became a tour across the universe and dimensions. With each world, the boys always find something to collect. But eventually, they got to the Origin, to Life.

It looked like a large tree, the size of a castle floating in space, and at the top of the tree was a large orb of light.

"Is this Life?" Vil asked.

"This is where Life lives and works," Y/n said as they hurried them to the tree.

As they landed on the great roots all the boys stared in awe. The great size of the roots, look like wide meadows. Suddenly there was a surge of mist that blanketed the ground.

"Step inside my home," said a strong voice.

Everyone looked ahead to see a hollow at the base of the root. Ghost Ortho clung to Idia as a few of the boys began to tremble slightly. Y/n stepped ahead of them, and with a gentle smile lead them toward the hollow. Inside were two spiral staircases that led up the tree.

"Augh! Please tell me we do not have to climb all those flights of stairs?" Leona groaned.

"Who are you, and what brings you?" Asked the strong voice.

Everyone looked up to see a figure standing at the top of the first flight of stairs. The mist obscured the figure. The boys recognized a human torso, but they noticed that the figure's legs were very skinny. With strange protrusion on the top of the figure's head. Y/n simply rolled their eyes and swiftly waved their arm, clearing all the mist.

"Enough Life," Y/n sighed. " We're just visiting, and I could really use your help with something."

"Augh, come on Death, I never ever get to make a grand impression," Sighed the antlered figure.

Life had emerald green eyes, with long flowing brown hair framing his face. The hooved god quickly rushed down the stairs and ran straight to Death, pulling them into a warm hug.

"So this deer God is Life?" Leona asked.

"Indeed, But I can be as ferocious as any other beast," Life smiled as he showed off his razor-sharp teeth.

Not even Leona or any other predator-beast man had a mouth full of dagger-like teeth compared to this Life person. As Life looked over the guests Death brought he noticed an odd one out of the group, the 80-year-old man with this group of young people.

"Umm, who is this gentleman?" Life asked.

"I'm...I'm Vil Schoenheit," Vil said as the old man began to sob.

"Vil! What happened to you? You're only 18!" Life gasped.

"He got too close to Tartarus," Death explained.

"What! Death, I thought you got rid of the underworld!" Life huffed in slight annoyance.

"Well, I can't help that Hades did a good job at hiding it all these years. And I can't do anything about it now 'cause people live on it," Death laughed slightly.

"Well alright," Life sighed and turned his attention to Vil. " We should fix this. Jerry!"

Suddenly a strange transparent abstract being, that was called Jerry appeared and handed Life a staff with a floating orb at the top end. Life smiled and gently grabbed the staff and raised the orb above Vil's head. Light started to emerge from the orb when a small drop of a potion dripped onto Vil's head.

Vil looked down at his hands to see the skin tighten as the wrinkles started to disappear. Vil pulled out his pocket mirror to see his Youthful self staring back at him. All the while Vil cheered in happiness, the boys noticed little blue spirit/ wisp things floating all around Life and the Jerry person.

"Um, Y/n. What are those blue things?" Epel asked.

"Those are souls who have yet to live. When they're ready to live and gain a mortal form, Life will send them off randomly to be born," Y/n explained.

"Wow, so what is this place called?" Azul asked.

"It goes by many names, "The beginning" " The cradle", and my personal favorite "The Great Before," Death listed off.

"Oh, we call it the Youth seminar now, Death. Rebranding and all that," Jerry added, as Life was being covered in spirits.

Many of the spirits gathered and climbed up Life, laughing and all trying to talk to Life all at Once. Like a bunch of small children trying to gain the attention of their favorite parent. Some were even curious enough to gather around the NRC boys.

Riddle, Epel, and Rook let the souls get close and even held a few. While Leona would simply flick them off him, the souls would just laugh it off unharmed. As Idia and Ortho watched, they noticed that the souls would cower away from Y/n.

Death tried to smile it off, but their eyes couldn't quite hide the slight hurt. So Ortho quickly floated over to Death and bear-hugged their torso. Death was surprised but smiled softly as they nervesly returned the action. Death eventually turned to Life and explained the reason behind their trip, and that was to have Ortho reincarnated. Idia, Ortho, and the others gasped in surprise.

"So I'm going to live out the anime dream!" Ortho awed.

"Well, you won't remember your previous life. But we will let you choose a world to live in. So choose wisely," Life said. " But what is this, we're still at the entrance. Please come upstairs for some drinks and snacks," Life smiled as he offered a hand to Death.

Azul, Idia, and Leona groaned as they looked up at the seemingly infinite flights of stairs. Jerry chuckled and altered their form to be a four-legged creature. Who scooped up the boys and placed them onto their backs, as the souls happily climbed on as well.

They slowly began to rise up the flights, as the mortals looked around in awe. Hundreds of strange-looking pavilions, all in different shapes and sizes.

"Um, Mr.Life, if I may ask? What are those strange structures?" Azul asked.

"Oh those are were the souls get their personality," Life explained as he turned and gather 4 souls from Jerry. " You four can be excitable."

The four sous went through the pavilion and came out super happy and bouncy.

"And you bunch can be aloof," Jerry said as they sent the rest of the souls into a different Pavillion.

"Wait so were not born with our own personality?" Vil asked.

"Well to be fair, when you live, your personality can change due to your environment and experiences," Death explained.

"And we arrived at the top, our stop is here," Jerry said as they see the boys down.

The boys turned to see a large table with a king's worthy feast set up for them. "How long was this up here?" Leona asked.

"Oh not long. I asked Jerry to set a spread for you all," Life said as another abstract Pikaso creature appeared. "Thank you, Jerry."

"No problem boss," Jerry smiled.

"Are they just all named Jerry?" Azul asked.

"There used to be a Terry, but he works for death now," Life smiled as Death grimaced a bit.

"I don't wanna talk about Terry," Death mumbled. "Shrouds, you have something to discuss with Life."

The brothers nodded and left with Life to the farther end of the room. After much discussion and conversation, Ortho picked a world he would like to live in. Even though Idia was happy it was a pretty safe and peaceful world, he was still nervous about letting go of his brother again.

Life walked over to a large pool that was right underneath the orb of light. With a wave of his staff, the orb began to glow a pure gold color as the pool began to ripple as an image began to appear with a watery surface.

As Idia and Ortho stood at the edge of the pool, Idia noticed his brother tremble slightly.

"Big brother, I'm a little scared," Ortho said as he fiddled with the pendant that Life gave him.

"I'll go as far as I can with you," Idia smiled.

The two fell forward and into the void of space, as they began falling towards the chosen planet. Idia slowly opened his eyes only to feel like he was actually flying. Ortho soon opened his eyes as he awed the planet they were flying to. The two laughed as they did superhero poses as they flew towards the planet when the pendant began to glow.

"I'll make you proud!" Ortho said with a nervous, but determined smile.

"I know you will, you'll be amazing," Idia said as the two hands slowly were being pulled apart.

Soon Ortho and Idia had to let go as Ortho zoomed ahead to the planet below.

__________________________

Idia suddenly Woke up to find himself back in his dorm. No matter how much he thought back on his experiences, he can't help but think it was nothing more than a dream.

"It's about time you woke up. Come on you still have to help fix Ramshackle," Robot Ortho smiled.

"Ugh, alright. I'll dropbox the blueprints to you," Idia groaned as he slipped out of bed.

"You're not coming outside?" Ortho asked.

"No way," Idia said as he sat at his computer.

"Alright," Ortho sighed as he exited the room.

As Idia began to type away, the memory resurfaced in his mind, as Real Ortho's words echoed in his ears. So muster up some confidence and slowly made his way out of his dorm, to help out in person.

[mountttmase]

A Mountain To Climb - Part Ten

Note - just want to apologise for the last chapter 😂 but thank you all so much for talking to me about it I’ve loved hearing what everyone thinks. I hope you like this chapter too and feedback is always appreciated

Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader

Word count - 3.4k

Warnings - series will contain fluff, smut & angst

Masterlist

The pain you felt was the same pain you told yourself you’d never feel again. It was everywhere, you head thumping, as your heart raced. Your skin hurt to touch and the sadness was emanating from deep in your tummy to the point you felt sick.

It was Sunday, and you were still heartbroken about everything that had happened. He hadn’t tried to reach out to you once and you hadn’t dared trying to speak to him considering how angry you’d made him. Each time you pictured his face you began to cry, knowing how much you’d upset him hurt you more than anything he’d said to you.

You’d barely slept since you’d got back early that Saturday morning, distracting yourself with anything you could think of so you wouldn’t think about what had happened. In the end you deep cleaned your whole flat until it was spotless, rearranging some of your furniture and lighting some new candles so everything felt a bit calmer and welcoming.

You hadn’t slept much that night either, finally falling asleep with your air pods in so you could listen to a podcast and not your racing thoughts and when morning came around, you struggled to leave your bed. It was just gone mid day by the time you made it out and even though your tummy was crying out for food, you couldn’t bring yourself to eat and chose to take a quick shower instead.

You caught sight of yourself in the mirror as you stepped out, small bruises forming on the sides of your hips bringing back the memories of his hands all over you so you quickly got wrapped up in a towel and changed so you didn’t have to see them anymore.

You were antsy for most of the afternoon, not knowing what you should do to distract yourself and when your phone started ringing, your heart almost leapt from your throat thinking it was Mason, but instead you saw it was Freya. You weren’t sure if it was better or worse it being her knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep your composure up with her.

‘Hey Frey’ you answered, your voice wobbly and you bit your lip to try and keep the sobs back.

‘Oh baby. I was just calling to check you’re alright. I take it you’ve seen it’ she told you with a soft voice but you were instantly confused.

‘Seen what?’ You uttered, confused as to what she might be referring to but the tone of her voice made you think you might know who it was about.

‘Max’s post. You sound upset I thought you’d seen it’ she told you and you quickly put her in loudspeaker before pulling up his instagram. You knew you should of blocked him a long time ago but you could never bring yourself to do it. You clicked on the newest post and your heart stopped as you took it in, a shocked gasp falling from your lips but you weren’t upset at all, you were angry.

‘Well that’s just fucking brilliant’ you laughed bitterly and you could tell she was about to speak when there was a knock at your front door. ‘Um I’ll call you back in a sec Frey, someone’s at my door’ you told her and after a quick goodbye you pulled your front door open to reveal a nervous Mason. He couldn’t of picked a worse time if he’d tried and your heart hammered as you looked at him.

‘Hey’ he breathed but you didn’t reply or move a muscle which caused him to shuffle uncomfortably. ‘I uh, I was just bringing your stuff back that you left at mine’ he told you quietly, handing you your bag full of clothes and other bits you’d left at his for Saturday when you were supposed to of gone to his after Bens. ‘I was hoping maybe we could talk?’

‘I don’t think so’ you told him, placing your bag on the floor and averting you eyes to the side of him.

‘Please Y/n’

‘No I don’t want to’ you mumbled, your lip trembling as you tried to hold yourself together but you being firm with him.

‘Why are you being like this?’

‘Cause I don’t need this, and I don’t need you. So why don’t you go back to your nice house with your nice friends and your nice life and just leave me out of it’

‘You don’t mean that’

‘Oh I really do Mason’ you told him sternly, your anger bubbling to the surface and even though it was nothing to do with him, you needed someone to take it out on. Still hurt from the words he threw at you the other day and upset with yourself from the way you’d treated him. Everything now coming to a head and you couldn’t stop the words streaming from your lips. ‘I never asked for any of this. You were the one that kept on at me even though I told you I didn’t want friends and now look’

‘I was trying to help you’ he fought back, his hands balled into fists at his sides but you were seeing red.

‘I’m not some poor thing that needs to be saved, s-some project for you to fix. I was perfectly happy before you came along and I’ll be even happier once you piss off out of my life again!’ You shouted, tears flowing down your cheeks before you slammed the door in his face.

You fell to the floor, sobbing your heart out into your hands as you pulled your knees up to your chest. You weren’t sure how long you sat there for, finally letting out all of your emotions after a long weekend of stress. Your throat was sore, your brain aching and your chest felt like it was caving in. The only persons comfort you wanted was the same one you’d just sent away.

Your phone started ringing again, and you crawled over to see Freya calling you back, but you didn’t have time to compose yourself before you answered and she heard you sniffles and cries as you answered with a hoarse voice.

‘Y/n? Are you alright, what’s happened?’ She asked and you sobbed a little bit harder. ‘Oh baby, take just some deep breaths it’s alright’

‘It’s n-not. I’ve f-fucked everything’

‘You haven’t. Max was a piece of shit he’s really not worth getting this upset about’

‘It’s not h-him. It’s Mason’ you cried, sobbing again but you willed yourself to calm down so you could speak to her properly. ‘I’ve ruined e-everything’

You heard the FaceTime coming through and you quickly accepted even though you knew you looked like hell and Freya’s sympathetic pout only confirmed this.

‘Oh honey, what’s happened? Talk to me’

‘I did what you said’ you laughed ‘I took a chance and I kissed him’

‘And that’s bad?’

‘What’s come after is yes’ you huffed ‘we sort of slept together too’ you told her shyly and her eyes widened at your response. ‘But I freaked out and left after. He caught me on the way out and flipped out at me. I really hurt him Frey’ your voice breaking and she gave you a sympathetic look.

‘I’m sure things aren’t as bad as they seem, he probably just said things in the heat of the moment. I’m sure if you give him a few days to calm down you can explain’

‘That’s the thing though. He just showed up and I sent him away’ you sobbed. ‘Told him I didn’t need him in my life. What the fuck is wrong with me? All I’ve ever done is push him away and when we finally get somewhere I can’t handle it’

‘Y/n I’m so sorry, I wish I could give you a big hug’ she told you. ‘I’m almost done with my exams yeah? Three weeks and I’ll be back for the weekend and I’ll help you put it right okay?’

‘Okay’ you hiccuped, thankful she wasn’t being hard on you.

‘Just try and get some sleep or something yeah? Call in sick tomorrow if you have to’ she laughed and you smiled for the first time in days.

You didn’t call in sick, but you did request to work from home for the next few weeks as the thought of leaving your house filled you with dread. In reality it probably did you more harm than good so on the third week you were back to your office, and even though you still felt awful it felt good to get some air and be back in a routine.

You avoided anything Mason related at all costs, not checking up on the games or stalking his instagram but you always caught yourself thinking about him and if he was going okay. Was he as sad as you were? Did he regret meeting you? Had he given up on you like he’d told you? You didn’t want to think about the possibility of that but you saw no way of the pair of you getting passed what you’d said and done at this moment in time.

It felt like a lifetime before Freya was dragging her suitcase up to you flat and enveloping you in a hug you so desperately needed.

‘Right I want you to start from the top’ she told you as you sat on the sofa, and you huffed before getting into it telling her exactly what happened. From the game of spin the bottle all the way to running out of Bens front door. She was looking at you sympathetically but you knew that’s not what you needed right now.

‘Frey, I think I need some tough love. Can you just tell me how awful I’ve been please’ you laughed and she shook her head.

‘Tell me what happened when he showed up here?’

‘He had my bag that I’d left at his. I was supposed to be spending Saturday with him at his but that obviously never happened. He asked if we could talk and I basically told him no, that I was fine before he came along and I wanted him to leave’ you sighed

‘But that’s not true is it’

‘No’ you sobbed and she pulled you into her arms.

‘Why’d you do it love? Why are you trying so hard to fight him off?’

You didn’t have an answer for her really, you felt like you’d overused the expression I’m scared but it was how you felt. You’d told yourself you didn’t want anymore friends and never wanted a relationship again yet you’d let Mason into your life

‘I don’t know. Maybe I like to self sabotage? It’s like I’ve finally found someone I feel like I can take a breath around and I ruin it for myself’

‘You can fix this, y/n. He came to to try and make it right that’s got to mean something’

‘I don’t know if it’s too late for that’ you sighed. ‘I was angry at the whole Max thing and he turned up at the wrong time’

‘Do you wanna talk about Max?’

‘Not really’ you laughed and she sat up with a determined smile.

‘Well I’m not gonna let you sit here like this all the time. So here’s the plan’ she told you, wiping your eyes before you load you head on her shoulder. ‘I’ll let you be sad for tonight, but tomorrow I’m taking you out, we’ll get our hair done, nails done, maybe a cheeky facial if we’ve got time. Then we can go shopping for something to wear when we go to dinner yeah? Then we can drink to our heart’s content and nurse each other back to health on Sunday’

‘Sounds like a plan’ you smiled, thankful you had her around.

Even though she’d given you permission to be sad, you didn’t want to ruin her weekend here so you kept yourself in a good mood. She made sure you got an early night and in the morning the pair of you were the first appointments in the hair salon. You were considering doing something drastic but Mason always told your he loved your hair as it was so you were reluctant to change anything. After a chat with the stylist you settled on some extra layers and a few highlights towards the bottom and even though it was subtle you felt like a new woman.

‘Oh hello’ Freya winked as she saw you, and you whistled at her as you caught sight of her new hair.

‘Hello yourself’ you laughed as you touched her much shorter hair. ‘This is gorgeous I love it’

‘Yeah, I thought it was time for a change’ she winked before walking off to pay for the pair of you. You promised you would pay when you got your nails done but the longer you sat the the more unsure you were of what colour to pick. Blue was an obvious no no, red made you think of the jumper you wore when you met him for a walk and green bought you back to the skirt you wore the night it all went wrong. In the end, you settled on black as it reflected how you felt and the pair of you laughed and chatted away the whole time, all thoughts of Mason in the back of your mind.

‘Facials shouldn’t take long then we’ll get lunch yeah?’ Freya told you as she led you into a fancy beauty spa where you were poked prodded and smoothed out until your skin felt as good as new and you finally started to feel yourself again.

‘Where are we going for dinner tonight?’ You questioned but Freya as you sat eating lunch but she was giving you a coy look.

‘It’s a surprise, but it’s fancy as fuck so we need something classy to wear?’

‘Are we talking classy classy, or sexy classy?’

‘Sexy classy, obviously’ she tutted whilst rolling her eyes before you attacked the shops. Freya ended up choosing a black strapy dress with corset detailing but you were finding it much harder to choose something. You weren’t feeling dressy at all and and everything you tried didn’t seem to work for you so you told Freya you’d find something at home.

She sat with you at home until you’d picked out something you liked, choosing wide black trousers and an off the shoulder top which was far more reserved than you usually went for but you weren’t in the mood to be showing loads of skin.

Freya didn’t lie, the restaurant you were in was probably the nicest place you’d ever been in and you didn’t expect any less from the part of London you were in. The pair of you tried to behave but Freya seemed to be on a mission to make you laugh and by the time you’d finished your food you were so thankful for her coming to help cheer you up.

‘I’m just popping to the loo and we’ll go she winked, quickly slipping off and you used the time she was gone to check your phone. You weren’t sure what for, you only ever heard from Freya and Mason when things were different so you weren’t surprised to see the only notification waiting for you was from just eat.

Your eyes wondered up, taking a glance around at everyone until they fell on Mason, sat opposite a head of long blonde hair and your heart fell into your stomach. Thankfully Freya was was back but she caught onto your glossy eyes immediately.

‘Hey, what’s happened?’

‘Can we just go’ you whispered, scrambling to get your stuff together, trying to avoid looking at him again but you couldn’t and Freya followed your line of sight to notice him immediately.

‘Fuck’ she breathed grabbing your hand instantly and pulling you through the maze of tables. You knew you shouldn’t but but chanced a look back at him slyly, not expecting his eyes to be looking back into yours and you choked back a sob as you looked away quickly.

Freya pulled you to the taxi rank, waiting for one to pull up and your eyes were on the restaurant door as Mason appeared outside, head frantically looking around until he spotted you and made his way over.

‘Help’ you panicked but a taxi pulled up at just the right time and you slid yourself into the back seat.

‘Just wait here yeah? I’ll talk to him’ she told you and you had no time to protest as she turned to face him. You had no idea what the pair of them were saying and you were glad you couldn’t hear his voice as you knew you’d only cry even more if you could.

She was quick to slip back inside the taxi, gripping your hand the whole way home and even though you wanted to ask what was said you kept quiet. It wasn’t until you were both tucked up in bed with your head resting on her shoulder that you asked her what had been said.

‘The girl he was with? That’s Bens sister, it wasn’t a date, love. He was on a table of four and Ben was sat next to her on the other side’ she told you and relief flooded your veins. ‘He really wants to talk to you’

‘I feel so stupid’ you laughed

‘Look, it’s none of my business but as your best friend you know I’m about to stick my nose in. You can’t live in fear forever just because of what’s happened in the past. Not everyone will treat you like dirt and I should be living proof of that you know? There are good people out there babe and I know he made you happy. You carried yourself differently, you spoke with a smile and yeah it might not work out how you want it to but that’s life sometimes. Please don’t deny yourself happiness because of what if’s that really is no way to live’ she told you softly and you nodded gently as hot tears rolled from your eyes, her words finally sinking in. ‘You do want him don’t you? Just be honest with yourself’

‘I do, yeah’ you croaked, nodding your head as your tears fell into your lap. ‘I really miss him’

‘Good cause that’s what I told him’ she laughed and your head shot up to look at her.

‘You what?’

‘I know you, y/n. You don’t let anyone get that close and I know you know you’ve made a mistake that you have to fix. You want to fix it right?’

‘I do, but…’

‘What, love?’ She asked you gently, squeezing your hand for a bit of support.

‘I feel like I’ve pushed him too far. Like I’m scared to talk to him in case he brushes me off’

‘Do you think he would of run after you tonight if he didn’t want to talk?’ She told you gently and all you could do was shrug your shoulders. ‘Look I’m not saying you have to go off tomorrow and get him back. If you need time then take it but I promise you he’s ready and waiting for you. He told me as much’ she laughed and you felt your heart rate speed up. ‘The only reason he’s not spoken to you yet is because he didn’t wanna push you. He’s waiting till you’re ready’

‘Even after I shouted at him when he came here?’

‘Even after that’ she told you, resting her head on yours. ‘He knows you pretty well too, he knows your scared’

‘I think I’m ready now’ you laughed, your voice still thick with emotion as you cuddled into your best friend.

‘I so proud of you’ she told you gently and you gave each other a big squeeze, knowing you were potentially at the end of all this.

‘Thank you Frey’ you whispered and she gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before the two of you snuggled down, sleep taking over you quickly tonight as good thoughts of Mason filled your head.

Tagged: @alwaysclassyeagle @ricsaigaslec @cinderellawithashoe @vip-access @majx00 @chelseagirl98 @mountpulisic @chaotic-taco-collector-blog

[where-dreamers-go]

“A Walk Amongst Emotions” Dick Grayson x Reader

(A/N: Part Five, here we are! It’s been a while because of those holidays. Anyway, 1966 Dick Grayson soulmate au series! I have a soft spot for this series. And it’s almost summer break for the pair!!!

Warnings: Reader has social anxiety, use of (Y/N), some angst, and fluff. The amount of effort I put in for these titles…?

Word Count: 4,862 words)

<- Previous

~~~

A lovely weekend afternoon and all was friendly inside the Wayne Manor. Tea had long since been poured and sipped from small cups. Conversations continued to flow. Everyone was civil, even over tea.

Not one mention of sharing secrets or punishments. No hints either.

Two households spending an afternoon together. Only the afternoon.

However, Dick and yourself were determined to have more than an hour.

It’s almost weird being here with my guardian again. You thought as you sat on the edge of a couch cushion. It feels like forever.

A smile lit up Dick’s face as he sat opposite from you, sitting on the ottoman.

Despite what had happened over the past couple of weeks, you were okay.

It was a comfort to be back inside the manor. Even with all its vastness and unknown areas, you found it homey.

Today’s not the day he’ll get to show me the music room. He hasn’t said much about it. Maybe another day.

One more week of school was left before summer break. Such a tease.

Between you and Dick sat the coffee table with a pile of puzzle pieces on top. Ones you had seen countless times before.

What better way to have more time together than working on a jigsaw puzzle? It was something you two had been eager to do when brainstorming on an activity over the phone. So you had brought over one of your own. Quite happily too.

Tea and snacks were gone.

Teamwork was in action. Only the pair of you.

Picking out any edge pieces, you set them aside to be put together first. It was a good starting point. If you wanted to get fancy then you’d separate by shape and color next.

You peered up and saw Dick’s curious expression.

“I have a system,” you stately firmly.

“I can see that.” Dick watched as your fingers worked across the table in quick succession. “Let me know when you want me to help.”

“Just jump in there,” you encouraged. “There’s a thousand pieces. It shouldn’t take us too long.”

“There’s a thousand,” he urged.

“It’s less than five thousand.”

“That’s true.” He inched closer.

You smiled at him. “Have you done a five thousand piece puzzle before?”

Blue eyes glanced up. “Have you ever put together a puzzle upside down?”

“No. The blood would rush to my head.”

“What? No.” Dick chuckled. “The puzzle.”

“Oh.”

You felt as head rose up your neck.

Of course that’s what he meant.

“Uh, that’s a ‘no’.”

Leaning in, Dick whispered, “I have and it wasn’t my idea.”

“I think I can guess who’s.”

He raised both eyebrows for a second of acknowledgement. A faint grin soon following suit.

Why on Earth would Mister Wayne think of completing a puzzle with its picture down in the first place? You thought to yourself.

As if reading your expression clearly, most likely, Dick shrugged.

“Was it fun?” You handed him a corner piece.

“Uh.” He glanced over to Mister Wayne beside you. “You might call it, uh, mental exercise.”

“Okay.” You bit back a grin.

The two of you shuffled through more small pieces. Rearranging them; almost how Mister Wayne and Dick traded seats so the puzzle could be tackled form either side of the table.

Around you, the adults were in midst of small talk. Again.

Honestly, you tuned them out. Mostly. They were right next to you after all. It was more as if their words were fading in and out of your ears like the tide. A skill, you could perhaps call it, after years of trying to focus on tasks while others made noise or moved about. It was still difficult to do.

Moving the jigsaw pieces to designated areas of a table came as familiar motions, almost automatic. Hand-eye coordination keeping up as you spotted edge pieces. Easy and quick movements. Too quick in fact.

Your fingers plucked your soulmate’s fingers on accident.

“Oops! Sorry.”

“Sorry.”

Making light of the situation, you grabbed his hand and shook it. “Hey, how are you?”

Dick chuckled, “I’m fine.”

Along the couch and all so familiar, the shaking of soft laughter filled the space. Unrestrained and genuine reactions.

The smile you shared with Dick was all the more joyful. Admittedly one of your favorite sights on any day. Because he was your friend, of course.

You released his hand and rapidly shifted through more pieces.

When you took a peek, you saw a silly grin remaining on Dick’s face as he searched for pieces to sort or piece together.

A flutter of what you deemed as ‘proud satisfaction’ appeared in your chest at the sight.

You could get used to that; making Dick smile.

I might not be a hero, but making someone happy still means a lot. It’s a special kind of reward.

Together, the pair of you made progress by connecting all of the edge pieces. Just as planned. A great team so far.

One of the best teammates I’ve ever had. In general. Lucy is still number one for saving me during that presentation. Eh, you practically shuttered at the merely remembering. Never again. This is a hundred times easier.

The day, so far, had gone smoothly. Sure, the first couple of minutes had you uneasy with anxious fears of possible scenarios involving your guardian’s recent choices. Those fears were real and highly unlikely to become reality inside the Wayne Manor.

Greetings had been cheerful and polite.

You, however, did hold back from hugging your soulmate in front of your guardian. Unfortunately with them there, you weren’t comfortable enough to show much affection to Dick. It was as if an itch covered your skin underneath a microscope. Quite uncomfortable.

But they can’t comment much about us working on a puzzle, you thought in confidence.

With a small click, you separated two pieces that did not fit together.

That’s weird how it does that in the box. You squinted at another set of pieces.

“(Y/N), sit up straight.” Your guardian tapped your shoulder.

Your body did as instructed automatically.

Flashing of something negative passed through your soulmate bond.

A sharpness in Dick’s eyes hardened his features as he looked passed you to your guardian. Targeted and unhidden. A disliking of the order given to you. His reaction was not backed by seeking fairness, but rather something more.

You were unsure of Dick’s thoughts, but you definitely knew your own.

Uh. How am I supposed to reach, then? I’m not gonna sit on the floor.

Keeping your wits about you, you chose not to reply. Play it safe and smart.

On the coffee table, the puzzle was ignored as Dick slowly unclenched his fists.

Is he okay?

Reaching across the surface, you lightly touched his hand.

Upon gaining Dick’s attention, you mouthed, ‘Are you okay?’

He nodded briefly and gave your fingers a squeeze.

Hmmm. That was quite the look though. He might still be irritated with my guardian, I guess.

Both you and Dick slowly pulled your hands a part.

“It took our combined efforts, but his sister agreed to host at her apartment.” Your guardian announced in triumph. “She finished decorating just last week. She should be proud to share her new space.”

Share? More like show off.

“That’s lovely,” Mrs. Cooper commented politely.

You could had snorted with a laugh.

“The plan is for it to be late in the summer. That way some of us don’t have to worry about our vacation plans.”

At your guardian’s words, you felt a wave of panicked guilt. You had forgotten something.

“(Y/N) and I leave Gotham City during their summer break.”

“What? When do you leave?” Dick asked quickly.

“I forgot,” you muttered and completely slouched forward over your knees.

Of all things to forget. You thought and scrambled to remember details off of your calendar at home.

“Three days after the end of school. So, I have two free days. I think it’s Saturday when we leave.” You looked up in thought and turned to check with your guardian.

“It’s Saturday.” They confirmed. “We’ll have to beat the traffic. You’ll have to get up early like a school day.”

Turning back to face Dick, you mouthed a very unenthusiastic, ‘Yay’.

Gaze softer, unsure, Dick glanced at Mister Wayne before returning to you.

“Will I be able to see you before you leave?” Your soulmate asked tentatively.

An almost clenching in your chest left you hiding your equally uneasy thought of disappointment and separation.

“Oh, I’m sure you two can see each other,” your guardian said before they directed their attention back to Mrs. Cooper. “It’s such a lovely little house my cousin has. There’s a porch and screen doors.”

Beside you, Mister Wayne leaned towards the coffee table.

“I’ll arrange a day for you two.” Mister Wayne said in a hushed tone.

Dick and yourself exchanged hopeful smiles.

I guess we don’t have to worry about anything. You thought. But it shouldn’t be too bad. It’s not forever. But I somehow forgot about the beach house? We went last year too. Way to be last minute!

You felt ridiculous.

Everything would be all right, you were certain. Meanwhile, you felt a distress in yourself and within your soulmate.

You just dearly hoped Dick had not started planning out the summer with your company in mind. You would surely feel guilty then.

Luckily, and hopefully, him reading your essay would entertain him. Dick held a curious excitement about it. As in, he had rushed to store the papers in his room upon you handing it to him when you arrived.

At least you knew Dick wouldn’t misplace it.

And to think I was going to give him my essay after the school year was over. You sighed quietly. Everything’s fine.

Time trudged by. Sneaking every tick and tock as jigsaw pieces were assembled. The coffee table decorated in color and multiple piles of lonely pieces.

Dick and yourself were making progress with the puzzle. Happily shifting the pieces around. Content to work together.

“All right,” you guardian directed their attention to you. “Find a stopping point. We still have to pick up a few things.”

“Oh. Okay.” Your shoulders dropped.

“We have a couple of hours before my parents are expecting us.”

“Oh.” You dropped a puzzle piece.

I forgot! Gosh, where’s my mind lately?

Looking over the unfinished puzzle, you were stumped.

“Um…” You scratched your arm absentmindedly. “Can we move it?”

“If we’re careful.”

“Move it where?” Mrs. Cooper inquired.

“My room.” Dick answered with a tilt of his head.

“It’ll fall a part,” your guardian interjected.

“Not if we slide the finished pieces onto a board.” Mister Wayne countered.

“Then we can move it any where,” Dick announced excitedly. “Great idea, Bruce.”

You smiled and it only widened when Dick glanced your way before immediately ducking his head.

“We can take care of that later. Another time, the two of you can resume where you left off.” Mister Wayne added.

“Fantastic.” Your guardian clapped their hands once before standing from the couch. “Thank you so much for the tea.”

“It was our pleasure.” Mister Wayne said as he joined Mrs. Cooper and your guardian standing. He sidestepped to be beside the furniture.

If it wasn’t for your reflexes and leaning back, your guardian would had completely pushed passed your seated form.

Whoa. It’s like trying not to get hit by a train’s caboose. You thought.

“Let’s go, (Y/N).” Said your guardian who was half way to the door with the other adults.

“Like the wind.” You exaggerated lightly and stood to your feet. Stretching your back a little.

In no exaggeration at all, Dick waited to walk you out. All gentlemanly and hiding a secret smile.

“What?” You smoothed down any wrinkles on your clothes.

“You.”

“What about me?”

“The expression you made,” he whispered, “when you guardian walked by.”

“Oops.”

Dick smiled openly as his fingers brushed your own.

“Will you work on the puzzle during the summer?” You asked and linked your pinky finger with his discreetly.

“Not without you.”

“You could. I wouldn’t mind.”

“I’ll wait.”

“Me too.”

✧ ✧ ✧

A week of school had come and gone. The end of the school year had finally passed.

Good news for many.

With warm weather more prominent, people of Gotham City enjoyed it wholeheartedly.

For Dick Grayson, it was the day. A day to spend with his soulmate, his good friend and crush.

Yet the youth had to wait.

The batmobile zoomed down a familiar road.

Bonding would have to wait.

The dynamic duo were solving a case as swiftly as possible. Thankfully there was still time. The criminal’s hideout would be their last stop.

Lest they’d be scolded by Aunt Harriet upon their return to the manor.

We’re gonna catch ‘em, Robin thought in determination. We’ll be sure to make it quick too. He hit his palm. They won’t know what hit them.

✧ ✧ ✧

Sitting at the edge of your bed, quiet kept you company. Also Sir Hopps, your loyal blue bunny companion.

Comforting sunshine warmed your toes as the curtains remained pushed aside.

Since midmorning, you had been aware of the muffled juggling of emotions from your soulmate. You deemed it safe to assume that Dick was busy wearing green and red.

Is it okay that he keeps getting annoyed? You couldn’t help but to smirk at the thought of his little pout. It’s better than being scared or mad. He must be fine though.

Maybe your closeness with him gave you the thought, the possible explanation. The sneak peek into his specific feelings.

Dick is probably getting impatient. I hope he knows I don’t mind waiting a little longer. We’re just going to the park…not an event or anything. You thought with a quick glance to the clock. Or maybe he can’t wait?

A quiet sigh left you.

Both yourself and Sir Hopps observed the empty luggage bag sitting near the closet. A handwritten list sat atop of it; a reminder of the summer trip ahead of you. One full of sand, water, and almost a full house of people. No visits to the homey Wayne Manor. If luck was on your side, you might have a phone call to your soulmate.

Even without school, he could still be busy. But at least none of us have homework! You thought and stuck your tongue out at the paper remanences of your last semester. It’s summertime!

✧ ✧ ✧

“Don’t they know they have the whole summer to talk over lunch?” Aunt Harriet voiced from behind the steering wheel of her car.

“I suppose.” Dick tapped his fingers along the passenger side’s door. The youthful ward had only. Been out of his costume for a little over fifteen minutes.

“It’s such a pretty day too.”

“Thank you, Aunt Harriet, for offering to drive us to the park.”

“You’re welcome, Dick.” She smiled and soon added, “To be honest, I really wanted to see (Y/N) before they leave for the entire summer. Oh, I know you must be so disappointed.”

Shoulders slumping, Dick sighed.

“The summer vacations always pass quickly. You’ll see them again in no time.”

“I know.”

Out of the window, Dick recognized a familiar figure.

“I see them.” He announced happily.

“Goodness,” Aunt Harriet had already turned on the turn signal. “Don’t jump out of the car, Dick.”

“I won’t.”

Sparks and bubbles of joy filled his chest. The best feeling he had all day. Personally. Well worth the wait and punches he exchanged earlier.

How will I feel when I see them after summer vacation? Dick thought as the car pulled into the residential area. Happy for sure…or maybe surprised because it’ll feel like forever. Golly, knowing your soulmate is really something else.

A click of a door opening gave Dick another jolt of positive emotions.

“Hi, Mrs. Cooper,” you slid into the backseat and closed the door.

“Hi, dear. I hope you weren’t waiting too long.”

“No. It’s all right.” You buckled yourself in before tapping the back fo the passenger’s seat. “Hi, Dick.”

“Hi.” The youthful ward sent his soulmate a wide smile. “How are you?”

“Pretty good. What about you? Are you letting Mrs. Cooper pick the radio station today?”

“He is.”

Aunt Harriet focused on her driving. Safe as always.

Gotham City held many sights and places. Tall and even the easily ignored. Traffic moved steadily.

The car was parked near somewhere close by the park.

Upon exiting the vehicle, Aunt Harriet grabbed a book she brought along to read and Dick grabbed your hand.

Holding your hand had become a habit he did not expect. He liked it of course, very much so. It was a simple gesture on the surface with much unspoken feelings beneath.

This is real different than the first time we held hands, Dick thought. That was the first time we actually met! At least we haven’t been in that situation again—with Penguin. Things would be a little different now.

A gentle squeeze on his hand and he turned his attention to his soulmate. Curious eyes watching him, never judgmental or uncaring.

“How has your day been so far?” You asked.

Oh, Dick had to think of a clever answer. Nothing too close to his masked persona. Nothing too heavily a lie. He didn’t like giving you an excuse.

“Fine. Bruce and I did get caught up in conversations with others, which is why I’m sorry for being late to pick you up.”

“It’s not a problem. We’re still here, aren’t we?”

“We are.”

“Then we’re fine. Your aunt gets to read her book and we get to wander around the park with no worries.”

No worries, Dick thought, yes. It keeps getting better. He sent you an easy smile. Who knew I’d be holding hands with my soulmate?

The pair of you walked on, in no rush or going in any specific direction. Cloud cover protected eyes from the brightest of the sun’s rays. A slight breeze kept you both comfortable. The perfect day off.

Less than a day to spend time together.

That was not something Dick wanted to be reminded of.

All the schoolwork, studying, your ridiculous punishment and you two can’t be together during the summer. It could be considered unfair. Dick surely was ill-prepared for the news.

I’ll miss quiet moments with them too, whether we’re working on something or not. He thought as he looked at the grass ahead of their path.

“Your knuckles are a little red.” You muttered, eyes downcast. “Did you accidentally hit a wall or something?”

No, he thought, I missed the crook and the wall, but I didn’t miss the metal tray.

“Yeah,” he answered, “but not a wall.”

“Oh, good. Because that hurts…especially if your hand was moving fast.”

He tried reading your face and asked, “Have you hit a wall?”

Holding his hand between both of yours, your shoulders raised defensively. “It was an accident. I was just walking out of the bathroom, turned too quickly, and BAM.”

“Today?”

“No,” you answered almost playfully.

“Yesterday?”

“…Yes.”

“Are you okay?”

“Sure. I’ve had worse.”

Dick stopped walking, alarm rising in his chest.

Worse? What happened? Was that before we met?

You held his hand under your chest, looking at him in slight panic.

“No, no, no,” you said quickly, “I meant hitting my funny bone or my toe against a table. It’s okay. I mean…sure I’ve gotten hurt before, but who hasn’t? Something minor.”

Exhaling slowly eased his new worries.

“I’m sorry.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I overreacted a little.”

“Teeny tiny bit.”

Of course you knew, you felt Dick’s emotions before he could keep them in check.

They’re fine at home. They’re fine now.

“Come on,” you tugged on his hand. “I promise I’m not that clumsy. I’ve never dropped my textbooks while tripping.”

“That’s good.” Dick couldn’t help but to smile.

The two of you begun walking again. A breeze to your side. Feet walking in step of the other’s. Keeping a distance from other park visitors.

“Charlotte tripped the other day leaving math.” You mentioned casually.

“Is she alright?”

“Yeah…I caught her with my backpack…or rather she caught herself on my backpack on me at the doorway.”

“…Okay.” Dick cracked a smile at your thoughtful gaze.

“School’s weird.”

“Don’t let Bruce hear you say that.”

Twisting around, you started walking backwards. “But it’s true. Not just the social stuff. We learn things in a classroom and then go home to do more on our own. Then the next thing we know, it’s the end of the school year and all I have are tons of notes and bags under my eyes.”

“But we learned a lot.”

“Sure, but do I physically have anything from the results? Like a plant or,” you gestured widely, “a new skill or a project that will help others and the environment for years to come?”

“You could still do those things if you want.”

“If I have the time…or actually remember.” You mumbled, “I didn’t remember about the beach house.”

A weighty, almost cool, feeling came through the soulmate bond. One Dick recognized from moments where he thought he didn’t try hard enough as Robin when it counted. It always mattered to him.

Dick watched as you dragged your shoes through the grass. Crestfallen and too critical of yourself.

The urge to make you fell better took hold of him. To be there for you. No obstacle in his way, only to find the right words. Hopefully.

“There’s a bright side,” stated Dick.

“No school?”

“Right. And no Gotham City events with lots of people.”

He smiled victoriously when you perked up at his words. His pacing kept him closer to you, still backwards in your movements.

“No dinner parties where you don’t know half of the guests. No essays or homework.”

Surging warmth of his own emotions cycled between you both.

“You don’t even have to carry a pile of books if you don’t want to.”

“Okay, okay, okay.” You swung his hand with yours around in the air. “I just wished I would’ve remembered to tell you.”

“But then you would’ve had to tell me instead of your guardian announcing it like the best holiday of the year.”

“Oh, yeah.”

He had found the right words.

You stopped walking and Dick joined you easily. The breeze moving the nearby trees carried murmurs of others. None of which he paid much mind to because he focused on you. Giving you his honesty.

“Even though I wish we could spend more time together; I know you’ll have fun at the beach. It might not be Gotham City’s or have good waves, but you’ll have the opportunity to relax.”

A curve of your lips held promises to your future vacation.

“Not gonna lie,” you reached up with a hand for a moment and tucked a loose strand of Dick’s hair back in place.

He swallowed.

“I’m really looking forward to sleeping through most of the morning.”

“Right.”

That breeze feels really good right now, he thought as heat creeped up his neck.

“So, uh, what do you like to do at the beach?” He asked and wondered if they should walk around more. Then perhaps you wouldn’t notice him overheating.

“Besides playing in the water.” Your gaze wandered as you thought. “Eating ice cream and bird watching.”

“Which ones do they have there? Birds, I mean.”

“Usually mourning doves, cattle egrets, and seagulls.”

“Cattle egrets?”

“They’re mostly white, maybe with a little yellow and they eat insects and some times stand on the backs of cows.”

“Bruce takes me bird watching some times.” He said, keeping his free hand by his side still unsure of what to do with it.

“My guardian doesn’t really care for it, but everyone usually watches movies on the television.” You shrugged and circled your thumb around his knuckles. “I hope they’re better than last year.”

Partially distracted by your touches, Dick almost stumbled on his words upon asking, “Who stays at the beach house with you?”

“Charlotte and her mom will definitely be there. I’m not sure if Charlotte’s older cousin is going again. She’s kind of loud.”

“It’ll be fun with your friend there.”

“Yeah. Charlotte’s fun to be around. Some times I wonder why teachers haven’t separated us.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“We’re not being disruptive. We just…fully support each other when there’s a debate in English class.

Nodding, Dick tried his best to keep in his wide grin. Imagining you being bold in your words in class, for your friend, could not have made him more proud. You were strongly loyal.

“I’m pretty sure you’d do the same.” You smirked knowingly.

Hit with the intensity of your gaze, Dick looked away. He knew you were right, but the point was you knew.

Do they know me that well already?

A sudden drop of emotions, however muffled, pulled in his stomach.

Blue eyes peered up.

Something held your gaze.

“Darn it,” you whispered.

Glancing over his shoulder, Dick saw his aunt waving them over. A book in one hand. Above her, far into the sky, large clouds more grey than when you all arrived. All signs to leave the park.

Heaviness in his heart kept him in place, familiar and unwanted.

Don’t feel upset or sad, Dick thought as his gaze returned to you. They’re going on vacation. Heck, they deserve it!

Truly, Dick Grayson was happy for you. The emotions spun in him somewhere amongst the sea of disheartenment.

But that was life, wasn’t it?

“Ready, Mister Grayson?”

“W-what?”

Releasing his hand, you linked your arm with his and offered a smile. The forced delicate curve of your lips distracted Dick from the inevitable. For a second.

A gentle nudge to his side and Dick walked with you towards the end of your outing.

I thought we’d have more time.

Building higher together, the afternoon clouds formed even grayer. Turning into storm clouds as they rolled into the city.

Do they have to go home right now?

Around him, across the green lawn, people wandered or scurried with gazes trained skyward. Ordinary people and citizens of Gotham City going about their lives.

How many citizens have gotten close to their soulmate, but never met? How many people know their soulmate, but just don’t know!

Fingers squeezed his arm before holding firmly.

We could’ve had the whole summer.

The pair of you reached his Aunt Harriet and followed her lead. Back in the car, Dick gave no mind to the passenger’s seat. Soulmates sitting as close as seatbelts allowed in the back of the car.

Your fingers traced soft patterns on his forearm while Dick clenched his hands at his sides.

“I’ll be back,” you whispered into his shoulder. “I promise.”

Clicks of the vehicle’s turn signal no longer added a grin to the ward’s face.

I don’t like these feelings. He thought as you moved away from his side.

Car in park, Aunt Harriet looked into the backseat. “Alright, dear. Have a wonderful vacation.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Cooper,” you said as you unbuckled your seatbelt. “You too.”

Smiling fondly she said, “You can call me Aunt Harriet.”

Your eyes widened and a warmth coated your heart.

Dick smiled as you did. Earnest and bittersweet.

Leaning over the center console, you kissed her cheek. “Bye, Aunt Harriet.”

The older woman chuckled. “Good bye.”

As you slid out of the car, Dick Grayson followed. Not wanting to waste a second.

His close proximity didn’t surprise you, not after the ride back to where you lived. It did allow the pair of you to hug immediately. A tight embrace desperately trying to ignore the concept of time and knowledge of distance.

It’s just a few weeks.

Dick reluctantly lowered his arms as you pulled away.

“Have fun, okay?” You kissed his cheek.

Comforting warmth blossomed from your lips into his skin. He closed his eyes from the soft familiarity.

“I will.” Dick looked to you adoringly and said, “I hope you have fun every day.” He pressed his lips to your cheek briefly. Upon seeing the surprised look in your eyes, he smiled. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” Voice quiet and eyes full of wonder, you remained still. Hands somewhere between intertwined and fiddling.

The young ward did not know what to make of his nor your actions. He did know you both could not remain outside forever.

“Go get packing. I still need to read your essay.” Dick nudged you ever so slightly.

One last smile and on you went. Heading back indoors to prepare for the beach.

No farewells exchanged.

No eager waving.

There was, however, a strong belief that you would have fun and gain needed rest.

Meanwhile for young Dick Grayson there would likely be a busy summer ahead wearing a mask and cape. Until he saw his soulmate again, he would help keep the city safe. And maybe have a little fun while doing it.

~~~

Part 6 -> "Summer Dreams And Warm Emotions"

(If you love my writings and want to support me, I have a Ko-Fi where you can buy me a coffee. I would be eternally grateful.

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Best wishes and happy reading.)

~~~~~

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[sirthisisa-wendys]

hiiiiiii hellooooooo!! can i request part 2 of start over : rindou x reader? i love it so much! i wanna know what happen after rindou comes home. what will happen to reader? does he treat reader good after the argument. or reader get treated even worse than before? and i would like to know what will reader do next. will she stay with rindou, or leave him? or maybe rindou realizes his mistake and changes? i hope u have a nice day! and sorry for my bad English :)) <3

Done done and done!

Start Over (Part 2): Rindou Haitani x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.4k

tw: smut, angst, drugs

masterlist

Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk.

The table in the foyer thumps against the wall as Rindou grips your hips and fucks into you from behind.

Thunk, thunk, thunk. "Fuck..."

If you were to look up, you'd see your reflection: tired, eyelids dropping, hair wrapped around your husband's hand. And Rindou would look back at you with his soulless eyes, each supporting two black holes willing to swallow you whole.

Thunk... thunk...

"Ah," Rindou hisses, baring his teeth as he cums inside you. The rattling of the table stops, and Rindou's hand releases your hair slowly. He says nothing as he pulls out, leaving you dripping on the freshly-cleaned tile floor. He zips up, smooths his hair, and straightens his jacket.

"I'll be back home at seven."

You press your hands against your forehead and remain bent over at the waist, knuckles turning stark white as your fingers ball into fists. You can't hear the door shut over the incessant ringing in your ears or the shame flooding your brain. You don't even feel anything anymore. It's just you in that damned prison, cum sliding down your thighs as Rindou makes his way toward his job, and you remember your place in his house as his wife.

You only move from your position when you remember the maid is coming soon, and that barely spurs you into action to clean up or make yourself look presentable.

The woman is barely thirty, but she knows your situation better than most, it seems. Most mornings, she makes you green tea instead of coffee and helps rearrange whatever furniture has been displaced - whether out of Rindou's anger or lust, it didn't matter.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, you find her wiping the foyer clean and bent over where you stood earlier, swiping at the floor carefully. You say nothing as you pass by her, but that doesn't mean you're not sharing any thoughts or knowing glances.

The day is empty - void of meaning until Rindou reappears with his bored look and neediness. Your days are spent roaming about the house, doing mundane things like reading or sunbathing, and not thinking about much else.

When the baby finally reached the age where he could be sent to a care center, you did it immediately. Why raise a child in such a hostile environment? What good would that do except breed resentment in a house full of it?

"Sorry, Mrs. Haitani," the maid interrupts your thoughts. "I haven't cooked breakfast yet. Would you--"

"No," you reply, sipping at your tea. "I'm not hungry." The woman pauses, but shuffles off in the end, leaving you to mope about. And for the second time today, a thought breaches your false sense of peace.

I could leave.

This thought is a daily occurrence, almost like clockwork with its precision and volume. Every day, you think about it at least twice. And every day, you glance at the cameras set up to monitor the house... from the inside. And every day, you shrug the idea off. If you wanted to leave, it would have to be well-planned. But every time you tried to plan it, Rindou would ease up for some reason. He'd nuzzle your neck and kiss you to death in the evenings, then murmur sweet words to you at night and kiss you goodbye in the mornings.

And it would all be perfect for a little while until--

Your phone rings suddenly. The only number that's allowed to call in or that you're allowed to call pops up, and you press the device to your ear. "Yes?"

"I want to go out to eat tonight," Rindou croons, and you can visualize the smile on his face. "I'm thinking... Nobu."

Your stomach growls at the thought of sushi, and you huff a laugh. "What time?"

"You pick, baby. I want you to dress up. Can you wear the green dress tonight?"

"How about eight o'clock?"

"Sounds good. See you soon, my love." The sick feeling returns when you hang up the phone and turn to look at the stairs. As you travel up the steps, you recollect something you found in Rindou's things as you did the laundry. It was a small but fancy pill case, and five pressed, white pills lay inside with numbers on both sides.

You'd left it alone out of fear, but as your mind works, you reason just one couldn't hurt. Whatever it was, if it came from who you assume it came from, then perhaps it was something like a Xanax tablet or... whatever else Bonten sold. Rindou had never been visibly hyped up in front of you, and if these were his pills, well... maybe you would understand him better.

You slip one into your mouth without overthinking it and wander into the closet, intent on looking for your green dress out of the million and one others.

But soon, your head begins to swim, and you feel dizzy. You stumble, hands grabbing whatever to steady yourself, and a box of shoes comes tumbling down onto the floor in slow motion. Your body pitches and your vision dances, and before you can cry out for help, a deep sense of euphoria washes over you.

And you feel good.

Whatever Rindou has been hiding, you muse. This... this is different.

You lay on the floor and sink even deeper into the feeling, allowing the brief moments of reprieve and pleasure to wash over your body. "Rindou," you murmur, blinking slowly. "Rindou, you never told me you were hiding something that would finally make me feel good..."

Unbidden, his face swims in your vision, and you try to wave it off, but your fingers touch the skin, and Rindou's face isn't happy. His black holes for eyes are worried, but you see no reason for that. You finally feel good. Why would he ruin this for you by being upset?

"How long have you been laying here?" you hear him yell, but your body doesn't respond to him like it usually would.

"Don't know," you admit, trying to shrug. "Don't care."

"Fuck." Rindou disappears, then reappears with the pill case, his eyes searching yours frantically.

"Why are you so upset?" you wonder, but Rinodu isn't listening. Instead, he's squinting at the pills. "You need your glasses." He still doesn't respond. "Don't you hear me talking to you?"

"Where did you get these?" His voice is sharp, cutting through your pleasant emotions with bitterness.

"Your pockets," you reply, smiling. "You brought them to me." Rindou closes his eyes, inhales, then exhales deeply. "Are you mad at me?"

"No," Rindou finally says, his eyes opening. "No, I'm not mad."

"Good. I'm hungry. Are we still going to Nobu?"

"No," he repeats.

"But I'm hungry. I'll even wear the dress if we--"

"No," Rindou says a third time. You shift up a little, trying to feel your muscles. "We can't now. Let's get you to bed." You protest a little as Rindou picks you up, but you're quickly silenced as your feet drag across the carpet and into the bedroom once again. Rindou tucks you into the bed with care, patting the covers and sitting beside you. There's a look in his eye you can't describe, but it's enough to make you wish you could.

"'M sorry," you slur, mouth forming a slight pout.

"No, I'm sorry." Rindou pats your hand absentmindedly, staring off into space as you blink. "You should rest for a while. I'll make sure everything is taken care of."

You can't help but nod. Rindou stays there - you feel him shift only a few times, but overall, he remains there in silence. You're not sure when you drift off, but when you awaken, the room is dimly lit, and Rindou is beside you, reviewing documents in his pajamas.

"Rin," you croak, throat aching for water. He senses your need immediately and produces a water bottle, uncapping it for you to take and drink from. The effects from the pill are abating, and feelings come back to you like a trickle of water flowing through a crevice. "What did I take?"

"Doesn't matter," he grunts, stroking your hair. "It won't happen again."

"But--"

"It won't. Happen. Again." The short words he has with you make you sink into the bed. He returns to his papers, though the hand on your head doesn't stop petting you carefully. "Get some sleep for me."

You have no choice but to obey.

[vickyvicarious]

Today's entry does not match Lucy ill in London as of her last two diary entries, leaving two distinct options.

Stoker messed up the timeline (Doylist)

Lucy is lying to Mina (Watsonian)

There's no way to have both work at once, not really. I suppose you could try, but it would take a lot more effort to have both be true at once and I'm not really sure how it would work (either you take a halfway approach to shuffling some dates but not all, or you say Lucy isn't outright lying but is exaggerating, I guess?). Nor is this post super interested in that. Instead, I want to take a moment to look at what each interpretation would mean for Lucy.

Doylist

This interpretation is supported by such details as: lots of other timeline weirdness happening in the latter half of September, and the letter being postmarked from Whitby. It would presumably be harder to lie about where you're sending a letter from, after all.

What it would mean for Lucy is that she recovered for a while. She was able to experience true happiness for at least a little bit. And it shows up that she is someone who doesn't linger on her stresses once they are no longer actively bothering her; instead she throws herself fully into her joy with Arthur here. I like this in the context of chronically-ill!Lucy. She might be used to being uncertain about how long feeling well will last, or indeed when it will happen at all, and when she does feel good she tries to seize the day and make the most of it. Also, it seems like her recovery, if this letter is totally honest, is fairly complete/happens fairly quickly. This would mean, too, that her diary entries in London show a much more rapid fall, as opposed to her slowly getting a bit better than feeling worse again. It would have been such an abrupt, scary shock when it happened.

Lucy and Arthur get to spend a lot of time together. They get to be really happy and fall more and more in love, they get to look forward to their future together as they enjoy their present. I love them getting to experience such happiness, I love that the promised fun summer at Whitby gets to come true even if just for a short time. Lucy is full of life and love before she returns to London. And then suddenly, all the illness and fear and loneliness is back with a vengeance that she wasn't prepared for.

Watsonian

If we assume the dates are correct, but that Lucy is lying about the contents of the letter, there's a lot less rearranging to do (there would be a bit of a cascading effect of having to adjust when the Harkers got married/how long the mail took to arrive, etc.). The letter being sent from Whitby is harder to explain, though.

What this means for Lucy is that she has finally taken the next step from pretending she's fine to actively lying about lots of details. It gives a very bleak impression of her in London, scared and alone but choosing not to confide in even Mina after her mother rejected her attempt at seeking comfort. I imagine the reasoning to be an extension of what was going on in Whitby: Mina currently has to care for a very ill Jonathan, and Lucy doesn't want her to feel worried about her as well, or guilty for having her health take a dive after Mina left her side. Continuing the theme of self-isolation driven by love... She also is trying to answer the wishes Mina so sincerely expressed for her in her letter. Mina was looking forward to Lucy's happiness so much that Lucy doesn't want to tell her none of it is coming true at all.

Lucy never gets to be really happy during this time. She has a very brief respite in Whitby when Dracula left before feeling awful again almost as soon as she arrives in London. Maybe Arthur was never able to join her there, and she's only seen him in London. All the activities and joking around listed here, instead of being what really happened, become in this interpretation Lucy's daydreams. Her wishes. This is the kind of life she wants to have, and she's imagining it and pretending she really has it to Mina here. But it's all the more tragic because even as she writes this, she's incredibly weak and in pain.

.

In the past I've leaned more towards the latter, but honestly, both are very compelling in different ways. Especially after writing it out like this, I now feel torn on which I prefer.

[wuahae]

juyeon + the mansion at the top of the hill + 11:43pm (But does the time really matter… ill let you decide .) - ari

[23:43] / the mansion at the top of the hill

-

the moon hangs low tonight, the silver light weaving between the trees as it casts a gentle glow through the mansion windows. the cold from outside almost penetrates into the mansion itself, moonlight providing no warmth on a pitiless autumn night—almost.

a single lit lamp held in your hands, your slippers shuffle across the carpet as you make your way down the empty corridor. the wick burns steady, flame flickering as it reflects off the pool of oil swaying about with each step. it was a common occurrence, this sort of thing. at this hour, all the servants had already gone to bed, tired after a long day of work and ready to reset for the next, which meant it was only you roaming these halls. quiet, lingering, waiting.

your bedroom at the end of the corridor is an unassuming sight. a single door leading into the room, the inside is almost just as simple—a vanity placed in the corner, and a small desk placed alongside the wall, and a large bed sitting in the middle of the room. shutting the door quietly,  you place the lamp by the bedside and watch silently as the only source of light casts long shadows throughout the room. the owl hoots, the wind whistles through the rustling of leaves, a branch knocks against the glass.

a part of you still feels it, even with so many years distancing that night from your present. there's still a weight on the other end of the mattress sinking in beside you, the faint phantom of a touch hovering over your skin, a shiver running along your spine as you breathe in a shaky breath and feel yourself shudder on its way out—

"juyeon," you call, soft, and even the wind outside falls to a hush.

if you looked in the vanity mirror, you know you would see his reflection staring at you from behind, so familiar he would be almost solid enough to touch. but you know if you chased that rabbit trail, if you let him lead you to where he wanted you to go, if you turned to face him head on, he would disappear without a trace.

(the flame on the candle flickers; only one shadow remains.)

"i'm sorry," you start, and somehow, it feel like that's all you've been doing, recently. apologizing, and then repeating the same mistakes over and over again. "i took a long time to return, didn't i? i didn't mean to, there was just a lot to handle at the estate today." fiddling around with the trinkets on the vanity, the perfume bottles clink together as you rearrange them, crystal glass cool against your fingertips. "it's an important day tomorrow, after all."

you glance up, and the ghost meets your eyes with a reprimanding look.

"don't look at me like that," you retort, head instinctively trying to snap back before you stiffen and stop yourself midway. you swallow hard. "you know it's not that simple."

it is, juyeon counters silently. you know better than anyone how simple this really is. he doesn't say anything though, he never does.

(look at me. look at me. look at me.)

if he really wanted you to truly let him go, then he'd find a way to make it happen—he always did. you like to imagine you're not the only one complicit in this, that some part of him still wants to remain by your side too.

the clock on the wall ticks, the minute and hour hand aligning perfectly at the top. juyeon's silhouette flickers, like a ripple in the water. it's been officially one year since he's died, and you're still trying to hold on and pretend that you can still touch him.

sometimes, you wonder if it's even him anymore, or if it's just the memory of him you've latched onto. but you've decided it doesn't really matter, in the end. some version of him, however dead it may be, was better than being without him at all.

"good night, juyeon," you whisper. the disappointment in his gaze forces you to avert your eyes tonight, too. just like every night beforehand. the first time it happens, it's a mistake; everything that happens afterwards is a choice, and even with the guilt viscous enough to suffocate, you can't really find it in yourself to care anymore.

("i think i died with you," you'd told him, one night. you've been trying to make true of that every night since.)

there are two ghosts haunting this mansion—you've made sure of it. if you look close enough in the mirror, you can see the faint outline of your figure rotting alongside him. this is the burden you've chosen to carry, the hole you've dug for your own burial.

the candle is blown out with a single whoosh.

[mxtantrights]

the Dent Cut

this is a snippet from the famous dc!au that started with The Greatest Hits [read here]  you don’t have to read it but a lot of things would make sense if you do. 

It started on twitter like all things seem to do these days. There had been a petition going around ever since the movie hit theaters to see the hinted Dent Cut. 

Dent was known to give his fans and viewers a glimpse into the directing process. Certain scenes that were cut, lines that were changed, set and location ideas. These we

This time around you know what the Dent cut is. It’s the movie within the movie he directed. Which is weird to say but you were there so you know exactly what it is.

Whenever you were on set there would be another camera going. Lines being changed right there in front of the cast and crew, sets being rearranged. There was actually a whole other plot line created that Dent scrapped due to time. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t feed into it sometimes with the extra footage he had.

Love in Pieces (The Dent Cut) features some moments between you and Jason that weren't exactly in character. Nothing too bad really. Just you and him bickering over whatever was happening that day, staring at each other from across set, etc.

But you knew that with the video swirling around it would only fuel the rumors about the two of you. You had your own opinions on the whole supposed relationship between you and Jason but you didn’t get the chance to speak to him about it yet one one one. 

You were both busy people now. He’s got projects, you’ve got projects. And you’re downright nervous to bring it up to him. You don’t want it the change whatever it is you’ve got going. He’s the first friend you made in the industry and you don't wanna lose that.

But not talking about it when there is oil possibly going to be poured on the fire would be worse. 

So you pick up your phone and pull up your thread conversation.

you: hey if you're not busy we need to talk 

What you don't expect is an instant response. 

Jason: I can talk now. call?

You negate answering with another text. Instead you hit his contact and then the call button. It rings for three seconds and then he answers. You can hear a bit of shuffling in the background.

“Hey what’s up?” he asks.

You blow air out of your mouth, “Uh, nothing much just wanted to talk to you. just us.” 

“Did that impromptu zoom meeting scare you that bad?” he asks lightly, with a bit of a laugh at the end.

“I mean not really but I was just- we didn’t get to talk about all of it just us.” you answer. 

“I promise you the heat from the video will die down.” he says.

“Even with Dent possibly releasing his collage of stuff online?” you ask back.

“What? What are you talking about?” he’s quick.

“There’s a petition going around asking him to release the other footage he has. Footage of us, Jason.” you explain.

There's more movement in the background of the call. You try to make out where he is exactly but you can’t. You have a feeling he was busy and lied in order to take your call. 

“But we were just on set. Two actors on set. How could that make the video worse?” he asks.

“Because there’ll be a YouTube montage as soon as it hits. And the tabloids will run it into the ground.” you speak slowly. 

You're nervous. You’re overthinking. In your head a million things are happening at once. You career is tanked. You’ll lose your current projects. You’ll only be seen as the actor that feel in love with their co-star. You’ll be out of a job.

“Hey listen to me, listen to my voice.” 

“Holy shit. Did I say that out loud?” you ask.

“Yes you did, it’s okay. It’s gonna be fine.” he tries soothing you.

You shake your head and shut your eyes. Phone still pressed to you ear. 

“Jason what if this is ten times worse than the video? What if I tank your career?” you ask.

“If the video and Dent’s extra footage tank my career then it was never worth it, but I would be glad I got to do it with you.” he answers honestly.

And it breaks your heart. To hear him say such kind words to you. A tiny part of you was expecting him to be a little bit upset about this. Ot at least as nervous as you are right now.

“How are you so calm about this? How are you not freaking out?” you ask.

“I just texted my brother.” he says.

“What- good for you... I guess?” you waver.

“Not like that hun, he’s good with online stuff. Said he could minimize the impact of the video leak if it starts trending.” he explains.

You let out a breath. It feels good. He has someone to take care of this. That’s why he’s so calm. You take another breath.

“And I can speak to Dent if you want.” Jason offers.

“No! I don’t want come off as rude.” you answer quickly, shouting a bit.

“It’s not rude. Plus he’s a family friend. He and my dad go way back.” he adds on.

“You would do that for me?” you ask.

On the other end you hear a short chuckle, “Yeah. Of course.” 

You’re not sure of what to say. He’s being so nice to you. Of course you’re about to star in the highly anticipated sequel opposite of him, so he kind of had to be. But this feels different. This feels real.

“It would mean a lot actually, Jason.” you admit.

“Okay then consider it done then.” he speaks.

“And I know that you were probably busy and still picked up my call anyways. Thank you.” you smile a bit to yourself.

“You’re hard to ignore. And trust me I’ve tried.” he jokes.

And you laugh at that. “Okay I’ll let you go. Bye Jason.” 

“I’ll call you when it’s done.” he departs.

You put your phone down and take a deep breath in and out. Some semblance of normal was returning. You know the rumors won’t really stop. If not with Jason then with someone else. But you’re glad that you have him by your side to go through this. And that it doesn’t seem to change your relationship with him.

“LOVE IN PIECES” EXTRA FOOTAGE? DENT CUT PETITION BELOW!

DENT DENIES EXTRA FOOTAGE CLAIMS, APPEASES FANS WITH SEQUEL TALK AND RARE WAYNE/DENT PHOTO FROM EARLY 90S! 

BUZZ ABOUT LEAKED VIDEO OF “LOVE IN PIECES” CO-STARS!

JASON TODD POSTS BEHIND THE SCENES PICS OF “LOVE IN PIECES” ON INSTA!