#this stunned me so much i had to take a moment to recover after the fight ghfjdks

[systemrestart]

certified Touhou Moment™

[solxamber]

Tides of Affection - Azul Ashengrotto x Reader

You've chosen Azul!

Falling for Azul is gradual, yet natural, just like the ebb and flow of currents.

Prologue ; 1k Masterlist

You hold your phone for a moment, mentally preparing yourself for the call. After a lot of back and forth in your mind, you’ve finally decided to accept Azul’s date invitation. As much as you tried to play it cool, the thought of an exclusive dinner at Mostro Lounge had been lingering in your head all week.

The phone rings once, and you hear a professional but familiar voice. "This is Azul—"

"I’ll go on the date with you."

A loud crash echoes from the other end, followed by a distinct, undignified yelp. You clap a hand over your mouth to stifle the laugh that’s bubbling up. There’s a beat of awkward silence, then a very obvious sound of someone—likely Azul—scrambling to recover his composure.

"I-I mean, excellent! Yes, that sounds... wonderful," he continues, trying to adopt his usual smooth tone but failing miserably. You can almost see him pushing his glasses up, his face pink as he adds, "I'll pick you up tonight. Dress... appropriately."

That night, Azul shows up at Ramshackle looking like he’s spent hours meticulously choosing the perfect outfit. He’s wearing his best suit, his glasses polished to perfection. When you answer the door, he offers you his arm, clearly attempting to channel his inner gentleman.

The two of you walk toward Mostro Lounge in comfortable silence, and when you arrive, you’re stunned. The restaurant is completely empty, save for a beautifully set table in the middle, lit by soft candlelight. It’s a perfect mix of intimate and extravagant.

"Azul... this is amazing," you say, genuinely impressed.

Azul’s face lights up at your praise. "I’m glad you approve. I wanted tonight to be... memorable."

Before you can reply, Floyd suddenly appears out of nowhere, and your eyes widen. He's wearing his usual Mostro Lounge uniform but with a huge, fake mustache taped to his face. He walks over to the table, arms outstretched, and starts speaking in the worst French accent you’ve ever heard.

“Bonsoooiiiir, mes amiiiis!” Floyd exclaims, throwing in some exaggerated hand gestures for good measure. “Tonight, I will be your serrrrveur extraordinaire! What shall I bring ze beautiful couple to eet?"

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from bursting out laughing, while Azul’s face looks like it’s seconds away from bursting into flames. He’s frantically signaling something to the side, mouthing at Floyd to cut it out.

Floyd, of course, ignores this entirely and leans in close, waggling his fake mustache. “Perhaps ze... escargot? Or ze finest lobstah?”

Azul is about five seconds from collapsing into the floor when Jade appears, ever the picture of calm, and gently steers Floyd away. “Floyd, I believe your expertise is required in the kitchen.”

Floyd whines loudly. “Awww, c’mon! I wanna see Azul embarrass himself! It’s funny watching him mess up in front of his little date!”

“I’m sure you’ll find another way to entertain yourself,” Jade says, completely unfazed, as he firmly guides his twin back into the kitchen.

Azul looks like he’s dying inside. “I deeply apologize for that,” he mutters, mortified beyond belief.

You can't help but laugh. “Honestly? I think it was hilarious. Floyd's got... quite the talent for making things interesting.”

Azul lets out a long, exhausted sigh, shaking his head. “Interesting is one way to put it.”

He reaches for his glass of water, but his hand is visibly trembling, and when he takes a sip, some of it dribbles down the side of the glass. You can’t help but notice how tense he is, his shoulders drawn tight and his eyes darting nervously between you and the table. It’s honestly... kind of adorable.

Feeling bold, you reach across the table and take his hand gently in yours.

Azul freezes, eyes widening in shock.

“You don’t need to be so nervous,” you say softly, giving his hand a light squeeze. “I’m here because I like you, Azul. You don’t need to impress me—I’m already impressed.”

Azul’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, and when he finally speaks, his voice cracks. “You... you like me?”

Your expression softens. “Yeah, Azul. I do.”

He blinks, the gears in his head turning like he can’t quite process what you’re saying. Then, slowly, his body relaxes. His shoulders drop, his grip on your hand becomes less stiff, and though his face is still flushed, he gives you a small, genuine smile.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, the tension in his voice fading. “That... means more to me than you know.”

From that point on, the conversation flows more easily. You find yourselves chatting about your day, and you regale Azul with the latest disaster involving Sebek, Ace, and Deuce.

“So Sebek gets into this huge argument with Ace over who can jump higher, right? But in the middle of it, Deuce trips over a bucket and knocks down this entire stack of potions—"

Azul’s eyes widen in alarm. “Oh no...”

“Oh yeah,” you continue, grinning. “There were explosions everywhere. Sebek’s hair turned bright purple, Ace got covered in glitter, and Deuce? He’s been sneezing feathers for hours.”

Azul shakes his head, exasperated but clearly amused. “Your group is nothing if not... unpredictable.”

“You’re telling me. Poor Crewel had to ban us from the alchemy lab for the rest of the week.”

You both share a laugh, and by the time the food arrives—delivered by a very professional-looking Jade—the mood has lightened considerably. The food, as expected, is incredible, and you find yourself thoroughly enjoying the rest of the evening.

When the meal is done, Azul insists on walking you back to Ramshackle. The night air is cool and crisp, and there’s a comfortable silence between you as the two of you stroll back through the grounds.

As you reach the doorstep, Azul hesitates, looking like he wants to say something but can’t quite find the words. Before he can overthink it, you take his hand, raise it to your lips, and press a soft kiss to his knuckles.

Azul’s reaction is instantaneous. His entire body goes rigid, his face turning a deep shade of red. He stares at you like he’s short-circuiting, and for a moment, you genuinely wonder if you’ve broken him.

“G-Goodnight!” he squeaks, his voice a full octave higher than usual. Then, without warning, he practically flees from the scene, leaving you standing there, thoroughly amused.

You watch him disappear into the distance, shaking your head fondly. There’s no denying it—tonight was an absolute success.

It’s a typical PE day, which, for you, means sitting on the sidelines watching your classmates either struggle or excel at flying lessons. As someone with no magic, you’ve been mercifully excused from the torment of broom flying, so instead, you get to watch the chaos unfold.

Vargas is barking encouragement at the students, his voice booming across the field. "Come on, put your back into it! Fly like your life depends on it!"

You casually lean back, eyes scanning the group. Some are soaring confidently through the air like they've been born on a broomstick, while others—well, others are just... Azul.

You spot him hovering about an inch off the ground, his hands gripping the broom with the intensity of someone holding onto a cliff’s edge for dear life. His face is pale, and there's an unmistakable look of pure existential dread in his eyes.

"He's going to fall," you mutter under your breath.

Sure enough, his body wobbles, and he teeters dangerously to one side. Without thinking, you bolt across the field, reaching him just as his broom starts to tip. Your hands find their way to his waist, steadying him before disaster strikes.

Azul nearly jumps out of his skin at the sudden contact. “W-what are you—"

“You were about to fall,” you say, shooting him a quick grin as you hold him in place.

Azul’s entire body trembles under your touch, and his usual calm façade cracks as he struggles to keep himself from spontaneously combusting. His grip on the broom tightens as he attempts to regain some sense of balance.

From behind you, Grim, who's been lounging nearby, rolls his eyes dramatically. “Seriously? He’s like a centimeter off the ground. He’s not gonna die if he falls.”

You shoot Grim a look but can’t help the snicker that escapes. “Better safe than sorry, right?”

Floyd, who’s been casually observing the scene from a distance, bursts into laughter. “Oh man, Shrimpy’s out here saving Azul from the ground! Classic!”

Jade, ever the composed twin, nods in agreement, though there's a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “Quite the heroic rescue, I must say.”

You stick your tongue out at them, ignoring their teasing as you turn your attention back to Azul. “You okay?”

He nods, though the pink flush creeping up his neck says otherwise. “I-I’m fine,” he stammers, clearly out of his element.

From Azul’s perspective, however, things are much more dire. He's not just being saved from an embarrassing fall—he's certain that he’s staring into the face of an angel. You haven’t taken your hands off his waist yet, and his mind is racing with the realization.

There are literal sparkles around you, he’s sure of it. His thoughts scatter in a million directions as he tries, and fails, to focus on anything other than the warmth of your hands still holding him steady.

Why are they still holding me like this? Do I smell like fish? No, wait, I don’t! Is this what people feel like before they combust?

Then, just as suddenly as you grabbed him, you pull your hands away, and Azul feels the loss immediately.

“Thanks,” he manages to choke out, though it comes out sounding more like a croak than anything remotely suave.

“You sure you're alright?” You eye him for a moment longer, clearly amused by his frazzled state.

Azul straightens his glasses, desperately trying to regain his composure. “Yes... perfectly fine. Though I believe I owe you for the timely intervention,” he says, his voice steadying with every word. “Perhaps another dinner, to... properly thank you?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Azul, are you asking me out on another date?”

He clears his throat, suddenly very focused on a non-existent speck of dust on his broom. “I—I suppose that’s one way to phrase it, yes.”

You smile, clearly amused. “Alright, I accept. But only because I saved you from a one-centimeter fall.”

Azul blushes furiously at that, but he nods. “Of course. You’re a true hero.”

As you walk back to your spot on the sidelines, Floyd and Jade exchange a look, clearly holding back more laughter.

“Man, Azul’s gonna lose his mind if this keeps up,” Floyd says, grinning ear to ear.

“Indeed,” Jade replies smoothly. “It seems they’ve found the perfect way to keep him grounded.”

It’s a relatively normal day at Night Raven College—by normal, of course, it means you’re trying to prevent Ramshackle from falling apart at the seams for the fifteenth time that week. You’re in the kitchen, battling yet another suspiciously leaky faucet when your phone buzzes with a message. Azul.

Your heart flutters, but then a mild sense of concern settles in—Azul doesn’t usually text you unless it’s something important. Maybe another business proposal? An invitation to the Mostro Lounge to try his latest ‘limited time’ seafood special? But no, when you open the message, it’s short and strange: "Be ready by 5 PM. Dress warm. See you soon."

Uh… What?

Now, Azul isn’t exactly the type to do spontaneous things, so this throws you off completely. But, intrigued and with no pressing emergencies (for now), you throw on a warm jacket, scarf, and gloves, wondering what he has planned.

Is it another attempt to woo you with his business acumen? A surprise study session? You’re equal parts curious and worried about what sort of ordeal this could lead to.

By 5 PM, you’re waiting outside, pacing in front of the creaky Ramshackle door when, sure enough, Azul arrives. He’s looking incredibly out of his element—wrapped up in an enormous winter coat, cheeks pink from the cold, a thick woolen scarf around his neck, and glasses fogging up slightly from his breath. Honestly, he looks like he’s just walked into a freezing wilderness.

"Azul, are we... going on an arctic expedition or something?" you tease, but you’re already grinning at how adorably overdressed he is for the mild chill.

Azul clears his throat, looking a bit embarrassed as he pushes his glasses up. “No, nothing of the sort. I merely wished to—ah—show you something. Follow me.”

Now you’re even more intrigued. "Okay, but if this turns into a surprise business venture, I reserve the right to mock you for the rest of time," you warn playfully, falling in step beside him as he leads you out of the Ramshackle courtyard and down the campus path.

As you walk, the usual hustle and bustle of the school fades into the background. It's quiet, and you notice that Azul keeps glancing at you like he’s checking to see if you’re still there, as though he’s afraid you’ll vanish into thin air.

Eventually, you reach the outskirts of campus where a small forest lies ahead. Azul stops and turns toward you with an almost... nervous look.

"I wanted to take you somewhere that I rarely show others," he admits, avoiding your eyes as he fidgets with the edge of his scarf. "It’s... personal."

You tilt your head, heart already beating a little faster at the way he’s looking so serious and vulnerable. This isn’t the Azul that deals in contracts and meticulous plans. This is Azul without the safety net.

"Personal?" you ask, softening your tone. "Lead the way."

The two of you trek through the trees, and you can’t help but notice how ridiculously over-prepared Azul seems for this—he’s walking carefully, as if he's bracing for quicksand, making sure not to slip on any imaginary hazards. It’s both sweet and hilarious at the same time.

Finally, after what feels like a mini hike, you break through a clearing, and your breath catches in your throat.

You’re standing at the edge of a frozen lake, its surface glimmering under the evening sky. Lanterns are strung along the trees surrounding the lake, casting a warm glow over the ice. There’s even a small blanket laid out with a thermos of what smells like hot cocoa, and a pair of ice skates placed neatly at the edge of the blanket.

Your eyes widen in disbelief. "Wait... are we—are we going ice skating?"

Azul, now looking a little sheepish, nods, refusing to meet your gaze. "I... thought it might be enjoyable," he says, his voice quieter than usual. "I know it’s not something I’d typically do, but I—well, I wanted to do something special for you."

Your heart practically melts on the spot. Azul is definitely not the ‘outdoorsy’ type, let alone someone who’d voluntarily ice skate. Yet, here he is, dragging himself far out of his comfort zone just to plan something this sweet.

He nervously adds, "I’ll admit, I’m not... terribly skilled at this activity. But I’ve—uh—practiced."

You have to bite your lip to keep from laughing at how ridiculously cute and nervous he sounds, though the image of Azul trying to practice ice skating in secret is now firmly lodged in your brain. "You did all of this for me?" you ask, warmth spreading through your chest.

Azul nods, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. "I... wanted to show my appreciation. You’ve done a lot for me, and I thought... maybe this would be a pleasant way to repay you."

Your grin is unstoppable at this point. You don’t even care that it’s freezing or that you’ve never been the best skater. The fact that Azul has gone to this much trouble for you? You’re already swooning.

"Azul, this is..." You don’t know how to express how touched you are, so instead, you grab the skates and immediately start putting them on. "Come on, let’s skate!"

Azul seems startled by your enthusiasm but follows suit, albeit much more carefully. You can already tell he’s bracing for disaster as he edges toward the ice like he’s about to step onto a minefield.

The second he sets foot on the ice, you see why he’s so nervous. His legs immediately start wobbling like a newborn giraffe, and you barely suppress a giggle as he clutches at your arm for dear life.

"I-I told you I wasn’t very good at this," he mumbles, his face turning a bright shade of pink.

"It’s okay, I’ve got you," you reassure him, though the effort it takes not to laugh is almost painful. "Just hold onto me."

Together, you manage a few laps around the lake, though Azul’s feet continue to betray him, slipping and sliding more often than not. Every time he stumbles, you’re right there to steady him, which only seems to make him more flustered.

But the more you skate together, the more comfortable he becomes. And at some point, when he’s finally not wobbling like a newborn calf, you realize just how thoughtful and genuine his effort is. He did this for you.

By the time you’re sitting together on the blanket, sipping the hot cocoa, you’re grinning like an idiot, completely smitten. Azul is still embarrassed, probably replaying every awkward moment on the ice in his head, but you’re too busy falling for him to care.

"I can’t believe you did all of this," you murmur, leaning your head against his shoulder.

Azul swallows, his ears turning red, but he smiles shyly. "I’m glad you enjoyed it."

You glance up at him, and in that moment, you know you’ve completely fallen. Because here is Azul—stoic, business-minded Azul—going out of his way to make you smile, even if it means doing something as foreign to him as ice skating.

"I did," you say softly, reaching for his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "More than you know."

The pipe in Ramshackle bursts with a violent hiss, and before you know it, water is everywhere—gushing from the ceiling, flooding the floor, and turning your already dilapidated home into a mini waterpark.

You’re ankle-deep in the chaos, trying desperately to block the spray with your hands like that’s going to do anything. Grim is perched on your shoulder, equally panicking but trying to maintain his usual bravado.

"Hey! Do somethin' before we drown, hench-human!" Grim barks, his little paws flailing as he attempts to swipe at the water like it’s something he can defeat with a few swats.

"I'm trying!" you shout back, grabbing a bucket and using it to… well, collect more water? Honestly, you’re not even sure what you’re doing at this point. The pipe is making noises like it’s laughing at your efforts, and you feel a wave of frustration welling up in your chest.

Just then, your phone rings, startling both you and Grim.

"Not now, Grim!" you yell, struggling to balance him while your other hand is busy with an already overflowing bucket.

"Uh, it's not me, hench-human!" Grim snaps, poking the phone with his tail until you fumble it into your hand.

You glance at the screen, only to see Azul calling you. Oh no, this is not how you imagined the day would go.

"Azul?" you answer, already sounding defeated. You don’t even get the chance to properly greet him before he’s asking, all smooth and casual, “Are you free for dinner tonight?”

And that’s when you lose it.

"Azul!" you practically sob into the phone. “Ramshackle is flooded! The kitchen’s drowning, Grim’s trying to help but he has paws, and I’m pretty sure I'm going to skewer Crowley when I see him next!”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end as you try not to full-on cry about the soggy state of your life.

Azul’s voice, calm as ever, replies, “Stay right there. I’ll take care of it.”

You barely have time to process his words when, not even 15 minutes later, there’s a knock at your door. You slosh through the water to answer it, only to find a team of professional-looking people standing there with equipment in hand.

"We’re here to fix your plumbing," one of them says, as if this is a perfectly normal emergency call on a late evening.

"What the—?" You step back, utterly baffled as they walk in like a squad of elite disaster-rescue plumbers. They immediately get to work, assessing the damage and patching up the burst pipe like it’s nothing more than a leaky faucet.

You stand there, shell-shocked, as they not only fix the pipe but also take a moment to reinforce some of the more concerning areas of Ramshackle.

Azul appears behind them, watching everything with a critical eye. He’s dressed as impeccably as ever, looking completely unbothered by the soggy mess you’re in the middle of.

“You…” you blink at him, at a loss for words. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

Azul gives a small, graceful wave of his hand, like it’s no big deal. “It was the least I could do. I couldn’t very well let you stay in a house that was falling apart, could I?”

Overwhelmed by the gesture, you do the first thing that comes to mind. You hug him. You throw your arms around him and squeeze, feeling genuinely touched by how thoughtful he’s been.

Azul freezes, completely stiff in your embrace, his hands hovering awkwardly as though he’s forgotten how to function as a human being. But after a beat, he tentatively wraps his arms around you, his grip a little unsure, but warm nonetheless.

When you pull back, his cheeks are tinged pink, and he’s not quite meeting your eyes. “I-I hope the repairs were to your satisfaction.”

"They were more than that," you say, giving him a bright smile. “Thank you.”

With the pipe situation under control and Ramshackle’s kitchen looking more presentable than it’s ever been, you realize it’s far too late for the romantic dinner at Mostro Lounge. But there’s a solution for that.

“How about we get some fast food and watch a movie instead?” you suggest, figuring a more casual date would be the perfect end to this bizarre evening.

Azul, still looking mildly flustered from the hug, agrees. “That… sounds lovely.”

You both settle down on the couch with a pile of fast food, picking a movie to watch together. Azul, despite his earlier composure, is tense beside you—staring at the screen but clearly not paying any attention to what’s happening in the movie.

You try not to laugh at how rigid he is, and after a while, you give up on subtlety entirely. Casually, you wrap an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into your side as you lean back against the couch.

His entire body tenses, but he doesn’t resist, instead leaning into you. His head rests lightly against your shoulder, and though you can feel him fidget every few minutes, he gradually relaxes.

You spend the rest of the evening like that, the warmth of the moment making the movie’s plot irrelevant.

The next morning, you wake up, still curled up on the couch with Azul half-draped across you, his head resting comfortably against your chest. You blink groggily at the morning light filtering through the window, then glance down at him.

Azul stirs, waking up and blinking in confusion before realizing the compromising position he’s in. His face goes crimson almost instantly, and he sits up way too fast, nearly knocking himself off the couch.

“I-I—” he starts, trying to find the words while adjusting his glasses, but he’s clearly too flustered to form a coherent sentence.

You, on the other hand, just grin at him, completely at ease. “I’d love to do this again,” you say, voice soft but sincere.

Azul freezes again, staring at you for a moment before a bashful smile slowly creeps onto his face. “I… I would like that too,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

And just like that, the two of you sit there, grinning at each other like lovestruck idiots, the events of the previous night already becoming a sweet memory you’ll both cherish.

It’s a sight to behold: Azul in his element, operating at full power, and you get to witness it firsthand. You’re sitting at one of the booths in the Mostro Lounge, ostensibly there to “visit” but really, you’re here to watch him work. And wow, does he work.

Azul is currently handling a group of students who are clearly way in over their heads, trying to negotiate terms for a favor.

The air is thick with desperation—and that’s just from the students. You watch, entranced, as he slips into full businessman mode, his smile sharp enough to cut through steel.

The poor students don’t stand a chance.

“So, gentlemen, if you sign this contract, I can guarantee that all of your, shall we say, academic concerns will be resolved by the end of the week.” Azul slides the contract across the table with a flourish. His voice is smooth, the kind that lures you in before you realize you’re already caught.

You’re impressed by how easily he manipulates the situation—he’s making them feel like they’re getting the best deal of their lives, but you know better. This is Azul. The house always wins.

One of the students glances at the contract and hesitates. “Uh, are you sure there aren’t any... you know... hidden clauses?”

Azul’s grin widens, eyes gleaming behind his glasses. “Hidden clauses? Why, I’m hurt you would even suggest such a thing.” He places a hand over his heart, like he’s truly wounded. “I run a perfectly legitimate business, I assure you. The terms are all there in black and white.”

You bite back a laugh, watching the students squirm under his gaze. It’s like watching a master at work, and you can't help but admire the way he plays this game so effortlessly. Even when they’re suspicious, he has them eating out of the palm of his hand within seconds.

Azul doesn’t just thrive in this environment—he owns it.

Suddenly, Floyd sidles up next to you, leaning in with a mischievous grin. “You’re drooling, you know.”

You roll your eyes. “Am not.”

“Are too~!” Floyd sing-songs, clearly enjoying your flustered expression. “But I get it. Watching Azul reel in his prey is like watching one of those nature documentaries—where the shark’s about to take down a baby seal. Brutal, but you can’t look away.”

You elbow him lightly. “You make it sound so predatory.”

Floyd just laughs. “Because it is. You’re watching Azul, right? Same thing.”

Across the room, Azul is wrapping up the deal. The students, clearly defeated, sign the contract with trembling hands. Azul’s smile never falters. “Pleasure doing business with you, gentlemen. I look forward to seeing how your grades improve.”

They leave, looking like they’ve just sold their souls. Which, knowing Azul, might actually be the case. As soon as they’re out of sight, Azul turns and catches your gaze, his expression instantly softening.

Gone is the sharp businessman—now, he’s just Azul again. He walks over to you, adjusting his glasses with that trademark confidence.

“Well, how did I do?” he asks, though you can tell from the way he’s standing that he already knows the answer.

“Terrifying, as usual,” you reply, giving him an amused grin. “I think you might have scared them into improving their grades out of sheer survival instinct.”

Azul chuckles, sitting down beside you. “I prefer to think of it as... motivation. It’s important to give people a little push every now and then.”

Floyd, still lingering nearby, snickers. “A push, he says. More like you shoved them off a cliff and waved goodbye.”

Azul shoots Floyd a warning glance. “And you’re supposed to be working, not lurking.”

Floyd shrugs. “I’m watching you work. That counts.”

Azul sighs but doesn’t press the issue. Instead, he turns his attention back to you. “So? What do you think of my... business?”

“I think it’s impressive,” you admit, leaning forward slightly. “And also a little scary how easily you do this.”

Azul’s smile turns a bit sheepish, which is honestly adorable considering how confident he was just moments ago. “I just know how to handle people. It’s all about finding their... weak points and using them to negotiate.”

“Yeah, you’re a real charmer,” you tease. “But don’t think I didn’t notice that you’re a bit of a softie when it comes to me.”

Azul’s face flushes a light shade of pink, and he quickly adjusts his glasses again, clearly flustered. “Well, that’s... different. You’re—special.”

Floyd, ever the instigator, snorts. “Special, huh? Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Floyd, out,” Azul mutters through gritted teeth, but you can’t help but laugh. The banter, the contrast between business-mode Azul and flustered, bashful Azul—it’s all incredibly endearing.

You lean back, still watching him, completely entranced by the way he balances his ruthless efficiency with these softer moments. He’s a force to be reckoned with, both in business and... well, with you. And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

You’re helping Sam with a delivery of books, stacking them in your arms and heading down the hallway like some kind of overly burdened delivery person.

It’s just your luck that today of all days, the stack of books you’re carrying makes it impossible to see ahead of you. But you’re used to this. After all, navigating life at this chaotic academy means half of it is spent balancing things you probably shouldn’t be holding while dodging all sorts of absurd situations.

You’re about to drop off the books at an empty classroom, or so you think. You shove open the door, barely catching a glimpse of something—or someone—just before you crash right into them.

There’s a moment of complete, cartoonish chaos as you both lose balance. The next thing you know, you’re flat on your back, books scattered everywhere, and the weight of someone is suddenly pinning you to the floor.

“Wh—” You’re about to shout something half-baked like "What the heck?" when you hear a choked gasp from above you.

You look up—and to your horror, you see Azul standing just outside the classroom door. His face is twisted into an expression so heartbroken, so dramatically devastated, that it looks like he’s witnessing the betrayal of the century.

Oh no.

You quickly realize how this must look: a mysterious person on top of you, you flat on the floor, books scattered everywhere. If this were one of those tragic romance novels Azul undoubtedly reads in secret, this would be the scene right before the misunderstood breakup.

Azul’s face is pale, his eyes wide behind his glasses, and you swear you can see the exact moment his heart shatters into tiny, irreparable pieces.

He opens his mouth, probably to say something cutting or deeply tragic, but instead, all that comes out is a strangled sound, and he abruptly turns on his heel, bolting down the hallway at a speed you didn’t even know he was capable of.

"Azul! Wait!" You panic, shoving the poor soul on top of you off with a quick, distracted apology. You barely hear them stammer out a confused “s-sorry” before you’re sprinting down the hall, books and all common sense abandoned in favor of chasing after Azul.

How is he so fast?! You didn’t know his legs could move this quickly, considering how calculated and leisurely his movements usually are. You half expect him to trip on his own dignity, but no, he’s moving like he’s being chased by a kraken.

“Azul!” You yell again, heart pounding as you finally manage to catch up to him. You grab his wrist and yank him into the nearest room, which, as luck would have it, is the tiniest broom closet you’ve ever seen.

The door slams shut behind you, plunging both of you into a cramped, dust-smelling room. The only sounds are the awkward shuffling of brooms and the frantic thudding of your heart.

Azul is rigid, avoiding your gaze like the floor is the most interesting thing in existence. His face is still a mess of hurt and confusion, and you’re absolutely not about to let him spiral into a misunderstanding-fueled melodrama.

“Azul.” You don’t give him time to wallow in whatever tragic narrative he’s cooked up in his head. You’re done with misunderstandings.

You have enough stress dealing with Crowley, and everything else in this cursed place and you're pretty sure that your life expectancy has halved since you came here—you’re not about to waste your remaining time on needless drama.

Without another word, you close the distance between you and kiss him. Hard.

Azul freezes for a moment, completely caught off guard, but then, just as desperately, he kisses you back. It’s clumsy and a little messy in the cramped space, but there’s no mistaking the way his hands cling to you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

When you finally pull back for air, both of you are breathless, and Azul looks like his entire world has been flipped upside down. “W-What was that?” he asks, voice shaky.

“That,” you say, still catching your breath, “was to stop you from jumping to conclusions.”

Azul blinks at you, clearly still processing everything, so you take the opportunity to explain what happened. “I was just delivering some books, I swear! I crashed into someone by accident, and they fell on top of me. That’s it. Nothing else. I was about to say sorry when you walked in.”

The tension in his shoulders visibly melts away, and his usual composed expression begins to return. Relief floods his features, and he even lets out a quiet, self-deprecating chuckle. “I… I see. I suppose I was being a bit… hasty in my assumptions.”

You raise an eyebrow. “A bit?”

“Alright, perhaps more than a bit,” he admits, looking slightly sheepish now. He pushes his glasses up his nose, his face still a bit flushed from the kiss. “I’m sorry for running away like that.”

You smile, feeling your heart lighten. “Just don’t do it again, okay?”

“I won’t,” Azul promises, and then, as if remembering something, he clears his throat awkwardly. “So… um… does this mean…?”

You grin at him, already knowing what he’s about to ask. “Azul, I want you to be mine.”

His eyes widen, and for a moment, he looks like he might pass out from sheer emotional overload. But then, a shy smile tugs at his lips, and he nods. “Only if you’ll be mine, too.”

“Deal.” You lean in and kiss him again, softer this time, but no less passionate. He kisses you back eagerly, his arms wrapping around you in the tight, confined space of the broom closet.

Then, just as you’re fully immersed in the moment, the door creaks open.

You both freeze mid-kiss, turning your heads in unison to see Sam standing there, leaning against the doorframe with a knowing grin on his face.

“Well, well,” he drawls, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “So this is where you disappeared to, huh?”

You and Azul are both bright red, scrambling to separate yourselves from each other, but Sam just waves a hand casually. “Don’t mind me. Carry on, lovebirds.” He winks, giving you a conspiratorial look before closing the door behind him.

You’re left standing there, dumbfounded and flustered, while Azul stares at the now-closed door like he’s questioning every life choice that led to this moment.

“Well… that happened,” you mutter, rubbing the back of your neck.

Azul lets out a soft groan, burying his face in his hands. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

You laugh, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him closer. “Hey, at least we’re in this together, right?”

He peeks at you from between his fingers, and after a moment, he smiles, leaning into your embrace. “Yes, I suppose we are.”

The rumors have spread like wildfire. You and Azul—caught making out in a broom closet. Seriously? Of all the places! And you're pretty sure it's that guy who crashed into you earlier, seeking some petty revenge for toppling over you like a stack of books.

The first person to bring it up? Ace, of course.

“So, broom closet, huh? I always knew you were bold, but that’s next level!” he grins, nudging Deuce, who’s already fighting back laughter. Deuce tries to stay composed but fails miserably, snickering. “Dude, a broom closet?”

Azul, standing beside you, looks like he’s two seconds away from melting into a puddle. His face is redder than Riddle on an off day. “I… I don’t… this is...—"

Before he can finish, Floyd suddenly appears, draping his arm over your shoulder. “Whaaat? You didn’t invite me to the show? How rude!” His grin is practically splitting his face. “Azul, you dog! In a closet, huh?”

Jade, always the calm instigator, steps in, his expression innocent but his tone wicked. “How bold of you, Azul. One might expect a more... sophisticated venue, but I suppose a broom closet has its own appeal.”

Azul’s hands are trembling by now, his mouth moving but no sound coming out. He looks like he’s weighing the pros and cons of teleporting to another dimension. Meanwhile, you’re basking in the chaos. If they think they can make you flinch, they’re sorely mistaken.

“Oh, come on, guys,” you say with a smirk, wrapping an arm around Azul’s shoulders. “I mean, look at him. Who wouldn’t want a piece of this? I’d like to see you do better.”

Azul squeaks at your boldness, his body going rigid beside you, but you just give him a reassuring squeeze. “They’re just jealous. Right, dear?”

Ace nearly chokes on his own laughter. “Jealous? Of a broom closet make-out sesh? Sure, we all dream of that kind of luxury.”

Floyd, still howling, points a finger at Azul, “I never thought I’d see the day where you’d make the headlines for this.”

Azul buries his face in his hands. “This is… I can’t… Floyd, please stop.”

Jade chimes in, “I believe this is the first time I’ve seen you so… exposed, Azul.”

You shrug, completely unfazed. “What can I say? We’re just out here, living our best lives, making out in closets.” You give them all a casual salute. “Catch you later, losers!”

Grim, who's been sitting on your shoulder the whole time, pipes up, “I approve! Azul’s rich, and my henchhuman is happy, so I get premium tuna. Everybody wins!”

The teasing? Relentless. But you just wink at Azul and squeeze his hand before pulling him out of the mess. “C’mon, let’s leave these losers behind. They can’t handle us.”

As you walk away, hand in hand, Azul finally finds his voice, though it’s barely above a whisper. “I... I didn’t know you could turn something so mortifying into... whatever that was.”

You grin. “Stick with me, Azul. We’ll be the power couple everyone wishes they were.”

Azul, though still red-faced, can’t help but chuckle under his breath, squeezing your hand just a little tighter as the two of you stroll away, leaving the chaos—and the teasing—far behind.

1k Masterlist ; Main Masterlist

I had to edit this in a hurry because I was convinced Jamil was gonna win till Azul swept in the last few hours

[hemmingsleclerc]

Interruption┃remus lupin

summary: where remus and his girlfriend try to have a romantic moment but sirius and james interrupt them

marauders!era

It was a quiet Saturday afternoon in Gryffindor Tower, and most of the students had taken the opportunity to take a nap or catch up on homework. But Remus and his girlfriend, Y/n, had other plans. They had managed to sneak off to the boy's dormitory for some much-needed alone time.

As they lay in bed, cuddling, the room filled with a romantic tension that had been building for weeks. Just as things were heating up,the door to the dormitory burst open.

“moony have you seen my—” Sirius' voice echoed through the room, followed closely by James.

Y/n let out a shrill scream as she scrambled to cover herself with the nearest blanket. Remus, his face a bright shade of red, did his best to shield them both with the blanket, as he stared at his best friends with wide eyes.

Sirius froze in his tracks, his mouth hanging open in pure horror. “OH MY EYES! MY INNOCENT EYES!” he wailed, dramatically throwing an arm over his face. “I’M TRAUMATIZED FOR LIFE! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING”

James, meanwhile, covered his eyes with his hands and stumbled back towards the door. “I DIDN’T SEE ANYTHING! I SWEAR!” he screamed with his eyes closed.

“SIRIUS, GET OUT!” Remus shouted, his voice with embarrassment and fury. He tugged the blanket tighter around himself and Y/n, trying to shield as much of her as possible from his idiot friends.

“GET OUT? I’M BLIND, MOONY! I CAN’T SEE THE DAMN DOOR!” Sirius wailed, clutching at his face. “PRONGS, HELP ME!”

James, who was still trying to get out of the room without looking, collided with a chair and crashed to the floor. “I CAN’T SEE EITHER!” he screamed in panic. “THIS IS A MESS!”

Y/n, who had already partially recovered from the initial shock, couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "Sirius, turn around and go!" she shouted, still in Remus' arms.

“DON’T LAUGH, Y/N! THIS IS A SERIOUS TRAUMA!” Sirius retorted, finally turning around and stumbling toward the door, still with his arm over his eyes.

James, still trying to find the door, tripped over with sirius' clothes on the floor. “PADS, WAIT FOR ME!”

Remus sighed deeply. “Padfoot, Prongs, I swear if you don’t go in the next ten seconds…”

But before he could finish his sentence, Sirius managed to find the doorknob and threw it open, dramatically waving his other arm as he stormed out. James quickly followed, eyes still closed, and slammed into the door frame before staggering out after Sirius.

When the door finally closed, Remus and Y/n stood in stunned silence. Then, unable to contain themselves any longer, they both burst into uncontrollable laughter as Y/n grabbed her wand to lock the door.

“Well,” Remus said between laughs, “that definitely wasn’t what I expected.”

“So....., where were we?”

Remus leaned down and captured Y/n's lips in a passionate kiss. The blanket that had once been a shield was now forgotten. And they returned to their original plan.

This time, with no interruptions.

[bekaroth-reads]

Baldur’s Gate’s 3 Characters x Reader/Tav Misunderstanding

[This is basically the situation of, “As my partner-“ “Wait, we’re partners?!” Might add more characters later. Proof read but quickly. Sorry if there are mistakes]

Astarion- The two of you were planning out a way to get into a tomb that had some sort of artifact that Astarion insisted was important. “Important,” was, in fact, the only thing that he was using to describe it. This was something that was causing the most problems as you didn’t want to go through the danger of it all for something that might have been nothing more than entertainment for him. When you tried to ask him to give you more details, he snidely scolded, “Listen, as your partner-“

“I’m your partner?!” You interrupt before he could say more.

Immediately, he covered his mouth and his cheeks with his hand, embarrassment flooding in after what he had just said as he turned away. While he could usually recover from almost anything, this struck the line of being too intimate for him to handle. In fact, you were both so flustered and embarrassed from the whole thing that you had to push the planning of everything for the excursion at least a week out. It’s hard to plan adventures when you can’t even look the other person in the eye.

Gale- He thought that you were overworking yourself; and, if Gale Dekarios of all people thought someone was overworking, then it was pretty bad. Then again, you were important to him, so he was also inclined to mother-hen over everything you did. When he thought the time was right, he pulled you aside to gently scold, “I know this is very important. But, as your partner, I must insist-“

“We’re partners?!” You exclaim.

He felt awful as he sees this as him trying to force you into a relationship that you might not have wanted. And, given his history with Mystra, it makes him feel like he has taken on her role, and it makes him nauseous. You will need to take some time to get him to understand it was simply a misunderstanding and that you do want to have a relationship with him.

Raphael- He insisted on taking you to find, “better,” clothing. When you got over the initial insult of the indication that your current choice in clothes was bad, you questioned why he was so adamant on doing so.

“Because, I am a public figure. I cannot have my partner-“ He started to explain before you interrupted,

“I’m your partner?!”

This seemed to entertained him to no end. “Why of course, Little Mouse. Hurry along now.” He hummed as he gave you a tap on the nose before ushering your stunned self out the door.

Haarlep- The two of you finally had an evening to yourselves. They were sitting on the end of your bed in a soft nightshirt, reading a book. It wasn’t even that they were expressly interested in the book, but between all of the scheming with Raphael and succubus work, they couldn’t remember the last time that they had the chance to do something so simple as reading. They gave a contented sigh as they lied back, their horns bumping against your legs where you were sitting farther up on the bed. Without much thought, they sighed, “I am so glad that you are mine.”

“Wait! Are we… partners? Actual partners?” You question in surprise.

They put down their book and turned themselves to lie on their stomach so that they could look at you with gleaming eyes, your reaction seemingly tickling them.

“Well, of course! I’m never this relaxed with anyone but you.” They sat up a bit and motioned to what they had on. “I mean- just look at me! I even put clothes on for you! That’s not something that happens everyday, my sweet.”

Gortash- To say things were tense would be an understatement. Enver Gortash and you had tried to kill each other about a month ago, and you were both nearly successful. It had taken you these past three weeks to heal, and the whole time the both of you were sure the other was going to try to sweep in at any moment and finish the job. Or, you were, and it didn’t take too much imagination to see his situation as the same. You were both in a similar state when your respective parties had broken up your fight.

Now you found out that you would have to work with him publicly for a time. It wasn’t something that you were looking forward to, but it was necessary to get answers for certain things and create opportunities for your team. You were in the hall that this party was being held at; it was nothing fancy, no dancing, no meal- just a simple gathering for some of the upper class to speak with each other and perhaps have a few drinks. You were beyond surprised when Gortash connected eyes with you and instead of an angry or begrudging response, he greeted you with one of the brightest smiles you had ever seen on the man.

“There they are now! The person of the hour!” He walked over to you and wrapped an arm around your waist. There were some compliments and coos of how darling you both looked together, and how you must have been a great match. Soon after the group walked away to give you two a few moments of privacy.

“You said that we were a couple?” You whisper-yelled at him.

“Of course. Because we are.” He whispered back as he leaned closer to purr into your ear, “We did almost kill each other after all.” Gortash gave you a peck on the cheek before moving you both to mingle with the other little groups of people around the room.

[jenomi]

i love you, i'm sorry

pairing: idol!jeno x idol!reader c/w: light physical abuse (reader falls on the floor) a/n: you ask and you shall receive! i got a lot of requests for a part 2, so here it is :3 read part 1 here!! but this can be read on its own :)

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

I push my luck, it shows Thankful you don't send someone to kill me

"why??" you cried tears streaming down your face, "just tell me why, and i'll go."

jeno could only look down at his feet as you asked him for a real reason why he was breaking up with you.

you were fully aware how pathetic this looks from an outsiders perspective, crying and begging for an explanation from a man. but it wasn't any man. it was jeno. your jeno.

"is it something i did? tell me, i'm sorry! let me fix it and make it up to you" your knees stung from crouching on the couch and your eyes and throat hurt from the tears you're shedding.

"i don't see a future with you, y/n" jeno whispered.

you looked up quickly, your eyes opened wide in shock. your voice is so small, you weren't sure if he heard you when you said, "what?"

you always talked about your future. in all honesty, jeno would talk about it more than you. how he'd buy a house for the both of you to start a family and a place comfortable enough to stay home and never have to leave. you loved talking about your future with jeno. it brought you so much joy and comfort. so him using this as a reason to break up didn't make sense but it also hit you where it hurt. how could it bring you comfort when it was the same reason jeno was leaving you?

"look at us now!" jeno was frustrated now, "we barely do anything together, we can't even go outside without being scared. you barely have time for me. how would we ever last?"

you sat there stunned. you were at a lost for words. you thought your love for each other rose above all those problems. you talked about them at length with each other, and you would always assure each other that it was no problem. even last week, you had reassured each other. but now, jeno's coming back and saying it was all a lie? and he's not happy?

jeno shakes his head as he gets up off the couch, "i'm going out, when i come back, have your stuffed packed up and go"

you chase after him and grab his hand. "please baby no. i'll tell my company, i'll find a way to make it work please just don't leave right now. let's talk." you were back to begging.

jeno tried to shake your hand off his. overcome with emotion, jeno used too much strength, and when he tried to shake you off, his force caused you to fall on the floor.

you cried out when you landed on your hands and knees. jeno was so shocked and confused. it was an accident, he never meant to hurt you.

you started sobbing but jeno couldn't comfort you, so he left. he left you crying and bruised on the floor of his apartment.

jeno winces at the memory. he couldn't believe he hurt you, both emotionally and physically, at the same time. what possessed him to do that? he was raised to be a gentleman, but in that moment, he was everything but.

he's surprised he's even alive right now. he knows you told all your closest friends, including his best friend, jisung who you were closest to. he knows the only reason his life wasn't threatened was because you told your friends not to come for him.

and now he's at your door. he knows there's a high chance you'll slam the door in his face, but he needed to see you and speak to you to ease the pain in his chest. he hopes with his whole heart and soul that you'll let him in, because if you don't, he doesn't know if he'll ever be able to recover.

jeno takes a deep breath before knocking on your door.

I tend to laugh whenever I'm sad I stare at the crash, it actually works

you open the door only to pause in shock to see your ex-boyfriend at your door with take out from your favorite restaurant.

"hi?" jeno meant to say but it comes out as a question, a scratch of nervousness and sadness in his voice. "did you eat yet?" he raises the takeout to his chest.

your heart throbs at the question. he would ask you that all the time when you were together and would always nag you to eat something. in the end, he would always order the perfect thing for you, exactly what you wanted even if you didn't know yourself.

"no.." you whisper.

"can i come in?"

ashamedly, you open the door further to let him in without any hesitation. relief floods through jeno's veins.

jeno moves through your apartment with ease, knowing where all your utensils and plates are, knowing which drawers have soft close and which don't, it's like he never left. your heart splints down the middle once again remembering that your relationship isn't what it once was. despite that, you let out a small laugh.

"why are you laughing?" he faces you, eyes curious.

"i don't know," you reply, "i guess i'm sad."

now it's jeno's turn for his heart to split, since when do you laugh when you're sad? is he the reason why? he hopes not, he wants you to remain the girl whose laughter is full of joy, not a girl who laughs to cover for her sadness.

jeno doesn't know what to say, so instead he asks, "how have you been?"

you think it's ironic that he's asking you that knowing full well that he saw you cry during your performance last week. your performance dedicated to him. that night brought up a lot of memories for you, happy memories and seeing jeno on the verge of tears there made you think he missed you too.

but then you remember how it ended. how he left you broken on his apartment floor and then told you to stop reaching out to him. looking back at the mess that was the end of your relationship, you found yourself pushing the memories towards the back of your mind yet again as a feeble attempt to move on.

"fine," you lie. jeno only nods in response.

I wanna speak in code Hope that I don't, won't make it about me

jeno pulls out a chair for you and gestured for you to sit down, then takes the seat closest to you. he begins plating the take out food for you. you want to stop him and tell him you can do it yourself, but its been so long since someone's taken care of you that you can't help but just let it happen. jeno's glad you're not retaliating since he wants to take care of you. it's like second nature to him. he wants to take care of you for the rest of his days. but he doesn't want to scare you off. especially after what he did.

"i saw a smiski at a cafe the other day," jeno says before digging into his food, "i thought of you."

you loved smiskis. they were scattered all around your house, with one sitting with you at the dinner table now. you loved how they were little companions representing a silly, comfortable home life. it reminded you of your own life, and your life with jeno as homebodies.

you smiled at jeno before taking a bite as well. it was cute that he saw those figurines and thought of you. "my friend went to watch the f1 race in the UK and I thought of you when McLaren didn't win," you tease.

jeno chuckles, flashing his signature smile making your heart throb, in agony or love? you're not sure.

you fall into a comfortable silence as you share your meal together. it was alarmingly easy to act like this was just another day after work with your boyfriend.

"how have you been?" you finally ask in return. it was only right.

"busy," he admits. he doesn't want to say there was a reason he purposely tried to keep busy. he didn't want to burden you. and he definitely didn't want you to think you were the problem because he knows it's all him.

"are you taking care of yourself?" you ask him.

"not as well as i was when i had you," he looks into your eyes.

you're stunned into silence, yet again, but with hope and not dread like the last time he spoke to you.

he sets down his chopsticks before folding his hands and facing you, "i came here to tell you i'm sorry. i'm sorry for how we ended and how i left you. it was a shitty thing to do and it haunts me every time i close my eyes to sleep. i don't expect you to forgive me, i wouldn't forgive me. but i know i hurt you with the way i treated you, you didn't deserve that. and i just want to say i'm sorry and you didn't do anything wrong. i was out of my mind. please don't blame yourself."

the wind is knocked out of your lungs at his confession. you were overwhelmed by him admitting his wrongs and calling you out to tell you not to blame yourself, because you were. he apologized but didn't do it to make you forgive him, he wanted to help take the burden of wondering what you did wrong off your own shoulders. it was the closure you needed.

the back of your eyes tingle with tears.

"don't cry," he says wrapping his warm hand over yours on the dining table, "i'll go. i don't want to bother you any longer."

he grabs his plate and rinses it quickly in the sink before heading towards the door.

much like the last time, you quickly get up and grab his hand, "don't go."

jeno turns around, eyes wide and looking into your soul.

"don't go. stay. it's late. you can sleep on the couch." you say still grasping his hand with tears in your eyes.

"okay," he whispers slowly. how could he leave when you ask him to stay?

you grab an extra pillow and blanket from your bedroom and bring it to the couch. as much as you wanted jeno to sleep in bed with you tonight, you needed space to think about what he said and sort out your own thoughts. but you wanted the comfort of knowing he was at home. with you.

you and jeno work together to set up the couch, working in silent synchrony and harmony. the domesticity of it all makes you both emotional.

as you stand back up after tucking a sheet into the couch, jeno wraps you in his arms and says what he came here to say all along,

i love you, i'm sorry

[solarsa1nt]

𐚁֙࿐ PEACHES

uraume x fem!reader

Tags — fluff , heian era , soft uraume

Notes — i use they/them pronouns for uraume!

"Uraume-san! Uraume-san!" Y/N calls, running through the halls of the large shrine to approach the monk.

"Y/N." Uraume greets back neutrally, turning their head away from the village man that they were speaking to moments earlier, tattered clothes dirtying the floors of the shrine.

"Eh?" Y/N pauses, smile faltering as she looks between the two. "Were you busy again? Sorry... I can—"

"No." Uraume interrupts firmly, turning their body to completely face the girl that had started to slink further back into the shrine. "It's fine."

"Really? I don't want to be a nuisance..." Y/N frowns apprehensively.

Uraume sighs at the insecure and nervous behavior coming from the normally out-going girl. "It's only a minor issue, someone else can deal with... him."

Uraume sends a subtle glare back at the man, prompting him to straighten his spine.

"Y-Yes! I should be g-going anyway..." The man stammers, quickly rushing out of the shrine like a scared mouse.

Y/N blinks in surprise as the man disappears from view. "Huh. You're really scary, Uraume-san."

Uraume frowns faintly at the admission, opening their mouth to say something as they look back at Y/N, words dying in their throat at the sight of the girl smiling at them in admiration.

"You and Sukuna-sama are so cool." Y/N sighs with an amazed smile, wonder dancing in her eyes.

Uraume blinks in stunned silence, it (embarrassingly) taking a moment to recover before they speak again. "What is it you wanted, Y/N?"

"Oh, right!" Y/N easily perks back up again, smile returning full-force. "I was wondering if you wanted to go peach picking with me! It's in season!"

"I-If it's not too much of an issue, of course..." Y/N adds, glancing away from Uraume sheepishly. "I wouldn't mind going alone—"

"No, you're not permitted to leave without Sukuna-sama or I joining you after last time." Uraume cuts off bluntly, never the one to sugarcoat things.

"It's not my fault that guy wouldn't leave me alone." Y/N huffs childishly, turning her head to the side with a pout.

"Of course not. It's merely a precaution." Uraume replies, tone completely unreadable. Although when Y/N glances over, her eyes catch onto their hands that were tightening into fists at the mention of that particular attempt.

Of course, people outside the shrine were aware of Y/N— a completely normal human with nothing special about her that, somehow, got in Ryomen Sukuna's favor.

So it didn't take long enough for people to target Y/N whenever she left the safety of the shrine— her being the only person they were able to attack. Uraume could use cursed energy and only a fool would dare to attack Sukuna himself, leaving Y/N the only one to defenseless enough to try to kill.

One man was even brazen enough to try and kidnap her— which resulted in his head being speared outside the village as an unspoken threat.

"So, peach picking?" Uraume prompts, drawing Y/N out of her musings.

"Oh, right! There's this really pretty peach farm an elderly man had last time I visited the village. He even gave me some!" Y/N rants excitedly. "He said I could come back any time and have some more since he doesn't have anyone else to give them to!"

"Hm." Uraume closes their eyes in thought, pausing for a moment before their dark pink eyes peer open again. "Alright, I will accompany you."

"Great! Thank you, Uraume-san!" Y/N squeals, tackling the monk in a hug, holding on for another second or two before pulling away to meet them face-to-face.

Uraume's eyes were blown wide, a faint pink dusting their pale cheeks that matched their eyes. Their lips were parted in shock— as if they went to say something but couldn't muster the words.

"You're the best!" Y/N praises, kissing their cheek before letting go, turning and rushing down the hall.

Uraume breathes in, raising a hand to their cheek as they blink incredulously— unsure of what the warm feeling bubbling in their chest is.

© 𝓢OLARSAINT 2024 ─── all of my works belong me alone! do not copy, steal, plagiarize, or spread any of my works in any other social media platform. these have only been reloaded on my own accounts on ao3 and wattpad

[paigebueckersmommy]

cheering for u - p.b

paige burckers x uconn cheerleader reader

warnings : , fingering

requested

you and paige were both seniors at uconn, you had been cheering all 4 years and paige play basketball all four years.

you had definitely noticed paige, if was hard not to. you had developed a crush on her over the years which your cheer teammates teased you for. there had been times you missed a count after paige made a three, too distracted by her happiness after shooting.

tonight was senior night, and you were gonna field day. paige was looking incredibly sexy tonight, sitting on the sidelines and watching her play, cheering only for her was your favorite thing.

when the game had begun, you were nearly passing out about how stunning paige looked tonight, you didn’t know what was diffrent tonight but something was. the way she looked with her face glistening with beads of sweat and her aggressiveness on the court had your knees weak.

in the 4th quarter, it was obvious uconn would win. after paige took a shot and made it, she crashed into the ground and landed dangerously close to you. she looked into your eyes for a split second while getting up. she winked at you while running away, you started zoning out, replaying the moment in your head. “hey you okay?” you teammate sitting next to you asked. you nod your head with a smirk.

when the final buzzer sounded, you and your teammates stood and cheered lourder than ever. you had caught eye contact with paige, her holding it for 6 seconds before getting pulled away by her teammates.

time had passed, almost the entire arena had been gone when walked out of your locker room when you saw paige sitting on a chair. “hey” paige said as she stood up, “uh hey ? what are you still doing here?” you ask the stunning blonde. “waiting for you actually. wanna come back to my apartment? my team is goin out, they won’t be back for awhile.” paige says with an smirk. “oh um sure yea i gotta grab somethings from my dorm then i’ll be over.” you say with a smile. paige walks away with a smile.

you get home, shower, and shave more parts of your body than necessary. you couldn’t believe that PAIGE BUECKERS invited you to her apartment?

once you finished, you headed outside and got in paige’s car. you insisted her the phone you could drive herself , but she wanted to pick you up. you talk the short drive to her place about random shit and sharing opionions. she asked you about cheer, what practice is like and things of that such.

when you two finally arrived at her apartment, she came around and opened the door for uou agyer says “nuh uh” when you went to open your own door. when you arrived at the door of her aparntment, she also opened your door and said “ladies first” with a smirk across her stunning face .

when you reached her dorm, she immediately pushed you into her bed into a passionate kiss, her hands cupping your cheeks. she starts to lift your shirt over your head, sepeartijg your lips for a second as paige smiles. she starts to take of your shorts, parties coming with.

she starts to rub your clit as you kiss eanring a moan into paige’s mouth. she giggles when you do this, you start to breathily moan into her moan reparteleu when your inturpted by her shoving 3 of her girthy fingers into your needy cunt.

she quickly started to pump in and out very quick , your legs started shaking. “mhm fuck paige i won’t last much longer” you say through moans. “baby who do you cheer for?” paige asks. “you paige i only cheer for you nobody else,” you say moaning.

“that’s what i thought.” paige says with a grin. you release under her, paige licking up all your juices while holding intense eye contact with you while looking down at you. you watch her do so recovering from your orgasm.

“remind me again, who do you cheer for?” paige says with a cocky tone as she plops next to you in her bed.

when you get cleaned up, leads you out of the apartment as we’re 10ft away from the door, kk walks in. she immediately has a look of cousin as she brings up a finger, pointing between you and paige. all you bc old think of to do was look at paige.

“i’ll tell u later.” paige says to kk with a grin.

[justwinginglife]

Hello! May I kindly request a one-shot where the third division has a betting pool about if freader and hoshina are dating (because they kept their relationship a secret, but are kinda obvious about it)?

And the way the others find out is because they either find them in the act or because they accidentally walk in on hoshina proposing to freader?

I love this prompt so much-thank you for fueling my brain with the delicious idea.

The Third Division was a rowdy bunch, though strong and disciplined on the battlefield, at home base they needed to find some manner of venting their chaotic energy. This week, the topic was you and the Vice Captain.

Kafka had made a drunken comment at the party last night that the reason you and Hoshina had both shown up late to dinner was because y'all were fucking somewhere in some back alley and that got people thinking about how you both always seemed to be missing at the same time and reappearing hours later together.

They recalled how you both had showed up to the rookie induction looking somewhat tousled, and you had even smoothed Hoshina's hair back into place for him when you thought no one was watching. What kind of officer dared touch their superior officer that familiarly? There had to be something going on.

And then there was that time when you got injured fighting a kaiju and Hoshina disappeared from his training, claiming he was just doing the rounds but his "rounds" consisted of pacing back and forth in front of the infirmary doors until he got word of your recovering state.

"I bet 20 bucks they're secretly dating." Iharu said grinning as he slapped the bill down on the center of the table. The other officers sitting at the table look around at each other, smirking and nudging one another.

"I'll take that bet. Those two have zero chemistry- you remember when Y/N beat Hoshina's short range combat record? He was pissed. They're rivals, I say. I bet he waited outside of that infirmary to rub her weakness in her face." Haruichi said, leaning back in his chair.

"No way- I bet he thought it was sexy that she beat his record. He was probably just hot and bothered when you thought he was pissed." Someone else chimed in.

"No but remember, she didn't go with Hoshina after that happened. She went up to Narumi instead. I bet she has a thing for Narumi."

"You idiot- didn't you hear her insulting him, saying she was going to kick his ass too? There's no way she'd be into him."

The officers begin arguing about different moments that they remember and who they think you'd be into. One person even suggests you're into Mina instead.

Ichikawa holds his hands up. "Guys, guys. We shouldn't be talking about this, this is private stuff."

The other officers stare at him, waiting for him to continue.

"...but if I had to guess, I'm with Iharu, she's totally dating the Vice Captain." He finishes, earning a couple chuckles around the table.

"Well, well. What do we have here? A little illicit betting ring in the cafeteria?"

All the officers still as the platoon leaders start to file in. They look intrigued and amused.

Someone coughs but then finally explains to them what they're all betting on.

The platoon leaders look at each other and then look around to make sure you and the Vice Captain are nowhere in sight. Then they start throwing money down on the table too. "We're team Y/N and Vice Captain." They whisper and then they walk over to sit at their own table, laughing and shoving at each other.

The officers are stunned at the wad of money that's now collected in front of them.

"Someone's got to figure this out." Iharu mumbles as he eyes the large stack.

"Allow me to answer for you." You say, stepping through the doors of the cafeteria and sweeping up the pile of money.

Everyone's eyes and mouths widen.

"P-Platoon Leader L/N." Ichikawa stutters. "What are you d-doing here?"

You raise an eyebrow. "Settling a bet, apparently." You hold up the bundle of money. Then you call over your shoulder, "What do you think Hoshina? Should we give them their answer?"

The Vice Captain emerges from behind you, causing all eyes to drop to the floor as they avoid his gaze.

He smirks at the sight as he nears them. "We're not dating. And it's none of your business anyway. 50 laps around the building for gossiping. That includes you too." He swings his head around to look at the table of platoon leaders that have been eavesdropping. They lower their heads in defeat and join the officers running out the door.

Then it's just you and Hoshina alone in the cafeteria. He laughs as you flip through all the bills in your hands.

"Told you that you shouldn't have fixed my hair in front of everyone." He teases as he leans down to kiss your cheek.

"And who was the one waiting for me outside the infirmary like an idiot?" You shoot back, pinching his cheek.

He rolls his eyes. "That Kafka has a big mouth. But he's right about one thing. I do wanna fuck you in some back alley, though I'll settle for right here."

He pulls you closer and starts making out with you when suddenly Captain Ashiro walks through the doors, causing you and him to freeze, mid-embrace.

She eyes you both up and down and then says with a smirk, "I'm telling all the officers they owe me money."

[steventhusiast]

STWG prompt 17/4/24

prompt: "oops, that wasn't the plan"

pairing/character(s): steddie

. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Steve's in the middle of squinting as he scans a library shelf for the textbook he needs when he gets rudely interrupted. A body crashes into him with nearly enough force to knock him over, and he only just manages to catch himself on the library shelves in front of him (with only a few casualties in the form of fallen books).

"Oops!" He hears from right behind him, way too loud for where they are. Sure, they're not in the silent study area, but it's still a library. Sudden noises are pretty noticeable.

Once he's recovered, he looks around the university library to see a few people's unimpressed eyes looking in his direction from their study desks. He feels heat rise from his chest to his cheeks at their attention, and suddenly flustered anger is coursing through him, because-

"What the hell?" He whisper yells, spinning around to face whoever had bumped into him.

He's about to start whisper yelling some more at whoever caused this, but then he sees who's stood in front of him, and- shit. He's hot.

Bright red, and with black curly hair up in a messy ponytail stands a guy around his height, with an expression Steve can only describe as mortification on his face. He's dressed in the student go-to late-night library session attire (university branded hoodie, sweatpants and shoes that are somewhere between slippers and clogs), and he's clutching something in one hand as he stares wide-eyed at Steve.

They stare at each other for a moment, and just as Steve's starting to get a little uncomfortable with it and opens his mouth to, once again, ask what the hell, the guy opens his own mouth and rushes out some hushed words.

"That wasn't the plan, I swear." He says nonsensically, and Steve just frowns at him.

"I'm sorry?"

"I'm doing this all wrong." The guy mutters to himself, and suddenly crouches down to pick up the books that had fallen off the shelf.

He seems to use the time facing the ground to collect himself, because once he's stood upright again with the pile of books held in front of him he offers Steve a shy smile.

"My name's Eddie, and you are, just... so attractive and I've been wanting to come and talk to you for, like, an hour, and maybe give you my number? But then, I'm a total clutz, so- so I tripped and almost knocked you over instead. I am so sorry about that, by the way." His nerves seem to come back as he talks, because Steve notices his fingers tap anxiously at the bottom of the book-pile.

Steve's a little stunned by the onslaught of words, and must take too long to respond because Eddie winces after a moment and shakes his head as he averts his eyes.

"This was stupid. I'm so sorry for interrupting your night, you're probably cramming for a test or something." Eddie offers him a wounded smile this time, glancing at his face again, and then makes to turn and walk away.

"Wait- no. You can- um. I would love your number. Sorry, you caught me off guard." Steve says quietly, and Eddie stops moving, eyes going wide again. God, his eyes remind Steve of Bambi.

Steve takes a deep breath and tries to find the charisma he swears he usually has when he's not ambushed with an unexpected hot man.

"I mean, how else will I know how to contact you when I sue you for damages?"

He says it with a smile and a teasing eyebrow raise, but Eddie looks panicked at the words, like that's somehow something he's genuinely worried about, so Steve raises the hand he'd caught himself on the shelves with to show off the slightly reddened base of his palm.

"I'm mortally injured over here, I hope you have good insurance."

Finally, Eddie huffs out a surprised laugh, and the smile stays on his face once he quietens. It's a very pretty smile, much better than the nervous one he was wearing before.

"Right. Well, luckily for you I have my contact details ready to go for situations like this." He says, and (with a little fumbling to reposition the books he's holding) offers Steve an incredibly crumpled up piece of paper.

Steve unfolds it to find a phone number scrawled out, with a ridiculous drawing of a stick figure holding a landline and a speech bubble saying 'call me!'. He carefully folds up the piece of paper, pointedly pockets it, and offers Eddie another smile.

"Thanks, I will for sure be calling later. I just- I am cramming for a test, you were right. So..." He trails off, a little unsure and awkward again.

Eddie just nods, still grinning, and makes to turn around again.

"I'm looking forward to it." He says, and then walks off, ridiculous tower of books still in his hands. Steve watches him go, and then takes a deep breath and looks back at the shelf.

How the fuck is he going to focus on studying now?

[okasuka]

Damian Wayne x Y/N - a stupid mistake.

The fluorescent lights in Gotham Academy’s hallway buzzed faintly overhead, blending with the dull roar of lunchtime chatter. Y/N adjusted her bag as she sorted through her locker. Her life had settled into a strange new normal after months of chaos. She was no longer the same girl Damian Wayne had known, and she had the scars—physical and emotional—to prove it.

Her wavy hair now barely brushed her shoulders, the dark red streak through it catching the light when she moved. Her tan skin, once smooth, bore new marks on her upper arms and shoulders. She didn’t hide them anymore. They were her story, even if she didn’t plan on sharing it.

“Y/N,” a familiar voice broke through her thoughts.

Her hand froze mid-reach, her stomach flipping in a way that disgusted her. She hadn’t heard him say her name in months, not since the day he’d torn her heart out without so much as an explanation. Slowly, she turned to face him.

Damian Wayne stood there, his emerald eyes locked on her face. His posture was perfect, as always, but there was a tightness in his jaw she hadn’t seen before.

“What do you want, Wayne?” she asked, her voice cold.

He flinched at the use of his last name but recovered quickly. “I wanted to talk to you.”

She shut her locker with a sharp clang, shouldering her bag. “That makes one of us.”

“Wait.” He stepped in front of her, blocking her path. “Just—hear me out.”

Y/N crossed her arms. “You have thirty seconds.”

Damian hesitated, his mask of stoicism slipping just a little. “It’s my birthday tomorrow,” he started. “There’s a party at the manor. I want you to come.”

Her brow furrowed, skepticism clear on her face. “You… want me to come? Why?”

“Because,” he said, his voice softening, “I miss—”

“Don’t.” Her voice was sharper now, cutting him off. “Don’t pretend you miss me, Damian. You made it perfectly clear how little I mattered to you eleven months ago.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away. “You’re wrong.”

“Am I?” She laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. “Because from where I’m standing, you got what you wanted. I’m out of your life, and you’re free to be Gotham’s golden boy without any distractions.”

“That’s not what happened.” His voice dropped, low and almost pleading.

Y/N shook her head, unwilling to let him drag her back into the past. “You know what, fine. I’ll come. But not because of you.” She stepped around him, her heart pounding as she walked away.

The next evening, Y/N stared at herself in the mirror, her reflection unfamiliar yet empowering. The dark red dress clung to her curves, the plunging neckline and leg slit making her look dangerous in a way that made her smirk. A bandage peeked out from her shoulder, but she didn’t try to hide it.

“You’ve got this,” she whispered to herself before stepping into her heels.

Wayne Manor loomed ahead, a palace of stone and glass that glowed with golden light. Y/N walked through the grand doors with a confidence she didn’t entirely feel, her eyes scanning the opulent ballroom. Chandeliers glittered overhead, and the sound of laughter and music filled the space.

“Y/N!” one of her friends called, waving her over.

She smiled and joined them near the grand staircase, settling into easy conversation. It felt good to laugh, to feel like herself again, even if a certain pair of green eyes lingered in the back of her mind.

After a while, the heat of the crowded room pushed her toward the bar. She leaned against the polished wood, ordering a drink and savoring the moment of quiet.

“You look stunning.”

The voice sent a shiver down her spine. Turning, she found Damian standing behind her, his gaze tracing the lines of her dress.

“Thanks,” she said curtly, taking a sip of her drink.

“I mean it,” he pressed. “You’ve changed.”

She set her glass down, meeting his gaze with a raised brow. “Yeah, well, life does that to you. You should try it sometime.”

“Y/N…” His voice was softer now, almost hesitant.

“What?” she snapped, the cracks in her composure beginning to show. “What do you want from me, Damian?”

“I want to talk,” he said, stepping closer.

“We are talking.”

“No, I mean—I want to explain.” His eyes searched hers, desperate for understanding. “I made a mistake.”

Her heart clenched painfully, but she refused to let it show. “Oh, you mean dumping me out of nowhere? Breaking six years of trust without so much as a real explanation? Yeah, Damian, I’d call that a mistake.”

He flinched, guilt flashing across his face. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it like?” Her voice rose, drawing a few curious glances from nearby.

Y/N didn’t care. If Damian wanted to start this here, at his glamorous eighteenth birthday party, surrounded by Gotham’s elite, then fine.

“Well?” she pressed. “What was it like, Damian? Because from where I’m standing, it seems like you got bored and threw me away.”

“It wasn’t boredom!” Damian snapped, his calm façade finally cracking. “I was trying to protect you.”

Y/N blinked, stunned into silence for a moment. Then she laughed—a bitter, disbelieving sound. “Protect me? Are you serious? That’s your excuse?”

“Yes,” he said firmly, stepping closer. “You don’t understand what I deal with, Y/N. The people I fight, the threats I face—they don’t just target me. They target the people I care about. I thought—” He stopped, taking a breath. “I thought if I pushed you away, you’d be safer.”

Her jaw tightened, the anger bubbling up again. “So you decided that for me? Without even talking to me about it? Without giving me the chance to choose for myself?”

“You don’t get it,” Damian insisted. “People die in my world, Y/N. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you because of me.”

“Newsflash, Damian: things already happened to me,” she shot back, gesturing to her scarred shoulder. “You don’t think I know what danger is? You don’t think I can handle myself?”

“I know you can,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “But that doesn’t mean I can handle losing you.”

The words hung between them, heavy and raw. Y/N stared at him, her heart warring with her head. For a moment, she saw the boy she used to know—the one who had fought beside her, laughed with her, and held her when things got hard. But that boy had also broken her.

She shook her head, her voice trembling. “You already did.”

Damian flinched like she’d struck him, his fists clenching at his sides. “I thought I was doing the right thing,” he muttered, almost to himself.

“Yeah, well, congratulations,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “You did a great job. I hope it was worth it.”

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the ballroom. The cold night air hit her like a slap, but it did nothing to cool the fire in her chest. She walked to the edge of the driveway and sank down onto the curb, her shoulders shaking as tears finally spilled over.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat there, her breath fogging in the winter air. The sound of footsteps on the gravel made her stiffen, but she didn’t look up.

“Y/N.”

Of course it was him. She wiped her face hastily, refusing to let him see her cry. “What do you want now, Damian?”

“I want to fix this,” he said softly, stopping a few feet away. “I want to fix us.”

She laughed bitterly, her head still bowed. “You can’t just decide that now. You don’t get to rip my heart out and then show up eleven months later pretending you care.”

“I’ve always cared,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “I never stopped.”

“Then why didn’t you fight for me?” she demanded, finally looking up at him. Her eyes were red and glistening, her expression equal parts anger and heartbreak. “Why did you let me go if you cared so much?”

“Because I was scared!” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I didn’t know how to keep you safe. And when I realized I’d made a mistake, I thought it was too late. I thought you’d moved on.”

Y/N stood, brushing dirt off her dress. “You were right. I did move on. I had to, because you left me no choice.”

He stepped closer, his eyes searching hers. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I’m asking for another chance. Please.”

Her heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice, but she shook her head. “I can’t, Damian. Not like this. I’ve spent the last year putting myself back together, and I can’t let you tear me apart again.”

“I wouldn’t—” he started, but she cut him off.

“You don’t know that,” she said quietly. “And I can’t take that risk.”

For a long moment, they just stared at each other, the weight of everything unsaid between them. Finally, Damian nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Y/N’s lips trembled, but she forced herself to stay strong. “So am I.”

Without another word, she turned and walked away, the sound of her heels echoing against the cold stone. Damian watched her go, his chest tight with regret, knowing this time, he was the one left behind.

Damian stayed rooted to the spot long after Y/N disappeared into the night. The cold air bit at his skin, but it was nothing compared to the ache in his chest. He’d faced assassins, criminals, and monsters without flinching, but watching her walk away felt like the most painful thing he’d ever endured.

He ran a hand through his hair, his mind replaying every word of their argument. He couldn’t blame her for her anger, her pain. She had every right to shut him out, to protect herself after what he’d done. But it didn’t make the loss any easier to bear.

Inside the manor, the party continued without him, the sound of laughter and music a cruel backdrop to his turmoil. Damian finally turned and walked back inside, ignoring the curious stares from guests who’d witnessed part of their confrontation.

“Hey, Dames!” a voice called out as a girl stepped into his path. Her voice was bubbly, her dress glittering as she batted her eyelashes at him. “What happened out there? Everything okay?”

Damian didn’t even respond. He brushed past her without a glance, his steps quickening as he made his way to the nearest empty room.

Meanwhile, Outside

Y/N walked briskly down the driveway, her arms crossed tightly against the chill. Her vision was blurry with tears, but she kept moving, not trusting herself to stay on the grounds a second longer.

“Y/N!”

She turned at the sound of her name to see one of her closest friends, Lena, jogging to catch up with her. “Hey, are you okay? What happened back there?”

Y/N shook her head, her voice cracking as she spoke. “I shouldn’t have come. This was a mistake.”

Lena frowned, placing a comforting hand on Y/N’s arm. “Did Damian say something? What did he do?”

Y/N let out a shaky laugh. “He just… he doesn’t get it. He thinks he can just apologize and fix everything like it didn’t happen. Like he didn’t destroy me.”

Lena’s expression darkened. “That idiot. He doesn’t deserve you, Y/N. You’ve come so far without him. Don’t let him drag you back down.”

“I won’t,” Y/N said firmly, wiping her eyes. “I can’t. I’m done with him, Lena. I have to be.”

“Good,” Lena said, looping her arm through Y/N’s. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ve got ice cream at my place. We can watch trashy movies and forget all about this night.”

For the first time that evening, Y/N smiled. “That sounds perfect.”

Back at the Manor

Damian sat in his father’s study, staring blankly at the flickering fireplace. He barely registered the sound of Bruce entering the room until the older man spoke.

“You look like you’ve been through a war,” Bruce said, his voice calm but concerned.

“In a way, I have,” Damian muttered, his gaze fixed on the flames.

Bruce walked over, taking the seat across from him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Damian sighed heavily, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “I thought I was protecting her by letting her go. I thought if I distanced myself, she’d be safe. But now…” He trailed off, clenching his fists.

Bruce studied him for a moment before speaking. “Protecting the people you care about is noble, Damian. But it doesn’t mean much if it comes at the cost of their trust. Or their happiness.”

“I know that now,” Damian admitted, his voice low. “But it’s too late. She’s moved on, and I…” He swallowed hard, the words catching in his throat. “I think I’ve lost her for good.”

Bruce leaned back, his expression thoughtful. “People need time, Damian. Time to heal, time to forgive. If you truly care about her, give her that time. And when she’s ready—if she’s ready—be there for her.”

Damian didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he stared into the fire, Bruce’s words echoing in his mind.

Weeks Later

Y/N had thrown herself back into her routine, focusing on school, training, and her friends. Life wasn’t perfect, but it was hers, and she was determined to own it.

One afternoon, as she walked through Gotham’s streets on her way home, she spotted a familiar figure in the distance. Damian stood near the entrance of a bookstore, his hands in his pockets as he watched her approach.

Her first instinct was to walk the other way, but something in his expression stopped her. He didn’t look arrogant or confident like he usually did. He looked… uncertain.

When she reached him, she crossed her arms. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk,” he said, his voice cautious. “No pressure. No expectations. Just talk.”

Y/N hesitated, her mind racing. Part of her wanted to turn him away, to protect herself from the pain he’d caused. But another part—the part that still remembered the boy she’d once loved—whispered that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something different.

She sighed. “Alright. Let’s talk.”

Damian’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and he gestured toward the bookstore. “There’s a café inside. I’ll buy you coffee.”

As they walked inside, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder what the future held. She wasn’t ready to forgive him completely, but maybe, just maybe, this was the first step toward something new—something better.

Inside the Bookstore Café

Y/N sat across from Damian at a small wooden table near the window. The smell of roasted coffee beans filled the air, and the quiet hum of conversation provided a soft backdrop to their uneasy silence.

Damian returned from the counter with two cups, setting one in front of her. She glanced at it, raising an eyebrow.

“Still black coffee with a splash of hazelnut, right?” he asked, his voice low.

She hesitated before nodding. “Yeah.”

He sat down, his hands curling around his own mug as he looked at her. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the tension between them thick enough to cut.

“You said you wanted to talk,” Y/N prompted, breaking the silence. “So talk.”

Damian took a deep breath, his emerald eyes locking onto hers. “I know I already apologized at the party, but I need to say it again. I was wrong to push you away. I was wrong to decide for you, and I was wrong to think I could protect you by hurting you.”

Y/N’s fingers tightened around her mug. “You’ve got that right.”

“I know you don’t owe me anything,” he continued. “But I want you to know how much I regret what I did. Every day for the past year, I’ve thought about what I could’ve done differently. About how badly I screwed up.”

She stayed silent, letting him talk.

“You were my best friend, Y/N,” Damian said, his voice softening. “You still are, at least to me. I didn’t just lose my girlfriend that day. I lost… everything.”

Y/N’s chest tightened at his words, but she forced herself to stay composed. “You hurt me, Damian. More than anyone ever has. And it wasn’t just the breakup—it was the way you did it. You didn’t trust me enough to let me make my own choices. You didn’t think I was strong enough to handle your world.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “And I was wrong. I see that now.” He paused, looking down at his coffee. “When I saw you again—how strong you’ve become, how much you’ve changed—I realized you didn’t need my protection. You never did. I just… I didn’t know how to deal with how much you meant to me.”

Y/N stared at him, her emotions swirling. Part of her wanted to scream at him for his selfishness, for the pain he’d caused. But another part—a smaller, quieter part—recognized the sincerity in his voice.

“What do you want from me, Damian?” she asked finally.

He looked up, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite place. “I want to make things right. I don’t expect you to forgive me or take me back, but… I want to earn back your trust. Even if we’re just friends.”

Y/N blinked, startled by his words. “Friends?”

“If that’s all you’re willing to give me,” he said earnestly, “then yes. I’ll take it. I just want to be in your life again, Y/N. In any way you’ll allow.”

Her heart ached at his vulnerability. She could see how much it had cost him to say those words, to let his walls down in front of her.

She leaned back in her chair, studying him carefully. “It’s not going to be easy, Damian. You don’t just get to waltz back into my life and pretend like nothing happened.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “And I’m not asking for that. I’ll do whatever it takes to prove myself to you.”

Y/N took a deep breath, her gaze flickering to the window. The snow outside had started to fall lightly, blanketing Gotham in a soft white glow. When she looked back at Damian, she saw something different in him—a patience, a humility she hadn’t seen before.

“Alright,” she said slowly. “We can try being friends. But that’s all it is, Damian. Friends.”

A flicker of relief crossed his face, though he quickly masked it. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

Y/N nodded, her resolve firm. She wasn’t ready to let him back into her heart, but she wasn’t ready to shut the door completely either. Maybe, with time, they could find their way back to something—whether it was friendship, closure, or something else entirely.

For now, though, they sipped their coffee in silence, the weight between them lighter than it had been in months. Outside, the snow continued to fall, covering the city in a fresh start.

Weeks Turn into Months

The tentative friendship between Y/N and Damian became a strange new rhythm in both their lives. They weren’t close like they once had been, but they were something.

Damian started showing up—quietly and without pretense. He’d appear at the bookstore where Y/N worked part-time, browsing the shelves but always leaving with a book he didn’t need. He’d swing by the park during her morning runs, offering nothing but a small nod before continuing his training nearby.

Y/N let him linger on the edges of her life, unsure how to feel about his presence. Part of her resented him for trying to slip back in so seamlessly, but another part—a part she hated admitting existed—felt comforted by it.

One Evening at the Bookstore

The shop was quiet as Y/N stacked books onto a display table. The soft hum of music played over the speakers, and the warm light made the space feel cozy despite the cold outside.

“Excuse me, do you have anything on classical fencing techniques?”

She froze mid-stack, recognizing the voice instantly. Slowly, she looked up to see Damian standing on the other side of the table, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“You’re kidding, right?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “You could write a book on fencing.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “Maybe I’m just trying to support local business.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smirk that crept onto her face. “A likely story.”

He leaned against the table, his gaze soft. “How’s your shoulder?”

Y/N stiffened slightly, the question catching her off guard. She hesitated before answering. “Better. The scarring’s still there, but it doesn’t hurt as much anymore.”

“That’s good,” he said, his voice earnest. “I’m glad.”

An awkward silence stretched between them before she cleared her throat and gestured toward the back. “Fencing books are in the martial arts section. You know where it is.”

He gave her a small nod and started toward the aisle but paused halfway. Turning back, he added, “You should text me if you need a sparring partner. You’ve got a mean right hook, but your footwork could use some work.”

She scoffed, unable to stop a laugh. “Bold of you to assume I’d want to spend more time with you, Wayne.”

He smirked, the confidence she remembered so well flickering to life. “Just putting the offer out there.”

As he disappeared into the shelves, Y/N shook her head, biting back a smile. Damian Wayne was nothing if not persistent.

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

It wasn’t all smooth sailing. They fought—often and fiercely. Y/N called Damian out whenever he got too cocky or overstepped his boundaries, and he, in turn, challenged her to be honest about her feelings.

One particularly brutal argument happened during a late-night training session at the manor. Y/N had reluctantly agreed to spar with Damian in the cave, hoping to get in some practice without any emotional baggage. But, as always, emotions found their way in.

“You’re hesitating,” Damian said sharply, dodging her punch and countering with a sweep kick that sent her to the mat.

“No, I’m thinking,” she snapped, pushing herself up.

“You’re holding back,” he argued, stepping back to let her regain her footing. “You’re not fighting like you mean it.”

“Maybe I don’t feel like fighting you,” she shot back, her voice rising. “Maybe I’m sick of you always pushing me!”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m pushing you because I know you’re better than this. You’re stronger than this.”

“Strong enough for what?” she demanded, tossing her gloves to the side. “For your approval? For your world? What are you even trying to prove, Damian?”

“I’m not trying to prove anything!” he yelled, his composure breaking. “I’m trying to help you see that you don’t need anyone to save you—not me, not anyone!”

Y/N froze, her breath hitching. For a moment, neither of them moved, the weight of his words settling between them.

She broke the silence first, her voice trembling. “I don’t need you to tell me that, Damian. I’ve known it for a long time.”

With that, she grabbed her bag and left, leaving Damian standing alone in the cave.

The Breaking Point

Weeks passed before they spoke again. Y/N avoided the manor, choosing to focus on herself and her friends. Damian respected her space, though it killed him to do so.

It wasn’t until a Gotham-wide crisis—a coordinated attack by a group of mercenaries—forced them to work together that things came to a head. Fighting side by side brought back old memories, but it also reignited unresolved feelings.

After the dust settled, Y/N and Damian found themselves on a rooftop, overlooking the city. The adrenaline was fading, replaced by an aching exhaustion.

“You didn’t have to follow me into the line of fire,” Y/N said, breaking the silence.

“I wasn’t going to let you get hurt,” Damian replied, his voice firm.

She turned to him, her eyes blazing. “I can take care of myself, Damian. I don’t need you to protect me.”

“I know that,” he said quietly. “But I’ll never stop wanting to.”

Her breath caught at his words. For the first time in a long time, she saw the boy she’d fallen for—not the cold, calculating heir to the Wayne legacy, but the Damian who had once been her best friend.

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “This isn’t easy for me, Damian. Letting you back in. Trusting you.”

“I don’t expect it to be easy,” he said, stepping closer. “I just want the chance to try.”

Y/N looked at him, her heart pounding. She didn’t know if she could forgive him fully, or if they could ever go back to what they once had. But for the first time, she felt a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, they could build something new.

“Alright,” she said softly. “But you’re on thin ice, Wayne.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “I’ll take it.”

They stood there in silence, the city stretching out before them, as the first light of dawn broke through the Gotham skyline.

A Fragile Beginning

The morning light painted Gotham in a pale orange hue, the quiet hum of the city a stark contrast to the storm raging in Y/N’s heart. She stood beside Damian on the rooftop, his words lingering in her mind.

“I just want the chance to try.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the stillness between them fragile but oddly comforting. Y/N finally sighed, running a hand through her hair.

“We should head back,” she said, her voice quieter than she intended. “Your family’s probably looking for you.”

Damian hesitated but nodded. “Let me walk you home.”

She opened her mouth to refuse but stopped herself. The exhaustion from the fight, combined with the emotional weight of their conversation, left her too drained to argue.

“Fine,” she muttered, turning toward the fire escape. “But don’t think this means anything.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Damian replied, a faint smirk tugging at his lips as he followed her down.

The Walk Home

The streets were quieter than usual, the aftermath of the attack leaving an uneasy calm over the city. Damian walked beside Y/N, his hands tucked into his pockets. He kept his distance, sensing her need for space.

“So…” Damian began, breaking the silence. “How’s life outside the vigilante world? You still working at the bookstore?”

“Yeah,” she replied shortly. “It’s steady. Normal.”

“Do you like it?”

Y/N shot him a sidelong glance. “Why do you care?”

He stopped walking for a moment, forcing her to slow down and turn to face him.

“Because I want to know about your life,” he said earnestly. “I want to know what makes you happy, Y/N. Even if I’m not part of it.”

The sincerity in his voice caught her off guard. She stared at him for a moment before sighing and continuing down the street.

“It’s fine,” she admitted. “I like the quiet. After everything, I needed something… simple.”

Damian nodded, falling into step beside her again. “I get that.”

They walked in silence for a few more blocks, the tension between them softening slightly. When they finally reached her apartment building, Y/N turned to face him.

“Thanks for walking me home,” she said, her tone neutral.

Damian gave her a small nod. “Anytime.”

As she turned to go inside, he hesitated before speaking again. “Y/N.”

She paused, glancing back at him.

“I meant what I said,” he told her. “I’ll take things at your pace. Just… don’t shut me out completely, okay?”

Y/N stared at him for a long moment, her emotions warring inside her. Finally, she nodded. “We’ll see, Wayne.”

With that, she disappeared into the building, leaving Damian standing alone on the sidewalk.

Over the Next Few Weeks

True to his word, Damian didn’t push. He was patient, showing up in small, unexpected ways. He’d bring her coffee during her shifts at the bookstore, offer a quick sparring session in the gym, or even just send a simple text checking in.

At first, Y/N was skeptical, waiting for him to revert to his old, arrogant self. But as the weeks passed, she began to see a different side of him—a side she hadn’t seen in years. He was still Damian, sharp-tongued and stubborn, but there was a humility to him now, a quiet determination that caught her off guard.

One evening, after a particularly grueling training session, Y/N found herself sitting beside him on the mats, her breathing heavy.

“You’ve gotten better,” Damian said, handing her a water bottle.

“I’ve had good teachers,” she replied, taking a sip.

He smirked. “Good to know I’m still useful for something.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips.

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Damian spoke again, his tone uncharacteristically soft.

“I’m proud of you, you know.”

Y/N blinked, startled. “What?”

He turned to face her, his expression serious. “You’ve been through hell, and you came out stronger. You didn’t let it break you.”

She looked away, her throat tightening. “It wasn’t easy,” she admitted. “But I didn’t have a choice. I had to keep going.”

“That’s what makes you incredible,” Damian said quietly.

Y/N’s heart ached at his words, a mix of emotions swirling inside her. She wasn’t ready to forgive him completely, but moments like this made it harder to keep her walls up.

A Turning Point

One Friday evening, Y/N found herself at the Wayne Manor again, this time for a small gathering Alfred had organized for the family and their closest friends.

She’d initially refused the invitation, but Alfred’s gentle insistence—and Lena’s encouragement—had worn her down.

“You look great,” Lena said as they walked up to the manor’s grand entrance.

Y/N glanced down at her outfit, a simple black dress paired with a leather jacket. “It’s nothing fancy.”

“That’s why it works,” Lena replied with a grin. “Effortless and badass. Classic you.”

Inside, the atmosphere was warm and lively, a stark contrast to the chaos of Damian’s birthday months ago. Y/N spotted Bruce talking with Alfred near the fireplace, while Tim and Stephanie argued over a board game in the corner.

“Y/N.”

She turned to see Damian approaching, dressed casually in a dark sweater and slacks. His expression softened when he saw her.

“You came,” he said, a hint of surprise in his voice.

“Alfred can be very persuasive,” she replied, crossing her arms.

Damian smirked. “That he can.”

They stood there for a moment, the noise of the room fading into the background.

“Do you want to step outside?” he asked suddenly.

Y/N hesitated before nodding. “Sure.”

On the Balcony

The cool night air was refreshing as they stepped onto the balcony overlooking the Wayne estate. The stars were faint but visible, a rare sight in Gotham.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Damian said after a moment.

Y/N leaned against the railing, her gaze fixed on the horizon. “It still feels weird, being here. After everything.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But I’m glad you gave it a chance.”

She turned to face him, her expression serious. “What are we doing, Damian? I need to know.”

He looked at her, his eyes searching hers. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I know I don’t want to lose you again.”

Her chest tightened at his words, the vulnerability in his voice cutting through her defenses.

“I don’t want to get hurt again,” she whispered.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said firmly, stepping closer. “Not again. I swear it.”

Y/N searched his face, looking for any sign of deception, but all she saw was sincerity. Slowly, she nodded.

“Alright,” she said quietly. “But this is your last chance, Damian. If you mess this up, we’re done.”

His expression softened, and he reached out, hesitating for a moment before gently taking her hand.

“I won’t mess it up,” he promised.

For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt a flicker of hope—not just for them, but for herself.

A New Beginning

The road ahead wasn’t easy. They had arguments, setbacks, and moments of doubt, but they also had laughter, shared victories, and a growing trust that began to heal old wounds.

Damian worked tirelessly to prove himself, not just with words but with actions. He showed up for her in ways that mattered—listening when she needed to talk, giving her space when she needed it, and standing by her side through every challenge.

And slowly, Y/N found herself letting him back in, one piece at a time.

By the time spring rolled around, they’d found a new rhythm—a partnership built on honesty, respect, and the hard lessons they’d both learned.

One evening, as they sat on the rooftop of Y/N’s apartment, watching the city lights below, Damian turned to her, a rare smile on his face.

“You know,” he said, “for all my mistakes, there’s one thing I’ll never regret.”

“What’s that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Meeting you,” he said simply.

Y/N’s heart swelled at his words, and for the first time, she allowed herself to believe in the possibility of a future with him—a future where they could build something stronger than what they’d had before.

With a small smile, she leaned her head against his shoulder, the warmth of his presence grounding her.

“Me neither, Wayne,” she murmured. “Me neither.”

And for the first time in a long time, they both felt at peace.

[iinotinlxve]

↪✩dense

⤷ characters: bachira x fem!reader

⤷ summary: bachira has had a crush on reader for months now, but he's never racked up the courage for a full confession. Instead, he throws subtle hints and compliments towards her, hoping she can pick up on his feelings. however, reader is as dense as ever and has absolutely no clue.

⤷ a/n: where's all the good blue lock content??!! wc: 869

"(Y/nnnnnnnn)~~!!!"

You were caught completely off-guard as Bachira jumped onto you seemingly out of nowhere, latching his arms around your neck and wrapping his legs around your hips. He seemed to be in a good mood- he was absolutely beaming.

"Ack..-" You regained your footing and glanced back at him. "What're you doing..?"

"I've missed you!" He leaned forward so his head was closer to yours. After another second of holding onto you, he let go and landed on the soft grass.

"I've only been gone for a few hours..." You turned to face him.

"Doesn't matter!" Bachira smiled before taking a second to look at you.

"..You look nice today."

"Thanks."

Another sarcastic answer. You always sounded that way.. Like you believed he was messing with you, or that he was teasing you as a friend. But he never was. He truly meant everything he was saying to you. He hoped that one day you might take it to heart...

"Did you cut your hair?" He recovered from his brief moment of inner thought, pointing at your hair that seemed to be shorter than it was before.

"Oh, yeah, I did!" You replied, tucking some of your hair behind your ears.

"It looks cute on you."

Another attempt. Another attempt at maybe getting you to notice what he was trying to do here. Maybe you'd notice his change of demeanor.. his quiet words.. something?

"Whatever~" You laughed, ruffling his hair and walking straight past him.

You always laughed things off. Every time he complimented you, got physically close to you, even outright flirted with you, you would just laugh and find some way to change the subject. Did you not believe him? Or were you just that dense...

He watched you walk away with distant eyes. How many times had he told you how attractive you look? How pretty your eyes were... how soft your skin felt. And yet, you never seemed to catch on. He wondered if he was being too subtle, which seemed insane..

"Hey, (y/n).."

He jogged to catch up with you.

"Are you going to the dance on Friday?"

"The dance..?" You shot him a speculative look. "Umm.. I wasn't planning to."

"But you'd look pretty in a dress."

You only shrugged. "They're expensive.. And besides, it takes so much effort to plan and get ready and-"

Bachira watched you talk for a minute before cutting you off.

"You're so dense."

This statement caught you off-guard, and you looked at him in surprise.

"What?"

Bachira seemed to have realized what he said, immediately tensing as you confronted him about it.

"I-I mean..."

He glanced away for a second before looking back at you with more determination. It was too late to back out now... This was the closest he's been to admitting his feelings for you. He had to take this chance.

"Can you really not see what I'm trying to do here? I've been throwing hints at you for forever.."

"Hints?" Your face scrunched up in confusion. Was he saying what you think he's saying..?

"Yes, hints.." Bachira looked directly at you. "I like you. I'm not just being nice, I mean it. I love you."

You froze completely, staring at Bachira like a deer in headlights. Was he being serious? He had never been direct like this before. It made your mind go blank.

"You.. love me?"

Nothing in Bachira's face said that he was lying. He looked completely serious. You were stunned.

The heat of the moment had ended, and Bachira's face softened.

"Do you..."

You swallowed. "I love you too."

Bachira's eyes widened, his mouth hanging open from his unfinished sentence. He suddenly got nervous, his heart skipping a beat as a wave of surprise and excitement washed through him.

You loved him.

Bachira wasn't quite sure what he had been expecting. He had said everything on a whim, relying only on his built-up frustration to communicate his thoughts. But now...

Bachira was suddenly aware how close the two of you were. He felt your hand brush up against his, sending jolts of electricity through his body. He was still stunned, but slowly reached out and interlocked his fingers with yours. He was suddenly aware of how close the two of you were.

Kiss her. Kiss her.

His thoughts echoed in his head, his heart absolutely beating out of his chest. He had been waiting for this for so long.

Slowly, he leaned in- and gently brushed his lips against yours. You responded to him, leaning forward ever-so-slight and kissing him more firmly.

Bachira moved his hand to cup the side of your face, his brain feeling fuzzy as he focused entirely on the sensation of the kiss. His heart was racing, even as he pulled away.

You had just kissed. That meant.. his confession had paid off. He finally had you. You were finally his...

Your eyes were so beautiful.

That was the only thought he could manage as he looked at you. When he did finally collect himself, his face lit up, and he laughed.

"Ha-ha! You're all flustered.."

"Seriously?!"

You pushed him affectionately, a smile spreading across your face.

The smile that was now his.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Bookworm

Summary: Clark Kent/Superman x Fe!Reader -> Clark surprises you with a library...of sorts. But that's not the only surprise in store.

Disclaimer: This is based in the 90s Superman series but I haven't finished it so no spoilers please. There aren't any spoilers in this, I don't think. I just fancied writing something for this era of Clark Kent. Mostly fluff, Reader works at the Daily Planet and has the nickname 'Bookworm'. Mutual pining, idiots in love, friends-to-lovers, a dash of angst/sad I guess, small mention/description of periods/cramps. Not Proof Read.

…Klara’s latest book provides a new light on what has been a dwindling sector for the publishing industry. In her very first interview for her latest novel, she said-

Typing away at your next article for The Daily Planet, you felt a small pinch to your side before the entire chaos exploded into your lower back, leaving nothing more than a deepening dull ache. 

For a moment, you lowered your head and pressed your hand to your lower back. 

“You okay there, Bookworm?”

You looked up and found Jimmy standing by your desk, a pile of papers in his hand. You tried your best to recover. 

“I’m fine. Just a little pain. What’s up?”

“Publishers called.” He handed you the note and the fax sheets. “They’ve got three new authors and they want you to write about their books. They’re not published yet but an early review from you means more people will probably read their books when they finally do come out.”

Taking the sheets from him, you nodded. “I’ll give them a read.”

You’d worked at The Daily Planet since you’d left University. You’d started out as Cat Grant’s assistant until Mr White needed someone to write an article on a book that had been sent to him. The author was relatively new but he’d decided to give them a shot. 

He had planned on giving the task to Cat, until you walked into the office and found the book on his desk. 

“For all I know, it’s another Cinderella romance but I’d like you to write a piece on it. 500 words? It doesn’t have to be too much.”

“It’s not.”

They both looked at you. It wasn’t often you spoke up when you were in meetings. More than anything, you were quiet and got on with your job. You also had the ability to avoid hitting people when you walked through the office, which made hiring you a lot easier for Mr White than it did hiring anyone else. 

“Excuse me?”

Your weight shifted from foot to foot. “W-Well, it-it’s not a Cinderella romance. I’ve read it. It’s about a woman’s journey returning home after a tragedy. I-I mean, it does have romance. She falls in love with her best friend of, like, ten years. But it’s mostly about her journey dealing with grief, past mistakes and new opportunities.”

Both Mr White and Cat looked at you stunned. But as they looked back at each other, they seemed to have a silent conversation. Then Mr White smiled. Looking up at you, he shook the book at you. 

“I want you to write me a piece on this book.”

“Sir-”

“You’ve clearly read it. Write me a piece. If I like it, and more importantly, if the public likes it…I’ll hire you as a full time entertainment journalist. I’ve got more books than I know what to do with. ‘Course, you’ll do more than just write about books, but…”

Cat looked at you with a kinder smile than you’d seen on her face before. 

“S-Sir, I-I don’t know if that’s-”

“She’ll do it.”

Leaving the office, you followed behind Cat. “A-Are you sure? I don’t know if-”

Stopping in her tracks with a sigh, she turned on her heels and faced you. “You didn’t apply here just to be my assistant. And I’ve read some of your work.”

“You have?”

“You sent in two articles, right? When you applied?”

You nodded. 

“You can do this. Now go and do it.”

Four years later, you’d gained the nickname ‘Bookworm’, you had your own desk and you spent most of your time reading and writing reviews. 

“What is it today? Romance? True Crime? Fantasy?”

Looking over your book, you found Clark Kent leaning on the wooden divider between your desk and Cat’s. You got a promotion, but considering you already had a desk, you didn’t need to be moved. 

You smiled. “You’re back. When did you get back?”

“Just now.”

“Did Lois get what she wanted?”

Clark nodded with a smile as he pulled a chair up to your desk. “And more. I think the janitor will still be shaking from her interrogation in a week’s time.”

You felt yourself laugh a little.

“So what are you reading?”

“Oh,” holding up your book, you showed him and he read it. 

“Any good?”

You shrugged. “It’s a non-fiction lifestyle. Right now I’d rather be fighting dragons on top of mountains.”

Clark laughed. “I’m sure I would, too.”

“But, it’s not too bad. It’s not as condescending as the last one. It’s got a little more science behind it than just someone’s opinion. Did you know the brain is the fattiest organ in the body?”

“I did not.”

“And that we need the healthy fats from fish to help stabilise the cell walls in it?”

Clark nodded, leaning on your desk a little. “Sounds interesting.”

“Those parts are. The others are just kinda…meh.”

“Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go and get some coffee or something. There’s something I want to show you.”

You studied him for a moment. “Show me what?”

“You’ll see.”

Looking at your desk. Your article was finished and you’d almost finished with your book. You could do with a break. 

“Okay.”

“Great.”

As you stood with Clark, you felt yourself lean forward and grip your desk. “Ow.”

“You okay?”

You just nodded. “I-I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Clark sounded worried. “Bookworm, you’re looking a little pale. Are you sure?”

Taking a few deep breaths, you stood up straight. “I’m okay. Just…that time of the month.”

“Oh…” Clark didn’t know what to say exactly. 

“I’m okay, let’s just keep walking. It’ll pass.”

Clark nodded and you grabbed your jacket from your chair before following him towards the elevator and out into the city. 

“You know, we don’t have to do this today if you’d rather just-”

“Clark,” you smiled. “Honestly, I’m fine. It’s not uncommon for me. It can just be abrupt sometimes. But I’m okay.”

“Promise?”

You nodded. “Promise.”

Clark gave you a smile and you felt your insides warm. 

It was often like that when he smiled at you. A warm feeling would spread through you, just after a swarm of butterflies had flapped their wings. In complete honesty, you hadn’t noticed it at first. It wasn’t until after the fifth guy you’d been set up on a date with by Cat and she asked you why, that you realised. 

The guy had been…okay. Out of the five, number three was probably the closest to who you’d dated in the past. He seemed a little more your type. But still…nothing. 

“Well, what are you looking for? I can’t keep sending men your way if you’re not gonna go on another date with them.”

“You could stop trying to set me up.”

“But you need life experience! You need someone who isn’t King Lancelot on Treasure Island.”

You smiled. “I think you mean King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. And Treasure Island is a separate book.”

Cat rolled her eyes. “My point is, you need someone who isn’t…fictional. You need someone who makes you feel something.”

“But they do make me feel something. Some books are actually pretty sad.”

A small groan left Cat. “You need someone who can actually touch you. Someone who isn’t just words on a page. Did you not feel anything? Not even for Roger?”

You bit your lip, scrunched your nose and shook your head. “Not really.”

“Not even a single butterfly?”

You shook your head. 

“But he was so cute.”

You nodded. “He was cute…to you. I-I just…didn’t feel anything. He was good looking. Just not my type.”

“Then who is?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t know. Handsome. I can’t explain it.”

Cat sat back with a sigh but as she looked around the office, she seemed to have a glint in her eye. “What about Clark?”

“What about him?”

“Do you think he’s handsome? You spent a lot of time together? Is it him? Is he why you won’t go on a second date with Roger?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. “I didn’t go on a second date with Roger because he spent the entire date talking about how to extract a rotten tooth.”

Cat finally dropped the subject. “Fine. But when you finally want a date, don’t ask me to help you find one.”

You smiled but her previous question played on your mind. Why would she think it was Clark? Sure, he was handsome. That wasn’t avoidable in describing him. And he was smart. And kind. Caring. Friendly. And maybe once or twice you’d wished you’d faked an excuse so you could have been at home, watching a movie with him. 

But was he the reason?

The answer was yes. 

By the time a week had passed from Cat asking you her question, it became apparent. You had feelings for Clark. You always had. Because your reaction was always the same. Butterflies – which you’d mistaken for nerves about being at work. Then he’d smile. A warmth would spread through you, settling the flapping wings before finally you felt your cheeks warm up, too. 

 And you were feeling that warmth again. 

Clark was smiling at you, leaning against a concrete post as he watched you take it all in. 

After grabbing two coffees from the cart on the corner of the street, you’d both walked for twenty minutes before you’d arrived at a warehouse. It looked beaten up, but the locks had been freshly broken. 

Inside, there were mountains of books. 

Old rickety shelving units lined the walls and slotted into places that health and safety regulations would probably disapprove of. In the very centre, there were piles of books. Some, looking at them, dated back centuries. A lot of them were still 20th century, but had enough dust on their covers that could easily tell its own story about the second world war. 

“How did you find this place?”

“A case Lois and I worked on last year called and said they’d finally finished processing everything. They didn’t know what to do with them since most of the libraries don’t have the space for them.” Clark explained. “So, they’re here until they find a new home. But I asked if a very avid reader I knew could have the first pick.”

You looked back at him, a wide smile still on your face. Clark lifted himself from the pillar and walked towards you. 

“I don’t even know…what to say.”

You tried taking a mental image of so many books being in one place. 

“I feel like I’m in Beauty and The Beast.”

“Does that make me the Beast?”

You rolled your eyes, “You’re too handsome to be the Beast.”

The comment slipped from your lips before you could think about it. Even if it was true, the clear embarrassment on your face only made you feel worse. 

You weren’t like Cat or Lois. You couldn’t recover from saying something, no matter how true, very quickly. By the time you had recovered from the initial embarrassment, more was likely to come because you’d then realise the person you’d just said something to had heard you and the meaning. 

Looking away, you heard a small chuckle escape Clark. Then his hands landed on your shoulders. 

“I think it might be best if you start in that corner.” Clark turned your attention back to the books. “I think every book ever printed is in here.”

With a smile, having let the moment pass, you walked over and into the far corner. 

“How was there a crime with this many books that I didn’t know about?” You asked after forty minutes of swimming in the books. 

Your coat had long since been removed and hung on a piece of broken shelf, along with Clark's own, that he had found. Somewhere in the middle of the pile, Clark was piling books together by genre. 

“I think you were away at that conference in London.” Clark told you.

“So what happened?”

“A group of guys had been robbing a few places in and around the city. Banks, jewelry stores, and a couple of storage facilities. Then they’d got wind of a storage facility holding diamonds,” he said. “Anyway, they went down there but when they opened the unit, they found books. Just piles and piles of books. But, they still thought there were diamonds but they’d been hidden. Just so happens, they didn’t realise how long it would take to look through so many books and by the time they’d gotten barely a quarter of the way through, a lady who was walking her dog across the field saw the door open and called the police.”

“So what happened to the diamonds?”

“They were being held at a facility on the other side of the city. But, the cops couldn’t take their chances so had to process every book and make sure there weren’t any hidden pockets.”

You laughed as you looked over at Clark – that same smile giving you a warm feeling. There he stood, surrounded by books, even holding on in his hands, his shirt sleeves rolled, his tie loose and his hair a little dishevelled. But that smile on his face as he looked at you. 

You turned back to the pile of books. “You know, I’m probably gonna be here a while. You don’t have to stay. I’m sure there’s somewhere else you’d rather spend your day.”

Clark just shrugged. “I’ve not got any plans. Besides, I think I’d rather be spending my time with you, anyway.”

You laughed a little, placing one book down and picking up another. “Don’t let my mother hear you say that. She might think you’re in love with me, then I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You didn’t see, but Clark looked at you again; a warm smile on his face, but a slightly defeated look in his eye. You said it as if it was a bad thing. Like he shouldn’t be in love with you. 

But he was. 

He had been since you’d turned up outside his apartment, to welcome him to the building, with a fresh apple pie. You’d seemed so much more confident than you had been at work. At work, he’d noticed you. But nobody else seemed to have done. You avoided their every step making sure not to physically run into them; something he himself was still trying to master. You were quiet. In staff meetings, you were the same. But you were always tapping your pen against your pad – until you noticed the noise. Then you’d hold it with two hands. But unconsciously, you’d bounce your leg beneath the desk. The pen would twist around in your hands as Mr White and everyone turned their attention on you. 

But the woman standing outside of his apartment seemed…more confident. Or maybe you just had a quicker escape since you’d been speaking in a hallway rather than a staff meeting with a dozen other people. 

“I-I don’t know if it’ll be any good. It’s a family recipe but my Granny still tells me it tastes different every time. I’m still trying to work out if that means something good.” You finally looked at him as you handed the pie over. “Anyway, I live directly above you if you need anything. Bye.”

You’d gone to run away and make your exit, but he called you back. He thanked you for the pie and invited you inside. If slightly awkwardly, you agreed. But with one conversation, Clark found you warming to him. 

After that, you both kind of became inseparable. It was a quiet friendship; the kind that doesn’t need a thousand conversations to know something. In a single look, Clark could tell what you were trying to say. In a single look, you could tell what Clark was trying to do. 

On more than one occasion you’d saved him from Cat’s grasp. And on more than one occasion, he’d helped you escape a large gathering of people. 

But it was one evening, just like any other, where he let himself accept his feelings for you. He’d rented the next film on the list you’d been given from Mr White. From new films, to older ones. 

“There’s a whole range of ages reading our papers, Y/l/n. Even if the movies have been out for years, I want a piece to put in the paper. Capture the kids' attention. Let them know about real movies.” Of course, Mr White had given you a list of Elvis films alongside the list from the local movie theatre. 

But, as you and Clark sat watching Annie, you’d fallen asleep. Laying beside him, your head on his shoulder, he lifted his arm behind you and pulled the blanket down over you. You’d had a busy day at the paper and seemed ready to fall asleep before you turned up at his apartment. But the feeling in his chest when he looked down at you, cuddling into his side…his mind thought, for a moment, that it was a routine. That you lived together, that each night would be the same. You by his side, him by yours. 

He couldn’t deny the feelings he had for you then. 

And he couldn’t deny them now. 

“Would it really be that bad?”

“What would? My mother?”

“Me being in love with you?” Clark waited to see your reaction. 

You laughed. 

Not mockingly. But you laughed. 

You didn’t believe him. 

“Funny,” you told him. Then you stood, holding another book in your hand. Clark watched as you stood and started completing the new obstacle course you’d accidentally laid out for yourself as you made your way over to him. “But seriously, my mother would never leave me alone. She’s convinced that if I don’t get married soon, I never will. You know, I think if she could, she’d hand my face out on a leaflet on the street to take auditions.”

As you climbed over the loaded pile of books, your foot slipped. But you never hit the ground. Some of the books slid to the floor, but you remained on the pile, Clark’s arms around you. 

Holding onto his arm, you looked down at the sliding books and back at him. 

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Clark gave you a light smile, his eyes scanning over your face. “What if I wanted the role?”

“What?”

“You said your mom would hold auditions.” Clark pointed out. “What if I wanted the role?”

It took you a minute before what Clark was telling you registered in your brain. 

Standing once more, but Clark still holding you steady, your eyes remained fixed on him. You shook your head. “Clark, you don’t…you shouldn’t date me.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

Clark felt himself laugh. ‘Because’  has never been a real reason. “Because what?”

“Because…” You racked your brains for an answer he would accept. “Because you shouldn’t. You should be with someone…with someone…with someone like Lois. Or Cat.”

He tilted his head a little. “Please tell me you heard yourself, too.”

“Okay, maybe not Cat. But Lois. Or Jill.”

“From accounting?”

“She’s nice. Beautiful. Smart. Funny. Everything you deserve.”

“Y/n, you’re beautiful, smart and funny.” Clark told you. “And you’re kind and caring.”

“Clark.”

Clark felt something drop inside of him. “If it’s because you don’t want to, then I’ll understand.”

But you were quick to deny that. “No,” you shook your head. “No, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

As you stood there, his hands holding your steady, your own on his arms, you looked at him. Clark had been the one person you’d been able to tell anything to. You trusted him more than you trusted anyone. Even from the beginning. 

So why couldn’t you trust him with the truth now?

“I’m scared, Clark. This…this scares me.” You finally admitted the truth to him. “I’ve had relationships before and they’ve all found a reason to leave. I don’t want you to leave, too.”

“I’m not gonna leave.”

“You can’t promise that.”

Then he said something that struck you deep into your soul. “Actually, I can.”

You looked at him as if he had two heads, but he just chuckled, holding you a little closer. “Anyone who has ever left you, have been complete idiots. You are truly incredible, Y/n. And I have been in love with you longer than I think even I realise. But despite that, you’re my friend first, Y/n. And I don’t want to lose that either.”

Looking at you, Clark told you the complete truth. 

“So when I tell you I can promise you I won’t leave, please know that I mean it. And I mean it, too, when I tell you I love you. In more ways than one.”

You smiled. 

In his chest, Clark felt a bright light shoot through him and warm his entire being. Leaning forward a little, you hugged him. And he hugged you back. 

Leaning back and looking at him again, you spoke. 

“Can we start towards the beginning?”

Clark nodded and smiled. “Y/n, would you like to go to dinner with me?”

“I’d love to.” 

Like a breath of fresh air was being kicked into his lungs, Clark smiled a little wider. But then you surprised him. You kissed his cheek. 

This time, it was his moment to slip a little. But in a rush, you gripped onto him as he caught himself. Then you got an idea. 

“You don’t suppose this could be classed as a first date, do you?” You looked around you before looking back at him. “I mean, I know it’s a warehouse and it’s filled with dusty old books, but I guess the lighting is kinda dimmed? And we’re surrounded by history so it’s kinda like a library-museum thing? Unless there’s classification for something to be a date. There’s gotta be a book in here somewhere that tells us.”

Clark chuckled a little as he watched you. “I think I’d like to class this as our first date, too. Besides, we can always get dinner after this.”

You nodded. “Though, to do that, we should probably get off these books.”

Clark looked down. “Right.”

Carefully, he helped you down the cascade of books before your heels finally hit the concrete ground and with a soft landing, he landed beside you. 

It was another two hours before you both got food – the pizza guy, it was safe to say, was rather confused to turn up at a warehouse but he appreciated the tip and the gift copy of one of his sister’s favourite books. 

Yourself and Clark spent most of the night inside the warehouse before he helped you place your reserved books to the side. The next day, you both returned with your car and a pile of boxes to help carry them away. You’d barely made a dent in the pile, but considering you had access to the pile until the local libraries needed extra copies, you could spend as long as you liked going through them. 

Picking out some of the multiple copies with broken spines or torn covers, you took home and fixed them. And, six months into dating, you came to find Clark’s unique strength had its advantages as working as a temporary clamp. 

“This is why you agreed to date me, isn’t it?”

You gasped a little. “You’ve discovered my secret. Well, now that it’s out in the open, you should know I also agreed because you gave me a historical library.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yep.”

Leaning down, he pressed a kiss to your lips but you pulled him back in for a second. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

[sudoki-sara1]

One Last Happy Ending

An alternate ending for RWBY volume 9.

Following the meeting of the Genial Gems what remained of team RWBY had been inbued with new found hope. Jaune however remained skeptical, a bad habit he picked up from his time in the Ever After. However, one thought rang through Jaune's head, "I won't let anyone else die... especially not someone like Neo... someone who relates." Jaune had unknowingly said this aloud.

"Hm? Did you say something," asked Blake.

"It's nothing... nothing at all," Jaune couldn't let any of them know of the thoughts that ran through his head. Thoughts that pushed him into believing that he could never return to Remnant.

For hours on end they walked and walked and walked. Weiss, Blake, and Yang knew that Jaune had no idea where they were going, but what they did know was that he had been here the longest. If anyone knew the ins and outs of the Ever After it was Jaune. What they didn't know was that Jaune was in his own world. One where he spent what little time he had left trying to come to terms of his inevitable demise. After all he intended to die saving Neo from the cat's clutches. 

Eventually they found their way to the tree where they found Ruby, casted in wood. Yang, for obvious reasons, was excited that they found Ruby. "Ruby!" Shouted Yang as she ran to what remains of Ruby, "Alright, how do we get her out? We can't just leave without her."

"I think... we have to wait for her to ascend... if she even can," said Weiss. 

Before Jaune could speak several loud bangs can be heard as he spots a possessed Neo trying to go through the portal, "We have bigger problems," he said as he took out his swords. He was about to walk out of the covering and into the open field with the rest of team RWBY following close behind. As the girls took out their weapons Jaune stopped them. 

“What's wrong? You'll need our help to take them out," asked Weiss. 

Jaune shook his head as he put on his helmet, "Check your auras." As the girls took out their scrolls their eyes widened as they realized their aura had been in the red and has not recovered. 

"Aura doesn't recover here... learned that the hard way," Jaune said as he held his stomach, "Just stay back..." 

"Jaune... did you ascend," asked Blake. 

There was a long silence before Jaune nodded and walked towards the possessed Neo. Jaune took a deep breath as he raised his sword before calling out, "Hey! You bastard cat! I'm here to put you to rest." 

Neo/Curious Cat turned around with an annoyed expression, but as they realized it was just Jaune they smiled wickedly, "Ah if it isn't dear old Rusty~ what happened to that oh so lovely name you gave me?"

"... Cheshire you'll die here. I'll make sure of it," Jaune glared at the cat as he put on his helmet.

The cat looked dejected as it sharpened it's claws, "Oh... a shame. I did love our little moments together. I suppose you won't hold back... so neither should I, Rusty~"

Jaune- no, The Rusted Knight charged at the cat and slashed before reaching them.

The cat swiftly dodged as a surprised expression grew on its face, "Well, that's new. Didn't realize you could attack from afar."

Meanwhile Weiss, Blake, and Yang studied the fight. They realized just how much Jaune had changed... how destructive his fighting had become.

"That attack... it was an aura slash," Blake said as she was stunned at how strong the attack was.

Weiss checked her scroll to keep tabs on Jaune's aura and spoke, "It barely affected his aura too. Just how much time has Jaune spent here to perfect his attacks?"

"If he keeps this up though he'll inevitably run out though," Yang said as she clench her hand, feeling as though she was useless.

The fight between the cat and the Rusted Knight continued. The cat laughed as they slashed the Rusted Knight with their claws and the Knight winced as his aura didn't protect him... wait what?

"Jaune... why isn't he using his aura to heal," asked a concerned Weiss as she grips the handle of Myrtenaster.

Blake places a hand on Weiss' arm to stop her, "He's saving his aura... the question is if it's to attack or... to save Neo?'

As the Rusted knight's aura flickers he reaches out to the cat and once his hand lands on their body Neo's aura begins to be transferred to the Knight as the cat yelps and tries to jump back.

"Hah... surprised? I got a little upgrade. My semblance... it's not Aura Amplification... it's Aura Manipulation," said the Rusted Knight as he tries to catch his breath.

"Aura Manipulation? What does that mean," asked Yang as she watches Jaune's aura go from yellow to green on her scroll.

"My guess is that he can not only give people his aura... but now he's able to take aura for himself," said Weiss as she grew less worried and let out a sigh of relief.

As the fight continued it seemed as though the two were at a standstill until... Ruby had emerged from the tree. With Crescent Rose in had and a newly inbued sense of justice she was ready to join the fight.

You can imagine the surprise on team RWBY's face when they saw Ruby's aura go from lost signal to full.

"Ruby! You're back! I'm so glad you're okay," exclaimed Yang as she hugged her sister.

"Ahem, don't you mean we're happy to see that she's okay," the other two said sarcastically as Yang laughed nervously.

"Wait... where's Jaune? Is he okay," asked a worried Ruby as she looked around.

"He's okay... physically at least," said Weiss as she moved to the side to reveal Jaune fight a possessed Neo not even bothering to dodge attacks or heal his wounds.

"Wait, before you do anything rash he told us something worrying," said Blake as she showed Ruby her scroll and their auras in the red except for Ruby and Jaune's, "Aura doesn't recover here... we've just been getting lucky with our fights."

Ruby covers her mouth with a shocked expression, but still it looked like Jaune was in trouble and she wasn't gonna leave one of her friends behind again. She rushed into the fight as the others tried to call out to her.

"Ruby!? No, stay back. This is my fight," yelled Jaune as he turned to look and Ruby. As he was distracted the cat got one good hit on his back, sending him flying into a tree.

"Jaune! You'll pay for that," yelled Ruby as she cocks her weapon before aiming at the cat.

The Rusted Knight ran towards the cat preparing another aura slash. He swung and this time it landed.

"Fine... if you refuse to heal... then so will I," said the cat, hoping to break the Knight's spirits.

The Knight's eyes widen as he hears this and sees Ruby preparing to take a shot. With a heavy heart he charges towards Ruby, but before he can reach she shoots the possessed Neo. "No! Dammit," yelled the Knight as he tackles Ruby to the ground.

Ruby falls to the floor with Jaune on top of her, "What the- Jaune why'd you- ahhh!" Ruby yells in pain as Jaune begins to drain whatever aura Ruby has.

”Jaune! Why did he…” Yang’s voice trails on as she witnesses Jaune- no, the Rusted Knight drain Ruby's aura with rage filled eyes. Leaving Ruby in a vulnerable state. Yang runs in to drag Ruby back to safety.

"I... am the Rusted Knight. Cheshire... I swear to you... I'll kill you once and for all," the Rusted Knight glared at the cat before charging towards.

The cat, with a scared expression tries dodge, but the Knight is much too fast for him. Strike after strike, slash after slash, blood drips onto the battlefield. The four girls witness the monster that the Ever After has made. The broken Knight filled with nothing but endless rage pushes past his wounds, but to what end? Thoughts of Pyrrha, of his family, of his friends... and his life here in the Ever After fill the broken Knight. He wonders if this should truly be where he dies, but then he remembers Neo, the things he's heard. The memories of meeting her, of her helping him get into beacon... should he die in order for her to live... he would be content with that. With one final thrust he pierces Neo through the stomach, forcing the cat to leave the body out as it screams in excrutiating pain.

"You're not getting off that easily," the Rusted Knight exclaimed as he places a hand on the cat. While aura didn't exist in the Ever After, all living creatures still have souls, these were words Pyrrha first told him, words that he held close during his time in the Ever After.

"Wait! Rusty, please! Remember all the good times we had! Please let me go," yelled the cat as his very own soul began to be destroyed. In one last ditch effort the cat, with it's sharpened claws prieces the Rusted Knight's armor and through his chest.

The Rusted Knigh spat out blood through his helmet, but despite the excrutiating pain he refused to let the cat go, "You made my life a living hell... if I must die then so be it."

The girls look on, shocked at what the Knight not only said but what had concluded there fight.

"Jaune!" The girls exclaimed as they all ran to him as he fell to the floor.

The Knight coughs up more blood, "Where's Neo? Is Neo okay? Bring me to... Neo."

The girls look back at an unconscious Neo. Confused they dragged the Knight to Neo.

As the Knight places a hand on Neo, both bleeding heavily, he takes of his helmet, "Neo... if we had met... earlier, could we... have been friends? Maybe... more? Yeah I would've liked that... I'm not letting you die," the Knight- no, Jaune begins to transfer the last of his aura to Neo.

"Jaune wait, you can't just-" Ruby is cut off as Weiss places a hand on her shoulder, "Weiss, but Jaune is..."

"Let him... he needs this more than ever," Weiss says as they watch Jaune take one last breath, his aura flickers as he goes limp, but as long as his hand rests on Neo he will give the rest of his life to her.

Neo's eyes open slowly as she begins to wake up. Ruby grabs Neo, "You! Why did Jaune have to save YOU!? Tell me! What did you mean-"

Ruby is cut off by Blake trying to drag her through the portal. Neo looks down at Jaune's lifeless yet smiling body and covers her mouth in shock. She reaches down and runs her hand through his hair. She hear every word he said... the impact of said words. She places his head on her lap and opens her mouth. For once in a long time she speaks, "Jaune... Why'd you go and do that. I'm so sorry... it should've been me."

She then begins to sing... she sings of Jaune's life for she had been following his journey since Beacon unbeknownst to him. Quiet begins to play as she cries and holds Jaune's body close to her.

When she finishes she looks down at his hand, in it is the very same watch that cursed Jaune to go back in time. The same watch that he would consider a curse would become her blessing, "Jaune... I shall become your rogue princess." She grab the watch and smiles at the thought of seeing her Knight once more.

Back on Remnant after releasing "The Girl Who Fell Through the World" Lewis would release a book called "The Knight and the Ice Cream Princess"

[shysuccubusstuff]

succubus! reader pt. 2

Content: Mean Sylus + restriction; Soft! Sylus after a certain part, vanilla; only foreplay (just the tip kind of thing yk). Non-proofreader.

Word count: 3,5k

Context: Succubus! Reader prey is now the dangerous leader of Onychinus. Despite the difficulties, you were able to enter the N109 Zone with not much effort (perhaps thanks to a certain someone actually allowing you to enter…) How will you get that sweet passing grade?

Note: Sorry for taking so long, it takes me a lot of time to get the right mood. I kind of made slight changes about the actual meeting with each other, let’s just pretend Sylus and the MC from the actual game have not met yet, meaning you have arrived before her :) + touch starved Sylus.

After receiving the name of the target, you quickly got to work. You took on the appearance of one of the few women who had ever gotten close to him. That was his “childhood” friend who had disappeared from his life without a trace. You carefully aged her appearance after getting to see her in his dreams, paying meticulous attention to every detail. After all, Sylus was the leader of a dangerous organization, not the once naïve little child. With your physical appearance now changed, you chose the one that you considered the best approach, that was, of course, making a huge mess!

Of course, it didn’t take long until you started to feel two pair of eyes following you, those were probably Luke and Kieran, the two henchmen who were under Sylus. Now, you just had to keep going until Sylus appeared, luckily it didn’t take long, as Mephisto didn’t take long on appearing, his metal wings flapping around the area you were fighting in. It was just as you were about to give up and change your approach when you suddenly felt two pair of hands on your back just as you were about to get hit. The two masked men took you, hitting you at the back of your neck, allowing you to function as if you were actually fading away.

By the moment you reopened your eyes, you were in a strange room, the light barely letting you see the two men that had took you there. Both of them were scanning you with great detail, which was until they noticed you had already woken up. One of them got up from where they were sitting, getting closer as their eyes never left your face. Despite you could almost feel how they were hesitant to speak to you, they simply took you, making you follow them as they got you to another room located at the end of the hallway. After entering, both of them left you there, closing the door after them while the man hidden in the dark slowly drawing closer to you, his silver hair shining under the dim lights. As he got closer, you were able to feel goosebumps, his red eyes piercing into yours as his face almost made something obvious, that is, the fact that he was absolutely stunned after seeing the face you had chosen, the one and only person he knew when he was younger, that is to say you, the little girl who also had to face the same torture as him. His gaze softened, as his hands touched your face, slowly, almost as if you were about to break under his touch, calloused hands caressing your face, making you feel almost shy because of the intimate contact. This (sadly) didn’t last long, as he quickly recovered from the shock, shifting back to his previous stance, still remaining quite close to you, brushing against your arm while he kept his act.

“You… didn’t expect you to appear here after all this time.” His voice sounded a bit hurt, although his expression remained amused. Well, now is the time to put your skills to use, right? So, you did, quickly searching all around her memories, trying to find the exact way in which the real her would react, making completely sure that you made no mistakes, as you were sure he would be able to tell you were not her at the slightest misstep.

It took a few days to finally be able to lower his guard, always making sure to remain all giggly and smiley, even despite he tried to prank you in dangerous ways, almost making you “die” when he pushed you way too close to the cliff in which both of you were fighting. It seemed quite strange for him to do that, but you brushed it off as if it was merely just a kid’s prank, that’s what you said to yourself, at least. This was of course not what Sylus had in mind, of course, as he already knew that you were in fact not her, he knew it from the start, as he realized just by the way you looked at him, that mixture of lust and eagerness, much different from the way you used to look at him. But he kept the act, taking care of you just like he would do with the real her, well, sometimes he just couldn’t bear the rage, so of course he did certain things he would never do to her.

This little play came to an end when you decided to finally act, creeping into his room while he was asleep. You were getting eager to have a taste of his scent, your tail and horns already appearing while you licked your lips, getting closer to him, seeing as he was sleeping silently, his chest and part of his stomach, his chest going up and down at the rhythm of his breathing. Just as you were about to get on top of him, his hands got wrapped around your wrists, quickly changing your positions as he got on top of you, his red eyes glistening under the slight light that entered the room through the curtains.

“A not so smart kitten trying to get inside the lion’s den, uh? You really thought you were being all smart, attempting to trick me into believing that you truly were her… It must have been a quite fun experience.” His eyes were dark, a sense of fear lingering around you, almost making you feel completely wrapped around his fingers. Regardless, you tried to fight that feeling, showing your cocky expression while Sylus seemed unamused as you tried to get your pheromones to work against him. This was sadly useless, as he wasted no effort, using his evol to keep you from using any type of power, your face clearly showing how much you were panicking inside. Sylus expression changed, showing a cocky smile as he knew that he got you cornered.

“It seems you truly didn’t think this through, am I wrong?” His hands shifted a bit, pushing you even harder against the soft bed. “I knew there was something wrong since the start, it was the way you looked at me, that hunger and lust were just a huge red light.” Sylus took a pair of handcuffs from God knows where, quickly getting them around your wrist while he closed them, making you stay tied to the frame of the bed. He finally let go of your wrists, looking at your flushed face from his position, almost enjoying a bit too much your concerned face. That was when you noticed his face seemed a bit flushed as well, was it perhaps because of your appearance? Or were your pheromones finally having effect under him? Perhaps the way his gaze was darkening and the growth that you were able to see under his pants were a clear indicator. You were barely able to enjoy the accomplishment, as Sylus grabbed your face with one of his hands, “Are you having fun right now? Do you even realize the position you’re in? I could do whatever I want to you, and you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.” Well, that was your objective, so what was better than him losing control and “casually” allowing yourself to gain control of the situation? Your expression betrayed you once again, as Sylus got away from you, trying to make sure to get as far as possible. Just as he tried to get out of the room, he realized that you had actually locked the room (well, you had actually convinced Luke and Kieran for them to “accidentally” lock the door with the excuse of you wanting to bond with your dear “childhood friend”). Sylus brows furrowed, but he just let out a deep breath. He turned around, showing a displeased expression as he sat in the big armchair that was at the corner of the room. “Great, now what? Am I supposed to just wait out until you finally die from starvation or…?” He took a gun that was lying on top of his dresser, starting to clean it while your heartbeat raised. “You’re… you’re not planning on actually killing me, right? I mean, yeah, I did try to use your childhood friend to get closer to you, and yes, I did kind of try to make fun of your childhood crush, but come on, aren’t you being a bit too much?” His gaze shifted back to you, his expression was just as serious as before, his mouth opened, about to talk, but he just chose to close it back again, his grip tightening around the gun. Well, despite his tough act, you were completely able to see the raging bulge that was trying to be hidden by placing the gun on his lap. Your lips curved in a confident smile, it was just a matter of time before he would cave in, you just knew it, so why not enjoy it? You were able to sit up, looking at him with your over-confident grin.

This whole “staring until he caves in” went on for what it seemed to be a whole hour, with Sylus sometimes breaking the silence by getting up, trying to open up the door from time to time and having to go back to the armchair, sitting with his face frowned and his knuckles white from the tension. This was perfect, as by the time Sylus finally gave in to your pheromones, you were just about to doze off, the drowsiness instantly being replaced with the increase of lust pumping within your veins. “See? That’s all humans are good for, you were barely able to last an hour before coming right back to me.” Sylus eyes were once again glued into your stupid cocky smirk, almost making him go back to where he was sitting, well, if only he had as much self-control as he tried to be seen as. Despite his pissed expression, his warm hands were caressing your face with great care, his thumb stroking your cheek while his gaze started to soften once more.

“You’re seriously lucky, you know that? Playing with me as if I were just some weak human… your face is the only thing stopping me from putting a bullet in your forehead.” You laughed, amused at how he was trying his hardest to keep the distance, acting as if his lips were barely inches away from kissing yours.

“I’m sure, big boy, now take off these damn handcuffs.” Sylus bit his lip as an attempt to conjure what little restraint he had left, but this was just a poor attempt, as it took less than a few seconds for him to open the stupid handcuffs he had created specially for you. “Now I can finally do whatever I want to…” You finally broke the little distance left between both of you, giving him a soft kiss that then shifted to a deep kiss, giving him a taste of your sweet saliva, which lead to Sylus feeling even more overwhelmed. The sweet scent of your whole body filled the room, making his head spin as he tried to grip your wrists, trying his best not to fall on top of you.

“What… what are you doing?” Sylus tried to push you away, although he was barely able to do so, as you swiftly pushed him and getting on top of him, your hands gliding down his chest, stopping just close enough to his lower half, making Sylus clench his teeth as he kept on fighting against the effects of the aphrodisiac within your scent.

“Just wait until I’m out of this little enchantment… Gonna make sure you never mess up with me again.” His threat almost sounded cute, as despite the hatred within his voice, his hands were already gripping your waist in a needy way, trying to get you to grind against him, his eyes completely clouded by the pleasure he was trying so hard to reach. “Please…”

How could you deny such a cute plea? So, you did, finally getting rid of the clothes that had been restraining you that whole time, your soft body making Sylus’ mind drift even further from his usual self, his hands drifted towards your chest, touching them gently, lifting his upper half just so he could bury his face in between them, rubbing his face against them, almost like how a cat would.

“I’ve missed you so much… I was so scared that something may have happened to you. When the explosion happened, I was just about to rush there, even if I was completely aware of the fact that you don’t even remember me.” His eyes were once again piercing your face, his hands were all over your face once more, his fingers outlining your features as a soft smile escaped his lips. “You’re so pretty…” Sylus closed the distance, his lips melting against yours, his arms locking you into a close hug, his rushed heartbeat filling the room.

Well, you did have some experience with the whole “meet and have sex” type of thing, but this, the soft words, his eyes looking at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world (his world), his warm hands stroking up and down your body in a loving way. God, you were starting to feel your face heating up, what’s wrong with you now? Well, this rumble inside your head was interrupted, as Sylus was suddenly on top of you, his hands once again gripping your wrists.

“Can I… Can I really touch you?” Sylus’ face was completely flushed, body shaking as he attempted to keep his own body from giving up all over you. Your hands were drifting all over his body, brushing his chest and slowly drifting down his lower half.

“Sure, you can touch me all you want, I’ll make sure to repay you, dear.” Sylus simply started to kiss you fiercely, crashing his own lips against yours with great hunger, leaving you completely breathless by the time he was finished.

“You taste so good…” Sylus got up again, his hands feeling your whole body over the tight clothes. Not allowing you to move from where you were lying, he gripped your clothes, using his bare hands to rip to shreds them, throwing them to the floor and starting to pepper kisses all over your bare skin. “You’re so pretty, such a soft skin, I’ve been dreaming about this moment for such a long time…” His hands kept on moving, letting his hands drift all over your skin, sucking on your skin, feeling the slightly salty aftertaste on his tongue. “I need more…” Suddenly, your whole body was upside down. Your back pressing against the mattress while Sylus’ mouth got way too close to your lower half.

“Wait! I…I don’t need this, let’s just get to the important thing, yeah?” Your words fell on deaf ears, as Sylus’ tongue was already all over you, sucking on your clit while sometimes switching to passing his tongue over or even into your folds. Not even stopping as you tried to push him away, your hands gripping his silvery hair and your legs squeezing his face just to stop him from moving. This was to no avail, as Sylus kept sucking and licking it, opening your legs with barely any strength needed.

“Stop, you’re not letting me enjoy my moment…” Sylus kept this little game of his for a long time, stopping when he felt that you were about to cum all over his face, instead using his fingers to play with your inner walls at a slow, deliberate pace, keeping you at edge for over five times.

“St…stop! If you keep going, I won’t be able to graduate…!” Once again, it didn’t matter what you were trying to explain, as Sylus seemed to be far too lost due to your own powers, completely focused on getting you to cum all over his face no matter how much you attempted to get him to stop, or at least let you take charge, instead of him. His fingers played with your folds, carefully letting them run through your lower half without actually introducing them, other times, he suddenly started to play with your clit, getting his face away from you and enjoying the cries and pleas that were leaving your mouth even if you tried to stop them. Your eyes rolling against the back of your skull and your hips shaking as you came all over his fingers, your trembling hands trying to push his shoulders as you tried to for him to let you rest a bit, just enough for the fog within your mind to clear. “What… what the hell did that woman do? You barely spent time with her!” Sylus’ eyes darkened for a moment, a weird feeling of fear passing all through your body, regardless of that tense moment, Sylus went back to eating you out, his touch turning more rough, making you cry even louder when you came, other times choosing to leave you high and dry, tears rolling down your cheeks as he got away from you, even despite you were gripping against his shirt and pleading him to give you even more pleasure.

How could he deny it? His cocky smile was plastered back into his face, after all, you were the one that had begged him to keep going, right? So, he did, forcing your body to go back to that uncomfortable position in which he was able to see each of your reactions to his touch. This time, Sylus used one of his hands to unzip his pants, lowering at the same time his underwear. He took it with his free hand, rubbing the tip of his dick against your entrance, using it to caress your clit and laughing a bit when your whole body reacted. “Open wide, kitten.” Just as he said that, he started to push against you, slowly entering inside you. This was the perfect opportunity for you to get your passing grade!...

Or that was what you thought, as he stopped just a few inches in, keeping you still even as you tried to get him to bottom out. “Just the tip is enough, don’t get ahead of yourself.” Sylus once again got you up, allowing him to sit on the edge of the bed while you sat on his lap, his arms keeping you away from using your whole-body weight to get him to hit that precious place. He got you to move to the rhythm he wanted, increasing the pace when he was close to cumming, and suddenly slowing down as he felt your walls clenching around him, using one of his hands to play with your clit as your whole body jerked from the great overstimulation you were undergoing.

Sylus’ kept doing this for several times, forcing you to come all over him for over five times, your love fluids getting his fingers and part of his clothes completely soaked by that time. Your body fell limp against the mattress as soon as Sylus let you go, almost making you believe he was finally done with you. Not like it mattered much, as you quickly realized that was not the case, his arms wrapped once more around your body, getting you closer to him in order to avoid you from leaving. “You’re seriously lucky… using the face of her just to get on my good side…” Sylus words were sluggish, probably due to the great number of pheromones that were filling the whole room.

“Don’t leave again… next time I really won’t forgive you…” Sylus was barely capable of mumbling those words, being on the verge of falling asleep over you, his whole-body weight making it hard for you to breath. This was the perfect chance for you to leave, so you waited patiently until he seemed to be completely asleep, the room already being filled by the soft orange hue of the sun. Who could expect that Sylus would take such a long time to fall asleep? That was finally the time, slowly moving him, trying your best not to wake him up. This little attempt was still not enough, as Sylus’ eyes opened, forcing both of you to interlock each other gazes, but instead of pushing you away as you expected, his arms wrapped once again around you, moving your whole body so you could lie on top of his chest.

“Were you unable to sleep? Sorry for crushing you, kitten… Now, let’s rest a bit.” Sylus’ hands caressed your hair, squeezing you against him, and keeping his hands all over your body.

Well, that was definitely the end of the time limit you had, the final day was reaching the end, and his grip didn’t seem to lose any strength, in fact, you could almost feel as if his arms were pressing more than before. I suppose… third time is the charm, right? So, you closed your eyes, resigned to simply accept the failing grade (once again).

[ct-cactus]

Demon Slayer AU where everything is the same except Yoriichi is a ghost.

He’s corporal/people can see him, he can change his appearance from when he was a kid to when he was old.

He follows Tanjiro around. They met sometime before the Hashira Training Arc for sure, but how early depends on what the writer decides. Has he been there since pre-canon? Or did he show up after the Entertainment District Arc (would honestly make most sense since Tanjiro didn’t know about Sun Breathing until after Mugen Train, but again this is an AU).

He meets Muichiro, and after it clicks that he’s Michikatsu’s descendant Yoriichi follows him around too, eager to be close with the family he could never have.

Depending on when they met, Yoriichi could help Muichiro recover is missing memories earlier than in canon.

Other things about/to include in the AU:

Kamaboko Squad centric (Tanjiro, Nezuko, Inosuke, Zenitsu, Kanao, Genya, AND Aoi and Senjuro)

each member gets a one-on-one interaction with him at some point, which will add to their own personal character growth

Whether or not Yoriichi can physically interact with others is up to the writer

making him able to fight demons seems kinda OP, so unless the writer can find a way to make it make sense about how he can maybe don’t do that

maybe he can exude enough strength to stun demons, but not fully kill them

can he pick things up, or do they just pass through him?

He helps train Tanjiro, making him more proficient in Sun Breathing

this can give Tanjiro more time to hone is Water Breathing. It always irked me that Tanjiro didn’t practice Water Breathing as much when he discovered Sun Breathing (don’t quote me on that, I get my info from TikToks and reaction videos. But why learn two breathing styles and not increase your skill in both?)

this can allow a Giyuu training session in the Hashira Training Arc that we didn’t get to see

Expanding on Yoriichi changing his age: I feel like the older he presents himself, the more power he would have. So when he’s fighting, he’s somewhere between his 20s and 80s. However, because this takes up a lot of energy, when he’s not fighting he’s typically in the form of himself as a child or in his teens

whether or not his mentality/maturity is affected when he’s at different ages is up to the writer so long as it’s not portrayed in an erotic/kinky way

Yoriichi can give tips to the Hashiras that those in the Sengoku Era used (information always has the potential to be forgotten, so maybe there were some tricks that were forgotten about?)

can provide more information about Muzan and his weaknesses, since he was the only swordsman who came close to killing the Demon King

Interactions with Lady Tamayo and Yushiro!

Fluffy moments! Slice of Life, Found Family, all the tropes! Let him be the father to the Kamaboko Squad that they never had/lost (let him have the chance to be the father he never got to be)

Lots of interactions with Genya (is my favoritism showing?)

bonding over being the younger brother

bonding over their endless love for their older brothers

bonding over their older brothers who do so much to hurt them, but they just can’t stop admiring them

Let Yoriichi give Sanemi a talking to

yes, I understand why Sanemi acted towards Genya the way he did. He wanted to protect him, keep him out of danger. However. Good intentions DO NOT give you a free pass on bad actions.

the way that Sanemi treated Genya was cruel and frankly unacceptable; he could’ve gone about it in a much more mature manner

Interactions with Giyuu and Yoriichi!!

mostly bc Giyuu is my fav Hashira, but I notice a lot of similarities between them

Maybe Yoriichi can provide information about Kokushibo/Uppermoon 1?

Yoriichi has the flute that Michikatsu gave him with him in his ghost form

Additional weaknesses up to the writer (this goes for powers too)

Kamaboko Squad showing Yoriichi present-day things

A mix of fluff, angst, etc.

rating is up to the author

ANY SHIP is welcome so long as it is:

legal

not a pro-ship

treated respectfully/with some level of understanding

^^continuing from this, it doesn’t matter if you include SaneKane, SaneGiyuu, ShinoGiyuu, ShinoMitsu, SaneMitsu, ObaGiyuu, UzuRen, or any other pairing, polyamorous included. It doesn’t matter if there’s no ships at all. Everyone has there own preferences, and it’s up to both the reader and the writer to be respectful about it

This is all I’ve come up with for now! I’ll most likely come back and add more at some point, but if you have any ideas or suggestions let me know too!

If you end up using this idea, credit me with my Tumblr, and if you want to as well my AO3 which can be found in my profile :)

[merv606]

Any thoughts on Terry being truly scared that he could have lost Daniel (supposing that Daniel was stabbed instead) and he goes to the hospital while Daniel recovers. Danny is surprised at how…soft and gentle Terry is with him, treating him like glass, and realizes that Terry was terrified of losing him.

I’ll try to answer this without having the fill by @thereminwriting influence me too much but I am going to take the idea of Terry being the one who saved him because it adds another layer of 🌶️ to the whole fucked up situation. There may be some overlap with Mercy but, with Silverusso there always is, as the themes with them are always the same.

Link below for her take - a suggestion to read it as it’s brilliant! It will live rent free.

What this ask inspired, while I feel hits some points made in the ask it may ultimately fail to hit the mark for exactly what you were looking for.

“You think you’d be grateful, is all,” Terry says, picking at some imaginary lint on the bed, which is not there. They both know that. The place is pristine, more high end hotel than hospital. The thread count on the bedsheets has to be higher than what he has at home, and he is an admitted snob when it comes to his night time comforts.

“Gratitude?” Daniel says slowly, like he’s both processing what Terry said and also surprised he’d even say it.

If it wasn’t for the dull ache in his side, the way he can feel the stitches and staples pull when he moves he’d do something stupid. As it were though.

“Gratitude, gratitude,” his voice rising, and then suddenly Daniel just deflates, that little bit of anger burning through the little energy he has built up.

That scared Terry more than anything. His boy’s fire was always so bright, so warm to bask in, so strong and big, despite the small frame it lived inside. That was why it came out so often, too big for it’s confines, never truly able to be contained at all times.

A fire that drew Terry to it like a moth to a flame, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it’s seductive allure. Helpless in the knowledge that like the moth stunned and destroyed by the light it sought, he too would die by it’s heat.

He could’ve think of a better way to go though.

Softly, “it’s just another cage, Terry.”

“Never pegged you as the religious type,” Terry says after a few long moments.

He’s not, not really. He goes through the rituals of it - mass on Christmas Eve - stopping only when his kids got older and Amanda admitted she was only going for him, and he had to admit he really didn’t know why he did, except that he did when he was a kid.

Daniel looks at the keychain’s pendant in his hand, the keychain having been ripped off and stretched to pick the lock of the cage, and he hadn’t even realized, at the time when he bought it what it was, he had simply handed the kid over some money.

He only kept it because he considered it a lucky charm of sorts considering, what it saved him from - that belief was cemented by the fact it was in the pockets of the leggings he wore under his GI when this happened.

A coincidence, he’s sure, but still, he thinks he needs all the help he can get. He’s probably in the most danger right now, after all.

It had been placed on the bedside table, and it was one of the first things he saw when he woke, and when he groggily reached for it, Terry had stilled him, telling him not to move, placing it the palm of his hand.

Here now, he turns it over in his hand.

Even you can’t save me now, Daniel thinks.

Sitting in a hospital paid for by Terry - his life forfeit it wasn’t for Terry.

His life forfeit all the same.

All the same.

More like delayed, all things considered.

Because now he owes Terry.

He owes Terry a debt he cannot possibly repay.

He wonders how Terry will try to collect; what he stands to gain.

“I must say, I was surprised to learn of your skills.”

“I’m from jersey,” Daniel answers absently. “Of course I know how to pick locks.”

Terry chuckles but then the doctor comes in and like always, Daniel is not made privy to the decisions. Everything in Terry’s hands which, as much as he hates that, they have proved to be quite capable.

He’s alive because of them.

——————————

When a few weeks have passed, he finally gathers the courage to watch the video, and for the first time he sees Terry, how he was saved, how calm Terry was, how efficient, how …. Not what Daniel expected.

He doesn’t know what to feel, not only about watching himself get hurt but about Terry. The feed had cut rather quickly all the same. He doesn’t know why, but he hits replay.

Terry comes in, and freezes, grabbing the tablet from Daniel, shattering it against the wall. A nurse rushes in, and Terry barks something to her as he strides out, and after she cleans the mess, she injects something into his IV bag. He doesn’t bother asking, they never tell him.

Terry finally reappears as the drugs settle through him. Daniel can feel them as they move through his blood, dulling everything further, the pain never truly gone, leaving behind heavy limbs and bad coordination, but a sense of peace even as he feels the bed dip and Terry’s side press flush to his. Daniel goes slack against the older man, his weight fully pressed against him until Terry is the very thing holding him up.

Terry puts Daniel’s hand in his, the only apology he’ll get for the outburst, the thumb rubbing the skin.

“My team will have it removed,” Terry explains, like they do anytime a new one pops up, and although Terry knows he can’t get rid of it entirely, it helps. Having something he can control.

Daniel, after all, makes him feel so out of control.

Daniel, after all, had never made him feel so scared.

All the blood that was already blooming out from him on the mat by the time Terry got to him, and it had only taken moments.

The knife - Kreese’s knife - embedded deep - and the white of Daniel’s skin as more blood appeared, watching life drain out of him right before his eyes.

Something that only hit Terry after. Terry only allowing it to hit him after, needing to, in that moment, focus on saving Daniel.

Not willing to accept anything else.

You can lose something you never really had.

But Daniel will be now. Something he has. Finally. And Terry will be damned if he’ll lose it.

———————————

“I can’t believe you put me in a dog cage,” Daniel grumbles as he eats his steak and buttered lobster.

Well he can, but a part of him can’t - won’t - examine it too closely. The same coping mechanism he’s been using when it comes to Terry for thirty years now. It mostly proves successful,

“Danny,” he starts.

“Thought that would, what? Make me submit? Like before.”

A deep sigh, and really Terry has no right sound that put upon.

He wasn’t the one locked in a dog cage.

“Of course you would see it like that.” Both exasperated yet fond.

“How should I see it?!”

At first you would think humiliation, and Terry’s attempt to install fear in Daniel - the same fear Terry felt but, that wasn’t it - not at all.

Nothing could be further for the truth.

It was protection.

Cages keep things in, but they also keep them out.

They keep things safe.

They keep them from leaving.

He actually hadn’t wanted Daniel to wake up until reaching the desired destination.

“I fear cages,” Terry starts but stops, not sure what to say, off kilter in a way only Daniel manages to do to him.

“Why do you fear cages?”

The story pours out, and Daniel sits, stunned.

He had no idea. At all.

Terry’s loyalty to Kreese makes so much sense now. As does their falling out. Which has hardened into hate since the accident.

Part of Terry blames Kreese.

It was his knife after all.

“He always tries to destroy the good things in my life.”

It not only makes sense but Daniel realizes, with a clarity he wouldn’t before, as he too carries that same burden now. Carries the same mixed feelings about being indebted to someone you do not wish to be indebted to.

An understanding, a part of him connected to Terry.

A part of himself that will never belong to him again.

———————————-

He protested in the beginning, Terry helping him change, but now he doesn’t; there would be no point.

He winces, the scar twisting, so new it’s still more deep purple, the skin too tight from where he was sewed and stitched back together.

Terry frowns, his hand touching it, and Daniel flinches; he can’t help it. Even he doesn’t even like touching it himself

It feels wrong - foreign. It feels like a change he didn’t want but will have no choice but to accept.

Isn’t that Terry whoever he comes into Daniel’s life.

It feels like the situation he finds himself in.

It looks ugly, even if he knows in time it will fade to pink and then further still until it’s faded to the point that it nearly matches his skin

He knows he should be grateful to be alive, to be here, even if here is with Terry.

He knows all of this but still, he will carry a piece of this always.

He carrie enough of Terry around with him - he has for thirty years.

The older man’s fingers are so damm gentle as they trace the new skin forming, solidifying into something permanent.

Everything about Terry has been so damm gentle.

All his touches, all the looks directed at Daniel, even when Terry thinks Daniel isn’t paying attention.

Terry helps him into his shirt.

————————————-

“Why?” Daniel asks when he finally gathers the courage. The thing that took him the longest to do.

“I wasn’t about to let you die, Daniel,” Terry nearly scoffs. “I’m not that much of ….”

“I know,” Daniel interrupts.

And he does. Truly. Terry is a Bond villain, and like all Bond villains, he lives to monologue and come up with elaborate plots, plots he knows, deep down, won’t work.

Just like they know Bond will walk away each time, that they want him to, so does Terry.

Because If you really want someone gone, it’s not hard. Simple is best.

If you truly want to win, that is.

But the winning isn’t the point. The end isn’t the point, because it’s not even a journey.

It’s a game, and it’s the fun in playing the game.

But when you take out the opponent, and you win the game, oh how you stop having fun.

Because the opponent was what you actually wanted all along, this game, was the only way to get that.

Something almost ruined this ages old ritual, something the villain hadn’t planned himself, hadn’t even accounted for.

“Why all this?” Daniel gestures around. It certainly is above and beyond. Putting aside the part Daniel can never hope to possibly repay, can’t even begin to, the money alone Terry has spent is astronomical, and shows no signs of stopping. The money Terry has assured Daniel he does not want, nor does he seem to even care about.

They stare at each other.

“I think you know,” is all Terry says, and it’s not cryptic, not at all.

Because Daniel thinks he does too.

Daniel thinks, he always did.

—————-

The plastic surgeon is flown in.

Daniel is fine with the scar.

It’s Terry that hates it.

It reminds him of too much.

The overwhelming fear in the days after, the unbridled anger at it even happening. Something Terry has been felt before.

How he had failed.

How he had almost lost something, that while never was his, was something he had never wanted more.

How he would have lost everything all the same, had Daniel not pulled through.

No.

No part of his boy is to be reminded of this.

No part of him will be marked by any man but Terry.

If his body is to change now, to open and accept anything inside, to be split open, to bleed, it will be by Terry’s doing.

And it will be by pleasure and not pain.

——————————————

The night he wakes to Terry sitting in the side of the hospital bed, everything dark expect for the light of the moon filtering in through the near floor to ceiling windows, is the night he really sees.

The older man’s back is to him, and although everything is silent, eerily so, he can tell Terry is crying.

Daniel sits up, hand holding onto his side, where he thinks it will always twinge slightly, although it’s more a habit now than a need, and the fact that Terry doesn’t turn to him, doesn’t hone in on the fact he’s awake and moving adds to the wrongness of this whole thing.

He gently and slowly lays a hand on the older man’s shoulder, not wanting to spoke him, he’s clearly out of it, and in an even softer tone, the ones he’d use on his kids when they were younger and upset, he asked, “Terry?”

Daniel expects the older man to get up, leave, but instead a large hand comes up and covers him.

They say nothing, but then Terry’s hand squeezes his, and in a broken voice finally speaks.

“I could have lost you.”

Terry made a mistake.

A mistake he can’t fix. - not now. Because he’s in too deep, because he loves Daniel.

And this, this was never the plan, all those years ago. To fall for the boy …. to fall again for the man the boy became.

Because when you love something, you now have something that can destroy you.

Destroy you without even meaning too.

Daniel would have destroyed him, without even trying.

Destroyed Terry in away that he would not have been able to rebuild himself from.

Even a phoenix eventually loses its will to rise again.

A world with Daniel is not one Terry wishes to be in. He tried, for thirty years, and it was no life at all. It certainly wasn’t living.

He got it back though, that feeling of being alive, but oh, what he traded for it. Because now he has this fear, heavy on his chest.

This fear of losing something you cannot replace.

When he looks down, sometimes he can still see the blood on his hands.

“You didn’t though.”

Daniel kneels, his chest to Terry’s back, his head on his shoulder, thin arms wrapped around the older man.

“You saved me.”

He had.

Terry had battled death with his bare hands for Daniel and won. But one day, one day …..

“We saved each other,” is all Terry says, focusing on that to stave off the panic.

“Let’s focus on that,” Daniel says, nuzzling his cheek into his shoulder. Terry can feel the warmth of his breaths gaunt his neck.

Plastered against his back, Daniel moves with Terry almost, to the feel the rise and fall of Terry’s breathing. Terry can feel the beat of Daniel’s heart, they’re pressed so tight.

Concentrating on that. On the moment. On what he can control in the here and now.

The dread subsides, for now, even if Terry knows it has simply retreated.

The moonlight shines down on them, this moment in time, and they stay like that until the sun chases it away, illuminating the sins instead.

———————-

“Oh god,” a breathy little moan, as Terry’s cock slides home, opening Daniel to him.

Four fingers, four of Terry’s thick fingers, and his mouth, had put the time in to get Daniel here like this, body open enough to accept the older man inside him; to accept his love.

Like a virgin on a mound, about to be offered up as sacrifice, this is how he will repay Terry.

Daniel arches up, legs squeezing tighter to the older man’s sides as his eyes squeeze shut, blunt fingernails drawing down a broad pale back.

They’ll both bleed for this tonight.

They’ll always bleed for each other.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Terry groans, and Daniel kisses him, only because he can’t handle much more.

He can’t handle Terry here inside him like this - how good it feels - how right it feels - and hear the raw truth in Terry’s voice.

He can’t.

His body is already the temple Terry is about to worship at - to ruin and rebuild - his body the vessel for this offering of his.

He knows his heart and soul will follow suit. If he was being honest with himself, something he seldom is, they already have.

The older man will accept nothing else. Daniel finds he wants nothing else.

Hands roaming, touching warm sweat slick skin, sharing the air moving between them.

The older man so damn gentle as he keeps sliding in.

Daniel finding within himself, to somehow open more and more, until Terry’s cock is all the way in, both men joined as one.

Terry carving a spot for himself that only he will be able to fill.

Hips snapping in, the wet noises of their coupling, the pin pricks of pleasure when the older man’s cock brushes his prostate, the sharp grin, like a shark sensing blood in the water as Terry concentrates on hitting that spot.

Hands pins above his head, Daniel opening his eyes at the older man’s command, Terry staring down.

“I love you. So much, Danny. So damm much,” he groans, rocking in, burying his face into the smaller man’s neck.

The slapping noise of skin on skin as he’s taken, as Terry chases his release, both of their releases, in each other.

Hands grab slim hips, feeling the bone under his palm, fingers digging in, greedy and covetous, but Daniel can feel the love even if he can also feel the bruises it is leaving.

Love with teeth, it suits them.

Always did.

And a love that leaves marks from those teeth, stained red with blood.

A love that is visible - a mixture of pleasure and pain, sometimes in equal measure.

That is them.

“Oh,” he sobs out as he comes in the space between them, not even a hand on his cock needed.

The clenching of his body, already a tight and perfect fit around Terry’s cock, is the older man’s undoing, and his hand grasps the smaller man’s side, covering the now barely visible scar, as empties himself inside the smaller body.

Daniel’s legs fall off his sides, splayed open obscenely as Terry fills and fills and fills him. He moans softly at the sensation of Terry’s come inside him, which doesn’t seem to be stopping, the warming blooming through him as his hips keep gently fucking in, making sure it’s as deep as it can go, making sure Daniel is even more full than he thought possible.

Finally finished, Terry collapses on top of Daniel, careful as he does though. He’s always careful with his boy, even if sometimes it’s his own personal brand of it.

He doesn’t bother to pull out, loathe to leave Daniel’s body until he absolutely has to, even if he is eager to see the mess he’s left his boy in.

There is always later for that.

They have that luxury of later now.

Who would have thought that here, of all places, a second, third, and fourth chance.

Terry’s lost count.

As many as they need to get it right.

Terry will see to that.