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emmasbrain · 16 hours

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Miscommunication (the fun kind)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Warnings: slight alcohol consumption? i think that’s all, nothing NSFW in this one

Synopsis: Your good friend Penelope sees you in a bar and begs you to sit with her and her work friends. You realise you like one. She also realises you like one. She however, thinks you like the wrong one.

The moment Penelope spotted you, she gasped. “Oh my god!” You spun round on your seat on the bar towards her running over to you in unrunnable heels, a brilliant smile gracing her face and a surprised one falling to yours as you saw each other.

“Penelope?” You hopped off your bar stool and pulled her into a hug. “It’s been too long darlin’. I feel like we haven’t seen each other in years.” You gushed, definitely over exaggerating your circumstances.

“Didn’t we go for coffee last Thursday?” She giggles, and you see the familiar glint in her eye that she only got after a couple of margaritas.

“Like I said, years!” You giggled right back, and she held your hands, leaning in towards you more.

“Who are you here with?” She questioned, looking around.

You shrugged casually, “I came with some girls from work, but they all left with guys and I decided to drink my loneliness away… Except I haven’t actually had a drink yet because I’ve been sitting here debating whether I really want to drink alone.” Your words, though holding a little weight, came out with a laugh and a self deprecating sigh.

Penelope gave you a look, and you knew she was brewing something. “What if… you come sit with us?” Before you can ask questions or protest, she continues, “You know I’ve always wanted to introduce you to the team, which is who I’m here with, and it would be good for you too ‘cus it means you can drink not on your own.” She gives you puppy dog eyes, and clasps her hands together waiting for your answer.

You relent, deciding the sooner you had an interaction with her FBI friends the sooner it was over. You had heard some things, and they seemed lovely, but they were her friends and you had the feeling you wouldn’t be very welcome with your job as a journalist. “Okay fine, but you can’t mention my job. I don’t want them to hate me on the first impression.”

“It’s okay they know, I told them ages ago about what you do. Alright you stay here, I’ll go tell them and then I can introduce you.” She was practically buzzing, so excited you could see it in the air around her. She shuffled away happily, and came back to drag you over a moment later.

As you approached the group, she introduced you in order of where they sat around the table. “That’s JJ, Derek, David, Hotch, Emily, and Spencer. Everybody, this is my friend Y/N.” She smiles all big and goofy and then scrunches up her face in disappointment. “There’s no chairs left.”

You take this as an opportunity. “Well, I suppose that means I should g-“

“Here, you can have mine. I’ll grab one from over there.” Spencer quickly finds a solution, standing to walk over to an unused table and fetch another chair. You follow him with your eyes as he lifts it over. Doctor Spencer Reid. Penelope had mentioned the man on multiple occasions. Ever the problem solver, you gathered from her ramblings on the things he would do and say.

Penelope sits in the chair between JJ and Derek, and the latter lets his arm rest on Penelope’s shoulders. As you sit down in Spencer’s sacrificed chair, he pulls another one in between you and JJ, and you both awkwardly smile at each other before you look down to your hands in your lap. “Thank you.” You whisper to him.

“What for?” He whispers back.

“The chair.” You mumble, and he nods.

“It’s no problem.”

“Okay, I say we get some drinks. How bout it, pretty girl?” Derek's words snap you from your awkwardness, and you smile, realising he’s given you a nickname already.

“I am in dire need of a beer.” You reply, and Emily looks at you from your right.

“Beer, huh? I woulda coined you for a vodka redbull kinda girl. All for the thrills.” She looks at you with a smirk and you shake your head with a giggle.

“I’m normally a whiskey kinda girl actually, I get that from my parents. I only very rarely drink vodka, it just makes me want to make out with people.” The embarrassment soaks in the moment the words come out of your mouth and you realise you’ve just told a group of behavioural analysts that vodka makes you horny.

“Alcohol oftentimes does have the effect of making you sexually confident and can heighten feelings of affection and make you more open to try things sexually. One could assume that your specific set of hormones are just more affected by the chemicals in vodka in comparison to other alcohols.” Spencer pulls his lips into a straight line, and you giggle at his readily available information. Penelope wasn’t joking.

“Thanks, Doc.” You bump his shoulder, and he looks a little confused but mumbles a “No problem” anyway. As he looks away towards Derek and Penelope, you take the chance to study his features discreetly. The angle of his jaw perfectly contrasts the softness of his eyes, the honey brown colour almost sparkling within the dim lighting of the bar. His cheeks are tinged pink from the currently inaudible teasing from Derek, and there’s a little smile on his lips that you could almost envision yourself kissing.

Derek breaks you out of your head a second time. “Hey pretty girl, you wanna go get those drinks now?” He flashes you a grin and you smile, nodding.

“Yea let’s do it. Does everyone know what they want?” As you’re trying to split everyone’s orders between you and Derek, Penelope gives you a look that says “do you have the hots for my friend?” and you give her a look back that says “maybe..” she gasps and the whole table turns to look at her, making her realise that she’d turned the conversation into an out loud one now.

“You know what? Us girls can handle those drinks, Derek. Why don’t you have a seat.” She drags you up to the bar and orders quickly before she forgets, and then whips round to face you.

“You like him. I saw it on your face. You like him!!” She whisper shouts and you glance back to Derek and Spencer hunched over the table chatting. You smile.

“Look at him! Of course I like him, who wouldn’t like him? He’s simultaneously cute and hot and I swear men aren’t supposed to work like that.” You whisper shout back at her, and her smiles sadly.

“I wish I could set you up, but he’s taken. And his girlfriend is amazing so I can’t even be mad about it.” She sighs, and you slightly deflate.

“Oh man, I can’t believe the first time in years that I actually want a guy he’s taken. Just my luck, I suppose.” You laugh, and grab the drinks that have been sat on the bar. “Well, it was nice while it lasted.” You shrug your shoulders and head back over to the table with her, handing everyone their drinks and sitting back next to Spencer to sip your own.

After an hour or so, conversation was going a tad dry, and you decided to use an old icebreaker your college roommate had taught you to get things flowing again. “Okay, one after the other I want everyone to tell the group something embarrassing. It can be anything, as long as it’s about you.” Everyone nods in agreement, and Derek starts.

“There was this one time I was flirting with a girl while I was out with my mom. Now that was my first mistake, my mom comes over and starts talkin to this girl askin if she’s my girlfriend. I said momma I’ve only just met her, and she said ‘well then you better hurry up, this girl is far too beautiful for you to pass up’. Before I could even speak, the girl says ‘I think you’re too beautiful to pass up’. She was talkin to my mom! And I just thought hey maybe she’s just tryna get on moms good side, you know? You win over mom, you win over me. But then she spent 10 minutes flirting with my mother until I had to drag her away. My mom will not stop bringing it up just to mock me.”

Spencer cracked up beside you at the story, and you couldn't help laughing a little with him.

Penelope pipes in, “Tell them when this happened.” He grimaces.

“Last year.” He barely says it loud enough to hear, but you all catch it and it sends you all into a fit of laughter.

Rossi reminisces about the time he proposed to one of his ex wives, and she said no. In public. Then later in the day said yes, telling him she just wanted to embarrass him the way his public proposal had embarrassed her.

Hotch talks of the time he finished work early and decided to pick up Jack from school. The teacher had asked him if he was Jack’s grandfather, and he had to explain that he most definitely was not.

“I once hugged my friend from behind to tell her goodbye at a party. It wasn’t my friend.” Is all Emily gives for details. She grimaces at the sheer memory of it, and you can’t help the little smile that graces your lips.

“My turn then?” You question the group, and they nod. “I probably should’ve used this time to think of what I was gonna say. Well I suppose I’ll use the only one that’s currently present in my mind,” You turn to face Spencer, “I was gonna ask you out before Penelope had to drag me away and tell me you were taken. Which was slightly embarrassing for me in the moment, but as I’m saying this I realise I’ve just embarrassed myself even more.” You nod through your internal pain at how stupid you felt, and took a deep breath before trying to move on. Spencer looked too taken aback to let that happen.

“You were gonna ask me out? And Penelope told you I was in a relationship? Why would she do that?” He looks plain confused now, and you mirror his expression.

“I never told you Spencer was in a relationship. I told you Derek was in a relationship, because I thought he was the friend you said you liked! Wait. So when you said he was hot you meant Spencer?” Now even Penelope looked confused, although not exactly for the same reason you were.

“Yes! Of course I meant Spencer! No offence Derek, you’re lovely but you’re not my type.” You rushed, giving him a sheepish smile.

“And I am?” Spencer speaks again.

“Pretty much yea.” The smile he gives you at your words makes you look away nervously.

“So what you mean is that if you hadn’t been told I was taken I could have went on a date with you?” He’s looking inquisitively at your face now, tracing for signs of a lie as he waits for you to respond.

“You still could go on a date with me.” You suggest, with a little shrug and a smile that reaches your eyes.

“I’d like that.” He nods, slightly enthusiastic but trying to play it cool.

“Me too.” You nod with him. “I should probably be heading home, I have work I still need to catch up on. But I could give you my number and you could take me to your favourite place or something. Somewhere I can get to know you just from looking around.” You suggest, gathering your things and scribbling your number down on a spare napkin.

“That sounds good- great. That sounds great.” His eyes are filled with a mixture of excitement and something else you’re not sure about, but the look on his face makes you smile.

“Call me then.” You nod finally, getting up to leave. You give everyone their goodbyes, hugging them all lightly and giving Spencer a little wave.

Over the next few days the anticipation of his call is almost overwhelming. And when your phone begins to ring, an unfamiliar number popping up on the screen, you bite your nail before clicking the answer button. “Hello?”

“Hi.”

A/N: I don’t actually really like this, but it’s fine. I wanna do a part two, someone tell me to do a part two plsplsplspls. (May rewrite this once i’m not jet lagged and cramming it between studying but idk)

#doctor spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds

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mrchiipchrome · 15 hours

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Character Introductions

(yes, I know I should've done this before the first part was posted but I didn't so y'all get it now)

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

Nika Mühl as herself

Height: 5’11

Age: 20

School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Women’s Basketball Team (#10), Croatia (#10)

Nicknames: Mühl, Love, Secretary Of Defense, Pookie (only by Paige)

Nationality: Croatian

Instagram: nika.muhl

Alt: nikalovesbball

“I don’t like her like that, we’re just friends, nothing more.”

“I don’t know what I want yet, but I do know that I want it with you. Not someone like you, it’s you that I want.”

“You know, I was always a Chelsea fan.”

You as Yourself (shhh, just imagine.)

Height: Tall as fuck

Age: 18

School/Team: Harvard, Harvard Women’s Soccer Team (#10), England WNT (#10/2+8)

Nicknames: Grumpy, Kid/Kiddo, Troll Child (Leah), Baby, Tiny (only by Paige), Captain

Nationality: English

Instagram: y/n.y/l/n

Alt: norflondonforever

“North London forever, whatever the weather, these streets are our own.”

“I want a beach house in Barcelona, with the most amazing view of the water. And maybe a dog, or a cat. And I want to run a small surf shop at the corner of the beach, hidden away from everything. That’s what my legacy will be, just you me and our beach house in Barca.”

“Sorry coach, I gotta go see ‘bout a girl.”

Gabbi Broussard as Emma 'Em' Whitmore

Height: 5’9

Age: 20

School/Team: Harvard, Harvard Women’s Soccer Team (#18), USWNT (#28)

Nicknames: Em, Emily, Emma Hayes (only by you to annoy her), Ugly

Nationality: American/Canadian

Instagram: emwhit18

Alt: thebetterwhitmore

“Cal’s not scary, he looks like the rat from Flushed Away.”

“I think you need to stop thinking about what everyone else wants and start thinking about what you want. This situation, it’s not your fault that you caught feelings, but it is your fault that you’re pushing her away, so man the fuck up and do the right thing.”

“Will you stop singing that already?”

Callum Turner as Callum 'Cal' Whitmore

Height: 6’4

Age: 23

School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Men’s Basketball Team(#26), US Men’s Basketball(#22)

Nicknames: Cal, Gollum, The Rat from Flushed Away

Nationality: American/Canadian

Instagram: callumwhitmore

Alt: nottheratfromflushedaway

“I don’t look like the fucking rat from Flushed Away, stop telling people that.”

“Em, dad called, he said shut up.”

“Watching you trying to flirt is the single most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done.”

Robert Sean Leonard as Coach 'Dad' Daniels

Height: 6’0

Age: 66

School/Team: Head Coach of Harvard Women’s Soccer Team

Nicknames: Coach, Dad, Coach Dad, Pops, Ancient Being

Nationality: American

Instagram: headcoachdaniels

Alt: doesn’t have one, he’s too much of an old fart

“It’s called intermittent fasting, look it up, you should try it sometime.”

“No, for the last time, me and Coach Hansen aren’t secretly married with two dogs, you all need less free time to come up with theories like that, this isn’t dead poet’s society. Extra training sessions the whole week out.”

“Are those hickeys? Okay ladies, when you want to have sex make sure to cover up the evidence after, I do not need to know more about your intimate lives than I already do.”

Ethan Hawke as Coach Hansen

Height: 5’11

Age: 62

School/team: Harvard Men’s Soccer Team Head Coach

Nicknames: Coach Daniels’ Husband, Dad #2, Mr. Sir

Nationality: American/British

Instagram: headcoachhansen

Alt: an old fart like his husband, so no alt for him

“So you kids thought you’d get a different answer from me than from Coach Daniels? Why are you kids so incessant on trying to find out if we’re together or not.”

“Don’t tell anyone, but I kissed Coach Daniels last night. It was like something straight out of a movie, something so poetic about it.”

“This is Buddy, me and Coach Daniels adopted him so that he could be our mascot. No other reason.”

Paige Bueckers as herself

Height: 6’0

Age: 20

School/Team: University of Connecticut (UConn), UConn Women’s Basketball Team (#5), USA Women’s Basketball Team (#5)

Nicknames: PBuckets, PB&J, The Third Jonas Brother

Nationality: American

Instagram: paigebueckers

Alt: p5buckets

“I’ll beat you on Fifa all day every day.”

“God Nika, admit it, you like her. I can see it from a mile away and this thing you’re doing, this back and forth, will they won’t they, is going to hurt you both in the end. All I’m suggesting is that you evaluate what you want from this relationship and then take it from there.”

“I’m always right, it’s scientifically impossible for me to be wrong.”

Leah Williamson as herself

Height: 5’7

Age: 25

School/Team: Arsenal Women’s Team (#6), England WNT (#6/8/5)

Nicknames: Lee, Will, Spurs Nr 1 Fan, Oldie, Capi

Nationality: English

Instagram: leahwilliamsonn

Alt: will.i.am.son

“I’M NOT A SPURS FAN, STOP SAYING THAT.”

“Y’know in all the time I’ve known you kid, I’ve never seen you this enamoured with someone, you’re so in love it’s making me sick.”

“You’re like the little sister I never had.”

Lucy Bronze as herself

Height: 5’7

Age: 30

School/Team: FC Barcelona Femení (#15), England WNT (#2)

Nicknames: Lucia, Robert, Luce, Prehistoric Being, Dad

Nationality: English/Portuguese

Instagram: lucybronze

Alt: bronzesilvergold

“Ugh, the ladies just love me don’t they.”

“I’m down with the lingo, I’ve got so much rizz that the boomers come running. Cowabunga.”

“Love is…love is effortless, it makes you feel all jittery and when you’re around them you feel like you can do anything. You’ll know it once you feel it kid, don’t try to rush the process, let it wash over you like the waves at the beach.”

Everyone else as themselves, also the other's alt instagrams will explained when they appear

#woso #woso x reader #lionesses #arsenal wfc #woso imagines #wbb x reader #uconn wbb #nika muhl #nika muhl x reader #10/10 series #harvard women's soccer team

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hwashotcheeto · 3 days

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𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 (10)

Best Friend's Mother Masterlist

Chapter: Ten

Milf!Park Seonghwa X gn!reader

Summary: Christmas has finally come. But with it, the end of Winter Break, and feelings that both you and Seonghwa are still too scared to confront.

WC: 6.3k

CW: Fluff, angst, suggestive but it cuts off

AN: I'm so sorry this took so long. I don't have much to say, other than this is more angsty than I planned, but I think it makes for a better story. I hope it's a good part one finale for you all, and you enjoy, as always. 💜

Tag List: @hyunjinsjeans @malldreamprincess @unlikelysublimekryptonite @goayeos @kittkat44 @babyxhoiz @asleepylilcat @mxnsxngie @rxnexxi @mommahwa1117 @acciocriativity @anxiousskylar @h3arteyes4mingi @jus2passtime @asjkdk @soso59love-blog @i-love-ateez @cb97s-laptop @multistanbaby

It was December 24th, and you were awake way earlier than you wanted to be, standing in a jewelry store, looking through the glass of the display case at the many expensive, gorgeous, necklaces.

But tomorrow was Christmas, and you needed a gift for Seonghwa, so sacrifices had to be made.

You’d already figured out a gift for Wooyoung ages ago, you had it wrapped and ready in your guest room at the house.

Now you were here, looking for a gift for his mother.

You often had moments where you still couldn’t believe the life you were currently living.

“Do you need help?” You snapped your head up to find the person who spoke to you, and your eyes found a sweet older woman, smiling at you from behind her glasses. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, dear.”

“No, it’s alright,” you said back, offering back a half smile as you tried to collect yourself. “I’m just looking for a last minute gift.

“Oh, well, what exactly are you looking for?” The older woman came closer, looking over the necklaces in the case as you were.

At that moment, you realized that you really didn’t know what to look for.

You had a good sense of Seonghwa’s style by now, but in terms of jewelry, you were a little stumped. In the month you’d been there, the three of you hadn’t really gone out, so none of you really “dressed up.”

But of the things you did see, you weren’t sure what he preferred. He usually wore chains, something elegant to go with his already sophisticated outfits.

But at the same time, you didn’t want a generic, expensive diamond necklace on a silver chain. Most necklaces looked like that, just a pretty pendant on a cheap, boring chain.

Of course, they had their own charm, and you had a few necklaces like that yourself. But you wanted to find him something special, something as unique as he was.

You were wishing you’d asked Wooyoung what Seonghwa would wear, but even you knew about Wooyoung’s inability to shut the fuck up. So if you did ask, you ran the risk of spoiling the surprise.

“I don’t really know,” you mumbled, putting your hands into the pocket of your hoodie.

“Well, maybe I can help you,” the older woman offered, giving you another sweet smile. You had to admit, in the back of your mind, you were doubtful. But you’d accept any help you could at that moment.

You nodded, and the older woman nodded back. “So, who is it for?”

You hesitated, even if this was the expected first question. Considering the previous day’s events, you were even more hesitant to even breathe a word of your infatuation with Seonghwa to anyone.

So you spit out some half formed excuse that you hoped sounded believable. “For someone I’ve been seeing.”

The older woman’s eyes lit up like stars as a big smile spread across her face. You couldn’t help but smile with her.

“Isn’t that precious?” She looked at the display cases again before she looked back at you. “What are they like? What do they like to wear?”

Like magic, there he was in your mind. Seonghwa, in his gorgeous dresses and outfits. Walking like a queen with the way he held himself. His gorgeous smile that lit up the world, and his bright doe eyes.

He was everything. He was wonderful.

“He’s very mature,” you began, not picking up on the fact that “he” was the pronoun that came out. “He dresses expensively. He’s a type that likes the finer things in life.”

“You’re looking for something a little more expensive?” The woman teased with a little grin, but you nodded in agreement. You did have a budget, as your student loan money that you were using couldn’t all go to a Christmas present.

But for Seonghwa, you’d do it.

“Come with me.” The older woman began walking around to a different display case, and the necklaces here were far more ornate and expensive than the ones you were looking at. Your heart stopped when you saw the price tag on one of them.

One of these necklaces could easily pay for at least half a year of your tuition. That was intimidating, to say the very least.

The older woman must’ve saw the color drain from your face, because she quickly leaned on the counter and spoke to you softly: “This is where I tell people to look for the piece they want, and then we usually find something more affordable that’s close to what they want.”

Your entire body sagged with relief.

So there you went, looking over the necklaces they had. These ones weren’t just jewels on a chain, they were much more detailed than that, more intricate. There was more color in them, more styles overall.

As you were weighing your options, you were imagining Seonghwa in your mind, picturing how he’d look with each of them, what he’d wear with them, how it would look against his honey skin.

A few times, you got a little too wrapped up in your fantasies and had to pull yourself back.

You repeated the process until your eyes landed on the one. The one you could perfectly see Seonghwa wearing.

It was a choker with a large red stone in the center, with many others around it. There were a few diamonds around it as well, but they were quite small.

It could’ve been a crown.

“This one?” The older woman asked, knocking you out of your thoughts and back to reality. You shook yourself and nodded, smiling. “It’s quite expensive, are you sure?”

You looked at the price tag, and the necklace would definitely drain your bank account.

But you wanted it. You wanted him to have it.

“Yes,” you said, nodding. “I want that one.”

The older woman hesitated for a moment, but then she nodded as well, and went to wrap up the choker. You watched as she took it and put it into a silk lined velvet box, laying it out carefully, as if she could feel the price of every gemstone.

You followed her around the counter to where she was going to ring it up, trying your best to not be impatient. But the older woman couldn’t help but smile at your fidgeting and shifting around.

Just thinking about Seonghwa wearing it, how pretty the red would look against his skin, the chains around his pretty neck-

“Please insert your card, dear,” the older woman called, still smiling brightly.

You babbled out a “sorry” as you fumbled for your card to pay for the choker. The old woman was still smiling as you went through with the payment.

And yes, the choker was incredibly expensive. No, it didn’t count as a student expense.

But it was worth it for Seonghwa.

The older woman pushed the bag across the counter to you. “There you go.” She flashed that sweet, warm smile at you again as you carefully lifted the bag off the counter. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

At that moment, you looked into her eyes. You looked for any deceit. Any lies. Any possible malice or potential push back.

But there was nothing. Just light and joy.

You smiled back and nodded as relief washed over you. “I think so too.”

You placed the bag underneath the Christmas tree, hiding it behind the present you got Wooyoung. Thankfully, the both of them were still asleep when you arrived back at the house.

A stark contrast to the night before, the house was quiet, and empty. No people, no music, nothing. Just a house, full of decorations.

But now, you were fortunate for everyone to be asleep so you could tuck your very expensive, very special present behind the others.

But since the moment you left the store, you were having doubts. You just spent a lot of money on Seonghwa. You bought him something very special, something most people don’t gift to others unless they’ve known each other for quite some time.

You hadn’t known Seonghwa for quite some time. In fact, most people would think you’re doing much more than you should so early on. Even you were thinking that.

But you couldn’t deny the ache in your chest when you thought about Seonghwa. The goddamn ache, the feeling that could’ve dropped you to your knees if you weren’t careful. The ache you felt all over your body when you didn’t get the chance to even hold his hand, to hug him, to be with him.

The crippling feeling when you thought about going back to campus and not seeing him for months.

Maybe you were falling too soon and too hard. Maybe this wasn’t right.

You moved to reach for the bag when you heard two doors open and close. As footsteps moved across the hardwood floor upstairs, you worked to get your jacket and shoes off as quickly and quietly as possible before the owners came downstairs.

You closed the door to the coat closet as Yeosang and Jongho made their way down the stairs, wearing what looked like Wooyoung’s shirts and shorts, their hair messy and eyes half open. You gave them the best smile you could muster at that point, but tried to not over do it.

“What are you doing up so early?” Jongho asked, his voice scratchy and low. Your eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall in the living room, above the TV, and it was just after seven. Would it be early if you were still on campus? No.

But you weren’t on campus, so yes, it was early.

But you realized you didn’t have an excuse as to why you were up so early.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” you babbled, trying to sound as nonchalant as you could manage. To your relief, the two half awake men in front of you weren’t in the mood to interrogate you.

“Us too,” Yeosang agreed, following Jongho into the kitchen. You did the same, getting glasses of water with them and sitting at the kitchen table.

None of you said anything for a few moments. You three were enjoying the early morning silence, the peace, the few stray strands of sunlight peeking in through the windows and stretching across the floor.

Eventually, Jongho broke the peaceful silence. “Do you think San and Wooyoung will be down before noon?”

Yeosang pretended to think as he took another sip from his glass. He looked off, as if into the distance, like he was prophesying about the future. You couldn’t help but laugh. The sound made Yeosang smile.

“No, I think they’ll be there until we go find them,” he concluded, finishing the rest of his water afterwards. You nodded in agreement, taking another sip from your glass.

“I expected the same from you.” Jongho looked at you over the rim of his glass as he sipped his water. You looked down as your face began to burn. You didn’t have an answer to that, so you kept quiet. But you knew your friends wouldn’t let you off easy.

Yeosang continued the conversation as he set his glass down in front of himself. “Yeah, it is a little weird that you’re awake so early, fully dressed, standing by the front door.”

Both men were looking at you now as you stared down at the table, your face burning like the sun, the heat pulsing in waves.

It’s not that you were worried that they’d spoil the surprise. You were more afraid of their opinions and judgements of the gift you got. You could handle the jokes and even fire back at them, and you welcomed the banter about the relationship you’d found yourself in.

But you were already beginning to have second thoughts about the expensive present sitting across the house, tucked away under the tree, hidden away from sight because you were embarrassed.

It was everything you were afraid of. Falling too hard too fast, committing to something larger than yourself, something you very well might not be ready for.

“Hey,” Jongho called, waving his hand close to your face. “You kinda spaced there, you okay?”

You blinked a few times, like you were rebooting yourself, and smiled as best you could. “Yeah, sorry, I’m good.”

“Are you sure?” Yeosang countered. Their slightly amused faces turned to ones of concern, their eyebrows down. They weren’t sure what exactly was in your head, but they knew it wasn’t nothing, like you were about to tell them it was.

And you knew they would push. But you didn’t want to vent all of your worries and fears and poor life choices at seven in the morning, especially when they didn’t know the full extent of the month’s events.

Thankfully, you had your out, as Wooyoung came down the stairs with San close behind. They both looked like they’d skipped the waking up part of waking up, with fluttering mostly closed eyes and their hair the best example of a “rat’s nest.”

Yeosang and Jongho looked up at them as they came into the kitchen, sliding their feet across the floor, hardly picking them up.

“Good morning, sunshine,” you said cheerfully, trying to steer the conversation to the two zombie looking men that strode in. The two men at the table, to your relief, joined you in teasing the others.

“The year hasn’t changed yet, just for reference,” Jongho threw out. Wooyoung rolled his eyes as he continued past the table to the cabinet to get himself and San a drink.

San followed him, stopping when he did, wrapping his arms around Wooyoung’s waist from behind and laying his head on the younger’s shoulder.

With the heat off you, you breathed a small sigh of relief. You knew this wouldn’t be the last of the conversation, but that would be a problem for future you to handle.

Seonghwa didn’t wake up until an hour after San and Wooyoung had. That was to be expected, after all the party planning and hosting he’d done the day prior. Not to mention, the emotional distress was quite draining.

Wooyoung helped him with breakfast, and you all ate with minimal conversation, of which you were grateful for. The less you spoke, the less chances you had to expose or incriminate yourself.

The rest of the morning was mostly slow and quiet. You were all still recovering and resting from the previous day, and dreading the end of Winter Break as a whole.

Classes started again in the second week of January, but you and Wooyoung had agreed to be back on campus by January 1st.

If you weren’t counting Christmas Eve, the day you were thinking all of this, you had only one week left. Seven more days until you had to leave.

It didn’t help that Seonghwa was being particularly clingy that day. He sat next to you at breakfast, he was holding your hand, he was giving you little kisses.

He hugged you from behind as you were helping with the dishes, holding you tight while his body pressed into yours.

He wordlessly demanded cuddles from you when everyone dispersed after breakfast. He pulled you onto the couch and held you tight, almost falling right back asleep when he did.

You didn’t think, or really even wanted to, ask why Seonghwa was so attached to you that day. You told yourself it was because he was tired. Or maybe he realized you would be leaving in a week too.

Whatever it was, you were conflicted.

You couldn’t stop thinking as you laid in Seonghwa’s arms, your head on his chest. You wanted to relax into his warmth and safety and let the tension melt off your body.

But you kept thinking of that goddamn choker. The choker you were so proud of finding, that you gladly spent so much money on, the choker that you knew would look amazing on him.

It was stuck in your head because you didn’t know if you were actually going to give it to him or not.

Maybe you’d just take it back to campus with you and save it for another time. Maybe you’d return it altogether. You’d just sit with Wooyoung as Seonghwa opened the Lego sets Wooyoung said you both could take credit for.

Maybe that was the safer option. Maybe that was the less crazy option.

But as you began to accept that conclusion and make peace with it, the ache was back.

As you listened to Seonghwa’s steady heartbeat, feeling his hand run up and down your back, the ache returned with a burning passion. Your breathing grew labored, like the ache was genuinely squeezing your heart and forcing the air out of your lungs.

Tears welled in your eyes as you imagined shoving the choker’s bag into your own and taking it back to campus with you. The ache spread to your arms and legs as you thought about never presenting the gift to him, and simply just watching him open the presents Wooyoung bought.

Your whole body hurt. It felt like a pulsing, squeezing pain, and you couldn’t escape it. You couldn’t stop the tears from running down your face.

You’d fallen in too deep. You fell too hard, too fast.

Everything you’d been afraid of had happened exactly as you thought it would.

By the time your friends left, the sky was already darkening again. As much as you all would’ve loved for them to stay, they had families to go home to as well.

You wondered how long it would be before San and Wooyoung were consistently going to each other’s family events. Or even hosting their own.

But it was hours since then, and you were sitting back on the couch with Seonghwa and Wooyoung. Seonghwa sat between the two of you, his arm around your shoulders, holding you tight against him, with Wooyoung sitting the same way.

But Wooyoung was stretched across most of the couch and his arms were dramatically thrown around Seonghwa, like he was a figure in a painting you’d find in an old museum.

You three had agreed to get snacks and drinks and watch Christmas movies until midnight, when you could open your gifts for each other.

But the movies kept getting interrupted by Wooyoung being impatient, general commentary, and before you all knew it, you were all talking again with the movies long forgotten.

In a way, you preferred this. The more time you spent talking, the less time you had to think about the impending time of your decision. But as the clock ticked down, as midnight drew closer, your efforts were in vain.

All you could think of was that goddamn choker. The repeated question of “will you, won’t you” flashing across your eyes like some kind of horror montage.

You started to feel sick. Your stomach was churning, your head felt light. You were pretty sure you were beginning to turn green. All over a fucking choker.

Midnight drew ever closer, and the dread in your stomach intensified and grew with every second that ticked by. Your eyes kept jumping back and forth, from the clock on the wall to the TV and back again.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when Wooyoung sat up and yelled, “It’s Christmas!”

Your hands were slightly shaking as Wooyoung got up from the couch and pulled you and Seonghwa along, dragging you across the room to kneel down by the Christmas tree.

The warm lights of the tree that once brought you comfort now nearly made you vomit.

You swallowed it back as you settled next to the tree on the hardwood floor, pushing the bag with the choker further back into the corner. Your wrapped your arm around your back in an effort to do so as subtly as possible.

Seonghwa also came to sit on the floor in front of the tree between you and Wooyoung, but only after he’d gotten a trash bag to put the discarded wrapping paper in. Wooyoung happily shoved a box towards Seonghwa, a huge smile stretched across his face.

“We got this one for you!” He dropped the present in Seonghwa’s lap as he reached over to grab the other boxes that had Seonghwa’s name on the tag. “And these ones too.”

Seonghwa pouted, but then smiled warmly at his son. Oh, how ethereal he looked under the light of the Christmas tree, delicately highlighting his warm skin and putting sparkles in his eyes.

You shook your head and came back to the present as Seonghwa began to tear the wrapping paper off the box in his lap. His smile grew bigger the more he revealed the box, and finally laughed in excitement.

“Oh, nae sarang,” Seonghwa sighed, putting the wrapping paper in the trash bag. “This is so sweet of you, thank you.”

Wooyoung was absolutely beaming, his smile outshining the tree beside him. His eyes flicked over to you, and you couldn’t help but share his smile. Seonghwa looked at you too, and your heart fluttered at the genuine gratitude in them.

“Thank you too, jagiya.”

You just nodded, your heart cracking a little.

But you happily watched Seonghwa tear open the rest of the boxes. His eyes lit up every time, laughing in pure joy at the brand new expensive Lego sets. You nodded every time he said thank you, but guilt pulled at your heart knowing you didn’t actually contribute in any way.

But Wooyoung didn’t seem to mind. He was just as happy seeing Seonghwa open the presents, as if he was the one receiving them instead of giving them out.

You were truly the luckiest person to have Wooyoung.

After Seonghwa had finished unwrapping the Lego boxes, he stacked them up and put them aside, and then pulled Wooyoung into a tight hug.

“Thank you, nae sarang,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“You’re welcome, Eomma,” Wooyoung whispered, squeezing Seonghwa tighter.

Your heart cracked again.

Wooyoung pulled away from Seonghwa and reached back under the tree for a bag. It looked fairly inconspicuous, just a regular white bag with white tissue paper sticking out the top. But in your experience with Wooyoung, quiet and boring was always suspicious.

Seeing your hesitation, Wooyoung sighed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not a bomb, don’t look at it like that,” he whined. “Just open it.”

“It’s a bag, it’s already open,” you teased, to which Wooyoung groaned and rolled his head back. Both you and Seonghwa let out a soft giggle.

“Just open it, please!”

With another giggle, you pulled the tissue paper aside and looked into the bag, seeing a bundle wrapped in more tissue paper. You carefully pulled it out and pulled the paper off to reveal the gift.

“Wooyoung,” you breathed as you looked over the expensive outfit in your hands. The logo on the tag was what you saw first, your head shooting up to look at him in bewilderment. “What is this?”

“Clothes, dummy,” he answered with his award winning smile again. “Now you don’t have to borrow my clothes for events.”

You know his comment was a joke, but his words went straight to your heart. You hadn’t asked for this, Hell, you didn’t even think about buying it for yourself.

But you finally had a nice outfit for events, or parties.

Or maybe even future restaurant dates.

“Thank you.” You carefully folded the clothes back up, as if they’d unravel in your hands, and laid them back in the bag.

“You don’t have to thank me, it was a necessity.”

You rolled your eyes, to which Wooyoung just smiled. You couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same.

“Is it my turn now?” Seonghwa asked as you put the bag aside. Your eyes caught a glimpse of your own gift behind the tree again.

“Sure,” you breathed, your lungs shrinking. Wooyoung eagerly reached under the tree and grabbed a box, wrapped in gold wrapping paper, with his name written on it in Hangul.

He wasted no time in shredding the paper, almost reminiscent of a cat, and revealed a large, expensive laptop. Wooyoung just stared at it for a few moments with his jaw hanging open, his eyes the size of dinner plates.

“Eomma,” he whispered, then looked up at Seonghwa. “When I said I wanted a new one, I wasn’t serious,” he started to explain, but Seonghwa held up his hand to stop him.

“I don’t care, I wanted to get it for you. And I think college would be a little difficult with a broken laptop.”

You held back a giggle remembering the moment Wooyoung dramatically wailed about how he accidentally knocked his previous laptop off a table and onto the linoleum floor of the classroom.

Wooyoung just stared at Seonghwa for a few moments, like he was about to tell his son it was all a joke. But when Seonghwa just smiled at him, in the warm mom way, Wooyoung smiled too and hugged the box.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, nae sarang.”

Wooyoung set the box aside carefully, slowly setting it down beside him, making sure it would be safe before he turned to you and Seonghwa.

You looked up at Seonghwa, and he smiled at you warmly before he reached over and squeezed your hand. “Your present comes later.”

It took every ounce of strength to not burst into tears right then and there. You just mustered up the best smile you could and nodded. There was no teasing look in Seonghwa’s eyes, no allusion to more. Just his warm smile and bright eyes.

“Eomma, I didn’t need to know that,” Wooyoung groaned dramatically, speaking loudly as he flung himself back to lay on the floor. You rolled your eyes as Seonghwa pulled his hand away and looked back at Wooyoung.

“It’s not like that,” he began, but Wooyoung just whined again.

“If you’re gonna be like that, then I won’t give you your present,” you added as you pulled out a large, black bag from under the tree, with black wrapping paper sticking out of it.

Wooyoung shot up and looked at you, and then at the bag, then back again in confusion. His brows went down as he opened his mouth to question you, but you just slid the bag across the floor to him.

“I’ve had them hidden for months,” you explained as wooyoung grabbed the bag.

“Them?”

“Yes, them, now go look!”

Wooyoung looked at the bag again, this time with a look of concern instead of confusion, like something was about to jump out at him. He studied the still bag for a few more moments before he finally pulled out the tissue paper and looked inside.

And he pulled out two small plushies: A black cat and a red fox.

Wooyoung gasped as he pulled them out, then hugged them tightly. “You remembered!” He exclaimed as he looked at them again, turning them over and admiring all the little details.

Months prior, Wooyoung wouldn’t stop talking about these plushies he wanted. He had a collection going, and he needed those two to complete it, but he never had a chance to get them.

So one night, you did. You ordered them online and hid them in your dorm for months, waiting for the day you could’ve given it to Wooyoung.

And here you were, on Christmas Day, finally seeing his eyes light up like stars as he looked at them both, hugging them like they were his children.

The sight helped alleviate some of the tension in your chest.

“Thank you,” he finally said to you as he looked up. You smiled, and this time, it was genuine.

“You’re welcome.”

Meanwhile, Seonghwa was smiling just as brightly. The mom smile you adored, the softness in his eyes as he looked at you both with unending fondness.

It cracked your heart all over again.

With all your presents exchanged, Seonghwa and Wooyoung collected their gifts and went to bring them to their rooms.

You did the same, but hid the choker bag in the gift bag Wooyoung gave you, and ran to your room to hide it there.

How ridiculous this all was. You bought the choker for Seonghwa, you brought it home, you’d imagined how beautiful he’d look with it. You’d walked out of that store knowing he’d gratefully accept the gift, and you were excited to see him wear it.

But how could you give someone like him something like this? This was far too much money for someone you haven’t known for nearly enough time.

But you bought it because of the goddamn pain in your chest. The suffocating, choking ache that grew ever stronger every day. It invaded every part of your body, it was in your blood and bones. Even if you wanted to smother it and shove it away, it would take forever.

You knew what it was. You knew why it was there.

But you didn’t have the courage to say it. Which is why the choker was getting shoved in the duffle bag and into the closet as you fought back tears.

Maybe you’d give it to Seonghwa another day. Maybe as a birthday present, whenever that was.

But not now. You couldn’t do it now.

As you wiped the tears from your eyes, there was a gentle knock at the door before it opened a little.

“May I come in?” It was Seonghwa, you knew it was him before he even spoke.

You nodded, as if he could see that, as you said “yes” and sat down on the bed. Seonghwa came into the room and carefully shut the door behind him before he came to sit down next to you.

In his hand was a square, navy, velvet box, about the side of a small plate. He held it out to you with a warm smile that would have melted the coldest of hearts. You took the box from him carefully, like it would disappear at any second, and were surprised when it had a little weight to it.

“It’s okay,” he said softly when you hesitated, putting one of his hands over yours. You looked up and met his big, brown eyes again. “It’s all yours, jagiya.”

You just nodded, because you couldn't think of anything meaningful to say as your eyes fell back down to the box in your hands.

You shoved away the guilt that stirred in your gut as you slowly opened the velvet case, and tears welled in your eyes all over again.

It’s like Seonghwa knew you were buying him a choker earlier, and that you wanted something with more detail and intricacies.

A necklace, but there were gemstones all up the chain with a larger one hanging from the bottom. The gemstones on the chain were small and simple. not trying to be in the way, but just to elevate the chain.

The larger, square cut gemstone that hung from the ornate chain was meant to be in the way. It wasn’t obnoxiously large, no, it was just perfect.

Everything was perfect. You were blinking back tears, it was so perfect.

“Seonghwa, this is beautiful,” you whispered, your throat closing up. You ran your fingers over the gemstones, almost like you needed to touch it to see if it was real.

Seonghwa was beaming, lighting up the whole room with his smile as he watched you admire the necklace. “You said you wanted something to show off.”

“And I will.” You carefully lifted the necklace out of the box, and as you were going to put it on, Seonghwa stopped you and reached up to take it.

“May I?” Two simple words. Words that were very small and insignificant to anyone else.

But this moment felt like much more than just putting on a necklace.

It almost felt sacred. Intimate. Like a ceremony.

You nodded and gave the necklace to Seonghwa. He moved closer and wrapped it around your neck, reaching over your shoulder to clasp it behind your neck. You felt your face burn at how close he was, with his arms around you, his body enveloping yours.

But he pulled back just a few seconds later to admire how the beautiful piece sat against your skin. Seonghwa’s eyes lit up like stars as his smile spread across his whole face again. “I knew it was perfect,” he said softly as he ran his fingers down the chain.

If your heart could beat any harder, the large stone on the necklace would’ve started shaking. It was a bizarre feeling, to be so guilty and torn up, but so elated, and desire the man before you.

And when Seonghwa’s eyes flicked up to yours, it’s as if he could see it all. Every tear, every smile, eerie second guess you’d ever had. Like he could see the entire month of December replaying in your eyes in those few seconds.

There were no other words spoken as Seonghwa leaned close and pressed his lips to yours. It was a soft kiss, feather light. Loving.

When Seonghwa laid you down on your back, your body turned to putty in his hands. Your limbs were growing weak as you wrapped them around his body. You wanted him as close as close could be, wanted to remember his taste, every soft moan as he breathed his life into every kiss, the touch of his hands on every part of your body.

You wanted it all. And Seonghwa was more than happy to provide.

The first day of the new year had come and gone. The thirty one days of December went by faster than they had in previous years.

But as you and Wooyoung loaded your bags back up into his car, you were anything but joyful.

“We’ll visit again during Spring Break,” he reassured you as he closed the trunk. “And it’s not like you don’t have his number, you can still talk to him.”

Wooyoung was trying his best to reassure you, but his face fell when he realized nothing was working. Everything he was telling you, you already knew it. Obviously you’d see Seonghwa again, and you’d probably be texting him at least once every few days, if not every day.

The world was not ending. This blissful period did, but it wasn’t the end of everything. You’d be back, you’d see Seonghwa again.

But the months between January 1st and Spring Break would be difficult after the month you’d just lived through.

It felt juvenile. You were a grown adult in college, working towards a degree to hopefully secure a good career and have a comfortable life. You had classes to worry about, not your boyfriend who’s double your age.

But he wouldn’t ever leave your head. You knew in your head that when you went back to class, he’d probably be there in the back of your head.

An effort in mental gymnastics is what these next few months would hold.

Wooyoung brought you back up to the house for your final goodbyes. Seonghwa was standing in the open doorway, dressed in a cream knitted sweater with black sweatpants. Normally, he was dressed up in some way, even if it was a pajama set. Today, he hadn’t bothered with fashion.

Wooyoung hugged him first, squeezed him so tight, he lifted Seonghwa off the floor. For the first time that morning, you smiled as they both laughed. The noise of surprise and protest Seonghwa let out just made Wooyoung hoist him up more, until all three of you were laughing.

“How could you put your poor eomma through such things?” Seonghwa asked in a perfectly dramatic voice as he made a show of fixing his hair and sweater.

“As if you’re any better,” Wooyoung teased. Seonghwa just smiled and kissed his head, to which Wooyoung reciprocated with a cheek kiss.

“Be safe, nae sarang.”

“I will, Eomma.”

They exchanged an “I love you” before Wooyoung walked away, and gave you a nod before he went to sit in the car to wait.

It was like a movie scene. The sun was setting, the snow was falling. The sunset colors illuminated your face as Seonghwa gave you a half hearted smile.

You wordlessly hugged him tightly, and he instantly returned the hug. You two stayed there in that hug, silently clinging onto each other like it would be the last time.

It wouldn’t be the last time. Far from it.

But you both found something that December. You found someone. And it was so special, you couldn’t bear to lose it.

As you pulled back to look up at him, the little voice was in your head again. Telling you that you were taking this too seriously, that you shouldn’t have been so upset, that this wasn’t a big deal.

The voice disappeared as Seonghwa pulled you into another loving kiss. The idea that this was a movie scene popped back into your head as he held your cheek and kept you close.

You could've sworn you heard your heart break when you both pulled away.

“Be safe,” Seonghwa softly said onto your lips. You nodded as you painstakingly pulled out of his arms.

“I will. You too.”

Seonghwa gave you another small smile. His eyes flicked down to the necklace that you still wore. You’d worn it every day since the night he gave it to you, and kept it in it’s case every night.

You smiled back before you forced yourself to walk back to Wooyoung’s car. Seonghwa watched from the doorway until Wooyoung’s car disappeared, and he could no longer hear it.

Wooyoung reached over the center console and held your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and squeezing. He didn’t need to say anything, no words needed to be said.

But as you were swallowing back the tightness in your throat and blinking back tears, the comfort felt good. The firm squeeze was what you needed, as you both were headed back to campus, unsure of where life was going to bring you both next.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

#ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez ff #ateez x reader #ateez seonghwa #park seonghwa #seonghwa #seonghwa fanfiction #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa fic #seonghwa ff #seonghwa x reader #best friend's mother

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batarella · 3 days

Text

Bruce's Bathtime - Batfamily Sitcom

Bruce's mistake was thinking he could have a peaceful night in the bath on his day off when his manor is full of kids who share one brain.

A/N: HELLO EVERYONE I LOVE YOU AND IM SORRY I DISAPPEARED BUT I WANTED TO WRITE SOMETHING SWEET FOR YOU TO ENJOY. THIS IS HEAVILY INSPIRED BY "BATH" BY SAM AND MICKEY ON YOUTUBE.

WORDS: 1.7K

WARNINGS: NONE. IT'S WHOLESOME AND SWEET.

MASTERLIST

——-

Crime rates were always at an all-time low in time for the Superbowl.

Which meant Batman gets a day off. Duke was the only one on patrol that night. Alfred spent half an hour convincing him not to spend the night at the cave.

“Master Bruce, the bath has been drawn and I’ve taken the liberty of using the expensive lavender bath salts so you would not like to waste it.”

“You’re right, Alfred. I’m a billionaire and I find the fifty-dollar lavender salts a waste to not use.”

“Just get in the bath, Master Wayne. Just thirty minutes of quiet shall do you good. I’ve set an alarm.”

Since when did Bruce start working for him?

He did as told anyway. Bruce closed the bathroom door and stripped off his clothes to get in the tub. There were so many callouses in his body, he barely felt just how burning the temperature was.

It was just a minute in there when the first knock woke him from drifting off.

“Bruce?”

What the hell is Dick doing out of Bludhaven? “What?”

“Is the music room haunted?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“I heard something inside.”

“Instruments tend to do that.”

“I did a headcount of everyone in the manor and everyone is accounted for except Duke who you sent out for patrol so I doubt it’s anyone but a ghost,” Dick said.

“Get out.”

“But I’m not even inside the bathroom.”

“Go away.”

“What if it’s not a ghost? What if it’s a spy?”

“The manor has more advanced security systems than the Pentagon, Dick.”

“That’s not a good point of comparison.”

Bruce closed his eyes and let the steam slow his rising blood pleasure.

“Just check the room. Could have been the wind.”

“I’m too scared.”

This man was almost thirty and was still giving Bruce the same amount of aneurysms as when he was eight.

“Ask Alfred to check for you.”

“Okay.”

He heard fading footsteps and let them lull him into sleep. He set his large arms onto the sides of the tub, sinking his mouth under the water.

“Father,” a voice said from out the door followed by three soft knocks by a small hand.

“What, Damian?”

“I need you to sign this letter from the school headmaster.”

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

He doubted that.

“It’s for a parent-teacher conference.”

Bruce let the silence answer for him until Damian gave in.

“Someone attacked me in class.”

“Damian-“

“Okay, I threw the first punch but he taunted me first about how I was small for my age but I said that I’m of perfect size for my age and that I’m simply too smart to be crowded into elementary school children when my intellect belongs to that of a senior and then he asked what I was doing here and not in 5th grade and I said what was he doing here and not in 5th grade and he spat at me and now his nose is broken and they want you to cover the medical bills.”

Christ.

“Maybe you don’t have to pay it. You can call them yourself. You’re Bruce Wayne. You can get away with anything.”

“I can, but you’re not Bruce Wayne, so you have to deal with it.”

“Can you just sign this, Father?”

“Fine.”

Damian walked in, fanning the steam off his face and covering his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see his own father naked, then handed him the letter to sign it.

“Make sure your handwriting is the same as when I forged it.”

His eyes could not have rolled further back into his skull.

The boy walked out, just two seconds before the next set of voices made him wish the gunman shot him in the head four decades ago and not just his parents.

“Bruce, could you tell Jason he’s not the only one who died and come back to life and that his robin costume doesn’t deserve to have to top display in the Batcave anymore especially since he’s here?” Tim said.

Jason’s voice was even more obnoxious. “I died first, asshole and no one else would have died if it weren’t for me so clearly, you should thank me. And my rebranding was better. You’re still technically a robin since, you know, it’s the other half of your name, so you don’t deserve to be memorialized.”

“You don’t deserve to be memorialized at all when you’re alive and not a memory. You’re not even the first robin.”

“You’re not the first anything.”

“I’m the first at a lot of things.”

“Replacement.”

“Glorified zombie.”

Bruce grabbed the cucumbers Alfred had laid out on the table next to him just so his eyes wouldn’t burst out in blood at how much he wanted to scream.

“Ask Alfred what to do,” Bruce said.

“Alfred is with Dick in the music room to look for ghosts. We need an answer now.”

“What do you even want me to do?”

“Tim threw my robin costume piled up with all their robin costumes when clearly, it should be in the display case,” Jason said. “And Tim wants to move my motorbike out of the cave.”

“You have so many motorbikes, would it hurt you to move just one?”

“No.”

“Bruce!”

Bruce counted to ten. “No.”

“No to what?”

“Everything.”

“You don’t even know what you’re saying no to.”

“I could not care any less.”

“Can we please come in?”

“No, I’m naked.”

“We’ve seen you naked.”

“Not on purpose.”

Jesus fucking Christ. “Fine. Fine. We’ll get glass cases for both of you and we’ll pretend it’s a shrine as if you’re still dead. Happy?”

“Not from dying but sure,” said Tim.

“What about the motorbikes?”

“Put it outside,” said Bruce.

“Are you sure? What if someone sees?”

“Do whatever. Throw out the T-Rex in the cave for all I care.”

“Also, I need access to the batcomputers,” Jason said.

“For what?”

“Everyone else has access except me.”

“That’s for a reason, Jason.”

“Pretty please.”

“Get out.”

It took another five minutes of the two yapping at the other side of the door before it finally quieted down.

Then his phone started ringing. Duke.

That was when his blood pressure really started to spike.

“Duke? Is everything alright? What’s wrong?” he said to the phone.

“Me?” said Duke. “Oh yeah everything’s great! Not much crime when everyone’s watching the halftime show.”

“Then why’d you call?”

“Can I use the batmobile?”

Fuck a duck. “For what?”

“The streets are empty and you said I could drive it when there isn’t traffic.”

He hung up and threw the phone into the water before Duke could say anything else.

He had five minutes of quiet this time. Then Steph was at the door. “Bruce!”

An aneurysm. One of these days, he might actually have one.

“What now?”

“Can I change rooms?”

“Why?”

“Dick said there’s a ghost in the music room and my room is like five feet away and I don’t think I can sleep there anymore.”

“You slept there last night and everything is fine.”

“Ghosts can be quiet, Bruce, it doesn’t mean they’re not there. And you’ve made a lot of enemies, so I won’t be surprised if anyone’s settled in to haunt you.”

You’d think he wasn’t in a house full of vigilantes who fight the city’s most dangerous criminals.

“I haven’t killed anyone, Stephanie. I keep all my enemies alive.”

“What if it’s not your enemy? They don’t have to hate you to haunt you. Can I please just change rooms?”

“Move wherever you want. I don’t care.”

“Can I move to the bedroom at the west wing?”

“That’s mine,” Bruce said.

“You have a bedroom? I thought you never slept.”

“Fine. Take it. Just get out.”

“Really?” Steph squealed. “The master bedroom. Sweet!”

It took less than five seconds before the next reason for his headache started pounding at the door.

“Bruce! Jason is trying to hack into the batcomputer!”

“I did not!”

“He did!”

“The World’s Greatest Detective is just mad I guessed his password on the second try.”

Bruce sank into the water, drowning their yapping until it had blurred out. He held his breath for seven minutes straight. He could die. That wouldn’t be the worst thing. Just when it was finally quiet, again, Bruce rose up and found Damian sitting on the toilet.

He continued to look unbothered even when he looked at Bruce straight in the eye.

“Do you mind?”

“I’d like to use this toilet.”

“There’s fifteen bathrooms in the manor, Damian.”

“I like this one.”

“I understand I have not spent as much time with you, but this is not what your tutors mean by father-son bonding.”

“Oh no, don’t worry. I don’t mean to bond with you. I just like this toilet.”

“Fine. Please. Take your time.”

He did take his time. Damian sat there for a whole five minutes and pulled out a book.

“I wasn’t being serious. Get out of here.”

“Relax, father. It’s your day off.”

Bruce eyelids fluttered closed and he refused to open them until his son left the bathroom.

The next knock made a blood vessel pop. “Bruce. It’s me Barb. So sorry to bother you but I found another group of conspiracy theorists on the TikTok who made a list of billionaires who have never been seen in the same room as Batman and you’re the front liner of that list. I know you told me to never engage with these things but it’s at fifty million views right now and they’re making edits of you as Batman.”

“Make more bot accounts and pin it on Elon.”

“On it,” said Barbara. “So sorry to have disturbed you!”

He’s going to have a talk with Alfred to block off the whole floor the next time he draws these baths.

“Bruce?” It was Cass. “I hope it’s alright if I take Steph’s room. I took the liberty of putting a speaker in the music room so Dick would tell everyone there was a ghost in the manor and Steph would move out.”

The alarm went off. His thirty minutes were up.

One of these days, Bruce might finally break his no-kill rule, and it won’t be for the Joker.

---

A/N: I MISSED ALL OF YOU ASSHOLES AND I HOPE THIS WON'T BE THE LAST

TAGLIST

@karurururu @trixie-bb @childofposeidonforlife @fantasticwizardnerd @iibonniee @queenoftodd @foenixphire @omgtheywereroommates98 @spooklies @nyja-ls @jason-todd-is-my-husband @pieanq @spookyfrances @tacticaldivine @bathroom-sand @vicomtess @willieoo @consultingkilljoywinchester @elsenthal @willowoo @massiveathletefanauthor @chemicalpapercuts @the-abyss-of-fandoms @pparkeramorr @pricetagofficial @traceymoyashi @seutarose @littleredwing89 @astrids-pandora @nomalu1 @knightfall05x @lovelyartemisa @fourteengemstones @acookiesnmilkuniverse @24-7-multifandomsimp @xemiefx @cherry-glade @ @lilith1717 @yujikuna @dwboutit17 @ouflater @satan-s-ass @indigowcrds @little-prying-pandora @butwhyduh @killersandmonkeys @kierdlt @illzarr @ramdomtails @probsjosh @angel-lover-alice @evalynanne @adazzlingsakura @offendedfishnoises @lupinslibraries @comic-cat83 @jason-todd-is-my-husband @estrela-rogers @jadesublime @tedii-bear00 @andieperrie18 @willieoo @insanebatty @queennightsetz @mkknrd22robinlover @she-sees-fire @quintessences0posts @spideypoolfeelz @batgalsblog @mello-d @https-101iamtheredhood101 @offendedfishnoises

#BATMAN #bruce wayne #batfamily #wayne family #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #duke thomas #barbara gordon #cassandra cain #stephanie brown

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hazbinfallinginaspiral · 2 days

Note

Hiya!

Love your works, 5 Stars!

Anyway I noticed you did a few Retro!Readers where they are in a Poly with both Vox and Valentino. I loved reading how protective Vox is to the point he'd rather Retro forget seeing him kill for them.

So my ask is in the Poly situation, what happens when Valentino is caught murdering someone who flirted with Retro by Retro? Unlike Vox he can't make Retro forget after all.

If you don't wanna do anything along those lines could you maybe do something else with the three of them, like Vox having to pick Retro up from the Porn Studio. (retro would be taking Val's backup glasses then get mad at what they see i bet)

Thanks!

“Don’t you dare insult mi pequeño querida ever again,” Valentino growled, looming over one of his workers. They were bloodied and bruised, beaten up, what little clothes they had been wearing were torn and frayed. “First you try to fuck them, then you’re making fun of their beautiful little ears? Asqueroso.”

I knocked hesitantly on the room he was in. “Valentino?” I asked, opening the door slightly. “Someone said you’d be in here, I don’t mean to interrupt, I just-”

He didn’t notice me. “Keep your desperate hands to yourself, bitch,” Valentino said to the worker, raising his hand to strike them again. “Or I’ll-”

“Val?” I asked, now standing in the middle of the doorway, the door ajar, light from the hallway spilling in. “What are you…?”

“Oh! Oh shit,” he said, snapping his attention towards me. “Fuck! You weren’t meant to- fuck, just look away for a moment, mi cariño.” He walked over and spun me around so I’d be facing away from the sight before me.

“Val! Hey, what are you doing?” I protested, trying to look back at the terrified worker. “Are they okay? Do they need help?”

“No! No, I was just teaching them a little lesson was all,” he said quickly, trying to steer me away from the room. “Clean yourself up,” he hissed to the worker, walking me out the door with me in tow. “Fuck. It’s normal, okay? They just needed to be put in their place. God, you weren’t- you weren’t supposed to see that.” He muttered under his breath, covering my eyes as he brought me to his office. “Vox was right, I shouldn’t have brought you here…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” I said quietly, nervously. “It’s fine, it’ll be fine.” I was still trying to process what I’d just seen. All I could register was that someone was hurt, he was worried, and that I wasn’t supposed to be there.

“No it’s not, mi amorosa,” he said quietly. He sat me down and paced nervously around the room. He picked up the phone several times, before setting it down. “Fuck.”

“Val, seriously,” I said softly. I stood up and took his hand in mine. “I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful… I don’t- I don’t know what you were-”

“That’s it!” Val said, snapping his fingers. He seemed to relax. He kept his hand in mine and brought me to his desk. “It’ll be okay, my love, I promise.”

“Promise? Promise what?” I asked, confused. He set me in his lap and held me carefully, gently. I watched as he took out a cigarette and I sighed, thinking he was just going to stress smoke again. “Val, you know I don’t have… I’ve not built up a tolerance to it like Vox or Vel, I’ll need to leave if you start.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” he said with a smile, lighting it up. “Trust me, darling.”

“But-” my protest was cut off as he kissed me. I relented and kissed him back. When he pulled away, I felt so much more… relaxed. “Hm…?”

“That’s right, just relax,” he purred. He took a long drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke directly in my face. I couldn’t help but breathe it in. Sickly sweet, like honey, utterly overwhelming.

“Mm..” I mumbled, my body relaxing completely. My mind was all hazy, I couldn’t think straight. It felt so nice, so good. I found myself leaning closer to him, wanting to get as much as possible every time he blew another cloud of smoke towards me. He held me tightly, firmly, so I wouldn’t fall. “I love you…”

He chuckled as I buried my head against his chest, wanting to be near him more than usual. “I love you too,” he said, petting my head gently. All the worry and confusion I’d been feeling seemed to melt away, and as the smoke kept coming, I couldn’t help but begin to feel tired. It felt so nice, so comfortable. So good to be near him, breathing it in.

As my eyes fell shut, Val smiled, excited. It had worked! I was fast asleep against him, drugged out of my mind. I wouldn’t remember a thing. He was so goddamn proud of himself. He scooped me up, whispering sweet nothings in my ear as he carried me outside.

Vox pulled up outside the porn studio to see Valentino holding me. I was limp in his arms like a ragdoll. Vox opened the door and stepped out, slamming the car door shut behind him as he approached. “What the fuck did you do?” He asked Val, his anger evident as he reached for me.

“Relax, I just used my smoke,” Val replied, rolling his eyes. He gave me to Vox, if not reluctantly. “I know you said not to use it, but-”

“Your smoke?” Vox asked, horrified. “Oh my god, they’re out cold! Fuck! How much did you- oh my god are they dead?”

“No! No, fuck- Christ, calm the fuck down, mi cariño,” Valentino said, now a tad annoyed. “They’re a sea bunny demon, they’ll be fine. Any harmful side effects or toxins or whatever are just stored in their system for later use. All my smoke did was make them nice and relaxed.”

“What?” Vox asked. He paused, looking down at me. He thought for a moment. “And you’re sure? They aren’t hurt or anything?”

“Not at all,” Val said with a grin, looking pleased with himself. “Though, I’d appreciate some back up next time. I’ll need you on speed dial if they catch me again. I hate doing this to them…”

“I know,” Vox said with a nod. He opened the car door for the passenger seat and motioned for Val to get in. He did, and Vox set me down next to him, buckling me in. Val made me lean against him, as if I was just sleeping comfortably. “I’ll be there next time.”

“The look on their face…” Val said, sounding guilty as he looked away. He seemed uncomfortable with what he’d done, with how vulnerable he’d made me so easily. “God…”

“I know, Val,” he said softly. He gave him a small kiss, then got in the drivers seat. He sighed and started the car. “I know.”

(Val was going to kill the worker, he was just taking it slow. Now Vox will get dibs on them, since he’s the one who owns Retros soul. He’ll argue that Val already had his chance and fucked it up, so it’s only reasonable that Vox gets a try. Also! Retro can get endlessly drunk but it’ll never have a negative or lasting impact on their health and liver and whatnot. At least that’s how I imagine it.)

#hazbin hotel #vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #writing #vox x reader #my writing #x reader #reader insert #valentino x vox x reader #valentino x reader x vox #vox x reader x valentino #vox x valentino x reader #hazbin valentino #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino x reader #sorry guys #no im not #thanks anon!

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toodelusionalforreality · 2 days

Text

Absolution

Azriel x Reader(N)

Summary: Two lovers separated out of necessity finally reunite, only for a brief tryst.

A/N: This is an experimental piece of work. I'm testing a writing style, so feedback is welcome. It's an extended universe for a plot I was working with details tbd but doesn't involve much plot here. So it should be an easy read. This is my first ever Tumblr publish and it's scary!! So be kind. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: ~4.5k

Warning: NSFW, 18+ SMUT, f!receiving, m!receiving(barely), sappy start+spicy middle+angsty end (i guess), voice kink, p in v. Mentions of OC other than reader[not enough editing/proofreading/formatting]

Azriel stepped into the room desperately holding on to the moment, afraid Crone Mother would change her mind. N sat on the balcony—like every evening, on the floor, her legs crossed, her hands clasped in her lap. The curtains came alive with the touch of a gentle breeze to guard her from him. Her sheer dress melded with her body under the radiance of the fading sun, her skin aglow as if made of stars and gold. Summer flowers adorned her hair, tucked into the braid that unravelled after the day’s practices.

His shadows peeked over his shoulders and swarmed his hands buzzing with excitement. With each silent step, he prayed he didn’t break her trance. He settled before her—bringing his knees to his chest, he rested his elbows on them, and his wings tucked tight to his body.

The hue of the setting sun made everything heavenly about her—soft, ethereal. Wisps of hair teasing her cheeks, the knowing smile on her lips, the slight flutter of her eyelids under his stare. A sigh escaped Azriel’s lips. It was a worthless attempt to hide his presence from her, the one who held the sight.

Azriel wasn’t a fool to waste the mercy bestowed upon him after months of longing to be close to his beloved. He stretched on the floor, his head finding its rightful place in her lap, and wrapped his arms around her waist. Her scent and warmth made their bond burn brighter and he sighed in contentment.

After long minutes, N rested her palm on his head. Her fingers carded through his hair, and her nails scratched his scalp the way he liked. A thumb teased the shell of his ear and his wings responded with a sudden tremor.

Azriel smiled. He buried his face into her thigh. Air shifted around them as her body answered to his touches and breaths. Despite the need clawing in his chest, he chose to wait a few minutes, to savour the comfort of her simple touch.

N broke the silence. ‘How was your day?’ Her voice was as sweet as ever.

‘Long. Excruciatingly long,’ sighed Azriel. ‘I started with your friends from the armoury today. Until your mother sent me to the gardens.’ He remembered the smile on the older woman’s face when she took him away from the others. A secretive, mischievous one. ‘She enjoys testing me a bit much. She made me tend to your roses.’

N laughed, the sound sending a shiver through him. ‘That must have been a vision. Maybe she’s exacting revenge for how you treated her back home.’

Azriel’s heart thudded in his chest. Home. No matter what Crone Mother said, N had one home. It was with him, in Night Court. ‘I think she’s forgotten all that. She’s more interested in stealing you from me.’ His arms tightened around her and his shadows whirled around them emphasising their master’s possessiveness, ‘But I don’t mind. As long as she lets me be with you for a while.’ His lips twitched. ‘Did you know everyone here addresses me as your mate?’

Another laugh broke through her lips, ‘They're not wrong.’

‘No, they are not.’ Azriel finally looked up. Her eyes were already on his face. ‘I’ve been called many names over centuries. Shadowsinger. Spymaster. But this one,’ he leaned up to her face, ‘I like the most. To be known as yours before they even know my name.’ He got to his knees and trailed a knuckle along her jaw. ‘I’d like that for the rest of my life.’ Their bond strummed a tune so loud that rendered him senseless. ‘I want to have a life with you. A home, a family. Anything you want, any way you want. As long as you want that too.’

‘You mean that.’ N stated as if she needed to reassure herself. She stared at him with a mask of impassivity on her face that almost rivalled his own as a spy. Then, she smiled. ‘But I’ll have you know there will be more tests from Crone Mother.’

'I’ll suffer anything for you,’ he murmured against her lips. ‘So that’s a yes?’ N nodded before her eyes sparkled with mirth. ‘What is it?’ His senses warned him, his shadows stood alert on his shoulders.

‘Well, technically, we’re married.’

Silence fell between them. Azriel’s fingers left her skin.

‘What?’

N shrugged. ‘Do you remember the first time we duelled?’ Her voice was steady but her hesitance broke through at the sight of the male who sat frozen in front of her. ‘You made me bleed. You proved you were my equal. And, it all happened after the bond snapped for you.’

Azriel remembered that day. He had wanted to impress her. It was the day he felt the warmth of her breath on him for the first time. For days and nights to come, he relived those moments until his skin prickled with heat.

N’s unsure laughter died soon when he didn’t even blink. His shadows retreated. His end of their bond quietened, alarming her.

Finally, he said, ‘All this time you were my wife?’

Her breath stuck to her throat. ‘According to our custom, yes.’

‘And you kept that a secret.’ His wings flared behind him to their full glory and his eyes narrowed. ‘What did we discuss about your secrets?’

N leaned back, ‘Was I supposed to tell you all this when I had your blade to your throat? I’m not sure you’d have been open to that conversation.’ Her voice reeked of confidence but Azriel saw the facade waning in her darkening eyes.

Memories flitted through his mind—visions of her from the instant he laid his eyes on her to the present. Every misfortune they endured, every second they spent in love, every. . .

He stalked her on his knees, his hands on either side of her. He hissed, ‘You slept with those males after that.’ A sound escaped his throat, a rumble deep from his chest. ‘My wife slept with other males to spite me.’

N stared at his lips and swallowed thickly. She hurried back, her hands slipping on the smooth marble under her. 'Azriel,' she whined wincing at the way her body welcomed her impending doom.

Azriel inhaled sharply. ’You like that? When I call you my wife?’ He chuckled darkly. His lips whispered against hers, ‘Of all the things you kept from me, this is the worst. You’re not getting out of this easy this time.’

N pleaded with her eyes. Her breaths shuddered. ‘They are watching.’

‘Then they’ll know my actions are justified.’

Azriel dove for his kill but before his hands grasped her, she faded away. Her airy laughter echoed in his ears. She stood in the middle of the room—her hands gently clutching her skirt to free her feet, her braid coming undone over her shoulder, teeth sinking into her plump lip—a vision of devilry and seduction.

His eyes flashed up to hers with a glint. His shadows who wanted vengeance of their own circled his shoulders and arms with a frenzy. N was in trouble and she knew it. She turned to run only to be met with his hard chest emerging from a dark mist.

‘Did you really think you could get away?’ He caressed her cheek, ‘There’s no escape from me. You should know that by now.’

N slid her arms around his neck. ‘Back then, we barely knew each other. I didn’t want to scare you.’ She looked into his eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’ She sent every ounce of sincerity in her being through their bond, still he kept his end cloaked.

Azriel pulled his arms away. Dark amusement shone in his eyes. ‘As if a silly apology is going to save you.’

N smoothed her palms over his chest. ‘I know.’ Her lips brushed against his skin, littering his face with soft pecks. ‘I know,’ she kissed the corner of his lips, moving closer and closer to the centre as she breathed the words, ‘I’ll make it up to you. For every secret.’

Even as N pressed her body into his, Azriel stood unmoved with a cruel smirk on his lips and his hands by his side. Her fingers wandered over his sculpted torso before unbuttoning his shirt. The shadows on his shoulders swayed, watching, waiting. The regal female who made others quiver with fear grovelled for his forgiveness, and his wretched heart grew giddy with power and pride.

Azriel itched to grab her waist and bite her lips until she bled for him again. A true victory in this duel. He closed his eyes in a wasted effort to tame his thoughts. At the first touch of her cool fingers on his bare chest, he almost gave in.

His eyes snapped open the moment N pulled her lips away. She dropped to her knees, her fingers dancing on his hips. Pressing a kiss below his navel, she inched her hands between his legs and fondled him with the heel of her palms. The warmth from her hands seeped through the cotton, which he was forced to wear upon their arrival, promising him the pleasure that awaited him.

In all the years with her, Azriel treated her lips as a relic–sacred and holy–a crown jewel in the trove that was her body. Something to be guarded, treasured, worshipped. He never had to take her mouth the way she offered to him to reach for the stars.

N smiled sweetly. The goddess who witnessed every vice and virtue under the sky knelt before him with love in her heart and devotion in her eyes.

Enchanted, Azriel watched her. His lips parted with a shaky breath. Their bond blazed with emotions he couldn’t name. At that moment, he knew there had never been nor ever will be a male more blessed than he was.

His scarred hand cradled her cheek tinged with a soft blush. She leaned in, closing her eyes, trapping his hand between her shoulder and face. She sighed. She kissed his wrist, his palm, his fingers.

Azriel couldn’t decide which was in more pain—his heart or his cock. Both, mere toys in her hands.

N grazed her lips against his clothed hardness and Azriel closed his eyes. His head fell back. A gasp escaped deep from his chest when her tongue soaked him through the fabric. He couldn't remember why he wanted to punish his sweet mate. He was close to breaking already and all she did was tease.

A sharp scrape of her teeth along his length had him bury his hand in her hair softer than the flowers that tumbled down her breast. He hissed in warning as his eyes held hers in a glare.

‘I want you to look at me,’ she smiled. That damned smile that masked her every cruelty.

Too much time had passed since they felt each other’s skin. Months, almost a year of not seeing each other, not holding each other. And there she was ready to worship him with her entire being if only for a night until their time ran out. Every move of hers had his heart wring in pain, the desire through the bond overwhelming and consuming his soul.

His shadows swooped down and pulled her to him. Azriel crashed his lips onto hers before her feet rested on the ground and stole every little breath from her chest. His shadows brought them to her bed, delicate and soft fit for a queen, like her.

He pried the cord that held her dress together below her breasts. His lips ventured south leaving a trail of red on her neck and chest while N rewarded him with her moans. Shadows, ever obedient, parted her dress to make way for their master’s hand to relish the smoothness of her skin. He caressed every inch of her body with his marred hands except where she ached for him the most. She pleaded and moaned, guiding his hand between her legs.

‘You shouldn’t have lied to me,’ he growled, letting his canines scratch her jaw. ‘You know how I feel about secrets, don’t you?’ A sob left her lips as the back of his fingers teased her entrance with the barest of touch. ‘Is this what you call making up? Crying and moaning until your husband fucks you?’

N froze. Her eyes stared into his with unspoken emotion that radiated clearly in their bond instead. ‘Azriel, please.’ His hand came down hard between her legs. She arched her back beautifully for him as a silent gasp escaped her lips.

Azriel memorised every pull of her muscles. ‘You should’ve known better.’ He slipped his fingers in and out, barely past her entrance, coaxing moans out of her. Her wetness had his mouth water. He undid his pants enough to ease himself out and thrusted into her in a single move.

They were perfect for each other—masochists at heart, denying themselves release until the day for their reunion drew closer and closer. N reached a hand out and clawed at his chest. Her eyes widened and soon glazed with pleasure. Her lungs ached for air. Her body begged to escape the feral male whose only intention was to devour her body and soul. Yet, she wrapped her legs around him.

Azriel waited panting, his heart losing its rhythm, shirt clinging to his back. N tugged him closer with her heels on his ass. He growled, baring his teeth. He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her to his chest. Her eyes fixated where his hips snapped against hers, where they were finally a whole. Each of her whimpers nudged him to quicken his pace.

He felt his release closing in. ‘Is this what you want?’ She looked up, mewling for him, her eyes burning with tears. Too soon. He pulled out of her weeping cunt and dove in with his tongue.

N cried out his name, sweeter than any melody she had ever sung for him. Her body slumped on the bed. She sought for leverage, her hands fisting the pillows. As she felt her fingers grasping at reality, shadows weaved around her wrist and pinned them above her head.

Azriel watched his mate’s body collapse and crash at his ministrations. He dug his fingers into her thighs tearing them open. Her bright eyes pinched shut before she met his crazed ones. With her chest glistening with sweat, her neck reddening, and her teeth sinking into her wet, swollen lips, she came.

Watching her body shiver with every lick of the evening breeze, Azriel rid himself of his clothes. He leaned down to kiss her lips, but she stared dazed. He laughed and nipped at the insides of her bicep, clearing the fog in her mind. Her arms flushed red as blood rushed back. Her fingers twitched and his shadows trickled along them. She came alive with whines when he slipped his fingers inside her.

Her desire came in waves through the bond. A groan rose from his chest, a guttural rumble. Even after his transgressions, she only wanted more, more of him. N clenched around his fingers at the sound. Azriel chuckled darkly into her ear. N curled into herself and clenched again. A renewed glint came to his eyes as he stared into hers.

‘She likes my voice, does she now? I always wondered. . .’ He lowered himself between her legs again, his second haven, the first being her embrace. A series of soft ‘please’ escaped her but the lust in her eyes told a different story, the bond sang a different tune. And he chose to heed its calling.

He wrapped a hand around her thigh and pushed the other aside with his shoulder. He didn’t want to miss this one. It was no new knowledge. He always had his suspicions, years of practice in observing the unobserved. But to finally see it with his own eyes, he was desperate to witness it. He wanted it to be true, he prayed for it to be true.

The room was filled with nothing but N’s silent pleas. Her wetness glistened in the last lights of dusk promising him an elixir crafted just for him. A fresh wave of arousal rolled over her body. Azriel hummed, breathing in the scent.

‘So pretty,’ he exhaled. His eyes took in every flutter that invited him back. ‘You like being praised, don’t you?’ N moaned fighting against the shadows that held her hostage. Azriel pulled her close by her hip and inhaled—loud and deep—his nose almost touching her.

‘Always wet for me, eager for me.’ His voice softened, his taunts dying as if his anger was meant for N and not her cunt, ‘I missed you so much. I can tell you missed me too,’ he pressed his lips to her thigh, his eyes unwavering, ‘by the way you wrapped around me, by the way you swallowed me.’ His cock throbbed at his own words.

He rasped, ‘Look at you, teasing me. Do you want a kiss?’ He flattened a hand on her abdomen, his fingers stroking deliberate patterns. ‘My tongue, my fingers? Hmm?’ Her hip jerked up for more and he pressed a kiss to the arch above her clit.

'Azriel, please. I want more.'

‘So wanton, so needy.’ A wisp of shadow licked her entrance once and N closed her eyes. Her hips moved in tandem as if she could materialise what she needed out of thin air. ‘So beautiful.’ Azriel grazed a thumb along the junction where her leg met her hip. N fell back with a groan.

‘You want me, don’t you? You never lie to me,’ another kiss to her thigh, ‘You can’t lie. Unlike N,’ his eyes finally caught her desperate ones. For a moment, he almost felt tyrannical to let the wicked smile pull at his lips. N threw her head back and circled her hips again.

‘That’s it, pretty. Show me how you’d fuck me. Show me how beautiful you are.’ His tongue trailed a line alongside his thumb, ‘Come for me.’

Her legs went taut around his shoulders. Her toes dug into his back next to where his wing emerged from. When her stomach sank in, Azriel shoved two fingers inside and held it there as she unravelled with a choked moan.

Pure, perverse pride filled his chest as his mate bucked and thrashed at the impact. Azriel was sick—sick at heart, sick in his desires. He never denied it. But it hardly felt a sickness with N trembling with his fingers inside.

Having lived through the horrors he did and committed unspeakable sins over his lifetime, Azriel knew there was no absolution for him. Nor that he cared. He already had his heaven, right there, in front of him, basking in the afterglow of pure pleasure.

He nuzzled his nose into her thigh to steal a little more warmth from her exhausted body. He brushed his cheek against her, closing his eyes, savouring the moment before his primal need destroyed the only person he loved the most. He hummed satisfied, pressing the lightest of kisses to her skin, his pathetic attempt to atone for the wicked he unleashed upon her. His heart should cower in shame and guilt, yet it swelled with love and hunger.

His name, whispered once, tore his attention from his perverted thoughts. He never cared for what he was called. But in her sweet voice, a sacred chant uttered in the confines of their chamber, he liked no word more than his own name. His shadows answered her call, smoothed over her sweat-covered body apologising for their master’s sadism, burning her skin with their delicate coolness. Some mercy, for they were no better than him.

Azriel brushed a thumb along her cheek gathering her tears away, a tender kiss placed in their stead. He smiled like a gentle lover. He parted her lips with his fingers soaked in her essence and slid them past her teeth.

With hooded eyes, N looked up at the male who sought the remnants of her soul clinging to her body and sucked on the tips. Her tongue rivalled the wetness between her legs. She was a true seductress.

Azriel lapped at his fingers and the lips sheathing them alike, tasting her whole at once, embracing the insanity he fought to stave off for so long. Even when he slipped his fingers out of her mouth, even when he pressed his body onto hers, even when he lined himself to her welcoming heat, he didn’t break the kiss like her lips were his only tether to reality.

N stilled beneath him. Another tear slipped from the corner of her beautiful eyes. Azriel was cruel, but he was capable of loving his mate right. He wrapped a hand around her shoulder and smoothed a palm over her hip. He inched in slowly into her pulsing cunt, ‘Give me one more, love. Just one. For me?’

His mate, ever merciful, nodded. The adoration that flowed through the golden string between their hearts reflected in her eyes. ‘Please,’ she said breathlessly, ‘please, Azriel. I want to touch you.’

The one whose dangerous hands slit throats of the most feral of males and females with grace asked to touch him so sweetly. How could he deny anything to her?

His shadows didn’t wait for his instructions. They released her arms and slid over to the skin their master left unattended, staking their claim on her body. Azriel reined them back only to lose control again. She made him jealous of his own shadows, ones meant to serve him, ones who forgot their place around her.

A long sigh pulled his focus back to her. Too exhausted to hold him like she always did, N ran her hands along his sides. ‘I missed you.’

‘I missed you too.’ Azriel lifted her thigh higher and wrapped it around his waist ripping a whine from her throat. He did miss her. He missed everything about her. Her raw devotion to him, her pure heart, her unconditional love.

As he moved deeper and deeper still, he felt it. The echo of a song he knew too well, one of love and longing that kept them connected through the times of separation. Beyond the familiarity of its thrum, he recognised something else.

Like catching a flicker of light after being lost in the dark for long. Like the first time he gained control of the darkness he was born with. Like the first time he tasted his freedom. In her arms, everything made sense. His breaths strained.

Tears flowed freely from her eyes. ‘I missed you,’ There was a tremor in her voice. Azriel soothed her with his own declarations but she shook her head, ‘Don’t make me leave you again. Please, I can’t live like this anymore. I can’t, not without you.’

Azriel always believed he loved her more than she could love him in her lifetime. His petty display of jealousy and temper, a proof of his love. What an arrogant fool. His heart ached for failing to truly see his beloved’s feelings for him, how deep it ran in her veins, how it destroyed her while it breathed life into him.

He pulled her close, enveloping her in his comfort, and his wings draped around them.

‘Promise me, Azriel.’ She closed her eyes, ‘Please.’

‘I’m here now,’ he caressed her cheek. He left kisses on her forehead, eyes, cheeks, and finally on her lips. ‘I’m here. I’m with you, love. I’m here.’ And at those words, N let go one last time leading him to his release.

Azriel left his shaking mate in the bed with a kiss when he came back to his senses to draw a bath. He stood by the door of her bathroom and watched his shadows tickle the skin below her ear. A light chuckle escaped her lips as more chased her hand. It was a sight he was used to and missed dearly.

N smiled at him as he carried her in his arms. Her body shivered at the first touch as Azriel lowered her into the tub. She tugged at his wrist, and he joined in. She leaned her back into his chest and closed her eyes. The water washed her exhaustion away while his hands massaged her tender flesh. Her eyes struggled to stay open and she sank deeper against him. As he dried her tenderly after, she watched him with an easy smile.

Azriel carried her out to the bedroom and paused. Fresh sheets lined her bed. Sweet fragrance of jasmine lingered in the air. Lit candles stood on windows and her desk. Moonlight streamed past the drawn curtains. His shadows failed to notice, too lost in her as he was.

‘I told you they were watching,’ N said, her voice quiet and tired.

He eased her into the bed and pulled a blanket over her legs. He traced the marks of red on her stomach and between her breasts, marring her pristine skin—still a masterpiece—complete, perfect. ‘Do you think they’ll let me near you again after seeing what I’ve done?’ He couldn’t stop the smile that cruelly tugged at his mouth.

N groaned, throwing a hand over her eyes. ‘I’m pretty sure Mother Aarzu is already dissecting how you wrecked me for her next seduction lesson.’

‘Well then,’ Azriel laid beside her and pulled her to his chest, ‘I’m willing to contribute more to these lessons. They sound very necessary.’

She glared from behind her hand. ‘Mock all you want but your brothers are worse. I bet Rhysand was listening to your thoughts the whole time. And they are already planning on ways to taunt you.’

Azriel lifted a brow. He opened his mouth to defend his ability to guard his thoughts when his brother’s laughter echoed in his mind. ‘Your shields are pathetic when she’s around. They went down the moment her lips were on you.’ N flinched in his arms and he knew his brother invaded her mind as well for his next words, ‘Thanks for the show. Quite an. . .inspiration.’

N scoffed, ‘I don’t know why we do it behind closed doors.’ Her words had his mind conjure ideas already. A frown appeared between her brows. She looked at him sharply when she felt a hardness pressing into her hip, ‘We’re not doing that.’

Azriel laughed aloud. Something he hadn’t done in a while after he sent his mate away. ‘Anything my wife wants,’ he teased. He cradled her face against his chest and kissed her eye. ‘Anything you want.’

#azriel #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader smut #azriel x reader angst #azriel angst #azriel smut #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar smut #acotar x reader #acotar x reader smut #azriel x y/n

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sciderman · 22 hours

Note

ARE WE AFFIRMING YOUR GENDER?! IS THAT WHAT WE’RE DOING?!

Sci, first of all, I’m so sorry your dad said that listing your pronouns is embarrassing. It’s 2024. What’s embarrassing is being a parent who cares more about what other people think of them than what their child thinks of them. People don’t have to understand you, they don’t even have to agree with you, but if someone says they love you, the least they can do is make the attempt to show you they respect your identity as an individual person. I know this is particularly difficult for parents sometimes but it’s not impossible. I sincerely hope that someday your dad realizes how spectacular you are and how lucky he is to have the opportunity of knowing and loving someone as truly kind, funny, and generous as you are.

Second of all, LET’S GIVE ANOTHER SHOUT OUT TO THOSE PRONOUNS. Oooo I like the way you wear he/him. It’s loud, it’s rebellious, it’s confident, it’s authentic! It’s everything those angry white boys with podcasts WISH they were! You are entering your “boys will be boys” era and it’s covered in bright colors, zany patterns, sequins, and ATTITUDE.

I am so fucking proud of you for taking this big scary step into being your true self and laying it bare before the world. Just last night I was thinking about how one of the reasons I was so miserable in my 20s was because when I was around 21/22 I went back into the closet to make myself “more palatable” for the people around me. Less confusing for them. Less work for them. And I’ll never actually know what experiences I lost when I lost myself. I’ll never know what I could have done, the opportunities and stories and memories I missed out on because I was only living as half a person. I’m back on track now though, and the good news for you is: now that you’ve taken this step you never have to ask that question again.

I’ve gotta say, Sci, announcing your true pronouns is definitely one of the sexiest things you could ever do. And Wade agrees. <3

hooougghh bless you @nobutforrealthough - you're so cool and sexy and ough...

i feel so very exhausted in the head lately about identity things. i think a lot of people thought i was some kind of gender icon when really i'm just piecing things together as best as i can. i feel a little exhausted that people thought so much of me and i'm not delivering on it. (but i've felt that way all the time, all my life, from pretty much everybody.)

i guess it's difficult to do all this alone, without anyone in your corner. i think writing wade and peter, they sort of felt like friends to help me through it, because i don't really have anyone else out there to help me through and speak to me on my level. so – i kind of had to invent voices to give me courage. and it helps. but i worry that it's a little sad, too. sorry. i'm feeling very frank and bare this morning.

it's a lonely old world when you still haven't figured out where you fit in it. and maybe you're not meant to fit. but you kind of do need to fit, for your sanity. for your survival. so you contort and compromise and squeeze yourself into weird shapes and bug your head. and it's all so, so exhausting for me. and i think my body's finally telling me it's time to retire. my body is so, so tired...

#sci speaks #i want to be loved for me.#not for who i can pretend to be.#not for what i can “pull off”.#i want sad little lazy tired me to be treasured too. for being weak. for being lazy. for just wanting to sit around in my undies and cry.#tired of having to be a hero . for having to be an example . for having to put on a good show #ohhgh i'm so tired...#i love sad little lazy me. i love when i love sad little lazy me. sad little lazy me deserves to be loved #just as much as restless gender icon me #sighs. i wish you guys really Knew me. not just all of this text on the internet.

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inadaydream99 · 2 days

Text

Rejected Kisses

Enhypen x reader, fluff, the slightest angst (but not really)

A/N - Hello hello! This intended to be some short drabbles but - as always - I ended up getting carried away!

Disclaimer: this does not represent any of the members in real life and is for entertainment purposes only. Use of cringy pet names and cliche scenarios. Anything I’ve missed, please let me know!

Heeseung

Heeseung knows exactly what he’s doing when he looks at you like that. With those big shining doe eyes of his guilt tripping you. He’s never failed to get his own way when he does this. It’s his best tactic in getting you to cave into what he wants. So the second he’d approached you, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind in a sneak attack, his body craning around so his already puckered lips could steal a kiss from the corner of your mouth and you’d wriggled away, his eyes had gone wide and glossy and ready to make you feel bad for what you’d done.

You turned to face your boyfriend, biting down on your bottom lip to suppress the smirk that wanted to break out across those oh-so irresistible lips of yours. You aren’t prepared to give into him so easily when you need to leave for work so soon.

“Baby, I just wanted one quick little kiss…”

Heeseung thinks he’s winning when you don’t immediately respond. He’s sure he can see the cogs in your head turning as you try to come up with a way to avoid giving him what he wants.

“But Hee, I’m already going to be late as it is.” You take a step back as he takes one step closer, helpless as he continues to stare you down with those deep, mesmerising eyes of his. “And with you it’s never just one quick little kiss.”

There’s a few seconds of outstretched silence before Heeseung lets out a deflated sigh, his gaze dropping to where your feet are pressed toe-to-toe.

“You’re right.”

You gulp. Damn it. You may have been able to dodge his doe-eyed look, but there’s no way on Earth you are able to leave him looking so defeated and kiss-less like this.

So, set upon letting your boyfriend have his way, you tuck your finger under his chin and close the space between you until your lips ghost. Smiling into him as you watch the successful smirk finally break out across his lips, before delving in without hesitation. You guess being late isn’t the worst thing in the world anyway.

Jay

Do you think he cares? Pft. No way… or at least Jay is certainly trying to convince himself of that.

Except he does. He really really does care that you just walked away from him like that. And with his lips still puckered no less.

“Daggers at 6 o’clock (Y/N). What did you do?” Jungwon nudges you with his elbow as you stand beside him, packing away some of Jay’s things after the end of the group’s practice.

Upon Jungwon’s words, your head raises to look in the mirror, your gaze instantly falling on Jay in the background sending you daggers exactly as you had been told. And despite being informed beforehand, his gaze still manages to send a shiver down your spine.

“Oh Jay’s just goofing.” You try to sound unaffected, snatching your stare away to refocus on tidying the last few items away.

The other members had already up and left by the time you’d slung Jay’s bag over your shoulder and grabbed the last few empty water bottles to put into the trash. Everyone except said owner of the bag you’re carrying.

“Shall we try again?” You almost jump out of your skin from the sudden proximity, your mouth gaping as you take in the way Jay leans up against the door of the practice room. The only door of the practice room. “C’mon (Y/N), there’s no one around anymore. We don’t need to worry about being caught.”

He’s got you there, knowing fully well that you really don’t like PDA. That’s the only reason you’d ever reject his affection the way you did.

“I’m even blocking the door.” And you can’t help but to mirror his smile at that, finally letting your tense shoulders drop as Jay reaches out and pulls your body flush against his.

“I love you.” You whisper-giggle.

“And I love you more.”

Jake

It’s been so long since you’ve tested the patience of your boyfriend that you’d forgotten just how much stamina he has. Running away never has served you very well against Jake because he could out run you in his sleep. But that doesn’t mean you still didn’t try.

“I promise I’m not mad, my love.” You try to quieten your heavy breaths to keep yourself hidden from Jake. “I know you didn’t really mean to reject my kisses… right baby?”

The way he speaks so softly, condescendingly and ever so dangerously leaves you in a hot flush, biting down on your bottom lip and squeezing your eyes shut as you hear him creep slowly closer to the first empty room in his apartment you found and chose to take refuge in. Judging by the soft plushies on the singular bed, you assume it must be Sunoo’s room.

Before you have time to register what’s happening, Jake has easily overpowered your weight leaning on Sunoo’s bedroom door and chased after you as you let out a squeal and dashed to the opposite end of the room.

Caging you between the wall and his lean arms, you’ve got no shot of another escape. Surrendering is all you have left.

“Jakey.” Your voice is weak, but you still continue to try to get him to let his guard down. Raising your hand to caress his cheek, you smooth the pad of your thumb lightly over his soft skin. “I was only messing about when I dodged your kiss. Of course you know that and you’ll let me off because you love me, right?” You give your best pleading smile, finding it harder to hide how his towering stature and devilish grin affect you.

“Y’know, I told you I wasn’t mad.” Jake begins in a whisper, leaning down so his soft words pepper the sensitive skin of your neck. He smirks watching you shiver. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to get revenge.”

You breath hitches as Jake’s palms move to hold your waist, squeezing you firmly in his hold as he manoeuvres you away from the wall. You feel the edge of the bed on the back of your legs, allowing Jake to push you down until you’re laying beneath him.

He hovers over you with a taunting smirk, watching the way you watch him. You look so timid. Waiting so willingly for him to make the next move. And so he does.

Without a glimpse of hesitation, your lips connect with his. Melting into his every capture and recapture of his velvet soft lips. And that’s where you stay… at least until Sunoo returns, judging and complaining until you leave.

Sunghoon

He’s strong-willed and stubborn. He will get his own way. You will give him a kiss. Even if that means he has to reverse psychology you into it. Sunghoon is willing to work for your affection. Better yet, he’ll work so hard you’ll want to give him a kiss even more than he wants to kiss you.

You hadn’t realised that your boyfriend had noticed the fact you’d deliberately dodged his attempted kiss that morning. No, Sunghoon had played it off so well that you honestly thought he just didn’t care. And that bothered you all day.

Why didn’t he make a comment? You didn’t even get a grumble, or a huff. Nothing. No reaction what so ever. Does he not really want to kiss you? Does he just feel the obligation because of his boyfriend title? Does he still care about you?

That can’t be it. You absolutely refuse. And so, to dissipate your overworking mind, you decide that as soon as you get back from your busy day of errands, you’re going to prove yourself wrong… or right? Ugh. Whichever means that your boyfriend is still into you.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, can’t believe it actually worked. His reaction-less reaction had actually gotten into your head so much you’d been fawning all over him the whole evening. He’d not been able to get away from your hugs or kisses or touches for more than half a minute max. And he was absolutely loving it, he just wasn’t giving you any indication about it.

In fact, Sunghoon had shut himself in the bathroom for the last few minutes just to try to cool himself down a bit. He was starting to get so hot and bothered by your ever-increasing ministrations. And he is by no means ready to give up his little facade yet. Not when he’s having so much fun.

“Seriously bro, you’ve got to try this out. It’s on another level.” Sunghoon chuckles down the phone to Jake, who he’s been relaying his whole plan to - his ego only boosting with each sound of approval from his friend.

“Hoonie~” he hears you call from the opposite side of the door, excitement bubbling up inside of him as he whispers a “gotta go” to Jake before hanging up and sliding his phone back into the pocket of his jeans.

“Yes ba-” he’s rendered speechless when he opens the bathroom door to find you on your bed, snuggled under the covers. “What are you doing?” He chuckles in amusement. You look so adorable. So small. So snug. So so kissable.

“I’m tired baby. So I thought we could make out here instead?”

Sod it. He can’t resist you any longer. So Sunghoon wastes no more time in slipping into bed beside you, pulling you into his embrace and kissing you like there’s no tomorrow.

Sunoo

You hadn’t intended to reject Sunoo’s kiss last night. It’s just that you’d had such a long day and you were so tired that you were practically asleep the second your head hit the pillow and long gone by the time your boyfriend had finished brushing his teeth and gotten into bed beside you. Meaning that Sunoo never got his goodnight kiss.

He knows it’s petty and that you were just exhausted. But without his goodnights kiss, Sunoo was unable to fall asleep. Which meant that he spent most of the night wriggling around in bed because he couldn’t get comfy. Because he couldn’t relax. Because he never got his kiss.

In a bad mood way before the sun rose, Sunoo got out of bed with every intention of just getting his day over and done with. There was no skip in his step or smile on his face. There was no “good morning pretty” or his usual request for a good luck kiss every 10 seconds. No. Sunoo was dressed and gone for schedules before you’d even awoke. And he didn’t even leave a cute little note telling you to have the most amazing day like he usually would have done.

While you were concerned, you brushed it off as him just being in such a hurry that it must have slipped his mind. Not even realising anything could be off until the evening arrived and your precious, beloved sunshine returned to you in a grump.

“How was your day sweetie?” Your attempt to give him a back hug is swatted away as he trudges into the bedroom and flops himself face down onto the bed.

Ah paradise at last. Soft, pillowy bed sheets and silence. Until you come trailing behind him with a million questions about his attitude and if everything is ok? Sunoo knows he’s being irrationally unfair towards you, but no, everything is not ok. Because he got no sleep, because he got no kiss from you.

You’re speechless upon the onslaught of hurtful words that tumble from his mouth. How could he take it all out on you like that? You didn’t intentionally forget to kiss him before bed. And, regardless of you being asleep, he should have woken you for a kiss. You never would have pushed him away. You’d give him a kiss every second of every day for the rest of your life if it were possible. That’s how much you love him. But clearly the sentiment is not returned…

“I think I should go…” your hoarse voice whispers through the pain that is your broken heart, speaking to Sunoo’s back as he continues to lay face down on the bed you shared. He flips over the second he hears your words.

“Where? You live here.” His tone is void of emotion; his version of anger. Sunoo doesn’t shout or rage when he’s mad. Instead he goes void.

“Does it matter?” You shrug, trying to keep the tears from falling. But then you begin to tremble and turn your back to him.

Finally reality hits Sunoo like a ton of bricks. How has he let himself get into this mess? More importantly, how had he allowed himself to treat you the way he has? No amount of tiredness can excuse that. Ever.

“I’m so sorry baby.” You feel Sunoo’s hands hold your waist before turning you around and pulling you into his chest. He clutches onto you as though he’d lose you forever if he lets go. You blubber into him. “You’re the best thing in my life. Please don’t leave me.”

You pull your face away just enough to peek up at him, immediately meeting his remorseful gaze and seeing that he really does feel terrible. You’re not quite up to speaking yet, but you want to start putting this behind you so you can both go back to being loved-up like you usually are. So you move your arms to behind his neck and raise onto your tippy-toes before pressing a loving kiss to his lips.

Jungwon

Your boyfriend is just too cute to say no to. Most of the time, at least…

“No no no no NO!” He shouts, dropping the controller to exasperatedly flail his hands in the air instead.

“Jungwon. Stop shouting.” You glair at him from where you try to read. But you should have known that paying him a visit when he told you that he had made plans to play games with Heeseung and Niki was a bad idea. I don’t mind, I’ll just enjoy your company. Oh how wrong you were. Between Jungwon shouting at the screen and losing another round to Heeseung, you’d not had a single moment of peace since you’d arrived.

“Sorry baby!” He shouts without realising, continuing his game as though nothings amiss. You simply roll your eyes at him before marking the page of your book and standing. Once you have reached your competitive boyfriend you tap him on the shoulder.

“Niki you little shi-” Jungwon’s explosion falls short when he turns to face you. You look pissed. “Everything ok baby?” He plasters on his best smile, hoping it’s enough to pacify you.

“No. It’s not.” This wipes the smile right off his face, instead replacing it with something more akin to fear. “I’m going home.” You state, not giving your boyfriend a chance to rectify your annoyance. Jungwon is so speechless he doesn’t even give a reaction to Niki’s teasing “Sounds like there’s trouble in paradise…”

The next day Jungwon won’t stop pleading and pestering you.

“Baby please come over tonight. I promise I won’t shout, I’ll use my indoor voice only.” Jungwon chases after you as you continue to walk away from him. So it’s clear you’re still miffed from the night before, you’ve not even given Jungwon a single kiss all day.

“Just tell me what I need to do to make things right again.” You’re halted by his hand on your shoulder, allowing him to turn you so you face each other. It’s not exactly like he’s done anything wrong, he did warn you that he would be playing games with his friends and you did say you didn’t mind. You suppose you’re just annoyed because you were unable to relax or read more than a few pages of your book.

With the way he looks so sorry, you feel yourself deflate.

“No Wonnie…” you sigh, “…you did nothing wrong. I just wanted to spend time with you and I was being petty about it.”

His smile melts your heart as he lets out a relieved chuckle.

“I’m sorry for not prioritising you, or for listening to you.” Jungwon whispers as he closes the space between you until you’re impossibly close. You watch as he bites onto his bottom lip while he assess if you would resist one of his kisses. And when he realises that you’re waiting for him to just make the move already, he wastes no more time and closes the space between you completely, savouring every part of you.

Niki

It wasn’t so long ago that you and Niki were just friends. So it’s understandable that you’re both still working out how to cross the line between just friends and something more.

You’ve got hand holding down. In fact, it feels so natural it feels wrong to be waking anywhere with Niki and not be holding his hand. And cuddling was never an issue because you’ve always had quite a cuddly friendship. But kissing is a whole new ball-park of affection.

It’s not that you don’t want to kiss Niki. In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever wanted to kiss anyone more. It’s just… it’s a little daunting for you to kiss the guy you’ve been friends with for so long. The very same guy you’ve always daydreamed of kissing.

You’ve been so in your head about it that you’ve been freaking yourself out. To the point where Niki actually tried to kiss you after dinner a few nights ago and you panicked and swerved into a hug instead. How awkward…

Thankfully he’d found it adorable how nervous you were and chuckled into the hug. He’d even teased you the next day about it, telling you that he won’t try to kiss you again unless you kiss him first. Except, now you’re putting more pressure on yourself. What do you mean you have to be the one to initiate the kiss?!

Another 24 hours later and another date comes drawing to an end. This time, you find yourself in the passenger side of Niki’s car, stopped in front of your apartment building. It’s clear neither of you want for the night to end just yet, your hands still intertwined across the middle console that separates your seat from his.

“What’s on your mind pretty?” His voice is soft, lowly questioning you with that signature smirk of his. The way his eyes run up and down your face, sultrily drinking you in shadowed by the darkness of the car. The streetlight just outside casting his features in an insurmountably gorgeous way. It has your brain melting. And you know this is the moment. You’re ready and you can’t resist him anymore.

Niki remains unmoving as you slowly lean towards him, accepting your hand that cups his cheek and coerces him to draw closer until your noses brush. The next thing you know, your lips find his and your eyes have fluttered shut.

You can feel his smile outstretch as he almost immediately kiss you back, allowing him to take over and deepen the kiss. You’re so lost in how right it feels that you don’t realise you’ve been manoeuvred onto his lap until Niki pulls back for some air. Your eyes finally opening to find him already watching you, so loved up.

There’s no words that need to be exchanged between you to know the feeling is mutual. So you dive right back in instead, newly obsessed with the caress of his lips on yours.

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kjack89 · 2 days

Text

Dial Drunk

5 times Enjolras bailed Grantaire out of jail, and one time, well...

The door of the holding cell clanked open and as one, the nine men sitting inside glanced up. “Alright,” the booking officer said in a bored tone, glancing down at his clipboard. “Bail’s been posted for arrestees Bahorel, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Enjolras, Feuilly, Joly, Lesgle and Prouvaire. You’re free to leave after you sign out at the front desk.”

There were a few grumbles as the men started to get to their feet, but Enjolras remained resolutely seated, his brow furrowed with a frown. “What about Grantaire?”

The man in question chuckled darkly, tilting his head back to rest it against the wall of the holding cell. “Is that actual concern for me that I hear, Apollo? I could die happy.”

Enjolras ignored him. “Pontmercy was supposed to post bail for all of us,” he said instead, aiming his words at Courfeyrac as if the man was somehow still responsible for the actions of his former roommate some five years after they had stopped living together.

Courfeyrac just shrugged. “Don’t look at me,” he said. “I mean, we all know Marius is a bit of an idiot, maybe he miscounted.”

Combeferre shook his head. “I’m probably wrong and should defer to the lawyers amongst us but I thought I remembered reading something in one of the articles about reforming pre-trial detention that an individual can only post bail for 8 detainees at a time.”

“And so I must’ve drawn the short straw,” Grantaire sighed. “Story of my fucking life.”

Bossuet clapped him sympathetically on the shoulder. “On the other hand, you could take it as a compliment that Marius thinks you’re the one most likely to survive an extended stay behind bars.”

Bahorel snorted so loudly the bars of the cell almost rattled. “Sorry but literally not a single one of us would survive an extended stay behind bars.”

“Speak for yourself,” Feuilly said. “I know how to whittle.” At the blank looks he received, he huffed a sigh and added, “So I can make a shank. No wonder none of you would survive in jail.”

“This is making our goal of prison abolition seem oddly self-serving,” Joly murmured in an undertone to Jehan, who stifled a laugh.

Combeferre cleared his throat. “Not that I’m not sympathetic to Grantaire having to be stuck in here, but I’d just like to remind everyone that since Marius posted bail, we’re technically now here voluntarily.”

“Yeah so GTFO,” Grantaire said with a grimace masquerading as a smile. “Let me rot in peace, etcetera.”

Enjolras looked like he wanted to argue more, but Combeferre muttered something in his ear and he made a face before filing out of the cell. “Serious miscalculation on Marius’s part with this one,” Courfeyrac said brightly as he followed everyone else out. “Because God knows you’re going to complain about this for the rest of all time.”

Grantaire gave him the finger and Courfeyrac winked as the officer closed the cell door behind him.

Sighing again, Grantaire sat upright, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck before settling back against the bench. “You need anything?” the booking officer asked.

Grantaire shook his head. “Nah,” he said dismissively. “Not my first rodeo. Hopefully I won’t be stuck overnight, but I’ve slept in worse places.”

“Oh, yeah?” the officer said with mild interest.

Grantaire nodded. “Central booking at the 16th Precinct is a piece of shit,” he said brightly.

The officer barked a laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He gave Grantaire a long look. “Should I ask what you were picked up for previously?”

Considering the answer to that question was a vast litany of misdemeanors (and felonies reduced to misdemeanors) that the boys in blue tended not to appreciate, Grantaire hesitated. Thankfully, he was saved from having to answer at all by the crackle of the officer’s walkie-talkie. “Just a moment,” the officer told him, heading out of the booking area and Grantaire let out a sigh of relief as he slumped on the bench.

“You’re free to go,” the officer said upon returning, and Grantaire looked up, surprised.

“Really?”

The officer nodded, opening the door to the holding cell. “Bail was posted. So I guess you’ll have to save your rap sheet for the next time you’re in here.”

Grantaire snorted a laugh. “I’d say there won’t be a next time, but…”

He ducked out before the officer could respond to that, making his way to the front desk, stopping in his tracks when he saw Enjolras leaning against the desk, clearly waiting for him. “What’re you doing here?”

Enjolras straightened. “It didn’t feel right leaving you in there,” he said with a shrug that didn’t quite come across as nonchalant as he’d probably intended. “And I happened to have some cash on me, so…”

“Between this and being worried about my welfare, you’re gonna give me the wrong impression,” Grantaire said.

“Guess that depends on what impression you’re getting,” Enjolras said, and Grantaire’s eyes flickered to his and away again, feeling suddenly tongue-tied. Enjolras cleared his throat, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Anyway, we should get to the Musain to debrief.” He glanced at Grantaire. “Unless you’ve got something better to do.”

Grantaire just shook his head, and gestured for Enjolras to lead the way. “After you,” he said, his voice low, and together they walked out of the precinct, their arms just brushing against each other as they headed to meet their friends at the Musain.

— — — — —

“Jesus Christ,” Enjolras muttered as the booking officer removed the handcuffs from a sheepish-looking Grantaire. Well, as sheepish as a man sporting the beginnings of a pretty impressive black eye could look, anyway. “Here,” Enjolras said roughly, holding an ice pack out to Grantaire. “I posted your bail as well.”

“Thanks,” Grantaire muttered, taking the ice pack and wincing as he pressed it against his eye.

Enjolras pursed his lips as he gave him a once-over. “Any other injuries I need to worry about?” he asked.

Grantaire just shrugged. “Nothing that won’t heal on its own.”

“Because that’s reassuring,” Enjolras sighed, rubbing his forehead, but when he looked at Grantaire again, there was something almost soft in his expression. “You didn’t need to do that.”

What he could see of Grantaire’s expression tightened, just slightly. “You didn’t hear what that guy called you.”

He said it calmly, evenly, but his hand automatically balled into a fist at the memory. Enjolras reached out automatically to rest his hand on Grantaire’s fist until it relaxed. “It doesn’t matter what he called me,” he said, his voice low. “I can take care of myself.”

“Of course you can,” Grantaire scoffed. “But that doesn’t mean you should have to.”

Enjolras just shook his head, running his thumb across Grantaire’s bruised knuckles, a testament to the fact that despite the black eye, he’d emerged from the fight victorious. “I should’ve brought another ice pack,” he murmured.

Grantaire just half-smiled, twisting his hand so that he could lace his fingers with Enjolras’s. “It’s fine,” he said softly. “It doesn’t really hurt at the moment anyway.”

Enjolras cleared his throat and looked away, but he didn’t try to untangle his fingers from Grantaire’s. “Well,” he said, “we should, uh, get out of here.”

“Before they realize you have about a half dozen outstanding warrants for your arrest?” Grantaire asked with a smirk, his voice quiet enough that only Enjolras could hear.

“You’d be amazed what having a multi-million dollar settlement pending against the city will do to the police’s willingness to bring you in,” Enjolras said with a smirk. “Not that I want to test that, of course.”

“Liar,” Grantaire said, grinning. “But better safe than sorry, I suppose.”

He started toward the door, pausing when Enjolras didn’t immediately follow. “Thank you, by the way,” Enjolras said, and Grantaire glanced back at him.

“Anytime,” he said simply. “Thanks for bailing me out.”

Enjolras gave him a look that was half-amused, half-exasperated. “Just don’t go making a habit of it,” he warned. “One day I won’t be here to bail you out.”

“Only because you’ll probably be locked up with me,” Grantaire said.

“Well,” Enjolras murmured, not quite able to stop his smile, “you’re not wrong.”

— — — — —

Grantaire rested his elbows against the bars of the holding cell, his arms dangling into what was technically freedom on the other side. The booking officer, some new guy he didn’t recognize, gave him a look but didn’t say anything, which he took as a small victory, and he allowed himself a small smirk.

A smirk that faded as soon as he saw Enjolras, escorted by another officer. “No dice on bail?” Grantaire asked, seeing the look on Enjolras’s face.

Enjolras shook his head. “No, they’re going to go through the whole arraignment rigamarole. I’ve already let Pontmercy know.” He made a face, casting an irritated look at the booking officer who was pretending not to listen to their conversation. “Apparently they take battery of a police officer pretty seriously these days.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Grantaire muttered. Enjolras sighed and Grantaire gave him a look. “Don’t even start,” he warned. “This wasn’t about you not being able to take care of yourself—”

“That wasn’t what I was going to say,” Enjolras interrupted, his voice tight. “I’m well aware that cop would’ve bashed my head in if you hadn’t intervened.” He shook his head and sighed again. “I was going to say thank you.”

“Oh,” Grantaire said, managing a tight smile. “You’re welcome.”

Enjolras just shook his head again. “You still shouldn’t have done it,” he continued, “because honestly, I’m not worth all that—”

“You are, though,” Grantaire said, in a tone that brooked no argument. Enjolras scowled and Grantaire rolled his eyes. “Fine, then why don’t we make a deal?” he said. “I’ll stop defending you when you stop bailing me out.”

“At the rate you’re going, I won’t be able to anyway,” Enjolras said sourly. “Not without putting up some major collateral.”

Grantaire shook his head. “And I’m definitely not worth that,” he said.

Enjolras’s eyes met his. “You are, though.”

For a moment, it looked like Grantaire might argue. Instead, he reached for Enjolras’s hand, bringing it up to kiss his knuckles through the bars of the holding cell. “No touching,” the booking officer barked, and Grantaire rolled his eyes as he reluctantly let go of Enjolras’s hand.

“Will you be at my arraignment?” he asked.

Enjolras shrugged. “Someone’s got to post whatever bail amount the judge decides,” he said.

Grantaire half-smiled. “In that case, I’ll be the one in the front.”

“Pretty sure that’ll be the judge,” Enjolras murmured, grinning when Grantaire rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I promise.”

“It’ll be the only thing that gets me through spending the night in here,” Grantaire told him, and it was Enjolras’s turn to roll his eyes, though there was obvious affection in the motion.

“Pretty sure Bahorel was right,” he said. “You definitely wouldn’t survive in jail.”

Grantaire just shrugged. “Only if you were in there with me.”

Enjolras shook his head, reluctantly backing away toward the door. “Still time,” he said, and Grantaire’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t you dare do anything stupid while I’m locked up in here.”

Enjolras just smirked. “See you tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder as he left, and Grantaire sighed, though there something strangely content in the noise, despite, or maybe because of, the circumstances.

— — — — —

Grantaire didn’t meet Enjolras’s eyes as he rapped his fingers impatiently against the front desk at the precinct, waiting for them to bring him his personal effects. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” Enjolras asked, his voice tight. Grantaire looked pointedly at the conspicuous clock on the wall and Enjolras’s scowl deepened. “Exactly, it’s 2 in the fucking morning. I have a 7 o’clock meeting, which you knew damn well, so why you had to go pick a bar fight with some guy twice your fucking size—”

“So sorry to be an inconvenience to you,” Grantaire drawled, slurring his words just slightly. “Can’t imagine what it must be like to have made plans that get interfered with by someone else’s priorities.”

Enjolras ground his teeth together. “Are we really doing this here and now?” he asked.

Grantaire just jerked a shrug, not meeting his eyes. “Do you have something better to do?”

Enjolras sighed and scrubbed a tired hand across his face. “I’m sorry that I had to cancel tonight,” he said, with as much patience as he could seemingly muster, considering the circumstances. “But I needed to get this proposal done ahead of the meeting tomorrow, and I don’t really see what the big deal—”

“You never do,” Grantaire interrupted, still not looking at him. “That’s the problem.”

“You knew going into this—”

“Just like you knew going into this that I’m a drunk and a disaster,” Grantaire interrupted, finally looking at Enjolras, his expression hard. “Well, congratulations, Apollo, it looks like we both knew what we were getting into and yet somehow, we’re both still disappointed.”

Enjolras just shook his head. “I’m not,” he said tiredly. “I’m not disappointed, Grantaire, because that would require me to actually expect better from you, and I learned my lesson on that a long time ago.”

Grantaire just grinned, a horrible, twisted grin. “Right back atcha.”

The officer returned with Grantaire’s belongings, and Grantaire grabbed his phone, wallet and keys, returning them to his pockets. Enjolras took a deep breath, but whatever he clearly wanted to say seemed to stick in his throat, and he looked away. “C’mon,” he said instead. “Let’s go home.”

Grantaire nodded once, shoving his hands in his pockets as he slumped after Enjolras, neither man touching the other.

— — — — —

“He’s not technically under arrest,” the cop told Enjolras as he led him back to the holding cell. “But that’s because we couldn’t really mirandize him when he was passed out.”

Enjolras eyed Grantaire, sprawled across the bench in the holding cell, and sighed. “So once he’s coherent, he’ll be charged with, what, drunk and disorderly?”

The officer nodded. “Yeah.” He glanced at Enjolras. “Look, it’s not my place, but, uh, maybe look into getting your friend some help?”

“Yeah,” Enjolras murmured, his expression drawn. “Maybe.” He sighed and turned. “Guess I’ll go preemtively pay his bail—”

“Apollo?” Grantaire croaked, and Enjolras sighed again.

“Give us a moment?” he asked the officer, who just shrugged.

Enjolras crossed to the bars of the holding cell, his arms crossed tightly in front of his chest. “Tell me,” he said, his tone clipped, “were you trying to get hit by a car by passing out in the street, or would have just been a fun little side effect of this spectacular attempt at blowing up your life?”

Grantaire groaned as he forced himself into a sitting position. “Honestly don’t remember if it was deliberate or not,” he muttered, swaying slightly as he blinked unfocusedly at Enjolras.

“There are easier ways of killing yourself,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire managed a small, sharp smile. “Don’t worry, I’ve considered those as well.”

Enjolras’s expression tightened and he looked away. “You used your one phone call for me,” he said.

Grantaire shrugged. “Didn’t know who else to call.”

“Probably anyone besides your ex.” Grantaire flinched and Enjolras sighed before telling him, as firmly as he could manage, “This is the last time. Do you understand?”

Grantaire barked a dry, humorless laugh. “If there’s one thing I can promise, Apollo, it’s that this won’t be the last time.”

“Maybe not for you,” Enjolras said. “But I’m done. So the next time you get picked up for a bar fight or public intoxication or whatever suicidal shit you decide to get yourself into next time, call someone else.”

He didn’t wait for Grantaire to answer, just turning on heel to leave him in the holding cell while he went to go pay his bail.

One last time.

— — — — —

The phone rang, and rang again, and Grantaire’s grip on the phone tightened. “Come on,” he muttered to himself. “Come on, pick up, pick up.”

But the phone just rang until the tinny, robotic voice informed him that no voicemail had been set up for this phone number, and he heaved a sigh as he hung up, a headache blooming in his temples that had absolutely nothing to the better part of a handle of whiskey that he’d worked his way through that evening.

“Nothing?” the booking officer asked, and Grantaire ground his teeth together at the fake sympathetic tone.

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’, and he scrubbed a hand across his face before heading back to the holding cell.

The booking officer trailed after him. “Do you, uh, want to try calling someone else?”

Grantaire just shook his head. “No,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest as the officer opened the door of the cell for him. “I’ll try again later. He’s probably asleep.”

The officer glanced up at the clock that showed it was barely 10pm, and he shook his head as he closed the door after Grantaire. “Your choice,” he said with a shrug.

Grantaire sighed heavily as he slumped down onto the hard metal bench, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to reach for an absent glass or bottle of beer, or else for a hand that used to be his to hold. His throat felt tight and he swallowed hard, tilting his head back to rest it against the wall of the holding cell.

He closed his eyes against the tears that he could feel prick in the corners of his eyes, though he honestly didn’t know if he was crying because Enjolras hadn’t picked up, or because there was a part of him that still thought that maybe, in the morning, he would. One more time.

#ExR #Enjolras x Grantaire #Enjoltaire #Enjolras #Grantaire #Les Amis #fanfiction #Les Miserables #modern AU #5+1 things #developing relationship #established relationship #and because it's me #former relationship #mild angst

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nishimuramp4 · 2 days

Text

untitled #1

synopsis: your roommate riki is a little messy, very annoying, but relatively normal. sometimes, though, you find that he acts very strange...

content warnings: unrealistic sex, dubcon, blood, mild body horror

The faucet had been left on again, a gentle yet steady stream of water draining into the kitchen sink. You sighed, twisted the knob, and called, “Riki!” behind your shoulder.

Soon, Riki walked into the room, leaning his elbows on the counter space in front of the sink. “What is it?” he asked, feigning innocence. As if you couldn’t see the smirk twitching on the corner of his lips.

“Stop leaving the water on,” you admonished. “This is the third time this week I’ve had to tell you to turn it off after you're done with it."

Riki shrugged and reached over, twisting the knob again. You twisted it back, and he turned the water on again, snickering to himself. “You’re not funny,” you said.

Riki pointed at your lips. “Then why are you smiling?”

“I’m not,” you said, fighting a grin. If you didn’t put your foot down now, he would never learn. You maintained a stoic expression as best as you could. “Look, if you leave the water on, it’ll start to add up, and then we’ll have to pay more.”

“Please.” Riki waved his hand dismissively and straightened up, walking over to the bowl of lustrous fruit that tucked next to the paper towel holder. He picked up a ripe, red apple and moved to lean against the fridge, tossing the fruit from hand to hand. “You’re worrying too much. It’s just a little trickle of water, it’ll cost like five dollars extra, max.”

“Or,” you said slowly, “you could just turn the faucet off when you’re done using the sink.”

Riki rolled his eyes and took a bite out of the apple. Its juice dribbled down his lips, and he wiped it away with his thumb, sucking on the digit with an exaggerated pop. If you didn’t know any better, you would think that he was trying to distract you. “Does it really bother you?”

“Wasting money bothers me,” you grumbled. “Now move. I need to get something out of the fridge.”

In true Nishimura fashion, he didn’t budge. Instead, Riki crossed his arms and grinned slightly at you before taking another bite of his apple. “I don’t wanna move,” he said, his voice taking on a childish cadence.

“Get out of the way,” you said. Riki was normally frustrating, but sometimes, he would drag a joke on for far too long. When you had first moved in together after meeting on a roommate app, he had pulled pranks on you, almost as if to set a precedent for his devilry. Riki had put spray foam on the mirror in the bathroom the two of you shared, replaced the knives you had brought with cheap plastic alternatives, and had stuck little pom-poms to the edges of all of the pieces of furniture in the home. Your kitchen table, the matching chairs, the small coffee table in your miniscule living room: all adorned with multicoloured pom-poms. You had grown accustomed to them, so you didn’t bother peeling them off.

Riki sank his teeth into his apple once more, no longer bothering to hide his self-satisfied smirk. “Nope.”

Groaning, you tried to pry him off the fridge yourself. “Get off.”

Despite his lithe, skinny frame, Riki was strong and easily pulled you away. One hand held you in place. Riki lowered his head towards yours, widening his eyes. “What’s the magic word?” His tone was condescending, as though he were a teacher and you were a child.

“Fuck off?”

“That’s two words,” Riki said, using the same patronizing voice. “Come on, just one word.”

You sighed. “Please?”

Riki let go of you and stood away from the fridge, choosing to prop himself up against the kitchen counter. “Was that so hard?”

Mumbling expletives under your breath, you picked out a few vegetables. Fried rice had been on your mind for a while, and your stomach was starting to growl.

“What are you making?” Riki asked, following your movements as you procured a bamboo cutting board and one of the flimsy, hot pink plastic kitchen knives Riki had bought.

“I’m making fried rice,” you said. “You can starve, though.” Wielding the knife, you began to cut into a medium-sized carrot. Chopping vegetables was a laborious, painstakingly slow process now because of Riki. When you cut anything now, the pieces always end up jagged. You had tried to negotiate, but Riki was adamant on keeping these stupid novelty cutlery pieces. Whatever. It wasn’t the only weird trait of his that you had had to tolerate.

Through a mouthful of apple, Riki said, “You wouldn’t let me starve.”

“I would,” you said, eyebrows knitting in concentration.

“Don’t be mean,” Riki murmured. Hands hung loosely around your neck, and Riki’s scent permeated your nostrils. His chest pressed lightly against your back, startling you. The knife slipped, and you nicked your index finger.

“Ah!” You stared at the small bead of blood pooling at its tip in annoyance. “Look at what you made me do,” you began, but the look on Riki’s face was enough to stop you in your tracks. His lips were contorted into a grimace, and he had ripped his arms away from you. His eyes, too, were fixed on your finger.

“Band-aid,” he said quietly. “You need one.” With that, Riki stumbled out of the kitchen to go to the bathroom.

You shook your head and ran your fingertip under cool water from the sink, watching the redness spill into the clear liquid. It was more of a shock that you hadn’t cut yourself before, given what you had to work with.

Riki came back less than a minute later, thrusting the box of band-aids in your direction. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“It’s fine,” you said. “Could you open a bandaid for me? Don’t wanna get blood everywhere.” You turned off the water and blotted your fingertip with a paper towel.

“Sure,” Riki said, his voice thin. He nearly dropped the box of bandages as he hastily tried to peel apart the strips of paper covering the bandaid. “Uh, finger. Give me your finger.”

“Weird phrasing,” you said with a slight laugh. You held your finger up and Riki hesitated to apply the bandage. A trickle of blood slipped down your pointer. “Riki? What are you doing?”

Riki’s eyes were fixed on your finger, but he blinked and pressed the bandaid unceremoniously onto the cut. “There,” he said. “Saved the day.” Riki swallowed and looked at his half-eaten apple. He washed his hands in the sink and ate his apple furiously while you cleaned up the rest of your blood.

“Maybe if you let us have regular knives, this wouldn’t have happened,” you said. The plastic knife was dotted with some of your blood, but Riki took it from you, pocketing it.

“It’s contaminated,” Riki said. “I don’t want to taste blood in my food.”

“Don’t avoid the issue,” you said, rummaging in the drawers for another stupid knife. “I want a normal knife.”

“No way,” Riki replied. “You would have cut yourself ten times worse if you had used a normal knife.”

You pulled a knife out, this one a putrid bright yellow. “No, I cut myself because I used your stupid knife,” you said. “Can’t we just g-,”

Riki’s voice rose suddenly, the first time he had ever sounded angry. “Drop it,” he said. “Please.”

You turned to gauge his body language, and Riki didn’t look mad. He looked scared, with pleading eyes. “Please,” he repeated.

“Fine,” you relented, getting to your feet.

Riki plucked the yellow knife out of your grasp and pushed you out of the way. “I’ll cut these,” he said, gesturing at the vegetables. “You go do… something else.”

“I’m not an invalid,” you said.

“It’s my apology,” Riki said. “Go lie down or read a book or something, I don’t know. I’ll make dinner tonight.”

You grimaced. “Riki…”

“Go,” he insisted sharply.

“Fine,” you said, walking towards your bedroom.

Riki was a decent roommate, but he could be ridiculously immature sometimes. The knives, the stupid decorations, and the way he avoided you when you were on your period. It was like he was a middle-schooler. He insisted that you dispose of your hygienic products as quickly as possible, citing the smell as the problem. “I wouldn’t leave my cumrags everywhere,” he had said, pointing vehemently at the small trash can in the bathroom. “So you can clean up your…shit.”

“Not even close to being the same thing,” you had said.

“Fine, fine, I’ll start leaving my used cumsocks everywhere, then,” he had said. Unfortunately, Riki had made good on his promise, leaving a single, worn, wet sock on the bathroom floor. Not willing to fight a war of attrition with a young adult male, you had taken to tossing out the trash every day when you were on your period.

An hour later, Riki called you into the kitchen. He had set the kitchen table for two, a spoon and a steaming bowl of fried rice on your placemat. "Done," he said, settling into his chair. He nodded at you. "Eat."

You begrudgingly ate the food. It was fine, but it was almost impossible to ruin fried rice. As you ate, you noticed that his gaze continued to flicker over to your bandaged finger.

After dinner, which has remained unusually terse, you retired to your room. Riki and you shared an amicable friendship, but you liked to have your alone time. You spent the rest of your night lounging on your bed, reading a fantasy novel that you had been putting off.

Once you noticed yourself beginning to yawn, you changed into your nightclothes and crawled into bed. Despite your fatigue, sleep refused to come. You tossed and turned, punched your pillow, and even tried slow, meditative breathing. Nothing.

As you lay there, burrowed under your blanket, you heard something from Riki's room. The apartment was laid out so that your bedrooms were on one side of the hallway and the bathroom and laundry room were on the other. You had the room closest to the living room, and your bed was pressed against the wall separating your room with Riki's.

It wasn't like Riki didn't make noise at night. Sometimes, he would wake you up while he played an online game with his friends, or you would hear his light snoring.

This wasn't like those times. Muffled sighs were emanating from his room, and you could hear his quilt rustling. As you listened, you realized that the sighs weren't sighs, but quiet moans.

You took your ear away from the wall, bristling in embarrassment. Normally, the two of you could be quiet. At the very least, Riki had never teased you about you pleasuring yourself, so you figured you were decent at hiding it. To his credit, despite his allusions to jerking off, you had never caught him either. Until now.

When you checked your phone, you saw that it was around 2 in the morning. He probably thought you were asleep, which was why his moans were growing louder. Riki almost sounded like he was in pain, and his bed creaked underneath him.

Against your better judgment, you pressed your ear against the wall once more, biting your lip. You wondered who he was thinking about. Riki had started working straight out of school, but you knew he had friends. Maybe it was one of them? Or a female celebrity? A male celebrity? Your mind worked overtime, trying to figure out who Riki could be getting off to.

Riki's breathing turned into a stream of panting and moaning, unsuccessfully smothered by his hand or blanket or whatever he was using. It was dark in your room, dark enough that your imagination was quick to fill in the gaps. You imagined his hand pumping his cock, his plush lips parting as he let out desperate whimpers, the sheen of sweat that had surely formed on his forehead.

You weren't crazy. You knew that you lived with an objectively attractive man, but you refused to act on it. The living arrangement you had now suited you well, and a relationship could only complicate things. You were sure he felt the same way.

Which is why his breathy whimper of your name caught you off guard. Heat nipped at your core, and you waited for him to say it again. Instead, the shuffling of fabric stopped, Riki's breathing began to even out, and the air was once again filled with silence.

"You imagined it," you told yourself. "Freak."

You didn't fall asleep for hours, rubbing your thighs together. You refused to get off to your roommate.

In the morning, you dragged yourself out of bed and wandered into the kitchen. Riki was already there, eating a piece of toast slathered with strawberry jam.

"Morning," you said.

Riki waved at you. "How'd you sleep?"

"Badly," you said, rubbing your eyes. "You?"

"Pretty well," Riki said, chewing on his breakfast as he scrolled through his phone.

You popped two pieces of bread into the toaster oven and yawned. You wanted to tell Riki that it was partially his fault you couldn't sleep, but you figured he would manage to misconstrue it into you being the weird one.

"If you stopped looking at Draco fanfiction, you'd sleep better," Riki said without looking up.

"What makes you think I read that?" you asked haltingly.

"A hunch," he replied.

"Yeah, well, maybe you'd sleep better if you..." you faltered.

"Take your time."

"Oh, fuck you, I'm too tired," you said, putting the toast on a saucer and shuffling to the kitchen table. Before you could use the plastic knife to spread the jam, Riki took your plate. He hastily spread globs of jam onto your bread before setting the plate in fromt of you.

"You take too long when you do it," Riki said, avoiding eye contact.

"Doing the cooking, helping me make breakfast, what's next for you?" You tried to lighten the mood, or you would be forced to contend with the uneasiness lining Riki's forehead.

"Don't get used to it," Riki said.

"Wasn't going to in the first place," you replied, eating your toast.

"Whatever," Riki mumbled. "Oh, I'm going to the grocery store after work. Text me if you need anything."

"Will do," you said.

"And try not to get hurt," he said, standing up. He put his plate in the dishwasher.

"No promises."

Riki groaned and left the kitchen.

You spent the day reading, studying, watching TV, and doing household chores. You always loved it when you got the house to yourself, and today was no exception. Finally, you could release some of the pent-up tension you had been carrying since last night.

You managed to get off without thinking about Riki, and afterwards you took a well-deserved, orgasm-induced nap. When you woke up, you remembered that you still hadn't unloaded the dishwasher.

The cutlery went first, and you grimaced at the sight of the various plastic knives. Then you handled the plates. You recognized one of them as the saucer that Riki had used that morning, which made you think about last night. The way he had said your name, voice muffled and hoarse. Just the thought of it shot desire throughout your body, and you banged your head into the edge of the cupboard. Luckily, you managed to put the plate on the counter before you slipped to the floor. Otherwise, you'd have a broken saucer to deal with, too.

Getting to your feet, you made your way into the bathroom. You assessed the damage in the mirror with a grimace. It would probably develop into a goose egg later on, so it was imperative that you stopped the swelling now lest you develop a garish-looking bump. You retrieved a small hand-towel from the little cupboard above the towel and mopped up some of the blood. The ice packs were all in the freezer, so you stepped out into the hallway.

There, you were greeted with Riki, who had seemingly materialized out of thin air. He was staring at you with narrowed eyes, lips pressed into a line. "You got hurt again," he said in an almost accusatory tone.

"Not like I meant to," you muttered. "Now move, I need an ice pack."

"Let me see," Riki said, and before you could protest he tore the stained towel away from your face and cast it aside. With no buffer, your blood dripped freely down your face, tickling your skin during its descent. You could see Riki's Adam apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously, eyes trained on the trickle of blood.

"How'd you do it?"

"Walked into a cupboard."

"Idiot," Riki muttered. His hands fell to your shoulders, lightly squeezing them. His gaze was starting to grow unsettling; you realized that you hadn't seen him blink once.

"Let me go," you said, squirming. "I'm gonna bleed everywhere." You could feel the blood sliding down to the tip of your nose.

"Just..." Riki leaned in and licked a stripe from the tip of your nose to its bridge. You gasped, a flurry of goosebumps painting your back. "Sorry," he whispered. Empty apology. He did it again, his tongue flicking over your face again. His grip grew tighter as he licked all the way to the scar, lapping up your blood. As he did so, he groaned softly.

"What are you doing?" you asked.

When he pulled away to look at you, his mouth was smeared with your blood and his saliva. Riki licked his lips and shivered. His hands dug into your shoulders, his nails sharp even through your shirt. Too sharp. You looked down at them and gasped once more. His hands, which were so pretty and slender, had become gnarled, his fingernails elongating and solidifying into something else. You rubbed your eyes, but the sight didn't go away.

"Sorry," Riki said again. "I'm sorry..." His tongue swirled around the wound on your forehead, and you noted that it felt different. It felt thicker, less soft, more like an appendage than a squishy piece of muscle. As he licked the scar, Riki hooked his leg behind yours and took you down to the floor of the hallway. He pressed his body weight against yours so that you were pinned underneath him.

Riki kneeled over top of you, his breathing growing laboured. He wiped his mouth with his ever-thickening hand. He parted his lips as if to say something, but all that came out was a low growling noise.

His body continued to undergo fantastical changes. Every inch of skin darkened into an inky blackness. He was already tall, but his spine cracked and groaned as Riki grew. He was now around 8 feet tall. His torso expanded, tearing through his shirt. The sinews of his shoulders became visible, and the hard outline of his abs looked embossed on his new body.

His pants were the next to be ripped to shreds, as his legs went from thin yet muscular to large and bulky. Riki's hard cock was equally as obsidian, imposing, and hopelessly inhuman as the rest of him. Besides its unnatural length and girth, the underside of it was ridged with little bumps.

You were dreaming. You had to be because this didn't make sense. Generally speaking, cute boys didn't turn into monsters.

Riki, if you could still call him that, ran one finger along your shirt, from its neck to its hem. Then he roughly dragged his claw all the way up, ripping your shirt in half. You yelped and moved to cover yourself, but Riki let out a noise that could only be described as animalistic. He shoved your hands away and tore the rest of your shirt off of you. Your bra was discarded in a similar manner, and your nipples immediately hardened from the chill.

One of his massive hands kneaded your tits, eliciting another growl from him. Just one hand was enough to cover your entire breast. The other clawed at your pants, leaving them in tatters. He stripped the fabric off of you, finally leaving you in just a thin pair of panties.

Riki dragged his claw along the waistband of your panties, then he trailed it onto your still clothed clit. You whimpered pathetically at his touch, writhing underneath him.

"Riki," you pleaded, "what are you doing?" You kept telling yourself that it was a dream, but the sulfuric scent wafting into your nostrils was all too visceral. The wetness starting to soak through your panties was also real.

He took off your panties with a bit of more delicacy, making a cut down the middle and peeling them off with a wet, sticky noise. Seemingly having his fill with your blood, Riki lowered his head to your pussy and started to lap at your clit. His dexterous, thick tongue felt amazing on the sensitive nub, and you moaned. Satisfied that you wouldn't run away, Riki moved his hands to your thighs, holding them lightly in place. His tongue, feeling twice as long with the average human's, alternated between teasing your clit and probing its way inside of your pussy. It flicked upwards just enough to reach the gummy wall of your G-spot, forcing more moans out of you.

You didn't think Riki in this form would have been particularly occupied by your pleasure, but given the way he fucked his tongue into your pussy, it was clear that he fully intended on bringing you to the brink. His hair was still normal, so you tangled your fingers inside the black locks as you enjoyed the sensations. If this were a dream, it was a pretty fun one after all.

Riki sucked and licked your clit, causing a pleasurable heat to rise within you. Your hips bucked into his mouth as you anticipated your orgasm. Then, forcefully, a wave of sheer, white-hot ecstasy washed over you, stars flashing in front of your eyes. Never had you ever had a climax so powerful, so delicious. Riki kept lapping up your juices as you came, and you tugged at his hair weakly to get him to stop. He continued, and you whined, the overstimulation growing painful.

"Riki," you said, pulling his hair again. "Stop..." You sat upright and tried to catch your breath.

He lifted his head up, and to your surprise, he was smirking. So, even as a creature, he was still an annoying brat. You rolled your eyes at him, which he responded to by pressing his moist lips against yours. Immediately, Riki's tongue shoved itself inside of your mouth, slithering down your throat; his hands continued playing with your tits. Slowly, he pushed you down once more onto the cold tile.

You could feel his stiff, barbed cock pressing against you and you grimaced. There was no way he was going to be able to fit that inside you all the way, was there?

Riki seemed intent on finding out. Parting your legs again, he jammed the tip of his cock into your pussy, working it in carefully. At the slightest bit of friction, he moaned deeply. He was thick, almost too thick. Just the tip made your toes curl. As he adjusted to your pussy, he sucked on your nipples, one after the other. He bit them and pulled at them with his abnormally sharp teeth.

He stuffed about half of his length into you before starting to move. Even half of him filled you nicely, stretching out your walls. It had been so long since you had done anything, and you welcomed the pleasure. The barbs on his cock only added to the sensation.

Riki started to ram his hips into you faster. His claws dug into your waist, and his head was thrown back as he let out guttural moans. He jammed more of his cock into you, and you screamed.

"Too much," you said. "It hurts, Riki." But it was as if he couldn't hear you anymore. Instead, he only quickened his pace. He placed one knee on the ground, balancing his other leg on the ball of his foot. He held your hands, now tiny in his grasp, and used this new position to better pound into you. Riki brought you onto his cock over and over again. Every time he went deeper, you could feel more of the barbs dragging along your sensitive walls. His balls, which were heavy and hung low, slapped against your thighs.

You cried out again, tears running down your face. It hurt so badly, but it felt so, so good. Riki was treating you like a ragdoll, pushing you around, doing whatever he wanted with you. He dropped your hands and spun you around so that your boobs pressed against the floor. Your hands splayed out onto the tile, desperately searching for purchase.

Grabbing your ass using both of his hands, he effortlessly pushed you up and down on his length yourself. Despite the pain you were already feeling from his monstrous dick, he still hadn't plunged himself all the way inside yet. His tip pressed against your cervix, threatening its narrow opening.

You hadn't realized that you had been approaching another orgasm until electric shocks ravaged your body. You bit your fist and shrieked into it as your pussy undulated against Riki's length. The different stimulations made you feel like you were touching a live wire.

This only spurred Riki on, and he drove himself even further into you. His cock breached your cervix and you screamed again. He was fucking your womb now, bulging your stomach with his long, hard cock. His claws dug so sharply into you that tears sprung to your eyes; your tits bounced painfully, and your ass hit against his groin with loud, lewd smacks. The sounds he made were like grunts, but stronger, more primordial, darker. Everything about him screamed power.

Riki pulled out of you only to slam himself back inside, tearing through your cervix with renewed vigor. He was crouched over your body, holding your legs above you. He drove himself inside of you slowly at first, then harshly. His grip around your ankles was as tight as a vice.

When his thrusts became erratic, you figured that he was close. With a final, primal cry, Riki came, pumping your womb full of his seed. He pulled out of you with a gasp and rolled onto his back. You were left to lie down your stomach, hyperventilating as you tried to regain your senses.

Curiously, you reached a finger down into the liquid pooling between your legs and examined it. It was black, much less viscous than regular cum, and it smelled of sulfur. You took a lick and spit it out immediately, as it tasted exactly how it smelled.

You glanced back at Riki, who was returning to normal. The blackness of his face faded to his usual, fleshy tone, although he was flushed all over. His body became wiry again, and the claws rescinded into his regular, short nails. His eyes had been squeezed shut, but when Riki opened them and looked at you, he winced.

"Sorry," he said apologetically. He pulled you over to him, resting your head on his chest. He sighed and rubbed your scalp. "I honestly am sorry. I didn't mean to, uh, do all that..."

"I'll consider forgiving you if you explain yourself," you said.

"Ugh, it's so cringe," Riki said. "I feel lame as shit talking about it. Fine. I'm a half demon on my dad's side."

You looked up at him, and he offered you a weak smile. "I know," he said, "it's stupid. But that's what I am. Normally, I can control my human form, but when demons become of age, and they uh, see or smell blood, it makes them, uh..."

"Horny?" you offered.

"Hungry," Riki said. "It makes us go kinda crazy."

"Is that why you replaced all the knives with fake ones?"

Riki nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, sorry. And why I can't be around you when you're on your period."

"Well, what would happen if you were?"

Riki screwed his mouth up as he thought. "I'd probably fuck you until you were passed out and while you were passed out and we'd have period sex for a week straight."

You shrugged. "I don't see a problem with this."

Riki snickered and kissed the top of your head. "Gross bitch."

"You're literally a creature."

Riki mock-gasped. "That's a slur." He tried to maintain a poker face for added effect but failed, laughing loudly. His laughter was always contagious, so you did the same.

Maybe, just maybe, being roommates with Riki wouldn't be so bad.

#riki nishimura smut #ni-ki smut #niki smut #niki enhypen smut

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an-impulsive-pen · 2 days

Text

Hair

Elliot X GN reader

Elliot decides his spouse needs to take better care when washing their hair, so he takes things into his own hands!

Fluff, a tiny bit suggestive at the end

“We really should trim the ends, too, you know,” Elliot sighed as he guided his partner to sit and lean their head back over the running sink. They huffed. “I can wash my own hair, y’know.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Elliot mumbled. “Tell me if the water’s too hot.” “It’s fine,” they shifted in their seat. “... You really don’t have to do this.” “I beg to differ,” he said, arranging the shampoo and conditioner he planned to use on the counter. “You work out on the farm all day, sweating and building up dirt and grime. You really should take better care of your hair if you intend to keep it like this. And, frankly,” he took his spouse’s hand and lifted it to his lips, “I’ve grown quite fond of it like this,” he grinned and kissed their knuckles softly.

The farmer’s face flushed, but there was no more argument. “Alright, here we go,” Elliot smiled as he began rinsing their hair. “Just relax and let me pamper you for a while.”

With a soft exhale, they did just as they were told. They melted instantly as they felt Elliot’s fingers running through their hair, massaging his scalp.

“... Feels nice?” He asked. The farmer hummed softly in confirmation, earning a small chuckle from Elliot. “Good. I’m glad. I’m going to start with the shampoo, alright?” “Okay,” they nodded the little bit that they could with their head tilted back.

They shivered slightly as they felt the cool of the shampoo contrasting the warm water. Elliot smiled down at them as he worked the shampoo through their hair, making sure not a strand was missed. “... This is nice,” he said. His partner looked up at him.

“... Yeah…?”

“Yes. Your hair is nice, and…” his voice softened a little. “... I enjoy feeling like *I’m* taking care of *you* for once.”

“What do you mean?” they asked. Elliot sighed as he began rinsing their hair. “... You spend so much time working. My writing helps, sure, but the farm is our only *consistent* income. You’re the reason we have this roof over our heads and food on our table. I just… I like feeling like I’m contributing in some way.”

The two sat without speaking for a moment, only the sound of running water filling the silence. The farmer finally broke the quiet as Elliot reached for the conditioner. “You’re *always* taking care of me,” they murmured.

Elliot paused and looked down at them questioningly.

“... You’re the one I get to see every morning when I get up, and every night in bed. You help around the farm, and you’re always here for me. You go out of your way to do all these big, romantic gestures, and you… You make me feel *cared about*,” they said softly. Elliot hesitated before giving a small smile. “... I’m glad you think so, dearest,” he said, beginning to apply the conditioner. “I want nothing more than to make you feel loved and cared for.” “Well, you’re really good at that,” their face flushed, and they let their eyes fall shut again. Elliot chuckled.

“Good. You deserve it, love,” he hummed. “So just relax, and let me spoil you.” His partner smiled softly. After a moment they opened their eyes. “... Is that… Pomegranate scented?” “Only the best for my beloved,” he grinned down at them playfully. They laughed softly. “Well, thank you,” they looked up at him. “... Even though I could’ve just taken a shower and washed my hair.” “I don’t know if I trust how thorough you’ll be on your own,” Elliot smirked. “If you like, though, we can certainly do this in the shower next time…”

#elliot my beloved!!!#sdv elliott #sdv fanfic #stardew valley #stardew valley elliott #sdv elliot x farmer #sdv x reader #sdv elliot x reader #sdv elliot fluff

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mcuamerica · 1 day

Text

The Shadowsinger: Four

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. mentions of abuse/violence, implied SA, aftermath of the Sangravagh attack, Tamlin is mentioned, mention of death, ACOTAR series spoilers. If I forgot anything, please let me know!

Pairings: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your first day of training with Azriel ends with you helping priestesses heal after an attack on their temple.

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters or plot lines, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

My graphics are my own. If you wish to use them, please give credit!

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Prologue - One - Two - Three

After hours of training, you went down to the dining room with Azriel to eat lunch. “I think my legs might fall off.” You muttered as you sat down, wincing slightly as you adjusted your wings. You spent the whole first half of the day learning how to balance for a fight and then practicing fighting stances. You didn’t even make a fist until the last hour, and barely got into punches and jabs before Azriel called it for lunch.

He chuckled, sitting down across from you. “It can’t be that horrible, but if it is, I’ve got some good solvents for you to add to your bath. And a few oils.” He said.

“Are you suggesting you can give me a massage, Shadowsinger?” You teased, leaning forward on the table. Azriel flushed and his eyes widened. “Relax, I’m kidding. But I might take you up on those oils.” You said and started to dig into the food that appeared in front of you.

You glanced around, curious as to how none of the others were here. “They’re in a meeting right now.” Azriel said, as if he knew what your question was going to be.

“Oh… don’t you need to be in it?” You asked and he shrugged.

“Rhys will tell me what he needs to.” He said and looked at you for a few more seconds, frowning slightly. You could tell his shadows were talking to him, telling him something.

“I’ve gotta go.” He said and stood up.

You rose your eyebrows and looked at him. “Do you need-“ you started but he already vanished. Sighing, you slumped in your chair and started to eat again. You didn't even think to ask your shadows what was the matter.

Not even thirty minutes later, chaos erupted in the house. Dozens of priestesses were in the dining room, being healed by anyone who had the magic or the knowledge on how to do it. You helped bring clothes and water over, using some tonics and oils to help heal their wounds. None of them spoke and only whimpers and screams from the wounded could be heard.

Rhys said that their temple was attacked by Hybern soldiers, who successfully got what they came for. And left almost all the priestesses dead or badly wounded. And worse. So you did what you could to heal the wounded, using the training and your years of being the village healer with Sirona as best as you could.

Hours later, almost all of them had been taken back to the temple. Where they would heal and rebuild as much as they could. Mor was sent there with Amren to survey the damage and clean up everything they could.

Expect for one. An auburn haired acolyte who you saw Mor carry in. One of the first ones to arrive. You shot Azriel a look as if to question what happened and if she was okay, and he only shook his head in return. You saw Azriel’s jacket around her and guessed what happened.

She was the last sitting in the living room, new clothes and a blanket wrapped around her. She was still shaking even with the fire blazing. You brought a glass of water over to her, making sure to use heavy feet so you didn’t scare her as you set the glass down on the table next to her.

“If you’d like water, I brought some..” you said quietly. “Or I can have some tea made for you, it wouldn’t take long.” You offered and looked at her for a few moments. She blinked and looked at the water, reaching out for it slowly before taking a sip.

“Whenever you’re ready, I can show you to the library where a priestess will show you to your dorm.” You added and she took a deep breath.

“I- can you show me? I don’t… I don’t want to see anyone else.” She said and you nodded.

“Of course. Let me see where you’ll be staying.” You said and stood up.

“Can I… have tea, too?” She asked and you gave her a small smile.

“Is it okay if Mor brings it?” You asked and she nodded.

“It’ll be right out.” You said and walked over to where the rest of the Inner Circle were in Rhys’s office. “Mor, can you get tea for the acolyte in there?” You asked and she nodded, going to grab it.

“Rhys.. do you know where she’ll be staying?” You asked and he nodded, showing you where it was and giving you a basket of things that all the new priestess got. Robes, other clothes, towels, and a small pamphlet that let them knew their options for support and work.

“Thanks for helping, you were really good with all of them.” Rhys said and you nodded as you made your way back up to the living room.

“I used to help Sirona with healing at the village… and sometimes the Illyrians that came through weren’t too kind to the females. I treated more than I would have wanted.” You said and looked at the basket. “This program is amazing. I can’t imagine how many priestesses you’ve helped.” You said to him.

“They’re my responsibility to protect. And when I fail, it’s my responsibility to help them through it. And make them feel safe in their home.” He said and you smiled.

“You’re a good High Lord,” you said and patted his arm before heading to the living room, not noticing how stunned Rhys was as he watched you approach Gwyn and helped her to the library.

“Everything okay?” Cassian asked and nudged Rhys.

“She said I was a good High Lord. After everything she’s seen me do. She said I was good.” He said and Cass smiled.

“You are good, Rhys. Everything you’ve done was to protect your people. To help Prythian.” He said and squeezed his shoulder. “No wings tonight?”

“No… sometimes it’s too intimidating. I don’t want to scare the females further.” He said, Cassian leading him back to the office.

When you came back to join them, Gwyn, you learned was her name, settled into her dorm for the night, you saw the stark faces.

“Whatever the Hybern soldiers stole… it wasn’t good, was it?” You asked. “I know I’m new here, so if you don’t want to talk about it around me I can leave-“

“It was a part of the Cauldron.” Amren said and you frowned. You heard stories of what happened to the Cauldron. How it was broken into pieces so it wouldn’t be used again.

“I- what?” You asked.

“We believe Hybern wants to reform the Cauldron. And they just got closer to doing it.” Rhys said and you took a seat in one of the chairs.

“That’s not good at all..” you muttered. “What can we do?” You asked.

“Not a lot. We can try to locate the other pieces. But even I don’t know where they are. Az has his spies looking now.” He said.

“And we’ll have to come up with a plan on what to do if the Cauldron is brought to full power.” Azriel said and you looked at him, noticing that his shadows swirled around him more than ever now. And that his face was almost just that, a shadow of what it normally was.

“Can I do anything?” You asked and Rhys glanced to his Inner Circle.

“For now, keep training. I may ask you to fight with us if it comes to that. And… while you’re in the library, see if you can find anything on the Cauldron and its power….” He said and you slumped slightly. You thought he’d offer something more… useful. But you were new, and you didn’t have the same powers as the others in the Circle. You didn’t even have a Siphon or killing power.

“Alright, I can do that.” You said and nodded.

You sat through the meeting, each of the Inner Circle getting assigned tasks throughout. Each of them left to start that night.

“Rhys…” you said before he could leave. “You… you haven’t mentioned Feyre since we got back. And you haven’t called in your bargain for her.” You said and he sighed.

“I can’t call it in… I’m letting her enjoy the time with… Tamlin... She deserved to be happy.” He said and you nodded.

“Like I said, a good High Lord.” You said and stepped closer to him. “But a better male.” You stated before making your way to the stairs so you could get some rest. You had to be up early for your training tomorrow anyway.

A/N: Oof... this one was hard but I feel like it's important to highlight that the reader is also a healer and she knows how to help those who have been hurt. Also, I love her and Rhys's relationship sooooo much. Hopefully the timeline is correct, I’m going off of one I found on here when I started writing. If anything doesn’t add up, consider it a necessary change for the plot lol.

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