#celestemere

˙✦ Solace

Pairing ᯓᡣ𐭩 dick grayson x plus size fem black reader

synopsis ᯓᡣ𐭩 You've been living your entire life in solitude after going through a traumatic childhood that rewired your views of life, and most of all yourself. That all changes when you meet Dick Grayson, the one person you can trust to give you solace.

word count + warnings ᯓᡣ𐭩 fluff + angst, no miscommunication trope, flashbacks, early stages of relationship (aren't actually together) || 2k words

part 1/4

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series masterlist | masterlist

NOTICE: I'm sorry for logging off for 2 months, uni was kickinggg my ass, so I've barely had any time to write for my currently ongoing series, but here's something to start with.

There's something different about the way Dick Grayson grounded you; in moments of chaos; uncertainty…even in moments where the battles you faced were in your mind.

The two of you had crossed paths at one of his father's galas last year in Gotham, where you shared a long conversation that delved into the politics of Blüdhaven, then pivoted to the power of unity in for and during community empowerment and rebuilding, all in one seating.

You simply couldn't help the intrigue that surfaced in you as you regarded him at the end of the night, taking in his boyish smile as he asked you — admittedly with a pink tint to his cheeks — to accompany him to a restaurant downtown, stating that he was enjoying himself to much to call it wraps on the conversation.

What ensued was a night filled with laughter and smiles, as you absorbed Dick's childlike and carefree nature. He was infectious; latching onto you in a way that made it hard to shake him off.

Somehow, you'd ended up at a rooftop bar overlooking the city skyline, admiring the way the lights twinkled, covering the city in a stunning mystique that left you enthralled.

"What's on your mind sweetheart," Dick had inquired, regarding the way dazed look in your eyes as you reunited with the present.

"Well…I just think that sometimes I forget about the duality of Gotham, and how despite how there shall always be that murkiness that taints the city's image, there's also that unabashed beauty that deserves recognition its own right…sorry that sounds kinda stupid doesn't it?" You'd asked, slightly embarrassed after your rumble.

Sighing, Dick had cast his gaze back out towards the skyline, a slightly bittersweet smirk having lined his lips as he'd commented, "You know, this entire evening you've been holding yourself back, questioning whether or not you were saying the right things, doing the right things…"

His gaze found yours once again, intense in a way that showed finality, urging you to see what he saw, "…But I want you to know that whenever you're with me — hopefully a lot more often moving forward — that you can be whoever you want to be, and express yourself in whatever way you find fitting."

Clutching your hand and bringing it to his lips, he'd peppered light kisses along it, as he maintained eye contact before softly saying, "Don't ever hide yourself from me princess. I want to get to know all of you, and eventually, have all of you, as you shall surely have all of me."

Today, the two of you have been able to build a strong friendship that had blossomed over the course of the months that you to had spent getting to know each other.

Maybe you were a little bit of a traditionalist, but you'd always believed in having a man court you, with Dick still having to work harder before you ever said yes to being his girlfriend.

It's not without saying your mindset on relationships wasn't a direct result of your upbringing, with your childhood and teenage years heavily impacting your self confidence, and in turn costing you experience in how to handle romantic relationships.

Despite this, Dick had always made it a point to remain a constant in your life, determined to always show you how much he not only wanted you but also cared for you.

You weren't used to this attention, with loneliness previously being no stranger in your home to put it quite frankly.

Previously, your days and weeks consisted of you going over to the local radio station, curating the playlist for the late morning and early afternoon sessions, before heading back home, reading whatever books had taken your fancy, before falling asleep and repeating the same routine the next day.

This is who you were; a girl that constantly lived in solitude, shelving away dreams that she felt she would never get the chance to see happen in real time.

Well, that was who you used to be, up until you met Dick that night at the gala.

You don't really remember when the great shift happened, but you found yourself…branching out, letting more layers of yourself be exposed, and confronting traumas that had plagued you for most of your life.

Between the span of then and now, you'd become more social at the radio station, even gaining a segment in which you talked about books, and interviewed different local authors.

You'd gone on trips to Metropolis, embarking on a journey that mended your relationship with your mother, as you both confronted hard pills that had scarred your relationship with one another.

Asides from Metropolis, you'd also gotten the opportunity to visit Central City and Coast City with Donna, Cassandra, and Stephanie, in which the four of you had gotten to explore new sights, try out new restaurants, and do more activities that made you four become even more tight knit than you already were.

The four of you had met when you bumped into the three of them at a mini concert that was held in Robinson Park, connecting over your shared love for food, music, and of course, Gotham.

Now, as you walked towards downtown Gotham, you couldn't contain the smile that had your cheeks turning up, and warmth flowing up to your neck.

Dick Grayson had quite literally been the catalyst that changed your life, with his mere presence giving you the confidence to face the world and embody who you truly were, and wanted to become.

Despite your close relationship, you hadn't seen him since last month, as he'd gotten busy and only had time to face time once a week.

"Brrring!"

Jolting out of your trance, you glanced at your blaring phone as you looked at the call coming in.

Picking up with a smile, you teasing joked, "Damn, I knew you were obsessed with me but spamming me with 3 calls within the same hour? That's a new record Grayson."

Chuckling softly on the other end of the line, Dick couldn't help but tease back as he replied, "Yeah but with the way you've gotten lost on the way to almost all of the restaurants we've met up at, I think its safe for me to be a little bit worried whenever you're left to your own devices, wouldn't you agree sweetheart?"

"Hey! It's only happened three out of nine times. You can't keep on holding this against me — " you said warm with indignation, before a wail suddenly erupted as you glanced up and watched as a police convey chased after a speeding car heading towards Gotham Bridge.

"Fuck…" you cursed, having forgotten that you were alone and walking towards a slightly more crime stricken area of the city.

Seriousness now coating his tone, "Wait you aren't in a taxi? Give me a minute I'll have a car with you in a few minutes," Grayson said, promptly hanging up the phone.

Your hands slightly trembling, and more alert than you were moments ago, you sent Dick your location, as you headed into a nearby cafe to wait, suddenly feeling a little bit heavier after the reality shock.

Trying to calm your breathing and block out memories of your childhood, you practiced the breathing technique Dick taught you when you saw you have a panic attack for the first time.

Thirteen years ago, as you and your mother stood outside your porch to welcome your father back home, you watched as he was brutally killed by a group of men in a army green '84 Mustang before the sped away.

Ten minutes later he died in your arms, as you screamed out for help that arrived five minutes after his last breath.

Those memories still haunt you, with the incident having shattered the life that you and your mother had once known.

Snapping out of daze, you gathered yourself as you chose to people watch the patrons in the cafe to buy time. Your eyes landed on a couple with their daughter, who animatedly stared at the cakes on display and begged her parents to let her have the chocolate covered ones. Cute, you thought, I wonder if Dick would ever want kids.

Realizing the trajectory of your thoughts, warmth quickly rushed to your cheeks, as you quickly stuffed away those thoughts for later, not wanting to psyche yourself out before your dinner with him.

At that moment, Dick's slick, blacked out Cadillac pulled up near the front, with his driver stepping out to get the door for you as you made your way outside.

The car ride to the restaurant wasn't quite long, with it giving you enough time to calm the butterflies that were still lingering in your tummy.

That however proved futile as they returned in full force once your eyes snagged onto Dick's bright and megawatt smile as he pulled you into a deep embrace, engulfing you in a warmth that you only felt with and around him.

You couldn't help but melt into the hug, allowing your eyes to close as you burrowed yourself deeper into him.

It seemed as though time paused whenever you were in his arms, which allowed you to inhale his deep, sandalwood and breezy scent before you pulled way to flash him your grin.

"You don't get to hug me for long, especially since you basically ghosted me for the last few weeks," you teased, scrunching up your nose in mock annoyance.

Chuckling before lacing his pinky with yours, he escorted you to your table as he replied, "I'm sorry sweetheart. I'll try and be better about maintaining constant communication. I recognize that I can't exactly pull out the "I've been busy" card every single time can I?"

One thing Dick hadn't been completely honest about with you was what he did for work, rather than the odd comment about how busy he was. What was even more confusing was how he always seemed to have a bruise or something of the sorts on him.

Of course you had your suspicions, but those are inquiries that you didn't have the guts to confront right now, not when you'd gotten so addicted to the relationship that the two of you had managed to forge over the last few months.

"Okay gorgeous," he started as he threw back some of his Gin & Tonic, "I want you to give me a play by play of what's been going on with you since our last dinner. Tell me everything."

With his encouragement, you launched into a spile on all the things you'd been up to, updating him on your segment at your radio station, the different events that you'd attended with your friends, and most of all how things were going with your mother.

You couldn't help but get a little bit chocked up as you felt happiness course through you at the progress that you'd made with your relationship with her, especially considering how it was basically non-existent over a year ago.

Wearing your heart on your sleeve, you also revealed that you sometimes felt like the cracks in your relationship — and generally speaking your self esteem — would cut you before they ever got the chance to be mended.

Reaching across the table, Dick intertwined your hands together as he rubbed soothing circles around the back of your hand with his thumbs.

"Baby I want you to remember that I'll always be here for you. You know that right?" Leveling you with a sincere look, he continued, "No matter how busy I get I'll always try and make time for — "

His phone buzzing distracted you both from the moment, as he glanced at the name displayed on his screen.

Bruce Wayne.

From what you knew about Bruce Wayne in regards to the information Dick had offered to you, as well as what you'd observed from the few times you'd met him at galas, you didn't take him as the type to place calls randomly at such hours of the night.

"Shit…I'm sorry angel, can I just take this and then I'll be right back?"

Nodding your head you watched as Dick got up and walked towards one of the corners, lowering his head as he took in his fathers words.

You took in his stance as he posture noticeably became more guarded; his balled fists; clenched jaw; most of all the fire that enlightened the longer he heard his father speak.

Running his hand through his hair, he tapped his foot against the floor as he responded to whatever it is his father had said, sighing with aggravation as he tersely said goodbye and hang up before walking back to your table.

"Hey, are you okay?" You asked, softly clutching his hand in yours.

Laughing bitterly he ran his hand through his hair again before shaking his head.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart, I'm going to have to leave earlier, there was an emergency at work that I have to sort out immediately. Can we reschedule for later this week? I think I'm going to be in Gotham for a lot longer than I'd planned on, so we can meet up anytime."

As feelings of disappointed washed over you, you gave him a small smile as you reassured him that you'd be fine, and that you'd both get to meet again sometime later.

As you were driven back to your apartment, you couldn't help but wish to see more of Dick's layers, wondering what exactly had pulled him away from your dinner.

Why in the world had Dick Grayson — the most carefree and friendly person you knew — looked so lethal as he listened to his fathers words on the other line?

Can I Make It Up To You?

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x thick!woc

Tags: Oral fixation, fingering, words of endearment, slight aftercare, fem!reader receiving, bickering

Word Count: 1.5k

"I can't believe you and Bruce are actually together," commented a short brunette. "How long have you two been dating?"

"Oh we're actually engaged," you replied with a tight smile. "Next month marks our 1 year anniversary of being together."

The brunette looked disgruntled, giving her friend a quick glance before turning her attention back onto you.

"Really? Well that's simply lovely, isn't it Charlotte?" she asked looking at her friend.

"Well of course it is Stacey. However, I do wonder how he could have possibly asked you to marry him after knowing you for such a short period of time? Did you woe him with your talents in bed? Oh do tell!"

You had been entertaining the two girls for over ten minutes now, and had grown tired of being complacent with their snide comments and remarks.

Feigning a puzzled looked, you asked, "And what would you mean by that? The only talent of mine that seemed to have wowed him is my company," you answered, flashing them your brightest smile.

Looking irritated, Stacey retorted, "Well Bruce just loved my company as well. I remember all the marvelous dates he took me on when we were together. We loved frequenting the little restaurant just a few ways away from here." Smiling, she tilted her head the side slightly before continuing, "It seems as though he takes you there too often though, seeing as how you're filling out your dress. Oh, not to worry though, I'm sure you have more than enough time to shed it before the wedding," finished Stacey, looking triumph at her dig.

Sighing, you quickly did a once over of Stacey. She was rather short, around 5'3'', a brunette with eyes the color of sea moss, and a smile that had dazzled all those that faced it. She was slim, with her lilac dress hugging her frame. In short, she was just like all of Bruce's old exes.

You on the other hand couldn't help but be a stark contrast. You towered over her at 5'8''. You'd decided to put your curls into an elegant updo, so that more focus could be paid onto your dress, and full beat of glam. Your butter yellow dress accentuated your waist, as it allowed your skin to glow under the light of the chandeliers overhead.

You truly did look stunning, and not only did you know it, but so did Bruce, as he happened to have been taking quick glances at you the whole night as you both mingled around the ball room.

However, the two women in front of you obviously didn't share Bruce's sentiments, as they looked at you with hints of disgust in their features.

Allowing your smile to brighten back up, you replied, "I appreciate your concern, however don't fret so, as I'm quite confident in my curves. How could I not when people spend thousands to achieve what I'm already so blessed with?"

As you made a move to excuse yourself from the conversation, Stacey "accidentally" knocked into you, drenching the front of your dress with her red wine.

Murmurs erupted around you as she started fretting over your dress. "I am so sorry! I seemed to have lost my footing!" She said, feigning concern.

Now livid, you glared at her as you heatedly asked, "How could you have possibly lost your footing on wood titles? Even a person on crutches has more balance than you!"

"Honey," Bruce interrupted intercepting you from behind, "Let's not make a scene in front of everyone. Let's get out of here, I already have the car parked outside."

Before Bruce could whisk you away though, you happened to bump into Charlotte, which caused you to pour your glass of wine down her dress, causing the people around you to gasp.

Quickly grabbing you, Bruce dragged you away from the commotion, mumbling half-assed apologies, as you guys left the ballroom.

Somehow even more furious, you turned your head to face him, scowling at him and halting in your footsteps.

"You were supposed to have my back! Instead you looked as though you were backing her the entire time! Do you know how it feels to have a bitch talking down on you for 10 fucking minutes!?" You yelled, dropping your poised demeanor. "Every time you'd glance at me and we'd make eye contact, I'd plead with you to come help and instead, you'd simply go back to letting all those stupid men ride your dick!"

Frustrated, you started marching towards the exit, before Bruce pulled you back, bringing you flush against him.

"Sweetheart, what did you want me to do, hmm?" He asked softly as he brushed a loose curl out of your face. "Did you want me to make a scene? Make a show of me defending your honor?"

"You know why I couldn't do that, as that would have just let whats-her-name win. Tell me, did you want her to win love? You got the last laugh didn't you?" He asked with a smirk in his voice.

Huffing, you released your self from his hold before saying, "That doesn't mean I don't have the right to be upset. You should have heard all the lies she was spewing, talkin' 'bout how you used to take her out on dates all the time, but I know that's a lie because you're quite literally a workaholic."

As the two of you exited the building, Bruce helped you settle into the limo, before you proceeded to sit as across from him, intentionally not giving him your attention.

Bruce sighed, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, as his eyes met yours.

"Darling… I understand why you're upset with me. I should have been more outspoken and defended you, rather than trying to appear neutral. I came off as if I was scolding you, which isn't what you needed at a time in which you were facing a lot of scrutiny," clutching your hands he continued, "I'm sorry for letting you down my love, I promise to do better…be better for you and for us," he finished , pressing kisses along your knuckles.

Shaking your head, you let go off his hands, crossing your arms and looking down with a slight pout, wanting to simmer in your annoyance for a little longer.

Picking up on this, Bruce sank to his knees in front of you, drawing your attention from the floor onto him.

"Can I make it up to you my love?" He asked, as he peered up at you with his hands on your ankles.

Arousal flowed through your body as you looked down at his glassy eyes and took in his needy expression, as well as the way he's graze roomed over you, not sure what part of your body to fixate on.

Slowly lifting up your dress, Bruce peppered kisses along your thigh, sucking, biting and squeezing, leaving you flustered.

"You're always such a tease," you said with a breathy moan, hands flying to tug on his hair, causing him to groan.

He continued kissing his way towards where you needed him most, your dress now bunch up around your waist as he layed kisses onto your clit, grunting when he felt how you'd soaked through your panties.

"All this for me sweetheart?" he asked, tugging your panties to the side before he dragged his tongue along your pussy. "Fuck baby, you taste as sweet as always."

Your hands tightened in his hair as your legs quivered. Arching your back, you began thrusting your hips, trying to fuck yourself on his mouth.

Grinning, Bruce spread your legs wider before sliding two fingers into your cunt, slowly thrusting in.

"Please, please, please," you whined, trying to fuck his fingers deeper into you.

Sucking your clit, Bruce thrust his fingers fully into your cunt, fucking you slowly as he picked up momentum. Peering up at you with a dazed expression, he smirked as he frantically started fucking your pussy, causing you to come all over his fingers as your pussy kept on spasming.

Your back arched as you cried, tears pricking your eyes. "Oh fuck, Bruce…"

He kept going, fucking you threw your orgasm, "Come on love, you've gotta give me one more."

Lapping at your clit and sliding a third finger into your cunt, he spread your legs wider as you squirted your come all of his face, sobbing as you desperately tried to get away from his clutches.

Easing off, Bruce licked his way through your folds, taking care to clean up as much of your come as he could. Slowly, he withdrew his fingers from your cunt, before he sucked them into his mouth, groaning at your sweetness.

Completely spent, you gotten help but smile as you stared down at home, slowly calming down as you regained control of your breathing.

"I'm still mad at you," you said playfully, allowing him to clean you up with the towels left at the complimentary station.

˙✦ CHAPTER 2: In Your Embrace

Pairing ᯓᡣ𐭩 dick grayson x plus size fem black reader

synopsis ᯓᡣ𐭩 Dick Grayson's father called him the last time you guys were together, and ever since you've been drifting apart as it seems Dick is pulling away from you. Choosing to come to the aid of your very dear friend, you decide to stop in at his apartment, where you both have realizations that could change the trajectory of your relationship.

word count + warnings ᯓᡣ𐭩 fluff + angst, panic attack (but not labelled), flashbacks, early stages of relationship (aren't actually together), signs of a depressive episode || 4.2k words

part 2/4

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series masterlist | masterlist

"The Penguin — a known Gotham criminal who recently fled to Blüdhaven — has recently been apprehended by local vigilante Nightwing, after the criminal went on a crime spree across the city's downtown, in which the mayor estimates shall take close to a year to rebuild…"

As you prepped your breakfast you couldn't help tune out the news station, eyebrows scrunched in concentration so as not to overcook your food (though to be honest, the dark atmosphere that had engulfed your apartment ever since the first snowfall wasn't helping much at all either, especially as you'd been looking forward to the winter season).

After a particularly long afternoon shift at the radio station, you encountered the snowfall as you walked past Gotham park, admiring the way the lights and the stars twinkled against Gotham's inky night sky.

With the snowfall, it was time for the Christmas festivities to begin, although you couldn't help but admit that you were a little late to the party.

After setting up your Christmas tree and decorations last night — which ashamedly took you much longer than you'd originally planned for — you sent Dick a text before passing out, asking if the two of you were still on for tonight's annual dinner.

You hadn't seen each other since his father's abrupt call three weeks, ago, with his texts slowly tricking out, before eventually stopping a week and a half ago.

I wonder what he his father ended up wanting from him?

The question continued to float through your mind as you sat down to eat your breakfast, turning on a rerun of your favorite show.

Today is going to be a long day, you thought.

This become more apparent as you listed off the things you'd need to do before the day's end: your segment at the station, some last minute Christmas shopping, and then of course your dinner with Dick.

"Buzz!"

Looking down at your phone, you glanced at the message illuminated on your screen: Hey, don't think I'll be able to meet for a while. Merry Christmas, xoxo.

Frowning, you started typing out a reply, before sighing, "…I guess we can just reschedule…" you muttered.

Has Dick ever texted you so…dryly like that before?

Thinking back to past message threads — heck, the first time you guys even started texting — you couldn't remember a time in which he ever been so bland.

Hmm, I think I'll just quickly pass by, check on him for a few minutes.

Shaking your head to clear your mind of the the doubts that had infiltrated it, you blocked out all distractions as you made your way to work, the album Promise by Sade being the soundtrack for your short journey.

At the station, you and the team were able to celebrate the milestone of highest grossing listeners since the beginning of your segment, as well as for the first time in 3 years for the station.

To celebrate (asides from the small party held in the stations lounge), your segment decided to spotlight legends like D'Angelo, while also shout outing new and upcoming artists like Khamari.

"So everyone, what's your take? Do you think artists like Khamari deserve to be in talks with icons like D'Angelo (may his soul rest in peace)? Share your thoughts with us across all our platforms and don't forget to tune in next time! Happy holidays!"

Seeing as the segment had garnered a lot more attention than was originally expected, you'd been gifted more time off, so today marked your last day working until after Boxing Day, giving you a good two weeks off to enjoy the holidays.

Packing up, you made a quick list of the things you'd need to do and purchase before you headed over to Dick's, deciding to surprise him with a care basket and his pizza from his favorite restaurant.

As you walked through the festive streets of Gotham, snowflakes brushing your face, you couldn't contain the awe that lit up your face as you took in the various Christmas decorations that now adorned your city: the giant Christmas tree in Gotham park, the Christmas lights hanged across buildings down at the shopping district, and of course the skating rinks that popped up over the different ponds.

You can't remember the last time your truly felt the Christmas spirit, with it probably being the last Christmas you spent with your father.

Ever since his passing, it has always felt as though there wasn't any point in celebrating the holidays, this only being exacerbated when your mom's depressive episodes got worse, and you had to be sent into foster care as she sought the help she needed.

Your mom's never quite fully healed, but she's gotten to that point in her life where his death doesn't constantly eat away at her soul, plucking pieces away from her, segments at a time.

It's rather strange really, you can't recall what exactly brought that spark back into your world.

Hell, you can't even remember the last time you felt this much happiness course through you.

What exactly...snapped into place for me to start smiling again? You pondered, not quite sure as to what the change had been.

One day you were a recluse, the next a quiet spirit with a loud personality that was simply bursting at the seams to be recognized.

You aren't sure what or whom was responsible for this drastic change in your life, but to whatever you owe your thanks to, you shall always be grateful of the fact that you were able to adjust your sails and continue moving with the wind.

Blinking to wake from your daze, you continued your journey to the shops as you took in the atmosphere around you, people watching and eavesdropping on conversations that peaked your interest.

"Did you hear about what The Penguin did downtown? I heard things got so bad, Nightwing had to call in help from Batman."

"The Batman?! Yikes…that's means it was worse that I thought…"

"Right? I heard the death toll was a little below a hundred, but there's still a lot more people who were admitted to nearby hospitals…"

The bystanders' words drifted off the further away you walked away from them, however the conversation stirred something in your memory as you recalled bits and pieces from today's morning news; the sound of sirens flooding your speakers; the news anchor retelling the list of property that was destroyed; the updated death toll; Nightwing and Batman…

Nightwing and Batman…Nightwing and Batman…Nightwing…

Jolting out of your stupor, your veered out of the way as a cyclist zoomed past you, remembering that you had to make hast with the rest of your shopping to avoid travelling to Blüdhaven at an ungodly hour.

At the mall, you picked up the following items to include in his care basket: a weighted blanket, slippers, a mug, a candle, a pajama set for the two of you to match, an owl plushie, festive themed socks, and a container of chocolate chip ice cream.

Next, you finished buying his Christmas presents, as well as presents for your friends as you all would be having a dinner on Christmas eve.

Hurrying home, you quickly dropped off the gifts you'd purchased, making a mental note to wrap them later. You then called into Dicks' favorite restaurant placing an order for 4 pizzas which you'd pick up on the way to his place.

Deciding to quickly shower and change as you waited for your uber, you decided to wear a cozy but stylish outfit, so that you wouldn't look too casual.

Mama always did say there's no such thing as being overdressed you thought to yourself as you gazed at your curvy body in the mirror, admiring the way the outfit accentuated all your features.

Finishing off your look with a simple makeup routine, you grabbed everything you needed and made your way to the uber which was already waiting for you outside.

The journey to Blüdhaven wasn't as long as you'd anticipated, but long enough to allow you to calm the nerves that had suddenly made their way to your stomach.

You and Dick had drifted apart, and you had a feeling it wasn't due to normal circumstances.

What had happened that had caused Dick to pull away from me? You questioned, lost in what direction your relationship (if you could call it that) was going.

Sighing, you sunk back into your chair as you let thoughts of your relationship engulf you.

You were scared. The type of scared that had your heart beat picking up pace, your palms getting sweaty as you fidgeted for something to hold while you scrunched up your face, eyebrows drown in and your lips downcast in a frown.

You'd never been in a serious relationship, only having ever really gone on dates. This meant that everything you had with Dick was new territory for you, especially as you weren't used to being courted, having flowers given to you randomly just because someone felt like it, or long conversations while star gazing.

It was weird having someone know you as well as you knew yourself…it made your uncomfortable in the sense that you had no familiarity with the situation, so you kept Dick at an arms length, shielding yourself from any potential hurt that could come your way.

Counterproductive, I know, but what's a girl to do when the guy she likes is an enigma?

Now that you really thought about it…you and Dick were close, no questions asked, but you'd only reached a level of closeness where you knew him at a level slightly deeper than what one would call surface level.

You knew he struggled with setting a good example for his siblings, and constantly took on other people's burdens as he ignored his own.

Despite this, you'd never really been fully welcomed into the mind of Dick Grayson, which is what realized what you were waiting for from Dick: his complete and utter trust in you.

Arriving at his apartment, you let yourself in with the key he'd given to you a few months ago after you started frequenting his place.

Walking in, you were met with complete and utter darkness. Flicking on the light, you blinked rapidly as you let your eyes adjust to the change, before letting your gaze travel around his apartment.

The living room looked as though it hadn't been occupied for a while, the couch missing half tossed blankets, the TV screen not displaying any comedy movies, and lastly the coffee table not being updated with the latest issues of Dick's current reads.

Directing your gaze to the kitchen and dining table, a frown colored your face as you took in the dirty dishes piled up in the sink, as well as the containers strewn around the place haphazardly.

Dick's such a clean freak, he'd never leave his kitchen in such a state…

Choosing not to question it to much, you took of your shoes, walked deeper into his apartment, and connected to his Bluetooth speakers.

Queuing up songs, you got to work on his kitchen, starting with washing the dirty dishes, putting away plates and cups, and lastly wiping down the counter tops.

Sliding your finger against one of the surfaces, you realized that the space hadn't been lived in for a while, seeing as it was normally cleaned weekly.

As you were about to start working on dusting and wiping the rest of the surfaces, you heard whining coming from Dick's bedroom. Walking down the hallway, you peered around the corner as you found Haley at Dick's door, scratching the wood as she whimpered.

Picking her up, you couldn't help but coo as she barked cutely once she saw you.

"Hmm…okay now hold on," you laughed, as she made moves to lick your face.

Placing her down, you continued, "Okay let me finish cleaning this place up a little then I'll play with you. Okay sweetie?"

Nuzzling up to you she barked as she wagged her tail and made her way to her bowl, lapping up her dinner as you continued to work on dusting and cleaning the rest of the apartment.

Shrugging off your coat and placing it in his coat closet (which thank the Lord was already organized), you grabbed his mopping tools and got to work on cleaning the floors.

Sighing once you'd finished, you dropped down onto his couch as you let yourself cool down from your exertion.

Recalling when he'd last found you in one of your lowest of lows, a smile couldn't help but form on your lips as you recalled the way he turned into your in person cleaner when he went about cleaning and tidying your apartment, before he then cooked the both of you dinner (who doesn't love a man that can cook). Once you'd finished and you'd eaten your favorite desert, the two of you went cruising around Gotham in pajamas as you told him everything that had been on your mind.

You'd ended up overlooking Gotham River as tears streamed down your face as you finally broke down, Dick holding you in his embrace as he soothed you.

That night wasn't the first night he'd been by your side, and it most definitely was not the last.

It however, was the night in which you'd confided to him about the extent to which your father's passing had affected you, and the manner in which your father had passed.

Dick had listened, truly listened, providing you a shoulder to lean on in your moment of need.

Now it was your turn to look after him, knowing that if the roles were reversed, he wouldn't hesitate to be by your side.

The question now is what exactly am I helping him shoulder…

Groaning, you pushed yourself up into standing, walking towards Dick's bedroom with Haley in tow.

You'd already rung his phone, with it going straight to voicemail, indicating that he was most likely at home due to him never going out without it.

"I just always want to be on standby you know," he'd once said when you'd asked why he always had his phone on his person.

Standing outside his bedroom door, you inhaled deeply before exhaling with as much calmness as you could.

Knocking, "Dick?" You called, uncertainty coating your voice.

Silence.

Waiting another few seconds, you knocked again, louder this time.

Now a groan sounded from the other side of the door, slightly pained as if the action itself took a lot of energy to perform.

Using this as your sign to enter, you turned the knob on the door as you let yourself in.

Immediately, a strong odor of blood and rubbing alcohol met your nose, as you scrunched up your face on impulse.

Letting your eyes adjust to the darkness, you let your eyes roam over the space, taking in Dick's form lying in his king's sized bed, some of his sheets thrown aimlessly on the floor.

Next, your eyes caught on the first aid kit laying on his nightstand, as well as the bottle of painkillers situated next to it.

Lastly, you took in the way dark shades of red were streaked across the floor near his window, as well as at the entrance of his bedroom.

Bending down, you closely examine the streaks, concluding that it was the source of the strong metallic odor in the room. Essentially, the streaks were remnants of Dick's blood.

"Dick…" you started as you made your way towards him, "Is everything okay?"

Ugh, why the fuck would I ask that of course everything is not okay?!?! I mean, what person with blood streaks in their room is fine?

Slipping the covers off his face, you gasped as you took in the plum coloring on his faces, as well as the tinges of cherry red that littered the different cuts on it.

Moaning softly, Dick grimaced as you softly ran your fingers across a cut across his lips, mumbling something incorrigible.

As you made a move to remove even more the cover, his hand lunged forward and tightened around your wrist.

"Huh, you know something told me that I'd regret giving you my spare key," he joked unamused, "I appreciate you checking on me but I'll be fine. I'd rather be…alone right now though."

Scoffing at the scratchy tone of his voice, you raised the back of your harm to his forehead.

He has a fever…

Motivated now, you yanked off the rest of the covers, determined to get a full picture of Dick's condition.

As you let your eyes fall on him, your jaw silently dropped the more your perused his body.

As you regarded the scars engraved across his broad back, some fresh, but most old, tears couldn't help but form as you felt a little bit of your heart shatter.

No…not him.

Inching forward slightly, you let your hands graze a few, before drawing back once you heard Dick's sharp intake of breath.

"Please," Dick pleaded, voice cracking, his gaze dropped from yours.

Enlacing your hand with his, you gave it a soft squeeze as you pulled away, grabbing Haley as you went.

In the kitchen, you turned on the kettle as you sat down, contemplating how to proceed.

I know he doesn't want me to see him in his...state, but I can't leave him like this?

Fuck…what would he do??

Once you'd left his room and closed his door, Dick buried himself under his covers, intent on hiding from the world…at least just for a little bit longer.

He didn't know where to start his explanations from. How the hell was he supposed to explain to you that he was the vigilante Nightwing, and after the Penguin's recent attack, he'd acquired the worst injuries to date since his arrival in Blüdhaven , with the crime spree in downtown disrupting the meticulous balance he'd worked painstakingly to create.

He was ashamed.

He'd let down the city, having not acted fast enough, and when he did act, not with enough data to properly formulate an effective strategy.

After him and Batman had been able to gain control after a brutally long weekend of failed back up plans, he'd briefly been in Gotham to receive treatment for his injuries.

Now, back at his apartment, asides from healing, he was set on stewing in his failures, the events of that weekend on loop in his mind as he recounted every single second; every single mistake that he made.

Dick appreciated that you'd come all this way to see him, but he didn't know where to start in terms of confessing his real identity.

He'd planned on telling you right before he asked you to be his girlfriend, but now…now he wasn't even sure if he should let you into his world.

Everything that had happened was a wake up call to Dick that he could be a danger to you…that by association, your life too could be in danger.

Stepping out of the shower an hour late, he run a towel through his hair as he continued entertaining the chaos in his mind, seeds of uncertainty and insecurity sprouting within him.

Sighing he dropped the towel onto his bed as he stepped out of the room in only his pajama pants, his stomach growling.

As he neared the kitchen, the distinct smell of marina sauce and cheese hit his nose, causing his stomach to growl even louder. Stopping in his tracks as he spotted you, his gaze landed on you standing besides the oven as you pulled out the pizzas that you'd heated.

"Guess who finally decided to come out of hiding?" you teased as you grabbed a mug from the cupboard, "Come have some tea first. It's chamomile, so it should help you as you're resting."

Seamlessly moving around the kitchen, you continued prepping for dinner as Dick sat down quietly at the kitchen island, watching you work with an unreadable expression.

Tossing him a bottle of water once he was finished, you started setting the island for dinner, as you retrieved the remaining two pizzas, as well the orange juice which you'd squeezed as the first batch was being heated.

Seating down next to him, you grabbed slices of pizza from the various one's spread along the kitchen island, turning to him as you beckoned for him to do the same.

Taking a bite of one of your slices, you regarded Dick with a blank stare as you chewed, swallowing, before washing it down with a gulp of your orange juice.

Wiping the back of your mouth with your sleeve, you stated simply, "By the way, if you're wondering where your suit is, I've placed it on the drying rack in the laundry room."

Roughly dragging his gaze up to yours, Dick took in the twinkle in your eye, as a small smile dotted your face.

20 minutes ago

"Damn, this boy really hasn't done his laundry in days," you remarked as you carried a basket of clothes to Dick's laundry room, "You know what…scratch that, those two other baskets seem to suggest he hasn't done his laundry in a month," you scoffed, sighing as you knew you had your work cut out for you.

Normally I wouldn't stoop to such lows to help someone, pft, let alone a man. But dammit…I'd be lying if I said I've ever since Dick look that depressed before.

As you rummaged through the baskets of dirty laundry, you paused as a stark blue caught your eye.

"Hmm, I've never seen Dick wear…" you started as your words cut off.

Pulling the piece of fabric from the depths of the basket, you looked closer as you realized what you had in your hands was none other than Nightwing's suit — as in Nightwing…Blüdhaven's beloved vigilante…

Now

"Sweetheart…I-I…" Dick uttered, his breaths now labored, "I was going to tell you, I promise I was going to tell you," he continued, frantic now, his eyes wide and panicked.

"Hey, hey, hey. Relax, it's okay I believe you," you said as you stood to stand next to him, cupping his face in your hands as you smiled.

Gripping your wrists, Dick dropped his head as tears sprung in his eyes, shame warming his cheeks as he sharp intakes of air persisted.

Sniffling, "Huh, you know its funny, " he chuckled bitterly, "I thought you'd be the only person that I'd never let down but I guess I had to screw that up too."

Grabbing his chin, you regarded the way his eyes glimmered with his unshed tears, as he tried his best to reel his emotions in.

Despite his efforts, a tear managed to escape, as you watched it drip down his cheek, and fall between the space of you two.

Softly, you released your hold in his cheeks, placed a hand on his shoulder, the other the back of his head, proceeding to gently direct his face to the crook of your neck.

Running your hand through his locks, you gently started humming — the same tune he'd hummed every single time you'd broken down in his embrace.

Today however, it was him in your arms, finally succumbing to the feeling of weight that had been pressing down on his chest for the thousands of seconds he'd lived life feeling as though it was his responsibility to help people rid their burdens, and in turn, not pose a burden to anyone around him.

Now, as he finds himself in your embrace, Dick Grayson confronts the feelings of inferiority, insecurity and responsibility that have been plaguing his heart, most of all, his relationships with not only himself, but by extension those who he held dear to his heart.

Somehow, from the moment his tears began falling in earnest and his heart cracked open as his brain scrambled to get a hold of his emotions, to now when he found himself cuddled in your embrace on the couch (pizza long forgotten), Dick had managed to shed light on years worth of feelings…feelings that no one should be shouldering alone.

"Baby," Dick started after a bout of silence, voice hoarse after his breakdown, "I want to apologize for not being committed to courting you."

"I don't want you to tie yourself to me out of pity, or appreciate of affection that in no shape or form is deserving of your reciprocation," Dick continued, "I will not lie and say that I am not a broken man, because I think I've been broken for some time."

"Despite this, darling, I promise to earn your love in such a way only you would deserve," Dick finished, planting soft kisses along your jaw.

"Thank you, angel." he murmured as he nipped a part of your neck, causing you to giggle.

"For what Grayson?" you asked, voice slightly breathy now.

"For staying by my side," Dick replied, planting a soft kiss on your cheek before burrowing further into your embrace, choosing to block out the chaos of the world, if not for forever, but just for a little while longer.

INTRODUCING...SOLACE

You've been living your entire life in solitude after going through a traumatic childhood that rewired your views of life, and most of all yourself. That all changes when you meet Dick Grayson, the one person you can trust to give you solace.

The two of you have been getting closer lately, but have you been able to get close enough to bear your deepest secrets with him, and his with you?

MOODBOARDS

Dick Grayson

y/n - [❀]

CHAPTERS

Chapter 1: Solace

Chapter 2: In Your Arms

Chapter 3:

Chapter 4:

✎ CHAPTER 1: Welp This Is Gonna Be Interesting...

NOTICE: This is basically an introduction to an upcoming series that I plan on writing, I'll post the synopsis and moodboards soon. The main trope is gonna be academic rivals to lovers, so I hope y'all like it!

Word Count: 956

Part 1/8

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Your gaze snagged onto light blue irises across the eyes, holding their stare as you let yourself drown in the darkness that clouded yours.

Satoru Gojo and you had always been rivals. In elementary school he'd beaten you at becoming top of the class by two points, with the moment devastating you because of how long you'd kept your streak going. Since you'd started grade 1, you'd always been top of the class. That was until you weren't.

In middle school, however, you graduated top of your class, four points ahead of him — which you gloated about up until your high school graduation where you both tied, graduating at the top of your class together.

After graduation you thought you'd never have to see his conceited, cocky little smirk ever again, but imagine your surprise when you the two of you locked eyes at freshman orientation two years ago.

Now, you both were juniors and applying to intern at various law firms across the city.

This would be great news considering the fact that these internships would look amazing on your resume, however the problem with all of this is the fact that you and Gojo applied to the exact same internships. The. Exact. Same. Ones.

Slightly angered now, your brows furrowed, struggling to keep your agitation hidden from your facial expressions. Satoru Gojo always found a way to creep up on you. Whenever you thought you'd finally gained an edge on him, he'd swarm his way back right by your side, or in the lead.

Ever since you'd started uni, you'd found yourself struggling to keep up with your double major in English Lnaguage and Literature, and Psychology. Juggling two courses that all required weekly reading sessions wasn't for the weak, but you were far too deep to actually change anything.

Back to the point though, you thought that with the subjects that you'd picked, you'd be able to escape Satoru Gojo, at least having the chance to ignore his existence as you sauntered around campus.

Imagine your dismay when you walked into Personality Pysch 101 on the first day of junior year, and you locked eyes with a pair of a hue of light blue. Ever since that day you'd managed to avoid him, sitting as far away from him as possible, partnering up with other people, and even going as far to memorize when he walked into class and how long it took him to pack his things up and leave.

Satoru Gojo evoked deep feelings of insecurity and inferiority in you, feelings that you'd left behind in high school, back when you'd always be compared to the white haired boy. Every time you looked at him, you couldn't help but remember the lowest moments of your life —moments where you put down for making mistakes that the all perfect and all knowing Satoru Gojo would never make.

You'd managed to escape the feelings so far (ironic considering the fact that you're a pysch major), but here he is now, sitting three rows ahead to your left, excitement bouncing off of him at the chance to earn an internship with one of your university's most decorated professors.

Shaking your head, you cleared your thoughts, shelving them for later…oh who are you kidding, you were just going to bury those thoughts next to all your other thoughts that centered around the worst four years of your life.

"Students, I shall only be awarding this internship to the applicant that I deem most competent," said the professor, her voice echoing across the classroom walls, "Only one of you shall be end up with the position, and my decision shall be based on a variety of factors, such as your skills, and your work ethic," she continued, "Good luck to you all, and see you next class."

Murmurs erupted around the room as chairs scraped back, squeaking across the tiles. Still slightly dazed from your thoughts, you slowly packed up your things, letting yourself sit with her words for a moment.

In that instant, if you'd been paying a little bit more attention, you would have noticed the way Gojo stared as you walked past him, leaving the classroom with your jet black boho braids swishing with your every step.

Today you'd chosen to adorn yourself in a white baby doll blouse, opting for a stark red cardigan and a washed out black denim skirt. For your footwear, you sported a pair of glossy mary janes, with their heels adding a good 3 inches to your frame.

You looked good. Heck —more than just "good".

You'd always been curvy, but as you grew up, those features became even more apparent. Gojo couldn't take his eyes off of you, letting his eyes drink in your features, from the birthmark on the back of your thigh, to the way you sashayed as you made your way across the courtyard.

You glowed — captivating, yet intimidating all those around you.

Satoru had been trying for years — and with failure — to enter your inner circle, and become one of the people that did deserve your love, affection and attention.

INTRODUCING...y/n...FOR...SOLACE

You've been living your entire life in solitude after going through a traumatic childhood that rewired your views of life, and most of all yourself. That all changes when you meet Dick Grayson, the one person you can trust to give you solace.

The two of you have been getting closer lately, but have you been able to get close enough to bear your deepest secrets with him, and his with you?

✎ CHAPTER 2: Call Me the Mad Hatter, 'Cause What's Going On

Synopsis: After a small breakfast, you find your stomach growling during one of your lectures with Gojo who comes to your aid—once again. This interaction causes you to go down memory lane, with your interaction lingering in your mind for the rest of the day.

Content: college au, slowburn, one-sided academic rivals to lovers, banter, and oblivious!reader and cocky!gojo, light angst, known each other since childhood, unknown feelings

Word Count: 2.6k

part 2/8

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"Beep-beep-beep!" The alarm blared, jolting you roughly out of your sleep.

Groaning, you reluctantly opened your eyes, letting them take in the sunlight that had bathed your room in a stunning honey yellow glow.

Letting your gaze roam around the room, you took in the state of your bedroom floor, desk, and closet as a small smile slowly crept up your lips, memories of the previous night re-entering your mind and causing a wave of joy to wash over you.

The girls—Nobara, Mei Mei, Shoko, Yoruichi, and Michiko—had come over last night, bringing with them beer (and a 6 pack of Sprite since you don't drink), takeout from your favorite Chinese place—and of course the latest gossip.

You'd just picked yourself back up from a weekend in the dumps—thank you period feels—and your ever kind and disgustingly over bearing friends who you loved dearly couldn't help but try to help.

During the course of the night, you and your girls shared laughter that made your stomach ache as you gasped for air.

Despite your moment of giggles that would only stop 10 minutes after the joke, you also allowed your tears to fall as you voiced the concerns and insecurities that had been nagging at your spirit.

To brighten up the party's spirit, however, you all awwwed when talking about Michiko and her new boyfriend, who were the cutest golden retriever x black cat combo ever.

With nothing but happiness coursing through your veins, you closed your eyes last night looking forward to the coming days, with a feeling that something good was brewing in the air.

Back to present, though, after letting the onslaught of last nights memories pass, you started getting ready for the day.

To start off your morning, you decided to finish packing your bag—a vintage steal you'd found at your local secondhand store—and then quickly have a 10 minute brain dump session to have a quick check in with your mental pysche.

Once you were done with your journal sesh, which quite frankly made you feel like a new woman, you jumped into your shower. Unfortunately for you though, your heater was broken—for the fourth time this month—with its arctic temperature reminding you of your childhood trips to Michigan.

Deciding on having a quick shower instead, you were in and out at lightning speed, cause who the hell wants to deal with artic temperatures at 7 in the morning?!?

Glancing at your clock mounted about your bed frame, you slowed down your movements as you realized you'd earned yourself an additional 20 minutes after your quick shower.

After getting ready, you allowed yourself to check out our outfit of the day in the mirror, admiring the way your clothes hugged each and every single one of your curves, as well as the way the pieces of jewelry you picked out twinkled in the sunlight.

Once you'd taken a few selfies, you started making your way to your favourite cafe, Soleil Patisserie, making a mental note to clear up the dismal state your room was in once you got back.

Today your schedule was packed, with ENGL 30158 Modern Horror at 9 am, in which you then had to sprint to your next class halfway across the campus for your 11:30 am (PSYC 40600 Social Psychology), and then lastly a seminar on African Literature at King Julius's hall from 3:30 - 5:30 pm.

Despite your long day ahead, you still hummed along to Jonny by Faye Webster, a warm energy brewing within you.

Still not able to shake the thought that today would be a good day, you walked towards the cafe with a pep in your step.

Much to your dismay, and definitely not giving "Today Is Gonna Be A Good Day", at 12 pm, you found yourself sitting in your lecture clutching your stomach as it grumbled. "Grrr," sounded out around you, and you could swear you saw a few heads incline in your direction.

The drink and small pastry you'd order at Soleil Patisserie hadn't done much to satiate your hunger, leaving you starving after you'd finished your 9 o'clock.

You had overestimated your hunger tolerance, and you now found yourself learning your head down against your desk, with heat crawling up your neck and your eyes squeezing shut as embarrassment washed over you.

As you sat in your feels, you heard rustling near you as someone took a seat on the chair to your right, their warmth only adding to the heat that had crawled up your neck.

Lifting your head up slightly, your eyes snagged onto a pair of pale, icy, blue ones, causing your stomach to flutter and a damp sweat to break out across your forehead.

"I know this has you cracking up doesn't it," you murmured, turning just enough to keep away from his sharp gaze.

A soft laugh escaped him—low, cocky—before something thudded onto your desk.

"Now, why would you think that princess?" he said, voice smooth and teasing as he leaned back in his chair like a king would a throne.

The two of you hadn't really spoken since coming back from your mid-semester break. You'd see him in lectures, laughing with his friends, always surrounded—too busy to bother with you. The entire thing struck home a little bit too hard, especially with how it reminded you of high school.

"Don't call me that," you said, though your voice betrayed you, warmth seeping through it. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, as you dragged the item he'd dropped onto your desk towards you. It was one of the sandwiches you'd been eying at Soleil Patisserie before you made the—very dumb decision—to pick up a small pastry instead.

As you fumbled with the wrapper as if it might save you from the awkwardness of the situation, Gojo let out a small sigh—quiet and amused—before he took it from your hands and unwrapped it in one clean motion before passing it back, along with a bottle of water from his bag.

You despised that the small gesture had caused emotions to stir in your stomach, and your chest to tighten, causing you to tug at your collar as you attempted to tame the heat that had cemented itself in your cheeks.

"So sweetheart," Gojo said, voice low enough for it to resonate deep within your belly, "you aiming for Foutley's internship?"

Caught off guard with the question, you blinked rapidly before setting your gaze on him. "Why? You planning to apply too?"

He laughed—full on throwing your head back—like I was the crazy one. "Me? Nah. That's more your thing, isn't it?"

He was grinning, but something in his tone made your chest tighten. If he wasn't applying…then why did it sound like he knew you would be?

Gojo doesn't know you…or…

As you caught yourself staring at him—maybe, kinda, lowkey for a bit too long—you quickly snatched your gaze away right before he met your eyes.

Smirking now, he leaned his head back as he let his gaze settle upon you, roaming as if he shelving every detail about you for later.

A small smile colored his lips as they raised slightly, causing you to drop your head even more as you focused your attention on the bottle in front of you.

"What?" you queried, fumbling with the bottle cap to hide from his eyes, "Is there something on my face?"

His smirk widen, as he perused through your features one more time before turning away, "Yeah, you've got some sauce on your cheek. It's like, everywhereee" he said with exaggeration in his voice.

"Ugh, why are you always like this Gojo?" you snapped. "I thought you'd have grown out of your assholishness by now," you said, getting angry now—more at how you let him get under skin, but nevertheless, still mad.

Letting out a low chuckle that left your skin tingly, and butterflies in your tummy—weird but okay—he focused his attention on the professor, immersing himself in what he was saying all the way until the end of the class.

The cold campus air penetrated your skin as you slowly walked back towards the dorms, having finished up with the seminar.

Clay Pigeons by Michael Cera blasted through your airpods as you took in the scenic view ahead of you—the pink and orange hues that dusted the sky laid out a stunning canvas, one that you couldn't help but admire.

As you walked back to your apartment, your mind couldn't help but wander back to your moment with Satoru…Gojo in the lecture hall. How he'd so willingly come to your aid. Somewhere between campus and your apartment, you found yourself getting lost in your first interaction with him.

It hadn't crossed your mind in years—the day you met Gojo Satoru.

Elementary School - Grade 3

"[❀], have you ever like, maybe thought about speaking more?" someone asked, their features being unclear except for their stark jet black hair, and condescending smile.

"Yeah. Like I get that you're…you know, but you can't be a mute forever?" another quipped, her curly brown braids and slight smirk being her only deciphering features.

"My parent's said that you've been depressed since your mom died, and that you'll never be the same," commented a boy as he got all up in your face, his hot and heavy breath fanning against your nose. "Is that why you're so weird? Cause you're mom's gone?"

As your lips trembled and you balled up your fists, trying your best to keep your cool, you felt a tall domineering presence settle behind you, their warmth providing comfort to your otherwise cold frame.

"What are you three doing?" Gojo asked with a bite in his tone. "If she doesn't want to answer your questions, then she doesn't have to," he continued stepping forward slightly to block you from their view.

Raising his voice slightly, "You know my mom told me that grief is a weird thing. Everyone experiences it differently, feels it differently." As you raised your head timidly, "My mom also says that we should care for those around us. As Ben the Cow once said, "A strong man stands up for himself, a stronger man stands up for others."

"Oh…I'd never thought about it like that [❀]. I'm so sorry. I'll be better about my words next time," said the boy meekly, dropping his head until his locs covered the heat that had crept up his face.

"Yeah, we're sorry too," murmured the two other girls, as they slightly shrank under Gojo's fierce gaze.

Dropping your head again, trying your best to suppress the tears that had welled up in your eyes, you softly muttered, "Thank you, Gojo," hoping that your words expressed your gratitude.

Your mom had died early on during the summer. She'd always been your rock, your cheerleader, and most of all the one person you leaned on the most.

On the other hand, your dad was always busy at his law firm, so you didn't see him as much, hence why it was you and your mom against the world.

The circumstances around her death were still muddy to you. One morning, Carla, your housekeeper answered your door to be met with two police officers. As you sat atop of the stars, you overheard the words "collision", "drunk driver" and of course…"she died on impact".

Your mother's passing had heavily hit your family. How could it not? Your dad took a leave of absence from his law firm for a while, and dropped you off at your grandmas house. Every time you see him now, he always a funny smell on him, with his eyes being a bloodshot red.

You still love your dad—even more now—what you don't understand though is why he's been keeping you at a distance.

Blinking your tears away and shaking away the thoughts of your mother's death, you looked up and regarded the smiling boy towering over you.

"Call me Satoru," he said, his smile widening as he pulled you close to him and enveloped you in a hug. "If you ever need anything, just let me—" he started, before his friend Suguru called him over.

"Satoru! Hurry up we're making teams! You can bring her if you want, we need the numbers!" Suguru yelled, before turning back around to argue with another boy as they fought over who got Satoru on their team.

"I don't really want to play right now," you said softly as your voice rasped, causing Satoru to lean down closer to hear you. "I think I'll sit this one out."

Smiling tenderly, Satoru said, "That's fine, you can play with us next time," he said as he started taking off towards his friends, "Oh and don't cry so much, you're too pretty for that," he called as he sprinted towards them, causing your pulse to quicken, and a smile to erupt across your face as you turned around and started skipping back to your classroom.

When was the last time you'd skipped so freely…

Present Day - Junior Year

A soft smile had settled across your features are you stood at your sink, remembering your previous encounter with Gojo.

Wait—when had your dislike for him started. Could you even call it dislike?

Before you could allow yourself to wonder down a rabbit hole of you and Gojo's history with each other, you grabbed a can of Coke from your fridge before making your way to your bedroom.

You had a quaint apartment downtown which was a 10 minute walk away from your campus.

With one bedroom, one bath, a small kitchen as well as a living room, you'd managed to score the apartment with a discount of rent seeing as worked at your landlord's wife's boutique during your Sophomore year.

Having grown to love your apartment, with all the furniture and decorations you'd already bought for it so far, you hated when it got messy.

Planning out your attack, you decided to start with a surface level clean, picking up any trash laying around.

Once you'd picked up the empty take out boxes, beer bottles and Sprite cans, you tossed them into your garbage bag before picking up other trash you found around your room, like crumpled papers, dead pens and empty chips bags.

After that, you moved onto your desk, which to your dismay, had been a mess since last week, especially as and after you wrote your essay for your Intro to Ethics class.

It was a grueling 20 page essay in which you survived purely off of sugar. It wasn't due until later this week, but you still wanted to leave space for your TA to give you feedback.

Since you'd already gotten rid of all the trash in your room, you focused on restoring it back to its original orderly state. Separating your pens, pencils and markers, refilling your paper and sticky note stash, and of course sanitizing both your desk and your laptop — dang you're a clean freak.

Moving onto your bookshelf, you sorted through the books that held a special place in your heart, as well as the ones that were still on your TBR (to be read list). Once you'd settled on the books you no longer wanted to keep, you made a note on your digital planner to donate them to your local library when you found time.

Lastly, it was time to tackle your personal hell—your closet.

You laid out your approach as follows: you'd start with clothes in this order—loungewear, going-out outfits, casual wear, hot-weather clothes, warm-weather clothes and cold-weather clothes—followed by shoes and accessories. As you cleaned, you'd decide whether to keep or toss each item, with anything you chose to toss being set aside for donation.

After going through your entire closet and tossing unwanted clothes into bins, you moved onto your accessories and shoes.

In one bin, below a web of necklaces, earrings, and hair clips, you spotted the corner of a book. Frowning, you dug it out from the bottom.