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#like the love between the family and friends in this movie is so insane it actually is going to drive me to madness
vvanessaives · 1 year
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no pairing in the world will ever serve as much cunt as a courier x benny one, i will die with this truth in my heart
#rena.txt#benny is bi btw you can try and tear away from me this notion but i will bring it with me in the grave#like it might be my bias for my moira/benny but like the insanity of it all makes me delirious.#this guy in a fucking checkered suit talking all weird puts a bullet through the couriers head but he's so fail cringe that they survive an#now they are hunting him down. like for me the funny thing with moira is that it's all a matter of obsession. you saw me put benny under#enemy & lover in that template but lord is it all in her head. like she wakes up after a near death experience with half of her memories#lost and pre-incident moira would've tried to get the package back only out of spite but in this case it's simply bc..she is missing a#purpose now. she doesn't remember any family or friend or personal desire beside the fact she was there to deliver a package and she doesnt#even know what's inside. retriving is the only purpose to keep on living now. that and revenge which leads to obsession. but along the way#as she discovers piece after piece of benny. retracing the road that lead him to her..obsession gets more and more intense and suddenly#he's like a lover to her like they just had a silly little lovers quarrel that ended with a bullet. and it's all in her head and ofc ALL on#sided like the only interaction is the canon meeting at the tops that leads to the canon fucking akfjskf (again very silly cringe fail of#benny to even accept fucking the person he thought he killed. i love him) and it's like. the whole road she did with this idea of meeting#him and love (lmao) but he's there now and she can't kill the revengeful part of her obsession and for a second it's all like a dream. THE#dream that lived so long in her head. the ILLUSION. but now it's all so real and the Only end here is his death and she doesn't avoid it.#she embraces it she's HAPPY to kill him to have her revenge but the obsession..the obsession never leaves. now that he dies what's left?#and what about all the lil movies of them (insane) she played in her mind? so she's crying and laughing at the same time now in a mixture o#euphoria for finally taking tf out from the world that piece of shit and pain for the end of her little mind-movie. a fight between#irreality and reality. her illusions and the cold dead body resting next to hers.#i could eviscerate this concept forever just know i love my insane lil gal
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kitscutie · 5 months
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hi! i saw your post about snow omg, can i request a coriolanus x mentor!reader where she’s similar to like clemensia but she’s more close to corio and they have a secret relationship? thank you in advance if you do this rq! love ur tsitp writings sm 🥹
snow and roses: part I (coriolanus snow x fem!reader)
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pairing: coriolanus snow x reader
warnings: none!
summary: you and coriolanus have been dating in secret for months, all it takes is one songbird for everything to come into the light.
a/n: first time writing for snow and I'm very excited about it! I've always loved the hunger games and this movie was insane in the best way so please enjoy! I will be making this a series and this is only part one so stay tuned for the rest!
word count: 2.2k
join my taglist here.
"You're going to get it Coryo, don't stress." You soothed the boy as you sat next to him. It was barely even six in the morning and the pair of you had woken up, well he had woken up and you with him as he blatantly needed your support, desperate for the Plinth Prize.
You didn't need the prize, already coming from a wealthy Capitol family and yet you felt the same hope that he would win as you would for yourself, stomach twisting into knots at the thought.
"There's good candidates Y/N, it feels as if the odds are already stacked against me." He sighed, leaning over as he sat so his elbows rested on his knees, head in his hands.
"The odds are in your favour Coryo, you're special. Different." With that he looked at you, a small smile gracing his pale lips. He leaned up kissing you gently, fully embracing the special moment before he got up from his place next to you.
"I'll see you at the Academy?" He asked, knowing you had to leave quickly back to your own house in order to change but also in order to avoid the suspicions of your own family who had no idea of your relationship with Snow.
"Of course." You replied, also standing up and pulling on last nights clothes as you left.
You studied the dark an empty halls of his house, ensuring Grandma'am was nowhere to be seen before you quickly walked to the door, exiting un-noticed until Tigris came around the corner, seemingly equally in a rush and holding a shirt you knew must be for Coriolanus.
"Oh, hello Y/N." She smirked as you both stopped, unsure how to approach the conversation. She was one of the only people who knew something was going on between the pair of you and still she wasn't quite sure what it was.
"Hi Tigris. You look lovely today." You said quietly, feeling like a scolded child even though you hadn't done anything wrong.
"Well if you're here I can only assume Coryo is awake, I'll see you again I assume?" She replied.
"Yes and yes." You answered awkwardly before hurrying away once again, letting out a sigh of relief as you heard her enter the house. You could only hope she wouldn't mention your interaction to Coriolanus.
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You walked into the Academy at the same time as you did everyday, conveniently when Coriolanus would also show up.
"Coryo!" You yelled, spotting him across the room. He turned his head to you as though it was a surprise to see you, it wasn't.
"Y/N. What a pleasure." He smiled with his typical Snow charm, allowing you to link your arm with his.
"How are you feeling?" You asked him, thumb gently rubbing his bicep through his shirt. You rounded the corner past the food and yet you both avoided it for different reasons. You having already been fed by your family and their lavish lifestyle and he too nervous to even look at it.
"Never felt better." He replied with false confidence but no one else around you had to know that.
"Snow always lands on top." You teased as you entered the hall, spotting your friends if that's what you could call them stood in the centre of it all, as they usually did, talking about everyone around them no doubt.
"Y/N and Coriolanus, finally some real competition has arrived." Said Arachne, a glass in her hand and a smirk on her face as she always seemed to appear in public.
"Be humble now Arachne, you never know who will be chosen." You smiled, turning on your Capitol attitude in order to fit in. You were Capitol born and raised but your family taught you to be humble and kind. It was clear this wasn't common among parents here.
"Have you tried this lamb? It's scandalous." Said Felix, it made you chuckle how he used such a word to describe food.
"Only the vulgar eat with their fingers Felix, daddy not teach you table manners?" Snarled Festus, it was as though there was always a secret competition between the two of them, never quite made clear, never making sense.
"Maybe he would've if he wasn't so busy running the country. Hey they called us here for the Plinth prize right? 'Cause I heard Doctor Gaul's in the building." Felix changed the subject, knowing he had won. It was impossible to lose as the President's son you supposed.
You hadn't noticed but now Felix had mentioned it you took in the strange atmosphere, tense and mystery lingering in the air. "That is peculiar." You said, holding onto Coryo's bicep tighter subconsciously.
"Plinth. Look at his spawn. Who would've thought you could buy your way into the Academy." Felix once again snarled, he was always filled with such anger though it seemed todays anxiety only heightened this.
"Well you can't buy class. Did you see his mothers outfit? Sorry his Ma's." Festus joked, seemingly over his small tiff with Felix.
"Dress a turnip in a ball gown and it'll still beg to be mashed." Said Coriolanus, playing into their pompous ways. You knew he didn't agree, not really.
"Don't do that we all know you like him." Arachne spat with her spider like venom, raising her eyebrows at Coriolanus.
"I don't like him Arachne, I tolerate him. He's district." Said Coriolanus and he seemed pleased with his answer as you felt him relax under your touch. You however did like Sejanus and weren't afraid to show it.
"If I hear one more time how immoral these Hunger Games are I'll put him in the arena mys- Sejanus. You made it to the Reaping for once." Festus cut himself off, caught by Sejanus himself.
"And you made it to graduation Festus, we're both shocked." Sejanus replied and you couldn't help but snicker, hiding it as you realised no one else shared the same reaction. "Y/N, always a pleasure." He smiled at you politely. You couldn't help but note the way Coryo's jaw clenched, neck twitching as he looked at you to gaze your reaction.
"As are you Sejanus." You nodded. Arachne scoffed quickly mentioning the only thing she really cared about, the prize.
"Spill it, who won the prize." She asked.
"Well, no I'm not gonna ruin my father's big day. No one here actually likes him, but they do love his money." He once again hit back at the group around him, you felt sorry for the boy. Alone in a room full of people. "You know what that's like don't you Arachne?" He dug the hole deeper and you internally smirked, grateful someone was brave enough to stand up to a powerful woman like Arachne.
As the Captiol's anthem began to play you made your way to your seats, sat next to Coriolanus you placed a kiss on his cheek and whispered 'good luck' in his ear, though you didn't really think he needed it.
Doctor Gaul's chuckle resounded around the room in a menacing echo that always managed to make you shrink into your seat.
She commended you all for being star students before untroducing the creator of the games: Casca Highbottom.
He went on to tell you all that today was not the day the prize would be given out but instead there would be one more task to challenge you all and gage your true worth. Everyone seemed confused but not Sejanus.
"What's going on?" You whispered to Coriolanus. He sensed your anxiety placing a calming hand on your knee but gave you no other response which reassured you that you had not been left completely in the dark.
"The Plinth prize will no longer be determined by who was the best grades. But by who is the best mentor in the Hunger Games." With that there was outrage, to you it was dehumanizing for the tributes, 'mentored' by people their own age but for the others they only seemed to care whether they were given someone strong or weak. A 'runt' in Arachne's words.
The reaping commenced and you couldn't help but wish to be anywhere but here. You didn't want to do this, you didn't need the money yet you were forced to have another's life in your hands.
You got a small girl from 8 named Wovey, seeing her face on the big screen left you determined, determined to help her in anyway you could on the path to being a victor. Even if that meant Coryo may lose the prize.
Snow's tribute left the room in horror, her stage presence and brutality sent shivers down your spine, though you supposed that the outer Districts had it harder and that sort of survival must be built into her.
Standing up on shaky legs you grabbed Coriolanus up from his chair and outside of the room, you needed fresh air and you needed to talk to him about what you were about to face, arguably harder than any other test the Capitol could give you.
"Slow down Y/N, I can hardly keep up." He said, words laced with worry.
"I don't believe I can do this Coryo, did you see my tribute? She's hardly eligible for school never mind to be put into an arena where she's going to be killed. She's only a child." You paced while he leant against a pillar, beginning to eat some food he a had smuggled from the buffet table.
"I'm afraid you don't have a choice Y/N." He tried to help but only made it worse as you realised you were trapped in yet another one of the Capitol's games. He seemingly realised this. "Hey, hey. If there as anyone in that room who would get that tribute, I'm glad it was you. Arachne would've given up on her by now. With you she has a fighter. A chance at surviving." He said while grabbing your wrists to stop your pacing.
"It's not that simple Coryo-" You tried but he cut you off.
"It is Y/N." He said sternly and you understood what he meant. It was either play into their games or become apart of them, no other choice. "You're a born winner Y/N, give her some of it hm?" He stared down at you as he spoke and his blue eyes while at times piercing sucked you in, heart rate lowering almost immediatley.
"Okay." You said.
"Okay." He smiled, reaching a hand around your neck to bring you into a kiss. It started off slow and caring though quickly intensified as he turned you both around so now you leant against the pillar instead of him.
His hand tightened around your neck, not enough to actually cut off air but just enough to make you feel dizzy as he pushed his body further into yours, keeping you against the cold cement and trapped in his arms.
Your mouths clashed together intensely, tongues colliding in a rhythm you though you would only ever be able to find with him in this lifetime. He was your everything, your light in a blizzard.
"Ahem." Coughed Casca, drawing the two of you away from each other with baited breaths and rosy cheeks. "Just like your father, yes we were best friends. Once." He said, and with that it felt like you weren't even in the room.
"Tell me Mr Snow, what are your plans after these games?" Casca asked.
"I hope to go onto the university sir, naturally." Coriolanus answered, pulling his waistcoat straight where it had been wrinkled by your tight grip.
"And if you fail to win the Plinth Prize, what then?" Asked Casca, it suddenly became clear to you that he knew something, just what he knew you were unsure of.
"We'd pay the tuition of course." He scoffed, insulted at Casca's insinuation even if it was true.
"Look at you, in your makeshift shirt and too tight shoes. Trying desperately to fit in when I know the Snow's don't have a pot to piss in." Casca said. You felt your own heart drop and so you couldn't imagine how Coriolanus felt, the insult to his pride was one you knew he wouldn't take well and so you grabbed his hand subtly, hiding it behind your back as to not show any sign of weakness to Casca.
"Goodluck with that poor little Songbird." He said, and with that he left. Leaving you to do damage control.
"Ignore him Coryo, he's trying to get into your head." You reassured him, moving a Snow white hair from his face. His jaw looked similar to the way it did earlier when Sejanus had so much as acknowledged your presence.
"He's right Y/N. From the moment my father died I lost. The odds were never in my favour." He spat out, though his actions didn't match his words as he gently removed your hand from his hair before beginning his exit of the Academy. "Come on now Y/N, I've got a songbird to catch." He said sarcastically.
You sped after him hoping Casca's words hadn't knocked him too much, after all, Snow lands on top and he wouldn't be the one to change that.
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TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am, @riordanness, @suvgs, @charmed-asylum
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allysunny · 4 months
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Pls pls pls friends to lovers with an ass load of pining!!! I love the trope where literally everyone but her can see that he’s in love with her and they’re basically dating without the title. She’s in love with him too but a little more guarded/scared. They have fun traditions like a book club, and Bruce gives her the princess treatment. Pls pls pls, I’d literally love you forever if you wrote this
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Obliviously in Love | Bale!Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader
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Words: 15k words
Warnings: Friends to lovers, pining, two idiots in love but way too blind to see it, Alfred being a very sassy butler (I love Michael Cane sm), possibly OOC Bruce (I've never written for him before), some angst, love confessions, Christmas! and mistletoe, eventual romance of course! Not beta, we die like Harvey Dent.
A/N: Hey everyone!!! Sorry for the delay, but as I told you, uni was kicking my ass. I'm back now, and hopefully I'll be able to write a lot!
So, this is my first Bale!Bruce request, and I'm so excited, but at the same time I'm super, super nervous because I've never written for this man in my entire life? I love this trilogy so bad and even rewatched all the movies as I was doing this, because I wanted to make sure I got him right. Sure, he's a vigilante and a billionaire and a supposed playboy, but he's also just a man, and I sort of wanted to explore that.
There's so many layers to this man, it is insane. If there's anything OOC about him, please do let me know. I swear to god I tried my best, and I hope you like the finished result.
This is my longest word so far - I'm so sorry! It was supposed to be kinda short and sweet but I just ran with it! I don't know if it was for the better or worst, but I hope you guys like it nevertheless. Again, I'm sorry if it's somewhat OOC, I tried to get everyone's personalities just right. I'm scared of not doing these movies justice. I also took some liberties with this - Bruce and Rachel don't have feelings for each other, Bruce often goes to charity galas, etc. Small things.
Also, it's set somewhat in between Batman Begins and The Dark Knight!
Anyways, enjoy!
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Bruce Wayne was a lonely man.
Not that he minded, really.
Ever since he was a child, he knew most people were after him and his family for the money. Family friends cashing in favours done ages ago, things as small as having once lent his father an umbrella, women pretending to befriend his mother to accompany her whenever she went shopping, kids at school getting closer to him only to get a peek at the famed Wayne Manor and all the wonders it hid inside.
He'd rather be alone than have such leeches around him, surrounding him like vultures, waiting for an opening.
Kids who'd mocked him would apologise profusely days later, having learned about his family, offering their friendship. Once Bruce made it clear he had no intentions of inviting anyone to his place (he was just shy, really), they'd take back their so called “friendship”.
He was better off without such people.
They were few, the people he could trust. And even those he called his “friends”, he didn't trust completely. His childhood best friend, Rachel, had grown up and busied herself at the DA’s office. She reached out to him after he’d returned after all those years in training, but she was a busy woman, and Bruce had found a new passion himself – patrolling the streets of Gotham dressed up as a bat. They would talk often, but it simply wasn’t the same. They were still friends of course – childhood could link two people – but he’d changed, and so had she. No matter how well they got along, they were changed people.
So, he was back to square one, with no people to truly confide in.
There was, after all, a reason only Alfred knew of his secret identity.
No, Bruce Wayne wasn't a stranger to loneliness.
He preferred the peace and quiet of his home office to the loud ambiences of the parties thrown by pretentious people who wanted to pass by as charitable, and found that sometimes, being by himself was a better option.
Bruce Wayne could count with his hands how many “friends” he had, and how many were simply greedy bloodsuckers trying to get to his fortune.
All but you, though.
Never you.
Bruce met you a few years ago, at the bakery you used to work at.
He wasn't a regular - hell, he didn't usually eat at places like those. Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham, dined at the best restaurants - a truth universally acknowledged.
But after being stuck in traffic for about thirty minutes (he'd sent Alfred on a makeshift vacation, having miraculously been able to convince the old man to take some time for himself), he decided to exit the cab and go for a stroll.
It'd been a stressing day, with about a hundred reports coming in for him to sign at Wayne Enterprises, the prototypes for his new motorcycle had proved to be a failure, and he was simply exhausted. A walk would do him good, clear his head.
That's when he walked by the bakery, noticing the colourfully decorated cupcakes and pastries on the shelves. The pastel-coloured frostings seemed far too pretty to eat, and curiosity got the best of him, compelling him to go inside and purchase one.
That's when he first saw you.
You took a while to take his order, quickly informing him you were working all by yourself. One of your coworkers was in labour, the other on vacation. You were baking, cleaning and waitressing on your own.
Bruce was surprised, to say the least. You were taking over each station, keeping calm even under pressure and tending to each task diligently.
When asked who baked the frosted treats, you smiled and told him you baked those yourself. Apparently, it was your first time exposing them, the owner of the bakery finally giving you some leeway to try your own cakes and sweets.
“No one's tried them yet, though,” you said, sheepishly. “People don’t really want to try anything new. They’re scared my food is going to suck. I keep telling myself they’re just scared of change, you know. To keep my spirits high.”
“I hear that,” Bruce replied. If he knew anything about people, it was that they were all terrified of the unknown. “It’s Gotham – what can you do? You bump into lunatics every other day. I’ll have the one on the shop window, the one with the pink frosting.”
Your eyes sparkled then, and Bruce swore he’d do anything to see them shine again and again.
“Really?” you asked, a hopeful smile playing in your lips.
“Absolutely. It looks good.”
You gave him an enthusiastic nod and went to retrieve the cupcake, placing it on top of a small place along with a fork. He paid for the treat along with a cup of coffee and sat down on a nearby table.
Unlocking his phone, he found a few messages from Alfred, asking him if he hadn't burnt down the Manor yet. Sure, maybe he couldn't cook nor clean nor take care of himself that well, but that didn't warrant a fire brigade to go check up on him, now did it?
Burned to the ground, he texted back in a joking manner. All that's left are the red slippers I gave to you last Christmas. Hadn't you lost them? It's a miracle.
Alfred replied just as quickly.
Should've let them burn too. Hideous things.
Bruce chuckled, assuring his trusted butler all was well, and locking his phone once again.
If he looked from the corner of his eye, he could see you, nervously chewing on your lip while you looked at his plate expectantly.
Right, he thought. The cupcake.
Bruce tasted the coffee first, deciding it was far better than whatever he was drinking at his office, and slowly cut the cupcake with his fork (because why would he use his hands). HIs eyes widened once he finally bit into it.
It was good, really good. It tasted like strawberries - not that artificial strawberry flavoured crap he was sure was in most of the food out there - actual strawberries.
The frosting was sugary, but not too much that it became nauseous, and the mix of flavours melted in his mouth.
You’d approached him, breath hitched as you awaited his verdict.
“So?” You asked, after a while, giving him an apologetic smile. “How is it?”
“It’s good.”
“Really?” You graced him with the brightest of smiles, holding onto your little notepad. “You think so?”
“I know so.” Way to go, Bruce. Not corny at all. You’re the man.
Pulling the chair next to him, you sighed in relief and sat down.
“You have no idea how happy that makes me. I was so scared no one was gonna like them.”
“The people of Gotham are idiots if they don’t want to try these.” He took another bite of his cupcake and your smile only got bigger.
“Well, you said it. It’s Gotham. Even something as simple as a different coffee order will get their panties in a twist. Look at how everyone reacted to that Bat guy. He takes out a few criminals and cleans the streets, and suddenly he’s the bad guy?” you inquire.
“Bat guy?” Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah, you know! Bat guy! They’re calling him the Batman. You’ve probably seen him on TV. Black cape, black cowl, black, well, clothes?”
“Ah,” he nodded, “The Batman, yes. I might have heard of him.” Might have. “What’s his deal anyway? I think the police are calling the guy a criminal.”
You scoffed, placing a strand of hair behind your ear. “A criminal? The guy’s doing a better job than most cops. I think they’re just jealous. And pissed that someone’s not up for briberies.”
Bruce nodded, before turning to his cupcake. You thought what Batman did was right. He brimmed with pride.
“I don’t know – he sounds like your typical Arkham resident to me. Dressed like a bat, running around with a black cape?” It was practically wired into his brain by now, the way he attempted to detach his Bruce Wayne persona from his Batman one. Even if he’d just met you, even if you seemed genuine, he couldn’t help but keep up the façade. “They should probably lock him up.”
“That’s nonsense!” you exclaimed. “He’s the only one willing to do something right for this city. The only one who’s not being compensated by turning a blind eye to criminals like half of the GCPD are. The streets are safer with him around.”
So, he made you feel safe.
Well, not him – Batman did.
Bottom line was, he made you feel safe.
And wasn’t that the reason for all of this? To make Gotham a better place? To clean the streets, to give people some hope in amidst all the chaos and darkness? Wasn’t that his goal – to give Gotham citizens their city back to them, and allow them to live unruled by fear? 
“Anyway - I’m sorry, here I am, sitting next to you while you probably want to eat by yourself. Gosh, I’m so sorry. Taking care of the shop by myself makes me feel a tad lonely.” You gave him another apologetic smile (although this one did not reach your eyes), and got up, hurrying behind the counter.
For a few moments, Bruce sat in silence, eating his cupcake, and sipping from his coffee. Good stuff – nothing like the ones Alfred prepared for him, but still good.
When he glanced back up, he watched as you quickly washed some dishes, brow furrowed in concentration. He took you all in, the way you carefully rinsed every dish, ensuring it was stable on the tray nearby before moving onto the next one. Once or twice, you looked up, observing the city through the windows. He saw you sigh softly and get back to work.
To say he was intrigued was an understatement. A big one.
It wasn’t only that you were strikingly beautiful – that helped too, quite a lot – but there was something more to you that Bruce couldn’t really pinpoint and wanted to get to know more of. He was tired of fake people. Of all the fake smiles and fake laughter and fake parties and having to pretend he was someone he simply wasn’t. It was all for the greater good, sure, but hiding behind a mask was draining. No one knew that better than Bruce Wayne.
Before he realised it, he’d stood up, placing his plate and cup on top of the counter. The soft “clack” of it made you turn around and your eyes widened slightly.
“Oh – “ you mumbled. “It’s okay, I usually just do that.”
“Lifting a cup and a plate won’t kill me, I assure you.”
You chuckled and took the dishes, turning to the sink.
“You’re not at all like what people say.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re not like they describe you,” you said with a small shrug. A strand of hair fell from behind your ear and Bruce’s hand twitched slightly, perhaps wishing to tuck it back himself.
“So you know who I am?” he asked, a curious smile forming in his lips. He wasn’t expecting to be completely ignorant of him – hell, it’s impossible to be unaware of his existence when you live in Gotham.
“I have a television and friends who love gossip magazines. It’s preposterous to think of a person who hasn’t come across your face, considering it’s slapped in nearly every tabloid ever.” You chuckled, soaking his plate. “And there was the matter of your credit card – I thought American Express was a myth.”
Bruce remained silent, which prompted you to go on.
“Everyone says you’re an arrogant jerk – “ The words come out of your mouth before you can process them, and he chuckles mentally, finding the way you stumbled over your words quite amusing. “I mean, that’s what they say – I’m not saying that you’re one, I just – I’m just repeating what’s been told to me. Anyway, yeah. You don’t seem like that at all.”
“And what makes you say that? We’ve spoken for all but five minutes,” he cocked an eyebrow, eagerly awaiting your answer.
You think for a while, gripping the towel at your hands and shrug again.
“I don’t know.” You turn to him. “Call it intuition, but I just felt like you were being genuine. I mean, you don’t have a bazillion models hanging off your arms – and it looked like you walked all the way here. No fancy sports car like the ones in the magazines either.” Another shrug. “You just seemed like a random guy when you walked in. No fancy titles whatsoever.”
Just a random guy.
Sometimes it felt like such a thing was unattainable for Bruce.
In front of the cameras, he had to be spoiled, rich, reckless playboy Bruce who bought hotels on a whim, hung around with hot models and spent his money on useless luxuries such as cars and yachts. When no one was watching, he had the weight of Gotham in his shoulders as Batman, sacrificing his mind and body every night just to make sure his people were safe.
It was impossible for Bruce to be just a random guy, no matter how much he wanted to.
But the way you said it – like you truly believed it – made him think twice about it.
You weren’t grovelling at his feet. Nor were you pretending not to know him as many others had done, in order to appear mysterious and different, and therefore catch his attention. No, you were just being you – or what he hoped was you. You knew who he was, admitted to seeing his face and knowing of his affairs, but that didn’t stop you from treating him like a normal person.
Just a random guy.
“Or maybe I’m just biased because you liked my cupcakes.” There it was again, that lovely smile of yours.
And you were funny too.
“I’ll admit, that was my tactic all along.” Bruce allowed a hint of playfulness to tint his voice, and your smile widened at that.
“Your secret is safe with me, Mr. Wayne.”
“Please, just Bruce.”
“Alright then. Your secret is safe with me, Bruce.” You smiled and went back to cleaning the counter. (You half expected him to leave without saying a word – why’d a billionaire entertain your company for more than a few minutes? – and were surprised when he stayed.)
“I’m sorry if I’m crossing a line here, but,” he started, “Would you like to join me for lunch one of these days?”
You eyed him curiously and cocked your head to the side, giving him a cheeky smile.
“Me? Really?”
“Exactly you.”
“Why? I don’t exactly belong with your people, Bruce – whoever they might be.”
“I was actually just hoping I’d get some free cupcakes.”
At this, you snorted out loud, covering your mouth with your hand. The other clients in the bakery looked at you with a slightly disgusted face, and it only made you laugh louder.
Once you stopped giggling (and after having wiped some tears from your eyes), you nodded and turned to him.
“Alright, fine. Lunch sounds great. Although – I’m sure you’re followed everywhere. And I don’t really want to be the latest gossip magazine cover.” You crossed your arms. Bruce nodded in understanding. After all, he knew how troublesome the media could be, especially when they were looking for any crumbs that might get them any insight into someone’s life.
(Un)fortunately for him, they couldn’t see past the playboy persona.
“I’ll take care of that – don’t worry.” Was his honest response. “Let’s say it’s easy for me to… become invisible.”
You leaned against the counter, smile ever so present.
“And how are you going to do that? Gonna wear a cap and sunglasses? A wig? Do we get to wear disguises? Maybe you could wear a mask!” Funny.
“I’ll just leave the American Express at home. Do you think that new Pizza place everyone’s been talking about accepts hundreds?” Bruce joked.
Your snort resonated through the bakery again, and the couple that had glanced at you earlier left, shaking their heads and muttering something about “decorum”.
The rest was history.
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You and Bruce had become inseparable from that day onward.
Turns out that around you, he could be just a random guy, like he always wanted.
He started going to your bakery more and more, and convinced your boss to let you experiment with your cupcakes however you wanted.
“How the hell did you manage that?” you asked him, mouth open in wonder. “She told me I had full control of the menu! Two weeks ago, she said she didn’t want to try my sweets!”
“I’m very persuasive,” he replied, biting into a banana flavoured muffin – one of your more recent experiments. “It’s a bit chunky. Kind of bland, doesn’t melt on your mouth like the others do.”
“Yeah, I think I went overboard with the flour…” you mumble, writing something down on your notepad. “Anyways, how persuasive can you be? This woman has drunk the same cup of coffee for like, 40 years. She hates change.”
“Let’s just say I worked my regular Wayne charm.”
At that, you rolled your eyes and hit him with your towel but couldn’t hide the smile that graced your lips.
He’d stop by every day after work, eager to try out your new recipes and have a nice chat. It was freeing to have someone he could call his friend, with whom he could have conversations that weren’t about his job, his money, or his other affairs. It felt nice to be able to share things with you, things he couldn’t find it in himself to share with other people.
It took him a while, but he eventually told you things about himself. Slowly.
He told you about his parents, how much he looked up to his father and how he adored his mother. He told you about his childhood, playing in the gardens of his Manor or watching his father fiddle with the stethoscope, hoping one day he could make a difference just like him. He told you how sometimes he would just watch his mother apply makeup in her face, marvelling at how beautiful she looked. Other women of the high society always looked like they had this world and the next worth of makeup on their faces, but his mother was able to enhance all her natural features with a simple eye pencil or some lipstick.
“Makeup shouldn’t be used to turn yourself into something new,” she’d once told him, applying some sort of clear powder on her face. “Just to complement the beauty you already have.”
He found it easy to relate to that. Not the makeup, necessarily, but the whole “turning into a new person”. Batman was no different than him, nor was he someone different. He just brought out Bruce’s biggest desires, to keep Gotham safe.
In return, you told him about your childhood. About your first years in school, your friends and family. You told him about your passions, your wishes. How you wanted to travel the world and read as many books as possible. How you liked to laze around some Saturdays but couldn’t stay home and just had to get up and leave in others.
Bruce found the duality in you quite entrancing.
Some days, you’d be running around the Manor, goofing around with Alfred, and whipping up new recipes with him, the both of you jamming to old jazz that played on the radio – Alfred had been teaching you swing, and you enjoyed spinning around the room with him as lively tunes played.
(In fact, Bruce had walked in on you and him dancing a few times, and couldn’t help but lean against the doorway, watching and you laughed loudly and tried not to fall whenever his butler spun you around.)
It also went without saying that Alfred was over the moon now that his master no longer seemed to be alone. You might only be one person, but the Manor came alive whenever you were in it, and he relished in knowing Bruce finally had someone he could trust besides himself.
At first, Bruce thought of you as a friend. Someone he could confide in, someone to have a good time with and relax. But as weeks turned to months, he found himself developing stronger feelings. It wasn’t about “having fun” and relaxing anymore, it was now about seeing you, making sure you were alright, listening to your every thought and feelings.
He thought it was normal, though. After all, aren’t friends supposed to care for each other and be eager to spend time together? After all, it had been a while since he had friends. At least ones that spoke to him on the regular, that were there for him. This whole thing was new to him. So, he kept these feelings hidden, convinced they were nothing but the norm, enjoying whatever silly activities you engaged in.
You two had, after all, your own little rituals.
You loved reading – always had, and believed to continue doing so until you were dead and buried. And despite not having a lot of time to do so, Bruce did too. So, it wasn’t long before you two created your own little book club along with Alfred.
You would prepare a batch of cookies, Alfred would make some tea, and Bruce would wait by the fireplace in the living room, since there was really nothing he could contribute with but his insight on the books you were reading.
“So, what’d you think?” he asked, taking a sip from his tea, and placing the mug on the coffee table by his feet.
“I think it was terrible.” You replied.
Bruce nearly spat the drink in his mouth.
“Excuse me?!”
“I said what I said – it was a terrible book.”
“I think you’re the first person ever to call The Great Gatsby a ‘terrible book’.” He raised an eyebrow and looked at Alfred, who was intent on hearing whatever you were going to say next. He too was quite curious, but he had an inkling he knew where you were going with this.
You just shrugged your shoulders and brought your legs to your chair, sitting on top of them. You felt at home in Wayne Manor. Bruce had told you to make yourself comfortable after the third time you visited, and you wasted no time in doing so.
“Jay Gatsby is one pretentious motherfucker,” you say.
“Language!” Alfred tutted.
“Sorry – I meant; Jay Gatsby is one pretentious douchebag.” You bowed your head towards Alfred and the butler nodded in acknowledgment.
“Wait – why?”
“Are you kidding me?” All you could do was scoff. “Gatsby is an obsessive narcissist, an egocentric pathological liar who cares about no one else other than himself, and much probably, a psychopath.”
Bruce was perplexed. Very much so.
“I – I – well. I see.”
“And the way he objectifies Daisy throughout the whole book – he doesn’t even love her! He loves the idea of her. He’s a jerk.”
Bruce couldn’t even interrupt you, because you were on a spree, gesticulating with your arms and talking fast.
“But let’s be honest here, it’s not like she loves him either.”
“She doesn’t?”
“Of course not! She’s a shallow, materialistic, spoiled brat and I can’t stand her!” You finished your little speech by taking a bite out of a cookie and crossing your arms.
“Huh. Right.” Bruce said, grabbing his copy of the book. “Well, I thought it was a great book. And I don’t think Gatsby is any of the things you said.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes, really. I think he is a misunderstood soul.”
You scoffed. Again.
“He’s a misunderstood ass – “
“Language – “
“He is Alfred!”
“Yes, but you aren’t, and I would like to keep this household clean, for dear Master and Missus Wayne’s sake.” He replied casually, giving you that look you’d learn to interpret as “do not test me you silly little baker, for I am British and have the high ground”, and to which you just stuck your tongue out.
Bruce ignored the both of you and continued.
“And, well, I think he truly did love Daisy.”
“That’s impossible.”
“No, no, and here’s why, he did everything for her.”
“Name one thing.”
“Well, he waited five whole years for her. I think that’s rather romantic. He went great lengths to impress Daisy and win her love. The parties, the money, his whole persona – it wasn’t him, but he did it all for Daisy.” Bruce explained calmly. Alfred looked at him with raised eyebrows and just sipped from his teacup quietly.
“Bruce, the whole thing was a circus.” You reached in front of you to grab another cookie and took a bite out of it, missing the way your friend’s gaze dropped to your lips and then returned to your eyes in just a millisecond. “He was just showing off.”
“Perhaps,” Bruce said, “But perhaps he was just trying to be someone worthy of her. I’m sure love can make people do crazy things.” He wasn’t one to talk. It’s not like he knew what “love” was. He’d crushed on Rachel as kids, but that’s all it was, a silly childhood crush.
Perhaps the love he had for his city could count. He did do crazy things for it. Dressing up as a bat was an example.
You nodded your head a few times, pondering his answer.
“Maybe, yeah. But I don’t think so. If he loved her, he should’ve just said it. There was no need for all the show.”
Alfred raised his eyebrows once again. A very you-ish reply. He was enjoying this immensely.
Bruce replayed her words in his head. He should’ve said it. Surely, it wasn’t that easy. Jay Gatsby wasn’t your average man. He was a mystery. He had secrets and things he needed to hide. It wasn’t as easy as just walking up to Daisy and telling her “I love you”. It wasn’t that simple. “You think so?” he asked.
“Well, yeah! Absolutely – I mean, why complicate things?” you replied. “He should’ve just dropped the luxuries, the parties, he should’ve just stopped with all of the eccentric millionaire thing, looked her in the eyes and say, ‘I love you’. Simple.”
"Absolutely! I mean, why complicate things? Just look someone in the eyes and say, ‘I love you.’ Simple.”
“Simple, huh?”
You nodded, taking another sip from your tea – you drank it sickeningly sweet, with lots of honey, while he preferred one or two spoons of sugar.
“Yeah. Simple. No need for the fancy parties, and mysterious acts. Just be genuine.”
“That’s an interesting perspective,” he mumbled. “But sometimes people have reasons for not saying what’s in their hearts. Sometimes they must hide their feelings.” It was true. You didn’t know he was Batman – you couldn’t. He needed to keep you safe. All you knew was that he worked a lot, plenty of times exhausting himself and arriving home super late. It was for the best.
Alfred hummed thoughtfully, which earned him a curious look from the both of you.
“Oh, nothing, nothing. Please, do continue,” he said, gesturing for you to go on.
You gave him a weird look but simply turned to face Bruce once again.
“Reasons? Like what?”
Bruce couldn’t look you in the eye now. He shrugged and got suddenly very interested by the coffee table by his feet.
“Fear, maybe. Fear of what might happen if they open up. Fear of losing someone precious.”
You hummed, “Well, in my book, it’s always better to be honest and take the risk. Life’s too short for illusions. If Gatsby had just said it, maybe things would’ve been different. Who knows? But I still think he was one pompous son of a bitch.” You leaned back in your chair with a smug grin and finished the rest of your tea.
Alfred just excused himself and made his way towards the kitchen.
You certainly did bring some life into this once empty house.
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You were lazing around in a Sunday afternoon, mindlessly scrolling your phone as a rerun of a show you liked played on TV. Even after a few years, it could still get some laughs out of you, and you’d look at the screen and smile.
All of a sudden, the couch dipped next to you.
Bruce had jumped over it, and landed next to you, sitting down comfortably, as if parkouring around Wayne Manor was something he did on the regular.
“Shit! Holy – Bruce!” You nearly jumped out of your seat, clutching your chest. Sometimes you wondered if Bruce wasn’t some sort of ninja. Being able to hide himself and be so silent wasn’t normal, and at times, to be frank, a little bit creepy.
He acted as if nothing was wrong and turned to you.
“Friday night, charity gala, you and me,” he said, matter-of-factly, as if he’d simply asked you what the weather was like outside.
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah, the Carringtons are throwing a big party this Friday. It’s supposed to be this big fundraiser. The profits will go for new police facilities. As if those corrupt idiots needed them…” He sighed. “And clearly, Bruce Wayne must attend. And, as expected, he has to bring someone.”
You whined and threw your head back in frustration. You’d been to a couple of galas with Bruce. Most of them were dreadfully boring, filled with fake people whose only purpose there was to flaunt their money and pretend to care about whatever topics seemed most controversial. You hated them. The fake smiles, the gross men leering on you, the women shamelessly throwing themselves at Bruce (not that you minded. After all, you two were just friends. It just made you uncomfortable that they were so forward about his advances. Clearly, he wasn’t alone. He had you. Could they not see it? But of course, you two were just friends. Which meant you weren’t jealous. You just felt sorry for them, and extremely uncomfortable whenever they looked at, spoke to, or touched him. Duh.)
“I can’t go.”
Bruce grimaced.
“Why?”
“I’m busy. Sorry Bruce, I have plans.” What a liar.
Your friend smirked and nudged his head towards the kitchen.
“Alfred checked your schedule – you’re free for the next two weeks.”
Your jaw dropped and you looked back at the kitchen, where Alfred innocently prepared a few sandwiches.
“Damn him! I swear that man must’ve been a British spy!” you muttered, shaking your head.
“So, are you coming with me?” Bruce pressed on.
“I can’t – I have to return some videotapes.” You replied smugly.
Bruce gave you a dry laugh and threw a pillow in your direction, which you failed to dodge.
“Very funny. I’m serious – I can’t go by myself. Look, I know what this is going to sound like, but the Carringtons are only doing this to show off. They don’t care about the police; they want to show Gotham just how rich their grandfather’s money has made them. They’ve been around for years and never once donated – why now?”
“Just because you have to go, doesn’t mean that I have!” you too threw a pillow at him, but as always, his reflexes were on point, and he managed to catch it mid-air.
“Look, you’d be doing me a huge favour.”
“I have literally nothing to wear.”
Bruce gave you a blank stare – that excuse did not stick anymore, not after he’d bought you a different dress for each party he had taken you to (“Think of it as a thank you gift”, he said).
“Just take a model. Or an actress. Or some other celebrity. You know me Bruce, I don’t belong with those people. They’re not my crowd.” You grabbed another pillow and prepared to throw it at him.
“I can’t stand another night of pretending to spend my free time buying hotels and yachts.” Bruce said your name softly and you let your guard down, lowering your arm. “It’s not me, and you know it.” You looked into those chocolate brown eyes that seemed to have soften – those eyes of his always made you melt, and you often found yourself saying yes to his every whim.
You pondered your choices.
He could take a model or an actress. The headlines would love speculating who the hell was Bruce Wayne messing around with this time. He’d have to pretend to be someone he was not for a whole evening – though you didn’t know why; only that, for some reason, he had a reputation to upkeep – and the next morning you’d wake up and seethe as you watched the shots paparazzi got of your best friend and some random floozy slobbering on top of him.
Or, you could go with him. It’d be a pain in the ass to pretend to like all of those people and to interact with those phony idiots who thought money was worth anything and would try their best to snake their ways in Bruce’s close circle. But you’d spend a nice evening with your friend, wear a pretty dress, drink some expensive champagne and be able to laugh at everyone else with him. There were worse fates than that, you were sure.
“Fine,” you sighed, “I’ll come with you.”
Bruce did a small “yes” gesture with his arm, and then grabbed a nearby pillow. “Now, where were we?”
“Oh – OH don’t you dare, Bruce Wayne!” You lifted your arm once again, but before you could throw the pillow in his direction, he’d grabbed your arm and pulled you to him. You fell on top of his body, hands on either side of his head as they bore the weight of your body. Your face was inches away from his, and all you could do was stare into those brown eyes that had you so weak.
You blinked repeatedly, before quickly getting up. Your cheeks were flaring up and you grabbed your phone, standing up from the couch.
Bruce, on his end, was speechless. He watched as you stood up, unable to form a coherent sentence.
“I – I should go. I need to… yeah, I gotta – I gotta do something. I’ll see you later.” You mumbled, and within seconds, you were out the door.
When you were gone, Alfred left the kitchen and walked towards the couch where Bruce was sitting, still silently staring at the wall.
“Is everything alright, Master Wayne?” he asked, although he didn’t really need an answer. He knew exactly what was going on with him. After all, he’d raised this boy like his own son for years.
“Yes,” Bruce cleared his throat, nodding. “Yes, yes, I am. Everything’s fine. How about those sandwiches you were making?” He tried changing the topic, but it was too late.
As Alfred walked back to the kitchen, he couldn’t help but think that he should probably schedule an optometrist appointment for his master. After all, one can’t help but be concerned when such a smart, capable man was so blind to matters of the heart. Almost as blind as a bat, one could say. He’d keep this joke for later. Bruce would hate it. Even better.
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Funnily enough, Alfred wasn’t the only one who thought Bruce was blind to his feelings.
In fact, it seemed like everyone could see how smitten the Wayne billionaire was with you.
When you two went out, he would look at you with this sparkle in his eyes, looking at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.
You walked into the party, arm linked with his, and it was as if the whole world stopped to look at you two.
Everyone knew about your existence – it wasn’t the first time you accompanied Bruce to parties – Bruce Wayne and his close friend. Friend. Yeah, sure. If the glances he stole were any indication, the Wayne heir was nothing but completely enamoured with you. In fact, it was incredible how much he’d changed. His whole attitude changed when he was accompanied by you. No longer was he the reckless billionaire who drank too much and humiliated himself, but the elegant man who liked to engage in conversations (as long as the topics were interesting) and had a heart of gold.
Yes, everyone seemed to spot the change in demeanour whenever you two were together.
“Bruce!” A voice could be heard from the distance, and Rachel Dawes made her way towards the both of you. She smiled and spoke your name once she noticed you were the one accompanying her childhood friend, before hugging you. “Oh, it’s so nice to see you here!”
You hugged her back and gave her a genuine smile. You’d met Rachel before more than a few times – she was a lovely young woman with a great sense of justice, and you were sure she was going to do great things for Gotham’s wellbeing. You also enjoyed her company greatly, since she had once told you all of the embarrassing stories about Bruce’s childhood. “I had no idea you were going to be here!”
“Yeah, well,” she looked around and smiled, seemingly looking for someone. “I was just as surprised as you were.”
Then, a very familiar face emerged from the crowd, calling out “Rachel!” and walking to her side.
“There you were – you left so abruptly; I thought something was wrong.” The man said, before turning to look at you and Bruce. You took him in. Dirty blond hair and a familiar cleft chin. You furrowed your eyebrows, before it finally clicked in.
“You’re Harvey Dent – I’ve seen you on TV before,” you said, and he smiled in acknowledgement.
“That would be me, yes.” He put forward his hand, and you shook it, introducing yourself.
Harvey then turned to look at Bruce, extending his hand to him.
“And you must be Bruce Wayne. Rachel talks about you a lot.”
Bruce shook it and nodded.
“Hopefully she hasn’t disclosed everything about me, otherwise I’d be ruined.”
The two men chuckled, and you took that opportunity to look at Rachel. You looked from her to Harvey, opened your mouth and wiggled your eyebrows, earning a laugh from her. Rachel moved to your side as Bruce and Harvey spoke about Gotham and took your arm.
“Well, well, Miss Dawes. Is there anything you’d like to tell us?” you asked in a hushed tone, still wiggling your eyebrows up and down. “How’d you meet?”
“At work. Harvey is running for district attorney. One thing led to another, and…” she trailed off, and you nudged her torso with your arm.
“And now you’re shagging future attorney Harvey Dent. Look at you go!”
Rachel covered her mouth with her hands and supressed a scoff.
“You’re unbelievable, and I never want to hear those words coming from your mouth ever! It’s just a casual thing, we’ve only gone on a few dates. Besides, you’re the one attending a charity gala with Gotham’s most eligible bachelor. I think every woman in this room has you on a death list.”
“Pftt,” you waved your hand dismissively, “You know we’re just friends. Nothing for those women to be jealous about.”
“Ah, I see. You’re just friends.” Rachel nodded, feigning seriousness in her voice.
“Yes, we are. Stop with that face!”
“What face?”
“That face you always do,” you motioned towards her face, nearly pouting. “We are! And that’s the end of the discussion! I don’t even know why we’re talking about my non-existent relationship with Bruce when you’re probably going to be First Lady someday – this is huge.”
Rachel swatted you with her purse and returned to Harvey’s side before giving you a cheeky smile – it felt nice to have a girl friend you could talk to in these scenarios. Usually, it was just you and Bruce, which, however pleasant, wasn’t the same thing as having a girl in there. You were happy to catch her off work – Rachel seemed like a different person at the office. While there, she maintained a strong and serious attitude, you were happy to see her when she had no work business to worry about and could simply be a girl with you.
“Well, I’m afraid I’ve wasted too much of your time, Mr. Wayne,” Harvey said, shaking Bruce’s hand again. “It was a pleasure to meet Rachel’s oldest friend.” He then turned to you, “And a pleasure to meet you too, Miss.” “Likewise,” you replied.
Bruce nodded.
“Of course. I’ll be sure to send you a nice bottle of Chardonnay when you’re elected district attorney,” he said in his best careless billionaire voice, and nodded at Rachel before the two walked away. “Who would’ve thought,” he muttered to you, beckoning a butler who was carrying a tray of champagne glasses close to him.
“Well, I think they’re lovely together,” you smiled and grabbed a glass, smiling once the liquid hit your lips. Champagne was always welcome.
“Well, you think everyone looks lovely together. You’re a sap.” You laugh at Bruce’s comment and hold onto his arm. He brings you close, absentmindedly, and the two of you walk around the party, occasionally being stopped by the average donor.
After eating some entrees and mingling with the guests, soft music started to play and ring throughout the room. You looked up, pleasantly surprised, and tugged at Bruce’s arm.
“Come on,”
You didn’t have to tell him twice – he was growing tired of pretending to share the same interests as these vile people. He wanted a respite from keeping the charade up, so he gladly took your hand and led you to the middle of what had become the dancefloor. You two weren’t the only ones in there, a couple more pairs having decided to dance.
Bruce gently held your waist and pulled you close to him, his other hand coming to lift yours.
“Thank you,” he spoke, ignoring the way everyone’s eyes glued onto the two of you.
“I could see you were about to actually punch that man right in the face,” you chuckled, looking at the person in question. He was a middle-aged man who could probably stand to lose a few pounds for the sake of his health, who was trying to talk Bruce into introducing him a couple of models. You just had to come to the rescue, because Bruce actually looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. Thankfully, he was a good actor and simply promised the man he would surely hook him up with the woman of his dreams.
“I think it goes without saying I’m not introducing jack shit to him. I’m pretty sure he’s assaulted his female employers. I should have someone investigate it.”
“My, my. Bruce Wayne, ever the White Knight.” You smiled, and you could swear that for some minutes, the entire world faded away as the soft melodies of Camille Saint-Saëns filled the air.
He snorted at that but did not say anything.
The two of you kept dancing. You found looking into his eyes extremely hard, so you avoided his gaze, looking straight ahead at behind his shoulder continuously.
“I still haven’t told you how beautiful you look tonight,” Bruce finally broke the silence between you two, and you returned his gaze. He’d bought you a floor-length black John Galliano gown with delicate lace trim and a bias cut, and you had actually screamed into your pillow once you saw it – it was far too pretty.
“Thank you,” you reply, brushing some invisible dust from his shoulders. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
Bruce lowered his voice and looked you in the eyes, making your breath hitch in your throat.
“I mean it. You do look stunning.”
The two of you stopped dancing for a few moments, and you were unable to look away from his almost magnetic gaze. Time seemed to stand still, and you gripped his shoulder tighter, to make sure you were real, and he was real, and this whole ordeal was real.
He was just about to speak again, when you were interrupted by a loud, shrill voice.
“Mr. Wayne! Oh, what a pleasure to have you here!”
You quickly pulled away from him as Catherine Carrington, a woman in her mid-40s with long, blonde hair approached the both of you and placed two loud kisses on either side of his cheeks. You looked away, trying to figure out how to properly breathe again, and fanned yourself with your hands.
Harrold Carrington, Catherine’s husband walked to her side and shook Bruce’s hand, far too interested in talking to you. You stifled a laugh – whoever was in charge of his wig had tone a terrible job, because it was clear as day his hairline was receding, and the hair he had on was fake.
“Ah, you must be the mysterious friend everyone has been talking about. We’ve seen you around a few times, haven’t we Miss? But I don’t think we’ve properly met – I’m Harrold Carrington. And may I say, you look splendid this evening.”
None of the Carringtons seemed interested in their spouses. Catherine was fawning over Bruce, and Harrold’s eyes lingered far too long on your exposed collarbone and cleavage. So much so, that you turned from him uncomfortably. Bruce was quick to notice your discomfort, and pulled you next to him once again, wrapping a protective arm around your waist.
“I’d appreciate it if you could keep your eyes on the lady’s face, as opposed to her chest, Mr. Carrington,” he said with a smile that you could only identify as fake, and that smug voice he used when he was feeling particularly cocky.
All of the colour drained from Harrold’s face, and he stuttered, trying to form a coherent sentence – which he failed miserably. “I – I, well – I wasn’t – I would never! I – I was just –“
Bruce faced Catherine once again and gave her another fake smile.
“Lovely party Mrs. Carrington. Very nice of you to raise money for the Gotham Police Department. Very charitable, indeed. And the champagne is just splendid. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I heard someone was eating caviar, and it’s not a real party without it, now is it?”
Effortlessly, he brought you away from the couple.
Once you were out of sight, he looked at you with a worried expression.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“Yeah – he was just creepy. Shit, I hate galas.”
“Tell me about it,” Bruce sighed, before shaking his head. “How long have we been here for?”
“About two hours.”
“How about we ditch at three? I think it’d be a crime to abandon this party now. Especially when you look this dazzling.”
He was giving you that look once again, the one you couldn’t quite decipher, and you felt butterflies in your stomach.
Bruce, on the other hand, was freaking out. You looked lovely, even more so than usual. He’d been dancing with you, and all was perfect, and then that hag Catherine had to go and ruin everything.
Was it too much to ask for a quiet dance with his friend?
Friend.
The word tasted wrong in his mouth.
No, you weren’t his friend. At least not anymore.
He thought about your dance moments earlier. How you’d held onto him, far too shy to look him in the eye, lips slightly parted and eyes sparkly. He thought of how easily you leaned into his touch and how he liked having you by his side.
He thought of how much he enjoyed spending time with you, how much he laughed in your presence, how free he felt when he was with you. He could be himself, something that he felt he couldn’t be anywhere else. You were his safe haven. You were everything.
It was that night Bruce Wayne realised he was in love with you.
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One time the both of you went out to do some Christmas shopping.
(“In November?” Bruce had asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
“Christmas sales have already started! And I bet everyone’s going to start super soon, so we need to get to it!” Was your reply. Bruce could only sigh and agree, like he always did when it came to you.)
Besides, it was the first Christmas you’d be able to spend together after 2 years of friendship. The last two had Bruce way too busy with his company (at least that’s what he told you. In reality, he had been tracking down a few criminals who’d been wreaking havoc days before.
The main point was: after two years of being friends, you would finally get to spend Christmas together. It’s not that you’d suffered those Christmases without him; you had friends and family. But you wanted to spend the holidays with who you now considered to be your closest friend.
Bruce, however, wanted to spend Christmas with the woman he was in love with. He hadn’t found the courage to tell you – not yet. He was afraid of ruining things, of hurting you. So he kept silent, relishing in the friendship the both of you had.
Approaching the mall, you had a small list in your hand, filled with names of everyone you wanted to buy a gift for. He had around five people in mind, so he did not need all those preparations.
Once you were in the crowded mall, Bruce would hold you close to him, shielding you from everyone who might bump into you. His hand would respectfully be in the small of your back, and if he needed you to get out of someone’s way (people who refused to look up from their phones were the worst), he would slide it to your waist and gently pull you towards him.
You’d stopped at a beauty store, wanting to buy a new skin care package for your closest friend at work – heavens knew how badly you needed her to keep you sane – so you’d asked Bruce for his opinion on a myriad of perfumes.
“See, I like this one, but I think the smell is a bit too strong,” you mumbled, squeezing some of the hand lotion’s sample on your hand and applying it there. “Here,” you reached your hand to him, and nearly all the air was sucked out of your lungs when Bruce carefully reached for it, holding your pulse in his and bringing it to his face. His lips nearly brushed against your skin as he took the smell of the lotion in, and at least a dozen of women who were shopping nearby swooned.
Bruce let go of your hand just as gently and you blinked a few times, trying to wake up from your little trance.
“It is a bit strong, yeah. You mentioned she’s got a sensitive nose, so maybe something less floral?”
You were quick to nod and walk away, afraid he’d notice the way your cheeks heat up and your pupils dilated.
Once you turned away from him, focusing on the other hand lotions, he sighed, still feeling a buzzing sensation in his hand. It was as if he could still feel your skin against his, and he had to shake his head to return to the task at hand. Control yourself.
At a clothing store, you held up different sweatshirts next to him, asking for his opinion on a gift to your father. He gave you his earnest opinion, and insisted on carrying all your bags once you were done.
“Bruce – come on, I can carry them. I’m not a baby,” you’d told him, sighing in exasperation.
“Just allow me. You’re still picking up things left and right, it’s better if I carry these for you.”
You two checked out a jewellery shop – you’d been saving up to buy your mom a pair of earrings, and while you busied yourself looking through rows and rows of pairs, looking for the one you had your eyes on, Bruce quickly excused himself, and turned to a shop helper.
Approaching the counter, he placed the delicate pair of pearl earrings next to the cashier, glancing around just to make sure you weren’t paying attention to him.
“Would you like these to be gift wrapped?” The cashier asked.
“Yes please.”
Bruce continued glancing around. You too were speaking to a shop helper, pointing to the delicate pair of gold earrings you wanted to get.
“A gift for a special someone?” The cashier asked once again with a polite smile. Bruce wasn’t dumb. If he were anyone else, this would be a regular, standard question asked by shop clerks to keep a friendly conversation going. But he’s not just anyone else. He’d noticed the way the woman had glanced him up and down with a wishful expression and could bet all his money that if he were to reveal more than necessary, then she would turn to any gossip magazine as soon as he was out the door and spill whatever nonsense she thought it was going on.
He gave her a curt nod, paid for the earrings (now neatly placed inside of a box and wrapped with a pretty red ribbon), and returned to your side, hiding the box inside his jacket’s pocket.
“Did you find them?” he asked once he got to your side, and if it were anyone else, you would’ve jumped, but by now you were used to Bruce. You seemed to lean into his side and smiled, looking at the pair of hoops the shop helper brought to the counter.
“Yeah – she’s gonna love them! I was super scared they’d be sold out Bruce, I’ve been working my ass off to get these. I’m so proud of myself,” your smile was contagious, and Bruce found himself bringing you closer to him by the waist and giving you one of his super rare smiles. Once again, every woman within a five-mile radio sighed, basically eating him up with their eyes. It was no secret Bruce Wayne was a handsome man – not to mention Gotham’s most eligible bachelor – but to see him act so affectionate in public was a completely different thing, and it was clear more than woman had gotten jealous just looking at you.
(Their boyfriends were not happy with the way said women ogled Bruce up and down.)
“I’m proud of you too.” Bruce replied. It was true. You were a hardworking woman, and he beamed with pride at your accomplishments.
Of course he didn’t tell you he bribed the store to keep the earrings stored until you came along to buy them – he wasn’t about to let someone snatch the thing you’d been working so hard to get – but it didn’t matter. You’d earned it.
You grinned at him and reluctantly broke free from his hold.
“I’m gonna go pay for these, meet me outside?”
He nodded and walked outside of the store, hand coming to pat the box inside of his pocket. They’d look incredible with his mother’s pearl necklace, that’s for sure.
He carried your things to the limo, and upon arriving to the Manor, he distracted you with promises of hot chocolate and marshmallows, before handing Alfred the little white box and telling him to keep it a secret. The rest of the evening was spent with the two of you discussing presents, drinking your hot chocolate, and watching some Christmas movies as the wood in the fireplaced cracked piece by piece, enveloping you both in a cozy warmth.
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Later that month, the two of you were sitting at an expensive café, having a few treats, and talking about your Christmas shopping. Although the place was very fancy and its prices had shocked you, so had the quality of their food.
“This is garbage,” you said, eyeing the cupcake on your plate. “Holy shit, who baked these? It feels like I’m chewing on a brick!”
“Yours are much better, yes,” Bruce agreed, taking his own cupcake, and looking at it carefully. “And that’s this awful taste?”
“I think she added lemon juice, but it doesn’t work in this recipe, not at all. You’ll see, it’ll basically nullify the sweetness of it, and the whole thing is just gonna taste like one sour cupcake. Gosh, people pay their rent’s worth of money for these?”
Bruce could listen to you talk for hours on end. The way your eyes lit up when you found a topic you were interested in, and how genuinely passionate you were about your hobbies. Your genuineness was something he praised and found himself looking for more and more. In fact, one of the reasons he’d taken you to this specific café was because he knew the cupcakes sucked – he’d eaten there before. He just wanted to hear you talk about them.
An old woman approached your table, wearing a Santa Claus had on top of her head, and a few Christmas related pins on her waitress apron.
“Is there anything else I can get for you?” she asked with a smile.
“Oh, no thank you, we’re fine.” You replied, returning it «.
“I see. Well, I’d just like to say, it’s a real gift to see such precious young love.” The woman gestured at the both of you, and your cheeks flared up. “This city can be so dark and gloomy sometimes; it warms my heart to know that love still prevails on top of all. You two are such a lovely couple.”
“We’re –“ you coughed, trying to clear your throat. “We’re not – we’re not a couple.”
“Oh!”
“Yeah, we’re just – we’re just friends!” you were quick to correct her and refused to meet Bruce in the eye.
Oh, right. Bruce. He was staring at the old woman, completely lost in thought. This woman thought you two were a couple. Did you look like it? And why had you shut her down so quickly? Did you hate the idea that much? Would it be so terrible if the two of you were to date?
“Oh, I am so sorry then, my apologies!” the waitress was quick to apologise. “It’s just – you two look rather lovely together. I’m sorry for the intrusion.” She walked away and you covered your cheeks with your hands, trying to mask the sudden blush that had overcome you.
Bruce, on his end, was still staring at where the woman had been. Did you two look like a couple that much? He wouldn’t mind it. No, not really, he wouldn’t mind being a couple with you. He could finally drop that stupid playboy persona, be one step closer to his real self. He could protect you and always keep you safe and closer to him. He wondered what it would be like to wake up to you every morning and be greeted with that dazzling smile of yours. Would you ask him for five more minutes in bed? Act all grumpy until you had your morning coffee? Would you drag him out of his bedroom to start the day and be productive?
“Shall we go?” you interrupted his thoughts, placing your now empty mug on top of your plate. “It’s gonna get dark soon, and I wanted to see the Christmas lights.” Your voice was lower, still tinted with some nervousness. Bruce snapped out of it and nodded, walking towards the counter to pay the bill.
While he was gone, you made your way to the bathroom and splashed some water on your face, to wake yourself up and hopefully cool down.
Once you were ready, you walked out of the café, strolling the streets of Gotham.
Sometimes it surprised you how pretty your city could be. Sure, there was chaos and corruption, and most of the times it was a fucking shithole, but it was still home, and the tall buildings and bright lights could still take your breath away.
You and Bruce walked side by side. You were still far too nervous to look at him, so you kept your distance. Bruce, respectful as ever, remained by your side, refusing to touch you until you gave him permission. As you were looking at the prettily decorated shop windows and houses, he could see the way your body shivered and trembled.
That’s what you got for refusing to bring a jacket because, “your outfit looked far too pretty to be hidden behind a coat”.
“Cold?” he asked.
“N-no. Not at all. I’m fine. I told you; these tights are really warm.” Your voice was trembling, and your teeth were close to chattering. A part of Bruce wanted to see you fight for your case just a bit longer, while the other just longed to envelop you in his arms and keep the cold away.
“Oh, really? Because I’m pretty sure the tips of your fingers are turning blue.” He said with a smug expression.
“No, I’m fine.” You replied, nodding eagerly. “I told you; I wouldn’t be cold. I’m not.”
Bruce just nodded and kept walking by your side.
After a few minutes, it was far too obvious you were freezing. Your body was trembling, your teeth were chattering, and he was sure he could see your lips becoming a dark shade of purple.
Wordlessly, Bruce began to remove his jacket.
“What are you doing?” you asked, turning to him in confusion.
“Preventing you from catching pneumonia,” he replied, handing it to you.
“N-no, T-that’s not n-necessary, Bruce. I’m fine. I’m n-not cold. I’m f-fine! See? Just p-peachy.”
Bruce had faced criminals and villains and corrupt cops, and they’d all lied to him at one point or another. None was as bad as you.
He gave you one of his “I told you so” looks, and you nearly pouted, spreading your arms as he helped you put the jacket on. Almost instantly, you felt warmth spread through your body and sighed in relief. Bruce also removed his scarf, and carefully wrapped around your neck, hands lingering on your face for longer than necessary when he brushed a few strands away from it.
“Better?” he murmured.
You looked at him through your lashes. He was close. Very close. So close, that you could hear your heartbeat hammering on your chest. You gave him a soft “mhm” and he returned to your side, keeping a respectful distance from you.
“Aren’t you cold?” you asked him. It made you feel terrible – it was freezing in Gotham, and you’d taken his only sources of comfort.
“I’m fine – believe me. I’d much rather have you not freezing on me.” He replied.
“Are you sure? It’s very cold.”
“I promise.”
You nodded and continued your silent stroll.
Suddenly, while crossing the street, some careless motorbike showed up out of nowhere. You shrieked in surprise, and froze in your place, closing your eyes in fear. A pair of strong arms pulled you away, and you collided with a strong figure. Bruce was holding you close, cursing the driver under his breath. Once you looked up to you look at him, he turned to you.
“Are you okay?” he asked, looking all over your face to make sure you were unharmed.
“Yeah – just – that dickhead –“
“I know. It’s like you can’t trust anyone with a license these days.” He muttered. It hurt to part from you. It was like you were made to stand next to him, body slotting perfectly with his. Reluctantly, he pulled away from you, giving you space, but was surprised when you held onto his arm, like you usually do.
You looked at him, silently asking for permission, which he granted. You scooted closer to him, and he smiled.
The two of you continued walking through the streets of Gotham, making comments on the architecture, the lighting, the people. There were small stalls selling all sorts of trinkets and goods, a sort of small Christmas market, and you smiled as you saw kids running around with balloons or cups of hot chocolate. It was dark and gloomy, but once again, Gotham could be so very beautiful.
“A pretty flower for a pretty lady?” An old vendor asked, extending a pretty rose in your direction.
“Oh, no thank you – “ you mumbled, shaking your head, but Bruce was quicker.
“Thank you.” He nodded, taking the flower in his hands. He handed the man a bill (and surely a big one at that, because the man’s eyes widened, and he stared at it for quite a while before thanking Bruce profusely.)
Bruce turned to you and handed you the flower.
You weren’t sure if it was from his jacket, or if your whole body had simply decided to set itself on fire. You took the flower and brought it up to your nose, the intoxicating smell of it filling your senses.
“Thank you,” you said, still looking at it. No one had ever bought you flowers.
“A pretty flower for a pretty lady,” he repeated the old man’s words, and continued walking with you by his side, but not without hearing the old man say something about how “beautiful it was to see love bringing people together”. You didn’t seem to have heard it, but Bruce did, and he smiled.
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It was Christmas Eve, and you were in Wayne Manor, having dinner with Bruce and Alfred (whom he begged to take a seat at the table with the two of you). There was wine and plenty of food, and the three of you had a great time, sharing funny stories and anecdotes and just enjoying each other’s companies.
You had promised your family to visit them the day after and were dead set on spending the Eve with Bruce.
After dinner, you sat near the fireplace, talking about books, movies, and whatever silly topic that came to mind. You, with your legs comfortably spread on the couch, Alfred on the big chair, and Bruce on the floor, by your feet. To him, that was the closest he had to spending Christmas with his family, and wondered if his parents would’ve enjoyed your company. Of course they’d have, he thought, you’re perfect.
After the three of you had played a few games (Alfred had won at charades, his Batman impression making you laugh for five minutes straight), you stood up announcing that, since it was almost midnight, you wanted everyone to open their gifts. It was more about you giving yours away than opening them, really – you were quite proud of the gifts you’d bought and wanted Bruce’s and Alfred’s reactions as soon as possible.
“Alright, alright, alright, me first! Here – Alfred, these are for you!” You handed him about five different packages, and he looked at you with a fond expression in his eyes.
“You didn’t have to, Miss.”
“Well, but I did. I need to spoil my swing partner, don’t I?”
He smiled at your antics and slowly opened the packages, one by one. Inside, there were a few woollen sweaters with matching-coloured ties.
“They’re really warm, you know. And it’s real wool – the quality of these is amazing! And you can even wear them without the ties, for a more casual look. What do you think? Do you like them?” you asked eagerly, hoping to get the response you wanted.
“I do, Miss. Thank you. These are lovely.”
You beamed and hugged him tightly. “Promise? There’s a receipt somewhere if you don’t like them – but I just thought they looked so cool and they were so pretty and the fabric is so soft, and – “
“Yes, Miss. I promise. Thank you. These are splendid.”
“Well, since we’re spoiling Alfred, I don’t really want to get left out.” Bruce joked, before reaching for an envelope sitting on top of the Christmas tree (decorated by the both of you on the first of December, thank you very much.) He handed his butler the envelope and sat back, awaiting his reply.
“So, you’ve finally decided to get rid of me.” Alfred said, looking at the contents of the envelope intently.
“Don’t be so dramatic, it’s just a few weeks.” Bruce replied smugly. “If anyone deserves a vacation in this house, it’s you.”
When Alfred didn’t reply, Bruce raised an eyebrow, worry starting to pool in his stomach.
“Alfred? Is everything okay?”
Alfred sighed and shook the envelope in his head.
“A ticket to the Maldives, Master Wayne? You’ve outdone yourself this time.”
Bruce grinned, nodding. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I do indeed, but, if I may express a tiny complaint…”
“Of course, Alfred. You can always speak your mind.”
“You’re a bit of a cheapskate, Master Wayne.”
You burst out laughing, nodding along with Alfred.
“A cheapskate. I see. And why is that?”
“After all I’ve done for you, three weeks of vacation seems a bit stingy, don’t you think?” Although he was saying this, he had a smile playing in his lips. Clearly none of it was serious.
“It’s not like I can function without you Alfred. Can’t have you enjoying too much time off, now, can we? You might remember just how fantastic life is outside this place and never return. You’ll be here forever. You’ve changed my diapers when I was born, and you’ll change them when I’m old and gray.”
“I knew I should’ve never accepted Thomas Wayne’s job offer back then.” He muttered. But he then turned to Bruce and gave him an earnest smile. “Thank you, sir. This is very thoughtful of you.”
After that, it was his turn to give you your presents. He gave Bruce a (very expensive) bottle of wine, that he expressed “wanted it to be opened on a very special occasion” with a wink – which made Bruce clear his throat and change the subject. You received a burgundy scarf he’d brought from his latest trip to England, from a shop you’ve expressed your admiration for a few times.
“Holy – oh my god! This is incredible, I mean, look at it!” You hugged him tightly and wrapped the scarf around your neck, not caring that it was far too warm inside the Manor for you to require a scarf.
“Well, now, it seems to be getting rather late for me,” he announced, standing up.
“Oh? You don’t wanna stay here until midnight?”
Alfred shook his head.
“I’m afraid not, Miss. I’m quite tired. I’ll be retiring for the night.”
“Alright, Alfred. Goodnight.” Bruce said with a curt nod.
“Goodnight, sir. Goodnight, Miss.”
You’d turned away to investigate your scarf once again, you missed the look Alfred gave his master, which made him sigh and look at you fondly.
“Alright – now it’s my turn! I need to go get your gift, just wait in here!” You were quick to stand up and disappear into the hallway. You’d been gone for a few minutes, so Bruce went after you, wondering if everything was alright. He bumped into you near the grand staircase at the entrance, and you jumped.
“Christ – you need to stop scaring me like that!” you reprimanded him.
Bruce chuckled, and you shook your head.
“Anyway,” you mumbled, presenting him with a small black box. “This is for you. I know it’s not nearly as fancy as the ones you already have but – well, it’s Christmas and it’s the thought that counts, is it not?” There was a certain nervousness in your voice, Bruce could feel it.
He gently took the box from you, and opened it, revealing a fancy looking black Hugo Boss watch. His fingers trailed the screen and the expensive leather strap.
“I know you have a ton of those, but I thought, hey, this one’s special, this one’s from me!” Before you could keep on with your nervous ramblings, Bruce brought you close, hugging you tightly. You smiled against his chest and wrapped your hands around his torso. This was nice. This was comfortable and familiar and nice.
“Thank you,” he whispered into your hair, and you almost melted at the cadence of his voice.
“You’re welcome.” You replied.
When you two pulled away, something caught his eye. Looking up, he realised the both of you were standing right underneath a few branches of mistletoe. You followed his eyes and blushed furiously, your whole body heating up.
Bruce said your name and you turned to look at him, feeling as light as a feather.
“Look, I – there’s something I would like to tell you.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
Bruce thought of all you’d been through together. Laughter, tears, giggles, and scowls. You’d had great times, reading books, walking around, spending time together, and bad times, when he blew you off, choosing Gotham city at night over you. He thought of all he told you, all he trusted you with.
“I just wanted to say that I really enjoy spending time with you,” he began.
“I enjoy spending time with you too.” You inched closer to him, hands still on his chest.
“You’re amazing, and I’m so glad to have you in my life. You see through my charade. I can be myself when I’m around you.”
He thought back on the charity gala, on you wearing that lovely black dress, dancing with him. He thought of holding your hand and pulling you close to him to keep you safe. He thought of your sparkly eyes and delicate lips, and how much he could stare into the former and how badly he wanted to kiss the later.
“Thank you for all you’ve done for me. I guess what I’m trying to say is…”
He thought about how badly he wanted to always be with you. How much he’d love to wake up next to you, feel your skin against his, be able to shout from the rooftops that you’re his and his alone. He thought about dropping to one knee and seeing you walking down an aisle wearing the prettiest of white dresses. He saw a lifetime with you, side by side.
“What I’m trying to say is…”
He thought about Batman.
How he’d have to cancel date after date after date, prioritising the black suit over your relationship. He thought of you getting worried sick when he got home late, frowning as you looked at his scars and bruises. He could see it vividly, how you’d cry and beg him not to leave you, to choose you over the city for once in his life, and how he’d leave you to cry all of your tears as he put the cowl on.
“Is…”
“Is…?” You pressed further, eyes dropping to his lips.
He saw argument after argument, saw you screaming at him, accusing him of not loving you. He saw nights spent in the couch, because you were far too angry to let him in your bed. He saw your sad eyes welling up with tears in the middle of romantic dates after he’d told you he had to go because the bat signal was shining in the night sky. He thought about someone finding his identity and going after you first and foremost. He saw you tied up in some random chair, mouth gagged and tears running down your streak as some criminal tortured you to get to him.
He saw your lifeless body inside a coffin, skin devoid of colour, eyes closed, to never open again, and how he’d spend the rest of his life hating both himself and his mask.
He thought about Bruce Wayne, and Batman.
And he realised you couldn’t possibly love both.
“Is… You’re a great friend. Thank you.” He squeezed your arms in a comforting manner and walked away, leaving you wide eyed and speechless under the mistletoe.
Later, he’d gift you the first edition of your favourite classic novel and wish you goodnight with a polite nod of his head, going up to his bedroom.
Before he went to sleep, he locked the pearl earrings and his mother’s necklace inside his drawer.
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Things were awkward between you two. Your friendship with Bruce was still there, but he was sort of distant. Your weekly book club meetings still happened, and he still dropped by your café to drink coffee and try new cupcake recipes, but everything seemed to have changed after Christmas Eve.
So, you tried to move on with your life.
A few weeks after Christmas, your bakery started to work with a new supplier, and you quickly befriended the delivery guy, Tom. While you started to look forward to his visits more and more, it still did not feel the same as when you were with Bruce, and you felt guilty for hanging out with him.
One day, Bruce came in for his regular cup of coffee and a cupcake and found you smiling and giggling at a guy at the counter. His first reaction was to punch the guy to next Sunday, but thankfully he calmed down and approached you with a polite smile on his face.
“Hey there,” he greeted you, not sparing Tom a single glance.
“Oh! Hey Bruce – this is Tom. He’s the delivery guy from the new supplier.” Tom’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull when he realised the Bruce Wayne was standing in front of him and tried his best to shake his hand nonchalantly.
“I’ll be right with you,” you told him, and continued your conversation with Tom.
Fucking Tom. Who even was this guy?
And why were you smiling so much? What the fuck did he have that Bruce didn’t?
Most likely, it was what Bruce didn’t have that make a difference – a mask, a secret identity, a promise made to Gotham.
After you were done chatting with the delivery guy, you placed a cupcake and a cup of coffee in front of Bruce, but instead of sitting down with him, you returned to the counter and resumed your conversation.
Bruce cursed himself mentally.
On Christmas day, after you’d left, Alfred had asked what happened.
Bruce told him everything. How he couldn’t be with you because of Batman, how he couldn’t risk your safety and life, how he pushed you away.
Alfred lectured him, telling his master that his mask was going to be the end of him, but Bruce refused to listen and went to the batcave to busy himself and get his mind off you.
As he looked at you now, radiant and smiling at someone else, he realised that he might’ve made a big, big mistake.
It wasn’t long until you two started dating. It was casual, nothing too serious, but Bruce still seethed on the inside. He found himself staring at you for longer, hands lingering on yours whenever he touched you, and his heart ached more and more whenever he saw you with Tom.
You seemed so happy with him.
Seemed.
Because the truth was, you weren’t doing as well as Bruce thought you were. Tom was a nice man, yeah, but there was something off about the whole thing. He was good looking, yes, and very kind. He listened to you and made you, his priority. He was a dream. But there was just one problem, he wasn’t Bruce.
When you two went out, you often found yourself wishing it was Bruce’s arms wrapped around you. When you two went shopping and you decided to go try on a few hand lotions, Tom simply bent over to sniff your hand, and you were brought back to that time last November when Bruce held you with such gentleness, you nearly melted.
Tom always reminded you to bring a jacket, and you did so diligently, unconsciously put off by the idea of wearing his. He’d once given it to you, and it just wasn’t the same. He didn’t wrap it around you securely, he didn’t brush the hair away from your face, he didn’t look at you the way Bruce did. He was an amazing guy, and you liked him.
But that was it.
Still, you kept your relationship going, hoping your feelings would change.
After all, it’s not like you had ever felt anything for Bruce, right?
He was just a good friend.
You enjoyed spending time with him, sure, but that was it.
So, you looked forward to every time the two of you hung out. And your heartbeat quickened every time he was near. You couldn’t get your eyes off him. You easily got angry or upset whenever other women looked at him, and even more so when he entertained their advances. You longed to have him hold you in your arms.
But that was all normal, right? It just meant you were great friends.
You mind goes back to Christmas Eve, and the way he hugged you. Standing under that mistletoe, there was nothing you wanted more than to kiss him. You remember looking at him and wishing so bad that he would lean down and press his lips against yours. Just friends don’t kiss.
And that’s what you were to him – just a friend. He’d say that himself.
So why were you so heartbroken?
Looking at an empty coffee mug, it suddenly hit you like a train.
You were in love with Bruce Wayne.
And he didn’t love you back.
So there was no need to feel guilty over going out with Tom, right? Even if you didn’t particularly want to kiss him and didn’t want his hands around you when you two went out. Even if you were reluctant to introduce you as “your boyfriend” and had more than once ditched him to stay home and rethink your life decisions.
Even if when the two of you went out on dates, you barely paid any attention to him, focusing on the times you’d sat down with Bruce over a drink and just laughed your asses off and spoke until the crack of dawn.
Even if you didn’t really love Tom.
Yeah. No need at all.
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On a lovely April afternoon, you were helping Bruce do some spring cleaning. You were both wearing some casual, old clothes, and helping Alfred to make sure the Manor ended up spotless.
You were currently in charge of the spacious living room, carefully placing picture frames on top of the coffee table so you could clean the fireplace. You looked at the framed memories. Pictures of Bruce as a child, or with his parents. There was one with a young Bruce standing on his father’s shoulders, and another one of him hugging Alfred.
You smiled to yourself. What a cute kid, he was. He seemed so happy.
There were pictures of him with Rachel, knees scraped and clothes dirty from the mud, and some with you. Your gaze lingered on those.
There was one framed selfie with the two of you, faces full of flour and whipped cream. You’d been teaching him how to bake, but the whole ordeal ended up in a small food fight – which he’d won. You chuckled at the memories of trying to teach Mr. “I’m far too rich to cook because I have people to do it for me” how to measure cups of flour, and break eggs. You’d held onto his arms and guided him to make sure he got the measurements just right.
Something inside of you flared up the memory.
The other picture in your hand had been taken at the Carrington gala.
You were wearing your pretty (and extremely expensive) black dress and were smiling at the camera. You were leaning into Bruce’s touch, who was holding you close by the waist. Instead of looking at the camera, he was instead looking at you.
Somehow, tears had clouded your vision.
How you had loved dancing with him. Being held by him as if you were the only person in the world he cared about. Your fingers traced his figure in the picture, and a tear fell down your cheek, falling on top of the glass.
“Hey, are you done with the fireplace?” You jumped at the voice behind you, and dropped the frame, which fell on the floor and broke into a million little pieces.
“Shit!” you mumbled, quick to crouch and try to pick up each glass shard. Bruce was quicker though, and made his way towards you, pulling you away from the soiled floor.
“No, get away from this, you might get hurt. I’ll call Alfred and – “ he looked at you and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Tears were streaming down your face, and you couldn’t look away from the mess you had made. “Hey, are you okay?”
“I’m sorry,” you choked back a sob. “I’m so sorry – I broke it.”
“No, no. It’s okay, we’ll just get a new frame.” Bruce assured you, hands resting on your shoulders.
“No – fuck ­– it’s not okay! None of this is okay!” You cried, and he pulled you against his chest, running his fingers through your hair.
“It’s just a frame. We’ll get a new one. And we’ll clean the floor.”
You cried in his arms for a while, until your sobs subsided into quiet sniffs. Bruce didn’t really know what to do, so he stood there, holding you tight. He’d never let you go.
After a while, you broke the silence.
“I – “ sniff, “ – I broke up with Tom,” you mumbled.
Bruce’s expression was one of surprise. Really? Why would you though? You two seemed happy.
“I… I don’t really think I liked him…” you continued; voice muffled by his chest. “I think I was dating him simply because I wanted to forget you…”
What?
He looked at you, but you refused to face him, face pressing harder against his chest.
“I’m such an idiot, Bruce… Everything was fine, and then I went and fell for you… And now our friendship is going to be ruined, and I broke your picture frame…”
Bruce held you tighter. You fell for him?
“I’m sorry, Bruce… I’m so sorry – I promise I’ll fix this. I – I’ll stop loving you and we can go back to being friends, and – “
Bruce used his thumb to lift your face up and looked straight into your eyes. There was nowhere to run. You were trapped, and so was he.
“You love me?” he asked, voice as soft as you’d ever heard it.
You couldn’t bring yourself to say those words out loud, so you opted for nodding.
“But – Tom –“
“Tom was a distraction,” you sniffled, “And I feel terrible about it. But I didn’t really like him. I just wanted to forget about you.”
“You love me,” Bruce repeated, using the same thumb to rub circles on the skin of your cheek. His gaze fell on your lips.
He had two choices. He could let you go once again. He could walk away from you, tell you he didn’t love you back. He could watch as you eventually moved on with your life (this time for real) and protect you from having to choose between Bruce Wayne and Batman.
He could give up the love of his life forever.
Or he could kiss you. He could tell you how he felt. He could trust you with that darker side of him, and you two could figure it out along the way. He could take it easy. He could bare his heart and finally tell you how you felt.
Two sides of him fought against each other, but ultimately, one was stronger.
He bent down and took your lips in his, sliding his hands up to your face to cradle it.
You were surprised to say the least, but pleasantly so. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him back with vigour, tears of happiness falling down your cheeks. How you’d wanted this. And now, it was finally happening.
When you two parted for air, Bruce refused to let you go, standing mere inches away from you. His nose nuzzled yours, and he whispered a quiet, “I love you.”
You don’t know wat surprised you more. That he’d say it, or that you said it back.
“I love you too,” you smiled, pressing yourself against him and kissing him once again.
Bruce wrapped his arms around you, attempting to convey all his feelings for you in a simple kiss. All the longing, the love, the desire, the friendship. Everything he couldn’t find the words to say, he poured into that kiss. And you smiled, accepting all his confessions, all his words.
“Well, it was about time, don’t you two think?” Alfred said from across the room.
You jumped and just stared at him, embarrassment overtaking you.
“Yes, I’m talking about you two. Do you know how bothersome it was to see you moping around and sulking because you hadn’t kissed her on Christmas Eve, sir?” he asked, crossing his arms.
“I – You wanted to kiss me on Christmas Eve?” you turned to Bruce and gave him a soft smile.
“I did. I really did. I’m so sorry I didn’t.” he replied, before looking at Alfred. “Could you please leave us alone now? I don’t really recall paying you to mind my business.”
“You don’t pay me enough not to, sir.” The butler replied with a cheeky grin and that “I have the high ground, for I am British and old and wise” smug look of his. “I am glad to see the both of you are finally getting along. If you need me, I’ll be cleaning the Manor, since no one in this house does it.”
You laughed and faced Bruce once again, cupping his cheek.
“I thought you didn’t even like me. I mean, on Christmas…”
“I’m sorry about Christmas. I really did want to kiss you, it’s just… There are things about me – things you don’t know. And I’m afraid of telling you because I don’t want you to get hurt.” He replied, hand coming up to touch yours.
“You can tell me anything Bruce, you know it. Right?”
He nodded, and hugged you close one more time.
“I do. And I love you. I really mean it.”
Bruce could hear the smile in your voice when you replied.
“I love you too.”
For once in his life, Bruce Wayne did not feel completely alone. On the next room, he had his trusted butler, who had raised him as his own and acted like a parental figure all these years. And in his arms, he had you. The love of his life, the woman he loved the most in the world.
Holding you close to him, he knew he could trust you, no matter what. He knew you’d accept him, because if anyone would, it was you. And he would cherish that forever.
Later that night, a small white box was taken out of a locked drawer and placed inside of his pocket.
Bruce led you to the same spot you’d been on Christmas Eve, handed you the small box, and after carefully placing the necklace around your neck, finally kissed you.
There was no way he was ever letting go of you.
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A/N: And that's it! I hope I was able to do both this trilogy and this request justice, I was really worried about it. I wrote most of it in one sitting, you have no idea, I just kept on writing and writing and writing and when I realised it, it'd gotten kinda long and out of hand.
I also hope this Tom character wasn't useless? I mean, he sorta was, he was just a plot device, but I hope he didn't feel rushed or whatever.
Anyways, I hope you guys liked it! I really do!
Have an amazing day, everyone! <3
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fics-n-stuff · 1 year
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The Interview (and the year and a half to follow)
Pairing: Eddie Munson × Steve Harrington
Summary: When rockstar Eddie Munson reveals that he's married, and to a teacher no less, his fans don't know what to do with themselves. Steve and Eddie, especially Eddie, love the chaos. And he can't help but keep declaring his love for his mystery husband.
Word Count: 2.7k
A/N: This is a modern AU in which Steddie are in their early thirties and everyone else is aged up accordingly, and it's truly incredibly sappy. I wrote this all in one go at 2-4am before a shift at 9am, so it could be a masterpiece or it could be crap. You decide!
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"My husband is a middle school teacher." Eddie had said, just trying to give the interviewer a little bit of background on his life. He hadn't expected it to set the internet on fire. 
HE'S MARRIED?? TO A TEACHER?????
I CAN'T EVEN IMAGINE WHAT HIS HUSBAND COULD BE LIKE!!!
IS IT AN OPPOSITES ATTRACT KIND OF RELATIONSHIP OR IS EDDIE'S HUSBAND JUST THE MOST HARDCORE TEACHER EVER??
ONLY A LEGEND LIKE EDDIE MUNSON COULD DROP SUCH A BOMBSHELL SO CASUALLY!!
"Eds, what the hell did you do?"
"All I did was say that my husband is a middle school teacher and now everyone's obsessed with you. I think they like the idea that I have a soft side."
"You're nothing but soft sides." Steve chuckled, engulfing Eddie in his arms as they cuddled on the couch. "Maybe I should be the famous one."
"In your dreams, Harrington." Eddie scoffed, playfully smacking him on the shoulder.
"If they like the idea that you're secretly a softie, maybe you should tell them that we're an emergency foster home. Or that we have seven pseudo-children."
"One thing at a time, babe. I don't want to set the world on fire."
Eddie didn't do another interview for a while. He was busy producing his band's next album, their fifth one, and spending time with friends and family between tours. But when Corroded Coffin was invited to be the musical guest on a late night show two months later, partly to promote a movie that Eddie was in (it would be his acting debut and he would be lying if he said he wasn't terrified that people would think he was absolutely horrendous), he had almost forgotten about the frenzy he had whipped his fanbase into at the reveal of the existence of his husband.
"So, a couple of months ago you let slip that your husband is a teacher." The host said to him when he sat down after performing his song, and the audience cheered. These were the questions they wanted answered.
"Yeah, a lot of people were surprised to hear that I'm married but I've been wearing a wedding ring for six years." Eddie smiled, holding his left hand up to the camera to display the simple silver wedding band on his ring finger. "I guess nobody really noticed because I wear a lot of rings."
"That's insane, you've been married for six years?" The host exclaimed, and Eddie nodded with a chuckle. "I have to ask, how did you two meet? I mean, a heavy metal rockstar and a middle school teacher are not a conventional pair."
"We met in high school." Eddie answered, and the audience awed. "Well, technically, he had just graduated high school and I was on my second repeat of senior year. We met through some mutual friends."
"That's so sweet. Isn't that so sweet?" The audience cheered at the host's prompt and Eddie giggled, his hair falling into his face. "Was it a love at first sight thing? How did you end up together?"
"Um, kind of. It was strange, he was a popular jock in high school and I was about as weird and unpopular as they got, but once we got to know each other outside of school we clicked fast. And he's hot, like really hot, so I fell immediately." The crowd laughed.
"Wow, that's fantastic. But, anyway, I need to move on before I get carried away. Let's talk about this movie you're in."
"Yes, let's."
Steve was watching the show at home, sat on the couch with Robin on one side and Dustin on the other who were poking and teasing him as they watched the tooth-rottingly sweet interview. Robin was the one who hopped onto Twitter to see what people were saying, and, once again, social media was ablaze. #eddiemunsonhusband was trending the whole next day, and Steve and Eddie found it hugely amusing. 
Eddie slowly started opening up about his personal life after the overwhelmingly positive response to all his husband talk. At the premier of his movie, he walked Robin down the red carpet with him, telling the interviewers that the two of them and his husband were all roommates for a few years in his early twenties. In a radio interview he did in the lead up to his album release, he talked about how he ran the Hellfire Club in high school and how he was still friends with and still semi-regularly DMed for the kids that were in the club, and he told them about how one of the Hellfire kids was the one to initially introduce him to his husband. When the album released and the band did an interview with Rolling Stone, he told them about how supportive everyone in his life was of his music. He told them about the night's he would stay up writing Corroded Coffin's first album, his husband - then boyfriend - doting on him the entire time. And all of this served to fan the flames of his follower base because, even in opening up about his life and his friends and family, he never revealed who his husband was.
Steve didn't go to many of Eddie's public appearances. He never had; it wasn't his scene. And when he did, they kept their distance and kept things discreet until they were inside and there were no more cameras. When Eddie went out and released another morsel of information about his life, Steve sat at home grading papers or planning lessons and smiling to himself about his chaotic rockstar husband. 
And then it was time for Eddie to go on tour again. Steve hated saying goodbye when Eddie went on tour. 
The tour started in California and slowly snaked it's way across all fifty states, stealing Eddie away from their home in Indianapolis for six months. The faculty at Steve's school kept asking what was wrong in the first few weeks after Eddie left. He told them that his husband was travelling for work.
Eddie missed Steve too. Unapologetically so. For the first time on tour, he felt comfortable mentioning his husband. Every other night he brought up how much he missed him, usually as an introduction to one of their songs; one of the softer ones, off of their third album, that he wrote about Steve right after they got married. The audience ate it up every time. His bandmates always rolled their eyes and teased him after the show.
Eddie's tour landed back in Indiana right after Spring Break. Steve was thrilled to have him back, even if it was brief before he moved on to the next state. And Eddie was thrilled to know that, as he played his first night in Indianapolis, Steve was out in the crowd watching. Will, El and Mike had been out in the crowd when he played in California, Max and Lucas had come to see him in their recent new home of Chicago, and Erica, Nancy and Johnathan would be there when he played in New York City. But tonight he knew that Steve was out there in the crowd, with Dustin and Robin, screaming and cheering for him like he had from the start.
"Alright, this is the part of the show where I normally get all sappy about how much I miss my husband." Eddie said into the microphone, his skin gleaming with sweat. His fans cheered. "But not tonight. Because tonight, I'm pleased to say, my husband is here in the crowd." His fans screamed even louder. "And no matter how much you try you're not gonna spot him. You wanna know why? Because he's wearing my clothes so that he blends in with the crowd." Eddie grinned. The audience went wild. "This next one's just for you, sweetheart." 
Out in the audience, dressed in a pair of Eddie's black jeans, a pair of Eddie's bulky boots and a t-shirt from Corroded Coffin's last tour, Steve felt his heart swell.
A year after the revelation of Eddie Munson's husband came the revelation of Eddie Munson's kid. Like the chaos gremlin he is, Eddie took to Twitter on a Thursday afternoon and casually announced that he and his husband were fostering a kid with the intention to adopt.
Like clockwork, the internet set ablaze.
The eleven year old girl had been in Steve and Eddie's care three times over the past two years before the adoption, spending about eight months in their care over the three stays. Then, when Eddie had been in the last month of his tour, Steve got the call that a kid needed a place to stay. Steve had got the second bedroom ready with clean bedding, made sure the cupboards were stocked with snacks. And when the social workers arrived, the girl had launched herself into Steve's arms, babbling about how happy she was that she had ended up with Steve and Eddie again.
It was unusual for Steve and Eddie to see so much of the same kid. They were an emergency foster home, they usually only saw kids for a few nights or a couple of weeks. And it was the same with her the first time she stayed with them. She stayed for twelve days before she moved to a different home. But then she was back. Only three weeks later she was back in their care and, for whatever reason, that's where she stayed for the next five months. It had been a year since Corroded Coffin released their fourth album, and they had decided they were taking their time with the next one, so Eddie was home and not very busy and perfectly happy hanging out with the kid that they hadn't expected to have for so long.
She went back to her parents at the end of the five months, much to Steve and Eddie's disapproval. But they hoped that they had cleaned up their act and she would be going back to a more child friendly environment. Unfortunately, she was back a year later. The social workers had brought her back to Steve and Eddie and asked if they could keep her for a few months again. Of course, they enthusiastically agreed, and the three of them settled in together for the next three months until she was taken back to her family again.
The third time was the final strike. There was no way she was going to be placed back into her parents' care. Steve had volunteered them to foster her for as long as they could. She had always been a wonderful addition to the home ever since her first stay.
When Eddie got home he was thrilled to see her. He'd been filled in on the situation over call, of course, but you couldn't hug someone over the phone. It was only a couple of weeks after Eddie got home that he and Steve started talking about the possibility of adoption.
Steve and Eddie had always wanted kids. At first, they had planned on adopting a baby, but after involving themselves in the foster system and seeing the demand that there was for people to take in older kids they decided that that was their calling. The girl coming into their lives in the way that she did felt almost like fate. And so they sat her down and asked her how she would feel about the whole thing. Much to their delight, she had enthusiastically agreed to the idea, and they started the process immediately. Eddie felt like this was a major development in his life and he wanted to share it - at least a vague bit of it - and so a month later he took to Twitter.
Things went pretty quiet after that. Eddie's label was organising for a European tour, but he made sure it wasn't too soon so that he would be around for the adoption process. And that was where he put all of his energy: into his kid.
The girl attended the school that Steve taught at, and Eddie signed her up for a dance class when she mentioned an interest. Steve helped her with her homework and bought her books and had long conversations with her in which he taught her things without her even realising that she was learning. Eddie nurtured her creative side, buying her art supplies and teaching her guitar and singing Disney karaoke with her on the weekends.
Corroded Coffin was nominated for a Grammy. It wasn't their first nomination but Eddie was excited about it anyway. They hadn't won a Grammy yet, there only really being one category for metal music and plenty of artists deserving of the award.
Steve and Eddie had their first Christmas with a kid. Wayne came over like he did every year, making it a real family affair. They went overboard with the decorations and wracked their brains for the best gifts to buy. They made a gingerbread house and watched an obscene amount of Christmas movies, and it was the best Christmas they'd ever had.
The adoption was finalised at the end of January. The whole thing had been smooth sailing, Steve and Eddie having proved more than capable of taking care of a child over the years. And now they had a kid and they were officially a family and things couldn't have been better.
And then Corroded Coffin won the Grammy for Best Metal Performance. Steve and their daughter had leapt off of the couch with cheers and whoops and fists waving in the air. And after his bandmates had taken turns at the microphone thanking their management and their fans and their families, Eddie had taken his turn for a speech.
"I have so many people that I want to thank, and they know who they are. My uncle Wayne, the Hellfire kids and all my other friends from back home, all of our fans and every friend we've made in the industry. But, obviously, I want to thank my amazing husband for tolerating my chaos and the fact that I write best in the middle of the night. And I also promise to try and change that habit now that we have a kid in the house, and you're allowed to hold me to that." He gave his speech with a massive grin, trophy gripped tightly in his hands, and when he stepped off stage he split off from his band and excused himself to call Steve, who had secretly bought a bottle of champagne and Eddie's favourite cake from his favourite place to celebrate the victory (because he'd had a gut feeling that Corroded Coffin was going to finally win this one).
Then, as if it had crept up on them, it was time for the European tour, which would steal Eddie away from his husband and daughter for even longer than the US tour. 
Right before he boarded the plane, Eddie opened up Instagram, ready to cause one last stir.
The picture was one of Eddie's new favourites. Robin had taken it in their garden when she came over to hang out one random afternoon. Eddie was dressed peak rockstar, distressed black jeans and a studded leather jacket, chains dangling off him and hands covered in rings. And Steve was peak teacher, all blue jeans and a soft grey sweater, and glasses balanced on his nose. He was giving their daughter a piggyback, but the picture was from just an angle that you couldn't see her face, because she deserved her privacy even if her new dad was a rockstar. 
Now that it's all official and I find myself with this perfect little family, I think it's time to finally show you all the amazing man that I share my life with. Everyone, meet Steve.
And, for the final time, the internet went crazy. It was unanimous; they loved Steve. And Eddie couldn't blame them, because he loved Steve too.
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megxplryxb · 1 year
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Just thinking about how Steve Harrington is completely obsessed with your pussy.
Minors DNI!
Steve Harrington always classed himself as the ultimate boob guy.
Big or small, it didn't matter, Steve didn't discriminate.
Once he got to see them, touch them, play with them, squeeze them, suck them, bite them, lick them, he was happy.
Then you came along, all sweet and innocent and oh so pretty.
A heatwave had taken over Hawkins in the summer of 87' and you were on your way to Family Video with your friend, who was dropping back a copy of Footloose four days late.
You'd been at the community pool all day, so you were just wearing a bikini top and denim shorts when you entered the store.
You were rummaging through the horror section, cringing while your friend tried her best to flirt with the insanely cute guy behind the counter so he wouldn't charge her a late fee (again).
What you didn't notice was that he hadn't heard a word of your friends excuses, too preoccupied by your bright pink bikini and freshly tanned breasts spilling over the top.
Steve was practically drooling at the mere sight of you, little water droplets from your wet hair, sliding down your cleavage, the air conditioning in the store making your nipples a little more noticeable through the light material of your bikini. Christ, you were fucking gorgeous.
He was praying you wouldn't ask for help finding some movie out on the rack because his dick was rock hard and the only thing shielding him was the tall desk he was standing behind.
Your friend eventually noticed him staring at you and not her, deciding to use his obvious interest in you to her advantage. "She's single, you know? I could totally get you a date if you forget about the late fee policy...Steve?" She smiled, playing with his name tag.
He took another glance in your direction and when you noticed him staring at you, you smiled back, pulling wet strands of hair behind your ear, blushing brightly. You were fucking adorable and he knew he was already done for.
"Consider it forgotten." He smirked, before your friend went to grab your hand, dragging you towards the counter to introduce you to Steve Harrington.
Now, you'd been together for three incredible months and he was downright smitten with you.
You were still a virgin when you started dating and Steve was totally happy to take it slow, content with occupying himself with your boobies until you were ready for more.
There was something about you being untouched that really turned him on though. The innocence, the purity, the fact that you wanted him to be the one to take your virginity. He was truly honoured.
Steve loved that he was going to be the only one who got to touch you and when the time came, he’d make it as special as he could for you.
One night, after making out on his bed for what seemed like an eternity, you felt a wet patch form between your legs. It wasn’t the first time it happened, but it was the first time you had been confident enough to lie on Steve’s bed in just your underwear.
Embarrassed, you sat up on the bed, pulling Steve’s old basketball jersey that you wore when you slept at his, over your head and down around your knees, trying to hide your now soaked panties from his view.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” Steve asked, noticing how tense you’d become. Rubbing your knees, hanging his chin on your shoulder. “Come on honey, you know you can tell me anything, yeah?”
“It’s embarrassing, Steve.” You sighed, hiding your face in your hands as he knelt on the bed, facing you, waiting for you to speak again.
“S’just, when we kiss…like that, for a long time, I get really…”
“Turned on?” He smiled, your cheeks flushing as you spread your legs to show him the wet spot on your baby pink panties. “Mhm.” You hummed, watching as his eyes made their way down to your underwear.
"Wow, and that’s because of me, huh?" He swallowed hard, licking his lips, feeling his dick twitch in his grey sweatpants just from looking at your soaked panties.
You looked so beautiful, so virtuous and pure, trying hard to cover your body. He wanted so badly to show you just how beautiful you really were, that you had nothing to be ashamed of.
"Baby, s'nothing to be embarrassed about, it's actually really sexy." He whispered, running his soft fingers along your inner thighs, sending a shiver down your spine, causing you to whimper out loud.
“It is?” You asked, looking at him. “Oh yeah, honey, the fact that you’re that wet because of me? Christ, I’m getting hard just thinking about it.” He admitted, grinning at you.
“I can see that.” You tease, tugging at the waistband of his pants, pulling him down to you.
"Can I touch you pretty girl, would that be ok?" He asks, cupping your cheek.
"Yeah Stevie, it's ok...I want that. I want you to touch me." You begged, as he peppered kisses all down your neck.
"Just relax honey, gonna make you feel good hmm?" He said, palming over your panties, rubbing his fingers gently over the light fabric.
He placed the pad of his thumb over the wet spot on your underwear, applying a little more pressure as he began to move his thumb around. He smirked as you arched your back, moving in to his touch. "That feel good, honey, should I keep going?" He purred as you could only nod, watching as he hooked a finger in to your panties, pulling them to the side, mouth drooling at the vision in front of him.
You bit your lip, watching nervously as Steve placed a hand over his mouth.
"Holy shit baby, you have the prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen...s'jus so perfect." He swallowed, gently slipping one digit between your soaking folds as you let out the sweetest moan the boy had ever heard, immediately responding to his touch.
He circled your clit achingly slow, using only one finger to tease you. It was a new sensation, having only ever used your own hands to pleasure yourself.
"S-stevie that feels so good." You whined, struggling to stay still as he dipped a finger inside your wet core.
"Fuck baby, you're so tight. We're gonna have to take things nice and slow. Need to stretch this gorgeous pussy out, don't wanna hurt you sweet girl."
You so badly wanted him to make love to you right then and there but you knew Steve was big and there was no way you were ready to take him just yet and Steve would never push.
He was so mesmerised by the noises you were making, looking like an angel underneath him, rubbing your clit with his thumb, while his middle and index fingers slid in and out of your weeping hole.
You bit your lip as the heat began to take over your body, a familiar yet more intense feeling building in your tummy.
"Steve, oh, don't stop...I'm...." "You gonna cum baby? I can feel you clenching around my fingers, just let go for me honey, let go, s’ok I got you.” He whispered, kissing your neck as you nestled in to his.
Steve's voice alone was enough to send you over the edge, gripping the bedsheet tight, toes curling as your orgasm reached its peak.
It was right then that something woke inside of Steve, the feeling of you coming undone under him, body writhing. He almost came in his pants, feeling your pussy pulsate as you came down from your high, while you tried to catch your breath.
You wanted to continue, wanted to give him the same release you had been given but Steve wanted this to be about you. He could wait.
He was hypnotised by how beautiful you were. Sweat glistening from your chest, as he wrapped his duvet around your body, pulling you to his chest as you both fell asleep.
The next couple of nights went much the same, but this time Steve crawled between your legs, stimulating your clit until it was completely swollen. It was a little game he played now, teasing your clit, bringing you to the brink of climax just so he could watch your little bundle of nerves get all pink and puffy.
He just couldn’t wait anymore, he was dying to taste your pussy, kissing your inner thighs as his hair tickled your legs.
You were shocked that he wanted to go down on you, you’d heard from your friends that most guys weren’t in to that, always preferring to get rather than give.
But Steve was here, ready and willing, head between your legs, licking his lips. Waiting patiently for your approval.
“I’ve been thinking about this moment ever since the day you walked in to the video store you y’know?” Steve murmured into your thighs, running his tongue all over your skin. “That little pink bikini you were wearin’ when you walked in, fuck, you looked like every man’s wet dream, honey. Knew right then I needed to have you, had to taste you.” He teased, placing your lace panties back over your clit, grinning at you as his tongue rolled from his mouth and over the laced fabric, making you flinch with the sudden pressure of his warm, wet, muscle on your underwear.
Steve ran his tongue over your panties a few more times until you could no longer take the teasing. “Steve please…” You begged as he lifted his head to look at you.
“Please what baby? What do you need, pretty girl? You know I’ll give you anything you want, yeah?”
“I want you to…taste me.” You breathed as Steve began to remove your underwear, pulling them below your knees until they fell to the floor.
“You want me to eat your pretty little pussy out honey?” He whispered, blowing cold air over your clit, making you jump.
“Mhm, want you to eat me out Stevie, I need it.” You whimpered as his tongue finally made contact with your bare cunt, moaning in to you as he did so. “Taste fucking amazing, sweetheart.”
“Fuck Stevie.” You hissed as he continued to lap up your juices, moving up and down, nose pressed to your clit.
Again, you could feel your stomach tighten. Body grinding in to his face, as he threw your legs over his shoulders, tongue darting deeper in to you. It was getting embarrassing how quick he could make you cum.
He knew you were close by the little moans you were making, tugging his hair, squeezing your thighs. His tongue moving at an obscene pace, slurping up your juices like he was going die of thirst if he didn’t.
But this time as you came, he didn’t stop like he usually did. Steve just kept going, refusing to let you pull away from him, gripping your hips a little meaner, holding you in place.
“Stevie, I can’t… it feels too good.” You whined, biting your lip, trying to stop yourself from screaming out.
“I know baby, s’just you taste so fucking good, could eat this pussy all night.” He hummed, kissing your inner thighs before licking a long, wet, stripe up your slit.
His fingers teased your entrance, collecting your slick and his spit before he gently pushed two digits inside.”
“Oh…my god. Steve, please, I can’t take it.” You squealed, forehead damp with sweat, watching him pump in and out of you faster and faster. His hot mouth completely focused on devouring your swollen nub. His own moans vibrating through your pussy as he continued to bully your sensitive clit.
Your breathing became heavy once more, body tensing, back arching and you knew your next orgasm was approaching quick.
But something felt different, an unusual pressure rising in your lower body, more extreme than you’d ever experienced. It felt like you were going to explode.
Stevie, baby… there’s something..I need to, oh shit, oh my god, oh my god!” You cried, tightening your pussy as Steve kept pumping in to you, harder and faster while you whimpered, hearing the obscene squelching of his fingers fucking you, become less frequent.
“Holy shit, honey.” Steve groaned, almost animalistic as you felt the sheets underneath you begin to dampen.
“Wh…what happened?” You breathed as Steve finally ceased his mission. Mouth wide open in amazement.
“You just squirted all over my fingers and it was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” He revealed, falling on top of your body, catching your lips with his.
“That’s never happened to me before, I’ve never done that…”. You blushed, feeling embarrassed that you soaked your boyfriends sheets.
“I’ve never made anyone do that before. I was beginning to think it was a myth. You’re something else, you know that sweetheart?” He teased, as you felt his now soaked pants on your bare thigh.
“Oh my god Stevie, did I do that to your pants when I…I’m so sorry!” You sighed, mortified as he shook his head, laughing.
“No baby, that was my fault. I sorta blew my load when you squirted for me. It was just so damn sexy.” He murmured in your ear.
“I think you mean messy.” You joked as Steve nodded his head. “Totally worth it, though. I can’t wait to make you do that again.” He grinned, excitedly as you giggled at your boyfriend, who was taking one more look at his handiwork before running to the bathroom to run you both a hot bath to clean up the mess he had created.
Thanks to you, Steve Harrington was no longer a boob guy, he was a bonafide pussy worshiper.
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You could drink your whole life away and still never get that taste out of your mouth.
half commission for @salempie half completely self indulgent dreck pieced together from our insane conversations abt franke and elka. told myself id finally write a big explanation for all of the dum shit between these two for context so Thats Under The Cut.
so I already wrote some stuff about elka and franke's relationship back in whispering rock so feel free to look at that too . it goes over elkas blindness/‘seeing’ with clairvoyance and how her and franke started talking & all that good stuff
SO FOR STARTERS. a lot of thsi wont make sense without a big breakdown of elka herself. because elkas potential as a character is like insane to me. like just the idea of her in the long run of her life reads as something so potentially tragic; a young girl whos plagued with visions of doom and destined to be an outcast even in her own home for things she cant control and clings to the One vision of her wedding that she thinks is 'happy' even despite the fact she doesnt really love the person in it. im choosing to take the li-po doc as canon here because its funny shes the only one with backstory-
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but my fucking god even the smallest look into what her parents are like is soo fucked up to me. and i do think elka especially gets a lot of influence from her mother; its funny how easily you can fit mabel doom into a box just from what elka says about her. knees deep in an avon-esque pyramid scheme and leaning into her daughters depressing ass visions & taking her to therapy at age 11 (which would be good if not for the kind of person you can already assume she is & so i doubt the therapist she has really does her any good. i think they share one). she reads as a very I Am My Daughters Best Friend type of mom to me and i can see elka being a centerpiece of the conversation when she has her Amway Girls over for drinks. wine-mom that lets her kid sip from the glass so she can feel like a big girl type deal.
and you can tell that elka is trying to hard to be too mature for her age even in her campster posts. how she writes letters to nils' mom and exchanges baking recipes with her and that feels like she really only interacts with middle aged women and not really many people her own age outside of camp (like her moms friends). which makes sense shed feel the need to ‘grow up’ early when shes probably had to process so many hard things at a young age bc of her visions.
theres a lot of filling the blanks here of course.
elka obsesses over nils to an overbearing degree even despite the fact he treats her like shit ('you promised no talking' and so on) and she treats him bad right back. she leans onto stereotypical heterosexual ideals like taking care of him and overblowing how Manly and Protective JT is and she admires romance stories like pride and prejudice and it feels like she Projects Soooooooo much of what she wants onto boys she barely feels anything for without knowing what its actually supposed to feel like. and clearly she WANTS that ideal future, a happy marriage, an actual romance- but according to nils even when they were dating she ignored him most of the time, which just seems Very Telling
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like shes filling a role, overcompensating for emotions and lacktherof she cant digest quite yet, and it only makes more sense when you know shes had visions of their future together. how could that be bad for her? shouldnt it be like the books and movies? but she doesnt really connect the fact that her visions are only for Doomed futures, and if she does she certainly doesnt show it. Doomed relationships. it's been a part of her family for generations and she isn't turning out much different, is she? i dont think she even realizes thats all she ever sees yet, just that its Going to happen. that it's Her future, and it always will be
and like, her only reference for a real marriage so far has been her own parents, and she already Knows they have an affair, and theyre doomed to split, (and i actually like to think they were in rough waters anyway and elka was a child meant to mend a crumbling marriage but thats a whole other thing) and so without a framework for what an actual healthy relationship is supposed to be like she cant really grasp that her relationship with nils Isnt that and isnt ever going to be. she can only cling to this one happy idea of the future, and thats why she keeps chasing him, self fulfilling the actuality of her situation and creating and fostering the unhappy life they will inevitably live together.
and that bleeds into everything else in her life, of course, because as the years go on, as the visions grow in number it just makes sense for her to fall into the predictability of her life. she always knows whats going to happen, her visions are Never wrong- so why try to change things? shes had time to process tragedies days, weeks, months, years before they happen, shes had time to settle into every crack of her life. her parents divorce, her various break ups, her future with the psychonauts.
“and she's already seen so much of a future with [nils] she feels trapped almost. Like she has to be happy in it or else it just means her life is miserable. And it's a mixture of pride and fear of the unknown that keeps her clinging to the One thing she knows. BUT LIKE!!! She knows what's gonna happen! It's easier to grieve when she's been grieving for years... She wants so badly to be happy, But to do that she has to step into the unfamiliar. And that's more terrifying than staying the same miserable person she's always been.”
and thats where franke comes in— and yeah you Do have to take a lot of liberties for frankes character since it’s basically, like, all the info for her is just that shes a Supreme Baby Dyke but thats enough for me. i think she has protective butch itch in her . on campster shes defensive over other women evidenced in the way she keeps watch over the girls cabins for lili when elton is pursuing her . but shes also eager to please and constantly trying to make kitty laugh and also Very naive. but she tries! and i think it only solidifies more as she gets Older and really gets a hold of her feelings & her powers. this is incredibly franke to me
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and i think as they grow older together— because i think franke and elka Do stay friends, both because elka is just pathetic and needs that positive connection even if she doesnt realize it and because i think franke is a very Loyal person & annoyingly persistent if you let her be . and i am also a kitty/franke truther. because kittys also important in this web we weave
because i think franke and kitty stay together after camp, to a point— theres a falling out facilitated on kittys end and they break up, but reconnect, and franke kind of... saves kitty from herself a little, from her strict military father whos love only extends thru finances , from her own stifling future , she drives all the way to bakersville in her shitty van handmedowned from her dad and they move in together eventually . they get jobs at the motherlobe , because it’s a pipeline to a decent job, because it’s whats easy, because franke doesn’t really have a future, because she’s never really been good at much, because shes never had much sense, because franke doesnt really care as long as she can live and help, sometimes, if she can, and because kitty’s there, and because elka’s there, and shes so used to being elkas eyes now and shes good at it. shes good at being the muscle of the missions when her colleagues lack it, when hypnosis and predictions arent enough. she likes it that way.
and elka appreciates frankes company. she listens, shes sweet, she does little things for her that no ones ever really put the effort for before; she likes her. franke is strong and bold and makes her laugh and shes always there but god elka cant let go of that future, of that box shes put herself in, that her mothers put her in, of being a Good Wife to a Loving Husband, of getting married normally and falling into unfailing familiarity. thats all shes ever wanted and shes not going to jeopardize that . not for franke, who may not be a boy but is handsome like one, whos always held her after every break up with nils and the men that filled empty days inbetween.
and elka is too stubborn to recognize those feelings anyway. too prideful to accept a way out. too set in her cycle no matter how much she hates it, her little self fulfilling tragedy of her own making, wallowing in her own doom. she struggles for control of her own life when she feels like every choice has been made for her anyway, she puts up her walls and carefully constructs what people see. but franke was always harder to trick, because while empathy isnt a particularly useful psychic power it’s certainly an inconvenient one. all franke has to do is get too close and all those carefully crafted walls fall apart, and elkas control is gone, and thats all she really has. and she tries to distance herself, really she does, but franke is also too persistent. and elka wears gloves, keeps contact that would make her walls crumble from happening as best as she can, but she cant really keep herself from the brief moments where she feels like someone actually fucking cares about her.
and that slightest lack of control, the need to wrestle it back is why she proposes to nils the next time theres a falling out— she knows how it happens, she plans every detail. and he accepts, despite everything. gets her a cheap ring and it feels like lead on her finger and its nothing at all like how shed thought it to be when she was a kid, theres no feather light feeling in her chest, only that dreadful reality that she cant turn this back. BUT WHAT CAN U DO LMAO
elka doesnt tell franke about this engagement until later, on their way back from a mission. late at night when neither of them can sleep, and franke invites elka to smoke in her van, because its been so long since theyve been alone like that, because elkas been so strangely absent lately. and because of everything, because frankes always so damn nice, because elka hates the feel of the ring on her finger, because she let herself get high alone with franke fucking athens whos always been so good at pulling her apart— the truth of it all spills out and its messy and emotional and she hates it, she hates the life shes made for herself, but franke makes it easier to bare and now shes here and shes so close and god she wishes she could see her smile again, she wishes she could see franke, thats all she needs right now and she cant but she can touch her and she can hold her and for tonight, she can be known, she can let those walls crumble, she can be something else just for once here with franke . she can kiss her here in this van, touch that happiness for just a moment, and forget the future that waits for her outside of it. franke begs her to forget the wedding, to just let herself be happy— and god, she wants to, but it means turning her back on everything shes known and everything shes saw to be inevitable, and franke has never been in her future, so if it were supposed to work out why hadnt she seen it and she cant, she cant take that risk but she can have this, even if its temporary, she can have it.
and just as soon as she gets a taste of it, its gone. after that night, after the missions over and theyre back at the motherlobe and have to pretend like nothing happened (franke doesnt, of course she tells kitty about it, she tells kitty about everything.) but that brief moment together haunts elka every time she sees franke, sees herself through frankes eyes, sees herself in her wedding dress because god its all franke can think about! of course it is! she knows how much elkas destroying herself she knows how much misery shes wallowing in that kiss in the van felt like an emotional punch to the teeth and she hasnt ever forgotten it and all she can do is sit and watch while elka throws herself into a loveless marriage. she can come to her wedding and see the way the bride and groom kiss with the emotional weight of a wet towel no matter how hard elka tries to hide it under a pretty dress and bouquets of flowers and meticulous planning.
and elka resents nils but she cant really hate him, its not his fault, not really. he feels trapped just like she does and his feelings of misery only cycle back into hers . they fight and gnash and wear away at each other and its a relationship thats crashed and burned a million times before elka even said i do. and its inevitable that she falls into her mothers habits, a sip of wine here and there to loosen up, until it turns to a glass, until it falls into a bottle on nights when whatever work nils does runs late.
but franke’s still there. shes always been there, hasn’t she? always trying to play knight, always trying to save her, dragging her home when shes stumbling over herself because god who else is going to do it but her? who else is left to care? certainly not nils. never nils. because franke knows her. because franke pities her. shes always pitied her. shes always known. and elka hates it, she resents it, but god in the same breath she’s desperate for it, she envies it to her very bones. elka is a mess but after frankes done with her she has someone to go back to that loves her. and god what elka wouldnt do to have that. to take it and keep it for herself because shes never ever got to have that movie romance shes always wanted.
so now comes this.
because elkas particularly miserable and particularly spiteful and she needs to get franke to understand, just for a moment, drink with her and get on her level and she needs her there with her no matter how her pity makes her feel. no matter how much it makes her shake with anger and envy and desperation, but god the way franke looks at her, the way she still tries to salvage what they have, the soft, slurred way she tells her that it’s okay but its not okay, none of this is okay, it never has been and she just wants franke to shut up and see that, and if she cant then she’ll show her, she’ll show her all the raw angry desperation, with too much teeth and hands that claw and grab and she’ll know why everyones always said she’s too much.
and she knows this puts her on nils’ level too. that this makes her a cheater, that shes no better than he is now. no better than her father and his affair. but god, she wants to be selfish. she wants to be in control. just for once. she wants to feel right and she wants to feel happy and she wants to feel loved. thats all shes ever wanted. and franke will let her have that, just for a little while, at the very least.
anyway. sorry. sorry for being crazy . this isnt even getting into the shit after the comic takes place . elkas stupid brainworld thag she has to overcome in order to finally be allowed in the polycule and live happily ever as worlds first lesbian divorceman
sorry for all the shit i make up instead of caring about actual characters with screentime . bye !
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bbsantc · 10 months
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my favorite bts fics so far (hyung!line)
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hello lovely readers, i hope all of you are doing great. i've been wanting to make this post for a while now. i really want to share the amazing work and talent that many authors have on this app. as a literature fan and hopeless romantic myself, i made sure to pick out all the fics that i think are beautiful and amazing :)
disclaimers!!!!:
some of these fics contain nsfw content (minors dni), or some heavy themes, i am yoongi biased so excuse me if the fic ratio compared to the other members is waaayy bigger (like by a lot i am so so sorry), also this post is insanely long heh (once again, i am so so sorry :p), all pictures are from pinterest!
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fluff- ♾️
angst- Ω
smut- ☻
crack/humor- ☼
i would sell my liver to read this again for the first time- ¶
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Kim Seokjin
Turn Back Time- @raplinesmoon ♾️☼Ω☻
''pairing: baseball player!Seokjin x doctor!reader (based on the movie 13 Going On 30) genres/au/rating: fluff, humour, angst, smut, time travel au, 18+ summary: After total humiliation at his middle school baseball try outs, Kim Seokjin wants nothing more than for his awkward years to fade away until he’s thirty. Cue a magic baseball glove, and his wish is finally granted. Seokjin suddenly wakes up seventeen years later, now the star pitcher of the team he’d always dreamed of playing for. Confused and overwhelmed at the prospect of the new life waiting for him, he turns to the only person who seems to understand him — you. Will Seokjin learn what it truly means to be thirty, flirty, and thriving? Or will he find himself wishing he could turn back time?''
Every Year- @another-army-spot ♾️Ω☻
''Pairing: Jin x Reader, some implied Yoongi x reader and Namjoon x reader
Word: 15.6K
Genre: friends-to-lovers!au, richkids!au, chef!Jin, bookworm!oc, hard fluff, smut angst?
Summary:  As the daughter of the Kim’s closest friends, you’ve attended their extravagant annual New Year’s party since the year you were born.  No matter what you always spend time with your favorite childhood friend, Jin, who has always been there for you.  Here are the highlights of you and Jin realizing just how important you two are to each other.''
Let's get married as a joke- @burningupp Ω♾️
''Genre: angst, fluff
Pairing: Kim Seokjin x reader
Wordcount: 8210 (I’m so sorry)
Summary: Your best friend Jin has always had a talent of getting you into trouble. Maybe that’s why you’re not surprised that he asks you to marry him as a joke - or that you agree.''
friends get married all the time- @hobipost♾️
''The silly promise you made ten years ago comes back to bite your asses, and you’re both too weak to pretend it never happened
pairing: seokjin x f. reader
genres/tropes: friends to lovers, fluff
words: 2k+''
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Min Yoongi
series:
The Truth Between Us- @jimlingss @gukyi ♾️Ω ☼ ¶
“⇒ summary: a book deal should be the most exciting time of your life, but there seems to be a constant and omnipresent damper on your mood in the form of a certain min yoongi, who you would just cut out from your life, if he weren’t your editor. but then, the world shifts beneath your feet, and you begin to wonder if maybe you’ve always been looking at life from the wrong angle.
⇒ enemies to lovers au with various other au’s thrown in there
⇒ word count: 14k (first chapter)
⇒ genre: fluff, angst, drama”
Dating advice- @taleasnewastime ♾️Ω☻
''Summary: It’s been months – ok, it’s been years – since you last went on a date. And you’re sick of it. Sick of seeing couples kissing and holding hands in the street. Sick of your friends settling down. Sick of everyone buying houses and having families. You’re going to do something about it. You’re going to snap up a man, you’re going to tie someone down, you’re going to finally commit, you’re going to – you’re going to need a bit of advice.
Pairing: Yoongi x reader
Genre: fluff; angst; smut
Word count: 54k
Status: Complete''
unexpected lovers- @jjkeverlast ♾️Ω☻
''-> pairing artist!yoongi x female reader
-> genre fake dating!au, romantic comedy
-> summary what happens when you meet min yoongi at the club, or well accidentally use him as your pawn to not get hit on. not knowing your cousins friend overhears and suddenly your whole family knows.
-> word count 19.8k''
Only Yesterday- @borathae ♾️☻Ω ¶
'' “Your life in a small countryside village was nothing of the extraordinary, you owned a quaint little teashop, enjoyed warm evenings in your garden and liked taking walks by the river. One day a handsome stranger moves in the abandoned cottage opposite side of the river and it is not long that he becomes a source of comfort in your life.”
Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader
Genre: s2l!AU, Neighbours!AU, Teashop!AU, Slice of Life!AU, Romance, Fluff, Smut
Warnings: This is a very feel good story, meant to comfort the soul and warm the heart. However it contains talks about car accidents and memory loss, as well as sexually explicit scenes. If you are sensitive to such topics I advise you read with care. 
Wordcount: 78.620''
Signed in Black- @yoon-kooks♾️☻
''Pairing: Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Soulmate!AU, BadBoy!AU, FLUFF, Smut [in future chapters]
Summary: Min Yoongi. That was the name magically tattooed to your skin. You were told he was your lover by fate. And as cute as it would be to have a soulmate, Yoongi was the last person you ever wanted to be bound to. But thankfully, there was a way to remove the tattoo. All you had to do was convince six Bulletproof Fairies that the two of you were in love.
Word Count: 3.3k'' (first chapter)
neon signs- @pantoneyoongi ♾️¶
''title ; neon signs [ drabble series ]  pairing ; campus crush!yoongi x campus crush!you 
description ; namjoon doesn’t think it can get any clearer outside of yoongi building a giant neon sign saying i have the absolute biggest crush on you but apparently, book smarts don’t exactly translate when it comes to you and your massive crush on min yoongi.
(alternatively: namjoon and hoseok try for three years straight to get you and yoongi together.)''
Reflection of You- @agustdakasuga ♾️Ω ¶
''Genre: Historical!AU, Timetraveller!AU/ Different Dimension, Romance
Pairing: SUGA x Reader, Yoongi x Reader
Characters: Normal!Reader, Idol!Suga, King!Yoongi, Guard!Seokjin, Guard!Jungkook, RoyalAdvisor!Namjoon, Servant!Jimin, Servant!Hoseok, Prince!Taehyung
Summary: Confirming you were dating the famous Min Suga of BTS, you knew you were bound to make some enemies. But what you didn’t expect was to be cursed, leading you to meet a cold-hearted, arrogant king that shares the same face as your rapper lover. ''
your universe- @muniimyg ♾️☻Ω ☼
''in which min yoongi refuses to lose you
regretting rejecting oc, min yoongi goes through a circus load of gestures and tasks in attempt to be loved again
pairings:
basketball captain // tsundere yoongi + sunshine // preschool edu major oc
au/genre:
friends to lovers 
uni au
one sided pining / rejection / redemption / a sad excuse of a slow burn
smut, crack, angst
social media au + written
warnings:
implied + actual smut
angst (oc is heartbroken and trying to move on from being initially rejected)
name calling, love/hate friendships, big egos, overprotective friends, childish social culture, and a burnt out era &lt;;3 
parts:
ongoing ( ongoing/25 )''
andante cantabile- @kkulfm-2 ♾️☻¶
''pairing: myg x f!reader
genre: historical / regency au, fluff, smut
wc: 30.6k + 3.8k smutty bonus
summary: You are convinced Mr. Min is nothing but a rude and gloomy man after he leaves a horrible first impression on you. His friends' attempts to convince you otherwise are met with mixed success.''
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oneshots:
Man of The Year- @raplinesmoon ♾️¶
''pairing: single dad!Yoongi x gn!reader genre(s): pure fluff, very minor angst au(s): graduation au word count: 2.7k warnings: some swearing, Yoongi is a little nervous, Yoongi is bad at flirting, this is so cute I could cry
rating: PG
summary: For the longest time, it’s always been Yoongi and his daughter, celebrating every milestone of life together. But today, that could change.''
Shut Eye- @alpacaparkaseok ♾️
''pairing/genre: idol!Yoongi x reader, fluff
premise: In a world where every night you meet your soulmate in your dreams only to forget their face and voice when you wake up, you’re now more desperate than ever to find them.
word count: 2.6k''
gold- @aquagustd Ω♾️☻
''↣ you’re in love with Min Yoongi, yes, you are, but why do you keep thinking of the boy who broke your heart into a million pieces when you should be focusing on the one who’s mending it.
pairing: yoongi x reader (past jungkook x reader)
genre: angst, fluff, smut, bff2l
word count: 17K''
stood up. -@parkdatjimin Ω☻♾️
''Three years after dumping your toxic boyfriend, you decide it's finally time to try the dating scene again. What you don't expect is for a handsome and confident CEO to come to your rescue after being stood up.
"Just play along. My name is Yoongi and whoever stood you up is a douche."
Pairings: CEO!yoongi x fem!reader
Genre: HEAVY angst, smut, lil fluff, slice of life, mutual pining, non-idol!au''
First-Date BAIT!- @jimlingss ♾️
''Words: 11.3k
Genre: Fluff
First dates are embarrassing. First dates are awkward. I’ve been through countless ones, sitting across from people who bored the living daylights out of me. It was less exciting than watching paint dry. Some dates were so utterly rude - I think you and I both know what it’s like to be on the receiving end on that. But now we both don’t have to waste our time anymore!
With First Date Bait they went out for me! Afterwards, they informed me if it was recommended to go out on a second date. It’s amazing with a 99.99% accuracy rate! That’s how I ended up meeting my husband!
First Date Bait. Why waste your time with awkward first dates?''
DreamCatcher- @jimlingss ♾️Ω
''Words: 13k (oops)
Genre: Fluff & Angst
Summary: When your dreams are more or less nightmares, monsters inside your head that eat you alive, it seems like the only person who can help you is Min Yoongi, professional dream chaser.''
Purr-haps I like you- @taleasnewastime ♾️
''Summary: You have a no pets policy where you live, but when you find a tiny kitten in a box on the side of the road, what can you do but bring it home with you? The only problem? The landlord who made the no pets rule, also happens to be your flatmate.
Pairing: Yoongi x reader
Genre: pure fluff; Flatmates au
Word count: 11.6k''
Wild Strawberries- @yoonia ♾️☻
''➤ Character / Genre: Min Yoongi x reader/female OC (told through Yoongi’s POV) | Lucid Dream!au, fluff, smut''
first love- @jungnoir Ω♾️
''⇢ summary:  yoongi meets you, seated next to him at a familiar brown piano, and he steals you away hours before your wedding day, seated next to him at a familiar brown piano + yoongi’s been in love with you since childhood and he only has the courage to tell you when you’re about to marry someone else.
⇢ relationship: min yoongi/reader.
⇢ genre: best friend!au, angst, romance. 
⇢ words: 5.6k''
strike a chord- @snackhobi ♾️☻¶
''pairing: yoongi x reader // word count: 15.8k // genre: smut
summary: your idea of a good night certainly doesn't involve being stood up by yet another blind date and finding yourself alone in a fancy bar; fortunately for you, there's an attractive man playing the piano to keep you busy, instead.''
Anyone But The Groom- @yoonjinkooked ♾️Ω☻
''❅ Summary: After a meet-cute that brings all the romcoms to shame, you realize that for once in your life, the stars have finally aligned and presented you a guy that might be able to make you believe in love at first sight. Only to find out that you’re in charge of planning his Christmas Eve Wedding.
❅ Pairing: Yoongi x female reader
❅ AU: Wedding Planner reader x Arranged Marriage groom Yoongi
❅ Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, will-they-won’t-they type of relationship
❅ Word Count: 36.5k (I AM SO SORRY)''
Not Even a Mouse- @softyoongiionly ♾️☻¶
''Summary:  The week before Christmas, you are tasked with delivering some paperwork to your father’s former business partner in order to secure your ownership of their legendary toy store. However, things don’t go as planned and a sudden blizzard keeps you cooped up inside the tiniest town you’ve ever seen, Snow Falls. You keep telling yourself that it’s the weather that’s keeping you here, but after a visit to Min’s Mini Mart, you aren’t so sure anymore…
Pairing: Single Dad! Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Romance, FLUFF, Smut (18+ only please)''
All I Want for Christmas (ft. Yoongi)- @hayjeon ♾️Ω
''→ singledad, CEO!yoongi x secretary!reader→ 13k words''
ceo!yoongi- @jungshookz ♾️☻☼ ¶
''→ pairing: min yoongi x reader 
→ genre: ceo!au, clumsy!y/n because that’s always nice, jimin is ur best friend, floofy fluff, a touch of nsfw aka office sex
→ wordcount: 21k+ so u should probably read this using ur laptop and not ur phone''
first love | myg- @lavienjin ☻Ω
''synopsis: After an incredibly long day, Yoongi found you crying in the copy room. Though he doesn’t talk much, you’ve always found his presence comforting, and it didn’t surprise you when he stayed and listen to you vent. However, while you sought comfort in his embrace, he proposed a special offer to reduce your stress with the magic of his hands. The only catch to your arrangement? You couldn’t fall in love.
But wouldn’t you know it, just as your friendship deepens into something more, you find an old notebook sitting on his bookshelf, and in it, a collection of poems. The last entry has you reeling because it’s addressed to you. And in that page, a single line is written: Without you, I am nothing
pairing: yoongi x reader
wc: 11.3k
genre/rating/au: 18+ | fwb, coworkers, f2l au | smut, angst
warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, semi public sex, multiple smut scenes, multiple orgasms, oral (m. & f. receiving), masturbation, exhibition, lots of feelings. like a lot of feelings :(''
A Boy Like You | Yoongi- @cinnaminsvga ♾️¶
''→ summary: for whenever you are feeling low, always remember that there is a boy you know who would lift the sky for you.
{or alternatively: Min Yoongi loves you, though he never says it. He’s always been a firm believer in that actions speak louder than any words ever could.}
→ genre: coworker!au, f2l, fluff''
when the stars align- @itskimtaehyung ♾️Ω
''Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader
Genre: FakeDating!AU with a hint of roommates (well actually more like apartment-mates but roommates is catchier), College!AU, fluff, angst
Word count: 10.5k
Content/Warnings: Mentions of heavy drinking, drug usage, strong language, but also cute things like adopting a dog together
Summary: With cuffing season approaching its end, you thought you had escaped the pressures of finding a boyfriend for the holidays. That is, until your friends set you up on a blind date that goes horribly wrong. This prompts you to enlist the help of your roommate, Yoongi, to fake a relationship so your friends will stop meddling in your love life. And it turns out Yoongi is a lot better at this romance thing than you originally thought…''
p.o.v | myg- @jtrbluv ♾️Ω
''summary: you were eight when you first met your soulmate. then you were eighteen when you realized that the boy who just got hired at the local record store next door, is also your soulmate. the issue at hand: you are the only one that knows.
pairing: yoongi x reader (fem)
genre: fluff, angst, soulmate!au, redstringoffate!au, college!au, high school!au
word count: 17.9k''
Yoongi is a Rock- @yoongsisbae ♾️Ω ¶
''rock!Yoongi x reader :D fluff a bit of angst a lot of silliness
Word Count 1.3k''
android!yoongi- @jungshookz♾️Ω☻☼ ¶
''→ pairing: min yoongi x reader
→ genre: android!au becauSe for some reason android aus are popping up everywhere, the usual heaping serving of fluff and comedy, N S F W like reALLY nsfw i poPPED OFF this time i don’t know even know what happened,,, forgive me god for i have sinned, a n g s t, i definitely teared up a little writing this because i was listening to kim bum soo’s i miss you and it made me 100x more emo
→ trigger warnings: this does get a little intense! beware!! 
→ wordcount: 24k like that bruno mars song''
you’re so concerned about the ending that you don’t even know the plot- @joonsgalaxy ♾️☼
''° yoongi x reader x taehyung
° 1.9 k words ° fluff/humour
🌟 you bring your broken laptop to Tae—the IT specialist—who you have a crush on. you drag your bff Yoongi along with you, who—you’re certain—has a crush on Tae too. what a mess, right? well, the thing is, you never even considered the possibility of your assumptions being totally wrong.''
better place- @cupofteaguk ♾️
''summary: you might be in love with childhood best friend Min Yoongi, and he might be in love with you—and everyone seems to know it. except for the two of you.
pairing: yoongi x fem!reader
genre: hogwarts au, friends to lovers au | fluff
warnings: slow burn, alcohol consumption, truly lowkey an idiots to lovers au word count: 14k''
something to hold on to- @fantasybangtan ♾️Ω ¶
''❦ word count. 17.7k ❦ genre. parent fic, fluff, angst, a bit of boob action ❦ warnings. illness, mention of hospitalisation, mention of minor character death, yoongi is kind of a dick sometimes, accidental(?) flashing ❦ summary. it’s not that you don’t like your job. on the contrary, reading bedtime stories to a certified little princess is something you still can’t believe you get paid to do. it’s just that between all the school runs, snow days and secret second hot chocolates before bed, you may fallen a little too hard for those dimpled cheeks and gummy smiles…. worse still, you’ve fallen for her father too.''
the proposal- @dreamescapeswriting ♾️Ω☻
''WORD COUNT: 35K (No its not missing a decimal point)
PAIRING: CEO!Yoongi x Assistant!Reader
GENRE: Smut, enemies to lovers, CEO x Assistant, fake marriage, angst, movie inspired, slow burn''
basketballcaptain!yoongi- @jungshookz ♾️☻☼ ¶
''→ pairing: min yoongi x reader
→ genre: basketball captain x water girl, cheesy cheesy stuff, the FLUFFIEST fluff, jungoo is an idiot, humour, nSFW = smut, cocky yoongi, spoiler alert yoongi does a body shot off of u it just be like that sometimes
→ wordcount: 18.4k this will definitely make the app crash as per usual don’t come for me''
Hug-o-gram- @cinnaminsvga ♾️☼ ¶
''→ summary: 
“This is probably the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” Yoongi hisses, but it’s kind of hard for Seokjin to take him seriously when he’s wearing a cardboard sign around his neck that says ‘Huggie Wuggie Machine!’ in bubble font. 
“Like, even worse than when we DIY’d your car into a convertible by sawing the top off?” Seokjin asks, genuinely curious. 
“Worse,” Yoongi admits, trying his best to stay out of your line of sight. His cheeks redden, matching the gaudy pink kitten ears he was forced into wearing.
{or alternatively: Seokjin is a terrible wingman. He also runs a profitable business by sending hugs to people’s crushes for a fee. Mix them together and you have a recipe for Min Yoongi’s worst nightmare.}
→ genre: college!au, hugging booth!au,fluff, humor → warnings: yoongi is so smitten that he’s a walking disaster, so much shy!yoongi to the point where you’ll want to scream, seokjin just tryna get his homie some y/n love coochie bro ;o; → words: 13.3K''
I Wanna Hold Your Hand- @minisugakoobies ♾️
''Pairing: Yoongi x Reader (Gender Neutral)
Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, fluff, Roommates!AU
Rating: T
Warnings: pining, a lil’ smooching, Yoongi is very persuasive, reader is easily duped, it’s as fluffy as freshly fallen snow
Word Count: 1.4K
Disclaimers: None, other than obviously I don’t own BTS - they simply inspire me
Summary: It’s hand-holding season, according to your roommate.''
subtle- @joonary ♾️Ω
''↳ summary: just another memory added to the long list of drunk memories that you’ll forget but wish you’d remember, while yoongi will remember but wish he could forget. 
↳ genre: fluff; light angst; friends (?) to lovers (?); min yoongi x reader
↳ rating: pg-13
↳ warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, and yoongi’s soft spots being exposed to the light of day. yknow, just another joonary fic.
↳ word count: 3.5k''
Hobi's Girl- @jjungkookislife Ω☻
''↬ pairing: f. reader x Hoseok, f. reader x Yoongi
↬ genre: smut [18+], angst
↬ summary: Yoongi had a wonderful night with you… but you’re Hobi’s girl.
↬ wc: 4.8k''
The King Isn’t Dead- @another-army-spot ♾️Ω☻
''Pairing: Yoongi x oc (fem)
Rating:  M
Word: 19.7k~ (my finger slipped?)
Genre:  historical fic, smut, romance, fluff, angst, political upheaval shit
Summary:  After the invasion and the King’s miraculous survival, the nation aims to secure stability and his position of power through the prospect of marriage and continuing the Min line.  As a promise to your brother on the battlefield, the King promises to consider you as his potential wife - to love and to protect.  Or maybe it’ll be the other way around?''
the landlord- @ppersonna ☻
''↳ summary- your air conditioner breaks right at the height of a recordbreaking heat wave.  good thing your hot landlord, yoongi, knows how to attend to any needs you may have.
↳ rating- explicit / 18+
↳ word count- 4.3k
↳ pairing- yoongi x reader
↳ genre- smut, light crack, PWP''
CYBERSEX- @gimmethatagustd ♾️☻☼
''The whole point of being a phone sex hotline operator is that you’ll never have to meet your clients. So what are you supposed to do when you find out your favorite client is your brother’s best friend? 
» pairing: yoongi x fem!reader 
» wc/date: 14.6k | July 2022
» genre: BTS | 18+ | brother’s best friend | smut | fluff | humor
» warnings: alcohol | blowjob | car sex | creampie | dirty talk | fingering | masturbation | pet names | phone sex | pussy slapping | sex work | unprotected vaginal sex''
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Jung Hoseok
hot rod- @kinktae ♾️☻
''a 1950′s inspired fic where greaser Hoseok can’t keep his eyes, or hands, off the new waitress at his and his boys’ favorite diner.
pairing: greaser!hoseok x reader
word count: 10k
genre: 1950s au, smut, fluff''
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Kim Namjoon
The Bodyguard- @rmnamjoons ♾️☻Ω
''➳ summary: You’re the daughter of the ambassador to a small, peaceful, barely-on-the-map country in Western Europe, working as a diplomat to help your mother with her endless meetings and politics. After a kidnapping attempt gone wrong, you and your protective bodyguard Namjoon are on the run across Europe, jumping from trains, stealing cars, and pretending to be a couple on your honeymoon to stay hidden. As the would-be kidnappers close in, Namjoon promises you that he’s going to keep you safe, no matter the cost.
➳ pairing: bodyguard!Namjoon x reader
➳ genre: bodyguard au, romance, smut, fake dating/fake marriage, road trip (kinda), very slight angst
➳ word count: 62.9k – this is a complete, VERY long oneshot''
Show Me How- @imaginationofacrazyfangirl ☻ ¶
''Summary:You swiped right on a nerd, instead you got a Greek God. Or tired of your virginity, you decide to throw caution to the wind and find a hook up on tinder.
— PAIRING: Namjoon x f!reader
— GENRE: smut. 18+ minors dni.''
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I'll continue in a pt.2
(tumblr doesn't let me write more lmao)
969 notes · View notes
jadeysjasmine · 2 months
Text
Neglected - Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Reader
A/N: This is a repost, I have decided to return to tumblr after deleting my account a few weeks ago lol. will be posting my old work gradually as to not spam. Also lost all of my requests so please send more :) 2547 words
Tags: angst
Summary: your relationship had been great until it wasn’t, you were becoming less and less a part of the relationship to the point where they were missing major events.
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Joining Barcelona at the start of last season had always been a dream but also a bit of an adjustment, moving from cold and rainy Scotland to warm and sunny Spain was a very welcomed bonus. Your teammates had been phenomenal and welcomed you with open arms, showing you around Barcelona and even teaching you Spanish well trying to.
What you hadn't expected was to catch the eye of a certain couple, from day one Maria and Ingrid were infatuated with you but when you made quick friends with most of your teammates, you barely spoke with the couple, you had tried on a few occasions to speak to them but their replies were always short and it felt like the were trying to end the conversation as soon as possible, which hurt because you too had been drawn to the Spaniard and Norwegian.
While you thought they hated you, that was far from the truth, you made them nervous - so nervous that every time they spoke to you they were unable to form any words.
It all came to a head 4 months of you being at Barca, when you were in a hotel for an away game, you, Maria and Ingrid were in the elevator when it suddenly stopped, while Maria used the emergency button to try and get the lift unstuck, Ingrid noticed you looking sitting in the corner with your knees tucked up to your chest and trying to control your breathing, you hated small spaces and being stuck in an elevator was a living nightmare. She comforted you, eventually Maria joined you all spoke about anything and everything.
From then on you three were inseparable, always spending time together outside training, whether that be getting coffee, having movie nights or even going for dinner, you all also carpooled to and from training together. This went on for months and you found yourself falling more and more in love with the duo, the constant touching, cuddling and friendly kisses on the cheek were driving you insane. You were on the couch of their apartment, in the middle of them, head tucked into Ingrid's chest with Maria pressed to your back and all your legs in a tangle of limbs, watching your favourite movie.
You were only half paying attention, trying to steady your beating heart at being so close to them, you felt Ingrid guide your head out of her chest using your chin as she brought your lips to meet her own, you sighed kissing back, allowing yourself to enjoy the kiss before reality hit and the only thing you could think of was Maria, you abruptly pulled away, eyes wide and darting between Maria and Ingrid panicked, an amused and worried smile on both of their faces and Maria cupped your cheeks and bringing you into a much less sweet kiss than the one you shared with Ingrid. That night was filled with sweet kisses and confessions of love, your second favourite night, only beaten by the night the finally asked you to be their girlfriend.
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That brings you to now, a few weeks away from celebrating your 1 year anniversary, the past year had been the best year of your life, spending it with your two favourite girls. The only downside is the secrecy, of course it hurt but with Maria and Ingrid so set on not exposing your relationship, not to teammate, not to friends and family, not to anyone, there isn't much you can do.
It was difficult at times but not being much of a fan of PDA it was easy, still spending loads of time with your girls outside of training but that all flipped when the locker room chat switch to talk about your friendship, many teasing comments about how much time you all spend together and a empty comment from Patri.
"You spend so much time together, its like you're part of their relationship Y/N/N." she and the rest of the locker room giggle, you could see Ingrid and Maria tense but giggle along as to not draw attention to them, you also played along, playfully rolling your eyes but you also tensed, hoping no one noticed.
The drive home with Maria and Ingrid was filled with an awkward silence, you sat in the back, Maria drove and Ingrid was next to her in the passenger seat. You had tried to initiate conversation on a few occasions but only getting vague answers and sometimes no answer at all, just a hum of acknowledgment, not pushing it any further when you noticed the growing frustration on both of your girlfriends faces.
Your thoughts spiralling as to what you could have done to upset your girlfriends, having completely forgot about the conversation in the locker room as In your eyes it was significant. Pulling up outside your apartment complex you were confused, usually spending all of your time over at their apartment.
Before you could even question anything, like she could read your mind, Ingrid spoke. "Maria and I thought we could have a date night, just like the two of us. We haven't had one in a while and thought it'd be nice"
Hurt flashed across your face, only for a second as you plastered a fake smile as to not seem clingy.
"Yeah, no problem. Are we still on for breakfast before training tomorrow?" you questioned.
"We were just going to do it at home and then head to training early, Maria has an appointment with the physio" she said, not even looking you in the eye.
Maria had parked the car outside your apartment building and was now mindlessly scrolling on her phone, you noticed her jaw clenched but didn't bring it up.
"Ok, well see you tomorrow, Bye." you nodded, trying to mask the hurt in your voice, no reply from either of your girlfriends was a sign so you grabbed your training bag and exited the vehicle, not looking back.
You hadn't made it to the door of your apartment complex when you heard the sound of Maria's car driving off, your eyes stinging as you tried to hold back tears, shaky hands barely able to scan your key card on the door. You headed towards the elevator, mind racing as you clicked your floor. Being in an elevator just again brings your thoughts to Maria and Ingrid, wondering what you could have possibly done to have upset them.
Finally hearing the door ding, signalling the arrival to your floor, you dragged your feet to your apartment, shoulders slumped as your mood has worsened. Kicking your door open, dumping your jacket, bag and shoes to the side, closing your door with more force than necessary and barely making it to the couch before you began sobbing, head in your hands and the only sounds in the apartment were sobs and gasps for air.
You woke up on the couch, you must have passed out from exhaustion from how long you were crying for, you picked your phone up from the floor to realise it had died, the clock on the wall reading 8:34pm, a whole 6 hours since you arrived back to your apartment. Thoughts cut off by the loud grumble of your stomach, deciding that you should actually eat something you, very grumpily, first went down the hall to your bedroom to put your phone on charge, before making your way to the kitchen to make dinner. As you spend most of your time at Maria and Ingrid's apartment you don't have much food in so you settled on tuna pasta.
Now finished eating you dispose of you dishes in the sick, deciding its tomorrows problem, and trudging to your room, deciding that you should shower you go into your ensuite, strip off your training gear and step into the steaming shower, hoping the very hot borderline boiling water will at least let you feel something, anything.
You were not wrapped up in bed, wearing a pair of Maria's sweatpants and one of Ingrid's hoodie, hoping that whatever that was bothering them earlier has faded and they reached out to you, but nothing other than radio silence, you sighed and started scrolling on Instagram when you noticed both Maria and Ingrid had posted stories, cautiously clicking, it was a selfie of the out to dinner and at further examination it was at your favourite restaurant, fresh tears pricked your eyes as clicked off, giving it one last chance texting them good night and asking if they wanted to get lunch tomorrow after training tomorrow, as expected, no reply.
Placing your phone on your bedside table and laying down, wiping the tears from your face, which was pointless as new ones just replaced them, you, for the second time today, cried yourself to sleep.
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Waking up to your alarm, angrily turning it off as your head pounded. Checking your phone, hoping that they replied to your text but nothing. Huffing as you got up, walking towards your bathroom, you started brushing your teeth when you finally looked into the mirror for the first time, you looked awful as your eyes were red and swollen, cheeks stained with dried tears and your hair was a mess.
Splashing cold water on your face you got ready for training, deciding to skip breakfast you head off to training, the drive there is quiet, opting to have the radio off.
Arriving at the training ground, you try be as invisible as possible, straight into the changing room, small smile of acknowledgement to anyone who greeted you, you were changed in record time and went straight to the training pitch.
Training was awful, missing easy passes, missing shots and being the reason your team lost scrimmage. Jonathan kept you after training and tore into you, telling you to get your act together and that you're benched for the next game. You just nodded and apologised, focusing more on not crying and embarrassing yourself more.
Shoulders sagging and head down, you entered the changing room hoping to leave as quickly as possible, missing the worried glances sent by your teammates as you stripped your training gear off and changed into fresh clothes, deciding to shower at home, you shoved your stuff into your bag and sped walked to your car.
You had just put your training bag into your boot and were getting into your car when you heard your name being called, you looked up and saw Irene and Alexia making their way to you.
"Hola Hermosa, are you ok? you don't look too good." Alexia spoke, tone as soft as her eyes, making you want to breakdown and confess how you're feeling but you couldn't because that would mean telling them about you, Maria and Ingrid and that would upset them, Even more that what they seem to be.
Realising you're taking too long to answer you muster up your best fake smile, "yeah I'm fine, just tired." you spoke, Alexia and Irene don't seem to convinced but decided not to push.
Irene was next, pulling you into a hug, which you melted into as she spoke, just as softly as Alexia had, "Ok Chiqui, we wont push you, but you will let us know if there is anything bothering you, si?"
You nodded, not trusting you voice, they both kissed your forehead and you got into your vehicle and drove home.
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They had eventually approached you the following training session, asking to meet at their place, now sitting on their couch, across from your girlfriends? not daring to make eye contact, your hands more interesting.
The silence was defining, you had assumed they were going to end it so you were preparing for the inevitable heartbreak but when Maria spoke us, you looked at her confused, not expecting her to apologise.
"We are so sorry for ignoring you amor, we just panicked when Patri made that joke but we love you so much and we don't want to lose you"
Ingrid took your viable confusing as a hint to keep going, "Yes elskling, we never meant for you to be hurt and we cannot express how sorry we are, please forgive us" she said with an adorable and unrefusable pout.
A small smile tugged at your lips as your threw yourself at then, wrapping then in a hug and for the first time in days, feeling at peace.
The moment was interrupted by your stomach grumbling loudly, causing both of them to giggle. "Hungry bebita?" Maria teased as you smiled sheepishly.
You all spent the evening eating takeaway and cuddled on the couch, making up for lost time.
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The past few weeks have been better, not quite returned to before but you are back to spending time outside of training together, in training though to not raise any further suspicion you barely interact at training.
Your 1 year anniversary was today and you woke up to sweet messages from your girls, smiling and replying with your own. You had an off day today so you have invited them over for dinner to celebrate, you were going all out and making their favourites.
Its currently 11am so you head to the store to pick up the necessary ingredients, you return home and begin prep.
You are going all out so you decorate the Livingroom with blankets, pillows, fairy light and photo memories of your relationship.
Your finished decorating and almost done preparing the food, you make sure to turn everything down low and run upstairs to get showered and ready.
Once you're showered you put on your make up and curl your hair, you put on a skin tight black dress and heels, you put on the necklace Ingrid got you for your birthday and the rings Maria got you.
You rush downstairs, you set up the gifts you got them on the Livingroom table. You got them some cat related things, you got Ingrid a necklace with matching earing and you got Maria a few rings and a new tattoo gun with some accessories, you finished it off with a bouquet of their favourite flowers and a handwritten note expressing your feelings, you have never been good communication these verbally so you though to write it down so they can read it.
You look at the clock, 5:55pm, they will be here in five minutes so you go to the kitchen and dish up the plates just it time and light the candles on the table.
6:05pm
You decide to shoot them a text, no answer.
6:20pm
You're a bit frustrated now considering they haven't answered, you decide not to try and call them but they went to answer phone.
7:00pm
You cover the food, deciding to reheat when they arrive, another few calls unanswered so again you send a few texts.
8:00pm
Radio silence, you're heartbroken and already you can feel your eyes sting and your lip trembling as tears fall down.
Even through no one else is here, embarrassed for being stood up you blow out the candles that haven't already given up, put the food away in the fridge and turn off all the lights you had set up.
You go to your bathroom, wipe off your smeared make up, change out of the uncomfortable dress and just like a few weeks ago, you cry yourself to sleep heartbroken by the two people in your life you hope wouldn't treat you like this.
Now laying in bed, there's only one questions on your mine; Why dont they love me?
285 notes · View notes
six-eyed-samurai · 4 days
Text
XOXO, YOUR BIGGEST FAN
As per the results for my vote, here it is! But I never said it wasn't going to be angst~~~
Please leave a comment! It'll gimme motivation to score well in my exams swear UwU
I saw you and I just knew, one day you'd be my man. XOXO, your biggest fan.
Ryomen Sukuna was once known for his suave talent on the screen, for the thefts of more than hundreds of drama fans’ hearts everywhere, for his signature shark grin and trademark tattoos.
Ryomen Sukuna was once known for his lead role in the fantasy series Malevolent Shrine, directed by his half brother Kamo Choso, together with the uprising star Gojo Satoru.
Ryomen Sukuna was once known for the tragedy that ruined his life forever and kidnapped him within its dark, depressive grasp to never let him go and completely vanish from the public eye.
I'd kill for you, over and over, I will and could and can. XOXO, your biggest fan.
Ryomen Sukuna’s name was once known to cause crazed stampedes at any store, restaurant or mall he blessed with his presence, but now when he walked hunched and slumped into his stained sweatshirt barely anybody batted an eye at the man who was more dead than alive now.
Ryomen Sukuna's figure was formerly spotted immediately everywhere he went, especially with YOU, his dearest darling angel at his side, a magnet attracting eager, frenzied paparazzi and die hard fans. He couldn't have been more proud to show you in all your glory off to the crowd, to lay claim on you and just prove his undying love for you in front of everyone…once upon a time.
Ryomen Sukuna's expression of easy, lazy smirking from his acting days officially disappeared to be replaced by a face with an emptiness that rivaled the void and had completely forgotten any other emotion long before everyone saw the photo at his final interview on a subject he had no wish to talk about: you and your death.
I know she's hurting us, but don't worry, I've got a plan. XOXO, your biggest fan.
Ryomen Sukuna whose answer to the Jujutsu Tech Weekly’s question of what he regretted most was turning down directors Jogo and Hanami’s offer to collaborate in a movie together, but really? He regretted ever convincing you to stop hiding your secret marriage and step into the limelight with him.
Ryomen Sukuna who can boast about his natural acting talent, charisma and success with all the proof in the world to back it up, but he would never say he was one for observance, not after he missed all the signs of an obsessive, insane stalker tailing after him and his precious, pretty wife.
Ryomen Sukuna who wonders what would've happened if he had just BOTHERED to reply and open the thousands of fan letters he used to get - would he have seen the letters his so-called number one fan had sent him, seen the signs of a despairing delusional madness that drove her to start hunting them both down from the shadows? Would he have paid more attention to the way doors seemed to always be unlocked when the both of you headed home, the missing personal items, the defaced pictures online of his wife?
As they all like to say, into the fire from out of the pan. XOXO, your biggest fan.
Ryomen Sukuna's temper his frequent viewers, family and friends were more than familiar with that made itself known when he publicly threatened whoever was breaking and entering into your shared home with something more physical than lawsuits; but how was he to know she'd take it the wrong way and somehow convince herself that his wife was putting him up to it, to make his one and only out to be the villain of this imaginary love scenario between her and him, to declare herself his “saviour”?
Ryomen Sukuna's decision to move to a new, more private and secure manor by the coast was supposed to protect you from the strange unknown figure lurking outside the house and everywhere you went. Supposed to. Somehow they found out his new home address anyway, and the only one who knew it was Choso, who swore up and down he told nobody and nobody could have possibly known.
Ryomen Sukuna's management (namely, his irritated manager Kenjaku) who finally succumbed to his harsh insults and furious demands and investigated who's been following them around lately: the truth shocked everyone to the core (could it possibly EVEN be the truth?!) when Fushiguro Tsumiki was arrested.
She might bear your son but you and I will start a clan. XOXO, your biggest fan.
Ryomen Sukuna ignored all the warning signs, the final letter with the ominous words of “I'll be the one to teach you love” and the Fushiguro’s protests of her innocence in favour of announcing the big news to the press and celebrating the new beginning in his and yours romance story, this time with a new addition to the family.
Ryomen Sukuna rarely slept before, preferring to stay up late memorising lines and terrorising the crew, but now was just operating on caffeine and quick naps in his worry during your pregnancy. Did he cry when baby Yuuji was born? Yes, and in his delight - although he pretended otherwise - he never noticed that one guest at every one of his conventions with an agitated expression and a hysterical, hateful grudge against you.
Ryomen Sukuna thought the business with his crazy fan stopped when he had his loyal Uraume taking care of his family on the rare occasions you didn't insist on coming to watch him work and hired a secretary to go through and filter all his letters, or maybe he was just preoccupied with watching Yuuji grow up and showering you with all the love his rough, rugged self could give…because he certainly didn't notice the new “security cameras” being set up at his house.
What a fatal mistake.
We'll be alone eventually, a couple and no longer a ban. XOXO, your biggest fan.
Ryomen Sukuna who staggered back and nearly killed the messenger when he heard the news, who raged internally against whatever cruel god had decided to deal him this fate: you and Yuuji had somehow disappeared when driving back from the park and even though police searched high and low you both were nowhere to be found.
Ryomen Sukuna whose world shattered when the two most important people in the world to him were declared dead. Despite Choso’s frantic persuausion and attempted comforts he vowed to never return to the world of stardom, not after his celebrity status got you both killed. He disappeared into the sea of ordinary lives, all signs of vibrancy and life gone right down to his iconic pink hair; he dyed that black, black as his heart and as black as the sky the day his darling went away, the day the letter arrived.
Ryomen Sukuna who imagined the police might make your deaths more real and not so nightmarish when they found your body, but never this way - what sort of sick bitch would send him a parcel containing the severed fingers of you ans Yuuji with a heart signed “Always your girl, Yorozu.”
I'm yours, you're mine, your wife's gone, just say she ran. XOXO, your biggest fan.
Ryomen Sukuna who now wanders the world, alive but alone, so ready to once love what he had had. A fate crueler than him has revealed itself, for they never did catch whoever had done the deed. The last time anyone had ever seen Sukuna at all was at the trial where Tsumiki was released.
Ryomen Sukuna who's played his fair share in horror movie of twisted endings and gruesome grief, but nobody ever told him real life was inspiration for the dark content. Everybody's long forgotten him as he slid into the role of background cameos but he never forgot how even with his fame and money he could never save you and Yuuji, much less avenge you both.
Ryomen Sukuna's half assed attempts at suicide never seemed to work out and he's nothing more than an angry shell of his former glory now. He even tore down both your photos in a fit of rage once; the man in the mirror wasn't him, surely?
They hunted in my basement but never searched my van. XOXO, your biggest fan.
Ryomen Sukuna who is now known for his infamous brutal homicide of one Fujiwara Yorozu with his bare, bloody hands who approached him at a shady bar and whispered she had done away with the devil, won't he ascend to Heaven with her now?
“FXXK YOU, I'D RATHER FALL TO HELL WITH HER THAN BE DRAGGED TO ‘HEAVEN’ BY THE LIKES OF YOU!”
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zegrasdrysdale · 4 months
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[ impossible ] t. seguin
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day eleven of malia’s christmas fic marathon
paring : Tyler Seguin x fem!reader
summary : (Y/N) is surprised when ex boyfriend Tyler knocks on the door of her parents’ house on Christmas Day
warning(s) : angsty, but nothing besides that
author’s note : last two fics of the christmas marathon. let’s do this
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She has never been happier to be home in Toronto. (Y/N) loves living in Dallas, but the last few weeks haven’t been the best. Being surrounded by family should help her out of the post-breakup funk she’s been in recently.
Even now as she's sitting in the living room with her family in her Christmas pajamas and opening their gifts, she misses Tyler. She misses her old life with Tyler, but she couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't keep doing the distance.
He was away more often than he was home. When he was home, he went out with his teammates after games or on off days. She'd often go weeks without seeing him because he'd stay over at a teammate's house.
She wasn't equal with hockey anymore. Not like she used to be. She got tired of it.
She never gave him an ultimatum because she could never make him choose between her and hockey. (Y/N) made her feelings known and Tyler didn't seem to care, so she has been living with her best friend in Dallas and came home for Christmas a week ago. She stopped answering Tyler's texts and calls so she hasn't even talked to him in nearly two months.
Her family doesn't notice that something's wrong. (Y/N) does her best to keep a smile on her face and interacts with her nieces and nephews as they open their gifts. No one has asked where Tyler is and she is very much grateful for that.
As (Y/N) opens a gift from her mom, there's a knock on the door. Her mom goes to answer it as she opens the box that contains a Dallas Stars customized jersey that has her last name above the 91. "Tyler!" her mother shouts from the front door. "It's so nice of you to join us. We didn't think you'd be joining us."
Her head snaps toward the door so quickly that she thought for a split second that she gave herself whiplash. She's very surprised to see her ex standing at the front door of her parents' house in Toronto.
"I needed to go see my parents before coming over," Tyler says as he looks right at (Y/N). "Sorry I'm late. I forgot how insane Toronto traffic can be."
Words cannot express how angry and annoyed she is that he is at the door. She thought that he would've gotten the message that she was done when she didn't talk to him for two months.
Apparently not because there he stands in a Stars hoodie and plaid pajama pants with a bag full of gifts at the front door.
She gets up off the floor and pushes Tyler out the door without a word to anyone. It closes behind her, leaving the two of them alone in the cold Toronto air. Snow is on the ground and she's outside in a tank top, fuzzy pajama pants, and slippers. (Y/N) can't even feel the cold because of the fact that she is fuming.
"You have no right showing up," she spits at him. "We haven't spoken in two months and you show up at my parents' house."
Tyler blinks and says, "Last time I checked, you're the one that stopped talking to me. I don't remember being told that I wasn't allowed to come to Christmas because you stopped answering my texts and calls."
"We're done, Tyler," she tells him. "In case that wasn't clear."
"You're done," he retorts. "I'm not. I don't understand why you just up and left."
"I told you why!" (Y/N) practically shouts. "You're gone for weeks at a time, Tyler. The only time I get to see you is when we're separated by a thick piece of glass while I'm sitting in the stands and you're on the ice. You used to spend off days with me, you used to come home to me and we'd watch a movie on the couch or in bed. Then you decided to go out after every game or go out on off days."
He runs a hand through his hair and says, "I am a leader, (Y/N). I was never around my team. I needed to show them that I am still a leader and I couldn't do that when I was cooped up at home with you. You knew what you were getting into when we started dating and all of a sudden, you can't handle it anymore?"
Anger courses through her veins. Her blood is boiling to the point where the snow might melt around her. "No," she retorts. "I can't do it anymore. You used to make time for me and now you're a ghost. I was living in a shell of our past life together while you seemed to be moving on. I was alone in that apartment. It was like I didn't have a boyfriend anymore. I didn't think it would be that big of a deal if I left."
A look of hurt flashes on Tyler's face. "Of course it would be a big deal if you left," he softly says. "I love you. I miss you."
She shakes her head and does everything she can to keep the tears from spilling over to her cheeks. "You didn't listen," she tells him. "I told you how I felt and you still went out that night after the game. I made the decision to leave because I knew that if you went out after I told you how I felt, you'd keep going out. I couldn't do it anymore."
Tyler frowns and says, "I went out to tell the guys that I wasn't going to be going out as much with them after games and on off days. That is the only reason I went out. I was gone for thirty minutes. When I came back to the apartment and you were gone, I realized that I didn't tell you that I'd be right back."
"I- you-" she cuts herself off when she realizes that if she had just stayed around for an hour, he would've been back. "Why didn't you just text that to me?"
"I thought that you'd be back," he admits. His eyes fall to the ground. "I didn't think you'd ignore me for two months. I didn't think it would take you a half hour to pack a bag and leave. I should've told you that I'd be right back."
A tear slips down Tyler's cheek. Her own tears begin to fall when she sees Tyler's tears. "Tyler, I'm so sor-"
"It's not your fault," he interrupts her. "Don't you dare apologize. We wouldn't even be in this situation if I had just realized how lonely you were or if I had just told you that I would be right back. I'm sorry. I know I probably shouldn't have come up here to try and fix things but I couldn't let you spend Christmas thinking you did something wrong when you didn't."
She takes a few steps forward and wraps her arms around his torso. Tyler's free arm wraps around her shoulders as she buries her face in his chest.
They've both done a lot wrong the past few months, but all they can do now is acknowledge what they've done wrong and move past it.
Hopefully Tyler's season can recover too because despite not being together, (Y/N) did keep an eye on his stats. He really began to fall apart a week after she left the apartment and has never been able to get it together.
That's all on her.
"Sorry your season has gone to shit," she sniffles as she looks up at him. "You can blame that on me."
Tyler shakes his head and cups her jaw with his free hand. "I'll never blame how good or bad a season is going on you," he tells her. "That will never be on you.'
A gust of wind blows and she shivers. Tyler wraps his arm back around her shoulders and holds her close to him. "I'll blame myself enough for both of us," she says. "Can we go inside?"
"As long as you're not done," Tyler replies. "I came up here to fight for us and I won't go inside unless you tell me that we can go back to how things were, minus my going out all the time."
(Y/N) looks up at him and nods. "I'm not done," she practically whispers. "Even when I said I was done, I don't think I actually was. You're impossible to move on from, Tyler Seguin."
He smiles and leans down to press a soft kiss to her lips. He hums and pulls back. "God, (Y/N)," he says. "Your lips are so cold. Let's go."
She lets out a light laugh and walks into the house with Tyler in tow.
Everyone looks at the two of them as Tyler pulls off his hoodie and pulls it over (Y/N)'s head since they were outside for fifteen minutes talking in freezing temperatures. "Everything okay?" her mom asks. "You guys were outside for a while. I thought I heard yelling."
"Everything's okay," she assures everyone in the living room. She goes back to sitting on the ground and Tyler sits next to her. He takes her hands in his so they warm up. She leans into him and rests her head on his shoulder. "We're okay."
That was more for Tyler than anything. He kisses the top of her head before he starts to hand out the gifts that he brought with him for (Y/N)'s parents and siblings. She watches them open their presents with a smile on her face.
Then Tyler holds a little present in front of (Y/N). She slowly takes it and looks up at him. "What is this?" she asks.
"Now that would ruin the surprise," Tyler teases. "Open it and find out. I know technically we weren't together when I bought this but I knew I wanted to buy it for you."
She unwraps it and opens the little black box. There's a silver ring that sits inside with a 91 in little diamonds on it. Her jaw drops and she looks up at her boyfriend. "You really went all out even though we weren't together," she gasps.
Tyler grabs it out of the box and takes her right hand. He slides the ring on the ring finger. "Wanted to make sure that everyone knows who your boyfriend was when we got back together," he replies. She admires the ring on her finger and Tyler kisses the ring.
(Y/N) smiles and leans against him to watch the last few presents get opened.
It finally feels like Christmas now that Tyler is here. It didn't feel like it until he got here because they have spent the last three Christmases together.
Despite being angry that he showed up, she's very happy he's here now.
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bedsyandco · 22 days
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— 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐮𝐤𝐞
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a = affection; is anyone more overly affectionate than the others? when it comes to physical vs verbal, who prefers what?
both violet and luke are very affectionate with one another. they’ve known each other so long and they’re very comfortable in each other’s space. and because of that comfortability it’s very rare that you will see one without the other nearby. usually when they are apart, it’s not by choice. I could see luke being the one who is more verbally affectionate (he’s a yapper😌) he just always knows what to say and he’s very good at showing his love for violet through words. anyone can realise how much luke loves her just by the way he talks about her. as for vi, it’s not that she isn’t verbally affectionate with luke (trust she loves telling her boy how much he means to her) but she’s definitely more of a physical affection type of person. (so is lukey, but between the two of them he’s the one who’s more verbally affectionate yk) ANYWAY point is, lots of affection going around in this relationship !!
b = bed; what’s the sleeping situation like? are there regular sleeping arrangements?
luke and violet have a few different sleeping arrangements. a common one they like is luke laying on top of her with his head resting on her chest (you know luke loves getting head and back scratches🤭) something that hasn’t been discussed a lot is violet’s love for luke’s chest. she’s obsessed. so laying her head against his chest (right over his heart🥺) with his arms wrapped around her is always a comfortable position for her. I think they’ll honestly sleep in any position as long as they’re pressed together. like no space. luke likes his girl close.
c = comfort; when someone’s feeling down, how does the other one look after them?
luke just wants to be held. he just wants to be close to vi whenever he’s feeling down or something’s wrong. she knows him well enough to know when he wants to talk about it and when he doesn’t so she always just holds him close and gently runs her fingers through his curls. luke will eventually discuss it but violet knows not to push before he’s ready. when violet needs comfort, she needs to talk. she needs reassurance that she’s not insane and her feelings are valid. and luke always listens so intently, running his hands soothingly up and down her arm or her back. and luke is very rational too, so she loves hearing his advice and perspective on whatever is bothering her. she knows luke 100% has her best interest at heart so she trusts what he says.
d = dates; what do dates look like? who usually plans them, or is it a team effort?
violet and luke have a good mix of going out dates and staying in dates but I think both of them much prefer staying in. ordering a pizza and watching a movie on the couch. Luke and violet are both big movie buffs and they both really enjoy watching movies together! I could totally see them having like a “Luke and Vi move tier list” and they rate it and everything. when they do go out I don’t think there’s one person who plans the date each time. They’re more of a we decide together, team effort kind of vibe. However I can see Luke taking vi out on a surprise date every now and then that he plans and puts a lot of thought into.
e = events; who drags everyone else to their family/friends’ events?
both luke and vi are very family oriented so to say they go to a lot of family events and gatherings together would be an understatement. Violet is really close with the hughes family, even all luke’s cousins. Like his whole extended family knows and adores her and she always accompanies him to every birthday, dinner, wedding, etc. even when her and luke were just friends, she’d always be the one going with him. and everyone would beg luke to bring vi because they just love her so much. and even when luke can’t go to some things like let’s say his little cousin is having a birthday party and ofc he can’t be there because he’s playing, violet will still go, take a present, spend some time with the family. and luke is just as close with her family, like we’ve talked about how close he is with violet’s brother, daxton. I mean luke and dax text almost as much, if not more, than vi and dax and they have a really good relationship. dax always comes to luke for advice. luke’s the one that influenced him to play hockey. luke is dax’s brother no matter what happens between vi and lu. and of course violet’s parents absolutely adore luke. her dad’s been calling him his son in law since he first met him, so they have a really close bond too. as for friends, vi and luke have the same friends. all luke’s friends are vi’s friends and vice versa. they’re that cute annoying couple in the friend group that always show up to friend events together.
f = fights; are arguments something that happen often? what are they over, and how are they resolved?
violet and luke don’t argue often. I think a lof of their arguments (the like two that they’ve had since they’ve started dating😭) is about the long distance. luke hates it. HATES IT. and he’s pretty upset that violet doesn’t wanna move to jersey until she’s graduated but he also understands why she doesn’t want to. he just gets these moments where he misses her so so much and he gets a little annoyed that she isn’t there with him and he’d make a comment or two about it and they’ll have a little argument but luke always comes to his senses and tells violet he supports her 100% and he knows how much she loves umich and how much she wants to graduate there and he’s her biggest supporter. I could totally see them having little petty arguments sometimes tho. maybe vi is a little sleep deprived and talked to him a little rudely and they’ll have a little moment but both of them always apologize quickly and work it out!! they hate fighting!! I will say I think fighting was a lot more common before they got together. especially in the vi and noah era.
g = getting together; how did it all come about? were there any pre-existing relationships between them?
this is kinda well known already. but luke and violet have been best friends since highschool. they’ve always had more of a flirty situation going on (iykyk) everyone has been waiting years for them to get together!!
h = hobbies; does anyone share any hobbies/passions? how do they include their partner in them?
luke’s hobbies are hockey, watching movies and building lego’s or little models of things. violets obviously been watching luke play for years now (she’s his #1 fan). and they love building little things together. i’ve said before that violet loves buying them as presents for luke but they build them together and he’s not allowed to even glance at it when she’s at mich and he’s in jersey without her. violet likes thrifting and I can totally see her dragging luke with her to the thrift store. he doesn’t particularly love it (or any shopping for that matter) but he does enjoy spending time with her so he does it happily. can also see violet being a little bit of a gamer 🤭
i = in sickness and in health - when someone falls ill, who’s the carer and who’s the germaphobe? is there anyone that resists being looked after?
both of them turn into little babies when they’re sick. luke gets all pouty and cuddly and won’t let violet do anything but cuddle with him. and violet is a little koala when she’s sick and she clings to luke so much. she’d pretend to put up a bit of a fight when he tries to take care of her bc she doesn’t wanna get him sick but vi hates getting sick, and luke’s cuddles make everything better so she’s definitely a little needy when she’s ill.
j = joker; who’s got the best sense of humour? do they like to tease and banter with everyone else?
they do love to tease each other. and I would say both of them are relatively funny, but they are EXTREMELY sarcastic. they can go back and forth with sarcastic quips for hours. and bless someone (it’s almost always dylan😔) when they decided to team up against you. luke and vi love to laugh and no one quite gets their humour like each other.
k = knowing; who can read their partners like a book? is there anyone who’s got their walls up, even around their partner?
violet can read luke really easily. every little expression, action, way he words things. she knows exactly what he means and what he’s feeling. he can never hide it from her, she just knows him too well. but violets also the one person he can 100% be himself with and tell and show everything so why would he wanna hide things from her? violet on the other hand can hide things from luke (not that she does) but she could hide it from him until she’s thought about a better way to talk to him ykwim. luke on the other hand… she’ll just see right through him.
l = lavish; is there anyone who really likes to treat their partner?
this isn’t something we’ve discussed a lot but I really do think that Violet loves spending her money on luke and buying him gifts. I would say both luke and vi love spending money on each other but they do it in different ways. luke loves spending money on things they could do together. trips, dates, plane tickets to games, etc. violet just loves buying him gifts. clothes especially but also little building models, sneakers, watches, etc. she loves spoiling her guy.
m = memories - is anyone more on the sentimental side?
again I think both luke and vi are sentimental just in different ways. luke likes to keep physical things from their relationship. the pencil violet loaned him on the day they met, his bracelet she made him that’s falling apart but he can’t get rid of it, violet’s ticket of the first game he invited her to. things like that he likes to keep in a little “violet box” violet on the other hand likes to keep photos and videos. she has hard drives with hundreds and hundreds of photos on it of the two of them over the years and she won’t get rid of any of them.
n = nights; what’s the nighttime routine like when they’re together?
when they’re together lu and vi have a pretty chill night routine. they’ll brush their teeth together, do skin care, luke will help braid violet’s hair (otherwise it gets tangled) then go to bed and talk for a little bit. it could be just a catch up on their day if they didn’t see each other a lot. or maybe it’s about upcoming trips either one of them have. or what they wanna do for their birthdays. what they’re gonna get a friend for their bday. just a range of different things until they both drift off to sleep.
o = open; how open is everyone with one another?
luke and vi are very open with each other. quinn likes to joke that they’re majorly codependent on one another and that he doesn’t know what they’d do if they were ever separated. (and they do find it really hard to be in a long distance relationship bc of this) but luke and vi have really great communication in their relationship. whenever something is going on or something if bothering one of them, they’ll tell the other person and they’ll discuss it. they know everything about each other.
p = pda; what’s pda like with them? is there anyone who loves it, and anyone who’s less fond of it? what actions/words does it manifest as?
luke and vi’s pda is definitely towards the high end of the spectrum. not heavy pda (unless they’re drunk) but they definitely display their affection quite publicly. luke always has a hand on vi. on her hip, waist, leg. and she’s always pressed against him. they also love the occasional kiss (what? your telling luke his girl is right there and he’s not allowed to kiss her?) violet’s hands are also always roaming luke’s body. her arms looped around one of his while they’re walking. her hand in his hair or at the back of his neck when they’re sitting somewhere. they’re definitely affectionate enough in public that you can tell they’re dating.
q = quiet; who prefers to spend their time with their partner out and about, and who likes to spend it at home?
I think both luke and violet prefer to have a night in. they do enjoy the occasional night out. most of the times it will just be a quiet dinner or a movie. or they do really enjoy going out with their friends or the team. but if it’s just the two of them, they prefer to be cuddled up on the couch or in bed.
r = romantic; is anyone a bit of a sap for their partner?
luke. 100%. I don’t think I need to expand on this a lot. he is so so smitten for violet. luke is the softest boy when it comes to his girl. and he’s not afraid to show it either. EVERYBODY knows how much of a sap luke is for vi and they all tease him for it😌
s = sharing; is there anyone who’s particularly territorial of their partners?
between luke and vi I’d say both of them are pretty territorial. violet maybe a little bit more. she’s a bit possessive over her lukey but not in a obsessive toxic way. more in a he’s her favourite person and she wants to spend all day everyday with him. (okay…maybe a tad obsessive but who can blame her??) luke on the other hand is more possessive and territorial when there’s a guy actively trying to get with violet. like they’re flirting with her, then his possessiveness comes out full force.
t = terms of endearment; nicknames! who’s crazy on them, and who do they make cringe? what’re the go-to’s?
luke and violet’s go-to terms of endearment are babe and baby. the overused and boring ones yes, but they make it cute🥰 the nicknames are the usual ones as well; lu, lukey, pretty boy. vi, vivi.
u = urge; who’s the most impulsive? who do they loop into their plans, and who entertains their antics?
I think Violet would be the one who is more impulsive. she’s more likely to do adventurous things and luke will 100% egg her on. violet is also the one person in the world who could get luke to do anything she wanted. like if she asked him to do skydiving with her, he wouldn’t even hesitate to go because that’s what she wants and it will be fun.
v = vacations; how do holidays go? are they big exotic trips, or the occasional staycation?
luke and violet do enjoy the occasional vacation somewhere tropical, or in europe. but I think their favourite thing is always going to one of their lake houses.
w = worthy; how are insecurities handled? is anyone more self-conscious than the others?
don’t know if this will come as a surprise to some people but I think luke would be the one who is more insecure. violet is very confident in herself and in their relationship. and while she does get possessive of luke, that doesn’t stem from a place of insecurity. more just the fact that he’s hers. I think Luke does feel a little insecure sometimes when he sees a guy flirt with vi or even all the close guy friends she has. the funny thing is in high school for example, that feeling didn’t exist. and I think it really stems from violet and noah’s relationship. I don’t think it’s been highlighted enough how much their relationship affected Luke and the way he thinks in his relationship with vi. Luke thinks a lot about what Vi’s life would’ve looked like if she ended up with noah, and if he would’ve been able to offer her more than he could. especially because violet is still at umich, with noah, while luke is in jersey. and while he knows, 100%, violet would never ever cheat on him, it bothers him more than it probably should.
x = xoxo; who checks up on their partners a lot when they’re apart? do they call, or are texts enough to make them feel close?
because violet knows how much luke misses her (and she misses him), she really makes an effort to text him a lot during the day. good morning texts, good night texts, little texts throughout the day. and they call each other every day. face timing if they can.
y = yearn; who misses their partners the easiest (ie, calls them to hear their voices when all they’ve done is run to the grocery store)?
luke. hands down. violet could get up from the bed and go to the kitchen and not even three seconds later luke would be up and following her. he’s a clingy bf but violet absolutely loves it. he just wants to be with her constantly🥺
z = zealous; who was especially eager in their pursuit of the relationship? was anyone more reserved in their want for it?
we’ve talked about this too but both luke and vi were a little hesitant to get together because both of them valued their friendship so much and didn’t wanna mess things up between them. both of them do wish that they put their worries aside and got together sooner though!! <3
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temptaetions · 2 months
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the few things 🌠 b.cc
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a/n: the photo above is from the stray kids' 5-star concept teasers. i do not own the media. this being said, i want to preface that this fic is very personal to me, and i felt that it would help me get over things faster if i wrote it. and it did. all of my fics are very personal, so i beg, please don't take them and claim them as your own. please. enjoy. thank you.
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synopsis: when he knows you so well, you're like putty for him. when he loves you, when you think he hates you, and everything in between, you're putty for him.
genre: tumultuous situationship au | unrequited love | best friends to strangers | fem!reader | angst pairing: bang chan x fem!reader
word count: 2.9k | lowercase intended.
rating: 18+. minors do not fucking interact.
warnings: brief mention of appetite loss. please take care of your bodies, i love you. unrequited love/one-sided love, rejection. a lot of crying, a lot of overthinking and insecurity.
what to listen to: how high - ice spice ; is it a crime - sade ; con él - jenni rivera ; dive - luke combs ; tus desprecios - selena
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being known by him pains you.
he knows you so well. from the way the light makes your eyes glow, to the chipped pedicure on your toes. he knows your ticks, what makes you jump, and which cheek you chew on when you're feeling anxious. he knows the tempo you tap your foot to when you're impatient, and which foot it is that means you're impatient. he knows how easily you swoon, for the smallest things, and how tender your emotions are. especially after fights with your parents.
he knows how to unravel you, to get you to bare your soul to him. he can get you to spill your beans by simply wrapping his arms around you, and letting his presence melt away at your coldness. he knows that just being there is enough for you, that just him existing within your own existence is enough to make you break. 
putting you back together is the hard part. he slowly had to piece everything back together, checking edges and patterns, dents and slices of your problems being scattered everywhere. he was the only one who did it well, the only one who paid attention to detail. the only one who cared enough to even unravel you in the first place.
seeing him do it for somebody else killed you inside.
granted, you and chan had tried to blossom your friendship into a relationship quite a few times. it made sense, you know? he remembered everything about you, and you made efforts no one else had made. you made the effort to soften him up. to show him not everything was set in stone, to show him that he too, could be loved. you watched movies you hated for him, you listened to songs he recommended, and you chose him. over and over, you chose him.
over your friends, over your family. at one point, you almost lost your job over choosing him.
you remember him calling you that day. it was summer. it was raining insanely hard, and he was stuck in traffic. you were worried about him, and stood outside your job waiting to see his car zoom by. your manager tried to pull you in several times, saying you were going to have to go home if you weren't inside in 10 minutes.
chan wound up picking you up, his car shielding you from the rain and his arms protecting you from the wrath of the world. you got sent home, you were soaking wet, and yet, you were so glad to see him. you remember him lightly rubbing your back, softly speaking in your ear that you couldn't jeopardize your job for him. you didn't hear a word, but 'i love you, silly girl.'
and that was the way it always was with chan. so many of your plans were canceled on a whim to talk to him, so many of your friends both envied and disliked him because your attention was always on him. 
"you've tried this relationship so many times. i will always support you, but just know that a girlfriend without the label, and without the same level of commitment is just an obsession, y/n." mina had said to you as she dipped her grilled cheese into her soup, and you sadly remember how quickly your appetite shrank. "chan loves me, mina. he wouldn't lead me on, he's the only thing i'm sure of in this life."
you never regretted being with chan, in any sense. you never felt that sense of dread when knowing plans with him were coming up, and seeing him never made you feel drained. seeing him made you feel like you were on cloud nine. hugging him and breathing him in was an addiction you never want to kick. you loved hearing songs about love and immediately thinking of him, you loved seeing something random he loved and immediately texting him about it.
you loved chan. and he assured you, he loved you.
so why did this feel different?
over the last few weeks, chan had been distant. you hadn't spoken much, and he was routinely in busan instead of seoul. he had no friends in that city, so there was no reason for him to be there, especially now since you guys were trying to jumpstart your relationship again. it seemed he was there almost every weekend, and your texts went unread (or simply, unanswered) for hours.
"hey, baby." his voice was tired, but you watched as the trees zoomed by in the window. he was driving home, from wherever the fuck he was. he only lived a few minutes from the company, so it was unlikely he was coming from work. it was also late, maybe three hours since you'd texted him last. "hey, chan. where are you?" "oh, i'm on my way home. what are you up to?" he answered far too quickly. it was rather avoidant. you scrunch your brows, sitting up on your couch. "home from where? did you work late?"
"what are you, the fbi?" he chuckles, and you hear the ticking of his turn signal. he didn't have to turn if he was going straight home from work, especially not to the left. "i'm just asking. are we still on for tomorrow?" you're picking at your nails, and he sighs.
"actually, no. i have an event at work i can't miss." he sighs, his eyes avoiding his phone. you sucked your teeth, an action not going unnoticed by him. "oh, okay. never mind, then."
you hoped he'd suggest a raincheck. you hoped he'd say, "how about thursday? we can go to dinner." or something along those lines.
"sorry."
bummer, you thought. the effort from chan had begun decreasing. he had originally been the one to ask if you could try and take the leap, one last time. you both knew that your friendship would be dead if one of you got into a relationship – no one wants to come second to their significant other's 'best friend.'
'best friends', that kiss when they're drunk. 'best friends' who have seen every inch of each other's bodies, 'best friends' who have told each other the filthiest things imaginable and have done little to hide that they yearn for the other. 
'best friends' who don't tell their friends when they're kissing each other again. when they're holding each other tightly under covers. when you're letting him tell you how pretty you are, when he's telling you that you're his. when you're letting him snake his hand under your blouse, goosebumps littering your skin.
"i'm home, i'll talk to you later. bye, baby." 
you don't even get a chance to say goodbye before he hangs up, and you feel a pool of guilt in your stomach, paired with the sting of (in your mind, unreasonable) tears. you roll your eyes, your tongue poking your cheek as the tears spill. tossing your phone to the side, you press the heels of your palms into your eyes, trying to take a deep breath.
"it's fine, y/n. he's just busy. he's just busy feeding berry. he's feeding berry, he's probably heating up dinner. he has to eat." you breathe in, a shudder wracking your body as the thoughts begin flooding in.
he's tired of me. he doesn't want to work things out this time. he just wanted to have fun. this is not about love for him.
you curl in on yourself, letting the sobs take over as you let the thoughts flow.
why did he start this again if he didn't actually love me? oh god, what if he has someone else? what if he has someone else entertaining him, holding his attention? what if he's not playing hard to get, i'm just playing hard to get rid of? 
"oh, god." 
you don't understand why you're crying. he hasn't even said anything about not loving you, or not appreciating you. he never said anything about just wanting to have fun, or having another girl waiting for his love.
but subconsciously, you knew a part of him would never tell you. he knew you, he knew how you worked. he knew you'd compare yourself - from creases on your forehead to the stubble on your legs. you knew you'd wonder what they had that you didn't, whether it was sharing his love of marvel movies or simply being a person who can carry conversation better than you could because they could sense something in him you couldn't after years of knowing him.
but if there was anything you were sure of, it was him. you wanted him, all of him, forever. you'd loved him, for many years. and in years past, you'd yearned for him, but never, ever like this. you craved his presence. you craved his attention, his love, his fucking scent, for fuck's sake.
you buried your face in your couch cushion, letting a sob get muffled. oh god. if he's not the one, after all of this? god, remove him. take him away. i can't keep doing this.
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it was two in the morning and you couldn't sleep, the crying session from earlier having lasted far longer than you had anticipated. you even let mina come over and comfort you before she passed out on your couch because she had worked a double shift. you clutched your phone in your hand as your swollen eyes stared at the conversation you'd attempted to have with bang chan.
message to: channie 💘
[9:30pm] can we call? 10 minutes.
message from: channie 💘
[10:11pm] why?
message to: channie 💘
[10:20pm] i just miss your voice.
message from: channie 💘
[10:30pm] i'm really tired.
message to: channie 💘
[10:47pm] tomorrow, then? (read: 11:59pm)
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chan hadn't spoken to you all day. it was well past lunchtime for you, and he usually had a lull at work at this hour. he usually called for a quick check-in, a chat about music, or whatever was on his mind at the moment. you loved seeing him in work mode, or how quickly he straightened his posture if a coworker acknowledged his presence. mina was sitting at your table, awaiting her breakfast-for-lunch grand cuisine.
"any man who can go twenty-four hours without talking to you, is not the man for you. anyone who loves you, would not put themselves in a position to lose you." mina said as you put a plate of eggs under her nose, her hand reaching for the hot sauce. "it hasn't even been twenty-four hours, mina. he'll come around. he always does, he's channie." "you ever consider there might be someone else calling him that? calling him baby? telling people he's the love of their life, and he might actually be?" she says, her eyes looking at you bluntly as you let the steam of your oatmeal hit your face. your eyes were still insanely swollen, and you had called in from your job to recover. you turned on your ringer, hoping you'd hear the bump bump of his text tone.
"i'm just saying, honey. don't put all your eggs in one basket." she licks her thumb of stray hot sauce, and you just sigh, pushing your oatmeal away, your stomach now full of unease.
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it's been twenty-four hours. or, almost twenty-two.
he still hasn't messaged you, called you, or swung by. his instagram story was blank except for the selfie he took in the mirror at work, captioned mondays. 
message to: channie 💘
[9:22pm] hey! we haven't spoken in a bit. where's your head at? lmk, call or text <3
you stare at the text patiently, hoping you'll see read: 9:22pm. you're hoping you'll see the chat bubbles pop up. you're hoping he'll call, or swing by. but he won't, you know he won't.
it pains you to know him.
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you couldn't sleep. you were used to chan holding you close to him. you were used to his calloused hand holding yours tightly, and holding it to your chest like it was your favorite thing in the world. but it was like holding onto something when it's not right. it felt good, it felt almost perfect, but it didn't feel the way it did this time.
things he said swirled in your head as you tucked your arm under your pillow, your shirt crumpling under you. you slept on your stomach, chan was a back sleeper. you remember his judgment of it, saying you would be a deer caught in headlights if someone were to break in. you remember laughing, saying that that was what he was for.
you remember asking him if he'd ever be tired of you, if he ever thought this cycle of trying and giving up would be done. he reassured you, that without a shadow of a doubt, you would never be done. you remember thinking he was the moon that night, and that you'd never want to lose him by counting the stars.
but it seems he was doing just that.
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you'd called out from work again.
it was well past lunch time for you. almost four hours.
and you were glued to your bed, eyes rereading the message he sent.
message from: channie 💘
[2:48pm] hey, y/n. i think…we should just be friends. i don't want to do this anymore. we've tried this time and time again and it doesn't seem to work. maybe it's for the better that it doesn't. i didn't realize i felt this way until i went to busan last week. i feel better now. i hope you understand.
you couldn't stop reading it. your eyes scanned the screen, hoping you'd read it wrong. hoping somewhere, there was a subliminal message. hoping this feeling of feeling used would leave, this feeling of feeling stupid. you knew things that started fast, and it would end faster. you ignored all the warning signs. you ignored all your friends.
you wanted so desperately for this to work.
you wanted so desperately for him to love you back.
but you would never beg. no, you'd never beg for a man to love you.
staring at the message through blurry eyes, you held it down, your finger pressing the thumbs up reaction.
message to: bang chan
[6:30pm] you liked 'hey, y/n. i think…we should just be friends. i don't want to do this anymore. we've tried this time and time again and it doesn't seem to work. maybe it's for the better that it doesn't. i didn't realize i felt this way until i went to busan last week. i feel better now. i hope you understand.'
you put your phone down on your nightstand, forcing your back to leave the mattress. you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror – your hair was tangled, and face was swollen. sighing, you rubbed at your eyes harshly, basking in the discomfort of their dryness.
this time, you were done. you were absolutely done.
you were tired. you knew this was a two-person deal, but this time, it felt like you were making ends meet. you were practically praying to make it work, you were reaching further and further for someone who did not want to be touched. you were giving him access to your heart, your body, your mind without any commitment.
it feels selfish, to be done when he's the one who has suffered in the past. it feels incredibly selfish to yearn for him now, when you failed to love him the way he wanted in the past. at least you're self-aware.
and it all rang in your head, once more.
a girlfriend without the label, and without the same level of commitment is just an obsession, y/n.
he's the only thing i'm sure of in this life.
without a shadow of a doubt, you would never be done.
you remember thinking he was the moon that night, and that you'd never want to lose him by counting the stars.
this time, it is him who is losing the moon, counting the stars.
being known by him pains you.
he knew you so well. from the way the light made your eyes glow, to the chipped pedicure on your toes. he knew your ticks, what made you jump, which cheek you chewed on when you would feel anxious. he knew the tempo you tapped your foot to when you were impatient, and which foot it was that meant you were impatient. he knew how easily you swooned, for the smallest things, and how tender your emotions were. especially after fights with your parents.
he knew how to unravel you, to get you to bare your soul to him. he could get you to spill your beans by simply wrapping his arms around you, and letting his presence melt away at your coldness. he knew that just being there was enough for you, that just existing within your own existence was enough to make you break.
putting you back together was the hard part, but it wasn’t his job anymore. he slowly used to piece everything back together, checking edges and patterns, dents and slices of your problems being scattered everywhere. he was the only one who did it well, the only one who paid attention to detail. the only one who cared enough to even unravel you in the first place, even if for his own benefit.
seeing him do it for somebody else killed you inside.
if you had been sure of anything in this life, one of the few things, it was him.
but he did not want you anymore. if he did, to begin with, this time around. and that’s okay. you’ll be fine. you’ll be fine.
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temptaetions © 2023-2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.
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bardicious · 9 months
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Spock's SNW Human-isms (Apparently an Essay)
This has gotta be one of my favorite parts of the episode. Everyone's already talked about Boimler's polite way of telling Chapel her and Spock's relationship is doomed and not worthy of note in the history books. Versus Spock and Kirk's legendary friendship romance T'hy'la status.
I am on the one hand, upset that Spirk will never be fully canon (because paramount is weak and so are it's homophobic fans), but delighted they're not really banking on the easy "Chapel was Spock's true love all along" because that would be fuckin disingenuous as hell, if you've watched ANY TOS episode or movie. Like, absolutely ridiculous. Beyond insane, and I can understand why it worries fans watching SNW. (though I think the reaction to them having any relationship is a bit much and childish).
Anyway, seeing Spock's early life and his fight between his supposed "human side" and "vulcan side" is such a big aspect of his early character. I get the impression that Spock fought hard to be Vulcan while he was growing up there, but held resentment to not being able to show his mother the "human" affection he thought she deserved. He saw her being ridiculed, her loneliness, his own loneliness when he couldn't fit in, and it broke his heart. A war between his emotions and his duties constantly firing. So enough is enough, he leaves Vulcan, because it's not right for him. And joins starfleet.
Starfleet's motto is accepting all kinds of people and understanding them. But lets be real, starfleet accepts Spock's skill, but not his personality or behaviors. He generally gets along with his crewmembers, but they don't really know him. Barring a few exceptions, maybe Captain Pike? But also not really. Captain Pike loves Spock, but my impression is he doesn't always get him. Not like Jim will.
Chapel gives the same vibes. She says she accepts Spock for who he is. But she likes the idea of the human!Spock inside of him. His human side who understood her better. Who, honestly, I think she would have kept if she was less ethical. But she's not. She's a good person, and that's not who Spock is, so it's not what she wants. But it's still this ideal of Spock she's grasping to. Of course, she doesn't want a more human Spock, that's a cruel thing to say, to think even. But ultimately Spock will never given her the behavior and emotional support she's looking for. It's just not there.
My impression of SNW Spock is that, he likes both T'Pring and Chapel, they're his friends, he loves them like a friend would, he protects them like a friend would. But both Chapel and T'Pring personify his human and vulcan ideals. They're the embodiment of what he should want. Not what he actually wants.
And once Chapel breaks his heart (possibly to "save" his amazing future), he will discard his attempts at "human" behavior. Begin to resent it. Hell, get a little racist with it. LMAO (Thinking of his interactions with McCoy - who's so human, or so willing to show his emotions, it irks Spock, because he tried that!)
It will be the crux of his feelings of shame. With Jim. Who's friendship and love is so important to him. But he just can't do it again. Quite possibly, maybe he should never try to love anyone again, because he's tried, and both options were so obviously wrong. How can he possibly fit in with another being?
But he can, because Jim's actually quite a vulcan human in some ways. Duty is the name of Jim's game. The greater good. The way Jim has decided to look at his own life and his family, and decided to take his experiences in a logical capacity rather than the emotional one Sam has taken everything in. Spock and Kirk are compatible, so naturally, that Spock and Kirk never had to try, they just know each other and understand each other. AND damn, everything about SNW just confirms Spirk, but I wish ffs, that they would "canonize" it.
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sturnonfilm · 2 months
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୨୧ ─── AVOIDANT
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             O1  ֢ constellations
📂 𝜗𝜚 MASTERLIST | NEXT CHAPTER    w.c 8OO
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it’s bizarre to think how quickly things change and how fast time moves. one day you’re born without a single memory to be retained, crying like second nature for the things you can’t yet vocally demand. then you reach the ages of firsts; first steps, first day of school, first friends. you develop all the interests that make you… you, and suddenly the world doesn’t seem so vast and foreign anymore. you become a person that is an individual, surrounded by people who play the same game of life that you do. some of these people you love, some you hate– even if hate is a strong word, no person is exempt from feeling these strong emotions.
chris was no exception. he had his many fair shares of passionate sentiments. there were many things that brought chris a sense of pure joy, for example. like the memories of his nineteenth birthday in palm springs, surrounded by his brothers and closest friends. till this day, he can’t believe nate flew all the way to california to celebrate with them. even though nothing particularly insane happened, it made his heart swell to rekindle those days spent sitting around and doing fun things with the people he loved most, minus his parents and justin. if it was possible to squeeze his eyes shut and wish them there without the hassle of plane flights and planning, he would have done it without a hint of hesitance.
despite chris having feelings of tender happiness and endearment, he also had those of repugnance. memories and things that spiked the taste of abhor on his tongue. a prominent example of this would be romance and relationships, and it was absolutely no secret that these things made him tense up with even a thought. he couldn’t take it– no, he couldn’t stand it. seeing people get all gushy and physically affectionate with one another was something that made him want to take out his own eyes, or bury himself under a blanket and never see the light again. he couldn’t really tell you why it made him feel the way it did, it just… did.
even romance movies made him feel a sense of discomfort. he didn’t get it- being that vulnerable with someone, sharing all your darkest secrets and your most delicate fears. the dedication of planning out tedious dates and worrying whether or not your partner is happy with you and the things you do, the absolute horror of messing up and making the person who’s meant to be the love of your life upset— it made him feel nauseous. afraid. embracing this concept was a difficult task for chris, this was blatant. so much so that a typical fan could tell you this fleeting fact.
he could never picture himself being put in a sappy scenario like that, and he always told his brothers that if he somehow ended up riding a scooter together with a girl with hearts in his eyes, kill him.
he was perfectly content with his life and where he was. it was a new year and he was looking forward to the unknown opportunities that would come his way. truly, what else could he desire right now? he was moving between both LA and boston, meeting new people while simultaneously balancing his cherished hometown friendships. not only that, but he got to spend time with his family whenever he and his brothers felt the desire to do so, but when they needed their own time away it was comfortably waiting for them in the space of a modernized house, slowly becoming the ghost of a home similar to that of the one in mass.
their youtube channel was steady growing and more milestones were to be hit in the foreseeable future, he got to express his thoughts and be vocal on their podcast while also getting insight on his brothers own opinions and speculations, and he just sold out his recent clothing line drop. although he wouldn’t change a thing, he wasn’t opposed to what the future had in store for him.
he would be twenty-one this year alongside his mirrored blood. even so, he was just a boy with dreams and goals, accomplishments flourishing every passing day. he yearned for many things still, but he knew within time all his wishes would be granted with fervid efforts. he was a star in the sky, admired from afar by many and tied into a constellation with others who have made an impact in his life; matt, nick, madi, nate, laura, his parents, justin, and more names than he could count on his fingers twice over.
but this constellation was ever-changing, destined for growth and new becomings. even within the last year alone, there’s been new stars in the sky for what felt like every other week. still, a new one would mark it’s place in the sea of night, burning bright, painfully hard to displace.
but who didn’t love a sky full of stars anyway.
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[ 💌 ] BLYTHE’S NOTES !
── a slow start to a long story ! sorry that this isn’t the most fulfilling chapter and that we haven’t touched base on you, the reader, just yet - but we will very soon ! i wanted to start steady with some insight as to how i interpret chris and how he feels about where he is in life right now before diving into anything else. hopefully i’ll get to start working on chapter two at the beginning of next week, and i promise it’ll be much longer and more detailed given my schedule will be freed up a bit. enough rambling though, tysm for interest in avoidant if you’re reading this and feel free to send any asks in in regards to the story and or it’s taglist, which is currently open. xx.
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kerubimcrepin · 14 days
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Liveblog - Dofus, livre 1 : Julith [PART 21]
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I've already said how weird this whole situation is from Joris's pov, but imagine dying, being given a new body with a way smaller brain and no speech yet, as well as no object permanence, and having to comprehend while in this condition, that your brother, who spent the last 50–80 years trying to hunt you down and make you into a coat, just saved your son from being blown up, and is now dying.
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But you lack the brain capacity to understand any of that. Or remember any of that history.
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You just know that he's hurt, badly, and that you don't like seeing him in pain.
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Joris knows now, that for an ecaflip demigod, it's not that big of a deal to die. At least not the first time.
So it's really more of a "You sacrificed yourself for me?" question.
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He's paying back his debt. He can't be mean to Joris, when all he's done is be nice to him, he's not that kind of person.
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And when he wakes up again, things will be different, between him and Kerubim. Something new is going to happen.
To quote Dofus Aux Tresors de Kerubim: It will have a different taste. A different feel.
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Kerubim's current lack of object permanence or the idea of death, is both a blessing and a curse, because he has no fucking idea what happened, or where Atcham went. Poor kbitty.
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On one hand, this is inherently traumatic for Joris. He must be tired of watching ecaflip demigods evaporate.
On the other hand, I can't help but feel that this is the moment Joris and Atcham truly begin to love one another. So I can't even feel sad about this moment, like a normal person.
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Chat, this is what I cal coping and perhaps even seething. Joris is inclined to think Bakara is wrong because Bakara fucked up Majorly at this part of the movie. Also because Joris has not slept the entire night. Also because he watched 2 people die. Also Simone is far away. Also what IS Simone to do with a dofus-related issue?
Julith would absolutely have hurt Lilotte. There is absolutely not a single doubt in my mind, that if it got her what she wanted, she would dismember Lilotte as Joris watched.
I don't blame him for making mistakes and fumbling, though. He's like 10.
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If she really isn't that bad... If ALL she wants to do, is to bring Jahash back... If that's what it takes for her to leave Lilotte and Kerubim alone...
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And among all else, if this brings the man she loves back? He doesn't mind, then.
(Puts on a giant, Dofus Aux Tresors de Kerubim themed tinfoil hat)
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Joris is a difficult character to read due to his insane multitudes and affinity for lying to everyone and himself.
Due to his passion for wanting to learn about his birth parents, I think spending time with Julith and Jahash is like a dream to him.
But I can't miss the dimension in this interaction that Julith is a scary dark mage called "the butcher", who already killed his father once and then kidnapped his friend, and they are both standing near her, behind him, and she is holding what is essentially the magical equivalent of a nuclear bomb in her hands.
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And the things he says to her may or may not be affected by like, idk, two or three of these factors? Like there might be a slight possibility that he said "I'm sure she wouldn't have hurt you" and "a real family" specifically to decrease the chances of her killing Kerubim and Lilotte. Not sure where I get this idea from, though.
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This is literally the worst day in Kerubim's life as a father. There is literally no going back. Thank god his little kittybrain is going to forget all about this in roughly 3 minutes.
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inkareds · 7 months
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✧. october horror event ✧. " red ink's 2023 October au event "
requests for characters open // navigation // ko-fi
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Welcome to my first October x Reader event! I debated on doing Kinktober since I was starting to get used to writing smut, but because there's like 0 smut in this blog I decided against it. So here it is! My AU event, part of this is heavily inspired by @valeskafics 's myriad of AU's mostly following HOTD characters.
Most, if not all, of these are going to be AUs and not all are going to be open for requests. The ones that say, "open to order," means the prompt is open for requested characters! Only one character per prompt from my character list so choose wisely.
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1 | Corpse Bride - Wally West Sold out !
3 | The Phantom of The Opera - Aemond Targaryen and Jacaerys Velaryon When your opera company makes its way to King's Landing, you never expect to find the man who taught you how to sing when the two of you were younger Aemond Targaryen and your childhood friend Jacaerys Velaryon. A drama-filled confusion ensues as you have to choose between your kind-hearted friend or the alluring man who knows more than one secret passage within King's Landing's esteemed opera house.
7 | Halloween - Rhaenyra Targaryen (NSFW) Sold out !
13 | Frankenstein (the book) - Jason Todd As a member of the League of Assassins, you never would've thought you'd find yourself watching Talia Al' Ghul resurrect your former childhood best friend before your eyes. You also never would've thought you'd be trying to kickstart his mind with electricity after Jason goes insane from a dip in the pit.
15 | Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde Open for order
17 | Ready or Not - Aegon Targaryen When you married into the wealthy Targaryen family, you knew you were bound to find some weird eccentric traditions all rich families seem to have. What you didn't expect was to take part in a gruesome version of a children's game, showing you to just how much your newly wedded husband loves you.
19 | Dracula (the book) - Dick Grayson Sold out !
25 | Edward Scissorhands - Roy Harper Sold out !
29 | The Addams Family - Bruce Wayne You didn't think Bruce would be open to a couple's costume, especially when that couple's costume is a costume from a movie the media love to find similarities with his family. But you're pleasantly surprised when not only he was up to it, but the entire family.
31 | Black Swan - Helaena Tagaryen Sold out !
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Rules: - For each character requested you can tell me a short description on what you'd like or if there's something you absolutely don't want: for example: "Day 3 Aemond Targaryen but nothing NSFW." - Without it I'll still write your character so don't worry about thinking of a plot! - My normal rules still apply
Comment if you'd like to be part of the taglist!
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