#once again. my phone camera is terrible. i have to take photos with my front facing camera because the other one doesn’t work

[lucydacusgirl]

If I was born as a blackthorn tree

#Hozier #liebesgedichte #embroidery #nfwmb #wasteland baby #i started this one off by embroidering hawthorn flowers before being like wtf that’s not the lyric #so I had to start over #once again. my phone camera is terrible. i have to take photos with my front facing camera because the other one doesn’t work #Spotify

[ozzgin]

Hello!

🌟 here again! I'm here with another request for our lovely bodyguard yandere.

Have you ever seen videos of fans jumping up onto stages with kpop idols? Then get carried away by security behind stage?

I'd love to see how our lovely violent baby girl would react to not being able to react with immediate violence as a reaction given all the eyes and cameras on him. Would he be stone faced just carrying the stage crasher by the collar like a cat? Or would he be dragging him by the legs into hell?

The reactions of fans to the bodyguard would be interesting too, I could see Reader being jealous over people thirsting over bodyguard on Twitter or something lol. Or bodyguard confused on why people would say stuff like "he could snap my back like a twig and I'd say thank you" about him.

Hope you are taking care, and I have my fingers crossed to hear from you eventually

Sincerely

-🌟

Long overdue and I'm terribly sorry about that! I had the ideas for a while now, but I could never find the proper words to assemble everything. ;-;

Yandere! Bodyguard x Idol! Reader (III)

Your bodyguard has gained sudden Internet fame after dealing with a crazed fan on stage. Naturally, he couldn't care less about anyone else, but that doesn't stop you from trying to make him jealous in return. Someone will have to be the sacrificial lamb to his murderous possessiveness.

Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, violence, death, reader and yandere are both psycho

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

The screen of your phone lights up again and you only need a quick glance to know what it is. Another post about last night’s event. About your bodyguard. You sink your nails into the leather chair and look ahead towards the mirror, exchanging a smile with the hairstylist.

“Oh, it looks lovely! You always do such a great job.” You compliment the woman as you tilt your head both ways, admiring the gentle curls. Now get the fuck out already.

“I’m so glad! Is there anything else you’d like me to-”

“No, that’s all. You can go”, you respond curtly.

The stylist collects her products and waves at you, exiting the room. The phone vibrates once more with a new notification, and you promptly throw it against the door. It scatters in large chunks of scrap across the plush carpet.

The whole ordeal happened within seconds. You were performing the final song of the evening when a fan hurled himself over the security barrier and onto the stage. The people standing at the very front began screaming and some took their phones out, scrambling for a good angle to record everything.

“Please, (Y/N), I’m your biggest fan!” the man pleaded, approaching you with shaking hands.

You froze in place, observing his actions with the same indifference of watching a TV ad that goes on for too long. Before the stranger could even reach your proximity, your bodyguard effortlessly and speedily threw him over the shoulder, giving you a reassuring nod and retreating backstage. He had that smile on his face that signaled he was pissed, and your mouth hung open in realization: You wouldn’t be able to witness the massacre.

You knew that expression all too well. That man would never see the light of day again, and under normal circumstances you would be right behind your bodyguard, cheering him on and suggesting ways to further torment of whoever dared to get too close to you.

And yet, your little ritual had been interrupted. You stood there on the stage, baffled, as the other idols gathered around you with worried looks. You poor thing. That must’ve been terrifying. The audience was shouting words of support, encouraging you to continue as if nothing happened. With pursed lips, you tightened your grip around the microphone and reassured everyone of your well-being. The show had to go on, regardless of your bloodlust.

This morning, you woke up to hundreds of posts online about the incident. Or rather, the way your bodyguard dealt with it. You scrolled through photos, videos, and confessions regarding the mysterious stranger who protected you from harm.

“I need a man like that in my life!”, “I know, right? So cool!”, “Imagine how easily he’d pick you up”, “The broad shoulders! I’m in love <3”

You don’t even have time to be properly upset about it. Your schedule for the day is packed with interviews and photoshoots. You glance in the mirror one final time and exit the room. The bodyguard has been waiting for you, resting against the wall with crossed arms.

“I need a new phone”, you tell him in a casual tone.

“What happened to the previous one?” He inquires, somewhat confused by your sudden request.

“Just do it!” You snap at the large man, rushing past him without providing any window for a reaction.

Ideally, you would very much like to tell him that the sudden influx of attention irritates you beyond comprehension. Then he’d reassure you that his indifference towards everyone else has not changed whatsoever, and thus your worries are entirely unfounded; but, if you need an outlet to release all that stress, he can easily find an empty changing room and service you like he always does.

Unfortunately, there is no time for that.

The bodyguard follows your movements with raised eyebrows, perplexed. What could’ve gotten you into such a sour mood? Has someone caused you to be upset? Are you still pouting after the missed playtime? He ponders the possibilities as he searches for an assistant.

The employee is visibly startled upon hearing his deep voice calling her. She turns obediently and nods, flashing her best customer-facing smile.

“Can you get (Y/N) a new phone?” he asks plainly.

“Huh? Sure…Did she specify any preferences? What was her previous model?”

He stares in confusion.

“…Can’t you guess?” she insists.

“I’m not good with these things.” The bodyguard rummages through his pocket and pulls out an old, cracked device to prove his point. “I don’t use phones much.”

Why would he? The only time he needs a phone is when he’s apart from you, which hasn’t happened since the Christmas incident. He previously considered a more modern option, so he could stalk your social media and make sure you don’t have any perverts sliding into your messages. That proved to be unnecessary, as you frequently leave your phone unattended or involve him in the process: most of your photos posted online nowadays are actually curated by his truly.

“Oh, so you don’t know about the recent craze?” The woman chuckles and takes out her own phone, speedily tapping on the screen before presenting it to the man. “See? You’re trending!”

He scans the multitude of messages. Ah, so that’s what it was. His lips curl into a grin. To think he’d witness his spoiled idol struggle with jealousy.

“That will be it for today!” the photographer announces, gesturing with his hands and guiding his helpers with the expensive equipment.

This was it, the last photoshoot. You unscrew the cap from your water bottle and take a healthy sip from it, wiping the sweat off your forehead with your other hand. The only good part about the continuous work was that you couldn’t check more of those annoying posts drooling over your bodyguard. Remembering it is enough to increase your heartbeat. The male model you were paired with for this campaign walks in your direction.

“Say, do you have anything planned after this?” He questions smugly. “You could come back to my place.”

What a ridiculous idea, you think with a grimace. Does this asshat think he’s worthy of your company? After a second of contemplation, you’re flooded with the same disappointment you felt back on the stage, watching your fan being carried away like a mere piece of cardboard over the much larger frame of your bodyguard. You might just consider the stupid offer. Why not? It’s not fair to be the only one plagued by jealousy.

“Sure. I know a better place, though.”

Your eyes narrow in a bright smile and you lead the young man towards your backstage room. As you pass by your bodyguard, you remember to mention in a low voice: “Make sure no one disturbs us.” He doesn’t answer, merely gazes at you with an empty expression.

“Man, that guy is scary as hell”, the model remarks as he throws himself in your vanity seat. “Are you not afraid to be alone with him?”

“Not really, no”, you respond idly. “You, on the other hand…”

“Excuse me?”

Now then. To set the scene, you gingerly climb into the man’s lap and adjust your arms around his neck. What a frail little human in comparison to your bodyguard. You blush in anticipation and begin counting in your head.

“H-hey, what did you mean-”

The young man is interrupted by someone’s abrupt intrusion. Your bodyguard throws you a quick glance before turning to close the door behind him. Alright, he can’t be too excited. He must pretend he’s furious, baffled, out for the hunt. You went all the way out for him. He even checked his watch to make sure you had enough time. He can’t let his enthusiasm betray him.

You jump out of the model’s hold with a gasp.

“It’s not what you think~!” you exclaim with feigned surprise. “He started flirting with me and I…” Your words trail off and you rub your arm nervously.

The bodyguard approaches the other man with monotonous movements and grabs him by the collar.

“Wait, you can’t possibly…he’s a well-known model!”, you protest with a fake cry.

Sweet little darling. Worry not, he won’t disappoint you. He’ll put on the best show for your sake. Anything to soothe your innocent heart.

“Could be the President himself”, your bodyguard confesses with a dash of theatrics, “and I’d still break his fucking neck for touching you.” He pulls out his pocketknife and looks at you. “I’ll deal with you in a moment, Miss.”

Your knees weaken and you have to rest against the vanity table. Among the screams and pleads for mercy coming from the poor butchered model, you can only focus on one thing: the violent fucking you’re about to receive.

Your bodyguard truly knows you best.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere male x reader #yandere bodyguard #yandere imagine #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere fic #yandere male #obsessive love #female reader

[angellayercake]

The (very unsexy) Adventures of Secondo and Snowbell

aka four times Secondo was cockblocked by Snowbell and one time he wasn't 🙃

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @tasty-ribz!!!!!!

I hope you have the best day Ribzy because you deserve it! You are one of my favourite people in the whole world and you are going to accept being spoiled today because you are actually the sweetest and I feel so very lucky to be your friend 💜 I hope you don't mind me repurposing this art because it was what inspired this idea to begin with. So art, Snowbell and Secondo all belong to @tasty-ribz. If you would like to read the origins of Snowbell you can here and she features in Ribz' art here

NSFW | Papa Emeritus II x Reader | 4100 words

warnings: sexting, nudes, fingering, oral sex, pinv sex, orgasm denial(HAHA)

‘I miss you amore mio.’

‘I miss you too Papa.’

He drops his phone onto his chest with a huff. You were visiting your family for the holidays. It was only a week and yet he felt like he had lost an arm. This was not the first time you had spent a few days apart but usually it was him leaving the Abbey the two of you call home. He still missed you then of course but he was usually busy with endless duties and meetings and the time would pass in a blink of an eye until he was once again with you.

But this time, he was the one left at home and he missed you every moment of every day. He missed your kisses over breakfast, catching your smile across the Abbey as you go about your day, your warm body curled in his arms every night. And he was not the only one missing you terribly. At first, little Snowbell had decided it was his fault you had gone. It almost broke his heart the way she would perk up every time someone came to his office only to glare at him balefully when the person who entered was anyone but you. But within a day she seemed to be fearing he would disappear too, refusing to settle anywhere but his lap during the day and fussing about being returned to her cage in his office, until he gave up and brought her back to his rooms. Her tactic seemed to be to stay as close to him as physically possible so he could not leave her even going as far as trying to follow him to the bathroom.

He scratches at her fluffy head where she is curled up next to him on the sofa when his phone vibrates again. The chat with you is still open when he lifts it but as soon as he registers the photo he had just received it slips from his grasp and he has to fight the urge to cover Snowbell’s eyes. Instead he scoots her off the sofa, gently but firmly enough that she thumps with her back foot in annoyance before hopping away to the small bed you had set up for her in his bedroom.

Sure that she was far enough away he gingerly picks up the phone and indulges in the pulse of arousal your message inspires. He is hardening in his sweatpants embarrassingly quickly but he shoves that thought aside as he hurriedly shoves his pants down so he can give you his full attention. The picture is gorgeous, you spread out on a bed in his favourite barely there lingerie looking into the camera with a sultry expression.

‘Amore mio, you make me want to drop everything and run to you,’ he types one handed, not willing to relent his steady stroking. He watches the three dots at the bottom of the screen pulse, his anticipation growing. When your message final comes through he can’t suppress the groan as he takes in your second picture. It is a close up of your face pouting in the way that would have him unable to resist kissing you if you were in front of him.

‘What about you Papa? How much are you missing me?’ You type just underneath. While sending naughty photos is not exactly new to him it is new to your relationship, but he is nothing if not a gentleman. He is not going to leave his lady hanging especially with all the effort she has gone to. He opens the camera up and adjusts himself slightly for the best lighting, he wants you to be able to see exactly how worked up you have him. Maybe it will even encourage you home quicker.

Just as he is about to snap the picture all the air is forced out of him when a heavy weight suddenly lands on his stomach. Gasping for air he blinks at his phone and instead of seeing his erect cock on display he sees the unimpressed face of his rabbit staring back at him. Casting his phone aside he lets go of his dick like it were on fire, quickly pulling up his pants while Snowbell hops up his chest.

‘Well Coniglietto, you have certainly ruined the mood,’ he tells her with a sigh as she nibbles on his nose. His erection has well and truly flagged so when his phone buzzes again he knows he has to show you exactly what happened. Maybe the sight of your unimpressed fluffy child will work even better then a picture of his dick. Quickly, noticing your second message containing only question marks, he sends the photo. Snowbell is covering everything you may have wanted to see but it is more than obvious the activity he had been engaging in before his interruption.

‘I am afraid someone decided they missed you even more,’ he types underneath, hoping you will not be too disappointed but when his phone almost instantly buzzes with a video call request he knows it is fine.

‘Well hello…’ he starts before you cut him off.

‘Show me our baby girl please?’ He grumbles with pretend annoyance but switches the camera, relaxing as he listens to your happy cooing.

●○●○●○●○●

‘Sec…’ He manages to cut you off mid moan, capturing the sounds of your pleasure with a deep kiss so your hiding place would not be discovered. All day you had been on his mind, not that that wasn’t the case every day but today you had been especially distracting. You had risen early and while he had enjoyed sleepily watching you prepare for the day the call of a few hours more sleep had won out over ravishing you against your vanity. But those lustful thoughts had twisted their way into his dreams so when he had finally dragged himself out of bed a few hours later he had found himself burning with need while you were already hard at work. So when he chanced upon you in the corridor later that day, a day which had been filled with his heated imaginings, he couldn’t even wait long enough to take you back to his office. Not when there was a conveniently shadowy alcove just a few feet away.

You put up no fight, giggling sweetly as he manhandled you into the semi secluded space. His urgency must have been written all over his face as you asked no questions accepting his kisses with a pleasured sigh. To his ever present surprise you were as enamoured by him as he so obviously was by you, always able to break through his stoic exterior. You were so precious to him and he was overtaken with the need to show you. He wanted to make you cum on his fingers so with little preamble he sought out your core neglecting even to remove his gloves first. When his fingers don’t meet your warm wet heat he hastily pulled his hand free of your trousers, biting at the finger of his glove to free himself. He almost gets distracted by the traces of your taste against the leather but he spits them onto the floor quickly as soon as he realises he needs his mouth to swallow your beautiful sounds.

He teases at your clit, circling with the tips of his fingers until you are gasping into his mouth before sinking deeper but just as he is about to breach your entrance a terrified shout echoes through the corridor, coming from his office. You jump apart looking at each other in shock for a moment before rushing from your hiding place in time to see a white streak dashing down the corridor and around the corner followed by Terzo. He looks at you, blinking slowly in shock before you both take off running after them. Rounding the corner all he can see is Terzo bent double leaning against the wall.

‘Where is Snowbell? What did you do?’ He points at his brother accusingly. Terzo straightens up struggling to catch his breath and holds his hand up in front of him.

‘She bit me!’ He says indignantly, making Secondo scoff as you take his proffered hand in yours. He watches impatiently as you check his finger, finding the hole in his glove, the usually pristine white faintly dotted with red. The nip is barely visible, the glove taking most of the damage so Secondo can’t bring himself to care, much more concerned about the whereabouts of his rabbit.

‘You probably deserved it you stronzo! What were you doing?’ He has to fight off the urge to shake him when he doesn’t answer straight away.

‘I was waiting for you in your office,’ he begins to explain. ‘And you were taking forever.’ He gestures dramatically, unnecessarily elongating the word. ‘So I thought I would say hello to Snowbell but when I opened the cage she. Bit. ME!’ He waves his injured finger in Secondos face but he just bats it aside.

‘And then you must have scared her with all your shouting!’ He can’t help raising his voice as he gets more and more worried. They need to find her so he begins looking around the immediate area hoping she might just be hiding nearby.

‘Stop both of you,’ you say firmly, managing to keep calm despite the situation. ‘She has got out before, we know where she usually likes to go so let’s split up and check there first.’ He is so grateful for your level headedness. You are right, he knows that but he can’t help the panic starting to claw at him and he can see it in Terzo’s face as well underneath all the bluster. What if something happened to her?

‘Terzo could you check the window seats outside the library please? She likes to lay there in the sun so she may have gone there. I will check the kitchens in case she has gone looking for food. Secondo, you know how much she likes visiting Copia and his rats so you check his office.’ With only a nod you all go your separate ways. Your heart breaks a little sending him off by himself but you know that Copia will help calm him while you look. You hurry towards the kitchens, eyes darting from side to side checking every possible hiding place for a rabbit.

You reach the kitchen quickly with no sign of her but you sense you are on the right track when you find the little door to the kitchen garden open. Thankfully, between yourself and Primo you had made sure the walled vegetable garden had been entirely rabbit proofed so Snowbell would be safe on her usually supervised adventures outside. You search methodically through the raised beds, around the green houses, the dense herb garden and the small orchard but she is nowhere to be found. Your sense of calm is slipping away with every place she is not until you reach the ramshackle shed tucked away in the far corner. Princess’ Palace says the sign nailed to the slightly ajar door and you are almost certain you have found the runaway rabbit.

Princess is Terzo’s half feral cat. He had found her in this very shed almost twenty years ago as a small and very unwell kitten.and carefully nursed her back to health until she had been strong enough and old enough to look after herself. She preferred to roam the grounds avoiding most of the inhabitants of the abbey only tempted inside to lounge in front of the fire in Terzo’s quarters or chase some of the mice that also made the abbey their home. But since Snowbell’s arrival she had also been visiting Secondo’s office striking up an unexpected friendship between them.

You open the door slowly and breathe a sigh of relief when you see them. You pull out your phone trying to make no sudden movements that might disrupt them and take a photo to send to both Secondo and Terzo. Snowbell or the round ball of white fluff cuddled up with Princess you assume is Snowbell begins to shift, sensing your presence so after sending off the message you put your phone away and scoop her into your arms. You offer Princess a quick scratch to the head when she blinks open one bright green eye at you, probably annoyed you are taking away her nice warm napping mate. She stretches her legs before curling back in on herself and resuming her nap.

‘Come on now,’ you whisper against Snowbell’s soft head as you close the door to the shed and make your way back across the garden. ‘Let’s get you back to your Papa before he tries to kill your Uncle.’

●○●○●○●○●

Your mouth! He could never quite believe how good it felt when you took him in your mouth. It was obscene the way your lips stretched around him as you sunk down his length, taking as much of him as you could. He could watch you do this for hours, but not today. Currently you were under his desk, your lunch plans derailed when you realised how stressed he was. He had back to back meetings all day and he still had a mountain of paperwork to sort through but nothing would have stopped him from making time for your standing lunch date. You always brought him something directly from the kitchens when he didn’t have the time to leave his office and today has been no different. At least until you had sunk down to your knees in front of him and offered to help him relax before his busy afternoon.

It was an offer he couldn’t refuse considering the frankly embarrassing amount of times he had fantasised about you in exactly this position. He gently slides his fingers into your hair to support your head when he can’t resist shallowly thrusting into your mouth. You were so perfect for him, taking all of him so well. You gaze up at him with your eyes so full of care that he has to look away before the vision and the sensations overwhelmed him. And that was his big mistake.

He doesn’t focus at first, staring blankly across his office, still stuck on the vision of his lips around his cock but when you pull back to breath and lavish attention on the head he blinks back to the present and instantly locks eyes with Snowbell. The world narrows down for a second as he stares at her, feeling like the worst man in the world for getting a blowjob in front of his rabbit. Then you sink back down his length, taking him all the way to the base and he snaps out of it.

He tips his head back staring up at the ceiling as he tries to rationalise allowing you to continue. You are behind the desk so she can’t possibly see you and she is a rabbit! She has no idea what a blowjob is. And you feel so damn good. He drops his chin to his head allowing himself to look at you again but he still manages to catch sight of Snowbell sitting in her cage as he goes. His erection flags almost instantly despite your best efforts and you pull away looking up at him in concern and he has to bury his face in his hands.

‘Papa?’ Your voice is filled with worry. ‘Secondo what is the matter?’ He has to explain before you think there is actually something seriously wrong but he is suddenly overwhelmed with the absurdity of the situation he has found himself in. A laugh bubbles up in his chest that he doesn’t bother to repress as he tucks himself away and smoothes down his robes before taking your hands in his.

‘Amore, you are perfect as always,’ he starts trying his best to reassure you. ‘But, fool as I am, I looked away from you and found that our Coniglietto was watching.’ You peer over the desk behind you and see that she is in fact still watching and joins him in his mirth. Your soft giggles almost as much of a stress relief for him as your sweet mouth had been.

‘I do have another idea on how to relieve your stress Papa,’ you say as he helps you to your feet. You go to the cage, open it and scoop the inquisitive rabbit into your arms bringing her back with you. Instead of settling back in your seat though you continue around to his side of the desk but he only raises an eyebrow in question. ‘And much more bunny appropriate too.’ You seat yourself sideways in his lap, allowing Snowbell to snuggle between you. With a soft sigh you settle against his chest, stroking gently down Snowbell’s back and as he wraps his arms around you both he thinks you might be onto something.

●○●○●○●○●

At times like these he could easily be convinced the breathing was not actually a necessity. With the sounds of your pleasure ringing in his ears and the taste of you on his tongue who could argue that his need for oxygen was more important. That being said he greedily sucks in air when you ease up, looking down at him as you scratch your nails over his scalp. As soon as he has had his fill though he grips your hips firmly, encouraging you to continue riding his face. Your body jolts when your clit grinds against his nose just the way he knows you like and he moans as he laps at your juices as if it were the only thing that might quench his thirst.

Today wasn’t exactly anything special except for the fact that both of you were completely free. No meetings, no appointments and no obligations. Even Snowbell was spending the day with her Uncle Primo which meant he had you entirely to himself and he intended to make the most of it. He had risen early and made you breakfast in bed to begin your perfect day off right and as you were lying in bed together feeding each other fruits and pastries you had decided that neither of you would be leaving his rooms today. After getting up you had watched some telly, just basking in each other's presence until things had inevitably turned heated.

He can feel your body tensing as you near your peak when a series of loud bangs echo through his quarters causing you both to freeze. You start to pull away, moving to climb off of him but he stills you with his firm grip.

‘Amore, ignore it,’ he says between kissing and sucking at your sensitive inner thighs before you relent, eager for him to finish what he started. Just when you find your rhythm the bangs come again, the noise so jarring in the intimate relaxed atmosphere the two of you had built.

‘It must be important,’ you say reluctantly, pulling away once more but he will not relinquish you.

‘Nothing is more important to me than making you cum,’ he growls into your centre, proving his point with a broad lick from your entrance to your clit which he sucks on obscenely and you couldn’t possibly argue with his determination. At least until you hear even louder, BANG, BANG BANG!

‘Secondo if you do not open this door right NOW, I will be making rabbit stew for my dinner!’ You both scramble up from the sofa as soon as you realise it is Primo at the door, rushing to pull on clothes and make yourselves presentable in between exchanging worried glances. You had never heard him so angry before and you were nervous to find out what could have made him so mad. And what it had to do with Snowbell. You both pause at the door, sharing one last look before you swing it open to reveal a flustered looking primo holding a distinctly purple rabbit.

‘Primo,’ Secondo greets him with confusion taken aback by the scene before him. ‘We were not expecting you so soon,’ he hesitates. ‘And what have you done to Snowbell?’

‘Me?’ If steam could come out of his ears it is possible that would be what was happening right now as he looked at you both indignantly. ‘What have I done? Fratellino, the question you should be asking is what has she done?’ He holds her out to you a clear enough demand and she quickly snuggles into your chest when you take her blinking up at you with sad eyes.

‘She ate all my red cabbages!’ He fumes at his brother. ‘Not one is without a nibble!’

‘Oh Snowbell,’ you scold her gently, tapping her nose before stroking at her stained fur. ‘That’s not very nice.’

‘I will replace your cabbages Primo.’ He would like to point out to his brother that perhaps he shouldn’t have let a rabbit have free reign in his cabbage patch but he doubts the ensuing argument would be worth it but there is certainly one thing he must insist on. ‘But I think you owe Snowbell an apology.’ You look back and forth between the two brothers engaging in some kind of stubborn staring contest.

‘I … well, si.’ He turns to Snowbell and bows down to her level. ‘My apologies Snowbell. I would never put you in a stew coniglietto. But your Papa needs to teach you some manners if you want to come in my garden again,’ and with one last glare at Secondo he turns on his heel and storms away, presumably to salvage what he can from his cabbage patch.

‘I think we better go run someone a bath,’ You say as you both look down at the stained bunny blinking up at you innocently.

●○●○●○●○●

You flop back onto the bed before he has even had the chance to put down your bags and he takes a moment to watch you starfish on the luxurious sheets, his fondness for you warming his chest. In his mind at least, he had been planning this trip since you had agreed to be his. You both had arrived in Italy a few hours before, taking the scenic route to your hotel so he could begin to show you some of the sights. He was as excited to share his home town with you as he was to share everything else.

He was happy, more than he could ever remember being and it was almost entirely down to you, and of course Snowbell. As much as his favourite ball of fluff tests his patience he knows that without her he might have none of this. Following that train of thought makes his heart pang with guilt, having to leave her behind to have this holiday even if he knows she has been left in safe hands. Copia was the only person he had trusted to look after her for any length of time and he had already sent updates reassuring them that she was faring well in their absence. You must sense his train of thought because you gesture for him to lie beside you, shuffling over to make room.

‘Missing her already?’ You ask softly, wrapping your arm around his waist and pulling him closer.

‘It is silly, I know…’ he starts but she shushes him with a finger to his lips.

‘It isn’t silly at all.’ You replace your finger with a chaste kiss. ‘I miss her too. But that doesn’t make me any less happy to be here with you.’ You always say exactly the right thing to make him feel better. He chases your lips then eager to deepen your kisses. Any tiredness from your travels is replaced by the slow simmering heat of desire that he has only known since being with someone who understands him so well.

You undress each other slowly, no need to rush when you both feel like the only two people in the world. He needs to feel his skin against yours, your physical closeness matching how he feels about you right now. You roll on top of him, caging him in with your arms and as he enters you he pulls you impossibly closer until it feels like there isn’t even room for air between you. You rock together perfectly in sync, gasping into each other's mouths even as your kisses turn sloppy. He breaks from you for just a moment.

‘I love you amore,’ he whispers against your lips.

‘I love you too Secondo.’ Your smile was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and he wished he could dedicate forever to making you this happy. He couldn’t guarantee forever, usually he couldn’t even guarantee an uninterrupted ten minutes, but he could have right now.

●○●○●○●○●

Love you Ribzy and a fancy british audio fic version will be recorded for you at some point in the future. I will even practice so I don't laugh through the smut this time 😁

#HAPPY BIRTHDAY RIBZZZZ #papa emeritus ii x reader #secondo x reader #the band ghost fic #my writing

[maybestoryideas]

Out On A Limb - Cater

BZZT-BZZT!

It hasn’t even been a minute since you texted the group, but your phone is already buzzing with activity. You quickly turn it on, expecting to see Ace or Jack’s name and face plastered on the screen. No doubt they’d want to call you and get a better sense of where you are in the forest , even though you don’t have any idea yourself.

Cater Diamond

You blink a few times, just to make sure you’re not misreading the name in front of you. It’s still says Cater. Confused, you answer his call and are greeted by a familiar face smiling back at you on screen.

“Heya, (Name)! How’re ya holding up?”

“I’m… as good as I can be.”

He laughs, “That’s the spirit! We’re searching the woods right now, so it shouldn’t be too long. I figured I may as well check up on you; keep ya company, and all that.”

“‘We’? You’re out here too?”

“Of course! I’d feel terrible if something were to happen to my favorite first-year!”

“Aw, I’m your favorite?”

“Well, that and I’m hoping that I can get a good selfie with you once you’re safe. Someone recorded your flight and put it online, and now you’re trending on Magicam! Pretty great, huh?”

Something tells you that internet fame flies directly in the face of Crowley’s desire to keep your magicless enrollment hidden from the public. But then again, when has Crowley ever been one to uphold standards, least of all his own? 

“So do you have any idea where you are?”

“Nope. All I see are trees and sky.”

“Really?”

“See for yourself…”

You turn the camera around and show him the treeline. There’s a chance, however slim, that Cater would recognize your location. But when you turn it around, his smile just gets a little more sympathetic.

“Wow, you’re really in the middle of nowhere. On the bright side, you’ve got a pretty sweet view from up there. Hey, maybe you can take a few pictures for me? They’d look great on my Magicam!”

“Good to know you’ve got your priorities in order.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughed, “For reals, though, you’re already on the top page; people are already replicating your stunt.”

“Any videos showing the landing process?”

“We need to come up with a name for it.” You sit back and let Cater go on, just listening to him talk and laugh. “Maybe something like, ‘Prefect Spiral’? Nah, too punny. Oh, that reminds me! You’re not still using that old phone case I bought you, right?”

“I am… Why wouldn’t I?”

“Seriously? The newest model came out ages ago. How ‘bout we go into town and get you a new one?”

“No way, man! It’s still in good shape.”

“C’mon, we’ll make a day of it; get some lunch, take some photos, do some window shopping…”

“Nope. I���m keeping it.”

“But I can’t let my favorite first-year go walking around with outdated gear! What kind of example would I be setting for the others?”

“Doesn’t matter. You got this for me as a gift; I’m not going to just trade it out for the latest trend.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then another. He smiles. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but that makes it harder to look away.

“You really don’t care about what other people think, do you?”

“I wouldn’t go that far. After all, Ace is the reason I’m stuck in a tree right now.”

“But even then, you just do whatever you want.” He smirks, “Like flying over a ravine, for example. No regard for others.”

“As long as no one’s getting hurt. I mean, it’s fun to stop and hear what people have to sayt, but - keeping up with what everybody’s thinking and feeling - doesn’t it get a little tiring?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” he shrugs, “And even if I did, you can just turn it off, and everyone will still be there when you get back!”

You refrain from mentioning how you’ve never seen him turn off his phone without being prompted.

“And what about you? I guess you never get bored or lonely when you’re off on your own.”

“I do, sometimes.” you copy his shrug, “But other times I like being with myself in the moment. Besides, there’s a difference between being lonely and being alone; even if there’s no one around, I know I’ve got friends who’ll be there for me when I need them. Grim, Ace, Deuce…”

You grin.

“You?”

His face goes a little pink, but that might just be a trick of the camera.

“I can’t believe you just said that out loud. That was way too sappy, even for you.”

“You say that but here you are, looking for me…”

It’s not a trick of the camera.

“...And if something ever happens to you, I’ll go looking for you.”

The look Cater gives you is one you’ve only seen a handful of times.  A mix between embarrassed, surprised, and - most notable of all - guilty. 

You’re about to make a witty remark when a gold light catches your eye.

“Hm,” you look up from your phone and out through the trees.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it just- Looks like the sun’s starting to set.”

“…Probably looks really nice from up there.”

“It does.”

“Lucky…” he pouts childishly. You have half a mind to whine about how unfairly cute it is. “I wish I was there with you.”

“Up in the tree?”

“Yeah.”

His smile lessens even more. You frown.

“Okay, hang on a sec.”

“What’re you doing?”

“Trying to grant a wish.”

You slowly rise to your feet, keeping one hand anchored to the tree while holding out your phone as far as possible. The hand on the trunk quickly grabs onto the nearest branch as you take a step forward, then another, all while sweeping the camera across the landscape. The trees, the sky, the sun, you move as slowly as possible, letting the camera capture all of it. Hopefully it’s enough to make up for not being able to see it first-hand.

Without the speaker right in front of you, it’s hard to hear what Cater’s saying, but you can faintly hear a quiet, “Wow…”

You smile and turn the phone back to you.

“Happy?”

“Yeah, that’s… Is that what you saw when you went off the tower?”

“Kind of. It was only for a split second, but I got to look down while I was cruising. It’s like, when everything gets so small, the problems get small with them.”

“Huh, you might just have to teach me that trick so I can see it for myself.”

“Maybe I wi-”

CRACK!

The branch beneath you jerks.

“(Name)?!”

You move. Fast.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,”

The base is right in front of you, just a few more steps.

CRAAACK!

The branch is falling.

You reach out and grab onto the snapped end of the tree’s limb. The wood digs into your palms and cracks your nails, but you don’t let go. You can’t let go. Helplessly, you kick your legs through the air in an attempt to find some purchase to kick off from; you don’t have enough strength to pull yourself up.

Just a little more…

You sink your nails deeper, ignoring the stabs of pain that shoot through your fingers, and pull. The jagged end digs into your stomach, but you still can’t do it.

“(NAME)!?”

You hear a voice over the blood rushing through your ears. The same voice you were just talking to. Before you can even say anything, you feel yourself being lifted off of the branch by some invisible force. Instinct tells you to hold on and don’t let go, but you fight back the urge and let yourself slowly float through the air and to the forest floor.

As soon as your feet touch the ground, you collapse onto your knees. Cater’s immediately kneeling beside you.

“Are you okay!? What happened?!” 

“The branch broke…”

You move to stand up, only to have a burning pain radiate from your hands. When you check them, you see bits of wood and dirt embedded into the fleshy meat of your palms. There’s blood already welling from the open cuts and filling the gaps around your fingernails.

“Crap, that looks bad. We need to get you to the infirmary ASAP. Can you stand?”

“Yeah, I think so…”

He gently pulls you to your feet. As you’re still inspecting your injuries, you realize something.

“Um…I think I dropped my phone. Do you see it anywhere?”

The two of you look around before spotting the device lying on the ground a few feet away. He picks it up and you instantly see a noticeable crack in the screen.

“Bad news, I think it’s busted.”

“Great…” you take it, careful not to cut yourself on the cracked glass, “Well, better a broken phone than a broken bone,”

“C’mon, I’ll take you to the infirmary.”

“Thanks…”

You let Cater go ahead, relying on him to lead you out of the woods, only to notice something odd. He’s wearing his PE uniform.

“Cater?”

“Yeah?” he looks back at you with his smile. It’s not as sharp and upbeat as normal, but there’s still something off about it.

“...How many of you are there?”

He blinks. Once, twice, then frowns.

“I think there were at least six of us.”

A heavy feeling settles in the bottom of your stomach.

“Can you lead me back the way you came?”

He shrugs.

“Sure thing.”

Silently you follow behind Cater, all the while tending to your hands as best as possible. Carefully taking out the splinters and debris, and patting the open wounds with the sleeve of your jacket. Thank goodness for black uniforms. You’re so focused on your injuries that you don’t even notice when your guide stops and almost walk right into him.

Looking over his shoulder, you can see Cater, hunched over his phone, frantically tapping the screen and mumbling to himself.

“C’mon, pick up... Pick up. Pick up the stupid phone!”

“Cater?”

Both of them look at you, one with a smile and the others with an expression you’ve never seen before. When you blink, the smiling one is gone, leaving just the two of you.

He’s staring you down and takes slow steps forward. And with every step, you can see more and more. Relieved, sad, scared, guilty; overwhelmed and exhausted.

You give him your softest smile and do your best to hide your hands.

Cater falls on top of you, burying his face into your shoulder and wrapping his arms around you. The feeling in your legs hasn’t completely returned; you stumble back to balance the two of you. One hand’s cradling your head and gently combing through your hair, while the other is gripping your jacket - you can feel the material pull against your arms as he clenches it in his fist.

“Don’t… Ever… Scare me like that again.”

“I’m sorry.”

You slowly bring your arms up to hold him - you’ll help him wash out any blood later. With one hand, you gently draw small circles against his back. He tenses, gripping you tighter before slowly relaxing.

He repeats the motions over and over again. What do you say? How do you comfort him? Do you try to cheer him up or just let him be?

“It's okay. You found me in the end…”

The words only make him hold you closer.

#Twisted Wonderland #Cater Diamond #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #Cater Diamond x Reader #twst x reader #twst Cater

[afairytalestray]

Day 27 of @storyweaverofgondor's cats-pril - background. I found this as a writing prompt incredibly challenging and I definitely went off piste, but I hope it was a fun read anyway! Also on Ao3 here.

..

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Misto laughed as Tugger, once again, called for a break, slumping down on a nearby rock. The forest around them chittered with life, but there definitely wasn’t another Cat for miles.

He did and he didn’t. Hiking was, undoubtedly, dreadful, and Tugger hated it. Walking was fine, but an endless uphill slog was not how he envisioned today going. He wasn’t unfit, not by a long shot, but it had been two hours and they still weren’t there!

“Of course!” he replied stubbornly. He did desperately want to get to the end of this hike. There, according to his research, was a beautiful hidden waterfall, which would make the perfect backdrop for what he had planned. The internet had made out like the path there was an easy stroll, not this Everest climb! But the plan was the plan, and Tugger had meticulously thought out every other detail.

“Do you want me to carry something for you?” Misto joked. He could and would actually do it though, Tugger thought. Being a principal dancer at the ballet meant his boyfriend was in god-like shape. Additionally, he actually enjoyed hiking.

“I’d say my heart, but you already have that,” Tugger said, blowing him a kiss. He received an eye-roll in return.

“You’re a terrible flirt,” Misto groaned, but he was definitely trying not to smile. “Come on.” He took Tugger’s paws and easily pulled him upright again. Tugger kept hold of one of them and swung it as they walked. It was worth it, really, to see Misto enjoy himself so much. He chatted mindlessly as they followed the forest trail further, telling Tugger all about his last rehearsal, the birds they saw in the trees, the cake Tugger baked last week… this, that, and everything, really. Tugger engaged as much as he could whilst trying to hide how much he was panting for breath. Misto only chattered uninhibitedly like this when he was completely comfortable with whoever he was around, and Tugger was insanely proud to tick that box.

Finally, FINALLY, after another 20 minutes that felt like 20 years, they rounded a bend and came face to face with the waterfall. Misto let out a little gasp, dropping Tugger’s paw as he darted over to the little pool beneath to get a closer look. Tugger gave as big a whoop as his strained lungs allowed, and dived into his backpack to pull out the massive camera and tripod he had brought. Misto looked back, and snorted at the sight.

“No wonder you’re exhausted, lugging all that around with you! What’s wrong with a couple of phone shots?”

“Oi! It’s a heck of an achievement I made it up here, I want high-quality evidence of this moment!”

This moment, that would hopefully be so much more than reaching the finish line. Tugger clicked everything into place, making sure the shot would be perfectly lined up, before tapping the record function.

“Sparkles! Take a photo with me!” he called, bounding round in front of the lens. From here, the camera would perfectly capture them, with the pretty waterfall in the background. Tugger may look slightly dishevelled, but Misto looked glorious, and there was nothing a touch of photoshop couldn’t fix!

Misto smiled, and came over to where Tugger now stood. He turned to face the camera, but Tugger manoeuvred him so they were facing each other, camera on the right, waterfall on the left.

“Trust me,” he murmured, seeing Misto’s quizzical look.

“I do, I just didn’t realise you were into photography all of a sudden. Not that that’s surprising, mind you.”

Tugger laughed. True, his interests and hobbies changed like the tides, all except one – the interest-turned-love he had for the Cat before him. The one and only Cat who had ever made him keen to settle down.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured, floating one paw over Misto’s eyes, the other over his own pocket.

“What are you up to?” Misto smiled, but closed his eyes anyway.

Oh, Everlasting, don’t get scared now!

Everything around them faded into the background. Tugger took a deep breath, and got down on one knee. He pulled the engagement collar box out of his pocket, and took Misto’s paw in his own.

“Open?” he said, trying to sound braver than he felt. A pause followed, in which Tugger was too nervous to look up.

“T- Tugger?”

“Marry me?” Tugger asked, gathering the nerve to look up into Misto’s eyes. A wide range of emotions crossed his face, from surprise, to amazement, and eventually to joy as he nodded furiously. He had teared up a bit, which seemed to be stopping him from actually saying anything, but his grip on Tugger’s paw was unbelievably tight. A lump rose in Tugger’s own throat as the weight lifted off his chest. He rose to his paws, grabbed his new fiancé, and lifted and twirled him in a circle, cheering all the while.

“Yes!” Misto managed to gasp, laughing at Tugger’s exuberant display of pure delight. He tugged the box to see the collar closer. “Put it on?”

Tugger did, and felt his own eyes get dangerously watery as he clasped it closed around Misto’s neck.

“How do I look?”

“So beautiful baby, you have no idea.”

Misto laughed, and pulled Tugger into a kiss.

Tugger hated hiking, but this was worth it. The camera should have caught every second of this perfect moment, and he doubted anything would ever sour his mood again! Not even realising he now had another two-and-a-half-hour trek back to civilisation.

#tuggoffelees #cats-pril2023 #cats-prilday27 #the rum tum tugger #mr mistoffelees #cats the musical

[canary0]

May 8 - Dracula 2023

I worried at the beginning of this travelogue that I had rambled too much, but now I’m glad I went into so much detail about everything. This place is deeply unsettling, it and every being inside. I wish I were gone, or I’d never have come; that I’d listened to the front desk people, or had been able to have gone with that bus driver that did his best to keep me from this place.

I know that this sudden change to a nocturnal existence, completely unconnected and away from anything, is wearing on me, but I’d love if that were the only problem. If I could talk to anyone, even just through text, that would be one thing. There isn’t a single living soul to talk to, though – and I include the Count in that. I know I’m going to sound completely insane to anyone who reads this, including myself, if I don’t explain this very directly. Here are the facts:

I didn’t sleep long… maybe three or four hours after dawn when I just couldn’t sleep anymore. I’d set up my phone to shave with, like before, when suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard “Good morning.” The Count’s voice. I jumped; I hadn’t heard him come in at all, and the phone’s camera should have shown him behind me. His hand on my shoulder or coming down to it at least. Even now, as I glanced between him and the phone, there was no sign of him – only me and the room behind me. I had cut myself slightly when I jumped. I finally noticed when I saw the blood starting to flow down my chin as I looked in the screen, trying to find him as my uneasiness grew. I turned around to head to my bag and grab a plaster for it, but when I did… When the Count saw my face, it seemed to fill him with some kid of wild fury, and he grabbed for my throat. I jolted back, and his fingers hit the chain of the crucifix I still wore. All at once, the fury vanished, his expression changing so quickly it was like a film skip in real life, like it was never there.

“Take care. Take care how you cut yourself. It is more dangerous than you think in this country.” His eyes lighted on my phone. “And this is the wretched thing that has done the mischief. It is a foul bauble of man’s vanity. Away with it!”

He threw it out the window. He threw my phone out the window, and it shattered into a million pieces on the stone courtyard below. Then he left without a word. Once he was gone, I rushed over to the window to try and see the damage.

It was shattered, completely salvageable. My texts back and forth with Mina and Lucy and my friends that I read for comfort in this place at times. My photos. My one way of being able to tell where this castle is. All of that completely gone. At least the photos I had transferred to the computer, but that was little comfort.

I went straight past the breakfast laid out – once again, only for myself, as I have yet to see the Count eat or drink – and left my rooms, heading into the great hallway we had traveled when I first arrived and to the stairs. I found a room facing south, with a sweeping view of the region. It was a sea of green trees, interrupted intermittently with chasms and streams winding through gorges in the valley. The castle’s position of a sheer, terrible precipice allowed a panoramic viewpoint.

Perhaps I would have found it beautiful under any other circumstances. Instead, I left, and checked as many other doors as I had access to from the hallway. It seemed like there were a hundred of them – a castle filled with doors, all locked and bolted. The only available exit were the windows.

I am a prisoner, and my prison is a liminal space of stone walls and locked doors.

That realization sent a wild feeling through me that drove me to run up and down the stairs, checking all the doors and windows. The weight of helplessness overcame me soon enough, though. Once it did, I headed back up to my room to sit down quietly – as quietly as I’ve ever done anything in my life – and think about what to do now. I also ate some of the breakfast laid out. Better to think with some energy after everything.

I’m still thinking about it. The only think I know for sure is that I shouldn’t tell the Count my thoughts. He’s the architect of my imprisonment, after all, so he knows perfectly well I’m trapped. Whatever his reasons for doing it, there’s nothing to be be gained by talking to him – he would lie about it, certainly. For now, I’ll keep my thoughts to myself, play the good and naive guests, and keep my eyes and ears open. Either I’m being deceived by my own fears, or I am in dire straits, and will need every resource I have to survive. I’ll also have to make sure the Count doesn’t get rid of anything else important while I’m away. I’m going to start keeping these records on a thumb drive, just in case he decides my laptop is a “a foul bauble of man’s vanity”, too.

I had hardly settled on that when I heard the door below shut, and when he didn’t come immediately to the library, I slipped over to the door of my room, and found him making the bed. When I heard clinking, I spotted him through a gap between the wall and hinges dealing with the food. It’s as I suspected – there’s no housekeeper here or anything like that. No coachman, then, either, which is making everything I’ve seen fall into place in unpleasant ways.

He could control wolves with a wave of his hand. The gifts I got from so many people – the crucifix from the front desk attendant, and the garlic, wild rose, and mountain ash from the people on the bus. The rush of the bus driver, and his effort to get us to Bucovina. Bless him, and the woman who gifted me the crucifix. The latter has been an enormous help in calming my mind during all this. I don’t know if it’s just that it fills me with more memories of kind people, or if it’s something about the thing itself, considering how he reacted to it? I may have to sort that out eventually.

In the mean time, maybe I can do a bit of information gathering tonight. If I can get Count Dracula to talk about himself without making him suspicious, it may end up being useful.

Midnight – The Count did indeed come to talk as usual, and it ended up being a long conversation. I started off with Transylvanian history, and he warmed right up to the subject. In regard to things, people, and battles – especially those – he seemed like he was speaking from personal experience. He followed up with talk about how as a boyar, the pride of his house and name is his pride, their glory is his glory, their fate is his fate, etc. He used the royal we in all of it. Whatever else I may think, it was fascinating. He did become very animate, pulling at his big mustache and picking up or grasping random items as if contemplating whether to crush them in his grip.

There was one thing he said that stood out, and I’ll try to record it here as exactly as I can:

“We Szekelys have a right to be proud, for in our veins flows the blood of many brave races who fought as the lion fights, for lordship. Here, in the whirlpool of European races, the Ugric tribe bore down from Iceland the fighting spirit which Thor and Wodin gave them, which their Berserkers displayed to such fell intent on the seaboards of Europe, ay, and of Asia and Africa too, till the peoples thought that the werewolves themselves had come. Here, too, when they came, they found the Huns, whose warlike fury had swept the earth like a living flame, till the dying peoples held that in their veins ran the blood of those old witches, who, expelled from Scythia had mated with the devils in the desert. Fools, fools! What devil or what witch was ever so great as Attila, whose blood is in these veins?” He held up his arms. “Is it a wonder that we were a conquering race; that we were proud; that when the Magyar, the Lombard, the Avar, the Bulgar, or the Turk poured his thousands on our frontiers, we drove them back? Is it strange that when Arpad and his legions swept through the Hungarian fatherland he found us here when he reached the frontier; that the Honfoglalas was completed there? And when the Hungarian flood swept eastward, the Szekelys were claimed as kindred by the victorious Magyars, and to us for centuries was trusted the guarding of the frontier of Turkey-land; ay, and more than that, endless duty of the frontier guard, for, as the Turks say, ‘water sleeps, and enemy is sleepless.’ Who more gladly than we throughout the Four Nations received the ‘bloody sword,’ or at its warlike call flocked quicker to the standard of the King? When was redeemed that great shame of my nation, the shame of Cassova, when the flags of the Wallach and the Magyar went down beneath the Crescent? Who was it but one of my own race who as Voivode crossed the Danube and beat the Turk on his own ground? This was a Dracula indeed! Woe was it that his own unworthy brother, when he had fallen, sold his people to the Turk and brought the shame of slavery on them! Was it not this Dracula, indeed, who inspired that other of his race who in a later age again and again brought his forces over the great river into Turkey-land; who, when he was beaten back, came again, and again, and again, though he had to come alone from the bloody field where his troops were being slaughtered, since he knew that he alone could ultimately triumph! They said that he thought only of himself. Bah! what good are peasants without a leader? Where ends the war without a brain and heart to conduct it? Again, when, after the battle of Mohács, we threw off the Hungarian yoke, we of the Dracula blood were amongst their leaders, for our spirit would not brook that we were not free. Ah, young sir, the Szekelys—and the Dracula as their heart’s blood, their brains, and their swords—can boast a record that mushroom growths like the Hapsburgs and the Romanoffs can never reach. The warlike days are over. Blood is too precious a thing in these days of dishonourable peace; and the glories of the great races are as a tale that is told.”

It was certainly a… traditional understanding of history. Not talk that would go over all that well – even the Tories aren’t generally that flagrant.

At that point, however, the dawn was here, and we went to our own rooms. It feels as though I’m Scheherazade in 1001 Nights, with the way things shift only with the change of the sun over the horizon. Or the ghost of Hamlet’s father.

(AN: I took some time to think about whether Dracula would show up in a cell phone camera. Since it’s not silver-backed (likely the original reason vampires had no reflection), presumably it could at least catch his image. That said, silver is often use in electronics for solder, electrical contact, circuit board parts, etc, since it has very high conductivity, so his image wouldn’t transmit from the camera to the video display. Scene preserved! You learn something new every day.

That said, this fic will be pictureless for a while. :(

Destroying a phone is much worse than a mirror, so there are sections of this one that I had to create whole cloth and try to get across the horror of this problem. I’m not sure if I succeeded, but sometimes you just have to do your best and hope.

The description of what amounts to a collection of hallways, stairways, and locked doors with something stalking within admittedly reminded me immediately of backrooms type images, and I’ve always found that sort of thing especially unsettling.)

#dracula daily #just for fun #dracula 2023 #fanfic #I love it when I accidentally set up things getting worse #i'd forgotten that he broke the mirror when I started Jon using his phone as one #sometimes things just come together

[truckstoptigers]

I can't just be a normal person, can I? like that just isn't possible for me. there are things I will never be able to do. there are even more things I will never be able to do comfortably.

sometimes I can't brush my teeth because of what the motion reminds me of. sometimes I wait a few days too many to take a shower because I don't want to see my body. sometimes I think about cutting all my hair off because the last time it looked like this, I was still stuck with my father. the only difference is that my hair is dark brown now. I can't help but think I got it from him, because my mom is blonde & my grandma, her mother, is a redhead, and my uncle (mom's brother) has black hair. I don't want to share ANY features with that man - he was the one to drag me into hell - but my aunt makes a point sometimes to tell me I do. it makes me want to throw up.

in my head it's a constant stream of these memories on loop behind my eyes, and it never seems to end, stretching on into infinity. the worst moments of my life playing in technicolour over and over and over again, and I'm powerless to stop it. all I can really do right now is distract myself, but even that doesn't work sometimes. that's when I have to sneak away to the bathroom/outside so I can cry and not have anyone see me. sometimes I can't cry at all. sometimes I can't stop. I get nervous when random numbers I don't know call me multiple times a day because I'm scared that somehow, one of those men found me again. it's highly unlikely, but that doesn't soothe the fear any.

there's pictures and videos of me out there somewhere. I know there is. my father regularly took his own photos/videos so he could keep them for himself, but also so he could sell them. he had the men he sold me to pay extra if they wanted to 'document' anything for themselves. there might be indecent photos/videos of me as a child, being abused, on somebody's phone or laptop right now, and that disgusts me. there's nothing I can even do about it. I didn't have a choice. and now I'm nervous whenever I'm in front of a camera because I can't help but think about the camcorders and cameras and phones they used.

my appetite completely disappeared around the time I started recovering memories. a lot of the time I can go hours, even days, without feeling hungry once. I've lost around 30 or so pounds at this point. the last time it was this bad, I was 13, extremely depressed, constantly crying & suicidal. I can get myself to eat if I smoke a bowl, but otherwise it's like hunger doesn't even exist for me. I get hunger pangs, but none of the hunger that's supposed to come with them. sometimes I have to stop eating before I'm done because I start to gag.

I remember that my father would withhold food & drink from me basically whenever he wanted. or he would force them on me until I was gagging and, sometimes, throwing up, which I then was promptly punished for as if it was my fault. punishments always hurt. there was really only a few ways I could 'make it up to him,' as he would say, and all of them had to do with me laying down somewhere for him and letting him do what he wanted. whenever I make a mistake I still think of that, and it makes even the tiniest 'oops' turn into an anxious stomachache that lasts for hours because my hypervigilance kicks on and tells me something bad is about to happen to me for something as simple as dropping a cup that doesn't even break. I don't cry and hyperventilate anymore, and it took years to get to that point, but I'm still terrified every time.

I get nervous when random men stare at me a little too long in public because I can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, he was one of the many men who abused me, and he remembers what I don't. I get nervous when we're in a store and there's a man walking behind me - I can't get myself to calm down, even when they pass by. I feel like I have to be on guard 24/7 and I feel like the second I let it slip, something terrible will happen because I wasn't paying attention. even my own stepdad standing too close to me can trigger this response, and he has nothing to do w/ what my father was doing. I don't like to be crowded, but sometimes my stepdad will purposefully get into my space because he knows I don't like it. he doesn't know why I don't like it, but I shouldn't have to divulge my trauma for my boundaries to be respected. it makes me just as nervous as it does when it's a random man I don't know.

I don't get to be normal. I didn't even have a fucking personality before it started because I was literally a preschooler. I will never know the kind of person I could've been if none of this ever happened, and I will never get the childhood I should've had. I get to live with chronic pain that makes it hard for me to do anything but sit and wait for my meds to work. I get to have violently graphic flashbacks for no discernible reason that turn me into a sobbing, shaking mess for hours. I get to live with the fact that no one has to answer for the horrible things they did to me - at least, not in this life. I get to be severely traumatized to the point of constant fear that it will happen again. after all, it did happen again freshman year - just with someone else. and I can never be sure it won't ever happen again.

I can't be 'normal,' and I hate my father for that.

#csa vent #sometimes the brutality of it all feels cartoonish #like. wow that actually happened to me. its all real. it isnt something my mind made up just because. it really happened. you know? #milo murmurs #im gonna start counseling soon. i just hope it helps #i keep thinking about it & about him. about the other men. they dont deserve that kind of recognition/regard but i cant stop #on one hand its like i Finally know why i am the way i am but. on the other its like. why the fuck did it have to be like that #i was barely four #and i was 12 when i got out for good... #oh god #wait. thats. thats actually nine years #almost a fucking decade??????? #fuck

[dinesenkronborg73]

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[takenbyheartstrings]

Burden | corpse x reader

Summary: You and Corpse get into a nasty fight, which ends in broken hearts.

Pairing: Corpse x Fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Fluff

Authors Note: cried, laughed and cried again during this lmao. i just wanna give him a hug 🥺

requests are open!! <3

You groaned loudly, you and Corpse were in a heated fight, his symptoms started to flare, but he didn’t care, and neither did you.

You groaned loudly, your frustration bubbling, “Babe! I don’t care that you don’t wanna take pictures with me, I don’t fucking care that we can’t go outside, I don’t fucking care if I can’t show you off, because I love you.”

“Y/N YOU’RE NOT GETTING IT,” Corpse sighs, “Every fucking day I feel like I’m a burden to you. I feel like you can do so much better than me. BECAUSE YOU CAN. I FEEL LIKE I’M A FUCKING BURDEN.”

“I DON’T WANT BETTER THAN YOU. THERE IS NO BETTER THAN YOU AND YOU ARE NOT A BURDEN.” Pools of clear, salty water filled your eyes.

Corpse groaned, matching your frustration, “I’m just worried that I can’t give you the life you want, and I want you to have better. No, fuck that I need you to have better.”

“What does that mean for us then. I want you and you want me to have better than you.”

“I STILL WANT YOU Y/N, but I can’t fucking live with the fact that I couldn’t give you want you need. That I never can.”

You were in shock and you knew what was coming for the two of you, you just didn’t want to believe it at all and it was so fucked up and terrible and you knew you wouldn’t be able to live without this man. Your anxiety wouldn’t be able to handle that you weren’t with him anymore. Your breath became heavy, as you felt a weight on your heart. Your stomach shrunk and you felt so constricted by yourself. You shook your head at him, from the opposite side of the bed as both of you were on either side.

“We’re over, we’re done. Live a better life without me in it, y/n. As long as you’re happy, I won’t regret it.” Tears ran down the boy’s skin.

You weren’t angry anymore, you were anxious, you were in sobs, “Fine,” Corpse face fell when the word came out of your mouth.

You turned around and opened the closet that held the both of your clothes. Taking off Corpe’s sweater that you were currently wearing, throwing it at him, taking all your clothes out of the closet, opening a duffle bag shoving everything inside of it. Putting on another shirt to cover up the bra that covered your chest. You couldn’t believe he would end things with you. After all you guys have been through.

You convinced him to move out to L.A. when most of your friends had made the same exact transition. You got him to open up to you without even trying in the first two weeks of knowing him. You were the first person he showed his face before he showed the rest of your friends. He said I love you first and was okay with it when you were hesitant about saying it back, even though you said it three days later without even knowing you had. You were both sat in bed and he said “You said it back.” “Said what back?” “I love you. You said it, this morning when you hung up the phone.”.

After throwing the duffle bag over your shoulder, you looked at him once more, “I’ll be back tomorrow to get the rest of my things, my PC, my set up, all of it. You can keep the TV, you can keep everything else, I just need my set up.”

“Done. See you tomorrow.” Corpse sighed, taking a seat on what had been a shared bed, was now his. He couldn’t believe he was sleeping in the king bed the two of you had bought because you were one of the biggest bed hog’s he had ever met. You walked out and he looked down at the f/c coloured bed sheets you had convinced him to let you put on, even though he preferred the black ones, but you let him have the wall behind the two of you black and helped him painted the room. As well as painting the walls of his gaming room black too.

You got into your little Honda Civic, as you drove for around 15 minutes finally reaching Rae’s house. You told yourself you wouldn’t break down in front of her, but you knew that you would. You got out of your car, and closed the door as you walked up to Rae’s front door. Knocking on it, she didn’t answer at first but you looked down at the clock on your phone, noticing that it was 12:00am. Although she might’ve been sleeping, she could’ve been streaming.

So you knocked again, and she opened the door, her bedroom room was lit up from what you could see, and she was streaming. She noticed the duffle bag and let you in, placing a finger to her lips telling you to whisper. Running back to her stream room.

“Well guys! I’m getting tired so, I’m gonna end it here, goodnight!” She said cheerily. Before shutting off her PC and ending the stream walking back out into her living room to see you sitting on the couch. You were in sobs.

“He ended it, Rae, he ended things with me and I can’t br-breath.” You said taking a deep breath as she sat down next to you pulling you close to her. “How am I supposed to go and get my things tomorrow, I can’t even think about him without crying and picturing his smile and hearing his laugh and crying. What hurts even worse is the fact that he didn’t even want to end it, he ended it because he said I could do better. When I can’t get better than him.”

“What makes him say that?” She asks.

“He thinks he’s holding me back. He thinks because he doesn’t show his face online, he doesn’t want to leave the house, he thinks he’s holding me back and he’s not because that’s not what people do when they love eachother, when people love eachother, they walk through life together. They experience things together. We loved eachother.”

“Y/n, it’s gonna be okay, you just need to talk to him, you both clearly still want to be together, so you just need to tell him what you told me - he’s loosing his mind if he’s letting you out of all the people go. So when you go pick up your things, talk to him.”

You nodded, “Yeah. You’re right. I’ll just talk to him.”

Well, talking to him was harder than you thought. You texted him five minutes before you got there to give him a heads up. You walked upto the front door the next morning, seeing a yellow post-it note on the front door.

Pick up your things, text me when you leave.

You sighed, calling Rae, “Rae, can you come help me get my stuff, Corpse isn’t here,,, he left.”

“On my way.” She sighs.

With the two of you getting your set up, it didn’t take long before it was dismantled and in both of your cars. Your pc, mic and monitor and your now broken desk chair in your car, and your desk in Raes.

Gone <3

Was what you texted Corpse after you left. You thought the little heart was cute, but you knew it wasn’t needed and so did you. You didn’t set your stuff up at Rae’s knowing it would only be temporary. You told your fans you were visiting your parents and wouldn’t be streaming for a little bit. Though they knew something was up, you hadn’t responded to any of Corpse’s tweets or hadn’t commented on the fact that he posted another hand pic, usually a cute remark like “that’s one sexy hand ^-^” or something like that would be in the comments.

Every night that week without him, you cried yourself to sleep, every night the next week, you did the same, and the week after that, you did it again. It had been almost a month since you guys had ended things and you still cried. You would keep crying. Corpse knew you were staying with Rae, and made sure to ask her if you were okay. Short answer, Rae told him every time: No.

It was raining one night, fit the mood, as you sat in bed on your laptop watching streams of him play, missing his laugh and his voice. You frequently went back to the stream where he couldn’t do admin swipe, because that was the hardest he had laughed on camera. The hardest he had ever laughed was when you two had fallen off of the bed, when you had surprised him with a kiss. A heavy thump echoed through the house as the both of you fell into a fit of laughter, you had calmed down, but he was still going - couldn’t look at you without bursting into a laughing fit - he tried to stop the laughter, because it was making his stomach hurt like 30,000 knifes, but he couldn’t. That admin swipe didn’t even come close. But it was close enough for you as you cried watching them. You opened your camera roll to which you found lots of photos of him. You cried.

You got up out of Rae’s guest bed. She was streaming so you just shot her a text careful not to give your location away. She shot you a simple text back as you left the house in your little black honda civic, you looked at the little plastic bag he had set up for your gum wrappers and used gum.

Tears ran down your face as the rain followed. You sighed getting out of the car standing in the rain contemplating if you should go and knock on the door or not. You knew he wouldn’t be doing okay. Or maybe he was, but you just knew him too well to know he wouldn’t be hurting.

“Fuck it.” You muttered under your breath.

You walked up to the front door, knocking on it furiously as the porch light turned on. He opened the door. You looked at his face, his eyes were bloodshot red like yours, and you could hear tiny sniffles coming from his nose. You could see the couch behind him had been pulled out into the bed, but there was nobody staying over. He couldn’t sleep in the bed the two of you shared. But you knew you had to give the sappy ass speech because you were both hurting.

“When I started streaming in 2015, I didn’t think it would be like this. Y’know. I knew I’d be meeting people left and right, but I didn’t know I would meet you. Until I did. Then we started to talk outside of the group and streams and, everything else. Then you opened up to me about everything you possibly could and we knew each other for two months. But that felt like years. Then you asked me to come to San Fransisco and thank god i said yes. Then we went on two dates on your balcony and they were perfect, and thennnn you asked me to be your girlfriend and of course I said yes. One year later, I convince you to move to L.A. with me, you say yes. We move here, buy a house, everything was perfect. Two years later, I’m sitting in bed for one month, crying over you, because we both want each other, you just wanna give me better. But that’s not how it works. How it works is we go through life together and I’m fine waiting for you, because I can’t live without you. I can’t function without you and people who love eachother go through life together and we loved eachother. I still love you.” By the end of it, your words were unintelligible to anyone but him.

He just looked at you, the same tears running down his face as you, he sighs of relief, “Thank fuck. I tried to call you everyday, but I couldn’t. Not after I was a coward like that. It was so fucking shitty of me to do that to you - I just wanted you to have better. I needed you to have better.” He cried as you pulled him close, your foreheads touching.

“It’s okay,” You said hugging his head.

“Please take me back, please.” He choked.

Your foreheads touched, “Of course I’ll take you back, I need you back.”

Your soft lips pressed onto his as you both smiled against it. You could taste the salty water between your lips. Although Corpse’s eyes were now dried. He smiled down at you pulling you back into a hug. Rae texted you as you heard the familiar ding of your phone.

Pulling away from Corpse and pulling your phone out, a screenshot of both you and Corpse’s bitmoji’s showed up on Rae’s snap maps. A message sat underneath it.

this you? 🤭

You chuckled showing Corpse as he let out a laugh with you.

yeah SDFJHDKFSJDNG spending the night here :)

i knew you guys could get through this! see you tomorrow, come pick up your shit 😐

SDJFKDJF all jokes aside - thank you so much Rae, i wouldn’t have been okay without you. i hope i wasn’t a burden on you.

of course you weren’t! now remember, i’ll see you tomorrow 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

So that night, you lay in your bed with your boyfriend. Your boyfriend. God, it felt nice to say that again. It was warm and soft and you liked the way his chest fell up and down as you lay on it. His strong arms around you. Careful never to let you go again.

People don’t believe in soulmates, but you knew you had found yours, as when you thought he was asleep, he intertwined your fingers together, as you both fell asleep entangled in between each other.

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse x reader fluff #corpse x reader imagines #corpse husband x reader fluff #corpse husband fluff #corpse x reader angst #corpse husband x reader angst #corpse #valkyrae #valkyrae x reader

[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

A/N: hi lovely people! i hope you are all having a great day! drink some water! love you all!

Masterlist

Chapter 13

Spencer got a call from you one morning when he was leaving his apartment to pick Jo up for school.

“Spencer,” your voice sounded deeper than normal.

“I’m sick,” you groaned.

“Aw, I’m sorry. What are your symptoms?” he asked.

“Stuffy nose, fever, headache, and a sore throat,” you sniffled.

“Could you take Jo for the weekend after you pick her up today? I don’t want her getting infected too.”

“Of course, do you need me to get you anything?” he asked.

“No thanks, you’re sweet but I’m fine. Stay away from my room, germaphobe,” you giggled slightly.

“You’re going to have to get Jo all ready for school. I just knocked on her door to wake her up. I didn’t want to take any chances,” you informed him.

“Okay, feel better, sweetheart,” Spencer said.

You made a kissing sound through the phone before hanging up, presumably to go back to bed.

-

Spencer walked inside to find Jo sitting in front of the TV.

“Mommy isn’t coming out of her room,” she stated.

“I know, she’s sick so she is protecting us from all the icky germs. You are going to spend the weekend at Daddy’s place,” he picked Jo up, bringing her into the kitchen and pouring her a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios.

“Eat up,” he said, pushing the bowl in front of her after adding milk and a spoon, “then Daddy is going to do your hair before we go.”

While Jo ate, Spencer packed her lunch and wrote a little note:

The word ‘dinosaur’ means ‘terrible lizard’ in Greek. See you later, Princess! Eat all of your cucumber slices!

Love,

Daddy

He sketched a little heart doodle to finish off the note, folding it and slipping it into Jo’s lunch box.

Spencer called Hotch as he was carrying Jo out to the car.

“Hey, Hotch. Can I have the day off?” he asked.

“Sure, Reid. You have plenty of sick days saved up. Is everything alright?”

“Y/N is sick so I’ve got Jo for the weekend and I want to clean up my apartment and do some grocery shopping beforehand,” Spencer explained, the phone pressed between his shoulder and ear as he buckled Jo in.

“Alright, see you Monday, Reid. Tell Jo I say hi,” he said.

“Will do,” Spencer hung up the phone.

“Uncle Aaron says hi,” he said to Jo.

“Hi Uncle Aaron!” Jo exclaimed even though the phone call had already ended.

-

After dropping Jo off, Spencer drove to the grocery store.

He picked up some snacks and food to replenish his empty cabinets so Jo wouldn’t starve at his apartment. He was going to attempt to make them spaghetti and meatballs for dinner but he picked up a bag of dino nuggets as a backup.

On the way home to his apartment, he stopped back at your house and walked inside, calling your phone as he set grocery bags down on the kitchen counter.

“Hey, I’m back. I know you said to stay away but I wanted to drop off a few things,” Spencer put the phone on speaker as he began to put away the groceries, “I got you some oranges because their vitamin C will help your immune system. I got you popsicles and ice cream to help with your fever and sore throat. I also got you some more tea and soup. And, I picked up some spring rolls for you that you can reheat whenever you are hungry.”

“You are the best. Thank you, Spence,” you sleepily replied.

“I don’t know what medicine you have been taking so far but after examining the ingredients of different over-the counter medicines in the pharmacy aisle, I found two that I think will work best to fend off your symptoms if taken together,” Spencer said, walking upstairs.

“I’m leaving them both outside your door with a glass of water,” he knelt down to place the pill bottles and water on the ground.

“If I’m up for it later, can I facetime you and Jo?” you asked hopefully.

“I will figure out how to use that just for you,” Spencer smiled.

“Just swipe to accept it like a normal phone call except then I will be able to see both of your beautiful little faces,” you giggled.

“Okay, try to get some rest, drink lots of water, and try to eat something if you can,” Spencer encouraged.

“See you later, Spence.”

-

After spending the rest of the day cleaning his apartment and putting away stacks of books that were on the floor so Jo wouldn’t trip, Spencer went to go pick her up.

“Here, Daddy,” she handed him a purple piece of paper with lots of glitter glue on it as she came running out of the classroom into his awaiting arms.

“Another Jo original?” he beamed, “Is this me, you, and Mommy again?”

Jo nodded, “We need one for your fridge too.”

“How thoughtful,” Spencer lifted the girl up and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“I went back home to check on Mommy and I packed you a bag of clothes and your favorite toys so you should be all set for the weekend but we can go back if we need to,” he explained to Jo as he carried her out to the car.

-

Spencer had managed to make him and Jo spaghetti even though it was just from a box. He even asked Rossi for his meatball recipe and made those from scratch. Jo cleared her plate so she seemed to enjoy the meal or she was just sparing her Daddy’s feelings.

They were watching a National Geographic dinosaur documentary when your contact photo came up on Spencer’s phone screen. It was a picture of you that he had insisted on taking on your date because you “looked too beautiful to not admire forever in photo form”. His phone lockscreen had also been changed from just a generic scenic landscape photo to a picture that Penelope had taken of you, Spencer, and Jo at Rossi’s party.

Spencer held the phone up and swiped accept.

“Hi!” you smiled, waving through the phone, you were still laying in bed.

“Mommy!” Jo exclaimed, standing up on the couch and sitting in Spencer’s lap to see better.

“Hi, Baby J! How is Daddy’s place?” you asked.

“Good! We had spaghetti and meatballs and now we are watching a dinosaur show and Daddy bought oreos,” Jo giggled, holding up a half-eaten cookie with crumbs on her face.

“Wow he’s really spoiling you,” you laughed, “Daddy brought me spring rolls and they are helping me get all better,” you smiled, taking a bite of one of them.

“Glad you are feeling better, sweetheart,” Spencer grinned.

“I’ll give it another day but you and Jo may be able to come back on Sunday after I disinfect everything,” you replied.

“Jo, say bye bye to Mommy so she can finish her dinner and go to bed,” Spencer prompted her.

“Night night, Mommy. Love you,” she waved at the camera, blowing a kiss.

“Bye Jo. Love you too! Be good for Daddy!” you waved back, “Night, Spence.”

“Good night, Y/N,” Spencer smiled, ending the call.

Twenty minutes later, Jo was out cold in Spencer’s lap, cuddled into his chest. Spencer smiled softly, picking her up and bringing her to his bed.

“Sweet dreams, Jo,” he whispered, giving her his usual goodnight kiss on the forehead.

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[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

In Times Past

Character: Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Summary: Bruce Wayne’s life doesn’t exist beyond the fake storylines he performs for the media and citizens of Gotham. Maybe the only person that can change that is someone who knew him before Batman ever even existed. 

Word Count: 8,200+ [One Shot]

Warnings: Violence, mentions of sexual harrassment

A/N: As I teased before, this was inspired by this scene from Batman Begins. 

Bruce could sense Alfred’s tension when he walked into the kitchen that morning. The man was not one to hold back his thoughts and feelings. It was both a blessing and a curse. But Bruce sensed it was the latter today.

Before Bruce could even get a sip of coffee in, Alfred tossed the Sunday newspaper in front of him.

On the front page was a photo of Batman, far too high of a resolution for Bruce’s liking. ‘BATMAN: SAVIOR OR MENACE?’ the headline read.

“A little too close for comfort, don’t you think?” Alfred asked with a hint of sass.

However, Bruce controlled his reaction.

“Not the first time I’ve been photographed, Alfred.”

“You’re dancing with the devil, Master Wayne.”

“So, what? You want me to lay down the cape because everyone in America has the ability to take a photo on their cellphone?”

“Of course not,” Alfred retorted. Though Alfred secretly wished every day that Bruce would say goodbye to the Batman. “I just thought perhaps you should be putting a bit more effort into Bruce Wayne’s life if you really want to throw Gotham off your trail.”

Then he tossed another newspaper. This one of Bruce Wayne, the other mask he wore.

‘Bruce Wayne Lights Up the Room at Charity Ball.’

Alfred points to the date…it was 9 months ago. And it was unfortunately the last time Bruce Wayne was in the press.

“You better start creating alibis, Master Wayne, or the dark web will start to putting two and two together…”

Bruce sighed. He knew Alfred was right. But he hated all that went with what he had to do. He’d rather face off with Gotham’s deadliest criminals than go galavanting around the city as the self-absorbed and reckless playboy persona that he’d created.

“There is a birthday party for Eaton Elliot next weekend. Naturally, being old family friends, you received an invitation,” Alfred explained. “Plenty of press will be there to note your attendance. Seems rather convenient."

Bruce recognized the name. It was the older brother of Thomas Elliot, a childhood friend that he slightly lost touch with. He’d see him or his parents at various events, and things were always cordial.

But it didn’t really matter how absent or quiet Bruce was when it came to maintaining such relationships. Everyone forgave such behavior when it came to saving face with the only living member of the Wayne family. Bruce could spit in the faces of Gotham’s elite and they’d probably thank him for it.

“Black tie affair, as always,” Alfred added as he slipped the invitation to Bruce. “Perhaps you could bring a date…”

Bruce glared up at the butler. “Dates make it harder to make a quick and quiet exit, Alfred.”

“Well, maybe that’s the point, Master Wayne.”

————

Just like he was on patrol or working on an op, Bruce had prepared for every single scenario. He made a plan that would be the most effective in the shortest amount of time. He didn’t want to torture himself any longer than absolutely necessary.

When Alfred asked him again if he was planning on bringing a date, Bruce had only replied with a mischievous smirk.

Because he walked in with a girl on each arm.

It wasn’t the classy or gentlemanly thing to do. And that was exactly the point.

Conversations paused, attention was turned, and flashes went off.

Bruce Wayne made his entrance.

He carefully fell into the groove of being the spoiled brat everyone had painted him out to be. It had been awhile since he played the part, but Bruce always found it easy when he was surrounded by these kinds of people.

Bruce made sure to slightly slur his words. He would get too handsy with his dates. He would rudely interrupt people to share his own useless opinion on whatever topic was leading the conversation. He never looked waitstaff in the eye.

But now it was time for the finale.

Bruce whispered a certain suggestion into the ears of his dates.

They shared a look that proved they were both game.

The three of them stumbled into a bathroom – one out in the open that most of the guests would be steered toward.

The kissing began and clothes were quickly shifted.

There was a split moment when Bruce wondered what this would feel like for a man who actually wanted to be in this situation.

The two woman managed unbuckle his belt, the clanking metal echoing in the all-tile bathroom.

But just as they unbuttoned and then unzipped his pants, Bruce’s cellphone rang loudly.

Right on cue.

“Ladies, ladies, ladies,” Bruce whined. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” his words stumbled out. “But I just have to take this call.”

“Aww. Brucie. You’re no fun,” one of the women fussed.

But Bruce gave off enough dominate energy that they didn’t try to fight him on it.

Hair disheveled, mouth swollen and pink, lipstick stains on his skin and his pants and belt barely put back together, Bruce stumbled out of the bathroom first.

The two women didn’t bother to stay back and spread out their exits, making it very clear what had just happened – or what it looked like just happened.

It didn’t matter that Bruce didn’t actually have sex with them, every woman in Gotham wanted to say they’d shared a bed with Bruce Wayne. His two dates would lie to save face and get street cred. Bruce hated that he knew that, that it was guaranteed.

Dozens of people, who were socializing near the bathroom, stopped what they were doing and watched with judgmental looks. Some men looked jealous. Some women looked disgusted and eyed the two women up and down.

Then there was the flash of a camera.

Bingo.

Bruce wouldn’t have to linger much longer now.  

He played up being somewhat embarrassed.

But just as he put his phone to his ear to take the fake call that Alfred dialed, he saw the last person he expected.

It caused him to do a double take and freeze. 

His focus fell for a moment as they made eye contact.

Why did she have to be here?

Why did she have to be one of his witnesses?

Why did it hurt so much to see how she looked at him as if he were a stranger?

And why did she have to look so god damn beautiful?

Y/F/N Y/L/N.

The Y/L/N family were another one of Gotham’s elite – well, they used to be.

Y/N’s father was once worth billions. But being born into wealth didn’t guarantee intelligence or the skills to properly run the family business. When Bruce and Y/N were in high school, Y/N’s father filed for bankruptcy and confessed that the family was about to lose everything. With the announcement, the press also exposed Mr. Y/L/N’s many lustful affairs.

What came next was a messy and brutal divorce that the media ate up.  

Out of spite, Y/N’s mother remarried her ex-husband’s biggest competitor, maintaining her status and wealth, and making sure she still came out on top. It was the greatest revenge and even Y/N had to give her mother credit for the ingenuity of it all.

Bruce remembered how terrible it all was for Y/N, who was used as a pawn in her parents war against each other.

Having had enough of it, Y/N fled Gotham and chose to live with her eccentric great aunt in London and finished her last year of high school there.

But Y/N didn’t run away from Bruce. They emailed, texted, video chatted, called.

They had always been good friends.

The elites of Gotham always suspected the two would get married. But both Bruce and Y/N pretended to ignore such whisperings.

But when Bruce shifted his life, when he changed his life’s purpose, when he started becoming a vigilante…he stopped taking Y/N’s calls and he stopped returning them.

He told himself it was better that way. He couldn’t handle any distractions. Batman didn’t have time for personal relationships, so neither did Bruce Wayne. But more importantly, Y/N deserved someone who would prioritize her – even just as a friend.

Now Bruce needed to get actually drunk.

Putting the phone back to his ear, he broke eye contact and made a beeline for one of the bars. 

“Did you forget to tell me about the guest list, Alfred?” Bruce muttered evenly to the phone, knowing that Alfred would easily be able to hear his anger and irritation.

“How was I to know who RSVPed yes or no…” Alfred bit back. But he knew exactly who Bruce was looking at.

Bruce frowned as he ended the call abruptly and asked for a whiskey.

“I don’t know, man. She’s not my type,” a man said to his friend.

The two of them were just a foot or two away from Bruce.

“What do you mean ‘not your type’? She’s fucking hot.”

“Don’t get me wrong, she’s beautiful. But she’s so stiff and uptight. Look, she’s had a resting bitch face all night.”

Bruce’s grip on his face tightened as he easily put together who they were talking about. It was moments like these that Bruce hated being lumped together with men like this.

“You’re an idiot,” the friend said with a laugh.

“Oh, yeah? Alright. If you’re so obsessed with her, why don’t you go over and talk to her?”

Bruce saw his window. 

With a sloppy haste, Bruce turned right into the two men and just happened to spill his drink over the man who was about to make a move on Y/N.

Bruce laughed and spilled another drink on the bar as he tried to grab some nearby cocktail napkins. “Gentleman, gentleman…I so dearly apologize.”

Both of them were clearly annoyed, but then realized who he was.  

Bruce gripped them by the shoulders and made sure his eyes were struggling to stay open. “I could be wrong…but it’s possible…that I have been over served.”

He broke out into a chuckle and both men forced their own laughter.

Bruce subtle glanced over to where Y/N had been standing. She’d disappeared.

He’d spared her…for now.

“I think it’s time I go home,” Bruce told them too loudly. “Do me a favor? Wish her congratulations for me?”

The two men looked at one another. “Congratulations? To who?”

Bruce frowned in confusion and looked around. “Isn’t this an engagement party?”

They tried to hide their laughter. “Wayne, this is a birthday party. For Eaton Elliot.”

Bruce’s brows shot up. “A birthday party? Look at that!”

Then he turned around, zigzagged his walk, and threw a wave over his shoulder.

But Bruce wasn’t that lucky.

Because when he made his way to the valet, he found Y/N waiting patiently with her back to him. 

Her fancy dress and gloves seemed to do nothing to help protect her from the cold night. 

Bruce could’ve left. He could’ve left her alone, gone back into the party, and made more of a fool of himself.

But next thing he knew, he was walking forward.  

“Waiting for your car?”

Y/N didn’t turn to him, but it was clear that she heard his question and recognized who it had come from. “I didn’t drive. They’re getting me a cab.”

Bruce nodded slowly even though she wasn’t looking at him.

All charm had left his body now that he had quit the act. It wasn’t going to do any favors for him. He needed to do this on his own, as his real self.

Y/N finally turned with a slight attitude and Bruce was taken aback at how she was even more beautiful up close.

“What are you doing here, Bruce?”

He smirked. “I’m here for the party, of course.” He didn’t want to play the part anymore – not with her. But it was second nature at this point.

Her lips pursed at his response.

“Leaving so soon?” He asked.

Y/N sighed. “Between you and me, I’m only here as a favor to my mother. She wouldn’t get off my back about coming. I tried to leave sooner, but…”

One of the valets hopped up the steps. “I’m sorry, Dr. Y/L/N. It can take awhile to get cabs in the area at this time of night.”

Y/N gave him a sympathetic smile and opened her mouth to say she’d walk home.

“I’ll drive her home,” Bruce spoke before she could. Then he handed the valet his ticket.

Y/N looked at him with confusion and a bit of annoyance. “You really don’t have to do that.”

Bruce just gave her a look that said he absolutely did.

Then Y/N gestured back to the party. “You’re just gonna abandon your dates?”

The way she asked made it clear that Y/N had seen Bruce stumble out of the bathroom with the two of them. He also didn’t miss how she emphasized the plural.

“They’ll be fine,” Bruce told her.

He took a step toward her. “Let me give you a ride, Y/N.”

She took in a deep breath.

She knew she needed the ride. Only an idiot would walk home at this time of night, even if the walk to her apartment was a relatively safe one for Gotham standards.

Y/N just nodded.

A minute later, an Aston Martin drove up.

Bruce offered his arm to Y/N and helped her down the stairs before opening the passenger door for her.

He handed the valet a few bills, not even noticing they were all hundreds.

“Where to?” Bruce asked her.

“Oh, umm…” Y/N quickly gave him her address.

“I know you’ve been gone awhile, but you definitely shouldn’t be walking around the streets of Gotham at night.”

Y/N scoffed. “I’m aware. I moved back awhile ago.”

“Oh. I didn’t know…”

“Yeah. Well, why would you? It’s not like you kept in touch.”

The car filled with silence.

Y/N stared out the passenger window, looking at the skyscraper lights of Gotham

It seemed Y/N had no issue with staying silent for the whole car ride.There was nothing awkward about it for her.

But Bruce knew there were things he needed to say. “I’m sorry.”

This was the last thing Y/N expected and her head whipped to him.

But Bruce kept his eyes on the road. “For disappearing like I did.”

Y/N slowly turned back to the passenger window and said nothing.

Bruce didn’t expect to win her forgiveness. He would have to deal with that. But at least he could apologize.

“Y/N.” Bruce said it ever so quietly, like he was forbidden from speaking it. “This isn’t…I’m not…” Dammit. What was he even trying to accomplish right now? “Back there–”

“Back there?” Y/N interrupted his fumbling. “Oh, you mean the threesome you had in a bathroom at a party?”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

Everyone bought his performance. Unfortunately, even Y/N.

Bruce pulled over and Y/N realized they were at her building already.

“You can say whatever makes you feel good, Bruce. Have at it.” Then she threw open the car door.

She put her hand on the handle to help herself out.

But she hesitated.

No. She wasn’t going down without a fight.

Y/N spun around to face Bruce, his blue eyes already waiting for her.

“You used to be kind. Strong and brave. You were better than all of them.”

And for the first time, Bruce really saw the damage he had done.

“Is that boy really gone?” She searched his eyes for the answer. “What is the act and what is the truth?” She whispered. “Huh, Bruce?”

He wanted to tell her.

Bruce had never felt the urge to expose his secret ever before.

But right now? Right now, he wanted to take Y/N back to the manor, drag her down to the cave, and show her all of his secrets – every single one.

But he couldn’t. And he knew that.

Bruce kept his face reserved.

His brow furrowed for just a second as he took Y/N in. All of her. Her eyelashes. Her lips. The styling of her hair. The dip of her neck.

“You became quite the woman, Y/N.” He told her. “And a beautiful one at that.”

Y/N blinked at the statement. Her mind desperately tried to decipher the hidden message in his words, in his actions from the night. But she came up with nothing.

She wanted to say that she knew he was using flattery to divert her attention from what she wanted to know. But it was also clear that he genuinely meant what he said as well. His eyes seeming to be taking in every moment of being in her presence.

If Y/N weren’t so irritated, she probably would’ve been more taken aback by his compliment, feeling vulnerable and almost embarrassed.

There wasn’t any point in pushing.

So Y/N took in a breath. “Thank you for the ride, Bruce.”

He just nodded. Then he watched her walk to the door of her apartment building. He probably lingered a few moments too long, but he couldn’t bring himself to once again put distance between them.

————

Alfred brought down food and an espresso to the cave.

When he looked up, Y/F/N Y/L/N’s face was on the giant screen.

“Working on a case, Master Wayne?” He asked with his usual sarcasm.

Bruce ignored the question. “She attended undergrad in Metropolis and then went to grad school in New York City.”

“Yes, I can see that…considering you have her student records exploited all over the screen,” Alfred responded with a smirk. “She’s been living in Gotham again for a few years, working as a psychiatrist. Even volunteers her services at Arkham – pro bono.”

That caught Bruce’s attention. He turned away from the screen to look at Alfred.

“I found no record of that,” he argued.

“Yes. Well, her mother is rather embarrassed by it. Thinks it gives the family a bad image. She insisted Y/N’s philanthropy was kept secret, even approved the NDAs herself.”

Bruce gave him a look, utterly confused how Alfred had access to such information.

Alfred raised an eyebrow. “Never underestimate the power of gossip, Master Wayne. Most family secrets cannot be found on the dark corners of the internet.” Then he smirked. “You would gain quite the knowledge if you didn’t turn your nose up at it.”

Bruce smiled at that and turned back to the computer.

“So, I take it that it was good seeing her?” Alfred pressed.

Bruce tensed at the question. “Not entirely. I’m certain that she hates me.”

“Hates you or hates the character you’ve so carefully created?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just Bruce Wayne to her.”

Alfred opened his mouth to say more.

“Leave it, Alfred.” Bruce cut off before he could.

“Well, it appears I’m not the one struggling with leaving it alone, Master Wayne.”

Like many of Gotham’s elites, Alfred had humored the idea that Bruce and Y/N would make a marvelous couple. Like Bruce, Y/N didn’t let money and power sway her morals or damage her good and kind heart.

Alfred had always enjoyed having her over and listening to her and Bruce’s laughter as they caused trouble around the manor and entertained themselves.

But he also saw how her departure effected Bruce, no matter how much the teenager had tried to hide it at the time.

Maybe Alfred was an optimist or a romantic, but he still believed there was a chance for the two of them. But Bruce, quite frankly, would have to get over himself and his stubbornness.

————

Bruce was looking down at the city from yet another rooftop. It had been a quiet night. And he hated nights like that. It was always ended up being the calm before a storm.

“Batman?” Alfred spoke into his comms.

“Yes.”

“It appears there’s been a breakout at Arkham. The media hasn’t caught wind of it yet. But law enforcement has already been dispatched.”

“I’m on my way,” Bruce announced as he slid down a fire escape and made his way to the batmobile that he’d hidden in the shadows of an alley.

“Master Wayne…” Alfred knew to only use codenames on comms.

Bruce tense. “What is it?”

There was hesitation from the butler. “Y/N was scheduled to work a shift there tonight…”

Bruce said nothing. But his foot pressed the gas pedal down further than necessary.

—

Y/N was sitting with a patient when the alarm went off.

The people that worked there called them inmates, and corrected her every time she chose not to use that title.

Harleen Quinzel had been sitting across from Y/N for almost 30 minutes when they were interrupted.

“Oh, fun!” Harley clapped and giggled as the sirens filled their ears.

Harley and Y/N had formed an interesting relationship. The criminal seemed to like her and looked forward to her visits. She never threatened Y/N or tried to manipulate her.

Y/N believes she won her over by addressing her as Dr. Quinzel and often asking her professional opinions on trends and news in their industry. 

Most people there only referred to Harley as if she was property of the Joker, no matter how many times Harley clarified that she wasn’t his anything anymore.

“Does this happen a lot?” Y/N asked her, trying to remain calm.

“Not enough, if ya ask me!” She laughed.

Y/N made the mistake of opening the door and seeing that the majority of the cells had been opened and prisoners were slowly making their way into the hallway.

“Not good,” Y/N muttered.

“Don’t worry, doc. I’ll protect ya! Us gals gotta stick together.” Harley said from behind her shoulder.

Y/N whipped around and looked at her and then at the table she’d been sitting at. “Dr. Quinzel! How did you get out of your restraints?”

“Oh, I’ve always been able to. I just leave ‘em on to be polite.”

Y/N sighed. No one had explained any sort of protocol for such a situation.

“Where the fuck are all the guards?” Y/N asked.

Suddenly the lights shut off.

“Yippy!” Harley cheered.

Y/N turned to her and softly grabbed her shoulder, but gave her an insistent look. “Harley, we need to get somewhere safe.”

Her face did dip to serious for a moment. “You don’t need to worry about me. But you’re right. Not everyone in here appreciates a shrink…”

To her surprise, Harley starts pulling her through the darkness with a purpose.

Y/N had no idea where she was planning on taking her. It seemed all the doors were in lock-down mode, leaving her stranded. If she survived tonight, she’d definitely be bringing that up to the board.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Y/N yelped at the sound.

Someone had either gotten a hold of a gun or security guards were opening fire.

Either way, it caused chaos to erupt.

Suddenly the dark hallways were being filled with a stampede of prisoners. Either they wanted to take down the guard who was shooting or they were getting an adrenaline rush at the concept of their peers attacking their wardens.

The crowd ripped the two women apart. Y/N was shoved up against the wall and her head slammed against the cement.

Y/N swore under her breath from the pain.

“Is that…No, it can’t be…”

A voice called out over the madness.

A chill went up Y/N’s spine. She’d know that voice anywhere.

The Joker.

He wasn’t one of her patients. All researchers and doctors were forbidden to speak with him – especially after what happened with Harley.

But that didn’t stop the Joker from knowing who Y/N was. He whined and whined about feeling left out. “All my pals get to chat with her and all I get to do is look!”

Now, Joker was free from him isolation.

Y/N suspected he was behind the breakout.

And he was going to make a slight detour. A detour that was doing whatever the hell he wanted to with Dr. Y/L/N.

Y/N didn’t even bother hiding her fear. With a new found strength and endurance, she started shoving her way through the mob.

“I hear you and my pumpkin’ pie have gotten close.” Then his smile dropped. “Too close, if ya ask me.”

Y/N ignored him as another prisoner shoved into her shoulder.

“I don’t appreciate you putting ideas in her head!”

Y/N stopped, realizing she had miscalculated her escape and had come to a dead end.

So she slowly turned around to face him, putting her back to the wall. “And what ideas are those?”

“Independence. Self respect. A life beyond crime and incarceration,” he spat.

Y/N realized he had his goonies flanking him, only making her odds that much worse.

“Those aren’t ideas. They’re a reality, a possible future,” she defended.

Joker didn’t like that answer one bit. He threw himself against her, once again slamming Y/N into the wall.

He gripped her chin roughly and smiled with his yellow teeth. “You know…she’s not the only doctor I’d like to break in. And in more ways than one, if you catch my drift,” he giggled.

Then his eyes raked over her body, up and down. His hands slid down her hips and the side of her legs until they got to the hem of her pencil skirt.

Y/N shoved him away with all of her strength. 

But that earned her a slap across the face from him.

Joker gripped her waist tightly pressing her between the wall and his body. “I’m in charge now, doc. And I’ve got a few lessons to teach you.”

His hands grabbed at the buttons of her blouse and with one jerk, he ripped open her her blouse.

But before he could go any further, a few of his lackeys cried out in pain. 

Y/N swore she heard the sound of objects whipping through the darkness. 

She didn’t want to let herself feel any relief. But she hoped Harley had made her way back to her. She’d probably pack an even heavier punch once she realized Y/N needed protecting from her asshole ex.

But when Joker turned around and Y/N followed his gaze, Harley was nowhere to be found.

Yet three men were on the ground, unconscious.

“Well, well, well,” Joker muttered in amusement. “Has Batsy come out to play?”

Next thing Y/N saw was a shadow dropping down out of nowhere and taking out even more of Joker’s men.

Joker seemed to be prepared for such an interruption. Because he grabbed a knife from somewhere hidden on his body and ripped Y/N off the wall. He pressed Y/N’s back to his chest and put the tip of his knife to her throat.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” Joker sang.

To Y/N’s shock, Batman stepped into what little light was in the hallway.

“Long time, no see!” Joker screamed so loudly that Y/N flinched. “Did you miss me, Batsy? And you came all this way to see little old me?! How very sweet!”

“Your attempted escape was a failure,” Batman stated. “There’s nowhere for you to go. All the exits are blocked. Arkham has been contained.”

“What a shame! I really felt this one was gonna work!” Joker laughed.

Batman took a step toward him. “It’s over, Joker.”

“You’re probably right,” Joker shrugged. “But I really wanted to have some fun with doc here. So, if you could give us some privacy.”

Batman’s eyes flickered to Y/N’s for a brief moment. “Let her go,” he warned.

“How about…no?” Joker laughed.

Just as Batman was about to make his move, Y/N grabbed the wrist of Joker’s arm that held the knife. She twisted it and dived in such a succinct motion that it was obvious Y/N had been trained.

Whipping herself out of Joker’s grip, she twisted Joker’s arm so roughly and quickly behind his back that he had no choice but to drop his knife from the pain.

Then Y/N was now facing him, and with one swift swing of her leg, she kicked him right in the groan.

Batman saw his opening and rushed forward, cuffing Joker in place.

While Batman neutralized him, Y/N stumbled for the knife that Joker had dropped, still not feeling safe and out of danger.

She looked around, realizing that the police had filtered in and apprehended all the escaped prisoners. Some were already locked back into their cells. Other’s were in handcuffs with guns being pointed at them in warning.

“Dr. Y/L/N,” his voice made her whip back around.

How the hell did Batman know her name?

She squinted wearily at him.

“You can drop the knife,” Batman told her quietly.

Y/N blinked and looked down at her hand, having forgotten that she even grabbed the knife. And she now had a vice-like grip on it.

Her hands were shaking when she dropped the knife and the clatter echoed in the hallway.

She eyed the Joker, not trusting any sort of weapon to be in his vicinity, despite being handcuffed now.

“He’s not going anywhere,” Batman noted, as if he could read her mind and hear the concerns she was thinking.

Police officers surrounded them now.

“Until next time, doc!” Joker sang loudly.

Batman stepped between him and Y/N, shielding her from even being seen by the lunatic.

Y/N eyed him, wondering if he did that on purpose.

“This way,” he directed lowly as he led her out of the hallway.

Y/N was surprised when he escorted her all the way out of the building.

Wasn’t this supposed to be Gotham’s Dark Knight? A disappearing act? An urban legend that some people still didn’t believe in?

When they got outside, there were even more officers. The night was flickering blue and red from all the patrol car’s lights still being on.

Commissioner Gordon was having a field day with Arkham’s warden, yelling at him about lack of protocol and no protection for the volunteers and workers that had gotten caught in the crossfire.

But finally, the reality of what just happened was starting to set in for Y/N. And she realized that her entire body was shaking.

All of a sudden, a blanket was wrapped around her shoulders.

She looked up to see that Batman had draped it over her. When and where he’d grabbed it, she had no clue. But the warmth was helping, so she didn’t question it.

“Thank you…for saving me back there.”

Was that a smirk on his lips? Was Batman amused by her?

Why was it so comforting when he was a mere stranger?

And his eyes, even when they were surrounded by a cowl and dark paint, they still felt familiar. Y/N had a similar feeling to deja vu.

“Looked like you had it handled,” he replied.

“Oh, I definitely didn’t. But thank god for those self-defense classes.”

They looked into each other’s eyes for a second.

“Make sure you get checked out by the paramedics,” he told her gently, but insistent.

It was far too gentle for his Batman alter ego. But she caught how it sounded like it personally mattered to him.

Y/N looked behind her, where the ambulance was.

But when she turned back around, Batman was gone.

Next thing Y/N knew, she was being surrounded by two paramedics and Commissioner Gordon who was careful not to push her by asking too many questions at once.

“Does he always do that?” She asked him in a daze.

“Do what?” Gordon asked.

“Disappear like that?”

Gordon smiled and nodded. “Annoying, isn’t it?”

———

“What’s the gossip of the privileged this week?” Bruce asked Alfred at breakfast a few days after the outbreak.

“Something specific you’re looking for, Master Wayne?” Alfred asked as he poured Bruce a big mug of coffee.

Bruce glared at him, knowing he was playing coy with him.

But he put his pride aside. “How is she doing?”

Alfred took pity on him. “She took some time off work. But seems to be handling it better than expected. Makes quite a bit of sense, doesn’t it? Her being psychiatrist and all.”

Bruce just nodded with a dazed look.

“You could always see for yourself…” Alfred added.

Bruce snapped out of his daze and looked up him questioningly.

“You could go see her,” Alfred confirmed.

“Alfred, don’t you start.”

“Start what, Master Wayne? Pushing you to form any sort of relationship?”

Bruce sighed and got up from the breakfast nook. He didn’t want to fight with him, so he’d made his exit before that happened.

“Batman has plenty of friends,” Alfred stopped him. “But what about Bruce Wayne, hmm? Who are his friends?”

“You saying we’re not friends, Alfred?”

“I’m all you’ve got, Master Wayne. And that’s my point.”

Before the discussion could go on any further, the doorbell rang.

The two men shared a look. 

No one stopped by the manor.

Alfred made his way over.

Bruce figured he’d wait where he was. But the front entrance was too far away from him to overhear any conversation.

A few minutes later, Alfred walked in with an unreadable expression.

“Dr. Y/L/N is here, Master Wayne. She is waiting for you in the drawing room.”

Bruce opened his mouth to tell him to make an excuse and get her to leave. But Alfred was already disappearing, making it clear that he would do no such thing for him.

When Bruce walked into the drawing room, he found Y/N’s back to him as she looked at the family heirlooms and trinkets that were displayed on the shelved.

She was dressed casually, which caught Bruce off guard since he’d only see her in formal wear and professional outfits since their reunion. Her hair was in a messy bun and she didn’t appear to be wearing much makeup, if any at all.

“Hi,” he greeted softly, making her quickly turn around.

“Hi,” she replied.

Bruce stepped further into the room. But neither of them moved to sit in any of the many seats that surrounded them.

“I heard what happened. How are you doing?” He asked.

She nodded and shrugged. “Alright.”

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Bruce admitted.

Y/N ignored his comment and her eyes went around the room. “I missed this place,” she thought aloud. Then her eyes fell back to his, softening. “I missed you.”

Bruce was taken aback from her confession. Seeing as the last time they were together, she was rather blunt about how disgusted and disappointed in him she was.

The energy between them felt so different than last time.

To his surprise, Y/N stepped toward him. And she didn’t stop until she was at a proximity that most would call rather intimate.

There was a voice in the back of Bruce’s mind, urging him to close the last bit of distance and place his lips on hers. But he managed to ignore it. That didn’t stop his heart from beating faster, though.

Y/N stared into his eyes for a few seconds, almost like she was searching for something.

“I have something that belongs to you…”

Bruce waited, not sure what she could possibly have to give him.

But then she pulled out one of his batarangs from her coat pocket, offering it to him.

She had found it embedded in the wall when she had gone back down to grab her personal belongings that night. 

Bruce kept his face composed. “I’m not sure I understand.” 

But he grabbed it from her anyways.

“He’s you,” she whispered. “Or I guess…you’re him.”

Bruce let out a breath, “Y/N…”

She took step away from him. “Don’t lie to me, Bruce.”

So he shut his mouth and said nothing instead.

“I’ve been doing some research. Things started lining up,” Y/N explained. “The first Batman sightings were right around when we stopped talking. The more Batman was in the press, the less Bruce Wayne was. And when he was, it was never positive – like it was meant to be a distraction.”

Her eyes went sad. “I never understood how the boy I used to love could grow into the man I’m so disappointed in. It never made sense.” She paused. “But when you wonder if the man himself is the mask, it all fits.”

“I’m sorry.” Bruce hung his head slightly. “I couldn’t tell anyone. Not even you.”

“I’d never share your secret.”

“I know,” he answered instantly.

Y/N couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer. Her eyes welled with tears. “Bruce…living like this has its consequences.”

Bruce said nothing.

She stepped forward and grabbed his hand. “You can’t change the world on your own. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Y/N wasn’t giving him advice. She was offering him something.  

Her trust.

Her secrecy.

Her love.

He shook his head, but gripped her hand tightly. “You would just end up in the shadows with me. And I…I can’t do that to you.”

“I’m stronger than you think,” Y/N defended.

“I’ve always known how strong you are, Y/N.” His jaw tightened at even the thought of being selfish. “You deserve more than what I can give. Gotham will always come first. That’s the sacrifice I made. That’s what is required. I can’t be what you need.”

Y/N studied his face, knowing that there would be no winning with him.

She nodded once, not even slightly hiding her heartbreak and disappointment.

Then she stepped closer and gave him a slow kiss on the cheek.

“It’s not a one time offer, Bruce.”

Bruce couldn’t move a muscle. He was rooted in place.

He heard Y/N have a short conversation with Alfred, then the door closed, and she was gone again.

———

Bruce Wayne was a fool.

Alfred could probably make a list, in seconds, with a hundred reasons why.

But, no, Bruce Wayne was a fool for believing Y/N would give up so easily.

Two weeks later, Y/N was at Wayne Manor again.

Bruce knew something was going on when Alfred didn’t seem surprised in the slightest.

In one of her arms was popcorn seeds, twizzlers, sour patch kids, and chocolate covered pretzels. In the other arm was a case of beer.

Y/N barely said hi to Bruce as Alfred helped her out of her coat and took the things out of her grasp so she was no longer struggling to hold it all.

“I’m here to use your theater,” she announced.

And with that, she walked right past Bruce like she owned the place.

Bruce looked at Alfred and silently asked, ‘What the hell is going on?’

“I believe you have a guest to entertain, Master Wayne.” Then he looked at the items in his hand. “And I believe I have some popcorn to make.”

Bruce still didn’t move.

“You successfully closed yet another case last night, it’s Friday night, and you have a beautiful woman who decided she wants to spend her time with you. Best you don’t keep her waiting, Master Wayne.”

Bruce narrowed his gaze as if telling Alfred they’d discuss this matter at another time.

“I presume you shouldn’t go empty handed,” Alfred added quickly and handed Bruce two beers from the case in his arms.

Bruce chuckled, but started walking away. “I’m surprised you even let this stuff in the house, Alfred.”

When Bruce reached the theater, Y/N had already started a movie.

He watched her a for a moment before she could realize he'd joined her. 

Y/N looked like she belonged there. Even after all this time apart, she just burrowed herself a cozy nook in Bruce’s life.

It was something she had been able to do even when they were kids. When Bruce had his mood swings or his depressive episodes, Y/N didn’t scare. She just found her way to stay at his side without upsetting him further.

Bruce grabbed the seat to the left of hers.

They weren’t really seats, more like small beds. A dozen were placed in the theater.

A couple could easily share one, but Bruce wasn’t planning on even approaching that fine line.

When Bruce sat down, he didn’t look at Y/N. But she gave a shy smile at his joining.

It was a long movie – almost a 3 hour run time.

And Y/N almost made it.

Without only 30 minutes left, Y/N had fallen asleep. Meaning Bruce’s attention was now taken from the movie.

He got up and grabbed one of the many blankets in the trunk hidden in the corner and placed it carefully over her, before silently leaving.

This was not a one time thing.

These type of visits continued.

Bruce knew Y/N and Alfred had to be in cahoots together. 

Y/N seemed to always come to the manor when Bruce needed her most. 

Alfred would force Bruce out of the cave and moments later, the doorbell would be ringing.

On the bad nights, she wouldn’t make him talk. She wouldn’t ask questions or try to make him magically feel better. Sometimes she would talk – mostly about mundane things. She’d tell Bruce about her day or how her neighbor always left baked goods at her door or about the new show she started watching. Sometimes she wouldn’t say anything at all, just sit there silently and make sure he wasn’t alone.

Sometimes she would bring coffee and pastries.

Sometimes Bruce would just walk into the library and find her reading.

Sometimes she would sit and chat with Alfred as if he was the reason she was visiting, and not Bruce.

Bruce couldn’t sleep one night. Nothing specific was causing his insomnia. Just the overall weight of being so many people.

It was 3AM when Y/N texted him to open the door for her because she didn’t want to wake Alfred.

When Bruce did so, Y/N was standing on the other door in sandals and a slightly transparent coverup that barely showed the outline of the bathing suit underneath.

He said nothing, but his face clearly showed that he wanted to know why the hell she was there in the middle of the night.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Y/N told him quietly. Then she shrugged a bit,“I decided I wanted to go for a swim."

Whether she was lying for his benefit, Bruce wasn’t sure. But he followed her to the indoor swimming pool like a sailor would follow a siren.

Without hesitation, Y/N kicked her sandals off and tossed her coverup on the nearest chair. And the next second, she was diving into the pool.

Bruce smirked at her nonchalance, but made sure to hide it when she breached the surface once again.

“Doesn’t your apartment building have its won pool?” He asked.

Y/N smiled and tilted her head back to get her hair wet again and out of her face. “They put too much chlorine in it.”

Bruce crossed his arms, “I see.”

“Coming in?” She asked teasingly.

He shook his head.

“At least keep me company,” she requested.

Bruce glared playfully at her, knowing the game she was playing.

But he finally sighed and nodded.

He was in cotton shorts and a t-shirt. But he decided to sit on the edge of the pool and dip his feet in.

He watched as she swam around, looking as natural in the water as a mermaid. She had always loved swimming as a kid and it appeared not much had changed.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” He finally decided to break the silence.

Y/N swam to him and crossed her arms on the edge of the pool to rest and tilted her head to look at him.

She shrugged, “The usual: stress, nightmares, insomnia, too much caffeine.”

 Bruce’s concern spiked instantly. “Nightmares about what?”

She watched him for a moment, seeing how quickly her subtle comment triggered him.

“You’re not the only person who’s seen fucked up things, Bruce.”

An hour later, Y/N asked for a towel.

When she climbed out, she was taken aback by Bruce wrapping it around her shoulders and rubbing her down gently. It was innocent, but subtly intimate.

As their eyes locked for a prolonged time, and he seemed to realize what he’d done accidentally.

Y/N cleared her throat. “I should head home and let you try to get some sleep.”

“You could stay,” he offered. “I mean, we have plenty of bedrooms here,” he quickly added and saved himself a bit.

“Is that…what you want?” Y/N asked slowly.

Bruce knew what she was trying to ask. He didn’t trust himself to answer the way he should, so he didn’t answer.

“Let me drive you home,” he asked as they left the indoor pool and started toward the front entrance.

Y/N ignored the request until they were at the door. She turned to face him with a smug look, “I’m perfectly capable of driving myself. Thank you.”

She hesitated before kissing him on the cheek. “Get some sleep, Bruce.”

————

Months after Y/N’s visits started, Bruce was doing some research for a case on his tablet as he ate dinner.

“Margaret Caulfield’s engagement party is tonight,” Alfred broke the silence of the manor as he took Bruce’s finished plate.

Bruce looked confused on why he was supposed to care.

“Y/N will be there,” Alfred added.

But Bruce still didn’t understand what he was trying to say.

“Master Wayne, when you attend all those sufferable parties, what is the first question people ask you?”

Bruce thought for a moment. “When I plan on settling down, I guess.”

“Now imagine that, but magnified by about 100…and that is what Y/N’s experience is at those same parties. That young woman is one of the brightest people in Gotham and all those people care about is who will put a silly ring on her finger.”

Bruce leaned back in his chair, now understanding what Alfred was getting at. “I’m not her boyfriend, Alfred.”

“And you’ve made damn sure of that,” Alfred said a little too harshly.

Bruce watched him carefully.

“Y/N has fought off every one of your attempts to be a miserable recluse.”

Bruce opened his mouth.

“And don’t you dare try and tell me her efforts are wasted,” Alfred cut him off. “I’ve seen a change in you. And she has asked for absolutely nothing in return. She’d never ask you to pick her over Batman. Though she bloody well should!”

He wasn’t done.

“You’re not living, Master Wayne. And I won’t apologize for wanting more for you.”

Bruce just sat there and took it.

Alfred took in a breath, calming himself down. “There’s a suit waiting for you in your bedroom. I’ve decided I’m going for a evening walk.”

——————

Y/N didn’t know how many more champagnes she’d have to shrug to start feeling the buzz she so desperately needed.

Not even an hour of being at the party and she’s already been asked 15 times if she was seeing anyone. And when she answered no, half of those ended in them trying to set her up with someone.

As Y/N was trying to think of an excuse to escape, an old family friend approached her – a friend of her grandma’s unfortunately.

“Y/N, dear, let me see those hands!”

Y/N wanted to roll her eyes and snap, but she did as requested.

“No ring yet,” the woman teased, but she was also genuinely disappointed.

“That would be my fault, actually.” A voice said behind Y/N before she felt a hand on her lower back.

“Oh, Mr. Wayne, how nice of you to come!” The woman beamed. “Now, Y/N, why wouldn’t you tell anyone that you and Bruce are an item?”

“My fault again,” Bruce chuckled, “I’ve always enjoyed a good secret.”

Before she could ask more, Bruce smiled politely. “If you could excuse us for a moment.”

He steered Y/N to a private area of the party.

“What are you doing?” Y/N hissed at him. “The press are gonna have a field day. You and I will be every headline tomorrow.”

He smiled at her frantic concern.

“Why are you looking at me like that? I’m serious!”

Bruce captured her lips, silencing any further panic from her.

Y/N was completely caught off guard, but he wasn’t letting her go so easily. And soon, her hand went to the back of his head and she kissed him back. 

Damn all the people who were probably watching them.

When Bruce finally let her pull away, he smirked at her dazed look and cupped her cheek. 

She matched his smirk.

But then reality set in like a splash of cold water and she frowned.

“Am I – Is this your new cover?” She asked shakily, so scared that the answer was ‘yes.’

She could tolerate being Bruce’s friend for the rest of her life. But she wouldn’t survive being used in such a way. She couldn’t live in a fake relationship with a man she actually loved. She’d rather watch his sloppy persona with girls hanging off of him.

“No cover-up,” he muttered to her. “Just me and you – the real me.”

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

I worked so hard on this ��  Please let me know your thoughts. 

#bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #batman reader insert #alfred pennyworth #alfred pennyworth & reader #batman fic #batman universe #dc #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne reader insert #batfam #batboys #batman x you #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne angst #batman angst

[teddy06writes]

the quackity + karl irl stream but add y/n ✨ (and maybe sapnap if that's not too hard to write 😳😳)

quackity x karl x reader (I tried to Fit in Sapnap but it didn’t work with the way the meet up actually went)

trigger warnings: swearing

premise: you finally get to meet your long distance boyfriends in person, the stream that follows is WACK

(y/s/n) - your screen name

(y/n/n) - your nickname

“Blep” talking

‘blep’ texting

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

“WE’RE POPPING OFF! WE’RE POPPIN OFF!”

You roared with laughter, doing your best to stay out of the way as Alex and Karl started swinging guitars around.

~~

two and a half hours earlier:

You had gotten off the plane in NC, practically buzzing with nervous energy, or maybe it was the coffee you’d gotten on the plane, combined with the two energy drinks earlier in the day, but hey! it was a long flight, and it was already late.

It was nearly 10:30 by the time you got your bag, and pulled out your phone to check the new messages from Karl and Alex.

You had all planed to meet up originally at Karl’s house but then plans had changed when you and Alex figured it’d be cheaper to uber together, even if it ruined the plan of all of you meeting at once.

‘I just got my bag where are you?’ you texted Alex.

‘I only just got off the plane, I should get down to baggage claim soon tho’

You smiled, ‘I’ll see you them <3′

‘nerd’         ‘<3′

You stood against a wall, quietly scrolling through twitter as you waited, until a new message from Alex popped up.

It was a fairly blurry photo of a crowded airport, with a red circle drawn around one person.

‘that is you right?’

You chuckled, zooming in on the picture to determine that is was indeed you, ‘yup, that’s little ole me... stalker’

You looked up as you sent the text, rising on your toes to look over the crowd, trying to spot him, pulling out your camera you quietly explained what was going on and then:

“(Y/n)!” Alex emerged from the crowd, and immediately you grinned, throwing your arms around him.

“Alex!”

You pulled away long enough for Alex to ask, “Can I kiss you?”

Laughing you nodded, and his lips met yours, as your hands came to rest on the sides of his face.

When you pulled away Alex muttered, “wow.”

“That bad? Sorry.” You glanced down sheepishly.

“Not that-” he said quickly, taking a half step back, “It’s just- wow, you know. Like, we’re actually here together, and about to go meet up with Karl, and wow.”

You chuckled, “I guess that makes sense.”

He garbed your hand, “C’mon, I already called an uber.”

~~

The whole way to Karl’s you sat nervously fiddling the cuffs of your hoodie, occasionally glancing at Alex, who smiled back reassuringly.

You sent a message to the group chat the three of you were in saying you would be there in two minutes at which he sent back a long string of emojis you could only take to mean that he was excited.

The car pulled up in front of the house and you got out, thanking the driver as Alex got your suitcases from the back.

Quietly you pulled out your camera, just as you had at the airport.

“Why are you filming everything?” Alex asked as you walked up to the house.

“We’re gonna do what George could never.” You laughed.

“Yeah but the lightings gonna be shit, it’s dark out here.”

“It’ll still be better than George!”

Alex laughed, high fiving you, “True!”

Almost as soon as you knocked, the door opened and Karl came barreling out, tackling both of you in a hug, “YOUR HERE!”

Alex barley kept him from falling over, “Yeah!”

“It’s almost like we planned it.” You couldn’t help but scoff at the camera.

Karl grinned, quickly pecking at your lips, and then Alex’s as he let go of you, “I am so excited that you guys are here!”

“Woah Karl where's the consent?!” Alex feigned shock.

“Oops?” He giggled.

You rolled your eyes with a chuckle, “Can we come in? It’s cold out here!”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, come in, come in!” Karl quickly moved back inside, waving you and Alex in, “Sorry.”

~~

After getting your suitcases inside and being formally introduced to Shaun, Karl all but demanded for you to take pictures together, resulting in many shots that were blurry from too much laughter, but a few good ones, like the picture with the boys on either side of you, kissing your cheeks, which later went up on Instagram, and a picture of Karl, mid laugh looking back at you up on Alex’s back.

All of your previous anxiety was very much gone.

You laughed, looking at Karl’s phone as he showed the picture, “Oh my god!”

“That is amazing!” Alex agreed, leaning over you to look.

“It’s gonna be the stream announcement!” Karl declared, pulling up twitter.

You glanced at your phone, “Karl it’s almost one in the morning, no one would show up to a stream.”

Karl laughed, “You seriously underestimate the fans.”

The next thing you knew you were up upstairs, sitting off to the side of Karl’s streaming set up as Alex grabbed the guitar from the corner, “Karl you don’t even actually play, why do you have this?”

“Because I can?” He said absently, starting to set up for a stream.

The air was thick with excitement as Karl hit ‘go live’, and handed you and Alex extra sets of headphones.

Alex was still messing with the guitar, and you barley stifled laughs as he began to sing Country roads in a strange accent, and the chat filled with people.

“It’s pop off time!” Karl announced in a high pitched voice, making you laugh even more.

The face cam was turned on, and the yelling began.

After a few moments, and a couple more terrible bars of country roads, Karl grinned, “Everyone! This is, Quackity, our, uh, our guitarist for the day!”

Alex laughed, “We’re poppin off! We’re poppin off!”

“And (y/s/n)s here too!” Karl dragged your chair further in frame, “Welcome! Welcome!”

“It’s pop off central tonight boys!” You chuckled.

The alert box went insane as did the chat as Alex finally sat down next to you, and Karl stopped laughing enough to sit back up.

“Guys! Chill! You’re gonna break the alert box!”

You laughed again, “Yeah just tell your chat to stop, just knock it off, leave we’re done!”

Alex snorted, “It’s over!”

Karl pulled his chair closer to the desk, “Thanks for uh, being here, with the boys, uhh.”

He turned to Alex who was now essentially just spamming random chords, yelling, “I can’t hear you!”

You berried your face in your hands, trying to control your laughter.

Karl sighed and pulled his headphones off, “You know what? I’ll be right back, I’ll be right back.”

You immediately hopped seats as he left, “Hello chat! Hello!”

Alex leaned over, trying to grab the mic to pull it towards him, “hell-” part of the stand snapped, “Oh my god!”

“Oh my god you fucking broke it!” You yelled, pushing away from the desk.

“Oh god, hold on!”

He did his best to fix it, leaning in to talk to the chat, while Karl came back with another guitar.

“Why do you have two of them?” You laughed.

Karl grinned, “Technically it’s Shaun's!”

“OH WE”RE POPPING OFF! WE”RE POPPING OFF!”

You roared with laughter, quickly moving back out of the way as Karl jokingly swung the guitar at Alex.

Once you calmed down you caught a glimpse of the chat, “Guys I think you fucked something up!”

“Oh god!” Alex muttered.

“Wait- hold on- did-” Karl examined the mic, “Wait its unplugged!”

It took a few minutes to get things sorted out, and as Karl and Alex went back to yelling about popping off you spun around in your desk chair, “Pop off crew! Pop off crew!”

Things settled down again when you moved your chair back to between them, a sub goal was set for a height check, and you started to try and get things some what orderly.

“So yeah this isn’t just a Minecraft stream, I think we’re just hanging out, Popping off, you know, we’re gonna talk to chat-”

Karl began to laugh, and Alex tried not to chuckle as he said, “He’s laughing at you (y/n) he’s just laughing at you! What are you gonna do about it?”

“Listen man, I’m trying to get your fucking stream in order. If you just wanna fucking ignore me then fine!” You held your hands up in surrender.

“Well, I mean-”

Karl started to stand up, and you knew he was going for the fit check but Alex screeched, shoving his chair back, “Fuck off!”

“Wha?”

You laughed, “He thought you were going for the Hight check early man!”

“Dude it’s the fit check!”

Alex laughed as Karl sat back down, “Holy shit- cash app with the hundred tear ones!”

You giggled at the message, “They wanna see the height check! Who wants to see the height check? Who wants to see the height check chat?”

“No no no no! No height check early! It- it doesn’t matter, cause height is stupid, and a choice!” Alex struggled for words.

You shook your head whispering, “He just looks short next to Karl and he’s scared.”

“Shut up!”

~~

A while later, after both Karl and Alex’s stream descended into chaos or partial chaos, you found yourself tucked between them on the couch.

Karl’s fingers were intertwined with yours, and Alex’s head lay on your shoulder.

“I’m glad to have finally met you guys.” You murmured.

“Yeah,” Alex hummed, “Actually being able to cuddle is much better than the online thing.”

Karl hummed in agreement, “I wish you guys could be here all the time.”

“Let’s get a house somewhere.” You mused.

“Somewhere convenient for you two nerds to go to school.” Karl chuckled.

Alex yawned, “Somewhere near good take out.”

You smiled sleepily, “Anywhere with you guys is fine by me.”

Distantly a clock on the wall read 4:23 am.

#mcyt x reader #mcyt imagines #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs imagines #quackity x reader #quackity imagines #karl jacobs x quackity x reader #poly #teddy06 writes

[blu-joons]

Your Relationship Is Revealed After You Breakup ~ BTS Reaction

Jin:

Your heart pounded as you heard Jin’s voice on the other end of the line for the first time in weeks, staring down at the article that you had in front on me. “I can’t believe you sold a story on me Jin, what’s wrong with you?”

“It’s not like they tried to make out,” he quickly tried to defend, “they had the photo already, if I didn’t comment, they were going to publish regardless.”

You let go of a heavy sigh, “they’ve painted me out like some sort of monster, when we’re not even together anymore. I’ve had to deactivate everything, I’m not even at my house anymore Jin.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, running a hand through his hair. “I promise that I’m going to try and find a way to fix this, this isn’t fair on you when we’re not together.”

“How can you ever put this right Jin?”

You could hear him groan on the other end of the line, “just trust me, I’ll make a statement, shout from the rooftops, whatever it takes. I still think that you’re an incredible person Y/N.”

“Do you really think that’s enough for your fans to listen?”

“I’ll make sure that it’s enough to keep you safe.”

Yoongi:

Words failed you as you read through the statement that had been put out by his company to announce that the two of you had broke up. “We never made anything to say we were together,” you told your friend beside you.

“But if they’ve put out one to confirm a breakup, surely you have,” she tried to understand, “are you sure you’ve forgotten about it now, you’ve broken up?”

Your head shook instantly, you remembered exactly what you agreed. “I don’t know if he’s trying to play a game or what, but now everyone knows, and it’s not like we’re even together anymore.”

Call me,” she encouraged, “or the company, whoever it takes,” she added, passing her phone across to you. “You can’t let your name be dragged through the mud.”

“It’s a little too late for that.”

Her head shook, placing your free hand over the phone too. “It’s hard but call him. He’s got a lot of explaining to do if this has even the slightest bit to do with him Y/N, I’ll get him.”

“And what if this has absolutely nothing to do with Yoongi?”

“Then someone else will be explaining instead.”

Hoseok:

When your friend text you to turn on SBS, you instantly had a funny feeling on your tummy, noticing that a BTS interview was on the screen. “Hobi, we understand you had something that you wanted to say,” the interviewer smiled.

“It might come as a surprise to some, but I want to publicly apologise to Y/N,” he spoke, staring directly down the barrel of the camera. “I hope she’s watching.”

Your head shook in slight disbelief as Hobi began to tell you specifically about how regretful he was about how he ended things with you. “Why are you doing this?” You whispered to the screen.

“Sorry won’t do the trick, but I hope by speaking about this here, it will help you to realise just how regretful I am,” he continued, smiling weakly at the screen.

“Do your fans know about Y/N at all Hobi?”

His head shook, “we always kept things private, that was one of the reasons why we ended, but now that I’ve lost her, I want to scream it from the rooftops that I want her back in my life.”

“Well, let’s hope that she’s watching this and listening then.”

“Oh, I’m most definitely listening to you Hobi.”

Namjoon:

Once you finally opened the door, you quickly tried to shut it, but a foot in your doorway prevented you from being able to slam it. “Don’t just shut me out, this hurts me just as much as it’s hurt you that they know.”

“They know because of you Namjoon,” you vented, “who talks about their ex on a live stream, you have no idea how hurt I am about all of this.”

His hand brushed through his hair, scuffing his feet against the ground. “Sorry probably isn’t enough right now, but I thought coming here face to face would prove that I want to make things right Y/N.”

“Why were you even talking about me?” You questioned him, “why haven’t you just forgotten about me like you told me you would when you broke up with me?”

“Because it’s not as easy as that Y/N.”

Your eyes rolled across at him, “well, you’ve certainly made that obvious Namjoon. I don’t know what you get from coming here, but please just leave me alone for a while, I need it.”

“Just tell me that you at least accept my apology Y/N?”

“Right now, I don’t know if I do or not.”

Jimin:

As soon as you saw Jimin’s name come up on your screen, you picked up the phone, hearing a commotion in the background. “Y/N, I’m so glad you picked up. There’s been a terrible mistake that I need to tell you about.”

“You mean where your company accidentally posted a photo of us?” You asked him, “it’s already been posted, and sent to me thousands of times.”

You heard a loud groan come from him as he realised it was too late. “Look, I know we’re not together, but is there any way I can meet up with you so that we can talk about this properly?”

“What’s there to say?” You challenged him, “your company messed up, and so have you. Seeing you will only make things worse; I need to make sure I lay low for now.”

“I want to help Y/N and try and fix things.”

Your head shook as tears threatened to spill. “The damage is done Jimin, and it’s all down to you. You broke up with me, so let me stand on my own two feet. And have a word with your bosses too.”

“I hope that you know just how sorry I am about this.”

“I’m just sorry now that I ever got with you.”

Taehyung:

Your eyes widened as your friend stormed into your bedroom, throwing a magazine down on your bed. As you looked down, you noticed that Taehyung was the front page, and you, the tagline. “He’s spilled everything.”

“Why?” You stuttered, slowly turning the pages to see what he had to say. “Why has he chosen to bring up my name now Y/F/N?”

Her shoulders shrugged, sitting down beside you on your bed. “I don’t get what his game is, or what he wants to achieve. The fans never knew you, and now there’s millions who do know you.”

“What do I do?” You asked her, “it’s not like I can ask Taehyung to help me anymore, he’s thrown me into the sharks, so how can I possibly bite back now?”

“Release your own statement and tell the truth.”

Your head shook back at her, “no one will believe me if I start bashing him. It’ll just make things worse, he always warned me about his fan base, and now he’s told them all about me.”

“We can’t let him get away with this Y/N, we’ll do something.”

“I just don’t know what the answer is.”

Jungkook:

You let go of a groan as your phone rang yet again, reluctantly answering it without checking who was on the other line. “Jungkook, when will you get the message that I don’t want to talk to you?” You snapped down the phone.

“It’s me Y/N,” you heard a different voice responded, recognising Taehyung instantly. “He’s as gutted as you are about this Y/N.”

Your head shook, refusing to believe him. “If he’s gutted, why has our relationship been made public when we’re not together anymore. How does he even plan on resolving this Taehyung?”

“We don’t know how it got out,” he continued to tell you, “but we’re trying to find the solution. Jungkook is heartbroken, please don’t take this out on him.

“Who else is to blame? Who else knew about us?”

He frowned softly, “I wish I had the answers, but you know that we all love you, and all still want the best for you. We’d never do anything like this to intentionally hurt you Y/N.”

“Just tell Jungkook to sort it out, and not contact me again.”

“If that’s what you want, I’ll pass it on.”

---

Masterlist

#bts #bts imagine #bts scenario #bts reaction #bts reactions #bts scenarios #jin imagine #yoongi imagine #hoseok imagine #namjoon imagine #jimin imagine #taehyung imagine #jungkook imagine #jin #yoongi #hoseok #namjoon #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #bts drabble #bts one shot #bts fluff #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #kpop #kpop imagine

[wonderful-wells-writing]

Fanclub; Chapter 1

EoWells x Reader

Some of the STAR Labs employees have a secret fanclub where they discuss Harrison Wells and share pictures they take when they think he isn't looking. Problem is it's not quite as secret as they think it is. The man himself seems to have taken an interest in the the little group, finding it to be the perfect place to find willing partners to satisfy his needs. And you're his next pick.

Work is dying down for the evening at STAR Labs. Chemists are checking that all the storage units are set to the proper temperatures. Engineers are making sure that everything that needs to be powered down is. Lab techs are cleaning up their stations. But nearly everybody is discussing their plans for the weekend.

There is one worker who is not engaging in such conversations. You are currently crammed between two sections of machinery, determined to get this wiring finished before leaving for the day. That way, Monday, bright and early your team can start doing test runs.

You are not engaging in conversation with others but rather are talking to yourself as you work. “Some red over here, blue wire over there.” Your grin would light up the room if anybody could see it. “I just love when a color-coded array comes together.” There’s a buzz on your right butt-cheek, and you squeal in surprise.

“Everything alright in there?” One of the other scientists looks up from the desk.

“Yeah, Bri,” you extract yourself from the machine parts. “My phone just went off, and I thought something shocked me.”

“Girl, I can not tell you how often that happens to me,” Bri takes her purse from a drawer and a jacket off the chair. “So, what are your plans for the weekend. More number crunching?”

You pull your phone from your back pocket. “Actually my college roommate is having a bachelorette party tonight. So I said I would swing by the bar for a bit.”

“Sounds fun,” Bri gives a wave before heading to the door. “Don’t party too hard.”

She returns the wave before opening a group chat app on her phone to see what the notification is about.

KittyCat42; O.M.G did you see Dr. Wells today? a shirt THAT tight can not be workplace appropriate!!!

Attached is a photo taken from a smartphone at an angle in which the subject does not seem to be aware their picture is being taken. Dr. Harrison Wells is leaning over a desk, examining something on a monitor. Kitty is right; his shirt is very tight, his biceps bulge through the long black sleeves.

You grin, considering sending a reply, but another message comes in first.

YummyBitch73; Think he’s got plans? Looking that good, he’s got to be going out tonight.

Your thumbs move across the screen to type a quick response.

BabyDoll14; Maybe he has a date tonight?

KittyCat42; wonder who the lucky girl is?

You lean against a nearby workbench, smirking at the screen.

---

On the other side of the lab, somebody picks up their phone to check the barrage of notifications coming in. They chuckle before adding their own two cents.

Speedy22: Hey, who knows, it could be a lucky guy.

YummyBitch73: Oh you wish, he is a lady killer through and through

BabyDoll14: I mean, who are we to judge if it’s a lucky lady or gent. Maybe he swings one way, maybe he swings both ways. Who cares, we’re just here to talk about his ass behind his back.

“Speedy’ nods, almost respecting the woman on the other side of the screen for staying objective about objectifying her boss.

Speedy22: Speaking of ass, I got this one yesterday

He opens his gallery and scrolls until an ‘appropriate picture is found. A nice shot of Dr. Wells from behind; the quality is incredible for a smartphone shot. The man’s shirt is riding up, showing a nice strip of the skin of his back, even a bit of where his boxers rise above the waistband of his hands.

YummyBitch73: Damn Speedy, you always get the good ones. You’ll have to teach me some photography lessons sometime.

KittyCat42: what kind of camera are you using? The quality is so gooooood.

“Hey,” a woman’s voice draws his attention away from his device. “Are you staying late again tonight?”

Harrison Wells takes a breath to look her up and down, mentally running through his mind all the employees to try and remember who it is at his office door. “I’ll be headed out soon; I just have to wrap some things up.”

He recalls who she is when he sees the look she’s giving him. Brianna Masters, a specialist working down in Lab C. She would have had to go out of her way to get to his office before leaving. Self-proclaimed president of the Dr. Wells Fanclub, he had just been interacting with the group chat of; after the former president left with a job offer at Mercury Labs. She had been making goo-goo eyes at him since her interview three months ago.

“Well,” Bri twirls a curl of her hair, fluttering her eyelashes. “Harrison, you know I was wondering if you might like to take me out to get some drinks tonight?”

Dr. Wells tries to hide his displeasure at the thought. She wasn’t his type, physically, mentally, emotionally, “I have plans in the morning that require a clear head. Miss. Masters. Now is there anything of importance that you need?” The man was not adverse to flights of fancy to pass the time; he wouldn’t be keeping an eye on the little Fanclub of his if he wasn’t willing to look for ‘interested parties,’ but this particular woman has been of no real interest to him.

For reasons such as how she pouts at his response, “Well, having fun is important.” She mutters before wandering off down the hall, turning her attention to her phone.

YummyBitch73; holy Shit! He just asked me out for drinks. It sucks so much that I have to drive out to Coast City; I”d have taken him up in a heartbeat otherwise.

----

Back in Lab C, you finally finish with the maintenance on the machine. You check your phone once more while heading over to the desk and nearly cackle at what you’re reading. Everybody knows that Bri is full of shit, but there’s no point in calling it out and causing discourse.

You mute the phone to focus on your computer. While humming a quiet tune, you work on moving files to the USB stick plugged into the monitor.

“Fuck,” you whisper, seeing the download time in comparison to the clock on the screen. Of course, you could just leave it be, take the weekend off. It’s not like you get paid extra to run calculations at home.

17 minutes later

“Nonononono, wait, please!” You’re half running to the street as the bus pulls away, leaving you in the illuminated circle of a streetlamp, cursing yourself. That was going to be the last bus coming this way for the night. If you walk home, you’ll never make it in time to change for the party. You might not even make the event at all. You pace up and down the sidewalk, contemplating your options.

A car pulls up beside you, tinted window rolling down, “Need a lift?”

You stop, shocked, “Oh, no I…” you pause, looking through the window, “Dr. Wells, hi...hey.” You swallow your pride. “I would really love to get a ride on-with, with you.” Internally you cringe at how that came out, but figure he probably wouldn’t have heard such a minor slip.

The lock clicks open, and you reach for the door.

“Maple Apartments on South 11th street, right?” Harrison glances at you as you get in the car.

You pause before shutting the door, “do I want to know how you know that?”

He laughs, and you jump a bit at it, “I can see how that would sound a little suspicious.” His smile is reassuring, and his blue eyes are kind behind his glasses. “It was on your registration forms when you started. I enter new employee data myself. Total recall can be useful even for small matters.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, shutting the door and buckling in. “I really appreciate this Dr. Wells, I would have been so late tonight if I didn’t get home to change soon.”

“Bit plans tonight?” Harrison asks as he starts driving. Truth is he had suspected you’d be missing her bus. He had seen you running after the last bus or driven past you walking home numerous times out his way out. You had quite the habit of working until the absolute last moment.

You smile, twiddling your thumbs to keep your hands occupied. “Yeah, I’m meeting a friend at the new bar that opened down the street from my place. She’s getting married soon, and since I can’t make the wedding, I promised I would spend at least a couple hours at her bachelorette party.” You aren’t exactly sure why you’re volunteering this information to your boss. It would be inappropriate to be so casual with him; then again, it’s also inappropriate to be part of a Fanclub that secretly takes pictures of him and talks about how great his ass looks.

Harrison ‘hmms’ in thought. “Why can’t you make it to the wedding?” He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, taking a moment to take in the way you sit, act, look, before returning his eyes to the road.

“Oh, they scheduled it for a Wednesday, so,” you look towards him just moments after he looks away. The first thing you notice is his hair; whenever you’ve seen him in the morning, it’s perfectly combed and straight, but it seems like as the day went on, it began to take on a life of its own. While the back is still nice and neat, the front is sticking out in all kinds of directions.

“You could have asked for the day off,” Dr. Wells offers, “Am I such a terrible boss that you think I”d deny you some vacation after all your hard work?”

You feel a heat rise to your cheeks at what seems to be a compliment to her work ethic, “Oh no, I don’t think that at all. It’s just that, well, we have so much work to do. Every day we get a little closer to your dreams of the particle accelerator, and I want to contribute absolutely everything I can to that dream.” You smile. “You’re going to do such incredible things for the world of science Dr. Wells, and I don’t want to waste any time that could be spent helping you.”

The man is somewhat stunned by this. He’d attributed her long hours and determination to personal ambition. “What about you? Do you want history to remember you for your achievements?”

You bite your lower lip in thought at the question, “I mean sure, it would be nice to be recognized for my contribution, but,” she takes a deep breath, “I’m more concerned about how my work will impact the world, not so much if I’m remembered for it. Anyways you’re the true genius. I can tell that STAR Labs will make big changes and put humanity on a path towards the future. As long as I get to be a part of that, it’s all I really need.”

Harrison does a low chuckle at your sentiment, amused by the naivety. You speak with such hope and wonder and admiration. If you knew the truth, how horrified would you be? The realization of the end goal of the particle accelerator, the effects across history that your determination would wreak.

He grins, “Well, I am glad to have such a dedicated employee, but I do believe that one off day is not going to hurt our progress.”

You purse your lips, “You don’t come down to Lab C very often; you’d be surprised how off the rails things can go when I’m not there. Anyways I would rather work than go to a wedding. It’s not my kind of scene.”

He can sense that you are holding something back but doesn’t press the issue any further. He’s reached your apartment building anyways.

“If you change your mind, I’ll be more than happy to give you the time off,” he says as he parks.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you reach for the door handle, “oh, and thank you so much for the ride. I really owe you one.”

Dr. Wells makes a mental note about cashing in that favor later. “You just stay safe and enjoy yourself tonight.” He smiles warmly at you as you wave goodbye, but when the door shuts, his grin turns a bit darker. He watches you walk away, eyes tracing the curve of your figure, resting on the beautiful shape of your rear, right up until you disappear into your building.

As he begins to drive away, he catches sight of himself in the rearview mirror. There is something about this form of his that seems to drive the ladies crazy, and he wasn’t opposed to taking advantage of that. While pulling back into the street and driving away, he thinks on his situation.

For 13 years now, Eobard Thawne has been trapped in this god-forsaken time period. For a while, he had focused solely on his mission, rarely interacting with others unless it served a greater purpose. But he was still a man, subject to desire. At first, it was almost enough to make him regret allowing Harrison Well’s wife to die, she could have filled his needs easily. But that woman had been intelligent; she’d have discovered his identity eventually, so allowing her to die had been for the best.

Still, after a few years of isolation, Thawne had found the need unbearable and began seeing ways to fill the hole that was forming in his chest. Little flings, one-off nights where he indulged his carnal side, allowed himself the pleasure of another’s body before quickly parting ways with them, when he discovered that a fanclub devoted to him had been formed amongst his employees, that made the whole thing easier.

Joining the group chat under a false name was easy enough. It inflated his ego every time he read them discussing how great they thought he looked, and he was more than happy to provide material for them to gush over. And with that, it was like he had been given a list of women who would fuck him with no questions asked. All he had to do was choose. Of course, he has to be wary of those who might get too clingy or go off telling other people. But it’s not that hard to week those types out of the pack.

Thawne notices magenta neon as he’s driving. A club with a grand opening sign out front. He smiles, knowing that now not only does he have a new prey lure in, but the perfect hunting ground as well.

#eowells x reader #eowells fanfiction #harrison wells x reader #harrison wells fanfiction #eowells #harrison wells #jade writes

[remuswriting]

interviews; o. tooru

Summary: Oikawa leaves a terrible first impression on Y/N, Seijoh’s newspaper editor, when the volleyball team gets to be featured in the paper.

Pairing: Tooru Oikawa x Male! Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 5,043

Notes: I have worked on a newspaper and had to do so many interviews, and Oikawa’s magazine interview annoys me.  I wonder if it was him or the interviewers, which is what created this.  Two things; my journalism writing is rusty and I’m not the best at writing Oikawa, sorry.

The Newspaper Club was a club that many people avoided because of its dictator editor L/N Y/N. This didn’t stop anyone from reading it, because all the stories were actually really well done and extremely interesting, and the editor had changed the formatting into a magazine style. Since L/N had become editor, the magazine expanded into different categories and had weekly polls to see what people wanted to see more of and what they wanted to see less of.

“Everyone wants to see an article about the boys’ volleyball team, L/N,” Sakura, a first year who wrote for lifestyle, said as she brought the polls up to the editor.  He sighed and his face fell into his hands.

“I’ll have to interview that brat Oikawa,” the editor groaned, and the first year didn’t understand why that was a problem because it was Oikawa Tooru. “He is the worst at interviews.  Or maybe those who have interviewed him don’t understand how to actually ask questions.”

Masaru, the head of the editorial section of the paper, walked over to move Sakura farther from the h/c haired boy.  The ginger girl got the cue and walked back over to her desk to start working on some articles.  The brunette boy next to his friend wanted to complain with his friend, because in a journalism perspective; Oikawa was annoying to deal with.

“What if I just interview Iwaizumi?” Y/N asked as he looked up at the other, eyes glimmering at the new idea before he dropped his face again. “But Oikawa would just complain that he isn’t getting any attention.”

“L/N you could always just have someone else write the story,” Masaru said, only for the h/c boy to scream into his own hands, which made all of the club members look over at the two.

“I’m the sportswriter; it has to be me.  Also, I’m the only one who understands volleyball shit in here.”

“Oh yeah, your older brother played volleyball, right?” Masaru asked, and the club members went back to what they were doing when they noticed that their editor wasn’t going to have a breakdown.

The h/c haired boy placed the right side of his face to the side of the desk, looking up at the other with his pretty e/c eyes.  Aobajohsai’s newspaper editor was pretty and if he wasn’t so aggressive and so in your face, more people would see how pretty he was.  Masaru had to see it too much, and sometimes it was hard to talk to his friend when he looked cute.

“I’ll talk to their coach tomorrow to go to their practice to take photos and interview Oikawa, as well as some of the other members,” Y/N said, and Masaru realized it had been quiet between them for a few minutes.  He also realized the editor didn’t answer his question. “So, you’ll have to hold down the fort here, even though everyone works independently.”

“Okay.” He hand ran through L/N’s hair to calm him if he needed to be calmed anymore. “Get to work now, Mr. Editor.  We’re all carrying your slack.”

“You really piss me off sometimes.”

 *****

 Although the boys’ volleyball coach agreed to Y/N doing things for the magazine, he was faced with how he was supposed to do all of this.  He had done the majority of the other sports clubs, but this one had Oikawa Toru, aka the guy who had been in magazines before, which made him have so many fangirls.  If the h/c haired boy even barely messed up on this, then all those girls would come after him ready to kill.

L/N walked to the gym with his bag full of things he needed when doing articles and interviews.  Masaru had once said he looked ridiculous, but Masaru rarely did interviews so Y/N never took anything he said to heart. The squeaky shoes in the gym rang out to where the editor could hear them clear as day practicing.  Or about to practice.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t watched on their matches, whether it was practice or official.  Y/N really did love volleyball, but not in the way to join a team or actually learn how to do anything in it.  The h/c haired boy just enjoyed watching it and how sometimes he could even feel the adrenaline radiating off the court.

“N/N-chan is here!” Oikawa called out, and the editor wanted to strangle the other for the stupid nickname. Their coach looked over at the third year writer and stood up from where he was seated.

“Okay, everyone,” the coach said, all players immediately looking over to him. “L/N is going to interview Oikawa and maybe a couple others but everyone else is to practicing while he does so.”

“I’ll also be taking some photos while you practice,” Y/N said, making the boys look over to him now. “It’ll be like I’m not here.  Tomorrow I’ll be taking what’ll look like professional pictures of you all.  You’ll be wearing your uniforms and it shouldn’t take maybe 20 to 30 minutes.”

“What’s this for?” Kindaichi asked, and the h/c haired boy smiled slightly.

“You guys get to be in the magazine this issue.  You only have to deal with me for two days, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Everyone nodded before they went off to practice, leaving Oikawa and L/N alone for the interview.  The brunette setter smirked at the other, obviously trying to be flirty and the other just stared at him confused before he pulled his bag out in front of him.

He grabbed his notebook, pen, and tape recorder.  A lot of members of the newspaper club usually used their phones, but the editor hated using up storage on his device.  He usually put photos on there that the magazine occasionally used but took most photos on the club’s camera.

“Is it okay if I record this?” Y/N asked as he looked up at the other, who was only looking him over.

“Of course, you can record anything we ever do, baby,” Oikawa said, and Y/N forced a smile instead of punching the other.  It was just an interview.

“Great, now we need to get somewhere I can sit, so I can write easier.  We don’t want to mess up anything in the team’s article.”

“You’re free to sit on my lap.”

Y/N closed his eyes as he bit into his, wanting to scream.  All he wanted to do was write this article and the boy in front of him was ready to make it far too difficult for him to do so.  So, he chanted in his head that it was just an interview and it would be over soon.

“No thank you.” He sat in the floor and placed the recorder next to him and motioned for the other to sit on the floor with him. “It won’t pick up your voice that well, sit down.” The setter sat in the floor annoyed and sighed. “Okay, let’s get started; what got you into volleyball?”

Oikawa looked like he was actually thinking of an answer, which gave the editor some hope that all of those interviews he had previously done had been full of stupid questions. Sadly, that wasn’t the case.

“Sports uniforms attract cute guys like you,” he said, and Y/N gave him another forced smile.

“We’ll come back to that question when you can think of something better than that.” He placed a star next to the first question, so he’d remember that answer was garbage. “Why did you pick Aobajohsai?”

“It’s close to home, and it also has you,” Oikawa responded as he placed his hands on the floor and leaned back on them.

Another star next the question.

“What’s your favorite part of volleyball?”

“It led me to meet you,” the setter responded and the editor slammed his notebook into the ground in between them.

“Are you serious?” Y/N asked, annoyance in his voice, and the setter nodded. “Is this interview a fucking joke to you?  I’m taking time out my day that I could be editing articles that people actually worked on, and your responses are this?  Maybe Iwaizumi-san would be a better person to interview for this and say we only wanted to focus on vice-captain instead of both of you.”

Oikawa looked at the other a little freaked out.  He had never spoken to the other but he had always found him incredibly attractive and had seen how compassionate he had been towards others.  Maybe the rumor of L/N being a dictator was right, even if the third year hadn’t believed it until now.

“I’m sorry,” Oikawa mumbled before speaking up. “I’m used to questions like what I want in a girl and my favorite color.”

“Okay, just please actually try to answer these,” Y/N said before he let out a deep breath. “What got you into volleyball?”

“I went and saw an exhibition match between Argentina and Japan in Sendai with Iwaizumi when I was in elementary school,” Oikawa started, and Y/N was trying to write and fully comprehend what he was saying at the same time. “When Argentina put Blanco in, he just made everything work, you know?  He brought balance back to the team.”

“Blanco is a really good player,” Y/N said with a smile, and the setter looked at him confused.  Most people didn’t know who he was talking about usually. “Do you want to bring balance to your team?  Make everything work?”

Oikawa smiled slightly at the thought of being like the man who inspired him.

“Yeah, I really do.” He lifted a hand to scratch the back of his neck. “Setters are the ones who can restore balance to their teams if they do everything right, and I hope I’m doing that for our team.”

“I think you are,” Y/N said with a smile. “Now, that kind of goes into this question, but if you weren’t a setter; what position would you play?”

“I’d love to be a libero, they’re pretty badass, but I don’t think I’d be good at it.” He paused for a moment, and the interviewer knew he wasn’t done speaking yet. “Probably a middle blocker, because I have the height and I’ve already done it before.”

“Liberos are badass. My older brother is a libero, and he’s a badass.” It was obvious Oikawa wanted to ask who his brother was, because that meant L/N was probably really into volleyball. “I think that’s all I’ll ask you.  I know there were other questions, but I don’t want to write about everyone’s answers to the same questions.”

Oikawa watched as the other turned off the recorder and it put in his bag along with his notebook and pen. He didn’t want this to be over, because he knew Y/N would go back to not acknowledging the setter’s existence.

“Let’s go on a date,” the brunette blurted and the other looked down at him confused. “We go on a date and then start dating.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N said as his expression became even more confused. “I’m just not interested, especially in someone who tried to wreck the first part of an interview.”

Oikawa stared at him and wasn’t sure on what to do.  No one ever really rejected him because he was used to being the one who always got confessions.  The h/c haired boy standing above him wasn’t going to give him a confession though, and that slightly broke the setter’s heart.

“Just think about it.”

Y/N offered a hand to pull the other up and Oikawa took it, hoping maybe physical contact would make the editor want to be with him, and the two were so close.  L/N took a step back before he smirked slightly.

“I’m most likely not going to think about it, but you could grab Iwaizumi for me when we go back to where everyone is practicing,” he said with such a sweet voice that Oikawa wanted to bang his head into a wall.

That sweet voice was only ever reserved to those who the editor wanted to deck in the face.  If any of his club members were there, they’d try everything they could to get Oikawa out of the situation.  Instead, if the setter said one more thing to piss the h/c haired boy off, then he’d probably lose it.

“Okay,” the third year captain said and the other smiled at him. “You sure you want to interview him?”

“Yes, I would’ve preferred to have interviewed him first.”

Silence fell over them as they walked to practice, and Oikawa kept looking over at the other, who was now on his phone.  Masaru had texted to ask if the editor had killed anyone yet and Y/N had to admit that he thought about it multiple times.

“When you’re ready for that date, just tell me,” Oikawa said before he went to someone else, and Y/N wondered if he should’ve killed him.  Would’ve made all of this so much easier.

Y/N’s fake smile dropped to show his irritation.  When the wing spiker approached him, he could see that Iwaizumi looked amused.  The editor raised an eyebrow at him, which made the dark haired third year chuckle.

“So, you rejected Shittykawa?”

“Yeah, is there a problem?”

“Not at all; it’s actually pretty funny.”

 *****

The next day when Y/N entered the gym to get the team to take photos in the photography room, where everything was set up.  Iwaizumi was the one to greet him as well as the two first years, who looked fairly nervous. The h/c haired boy thought it was ridiculous for them to be nervous, because photos weren’t hard.

“Where is everyone?” Y/N asked as he looked down at his watch, he had scheduled this to be before their practice.  He didn’t want to take up too much of their practice time.

“In the club room. Oikawa is trying to make them look pretty,” Kindaichi said, and the third year editor laughed into his hand. The three in front of him looked at him a little shocked because he actually looked cute unlike yesterday when he looked annoyed yesterday.

“Can you take me to the club room, because I don’t want to cut into your practice time too much,” Y/N said with a soft smile that made Iwaizumi feel on edge.

He nodded and took the editor to the club room.  He feared the boy was going to freak out, because Oikawa had said the h/c third year had snapped at him during his interview.  The ace opened the door to reveal Oikawa messing with someone’s hair, and he looked over at his shoulder to see e/c eyes staring into his soul.

“Hey, we really need to get going with these photos,” Y/N said, no anger in his voice.  He wasn’t upset, because it seemed that Oikawa just wanted everyone to look good in their photos. “I understand trying to look nice, but it would be good to fix hair and everything in the photography room.”

“Oh, okay,” Oikawa said as he stepped away from Yahaba, whose hair definitely did look better. “We can finish when we get to the place.”

“Thank you, Oikawa-san,” Y/N said before turning around to walk away from the club room to go back to the two first years the third years had left behind.

“Who was that?” Watari asked with a shocked expression. “He wasn’t like that at all yesterday.”

“He wants to make sure we don’t miss too much practice, because he promised coach he’d be quick,” Iwaizumi said as he looked over at Oikawa, who looked lovesick. “What’s with the stupid expression on his face?”

“Mr. Editor didn’t yell at him,” Hanamaki said as he laughed slightly. “He doesn’t know how to function.”

“I mean, he’s kind of hot when he’s angry,” Matsukawa said as he put his jersey on.  Oikawa looked over at him and pointed a finger at him.

“Don’t you dare try to take him away from me,” Oikawa said, and Iwaizumi started laughing.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself dumbass.  Let’s get to going,” Iwaizumi said, and everyone left the club room before Oikawa and Iwaizumi. “Stop pouting.  You didn’t give a great first impression, which is normal for you.  Try making up for it.”

 *****

 Y/N wasn’t skilled with a camera like he was with photoshop.  Thankfully the photography club knew that and helped him set up the backdrop and put the camera to the correct settings.  The only part they couldn’t help him with was positioning and poses.  It wasn’t that it was exactly hard, but he was the head editor and graphic design person for a reason.

“We will do individual shots, and if we have time, then we can also do some other shots as well,” he said once everyone was in the room. “I also need you guys to cooperate, because this isn’t my strong suit.”

“Then why do you do it?” Kindaichi asked, getting hit upside the head by Kunimi. “I’m just curious.”

“I edit all the graphics, and I struggle to explain how I want the photos because I don’t know what I’ll be doing until I have the photos,” Y/N explained. “Also, that’s a valid question to ask, so there’s no reason to hit anyone.”

Kunimi looked down at the ground, embarrassed, and the h/c editor shook his head with a small smile. Sure, this wasn’t his area of expertise, but he spent so much time in this room that it felt like a home.  He felt like he could be more himself here than when he was in the gym.

“We’ll have Oikawa go first, you brought a volleyball, right?” He asked, and Yahaba handed the brunette a ball. “Okay, you’re going to stand on the black piece of tape.  I’ll have you do a couple poses.”

The brunette nodded and the editor looked through the viewfinder, figuring out how close or far he needed to be away from the captain.  It didn’t help that the setter was 6’ while the editor was not.  He fixed the zoom and took a step back.

“Okay, we’ll do a couple basic volleyball poses,” Y/N said with a laugh. “My brother’s favorite is holding it with two hands around your abdomen.”

The mention of Y/N’s brother made Oikawa want to ask who it was.  There seemed to be a smile reserved for the mention of the older L/N, and the brunette wanted to know all about him.  Instead of asking anything, he posed the way the other wanted him to.

“Give me a smile,” Y/N said as he had his camera up to his eye. “We don’t want you to look like you hate everyone.”

“I just have to think about you to smile,” Oikawa said, and the editor gritted his teeth as he took the photo and looked at it.

“Stay in that position, but now smirk.  The smile may have been a tad too much.”

“My attraction to you isn’t too much,” the captain said, and all of his teammates felt embarrassed for him.

“I’m going to make a rule that you have to shut up or else I will butcher only your photo,” Y/N said as he continued to take photos. “Now, hold the volleyball out in front of you with one hand.”

Oikawa remained quiet, upset because he was just trying to be himself but he got so nervous around the h/c haired third year.  It was hard to think of things he said to his friends when a cute boy stood in front of him that he really wanted attention from.

“Thank you, Oikawa-san,” he said before he looked over at everyone else. “We’ll go in numerical order, so number two; you’re up.”

Iwaizumi hit Oikawa upside the head, which L/N acted like he didn’t see.  He didn’t hate the captain; there was no valid reason to.  Y/N had to admit the brunette was slightly amusing to be around, but he made things much harder than they needed to be.  Maybe he just hated being inconvenienced.  That was most likely it.

 *****

 Two days later the article was done and the third year stopped by the volleyball gym with a couple copies of the magazine.  It was something they always did if someone was in the issue, because it seemed polite to give them a copy in person.  The team was about to start practice, which was what the editor had hoped for.  A couple of the players stopped to look over at him with the magazines in his hands.

“Hey, I thought I’d drop these off for you guys,” Y/N said with a small smile. “I think your graphic turned out pretty badass, also thought your parents may want a copy.”

“Thank you, L/N,” Iwaizumi said before Oikawa entered the gym to see the h/c haired boy with the magazines, and a smile broke out on the captain’s face.

“L/N, you have the magazines!” Oikawa nearly squealed, which made the editor chuckle.

“Yes, you get to read your interview and see your face as many times as possible,” the editor said with a smile, and Kunimi looked at the third year curiously.

“You seem happier than usual,” the first year said slowly. “Did something happen?”

“I got a call from my brother earlier; we don’t get to talk much.  Just be glad that happened before I got here, because I was in a pretty shit mood before that.”

The mention of his brother made Oikawa look over at the editor, who had a smile on his face.  He also wasn’t in his uniform but a blue t-shirt and black jeans, which looked strange on the h/c haired third year.

“Okay, I’ve got to go. I have to stop by other places to discuss next issue,” Y/N said before he put the rest of magazines on the floor. “Have a good practice!”

Once the editor left, Kindaichi grabbed one of the magazines and flipped to the volleyball section and his expression changed into one of amazement.  He had never looked at one of their magazines before, because there was never anything for him to read but L/N’s sports section looked cool.

“The article is so long!” Kindaichi exclaimed, and Iwaizumi took the copy that Oikawa had picked up to look at it.

“He put all of our scores from the last tournament as well as our interviews,” Iwaizumi said as he flipped to the next page. “I wonder how hard it was to find all of this.”

“He probably goes to the games.  He’s mentioned his brother is in volleyball a couple times,” Hanamaki said as he looked at the graphic. “Mr. Editor made me look good unlike he did Shittykawa.”

“Hey!  Don’t call me that!” Oikawa said with a pout. “It’s so mean.”

“Wow, he made Oikawa seem like a decent person,” Matsukawa said before he clearing his throat.

 Oikawa Tooru is this year’s captain for the volleyball team, and he is going beyond the responsibilities of what a captain should be.  It is obvious he motivates his team to be the best they can be just as they motivate him back.  His passion for the sport is so strong that anyone is able to feel it if around him for long enough, especially when it becomes to why he loves being a setter.

“I went and saw an exhibition match between Argentina and Japan in Sendai with Iwaizumi when I was in elementary school,” Oikawa said. “When Argentina put Blanco in, he just made everything work, you know?  He brought balance back to the team.”

He wants to bring balance to Seijoh’s team just like Blanco did for Argentina’s team.  It is obvious that he does bring balance to his team when watching them in matches.  In June, Seijoh’s boys’ volleyball team made it to the finals, but ended up losing to Shiratorizawa.  No matter the end result, Oikawa showed that he is a phenomenal setter and captain.

 “Wow, I didn’t know you actually cared about us,” Hanamaki joked, and the brunette ignored it as Oikawa continued to read the article.

“I didn’t think he’d write about me so highly,” he said, and Iwaizumi hit him upside the head.

“He’s the editor, of course he’s going to write about you highly,” the ace said as he rolled his eyes. “Did you think this was a joke to him?  He didn’t get pissed at you for no reason.”

Oikawa stared at the article, unsure on what to do.  Sure, he hadn’t fully meant to be an asshole or a nuisance, but he also hadn’t expected the article to highlight him so well.  He gave him bullshit answers in the beginning, but he imagine he would’ve been able to make the article perfect either way.

“I’m an asshole,” he mumbled, and the other third years laughed.

“You sure are,” Hanamaki confirmed.

 *****

 Oikawa searched for the editor the next day to find the h/c haired boy on rooftop, staring at his phone. He had headphones in and the brunette noticed the other was watching a volleyball match on his phone.

“Fuck, they could’ve blocked that if they just fixed their stance,” Y/N mumbled, which the captain found slightly adorable. “Good thing he was able to receive it.”

Tooru slowly sat down to be next to the other, who looked over at him before he handed him a headphone. The brunette took it, noticing the other had paused the video, and put it in his ear.

“This is the UPCN San Juan vs Lomas Volleybal,” Y/N said before he played the video again, and Tooru stared at the phone, confused as to why the other was watching international matches.

Once he started watching, he noticed how the libero brought balance to the team.  He was crazy, receiving everything that came his way and things he had to run after.  It took a moment, but the captain realized that was L/N Yuki, the libero that was causing all the rage in Argentina and Japan.

“Holy shit, Yuki is your brother,” Oikawa said, and the other boy looked over at him and nodded.

“Thought you would’ve figured that out before now, but yeah he is,” Y/N said with a smile. “He actually came here for school, which is why I decided to come here.”

“Do you know how cool it is that he’s your brother?  I heard the national team wants him,” Tooru said with bright eyes. “He can receive anything.  He could probably even receive Ushiwaka’s spike.”

Y/N looked at the paused video before looking back up at him.  He realized that the dumbass brunette in front of him didn’t have people’s skills until he got excited or really knew the person.  The editor would like to say he was the same, but he was only comfortable with his family and Masaru.  With everyone else he was an asshole.

“I remember when he was in Panasonic Panthers and there was that setter on Osaka Blazer Sakai that was obsessed with setter dumps that didn’t get one successful one because of Yuki,” Oikawa rambled. “I remember wanting to be a libero just to piss off setters, but then I thought that I could be a setter that pisses off liberos with my setter dumps.”

“Let’s go on a date,” Y/N said, not ashamed of cutting the other off, because Oikawa’s mouth had been opened to talk. “Tell me all about your favorite volleyball moments on a date.”

“Are you being serious?” Tooru asked, and the h/c haired boy nodded.

“I’ve realized you have no people skills outside of trying to be charming,” he said, which made Oikawa look like he had been stabbed. “You’re passionate about volleyball though, and I imagine your people skills will get better the longer we know each other.”

“So, you’re really going to go on a date with me?”

“Yes,” Y/N said as he raised an eyebrow. “You’re making me reconsider though.”

“No!” Oikawa exclaimed as he waved his hands around. “Don’t do that!”

“Okay, stop asking me if we’re really going on a date,” L/N said before he clicked out of the video and handing his phone to the brunette to put in his information. “I’ll text you and we’ll figure out when our date will be.”

Oikawa put his number in, nerves eating at him.  He wasn’t used to people like Y/N liking him, because they typically didn’t.  He knew he could be a lot and not everyone was interested in that, but the editor seemed to not mind too much.

“Stop being so nervous, Oikawa,” Y/N said with a laugh. “I should be the nervous one because your fangirls may find out and want to kill me.”

“I doubt they’d kill me.”

“Whatever you say, captain, but I’m pretty sure they would.” Y/N put his hand out with an impatient expression. “Can we continue watching the game, because you know we’re not really supposed to have our phones.”

“Yeah, of course,” Tooru said, and he noticed it was an old game. “When is this from?”

“Yesterday,” Y/N said as he put his earbud in and looked over at the setter, his e/c eyes glimmering. “UPCN San Juan won, but I didn’t get to see it because it was so late here when it was on.”

“You spoiled the ending!” Oikawa exclaimed and the h/c haired boy laughed, forehead pressing into the other’s shoulder.

“We can’t watch the entire hour and a half right now,” Y/N said as he gave the brunette the other earbud. “You also have practice later.”

“I don’t,” Tooru said immediately. “We don’t have practice on Monday, so we can watch it later together.”

Y/N smiled at him before he took the earbud from Oikawa and looking down at the black screen on his phone. Blush covered his cheeks, but not enough to where the captain would be able to tell, which was a good thing.  He looked up at Tooru with a bigger smile.

“Let’s watch UPCN San Juan kick ass later, okay?”

Oikawa let out a breath that had gotten caught in his throat from the other’s smile before he smile and nodded.

“Let’s do it.”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu fic #oikawa torū #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x male reader #oikawa x reader #haikyuu #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #oikawa toru x reader #oikawa tooru x male reader

[parkerslatte]

Instagram Live

MASTERLIST

Owen Joyner x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 996

Summary: (Y/N) and Owen are dating and are keeping it private. When they do an Instagram live, most of the comments shipping the two together. Owen ends the live and kisses (Y/N)...only he didn't end the live.

*****

I was slumped on the couch flicking through countless different channels. I wanted to watch something but everything on the TV wasn’t interesting enough to keep my attention. I gave up looking for something and switched the TV off and scrolled through Instagram. Everyone on there looked perfect on their beach holiday where I was laying on a couch, hair piled up on the top of my head, wearing one of Owen’s shirts that was far too big for me, looking enviously at their photo. It didn’t stop me from liking it though.

“(Y/N)!” I hear a voice from the bedroom.

“Yeah?” I call back.

“Can you come here a second?” 

I didn’t reply as I pulled myself up from the couch and dragged my feet towards the bedroom. I walked through the door to see Owen balancing his phone in front of a mug.

“What’re you doing?” I ask, approaching him.

“I’m doing an instagram live, do you wanna be in it?”

“Looking like this, no thanks.” I reply, wrapping my arms around his torso.

“You look beautiful, now please be in it, I have no idea how to work it.” 

I chuckled slightly, “Fine, just give me a few minutes to look a little bit presentable.”

I wandered over to the mirror and pulled my hair down from it’s messy hairstyle. I ran my fingers through it, getting some of the knots out before tying it up again, making sure it looked presentable. 

“I’m ready to start whenever you are.” I say walking back over to Owen. 

Owen wrapped his arm around my shoulder and was about to start the live before I stopped him.

“Hey, don’t you think that this is a little obvious.” I say gesturing to his arm around my shoulders.

Owen and I have kept our relationship private for a while now, but that didn’t stop fans from shipping us. I met Owen when I landed a recurring role of Julie and the Phantoms season two and it didn’t take us long to start a relationship. We had been together about five months now and I couldn’t be happier.

“Oh yeah,” Owen said before moving his hand down and held my waist, the camera couldn’t see it so it was okay, “Okay, now are you ready to start?”

I nodded and Owen started the live. Almost immediately there were thousands of people joining and there were a bunch of comments flooding in. 

“Hey guys.” Owen said while I smiled at the camera, “We’re doing an instagram live.”

“I think they guessed that,” I chuckled and leaned forward to look at the comments, “If anyone has any questions, just type in the comments.”

Most of the comments coming through were asking about me and Owen, I ignored them and looked for some other comments.

“(Y/N), is that Owen’s shirt?” I read out, “Yes it is, I’m round his apartment and I spilt some of my lunch down mine and I didn’t have a spare.”

My answer wasn’t technically a lie, I did spill my lunch down my shirt but I could’ve easily put one of mine on since most of my clothes were at his apartment anyway. But Owen’s were just comfier.

“How was it working on Julie and the Phantoms, (Y/N)?” Owen read out.

“It was great. I was welcomed onto the set so easily and everyone treated me like I had been there since the beginning. Everyone was so talented and I loved working with them, well except Owen.” 

“Hey!” Owen said and he squeezed my waist slightly.

“Only joking, you’re my favourite.” I say and look back at the questions.

It was hard to find questions since most of them were about the two of us dating. Owen and I tried our best to ignore them but they were the only comments coming through.

“Are you two dating?” Owen read aloud, “No we are not dating, we’re just friends.”

“Unfortunately.” I added

“I didn’t invite you onto this live to bully me.” Owen said.

“You wouldn’t have it any other way.” I say and pat his chest. 

The two of us answered a few more questions before we decided to end the live since we weren’t getting many questions. 

“Okay, thank you guys for, you know, joining. We might do another one soon, depends how bored we get.” Owen said.

“Bye!” I waved at the camera with a smile while Owen leaned forward and ended the live.

He stepped back to me and wrapped both of his arms around my waist and I rested my hands on his chest. 

“Well that was an eventful live.” I mumble.

Owen only smiled before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to my lips. He pulled away a couple of seconds later.

“Do you wanna go and watch a movie?” He asked.

“Sure, what one?” 

“Whatever one you want?” Owen said.

“You’re seriously letting me choose, after what happened last time?” I question, remembering the time I picked a horror film and Owen hid behind me the entire time.

“Yeah, maybe I won’t let you choose,” He said before leaning down to peck my lips, “I’ll go and find one, can you make us some snacks?”

“Of course I can.” I say as Owen began to walk out of the room.

“Oh, can you grab my phone?” Owen asked, standing in the doorway.

I nodded and reached for his phone. My eyes widened at the sight. The live didn’t end.

“Um, Owen?” I say.

“Yeah?” He says.

“You didn’t end the live.” I say.

“What do you mean?” He asked, confused. He walked forward and once he noticed, he quickly ended the live. 

I chuckled slightly, “What a way to announce our relationship.”

Even though Owen and I didn’t really want to announce our relationship and keep it private, both of us found the humour in how it was announced.

“You really are terrible with instagram aren’t you?”

#owen joyner #owen jatp #owen patrick joyner #julie and the phantoms #owen joyner x reader #jatp