#{VISAGE}「Not My Final Form」 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bvidzsoo · 3 months ago

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The blue and pink of your skin

ᨒCherry Blossom, March Eventᨒ

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: sunshine!Jeong Yunho x grumpy!reader

ᨒ Warning: cursing ᨒ Word count: 7.3k ᨒ Rating: sfw ᨒ Genre: fluff, soulmates: a touch from your soulmate will leave an imprint there, road trip, stuck together/roommates, sunshine & grumpy, one friend group, slight enemies to lovers ᨒ Summary: If there's one person you never understood, and stopped trying to, it was Jeong Yunho. Upon your first meeting back in college, you just knew he'd be a pain in the ass...and you were right. His vibrant personality matched with the constant smile on his face and sickening positivity always made you stay away from him. But much to your dismay, your friend groups mashed quite well, and years after college, you were still going strong and hanging out at any given opportunity. Much to your horror, your best friend makes you share a room and a bed with Yunho for the weekend, and that's when things change...but not for the reasons you'd first think of.

A/N: Helloo, my loves! And so, we've reached the penultimate drabble of this event, it feels kind of bittersweet, but I am so glad I could share these stories with you, Mina and I had a blast planning this event and writing all the little stories. Posting this drabble today was strategic since I wanted it to be the closest to Yunho's birthday, hehe, so happy belated birthday to our Yunho! ^^ Out of all the stories, this was the first one I got an idea for, so I'm really excited to finally post it. It turned out shorter than I expected (and I'm glad for that ahahaha). I hope you enjoy, I'd like to thank everyone who have shared their thoughts on all of our stories, we appreciate your feedback lots! That being said, let me know what you thought of this one, and I hope to see you around for my other stories! ^^ divider @cromernet

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@mintsugarr93

You groaned as you stretched your numb muscles, massaging your calf as you waited for your best friend’s boyfriend to unload your luggage. The drive had taken you three hours, but the longer you stared at the visage, the more you realised it was worth being stuffed inside a car next to Jeong Yunho. You scowled to yourself as your eyes shifted onto the tall man, who was—unsurprisingly—laughing about something he was watching on his phone. His bony knee had been digging into your thigh the whole ride because the tallest and largest man had decided to take the middle seat for some obscure reason. You rolled your eyes and faced Seungcheol as he finally grabbed your duffel bag, hauling it out of the trunk of his car.

“Damn,” He muttered, one eyebrow raised teasingly, “Did you only pack dumbbells, or why is this so heavy?”

You were about to retort something just as Jeonghan slid up next to you, smirking mischievously, “Nah, this lovely lady wouldn’t leave the house without all that face paint she uses. Had to make sure everything was packed.”

“You assholes.” You snapped, shrugging off Jeonghan’s arm and ripping your duffle bag out of Seungcheol’s hands, flipping them off as you stormed off towards the lovely-looking beach house. It looked rather spacious, and judging based on the pictures your best friend had shown you of the interior, it had a Greek theme going on. You sighed as you walked up the front steps, still able to hear Seungcheol and Jeonghan’s amused cackles, making you shake your head. At times, you couldn’t believe you were friends with such idiots, and for such a long time, at that. Has it been five—no, maybe six years—since your friend group formed, all thanks to one drunken night when all of you just so happened to attend the same frat party, teaming up randomly for a game that you couldn’t even recall anymore? You remembered those days fondly, even called it the Golden Times since you’ve never had as much fun in your life as then. And now, with college over and everyone having busy lives, things were a lot calmer and more complicated. It was a miracle everyone was able to make it this weekend, your little get-together was much expected and welcomed.

The wood creaked under your feet as you took to the second floor, following your best friend’s instructions from this morning. The rooms had already been assigned to everyone, and who your roommate would be was still a mystery. You were just about to guess who it could be when you heard footsteps following after you on the stairs, making you turn your head back. Your heart dropped when your eyes fell on Jeong Yunho, who—once again—was unsurprisingly grinning and looking as happy as if he had won the lottery. He nodded at you in a small greeting as if you hadn’t already seen each other—hell, you were even forced to breathe the same air for three hours—and out of instinct, your feet carried you up the stairs faster. Yunho looked amused as he jogged up after you, and as if you were a little kid, you found yourself basically running for your assigned room, heart beating fast. Your duffle bag was getting in the way of your legs, forcing you to be a lot slower than you usually were, so you chanced a look back over your shoulder, only to see Yunho still following you. Your heart lurched in your chest as he laughed—as if this was amusing to him—and you finally made it inside your room, whirling around as you stared at Yunho wide-eyed. Why was he following you?! Wasn’t it enough you had to endure his laughter and stupid stories for two hours? And then, you had to sit there stiffly as his head lolled to the side, landing on your shoulder as soft snores left his mouth?! God, everything about Jeong Yunho was so damn irritating—you wanted to scream. Instead, you slammed the door in his face before he could reach the threshold of your assigned room, heart racing in your chest.

You’d be ashamed to admit your age if anyone were to see you right now, but as the doorknob started twisting, your hand shot out and grabbed it, keeping it from turning. Your eyebrows furrowed as the person on the other side wouldn’t give up—Yunho, the person was Yunho—and you yelped when the door started rattling. Your fingers flexed and your muscles tensed as you dropped your duffle bag, holding the door with both hands, cursing when even the doorframe started shaking.

“What the fuck,” You heard a confused mutter on the other side, “Is this stuck?”

God, why did your best friend hate you? There was no way in hell your best friend willingly made Yunho your roommate—she must’ve been held at gunpoint by Seungcheol when she made the arrangements.

“Hey, Y/N? You good in there?!” And God, you hated the slight concern lacing Yunho’s tone as your hands started aching from your vice-like grip on the doorknob, “The door’s stuck!”

“No, it’s not, you idiot.” You hissed under your breath, accepting your fate as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Then, on the next push, you twisted the doorknob suddenly and yanked it open, making Yunho stumble forward with an alarmed yelp. His eyes widened as he barrelled inside your shared room, hands out in front of himself to brace him in case he fell. He looked like a clown, a tall and idiotic one, as he found his footing—legs in a wide stance and mouth open in a silent scream. He slowly turned his body, ears burning red, an unsure smile on his lips.

“Oh my God, that was scary.” He muttered as he looked around the room, his eyes falling on you as he grabbed his backpack off his shoulder, “Well, hi there, roomie!”

And God, how much you hated that cheerful—full of life and happiness and the desire to live—smile on his handsome face, you wanted to both scream and punch him.

“Roomie, my ass.” You huffed before turning around and storming outside, leaving a confused Yunho looking after you. His head had tilted to the side as he rubbed his nape with an awkward chuckle leaving his lips, and he shrugged before he grabbed your duffle bag to place it on the left side of your shared queen bed since he knew you preferred sleeping on that side. Meanwhile, with your blood boiling and your cheeks red from both anger and embarrassment, you stormed out onto the back deck, instantly finding your best friend. She was already sipping a cocktail out of a fake coconut, and you wondered when she had made that since you had just arrived.

“Kang Seulgi!” You snapped, arms crossing over your chest as you blocked the sun from your best friend’s face. Yeosang, her brother, jumped in the seat next to her when he heard their surname being called, placing a hand over his heart.

“Lord, I’m still not used to you shouting at us.” He muttered under his breath, going back to his magazine when you threw him a dirty look, “And I’ve been listening to it for at least ten years.”

Seulgi’s laughter drowned out her brother’s muttering, and you tried to channel your anger into your issue with Seulgi only. Yeosang was a lovely man, and you sometimes preferred him over his twin sister, but his snarky comments could make you climb walls and hang upside down like a female Spiderman.

“What’s the matter, my dear—”

But Seulgi wasn’t even finished asking when you were already speaking, fast, and throwing an accusing finger in her face, “You made me and Yunho room together?! Are you insane?!”

You felt Yeosang look over his magazine, amusement dancing on his features as Seulgi and he shared a look. Oh, so this wasn’t just Seulgi’s idea—sometimes you wondered why you decided to be friends with such devils.

“Honey, I thought we were over this.” Seulgi raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her cocktail nonchalantly, “It’s only for two nights, for God’s sake. And it’s literally Yunho, the sweetest guy you could ever meet. Do you want me to switch him up with Jeonghan? Or Soonyoung?”

You shuddered hearing those two names and quickly shook your head, realizing that rooming with one evil person or one that would never shut up was perhaps worse than rooming with the guy who’s been getting on your nerves since the moment you met him. Which was…five or six years ago, at that college party that changed your lives for the better and an eternity.

“Don’t be mad at me, my dear,” Seulgi pouted, reaching out to hold your hand, “Only you and Yunho aren’t a couple; I think it was expected you two end up rooming together. And because I knew you’d hate me for it, as compensation, I gave you the only room with an ocean view.”

Your flare died out at the mention of being able to see the water from your room, and you pouted as you intertwined your fingers with Seulgi’s. She chuckled, shaking her head at you as she offered you her cocktail. Leaning down, you took a sip and instantly regretted it as the potent alcohol burned your throat, the taste of coconut almost making you gag. Yeosang chuckled as he hid behind his magazine, eyes peeking out when you shuddered.

“I hope yours isn’t as atrocious as hers.” You pointed at the cocktail sitting on the coffee table next to Yeosang, and he shook his head, grinning proudly.

“Jongho’s bartender days had paid off well.” Right, you forgot for a second that Jongho had flown into the country just to go on this get-together with the whole of you. You couldn’t wait to catch up with him, eager to hear all of his stories and the places he’s visited lately. As a rising opera singer, you could confidently say Jongho was the smartest one in your bunch when it came to building a good future for himself. You let go of Seulgi’s hand as you hummed, shuffling on your feet now that you had nothing else to say. You had to room with Yunho whether you liked it or not. Breaking up the couples would’ve been an asshole move, and it would’ve also made you feel uncomfortable—unless Yeri, bless her the angel she was—would end up fighting with Soonyoung over some game, their fight leading her to ditch Soonyoung and room with you instead. One could pray, and you did as you headed back to your room, wanting to unpack your things.

You dragged your feet as you entered the house, the smell of something delicious cooking making your stomach growl. Jeonghan and Seungcheol were already in the kitchen, seasoning the meat and boiling water for ramen, the caramelized onion promising a delicious lunch in just a few hours. As you went up the stairs, you weren’t even surprised to find Soonyoung blasting his music loudly, the door to his and Yeri’s room opened as he was doing push-ups, Yeri nowhere in sight.

“Have a little consideration for some of us, yeah?” You knew Jongho was probably trying to catch up on much-needed sleep, but Soonyoung just pouted before he pushed the door open in your face, not before sticking his tongue out. You rolled your eyes and headed for your room, dread filling your body. Yunho was in there, probably still happy as if he had no worries in this damn world, either smiling or laughing at something on his goddamn phone. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the next two days that were to come, then pushed the door open.

Somehow, you weren’t surprised to see Yunho perched up on the edge of the bed, shoes kicked off and his hoodie disregarded as he was playing on his PlayStation Portal, his bottom lip between his teeth and his eyebrows furrowed. The guy was obsessed with gaming throughout college, and you see he hadn’t let go of the bad habit just yet. You didn’t understand what was so entertaining or even pleasurable about wasting your time and life away in front of a console, playing stupid games that either had you mad or screaming at your teammates. Yunho tsked quietly as you walked further inside, shutting the door behind you and stepping out of your shoes, not knowing what to do next. The curtains were undrawn and your eyes settled on the pretty visage for a second, taking in the brightness of the ocean, the waves that crashed against the golden sand not too far from your vacation house. You felt eyes on you, and you turned your head to see Yunho looking up at you with a smile on his lips, the game loading on his console. God, did he have to resemble a damn excited dog? You couldn’t even look at a dog anymore without remembering Yunho, he ruined everything for you.

Looking at your duffle bag on the left side of the bed, realizing that Yunho had already unpacked his things on the right side of the room, made something snap in your chest as your heart started racing again. And what better way than to take your frustration out on Yunho? You gritted your teeth and stormed towards the bed, making Yunho’s eyes widen as you were headed straight for him. He sat up a bit taller when you stopped inches away from him, hands on your hips as you frowned, gnawing on your bottom lip for a second. He opened his mouth, and before he could say something to piss you off even more, your loud voice was clear in the room, “We need rules.”

Yunho didn’t say anything as he looked at you confused, tilting his head as his eyebrows slightly furrowed, “Uhm, what for?”

“Did you think I would just let you in my personal space?” You raised your eyebrows at Yunho and he pouted, the game on his console dinging that it was about to start. He looked down to pause it, then faced you again.

“I mean, we are adults, so I just didn’t expect for us to have…rules.” For someone who was a philosophy professor, he sure as hell looked and sounded dumb right now. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms in front of your chest instead, tapping your foot against the floor impatiently.

“That’s exactly why we need rules.” You huffed, then cleared your throat to make yourself understood, “Don’t turn on the overhead lights once I’ve gone to bed; if you snore, you’re instantly out. Clean the sink and toilet after you use it, it’s literally not that hard to close the lid. If I find pubic hair in the shower, you’re never using our bathroom ever again. If you have to fart, fine, but if it’s loud and smelly—for the love of God, Yunho, just use the damn terrace, I don’t want to partake in it. Keep your things on your side of the room, don’t touch my stuff and don’t steal my charger. And most importantly, don’t touch me—not even accidentally—while we are in bed. The pillows I’ll put between us are not to be moved, yeah?!”

Yunho just blinked at you, mouth slightly open as he seemed to be processing the information. As you stared at each other, you realized his black hair had gotten a bit longer since the last time you’d seen him, getting in his eyes. Eyes which were round and a pretty brown colour, staring up at you innocently as if you had accused him of a murder he had never committed. A murder that you would commit if he didn’t respect your boundaries.

“I mean, okay.” His voice was unsure as he pouted, looking around the room, “Can I at least have a little section of the wardrobe for my clothes?”

Great, and now you were the tyrant. You huffed and went to grab your duffle bag, hauling it up on the bed to start unpacking, “You act as if I just stripped you of all of your rights.”

“Might as well have done that, would’ve felt less stingy.” You froze, eyebrows furrowing as you gave Yunho a questioning look. He was still watching you, his cheerful expression finally gone—and the triumph you had expected to feel at being the cause of it never came, leaving you confused. Before you could question what he had meant, Yunho looked down and pressed play on his console, a loud and long sigh leaving his lips as he scooted further up on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard. You gave his body a longer glance than necessary, then went back to the task at hand while also trying to locate all the available pillows in the room to put between the two of you on the bed.

It was as if no time had passed, as if you were all just naïve and unassuming young adults in your early twenties again, doing the stupidest things that came to mind, sharing stories that certainly were laced with white lies to make them sound cooler, and life felt good for now. As you had dinner this evening, you came to realise that your life had become too monotonous, too frigid. You did the same things daily, getting up and going to work, only to return tired in the afternoon to a household that was empty and bland, waiting for you to fill it with life…which rarely happened since you couldn’t be bothered to pour your time into insignificant things. Most people that you knew were already paired up with their soulmates, having long found them. Your friend group—something that still shocked anyone you told them about—was formed by couples who were soulmates. You knew the Universe had a plan for everyone, stringing them together in mysterious ways, but this one was downright bizarre. Nobody would’ve thought on the night of your first meeting that you’d end up so tight-knit and important to each other, slowly but gradually each one of you discovering their soulmates. Well, except for you and Yunho.

It's not that you weren’t trying to find them; it’s that you were mostly too busy to bother with that, and you also weren’t fond of physical closeness. In a world which requires a touch from your soulmate to leave a mark, thus discovering your match, the thought made you shudder as you rarely let anyone close enough to touch you. Seulgi and Yeosang were exceptions, as were Jeonghan and Seungcheol since they never listened and only did it to annoy you. Sometimes, you wondered if the Universe accidentally mismatched their soulmates for someone else instead of each other, but whenever you voiced that thought, Seulgi would whine, and Jihyo would threaten to beat you up if you repeated that sentence. You knew better than anyone else what it felt like to be surrounded by unconditional love and adoration-filled looks passed between soulmates, and yet you wondered if Yunho ever felt the envy you did as you watched him across the table, head tipped back as he laughed loudly at whatever story Soonyoung was animatedly telling him.

He had always seemed so content, so confident in his aloneness; it made you wonder whether Yunho simply didn’t care about the existence of soulmates. Maybe he had a partner he wasn’t telling you all about, not that you were interested enough to know. The dinner table had been loud as everyone talked over each other, conversations flying around the table without stopping, the friend group eager to catch up and be nostalgic over the past. It felt nice to step away and relax a little, to be surrounded by people who had known you at your lowest and highest. You were thankful for having them, even if you rarely showed it to them, and as your eyes got glassy, you forced yourself to blink the tears away and blame it on the wine. Listening to Jongho, watching the happiness and excitement on his face, made something coil in your stomach, so proud of him for achieving his dream. It was now that you realised you wouldn’t change anything if you were allowed to go back in time—even if that meant meeting Yunho, too.

You don’t know when this displeasure for him started, but you were suspicious it had something to do with the fact that he had laughed in your face after you started crying over a failed grade. You were a perfectionist and worked hard for everything in life; failing at something felt like you were the biggest failure, and you did not appreciate Yunho’s cheery disposition as he told you that the world wouldn’t end if you weren’t good at everything. He wouldn’t get it, he barely cared about anything, he was nonchalant and allowed life to take him to whatever places. You weren’t like that and you hated the envy that consumed your veins when you watched how carefree he was, with how much ease he navigated his life. Happiness was a feeling everyone chased—yearned to feel—and it had never sat well with you that Yunho just so easily achieved it. There was no way he could be that happy all the time, always smiling and laughing, joking with everyone and making others laugh—something wasn’t right about him, and you hated him for it. You sighed before you took another sip of your wine, looking at Yeri as she sneakily pushed her mushrooms filled with cheese on your plate. Soonyoung and her had been dating for the longest, and yet, Soonyoung still hadn’t memorized the fact that Yeri hated mushrooms and carrots.

Once you were done with dinner, you weren’t surprised to find the boys proposing ridiculous games to play as the girls tried to do damage control. You’ve had a long day and you were sure everyone would want to head to bed earlier today compared to yesterday. Your morning was quiet, much to your surprise, Yunho had respected all of your rules and even aired the bathroom after using it. By the time you had come back inside your shared room, he was gone, the scent of his cologne strong as the pleasant breeze brushed inside through the open terrace door. He had also kept to his side of the bed, and you had woken up during the night because you had to pee, finding him clutching a pillow to his chest as he intangibly muttered to himself, his cheeks puffy and hair mused up. Before you could stare at him and become creepy, you went to the bathroom and groaned as you realized Yunho looked adorable. You spent the rest of your day out on the beach, enjoying the warm weather and the refreshing water. Then you had gone to town and hit up pubs and some stores before you returned to your beach house, everyone prettying up so you’d head out at night to have some fun. Getting ready with Yunho was rather domestic and left you feeling weird as you shared a mirror in the bathroom, you doing your makeup and him shaving. No words were exchanged as you were both focused, but you couldn’t help but stare at Yunho from time to time. He’d smile at you softly before finishing up, even asking you questions about what moisturizer he should use to soothe his face after shaving.

It felt oddly normal, right, even, which messed with your head and heart since you hated Jeong Yunho more than anything on this Earth. And now, forced to partake in a game that made no sense, you could feel your heart racing as your arm brushed against Yunho’s, your naked skins hot against each other. Nobody wanted to do the dishes since there were many, so the boys had decided that the slowest couple that would reach the finish line with their ankles tied together would be the ones doing the dishes. It was stupid—and hilarious at the same time—but you refused to admit it when you realized just how excited Yunho was over this stupid idea. And even like that, you couldn’t hide your competitiveness as you focused on the red ribbon tied to a little stick Jongho had pressed into the sand. The moon was above the ocean, shining its calming light over the water and your friend group, as the porch light didn’t reach this far. Your flashlights from your phones helped with better lighting as you made sure you weren’t stepping on crabs, seashells, any small rocks or anything else that could cut your bare feet. You felt goosebumps erupt on your exposed arms due to the chilly breeze, having to grip your long skirt as you were afraid it would get in the way of your success. You raised it above your knees as you stared ahead, tsking when you felt Yunho tugging on your ankle.

“Sorry.” He muttered, looking down at you as Yeri screamed as she and Soonyoung finally passed the finish line. Jihyo was laughing loudly as she showed them the time, the slowest couple so far, and Jongho cheered with malice as he was draped over Yeosang’s back, the couple currently in first place. You chuckled as you watched the two men, their cheeks flushed from the cocktails they’d been having throughout the night, and you jumped when you felt Yunho tenderly pat your wrist, “We are up next.”

Right, it was your turn. You bit your lower lip and clumsily hopped to the start line, feeling perspiration break out on your forehead despite the colder weather. Your heart was racing in anticipation and adrenaline as you realized you and Yunho might not make it to the finish line without faceplanting since you both seemed to be klutzy about this.

“Ready?” Jongho asked, his words slightly slurred, and you wondered how he and Yeosang finished so quickly without tumbling even once, “Start!”

Jeonghan’s loud clap made you jump even though you knew it was coming, and your eyes widened when you felt your tied ankle being dragged by Yunho as he took twice the length of a footstep you would’ve called normal. You yelped as you realized Yunho was practically dragging you after himself, your left hand curling into his bicep as you felt him hold you by the waist to stabilize you when he felt you stagger.

“Come on!” Yunho called out, looking down at you with dark eyes, determined not to lose this. You huffed but had to agree with him; you were not going to wash the monstrous amount of dishes in the kitchen, so you locked in, “That’s it! One—two—three—”

And Yunho continued to count as your steps synched up, finding the perfect rhythm as you were suddenly power walking down the sand, headed for the finish line. You didn’t even realise it at first, but you had started laughing at some point, as did Yunho, who started giggling, jarred on by the booing and cheering of your friends. Jeonghan tried to sabotage you by throwing a pebble in front of you, making Jihyo chastise him for it, but thanks to the long strides Yunho was forcing you to take—not everyone had legs for days like him—you thankfully missed hurting your foot.

“Come on, Y/N, Yunho!” Yeosang cheered you on as he watched the timer in his hands. His face lit up with excitement as he started jumping up and down, “Oh my God! They are going to beat our time, Joong—”

“Bullshit!” Jongho called loudly just as you crossed the finish line, making you cheer loudly as your chest moved up and down quickly as you tried to catch your breath, your heart racing in your chest. Yunho seemed to be glowing under the moonlight, his hair tussled by the wind and the top buttons of his shirt undone and exposing his collarbones and a wink of his chest and—shit, Yunho was gorgeous, and you weren’t laughing anymore as you had stopped to stare at his breathtaking smile.

Someone screamed in delight and you flinched, turning your head in time to watch Jongho falling to the ground dramatically as Yeosang grinned, “You two beat our time! You are in the first place!”

A gasp left your lips, and forgetting your ankle was still tied to Yunho’s, you made to jump up, only to be violently brought back down to the earth by the rope. You gasped again, more in fright, as you felt your right leg give out underneath you, but before you could hit the sand or, worse, sprain your ankle, you felt a strong hand wrap around your left bicep, holding you up. Long fingers pressed into your skin as you found anchor in Yunho’s wrist with your right hand, your own fingers curling into his skin painfully. Your heart was racing as you stared up at Yunho, who looked concerned until his eyebrows furrowed. You winced as you felt your skin burning under his grip, and the two of you released each other at the same time. As Seulgi came to help you untie the rope around your ankles, you dared to glance at your bicep, only to find it bruising into a dark spot right where Yunho’s fingertips had dug into your skin. You gulped nervously, something like dread filling the pit of your stomach as you watched Yunho rub his wrist, chewing on his bottom lip as his skin was blooming with black bruise marks as well.

No, this couldn’t be it. He couldn’t be the one. Anyone but Jeong Yunho, please, Universe.

The second your eyes flew open the next morning, you had one thought and one only in your mind. Check the bruising. If it was gone by now, you almost had a panic attack over nothing last night. If it was still there, then you’d never want to see Jeong Yunho ever again. You exhaled slowly as you gulped, turning your head to the left to check whether Yunho was still asleep or not. He was softly snoring, facing you as his arm was draped over the pillows you had placed between the two of you, and you came to the alarming realization that the hand which was resting over your stomach was brushing against Yunho’s warm skin. Your fingers seemed to be lazily intertwined and your cheeks burned in both shame and anger as you slowly pulled your hand back, staring up at the ceiling. You were leaving back home in just a few hours, and you hoped the moment you’d unlock your front door would come sooner. Sure, seeing your friends was everything you needed, but possibly being Jeong Yunho’s soulmate was everything you didn’t need.

Taking a quiet, deep breath, you slowly sat up, trying to keep the rustling of sheets minimal so as not to wake Yunho. Then, you said a quiet prayer and dared a peek at your left bicep—only for your world to come crashing down. Your body froze, your limbs going numb as you gaped at your pink and blueish skin, Yunho’s fingertips forever etched into your skin. It was there, nothing could take it away or modify it. The mark left by Yunho was permanent. And he was your soulmate, and you couldn’t do anything about it. Your heart started racing as you swiftly got out of bed, forgetting about Yunho’s presence as you felt tears gather in your eyes. Yunho was an amazing man, you’d be dumb to deny that fact, but you’ve spent your whole life hating him ever since you had gotten to know him. Why did it have to be him? And how come it took you two so long to figure it out? To find each other? You realized it was because you had never touched before, not like this, at least. Yunho knew you hated physical closeness, and unless a game or circumstance forced you together, you couldn’t remember a time when he willingly hovered over you or touched you.

You exhaled a shuddering breath as you continued pacing in your room, still dark inside since Yunho had drawn the blackout curtains together after you complained last morning about the sun falling on your face and waking you up unnecessarily early. You didn’t notice Yunho stirring awake as you bit through your nails, destroying the pretty manicure your friend had given you, and you could swear you still felt Yunho’s firm grip on your skin, his palm warm and smooth, gentle despite the way he held you up. Twisting your arm and looking down at the colourful bruise once again, you wished it would’ve stayed black…then your soul wouldn’t be tied to Jeong Yunho’s. Movement in your peripheral made you freeze again, body tense as you turned around to face Yunho. He had sat up in the bed, hair tousled in all directions, his cheeks chubby and flushed, his eyes puffy, and his lips swollen as he rubbed a large hand over his face, sighing loudly as he leaned against the headboard. It seemed like he hadn’t noticed your distress yet, and you chewed on your bottom lip, instinctively hiding the mark he had left on your bicep last night.

It took him a few more seconds of staring at you to notice the way your fingernails dug into your skin, and his eyes widened minusculely, gulping loudly as his eyes slowly travelled to his right wrist. You didn’t have to look at his skin to know, his quiet gasp was enough to tell you that, yes, this wasn’t a dream nor a sick joke. You and Yunho were soulmates.

“Y/N.” His voice was deep and laced with sleep as he scrambled forward on the bed, his legs getting tangled in the sheets, and something tugged at your heart. God, you hated this. You hated that Seulgi and Yeosang had been right about finding your soulmate…once they were yours, there was no going back, no blissful ignorance, no freedom whatsoever as all you wanted to do was curl up in Yunho’s lap and inhale his strong cologne, run your fingers through his hair and feel his bodily heat, “I’m—we are—”

“I’m hungry.” Was all you said as you grabbed your hoodie—it was Yunho’s, but in your haste to leave, you failed to notice. And then, you were out the door before Yunho could say anything else, his mouth open and his heart racing as he watched you slip away with thundering footsteps. Just how would he mend your already rocky bond?

Going radio silent on all of your friends was nasty of you, but you needed space and peace. You needed air to clear your thoughts, and you certainly didn’t need a second person’s opinion trying to convince you that finding your soulmate was the best thing in the world. So, what if it was? What if you didn’t want to have a soulmate? Who were you kidding? You’ve always wondered who it’d be and what they’d be like, but now that you knew, you had no idea what to do with yourself. Despite the warm day you had ahead of yourself, you wore a long-sleeved blouse to work, getting curious glances from your co-workers. It was cold in the mornings, so you had grabbed the hoodie you had worn to sleep last night after wearing it the whole day, only to realise in horror that it was Yunho’s and that you had taken it at the vacation house right in front of him. Everything felt mortifying today, even brewing your coffee in the late afternoon, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the visceral reaction you had when someone knocked on your door, and you opened it without checking the peephole first.

Your hands trembled as your grip tightened around the door handle, eyes drinking in Yunho’s tall form as he stood outside your doorstep, smiling sheepishly. His shorts reached just below his knees, a white t-shirt tucked inside with a brown belt hooked around his hips, the colour matching his Vans. Your heart stopped beating when your eyes fell on the flowers in his right hand, the bruise bright and obvious against his pale skin. You gulped, nervous, angry, and unsure at the same time as you stepped back, opening the door wider to let Yunho inside.

“Hi.” His tone was tentative as if he didn’t know how to approach you, and you felt like an asshole that Yunho had to tiptoe around you. He had no idea what attitude you’d have towards him now, and you couldn’t blame him. You’ve always made it obvious that you didn’t like him, and despite his efforts to get on your good side, he only managed to piss you off more each time.

“Hi.” You greeted back, tone impassive as he followed you to your kitchen after he left his shoes in the doorway. He was nervously fidgeting with his fingers, rubbing his chin, and you could see the beginning of a stubble growing out. You faced Yunho, the counter between your bodies as you eyed the flowers in his hand, quirking an eyebrow. Yunho blushed, then chuckled awkwardly before he placed the flowers on the counter, pushing them tentatively towards you.

“These are for you.” He said quietly, avoiding eye contact as you reached your hand out to take the flowers. Your hands brushed together accidentally, and you felt electricity coursing through your fingers. Yunho’s head snapped up as his eyes widened, and you knew he had felt it, too. You sighed, leaning against the counter in defeat as you grabbed the flowers, looking down at them with a tired smile.

“Thank you, this is a sweet gesture.” You muttered, tracing the petals as you heard a surprised sound leaving Yunho’s mouth. You chuckled, looking up at him in defeat, “I’m sorry for the way I reacted yesterday. I was…in shock.”

“It’s okay, I understand.” Yunho shrugged, pulling out a stool to sit on. You grabbed a vase and filled it with water as Yunho watched you tinker around in your kitchen, placing the pretty flowers in the vase, “How are you feeling now?”

You chuckled humourlessly, “I’m still shocked, but I’m not in denial anymore.”

“Yeah, that’s good.” Yunho averted his eyes, tracing the pattern of the marble of your countertop, “Is it…so horrible that I am your soulmate?”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you felt a lump in your throat. Gone was the happy and assured Yunho, replaced with someone sad-sounding and sceptical, “What? No, I just—I’m a horrible person. I’m sorry for making you feel unwanted, Yunho. I just…I spent my whole life ignoring you and disliking you, and now we’re…supposed to spend our lives together, it’s just so weird.”

You could’ve worded that better, and you only realized that when Yunho flinched, avoiding eye contact, “Wait! I—fine, I might as well be honest now. I was put off by your confidence at first; I didn’t understand how one could smile so much, laugh all the time and have no hardships. Then, as our friend group grew closer together, I realized it’s just who you were. A happy, cheerful, positive person with a bright outlook on life, and I just—that was so foreign to me. I thought you were fake for never showing how you truly felt, for smiling even when you were sad or angry. I realise it sounds really shitty of me now that I’m saying it out loud, but I genuinely don’t hate you, Yunho. I just find you…enigmatic?”

You didn’t expect Yunho to smile, but then again, you shouldn’t have been surprised that it was his first reaction. He chuckled and lowered his head, eyebrows furrowed before he looked up into your eyes, “I hope you’ll learn to be less grumpy by my side, then, Y/N, I can’t have you chasing the sunshine away.”

“You are the sunshine.” You slapped a hand over your mouth in terror when you realized you had said that out loud, making Yunho’s head fall back as he started laughing loudly. God, this was so utterly embarrassing. Were you always so cringy?

“That was rather sweet of you, thank you.” He said once he had calmed down, a faint blush painting his cheeks, “It’s a little hilarious you literally hate me for being a cheerful person, but I get it…I suppose. We are different in many ways, but you know what they say…opposites attract.”

“Right, that.” You muttered under your breath, pursing your lips, “What now?”

“Well,” Yunho seemed to think for a second, his forehead lightly creasing as he hummed lowly, “I say we slowly get to know each other.”

“But we already know each other.” You quickly said, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Yes, but you have a prejudice over me, and I also have my own beliefs about your personality, so…I say we take it from zero and rediscover each other. If that’s alright with you.” As an afterthought, Yunho added with a mutter, “After all, there’s plenty of ways we don’t know each other yet.”

Your cheeks flushed as your mind conjured up an image of Yunho you’d rather not fantasize about while the man was right in front of you, so you cleared your throat and squared your shoulders, trying to look serious despite the knowing glint in Yunho’s eyes with which he was looking at you, “Right, sure. That sounds…okay, I can work with that.”

Yunho stood, grinning widely at you, “Can I hug you, then?”

You gnawed on your bottom lip for a second before you nodded, walking around the counter to approach Yunho. He was beaming at you as he opened his arms, and your heart lurched all the way up into your throat before it settled into a frenzied rhythm, making you almost stagger into your soulmate. Yunho’s t-shirt was soft as your cheek landed on his shoulder, nose faintly brushing against the warm skin of his neck, and your eyes fluttered closed when Yunho’s arms secured around you, pulling you flush against himself. You exhaled quietly and circled his waist, feeling your cheeks burn as Yunho hummed in contentment, nuzzling his nose against the top of your head. He held you firmly like he knew you had all the time in the world, and you’ve never felt as safe as in this moment. Your muscles were lax, your mind quiet as you lost yourself in Yunho’s warmth and familiar cologne, cheeks burning brighter when you remembered that you hadn’t stopped wearing his hoodie ever since you accidentally took it. Thank the Universe you had changed out of it when you got home, or else you’d be beyond embarrassed about it.

“Oh, I cannot wait to get used to this,” Yunho whispered into the crown of your head, and you swore you felt your legs turn into a puddle as you turned your head into his neck, trying to refrain from giggling as you bit your bottom lip. You didn’t fight the feeling and pressed a swift kiss against his pulse point, making Yunho’s arms tighten around your torso. You would’ve never thought you’d do a one-eighty when it came to Yunho, but as your soulmate mark buzzed with warmth and electricity, you realized you were safe and looking ahead to a bright future.

Quite literally, since your soulmate was like the sun.

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rockingbytheseaside · 8 months ago

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Hii!! I love your writing sm like you’re literally my go to blog when I get bored and I end up rereading your fics 😋. Not sure if you have rules or anything so idk what I can and can’t request (IF YOU DO AND THIS ISN’T IN LINE WITH IT I’M SO SORRY.. 😭).

Could I request the harbingers crushing on reader? Like I can imagine them being slightly more lenient with reader which confuses most of the soldiers. Again feel free to ignore this 💗‼️‼️

(giggling and kicking my feet rn, this is the type of partially-satirical fluff I headcanon. Hope you like it)

✦ When they secretly have a crush on you

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe

✧ The ever-cold and impeccable Pierro – a mystery that even his associates and top harbingers cannot decipher. Not many can be considered as his close confidants, so none is certain of his personal life and preferences. A cold, stern man like The Jester probably doesn’t waste a glance on frivolous affairs or pleasantries. Even if many high-status people tried to approach him - aristocrats, business partners, or noble ladies; his cold gaze shuts off any initiation for close relations. No, he sees their greed for power too clearly to be swayed.

Yet Pierro harbors a deep secret. He does fancy a type… and that type is you.

It’s not simply your physical attributes or style, his ‘type’ is literally everything you embody. The shape of your jawline when you lower your face, the delicate shadow your eyelashes cast on your cheeks, how your chest moves when you take a deep sigh. From the minor and inconsequential attributes, he memorized it to his heart until the only thing his gaze is seeking is you across the room. He was always silently enamored, his eyes watching you with reverence. However, he is a mastermind, first and foremost. Concealing his inner sonnets for his love for you came naturally just as he conceals half of his face with a Khaenri’ahn mask.

You, on the other hand, were oblivious. Nervous, even. Facing off the most powerful man, cursed with immortality just as you all those centuries felt intimidating, especially when you couldn’t grasp why his gaze kept lingering so melancholically.

“It is… good to see you again, Pierro,” – that was your initial words when the two of you spoke formally. In truth, your mind was filled with wistful thoughts: he probably settled down with someone after 500 years of immortality.

In the meantime, Pierro’s mind was at comical odds with his cold exterior as he thought: Hmmm… Yes, I’ve already decided on the name of our potential third child.

But of course, he didn’t say that, even if he looked slightly mesmerized. Instead, he just settled with a polite: “A pleasure, indeed”. It's only a matter of time before he accidentally slips and calls you his spouse in front of people.

✧ Il Capitano was avoiding you like the plague, and you couldn't fathom why. Whenever you crossed paths, his oppressive silence would intimidate you further. He would linger behind you, a looming presence so quiet that at times, you’d forget he was even there. Alas, when you finally muster up the courage to approach him directly, he'd respond with the briefest of words, avoiding any attempts of chatter.

It infuriated you. So much so that you started wondering if perhaps you did something wrong. He sparred with you countless times, the taste of a battlefield is nothing foreign when he trained alongside you. You felt like a stranger. Why he was so eerily silent was beyond your comprehension, and alas, his pitch-black expression did not portray any facial clues on what he was thinking.

The truth of the matter is that Capitano has mastered the art of keeping his head impassively still. With a helmet on his face and lack of visage, no one sees his gaze ogling your form whenever you train. Your movements mesmerize him during battles, your legs swift and your stance is powerful. Of course, he would be silent when he is staring directly at your beauty in action. You rendered him speechless, and now the Harbinger is diverting himself by discreetly peeking at you. Thank the archons for his helmet hiding his gaze.

But the Captain scolds himself. No, he mustn’t! It is improper of him to even lay his eyes upon a being so diligent and strong as you, he must respect-… Nope, his head is automatically turning towards you anyway. Lost in his silent battle of self-reprimand, he didn’t notice you suddenly approaching:

“Captain, we need to talk. What is the reason for your cold shoulder towards me? If I have done something improper you must tell me… You always avoid me, even when we’re supposed to cooperate.”

The same characteristic silence followed him, however, seeing you cornering him so sternly, even the Harbinger had to drop his resolve.

“...You must forgive me. Your beauty had overwhelmed me to such an extent that I felt ashamed to admit how you rendered me speechless to approach you.”

✧ A long time ago, before Il Dottore bore the title of a Harbinger, there was a young boy named Zandik. This little Zandik was trainee Dastur, a prodigy of his field and academic year. But he wasn't the only top student of the Akademiya, in fact, this young man was standing in the shadow of a brilliant senior student whom he always looked up to with innocent wonder – you.

You weren't aware of the younger student with short turquoise hair trailing you. He, however, was aware of you because your portrait often graced the accomplishments of the establishment, thesis research, and any academic honors of the top young researchers. Since you were a senior, Zandik couldn’t share lectures with you, yet it didn’t stall him. Every thesis bearing your name, he read; every book you borrowed from the House of Daena, he memorized meticulously. His revenant studies of everything you did mesmerized his young mind, leading him to linger behind the lecture hall doors, drawn to where you so often spent your time.

It was a harmless habit, the boy believed; surely you never noticed him?

One day, Zandik spotted you chatting with your peers in the hallway. Unfortunately for you, you inadvertently left behind your precious notebook, forgotten in the rush to your next class. The young man didn't have it in himself to run after you and directly return it. Instead, it was his chance to study your secrets. His hands hesitated only briefly before he grasped the notebook, feeling the weight of the handwriting he so admired.

When he first opened the notebook, the first page read in massive writing: “I KNOW YOU'RE STEALING MY NOTES – THIEF.”

That was approximately 400 years ago. So much so that the memories of your student self were long forgotten in your mind. When you later on met the 2nd of the Fatui Harbinger, you expected the Fatuus to coerce you for cooperation. To demand you to leverage your expertise in Khaenri'ahn technology, or perhaps blackmail you into his maddening cause. But none of that transpired.

The grown man, now known as Il Dottore, stood blankly in front of you, eerily placid. His once youthful awe had matured into something far more inscrutable, like a long-buried sincerity breaking through his Doctor’s mask. Without a word, he extended a hand, offering you an old, tattered notebook. It was that same old notebook from your Akademiya days.

“... Huh? Where did you get this?”

“Perhaps a young boy was too excited to pilfer what wasn't his. I apologize for borrowing it. That boy never wanted his idol to think of him as a thief. If it wasn't so arduous to seek you out all those centuries, I would've returned it to you earlier.”

✧ With his face perched on his knuckles, Scaramouche sat down listening to your ramblings. You would think a Harbinger with his temper, would long since exhausted his patience, waving you off to scram from his presence. Yet the moment you start talking, he is obediently listening, like a devoted man waiting for his blessing from the Grand Narukami Shrine

“But I never saw you enjoy any snacks or drinks while you’re out,” – you mused with excitement, launching on a tangent about this mysterious Inazuman beside you. “Oh! How about this, I’ll start guessing your favorite pastime food or beverage and you tell me if I am right or wrong.”

Scaramouche raised an eyebrow, but crossed his arms indifferently - “A futile endeavor but suit yourself anyway.”

Undeterred, you accepted the challenge. You listed each and every single delicacy in Teyvat that you could recall, from Inazuman mochi, dango, and sake to even Mondstadt’s Cold Cut Platter and wine. The Balladeer only scoffed, amused at your silly attempts to deduce him, as if he was some mystery you should decipher.

“Ugh, Okay! My last attempt. Is it… green tea?!”

Scaramouche went silent at the sight of your anticipation - “Hm,”

“No way… did I guess correctly, at last! Are you a herbal tea enthusiast? Oh, I knew it, I knew it!”

You exclaimed with unattained joy, leaving the Balladeer to silently observe your self-proclaimed victory. The truth of the matter is - that wasn't the correct answer. Scaramouche doesn't care for any teas or snacks, not when his artificial palettes found human indulgences to be redundant. Yet, looking at your jubilant face, glowing with delight as if you’d uncovered some profound world secrets, he couldn’t bring himself to confess. How foolish.

“Hah, fine, you got me. You must be thrilled to guess something so mundane.”

“Well, maybe mundane to you, but I was pretty curious what a living puppet would prefer to drink.”

Your sudden words caused Scaramouche to freeze. He never told you he was a puppet by nature, and most people would never guess what he is. Yet here you were, stating it so simply and obviously. Most ridiculously, you didn’t seem crestfallen by the weight of this truth. “You knew…? I'm not sure if I should compliment your keen observation, or if this is another one of your random guesses. What gave it away?”

“I thought it was obvious.” - you eased a sincere smile, your hand reaching to carefully brush a stray hair on his head. “No regular human would have such a perfectly pristine face like yours. Even if they had the most luxurious face-care routine.”

If puppets had blood flow, there would've been a pink hue dusting his cheeks. It seems he was the fool here after all. Ever since that day, he has found the taste of green tea to be rather soothing.

✧ A popular misconception about Pantalone is that he allowed you to walk into his life and pursue him so easily. Trully wrong. In reality, it was this Harbinger who had been pursuing and courting you from the very beginning - like a lovestruck fool, no less.

At first, Pantalone tried to be the charmer. He’d offer you heavy bags of Mora as if it was pocket change and say in his best alluring voice - “Go spoil yourself with something new, dear. I want you to look your best on our next date.”

The issue was you were dense like a rock. Because you blinked at the mora and said simply: “Why? I already have comfortable clothes, I don’t need any right now.”

He wanted to slap himself. Any attempts at spoiling you with riches or gifts were futile, especially when you humbly rejected his monetary help out of casual practicality. You always stated that others in need would require it more. Very well, he won’t sulk just yet. He decided on his next act of refinement. He’d invite you with him to any luxurious events: galas, opera performances, dinner parties; all carefully orchestrated to impress you, showcasing how he can provide you with any wonder from the world, linking his arm elegantly with yours to flaunt how you’re accompanying the 9th of Fatui Harbingers himself.

That didn’t work as well. Whenever a business meeting occurred with vital connections, your gaze bore no interest in the wealth of the higher class, nor did you beat around the bush to dismiss yourself. Instead of marveling at the company of riches and endless champagne flutes, he’d instead find you marveling at the ducks swimming in the pond of a garden – “Look, duckies!”

Pantalone was in visible distress. All this gold that people die for yet you so naively dismissed him. Was he unworthy of your simple love? Was he too pompous for you and forgot his own origins? His self-doubt gnawed at him at night, so much so that his own subordinate would see him pacing in his office with a tremor of restlessness, thinking how he should open this topic with one he so openly treasures.

“My dear, please tell me what your heart seeks,” – he once opened the discussion with you, his hand clasping yours in an act of pleading. “I do not wish you to be uncomfortable with my actions. Just say the word and I will bring you what you want.”

Once more, you blinked at him in that same sweet innocence, but instead, you spoke with a smile: “Oh, you silly, silly man Pantalone. I never wanted your mora or status. I do not wish to be indebted to you, no. I just wish you to be as you are. If you want to take me to a restaurant, take me there, not because it’s a fancy establishment, but because it has your favorite food. Plain and simple.”

The young Harbinger didn’t know it was possible to fall in love even more. It seems he mistook your humble sincerity with naivety, never once pondering that perhaps you didn’t want a partner for the sake of connection or money. That being his true self was something he could even offer you.

In the upcoming days, Pantalone’s subordinate could clearly see was smitten beyond logic or reason. Like a grinning child, resting his chin on his palm when sitting behind a desk, feet almost kicking with excitement. He really was enamored with you from the start.

✧ If there is one thing Tartaglia’s heart relishes, it’s the rush of a challenge. And you, as a whole, challenged this young man on a daily basis. His bubbling persona and eccentricity to rush into action was an antithesis to your blunt calmness and reason. If he is the one launching into battle, you are the one who is yanking him by the collar while maintaining that unimpressed look.

Thus, as a challenge, Childe took it upon himself to make you break that serene attitude from you. At least once, and his heart will soar with victory. Unbeknownst to him, everything he did fumbled.

He started with cheesy attempts to flirt with you, flipping his ginger hair back while leaning on the wall with a captivating smile to make sure your eyes were on his form alone. It might have made you swoon, if he hadn’t miscalculated and leaned against the door instead, stumbling awkwardly when it swung open.

Another attempt was made when he tried to play the savior. The two of you were strolling when a Hydro Hilichurl Rogue stumbled upon your path in the wild, its makeshift scythe warning you two to get away. For the Harbinger, this was an easy opportunity to dispel such a puny target and save you. Except the Hilichurl Rogue kept throwing hydro slimes, which his vision of the same element was useless against. You managed to drag Tartaglia (almost) unscathed.

Everything was going against Tartaglia’s luck and he felt like an utter failure in front of you. He’s the 11th, for crying out loud, he always fairs well when something challenges him. Yet here he is, getting bandaged by you after fumbling countless times in your presence. Your first impression of him must be beyond salvageable at this point.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought you’re a problematic teen who gets into trouble all the time. Because you sure act like it,” – you stated to him simply. Securing his cuts and bruises on his shoulder.

“If I confess that such accidents rarely happen, would that change your opinion of me, or is it too late to start from zero? Ouch-” he winced when you tightened the bandages, his bruises not alleviating the sensation. The culpability of it all made him sulk, realizing he was probably putting you into trouble with all his shenanigans. “I’d die for you, you know.”

“That is the dumbest thing I've heard.”

Your words were concrete, his gaze averted with guilt and sorrow. But you continued quaintly.

“Why would anyone say something so senseless? I don’t want you to ‘die’ for me or anyone, even. What about ‘keep living’ for someone? For me… for your family, for yourself. Anyone can blindly plunge themselves to their death, but it takes actual courage and strength to keep living for those you care about. So please, do that for me instead of getting into trouble.”

The once serious expression on Tartaglia's softened with each word you spoke. Now he realizes that perhaps you putting up with his impulsivity stemmed not from frustration, but out of sincere worry. Maybe in his attempt to charm you, you were the one charming him all along. Especially when you sit so close to tend to him, it would feel so natural to wrap his arm around and embrace you.

“You’re right… I suppose it is reckless. Living for yourself seems truly priceless if it means seeing you beside me for another day.”

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acid-ixx · 9 months ago

Text

to you, my greatest passion (soft yandere! batfam x traumatized! reader oneshot)

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

tw: allusions to stockholm syndrome, flawed relationship (they have no concept of boundaries) and mild descriptions of injuries and torture (not by the batfam). read until the end for an author's note. happy 4k followers to me :)) uh leave comments if u like this type of analysis and want to see more. i had no direction for writing this. please don't let this flop huhu i might delete this since i don't like it

as much as i love my angst, we all need something soft at times, and moments with yan!batfam with a reader who is absolutely fucking broken from their past that the mere implication that someone could love them is enough to let them melt into whoever's chest they lay upon that night.

just, hurt/comfort. one that heals the soul in its overly possessive embrace. the same way chapped lips peck softly on your cheeks, muscled arms caress your fragile, shivering body, and legs tangle upon yours in a cacophony of warm, cozy blankets.

where as the longer time passes in the manor, the more you learn to love. to let go of the painful memories your tormenters left you. to allow past scars to heal into a mere visage of what once was streaks coated in blood. your family acts as your new abductors, yes, but how could you hold your freedom against them when it is them that comfort you from drowning through the deepest depths of your nightmares?

nightmares of the past, of the knives that break through your already gashed skin, or the ropes that burn through bruises and laceration— every time you wake up crying, with tears running down your cheeks and a pained cry; a recollection of the torture you were subject to, it is them that come running to your room not a moment after.

it's bruce's tall, domineering form that crumbles into soft, snug pillows for you. your father arms that punches criminals into prison become the shoulder you lean on. calloused fingers rub your cheeks, wiping away your tears, holding your face in his palms like you're the most fragile thing on earth— and you are. every time he looks at your dampened eyes and sniffling nose, he gets reminded of how lonely he was as a child, who lost his parent too young to the cruelty of the world, of gotham and her unyielding coldness. and when he reminisces, he begins to cage you in his arms a tad bit tighter, begins to comfort you longer and softer than he has ever done with anyone else, as if he is reassuring himself. it is with you that his vulnerability, that fear of loss becomes all too stronger. and every time you cry a bit longer, your hold on his sleeves becoming unyielding, does bruce become crueler in his pursuit of fighting crime, a lesson to himself that the people he punishes are those with hands capable enough to harm you, his precious, his pearl that glints throughout the moonlight.

whenever your father is unavailable, it's dick who runs to you, with all the intention to provide you comfort. it's him who calls you his baby bird, as he reassures you that you're no burden in his eyes every time you scream in terror as your sleep. it's him who loves to drown you in his affection, always near, always close, never far and never too much. physically, he's the most doting to a fault. tender, yet tight were his hugs. his kisses to your cheeks and your forehead always linger, as if hesitant to release itself from its rightful place. it's a testiment to how much he loves you, how he's incapable of separating himself from you. god, he loves you so much he wishes he'd just melt right into your skin, so that you actually finally realize how you're the most important thing in the world to him. you, his baby bird. if he had met you sooner, quite earlier, right after his parent's have died, then maybe he could've managed his anger better, could've learned to cope with you through the battles you both fought. it's with you that dick feel unbearably euphoric, ready to spill his love to the point where tears consume his eyes and his head laid on your chest refuses to detach itself.

jason isn't familiar with what warmth feels like, not anymore. but when he sees your hapless state, he sees a reflection of himself in that abandoned warehouse. broken, defiled, hurt. with nothing to comfort you from the cold other than the ropes that burn through your skin and the adrenaline that runs through your veins. he forgots what solace feels like, what it means, but through your shared trauma does jason learn. he learns to talk to you, with you, learns to pinpoint each and every emotion he felt at the time, what you felt inside that putrid basement. he learns to manage his grief because he doesn't want to anger himself looking at you, at just how much justice can only serve so many. the longer you talk to jason, the more he becomes softer, yet hungrier. he learns how to hold you in a way a brother learns to hold his baby sibling for the first time when conceived. he relearns the warmth he felt, like when he was finally able to be good enough to be the successor to the title of robin, when he felt you drool on his chest when you trusted him enough to sleep in his room. yet this time that feeling was accompanied with that ominous, distracting essence. one that makes jason's knuckles crack and have him prepare his guns, as he discovers that you can never truly erase the past. and even though it might take years for him to be your ideal brother, he could at least be your sole protector.

then there's tim, who never truly had the opportunity to develop that deeper sense of love he wanted to feel until he was officially adopted into the wayne family right after his parents' death. don't get him wrong, he loves his mom and dad, and so does he loves his current family— but it's obsession that drives him nonetheless. the need to prove himself, to gather information about everyone to know who they truly are; beyond that there's nothing more than shallowness, a neverending hole he can't satisfy. but with you? oh god, you. to tim, you're his everything. you devour his being whole. with you, there's always something new. the need to track every single thing about you leads him into this cycle of want and need that coagulates into desire, into drive. every time you smile, or laugh, or frown, he gains newer intel about you, one he loops into the deepest crevices of his brain at a constant, you are his constant. but staying right behind you can only do so much. and as he sits right beside you in bed, awkwardly comforting you through the ways he mirrored off from his brothers: a sloppy kiss to your knuckles, a joke cracked here and there, and wiping your eyes and nose with his sleeves; tim learns that stalking can only do so much. he learns what it feels like to be needed for emotional connection and nothing else and that only further motivates him to be perfect for you, and to be with you, his sibling, more often than to simply live right under your nose.

and damian, your baby brother, who's unsurprisingly the one who sleeps in your room, or has you sleep in his room, the most. damian tells himself he's incapable of love, of showing it or reciprocating it. but for you, he tries, and like jason, he learns. he discovers just how depraved both of you are when it comes to love. it enlightens you both and it makes damian feel a deeper sense of connection with you than anyone else. with you, he feels like a child: vulnerable, yet uncaring and free, like the true meaning of being a robin, one the soars through the skies with no grandfather or mother or league to watch your every step as their successor. all the times you cry, he silently sobs with you, holding your cheeks down to his level with scarred palms. silent, yet comforting, he'd allow his smaller form to simply become your teddy bear whilst he whispers consolations. about how strong his older sibling is, how precious you are for being comfortable with him to speak of your problems, how you're everything to damian just as he wishes to be the world for you. it makes you think you're more immature that him, it makes him grateful that he has you. even though he doesn't say it, he shows through actions just how truly important you are whenever he draws a sword towards his enemies, thinking about you and his unsaid promises.

nights where you're reminded of that solitary confinement, of the darkness that creeps into your vision and the voices that pierce through your ears. nights where you feel you've exhausted yourself of hope, where what was once warmth that hugs your heart is now that frigid, yet burning spikes that penetrates into the confidence that you'll somehow, someday, run away from that hellhole— those were nights you thought you'd never live with proper sleep. but as one or two of them holds you in their embrace whenever your nightmares consume your being, you're slowly allowing your established walls to fall apart, all for the mere implication of their love.

who would save you, if not for them? their hushed whispers of consolation, hands that wrap around your figure, and fingers that knead your cheeks provide you that deep sated comfort you always wanted. the sleeves they use to wipe away both saltine liquid and snot, to slowly silence your blubbering rambles, your inconsolable crying; it's warmer than the basement you used to be locked in as a child, with dripping faucets the only source of your water— they saved you once before, who's to say they won't save you a thousand times more?

every time you feel like crying, every time that familiar faulty tap in your eyes begins to dampen against ashen skin, it's them that asks you if you're alright. even if you grit your teeth, even if you seeth or bite or beat or punch or kick, to punish yourself, to cope through the trauma, to not feel nothing.

every time pain begins to sear through your skin, it's your grandfather, father, brothers and sisters that huddle around you and tell you 'you're safe here, in the manor, with us'.

every time they spend hours, ditching patrol nights, cooking your comfort food, reading your favorite books, watching movies for hours, ignoring your assigned sleep schedule, kissing your scarred hands gently, reverently, cuddling your form against their strong ones as a silent promise that with them, there's nothing to harm you no more— you'd feel lighter every time, a tad happier, even. slowly, but surely, melting against the confines of your adorned cage and the embrace of your loving captors.

every time they help you heal, it makes you forgive, and it makes you forget their prior kidnapping in return of building new memories with them, in a safer haven, with nobody to hurt you any longer, with nobody to bash your head against concrete walls, to punish you. you who is underserving of the circumstances bought upon you back then.

safe, a word you thought you'll never feel, a word you didn't even know existed in the crevices of your heart. but it is with them that you slowly start to associate safe with family.

the family that you've come to love and cherish in your own imperfect ways, the same way a stray dog becomes too loyal to a passerby when given bones for leftovers every day.

but you're not an animal, and you're not a pavlovian dog meant to be conditioned. no, you're their baby, their love, their treasure and their only one. the love they feed you exceeds beyond leftovers. only you can devour them wholly, the same way they cloak your world in the love that fills that neverending pit in your heart.

you're not biologically related to any of them in any way, too. yet it was all a matter of coincidence that they stumbled upon you.

but really, past is past.

then is then.

now it's just you and them.

it's you, with them.

just your family. overbearing, overprotective, overpowering.

but nothing is always over to you. their love isn't too much. how could you tell yourself it's too much? not when you were never given a basis of what is too much. how is one too much when you were never even given enough?

trust is built upon a foundation of connecting with others who can relate with you one way or another, who can see past through your flaws and mistakes— it's a bond that precedes mere acquaintanceship.

you might've met them later than everyone else, but it's you that completes them.

you're the puzzle that completes the family photographs, the goal for bruce to continue his legacy as batman and to ward off all evil, the inspiration for dick to be that aspiring hero everyone sees him to be, the reason jason begins to reform himself for your sake, the purpose for tim's endless pursuit of knowledge, the muse for damian's painting, the subject for his love he thought was no more, the ambition for steph's prolongation despite her countless of failures, the motivation for barbara to seek out all the criminals who have harmed you, the influence for cass to be stronger to protect you, the catalyst for duke to use his metahuman abilities for good, to take out those who walk in broad daylight, as if they weren't involved in your past tortures.

you're everything that they are.

their sunshine and moonlight, their companionship and loneliness, their pain and pleasure, their yin and yan.

their greatest passion.

a/n: hii guys erm. this is so sudden and also counts as a rant but yk... i feel like quitting this blog but at the same time not. it's just, i feel like writing has been more of an obligation than anything else. it doesn't help the fact that i've only been getting interaction if i were to actually produce something good. beyond that, it feels like people are expecting more of me. i get it, updates are sporadic, they appear in the blink of an eye when you least expect it, but at the same time it's just hard juggling what i want to write and what i feel like i need to write. this blog was primarily to post about my thoughts and to talk to people but lately, every time i open this app to write, i feel these plethora of thoughts and expectations telling me that if i don't do well enough then people would merely ignore whatever i post or it's just bad by standards. and yes i'm grateful for all the people supporting my writing, but at the same time i'm lead to a cycle of me losing my motivation to continue writing. ugh idk what im doing anymore help :((

tl;dr: will i stop writing? no, but at the same time i don't know. someday, i may deactivate this account out of impulse if i feel too much, or not. it depends hehe.

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hanafubukki · 16 days ago

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I can imagine Yuu feeling a tad bit heartbroken seeing Malleus's broken horns but mayb he explains to them,

"Don't mourn the power I lost so no need to shed your tears for me. Matter of fact, I ought to pay Shroud in kind for this. I can express joy without setting the world ablaze, I can cry without causing a blizzard, and I can finally get angry without causing an earthquake! I feel so free now! Plus, it's a horn. Much like with your hair, it'll grow back."

Hello Dorkus 💚🌺💞

The Malleus loosing his horn feels are still strong 😭💔

But he’s happy, so we’re happy. But in the end, he still got hurt and that guilt I can still see be there whether from family and/or friends.

Summary: Malleus eases your burden.

You keep looking at his horn. You can’t help it.

It shouldn’t have come to this. You knew it was for the best. Yet, just like the others, you couldn’t help the tinge of guilt whenever you saw Malleus’ broken horn.

“Am I a captive animal for you to stare at in such a way?”

You startle before shaking your head, “No! It’s not that at all.”

“I merely jest. Breaking the ice as Lilia would say. You seemed to have developed a fascination for my horns more so than my tail now. What fascinates you?”

You couldn’t look him in the eyes. How? How do you tell him? This guilt you have. Something that’s irrational but there anyways?

“You feel burdened by my broken horn.”

You look at him with widened eyes. The face before you is soft and understanding-it’s a look you haven’t ever seen on him before.

“You are not the only one to feel this way. Silver and Sebek have been skittish around me. They behave as if one mistake would lead to treasonous acts against me.”

He walks ahead of you before turning towards you. The sight before you leaves you breathless. The moon shines on him. Giving him an unearthly glow that only fae kind can exhibit-no, only he could present as his tail appears in a swirl and scales appear along his back.

The fae that stood before you was not a simple classmate of yours nor did he portray a prince. No, Malleus Draconia right now shone like a God descended from the heavens.

Did the damage to his horn mean he couldn’t hide his draconic features anymore? How could one who lost so much be able to stand in such a celestial form? When to others, he seemed to be a dragon dragged from the heavens and tamed?

“You do not need to feel burdened by the power I lost. Matter of fact, Shroud has provided me a boon.”

Malleus raised his face to the moon’s light as if seeking comfort from an old friend.

“For many years, all I have known is isolation. Numbness. I could never cry, laugh, or anger easily. To do so meant bringing harm to those around me.”

“It was,” Malleus hesitated, as if the words were new to him, “…difficult.”

When he turned towards you then, you are surprised to see his eyes worn despite his ethereal visage.

“What you humans take for granted, I was never allowed. But now?” Malleus chuckled, “Now I can be free to be who I am.”

Malleus offered his hand, beckoning you to lay yours on top of his, “Come, Child of Man, lay your worries to rest.”

He smirked at you, “Unless you prefer me when I’m dark and dreary?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that came out, “Pffft hahaha I prefer you however you want to be.”

You laid your hand on top of his, “I want you to be happy Tsunotaro.”

“I am.”

You smiled widely at him. The gleam in your eyes has his crinkling in return.

There’s the smile I adore from My Child of Man.

….I have no idea where that description about Malleus in the middle passages came from but *pokes at brain* brain do it more. I demand it. Lolol 😆💚💞 (randomly had inspiration for this and I ran lol)

Malleus the fae that you are 😭💞💙 You’ve been through so much but stayed kind despite it all. 🥺🥺

I hope you liked this Dorkus 💙💙💚💚🫂🫂

#answered #🌺dorkus🌺#malleus draconia #diasomnia #twst malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #twst malleus draconia x reader #twst x reader #twst wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x you #twisted wonderland #twst drabbles #twst fluff #twst scenarios #malleus draconia x you #malleus x reader

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onmyyan · 9 months ago

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hi again i'm the Anon who asked if you take commisions only or requests as well. I love your writing style<3

Soo could you write about Batmom reader, where reader took care of bruce's children as her own. But then bruce gets a mistress, reader still stays becuz of the kids but when everyone started to become cold to her and insult her ' X (mistress) is better mom then you ever were' she leaves gonthem. Then everyone realises she (mistress) was just after their money. They go to batmom's room to apologize only to find it empty. They try to find her everywhere but couldn't. And finally when they do, reader rejects them since she was having the time of her life without responsibilty but gets kiddnapped by the batfam?

Honestly i wanted to commision but i'm flat broke and i'm too busy studying to work and on top of that i don't have my own phone (i use my dad's old laptop) soo yeah... I hope you consider this.

A/N: Loooove this request thank you for sending it in <3 fem reader yandere themes lmk if you want a part two

The (L/n)'s were a wealthy and prominent family in Gotham, right up there with the Wayne's when it came to power over the city, the two families were in business together which is why when Bruce Wayne personal attorney came to you with a marriage proposal, you weren't surprised.

A marriage of convenience. You thought you knew what this would entitle, you knew this wasn't out of love, that this was required of you, it had nothing to do with what you actually wanted, but you were dutiful and signed, inking your name on the paper felt like a deal with the devil.

Bruce hadn't bothered to officially meet you until the day of the wedding, it was beautiful and well done but lacking any form of love of affection, CEOs and other rich folk you didn't recognize filled the pews, the ring felt cold when he slipped it on, his vows perfectly rehearsed, and not an ounce of warmth in his eyes, you knew that night you should have annulled the marriage, but something made you hold on, something your mother had said to you as the makeup artist turned you into the visage of a bride.

"You'll learn to love each other, your father and I did after all." And she wasn't lying, your parents married for convenience as well but had grown to love one another, so maybe you could do the same?

A year after the nuptials Dick Grayson is thrust into your life. Haley's circus was famous in Gotham for its incredible death defying shows, but on this night death would walk the stage, taking with them Dick Grayson's parents in a horrible display, You and Bruce had consoled the boy for only a moment before Bruce was talking to the officers, he'd decided Dick was coming home with you, of course without asking your opinion, but it didn't matter, you felt such pity and grief for the boy, it made perfect sense to you, he was shut down for the first few months, he called you by your name and you had no problem with it, making it clear you never wanted to try and replace his mother, the ice between you two melted one day, one kind word at a time, he couldn't help but confide in you about school or his friends, because you were more emotionally there than Bruce was.

Like the night you caught him sneaking out, a packed bag in hand and the keys to one of Bruce's many cars in his hand. Instead of yelling for Bruce or Alfred you simply smiled at him, "you should take the audi, it's the safest car here."

"..You're not going to try and stop me?"

You shake your head no, still offering that kind smile.

"You know yourself best Dick, if you're unhappy here I won't stop you from finding your peace." He took a moment before tossing you the keys and reluctantly making his way back inside.

You find out about Batman because of Dick. He'd come home with some nasty bruises and it wouldn't take long to put two and two together. Them both being missing at the same time, Dick started to pull away from you, one night, after hours of trying to get to sleep in a bed much to big for one body, your legs decided a walk was necessary, the halls were dark and quiet, giving the manor an eerie air, quietly you walked the long hallways intending on stopping by the library, as you turned the corner you seen Dick in a hidden elevator, the doors just slamming shut as your eyes tried to register what was there. Seconds after the doors close a wall appears, as if nothing was ever there. It's not long after that you see a brief news clip of the caped crusader and his new sidekick, because the longer you stared at the screen, the more familiar they began to look, that dead tight lipped scowl on Batman's face, it was one you'd had the pleasure of looking at for the past few years.

That night you confronted Bruce, he seemed surprised you'd figured it out, but he didn't deny it. Simply saying, "It's late (Y/n), get some sleep."

You nearly divorced him then and there for endangering a child the way he was, but after a moment of thought, you realized Dick would need a real parent around so you stayed, making Bruce swear to be careful.

Jason comes next and he takes to you a lot faster than Dick. He craved the warmth you offered, you two had inside jokes and a closer relationship than him and Bruce, but that all changes the day he dies. You're broken, a ghost haunting the manor with your presence, and Bruce is no comfort throwing himself into the Batman role, you begin to hate him a little with this particular betrayal.

Tim was another hard egg to crack but you were desperate after Jason's death, so you took his verbal lashings with a smile, were always there to offer a helping hand with any of his projects despite the help never being accepted. Tims wound from losing his father is too raw, he takes a lot of his anger out on you. And you weathered the storm with a soft, warm smile.

Damian hated you, from the moment he arrives, which is bitter enough as is because it meant Bruce was unfaithful, he's spitting out insults and comparing you to his 'perfect' mother.

Things weren't great in your life, but one day they started getting noticably worse. Dick no longer responded to your check in texts, Jason (now reanimated which was a heart attack in and of itself) saw you as the enemy, you didn't leave Bruce after what happened to him, so in his eyes you betrayed him, Tim ignored your existence as best as he could, and Damian? He'd started staring at you with this smug look on his face, like he knew something you didn't.

Bruce had all but ran from you, he didn't sleep in your shared room anymore, he barely spoke to you at breakfast, if it wasn't for the cameras he wouldn't touch you.

And it's all because of a woman named Rachel.

Apparently Bruce had introduced this woman to the family, bringing her around when you weren't, slowly replacing you, it was no wonder they started to pull back.

Alfred is the only reason you find out, having enough of the blatant disrespect, he calls you to come home early one day saying it's a dire matter. Of course you comply, and walk in on a discomforting sight. The whole family was gathered at the dining room table, plus a woman you'd never seen before, she sat close to Bruce, toying with his hand intimately. Her green eyes lock with yours and the smile she gives you forms a pit in your stomach.

There's silence before Bruce stands up, he walks over calmly, "Can we take this in the other room." But it wasn't phrased as a question.

"No" you licked your lips, a nervous habit from your youth. Bruce seemed taken back by your sudden backbone. He nods silently.

"I want her gone Bruce. I am your wife. You will show me that semblance of respect."

"I- of course." You don't wait for the words to settle instead, you calmly walk to your room, face unreadable.

Locking the door behind you, your body slides against the frame, a silent sob wracks your frame, your hands covering your mouth, you wouldn't give them the satisfaction of hearing your cries.

The next morning you wake up to breakfast in bed, a generic yet elegant spread of food lay on a tray in the empty spot Bruce used to stay. The man himself sitting in the chair beside the bed, staring at you with that practiced smile he used to appease people.

"Good morning."

"What's this?" You sat up straight, sleep evaporating from your form as you took in the threat before you.

"An apology. I never meant for yesterday to happen."

"What a comfort that is." Your piercing (e/c) eyes stare at him blankly, unreadable. "How long."

"A year." You scoff pushing the breakfast away from you like it was poisonous. "But its not what you think, Rachel is a childhood friend, a year ago our relationship, evolved into what it is now, but I was never intending to go behind your back."

"Ah of course, your intentions were pure." The words dripped venom, grabbing your robe you quickly dress before standing and walking to the door, "Thank you for the wonderful talk Bruce, really your people skills are top notch." Your hands gesture to the door. He leaves without a word.

The rest of the day is as usual, Bruce avoids you like the plague, the rest of the family acted as if you weren't there. Which made leaving all too easy.

Your lawyers had the divorce papers ready and hour after you called them, signing them felt like the first act of self love you'd done in years. Slipping them into Bruce's study you took the time to analyze the room you never entered.

It matched Bruce that's for sure, pictures of every single person in the family. All except for you.

Walking out the door, wrapped in your ankle length black faux fur coat, the garment whipped in the wind, the designer sunglasses on your face hid your eyes from the world, hair in a slicked back bun, your heels echoed against the pavement, a sleek black car was waiting for you, you look back at the house that had caused you so much misery then got in the back of the car, never looking back.

Life goes on for about a week, your absence goes unnoticed, that is before Rachel is trying and failing to blackmail Bruce out of a billion dollars, she'd collected evidence he was cheating on you with her and presented it to Bruce with a grin, it was only as he went through the pictures of himself and Rachel, did he notice the yellow envelope with his name written on the front.

Hey puts the heartbreaking matter of Rachel's betrayal on the back burner, Bruce opened the envelope and felt his heart completely stop at the word divorce written in bold lettering across the top, your signature was already there, waiting for his to join it.

Ignoring Rachel completely now he turns in his chair, turning the paper over and over as if it would magically change. But it remained the same. Alfred knocking on the door of his study broke him from his trance. "Master Wayne, miss Rachel." He says the latter's name with no warmth. "Escort Rachel to her car Alfred."

"Bruce have you heard a word I've said? I'm serious I'll go to Gotham daily right now if you don't -"

"Now Alfred."

That was all it took for the screaming woman to be firmly escorted off the premises. Bruce all but ran to your room, he didn't bother knocking, and despite knowing in his heart you were already gone, he couldn't help but check anyway.

Your room was empty and cold, he couldn't believe the date he'd read on the divorce papers, it was dated a week ago, meaning you'd been gone for a week and he hadn't noticed. No one had.

That is until Bruce remembers there's someone in the house nothing gets by.

"How long have you known she was gone Alfred?" He asks leaning on his knuckles the divorce papers stared back at him taunting him. "Since the moment she left." The older man replied simply his hands behind his back. "Why didn't you tell me immediately?" Bruce felt himself tense, "Because you've hurt that woman enough Bruce. She deserves at least this." He gestures to the daunting divorce paperwork before turning to leave Bruce with his thoughts.

The news of Rachel's betrayal shook the manor each member feeling violated by their trust being broken. But it was nothing compared to their reaction once they finally realized you were gone.

"That was rough." Jason says after watching Rachel being dragged out of the manor, he blew air out of his cheeks arms crossed over his chest, he looked towards the hallway that lead to your room, you had to have heard that he thought to himself.

Dick sighs through his nose, "Someone should check on (y/n), Rachel was screaming so loud she definitely heard that." No one volunteers so Dick rolls his eyes and heads towards your room.

He lifts his hands to knock but noticed the door was open, pushing it further he's met with a baren room, his brow furrowed in confusion before he makes his way to Bruce's study. "Hey B, have you seen (y/n)? Her room is like weirdly empty."

Dick found his Father where Alfred left him, leaning over the divorce papers silently a storm in his eyes.

As he steps closer and reads the paperwork Bruce was staring so intently at, his heart stopped.

"Holy shit- are those real?"

"Yes." Bruce finally spoke his voice horse. There was a moment of silence before Dick left the room practically running down the stairs to alert the others.

"(Y/n) left Bruce." He said still processing the information, "No fuckin' way." Jason says pushing himself off the counter he leaned on. "Her room is empty and he has the papers, she's gone."

Each member of the family had different reactions to this information.

Dick tries calling you only to be met with a disconnected number, his heart hammering in his chest, he wasn't as close to you as when he was younger sure, but you were a constant in his life, always had been, a pillar of support, and suddenly you weren't. It felt like the floor had gotten pulled out from under him.

Jason curses under his breath, his mind working a mile a minute, he had barely spoken to you since his Resurrection, something he deeply regretted as the information of your leaving sinks in like a brick thrown into a river.

Tim, ever calculating is trying to figure out where you went, you were a figurehead in his life, someone that was literally never not there, sure he wasn't close to you in the slightest but that doesn't mean he wants anything to happen to you, someone as quiet and soft as you on your own in Gotham? It didn't sit well with him. Not one bit.

Damian didn't know what he was feeling at the news, he supposed he should feel nothing, after all you were nothing to him, but there was this nagging feeling in his chest that he couldn't quite place. And he hated it. How dare you leave and upset his fragile ecosystem?

Meanwhile in the Bahamas, far from Gotham and the neglectful family you'd left behind, you sat lounging on a private beach, a knitted hammock cradles your body, a designer baby pink bikini covers you, a matching sunhat protects your face from the hot sun, you can't wipe the smile from your face, humming a tune from your childhood you barely flinch when someone takes the seat besides your hammock.

"Do I want to know how you found me?" You ask, eyes still closed as you bask in the warmth. You knew only one person had the sources to find you on your own island, and despite how much you resent the man, even his presence can't ruin your shine in this moment.

"You're my wife (Y/n), I'll always know where you are." Bruce speaks softly as if trying not to startle you. "Former wife." You correct cracking an eye open, a small smirk curling on your lips.

"Not until I sign those papers- which I never will."

"huh, I thought you'd be thrilled." You muse to yourself before folding your tanning mirror and setting it aside, you take off your Louis Vuitton sunglasses, blinking your pretty (e/c) eyes up at him, "Figured you and your little Twinkie would have tied the knot by now." You laugh softly, the sound, unfamiliar to Bruce, sent warm shivers down his spine, it causes his lips to quirk up in a small grin.

"She's gone."

"Well, I don't care."

There's a beat of silence before he's offering you his hand. "Will you walk with me? I know I don't deserve it."

You sigh before getting up, ignoring his hand, you nod your head reluctantly, "Well? Hurry up I've got dinner at six."

His smile remains as he begins leading you along the shoreline. It's relatively quiet between you two as you walk side by side, a peace between you both you hadn't ever felt. "The manor isn't the same without you." He breaks the silence, "I sincerely doubt that." You laugh at the very notion. "It's true- it's colder, quieter, I want you to come home."

"That was never my home, you made that abundantly clear."

He winces as if your words cut him, "I know I haven't been a good man to you, I know I've failed you time and time again but I..I looked at those divorce papers and my heart stopped." He admits running a hand through his hair.

"You can't leave me."

"I can't?." You scoff, your movement halting, "I'm a grown woman- I'm taking responsibility for my own happiness, you can't stop me."

"I wasn't asking." He says softly, his hands in his pockets, he had this fond look on his face, like he was staring at you for the first time, in a whole new light. "You can't make me." You say, brows furrowed, "You belong back home, you're supposed to be with me, till death do us part, remember?" He steps forward making you step back, your eyes wide, hands shaking, you back into a wide chest, spinning to face Dick, who's grinning at you, he's in his Nightwing costume, he gives you a small wave of his hand, you scrunch your face in confusion, "What the hell-" your thought is cut off by a small pinch in your neck, the needle in Bruce's hand is empty in seconds, he's cradling your stumbling form, holding you tightly, "Don't worry - I'll fix this."

Your sleeping body is gently carried to the batplane, Bruce holding you close to his chest as Dick pilots the plane, he whispers promises into your hair, rocking you against him as he swears on his life to make things right, weather you liked it or not.

#yananswers #anon submission #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere dc imagine #yandere dc x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere batfamily #yandere bruce wayne x reader #yandere jason todd x reader #yandere dick grayson x reader #yandere tim drake x reader #yandere damian wayne x reader

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 10 months ago

Text

blushing birthday

a/n: iihhh! first story in this slutty au! felt like this was a good place to jump off from. and also, i just wanna point this out because i nearly never do and perhaps some people don’t realise it, but if you have a thought, an idea, a wish or request in this au (or any other, my inbox is always open for requests) then feel free to click on my ask button and send it my way ♡

summary: “so, what I was thinking,” you tilted your head, “was that before I go give him his present, you guys could maybe help me prep a little bit, warm me up and stretch out my ass enough to fit his big fat cock. Would you guys like that?”

warnings: various x camgirl!reader, smut, porn au, college au, roommate!bucky barnes, roommate!steve rogers, roommate!curtis everett, ex!ransom drysdale, dilf neighbour!andy barber, reader's porn name is cherry blossom (UrLittleCherry), friends with benefits, happy hippie fun poly vibes, curtis’ birthday, partying, alcohol consumption, kissing, masturbation, impact play, fingering, toys, edging, clothed sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, multiple orgasms, anal, penetrative sex, unprotected sex

word count: 3953

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

sugar & spice au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

masterlist | join my taglist

The last rays of sunshine for the day streamed in through the half-drawn curtains and cast soft shadows across your form as you sat cross-legged on your mattress.

With your reach outstretched towards your laptop propped up on the chair situated at the foot of your bed, you clicked on the go live button and watched as a countdown appeared on the screen, overlaying your visage staring back at you as your gaze briefly flickered around to check your gear one last time.

Thanks to your three roommates who’d insisted on helping you upgrade your setup, there wasn’t just one, but two cameras pointing directly at you. One angle to catch all of your frame and one zoomed-in to capture a perfect close-up between your legs.

“Hey guys!” a warm smile swiftly dazzled your features as you watched the first few people jump at your notification, “good evening or good–, whatever time of day it is for you.”

The messages in the chat started rolling in, some with usernames you recognised and some you didn’t.

TheFrogo: Hi Cherry! How are you? Have you had a good day so far?

DrownByPussy: Omg you’re finally live! I’ve been hard all day knowing I’d get to see you today.

“Hi Frogo, yeah, I’ve had a pretty good day, but I’m hoping that it might get even better, because I’ve got something pretty fun planned for tonight,” your hands absentmindedly fidgeted along the length of your legs as you spoke, “so, today is a friend of mine’s birthday and–, wait,” you paused and leaned in closer to catch a better look of the scrolling messages, “I haven’t seen you write in the chat yet, but birthday boy, if you’re here, you better log off right now or you’ll ruin your surprise,” you warned, glancing straight into the camera, “I’ll give you five seconds get off,” a pointer finger then kissed each of your digits as you counted down, “five… four… three… two… one,” you squinted a moment longer before a giggle bubbled out, “okay, so now that it’s just us, I can tell you what I’ve got planned,” you switched up your seat, moving your legs to comfortably kneel on the mattress with your frame slightly turned at an angle for you to better see the screen, but retroactively grant everyone a view of the curve of your spine as the line swooped down over your waist and blossomed into the plush of your ass, sinfully on display in the pastel blue, mesh lingerie you wore, “there is one thing in particular that he has just been begging for… any guesses?”

A_B_Cunt_Destroyer: Hmm… is it a particular fantasy? A little bit of roleplay action?

8inchStallion: Threesome?

“Nope. All fun suggestions, but no.”

TittyCokeKingXXX: Is it to bang in public?

Cream314159: How about anal?

“Cream! Yes! You guessed it!” you excitedly threw your hands up in the air, “it is anal that he’s been dreaming about.”

Ddadddy6969: I mean, who can blame him.

ItsBradBtch: Fucking same.

TearinYoBootyUp: Wish it was my birthday today so you’d let me fuck your tight little ass.

“So, what I was thinking,” you tilted your head, “was that before I go give him his present, you guys could maybe help me prep a little bit, warm me up and stretch out my ass enough to fit his big fat cock. Would you guys like that?”

KyleKyleson: Yes!

UrPervyDaddy398: Hell yeah, let’s get you ready to take that monster cock.

Casting a glance out of the nearby window, your eye couldn’t help but catch sight of the neighbouring house. It didn’t look like the divorced dad who resided there was home, though you still nevertheless searched for him. You weren’t completely clueless to his infatuation with you, though it had almost turned into a game, always trying to catch him peeping at you through the windows, or even taking it further by purposely wearing something skimpy when you’d go get the mail or other activities where you would know you’d bump into him. You didn’t judge him to be the type of man to ever really do anything about it, to actually reach out and grasp a wet dream of a girl so much his junior, but the teasing had become too much fun for you to stop, you were too far gone to draw the curtains closed now.

As a quiet jingle sounded from your speakers, indicating that someone had tipped you, your gaze flickered back towards the computer screen.

A_B_Cunt_Destroyer: Is that the underwear set I bought you off your wishlist? You look even more gorgeous in it than I imagined.

“Oh, thanks A,” you let your palms graze down over the thin mesh, feeling your pussy clench as your touch brushed over your nipples poking through the baby blue material, “yeah, it is. It matches the dress I’m planning on wearing tonight, so I thought I’d be cute.”

Call_Me_Sir_844: Turn around, Cherry. Let us see it from the back.

“Yes, sir, of course,” you chuckled lightly before shifting around, purposely arching your back as you glanced over your shoulder.

729AlwaysHard: How is your ass even real?

Like1OfUrFrenchGrls: Damn, that butt is just begging for a spanking.

Raking your touch down your sides, you smirked, “oh, you want me to spank my ass?” before the jingle of a tip echoed from the computer, “alright, baby,” and like a cat, your frame scooped down, gliding on to all fours and sticking your bottom high up in the air, “how many do you think? Let’s say, highest tipper gets to decide, but please, be kind, I still have to be able to dance the night away tonight.”

TittyCokeKingXXX tipped $50 – 10 spanks, with a paddle

BootyLover47 tipped $35 – 4 spanks

MrHansen tipped $100 – 6 spanks

“Thank you guys,” you wiggled playfully for them, “and Mr. Hansen, wow, thank you so much!” you squeaked ecstatically, “well, I guess I better start counting then.”

After each smack your palm landed on your propped-up bottom, the coinciding number rolled off your lips till your ass was tingling and sore for all your viewers to see.

WinterIsCumming: Fuck, just seeing your little pussy through those panties… they’re soaked, aren’t they?

Gliding a hand down between your legs, your fingertips ghosted over the sheer fabric that clung to your core.

“They are, Winter,” you blinked up at the camera, “man, I wish you were here to give me a hand.”

NastyBoi: Show us that pretty little pussy, come on, don’t be shy now.

“You want me to take my underwear off for you? Take them off so that I can really play?”

And with the chimes of tips swiftly ringing in your ears, one of your fingers then hooked in the gusset and carefully peeled it to the side, letting it act as a frame as you momentarily teased them with just a glimpse of your glistening folds, before you slowly slid them off completely.

Eventually, after your slick digits had gotten a chance to warm you up and tease you till you were practically buzzing on both of the camera angles that now displayed you, as it hadn’t taken you very long till you switched to a split screen, both your face frozen in a silent moan and your pretty holes drooling for attention pressed up against one another, side by side on the stream, your fingers then reached for a toy, the pretty glass dildo you had picked out just before the show.

You first popped the toy in your mouth as you flipped around and relaxed back against your pile of pillows. Letting your gaze flicker over the downright filthy comments rolling across the screen, you sucked on the toy for a bit before pulling it out and letting it float down south.

“Fuck,” your eyes fluttered slightly as you rubbed the tip gently against your little rosebud, “oh, that feels so good.”

Cream314159: Yeah, Cherry, tease that little ass like a good slut.

8inchStallion: Fuck, you’re gonna make me blow my load soon if you keep looking like that.

Ddadddy6969: Has your fuck buddy really never had your ass before? Tbh kinda hard to believe considering what a whore you are for all of us. I love your anal shows, they’re always my favourite.

“I know, daddy,” a light giggle tore through your form, “I’m honestly kinda surprised as well, but no, it hasn’t happened yet.”

BongDong420: Wait, are you an anal virgin? Plot twist.

“No, no, I’m not, I love anal,” you sucked in a gentle gasp as you let just the tip of the toy breach your tight opening, “I just haven’t really done it yet with too many different people. Actually, I’ve only done it with one so far, now that I think about it,” you swiftly shook your head and forced your eyes to flicker to the messages to rid your thoughts of your ex.

Call_Me_Sir_844: Please open your mouth, I’m gonna cum!

“Oh, yes, please cum for me, sir,” you answered the comment and then let your lips part wide. As your tongue stuck out as well, a string of saliva soon dripped down as you waited, the spit colliding with your tits and running down your cleavage.

A_B_Cunt_Destroyer tipped $550 – Don’t let yourself cum. Edge yourself so that you can be all drippy and dumb for him like a good little present should be.

Since you and your roommates lived in a residential area too quiet for college ragers, some of the guys Steve and Bucky were on the football team with offered to throw the bash at their fraternity.

Music blared, nearly making the entire house rumble, as you walked around the place, searching for the one of your roommates who the party was in honour of.

Fiddling lightly with the hem of your silky dress as you peeked into the room where a rowdy game of beer pong was afoot, you still felt a little dizzy as desperation soaked through your ruined panties.

Though, as you checked the kitchen, a bulky frame bumped into you, though it wasn’t just any run-of-the-mill frat boy, incapable of watching where they went, it was the very last person you wished to lay your eyes upon.

“Y/n, hey,” the trust fund kid caught your arm before you could slip away.

“Ransom,” you couldn’t help but clench your jaw as you tried to free yourself of his hold, “hello.”

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight.”

“Why wouldn’t I be here?” you nearly scoffed as you squinted up at him, “it’s my roommate’s birthday party.”

“Right, forgot you moved in with all of them, became just one of the boys…” as a beat of silence fell over him, he let his gaze then rake over your form, lapping up the soft blue material that draped across your curves, “you look good tonight, by the way.”

“I–…” your eyes fluttered shut as you let out a sigh, “Ransom, can we not? Just for tonight, can we not do all of this? Just let me be here, celebrate my friend, and then after that, if you so wish, we can get back to our regularly scheduled program. Just one night of peace, that’s all I’m asking for.”

His dark brows then furrowed as he cocked his head, “babe, come on–”

Cutting him off with a scoff, you spat, “I haven’t been your babe since you broke up with me.”

He had been all for landing a girl that was essentially a wet dream come true when it came to all of the sinful areas you were itching to explore with him, but what hadn’t been a part of his plans was having a girlfriend who wasn’t exclusively a slut for him and him alone. He’d told you to choose between him and your dirty little hobby, but to his surprise, you hadn’t even hesitated when you didn’t choose him.

A low sigh then puffed from his lungs, “fine.”

Heatedly ripping your arm free, you echoed, “fine,” before turning on your heel and exiting the kitchen.

Luckily, your search didn’t drag on too much further before you stumbled upon your celebrated friend.

“There you are!” you exclaimed, your voice ushering Curtis’ head to twist in your direction, his glance shifting from the pool table before him.

“Baby!” he swiftly threw open his inked arms and pulled you close, “hey!”

Hearing the heavy balls clank around on the table, you asked, “are you in the middle of a game or could I steal you away for a sec?”

“Nah, not this round,” he withdrew only ever so slightly, letting one of his arms stay draped over your shoulders, “what do you need?”

Pulling him with you in the direction of the wide staircase, you smirked, “I just have a present to give you…”

“Another one?” he blinked as you dragged him up the steps.

“Well, you deserve the world, so yes, you get another one this year,” you offered him a warm smile.

“Man,” he exhaled as you reached the upper level, “happy birthday to me,” a smirk spread across his features as he willingly let you push him into one of the rooms.

It was a study room filled with long communal desks, tall bookcases and velvet armchairs. It was also, thankfully, vacant of any other partygoers.

“Happy birthday, Curtis,” you didn’t waste any time, the door barely managed to slam behind you, before you yanked him in for a kiss.

It took him a second before he caught up with your sudden actions, but as soon as he did, a gentle giggle rumbled from his intoxicated form and vibrated against your lips as he enveloped his long arms around your frame.

Feet shuffling, your roommate soon bumped into one of the tables, lending him to half sit on it as you let your touch rake down his figure. Even with the swift and determined pace your desperation drove you to have, it still didn’t take that long for Curtis to be on the same page as you, and when your palm fluttered down to cup him through his pants, the tent twitched beneath your touch.

At first, when you then withdrew from the kiss, Curtis instinctively followed your disappearing lips till he noticed your knees buckling as you sank down onto the floor.

“This is so much better than losing at pool,” he gazed down at you between his thighs, nearly hypnotised as you tugged at his zipper.

“I’d sure hope so,” you nearly scoffed as you freed him of his binds, not hesitating to lean in and swipe your tongue silkily against the very tip of him as soon as you had the chance, “although, you know I never mind being a consolation prize.”

“Consolation prize?” his tone filtered through a soft groan as your fist enclosed around his base, twisting slightly as it jerked up to graze your mouth, “that’s not what you were last week.”

“Yeah, but that was different,” your giggle vibrated against him, “it’s okay, baby. Maybe next time we play at home you’ll get to win and show the others who’s boss,” you purred before your lips enveloped fully around his fat girth.

When spit and slobber soon bubbled out and dripped down onto your chest from your efforts, you got back up to your feet. As you let the back of your palm wipe a bit of the mess from your chin, you twisted your frame around and let your spine melt back against this broad chest.

As you felt Curtis’ fingers dig into your dress and hike it up, you rolled your hips back against him, nearly dizzy with want. Gliding a hand down between your thighs, you captured the sodden material, utterly ruined and clinging to your core, before you yanked it to the side, the leaky mess not yet ready to let go of the panties and spiderwebbing to where you pulled it to the side.

Reaching around, your grip captured his cock once again as you tilted him to teasingly brush through your folds, your activities from earlier made it almost pathetic how sloppy you got him in a matter of seconds.

As his lips pressed to your cheek in a hot kiss, you glanced over your shoulder to catch his eye and take in his reaction.

You didn’t warn him, nor say anything at all. Only a smirk glimmered on your lips as a forewarning before you led him away from the leaky entrance he naturally assumed you’d let him into, and instead arched your back and eased his slicked-up length into somewhere else.

“Oh–, holy shit,” his eyes flickered down to affirm what you were doing before blinking up at you in the assumption that it was a mistake, “baby, you’re–”

“I know,” you smiled at the way his chest heaved at the realisation.

“Wait, seriously?”

“Told you I had another present for you,” your gloating grin softened at the moan that slipped out as you sank down just a little further upon his dick.

His fingers dented both sides of your hips as you slowly let him feel more of you, “oh my god, you’re the fucking best…”

It was shallow at first, gentle as you controlled the pace, though still mind-meltingly intense as you fucked back against him till your knees began to wobble, feeling each and every little detail of his stretch your little ass out.

You felt his hot breath on the side of your face between the lazy pecks he planted there and occasionally veering further south to try and mark your neck up with his bites.

“O-oh, fuck,” you whimpered when one of his inked arms snaked around to your front and stretched down to rub your clit, swollen and throbbing between the pads of his rough fingers.

Since you’d backed away from the edge not too long before, its overwhelming return was swift and quickly rendered you a shivering mess in his arms as your rhythm came to a rest and the tight circles he drew over your puffy pearl pushed you into insanity.

Eyes still shut as you were panting for breath, you felt Curtis pluck up your chin and tilt it so that his lips could seize yours.

Though the blissful pause didn’t last very long before he manoeuvred you around, manhandling you into a new configuration, though all the while never slipping his cock out.

His palm was heavy against your back as he whirled you around and bent you over the table. Cheek smooshed against the smooth wooden surface, the thunderous snap his hips then offered caused the desk to rattle beneath you.

However, just as you sensed him begin to lose himself, burying his cock so deep inside of you that it caused you to see stars, the creaking sound of the door to the study swinging open sliced through the lewd harmonies already filling the room.

Even though you couldn’t really glance over your shoulder to see who it was that entered, the recognisable voices that then found your ears calmed your worries about why Curtis’ pace for some reason hadn’t slowed down in the slightest.

“No, I’m not kidding, that’s really what–, oh,” Bucky’s sentence paused as soon he spotted you, “hello you two.”

You attempted to tilt your head against the table as the last of your roommates came into view, shut the door behind them and stepped closer.

As you reached out a wobbly hand to grasp Steve’s, he sweetly caught it in his and chuckled at your cock drunk visage, “hey.”

“Hmm–, hi…” you attempted to greet them, Bucky swiftly bending down to briefly be at your height, letting his fingers brush some of your hair out of your face as Curtis’ efforts jolted your frame against the table at every feverish thrust.

“Was wondering where you guys were,” Steve held onto your hand a little longer as his glance met the blissful gaze of the man who was balls deep inside of you, “I thought she already gave you her little present.”

“You knew?” Curtis tilted his chin, to which you tried to explain with a mumble, though one of your roommates didn’t hesitate to playfully ask you to clarify.

“I’m sorry what was that? You’re being too much of whore right now for me to understand you,” Bucky pressed a peck to your brow before straightening back up, “look, I would have totally told you man, but she threatened us not to ruin the surprise.”

“Yeah, said that if you didn’t get to take a dip first, then none of us ever would,” Steve added.

“Aw,” you felt Curtis kneed your bottom as he slammed into you, “you’d really have done that?”

“I did say you deserve the world, so yeah,” you managed to squeak.

“It’s so cute how sappy birthdays make you,” Bucky smirked, “such a shame not one of us even hesitates to exploit it.”

As one hand stayed glued to the curve of your ass, his thumb hooked in your underwear to grant not only him but the rest a perfect view of just how well you took him, Curtis’ other hand then stretched out to grasp the half-empty beer that Steve handed him, briefly taking a swig before handing it back.

“Yeah, she really is just such a good little girl, aren’t you?” Steve found a seat on one of the nearby chairs.

“Mhm…” you barely caught sight of how both of them palmed themselves for an ounce of relief.

Sitting down as well, Bucky squinted cockily back at you as your hazy eyes briefly caught his, “what was that, sweetheart?”

“I’m a–,” you blubbered as Curtis’ cock stretched you so wide that you even felt it press against the sweet spots in your throbbing pussy, “I’m a g-good girl–”

“Yes, you are, baby, that’s right,” Curtis chuckled warmly behind you before offering your ass a swift slap, “the fucking best.”

“Oh, oh! She’s so close to cumming, I can see it!” Bucky exclaimed in an almost mocking tone as your eyes began to roll, “just look at that face,” he nearly jumped to get closer, “so fucking pretty.”

“Come on, Y/n,” Steve leaned back in his seat and squeezed his hard-on as he stared at your fucked out form, “give us a good show. Make it good for the birthday boy.”

Although, unfortunately, you were already too far gone by then to take any of their lewd comments into account as you tumbled over the edge, floating in the sea of your cheering roommates as a soundtrack.

After your friend had emptied himself into your haven, he simply slid your panties back into place so that his cum could leak out of you for the rest of the party and ruin your sheer underwear completely, perhaps even give up entirely and run down your shaky legs for all to see.

Bending down to smother you back to life with kisses, you also felt Curtis’ arms tangle around you as he hugged you and slowly lifted you off of the table.

“You wanna go down and dance?” his low timbre tickled the shell of your ear.

“Just give me a second,” you breathed through your hazy smile as you fought to blink your eyes back open, “my legs will first have to start working again. Maybe you could take over the music for a second and queue up something slow,” you light-heartedly suggested with an airy chuckle.

“Don’t you worry, baby,” Bucky smirked from across the table, “we’ll help keep you upright.”

#lea’s writing #sugar and spice au #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers smut #curtis everett smut #chris evans smut #sebastian stan smut #andy barber smut #ransom drysdale smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett au #steve rogers series #bucky barnes series #chris evans x reader

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solxamber · 7 months ago

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Romance Clichés With: Vil Schoenheit

Cliché: The Airport (Dark Mirror?) Confession

Others: Leona ; Azul ; Kalim ; Idia ; Jamil ; Riddle

Vil had told you last week about his upcoming movie shoot in another country. He’d casually mentioned he'd be gone for a little while, which you’d taken in stride. After all, he was a famous actor—it wasn't like he was leaving forever. At least, that’s what you thought. But Rook had other ideas.

“Oh, mon ami,” Rook sighed dramatically the day before Vil’s departure, “how brave you are. Truly a testament to love, to be able to bear such a tragic farewell without shedding a single tear! Many would crumble under the thought of not seeing their beloved for years.”

You blinked, pausing mid-bite of your sandwich. “Years?”

Rook nodded, his eyes misting over, clearly lost in some inner poetic monologue. “Oui, it may well be years before we see Roi du Poison’s radiant visage again. Some might say he is embarking on an odyssey, one that will only return him to our shores once he’s ascended to an even greater pinnacle of fame.”

“Y-Years?” you echoed, a pit forming in your stomach.

“Bien sûr!” Rook leaned in, whispering with all the seriousness of a tragic romance novel. “In showbiz, a project could take ages—rewrites, reshoots, promotional tours... Why, he may even settle abroad to cultivate his craft.”

You dropped your sandwich, horror dawning as the words hit you with full force. Your mind went into overdrive. Vil... leaving? Maybe forever? You pictured months, even years of unanswered texts, long-distance video calls, and eventually, just fading away from each other’s lives.

You couldn’t take it! And if he was leaving, you had to make it clear that he’d be leaving someone who would do anything for him.

Which was why, mere minutes before Vil was set to leave, you were charging across campus, heart pounding and absolutely zero plan in mind.

He was standing in front of the Mirror of Darkness, his poise immaculate as always. His entourage surrounded him, but you were zeroed in on only one thing: making sure he knew you would sacrifice anything to keep him.

He was taking a few moments to pose with his usual elegance, utterly unaware that you were barreling toward him with all the grace of a charging rhinoceros.

“Vil!” you yelled, gaining speed as you neared him. He turned, brows raised just slightly before you flung yourself into his arms, nearly sending him toppling over.

“Please,” you blurted, “don’t go!”

Vil’s face softened, and he looked about to speak, but you were already mid-rant, words tumbling out in a fevered rush.

“Vil, I swear, I’ll change my entire skincare routine if you want! Every day, double cleanse, essence, eye cream—I’ll use every serum, sheet mask, and exfoliant you recommend.” You grabbed his hands, clutching them tightly. “And if it’s my diet, I’ll cut out carbs or sugar or whatever you want! I’ll even drink green juice, Vil!”

His eyes widened in something like amusement, but you didn’t give him a chance to interject.

“Please, just don’t leave forever. I don’t care how famous you get or how much international recognition comes your way, or how you’ll become the new face of high fashion—I’ll do anything. I love you, Vil. I’ll do whatever you need me to. Just. Stay."

Vil blinked, clearly stunned, but before you could spiral into another tirade, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a soft, breathtaking kiss. It was enough to shut you up instantly, and when he finally pulled back, he looked at you with an exasperated but deeply affectionate smile.

“Darling,” he said, brushing a hand down your cheek with a chuckle, “I’m really only leaving for two weeks.”

“Oh.” You stared up at him, cheeks flushing red as his words sank in.

“Two weeks,” he repeated, laughing softly, and his face lit up in a way you’d never seen before—completely unguarded, genuinely amused, and utterly, hopelessly in love.

Your flustered mumbling was drowned out by his gentle laughter. “So… all that talk about green juice and sheet masks…” His chuckle turned into a full laugh, rich and uninhibited, echoing through the hall as a dozen phones captured the moment.

He gave you a lingering kiss, entirely unconcerned with the crowd, before pressing his forehead to yours. “You really thought I’d leave you forever?” he whispered, a teasing sparkle in his eye. “Oh, my sweet, melodramatic potato.”

You mumbled something unintelligible, hiding your face in his shoulder as your embarrassment finally caught up to you.

By the time he returned two weeks later, it was all anyone on campus could talk about. The candid video of him gazing at you, laugh lines softened, love written all over his face—it had gone viral. Even Vil was taken by surprise at how the internet had swooned over the whole scene, declaring you both the new “It Couple” of NRC.

And if Vil noticed the way his likes had outpaced Neige’s on Magicam, well, he wasn’t above a little bragging.

He’d make a show of it too, asking Mira each morning, “Who’s the most popular couple on Magicam?” And every time, he would grin, smugly satisfied with the answer.

And if anyone dared ask him how he got so much traction on his account lately, he’d just smile, gaze in your direction, and shrug with feigned innocence.

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #vil schoenheit x you #vil

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messenger-of-babel · 8 months ago

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Nightmares

Summary: The Wayne family calls you in When they can't snap Tim out of it. (Tim Drake x reader)

Word Count: 2.5K

Notes: Tim is my fav as Robin ❤️ Yes, I did read the Hush arc. People are oddly divided if Jason really did try to kill Tim which is an argument for a later day, but it'd still mess with anyone regardless so shhhhh. Enjoy xx

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It was hardly ever that you were contacted by the Wayne residence, so when you got a call one Friday evening, a cold ball began forming in your stomach. With a surprised stutter you responded that you were still at the Gotham University library, studying up for your finals. Before you even got a chance to ask what was going on, Alfred kindly let you know that he was going to be picking you up before the receiver went dead.

Unsure of what to do, you shifted from foot to foot outside of the library. The night was cold for Spring, the coattails of winter still wrapped around the city. As you fidget you try to think of any reason that they would be calling you. After all, you and Tim had only been dating for eight months or so. In those eight months you had visited the manor maybe twice, much less met his family. Tim had dragged you through the hallways as soon as you hit the foyer, hurrying you to his room so fast that you could only exchange a surprised glance with the members he passed. You could only think of the worst scenarios, minutes stretching for eternity as you trapped yourself inside your mind.

What if they hated you dating Tim? You weren't from an affluent family like they were, growing up in a poor area of Robinson Park. You got into Gotham U on a scholarship, which was how you both had met in the first place. What if they looked down upon that and were going to threaten you to break up with him? If they ever chose to, they certainly would have the power and sway to. Hell, they could chase you out of Gotham entirely and no one would be the wiser. You thought of all these ideas, just to distract yourself from the underlying thought that sat like an unwelcome visitor int he back of your mind.

The little thought that whispered over and over again, 'What if something has happened to Tim?'

The Wayne car rolling to a stop in front of you was enough to snap you out of your worrying, making the ball in your stomach only grow heavier. The visage of Pennyworth, the butler, appears from the driver’s side. He gives you a small, tight, smile and exits the car, opening the back as you descend the stairs.

"After you, dear."

You hesitantly poke your head in as he waves his hand politely to the open door, blood draining from your face. You had expected the car to be empty, but as you studied the shadows it was very clearly not the case. The sturdily built man in front of you had his arm propped up on the window, chin in his palm. His deep blue eyes glinted from the shadows he seemed to melt into, rough timbre floating your way. "Come in."

You anxiously shuffle into the seat, leaving a space between you and the enigmatic Bruce Wayne. There's a tense silence as Alfred gets into the driver’s side and starts the car, headed to the Manor once more. You shuffle in your seat, pulse thudding against your neck.

"It's nice to meet you." you say, clearing your throat awkwardly. The icy eyes of the billionaire flick to you, scanning you up and down.

"And same to you." he says smoothly, staring back out the window with a rich indifference. "I'm sure you know why we called you?"

"Actually, I don't sir." you say gently, fiddling with your fingers. They gave you nothing to work off of, how could they expect you to know what was happening?

"It's about Tim." he says, and your heart flips.

"Is he okay?" falls out before you can even temper your voice properly.

"He's…in a difficult space right now." Bruce hums back at you, worry creasing at the corner of his eyes. "He won't work with any of us, won't come out. We thought that maybe you could help. Actually, Dick recommended we call you."

Dick Grayson. The only brother you had met, albeit only briefly. He had been passing through for a charity event and had come to ask Tim a question, ducking his head inside the bedroom. Tim had gone to get snacks, leaving you to nervously explain who you were. When you mentioned that you were dating Tim, a wide smile had split the older man's face. He'd promptly introduced himself, stepping inside and shaking your hand. Tim had chased him out soon after he arrived back, the elder brother's laughing echoing down the halls long after Tim had shut and locked the door.

"Is it bad?" you whisper out, fists curling on your knees.

"He's alive and physically uninjured, if that's what you're asking. Now, what I'm about to tell you is confidential. You tell anyone, and I mean anyone," Bruce's eyes flash dangerously. "Then there will be severe consequences."

When you nod his shoulders drop slightly, and he uncoils. You had always been intimidated by the man and the sheer power he wielded, but you didn't take him for someone to be so fiercely protective. There was something in his eyes that flickered when he stared you down, a scarred over wound that re-opened at the thought of you harming his family.

"I promise." you say, rising to match Bruce's tone. "I just want to help Tim."

The answer settles the wary father next to you, relaxing back into his seat.

He fills you in, dread filling your stomach more and more. He explains how they've been a target of a terrorist attack, Tim getting caught in the crossfire. The story seems wild and something in the back of your mind gets the impression he isn't telling you everything, but you remind yourself that this is Gotham, and being a rich family paints a rather large target.

"Fear gas?" you whisper, eyebrows furrowed. "I thought Batman put the Scarecrow in Arkham."

Bruce bites his knuckles but nods. "Yeah, that is what I thought too. So, we're suspecting it's either a lackey of his, or the Bat isn't as thorough as he appears." he grunts, teeth relenting their assault so he can cross his arms. "Masked annoyance." he mutters, his nose crinkling.

"How can I help?" you ask, adrenaline rushing through your veins in a mild cocktail of panic.

"Talk to him. get him to come out. We've had a doctor look him over and he'll be fine, he got out of the gassed room in time. His mental is just a bit…fragile, right now. He won't accept comfort from us. Some of us can't even get close. So, we thought you might be able to try." Bruce studies you closely. "We want to deal with this before press come snooping. It'll only affect his social life if this gets out before he's had a chance to recover, so I must reiterate the importance of your silence. This is a family matter; we will deal with it as such."

you nod along, swallowing the lump in your throat. "Yes, sir."

"But do not take it to heart if my son doesn’t recognise you." he says firmly. "He isn't himself right now. This isn't a reflection on your or your relationship."

You want to ask about how much he knew about your relationship, but as you open your mouth you're cut off by the voice of Alfred. "We're here, sir."

The car rolls to a stop, and Alfred opens Bruce's door and then yours. The manor is imposing, but you don't get long to look at it before you're ushered away. You're walked to the door of Tim's bedroom; except this time your arm is being led by the sympathetic smile of Pennyworth. He leaves you in peace, and it's never felt more imposing knocking on your boyfriend's door than now.

"Tim?" you call softly, rapping your knuckles against the richly coloured wood. "Are you in there? Can I come in?"

There's no response, making worry knot up in your chest. "I'm coming in, okay?" you call out, hand hesitantly turning the brass knob and opening the door just enough so you can slip inside.

It's dark, only moonlight illuminating the scene before you. His bedsheets have been ripped from the mattress, pillows scattered around. Drawers were open haphazardly, contents spilled across the tiled floor. Your heart lurched spying the sheer curtains that fluttered in front of the open bay windows, worrying that he might have gone out there despite the drop. It calms slightly when you spy him, huddled under the desk. You approach as if regarding a cornered animal, concern twitching in your fingers. The desk was devoid of any objects, swiped clear by a frenzied arm. The drawers were open and empty, content spilled around him.

"Hey, Tim." you say, crouching to him under the desk. He looks a mess, face pressed tightly into his knees. He's curled into a ball, arms tucked under his torso, resting on the front of his thighs. "it's me." your murmur, reaching out gently. "it's just me."

He jumps as your fingers lightly brush against his arm, face snapping up. His eyes are puffy and red rimmed, cheeks stained with tears. His hair is tousled and messy, falling over the shaking of his blue irises. The sight pangs painfully in your heart, and when he no longer pulls away from your touch, your hand slowly circles his wrist. He leans into your touch, body trembling as you pull him towards you. When you manage to get him in a hug you can feel the rapid beating of his heart, the shaky and quickened breaths that he draws into his lungs.

"Please don't hurt me." he whispers, shattering your heart. You look at him wide eyed, gently tilting his face to meet yours.

"Why on earth would I do that?" you breathe out, confusion on your face. His eyes are watery and far away, lips trembling. "I'd never do that, Tim. you know that."

"Please don't leave." he chokes out. "Please. Please don't leave. I don't want to be alone. I don't want to be alone again, I'll work harder, I’ll be smarter, I'll do better." he reassures frantically, pupils shifting rapidly. "I'll do enough this time. I'll meet your expectations. Just don't go."

Your mouth drops and there's nothing that you can say for a few moments. "Oh, Tim…" you breathe out. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? absolutely nowhere." you murmur gently. "And you don't need to promise that. You do enough, hell, you do so much. You do so much more than meet expectations, Tim. You surpass them in every way."

he shakes his head at your comforting, hair flopping in front of his eyes.

"I saw them." he mumbles, although you aren’t sure if it is to himself or to you. "They were just here, I saw them.'

"Who?" you ask softly, stroking your thumbs over his cheeks.

"My parents." he mumbles back out. "I saw them. they were here. They said... They said things..."

You sigh.

Bruce had told you that the effect of the gas made people see things, vivid hallucinations conjured up to torture them. You just hadn't been able to comprehend how deep in someone's mind the fear gas was able to pull from. "And there was Jason." he chokes out. "I never meant to replace him, but he wouldn't listen, and then I felt it all over again." he stammers out, spare hand coming to trace along his throat softly. "But Jason turned into Damian, and then he pushed me and I was falling again. I'm not a real son, I'm not a real replacement I'm-"

"Stop." you command, unable to hold your own tears back at his words. You had no idea what he was saying. Jason and Damian hurting him? Tim complained lightly about his brothers at times, but he had equal amount of compliments to give them back (even if they were begrudging). It had to be the toxin messing with his mind, distorting the images he kept conjuring up.

"Tim, your brother's love you." you say. "Bruce loves you, Alfred loves you, I love you. So please," your whisper, hands holding his face. "Please, wake up, Timmie."

His pupils dilate rapidly as he peers up at you, and you can see him struggle to focus. "Please," you plead again softly. "Please come back. Trust me. You're safe."

Water spills over his lash line and his lips curl into a sob, but his body relaxes. He unfurls from the foetal position, absent rocking of his body coming to a slow halt.

"That's it," you breathe out. "Nice and easy, just take a deep breath."

When he relaxes enough for you to crawl under the desk with him, you do, his arms circling your waist as you pull his head forward to rest on your shoulder. He turns and buries his face in your neck, hot tears streaking down your skin as he sobs. "I couldn't dodge it in time…" he weakly says, hands shaking. "If I had dodged I wouldn't be seeing this. I'm supposed to be…I'm supposed to be faster than that…"

Your lips frown at the despair in his voice. From his tone it seems like he was slowly becoming more lucid, but you still had no idea what he was on about. With a few gentle encouragements you get his frantic murmuring to cease completely, fight draining out of him. You can feel the effects wearing off him as time passes, and you hate to imagine what the toxin must have done to him at full strength. You just run a comforting hand through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp and occasionally shushing him. When you tilt your head to kiss the top of his head, your eyes narrow in on the piece of paper that had fluttered from his lap.

It had been obscured when he was curled up, pressed to his chest. now that he had begun to relax it had slipped out, landing face up. It was a photo of you, taken in black and white. He had gotten a new camera for his birthday and wanted to try it out, so he brought it to the library the next time you both met up to study together. You were looking up at the camera, smiling softly as the light from the window filtered in behind you. Your eyes follow the curve of your grin to the way your eyes crinkle joyfully as you gaze in his direction. The corners are rolled and creased from the toying of his fingers, and you softly reach out to pick it up.

His arms tighten around you as you move to retrieve it, making you rub his back comfortingly. "I'm not going anywhere." you say softly, pulling the picture back towards you. "I promise," you whisper, looking at yourself in the photo he had been cradling so reverently before you came. "I'm not going anywhere, ever."

And you intended to keep that promise before anything like this happened again.

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