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neutron-stars-collision · 1 year

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Waiting for the Night

Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Chapter 20 - In the glow of the moon

Chapter 19; Masterlist Summary: Some conversations cannot be avoided. Especially when it is Bruce, who becomes impatient... Warnings: Swearing; angst. Too much talking. Author's Notes: Alas, we've made it. This is where the story ends *sniffles*. While I've got a short epilogue in mind, it's going to be more of a post scriptum, so I'm treating this as the conclusion to the journey. And what a journey it had been! 🥺 It only took me a year and a half to finish the series, but I'm so glad I did. Those idiots did not make it easy, but I'll sure miss them. This chapter is a long overdue punchline some of you had been waiting for. I hope it meets your expectations. Thank you for reading, waiting and supporting me in the very rocky process. You all made it much easier to convince my brain it was worth continuing 💕 And thank you, Shet, for dealing with my whining, doubts and endless drama - always grateful for you! Hope you all enjoy and let me know what you think? Tag list: @thecraziestcrayon, @kookiewastolen, @imimsy, @tuskens-mando, @sugarcoated-lame, @blue-aconite, @hypnoash, @rabbitdictionary, @nicklet94, @mcrmarvelloki, @shimmeringgrim, @ttae-yong, @freyadruid, @siriuslydestiny, @ms-dont-care, @raphaelaisabella, @itsmytimetoodream, @brightjimini, @castellandiangelo, @grunge-n-roses5 (let me know if you wanted to be removed/added).

(gif credit: @1038276637)

In the morning, you dared believe the universe must have a soft spot for you within its core. As soon as your eyes opened, your gaze noted two things. One, Bruce was gone. Two, there was a note with his handwriting on your bedside table.

Without letting your mind run away with the first fact, undoubtedly working itself into a spiral like no other you rolled over to pick up the page. The contents were simple: “Sorry I’m gone. The hospital called to say Alfred had been signed out, so I went to pick him up. See you soon.”

The spark of relief drowned out everything else as you dropped the paper onto the covers and smiled at the ceiling. Everything was still fucked. But this was something. Something that could take your mind off the reality. It was easy to admit that one thought. You missed Alfred. Missed his clever blue-grey eyes that saw through your bullshit. Maybe it was what you needed… Maybe.

The thought was a motivator to drag you out of bed and into the closet, absentmindedly searching for anything you could wear. The first proper wake-up of the morning came when you entered the ensuite and found yourself facing the mirror. Finding mussed hair and a red bruise on your neck. A few more below, scattered like flares across your body. Drawing attention to what happened. Making it impossible for you to deny it, even before yourself. A wave of shame rolled in your stomach, erasing the budding hunger. You turned your head the other way and never looked back until you were ready to leave the bathroom.

It was cold enough for a turtleneck, anyway.

The distraction kicked in as soon as you made your way downstairs. A chorus of voices could be heard coming from the kitchen. A sound you had not heard in the tower since the explosion. A quiet sigh of relief was all the noise you made as you headed into the room. Eager to see what was going on. Having reached the doorway, you peered inside. Bruce was the first one you saw, leaning against the kitchen counter with a timid yet bright smile. He seemed happy. Lighter than when you had first met him.

Another dangerous thought you did not want to entertain. Your gaze slipped over Bruce to settle on Alfred. He was leaning heavily on his cane, but no bandages were in sight anymore. Only a fading yellowish bruise and darker circles underneath his eyes. Dory was talking with him animatedly, her hands gesticulating broadly. A grin broke out on your face as you stepped through the threshold, immediately drawing attention to your arrival. All three pairs of eyes landed on you. Without meaning to, you met Bruce’s gaze first. The look in his eyes shifted, but his face was still open. As if he was happy to see you. Even after the previous night. You never had the time to pull that revelation apart.

“Glad to see you join us, darling” Alfred crossed the remaining space towards you with a bright smile.

Affection filled the caverns of your heart, making it impossible to get rid of that one feeling. The one that reminded you that you had not felt this welcomed anywhere in a very long time. That this, the three of them, almost felt like the home you had lost twenty years ago. You swallowed past the lump in your throat to reply, a cheeky smile masking the emotions tearing through your chest:

“Pardon me, I didn’t know we’ll be having a kitchen party” an answering scoff from Bruce was enough of a validation for the weak joke, “It’s good to see you back, Alfred” you met the butler’s gaze with a fond look of your own, not hiding just how much you had meant it.

You knew he understood, instantly adjusting his stance to open his arms and invite you in for a hug with a quiet croon:

“Oh, c’mere,” you did not need to be asked twice, returning the embrace with care, mindful of his lingering frailty.

But Alfred’s hug was everything but frail, instantly making you sink into the comforting touch you did not know you had missed. After a beat, aware of the company and the prolonged silence, you pulled back, squeezing his arms one last time. Over Pennyworth’s shoulder, you caught Bruce’s gaze again. The softness in his eyes was replaced with something more tender. Almost as if seeing you close to Alfred meant much more to him than he could say. You sent him a small smile as the butler spoke again:

“I see my boy at least had the decency to invite you to stay for longer” the older man threw a pointed look over his shoulder at Bruce before setting his piercing gaze back on you.

You did wonder whether the blush on your cheeks was as telling as you worried it might be. Because there was no escape from it.

“Of course, I-” Bruce’s offended rebuttal was never meant to be heard.

Only because you feared what he might say and whether you could mitigate the effects without the scene dissolving into chaos. You threw Bruce an apologetic smile and interrupted him with faux chirpiness:

“He did. At least until everything settles down in the city,” the apologetic note was not easily eradicated from your voice.

Because no matter what, you still felt like perhaps you were a nuisance to them. Like maybe you should have disappeared a long time ago and never bothered them again. But then Bruce was the one to ask… And the previous night, he seemed happy with you staying… You barely resisted shaking your head against the barrage of thoughts as Alfred remarked:

“Well, we’re certainly not short on space” he glanced at Dory as if awaiting her approval.

You followed his gaze only to see the older woman smile at you warmly. Giving her blessing with your favourite question of the morning:

“Coffee?” she raised the mug to accentuate the gesture.

“From you? Always” there was no need to think as you flashed her your brightest grin and joined the woman by the counter.

Perhaps it was alright for you to stay. Just a little longer.

***

The illusion of peace lasted approximately 32 hours and 27 minutes. It shattered in the afternoon of the second day of Alfred’s return as Dory left the dining room table, leaving you alone with the older man. As if he had been waiting for the occasion to arise, Pennyworth instantly settled his heavy gaze on your face. You got as far as awkwardly clearing your throat before he launched the first question:

“How are you doing?” you knew the nonchalance in his tone was only a means of keeping you calm.

And making you stay at the table, despite the alarm bells in your head urging you to run away. Because hell knew Alfred was damn good at seeing through your bullshit. Unfortunately.

“I’m good,” you pasted what you hoped was a convincing smile.

Hoping it would be enough to deter him. Foolishly.

Alfred leaned forward, putting more weight onto his forearms as he levelled you with another long look:

“Are you?” your heart stumbled in your chest as if begging to say: No, I’m not; he paused, seemingly to find the right words before driving another striking blow, “Because it took me a little over a day to see that things are not exactly easy between you” you could see the tactful turn.

The exact moment when Alfred noticed he needed to be gentle with you. When he saw your fragility and discovered the cause without you needing to say it aloud. That need to run and hide only grew stronger.

“Well… we get on just fine” you shrugged, aware that it was a futile attempt on your side.

It wasn’t a lie. Even after that night, things were fine. As in, Bruce talked to you, still shared his work updates, and checked in on you throughout the day. But he kept his distance. And you tried your best not to dwell on the fact fearing the heartbreak that would follow if you did.

“I know that you do,” compassion in Alfred’s eyes told you he noticed it too, “But I also know Bruce. And I can see that he’s desperately trying to fix something, but he doesn’t know where to start” the hint of hurt in his face was enough to crack your heart.

It was one thing to know you had been hurting Bruce. Another to hear it from someone else. Someone who knew him more than you. A wave of shame threatened to drown you as you gasped quietly and trained your gaze on the table. A lone tear slipped from the corner of your eye and dropped onto the cloth. There would be no more pretending.

“What do you want me to say?” the hysterical note crept into your voice as you heard yourself spill confessions you never dared put into words, “I’m scared, Alfred. Always had been. Because there are feelings that I can’t get rid of no matter what I do” more tears rolled down your cheeks as the desperation you had tried stifling reared its head “I don’t want to hurt him, but…” you trailed off, your voice breaking under the weight of emotions.

But that was it. The truth was spoken for the first time and somehow more terrifying. You knew how it sounded. How utterly pathetic it was to be afraid of the thing many were willing to die for. But you could not help it.

“You’re also hurting yourself, though” Alfred’s gentle statement was enough to make you look up.

You fixed your red-rimmed eyes on his face, resisting the sudden urge to scoff. He was right, but that did not change anything. After twenty years of hurting, what was some more? An eternity? Easy. Much easier than whatever was going on right now.

“That’s inevitable” you could only shrug, staring at him blankly.

Because that’s just the thing. It’s inevitable. There is no outcome where you could have this and walk away unscathed. No such variant of the reality.

From the disbelief on Alfred’s face, you knew he disagreed.

“What if it doesn’t have to be like that?” you opened your mouth to protest, but he did not let you speak just yet, “What if you could have everything you wanted and be happy?” the conviction in his eyes was something you wished you could share.

But you couldn’t. It sounded like a fable, a tale too good to be true. It sounded like your childhood before.

“I don’t think that’s possible” you levelled him with a resigned look and brushed the drying tears from your cheeks.

Suddenly you wanted nothing more than to burrow underneath the covers and disappear from the world until the morning. Only Alfred had one more thing to say…

“I beg to differ” with his tone urging you to listen, you fell quiet as he continued, “I can’t tell you what to do or think, but… You make him happy” his gaze softened as your heart panged, barely able to sit idly for much longer, “And I know that’s mutual” though there was no need, you nodded weakly, confirming the correct assumption “Love is terrifying, but it’s also worth the pain” unable to withstand the vulnerable moment, you closed your eyes, hiding the pain he could find there; he hit the metaphorical bullseye “Don’t let the fear take it away from you” as Alfred finished the speech you let out a long exhale.

As if sensing you were barely holding on, he stood up from the table and left the dining room. But not without reaching out to squeeze your shoulder first. Only once you were alone did you let the tears flow freely.

You desperately wanted him to be right.

***

Only two days later, things came to a head with the most unexpected beginning. Although it was late, you were still busy with work, reading up on different witness accounts of the aftermath of the flooding. While you were still officially off work for another week, you wanted to make sure you had something to write about as soon as you could. And as much as you wanted to, Riddler’s case was off-limits. The decision was difficult to accept, but it was a no-brainer. You could not write about events that hit so close to home and expect it to be unbiased. And any good at all.

So, with a heavy heart, you began a quest to find something new. To your utmost surprise – Bruce offered to help. And help he did, sharing various stories he has heard during his patrols, dropping hints towards the whispers passed around in the dark. You were more grateful than you knew how to express.

Glancing at the clock in the upper corner of the laptop screen, you groaned at the late hour. Perhaps it was time to finish for the night… Perhaps you could- You never got to end the thought as sudden feedback sound rang out in the study. Its whine made you startle, head snapping up in rapt attention at whatever would follow. That was familiar. A memory from what felt like ages ago. It took you another moment to catch up and recognise the song. The subtle strumming was almost indistinguishable. And then…

You got up before you knew what you were doing. Like a siren call leading sailors to their demise, the increasing volume of the music dragged you down the stairs. Once you got closer, you could hear him sing. Quietly, as if he never wanted anyone to have heard him, but still. His low, gravelly voice was enough to increase the cadence of your heartbeat and make you pick up the pace.

‘You're just like an angel

Your skin makes me cry

You float like a feather

In a beautiful world’

You knew the lyrics well enough to feel the familiar tension fill your chest when you reached the study and held your breath upon the sight.

‘I wish I was special

You're so fuckin' special’

Bruce had his back to you, the broad plane of his shoulders covered with a washed-out black t-shirt. Body hunched over the guitar. Without seeing his face, you knew that his eyes were closed. As the volume grew, his strumming got angrier. Dexterous fingers hit each note as they were supposed to. The pain in his voice perfected the picture and made you tighten your grip on the railing. It was terrifying to think about the song choice and what it meant. Whether it meant anything at all.

The longer you stayed, frozen by the sight, the more you knew you should have never given in to the pull. Because now you could not walk away. Not without talking to Bruce. Even if only just about the music. The longing got almost unbearable.

The guitar’s tone slowed; the riff returned to its gentle opening. Bringing the number to a close. Bruce’s voice turned smooth, rolling over your torn heart like a soothing balm. But only just so. Before you realised it, a solitary tear had rolled down your cheek. You whispered the closing lyrics alongside him:

‘What the hell am I doin' here?

I don't belong here

I don't belong here’

Bruce finished the song with a long exhale. For a moment, you contemplated running back up the stairs like you had never been there. But you could not move. Your mouth opened on its own accord:

“You’ve got a beautiful voice” you winced as Bruce flinched, his body tensing as he turned to face you with a shock evident on his face; still, you trudged on and added, “But that was a rather gloomy choice, don’t you think?” an unconvincing smile graced your face.

Because you knew Bruce would see beneath the mask. He would notice the drying tear on your cheek and the pain in your eyes. That one look would be enough for him to tear you apart.

“It felt accurate” Bruce shrugged, his façade drawn up and ready to hide all hints of emotion.

But you could see him look at you, gaze searching and assessing. Noticing everything there was to see. Like he always did. Unable to withstand eye contact much longer, you let your gaze roam as well. Slipping over his forearms and hands, still carefully holding the instrument. As if he expected you to leave so he could continue. But it was not that easy.

“If you’re a creep, then I’m a weirdo” you gathered enough courage to look back up at him, finding Bruce still gazing back; it was enough of an encouragement to make you drop the nonchalance, a veiled confession ready on your tongue “Kindred freaks and all,”

For the first time since he looked at you, you saw Bruce’s mask slip. A flash of surprise passed through his blue eyes and, then, something more tender. The aching chasm in your chest grew wider as you stepped down from the landing and took a step closer to him. The movement woke him up. Bruce took off the guitar strap from around his neck and placed the instrument back on the stand. Silence echoed in the vast room.

“I didn’t think you’d hear me play” when he raised his head again, part of that wall hiding him from you was gone.

In its place, you could see wary curiosity. As if Bruce did not expect to see you tonight or have this conversation. As if you caught him by surprise. For some reason, the idea settled with heavy guilt in your stomach. Because maybe you were trespassing, bothering him with your presence when he would rather be alone. You swallowed past the sudden lump in your throat and whispered:

“I’m sorry” your body had half made up its mind to turn around on your hell and march up the stairs.

Like you should have done when he finished the song. A goodbye was ready on your lips before Bruce spoke, making you freeze:

“Did you mean it?” the cautious tone arrested your attention.

As did the fleeting hope in his eyes. Gone so fast you assumed you had imagined it. Your heart skipped a beat as you understood what Bruce was asking. There was only one thing it could be. As if eager to spite you, your mind readily offered the memory. A sentence blurted out in a moment of passion. Your undoing, as it seemed. Heat filled your cheeks as you felt yourself shake. Panic took over; its job was simple – you couldn’t admit it. Not yet. Ideally never. So, you did what you do best.

“Mean what?” a confused smile was ready on your lips, masking the descending terror with a weak attempt at deflection, “The line just now? I-”

You should have known better. Bruce interrupted your pathetic one-woman play with a simple injection:

“You know what I mean” frustration rolled off him in waves, making him clench his hands into tight fists as Bruce stared at you with growing desperation.

Urging you to drop the act. But it was too late. The cold panic had settled, freezing you on the hardwood floors. Freezing your mind on that one thought – you couldn’t tell him. He can’t know.

“Bruce, I’ve no-” you tried again, without the foreign smile and bullshit nonchalance.

In your head, a pleading chorus was rising in volume. Drop it. Please drop it. But Bruce did not want to listen. He took a step closer, briefly reaching out his hand before letting fall back down. As if he wanted to touch you but soon realised that would not do.

“Please, just- Don’t lie to me” his voice broke on the last word, pain squeezing your heart like a vice; it only got worse when Bruce added, “I don’t think I can do this anymore” he glanced at you almost passively.

Almost as if he had not just crushed your heart in the palm of his hand with that one sentence. Cold fear rose in your throat as you took a step forward, voice wavering as you asked the only question you could:

“Do what?” even though you knew.

You could feel it in your bones. Bruce was done with this. With you. You could even guess why. And if that was it, the end, then you could not blame him, only yourself. A new wave of tears rose in your eyes as you waited for Bruce to cut the cord and end your suffering.

“This,” he vaguely waved his hand at the space between you before turning to pace the room, restless energy permeating every cell of his body, “It hurts too much to pretend. And- I mean, it’s pretty obvious. You must know by now” what? The question painted itself in the crease between your eyebrows as Bruce glanced at you with passion in his gaze, begging you to understand, “It’s not like I’m good at hiding it anyway” the following scoff was self-directed, as if Bruce was angry with his actions, or lack of them, as well.

But none of that explained what he meant. The bewilderment was evident on your face. You could tell Bruce saw it because he let out a long frustrated sigh. He stopped pacing, eyes trained on the floor as if taking part in a heated debate you were no part of. You reminded yourself to breathe, still frozen in your spot with no pointers towards where it was going. What was going to happen next. You opened and closed your mouth in a question that never quite came and went back to staring helplessly at Bruce. Fully aware of the pained look in your eyes and the shaking in your hands.

Later, you could pinpoint the moment he snapped. When the silence became too much to bear, and Bruce rushed in to fill it with words. More words than you had ever heard him say, unprompted. He walked back towards you, eyes wide and awake despite the late hour. But nothing you could see in his face warned you of what was coming:

“I know I’m new to this whole thing, but… I think I’m in love with you” oh. Oh. The breath hitched in your chest. The sincerity of his confession was the reason why you swayed on your feet, only just managing to grasp the railing before you fell at his feet – literary and figuratively; before you could process what Bruce had said and what it meant, he trudged on, seemingly unable to stop now that he began talking “Hell, I know I am, because nothing has ever torn me apart and put me back together all at once. No one else, but you” remembering to breathe, Bruce took a greedy inhale as his eyes met yours; the blue of his irises was set ablaze with that emotion you could never quite decipher. Until now, “I’m tired of pretending this is fine when it’s anything but. Nights like that last one are the worst because, for a moment, I get to feel what we could have, but then you- You leave, and it hurts twice as much because I know what I’m missing. What I’ll probably never have unless it’s with you” tears rolled down your cheeks as you stared, feeling the fear and love wage war in your heart. It was almost impossible to understand what was going on. And why the pain in his eyes only seemed to grow with each confession, the words dropping heavily onto the space between you, staining the floorboards with blood and despair. Yet still, Bruce’s next words slashed your heart anew, “And sometimes, I think… I think that maybe you’re the same” he looked at you again, the unasked question evident on his face.

A question you could not answer. The fear had won, claiming reign over your head and heart as you stared back. Still too frozen to move. Still unable to understand what had just happened. Bruce loved you. He was in love with you. He reciprocated, even though he did not know it. Fuck. All at once, you wanted to howl - be it from joy or pain, you could not decide. What now?

Your thoughts rushed a hundred miles per hour, spiralling and panicking. Worrying about every single what-if you could think of. All your mouth could form was a plea:

“Bruce, please- Don’t-” you did not even know what you were begging for.

Mercy, mostly. But with every second passing, you began to understand there was no way out of this. For better or for worse.

As if reading your feverish thoughts, Bruce closed the gap between you and reached out a careful hand, letting his fingers skim down the length of your forearm. Immediately, he had drawn attention to the chill you could feel settling in your bones as goosebumps followed his tentative touch. The sole-minded focus was still in his eyes:

“I swear I’ll leave you alone, detach myself from whatever is going on between us, if you’ll tell me I’m wrong” softening his voice a notch, Bruce searched your face, looking for the answers himself, “Tell me you don’t think of me like that and I’ll let it go. I promise” his hand clasped around yours, squeezing your palm as a reassurance that he meant it “Just tell me- Tell me you don’t love me” there, simple.

Or not so simple at all. A shudder went through your body as Bruce repeated the cursed word. Now it was entirely in your hands. The weight was resting on your shoulders, waiting for you to choose. For a second, you considered taking the way out that was still there. Faint and going against every promise you had made to yourself, but it still existed. You could deny everything, tell him he had it all wrong, lie and flee the scene with only the price of Bruce’s wounded heart on your conscience. But you couldn’t. Could not make yourself consider it beyond the basic set of assumptions and potentials.

Instead, you could only offer him an incomprehensible stutter, a collection of sounds paired with the colour draining from your face:

“I can’t- I-” the desire to run was still there, growing stronger with each second Bruce had spent staring at you.

He must have read it in your eyes for the moment you turned on your heel, body poised to run up the stairs, his arms were around you in a second. Caging you with your back pressed to his chest. Your shocked gasp was the only sound you could make.

“Don’t run away from me now,” Bruce’s plea was whispered right into your ear, making you shiver, “Please” only once you had the time to breathe, you noticed how lose his hold was; it would not take much to free yourself, should you want to “I’ve got you” the reassurance got through the white noise in your ears, making you relax.

Even if just by a fraction. You could feel the rise and fall of his breath at your back, the wisps of air across the back of your neck and cheek. One of his hands traced small circles on your arm, slowing your heart rate to a manageable pace. That was it. You couldn’t run from it anymore. You took a deep breath before you spoke:

“I’m so scared,” the admission was easy enough to utter.

A fragment of truth you owed Bruce. The reason for everything, as he would come to understand very soon. His embrace tightened slightly as he pressed a fleeting kiss to the crown of your head. It was almost enough to quieten the panic.

“I know, my love. Trust me. I know” the gratitude at his understanding was quickly overshadowed by the nickname he used.

The heart stuttered in your chest, unable to process it. My love. Two words that had never been aimed at you; have never related to you. A term of endearment you had come to envy in the quiet of your heart, yearning for something you never expected to have. But here it was, within your reach. If only you were brave enough to take it.

You closed your eyes, willing the courage to fill your veins as you pressed your back to Bruce’s chest. He wouldn’t hurt you. The statement filled your head like a mantra as you slowly forced more words out:

“You see me. The real me and it’s scary because what if you come to hate me? I don’t think I could survive that” it all came out in a rush of breath, leaving you gasping.

But it was out there. The truth for Bruce to hear and take in. The bravery was draining the energy from your body as you waited for a reply, a comment – anything at all. Anything to show you he understood.

He did not disappoint, offering you another gentle squeeze before speaking:

“I could never hate you” the certainty in Bruce’s voice was what you later considered as the thing that tipped the scales.

Because, for once, you pushed against the denial and believed him. After all, Bruce was the one with more to lose. The first to reach out. To come clean before you. Goddamn it, if he was brave enough, maybe you could be too… Maybe.

Cold shivers ran through your body as you tried to give voice to the words that had been choking you for days. If not weeks. You never thought to keep track and were too busy keeping them in. Despite everything. Perhaps there was no better time than now.

You squeezed Bruce’s hand to assure him you were not running away and turned in the embrace. It was better that way. Proper. You met his boundless gaze, now filled only with hope and the feeling you had recognised as the love he spoke of. It was enough. With a shaking voice, you released the confession from the prison you had made for it:

“Christ, I- I- I love you” the words came out wavered, and your breath stuttered with each syllable, but the light in his eyes was a reason to go on, “So fucking much it kills me” now that you started, the admissions did not seem to stop, slipping through your lips in a steady stream, slowly gaining speed “I’ve no idea when it happened, only that now you’re all I can think about. Every day, I go crazy because of you. Because I want you so much, I don’t know what to do with all those feelings. Sometimes it feels as though they’re going to tear my heart apart” running out of steam, you swallowed hard against the sudden dryness in your throat; it felt like a fraction of the weight had been lifted, now drowning in the blue gaze that did not stray away from your face. There was one last thing to add, a conclusion stating the obvious “But I’m still afraid,” the cursed punchline you did not seem able to shake off.

Only now, once the words were out, you allowed yourself to look back at Bruce. His shy smile acted like a magnet, drawing out your helpless twist of mouth. Your eyes followed the line of his nose (slightly crooked to the right) up to his eyes. Instantly drowning within the depths of blue irises filled with affection. Almost as if what you revealed did not change anything for him. As if, somehow, it would be alright. He would try rather than run away from you and your complex feelings no one seemed to fully comprehend. Not even you yourself. Too lost in his eyes, you only noticed he had reached up to touch you when you felt the gentle thumb brushing over the apple of your cheek. Caressing your skin and quelling the worries.

“Of what?” Bruce’s simple question acted like the needed push in the right direction.

A reason to put into words and label what you never dwelled on. But now, you had no choice but to piece it apart. Even if only because Bruce deserved it from you. He earned an attempt at trying from you. Because, when faced with the reality that he felt the same, you knew you could not deny it anymore. It was terrifying. And oh, so hopeful. You let the feelings in his eyes anchor you in the moment as you spoke:

“That you’re going to leave. Or something takes you away from me” you could see the recognition pass through his face, making the addition nearly redundant “I don’t have a great track record with love” still, the sad scoff could not be kept in.

There was something freeing in seeing the knowing look on Bruce’s face. In knowing that he understood the feeling, perhaps better than anyone else ever could. That, no matter what happened next, you were placing your heart in the palm of someone who gets it. That you had fallen for that same boy you felt a kinship with days after your childhood ended. It was almost poetic.

“I don’t plan on leaving” when Bruce gave voice to the affirmation, you wanted to believe him.

Because he said it before. Every time you let your insecurities win. You clenched your teeth against the denial bubbling beneath the surface and asked a question:

“Why?” hoping he would know what you meant.

It was the only way you knew of asking him why you were the one to make him care. Why you? Bruce only smiled in response, leaning in to kiss your forehead before effortlessly meeting your gaze and baring his heart. Again.

“Because you’re incredible, beautiful, smart, and you see me. You see Bruce Wayne where everybody else sees a symbol, an idea of who I am” the sincerity of his words made your heart seem too big for your chest, each beat threatening to be the one that would make it implode, “Only you see me as I am” as did the gratitude and love in his gaze.

Showing you that the feeling was mutual. You saw Bruce just as he saw you. Like no one else did. The discovery was enough to make you sure – it was worth it.

Aware of the likely sparks in your eyes and the foolishly lovesick look on your face, you cleared your throat and whispered a question:

“Can I kiss you?” you did not know why it felt necessary to ask when you never did before.

When it was probably a given, considering everything he just said. The only thing you were sure of was that you had to let him know. Had to show how much it meant to hear him say it.

Bruce’s fond smile was an answer enough, but he still brushed away your concerns.

“You don’t have to ask” leaning in, he nudged your nose with his and waited for your decisive move.

After all, it was you who had asked. Getting onto your tiptoes, you returned the playful nudge and placed your hands on his shoulders. From then on, everything was a reflex and acting on well-practised instincts. Your eyes closed as you leaned in, slotting your lips over his in a tender kiss. Bruce responded immediately, tightening his hold over your waist and opening his mouth underneath your tentative tongue. The kiss quickly turned heated, drawing out a muffled gasp from your throat and a half-stifled whine from his. Your fingers tangled in the hair on the nape of his neck as you gently sank your teeth into his bottom lip. Enough so to make Bruce groan and pull you closer.

That long-buried, sentimental part of your brain could tell this kiss tasted different. More carefree, unrestrained. Nothing stopped you from tracing the confessions on his skin as your tongue whispered words only Bruce could hear. You did not think anyone ever kissed you quite like that. Like it was the only thing he wanted to do until the end of time. Like the time spent caressing your lips and body was his holy ritual and never a waste of time. Like it mattered enough to be something Bruce devoted his attention to. Until you broke the contact to catch a breath, you were only his, and he was yours. Then, as your eyes met again, wearing matching infatuated looks, the kiss became a promise of more to come. You noted his blushing cheeks and offered a remark:

“I like what you called me, by the way” from the way Bruce’s eyes lit up instantly, you knew it was no slip of the tongue.

Even more so, it was a reason for your heart to beat faster. He meant it.

“My love?” his gaze traced the movement of your tongue, licking your drying lips.

And collecting the remains of the taste of his kiss. A pleasant shiver ran through your body as Bruce repeated the endearment. You could get used to it.

“Yeah, that’s new” you nodded, not even trying to school your features and erase the hope blooming there.

Bruce smiled, drawing out a gasp from your lips as his fingers crept beneath your shirt, lightly touching the skin on your waist. It almost distracted you from his next words.

“It can stay if you want,” without needing Bruce to elaborate, you knew what it meant; the feeling only grew stronger as he added, “If you’ll stay,” a meaningful pause signing off the conditional.

If. You still had a choice. At least, Bruce seemed to think so. What he did not know was that you had already decided. Or that your heart has chosen for you. There was no alternative there. But the slightest bit of uncertainty in his eyes told you he needed an answer:

“I’ll try to” the honest reply was a perfect opening for another question, one that you had been holding back for a while, “Are you mine?”

It was the final assurance you needed from Bruce if only to convince your head it was safe to give him your heart, body, and soul. For as long as he was willing to have them. For as long as he would have you.

Bruce used his unoccupied hand to squeeze your palm as he lowered his head to catch your eye. You had no doubt he caught the nerves lurking there; impossible to be exiled entirely. Unknowingly, you held your breath, waiting for his answer as if the world depended on it.

“If you’re mine,” Bruce’s reply was simple, bringing out your chuckle at the banter you had fallen into.

The joy was reciprocated, too, if the creases at the corners of his eyes were anything to go by. Not for the first time since you had met, you had been struck by a thought, a recognition that he was beautiful. The sharp features and striking eyes always pulled you in and made it impossible to look away. To stray your eyes from his. To find anyone else worth looking at. At this moment, in the dark gothic study, lit up only by the fireplace and the lamp, you knew it was always a lost cause. You had lost a long time ago.

Instead of replying, you kissed him quickly, relishing in the sharp gasp you got in return. When you parted, an answer was easy to conjure:

“I’m pretty sure you’re the only one willing to put up with this” upon Bruce’s questioning look, you motioned at the meagre space between you, highlighting the truth he might have missed.

That there was no competition there. Only Bruce was willing to endure you for this long and in this way. He was the only one wanting your love and loving you back. You were not quite ready to piece apart why (or how) that could be.

“I’ve always been told I’m relentless” the cheeky uptick of Bruce’s mouth was a hypnotizing sight.

You did not miss the telling glimmer in his eye or the smooth move which resulted in your body being pulled closer to his. Almost flush against his chest. It was impossible to deny your brain’s desire to offer you a recap of every moment you had shared which had begun in that way. And to stifle the shiver and the knowledge that, if the universe were gracious, you would have many more coming. The reminder was enough to make you smile and return the playful smirk:

“Good for me” struck with sudden weariness and feeling the rapidly dropping adrenaline, you tugged Bruce’s hand and wordlessly led him towards the sofa; only once you had fallen onto the cushions with a sigh and curled up next to him, you asked the question “What happens now?”

You knew Bruce would get what you meant. He always did.

You felt him shift, one arm coming up to rest around your shoulders, drawing you closer. The other hand was placed on your knee, providing gentle warmth and helping you stay present with him. It was almost too easy to let go and fall back on his constant support to keep you grounded. The doubts were still there, rising and falling like the natural ebb and flow of the tide, lapping at the edges of your conscience. You suspected they would probably always be there, somewhere. Ready to take over at the tiniest chance of something going wrong. The best you could do was hope that would never happen.

As if sensing your mental chatter getting louder, Bruce leaned in to leave a trail of kisses on the shell of your ear and nuzzled your temple. The resulting sigh was effortless on your part. As always.

“We try not to fuck it up” he had his answer ready, eyes trained on you and waiting for whatever might come up.

You had to admit it sounded simple. Almost doable. But…

“And if we do?” you turned to catch his eyes with what you knew to be a wild gaze.

You needed Bruce to say it. To promise he would fight for whatever you were to become. It had to work. Please. You already knew you would be willing to sacrifice a lot for this fragile thing between you. It was already a fact.

A fact Bruce could undoubtedly see in your gaze, for the confidence bled into his voice as he replied:

“Then we’ll try harder” he grabbed your hand, which restlessly picked at the loose thread on the hem of your shirt and squeezed it.

On a reflex, you threaded your fingers through his and pressed your palms together. You had no choice but to trust him. To do the unimaginable and place your heart in his hands, surrendering control in the process. You swallowed past the fear in your throat and pressed your mouth to the corner of his lips. It felt like an apt conclusion to the conversation long overdue.

A little later, once another kiss had ended, and a new one had not yet begun, you raised your head from its comfortable placement on Bruce’s shoulder and fixed your gaze on the black and white guitar resting on its stand. An in-direct reason you had the conversation in the first place. You briefly contemplated sending a thank-you letter to the manufacturer but were struck with a better idea.

“Bruce?” taking pleasure in how his name rolled off your tongue, you marvelled at the rare peacefulness of the moment.

There was nowhere else to be, nothing else to do. Nothing, but feeling the low rumble of his voice as Bruce hummed.

“Mm?” he kept tracing letters onto the skin of your arm, leaving you to guess their meaning on your own.

Sometimes you were willing to bet he was repeating the confessions he just spoke of. The thought drew an involuntary smile onto your face.

“Play me something” you met his gaze with that same affectionate look in your eyes.

There was no need to specify the request - you knew Bruce would choose well. He only grinned at you in response and disentangled from your embrace to stand up and pick up the instrument. You watched his forearms flex, tendons dancing beneath the pale skin as Bruce placed the strap around his neck and bowed over the guitar. His eyes closed in concentration, but he was not tense. It was a far cry from how you found him over an hour before.

With a breath trapped in your chest, you awaited the first notes. When he began the rhythmic strumming, a fond chuckle escaped your lips. You had to admit Bruce was nothing, if not predictable. Humming the chorus alongside him, you met his questioning gaze. You smiled, mouthing the words that were no longer forbidden. Love you. Sweetheart.

“Something in the way, huh?” the laugh spilling through the gaps between the vowels.

“What? You did not specify” teasing edge you would have never even imagined becoming so accustomed to.

“I knew I didn’t have to,” and then, just to see him roll his eyes with that enamoured exasperation “Babe,”

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fandoomrants · 7 months

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if they're selling the series on being faithful to the books, the most we can aspire to is some cute scenes between them. i doubt they're gonna make canon a ship that's kinda niche (it's big in the marauders part of the fandom, but it's not as common to see it in golden era fanfics, for example). and to be fair, it's really not as canon as the fandom hypes it up to be haha there aren't THAT many intense scenes between them

I mean, when I say "make them canon" is like, hint there was something, once. I totally don't have high hopes for it but nowadays it's more accepted to have queer characters in media than it was when the books and movies came out. For example, there are some rumours going around that JKR made Tonks and Remus canon just so people would stop shipping him with Sirius and I don't quite believe it but on the other hand, I can see it. It wasn't so accepted and widespread to have queer characters. However, I can also see how it can work for them to had been something at some point too, I'll explain more later.

Also, I made a post a while ago saying that I believe Wolfstar is so popular because we've seen these two interact more and as adults too and maybe they wouldn't have been that popular if we had seen their whole story playing out from the beginning because there would have been other characters and dynamics around but at the same time, as far as we are aware, we don't know about any of them being with anyone while they were still younger so one can imagine.

I know it's popular mainly in the marauders fandom but now if we go by canon, I believe that if they were a thing, it was back then. Like, before Sirius went to Azkaban and all that. Otherwise I can see it only in some aus where everyone lives or sth, or basically Sirius doesn't go to prison. Or generally, aus that are set in another universe where none of this happens. And it's just the whole thing of them not seeing each other for 12 years, also Remus thinking Sirius betrayed James and Lily. And, of course, the fact he gets married to Tonks later. And even without the last, I feel like they would have already be too estranged to actually have something as adults. Even if they could have, unfortunately someone dies.

But at the same time, as I said, we have literally nothing to prove that any of them was with anyone else, we know lots of girls liked Sirius but he ignored them and there's this thing in his room where he had posters of Muggle girls on his walls and Remus gets married but the whole relationship between him and Tonks happens wayyy later (obvious reasons here) so these don't mean anything. As far as we're informed, they weren't dating anyone and people don't have to be strictly only straight or only gay for it to be impossible to marry someone but be with someone from another gender as well at some point in your life.

As for the scenes between them, tbh, I reread PoA and their reunion is kinda hilarious as they're both drama queens and act confusing while explaining what's going on, also they literally hug 0.2 seconds after seeing each other for the first time in 12 years and somewhat make this immediate impression that they're very close. In the movie they somewhat made it even more hilarious as Hermione says something like "You and him" while pointing at them and it landed as an even more queer accusation. And I know this doesn't truly prove anything and especially the movie moment won't have any influence on the series but in both cases the scene gives the vibe of closeness between them.

So, yeah, I'll finish this essay with the conclusion that while we have nothing that really indicates them as canon, we also don't have any proof that they weren't either and I'm pretty sure that the fact they're so shipped to the extend of people believing that the author made one marry in order to cancel the ship is just showing that lots of people could see that there might be something. And if they make this something a fact, I think it'll be taken okay by the public, even if they don't ship them. As long as it's not something that'll actually break canon later.

Oh, and just to add this too, the reason why I said in the first place that I'd be happy if they make them canon is because lately in some adaptations of other books, some ships are made canon because they make sense. And here I think they can also make sense, as a thing from the past. So that's my reasoning. It can't work with other popular ships as the characters are canonly with other people and it won't work for them as adults because it'll break other canon events but while they were young(er)... We just don't have a reason against.

Anyways, thanks for the ask!

#hp meta #ask #wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius

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lonelier-version-of-you · 7 months

Text

Well. There was once a time I would have said it was impossible to waste another well-known actor who's on a show for a year and playing a really interesting character with an implied tragic backstory more than Holby did with Paul McGann as John Gaskell.

I take it back. Congratulations, Casualty has wasted Nigel Harman as Max Cristie more than Holby wasted Paul McGann as John. At least John Gaskell's exit was sad in a well-done-story way and had been built up to. This was sad in an infuriating way and has come out of nowhere.

I don't believe this is in character for Max at all. This is just horrible and cold, him walking out on Jodie again like this. Even if he believes she's better off without him, which is the kindest to Max interpretation of his behaviour I can think of... how can he believe walking out while she's still recovering is what's best for either of them?

Look. Max Cristie is not and never has been a good man. He's a volatile, selfdestructive, emotionally dysregulated mess with anger issues who makes other people's lives worse as well as his because he has a terrible sense of judgement about what he should or shouldn't do. He runs away when things get tough and is frightened of emotional intimacy. He has also been a terrible dad to Jodie.

But he was trying to get somewhere with her and cared about her in some sort of messed-up repressed way. Maybe not enough, maybe not the way he should have done, but in some way. And I don't believe he could have done this if he cared about Jodie in any way.

As I say, Max running away when things get hard is something we've seen in him before. More metaphorically than Henrik - who I always think to compare him to because I think they're very alike in personality - perhaps, and more metaphorically than he did tonight, but it's not unheard of. But this was just terribly handled.

This would have been cold and hard to believe coming from Henrik. From Max, it makes no sense at all.

It might've done something if we'd heard anything about him wanting to work elsewhere before. Even a few lines, from Dylan maybe - "Max, you never could settle down for long" or something like that - would have done a lot to establish that he can't be expected to stay. Similarly, maybe if Max's backstory had been explained at any point - instead of vague implications of some sort of traumatic or difficult past that are never explained - this might be more believable. It's not forgivable, but it could have been written in such a way as to be understandable. As it is? I can't even say it's that.

I mean, seriously, Max gets three scenes in his last ep? Three scenes and that's it? All because about 90% of the time was going to Faith and Iain drama that I do not care about. Argh. I already felt unwell with a headache today, I didn't need this too.

There's definitely not going to be any aftermath for Jodie either, is there? She should be devastated by this, realistically. She should really struggle to trust others after this. But I don't think any of that will happen. We'll be lucky if we get one scene of her saying she's sad about it after this week.

The Faith and Iain stuff just really upsets me. The way Faith behaves towards and about Natalia is awful to see and I'm tired of the show pretending Faith isn't abusive. And now Iain's being awful too. Natalia is a grown woman - a young one, yes, but a grown woman nonetheless (she's, what, 19-ish? 18 at the youngest) - and yet they talk down to her and patronise her constantly. She's struggling, and they're just seeing her as a "problem" to put up with. I can't stand it. Obviously her behaviour towards Iain was also out of line, but it's understandable why she's misreading him and I don't think the way he's reacting will do anything good for her. Though tbf he did already try to let her down gently, I suppose. Also, I relate to Nat a lot so I can't be 100% sure I'm coherent on this. I might be projecting too much.

It was nice for Jacob to get screentime, but he can't bond with Siobhan soon enough - I'm tired of him being Iain's life advice counsellor.

There were some great patient storylines tonight. It was nice to see Dylan in Dylan Disability Advocacy Keogh mode again, and I thought the story with Charlie's patients was handled very sensitively.

I'm so glad Charlie apologised to Stevie. She deserved it, and it was a lovely scene. For once, I agree with Charlie - Stevie is great and I hope to see her back soon.

Next week, we get Zoe Hanna back! Yay!

#BBC Casualty #Max Cristie #Casualty spoilers #tw;abuse mention

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ivykim · 2 years

Text

shining star – haenoo/suny

masterlist // wattpad

SUMMARY: sunoo had always admired ivy since I-LAND. she was perfect in his eyes. he never understood the booming feeling he felt against his chest. however, the more he learns about ivy, the more he falls for her.

– “shining star, that’s what she is.”

sunoo remembers the moment ivy walked in. he was in awe. her visuals lit up the whole room. she was shining.

“noona, you’re really pretty.” sunoo says as he tries to make a convo with her. ivy giggles.

“no, I am not that pretty.” ivy denies. “sunoo-shi, you’re so handsome.”

“thank you, noona.” sunoo shyly says.

even her voice was pretty.

they were one of the many thoughts sunoo had. anyone would be lucky to date her. she was really pretty. lovable too. sunoo sighs. she was definitely going to be in the debut team.

“sunoo!!! congrats you got first!” ivy hugs sunoo. sunoo couldn’t believe it, he was in shock. disbelief even. he wraps his arms around ivy and hugs her back.

"this is our first hug." he whispers. ivy smiles.

"i should hug you more than." ivy says.

sunoo was charmed. ivy knew her way with words and he liked it. he never noticed his beating heart racing. maybe he would worry about that later. for now, he knew he liked this feeling.

"we are in the same team!" ivy squeaks. sunoo smiles. ivy was truly adorable.

"noona, you forgot about me." he pouts. ivy gasps. she goes to hug him.

"i'm so sorry, sun."

"it's alright."

while the others went to hug the other trainees, sunoo stays back watching everyone interact. his eyes fell onto ivy, her laughter ringing in her ears.

"your mouth is open, sunoo." jay says. the younger male closes his mouth and turns his head to jay. "noona is really pretty, huh?"

"she is."

"do you like her?"

"hmm? what do you mean?" sunoo asks.

"do you like her as more than friends?"

did he like her as more than friends? it was impossible. she was way out of his league. she would definitely suit heeseung or the older members but not him.

sunoo shakes his head, "i don't have any feelings for her. i just admire her."

jay pats his back. sunoo's heart racing once more as he turns to look over at ivy.

sunoo was mesmerised. ivy looked really pretty. well, she was always pretty but today she especially looked pretty. though, she was in her home clothes. the other boys had their own schedules whilst ivy and sunoo didn't exactly have anything to do.

"oh, sunoo. come here." ivy pats on the couch. sunoo goes over and settles down.

"let's watch something, it's been a while since we've got free time!"

sunoo hums. ivy tilts her head at the lack of response from sunoo. however, she simply shrugs it and just continues to scroll to find the drama they were both binging. they were halfway through the episode, ivy attempts to lay her head on sunoo's shoulder but he moves away. ivy glances at sunoo.

"okay, what's wrong? you have been avoiding my touch ever since promotions ended." ivy huffs.

"just tired."

"sunoo, even if you're tired you would always come to me."

sunoo sighs, "are you and sunghoon hyung dating?"

"uh, well." she sighs, "we are."

"oh." he attempts to stand up but ivy holds his wrist.

"sunoo..."

"i just. i feel something that i don't know how to describe whenever i see you with the hyungs. i know i shouldn't be possessive but i can't help it."

"sunoo, are you jealous?"

"huh? why would i be jealous?"

"because you like me?" ivy reasons.

"that's impossible, noona."

she leans closer and sunoo's breath hitches. he could feel his face heating up. their lips nearly touching.

"noona."

ivy leans back, "sorry. i shouldn't have done that."

it was silent between them. ivy stands up.

"i'll leave. i'm sure you're uncomfortable." sunoo grabs her wrist.

"noona, wait."

"i haven't experienced anything like this before so i'm scared. crushes, liking someone and being jealous is all new to me. i'm afraid i might mess up. what if i'm not someone you'd like to date."

"sunoo..." ivy cups his cheek. "you don't have to force yourself to get in a relationship. i understand it's your first time. you don't have to be afraid. honestly, being in a relationship is just like being friends. just with the intimacy and labels."

"but noona, i know i want to be with you."

"then do you want to be my boyfriend?"

sunoo nods. ivy smiles. she pecks his forehead.

"can we continue watching?"

"yes."

"can we cuddle?" ivy asks.

"most definitely."

and so ivy and sunoo cuddled on the couch as they watched their drama. the both of them giddily thinking about their new step into their relationship.

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pynkhues · 1 year

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Ik this is kind of an impossible question lol but in your opinion top 5 succession episodes or top good girl episodes. Episodes that you would rate a 5 star ⭐ or eps that you'll never get tired of rewatching

Ooo, I've done Good Girls a few times, so let's go Succession. Honestly, I think I've rewatched every episode a zillion times at this point, and it's so hard for me to not go with real 'event' eps like What It Takes, DC and Argestes where the show's firing on all cylinders politically, but at the end of the day, I'm here for the family drama, so my Top 5 are going to be centred around that.

Also let's not include s4 since it's so recent, annnnd let's go with them in chronological order as opposed to fave orders, because that might literally be impossible for me, haha.

1.07 - Austerlitz

I've talked about it before, but the one-two punch of 1.06 and 1.07 is really what hooked me on the show. I'd been enjoying it, but these two episodes are such a perfect bait and switch and an incredible encapsulation of what it is that makes the show so good. While I love the absolute heart pounding anxiety/adrenaline rush of 1.06, nothing beats the family therapy episode for me. It's got everything - Connor's house in the desert, forced family bonding, subterfuge, relapses, collateral damage in the shape of famous family therapist's teeth, Shiv cheating on Tom, Shiv calling Logan out on leaking stories about Kendall, Roman picking Kendall up, Kendall defending Shiv, the reveal of Logan's own physical abuse. Literally a perfect episode of TV, I love it so so so much.

2.01 - The Summer Palace

I wasn't sure whether to put 1.10 here, which is absolutely showstopping, jawdropping TV, but if I only have five slots, I think The Summer Palace slightly ekes it out for me? I think I've rewatched it more at the very least, and in particular the scene with Logan and Shiv where he picks her is one of my favourite of the entire show. Sarah and Brian are both just on fire in that scene, and for a moment - just a moment - you can see them both really believe that she's it. The thing about the show, is that I really think one of the reasons it works is because Logan himself believes his bullshit at least some of the time, and I know there are people who disagree, but I do think he loved them, and this episode reveals both the highs and the lows of that love for all four kids.

2.04 - Safe Room

The show always balances humour and tragedy well, but I don't think it ever balances that in one episode as well as it does here. The fallout of a gunshot in the office is the sort of catalyst moment Succession's always done well, but seeing Greg and Tom scrambling (Greg's 'An attack child!" line is maybe the funniest he's ever been to me on this show), contrasted against the very human drama of Logan clearly worrying something's happened to Kendall, and Shiv not understanding the full implications, are just the best sorts of human family drama to me. Also Roman's management training is one of my favourite B-plots the show's ever done. Also-also, we've had a few great hugs on this show now, but Shiv and Kendall's in this episode is literally everything to me.

3.07 - Too Much Birthday

Look, I don't make it a secret that I'm a Kendall girl, haha (although I really do love all four of the Roy sibs), plus a group sibling scenes fan, plus a big fan of Lorene Scafaria's directing, so this ep was pretty much tailor-made for me. The art direction, the pacing, the energy, the - to quote Jesse Armstrong - straight line down of it all is pretty much pefect, with the golden trio all being their ugliest, messiest selves in the way they only truly are with each other, even or especially when they're on the outs. It just gets to me in all the best ways.

3.09 - All the Bell's Say

Literally an episode of all time for me, of any show. I don't think I've ever experienced the level of catharsis from tv that I did the first time I saw Kendall tell Shiv and Roman what he'd done at her wedding in the s1 finale, and I think I've watched that episode, and that scene, a million times at this point. It's etched into my brain, it's everything to me, and I know we're in for a bumpy ride this season, but as I keep reminding myself, we'll always have Tuscany.

Ask me for my Top Fives

#thank you!#i'll probably change my mind on some of these tomorrow #the whole show is just amazing #and these were just the five that immediately fought for real estate in my head #now i'm curious what other people's favourite episodes are haha #top five ask game #hbo succession #welcome to my ama

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dxy-drxxm · 1 year

Text

⭐ | COMMISSION IV : Backstage Wreckage

"Wrecking a wedding is... One of the pettiest things one can do, that's for sure."

"Is it?" Navina asked, currently in the middle of eating their lunch for the day. "I think it's justified."

Kunimitsu raised an eyebrow at what they said, almost perplexed to think it was even morally okay.

"What?" they asked, scoffing. "It's an ex, Kuni. Would you ever want to be invited by your ex after finding out the shit they did? To a wedding, no less? Ugh, I'd rather not."

"Hmph. You say that like you're not pretending to deny it," the man interjected, making them guffaw. Despite having been eating somewhat of a heavy meal, he could tell the matter amused them.

"Hah! I'm not even gonna deny it— I think it's fun if we took it!"

His eyes widened at their sudden decision, making them grin as they took their final bite with their meal. Humming in satisfaction, they reached over to wipe their mouth and drink their cup, emptying it's contents.

"Ah, it's going to be a first for me to attend the wedding, though," they continued, giggling at the idea. "I've never attended to one, so it'd be fun to see what it's like. Ooh, what dress should I wear, though? I can't wear white, as far as I'm concerned..."

While Navina was in their own mindless venture to how they can sabotage the wedding with their client, Kunimitsu watched them. From the way they seem so... Keenly excited of this happening, he couldn't help but think twice about all of this.

...

It's been 5 days since I've got them here, he thought, watching them with a look of... Adoration, but to many who can see his expression, it looked sick. Obsessive.

Hah, 5 days and we only have the half of it left? I don't want to think it'd end so soon.

...

I refuse to see it end soon.

His lips curled to a frown at the idea.

So as long they keep that necklace on them, they'll be staying with me, he mused, ignoring his beloved heart calling. They won't be taken by that blasted abyss, just like those that we've met before.

It's not like they'll remember anything after the 10th day mark, if they kept it.

And it'll certainly make things easier with those people.

"—ni? Kuni?"

All I have to do is to keep them separated from her, and—

"Kunimitsu?"

He blinked a few times as he heard his beloved call to him, noticing that they looked rather worried.

... Huh.

Worried? Why are they—

"I'm fine, idiot," he scowled, returning back to his normal expression. "Anyways, what was it?"

"Oh, I was just calling out to you to tell you I paid," they said, though they did look rather worried. "You were spacing out and muttering something about that necklace, so..."

... Shit.

"I'm fine, see?"

... Although he said that, he could tell they didn't believe him.

"Yeah," they nodded, but they weren't smiling. "I hope so."

Meeting up with the client and planning for how they can crash the wedding is a different ordeal. To Kunimitsu, his way of crashing it would end in more drama than the two can handle, but he knew better than to tell them.

However, what the two had in mind was... Simply put, quite diabolical. And he had a feeling that it would simply just end in jeopardy if they screwed it up.

It was past afternoon when Navina had met up with one of the people working in a wedding shop, and with their client in tow, they managed to convince the workers that they were shopping for wedding dresses for their 'friend', and needed to try it on with her.

Kunimitsu waited outside of the shop as his partner began to do the impossible— taking a random dress and having her with them to find the room that the groom's side was keeping for the suits.

Yes, it worked mostly to cater for the brides in their attire and dresses, but there was a side for the grooms, and they were lucky enough to have scored a good one as the ex of hers made the grave mistake of sending a photo attached to their client.

Which, of course, was the sight of the tuxedo he'd be wearing the day of.

After a while, Navina left the store with their client, stating that they haven't found any that they'd like and would come by another time. To the workers, they were understanding and wished them both the best of luck as they left to meet with Kunimitsu.

"Do you think ruining the suit would work?" their client asked, watching as Navina stuffed the evidence in their bag with a hum.

"Oh, I know it will. Besides, your ex did say in his letter that his suit is custom made, right?"

"Yes?"

"Now, if a custom-made suit is ruined... He'd certainly be in a pickle on what to wear," they added, almost like ruining something so expensive isn't a big deal. "We'll just get to hear the aftermath in the wedding, if you want to attend, of course."

Kunimitsu shook his head as the client agreed, knowing that with them around to see the wedding... It was bound to turn into chaos.

Hmph. I doubt it'll end well when tomorrow comes, he thought, watching the client leave with a thanks and handing them her payment to get back home.

But seeing those dresses outside did made him think of marriage. Perhaps, in a few years time, he would also be that groom and get married to them.

... At least, he hoped so.

#☁️ | to a special someone #☁️ | drafted anecdotes #☁️ | astro-attorney bias ; approved by archons

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learntfromamillionmistakes · 2 years

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Also would love to hear more about this theory "I maintain that they'd decided the documentary was going to be centred around Gina and Ricky in ep 4 and I will die on this hill". Had the same feelings because channing been focusing on Ricky but idk how to articulate it

I completely forgot that my ask box was open, you can tell I disappear off of here between seasons 😂

This got super long and is essentially a brain dump, so I'm sorry 😂 but I basically just didn't stop typing

Corbin just had SUCH a knowing look when he saw Ricky's reaction to LIAOD, to the point where he got Channings attention and asked what Ricky thought and then when Ricky walked out

And there's still the night in the woods - he must have been watching them (you see a shadow or something running through the woods, I want to say before a group scene? I'm not sure) so maybe Channing actually saw something that night and told Corbin then the next day Corbin is like dude catch this! About Ricky's reaction

I can't remember what I said in that post (if I even said anything else) but I do think that Corbin might have said that they weren't suitable for the doc just to add some pressure and see what would happen, move things along if you like (I feel like I'm not saying this properly but hopefully you get me) and it worked, they set up the whole thing where Ricky and Gina were exs and Ricky still had feelings for Gina - they knowingly played into what Corbin wanted but just didn't realise that he was doing it on purpose

There's also E* stay in your lane Bowen comment that it's impossible not to see that E* isn't thrilled about Ricky being near Gina

Everyone knows a love triangle sells, always has always will - even though we all complain about them, and Ricky hasn't exactly been great at hiding his feelings, E* hasn't been great at hiding his feelings towards Ricky, and Gina (bless her) has been trying with E* but at the end of the day her chemistry with Ricky is undeniable

There's also Channings comment to them when they're out in the little porch bit (is that what they're called? My brain isn't working) 'break up the rebound or something' so he clearly knows, and is openly acknowledging their relationship with each other (though I don't think he said that to create drama' since he wasn't recording - though this assumes they don't have cameras anywhere else)

And even if LIAOD wasn't where they decided to make it about them then the second Channing got Ricky confessing on camera it 100% became about them because all of a sudden a couple moments and some tension went from theory to real - but he never would have been filming them secretly if he wasn't making it about them because why not film the camps main actual couple who were clearly a bit tense with each other? Answer: he saw the chemistry during WDYKAL, everyone did - it's actually the only time we've had the east high lot kinda acknowledge anything between Ricky and Gina as a pair, and he probably knew that Ricky was seconds away from saying something to someone. Did he break up Ricky and Gina talking because he thought he might confess in that moment? I don't know. But I do really think he knew Ricky was on the edge and all he had to do was sit patiently and wait for him to say it

Love triangles sell in EVERY media, everyone knows that, including the campers who put it into their little formula! So there is zero way, in my mind, that Corbin and Channing - who both have experience in the media - were around them and didn't notice the love triangle gold right in front of them and decide to focus on that in the documentary

#ricky x gina #hsmtmts

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twh-news · 3 years

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'Loki' Full Season 1 Review: The Most Frustrating Thing Is How Incomplete the Story Feels

Editor's note: The following contains spoilers through the Season 1 finale of Loki, "For All Time. Always."

[TWH-NEWS note: Tom is NOT confirmed to be on Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness even though the article so claims. Marvel hasn't confirmed it.]

The Loki season finale is perhaps one of the most vexing episodes of television I have seen in quite some time. The Disney+ sci-fi drama, tracking the events following Loki's (Tom Hiddleston) escape from the pre-established timeline, was never confirmed to be an ongoing show versus a limited series, with rumors of a second season on the horizon from the beginning, so the biggest twist delivered by "For All Time. Always." ended up being confirmation of a Season 2 with a post-credits title card.

However, while there were other key reveals made during the episode, those reveals left behind plenty of story to explore in future seasons. Too much story. There's a difference between a few dangling plot threads and a mess of string, and the staggering number of questions left unresolved by "For All Time. Always." crosses a line when it comes to completion — especially given the fact that there's no clear sense of when the show might return, and the real story being told is much bigger than the fate of one mischievous scamp.

In general, every episode of this show was beautifully made, with immense credit going to director Kate Herron, head writer Michael Waldron, and the creative team. The cast of known all-stars like Tom Hiddleston, Owen Wilson, and Gugu Mbatha-Raw, blended with new all-stars like Sophia Di Martino and Wunmi Mosaku, did a remarkable job of grounding even the most fantastical moments in raw humanity, and the writing popped with verve and wit. Also, Loki does come full circle on what was its original raison d'etre — the redemption of a character who literally was plucked out of the timeline at his worst, having attacked Manhattan with an alien force so destructive that the Earth needed a whole damn team of superheroes to stop him. On this score, the show was wildly successful, breaking down Loki's sense of grandeur and purpose in the first episode and then slowly but surely rebuilding him into a man capable of evolving beyond his past. Loki did more to examine a single character's psychology and motivations than we've ever seen in the context of the MCU, and all of the progress and growth made by the character, as a result, feels truly earned.

However, if Loki's redemption was the only thing this show had been about, it would have been a very boring show, and Loki was far from boring. The official theme of the series was "What makes a Loki a Loki?" but the real issues being raised were far more existential; in so many ways, this was a show about faith and free will, an undercurrent that deserves more exploration and frankly appreciation, especially after the questions and themes left dangling by the last episode.

This element proved to be key to so much of the show's construction, especially when it comes to the TVA, which basically functions as a religious order — its devotees slavishly sacrificing their lives to the cause of protecting the Sacred Timeline. It's not subtle, especially when the dark side of it is revealed, those devotees learning that their service happened against their will. "We can't take away people's free will, can't you see that?" Mobius pleads with Ravonna in their final scene together, before she walks away in something resembling agreement with him, telling him that she's going in search of free will herself.

Loki Season 1, by the end, becomes a show not just about a crisis of faith, but about an apocalypse. Every time a story about apocalypses comes up, I find it impossible to forget that the Greek word from which the term originates actually means "revelation." That's why the part of the Bible about the world ending is called the Book of Revelations, but beyond that, the definition serves as a reminder of why endings can matter. Endings are beginnings, in some ways. A painful breakup reveals the flaws in what might have seemed like a loving relationship. Extreme climate change is a revelation regarding humanity's callous attitude towards its impact on the environment. For the characters of Loki — perhaps the entire MCU — the apocalypse they're facing following the destruction of the Sacred Timeline also means the revelation of what lives they left behind.

Certainly there's a ton of room for speculation as to what lies ahead for these characters, but the fact is that the next chapter of Loki's journey won't even be told on Disney+, as Hiddleston is reportedly in Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness, and there's no telling when we might return to resolve the events of the Season 1 finale. Cliffhangers are one thing; anyone who grew up watching '90s TV learned the hard way how to handle the dramatic season endings of The X-Files or Star Trek: The Next Generation. But Loki didn't dangle its characters off a cliff — it pushed them off the edge, leaving them suspended in mid-air for who knows how long.

Back in the days of The X-Files you at least knew that whatever jaw-dropping cliffhanger the season finale had just delivered would be addressed by the season premiere in just a few months. (Maybe as many as six months, depending on the baseball season.) That's a sense of certainty that Loki fans do not have the luxury of enjoying; based on where the conversations around a second season currently stand, it could be a while before the contracts are even signed. Conservatively, at this point, it feels unlikely that we'll get a second season of Loki until near the end of 2022, and given that the first season took over two years from its announcement to now to actually debut, 2023 doesn't feel like too much of a stretch. Maybe Owen Wilson and Gugu Mbatha-Raw get to make cameos in Doctor Strange 2 as well? Nothing is possible and everything is possible. We just have to wait for the answer, and in the meantime stew in dissatisfaction.

"Only one person gets free will. The one in charge," Ravonna tells Mobius — implicitly referring to He Who Remains (Jonathan Majors). Who, speaking of, is now dead, Sylvie having completed her one primary quest to revenge herself upon the ones who took her life away. That, combined with the Wizard of Oz parallels, makes this a show that's fascinating to parse (Sylvie literally killed God!), but frustratingly incomplete in its themes. Literally as the episode officially ended on the visage of Kang enshrined as the ruler of the TVA, I said out loud "Well, there's going to be a Season 2," and I suppose that thanks are owed to Marvel and Disney+ for not leaving that element in suspence for more than two minutes and two seconds.

But if I have a religion, it's my belief in the power of storytelling, how the myths we create for ourselves and others can shape lives and hopefully make them better. One tenet of that is the idea that great stories deserve some sense of completion. So, the first season of Loki committed a pretty grievous sin.

#There's no confirmation on Tom being in the next Doctor Strange film!!!#loki #loki series #review #article #collider #loki spoilers #spoilers #loki series spoilers

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somersetmummy · 3 years

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(A/N): This fic takes place immediately following book 1 chapter 11 (after being rescued by Sam from Sofia's closet). Not going to lie, I originally posted this monster fic (7000+ words) on Wattpad as a whole (my first fic, I didn’t know better!) so I’ve taken the opportunity to re-write and condense but thought it read better as two parts.

Series/Pairing: The Nanny Affair (M!Sam Dalton x MC Katie Hide)

Original characters - all property of PB: Katie Hide (MC), Sam Dalton, Mason & Mickey Dalton, Jenny Blake, Robin Flores (Part Two only)

New characters: (Present in Part Two) Serena-Rose Warren, Tessa Finch, Lucinda Hansen

Rating/Content warning: 18+ Light sexual language

Word Count: 1880

Summary: Driving home together, Nanny Katie Hide and her boss Sam Dalton get a little hot and steamy after she receives an offer of a night out with the girls.

Find Part Two here.

Part One -

The companionable silence within the car provides a stark contrast to the chaos of rush hour on the streets outside. Sam leisurely meanders through the traffic seemingly taking care not to rush the journey, enjoying a rare opportunity for the two of them to steal a fleeting moment to themselves. With their fingers laced together resting on his thigh, as his other commands control of the steering wheel, she steals a lingering glance in his direction relishing in the flutters which catch in her stomach as he notices her watching him. His lips curl into a comfortable smile in reply of her unspoken affection and it takes all his might to keep his eyes on the road.

In the footwell below her feet the distant hum of a phone, neglected in her bag, buzzing faintly to itself punctuates the quiet once again, as it has been for the last ten minutes. Tired of being ignored, the buzzing transforms into a piercing ring causing its owner to startle and refocus. Untangling her fingers from Sam's she reaches down to collect it, her frustration at being interrupted quickly forgotten when she sees her friend's name on the home screen.

"Finally!! So you are alive!" Jenny squeals down the phone without restraint. The smirk on Sam's face is unmissable as he recognises the shrill voice on the other end of the phone. Katie returns his glance with an eye roll of her own as she braces herself for an interrogation.

"Ok, ok I get it, I'm here now. What's up?"

"You need to ask that gorgeous boss of yours to give you Friday night off, we're taking you out and I won't take no for an answer! It's about time we had a girls night, we've barely seen you since you've been living it up with that sex god."

Katie winces hoping Sam hadn't heard that last bit, subtlety was never Jenny's strong suit. She knows she doesn't need to consider her answer, just thinking of how much she's missed her friends the last few months sparks a pang of guilt deep in heart. A night free from the drama of fiancés, stolen glances and torturous longing sounds perfect.

"That actually sounds great Jen, I'll try my best to come. Aren't we pushing it to get a spot at any of the good places though if we're leaving it this late..."

Jenny scoffs, feigning disbelief that Katie would think she didn’t already have a master plan. If she wasn’t her best friend she’d feel a little insulted.

"You don't think I'm already all over that?! And I mean literally, I've got Josh on the case for us and I definitely got all over that!"

The smugness in her voice carries her words and Katie can't help but giggle as she pictures how her unabashedly forward friend would've convinced her current flavour of the month Joshua Demarco, to use his connections to get them access to the hottest new bar in town. She'd no doubt that while a few flutters of eyelashes and some kind words would have sufficed, it was more likely that Jen would have insisted on giving him something more in return. And that something would most definitely not have been PG.

As the more outgoing and vocal half of their partnership, Jenny has always had a way of charming everybody she meets, her connection with people is effortless, something which Katie finds both admirable and terrifying.

While some could argue that Katie too could charm and impress people effortlessly, she is undoubtedly more comfortable in the background, observing and understanding how things work before weighing in. She notices the details, picking up on key points of conversation, getting to know people on a personal level and drawing on their connections to help assert herself. Jen needed to be visible at all times, she was like the sun, drawing people in to her warmth and reflecting her own energy back at them in return.

"I'll leave it with you then Jen, just text me with the details and I'll see if I can make it. And I don't mean the steamy details of you and Josh, you can save those to share with me over cocktails!" Sam's intensely brooding gaze falls upon her, no doubt trying to glue together the pieces of conversation he'd just overheard. She turns to him realising he probably already suspects there’s a further story to be told. They’d not yet shared much about their lives beyond the penthouse but he’d heard enough to know that she could be easily influenced by her impulsive friend.

"Jen I'd better go, speak soon."

Returning the phone to the depths of her bag, she catches Sam's eye, his expression warm but curious, clearly waiting for her to elaborate.

"Would you mind if I took the night off on Friday? Jen's asked if I can meet her and some friends, we haven't seen each other for ages...."

Unsure where the feeling comes from, the urge to say more rushes over her like a wave crashing on the shore. It’s the same as the feeling of nervousness she had that night a few weeks ago at the diner, almost like first date nerves. Perhaps, she realises, they’ve resurfaced because her whole life has been tangled with his for the last few months, she's not really sure how to break out of it and step back into her own, or whether he'll let her.

"Obviously I'll make sure I get the boys dinner sorted, the place tidy, laundry done and get them to bed before I head out....and I won't stay out late, I wouldn't want to cause any disruption....unless you've got any pressing work or meetings which means you'll be home late... I can cancel, I know it's short notice..."

"Woah, who are you, Cinderella?!"

The mirth in his tone instantly relaxes her as she realises he's only teasing. While attempting, and failing, to look defiant her nose inevitably crinkles, unable to contain the laughter bubbling to the surface at the silliness of her outburst. He leans over gently resting his hand on her knee to placate her, stroking her delicate skin with his thumb.

"Of course you should go out with your friends."

"Really?"

"Definitely." He continues, "as much as I would love to keep you to myself I know that you have a life of your own to live too and you, more than anyone, deserve to go out and enjoy yourself."

Sweeping his hand into her own, she gracefully brings it to her lips, tickling featherlight kisses along his knuckles.

"Thank you....but I don't know that you'd really want me to let my hair down if you knew how our girls nights usually play out..."

A wicked smile casts on her lips as she looks at him from under her long eyelashes, she continues to caress his hand, her lips teasing his skin with every word. He struggles to keep his eyes on the road, his mind racing with the many possible indiscretions which he imagines could take place on girls night, especially with Jenny at the helm. The visions in his mind entrance him and he can't decide whether he wishes he was part of them, or that she wasn't.

"I see, a bit of an every man for himself situation is it?!"

He pulls her hand over to his lap where he secures it on his thigh under his own. His hope that by keeping his hand on hers he can keep her grounded to him before losing her to the inhibitions of the impending night out.

"Let's just say it'll be a hot mess of short skirts, high heels, cocktails and getting sweaty on the dance floor."

Realising that the car has come to a stop at a red light she turns to Sam looking him straight in the eye as she slides her hand brazenly up his thigh. She can feel his pants straining to contain what's growing within them while his chest visibly rises and falls more rapidly, struggling to control the pulsing hunger running through him.

"But don't worry, we usually only break a few hearts".

Unable to restrain himself any longer, he launches across the centre console, holding her head in his hands and devouring her mouth with his hungry wet lips. She lets herself fall deeply into his kiss, smiling against him as she thinks to herself that she should ask for time off more often.

The light turns to green and then red again, disgruntled drivers behind sounding their horns in annoyance as the immaculate silver Audi blocks their path, but neither occupant notices as they loose themselves in one another.

Her gentle hands press against Sam's muscular chest, marvelling in the ripples beneath her fingers, before sliding them up into his hair pulling him deeper into the kiss. He keeps one hand firmly at the back of her neck, anchoring her to him while the other roams down the curves of her body, his thumb tweaking a now erect nipple before grasping at her hip.

Intruding on their entanglement, the sound of the in-car phone system echoes around the plush detailing of the car, with 'Home' appearing on the display. Breaking apart in surprise, they finally catch a breath. Sam rests his forehead intimately against hers as he gives the voice command to answer the call and Mason's innocent voice pours out of the speakers.

"Hey dad, are you gonna be home soon? We're staaarving." It's impossible for Katie not to break into a smile as she thinks about the boys at home with Carter, no doubt teaching him all sorts of tricks which she'd never let them get away with. Sam notices her thoughtful smile and matches it with his own as their minds work as one imaging the same scene. Their eyes once again meet as they resign themselves to the intimate moment being lost, instead committing it to memory to recall again when the urge to immerse themselves in thoughts of each other inevitably come to call.

"Yeah buddy, I've just picked up Katie and we're heading home now."

The smile in Mason's voice is evident as his tone becomes more upbeat.

"Oh great, Katie's with you?...Hey Katie!"

"We missed you today, why'd you have to spend the day with Suck...I mean with Sofia anyways?!" Mickey interrupts, his fear of missing out pushing him to insert himself in the conversation.

Sam and Katie stifle their giggles at Mickey's slip of the tongue, aware of the microphone above their heads. Sam places a soft kiss on Katie's forehead before pulling away begrudgingly as she in turn adjusts her position, smoothing over her now crumpled skirt.

"Hi boys, I missed you too. I was just helping her with some grown up work stuff, definitely not as fun as a day with you monkeys though.”

Much to the relief of the drivers behind them, Sam's already breezing through the now green light towards the penthouse, this time with more urgency as the sky above begins to melt into dusk.

"How about your dad and I pick up some pizza on our way back...."

Without even a moments hesitation the twins excited voices burst through the speakers once again.

"Score!"

Tag List: @shewillreadyou @txemrn @silma-words @thefrenchiemama @secretaryunpaid @sfb123 @fanjessfic

#sam dalton #sam dalton x mc #tna #the nanny affair #fanfic #choices

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bansept · 4 years

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Family festival

A very big shout-out to @star-snail whose Ichihime fanart inspired this fanfic : it is a very beautiful piece that just radiates peace and love and fun to me, so I tried my best to convey this in a written way. I hope I do their work justice 🙃

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Japan is the land of festivals, Ichigo is pretty darn sure of that. He is far from complaining, especially because it allows all his family to reunite so that they can eat sweets, have fun, pray and just, be together.

For days, the house down the street of the Kurosaki clinic had been filled with excited chatters of both Orihime and Kazui, the little boy asking his mother about this and that story, his mother explaining with great details. The 5 year-old had looked at her like magic was pouring out of her mouth, which was probably the case, to him. Kazui had asked about many festivals, including the Tanabata one, which of course brought tears to his eyes.

"B-but why did they part away? Why aren't they together!"

He wasn't a fussy boy, very far from it. He was calm and collected, and obeyed all instructions, but when it involved anything bad, even remotely linked to his parents (a name in this case), he was crying.

So Ichigo had to assure him that no, mommy wouldn't go in the stars, no, they wouldn't be separated. Yes, he could have a big kiss from papa.

"Ichigo, come get Kazui please!" Orihime called out from their room, and her husband complied, leaving the kitchen to tickle his son, who was playing with a few toys near their sofa.

The boy laughed at the fingers on his sides, wriggling in his dad's arms. He shook his tiny legs to try to get him out of such a monstrous grip, but Ichigo had him in a hug in an instant, his son up in his arms as they climbed the stairs.

"Here is my prey... Where do I put him, Hime?" Ichigo chuckled in a fake deep voice, which pulled a squeal from his son, who extended his hands to his mom, hoping to get away from his horrible father.

"Oh, well how about you give this cute boy a bath before dressing him up? We'll be late..."

"We are supposed to meet the rest in an hour, Hime, don't worry."

Ichigo walked to his nervous wife and gave her a very gentle peck on the cheek, hoping to calm her down. Kazui turned his head to the side, suddenly interested in what was on the walls while Orihime blushed a little.

"... You're right. I'm just a bit nervous... I don't know why."

Ichigo gave Kazui a little kiss on the temple before placing him back on the floor, and rubbed his back.

"Kazui, can you go get ready for the bath? I'll be here in a second."

The boy, being the sweetheart he was, nodded simply and pitty patted to the washroom, leaving his parents in their room. Ichigo looked back to his wife and raised his hand to caress her cheek.

"Orihime? Are you okay?"

The young woman breathed out, going to hug Ichigo and burying her face in his neck. She melted in his touch when she felt Ichigo's arms wrap around her, drawing nonsense on the fabric of her kimono.

"I am, it's just... I'm reminded of... I don't know, everything. My parents, my brother... For the first ones, I still wish I had some knowledge of them. And Ni-Chan... He would have been happy to be with us."

Ichigo could only agree with her, only knowing one part of the way she felt. He wished his mother was here today too, to be with her husband and her children and now Kazui too. But it was impossible.

"They're not here physically. But the people we love are with us in spirit." Ichigo said simply, his strong arms tightening a little around Orihime, his face meeting with the top of her hair.

Orihime didn't answer, only hugging him more, letting her emotions calm down, the thrumming of her heart go back to normal. Those types of thoughts didn't come often, not because she was too happy to get them, simply because there was no reason to feel bad about the past. But tonight... Tonight felt different.

After a few minutes, Orihime gave Ichigo more of her sweet and enlightening smile, brushing a hand on his cheek to thank him before getting downstairs. Ichigo went back to his son, who was looking at his reflection and waiting patiently.

"Ah, sorry Kazui. Took more than one second. But now mommy is better and you can get washed!"

Ichigo started the bath and quickly but very carefully washed the boy, who giggled and tried to splash his dad with water multiple times, but was stopped with the promise of more treats if he was nice tonight. Wetting a kimono with soap-filled water? Big no no.

The boys got ready pretty fast, father making sure that son was comfortable in his kimono and waraji, not daring to try to tame his unruly hair. He really was like Ichigo in that department. The only way to make sure it wasn't all over the place was to cut them, even if another reason was more, hem, personal.

Totally not related to how Orihime all but loved to scratch the back of his head and it was easier done when the hair is short.

They got down the stairs, Kazui holding onto Ichigo's hand tightly to not fall, still not used to the straw shoes in his little feet. Orihime checked her reflection one last time before squatting to her son, giving him a big smooth on the forehead, praising Ichigo for dressing him so well.

Did the two blush profusely? Yes. One because he was a little boy and proud to make his mommy proud, and the other one because damn if his wife wasn't the most jaw dropping beautiful woman in existence.

A few knocks on the door wanted them of the arrival of the louder part of the family, as Ichigo jokingly called them. Isshin didn't really wait until anyone opened the door to burst it open, his laughter and happy face infectious.

"Ah! Where is my grandson! Oh, you look so good.. so cute my boy!" He sniffed, tears already streaming down his face as he kneeled down to hug Kazui. Yuzu almost did the same, but had some self restraint (thank goodness) and instead laughed with Orihime. Karin kept the door opened and saluted everyone calmly, without a word, but the smile on her face too obvious for her to pretend to be unhappy about the commotion.

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

All of them, after a lot of tears, walked to the closest festival stalls, the night setting in and the lampions lighting up the streets, giving it a fairy tale like atmosphere. Kazui walked neatly next to his father, holding to his arm closely, but his eyes darted everywhere in wonder. This green light, that blue stall... Some people wore masks and some kids were chasing each other with tiny fireworks in their hands.

"Let's get some food! Yuzu insisted on not making any at home as to not waste the one here..."

The young girl nodded her head enthusiastically while her twin sister trotted to a Ikayaki stall, asking for one before watching the drama play out.

"Well yes, because otherwise you would have eat like normal but all your appetite would have been gone with us and you would have complained about your stomach!"

Yuzu lectured her father, and Orihime stood next to her to tap her shoulder and calm her down, otherwise it would turn into a quite loud conversation. Karin came back next to her twin and gave her a candy apple, placing it in her hand.

"Don't mind him. Let's enjoy the festival. Let him eat if he wants."

The sisters walked ahead, not really caring about their dad's wailing, Ichigo pushing Kazui between Orihime and him.

"Tsk, he always has to be dramatic about everything..."

"But it's funny papa! When grandpa cries he always makes funny faces! And then I hug him and poof! Gone!"

Orihime gave her son a very sweet kiss on the forehead, because who wouldn't melt at the boy's sweet heart and words.

"Hm, oh, Hime. Look there."

Ichigo pointed at a stall with a shooting contest, which confused the woman at first, before she clapped her hands excitedly.

"Oh, we've haven't done one in so long!" She giggled, jogging to the inviting booth with Kazui on her side. Ichigo smiled brightly, shaking his head. Who was the child?

"You go win her a prize, I'll look after Kazui." Isshin told him, surprisingly calm after one minute of crying. He raised an eyebrow at his dad who clapped his hands together before raising Kazui in the air.

"Kazui, you'll see if your papa is good with shooting targets. If he's not, then you'll be staying with me for a while week!"

So, that meant going to bed very late, eating candy, not doing any kind of work and losing a few braincells because of Isshin cooing at him and talking to him like a baby.

No way was he going to lose. Especially when Orihime was watching intently, her hands holding each other on her chest.

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

Of course Ichigo won.

And got the biggest prize he could obtain, a grey teddy bear, proudly holding it for his wife. Orihime was filled with happiness, feeding him a chocolate banana from time to time.

The evening passed like that : between chatters, contests, street food and laughter, not a single Kurosaki wasn't smiling. The sisters stood close to Orihime, always hoping to spend more time with her, always hoping to find this reminder of Masaki in her. Ichigo walked by her side, listening to their chatters and keeping an eye on Kazui, who was getting sleepy.

"Papa?"

"Hm?"

"Who is that?"

Ichigo turned his face to look on his right, where Kazui had pointed at, but seeing no one. There was barely any civilian at the stalls around them, so it was safe to say Kazui definitely needed some well earned sleep. Ichigo crouched down to pick him up in his arms, patting his head gently.

"You're tired baby, were going home soon. You can sleep some if you want."

"But the lady..."

"Hm?"

Kazui couldn't say more, already closing his little arms and snoring softly. The day had been long, of course he was exhausted. Ichigo made sure he held him tight, the teddy in his other hand being a bit of a pain now. Orihime stopped to check on the little boy, her heart feeling like it turned goowee at the adorable sight.

"We should head back... Kazui needs to take some well deserved rest." Ichigo announced to his family, the two girls nodding in unison and Isshin hugging Orihime quickly before patting Ichigo on the shoulder.

"We had a great time, thank you, to the three of you." Orihime bowed and got her goodbyes back at her, Yuzu making one last joke with her before everyone returned to their homes.

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

Once Kazui was changed and put to bed, Ichigo cracked his back bones and brushed his teeth sleepily, now in his sleeping t-shirt and shorts. Weird how before he could have his bed time at 3 in the morning without any problem, and now 11:30 was the maximum.

He heard Orihime sigh next door, in their room, and popped his head out of the bathroom door.

"Hm?"

She laughed at his cute appearance and his puppy look, the head tilted to the side. She waved her hand as if to say "later, later" and went back to changing. Ichigo frowned, the infamous gesture that he had forgotten along the years bringing back the usual anxiety he felt in his younger days.

He spit in the sink and washed up his hands before entering their room and pushing the door closed.

"Hime, what's wrong? Please tell me..." He asked, sitting on the bed to watch her take her hair down, unleashing it from the tight grip of her sofisticated bun. She sighed again, and Ichigo frowned again, before going to hug him, the force of it pushing Ichigo to lay on the bed with his wife in his arms.

"Hime..."

"Nothing is wrong, I promise." She cut him off, rolling to her side if the bed and staring at his eyes. She was not lying, she was alright but then why did she sigh? Why did she look so exhausted when they return back home?

Ichigo still nodded, reassured to a point, before leaning down to kiss her in the lips. She gladly accept the peck, placing her hands on his face in such a sweet and careful hold, Ichigo definitely wanted to kiss her more. But she pulled away again, still looking at him with this strange look, one that made her eyes glitter in excitement. Orihime took one of his hands, so strong, so callous from all those fights, to place it on her belly, warm tears filling her eyes.

"I'm pregnant."

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

Oh I'm so bad for leaving this like that 😂 but then again, if you guys want the rest, you can always ask for it hehe

As I am not Japanese, I had to research for festivals and clothes and food, hopefully what I wrote made sense ;;

#bleach #ichihime #pro ichihime #ichihime headcanon #ichihime writing #ichihime fanfiction #papa ichigo #mama orihime #ichigo kurosaki #orihime kurosaki #kazui kurosaki #isshin kurosaki #karin kurosaki #yuzu kurosaki #do go check the artist's work it is very beautiful!

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iustories · 4 years

Text

The Visitor

IU x Kim Soohyun

Jieun’s POV

Of all the places, I met you here. It's out of the ordinary I'd say, but I knew one day we'll see each other here. Little by little, everything faded before my eyes and I only saw you. You met my gaze with the same warmth and I clearly remembered the last time you looked at me similarly. When was that again? How long has it been since? I could tell you I lost count, but that would be a lie and I'm certain you'd immediately catch it before I even finish my sentence because you know everything about me, except for the part that I loved you I guess.

Loved? Should I be speaking in past tense? Do I still have the same fire burning in my chest? Sometimes I'm confused.

I approached you with caution as I always do, afraid to look eager, but I may give myself away when I smile a tad wider than usual. It can't be helped since you bring it out of me effortlessly and I'm a fool for giving in every damn time. But what is to be terrified about? This strange place will forget me, you, us, and whatever will happen, right? So I'll take my chances.

You rose to your feet with such grace and met me in the middle then pulled me into a tight hug. Ah, it feels like home. It feels like you. Seconds passed and I am still in your arms. I didn't detect any intention of you wanting to let go and it was my cue to allow myself to enjoy this freely. Was I always guilty when you're too close before? Now please don't break free. I promise I won't push you away this time. I'll make you stay.

There were no words spoken, just hearts beating in the same rhythm, speaking things that could not be explained if said.

"I missed you," you whispered, your soft breath tickling my ear.

If it weren't for this place, I would be hesitant to say it back, but since we're here let me just be honest. I'm sorry I had to mask my affection with dry humor. It was the only way I could tell you without actually telling you. "I missed you too. How have you been?"

Of course I'm aware that you're doing fine. You've been busy exploring new activities and having fun with your family. I check up on you from time to time. Despite what happened between us, I still genuinely care for you. "I'm good. And you?"

I was still engulfed in your embrace and if we talk for hours in this position, I wouldn't complain. "I'm okay too. I've been doing things here and there. Nothing really special, but yeah I'm okay."

I still can't conjure coherent sentences without feeling anxious. I mean, being around you still makes me nervous even in this place where nobody knows us.

You finally separated yourself from me, your hands traveling from my back towards my arms. You gripped them firmly then smiled at me, evidently delighted by my sudden appearance, like you've been waiting for me to come.

"Let's sit?" You casually asked and I nodded in response. You dragged me to the couch and motioned your hand, telling me to sit.

"What do you want to watch?" You asked, your eyes directing me to the screen. I turned to your laptop and scanned the selection. Seeing the titles brought a small smile on my lips because it just proves that it's you. Those movies and shows are your favorite. Now I'm sure this is all real.

I pointed at medical drama that you were raving about years ago. When you told me about it for the first time, I gave you a funny look because I didn't perceive you as a sentimental person.

"Good choice," you approved, your lips curving into a satisfied smile as you clicked on the show.

Do we have all the time in the world to watch shows? Can we settle some things first? I don't know how much time we have, so for the sake of my sanity, can we talk? But like in the past, my requests refused to leave my lips because your pleasure is much important than mine. I couldn't help it you know—putting you first. It's ridiculous, yes. But this is how I loved you.

Loved. There it is again. That word. It weighs heavily on me, waking the feelings I've come to abandon over the years as my hope dwindled. Can that word not ring in my head when I look at you? It's really bothersome and I can't focus on the present.

There was a considerable amount of space between us which actually disappointed me since we were always skin to skin. Have we fallen apart completely? Have we created boundaries? A while ago I thought we were back on track.

You must have heard my thoughts because you gradually moved closer until your arm was lightly touching mine and at the initial contact, I almost flinched and had to hold the gasp that was about to escape my lips. It amazes me how you still affect me with such intensity after all these years. I felt you arm hover over my neck and it found its way around my shoulder, causing me to freeze. You quietly tugged me towards you, urging me to relax and be comfortable, so I did. The loud beating of my heart deliberately subsided when you began patting my arm repeatedly. I eased my mind and I ran back to the things I used to do when I'm with you—placing my head on your chest and my arm around your belly.

And here I am again wishing this moment would never end, but I already tried it a couple of times in the past yet we were still separated by fate in the end.

"Jieun-ah," You called my name tenderly.

"Hmm?"

"Do you want to tell me anything?" You asked with a mellow tone, coaxing me.

"Like what?"

"Just anything. Maybe things I don't know?" There uncertainty in your voice, but I heard conviction as well.

Now I wonder if you've known all along. It's not impossible though since people talk and rumors spread quite fast.

Should I be honest or should I lie? Isn't this what I've been imagining—you asking me if I had something to say?

"I won't be mad. Whatever it is just tell me," you reassured me.

I let silence prevail, thinking hard if I should just say the truth. This is the redo that I prayed for, so letting this pass would be another dumb mistake.

"Do you know that I love you?"

Should I have said 'loved'? Which one is appropriate? And why am I answering you with a question? God damn it.

It was your turn to fall silent and tension immediately rose as you let seconds pass. "I know. I've always known."

My heart leaped as a mix of anxiety, fear, and excitement played inside my system. "Really?"

"I could see from the way you looked at me," You explained simply then paused.

"And I looked at you the same, but you never saw it, right?"

I processed your words carefully, afraid I might have gotten the wrong idea, but you interrupted my train of thoughts when you added, "We wouldn't be talking about this if you noticed. I loved you too."

"But things went downhill, didn't it?" I asked, trying to comfort myself from the missed opportunity by blaming it on fate and circumstances.

"It did," you affirmed. "But we could have tried."

"Would you have chosen me?"

You sighed then tightened your hold on me. "Yeah. I would have. Without a doubt."

"So we both ended up being alone after all that," I said chuckling, attempting to dismiss the ache growing inside my chest as regrets threaten to break loose at the gates of my mind.

"I talked a lot about you—no, all I talked about was you." I felt you shake your head, your chin brushing against the top of my head a few times. "I couldn't tell you too so I told other people."

"What were we so afraid of?" I asked, hoping that you had an answer. If we loved each other then, what was stopping us?

"Hurting others? We thought of them first before us."

Right. I almost forgot. Other people. We weren't selfish enough to take it to another level because of others or rather this person we both held close to our hearts. Our friend.

"Did we do the right thing?" I'm desperately seeking reprieve because I am being chased by the consequences of that decision.

"Yeah, I think we did," you answered as you peeked at my face and I wasn't quick enough to hide the sadness that was etched on it. "I'm sorry, Jieun-ah. I know I gave you a hard time. I know you've been waiting."

I bit my lip to control its trembling. The show continues to play on the screen, but it only served as the noise that filled the void when we fail to answer quickly.

"But doing the right thing doesn't always make us happy," you continued. "So are you happy now?"

I parted my lips yet nothing came out. Am I really happy without you? Am I truly resigned to the future I have in mind?

"Am I?" I stroked my chin as if I was really thinking of it, but in all honesty, I couldn't get myself to do it because I'm scared to know the answer.

You chuckled then ran your fingers down the length of my hair and I instinctively shut my eyes as the calming sensation of your touch registered. "I may be doing great, but I couldn't say I'm entirely happy."

Your answer surprised me. Even though you've confessed your feelings just a while ago, I couldn't wrap my head around it yet. How can I? I imagined hearing those words from you for quite a long time until I gave up, therefore everything may be happening inside my head.

"Me too." I was suddenly feeling hopeful since we are in another place. We were just two people who met unexpectedly so maybe this time I can fulfill my wishes. "So can we start again? If we aren't happy after what we've done, can we do what we want this time?"

You sighed again. What is it with the heavy sighs and the tone you've been using? Isn't this supposed to be a do-over, the clean slate that we both wanted? There isn't anyone who could hold us back anymore.

"I'm afraid we can't," you replied in a regretful tone.

You are so good at putting the pieces of my heart back together and breaking it right after. Hasn't this happened countless times already? Aren't you tired of hurting me?

"Why? What is our excuse this time?" I asked, my jaw clenching.

"We just can't."

"At least give me something I can understand. This is too much."

You kissed the top of my head. "This is not real, Jieun-ah"

"It is! What are you saying?"

"You know from the start this isn't real," you pressed further.

I gulped hard, my breathing becoming shallow and rapid. "Do we have to do this again?"

How many times do I have to lose you? How many times do you have to come back and remind me that you are not mine? You've been consistent at that and that's why I couldn't let you go that easily.

"Yes. We must go our separate ways again. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. But I'm glad I saw you here."

Just as tears trickled down my face, my eyes fluttered open. My heart was pounding erratically against my chest as your voice echoed repeatedly in my brain. I'm glad I met you here. I felt the wetness of my pillow and realized that I shed some tears while I was asleep.

You, my frequent visitor, the person of my dreams, came to make your presence felt again. Indeed, you know when to remind me of you when I start to forget.

#stories

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80s-roger · 5 years

Text

EX - Roger Taylor {pt 5}

well shit is going to happen really soon!

warning: this chapter contains hard-core smut

chapter six will be out soon

click here for part 4!

MASTERLIST

words +3k

on with the story!

You could barely work today. Your argument with Roger made you feel even sadder than you already were. Your boss came inside your office, looking mad.

"Y/N, I know you are with that famous drummer, but don't appear on the headlines please. I am afraid it will cause drama between the other assistants." Many of your co-workers, were jealous of you because you are dating the hot guy from Queen.

"I'm sorry boss, I can't control it. They follow us everywhere." you explained.

"Stay hidden if that's possible. I don't want your co-workers seeing you front page all the time. I don't even know if you're a worker here or a celebrity." He shook his head annoyed.

"I am a worker, my relationship has nothing to do with my work. I work and so does my partner." you stood for yourself.

"Then, keep a low profile at the world outside. I don't want my employees to be front page at the gossip newspaper. The next time this happens, you're fired." He warned you and the next thing you could think of, was being literally fired. Your time was coming. It was a matter of time being on headlines again. He left your office and you started packing your stuff to leave.

As you were walking at the elevator, one of your co-workers stopped you. There's Maya, that girl you talk with when you see each other.

"Hello Y/N! You look upset." She looked at you confused.

"I have had a terrible day." You slightly closed your eyes thinking of what has happened the last 48 hours.

"Oh, wanna have a drink? It's my treat." She offered.

"Sure, I'd like one." You smiled and you both entered the lift.

[...]

You tried to be really careful with your words. You trusted nobody. Anything you'd say, could be used against you.

"So how's Roger and you?" She asked and poured from her scotch.

"We have been better." You drank of your vodka, staring in the gap.

"You wanna talk about it?" She asked, approaching closer.

"We've had an argument at the morning. I was already stressed and he made it even worse than it was before." You looked at her with a sad vibe taking over your face.

"And what was it for?" She was weird.

"That's a couple's problem, I think we'll get over it." You nodded your head.

"Oh I see. You know, me and my girlfriend had a fight too. She acts strange. And I gave her some space." You forgot she was a lesbian. "Wanna get you another round?" She asked. Was she trying to get you drunk? You knew you had to refuse. You were also scared if the press would see you doing explicit stuff with her. You once had a one night stand with a girl. And you liked it a lot.

"No, thank you. I'll better get going. Roger and I have to discuss..." You lied. You didn't want him to appear on your doorstep.

"I understand. Well, at least, let me give you a ride home." She suggested and you agreed with her.

She finally arrived you at home. The silence in the car was entirely awkward.

"It was nice catching up with you."She smiled at you. "Hope you will fix the things with Roger." She reassured you, touching your thigh. You felt really uncomfortable with it but she didn't take off her hand.

"Yeah I hope so, goodnight." You rushed to get out of the car, afraid if anyone was spying on you and taking shots of you and Maya. You were scared she'd kiss you.

You finally made your way up to your home sweet home. You locked yourself in the apartment, exhaling all your countless problems. It was ten o' clock; the need to take a shower jumped inside of you. You really wanted to sleep and never wake up until the nightmare is over.

The warm shower you took, reminded you of some spicy moments Roger and you had in there. It was so hot in there but right now, things are so messed up. He did hurt your feelings, he made things worse. After wearing your nighty, you wanted to cover yourself between the mattress and sleep forever but the door wouldn't let you two hours after a good sleep. It was some minutes after midnight and you were terrified who'd it be.

You unlocked and opened the door, facing a drunk Roger, standing at the wall. You didn't want him at your home tonight, but your inner world welcomed him with flying colours.

"What the hell are you doing? Leave now." You angrily said to him.

"I'm not leaving." He possessed you just by looking at you.

"Roger, you're drunk again. Go away." You tried to push him away but he resisted. He was too strong to get inside.

"I know you can't say it more than twice. You want me and I want you." He grabbed you by your neck, kissing you passionately. You wanted to taste his lips again. But your inner anger wouldn't let him. You pushed him away.

"Fucking leave! You're drunk!" You yelled at him but he literally picked you up on his shoulders, leading you to the bedroom. "Roger stop it!" You screamed at him. But you wanted him to bang you. You were dying for his touch.

"I know you want this, don't make it hard." His cocky character made you wet in seconds.

"I don't want it when you're drunk and saying crap to me! I had a terrible day and that's all your fucking fault!" You pointed at him while he was getting undressed. He gave no shit.

"It's time to fix it then. Get undressed. You don't want me to have it done for you, do you? I have ripped off so many of those." He laid on top of you, kissing you with passion. You forgot all your problems in seconds. His perfume felt like a drug inside you.

You were desperate to be touched by him. He removed your nighty, leaving you on your black underpants. With his big palm, he massaged your breasts, leaving you moaning his name softly. He placed his head in your neck, leaving you hickeys and kisses.

"I need to know how much you want it." He said while you were enjoying his passionate kisses. You didn't speak as the arrogant bitch you can be from time to time when you're mad at Roger. He knew you were mad at him. That's why he wanted to tease you. He removed your underpanties, leaving you all naked in front of him.

His fingers were touching your private area. "You're so wet for me, but you're not telling me how much you want it. I'm not going to beg for it." He rubbed your clit, which sent you pleasure waves all over your body. But he slightly stopped, looking at you. You looked at him. He made that cocky smile of his waiting for your answer. "Why are you such a bad girl?" He asked you and tickled your body. "I'm afraid I have to be strict with you. I didn't want to. You made me." He smiled, leaning to the cabinet, grabbing some ribbons of yours and wrapping them around your wrists, against your bed. You had your hands tied behind the bed and you said no words. You loved that kind of sex you and Roger have from time to time.

"You won't move. And I won't be gentle. I'm warning you baby." He grabbed his condom, wearing it around him. He split your legs, having your area visible to him. His hands hugged your thighs when he got inside you, moving fastly, just like how you wanted it. You loved the dominant Roger. His hands were moving on your entire body, you both locked your eyes, staring each other. Yet, you said no word, which made Roger gain another orgasm. He was moving harder than before. All you did was just moaning. Not saying a single word, despite how much you wanted to. He always wants to hear how good he makes you feel, but not tonight.

"I want to hear it Y/N..." He moaned while he was about ready to cum. You wanted him to come first, but it was impossible. You already had your second orgasm and you were close.

"You don't worth my begging." You eagerly said.

"I don't?" He raised his eyebrow and removed himself from your vagina. You whimpered without wanting it. It came out naturally. You were so close on cumming, you didn't want him to know that too. His gaze turned again on you. "Oops, what happened to you babygirl? You want more? You're not convincing me..." He teased you. But you moved your hips provocatively at him, asking for more.

"But I want to cum too, it's not only your cock and your cocky self." You mocked him.

"You cum even when I'm looking at you. You just want extra credit." He untied you, but you thought you wouldn't be tied anymore. "No, no babygirl. You wished." You looked at him confused. "Turn over." He ordered and you did what he said. You loved being under him. "I will let you cum only when you say the words." He said while he was wrapping the ribbons from your wrists against your bed.

His hard dick, got placed inside you, filling you up entirely. You couldn't stop moaning and grabbing the bed's banisters. But you didn't say the words he wanted to hear. You got that nerve, reminding you what a jerk he was to you at the morning. "Fucking say it." He said and slapped your butt cheeks, leaving you red marks.

"No!" You said with your heavy breathing. His slaps, got tougher and you moaned loudly as a sign of pleasure.

His thrusts got deeper, faster and harder. You loved rough sex with Roger. He laid on top of you, pulling your hair and grabbing your neck without choking you of course whispering at your ear.

"I want to hear the words Y/N. Say them and you'll cum. Say them loudly, I want your neighbours to know." He aggressively said and bit you.

He was so close on cumming, but his ego wasn't pleased yet. He was rubbing your clit fastly and forcibly and now you were forced to shout as your legs were shaking.

"Oh my God Roger! Fucking hell! I cummed!" You desperately yelled after keeping these words to yourself for a long now. After hearing you, his voice was even deeper than it was before, his hands' veins could easily be seen next to your hands while he cummed inside of you. He finally untied you.

You turned over again, facing him. He was red after reaching his climax. So were you. He left your room, going inside your bath, washing himself and you were waiting for him naked at the bed. He laid next to you.

"You just had to say these words. Don't make it hard for both of us. You know I can make you finish no matter what." He said laughing. "And I wasn't drunk. Just two shots." He added.

"Fuck you Roger!" You angrily said turning around.

"Can I smoke here?" He asked looking at you when you were trying to sleep.

"No! Go outside, I want to sleep." You looked at him.

"You didn't look like you wanted to sleep ten minutes ago." He teased you again.

"Yeah because you were too busy fucking me."You said back and he laughed. "Good night now, I had a bad day." You turned your back at him again.

"But it eventually turned out good." He went outside the balcony, smoking one of cigarettes. You were staring at his silhouette before your eyes closed entirely again.

You solved your argument with him but you were still mad. Not as much as you were before though. You knew you loved him. You couldn't stay mad at him forever.

The next morning

You opened your eyes, staring at the balcony. It was sunny outside; the sunlight entered your slightly dark room, passing through the white curtains. You moved yourself and heard a soft groan coming next to you. There was a naked Roger hugging one of your pillows while he was still sleeping. You couldn't move because his arms were wrapped around you, not making you able to move. He's a heavy big spoon. It was 9 am. He should have left already. You had to wake him up.

"Roger you have to wake up..." You moved him a bit.

"Mhmm..." He groaned again not moving a muscle. "Just five more minutes." he said with his grumpy voice.

"But you're going to be late. And I have to get ready for my work too." You tried to push him off but he wouldn't let go.

"Fuck everyone. I want to stay here today." He kissed you at your cheek.

"But we're still not over everything. There are so many problems we haven't solved yet." You let go of his arms and he finally opened his ocean eyes.

"Everything's under control Y/N... There's nothing to worry about." You could tell he was lying. There was something wrong.

"You're lying Roger I know it." You got out of your bed, starting to dress up for your work. "What's happening? I know you know something." You said.

"We just woke up. Can't we just drink some coffee and talk about it?" He did the same as you.

"No Roger, we can't. The sooner the better. Do you know what my boss told me yesterday?" You loudly said.

"No, what did he say?" He asked clueless.

"He warned me that if he and my co-workers see me again on headlines and generally on spotlight, I'm fired!" You finally shouted letting out your anger.

"But you're gonna get fired. It's inevitable not to be taken photos..." He considered it. He looked serious. He thought of the tape and you knew.

"My life is getting ruined by everyone right now! I'm losing my job, my dignity, my privacy, you..." the thought of losing him, makes you sick. You don't want to lose him. You started crying. "I can't do this anymore." You laid down on the floor, covering your head with your legs and Roger ran next to you, hugging you without saying a word. What would he say? He knows you're messed up now.

"Things will be better, I swear." He said, comforting you. "Just tell me one thing, Y/N." he looked at you with eyes wide opened.

"What is it?" You asked.

"What would you do if the tape was leaked?" He said and you felt really weird with it. Like, he knew it would be leaked so he wanted you to be prepared.

"Do you know something? Why are you asking me that?" You panicked.

"I'm just asking you. We have to be prepared in any second." He explained but you couldn't stay calm.

"Just tell me the goddamn truth Roger!!" You screamed and stood up from the floor.

"Derek quitted himself from his manager tasks. We had a fight about... you know. The tape." He stood up too, moving his hands nervously.

"Oh my God Roger, I'm sold. I'm fucking done. He will have already sold the video!" You started moving like a maniac inside the room. "What did he say?" You asked.

"I'm afraid he's doing what we're afraid of. We should... you know... Cover it." He tried to explain but it didn't make sense.

"He's going to make me get fired. Are you bullshitting me right now?" Your jaw was shaking. You haven't been at your good for two days now.

"Fuck your work. I can take care of you Y/N. I would marry you if that's what you want!" He yelled.

"I don't want you to marry me because you want to undercover the mess right now! We're both under pressure!" You yelled back. Neighbours heard load moans eight hours ago and now they hear the same couple fighting.

"It's not my fault, you know! It was you and him back then!" he shouted

"But now it's you, who has the fame and that can ruin my life right now!" you walked through the living room and he followed you.

"And I'm trying to help but you think you're helpless in this drama." He looked at you, still shouting but distance so minimized.

"I do feel helpless. But also defenceless. And I don't want that Roger. I don't want to feel powerless. Not when I know my past would be out in less than a day." You let out a breath, standing at the kitchen's counter. The tense was almost over.

"Listen... There's this press conference we have in a couple of days. If Derek attempts publishing it after the conference, he won't try to say shit about you cheating on me and stuff." He explained.

''And how's that going to happen?" You asked confused.

"I can prepare the paps about it. They know me as the hot drummer, who takes some risks. You know..." He kissed you, trying to take the tense entirely away.

"So you're telling me that you'll just go out there and say hey me and my girl made a hot tape which we're really excited about?" You mocked him and he was dead serious.

"Exactly." He came closer to you, at the point you could feel his boner between your legs. He was rubbing, against you trying to turn you on but the press wouldn't let you free.

"Babe, you're a musician, not a porn star. Besides, it will affect your career if you just say you're on a tape in which you're actually not." you tried to push him off but he didn't let go. Instead, his hands, entrapped you.

"Trust me, the fans love when they get to see their favourite celebrity naked. And the fun part of this, is that I'm not in there. It's just your ex's dick." He kissed you again.

"Yeah and me, entirely naked. Does that make you feel comfortable?" You asked him.

"No, it doesn't. Because I'm the one who can see you with no clothes. It actually makes me mad thinking you've been with many guys in the past." He made a weird face expression but you didn't seem bothered by it.

"I'm not a whore Roger. I was just looking for some guy to be with but it only turned out as a guy to have sex with. But look at you too. You've slept with many girls before too. It doesn't even make me mad." You said back annoying him.

"Yeah cause you are finally the only woman in the entire world who gets a dose of Roger Taylor inside her." He teased you and connected his lips with yours.

"You and your bloody ego..." you shook your head. "But why are you taking this risk? Taking the blame?" You asked.

"Because I fucking love you and I can't stand seeing you concerned and upset all the time." He hugged you. You felt so beautiful right then.

"I love you too..." You closed your eyes, smelling his majestic scent.

The fact Roger was about to take the blame on a sex tape he wasn't even starring, made you love him even more than before. It made you feel a lot better. There was a fuss coming soon about you and he was right there to pick you up and walk with you.

taglist: @rogxtaylor @bohemiansweede

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