#not looking forward to more idiots like that

[snowysosturn]

Fire & Desire - Matt Sturniolo Part 21

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

Pairing: Y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Y/n has always clashed with Matt. Despite working for Chris’s clothing brand and being close with Nick, her relationship with Matt has always been tense at best. While being forced to be around each other more, their animosity turns into something deeper. Can they overcome their differences, or will their fiery emotions tear them apart?

Warnings: Angst, tension, arguments, hurt.

Nick and I stand there, frozen.

My stomach drops to my ass.

Christina is in Matt’s bed.

Fast asleep, wrapped up in his sheets like she belongs there. It reminds me of when I stayed in his bed in the house.

How could he allow her to do the same.

I feel Nick tense beside me, he's silent but I can almost hear the cogs turning in his mind, like he’s piecing together the same horrifying realization I am.

Then the ensuite door swings open.

And out walks Matt.

Messy hair. Shirtless. Sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Looks like she helped him out last night instead.

The second he looks up, our eyes meet.

And everything inside me stops.

Nick moves first, he could never be silent for that long. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Matt’s mouth parts slightly, but Nick doesn’t give him the chance.

“Seriously?” he seethes, stepping forward. His voice is a dangerous mix of betrayal and anger. “You fucking lied to me. To her.” His arm motions toward me, but I can’t move. I can’t even breathe.

Matt tries to speak.

But Nick gives him no mercy.

“I don’t wanna hear it!” he snaps, his voice rising. “I don’t wanna hear a single fucking word come out of your mouth right now.”

Matt’s face hardens, but he stays silent.

Nick scoffs. “You had one thing to prove, Matt. That you meant it this time.” He shakes his head. “And you couldn’t even do that.”

I can’t stand here anymore.

I need to be in my room. So I turn and leave the room.

Not fast. Not slow. I honestly feel like I'm floating.

I can hear Nick’s voice from down the hall, and he's not letting up easy.

“You either care about her or you don’t, Matt.” His words cut through the thick, suffocating silence.

“So which is it?”

I don’t hear Matt’s answer.

Because I don’t think I could handle it.

Nick’s POV

Y/n turns and walks away, and I don’t blame her.

I watch her go, watch the way her arms wrap around herself like she’s holding herself together, like she has to hold herself together because Matt sure as fuck won’t.

But I’m not done.

Not even close.

I turn back to Matt, still standing there like a fucking idiot, like he’s the one blindsided.

“You’ve gotta be fucking joking.” I breathe, the disbelief thick in my voice.

Matt doesn’t even try to defend himself.

Maybe he knows there’s no excuse.

Maybe he just doesn’t have one.

Matt motions me out of the bedroom before closing the door behind him, the two of us stood in the hallway.

“What, I might wake your precious Christina?” I sneer, pointing at the door. “Wouldn’t wanna interrupt her beauty sleep, huh?”

Matt exhales sharply. “It’s not like that.”

I laugh. “Oh, really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks exactly like that.”

He shakes his head, but I don’t soften.

“I’m so disgusted with you.” I shutter. “I thought you would be real this time. That if you were serious about Y/n, you’d to fucking act like it.”

Matt clenches his jaw. “Nick-”

“And what do you do?” I cut him off. “You self sabotage. Again. Like you always fucking do. Because you never know how to handle something real.”

Matt’s eyes darken.

I don’t care.

I take another step forward. “And Y/n?” I point a finger toward the door she just walked toward. “She’s the realest thing you’re ever gonna get. And you know that.”

He drops his gaze for a second, but it’s long enough for me to see it.

Guilt.

Good.

“You know it” I repeat, voice quieter but my tone stays the same. “And you just threw it away.”

Matt opens his mouth, but before he can get a word out, a door behind me swings open.

“Jesus Christ” Chris groans, stepping into the hall. He looks half asleep, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “Can you two shut the fuck up? Rachel’s asleep in my room.”

I whip around. “Oh, of course she is!” I snap. “So what, you’ve got a girl in your bed too?”

Chris blinks at me, like he wasn’t expecting that reaction. “What?”

I throw my hands up.  “Seriously, who the fuck thought it’d be a good idea to bring girls out here?” 

I don’t care who hears me.

I don’t care if I wake up the entire goddamn villa.

Chris shrugs, unfazed. “I did?” looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“The fuck are you freaking out about?” he scoffs. “I like Rachel, so I flew her out. I can do that, you know.”

I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Oh yeah? And you think that was a good fucking idea?”

Chris crosses his arms. “Why the fuck wouldn’t it be?”

“Because look at what you just caused!” I snap, throwing a hand back toward Matt’s door. “You might not have been the fire, but you sure as fuck were the fuel.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”

“No, I’m being real.” I hiss, stepping closer. “I want them out. Within the next two hours. I don’t give a fuck what needs to be done. I want them gone.”

Chris’ expression hardens. “That’s unfair.”

I shake my head. “Unfair?” I scoff. “You wanna talk about unfair? Y/n spent this whole trip thinking her and Matt were finally on the same fucking page, and now she walks in to find Christina, of all fucking people, in his bed? And you wanna stand there and act like I’m being unfair?

Chris opens his mouth, as Matt stands awkwardly next to me.

Chris locks eyes with him.

“Wait, what?” Chris’s brow furrows. “She’s in your bed?”

Matt still doesn’t say a word.

Chris shakes his head, exhaling sharply. “Jesus Christ, man.”

I shake my head in complete disgust, looking between the two of them.

“The two of you are fucking idiots” I say, my voice filled with nothing but disappointment. “Absolute fucking idiots.”

Chris exhales sharply, rubbing a hand down his face, while Matt just stands there, still not saying a goddamn word.

I don’t have the patience for this. Not right now.

Without another word, I turn on my heel and storm down the hallway, heading straight for Y/n’s room on the other side of the villa. My blood is boiling, not just at Matt but at Chris too. They both fucked up, and they both know it.

As I walk away, I hear Chris let out a frustrated sigh before opening his door and stepping into his room.

Matt?

I don’t hear him move at all.

I get to Y/n’s room and try the handle, but the door doesn’t budge. It’s locked.

I sigh, knocking gently. “Y/n, it’s just me.”

A few seconds pass, and then I hear the soft click of the lock. The door opens, and there she is, completely wrecked, her eyes red and swollen, tears streaming down her face. My chest tightens at the sight of her.

“Ah no Y/n.” I mutter, stepping in without hesitation.

Before she can say a word, I pull her into me, wrapping my arms around her tightly. The second she buries her face into my chest, she breaks, her sobs shaking her whole body. I squeeze her tighter, resting my chin on the top of her head.

“He’s an idiot” I tell her. “A fucking idiot.”

She doesn’t respond, just keeps crying, and I hold her through it.

After a minute, I guide her over to the bed, and we settle in. She wipes at her face, sniffling, and I wait, letting her take her time.

Finally, I ask, “What happened last night?”

Y/n takes a deep breath, wiping at her damp cheeks before finally looking up at me. Her voice is quiet, shaky.

“It was fine at first” she starts. “Obviously I was so happy for you, then you’s got up and left after Chris did.” She trails off, taking another breath.

“Then Chris came back with them.”

I already know exactly who she means.

“Christina and Rachel” I say, and she nods, pressing her lips together like even saying the name makes her sick.

“Chris kinda insinuated to Matt about them two catching up.. Nate and I felt awkward, so we went and did two shots and when we came back Matt and Chris were gone, it was just Rachel and Christina in the booth.” She says, staring blankly across the room.

“I mean, I knew things had happened between them before, but Matt told me.. he told me he hadn’t been with anyone since..” She pauses, blinking rapidly, like she’s trying to stop fresh tears from falling. “Since that night in the house. And Vegas was after that, so I didn’t think, I hoped, nothing happened. But the second she started talking, I just knew.”

She clenches her fists in her lap, shaking her head.

“She was smug. She kept making these little comments, insinuating that they were a thing. And when I asked her outright how Vegas was, she just smirked and said “WhAt HaPpEnS iN vEgAs StAyS iN vEgas.”

My jaw tightens.

“That was it for me” she says. “I didn’t want to be there anymore. I knew if I stayed, I’d just get more upset, and I didn’t want to make a scene. I just needed to leave.”

She looks at me with tired, blood shot eyes.

“Nate asked if I was okay, and I told him it was just a weird situation, but.. the truth is, it wasn’t just weird. It hurt.” She pauses. “I don’t think anything happened in Vegas.. Well, I didn’t. But the fact that she’s still here, still acting like she has some claim over him, and the fact that he-” Her voice breaks, and she swallows hard before continuing. “That he let it happen? That he didn’t even try to stop it? It just made me feel like a fool.”

I shake my head, anger building in my chest.

“You’re not a fool.” I tell her firmly. “He is.”

She gives me a weak smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Me and Nate ended up leaving then, he didn’t want to stay either” she says. “I didn’t even say goodbye to Matt, but at that point, I didn’t care. I just wanted to be away from it all.”

I nod. “Was anything said at all?”

She sighs. “Nope, when we got back to the villa. I checked my phone, hoping stupidly that maybe Matt had messaged me. I know he’d seen I left. I just hoped that he’d care.”

Her voice wavers on those last two words, and I clench my fists.

“But there was nothing” she whispers. “Not a single message. Not a bit of concern. And I just, got so angry because I knew why I was angry. Because I care. Because I have feelings for him.”

She blinks, a single tear slipping down her cheek.

“So I turned my phone off and went to bed, hoping that if I slept, the night would be over faster.”

I take a deep breath, letting everything she just told me sink in. I already was mad, but now? Now I’m fucking fuming.

I run a hand through my hair, shaking my head. “I'm going to say it again, but Matt’s a fucking idiot” I mutter.

She lets out a small, sad laugh. “Yeah. He is.”

I pull her in again, letting her rest against me.

I let out a deep sigh, rubbing my face. “I feel awful for not being there for you last night” I admit, my voice heavy with guilt.

Y/n immediately shakes her head. “No, don’t feel bad. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were living your life which you deserve, you were oblivious to everything.” She sniffles.

I lean my head back against the headboard, exhaling sharply. “Well, this whole situation has officially shocked me into being completely sober.”

That earns a small giggle from her, and I smile, relieved to see even the tiniest bit of light return to her eyes.

I tilt my head, looking at her. “Do you want me to stay in here for a bit?”

She hesitates for a second before shaking her head. “No, I think I’d like to be on my own for a little while.”

I nod, respecting her space. “Okay. But if you need anything, I mean it, Y/n, just come get me. I don’t care what time it is.”

She gives me a grateful smile. “Thanks, Nick.”

I squeeze her hand one last time before getting up, heading for the door. Before I step out, I glance back at her, still curled up in bed, her eyes staring off at nothing.

I want to fix this for her. I want to fix Matt. But for now, the only thing I can do is be here for her.

So I leave her room, closing the door gently behind me, and head to my own.

Y/n’s POV

I drag myself off of my bed to  push open the balcony door, letting the early morning air into my room. I feel like I’m suffocating in here, like the walls are closing in on me.

I crawl back into bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling nothing and everything all at once. Numbness settles over me, and I let it. I don’t know how long I lie there, my mind running in endless circles, but it must be at least an hour.

Then, faintly, I hear voices outside on the patio. My ears perk up at the low tones, one voice sharper than the other.

Nate and Chris.

I don’t move, barely breathing as I listen.

Nate’s voice is quiet, laced with disbelief. “I just don’t get it, man.”

Chris sighs. “What?”

“This whole thing. I came home with Y/n last night, and I thought-” He pauses, like he’s still processing it. “I thought Matt was different with her. That he actually gave a shit.”

Chris exhales, and I hear the scrape of a chair moving. “I don’t know what the fuck is going if I’m honest.”

Then followed by a pause.

“The girls are leaving soon” Chris says after a moment, his voice more certain. “I told them they have to go.”

Girls? So that means Rachel is in the villa, too.

I close my eyes, pressing my fingers into my temples. The thoughts of the four of them being in that booth all night. It’s not the four it should’ve been.

“Good” Nate finally says, though his voice is distant, still caught up in his thoughts. “That’s good.”

Neither of them says anything after that, just the occasional sound of movement. I don’t know what to do with any of this. Do I go back to sleep and pretend I didn’t hear? Do I stay curled up in bed and wait for them to leave?

I don’t know.

All I do know is that I don’t want to feel like this anymore.

I swallow the lump in my throat as I hear the girls voices outside, light and carefree, like they have no idea the storm they’ve left behind.

They laugh, saying their goodbyes, talking about how much fun they had. Christina’s voice is the loudest, going on about how this trip is "so needed." Rachel thanks Chris for having them over last night, her tone full of gratitude, like this was just some casual getaway and not the disaster it turned into.

“We’ll let you know when we’re back at our hotel” Rachel says smoothly.

Chris responds almost too casually, “Yeah, do that. Hopefully, we can meet later. One on one.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling the sting in my chest. Of course. Of course, he’s already setting up another meetup, like none of this meant anything. Like bringing them here, ruining everything, was just some minor inconvenience.

How long are they even here for?

I hear the shuffle of movement. I hear Christina giggle, making some passing comment about how wild the night was, and then the sound of the front door closing.

They’re gone.

But the mess they left behind? That’s still here.

I should feel relieved, but all I feel is exhausted.

I don’t move from my bed for the rest of the day. Not for food, not for water. I just lie there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of everything settle over me. My mind replays every moment, every touch, every look, every promise Matt ever gave me.

Was it all fake?

Did he ever mean any of it?

Or was his plan to play with me all along?

I feel stupid. Completely and utterly stupid. I let myself believe in something real. I let myself believe in him. And now, I’m left here, in this bed, in this villa, drowning in the realization that I was just another girl to him. Another meaningless moment in his never ending cycle of self sabotage.

Tears well up in my eyes, but I don’t let them fall. I’ve cried enough.

Instead, I just lay here. Empty.

Four more days in this place. Four more days of agony, of being in the same space as Matt, of pretending I don’t care when it’s eating me alive. Within the last 10 days, everything felt different, full of excitement, possibility. Now, it feels like I’m trapped in a nightmare I can’t wake up from.

It’s confusing. All of it. The way he looked at me before, the way he made me feel like I mattered. And now? Now he’s just another person who’s shown me that words mean nothing. That promises are empty.

But one thing is clear.

I don’t want to speak to Matt again.

a/n : GET HIM NICK GET HIM (dw any questions you may have will be answered)

taglist : @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel  @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @chrisstxrnsaxe @sophand4n4 @vickytaa @marrykisskilled @bxtchboy69 @yourfavsturniologirl @julisturn @sydneyylainn @sophia-77n @trevorsgodmother @sturnslutz @yourmother29 @girl24cherry @astronea @pinkdyit

[lilbabypanda-blog2]

Mydei x (fem)reader x Phainon

The training grounds were unusually quiet for a place that had just hosted one of Mydei and Phainon’s legendary competitions. A few scattered weapons lay forgotten in the dirt, the telltale signs of yet another impromptu duel between the two warriors. And right in the middle of the chaos, Phainon lay sprawled out on the ground, one arm draped over his forehead like a fallen hero.

The culprit? Mydei, according to Phainon.

When Y/N walked in, her footsteps light but quick with concern, her eyes immediately fell on the dramatic scene before her. Phainon, unmoving, save for the occasional twitch of his fingers, and Mydei standing over him with an expression that was caught somewhere between frustration and complete indifference.

Y/N’s brows furrowed as she rushed forward, kneeling beside Phainon. "What happened?" she asked, voice laced with worry.

Phainon, with all the grace of a seasoned performer, lifted a weak hand and pointed directly at Mydei. "The culprit… is him."

Y/N sighed, already knowing that the two had likely been at each other's throats over something incredibly stupid. Still, she was nothing if not caring, and seeing Phainon so pitifully sprawled out on the ground tugged at her sense of concern. She gently reached for his wrist, checking for any injuries, then brushed his hair from his forehead. "Are you hurt anywhere?" she asked softly.

Phainon peeked one eye open, barely suppressing a smug smirk at Mydei before shifting his expression into something far more pitiful. "Everywhere… Mydei was ruthless. I barely stood a chance."

Mydei scoffed, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. "You lost because you’re an idiot who doesn’t know when to quit."

Y/N shot him a disapproving look, one that made Mydei’s jaw tighten. She turned her attention back to Phainon, who took the opportunity to let out a slow, exaggerated sigh. "I don’t know if I’ll ever recover…"

Mydei exhaled sharply through his nose. "Oh, give me a break. You were fine two seconds ago."

Y/N, ignoring him, gently helped Phainon sit up, her hands steady on his shoulders. "You should have told me if you were training. I could’ve made sure neither of you got hurt."

Phainon grinned through his supposed agony. "That’s why you’re the best, Y/N. Always looking out for me. Unlike some people."

Y/N smiled softly, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Meanwhile, Mydei’s fingers twitched at his sides, his patience hanging by a thread. His jaw clenched as he glared at Phainon, who was now leaning comfortably into Y/N’s support, milking every ounce of sympathy he could get.

Then, just to drive the dagger in deeper, Phainon turned his head slightly and shot Mydei a triumphant smirk.

That was it.

Mydei’s eye twitched. He gritted his teeth, barely suppressing the urge to throw Phainon right back onto the ground where he belonged.

"Oh, come on," Mydei finally snapped. "He’s faking it! He’s not hurt. He’s just putting on a show so you’ll dote on him."

Y/N frowned, looking back at Phainon with concern. "He looks hurt."

Phainon sighed dramatically, resting his head against Y/N’s shoulder. "I appreciate you believing in me, Y/N. Some people just don’t have a heart."

Mydei let out a low, annoyed growl. "I swear to—"

Y/N turned back to him with a pointed glare. "Mydei, you should be more careful. You’re both strong warriors, but that doesn’t mean you should be reckless."

Mydei groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. He wasn’t used to being the one scolded, let alone over something this ridiculous. Meanwhile, Phainon basked in the moment, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"Fine," Mydei muttered, looking away. "Next time, I’ll let him win."

Phainon snickered. "You say that like you could."

Mydei’s eye twitched again.

Y/N sighed, shaking her head as she helped Phainon fully to his feet. "Just promise me you two won’t go overboard next time."

"Of course, Y/N," Phainon said, flashing a charming grin. "Anything for you."

Mydei resisted the overwhelming urge to tackle him right then and there.

As they walked off, Phainon still leaning against Y/N for support, he took one last glance at Mydei over his shoulder and mouthed, "Jealous?"

Mydei exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay calm.

Next time, he was definitely throwing Phainon into the dirt—whether Y/N was watching or not.

[lightlycareless]

the jealous y/n i promised. one of them, anyways :)

warnings: naoya used to like someone before you. the thought of it makes you... uncomfortable, by some reason. highschool au. minimal proofreading but sometimes you just gotta let things go...

It all started because someone decided they just had to mess with you on your first trip to Kyoto, during your first school exchange event.

As yearly intended, the game would be hosted on the winning school; not that someone managed to defeat Gojo and Geto, but to shake things a bit the higher ups decided to break the rules and give the opposing school a chance—maybe fighting in their hometowns would help against them.

Coincidentally, this would mark your first time participating, and what better way to do so than by going to a city you’ve never been to?

We’re you excited?

Undoubtedly. How could you not consider these past details?

However, that wasn’t the only (not the most important) notion that had you feeling such way; what actually got you all giddy was the fact that you’d be going with your boyfriend! Which secretly turned this school trip into a small holiday of sorts, a promise of a good time once he offered to take you to the city and show you all kinds of enthralling experiences you wouldn’t be able to find anywhere else.

It was bound to become a memorable visit, one that you wouldn’t be able to forget, worthy enough to share with your eventual children!

And it was… but not for the reasons you expected.

“Ooooh, you know what this trip actually means, right Y/N?” Gojo would begin to stir, as usual. You do your best to ignore him. “You can ignore me all you want, but I’m just warning you, it’s going to be awkward.”

“Awkward?” You blink, taking his bait. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t say it, Satoru…” Geto warns, going against his very nature, which is to rile him further, and instead, showing genuine caution that you’d come to lament later on. “You’re just being cruel.”

“What is? Tell me!” You cry, fallen victim to your curiosity.

“Probably not as cruel as Naoya taking his girlfriend to see his crush. Or past crush, I guess.”

“Crush…?” You blink, your heart dropping to your stomach at the thought of his affections once belonging to someone else. It shouldn’t be that way, of course. Whatever happened before you met him should be beyond your concern.

And yet, you couldn’t stop yourself from torturing yourself with the thought, needlessly wondering who was the lucky girl to previously obtain his attention.

Was she nice? Was she pretty? Did anything manage to happen between the two…?

…

…

Does she look like you?

You ought to know better than to ask questions you do not want answered.

“Naoya hasn’t told you?” Satoru worried. “He used to have this huge crush on Utahime, like you don’t imagine how big it was; he’d stalk her everywhere she went, turn all red whenever she was near—“

“Satoru!” Suguru condemned, but it was too late.

It’s safe to say you no longer looked forward to your trip to Kyoto.

“She was going to learn so anyways, might as well get it over with!”

“And?? That doesn’t give you permission to be an idiot about it!”

“I’m just preparing Y/N! It’s not my fault that Naoya hasn’t told her about it… which is quite suspicious if you ask me, more so since he’s been in contact with her quite recently! Did you know he asked me for her number? I think he might not be over—“

“Do you ever shut up, Satoru?” You coldly interject, retreating soon after before the tears forming in your eyes could further humiliate you.

Suguru was right, there was no need for him to be as imprudent when it came to the relationship you were clearly very happy with; but you should’ve not let his behavior affect you either, that’s just how he is—everyone knew that—since he was a little kid.

Satoru just had this need to make everyone miserable simply because he could; but now that your insecurities were stirred, all you could do was revisit Naoya’s enthusiasm for your visit… and tie it with Utahime.

Overanalyze every interaction you had with him and wonder if he ever imagined it was her instead of you.

Like when he complimented you for appearance, called you cute when decorating your hair with a bow, which after Satoru’s bold accusations, you come to find it might’ve been because of nostalgia, longing. Not because Naoya actually meant it.

Utahime’s beautiful, there's no denying that.

She's also taller than you, brighter, determined; with no patience for nonsense yet kind enough to help others when asked. You should know, on the few occasions you’ve had the opportunity to interact with her, she was nothing but gentle when explaining one of the assignments you were struggling with—even offering to tutor you if you continued to have questions.

Undoubtedly, a perfect match for Naoya; both politically and personally. A conclusion that makes your poor heart ache the longer you keep comparing yourself to her.

No one looks at her and thinks “she's too childish” or “she's unsuited for the life of sorcery”. In fact, she’s the type of person one would go to when in trouble, the one to look for when in need of comfort.

While you… well, you’re funny. And apparently, a bit childish too. But definitely not the hope for the next generation of sorcerers.

When weighing all these alleged facts, and after placing Utahime on a pedestal while desecrating your own worth, you question…

Did Naoya settle on you because he couldn't end up with her?

Or were you simply a steppingstone, a diversion while they reunite in the future?

…

…

…

Are you fated to never be good enough by yourself? Everyone’s second choice when their initial plan doesn’t work?

It's not something you'd discern at a simple glance, but when Naoya begins to act more and more secretive the closer the date of your trip got, the more you're inclined to believe so; his distance had been so glaringly obvious that the only time you’ve managed to spend with him was when accidentally bumping into each other in the hallways when going to your next class.

Still, your stubborn heart gave him one last chance. One more opportunity to deny all the ridiculous claims plaguing your mind and realize that the sole reason he’s glued to his phone is because of his family, tending his responsibilities as heir…

And not because he’s seeking another woman.

“Ah, Y/N… I'm a little behind with some of my projects right now so I don't think I'll be able to join you for lunch… but don’t let that stop you, go ahead, eat something. I wouldn't want my princess to starve because of me”

That’s when everything made sense.

Because Naoya, though he may hate paperwork, essays, and all that deviated from exorcizing curses, he was still an excellent student and always delivered on time. Might’ve coerced someone to do his work from time to time when not in the mood, but it still brought you back to the same conclusion.

A realization that sparked your anger, bitterness—jealousy.

But most importantly, sadness.

Which you could no longer hide the fateful day of your trip.

“Wait, Y/N—! Why are you in such a rush? We’re still on time for the train!” Naoya would say after catching up to you. The two had previously agreed to meet up just outside your dorm and go to the train station together from there; but alas, you were nowhere to be seen when he eventually arrived, and this caused him to be very surprised.

After all, you were virtually inseparable from him; you would’ve spent the night with him if only it wasn’t prohibited. So… why the sudden indifference?

One could only try to be compassionate when remembering this was his first, serious relationship, so there were many things he had yet to learn about having a girlfriend and how to treat her.

It’s just a misfortune he’d come to learn that lesson harshly so.

“I'm fine, thank you.” you frown, ignoring Naoya as you continue to pull your suitcase towards the exit. The faculty gave students two options, either take the provided transportation and ride with the rest of your classmates to the train station or go by yourself.

Solitude was only appetizing with the silent turmoil you carried.

Your boyfriend doesn't say much after that, though he does note the striking difference of your usually bubbly personality with this… muted version of his girlfriend.

When you once harbored excitement to travel to a completely new city, you now… well, it looked as if you'd rather get sick than do this. And it didn’t seem to be caused by anxiety either, he’d seen you nervous and this was not the way you behaved when such.

Not exactly the disposition he hoped for today's happening, and yet, he’s still light years away from figuring why!

Was it better to simply… leave you alone?

“Y/N, let me help you.” he decides otherwise, at least your stubbornness is something he’s familiar with and thus, not easily swayed to back off when you ignore him again. “Princess—”

“Don’t touch me!” You exclaim, pulling your hand away from his. “I said I'm fine, now leave me alone!”

Naoya blinks, at first startled by your sudden outburst, before growing irritated, never one to enjoy being lashed out on—less if it came from someone as important as you.

“What the hell has gotten into you?!’ Naoya scorns, trying to get a hold of your hand only for you to dismiss him again. “I'm just trying to help you!”

“Yeah, right. Just to get there quicker, huh?” you frown.

“I mean, is that not ideal?”

“You're unbelievable.”

“Huh??? Will you at least care to explain why you’re so moody out of the sudden??”

His choice of dismissing words stabs your heart in a sharp, painful way that only serves to ignite your anger even more. Naoya really had no idea, did he?

Or did he believe you were as naïve as he desperately intended to portray you?

“Oh, it’s nothing. Nothing at all! In fact, how about I just step aside so you can do everything you want in Kyoto? Go see who you want to see while I stay behind, quiet, so you won't have to worry about me?!”

“But—what?? Did you forget were supposed to spend time together over there?? Show you the city?!” Naoya exclaims. “What happens to that??”

“I don't know, you tell me!” You cry back. “No, you know what, don't tell me. I don't feel like hearing—”

“Oh, no you're not.” Naoya says, take ahold of your arm and forcing you to see him face to face—getting a good look of your red, swollen eyes from undoubtedly spending the whole night crying, that only made his determination to find out what ailed you even stronger.

And deal with whomever was responsible for this dreadful act.

Even if it was yourself, or unwittingly himself too.

“We're going to spend two hours on a bullet train which I don't intend to have by you ignoring me through the entirety of it.” He goes on.

“Naoya—”

“Who did this to you? Tell me who hurt you and I'll make sure they—”

“Just stop it already! You don't have to set up all these… theatrics just so you can feel less guilty about seeing her!”

“Her?” He breathes, of all things you could’ve sputtered, this is the least, most shocking one he could’ve received. Where did you even get this idea?? “Pray tell, who am I seeing?”

“I don't—I don't want to talk anymore.”

“Y/N!” Naoya exclaims, you flinch—a reaction that has him immediately regretting his act, softening his voice. “I can't help but feel there's a sort of misunderstanding here, just tell me what's going on… Please.”

“...I just want to know if you— if you still harbor feelings for that person before me?”

“Huh?” Naoya frowns. “Talk clearly, mochi. I don't understand a word you're saying—”

“I'm asking if you still like the girl you liked before me!” You cry. “Or perhaps never stopped liking…”

“Who did I like?” He asks back, genuinely confused.

“Are you going to make me say it?!”

“I mean, if we're to get anywhere.”

“Fine! I’m referring to Utahime! You like her, don't you?!”

“Uta—what?? Where did you get that idea?!”

“Don't—don’t act like you don't know what I'm talking about!” You insist. “Satoru told me…”

“Ah, and he's nothing but a reliable source, isn't he?”

“Suguru confirmed it too! Or at least his reaction did…”

Naoya pinches the bridge of his noise, exasperated.

“When are you going to stop believing the stupidities they spew at you?”

“Well, Satoru had no reason to lie about that!”

Naoya can think of many, thousands in fact, and they always boil down to malice…

It's hard to believe how he once used to admire him, even thought of himself as very similar to him. But now that he keeps needlessly tormenting his love, that sentiment is far gone—he’ll deal with that matter soon enough, right after reassuring you he doesn’t have feelings for his past classmate.

Not anymore, that is.

“... Just tell me if you still like her, so I can stay out of your way—”

“I don't like her, Y/N.” Naoya declares. “Honestly, I don't think I ever did.”

“Then why did he say that?”

All must’ve started back when he was still a first-year student, having just transferred from Kyoto after demanding to be close to one of his admirations.

Satoru, always the obnoxious one since the beginning of time, had the tradition of pestering all newcomers in hopes of finding a victim to let out all his frustrations on for the following years; however, his sights were specifically the Zen'in heir whom he was previously acquainted with and was quite surprised to see “interacting with the mortals”, since their families often preferred to homeschool their talents.

Of course, now that he was within reach, he just couldn't miss the opportunity of mocking him in any conceivable shape and form, beginning with questions intended to get a rise out of him.

“Are you trying to tell me you don’t like any of the girls here?” Satoru would begin, for the nth time that day. “Or perhaps left a darling back at home?”

“No, I do not” No matter the insistences, Naoya remained strong in his beliefs, much to Satoru’s disappointment. But if anything, this made it into a far more gratifying challenge.

“Oh, really? Do you expect me to believe the great Zen’in heir has trouble getting with girls?” He continues to tease. “Hm, should’ve known—the only way anyone could tolerate you people is by coercing—"

“Fine! Alright! I like Utahime!” Naoya promptly declared, making Satoru’s expectations… well, shatter. Whatever he had in mind was nothing compared with the seeming reality!

“No way, you like her???!!”

Obviously, for someone as aggravating, set to get the worst of people, he could never truly find enjoyment in Utahime that wasn’t from tormenting her.

But to Naoya… well, he’d soon find out there was more to his answer than just selecting the one he found attractive at the moment.

Just as it was stated, he found Utahime to be quite… alluring. She was fairly good looking, and conservative enough in certain aspects, at least the ones he considered his clan would care of.

Perhaps the only thing he didn’t enjoy was that explosive temperament of hers, how she always fell victim to Satoru’s provocations instead of ignoring him, as a proper lady would’ve.

But he still gave her a chance, tried approaching her, get to know what she thought of him, how much he knew of the Zen’in clan, and most importantly, if she enjoyed being a miko—because such lifestyle could prove detrimental if they got together, and the last thing he needed was more personal struggles to deal with.

Yet, as much as he insisted…as much as Utahime tried to ignore his preceding reputation and give him the benefit of the doubt, nothing would come out from someone that didn’t have the patience to see past of his rough exterior and understand why Naoya was the way he was.

Who he could truly be.

Such things were meant for soulmates, after all.

And all that could’ve been was effectively terminated the moment he decided to transfer to Tokyo.

But for the only other person who saw everything unfold, Satoru, there was still much, much more to exploit.

“...Satoru said you’d always get all flustered whenever she was around” you quietly continue. “So, if you really didn’t like her, why would he say that?”

“Because he'd follow me everywhere to tease me, it was becoming quite… irritating.” He answered honestly, but still not enough to ease your poor heart of its selfish, hurtful assumptions.

“It still doesn't explain why you were talking with her these past few days” you go on, as much as a part of you desired not to.  You just wish that whatever you found out, it wouldn't shatter you. “You’d even hide your phone from me…”

Naoya, understanding how bad this looked, sighs. Nonetheless, if he wishes to preserve your affection he cannot hold back on the truth.

“I… I didn't want to tell you, it was meant to be a surprise, really…  but, well, I managed to figure out where the exchange event is to happen, which is coincidentally, an area to which Utahime is native to. And since I promised to show you around, take you to the best places…. I thought it might've been productive to ask for her input.

I know I pride myself on being from Kyoto, quite arrogantly so, but the truth is… I barely know anything outside what my family has shown me. I wasn't much of a friendly person so I didn't have anywhere to hang out.

And I didn't want to disappoint you, I couldn't let you down, especially after instantly listening to your excitement. The thought alone of ruining your first trip to the city is enough to drive me mad, so… I believed that doing all this was the right path to take.

… But had I known this would be the outcome, I would rather face your disappointment that to never have you by my side again.”

At his explanation, conformed of genuine words and concerns, all you could do is cry.

Weep at the incredulity of your assumptions, ashamed of your distrustful behavior towards him for once again, believing the past that once plagued Naoya.

How long would it take for your insecurities to finally free you? To stop listening what others whisper at your ear, of how he was the wrong person for you?

Until he decides he’s had enough of your childish antics and leaves for good?

Naoya’s far from perfect, undoubtedly so, but he's trying his hardest and he's changing because of it: when he once cared for nothing but his needs, all he could think of now is your happiness.

Were you willing to disappoint him? Rupture this relationship and lose him forever?

You'd never forgive yourself, which is why you wept, and wept, and wept.

Because you had, right before you, the only thing you ever wanted in life— a man that loved you just as you are—and almost ruined it.

But Naoya, whom perhaps regretted this situation the most, didn’t see the reason behind your tears and instead, believed them to be caused by his own failure, the lack of oversight to realize the gravity of his acts and subsequently poorly attempting to bridge his misjudgment.

A part of him doesn’t worry about your solitude, because he knows you’ll always have your friends and family to support you.

But him… without you, he’s truly alone. And he can’t—couldn’t let you go.

 “Tell me, Y/N. What do I need to do for you to believe me? For you to trust me again?” he quickly begins to beg, spew just about anything that might earn him your compassion and forgiveness—one last chance.

Though a simple remedy was all that he needed.

“A—A—hug…!” You sob, and Naoya doesn’t need to be told twice to quickly wrap his arms around you and pull you close into his chest, hoping that by his warmth you’d be reassured into ceasing the one thing that always shattered his heart. “I’m—I’m sorry, I should’ve never distrusted you, it’s just that I—”

“You don’t have to say anything, princess. It was just a mistake.” He says, pressing his face against the top of your head.

“But I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did!” you retort. “I shouldn’t have accused you of something that I wasn’t certain of! Of something you would’ve never done, now I know…”

“Why did you believe that I’d have eyes for another woman in the first place…? Have I not shown you what you mean to me?”

“Ye—yes, but…”

“But?”

You sniffle, before swallowing.

“I guess a part of me always felt undeserving of you.” You confess. “Skeptical to believe I found someone that truly loved me, that’d be willing to do all you’ve done for me.”

Naoya at first remains quiet, starting at you in complete disbelief before letting out a warm chuckle, making you frown.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing, I just… learned we’re not so different, after all.”

You look up to him. “What do you mean?”

“I too, at times, feel underserving of you.” He confesses. “You don’t know how many times I’ve feared the possibility of you simply… deciding you were no longer happy with me; that you might realize there is someone infinitely better than me and leave.”

A certain friend of yours made sure to revive such sentiment within him whenever nearby.

But just as him, you never had eyes for anyone else that wasn’t the love of your life.

“…I guess that’s another way to know we’re meant for each other.” You quietly discern, resting your face back into his chest while Naoya laughs once more. “Does that mean you’re not… upset with me anymore?”

“Upset? If anything, I was quite delighted to see you jealous; you’re quite cute when you are, you know?” He teases, gently pinching your cheek.

“I wasn’t jealous!” You cry, he raises an eyebrow. “I mean… not without reason.”

“Have I not told you already that you are the most beautiful, adorable, gentlest woman in the whole world?” Naoya continues, you turn bright red.

“Now you’re just embarrassing me!” you gasp, pushing your face deeper into his chest.

“The list is honestly endless, but we do have a train to catch.” He reminds you, making your eyes widen and gasp.

“Oh, my god you’re right! We have to hurry!” you say, ready to fetch your suitcase, before bashfully looking back to him. “…Are you still sitting with me?”

“Unless you’re saving it for a random person.” He raises an eyebrow.

“Nope, and I do not want to run the risk of being paired with a weirdo!”  you exclaim. “You have a lot to catch up with me, anyways.”

“I know.” Naoya responds. “Though I doubt talking about preparations and schoolwork will be any exciting.”

“I was thinking something a bit more… personal. Like kisses.” You murmur, and he smirks before leaning down to peck your lips, heart fluttering in return.

“Is that a good way to start?”

You smile, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him back.

“Perfect.”

Your trip to Kyoto proves to be just as exciting as you expected, if not more thanks to all his precedent planning, that you simply couldn’t wait for the day you’d come again.

Thankfully, you’d have plenty of time to do so once convincing Naoya to take you to visit the Zen’in… much to his chagrin. But anything to make you happy, he supposes.

yes i love setting up more stories should I be blamed? NO. ahahaha

anyways, I hoped you enjoyed it 🙈 I couldn't (nor wouldn't) write anything that might be interpreted as slander against utahime cause i don't feel that way about her (though I feel incredibly disappointed that we didn't get to see more of her 😒😒😒😒) but also I couldn't write her in such way that would make one ask "well, if she was so good for naoya then why is he with y/n? lol"

yet I hope I was able to show how immature/selfish he was with her 🤣 asking questions like "I wonder if she's heard of my clan" instead of trying to genuinely get to know her and such. it's the power of love y'all.......................................

aaaah what i mean to say is, I hope you enjoyed this :') i think it's the first time I ever write Naoya taking interest in someone else, even though it was in the past 🤔 still...

take care and hope to see y'all soon!!

p.s. what do y'all think utahime's reaction was to naoya dating y/n? I have a few ideas but have yet to choose one lol.

[dazedangsl]

BLOWING MONEY FAST   skater!chris

When Chris’s board gets stolen, y/n surprises him with a new one, customized with inside jokes and doodles only they would understand.

Chris had never been so pissed in his life. He’d left his skateboard leaning against his car for a minute. Just a minute. But when he came back, it was gone. Stolen. It wasn’t the kind of board you could just replace—at least, not without feeling like an idiot. That board had been with him through everything. It had scratches from late-night sessions, stickers that had been on there since he was 15, and a little dent from that one time he wiped out trying a trick he couldn’t even land. It was his, and now, it was gone. The worst part? No one had even seen anything. No one knew who took it. It was just gone. “Shit,” he muttered, pacing around the parking lot. He was pissed off but also kind of empty. That board was more than just something he rode—it was an extension of himself. He sent a text to y/n, knowing she’d get it.

“Someone stole my board.”

It wasn’t much, but it was enough for y/n to know the kind of day he was having. She didn’t reply right away, but he figured she was busy. He ran a hand through his hair, sitting on the curb. What the hell am I gonna do now?

The next day, Chris wasn’t expecting much. Maybe a pity message from y/n, maybe a distraction, but nothing more. So when she texted him early in the afternoon with just two words: “Meet me”—he was thrown off. “Where?” he typed back, raising an eyebrow. “Park. You’ll see.”

When he showed up, y/n was standing next to their car, arms crossed, looking smug. She didn’t say anything at first, just waved him over.

Chris raised an eyebrow, a little confused. “You got something to show me or are we just standing here?”

“Patience,” y/n said, smiling just enough to make him curious.

She motioned to the back of the car, where a large sheet was draped over something. Chris couldn’t help but lean in, eyes scanning over it.

“Is this…?”

“Yeah, yeah,” y/n said, pulling the sheet away slowly. “I figured you might need a new one.”

Underneath was a fresh skateboard, brand new, not a scratch on it. It looked normal at first glance, but then Chris saw the details. The deck was covered in black and grey, but there were tiny doodles all over it—subtle things that only he and y/n would ever notice. A little sketch of a pizza slice in the corner (from that night they had the awful pizza), a drawing of a stick figure with a helmet on (an inside joke about Chris always wearing gear), and a couple of random notes scribbled across the edges. There were even a few phrases, like, “Get over yourself” and “Maybe next time, huh?”—quotes from some of their dumbest conversations.

Chris blinked, then smirked. He ran a hand over the board, examining the details. The board was a damn masterpiece, but more than that, it was a reflection of their relationship—laid-back, but full of random, weird moments they both cherished. It was perfect.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he said, voice low. He tried to act cool, but there was a bit of softness behind it.

“I know,” y/n said, shrugging. “But you’re not exactly the type to ask for help when something matters to you. And I figured if I didn’t do something, you’d just mope around for the next week.”

Chris gave her a look. “I do not mope.”

y/n raised an eyebrow. “Sure you don’t.”

He chuckled, stepping forward to pick up the board. “This… this is actually kind of perfect,” he said, genuinely. “I mean, I don’t know how you did it, but yeah. This is way better than the old one.”

“I had to make sure it was up to your standards,” y/n said, her tone soft but playful.

Chris looked at the board again, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. It wasn’t just a replacement—it was something that actually meant something.

He ran a hand along the edge, grinning at one of the doodles. “You know, you could’ve just gotten me a new board, but this—this is next-level. This is us.”

“Exactly.” y/n gave a shrug, a slight grin tugging at her lips. “Now, what’s the deal? You going to ride it or just keep staring at it like a weirdo?”

Chris smirked, ready to get back to doing what he loved. “Guess I better break it in then.”

He jumped on the board and pushed off, rolling down the park path. y/n stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching with a quiet satisfaction.

It didn’t take long for Chris to start getting used to the new board. And as the day went on, it felt like the missing piece had been filled. Every little detail on the deck—the subtle artwork, the personal touches, the things only he and y/n would recognize—made it feel like his again.

But the thing that really stuck with him was that y/n had understood. She got it. She knew that it wasn’t just about the board itself, but about what it represented.

“Hey,” Chris called out as he coasted back toward y/n. “Thanks. Really.”

y/n nodded, not looking up. “Don’t mention it.”

Chris stopped right in front of her, hopping off the board. “No, seriously. This means a lot to me.”

“Good,” y/n replied, her tone soft. “Now, let’s see you do something cool with it.”

Chris grinned. “Alright, alright. Watch this.” He grabbed the board again and took off down the path.

y/n watched him go, a small smile on her face. Yeah, maybe it was just a board to everyone else, but to them—it was more.

And sometimes, the little things were all it took.

[skeletonh0e]

Hear me out, OK? What if on a random day you just feel excited, like like Ahmed.This is mine.I love it so much.I'm going gna kiss it all over, but with all the sans ( NSFW or no that is up to you)

I'm keeping it SFW for now, I got plenty of NSFW requests in my drafts (which I love ya'll for)

Get smooched on idiot (ft. The Boys)

Classic Sans:

"oh hey ba-"

Can't even get the words out before you set yourself upon him, smooching all over

And you sure as hell aren't going to hear him complaining

Even if you do it in public

Might get some people telling you to get a room but you sure as hell ain't listening

"Mine, mine, mine," You repeat placing smooches all over his stupid little face, "Loooove you."

The skeleton chuckles, probably covered in god knows how many smooch marks if you're wearing makeup "yeah yeah love ya too"

His entire face just screams content happy fat cat energy

Underswap Sans:

Congrats you have flustered him

Granted he's probably pulled something similar on you before in the past but still! That's different! (Not really)

He'll pout and whine especially if he's in public "honeyyyy im workingggg" but he doesn't make any active effort to stop you

Well he's very squirmy but he's kind of always like that

The magnificent Sans cannot keep losing his composure!

Y/N: "Are you miiiiine?"

Blue, completely flushed: ".....yes-"

He's going you back for this

Underfell Sans:

If you try in public he's grumpliy shoving you off

"none of that soft shit!"

If you try in private he's still gonna complain but just kind of let's you do what you want

He loves it make no mistake he's just a grouch and struggles to express emotions still

He'll say you're being cringe but the moment you actually stop and pullbaway he'll basically just go "i didn't say you could do that"

And pull you back forward

If you do it while he's drunk he's basically just melts in your arms though

Horrortale Sans:

Horror: "What is this?"

Y/N: "Affection!"

Horror: "Disgusting......."

Horror: "Do it again."

For as scary and intimidating as he looks man is a sucker for physical affection, honestly somewhat touch starved and just idly wraps his arms around you while you nearly smooch him to death

Just be meanwhile of the crack in his head though it doesn't hurt but it's definitely sensitive

He nearly purrs or let's out something akin to that, it's more of a soft growl but it's definitely not a sigh of disenouragement

"Mine~" You playfully whisper as you smooch around his neck bone and you get a very gruff "always" in response

Underlust Sans:

"is this my reward for being such a good boy?"

You know the dirty jokes are coming, this is him we're talking about but you enjoy bombarding him with all types of intimacy, sexual or otherwise

And he certainly doesn't mind the attention, though honestly just being completely mushy gushy is a fairly decent way to fluster him

Especially as you dote on him telling him out much you love him

And the fact you get a rare moment of him blushing just makes you wanna do it even more

He's definitely returning a few of them make no mistake and giving you a playful squeeze as he teases you

Fresh Sans:

Takes it as a challenge

Get ready for a smooch war!!

And he's gonna win!!

You two quickly fall to the floor, rapidly kissing and holding each other, occasionally giggling like idiots

The bastard cheats, tickling you in certain areas so he can get the upper hand and you call him out on it

"all is fair in love and war broski!"

"You're lucky I love you"

He definitely documents this all down later, he has a notebook of all he people he kisses and he has a special section dedicated to you in particular

[eeerrrrewsd]

A Love That Can’t Be Named

Part 2

Bruce didn’t move for a long time after you left.

The space you had occupied still carried the warmth of your presence, but it was fading, just like everything else good in his life. Just like you.

And yet, he had let you go.

Of course, he had.

Because what did you expect?

Bruce Wayne did not get to have good things.

Bruce Wayne did not get to keep the people who mattered.

And you? You mattered too much.

He exhaled slowly, pressing his fingers against his temple as if the pressure might somehow lessen the ache in his chest. It didn’t. He knew it wouldn’t.

Alfred’s voice drifted in from the doorway, quiet, unimposing. “That went well, I presume.”

Bruce didn’t answer.

Alfred sighed, stepping forward, his usual patience laced with something almost reproachful. “You know, sir, for someone as intelligent as you, you have a truly remarkable ability to be an idiot.”

Bruce’s jaw clenched. “Alfred—”

“No,” Alfred cut in, firm. “No excuses. No brooding deflections. You hurt her, and for what?”

Bruce’s fingers curled into his palm. He knew why.

Because she made him weak.

Because she saw him, and Bruce wasn’t sure which part was more terrifying—the fact that she could, or the fact that she still wanted him anyway.

Or maybe it was the fact that he wanted her, too.

That he had always wanted her.

But he couldn’t have her.

Didn’t she understand that?

Didn’t she see that every time she looked at him with those damn knowing eyes, every time she stayed, despite every cold push and every hard-edged word meant to drive her away?

He wanted her to be safe.

And loving Bruce Wayne? That was anything but safe.

Alfred shook his head, something almost pitying in his expression. “One day, she’s not going to come back.”

Bruce exhaled sharply. He already knew that.

The problem was, he wasn’t sure what was worse: the thought of losing her, or the thought that he might already have.

You weren’t sure how long you wandered the city after storming out of Wayne Manor, but by the time you finally made it back to your place, exhaustion clung to you like a second skin.

The fight—if you could even call it that—kept replaying in your head.

Bruce’s blank expression. His steady, even tone. The way he had looked at you like you were nothing.

But you weren’t stupid.

You had seen the way his hands twitched. Had heard the slight hitch in his breath. Had felt the sharp, almost desperate energy between you both—an energy that had been there for months, thrumming beneath the surface, always just on the edge of too much.

Bruce wanted you.

He cared.

You knew he did.

But he would rather burn alive than admit it.

And that? That made your heart ache in ways you weren’t sure you could fix.

You sank onto your couch, head falling back against the cushions, eyes closing against the familiar sting of frustrated tears.

Maybe this was your fault.

Maybe you should’ve never let yourself believe that Bruce Wayne would ever let himself love you.

Maybe you should’ve never loved him in the first place.

A sharp knock at your door made you jolt upright.

Your stomach twisted.

For a second, a ridiculous second, you let yourself hope.

But when you swung the door open, it wasn’t Bruce standing there.

It was Selina Kyle.

She raised an eyebrow at your expression. “Did I interrupt something dramatic?”

You swallowed hard, stepping aside. “Just my pride, probably.”

Selina hummed, walking inside with the casual confidence of someone who knew she belonged anywhere she went. She took one look at you and sighed.

“Let me guess. Tall, dark, and brooding said something stupid?”

You let out a breathy laugh, bitter and exhausted. “He’s a real poet, that one.”

Selina perched on the arm of your couch, studying you with those sharp, feline eyes. Then, she smirked.

“You know, it drives him insane that he loves you.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the casual ease with which she said it. “Excuse me?”

She leaned in, almost conspiratorial. “Oh, come on. You think I haven’t noticed the way he watches you? The way he never lets his guard down, except when you’re around?”

Your breath hitched.

No.

You knew it.

But hearing someone else say it made it feel… real.

Selina tilted her head, smirking. “So? What are you gonna do about it?”

You swallowed hard, fingers curling into your palms.

The real question was, what was Bruce going to do?

And how much longer were you willing to wait for him to figure it out?

Bruce was standing on the rooftop across from your apartment, watching as Selina leaned in to whisper something to you.

He couldn’t hear what she said.

Didn’t need to.

Because he saw the way your expression changed.

Saw the way you stiffened, lips parting slightly as if the words had unraveled you.

Bruce’s throat tightened.

He had made a mistake.

He had known it the second you walked away.

And now?

Now, he was running out of time to fix it.

Part1

[nephilimeq]

Like A Kid Again

Prompt: Banter

@bucktommyfluffebruary

A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62721625/chapters/162682855

Buck followed after his boyfriend, trying to figure out what had gotten into him.

With his fingers tightly gripping his, he practically dragged him further up the hill, looking as though he was going to be taking them all the way up to the crest, and Buck shook his head and attempted to pull out of his grip, saying, “Hey, I said we could have a picnic and I already did all the hiking up here, I’m not doing more of that,” and was thrilled when he escaped from his grip and moved out of reach, skipping backwards, grinning as Tommy reached out to grab at his waist, but missing by a mile.

“Ha! Nice try!” he teased, being careful of his footing, making sure that he didn’t slip on the slick grass at the same time he dodged his boyfriend’s attempts to recapture him—and then was suddenly taken aback when Tommy caught up to him and managed to get his fingers around the back of his shirt, pulling him towards him.

“Got you,” he muttered, sounding far too smug.

Buck twisted and managed to get out his grasp a second time and tried to run off a second time.

“Gotta catch me!” he shouted over his shoulder, smiling wide when he saw Tommy trying to catch up to him, for once his long legs coming in handy as he ran from him, not quite going full speed, but going just fast enough to make him work for it.

--

Tommy did his best to catch his breath as he tried to catch up to Evan, his boyfriend suddenly in a mood, and he prayed that the gazelle-legged idiot didn’t ruin his plans. The ring was in his pocket, zipped up tightly, but as it bounced against his side as he jogged after his boyfriend, he felt a flutter of nerves.

He loved Evan, that much was certain…but was it too soon?

Was it too soon to ask him to spend the rest of his life with him and wake up every morning next to the same person without ever letting him have the chance to experience anything else outside of his first queer relationship?

Wait, no. He shook his head as he picked up his speed, trying to catch up to his boyfriend, reminding himself that he was doing Evan a disservice by thinking that just because he was his first relationship with a guy that he didn’t know what he was getting himself into—hell, that had been one of the things they’d talked about when they got back together, about how he had made assumptions and made decisions for the two of them instead of talking it over with him.

Tommy’s hand caught the edge of his boyfriend’s shirt a second time, and he did his best to shove the thought to the side—

—but then Evan slipped away again, saying, “You gotta do better than that!” and he narrowed his eyes and refocused on trying to catch the thirty-four year old man who had suddenly turned into a child playing a game of tag or keep-away.

The item in question being kept? His heart.

As hokey as it was, there was something freeing in the way he chased after him over the wide expanse of grass, both of them being careful to avoid the edges where there were trees, knowing that there was a dangerous drop-off on the other side, and Tommy smirked as he realized how he could catch him and yelled, “Don’t go over the edge! I don’t have a helicopter to catch you, and our cell service is spotty, at best!” and Evan almost immediately slowed down.

…and Tommy lunged forward, thrilled when he got both of his hands around his waist.

--

“Got you,” the airman whispered into Buck’s ear, and he shivered, but at the same time tried to pull out of his grip. When he found he couldn’t, he did his best to wriggle against him in an attempt to distract him, but Tommy merely said, “Nice try, but even your perfect ass isn’t gonna distract me…”

He moved one hand and reached down and lightly slapped it.

Buck grunted.

“Ugh, babe…don’t start something you can’t finish,” he lowly said, and his boyfriend chuckled and breathed into his ear, “Who says I can’t finish?” and Buck rolled his eyes and swiftly turned around and gave him a look, no longer trying to get away from him, and said as he levelled his eyes at him, “We are in a public space, I don’t care that we are isolated in the middle of nature, I am not letting you dick me down here in the grass,” and was thrilled when that earned him a full body laugh, Tommy’s eyes crinkling up, his nose scrunching in the process, one of his favorite things to see on him.

While laughing, Tommy managed to gasp out, “Dick…dick you down? You…you thought that was…was the right…right phrase to use?” and Buck nodded, not budging one bit, moving his hand around his hip to pull him close.

“Oh, I’m sorry, what would you have me use? Laying me low? Having grassy congress? Logging my—?”

“Don’t finish that sentence. I beg of you,” he softly pleaded, his eyes wide, and Buck snorted and shook his head and got closer to him and said, “Okay, but only because you asked so nicely,” feeling the way his boyfriend’s fingers slipped into his back pocket and gently groped him.

“By the way, what’s gotten into you?” he asked the airman, curious as to his mood. “First you take over my picnic, and, you know, I was chill with that. It’s a good spot, nice and romantic, don’t think I could’ve picked a better place. Second, you start taking pictures of the food…and then third, you decided to drag me further up the hill to the very edge of what I think is reasonable. So…let me ask my question again: what’s gotten into you?”

Tommy’s expression turned soft.

“I dunno. Just…follow me, will you?”

He slowly unwound himself from him and instead gently held his head and gave him a beckoning look with his eyes, and Buck felt a flutter in his chest and he nodded, following his boyfriend up the hill, closer to the edge, putting his trust in him…

[my-prompt-dump]

Good Damage but it's SakuSuo ver.

SAKURA: I get that you're trying to be helpful—just in your weird, cryptic, gentlemany way.

SUO: Oh? Thank you.

SAKURA: Look, I don’t wanna be stuck here, just being your grade captain.

SUO: I think you do, though. Because whenever people are watching you, it’s obvious—you’re having fun.

SAKURA: That’s not the point! I’m not doing this to have fun. If I don’t get to the top now, I never will!

SUO: Then don’t. You already know you don’t have to be at the top to belong here, Sakura-san.

SAKURA: I have to!

SUO: And why’s that?

SAKURA: Because if I don’t,  that means all the damage I got isn’t good damage. It’s just damage. I’ve gotten nothing out of it, and all those damn years I was miserable were for nothing.

I could’ve just—what? Been happy? Made friends? Smiled more? Had a damn family? You saying that’s how it should’ve been? That I was just being an idiot this whole time?! What was it all for, then?!

SUO: I… I don’t know, Sakura-san. But what I do know is that what you have now—this place, these people, this moment—I like it. I like thinking my friend is happy and content and for once not carrying a load on their shoulders.

SAKURA: ���Tch. That’s stupid.

SUO: Perhaps. But you’re still listening.

SAKURA: …When I was a kid, I thought all the abuse and neglect- it somehow made me special. That if I just kept pushing forward, if I just endured, one day I’d do something that would make kids like me feel less alone.

[bumbling-jester]

man i might actually need a cane or something

[luriart]

I read "The Disabled Tyrant's Beloved Pet Fish" and I had to get these out of my system

[itissadbutitsmy-artblog]

my really stupid theory that isnt really real but is kinda real isthat this design choice . with the round face inside the head. is like. a evolutionary thing. to look like finn

sorry for only having wizards. i think it happens outside of wizard city too but at least we know wizard city isnt just full of real humans in human hats

like if you look like the A) most desirable man in ooo and B) the most feared predator in ooo you're gonna survive and you're gonna get alllllll the ladies. and all your kids are gonna start looking like him

i mean the humans are also coming back to ooo and they wear clothes that do this, maybe their fashion trends are spreading, the clothes that were very distantly and originally Anti-Vampire Hats. but not all of these guys are wearing clothes that do the head inside the hat thing, some of their heads just look like that

[shikai-the-storyteller]

There are SO many cool interactions and lore things we can look forward to now that Rubius says he'll come back to QSMP (not only as an angel / demon, but potentially as a human too!), but that little detail reminded me of something:

Even though q!Vegetta and q!Rubius were mutually interested in each other wayyyy back in the beginning of the series, as an Angel / Demon, Rubius said he can't have relationships with humans because it's against the rules.

But a bit ago on stream, Rubius said that he's thinking about having a "human" side so he can build and do more things on the server as a regular player. I'm excited because this means he can have more casual interactions with people and we can see him interacting with his friends more (and he can experience The Horrors), but also...

I think we're in for some very interesting drama in the next few weeks.*

* ( Assuming Rubius doesn't get harassed off the server by toxic shippers and weird fans of the Eggs again. Please be nice to Rubius and welcome him back kindly, he's a very cool guy and his character is SO interesting )

[deus-ex-mona]

farewell, my idiot son…

[miyasann]

i'm late to the party but i cried 5 times watching the dumpster battle

[handsomethrowrug]

OOC

[lateseptemberdawn]

No but like. Men could be the lowest of the low, not be knowing the most basic shit, inept at wit or anything else pertaining to the brain or mind or conscious, and yet the audacity be there. Like. How.