#Um- I finished this late last night so if there’s any mistakes ignore it

[bloos-bloo]

Eueueueu- I’m so normal about ToyBox hellooo-

You cannot tell me that this song doesn’t fit the vibe ToyBox has- Little lore dump under the cut cause yeah <3 I’m so normal

This is basically what the bishops go through on daily basis- Having to entertain a lot of people who have no clue they’re being held there against their will. People who don’t question why the Mime’s mouth is sewed shut, why the juggler has his eyes in his hands, why the Aerialist always seems to cry after their sets, why the storyteller goes off script.

There’s no question about it. And it makes the bishops grow restless, they get agitated- they feel hurt. Their loved ones aren’t coming for them. They’re stuck working under someone who only wanted their brother all to herself. How cruel, how selfish.

They have to play a role in order to live, how much longer can they withstand it?

[lee-laurent]

T'es ben chix - Luke Hughes

Summary: Amélie decides Luke Hughes is the cutest boy she's ever seen, but she doesn't know how to tell him.

wc: 7k

content: fluff, a little bit of angst, kissing, panic attacks, anxiety, quick make out session, a couple dirty jokes, long distance relationship (let me know if missed anything!)

notes: don't let the title fool you, this fic is still in english!! i realized the other day while doing schoolwork that i don't have a fic that discusses being french-canadian. so... here we are! this fic was super fun for me to write and i incorporated experiences and challenges i have faced over the last few years. a lot of the mistakes that amélie makes are mistakes that i have made or that other french speakers make when speaking english bc sometimes we try to directly translate things and it just does not work lol i reallly hope you guys enjoy!!! and to any other francophones out there: let's be friends!!

just finished writing and it's about 5k words more than i was planning

Amélie honestly wasn't the biggest fan of going out back home, so going out in a place where she could barely speak the language was even worse. But a few of the girls she'd befriended had convinced her it was a good way to get to know more people and to let loose. She sat with the three other girls at a small table, her fingers drumming against the glass of her cocktail.

"Yeah, what did you think of that guy that presented today, Am?"

"Hm? He did... good."

"No, silly. Did you think he was cute?"

"Oh, um, he's... how do you say... not my type?"

"Not your type? Then what is your type, Am?"

"Probably that guy she's been making googly eyes at all night," one of the others teased.

"Who? The tall, curly haired guy in the corner?"

Amélie blushed, sipping at the alcohol for courage.

"Ooo, she's totally into him!"

"You should go talk to him, Am!"

"No... I tell you... no American boys," she waved them off.

"Well, that's too bad. Cause it looks like he's comin' over here. We'll be at the bar if you need us."

"Guys..."

But it was too late, the other girls were already up and headed towards the bar.

"Calisse," she mumbled, trying to ignore the tall figure approaching her table.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked. She looked up at him, her lips pursed. He had the same curly hair and boyish smile that her friends had been teasing her about. She really hadn't planned on talking to anyone tonight, let alone any boys. The girls knew her rule: no falling for any boys while she was in America.

"Uh... sure," she replied, gesturing to the empty chairs across from her.

He smiled, sitting down casually, rubbing his palms on his pants. "I'm Luke. I, uh, I thought I'd come introduce myslef since we, uh, made eye contact so many times."

Amélie bit her lip, nodding as he spoke. She barely knew enough English to follow what her friends were saying, and now she had to talk to some random guy at this bar she didn't even want to be at. "I, uh, I am Amélie."

"Amélie? That's a really pretty name. Did I, uh, did I say it right? Amélie?"

Her cheeks flushed, her eyes flickering down to her drink. "Yeah... that is right. Thank you." Her fingers tightened around the glass, trying to think of something to say next, but everything just came in French.

Luke could sense her hesitation, suddenly becoming way more nervous about coming over. Maybe it had been stupid. Maybe he was making her feel uncomfortable. "I just thought... I don't know. You seemed nice. Do you, uh, want to talk, or...?"

She met his gaze, taking a deep breath. He was trying and he seemed nice, like he really wanted to talk to her. "I... my English, it is not very good," her accent thickening as she spoke. "It is... hard for me."

Luke nodded, leaning forward slightly. He had teammates that didn't speak English as their first language, so he kind of knew what to expect. "That's fine. I'm sure it's better than my French. That is your first language, right? French? Sorry, I just assumed cause your name-"

"Yes, French," she cut him off, giggling at his rambling.

"I can barely say anything in French, so you've already got me beat."

His attempt to make her feel better worked... a little. "It is easier... to write. But speaking... more pressure, I forget the words lots."

"I get that. But we can just... talk slowly."

She sipped at her drink, waiting for him to continue.

"So, what brings you to Jersey? Not a lot of French people here."

"Exchange... at Rutgers. I am from Québec. Saguenay. But I come here... and I work on my English."

"That's super cool. It's awesome that you're pushing yourself to get better. I, uh, I went to Umich for a bit, but-"

"Umich?"

"Oh, right. University of Michigan. I lived in Michigan before I lived here."

"You move here because..."

"For hockey. I play hockey."

"Oh... that's cool. I like Les Canadiens. You play in the LNH?"

"The NHL? Yeah, I do. You like hockey?"

"Everyone in Québec likes hockey. Very popular."

"But you didn't know who I was," Luke teased.

"Only like Les Canadiens, sorry," she shrugged.

"Well, that's fair, I guess. The Habs are pretty big in Québec, huh?"

"Yes! My family... all big fan." She felt comfortable talking about her family, talking about home, the things she liked. Her dad watched every Habs game on TV and sometimes he'd even drive down to Montréal for a weekend to see them play.

"My family loves hockey too. Everyone plays. My mom, my dad, me, and both my brothers. It's like in our blood... or something."

"They play for... the same team?"

"One of them does. Jack, he plays with me. My other brother, Quinn, he plays in Vancouver," Luke tried to keep it casual, not wanting it to seem like he was bragging.

"Ah! The Canucks!"

"See, you know a bit about other teams," he teased.

"Shhh," she giggled. "Your family... they seem very... what's the word... talented."

"Guess you could say that."

She took another sip of her drink, her mind buzzing with questions to ask, but none of them coming to her in English. She wanted to ask more about his brothers, about how he started playing hockey, but her mouth just couldn't keep up with her brain. She also didn't want to come off as rude or obsessed with him because of his title, so she just nodded.

"You don't have to worry, you know. I'm not judging you," Luke comforted. "So, what do you do when you're learning English or watching the Habs? You got any other hobbies?"

"I like to... read. And bake... when I have time."

"Reading and baking," Luke mused. "What do you bake?"

"Everything," she giggled. "Tarte au sucre is my preferred. My mom... she always bakes with me."

"Tarte au sucre? What's that? Sugar pie?" Luke's eyes lit up. "You'll have to make me that one day. I've never had it."

"Maybe. You will have to see."

"Challenge accepted."

Amélie went to respond, but her phone buzzing stopped her. It was her friends calling, probably ready to head on to another bar. She didn't want her conversation with Luke to end, but she knew she couldn't stay there all night.

"I have to go. My friends... waiting," she sighed.

Luke's face fell a little but he nodded. "Yeah, I get it. But I, uh, this was fun."

"Me too."

There was silence for a little, neither of them wanting to be the first to say goodbye. "You should give me... your phone number. So you can try my tarte au sucre."

"Sounds like a plan," Luke said, handing his phone over for her. She typed in her name and phone number, adding a '<3' next to Amélie.

"Text me," she giggled, waving goodbye as she joined the other girls at the bar. Luke watched as the four of them started talking amongst themselves quickly, giggling as Amélie told them about her conversation with the hockey player.

He finally stood up, making his way back over to the table where his teammates were sat. Curtis raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk plastered on his face.

"Well, how'd it go, Romeo?" He leaned forward, failing to conceal his grin.

Luke rolled his eyes, "Good, actually. Really good."

Nico raised his pint, "Told you. You just had to go for it."

"So... what's next?" Curtis nudged him. "You ask for her number?"

Luke nodded, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, we'll probably meet up again."

"Probably?"

"Okay, fine. Yeah, we'll see each other again. I'm going to try her sugar pie she was talking about."

"Sugar pie? Is that what we're calling it nowadays?" Nico teased, causing the whole table to erupt in laughter.

Luke shook his head, letting the teasing slide. His mind was too focused on the girl with a French accent and promises of baking him pie. He had to see her again.

~~

Luke found texting Amélie way easier than he'd imagined. She wasn't lying when she said her writing was better than her speaking. Her texts barely ever had mistakes, in fact sometimes they were worded better than his.

They texted back and forth constantly, which earned Luke some teasing from his colleagues. In writing, Amélie was much more confident, returning his flirting with practiced ease. Her personality really shone through in a way it hadn't at the bar. She'd occasionally crack jokes, usually about how he didn't know any French and that she'd have to teach him. Their conversations flowed, talking about their days, sharing stories, discussing the schoolwork that Amélie had, and sometimes sharing pictures of their meals. Although Jack did most of Luke's cooking, he'd never admit that to the girl.

You have to come and try my tarte au sucre soon! Only if you're brave enough though ;)

Luke grinned at his phone, his fingers furiously typing back a reply.

Oh, I'm brave enough. Just let me know when, and I'll be there.

I will. Maybe next week? I need to make sure it's perfect first.

Deal.

~~

Amélie paced her apartment, making sure that everything was in order before Luke came over. She was even more nervous than she had been in the bar. She really wanted things to go well. They had decided to label the event as their first date, and although a bit informal, she was still shitting herself.

The pie was sitting on her kitchen island, untouched. She didn't want to eat any of it until Luke was there to eat it with her. She was worried he'd get in trouble because it wasn't part of his meal plan for work, but he had reassured it multiple times that it wasn't a big deal if he had a little pie.

Just as she was about to rearrange her throw pillows for the third time, there was a knock at her door. She froze mid-step, wiping her hands on her jeans as she made her way to the door.

It was just a pie. And it was just Luke. Nothing to be too worried about.

She hesitated for a moment before she pulled the door open, tilting her head back to look up at Luke. He was standing there in a Devils hoodie and some track pants, a baseball cap covering his curls. He looked relaxed, his hands tucked in the pocket of his hoodie. Amélie hated how nonchalant he looked in comparison to her.

"Hey," he greeted. "I brough my appetite, as promised."

"Good. I hope you are ready," she joked, stepping out of the way to let him in. He pulled off his shoes, taking in her cozy apartment. He laughed when his eyes landed on the big Québec flag hung behind her couch.

"I'm sure it'll be amazing. I'm looking forward to it, don't worry."

She nodded, though her nerves didn't disappear. She led him into the kitchen where the pie sat waiting. The smell of it filled the small space, warm and sweet.

"Wow, looks good, Am. Guess you weren't kidding about being a good baker."

"It's like you with hockey. My talent," she giggled, blushing as their eyes met.

"I don't know. Your baking skills may be miles ahead of my hockey skills."

"Don't lie. Let's see if it tastes as good as the smell," she grabbed a knife, finally cutting the pie into pieces. She placed a generous slice in front of Luke, taking in how comfortable he looked in the situation. She really admired how easygoing he was compared to her. It was their first date, but his demeanor made it seem like they'd been seeing each other for months. Meanwhile, her heart hadn't stopped racing since she opened the door minutes before.

Luke picked up his fork, flashing her a grin before taking his first bite. His eyes widened and he let out a pleased hum, "Holy shit, this is so good."

"You like it?"

"Are you kidding? This is like the best dessert I've ever had... don't tell my mom I said that. But really, Amélie, you've ruined all other pies for me. Can I take some home to show Jack?"

"Of course! I'm glad you like it. Is my mom's recipe."

"You should probably teach me how to make this, so I don't have to beg you every time I want some."

"I wouldn't mind," she giggled, taking a bite of her own slice. The taste reminded her of home and she suddenly felt a lot less nervous about messing up her English in front of Luke. They continued to eat their pie as they talked, shifting the conversation to more personal topics, wanting to know everything about each other.

Luke told stories about growing up with his brothers, sharing embarrassing moments from their childhoods and the occasional hockey-related mishap. Amélie found herself laughing more than she had since she'd arrived in America, her body filling with warmth.

"And that's how Jack ended up chipping his tooth. Our mom was furious, but Quinn and I thought it was hilarious," Luke explained, shaking his head at the memory.

She laughed, her shoulders shaking. "You and your brother... troublemakers," she teased, resting her chin on her hand as she listened to him talk. God, she could listen to Luke talk for hours. His accent was the cutest thing she'd ever heard and his smile curved up more on one side than the other, almost like a smirk. He was so perfect.

"Yeah, we were. Still are, I guess. But what about you? You got any fun stories about your family?"

"One time my dad, he take us to Montréal for a Habs game. And my older brother he had... he liked one girl he saw. But she was anglophone, no French. He goes up to her and he tries to talk English. But it was soooo bad. Even worse than me. He only knew maybe like three word. I think he said like 'Hey, you pretty, drink?' and she looked at him like he was... insane! He... he panicked and ran away. We bullied him for years after. Our dad, he will still talk about it at dinner sometime."

"That's brutal," Luke laughed. "Glad our first conversation didn't go like that."

"I am just better than him."

Luke shook his head, flashing his lopsided smile that made Amélie swoon. "Clearly. You've got the charm, no doubt about it."

"Maybe a little. But still I get nervous. When you arrive, I think maybe that I would die."

"You hid it well. I didn't even notice. I was the nervous one."

"You? Nervous?" she raised an eyebrow, placing her fork between her lips .

"Yeah, you were... well you are, like the prettiest girl I've ever met," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Didn't want to mess it up."

"Is that a joke? You did not... mess up. I like talking with you."

"I like talking with you too, Amélie"

~~

It was their fourth date and they were back at Amélie's apartment. Luke was sprawled out on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table as he playfully scrolled through one of Amélie's French-to-English learning apps.

"Come on, give me a word," Luke teased, turning to look at the girl sitting beside him with her legs tucked under her.

"Alright. Alright. Um... try... 'papillon.'"

Luke squinted, trying his hardest to translate it. "Papillon," he reapted slowly. "Uh... sounds like pasta, maybe? Wait, no, wait... um, balloon?"

She let a burst of laughter, learning back against the arm of the couch. "Non! It's butterfly!"

He groaned dramatically, throwing his head back in mock anguish. "Butterfly?! That doesn't even sound like butterfly! What?!"

"You are needing more practice," she giggled, comfortly placing a hand on his thigh.

Luke's eyes widened at her touch, but he couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, clearly I need a lot more practice. You might have to become my full-time tutor."

Amélie smiled, her fingers lingering on his thigh, sending a warmth through both of them. They'd been spending more and more time together, and things were less awkward, but still full of nervousness. The banter between them was easy, but there was an ever-growing tension gnawing at them both.

Luke reached for a throw pillow next to him, lightly tossing it at her. "Give me another one. I swear I'll get it this time."

She swatted the pillow away, but her focus had moved on from French. The space between them had slowly been shrinking and she had just noticed how close they were. She tilted her head, her eyes flickering up to meet Luke's. "I think... maybe you are better at other things than French."

Luke's grin faltered, his breath catching in his throat at her new tone. He glanced down at her hand still resting on his thigh, then back at her face, then back to her hand again. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Like... this."

Before he could question what she meant, she leaned in, her lips brushing his, testing the waters. The kiss was soft, hesitant, but the second their lips connected, everything they'd been holding back snapped into place.

Luke's hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss deepened quickly, no longer hesitant, but instead filled with the feelings they'd been dancing around for weeks. Amélie sighed against his mouth, her hands sliding up to his chest, gripping his shirt in his fists. Luke groaned softly, the sound muffled by her lips.

Their kisses turned hungrier, more urgent, as the tension in the room built. Luke shifted, gently pushing Amélie back against the couch as he leaned over her, his body pressing against hers as their kisses grew sloppier. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and Luke's hands slid up to cradle her face, his thumb brushing her cheek as the kiss deepened.

Neither of them wanted to pull away, not wanting to be the first to end the kiss. Luke realized he couldn't hold his breath any longer. He gasped for air before kissing her again, harder this time, his lips moving with more urgency than before. Amélie let out a soft, breathless moan in reponse.

They pulled away again, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to catch their breath. Luke brushed a strand of her hair, that had gotten stuck between them, out of her face. His eyes were still half-closed as he whispered, "I've wanted to kiss you for so long."

Amélie smiled, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to fill her lungs with air. She looked up at him, her lips still tingling. "Me too. I... I did not expect it to feel... like that."

"Good or bad?"

"Good," she whispered, her fingers tracing the back of his neck before pulling him in again, her lips finding his once more. There was no hesitation this time, just unfiltered desire as they gave in to the kiss.

~~

"Where you goin'?" Jack asked, pausing his video game as he heard Luke head for the door. He turned around, noticing his brother wearing his Michigan backpack. "And why do you have a backpack?"

"Amélie's place. I'm spending the night."

"Damn, Lukey boy's finally getting laid."

"Shut up, Jack... there's no confirmation that that's what happening. She just asked if I wanted to sleep over."

Jack smirked, leaning back on the couch with a knowing look. "Uh-huh, sure. You don't pack a bag just to sleep over, bro."

Luke rolled his eyes, adjusting the straps of his bag. "It's not like that. We're just hanging out, maybe watching a movie or something."

Jack snorted. "Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, lover boy. But just in case, be safe."

"It's not like that," Luke groaned, grabbing his keys off the counter, trying to escape Jack's teasing.

"I'm just saying! Good luck, bud!"

Luke mumbled to himself as he stepped into the hallway, heading for the elevator to the parking garage. His heart was racing more than usual, not just because of Jack's teasing but because tonight did feel different. Spending a night together was a big step in their relationship, especially since they weren't officially official yet.

They hadn't even discussed labels yet, and although they were very close, there was an unspoken worry of figuring out where things were heading. Luke really, really liked her, but he didn't want to rush anything. If Amélie wanted to take things slow, then he would take things slow.

He sat in his car, getting ready to leave when his phone buzzed.

Just picked out a movie. Hope you like rom-coms ;)

Only if we watch it in French so I can practice

Deal.

When he pulled up to her building, he practically leaped out of the car, taking his backpack with him. He knocked on her door, his heart in his throat.

Just go with the flow. No pressure

Amélie giggled when she opened the front door, dressed in one of Luke's Devils hoodies and a pair of shorts he couldn't see from under the large sweatshirt.

"Hey. You look cute," he leaned down to kiss her.

"Hey! Missed you."

"It's only been three days," he laughed, allowing her to wrap her arms around his waist, propping her chin on his chest. "You ready for my horrible French?"

"Ready for anything," she giggled as he ran a hand through her hair.

They stood in the doorway for a few moments more, before she grasped his hand and pulled him into the living room. They settled on the couch, a blanket thrown over their entwined legs.

"Am, I've been thinking..." his thumb brushing lightly against her thigh. "I don't want to overthink it anymore than I already have, but... we've been spending lots of time together. And I really like you."

"I like you too, Luke. A lot."

"Good. Because... I want this to be official. I mean, us. I want us to be official. I don't wanna be just 'hanging out' or 'seeing where things go' anymore. I want you to be my girlfriend." His voice softened at the end, his heart out on a silver platter just for her.

"You really want that?" she gushed.

Luke nodded, "Yeah. I want you. I want... us."

"I want that too," she smiled, shuffling impossibly closer to him, pecking his lips.

Luke pulled her back in for a deeper kiss, relief flooding his body. When they pulled apart, Amélie rested her forehead against his, her fingers gripping the front of his hoodie.

"So, it is official?" she whispered.

"Officially official. You're my girlfriend now."

She kissed him again, laughing into his mouth. "Well... now that we have... figured that out. You have French to practice... boyfriend."

"Let's get started then, girlfriend."

~~

"So... when do I get to meet her?" Jack grinned, knocking Luke's shoulder.

"Oh, um, I can ask her."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "You can ask her?" he teased. "What, you haven't mentioned me?"

Luke sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I have, Jack. I just... didn't think you'd be so excited."

"Dude, of course I'm excited! My little brother has a girlfriend now! And you know I've gotta approve, see if she's good for you. Duh."

"She's not a test subject, Jack. I'm not bringing her so you can interrogate her."

Jack snickered, loving how flustered his brother was getting. "Relax, I'll be nice. In fact, bring her out with us and the guys this weekend. Some of the other girlfriends will be there."

"I can ask her. Just... don't be weird about it. She get's nervous."

"Me? Weird about it? Never. I'm charming."

"That's what I'm worried about."

"Come on, it'll be fun. She'll get to meet everyone, and you know the guys will love her. Plus, if she can survive a night out with us, she's a keeper."

"Look, I'll ask. But I know she's been busy with schoolwork. I'll ask her tonight. But seriously, Jack, don't freak her out. Please."

"Scout's honour, man. I'll be on my best behaviour."

"You're not a-- never mind. I'll let you know what she says."

~~

Luke laid next to Amélie in her bed, his arm draped over her waist. She was scrolling through TikTok, laughing at French words he didn't know yet. He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, peeking at the screen where some girl was speaking rapid French while doing her make up.

"Hey, Am."

"Hmm?"

"So... Jack and some of the guys are going out this weekend, and a few of the girlfriends will be there too," he paused, thinking over his next words. "Jack was, uh, wondering when he could meet you. He kind of suggested you come along."

She blinked, "Meet... all of your friends? This weekend?"

"No pressure! If you're too busy with school, I totally get it. I just thought it might be fun. Only if you want to, of course," Luke quickly added.

She bit her lip, thinking it over, and Luke could tell she was weighing her options. "I'm nervous. I would... like to meet Jack. To be... part of your world."

He pulled her body closer to his, pressing more kisses to her shoulder. "You're already part of my world, Am. And trust me, Jack's been bugging me about meeting you since our first date. He's... well, he's Jack. But he means well."

"Okay. I will come. But if Jack, he makes me feel awkward, you owe me a very good dinner."

Luke laughed, "Deal. And don't worry, I'll be there the whole time. Plus, survivng Jack means you can survive anything."

~~

"C'est très cute, non?" Amélie asked, showing her outfit off to Luke.

"You look like a millon bucks, baby," he replied, leaning down to kiss her.

"What?"

"It's... it's a saying."

She tilted her head slightly, repeating the words back to herself. "A million... bucks."

Luke thought her accent made it all the more adorable. "It means you look beautiful. Like super, super beautiful."

"English says, they are so strange. First you tell me it rains cats and dogs... now I look like I am money. You explain me all of these sometimes, yes?"

"Of course, baby. But I mean it, you looks amazing."

"Thanks, Lu. We should go?"

"If we have to," Luke pouted, leaning down to give her another kiss.

~~

Amélie gripped the straps of her purse so tightly that her knuckles were white. She had never felt so nervous in her life, not even on their first date. She had so many people to impress tonight and probably less than half the words they had in their vocabularies.

Luke was quick to notice her anxiety. She usually walked with so much confidence, but her posture was slumped and her lip was held between her teeth. "Hey, you okay?"

She nodded, but her choked voice betrayed her. "I... I don't know if I can do this."

"You'll be fine, Am," he whispered, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "Jack's going to love you, I can promise you that. And it's just a few of the guys--nothing big. And hey, some of them aren't even native English speakers themselves."

Her eyes were still full of uncertainty, her fingers busying themselves by picking at the skin around her nails. "But maybe I will say something wrong. Or they ask me things, and I do not understand them? Or they will all laugh at me."

"You've been doing so well with your English, love. And if you're ever feeling stuck, just squeeze my hand and I'll come to your rescue."

The bar was pretty empty for the most part, just a few tables of friends talking and sharing drinks. In the back corner, Jack was sitting with a few of the other guys and their better halves.

"There they are!" Jack cheered as soon as he saw them approaching, standing up to greet his brother as if he hadn't seen him in weeks. His tone was loud and confident, and Amélie could feel every set of eyes at the table move towards her and Luke.

Luke gave his brother a quick bro-hug before turning to his girlfriend. "Jack, this is Amélie. Am, this is my brother, Jack."

Amélie felt like all the moisture in her mouth had disappeared, her hand gripping Luke's with a vice-like strength. She opened her mouth to speak, but all her words got stuck. "I, uh, I... hi."

"Nice to meet you, Amélie," Jack said. "Luke's told me loads about you."

She gave him a tight lipped smile, her mind scrambling to find a response, but nothing came. She felt like the weight of everyone's expectations were holding her down. She wanted to wow everyone with perfect English, but all she could do was stand there, frozen.

"She, uh, she's a little nervous," Luke interjected. "Amélie's from Québec, she's here in Jersey to learn English. But her French is like the most impressive shit ever."

"No worries. We're just happy you're here," Nico spoke up.

Amélie forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. She sat down beside Luke, her hand still gripping his with immense force. The conversation around the table picked back up, but she remained quiet.

The guys were easygoing, laughing and joking with each other, and the other girlfriends seemed just as relaxed. The more they spoke though, the harder it became for her to follow. She could pick up on bits and pieces of what was going on, but she couldn't seem to form a complete sentence in her head.

"So, how do you like Jersey so far?" one of the other girlfriends, Lexi, asked with a warm smile.

"It... it's very different. But I... I like it," she replied, her eyes not leaving Luke's hand in her lap.

"She thinks back home is wayyyy prettier. Right, babe?" Luke helped to direct her.

"Yes. Québec is very beautiful."

"So what brought you here?" Jack asked, desperately wanting to know more about the girl that had stolen his brother's heart. "School?"

She bit her lip, trying her best to think of how to reply in English. "Yes... I.... study at Rutgers. Exchange."

"That's awesome. What're you studying?"

Her mind went completely blank. She'd even rehearsed answering that exact question, but now, with everyone looking at her, the words were gone. Her hand tightened around Luke's again, taking a sip of water to clear her throat.

"She's studying communications and media. But the point of her exchange is to work on her English skills."

"That's sick," Jack nodded along.

The conversation around her continued, a few questions being tossed her way but her responses were usually just a few words, the gaps being filled in by Luke. The group eventually moved on to a story that Nico was telling, and Amélie used the shift of attention to shrink into herself further. She let Luke rest his hand on her bouncing knee in an attempt to calm her nerves, but his touch felt foreign in the situation.

After what felt like hours, but had most likely only been half an hour, she leaned close to Luke, whispering in his ear. "Je vais aux toilettes." She stood up before he could respond, scurrying off to the bathroom.

Jack shot Luke a curious glance, but he just shrugged, trying to mask his own worry.

Amélie slipped into the bathroom, pressing her hands against the sink as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She felt like she was suffocating, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She hated feeling like an outsider, not being able to connect with Luke's world outside of her.

She wiped under her eyes, praying that her mascara didn't run. She didn't want anyone to know she'd been crying in the bathroom. She just wanted to be like the other girls at the table--relaxed and confident, going with the flow of the conversation.

With one last deep breath, she made her way back to the table. Luke looked up at her as she approached. He could tell something was off.

"Everything okay?"

She just nodded, falling back into her silence at the table. She laughed when everyone else laughed, smiling politely when someone made a remark towards her. Luke had never seen her so quiet in his life, not even on the first day that they met. By the time everyone had left the bar, her anxiety was so bad she thought she might puke.

Luke opened the car door for her, and she slid in, staring blankly out the window. The silence between them was heavy. Luke could feel it too, his fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel.

"Am, what's wrong? You've been quiet all night. You barely said a thing."

The tears that she had been fighting so hard to keep at bay finally spilled out. "I... I feel so stupid. I-I couldn't even talk to them. I couldn't even... act normal."

He reached out, placing a hand on her thigh. His heart clenched at her words. "You're not stupid, Am. You're doing amazing. You're learning a whole new language, that's huge."

"But I had to have you help on everything. I could... not even answer Jack's questions. They normally think... I'm dumb. Not good for you." She wiped at her eyes, frustrated with herself for crying.

"Amélie, baby. No one thinks you're dumb. And you are more than good enough for me--don't you ever doubt that. Jack loved meeting you. Everyone did. I could tell. They don't care if you need some help speaking English. Hell, some of those guys could use the help speaking English."

"I wanted... to be better. To show I can do this. But I feel...lost."

"You don't have to show anyone that you can do anything. Not to me, not to Jack, not to anyone. I love you for--"

"You love me?"

"Of course I do, Am. I... I didn't want to admit it like this. But... I am so in love with you, Amélie."

"I love you too, Luke. Sorry if I... embarrass you tonight."

"You could never embarrass me, Am. Never ever."

"I-"

"Nope, that's enough out of you. Let's go back to yours and watch that stupid cop show you like."

"Mensonges?"

"If that's what it's called, then yes."

"I love you, Lu."

"I love you too, Am."

~~

"I don't know, Jack. She was so nervous last time..."

"But last time there were other people there too. Just tell her you've got the place to yourself for the night and then I'll walk in a couple hours later and be like 'Oh! Sorry, my plans got cancelled.' And then we can all hangout," Jack suggested.

"I'm not going to lie to her. I'll just ask if she wants to spend the night."

"Come on, Rusty! You know I'm just trying to help her relax around me. You're making it sound like a big deal. It's not! She's your girlfriend, and I want to get to know her. Plus, I'll make it fun! I'm good with people."

"I appreciate the thought, Jack. But I want her to feel comfortable, not tricked. So I'll just ask her if she wants to come over and spend the night. No tricks."

"Fine, fine. Let me know what she says."

"I will. Just... don't be an idiot."

~~

Amélie followed Luke into his apartment, her backpack thrown over his shoulder. She looked around, noticing how painfully obvious it was that two men lived there.

"I'm just gonna put your bag in my room. You wanna go make yourself comfortable on the couch?"

"Sure."

She sat down, curling her legs under herself, glancing around the living room. She picked up the remote off the coffee table, fiddling with while she waited for Luke.

"You good?"

"Yeah. Just... taking in. It is very... you."

"What, you mean messy?"

She giggled, then tension in her shoulders disappearing. "Maybe... un peu."

"Hey, it's organized chaos, baby. I know where everything is. Well... most of the time."

"I like it. Feels... comfortable. Like you."

"That's all I want, babe. For you to be comfortable."

"Where's Jack?"

"Probably in his room. Why? Wanna talk with him?"

Amélie quickly shook her head, her eyes widening. "No, no... just wonder. I don't want to... bother him."

"You're not bothering him. He's probably playing video games or doing some stupid shit. He'll come out here eventually."

The last time she'd been around Jack, she hadn't been able to shake her nerves. Tonight, she was determined to make a better impression, even if she still felt like puking.

Luke gently nudged her with his elbow. "Hey, you're good, Am. Jack's chill. You don't have to be nervous."

"I know... just... want him to like me."

"He already likes you," Luke reassured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "He wouldn't shut up about how cool you were after the last time."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I wouldn't lie to you, silly."

"Love you, Lu."

"Love you too," he leaned in to kiss her when footsteps pulled them apart.

"Aww, did I interrupt a moment?" Jack's teasing voice came from the doorway.

"Relax, Jack. We were just talking... about you."

"Oh yeah?" Jack pushed himself off the wall, making his way to the couch. "All good things, I hope."

"Duh," Luke squeezed Amélie's hand, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder. "Amélie was just asking what you were up to."

"Probably nothing interesting compared to you lovebirds. Was talking to Trevor--can't let Luke get ahead of me in the whole having a life department."

She tried to think of a quick response to his joke, but came up with nothing she deemed funny enough.

"Luke tells me you like studying here cause it's different. How so?"

"Um, everything... is feeling bigger here. The city, the campus. And obviously... English. There is like... zero English in my town. We use some words... but not lots."

"Well, seems like you're doing great. Don't stress it. Plus you've got this guy," he gestured to Luke, "to help you out, right?"

She blushed, "Yes, Lu is... super."

Luke grinned, leaning in and whispering, "Told you he likes you."

~~

"I don't know how I'm gonna survive without you, Am," Luke admitted, wiping the tears from his face. His usually calm, relaxed demeanor was gone, replaced with a raw vulnerability.

Amélie had told herself she wasn't going to cry, but seeing Luke cry made that impossible. Her tears had started as soon as his had. "You will, Lu. You are so strong. And... I will not be gone forever."

He shook his head, intertwining their fingers. "I know, but... shit's gonna feel so different without you here. I'm used to having you here all the time. And now I won't see you until summer. I don't know how to do that."

"You'll have Jack, the guys, your family. I'm just... a plane away. We will FaceTime, and before you know... I am back. And I will meet Quinn... and your parents."

Luke rested his head in her lap, letting her run her fingers through his hair. She could feel his tears soaking the fabric of her jeans. "I'm gonna miss you so fucking much, Am."

"I'll miss you too, Lu. So, so much."

They stayed like that for a long time, just wrapped in each other's embraces. Neither of them wanted to let go. Neither of them wanted to admit how hard the next few months would be. They just wanted to stay together... forever.

~~

Amélie was sitting at her desk, her phone propped up against her water bottle as Luke's face filled the screen. His hair was a mess and his eyes drooping. She could tell he had just gotten home from practice.

"Hey, beautiful," he greeted.

"Hey, you," she replied, resting her chin on her hand. "How was practice?"

"Exhausting," he groaned. "But seeing your face makes it better."

Amélie blushed, biting her lip as she smiled. Before she could respond, she heard her brothers' voices coming from down the hall.

"Ah, c'est qui, Amélie?" (who is it, Amélie?)

"Son chum?" the other laughed. (her boyfriend?)

"Ahhh, mais Luke, t'es ben chix." (Ahhh, but Luke, you're so hot.)

"Ferme ta gueule!" Amélie shouted. (Shut your mouth!)

Luke burst out laughing at the look on his girlfriend's face. "What're they saying?"

She huffed, rolling her eyes. "They're being idiots. Teasing me about you."

"Teasing, huh?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "What did they say? Come on, tell me."

She sighed, getting closer to the camera with a small smirk. "They said you're... how would that translate.... that you're 'hot.'"

"Oh, did they know? You must have good pictures of me hanging up then, huh?"

"They're just being annoying. They think it's funny to tease me because I love an American."

"Well, tell them I appreciate the compliment. And tell them I say 'hi'," he teased.

Amélie shook her head but shouted, "Luke dit bonjour!"

From the hallway, her brothers responded with exaggerated greetings in their broken English, making the couple laugh.

"They're something else, huh? I can't wait to meet them one day."

"They'll probably want you to ask Cole for free Habs tickets. But... in a few weeks, I'll be back and I'll get to meet all of your family."

Luke's eye lit up at the thought. "I know! I've been counting down the days, baby. I can't wait for you to be here again!"

"Me neither. Excited to meet Quinn and your parents."

"Yeah, my mom's super excited to meet you!"

"I'm a little nervous though."

"Don't be! They are gonna love you so much, Am!"

"I love you, Lu."

"I love you more, Amélie. Only a few more weeks, then we'll be together again. I can't wait."

"You promise?"

"I promise. And I'm gonna spoil you so much. Just you, me, and the lake."

"Can't wait."

[smolkiwi98]

I'm so soft for Steve watching out for his girl, loved that story about him being a caregiver. Could you write something about him in a relationship like the onefrom your imagine with Eddie munson and non sexual domination? The one with rules and consequences and all but just to help the girlfriend work on things she wants to improve and because she thinks having structure like this is helpful and asks for a relationship like this, things like if she struggles sleeping at reasonable hours, she has a bed time for example. If you think it's repetitive because you wrote something like that for another character it's alright, feel free to just ignore it

Thank you! I'm happy you enjoyed it! I apologize if this isn't as good, it's late and I'm kinda tired lol. But I hope you enjoy!

WARNING!! Mentions of spanking (one time if you squint), mentions of a dom/sub Dynamic, um not proofread, I think that's it.

masterlist

make a request here!

Saying you’re a night owl is an understatement. For some reason you loved the night and there’s nothing wrong with that, but sometimes it just gets bad. It gets to the point where you’ll stay up a whole night, stay up all day, and not go to bed until later that night around two or three in the morning. When you started to date Steve he didn’t know about this. He just thought you liked staying up late to talk with him sometimes, but he didn’t know you would stay up all night and watch movies when he fell asleep. It surprised you how long it took him to notice this. He just thought you went to bed with him and woke up before him.

Steve started to notice this little routine when you moved in with him. That’s when he sat you down and discussed a solution, “Okay, I know we do some dom/sub things in the bedroom, but I think it would be a good idea to bring into our normal everyday life.” The words that just left his mouth shocked you. He wanted to bring that dynamic outside the bedroom? A blush made its way across your face and you fumbled with your fingers “So…so you mean like…” You started feeling shy. Steve looked at you confused at first and then quickly shook his head “No, Baby. What I mean is to bring some rules into our everyday lives. Maybe that way you’ll get your sleep and eat properly.” He explained. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, “I thought you meant something completely different.” You said with a small chuckle.

~ A Month Later ~

It’s been exactly one month since you’ve brought the rules into play and it’s honestly changed you a lot…in a good way of course. You were getting proper meals and had a somewhat good sleeping schedule. You and Steve agreed that if you broke any rules you’d be put in timeout since spankings well…that gives you a completely different feeling. Last night you had gone to bed around eleven thirty which is early for you and you also got up this morning around eight! It’s simple, but it made you proud of yourself and Steve was definitely proud of you. Every time you accomplished a task or followed any kind of rule he’d give you some praise which motivated you to get a lot of things done.

Tonight you planned on cleaning the kitchen and finishing the dishes, which shouldn’t be too hard. It’s about ten o’clock now, Steve had gone to bed early since he was exhausted. You had gotten in the shower before touching anything in the kitchen, which was kind of a mistake. Once you were showered and had the relaxed warm feeling you made your way to the couch to just sit for a little bit before cleaning. But that small sit turned into flipping through your book that you’ve been meaning to finish and sitting there for an hour or two. When you got the book you only read one chapter and just got busy with other things, but you felt like reading. By the time you decided to put the book down you noticed it was already one in the morning. You just looked at the clock and sighed, feeling a bit sad for not cleaning the kitchen and staying up past your bedtime. You stood up from your spot and stretched before making your way into the kitchen, if you were already up might as well finish what you were supposed to be doing.

The next morning you had finished the kitchen. Dishes were clean, counters were, floor was mopped, everything was clean. The only issue is waiting for Steve to wake up and come downstairs. It was only nine in the morning and you were still awake. You did feel a bit tired, but not enough to actually fall asleep. As you watched the morning cartoons you heard footsteps come from the hall, “Baby?” Steve called out. You cleared your throat before speaking “In the living room.” You answered. Steve walked around the corner, hair messy and his sleep pants hanging on his hips low, “What time did you get up?” He asked coming over to give your head a kiss before going to make some coffee. You stood up to follow him into the kitchen “I um…I didn’t go to sleep.” You said quietly. Steve stopped what he was doing and turned around “Oh?” He said before walking over to you “What time were you supposed to go to bed?” He questioned “Eleven?” You answered in a question. Your bedtimes were different during the week and weekends. Steve nodded his head “So why didn’t you go to bed?” You sighed softly and started to fiddle with your fingers. “I took my shower too late and got distracted.” You admitted. You learned that lying or not telling every detail made you sit in the corner longer than your normal timeout time.

After your confession Steve took your hand and made you follow him into the bedroom, “This is what’s going to happen.” He said while sitting you on the bed. You looked up at him from your spot on the bed. “You’re going to sleep and when you wake up you’ll have some lunch and then you go into timeout.” He explained. A frown made its way on your face “But why? I’ll be getting my sleep anyway.” You whined. Steve shook his head “You broke a rule.” He stated simply, “Now lay down and sleep.” He said as he pushed some of the covers down. Your pout never left your face, but you laid down anyway and let him cover you up and tuck you in. “I’ll wake you up in a bit.” He said before kissing your head and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him. You didn’t realize how tired you were until you actually settled in and closed your eyes. You were asleep in seconds.

You don’t know how long you were asleep, but you woke up on your own and you could hear talking coming from the living room. You quietly got up and put your ear to the door. You were still tired, but you were curious. You could hear Steve and from what else you could hear Robin and Eddie were over. Your eyes widened slightly and made your way back to bed and cover back up. There is no way in hell you were going to sit in timeout while those two were here. You started to hear footsteps come closer to the room, so you closed your eyes and pretended you were asleep. The door slowly opened “Baby?” Steve said softly as he walked closer to you. You ignored him and continued your fake sleeping. Steve looked over you and pulled the covers over you some more. He leaned down and kissed your cheek “I know you’re awake.” He whispered in your ear. Your heart started to race, but you kept your eyes closed “I won’t make you come out since we have company. But once they leave you’re getting up.” He finished and got back up walking out to continue chatting with his friends.

When you heard the door close you sighed out and rubbed your face. Even when you’re “sleeping” he still discreetly reminds you of what you have to do, but in the end….it’s for your well being and you appreciated Steve so much.

[bondew]

I got bored- I love my freckled, fluffy red head! (Oh Cade, u and ur neatly brushed hair are loved too)

Two Bathroom Stalls.

Cadence Lane.

The piercing sound of my alarm rings in my ear the next morning. It’s around 6am and I’ve only slept for 4 hours. I stumble to the mirror and I flip it back to face me. As the sun peeks from under the curtains I brush my hair so it doesn’t reflect my mind. My room is completely clean, well excluding my desk drawers. I shove on a tight black turtle neck and white dress pants. I don’t change my black stud earrings, I don’t really have any other pairs anyway. I swing my bag onto one shoulder and slide on my loafers as I step out.

Tossing a mint into my mouth a sudden hoard of people pile into the hallway. They sound like squawking vultures as they push past me. I run my hand through my hair and make my way downstairs. My first class is at 8, I was meant to finish my project last night but because of the situation I have to do it this morning. I skip breakfast and end up in the library. Without saying a word I sit down and open up my laptop. Skimming through the essay I quickly edit it, I’m confident that I won’t miss any mistakes. There is hardly ever any, I am the top of the class for a reason.

I put my earbuds in and open up my notebook. My peace doesn’t last long, the stampede of boys stride into library. I notice one of them sneak away from the group as they wander around and talk to girls. He heads to the non-fiction section and grabs a thick, hard covered book about bugs. My computer is still open so when he decides to ignore all the other free tables and sit in front of me he is partly blocked out. I can see his freckled forehead and fluffy orange hair over the top of my screen but this decreases as he slumps down and starts to read. Shaking my head back to reality I tap on my page with a pen and start to write. My playlist is open on my screen and every time a song changes I glance up.

I’ve basically fallen asleep but when a book slams closed I suddenly jolt up.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to wake you! U-uh I have to get to class!” The orange-haired boy says as he runs out of the room. Glancing at my watch I gather my stuff and sprint out just behind him. I arrive in the lecture room just before the clock hits 8, I’m panting and all eyes are on me. Fixing my hair I stand up straight and rush to a seat before anyone says anything.

Dazz Shawn.

It was probably a mistake choosing to study literature and theatre. I basically have no free time. I’m only a couple minutes late and luckily the director doesn’t seem to care. Dropping a heavy book about bugs and my tote bag on the floor I head backstage where I’m warmly welcomed.

We do a lot of theory in theatre obviously, I mean it is still a university class but today we have prac, the best part. For some weird reason the teacher randomly decided this year was the year we were going to do a performance! I mean I’m not unhappy, I love plays! But it was kinda out of the blue. I landed the male lead somehow so.. um yeah. I can’t really afford to be late to class anymore. The stage has been prepped with half-painted sets and random boxes since somebody lost the proper ones.

I washed my hair this morning so it’s all kinda fluffy and sticking out weirdly, nobody has really noticed. Not like I expect them to anyway! Like it’s just washing my hair.. haha. Um.. thankfully all my friends are studying things like, physics, sports science and mathematics so I don’t have to embarrass myself in-front of them when I’m horribly acting.

“Oh, by the way Dazz! You obviously know that we are doing Romeo and Juliet but just confirming you’re all good for the kiss?” My teacher interrupts my train of thought while I’m sitting on the edge of the stage. My legs instantly stop swinging and I go bright red.

“Yeahhh.. wait who’s Juliet again..” I struggle out.

“Right!” He flips his clipboard, “Hmm.. oh right of course! It’s Olivia Irwin!” He looks at me and smiles innocently.

“Yep! Ok all good!” I say quickly. Like obviously I knew I was going to have to kiss someone like it’s Romeo and Juliet for gods sake! But Olivia?! She’s like the prettiest, most talented person ever! Well atleast in this school!

Now don’t get the wrong idea I definitely don’t have a crush on her! Like I don’t really have a type but I just can’t date or crush on someone who has seen me trip into like three paint buckets!

[adoringhaikyuu]

they reject you and regret it afterwards

CHARACTERS: kuroo + iwaizumi + osamu + (gn!reader)

REQUEST: pspspsps i hope its okay if i drop my request here since i saw that yours are open :D can you maybe do how kuroo, iwaizumi and osamu rejects reader confession ( they are best friend ) because they have feelings for another person but later they regret it when they moved on? i love it when the boys realize it later how much the reader means to them but y/n took the chance to move on and have a sexy glow up ✋😩 yessss i wanna see them suffer at the end >:) • by anonymous

WARNINGS: dumb boys hurting your feelings and you hurting them right back :/

NOTES: i feel like i’m not too good at writing angst lol but i made these blurbs instead of hcs! 

kuroo let you down easy, not wanting to hurt your feelings––to be honest he did feel something for you, but he wasn’t sure if it was what you wanted it to be. he felt more certain of the feelings he had for someone else. someone you slowly watched him admire from afar until he worked up the courage to start joking with them, then offering to buy them lunch and so on. 

you still remember the awkward smile he gave you when you confessed to him, the smile that absolutely broke you because it showed you how much he didn’t want you the way you wanted him. not enough to give up his efforts with someone else. “i’m flattered y/n, but i’m sorry i just––you know i have a date this week...” 

you’d looked down immediately, unable to look him in the eyes longer and swallowed back the lump in your throat that was aching to come up in a sob. “yeah yeah, i’m sorry i just––let’s forget this ever happened, yeah?”

you gave him your most convincing smile and he agreed, wanting everything to be normal between the two of you.

but it wasn’t until he’d gone on a few dates with them to realize that it didn’t feel right. it didn’t feel familiar, the way he thought it would. it wasn’t the same comfort he felt in your presence. when they texted him, he didn’t feel the same burst of happiness he felt when you messaged him. he tried to wait it out, to see if things would change, but they didn’t. they just weren’t you.

it’d been a few weeks since you’d confessed and gotten rejected, but you decided to move on instead of dwelling on his unrequited feelings––it wouldn’t do you any good to wallow and weep over your best friend. you wanted him to be happy, and you deserved to be too. so you knocked yourself out of that sad headspace and changed yourself up a bit. you started to value yourself better than you did before, you dressed the way you wanted to but were always afraid of doing and everything about you just brightened up. and other people noticed as well. 

kuroo had kind of been too preoccupied to notice, if he was being honest. he didn’t realize what he had in front of him until he practically sprinted over to your place to surprise you and be honest about his feelings. you opened the door, already dressed up and kuroo took a step back, eyes widening as they took you in. did you always look this breathtaking?

“wow...”

you smiled gratefully, straightening out your clothes. “thanks, that’s what i was going for.” you walked back into your apartment to get your shoes, “not that i mind but what are you doing here?” 

he blinked out of his trance and stepped in, closing the door behind him. “oh i just––i brought us some food.” he raised the bag he was holding even though you weren’t facing him. “i was kinda hoping we could spend some time together...” he scratched the back of his head, “maybe talk about a few things...” he trailed off when something clicked in his head as he watched you slip your shoes on. “wait why are you all dressed up?” 

you turned and looked at him apologetically, “oh...i’m sorry kuroo,” you paused, “i actually have somewhere to be. can i take a raincheck?”

he opened his mouth for a few seconds as he watched you, but no sound came out. “oh um...well could i just––wait here? until you get back?” 

you looked to the side awkwardly bringing one hand up to hold your other arm. “it’s just that...i might not be alone when i come back.”

as soon as you uttered those words, he could feel his heartbeat falter in his chest, a faint ringing noise in his ears. 

“...a date?” 

you nodded with a smile and though it’s selfish, he felt a part of him dim on the inside when he noticed how excited you were. he didn’t really have a right to stop you now did he, not when you chose his happiness over your own what felt like way long ago. so he wouldn’t.

he nodded as well, “oh” he forced a smile onto his face and stepped back towards the door, “that’s exciting. i’m happy for you, really.” he turned the door knob, “i’ll catch up with you some other time then, yeah? you’ll tell me how it went.” he looked at you one last time, his gaze wavering under the undeterred happiness radiating from you.

when he finally stepped out and closed your door, all the emotions hit him at once. he didn’t know what hurt the most, the fact that he was too late, or the fact that you didn’t stop him, didn’t notice the pleading look in his eyes as he silently begged you to stay with him. 

iwaizumi froze when you told him how you felt. it was the smallest reaction you’d ever seen from him before, the calmest––yet it did anything but soothe you. you could see the hesitation in his eyes, the uncertainty of what to say next in the way his mouth opened but produced no sound. you already knew what he was going to say.

he will admit, seeing the tears in your eyes that you barely managed to blink back when he rejected you did strike a blow to his heart. but he just couldn’t tell you what you wanted to hear, he wouldn’t lie to you. “i––i’m sorry y/n i just...don’t feel the same.” 

his eyes were apologetic, almost pitiful as he watched you take a step back, “right, right. that’s––that’s okay.” you tried to smile but it felt more like a grimace. “i just didn’t want to keep it to myself, that’s all. i’m sure i’ll get over it soon.” he nodded but wasn’t sure what else to say. so he didn’t say anything. 

things were a little awkward for a couple weeks between the two of you, but you didn’t want to lose your friendship, so you eventually moved on. 

it wasn’t until one day you were at the café you always went to together that you noticed him taking longer than usual to bring back your drinks. you looked over to see him chatting with the barista, both of them with nervous smiles on their faces. he came back a few minutes later with a note in his pocket that you assumed was the barista’s number and a blush on his cheeks. he placed your drink in front of you, eyes looking down, and didn’t mention anything, probably since he didn’t want to rub it in, so you didn’t bring it up either. 

but you did wonder if they were the reason he didn’t feel the same for you––you wondered if they weren’t in the picture, if he would have fallen for you instead. 

he didn’t want to hide anything from you, so he told you when he had a date coming up. you wished him luck and told him you hoped he’d have a good time and that was that. 

they ended up dating but you didn’t mind. he seemed happy and you truly did want the best for him. you started focusing on yourself and eventually found a boyfriend, one who appreciated you and loved you and you couldn’t ask for more. 

iwaizumi was happy for you as well, but he couldn’t ignore this piercing feeling he felt when he first heard the news, then when he would see you two together, on your double dates, at parties, anywhere, really. something just ticked him off. he knew he didn’t have a right to feel this way, but he couldn’t help it, couldn’t make sense of it. he couldn’t even figure out what it meant. 

only once he realized the ache he felt in his chest when you smiled at your boyfriend the way you used to smile at him, the pull at his heart when you kissed his cheek, completely enamored. only then did he realize that he was jealous, that he’d made a mistake, that he’d lost the one chance he had of being with his soulmate. 

osamu had just gotten his new restaurant, he was achieving his goals, living his life without fear, and you took inspiration from that. you decided to be upfront about your brewing feelings and ask him out just as he put the finishing touches in the establishment.

he was wiping down the counter as you sat at the bar, swallowing your nerves as you watched him. “hey samu?”

he hummed and glanced up at you for a second before looking back to what he was doing. 

you took a deep breath, “would you maybe...want to go out to eat tomorrow?” 

he didn’t look up, but his brows furrowed, “yeah? why are you even asking?” 

you paused, of course he wouldn’t realize what you meant, you guys ate together all the time. you blinked a few times before clearing your throat, “um i just––i meant as a...date?” 

this time, he paused, well more like froze. he kept his eyes on the counter, his face blank, but you could tell he was internally processing everything. did he hear you right? “what?” 

you considered taking it back, but you had a feeling he did hear you, he just wasn’t sure how to respond. “um...i asked if you wanna go on a date? with me...”

he nodded and straightened up, “right.” he brought a hand up to scratch the back of his head, finally looking at you and the look in his eyes was enough to make your wavering confidence crumble. “i sort of have my eye on someone else right now...” you nodded, trying not to let the tears form in your eyes. he went on, “my new neighbor needed to borrow something and we got to talking...was thinking of asking them out, actually.” that was the final twist of the knife. 

“oh...” your voice was small ”thats––that’s great!” you smiled but kept your eyes cast down, “forget what i asked i just...wanted to see what you’d say haha,” you tried to play it off as a joke, “i got you!” 

he stared at you silently for a few seconds, clearly contemplating whether or not he believed you, but in the end, he let it go. 

you never brought up that night ever again, but you thought about it constantly. it haunted you, in a way. of course the one time you’re finally able to speak up about your feelings, it backfired. 

you were in a very upsetting and self deprecating headspace for a while, wondering if this was your sign to never make the first move, if you were the problem. it took you a little while to snap out of it, but once you did, you realized your worth and stopped looking at the world through a grey lens––you felt like you’d bloomed as a person. 

things didn’t go very far with osamu and his neighbor, but you didn’t take that as an opportunity to try again with him, you didn’t want to wait around for him, even though you thought about it for a second at first––you learned to respect yourself more. 

meanwhile, your best friend was beside himself, going through the process of reflection and realization. it’s not that he was desperate after a failed relationship, it’s more so that he suddenly realized he had someone perfect right by him all these years––it only made sense. but he was too stupid to realize that, to realize that he cared about you as more than a friend. he had foolishly mistaken his feelings for you as caring for a friend––you two had been inseparable since you were kids, he couldn’t even notice when his feelings shifted from caring for a friend to loving his best friend. 

he decided to talk to you about it, it’d only been a few months since you’d joked? about going on a date with him, but part of him felt confident that you might have meant it for real. he was sure you’d be open to it still. he called you during his break at work and found himself smiling as soon as he heard your voice. 

“hey samu what’s up?” 

he started to answer, but he trailed off when he heard you laughing at an unfamiliar voice in the background. “hey...just wanted to talk. what are you uh up to?” 

he heard you shush whoever was with you. “nothing much.” he heard you sit down.” i can’t stay for long but what did you want to talk about? i’m all ears.”

he was going to brush it off, maybe it was just a friend, but when he heard a faint ‘babe’ and what sounded like a small kiss on the other end, that was all he needed to confirm his suspicions. “yeah i just...i’ll actually call you back later, okay?”

you paused on the other end, most likely confused, but you let him go nonetheless. 

osamu sat there in his office at the back of his restaurant, surrounded by silence, complete disbelief and an indescribable ache running through his body. was he really too late? 

[0pexigon0]

Camilo Madrigal x deaf!male reader

A/n: Female reader dni! Non-binary readers can interact as long as they are okay with the use of he/him pronouns, trans ftm can read

Featuring: Bruno

• Camilo loves meeting new people and finds it easy to befriend citizens

•Until [Name] had rolled around

•[Name] was either born deaf or deaf from an incident

• It was late in the afternoon when Camilo had gone to a new bakery in town to pick up an order of bread, [Name] came into his sight.

•A new face! A new friend!

•With bread in between his hip and his arm, he trudged over to [Name], saying the biggest and loudest “Hello”

•Though, he just continued to what seemed like examine a flower, very hard

•That confused Camilo, he was sure the other man would hear him, “Excuse me? Hello?”

•He smiled at the flower and turned his back, his smile growing even farther when he caught sight of many more variations of the flowers in a shop

•This damn near broke Camilo’s heart

•That night, Camilo was silent at dinner, playing with his food in deep thought

•The only one to really notice was Bruno, despite being back for only three months he was deemed very perceptive

•”Camilo, is there something wrong?” Camilo only looked up to his tío, “Umm, today.. I was ignored…”

•The entire family went silent, not from surprise but from confusion, “Well, did you make that person mad?”

•”No tío!” He clutched his fork, “I just… I’ve never met him before, I said hello, super duper loud too! But… he didn’t even spare a glance, he was looking at a flower, saw more at the flower shop and ran off!”

•Bruno softly smiled, “I see what’s going on…”

•”You do? So.. is he mad at me?”

•”You cant be mad at a stranger you cant hear…”

•”Can’t hear…?” Then it clicked, “He’s deaf…” Delores looked down at her food, sympathetically, she couldn’t imagine what it would be like not being able to hear

•”I’ve never met a deaf person before.. How do we communicate?”

•”SSL” Abuela took a bite, gracefully, from her food, “Spanish Sign Language”

•”I don’t understand…”

•”He speaks with his hands, hopefully. Bruno, since you know so much about his situation, do you mind?”

•”Oh.. Um, no problem!”

•The next day, Bruno and Camilo took a trip to the library to learn a bit of SSL

•What they didn’t expect was to see Camilo’s mariposa (butterfly), reading on a wooden chair, it seemed he was still on the first page

•The librarian whispered under her breath, “He’s been here for three hours and still on the first page…”

•The familia glanced at each other, “I-I’ll wait outside…” Camilo nodded

•”He’s deaf, get his attention by waving a hand in his face” Bruno gave his last piece of advice before leaving the library

•Camilo rubbed the back of his hand with his thumb, approaching the deaf boy and waving a hand in front of his face

•The boy seemed to recognize the gesture and smiled at Camilo, waving

•Not even ten minutes later, Camilo and the deaf boy were out of the library, Camilo greeted his tío and introduced his new friend

•”Hola, tío! This is [Name]!” [Name] couldn’t hear the conversation one bit but stayed smiling and waved, “We are gonna go hit the park and teach him to read!”

•Bruno said nothing as Camilo and the deaf boy parted from him

Date finished: 12/22/21 A little Christmas present

I might as well join in on the hype despite the movie not even being released where I live

Status: edited, I apologize for any missed mistakes

[specialagentsergio]

side effects may vary

summary: An unexpected side effect brings you and Spencer closer—literally—when he’s prescribed a medication to help relieve his chronic nightmares.

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: prescription drug use, one small sexual reference, discussion of tornadoes (spencer gives a small infodump)

a/n: i wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins‘ “there was only one bed” event. when i saw the “medication makes someone sleepy” prompt, i had to take it, because this happens to me regularly lol.

word count: 2k

masterlist

It’s become a habit for you and Spencer: every Friday night you can, the two of you get together and watch a movie or show. It’s always at your place because he doesn’t have a TV, but he doesn’t mind—you have the better couch anyways. He thinks he could stay on it forever, especially on the nights where you don’t watch anything at all and talk for hours instead.

He made the mistake of mentioning this Friday night tradition to Morgan once. He’d questioned just why, exactly, Spencer liked going over to your place so much. Spencer hadn’t realized Derek was teasing him until he’d already come up with the lame excuse of your couch being really comfortable.

Morgan had chuckled. “I think it has less to do with the couch and more to do with the person who owns it, kid.”

He was right, of course, but was Spencer going to admit his silly little crush? Absolutely not. Especially not to Derek. He just continued going to your place every Friday, stubbornly ignoring the smirks and eyebrow wiggles sent his way from the man.

It’s one such night a few months later when an alarm on his phone goes off, making you both jump. He nearly spills the popcorn everywhere in his scramble to turn it off. “Sorry. It’s—wow, it’s nine already.” As usually happens when he’s with you, he’s lost track of time. It’s why he set the alarm in the first place.

“You have somewhere to be?” you ask.

“Um, no. I just…” he trails off, leaning forward to dig through his satchel at his feet, searching for the white paper bag he picked up from the pharmacy earlier in the day.

You don’t ask aloud, raising an eyebrow instead. It’s you providing him with an out—you’ll let him pretend he didn’t see it if he doesn’t want to answer the question.

He sighs, pulling the little orange bottle out, a prescription from the psychiatrist you’d coaxed him into seeing. “It’s just, uh… it’s supposed to help with, y’know… dreams,” he explains quietly.

“Nightmares,” you clarify.

“Yeah. That’s what the alarm was for.” He pops the cap and looks at the little pills inside. “To remind me.”

“We can finish this later,” you say with a gesture towards the TV. “It’s okay if you need to leave.”

He shakes his head. “She said to take it a few hours before bed. There’s plenty of time to finish.” Not that he cares that much about the show. He just doesn’t want to cut his time with you short.

“The bottle says it can make you drowsy, though,” you say, pointing out the little flap on the side of the bottle he hadn’t noticed.

“It won’t,” he dismisses nearly immediately, shaking a dose out into his hand.

“You can’t know that.”

“I’m a chronic insomniac. I’ve tried medication before. It doesn’t work,” he says firmly.

“If you say so,” you say, unconvinced.

“I do.”

“Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” The words on their own typically imply annoyance or resignation, an insistence that the speaker knows better, but from you, all he can detect is amusement. And if he didn’t know better, he’d say your slight smile conveyed affection.

“Oh, I won’t,” he replies confidently, and takes the dose with a sip of water.

That confidence turns out to be misplaced.

It doesn’t happen quickly. You finish watching the current episode and he insists on another. About halfway through it, he starts to feel… different. A little… foggy and unfocused. Any movement he makes feels slow, and his eyelids are getting heavy. Try as he might, he can’t quite keep them open. He’ll rest them for just a minute….

“… encer. Spencer.” Something pokes his arm and he grumbles, shifting away.

“What?”

“It’s over.”

He blinks a few times, slowly reacquainting himself with his surroundings. Credits are rolling on the TV screen; he's about to ask why they look slanted, then realizes it's because he's slumped to the side. He pushes himself back to sitting, a delayed "oh" leaving his mouth. He rubs the sleep from one of his eyes, and catches your expression in the other.

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything!" you protest but the little laugh punctuating your words gives away what he knew you were thinking: I told you so.

With a sigh, he begins gathering up his things, pulling his bag into his lap and untying his shoelaces so he can put them back on.

“What are you doing?" you ask.

"Um, going home?"

"You can't ride the Metro like this," you say. "You're half asleep."

He tries and fails to suppress a yawn, but still insists, "I'll be fine."

"Spencer, I don't like you riding the Metro this late even when you're totally lucid. You know that."

He does. You often express such worries on your Friday nights, offering to let him stay with you. He always declines. Your couch may be comfortable when he's sitting, but it's not long enough for his legs horizontally.

He also worries about what he might say in his sleep. He's been playfully teased by team members often enough already. The last thing he wants is to ruin your friendship by expressing his feelings for you in his sleep.

He's got one shoe on and is about to put on the other, but you snatch it away. "Hey."

"No,” you say firmly. "You're staying here tonight."

"(Y/N)--"

"Take your shoe off." You flip the TV off, stand, and stretch. "And come to bed."

His mouth drops open a little. Come to bed. Did he really just hear that? You say it like it's the most natural thing. It sounds so...domestic.

He really likes it.

His eyes follow you as you walk to your bedroom. You stop in the doorway and look back to him. "Come on."

He's in a bit of a daze as he walks towards you, not realizing he's still wearing one shoe for a few steps. He clumsily kicks it off, then follows you through the bedroom door and into the adjoining bathroom, where you provide him with a spare toothbrush.

Normally he wouldn't want to share toothpaste with someone. He's even refused to do so a few times on cases when his little travel-sized tube has run out, instead going down to the front desk of whatever place they're staying at for a replacement, no matter how tired he is. But tonight he doesn't even think twice, just takes the tube when you pass it to him. It simply feels...normal, as if you and him do this every night before bed.

I could get used to this.

Spencer's still a little groggy from the medication, so it isn't until he’s standing in the bedroom that he realizes that there’s a problem. "There's only one bed."

"Um, yeah," you reply. "What, did you think I had bunk beds?"

"No, I just..." He's not sure how to explain it when you're pulling back the covers like it’s any other night. "There's one bed... and two of us."

"That's correct. It's a queen. It's made for two people," you point out. You sit down on one side, then pat your hand on the other.

He slowly approaches the bed, but hesitates, twisting his fingers a little. Your expression shifts, and he blinks. Surely that's not a look of disappointment he's seeing?

Your voice is quiet when you speak. "Spencer, if you don't want to share a bed with me, you can just say it."

"What? No!" he exclaims. "That—that's not it at all."

"Okay, then, what is it?"

"The opposite,” he says with a nervous laugh. “I can't believe you want to share a bed with me."

"Why wouldn't I?" You say it so simply; he can hardly believe it.

"Well, because I'm... me," is the reply he comes up with. "I'm annoying, and I talk too much, and my limbs are all long and weird--"

"I don't think you're annoying, Spencer," you interrupt. "We wouldn't be friends if I did."

"Oh. I guess... I guess that's true. But my arms and legs--”

"Are fine,” you reassure.

“I…” He’s a little too out of it still to think of something else. “Well, okay.”

“Since that settled..." You smile up at him. "Would you get into bed?"

He can't help but smile back. "Okay."

You both settle in. Right before you turn off the light, he speaks again. "I talk in my sleep," he says quickly, heat rising to his cheeks. "Just thought you should know.

"So I'm gonna get your fun facts in the night, too?" you ask, the corner of your mouth turning up.

"Maybe." He fiddles with the collar of his shirt. "Derek says every night is a toss up between that or gibberish…”

You laugh. "Noted."

You turn the lights off and silence falls over the room as you both find comfortable positions. The medication definitely hasn't worn off; sleep is quickly approaching him again. He feels a light touch on his arm. It trails down to his wrist. A slight pause, then you're sliding your hand into his. On instinct he winds his fingers through yours. He hears a content sigh right before he drifts off.

---

Morning light spilling through the curtains wakes him up. He takes in a deep breath and stretches. He feels amazingly well rested; more than he has in a long time. And he had the best dream about you….

Spencer rolls over, then jumps a little—you're right there next to him, awake and looking at him with a soft expression.

"So it wasn't a dream," he says aloud.

You smile. "No, it wasn't.”

"We slept in the same bed," he says, dumbstruck.

"We did."

"You... held my hand?"

A nod and a bashful smile. “I did."

"Huh." He's quiet as he processes this and gathers his memories together. There's a question that comes to mind, but he doesn't know if he’s brave enough to voice it. Instead, he asks, "Did I sleep talk?"

"You did," you reply. "You told me the widest recorded tornado was 2.6 miles wide."

"The 2013 El Reno tornado," he says automatically. "It’s also the second most powerful tornado recorded. It occurred on May 31 of that year. Though it officially ranks as the widest tornado on record, current Doppler estimates of the 1999 Mullhall, Oklahoma tornado indicate that it may have been 4.3 miles wide."

You blink. "That's terrifying."

Spencer winces. "Sorry."

"It's okay." You hesitate a little, biting your lower lip, then slowly reach out and take his hand. Again, his fingers thread through yours perfectly.

He looks down at your joined hands, then back at you. His question from before returns. "What does this mean?" he asks quietly.

"It means..." You take a deep breath. "I like you.”

He frowns. "I know that. That's why we're friends."

"That's not what I meant." You squeeze his hand as if to remind him that you're holding it. "I meant that I like you as more than a friend."

His eyebrows shoot up. “Really?" he squeaks.

"Really," you confirm. "If you don't feel the same, I understa--”

You're cut off by him leaning forward and pressing the lightest little kiss on your lips.

"I like you as more than a friend, too," he says softly.

You give him the most wonderful smile. "Then get back here and kiss me properly."

Spencer obliges. He's never cared less about morning breath.

You scoot closer to him when you break apart and push his limbs around slightly to get into an embrace. "Finally," you murmur into the skin of his neck.

The sensation makes him shiver. “What do you mean?"

"I’ve been trying to get you into my bed for weeks."

He nearly chokes on his own sharp inhale. "I—what?"

"Not like that," you clarify. "I just wanted a good opportunity to confess. I figured you'd be too comfy in bed to run off right after I told you."

“You think I'd run off on you?"

You shrug. “You tend to remove yourself from a situation if your feelings get too intense. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, but in this case, it’s the last thing I wanted to happen, you know?”

"Yeah, I get that,” he says. "I promise not to do it with you, though. About anything.”

You lift your head to look him in the eyes. “Kiss me again."

Spencer does.

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

tell me what you thought here!

smut follow up: hands to myself

general taglist: @calm-and-doctor​ , @spencerreid9​

[polar-equinoxx]

And chapter three!! Apologies for the massive gap between chapters, idk why I’m prolonging it, I finished writing it aaages ago lmao

1280 words

You can probably guess what happens👀😘 (art by me :D)

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Hot Summer Nights, Chapter III

third person

It’s late once Maverick gets into the bar on Saturday night. Goose told him that he’d be there until eleven, but it’s quarter past one now, so he would’ve left hours ago. Maverick stifles a yawn as he sits down and orders a small Budweiser from the bartender, feeling tired from his late night bike ride around the town, getting to know it better. A few minutes in, he feels someone’s eyes on him.

He doesn’t look up. The only people in here at this time are insomniacs and people who should have left five drinks ago, and he does not want to start a fight.

Only the gaze he feels is not actually belonging to someone who wants to knock him out with a beer bottle.

Maverick can’t stand it any more, so he slowly lifts his head from the wood grain and swipes his eyes around the almost empty bar.

And whose eyes does he lock on? None other than Iceman Kazansky.

Why did it have to be him there? The one pilot he’s desperately been trying to avoid ever since he caught him staring at him from the first lesson. Not because Maverick doesn’t want to be friends with him, only because he knows he’ll get a zap of electricity running through him if he looks at the blond for much longer.

Maverick has feelings for him, and god he wished he didn’t.

But for now, he bites down those same thoughts and tilts his head to the empty stool next to him. Sitting with someone instead of on your own could only mean less of a chance of a fight, right?

Iceman stands up and moves around the circular bar until he gets to him. “When did you get in?”

“Quarter past,” Maverick replies, trying to ignore how that voice of his sounds. “What about you?”

“Like five minutes before that,” Ice sits down next to him, leaning slightly on his elbow.

“Oh right,”

“What are you having?”

“A Budweiser. You?”

“Also a bud,” Ice says, sipping it, but not taking his eyes off of Maverick’s own.

Maverick nods, holding Ice’s gaze.

Ice clears his throat, shifting his gaze to the bartop. “uh… you look.. good,”

What?! Were Maverick’s ears deceiving him?! “… Really? I haven’t done anything,”

He takes a sip of his drink, speaking into it while he still holds it up. “I know, just thought.. I’d say,”

“Oh! Uh, well, thank you,” Maverick smiles at him.

“You’re welcome,” Ice replies, pushing back his hair.

“Your.. your um, hair looks nice,”

“You just sayin’ that because I haven’t put any stuff in it?”

Maverick smirks slightly. “No, just because I haven’t seen it without any stuff in it,”

“Hah, in that case, thanks,”

“You’re welcome,”

Unbeknownst to Maverick, Iceman was feeling the same as he was. He was unable to keep his eyes off of Maverick ever since Goose had introduced them last week in the bar. Iceman, ice cold no mistakes, had fallen deeply in love with Maverick, and he was trying to let him know.

“It’s getting pretty late,” Maverick says, looking at the clock.

Ice nods. “Uh huh,”

Maverick clears his throat as he finishes his glass. “Any reason you’re looking at me like that, Kazansky?” he looks at him, with a mischievous side smile.

Ice blinks. “Like what?”

“Like you can’t take your eyes off me?”

Ice doesn’t say anything. He is flirting with me? Is he? I think he is. In that case, I will just flirt more, back to him. “..Perhaps,”

Maverick is nearly silenced by that one word. “..Wanna go outside?”

“Why?”

Ice’s voice has somehow gotten five times more attractive to Maverick within the past ten seconds.

Iceman finishes his drink and puts the money for the drink on the bartop.

Why has he put that much down? Oh- “Hey- what you don’t have to pay for mi-” Maverick protests.

“I insist,” Ice inclines his head ever so slightly.

Maverick is at a loss for words. Iceman Kazansky just bought me a drink what on earth is going on here?!

“Anyway, did you say we should go outside?”

“Mm- mhm-”

“Alright then,” he gives Maverick a small smile.

Maverick gets to the door before him, so he holds it open for Ice to go through first.

“Thank you,” he says, and Maverick swears he sees a blush on his cheeks.

“S’alright,”

“It’s still pretty warm out,”

“Well, it is a summer night, and summer nights do tend to be hot,”

Ice rolls his eyes, leaning slightly on a streetlamp.

Maverick takes half a second to decide to pin Ice to the streetlamp, go on tiptoes and kiss him.

Iceman stops working.

Oh my god oh my god oh my god he’s kissing me!?

Maverick pulls back, dropping back onto his heels.

Ice is staring at him, mouth slightly open, not quite believing it.

“Flirty enough for you, Tom?” Maverick asks, a grin on his face.

Maverick saying his first name snaps him out of his trance. “Dammit Pete, took your time didn’t you?”

Because, oh. Oh now he knows why Maverick was avoiding him.

Now it’s Maverick’s turn to blush as Ice takes his head in his hands and kisses his cheek.

“..so did you,” he says quietly.

Ice smiles at him. How was he able to keep himself from saying anything to Maverick before?

“Want to walk back? It is coming up to two now,” Ice says, recovered enough to form a short sentence and start walking back to the dorms at the school.

“Sure,” Maverick says, reaching out to hold Ice’s hand, smiling as he does it.

Since it was now ten to two in the morning, no cars were about on the streets that they walked down, and the only light came from the yellow streetlamps dotted strategically on the pavements. No stars could be seen, because of the glow of the streetlamps, but Iceman was sure they’d be some out there tonight. It wasn’t cold either, since it was mid June. This was the coldest it would probably get all night.

“Since when?”

“Since when what?” Ice replies.

“How long have you wanted to kiss me for?” Maverick asks, like it was just a regular question.

“Maverick-”

“What?! I’m curious!”

Ice sighs. He’s always been like this, and now it seems Ice’ll have to get used to it. “Since Goose introduced us,”

“The first time we met?!” he says, shocked.

“Have you ever heard of love at first sight?”

Maverick laughs, making Ice blush a little, though he couldn’t see it right now. “Yeah course I have,”

“You?” Ice decides to fire the question back at him.

“When I caught you staring at me in class,” he says, looking very unimpressed but not surprised at his own question.

“Which time was that?” Ice asks, smirking.

“I-” Maverick sighs. “The first day-”

“You’re as bad as me,”

“Shut up,”

Now that they were passing under a streetlamp, Iceman could see the furious blush on Maverick’s cheeks. “Whyy?”

He rolls his eyes and frowns at him. “Just because..”

“I’m not going to tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about…”

“I know. Just want to…” Maverick’s voice has changed ever so slightly.

“Just want to whaat, Mav?”

Maverick shuts Ice up by kissing him again, which makes the other pilot lose all of his flirtatious spike.

“God, if I’d only known that it was this easy to shut you up, I would’ve done it in the lockers last week,”

Iceman smiles, feeling oh so full. “You could have anyway. I wouldn’t have minded,”

He shakes his head. “Thanks for the advice, Ice,”

“Anytime, Maverick,”

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 2)

(part 1)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.  

word count: 3k

chapter warnings: kinda smut? (male masturbation), stalking (not bucky lol), a bit a violence, angst

It had been a month.  Well, 29 days, to be exact; he’d been counting them.  29 days since he’d seen so much more than he was supposed to, and he was pretty sure you’d seen him too.  29 days of tense silence as he wondered if you were ever going to say anything about it.

It must have been that you hadn’t seen him, if you hadn’t said anything for so long.  But god, it really did feel like you were looking right into his eyes as you came that night.  He knew the reality was that it was a horrible mistake and he was a terrible person for looking at you like that, and that he was never going to be any closer to you than watching someone else pleasure you; he knew that truly.  But regardless, that moment had been playing on repeat in his mind for 29 days.

And now, as he took his shower, he prepared to finish off day 29 and start day 30.

“Fuck,” he hissed under his breath, head falling back against the cool tile as his hand stroked slowly over his cock.  He’d dreamt about you (again) and woken up so hard that it actually hurt; so this wasn’t a continuation of his perversion, or his unhealthy obsession, no, it was pain relief.  It was medicine, really.

In his dream, like always, it had been him between your legs in the back of the car and not that other guy— who he’d seen on TV the other day, dying in the first five minutes of an episode of some awful CW drama, by the way.  It killed him that he couldn’t know how you really taste, or how you really would sound saying his name, but the best guess of his subconscious would have to do.  He tried to conjure in his mind how you sounded that night, each frame of the memory burned into his brain until it was what he saw every time it closed his eyes.

Baby.

That was what you’d said first, and it still made his heart stop every time it echoed in his head.  Baby.

The word itself was sort of innocuous, but it was the way you said it— just below your breath, deep but airy— and what it meant.  It was a plea: you were begging him to touch you, to make you feel good, to help you.  Bucky could listen to you beg for hours, it would be like music to his ears; like poetry, even.  

Later that night, when he’d given you the rest of his sandwich, he’d gotten the closest he ever would to hearing you moan his name.  What you’d said originally was just ‘oh my god, Bucky, this is so good’ and it was just generic enough that he could imagine it being a little more specific.  Sure, it was stupid to get off on memories of you praising a sandwich (that you ate while drunk in the shower) but it still did wonders for him as his hand pumped his length faster and faster.

Oh my god, Bucky, it feels so good— you feel so good.  You’re so good.  Oh my god, Bucky—

He bit down on his lip, already so close to the edge that there was no turning back, toes curling underneath the stream of hot water as his breathing moved just as quick as his thoughts— thoughts of you in the back of the car, or in the shower with your foggy silhouette just barely visible to him, or doing all sorts of things that he’d never seen you do but he’d love to pretend he had.  

“Oh my god, Bucky!” you yelled as you swung open the door, a choked moan jumping out of his throat in shock as his eyes shot open, come starting to spill down over his hand.

You couldn’t see him through his shower curtain, thank all that’s holy, but it was a sort of sensory overload as he tried to process what was going on mid-orgasm.

“What?!” he yelped, voice clearly rougher but hopefully not in a way you would find suspicious.

“Come quick,” you requested.

Already did, he thought to himself with a shudder of guilt.

“What’s going on?”

“There’s somebody in the yard,” you explained frantically, “it’s probably nothing, but I don’t know how they got past the gate—”

Your mitigation was lost to him as he was already turning off the flow of water, the evidence of his misdeed already washed away, leaving only the ringing in his ears and the burning in his cheeks as reminders.

You stepped out into the hall to give him just enough privacy to slip on a robe, which he was certain he looked ridiculous in but he really had no choice.  Storming out of the bathroom, he wasn’t sure he was ready to confront a potential threat while dripping wet and barefoot, but the whole point of him living here most of the week was so he could keep you safe at all times— apparently, shower time included.  

“Stay inside,” he instructed you quickly, “and stay out of the line of sight of any windows and doors, got it?” 

You nodded, and he could tell you were scared.  He hated that you had to worry about this sort of stuff.  He was glad to be there to help, yes, but he would rather this line of work didn’t need to exist at all even if it put him out of a job.  You waited for him there as he pushed past you and moved through the living room, considering whether or not he should grab a weapon from the safe he kept hidden in this room— but then he glanced to his left arm, drying quicker than the rest of him, and remembered he already had a weapon.

By the time he reached the door he could hear someone shouting your name outside.  As Bucky flipped on the damn-near-blinding security light on your porch and entered the yard, he saw a guy— smaller than him, but not exactly tiny— who seemed to ignore him and the light completely as he continued his desperate attempts to get your attention.  

“This is private property, you need to leave,” Bucky told the man in his best ‘stern but not quite yelling’ voice. 

“Is she home?” he asked him instead, totally unfazed by the warning.  As the fan looked back up and called your name again, Bucky shivered with the realization that he was looking up at your bedroom window.  Had he already seen you there?  Or, worse, did he have some other way of knowing which window was your bedroom?

“You need to get out of here before I call the police.  You’re trespassing,” Bucky continued, pushing the man back towards the gate.  Sadly, Bucky knew from experience the police weren’t that concerned about celebrity stalkers— you and him had both called to no avail once they learned the name of the homeowner.  It made his blood boil just to think about it.

“Hey, let go of me!” the man resisted, pushing Bucky back.  He seemed to sober up a bit when Bucky’s face changed, though, but it was too late.  He tried to duck but totally missed, and Bucky’s right fist made contact with his jaw.  “Ow!” he screeched, cowering and trying to cover his face.  “What the fuck?!  That’s assault— you just assaulted me!”

“And you’re trespassing.  And harassing.  And probably stalking,” Bucky listed, continuing to guide the man back towards the gate.  “Tell me how you got in here.  Did you hop the fence?”

He couldn’t go any further back as the man was pressed back against a stone column, squirming a bit but otherwise putting up little fight— or maybe he was actually trying his best, and it was just lost on someone as strong as Bucky.  

Unamused by his stammering and lack of an answer, Bucky brought his metal fist to the column right beside the man’s face, hitting hard enough to break off a sizable chunk of the stone.  “Tell me!” he demanded.

“There’s a tree out back, I climbed it!” he explained with a whimper, “I’m sorry!”

“Don’t come back here, you hear me?  Or this—” Bucky pointed to the dent in the column that he’d made— “will be your face!”

Letting him go and swinging open the gate a bit, the man ran away of his own volition, stumbling down the street and out of the glowing light of the streetlamps.  Bucky let out a low sigh, hoping it was the last of him but terrified that it wouldn’t be.  He made a mental note to call a landscaper about trimming this mysterious tree in the back, or maybe chopping it down altogether, as he made his way back inside.  He found you in the living room, chewing your nails nervously and watching him step closer with wide, watery eyes.

“He’s gone,” Bucky informed you quickly.

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

“You okay?” he asked gently.

“Um, yeah,” you decided, but you didn’t seem so confident.  Even so, he wasn’t sure what more he could do.  

“Oh, I broke your pillar, by the way.  Sorry.”

“I saw that,” you smiled a little, but he frowned.

“I told you to stay out of sight of the windows,” he reminded you.

You sighed.   “I know, I know, I just…” you trailed off, lip quivering a little as you got emotional again.  “I know it’s stupid but—”

“No, don’t say that,” he interjected.

“— but I was so scared,” you finished, voice wavering as you ran towards him, suddenly pulling him into a tight hug.  It took him by surprise, but he figured it was okay to hug you back.  He was only wearing a robe, he suddenly remembered, and your face was against the exposed portion of his bare chest.  If he hadn’t gotten off just minutes ago, he certainly would’ve gotten hard just from that (embarrassingly enough).

“Hey, it’s okay,” he soothed gently, indulging himself in resting his chin on top of your head as he stroked your hair.  

“Thank you,” you mumbled against his skin, pulling him even closer, “god, I don’t even know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been here.”

A pang of guilt rattled in his chest; you trusted him so completely and he was crushing on you, spying on you (only the once, but still), taking advantage of your need for protection, staying in your guest bedroom and jerking off to you in your shower— when had he turned into an unstoppable pervert?

“Will you stay in my room tonight?” you asked him suddenly, looking up at him with those big shiny eyes and a pouty lip.

“Oh nonononono,” he shook his head, instantly recognizing that trap.

“No, Bucky, please,” you whimpered, “that guy might come back, I don’t want you all the way across the house.”

“I shouldn’t— I’d be overstepping—” he stammered.

“Please,” you sighed, and he sighed too, because when you said it like that, he couldn’t say no to you.

//

Bucky had insisted on staying on the floor as opposed to getting up on your bed, which was a drag but whatever.  At least you had a lot of good spare blankets and pillows to make him a comfy-looking pallet.  He seemed to agree when he appeared behind you in the doorway to find you on your knees on the floor, putting it all together.

“You didn’t need to do that, I’m pretty good at sleeping on floors as-is,” he dismissed.

“No, I’m happy to!” you beamed, turning around and choking a bit when you looked up at him in his pajamas.  Even though they were still pretty conservative, specifically sweats and a scoop neck sweater-y sort of top, it was probably more than you’d ever seen of him since his uniform was very concealing.  You were kind of hoping to catch a glimpse of his metal hand— you didn’t get to see it much because he wore driving gloves the vast majority of the time, and you hadn’t really been paying attention when it was exposed earlier by his just being in a robe— but he was noticeably leaning against the doorframe in such a way that you couldn’t see it.  The thing that really got a reaction out of you was his dog tags, though; you’d never seen him wear them before and there was something perfect about the way the silver chain dangled over the slight peek of collarbone visible above his neckline.  “Aren’t you warm wearing that much to bed?”

“No, it’s fine,” he dismissed.  You hoped he wasn’t wearing more just for your benefit.  Shirtlessness would’ve benefited you more, certainly.  In fact, now you felt kind of bad that you were just wearing a thin, silky short-and-tank set.  Hopefully it didn’t make him uncomfortable.

Getting up from the floor, you slipped under your covers and motioned for him to do the same.  He turned off your lamp first, stealing your last chance at a good view of the hand, and you heard him get comfortable on the floor.

“Thank you for this,” you mumbled quickly into the darkness.  “I don’t think I’d be able to fall asleep if you weren’t in here.

“Oh, of course,” he replied softly.  

“Goodnight,” you whispered.

“Goodnight,” he answered back, and his low, sleepy voice was somehow both soothing and energizing.

You weren’t sure if you even tried to fall asleep, or how long you laid staring out into the void of the darkness.  It was so dark in your room that you saw purple spots dancing in the corners like static as your eyes adjusted, incomprehensible shapes forming to make up for the lack of visual stimulation.  You wished that there was enough ambient light to be able to see Bucky’s shape on the floor and know he was there; instead, you settled for the subtle sound of his slow breathing.  When you heard him adjust slightly, you decided maybe just the breathing wasn’t enough to be sure it was really safe.

“Bucky?” you whispered under your breath.  “Are you awake?”

“Yes,” he answered, making you sigh with relief.

“I can’t sleep.”

“I thought you said you wouldn’t be able to sleep if I wasn’t here.”

“But I never said you being here would make me sleep,” you pointed out.

“Then I should go,” he decided.

“No, please,” you hissed, “don’t go.”

“Okay.”

You took a deep breath.  “Tell me something,” you requested.

“Tell you what?”

“I don’t know, anything.”

He paused for a moment.  “Will it help you sleep?”

“Maybe,” you shrugged.

Bucky sighed, and you heard him turn on his side.  “Want me to tell you a bedtime story?” he asked, sarcasm noticeable even in a whisper.

“Yes,” you announced with a smile.

“Okay,” he pondered, “um… once upon a time—”

“Good start,” you rolled your eyes.

“No interrupting!” he scolded.

“Sorry…”

“Anyways, once upon a time there was a princess, who lived in a castle in the Isle of Manhattan.”

“A castle?” you asked excitedly.

“A somewhat modest castle, but yes.  One with big golden gates and marble columns.  The princess didn’t live all alone in her castle though— at least, not all the time.  She had many royal attendants, and servants, and plenty of friends of course.  But the problem with being a beautiful, kind, generous princess is that sometimes people get too friendly and want to visit her in the castle when she’d rather be alone.  Thankfully, the princess had a last line of defense—”

“Let me guess, a knight in shining armor?”  Or more like knight with shining arm.

“Wish I could say so,” he disagreed.  “No, this princess needed something a little fiercer, and that was why a dragon guarded the castle.”

“A dragon?!”

“Mhmm.  A big, scary dragon with sharp teeth and big wings, that breathed fire on anyone who got in his way.  The thing about knights is that they’re noble, and handsome, and righteous.  But righteousness prevents people from doing bad things, and sometimes bad things need to be done to protect good things.  So, knights can’t protect princesses like they should.  That’s what dragons are for.  They’re mean and nasty— it’s their nature, after all— and sometimes you need somebody burnt up, so you call a dragon and he’ll deal with it for you.  And this dragon was the meanest and nastiest of them all, and he’d burnt a lot of people in his time.  Oddly enough, the princess was still nice to him, but she had a lot of knights and princes and kings who wanted her hand.  Good thing the dragon was there to pick off the worst ones.”

You giggled a little, even though your heart was racing.

“The dragon watched over the castle every night— well, five nights a week… cause the princess wanted weekends to herself— but, still, he was very dedicated and did his best to keep her safe.  Sometimes he would take her to whatever lavish ball she had been invited to that week; she would ride on his back as he flew there, even though he was pretty scared she would fall off or something.  And sometimes…”

Your breath caught at the pause, waiting anxiously for what would come next.  

“Sometimes the dragon wished he wasn’t a monster.  But if he wasn’t a monster, then he couldn’t keep her safe.  So, he resigned himself to a life outside the castle, because at least he could be near her— even if she was impossibly far away.”

You swallowed as you tried to process it, finding yourself at a complete loss for words.

“The end,” he whispered gently, before giving you a goodnight and saying your name in a way that he’d never said it before— at least, you’d never heard him say it that way before.  But you really, really hoped you’d get to hear it again.  You did manage to fall asleep eventually, dreaming about flying and wishing you didn’t have to wake up.

[ellana-ravenwood]

“My fake boyfriend is a billionaire ?!” - Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Synopsis : After a few shitty weeks of everything going wrong, you somehow find yourself faking a relationship with the one and only Bruce Wayne. 

That’s it. I did it. After 3 years posting stories on this platform, I finally succumb to one of the biggest fanfiction cliché of all time haha. The infamous fake boyfriend trope. And I really hope you will like it : 

My masterlist : @ella-ravenwood-archives

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The Gap Year of Disaster

Today, you were an utter mess, and you couldn’t care less.

You know, this kind of days where you wish you would just have stayed in bed ?

Where everything goes wrong and you just want to hide under your blanket and pretend you don't have any responsibilities ?

Well today…Today was most definitely this kind of day.

It was suppose to be your first day at an exciting new job and you were so psyched about it, that you hadn’t been able to sleep all night. 

You finally fell into a deep slumber during the very early hours of the day, and…

Of course you woke up late ! You didn't have time to take a shower, or to do your make-up nicely or even to brush your hair. But worst of all you didn't have time to get coffee !

When you got out with your bike….it was pouring outside. Ah but of course, because when one thing goes wrong everything has to follow. Everything WILL go wrong. Murphy's law or some stupid things like that !

It's in those moments you wish you had a car ! Because when it rained in Gotham…It felt like Noah was ordered to built another ark !

So, sleep deprived, soaked, in a bad mood and looking like a mess, you managed, by some miracle, to arrive at your job on time.

Only to discover that this wasn’t at all what you were expecting. It was NOT what was promised to you, which was experience in an exciting workplace and a way to make the most of it. 

Instead, it was a desk job where you ran errand for everyone. Amazing. 

This was supposed to be your first try at “real life”, this was why you took that gap year from college. 

“I want to find myself, find who I really am !” You told everyone around you, ignoring those who were negative and telling you you should finish your study first. 

Now, as you were stuck in a tiny cubicle with an endless list of coffee orders you had to get for everyone else, you felt like maybe they were right, and that this wasn’t quite the way you were going to “find yourself”. 

Then again, wasn’t it through hardship that this sort of things unlocked ? Wasn’t it with great determination and knowing how it was to struggle, that you were going to thrive ? That’s what they said in TED talks dedicated to “success”...

So far in your life, things had been rather normal. Not particularly easy, but not hard either. You grew up in a small town in New Jersey, no troubles on the horizon. You then moved to Gotham for college as you had a scholarship for Gotham’s University, and as you were about to start your third year you sort of questioned wether or not this was your path...

One of your favorite professor told you to maybe take a gap year. A few semesters off, to think things through. Taking advantage of it to do some soul searching and try to know what you really wanted and...It sounded wonderful ! 

That’s when you started to have job interviews in many different fields, and it took you three months to finally find something. Three very stressful months of wondering how long you could live off of your measly savings, and wether or not you’d have to move back in with your parents (anything but that !)...Not a very good start to that gap year for sure. 

And when you landed what you thought was going to be a great job, things definitely were looking up ! Ah, but the fact that you were chosen while you had NO experience and such, should’ve been your first warning that this was too good to be true. 

You were trying to stay positive though. Maybe it was only for the first day ? Maybe their coffee person was sick or something ? It’d get more interesting later ? Yes. Yes let’s keep a positive outlook on everything. 

Except right now, as your entire morning was made of you walking up and down the building (the elevator was not working, but of course), to the coffee shop at the corner of the street, and bringing back orders for people, you didn’t feel in the mood to try and stay cheery. 

And the worst in all that ? You didn't even get ONE cup for yourself…This “real life” thing was not starting very well. 

And so here you were, during your lunch break, looking like a mess, bag under your eyes and still wet from the rain (your trips up and down the street for coffee runs not helping drying yourself off), your morale at its lowest..And…

"That'll be 3 dollars and 50 cents for the large latte with triple espresso shot, m'am."

Catastrophe. 

Proof that things could ALWAYS get worst. 

As you were looking through your bag, you couldn't find your wallet !

Did you leave it at home ?! Maybe. 

People at your work gave you the money to buy them coffee (and not a single tips, bunch of cheapskates). And you didn’t notice you were missing that oh so essential part of your daily life...Your credit card. Or any type of money. 

Damn it ! 

“Um, excuse me miss, that’s 3,50 please ?”

“Oh yes yes, um, you know what I just-” 

“Here, miss, you dropped this.” 

As you were about to explain that in fact, you didn’t need coffee (even if when you asked for it you might’ve mentioned it being a question of “life or death”), too embarrass to admit you didn’t have the money to buy it, a...very handsome man handed you a twenty dollars bill. 

You were a hundred percent sure this wasn’t yours. You never carry lose cash like this. A quick look to his kind deep blue eyes, and soft smile, and you realize...

Oh. Great. A total (very handsome) stranger took pity of you. 

You probably looked even worst than you felt. You were about to say this was a mistake, but before you could, he gave the bill to the barista, and left with a last smile to you, taking his own cup of coffee away with him. 

Damn. You didn’t have time to say “thank you”. He vanished as fast as he appeared, disappearing in the crowd of the busy coffee shop. 

“Here’s your change, m’am.” 

“Ah you know what ? Keep it buddy. Thanks for the coffee.” 

“Wow, thanks !” 

You were pretty sure that barista never had such a big tip, and it oddly made you feel better, to make someone else’s day like that. Your grandma did always say that you found true joy from helping others...

Oh, yeah, ok, you just helped someone out, why was the universe so angry at you ?! 

As you turned around and started to leave, almost at the exist of the shop, mood a little better after this nice encounter with a (again, handsome) stranger, and the barista, you see him. 

Him. One of the reason you sort of decided to take a gap year. 

Him. 

Your ex-boyfriend, Eric, who cheated on you with your friend Monica. Needless to say, it wasn’t a good memory. And you hadn’t seen neither him nor her since you left college, especially not since you heard they actually got together. 

Your FRIEND. With your BOYFRIEND. And it went on for a while, before you finally discovered it (that day was as shitty as today...). 

Oh. And of course Eric wasn’t alone. She, was there too. The one you thought was your friend, and who stabbed you in the back like that. Both of them discarding you like a dirty old sock. 

Great. Really. Awesome. This day was going from “bad” to “please kill me.” 

“(Y/N) !” 

He looks surprised to see you, although also a little pleased. And it makes you want to punch him in the face. You don’t care if it’s because he wished things ended another way, they both betrayed your truth and then never even tried to talk to you again afterward. 

You’re not sure you would’ve forgave them, but at least, it would’ve shown they still cared about you in a way. Nobody chooses who they’re going to fall in love with (that, you’d soon discover for yourself). But she was your best friend. And he was with you for over a year. 

She’s a little more awkward than him, and smiles, clearly embarrassed. You always knew she was a bit of a coward, if she wasn’t, she would’ve face you, right ? 

And that’s when it happened. The decision that would forever change your life.

In this great moment filled with despair and awkwardness.

From the corner of your eyes, you saw that nice stranger who paid for your coffee. The handsome one. He didn’t leave the shop, but instead went to seat at a table that was a little further away than the rest of them. 

His eyes were glued to his phone, and you thought : “Well, fuck it, all this can’t get any worst right ?”

You were sort of hoping that, since he had been nice with you once and offered you those twenty dollars without knowing you (although you were very aware it was probably just pity), maybe he could help again ? 

Maybe it was the fatigue, the fact you were getting sadder and sadder, that you had a terrible day, and that you just saw two people you loved and who threw you away like you meant nothing (oh but not before being super fake to you, pretending they WEREN’T cheating behind your back)...maybe it was a combination of all of that, that made you act crazy. 

But here you found yourself, sitting at that stranger’s table, and saying, as he looked up from his phone clearly surprised : 

“How are you guys ? As you can see, I’m great.” 

You don’t dare to look at the handsome stranger, and hope he’ll be too stunned to say anything, and you can make your ex-friend and ex-boyfriend feel embarrass enough they’ll leave quickly. But then Monica says something that makes your heart skip multiple beats : 

“You...You know Bruce Wayne ?!” 

You turn to the man who gracefully paid for your coffee, and your eyes go wide. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. How did you NOT recognize him ?! Of course. Chiseled face, beautiful blue eyes, a suit that was definitely worth your entire year’s salary, a very charming aura...

Your hazy mind full of “fuck this day” didn’t register that THE Bruce Wayne, was the one who helped you out. How did you miss that ? His face had been plastered everywhere in Gotham for the past year, since he came back to the city, in fact. 

You hear yourself wish with all your might to be struck by lightning this instant, as the two assholes who hurt you so much are looking at you expectantly and are not about to live (of course, they just met celebrity BRUCE WAYNE !! Could someone be as unlucky as you were today ?!)

And that’s when you hear a chuckle, a beautiful deep chuckle, and finally turn to look at Bruce. He smiles at you, and takes your hand, saying : 

“Honey, who are your friends ?” 

Your brain go full “ERROR 404″, not quite able to grasp the fact that THE Bruce Wayne just ran with what you were trying to do. How ? How was this possible ? You initially went to sit with him in the hope that Eric and Monica would see you were totally ok and with a hot date, not quite sure still yet how you ever thought this was a good idea and...

It was turning out alright ?! 

HOW ?! 

“Oh um, I’m..Eric. And this is my gir...This is Monica.” 

What a piece of shit. Not even brave enough to call her his “girlfriend” when he cheated on you with her for months and months. You glare at him, unable to stop this gut reaction. 

And that’s something Bruce caught. 

In fact, as soon as you sat down, avoiding looking at him and nervously looking at those two people, Bruce sort of knew you were in an uncomfortable situation. One that made you take an irrational decision. 

And oh, he didn’t like the look Eric and Monica gave you. Like they felt superior as they caught you in a bad moment. Bruce hated, people who thought they were superior to others... 

And you clearly seemed in distress and in need of help so...He ran with it. 

Bruce had to pretend to be someone he wasn’t enough that it felt natural, to run along with what your hazy mind thought was a good idea. 

“Nice to meet you, are you friends with-” 

Damn it. He realized he didn’t know your name. Quick thinking saved him, and he managed to keep his tone even, as to hide his hesitation : 

“My love ?” 

His hand around yours felt warm and reassuring, and you still couldn’t believe that, not only a total stranger, but THE Bruce Wayne was helping you out like that. Especially after you had such a bad day. 

Him calling you his “love” made your exes feel very awkward, and they shake their head “no”, suddenly pretending they’re very busy and have to meet up with someone. They leave the coffee shop, clearly stunned, whispering things to each others that you knew were probably : “how did she get a guy like him ?!”

You can’t help but glare at them some more...But then your hand feels cold again, and you realize Bruce let go off it. Well. Duh. Of course he would. 

You turn to him, your feature softening, and say : 

“Are you an angel ?” 

Ah yes. Your defense mechanism. “Humor”. 

He chuckles, and says : 

“Well, I’m afraid not. My butler would think this is very funny. But thank you.” 

Awkwardly, you rub your neck, your free hand nervously turning your cup of coffee clockwise in your palm. You don’t really know how to end this, what : “thanks for that” and leave ? 

“Thanks for the coffee. And for um...Saving my ass, just there.” 

He smiles, and wow hello white teeth and charming dimples ?! 

“You’re very welcome. They looked like they were jerks.” 

“Haha oh you have no idea.” 

“Glad I could help.” 

“Thanks again. Really. This means a lot, especially since we don’t know each others. Well, I know you. Everyone in Gotham does haha. And ok I’m going to leave now, my lunch break is almost over and I don’t want to make this even more awkward.” 

You start to rise up, but he holds you back by catching your sleeve, and says : 

“Actually miss…?”

“(Y/L/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Miss (Y/L/N), you are kind of saving my life right now.”

“…I am ?”

A flash blinds you. Not a lightning, a camera flash. You turn, just in time to see a guy hastily hiding a camera and running away. 

“What the...” 

“A paparazzi. Good timing, for once.” 

“Huh ?” 

You wish you had some witty come back, or would just know what to say. But you’re confused. And this has been a really weird day. 

“I am sorry if this will seem forward, or like I helped you wanting something in exchange. But I promise I will make it worth your while if you just sit back down and listen to me for a few minutes.” 

You sit back down. More because you’re unsure your leg can still support you in this moment, than because he asked you to. With a smile he continues : 

“Thank you. So. Let me explain a little, and again, sorry if this is too forward. If you don’t want to help of course, I would understand. I’m about to ask you something rather odd, I guess. And I’ll clear things up with paparazzis. I also promise I did not help you with your “friends”-”

“They’re not my friends.” 

“I figured that much. And I promise I didn’t help you with them and ran with whatever you were trying, just so I could ask you this.” 

“Ask me what ?” 

“Well, you see…it’s arranged marriage season.”

“What ?”

“Every year, every single rich family try to make me marry their single daughters. It’s a very tiring season, but I’ve never been able to avoid it…I thought about having a fake fiancee before but could never find the right person.”

What he says does not register with you. His clear proposal doesn’t hit your brain. And you just stare at him, waiting for him to keep going. But he doesn’t, and by the way he looks at you, you slowly starts to understand where he’s getting at. 

You gasp, now pretty sure this is all a dream (or a nightmare) and say : 

“And I’m the right person ?”

“Well, yes. You seem to be a...“normal” person.”

“…Thanks.”

“In that case it’s good. It’s very good. It means that if I’m dating you, a woman that has nothing to bring me, then it must be true love.”

“Wow, stop with the flatteries already mister Wayne, I can’t handle it…”

Ah, your slight wits are back. Good sign that you’re regaining your senses. Everything that happened in the last ten minutes still feel like a bad dream, but you’re back in reality now. 

“No no no, I didn’t mean it in a demeaning way ! But it’s just, you’re not rich, and you’re not famous or have political ties. You’re just a regular person. So they won’t think I’m trying to trick them, even if I am, do you know what I mean ?”

“Gotcha. My broke ass person cannot bring you any value, so it must be love and not just an arranged thing they can break. Cool.”

There’s a slight silence. And you find it a little fun, to play a little bit with the famous Bruce Wayne. He seemed so confident and cocky on TV, you never thought you’d be able to make him look so guilty. 

“I’m sorry if I offended you.”

He says, clearly meaning it. But you shake your head and smile at him (and oh why does he feel his heart tightening slightly at your smile ?), and reassure him instantly (you feel a little bad, actually, to mess with him while he did just really do a huge favor to you while he had no obligations to) : 

“Haha, just messin’ around with ya Mster Wayne. I’m not bothered by it, it’s the truth. I’m really broke, and I don’t think you could find more “regular” than me right now. So, and because you really did save my ass from an extremely displeasing experience back there. And also because you allowed me to see those assholes’ face of surprise and “how did she manage that ?!”, tell me more about your plan, and let’s see if I can help you back.”

And so Bruce starts to explain to you how, every year, this beginning of Fall is the worst time ever, as it’s a moment where everyone seems to want to marry off their daughter. And of course, Bruce Wayne is a good “party”. 

The plan was fairly simple. You’d fake a relationship with him, so he could avoid all of this, and in exchange...Well. You’d gain a lot in exchange. 

This is how you started to really feel like you had fallen into a “romcom” by accident...You and Bruce, became an actual living trope. 

************

“And then when the “marrying season” is done, you can break it off.”

“I ?”

“Well yes, I can assure you you’ll gain quite a rep if you break up with me haha.”

You raise an eyebrow, unsure you like that sort-of overly confident side of him. But you can see something behind his eyes, like a slight unsureness as he looks back at you, trying to see if you’ll agree or not.

“I don’t really need a “reputation”.”

Breaking up with THE Bruce Wayne himself. For sure people would talk about it a lot, and maybe it would help open some doors for you ? But you felt a little odd taking advantage of this like that. 

Seeing that he hadn’t convinced you quite yet, he adds : 

“Of course, I will pay you.” 

What kind of Pretty Woman sort of nonsense was this ?! You were about to protest when he added, realizing how he sounded : 

“I mean, you ARE doing me a great service. You ARE going to have to act, you know ? An...actual job ? And I will be honest with you, it won’t be easy, to find yourself in the public eye. I think it definitely justify a salary.” 

Put that way, you had to admit that, well, yeah it sort of did. Especially since you knew how crazy tabloids were about Bruce Wayne. Becoming his “girlfriend” would definitely put you on the front lines. 

“And it would truly help me tremendously.” 

Your grandma always said it : “True joy comes out from helping others !” So. What if you benefit from it a little ? If it helps you financially, and you can get a little network out of it ? First rule of Alchemy (what a weeb) : “equivalent exchange” ! Plus, he did really help you with your coffee, but also with Eric and Monica so...

And hey, this gap year was meant to help you find what and who you wanted to be. Help you go through this little twenty-something crisis. And this ? Living a literal romantic comedy cliche by faking being someone’s girlfriend ? Well, it definitely felt like the kind of adventure that could help you figure things out.  

With a smile, you finally nod and shake his hand, not knowing quite yet in which mess you actually put yourself into...

Briefing. 

Like every “secret mission”, this one too needed a “briefing”. 

A little meeting to put all the rules down, and the goals too. 

And here you were, feeling very out of place in a huge conference room in the biggest and tallest building in Gotham : “Wayne Tower”.  

The concierge stared at you for a very long time, when you said you were there to see Mister Wayne. No “nobody” like you ever called for his boss. 

Suspicious, as it was his job, he called security on you...Until it was finally cleared up that you DID have a meeting with Bruce Wayne ! 

Both the concierge, and the security guys, stared at you as you left to take the elevators they indicated to you, wondering who the hell had the kind of credentials to go all the way up there to see their boss ?! They didn’t recognize you from anywhere, not a model, not a famous politician or CEO, just...A regular person ? 

That was odd. And they noticed, it was odd. Which you assumed was what Bruce was aiming for, but it felt so awkward, to walk through this huge hall under their scrutiny. 

You finally arrived on the right floor, and oh look, some more staring. 

From his secretary, this time. She was used to see women coming to see her boss. But they’d usually wear Prada, and have plunging necklines full of pearls and fanciness. They weren’t...like you. 

You felt like it was easy, to know that you were just a “normal” person. You were definitely not wearing any designer clothes, and you were pretty sure the way you carried yourself made you super obvious. 

Hence all the staring. You could clearly see in her eyes, that she was wondering who the hell you were... 

She had her answer when Bruce came out of his office, and made a gesture as if he was going to throw his arm around your waist, and kiss you (which made you downright panic). But then, he looked awkwardly at his secretary, and instead just shook your hand. 

Something that DID NOT go unnoticed by his secretary. 

You saw how her eyes widen, and how she clearly hitched to take her phone out and call everyone...and you realized Bruce did this awkward thing because he knew his secretary, and her tendency to be a little gossipy. 

You’d discover later, in fact, that he hired her entirely because he knew if he said something, she would pick up on it and it would help him control rumors and such. Clever. 

For the moment though, he took you to a large conference room with huge windows. 

“I’m sorry for the weird “hello” back there, I wanted Shirley to think I was embarrassed to display affection to you in front of her. Usually, I do not mind at all. So doing it would make her think that-”

“I’m someone special to you.” 

“Exactly !” 

He smiles widely as you understood his plan (not sure how you felt about it, then again, that’s why you were here for, making sure you knew where both of you stood in all this), and then tells you he’ll be back in a few minutes. 

You have time to feel anxious and stressed before he finally comes back. 

“Sorry for the wait.” 

“Oh no, I bet you’re a busy man.” 

“Yes well. Anyway. Let’s get to it shall we ?” 

“Yes.” 

“Ok. So. I thought we’d settle sort of a little contract, so neither of us ever feel uncomfortable ?” 

“Sounds good, mister Wayne.” 

“Yes well first, please call me Bruce.” 

“Only if you call me (Y/N).” 

Oh and you two were still on the path of “romcom cliches”, with this conversation. He smiles, nods, and continues : 

“Ok, then I thought we could-” 

And so your fake relationship started, with some little ground rules. Like he could only kiss you after you gave him permission, if you ever felt overwhelmed everything would be called off, etc etc. 

Most rules were in your favor, to be honest. And WOW the paycheck he was going to give you for this little farce...Hey, maybe this gap year was finally gonna get interesting ?

Meeting the Little Buddy. 

It was sort of necessary. By then, Dick had been his son, officially, for a few months. He wasn’t calling him “dad” yet (and Bruce didn’t particularly want him to, at the time...ah but everything change one day, right ?), but they were already family. 

And it was a needed step. 

It wasn’t in the little “contract” you made, and honestly you could’ve refused to meet him but...Well, you liked kids. In another life, it felt like you could’ve been a teacher (A/N : AH, like in this story ;) : “Can you be my dad’s girlfriend, please ?” ). 

And you’d feel awkward, to fake a relationship and not ever meet his boy. 

The first time he saw you, it was at the Wayne Tower, and his eyes widened as he exclaimed : 

“Wow you’re so pretty ! Are you Bruce’s girlfriend ? You’re too good for him, you know.” 

You could feel your heart melt, how adorable this little guy was, right ? You chuckled, and almost full on laughed as you saw how vexed Bruce was by the comment. 

Not that he thought he was too good for you, no, he was just a little unhappy his son was stealing the show, and thought he couldn’t land someone like you...Oh but that, you couldn’t guess at the time, of course. 

“Nice to meet you, Dick. I’m (Y/N). And...I’m not really his girlfriend.” 

“Can you be mine then ?” 

You laugh again. You and Bruce had decided to tell him the truth, Bruce assuring you that kid was good at pretending too. You answer : 

“No, I’m saving him from marriage proposal.” 

“Oooooh !” 

Good at pretending. Dick had no idea what you were on about, but he was very good at acting as if he knew. 

It’s only way later, that he finally got it. By then, he already accepted you as : “his dad’s girlfriend”, and even knowing the truth, there was no way to change his mind. And to be honest, out of everyone, little Dick Grayson was probably the most aware of what the situation truly was. 

He had a knack, to notice how people felt. 

A “family” outing.

Two months in, and it was going GREAT. Faking a relationship was actually pretty easy. All you had to do was hanging out with him (and he was very nice to hang out with), and when a paparazzi was around, quickly kiss his cheek, or hold his hand, or let him put his hand in your hair...All those cute things new couples do. 

Today was one such small date. 

You could see Bruce was nervous, though.

After hanging around with him that many times, you started to know him a little better. Started to know he wasn’t really that persona he portrayed publicly.

He was actually quite a dork. What a pity, nobody else would ever know his real self...Yet, it made you happy you were one of the few in on the secret.

“Ok, out with it mister, what’s up ?”

He looks at you with such surprise in his eyes, as if it was the first time someone guessed what he was feeling...and, well, yes. It was. It was the first time someone who wasn’t Alfred got it. Someone realized something was on his mind. And asked him about it, didn't just ignore and move on. Actually cared to know. 

“I-Um...”

“Well ? Come on, I think literally nothing can surprise me by now, given you know, I’m faking a relationship with a billionaire, and it’s like, my job now.”

He smiles, and he couldn't possibly know how soft his look was, as he gazed at you.

“I...well, people don’t quite believe in us because-”

“WHAT ?! With all the “dates” and kisses and lovey dovey shit we did ?!”

He chuckles at your reaction, loving how honest you always were, and adds :

“The problem apparently is that you weren’t seen with my son yet, so many don’t believe we’re serious.”

“Oh...”

You met Dick. Because it felt like a necessary step to yours and Bruce’s scheme. And you knew he knew this was all fake...But neither of you wanted to confuse the boy in any way so he was kept mostly out of the plan.

“I talked to him, and it’s actually really up to wether you’re comfortable with it or not. I know he wasn’t part of our contract, and I should’ve probably thought about it, I’m sorry. But um...If you’re ok with it, we could..Do things with him, too ?”

Bruce is really nervous; And you’re pretty sure no one but you (and maybe Alfred) ever saw him like that. It’s kind of...sweet. But you let the silence linger for too long and he hurries to say :

“You really don’t have to ! It’s ok if they don’t think we’re that serious and I get some proposals. I can manage ! You’re still a great help right now. It was just an idea. Dick is a very social kid, he would go along with anything and loves to do activities outside. He would be fine. But if you’re not then we can-”

“No. No no it’s...It’s ok Bruce. The few time I saw him, Dick did seem absolutely a peach to be around. And I always have fun with you, so sure, let’s organize a little something and show those bastards we’re totally real.”

You chuckle a little, your smile and carefree face making his heart skip a beat, for some reasons...Bruce also decided to ignore how happy it made him, to know you were always glad to be with him, and instead, he smiled and settled a date.

************

And here you were. In one of Gotham’s biggest park, opening a basket full of delicious sandwiches made by the one and only Alfred. Pretending to have a great family outing.

“Hey, hey look !”

Dick was absolutely amazing, at acting as if you were really a thing. As if you were really a “family”. Right now, he was doing flips and cartwheels, demanding your attention with avidity.

Bruce made sure to always hide his face from pictures (he was GREAT at noticing where paparazzis were hiding, a life of practice, you assumed), as he wanted to keep as much as he could his son’s privacy (especially after he made all the headlines when he lost his parents).

It was quite adorable. And...You were really having fun.

Dick was such a lively kid, and he was full of talents. The food was good, and it was so comfortable around Bruce. It felt so natural.

This wasn't all that bad. To fake being a family. A good use of your gap year, really. 

You purposefully decided to ignore the glint in the boy’s eyes. The way you sort of suspected for him, this was getting real, and not only pretend.

You and Bruce purposefully ignored it, actually. And you both felt shitty for it. Because not only were you risking to break that little boy’s heart when it was all over but...It was too hard to accept that maybe, maybe he was right.

And that all of this ? Might’ve not been as fake as you’d love to repeat yourself.

First Official outing. 

First gala. You were terrified. So far all you had to do was hang out with Bruce in the afternoon, there and there. It mainly consisted in him buying you coffee, and keeping the addiction to caffeine real, while talking about anything that would come to your mind. The conversations between you two was always fluid and pleasant. 

Or you’d go out with him and Dick, to do some fun things like mini-golf or catching a movie. Nothing too big and scary. It was mainly just you guys, no one else. 

It seemed like he knew where the paparazzis would be (most likely because he was “anonymously” tipping them off himself), and he’d take you on random short dates when he had time in between his work, slowly fueling the rumors Bruce was not a heart to steal anymore. 

And that he was dating a “commoner” ! (He hated this name for you, while you really didn’t mind that much). 

And this gala, was what made it completely official. Finally. It was your idea, to take things “slow”, and hang out with him and his son BEFORE hanging out in public areas like this. 

It was clever, really. To make it seems like you were trying to “hide” your relationship by being low-key, to then finally announce everything in public like that, at such an event. 

Bruce went to get a drink for the both of you, and you were looking around you, horrified at the mere idea that someone would come talk to you. 

But for some reasons, nobody seemed to dare. Maybe Bruce made sure that people would leave you alone ? Even as if you were clearly the talk of the evening, all eyes on you, and not even trying to be subtle ? 

You knew he did the same with little Dickie. That he made sure he was safe from the paparazzi and that no unsolicited journalist would come around him.

Thinking of it, where was the little one ? Usually, according to Bruce, whenever there was a gala he would spend his entire time near the food table, eating as much as he could, and he would come home feeling nauseous because of it...Haha sounded like Dick alright. That kid was so-

Oh oh.

Who was that sleazy looking gal talking to him ? He seemed so uncomfortable, yet too polite to brush her off...Oh no, she wasn’t one of them, was she ?

Without thinking twice about it, wether it was your place to do what you were about to do or not, you resolutely walked towards them.

“-Think it’s because he relates to you ? As both of you lost your parents in horrific situations, you know ?”

“I-I don’t know m’am.”

When you saw Dick’s distressed face, and his eyes slowly filling with tears, there was no doubt in your mind.

This woman was not supposed to be there, and was definitely not supposed to talk to that child...

This woman was a - shiver of disgust- tabloid journalist.

Your blood boiled as you saw her take a picture of the teary eyed Dickie, and you were standing protectively in front of him before you could even think about it. When you felt the boy clutch to your sleeve, hiding behind you and holding on for dear life, you knew you wouldn’t regret it.

“Can I ask you why you’re talking to that boy, please ?”

“What, it’s illegal to talk to fellow guests now ?”

“Lady, you’re well in your thirties. He’s eight. You have no right talking to him. Not only is it weird, but I know what you’re doing.”

“Oh, and pray tell, what am I doing, lovey ?” 

“You’re trying to get a story out of him. And you should be ashamed of yourself. He’s eight ! And from what I heard, you were asking some very disgusting things back there !” 

“I-”

“Shut up.”

Your words came out harsh and determined, and the woman was so shocked she stayed silent for a while. You crouch down to Dick’s level, and ask : 

“Are you ok, my little buddy ?” 

He nods weakly, and then burst into tears as he launches himself in your arms, clinging to you tightly. You turn your head towards the woman, glaring at her so fiercely she doesn’t dare to take a picture of the scene, even as she knows she could sell them for a golden price. 

“You should be ashamed of yourself. He’s just a child !” 

The woman was about to say something else, something you knew would fuel your anger further, when Bruce arrived, and it was clear from his face that he was not happy. 

A quick look to you holding his crying son in your arms, and to the lady with the camera in her hands, and he understand what happened. With a cold voice you never heard him use before, he says : 

“I suggest you leave the area now, before I force you to.” 

There was something almost scary, in his demeanor. Almost like...No. Impossible. In any case, you didn’t worry about it much, drawing soothing circles with your hand on Dick’s back, trying to calm him. 

People around quickly stopped staring as they met Bruce’s assassin glare. It was not secret, that he was very protective of his son. And of his new girlfriend, apparently. 

You picked the little boy in your arms (Dick, at the time, was still so tiny), and Bruce comes closer, trying to soothe him too. And it really looked like all this was real...

Dick fell asleep in Bruce’s arms shortly after that, and was still there when it was time for the gala official pictures. Not wanting to wake him up, for once, Bruce allowed people to photograph the boy, as long as they did not frame his face. 

He laid his free hand on the small of your back, and just like you got used to those past months, you pretend to be head over heels for him and have one of your own arm around his waist.  

“Would you please allow me to kiss you on the cheek, for the cameras ?”

His question is so sweet, softly whispered in your ears. And you felt like a tease tonight, and maybe a little tipsy too. You tell him : 

“On the cheek only ? Let’s give them a show no ? Let them forget about what happened with Dick.”

Of course, you’re only joking, but there’s a light in Bruce’s eyes you haven’t seen before and...It disappears quickly. He chuckles, of that low chuckles that would charm anyone in the world, and says :

“I don’t want to force you to do anything you wouldn’t want to. Actually kissing me, I realize, might be too much.”

You know he caught on your joke, but you can’t brush off that light in his eyes that ignited when you suggested to kiss him...You don’t know why, and it feels you’re not controlling your own words, as you hear yourself say :

“Oh because kissing you would be such a horrible thing wouldn’t it ? Oh my, you’re only one of the handsomest man in Gotham, a rather attractive fella, how could I handle kissing you ? So disgusting !”

Your tone is teasing, and a little bit challenging. He catches on that, too. He answers : 

“But I am merely here to serve. I will do as you wish. You only have to say the words.” 

His smile fills your vision. His face. And the way he softly holds your waist, even as his other arms is carrying his son (the man was BUILT). And you think...Well, fuck it ! It was time for the first (fake) kiss, right ? 

Right here, in front of the cameras, where everyone was seeing you. Making it go full circle. Making it “official”. 

“Kiss me then, if you dare.” 

You simply say. Releasing a breath you were unaware you were keeping in. And he feels his heart squeeze, and as if he’s sweating a bit. When was the last time he was nervous about kissing a woman ? 

He couldn’t remember. 

And then he kisses you, the flashes of cameras slowly fading away as his lips melt onto yours. 

Wow. What a perfect, and nice, first kiss. 

As fake as it might be.

Your room. 

Your room at Wayne Manor was bigger than your entire apartment. 

You and Bruce decided that sometimes, so you wouldn’t raise any suspicion, you’d sleep at the Manor. Paparazzi were so on top of everything, it would seem weird if he was in a “committed relationship” and you never slept at his place. 

So Alfred settled a room for you. 

Oh. Alfred ! You met him not long ago, and he was the best ! 

It felt like he could magically guess what you wanted when you wanted it, and magically appeared with that warm cup of tea you craved, or that meal you’ve been thinking about all day. 

But beyond that, he was genuinely nice and made sure to make you as comfortable as possible. He showed you around, and his conversation was so pleasant ! 

You could actually see a lot of Bruce in him. Or, rather, it was evident that Alfred had raised Bruce most of his life, because they had a lot of similar mannerism, and were both kind and caring (Ah, imagine if Superman knew what you thought of Bruce, how crazy it’d sound to him eh ? But of course, that you’d discover way WAY later). 

You never went to explore much when it was time to go to bed, too afraid to get lost. This place was huge, and you never quite had a good sense of orientation. 

One could only wonder, what would you have discovered if you ever dared to wake up during the night, and explore his home ?

Build a Bear. 

Sometimes, Bruce really had to wrack his brain for original date ideas. Ever since he came back to Gotham, his dating days consist of pretending to sleep with every model in the World. 

He’d take them to fashion shows, to galas, to charity events...All very public places, unsuitable for a “serious” relationship like he was hoping to make yours and his pass for. 

Enter : Clever little Dickiebird, who always had an idea (and who might’ve been the best wingman someone like the Batman needed...that, of course, he’d discover it way, WAY later) :

“You can take her to a build a bear !” 

“Build...a bear ?” 

“Yeah, you know. You go and you make your own teddy bear !” 

“I do know, I took you to get Chester - the name of Dick’s favorite plushie toy now, and maybe with which he slept-. But...For a date ?” 

“What ? It’s cute and intimate !” 

“Huh ?” 

It has been a long time, since Alfred Pennyworth had to hold his laughter in that hard, and try to stay impeccably neutral. And there, faced with his master Bruce, who was known as the “ultimate womanizer”, the “perfect playboy”, and who was currently taking advice from his eight years old son...It was really hard to keep a straight face. 

It was also incredibly adorable. Especially how Bruce seemed to genuinely listen to the little one, unaware that he seemed actually way too interested for things just to be for his “fake relationship” to be more convincing. 

Not that Alfred was going to tell Bruce anything. 

“Dick, you know (Y/N) isn’t really my girlfriend, right ?” 

The way the boy talked about taking you to a date, felt to Bruce like he was forgetting this was all fake. And it was important to remind him.

But Dick had to invoke all the efforts in the world to not roll his eyes as to say : “sure she isn’t”, by now, it was oh so obvious to everyone but you and Bruce that there was a very real thing forming between you two. 

Instead, he said : 

“But you’re suppose to make the public really believe it right ? If you take her to build a bear, I can assure you they will think you guys are the real deal.” 

Bruce pondered this for a little bit, and realized that his son was right. It did seem like a cute and intimate date to bring your girl to, even if she was your fake girl...

Ah. Bruce forgot his own words. “Dick is great at pretending.” He is. He really is. Just like right now, he was pretending his idea was completely innocent, while he knew it would bring you two ever so closer. 

That whenever you’d see those bears you were going to build in your home, you’d think of one another. And remember fondly of the memory. 

And oh. Oh that boy was right. 

Your bear was sitting proudly on your couch, and every time you saw it, you remembered how clumsy Bruce had been, filling his own bear up. And how cute he was, carefully thinking of his options. 

And every time Bruce saw his own bear, that Alfred, for some reason, settled in the Batcave on the “trophy shelves” (and for some reason Bruce didn’t take it off of it...), he couldn’t help but think how he had genuine fun that day. 

Genuine fun, for the first time in what felt like ages. And how your smiling and giggling face didn’t seem to leave his mind, whenever he saw that bear...

Conniving traitors. 

“We both agree, he’s in love with her right ? He’s just too dense to realize it.” 

“Oh yes, young Master Richard, he definitely is. And he is dense, at times.” 

“Should we do anything ?”

“No more than what you’re already doing.” 

“Which is ?” 

“Which is continuing to push them in the...Right direction.”

“Oh ! I get it ! I’ll keep going Al’!” 

“And I’m sure you’ll make miracles, young master.” 

Dick’s smile to the old butler was so pure and happy, that Alfred had a hard time keeping his composure once again. 

And oh. Oh how he wish they were right, and that his Master Bruce would FINALLY allow himself to be happy... 

Rumors and Truth 

Bruce was just a tiny bit older than you. 24, according to his wikipedia page. 

And you couldn't help but be a little jealous, as you were looking at the page to re-enroll yourself in Gotham’s university, knowing he was done with college.

Then again, he was obviously a genius and would’ve been done faster than you anyway, even if you were the same age, since he finished his PhD just the year before, while most people don't even START their doctorate until they're around 23/24. 

Mmmm. Made you think. Was this just yet another rumors about the man ? 

Maybe not, after all it was proven he started college at age 14, and in Ivy Leagues ones, all across the world. 

From Cambridge, to Oxford, without forgetting La Sorbonne (A/N : by the way, this is canon haha, Bruce really did start college that early and went to many different places, and honestly, is anyone surprised ?). 

This wasn't really something you absolutely couldn't believe, compared to other crazy rumors about him. And you knew he WAS smart. 

By then, you couldn't count how many things were circulating about him, and how hard it was to know the truth from just plain old rumors. 

He had over a thousand lovers, he had MORE than one PhD (impossible, right ?), he had died once but survived somehow, he was part of a cult, he often lost his status as a billionaire because he gave so much money to charities and such, but his companies meddled in so many areas that his bank account was always filled more and more…

Honestly that last part didn't really surprise you. You saw him gave his money away to things he cared about (like education and medical care) without a second thoughts, so the fact he constantly oscillated between "billionaire" and "multi-millionaire" didn't really surprise you, not when you knew him like you did now. 

You totally trusted the rumors that said that by now, he gave away more than he currently owned. It sounded like him alright…But how to know the truth from the downright crazy ? Did he really have a PhD or was this just an addition to how special and different Bruce Wayne was in Gotham ? What kind of PhD did he have anyway ? 1000 lovers, really ?!

So many questions. And not a lot of answers. Even if you grew closer (as friends, of course), Bruce was still somewhat of a mystery to you. 

He never really tried to dismiss rumors, even the bad ones (unless they touched his son). Which made you wonder if they were true or not. And you really, really, for some reasons, wanted to know more about him...

“Is something the matter ?” 

He asks. Oh goddamn you, day dreaming on one of your regular “coffee date”. 

You shake your head, sipping on your drink and say : 

“Was just thinking about...Tabloids.” 

“Ah.” 

He frowns. For understandable reasons.

“I was just thinking about wether some rumors were true or not.” 

“What do you think is not true ?” 

“I don’t really know, and you never really say a rumor is false so it’s hard to know.” 

“Do you want to know anything in particular ?” 

Bruce knows it’s dangerous, to let you enter his private life like that. There’s a reason, after all, why he never dismisses any rumors. 

It helped build his fake persona, and take away any suspicions that he might be the infamous Batman. 

But he felt weak, around you. As if he just wanted to please you, no matter what. Sometimes, he felt dangerously close to just tell you : “ask me anything and I’ll tell you the truth”, even if it meant revealing his night activities...

Crazy, right ? 

He knew it was. And that he shouldn’t let it happen. Yet here he was, asking if you wanted to know something. Craving your attention. It felt so unlike him. But...You seemed to unlock a certain part of him. 

The one that didn’t die with his parents, and remained hidden. The one that was the old little Bruce, full of hope, honesty and happiness. Full of wish for the future...Even if he knew there was none. 

“How was college, for you ?” 

You hear yourself asking, really wondering if it was true he was 14 when he started, and if it was...How different you guys were, right ? You were 21 right now, and taking a gap year after two years of college...When he was your age, he had already finished a master (or even maybe two). 

"My college years were actually pretty boring, and unlike some rumors say, weren't particularly wild. I was really young."

"Ah, I heard the rumors."

"Those are true, I'm afraid haha."

"Afraid ? You're a genius !"

Which is why you found, more and more, his "himbo" persona to be odd. WHat was Bruce Wayne trying to hide ? Mmm…

Bruce recognized that look in your eyes. The look of someone who was onto something, and it was too frightening to let it happen. So he said :

"Yes well, I feel I missed a lot, during those years. Which is why I make it up now hahaha !"

His boisterous laughter seemed genuine, and totally fooled you. You couldn't always be on top of everything eh ? And this, did answer your question about his himbo persona…Oh, Bruce was good.

And he knew it. He trained for years, to make sure nobody would ever even suspect him to be Batman.

But he had to be careful with you. He knew it. It was obvious. You weren't that easy to fool…

The Day Batman saved you. 

The fact he had to be careful with you was confirmed not long after. When, as Batman, he came to your rescue.

He should’ve known, that even with a voice changer, and a mask covering most his face, plus a demeanor that was completely different from his usual one, you’d still get suspicious...He should’ve known because he, by then, knew you quite well. 

But, what ? Was he suppose to just let you get mugged ? 

He couldn’t. 

Even if in the grand scheme of things, it would’ve been better, and he would definitely intervene if it got too rough...He couldn’t. 

He couldn’t bear the thought of you getting hurt, or feeling distressed.

He knew this was stupid. That he shouldn’t get so attached. That muggings weren’t really his area of expertise, that to stop them, he had to hit the big bosses. He knew. Small thugs weren’t his target. He had a much bigger vision. And rationally, he should be somewhere else right now. 

Yet he couldn’t resolve himself to. Because, and that was a dangerous thought and feeling, he was in l- 

“Why are we spying on your girlfriend ?” 

Dick’s voice takes him out of his reveries, good. It WAS getting dangerous. Still keeping you in his field of vision (you were slowly going back to your apartment, a few minutes still, and he could leave to do other things knowing you were safe and sound in your home), he answered :  

“We’re not spying on her, we’re making sure she’s safe. And she’s not my girlfriend, you know that.” 

“Oh yeah ? We’ve been following your “totally not girlfriend” since the night started, awfully looks to me like we’re um, you know, stalking her.”

“We’re not.” 

“Suuuuuuuuuure.” 

Bruce gives an annoyed look to his son, who had way too big a smug face right now, and says : 

“The night is calm, if something comes up we’ll go. But right now, it’s alright. And it has been made official, that she and I are a couple.” 

“Fake couple.” 

“Fake one to us, not to the public eye.” 

“Ooooooh !” 

Connections were quickly made in the boy’s head, and he understood why they were following her. After all, this was Gotham. And if THE Bruce Wayne had ONE known lover...Well, it was easy to know it’d attract some nasty business. 

Dick was about to make a smug remark of which he had a talent for, when it happened. He pointed at you, fear in his eyes, and Bruce focused your way again. 

“Stay here.” 

“What why ?! I wanna help her too !” 

“Because she’s too smart not to put two and two if she sees you with me. She knows us in our day lives. She’ll recognize us for sure, if we’re together.”

“Oh...”

“Just stay still, ok ?” 

“Ok.” 

Without a second thought, Bruce jumped down in the street down below, under Dick’s worried eyes. If anything happened to you, he knew his dad would never be the same again. 

And he knew he couldn’t bear to lose yet another person he cared about. Even loved. Yes. Yes Dick loved you, as if you really were part of his family...

The months of “faking” family outings made it so. Your worst fear happened. Dick was getting attached, hardcore. And he really hoped you and Bruce would figure out you were actually in love with each others before the end of your “contract”, and before his sometimes very dense dad would decide to let you go...

For now though, he was anxiously looking at Bruce making his way to you, after he spotted a suspicious group of men genuinely stalking you. 

************

“Hey pretty girl, can we talk ?” 

You stop in your track, turning around, cursing yourself for not having the instinct to just take off running. Oh. But you can see at least one of them has a gun. You can’t run faster than a bullet... 

“Ah it is you, isn’t it ?” 

You don’t answer, knowing what they mean. Bruce sort of warned you against this. But you didn't take his warnings seriously, and here you were, going home at night, something he definitely told you not to do. 

You just couldn’t sleep that night, and needed a walk...And here you were. 

“You’re gonna come nicely with us, right ?” 

“I dont’ think so.” 

Uh ? You’re pretty sure that weird robotic voice wasn’t yours. Even if that’s exactly what you wanted to say. And that’s...oh wow. 

That’s when you see him. Batman. 

Immediately, the atmosphere grow even tenser. And you can see the thugs who wanted to take you with them fearfully looking at him. 

“This has nothing to do with you Batman, leave us alone, we didn’t do anything wrong !” 

“It has everything to do with me. Leave.” 

“We have to-You don’t understand. We have to take her to-” 

“Nowhere. Leave.” 

Even if he was protecting you, you had to admit that, that dude was frightening. He had his back to you, and even then, he looked so intimidating and tall and broad...

Bruce was tall and broad too. But he was soft and sweet, not scary at all.

“OH MY GOD LOOK OUT !!” 

One of the thug had a gun pointed at Batman. Right at his head. He didn’t have the time to enforce his helmet yet, and if he shot around his mouth, he was done for...

A rock coming out of nowhere hit the thug right in the face. 

Coming out of nowhere ? To you, maybe. But Bruce knew that this was little Dickie’s doing. “Robin always has Batman’s back”, he said often...

For the time being, the one taking his gun out being knocked out triggered a “fight or flight” reaction in the others, and as two took off running (and were mysteriously hit by rocks too, knocking them out), three decided to attack Batman. 

Bad move. 

Very bad move. 

In a matter of second, it was over. 

He turns to you, and it’s hard to discern any emotions with his lighted eyes and mask. He asks : 

“Are you alright, (Y/N) ?” 

“How-How do you know my name ?”

“Well, you’re Bruce Wayne’s girlfriend, right ?” 

There was no hesitation in Bruce’s voice as, as soon as he pronounced your name, he knew he messed up...but he trained himself to think quickly. And this “fake” relationship was a perfect excuse, of course. Everyone in Gotham knew about you two, by now. 

“Oh, right, ok.” 

You seemed a bit disappointed, and Bruce couldn’t quite understand why...

It only hits him later, as he was going to bed, why you looked like that. And it made hi heart beat widely. Because he was pretty sure that it was because you sort of hoped Bruce talked to “Batman about you...Oh...Oh this was getting dangerous. 

But of course, Bruce had a reputation to be the one funding Batman’s gadget (a really good cover for the fact he was actually Batman). So they’d know each others...

But right there and then, as he just saved you, you felt so stupid, hoping that Bruce would’ve talked to you to Batman. Why would he ? How the hell would your name even show up in a conversation between Bruce Wayne and Batman (but oh, if you knew you occupied his thoughts many times, and who he really was, maybe you’d feel less bad ? It was, in a way, Bruce talking about you to Batman, right ?). 

You smiled weakly and shyly at this impressive being in front of you, and thanked him one more time. He nods, smiling too (oh ?), and bid you farewell. 

Ah. But Bruce didn’t notice your eyes go wide, as he took off with his grappling hook, and you caught the side of his face in a certain light...

Fake ?

"You know, he smiles more when you’re around.” 

Dick tells you once, you look at him curiously, as he continues : 

“And before you say it’s “all pretend”, let me tell you there’s a difference between this smile and the fake one. Look, that’s how he pretend.” 

On that note, he looked at you and smiled widely, exaggeratedly, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. And it was so like how Bruce portrayed himself in public, that it made you chuckle. 

It also scared you a little. 

Not because there was a possibility Bruce did smile more around you, but because as that little boy was being silly, and now imitating his adopted father further and oh so perfectly...You felt a surge of love for him. 

And that wasn’t good. 

Because the day, which was coming soon now, you’d have to “dump” Bruce Wayne, you wouldn’t be able to see that little one again...why would you ? 

It’d be too weird, right ? Someone like you, once “broken up”, would have no reasons or ways to ever interact with billionaire Bruce Wayne or his son ever again. 

That little boy was the sweetest child you ever met. He suffered a great loss so early in his life, and there he was, making you laugh and being nice by saying you made his dad genuinely smile. 

It hurt, to know that one day, you wouldn’t see him again. That he’d grow up, and you wouldn’t know what he became. 

You were sure he was destined to become a great man, and you wished you could see it...No. No this was bad. This was so bad. 

“I mean it you know.” 

His little voice brings your attention back to him. 

“I think you make him happy. With you, it feels he can be himself. He laughs more, really laughs. And it’s often that he tells me “oh this makes me think of (Y/N)” and calls you. He doesn’t need to call you for the fake relationship thing, right ? Yet he does. That means something. I think he likes you.” 

You shake your head, smiling at this little boy’s wild imagination. No way. No way was THE Bruce Wayne falling for you in any way. Were you guys becoming real friends ? Sure. But it definitely stopped there. Right ?

Oh but if only you knew Dick had a knack to see this kind of things, and to guess people’s real feelings. If only you knew, that yes, Bruce was starting to fall for you...It would make the next episode way less painful for you. 

“Catch me dead before you catch me catching feelings” - You to yourself, a few days before starting a fake relationship with THE Bruce Wayne. 

“Fuck you” - You to yourself, almost six months in faking a relationship with Bruce Wayne. 

This was...bad. 

Soon enough, you and Bruce will break this entire deal off, you will “dump” him, and you’d go on your separate ways. And...

This was bad. 

Why ? WHY COULDN’T YOU JUST HANG OUT WITH THIS AMAZING CHARMING MAN AND THAT’S IT ? Why ? WHY DID YOU HAVE TO GET OUT THERE AND CATCH....

Catch...

Catch those body shivering “feelings”. 

Not just for Bruce though. But for the little buddy too. 

You felt yourself fall for Bruce slowly, and as if it was completely out of your control. But you also felt like if Dick wasn't in your life anymore...You wouldn’t feel whole again. Like he was sort of your son, too, by then. 

This was so bad. How did you get yourself in this mess ? What was that FIRST rule you gave yourself when all this started ? 

Right, “Catch me dead before I catch feelings”. Damn it. 

Thanks GOD the “marrying season” was finally coming to an end. Both you and Bruce settled you’d wait a few weeks after it to make your break-up official, so nobody would be tempted to cancel any wedding plans to try and force their daughter onto him.  

And it couldn’t happen soon enough. 

Being around him now, faking being in love, was torture to you. 

Kissing him knowing he felt nothing. Holding his hand in public while you knew in your heart he was just putting a show still. And hanging out with him feeling that you had absolutely no chance of this ever evolving...

It hurt.

It hurt so bad. 

And you were slowly hoping you never agreed to being his fake girlfriend. Being a living cliche, the money and the fame were REALLY not worth the heartache. 

So not worth it...

The end...?

"Well mister Wayne, it has truly been a pleasure to be your "girlfriend" haha. Seriously, I had a lot of fun, and a little revenge on life. You know, I saw Eric and Monica not long ago. They tried to become my friends again, knowing I was with you. It was great, to ignore them like they ignored them. You’re right, they’re really not worth it. And honestly I still don’t think we’re even after they hurt me like they did but...In the end, they looked so outraged. Win-win, really. Thank you very much."

"Thank YOU, for playing along and doing more than you bargained for. You really saved me a lot of hassle and…I had fun, too."

Your taxi was pulling in front of the Manor, and honked as he parked. Clearly, not a very patient driver.

"Well, see you around, Bruce ! If you're not too busy, you know…I kinda consider you a friend by now ?"

"Me, too."

Bruce lied. A "friend" ? No, it couldn't cover and explain all his feelings for you. A "friend". How ridiculous.

As you walked away, giving him a last smile, Bruce felt a pang in his chest.

A painful and yet happy one. A longing one. One that told him that "friend" wasn't what he wanted to be…Not anymore…

But was there really a future for you and him ? Probably not. His nightly activities would get in the way. You deserve more than the life he could give you. Being his "fake" girlfriend, you only took part in his public matters. Part in a fake world full of nice things, that was far from his actual life.

"Friend", he wished he could be more to you than this.

But he knew.

He knew that for your own good, he had to stay away. And oh, oh how he wished he could be more than just your "friend" or "fake" boyfriend. 

Yet he watched as you walked away. Without doing anything. 

He watched you leave, and felt the hole in his heart expand a little more. But didn’t try to catch you, or stop you from leaving. 

And your taxi was already far, now. On its way to Gotham. 

"So you gonna run after her oooor…??"

Dick's little voice takes him out of his reveries.

“Mmm ?” 

“(Y/N). Are you gonna run after her, or stand there looking like a sad puppy for the rest of your life ?” 

“I do not look like a sad puppy.” 

“Yes you do, and you know it. Come on dad, why are you doing this ?” 

This was the first time Dick called him dad. Which didn’t go unnoticed to Bruce. It meant...It meant something was definitely happening. He felt it in his heart. Something that was dangerous. Oh so dangerous. 

Hope. Like the “old Bruce” had. Hope. Full of it. Before his parents were murdered in front of him, for no reasons. Meaningless. 

Hope. 

To have a family again. Ah. But...Being with you was impossible. And Dick would be enough. He would. He was already enough... 

“How long are ya gonna torture yourself exactly ?” 

That boy was too smart for his own good. Bruce said : 

“I’m not. I just...I can’t be with her.” 

“I cAn’T bE wITh hEr !! ...Why ?!” 

“You saw what happened, when it was made official we were together. She almost died.” 

“And you saved her. Your point being ?” 

“Dick...”

“Don’t -he takes a mock Bruce voice- “Dick” me mister ! You’re afraid to be happy, and I won’t have it. You gave me another chance to have a family. A dad. And I’m not about to let my dad punish himself for feeling good. You told me yourself my parents would like for me to be happy. Well yours would too, you big idiot ! So now, you listen to me.” 

Dick, meaning business, jumps on the stairs’ bannister to sort of be on eye level with Bruce, and says, pointing his finger at him : 

“You take one of those fancy useless sport car, and you run after her. Capish ?” 

There’s a moment of silence. During which Bruce is unsure of what to do. And then...Then he smiles at his son. 

His son. 

“Capish”, he simply says, and he rushes towards the garage’s entrance, under Dick’s happy look. 

Success. 

Bruce’s car was leaving the estate, when Alfred joined Dick at the front door. 

“You did it, Master Richard.” 

“I hope I did !” 

“Oh you did. You did. Thank you. Thank you for taking care of my son...”

Dick turned to Alfred, who couldn’t keep a straight face this time. Small tears gathered in the old man’s eyes, and sweet little Dick did not hesitate one second before jumping into his arms and giving him one of his famous “Grayson special” hug. 

It’s real. 

Back to square one. 

You. A bad day. Looking like a mess (this time not because of the rain, but because you cried a lot). Your gap year almost over and still not knowing who you were. With no coffee, but at least, you had a tub of ice cream. 

You already missed Bruce. And Dick. And Alfred. 

You couldn’t believe those six months of “faking” would end up meaning so much to you, and feel so devastating as they ended. 

You wish you had never met Bruce. And that you’d been ridiculed by Eric and Monica, that your life would still be pathetic...Pathetic maybe, but at least, your heart wasn’t completely shattered. 

You don’t hear the hurried knocks on your door, at first. Entranced by your own sadness. It’s only when they become loud and insistant you react. 

You really hope it’s not a journalist. They sort of tried to talk to you so many times, since you “dumped” Bruce...You knew he made sure that they’d stay away, but some were particularly persistent. 

Including that awful woman from the charity, who was asking Dick those horrible questions. “Vicky Vale”, was her name, apparently. What a witch. 

Clearly, the knocking wasn’t gonna go away, so you stood up, settled your tub of ice cream on your coffee table, and went to the door, ready to fight if need be. 

But there was no need for fights. 

At least, not in the literal sense of the term. 

“Bruce ?” 

He seems out of breath. Incredible, given how in shape he was. He doesn’t really leave you any time to say anything else, as he blurts out :

“I was wrong.”

He blurts out out of nowhere, and you’re even more confused. Before you could ask what was all this about, he adds : 

“I was wrong. When I said you were the right person because you were “normal”. You’re everything, BUT “just a regular person”. You’re the most fantastic woman I’ve ever met. You decided to help a total stranger just because. I know I helped you before, but it doesn’t compare to what you did for me. Especially on a matter that seems so silly to me now. You put yourself in a very awkward position for someone you didn’t even know. In front of the public, for a guy like me. You knew I was a “playboy”, and that I could very well use you. Yet you still put up with it. You accepted my son, even as you didn’t have to. Even as, just like me, you are so young. You were nice to Dick, even if all you needed to do was pretend. You’re...You’re...You’re just something else entirely. It feels like you know me, the real me. Like you can read my very soul. Like you’re the only one for me. I’ve known for a long time. I ignored it because I was afraid of what that meant but...but a certain little one made me realize this was time. It’s time to move on. It’s time to allow myself to be happy. And so, here I am.”

Was this...it ? The point of your gap year ? To discover that finding yourself...Meant finding your soulmate ? 

It sounded silly. While at the same time, not. Because you felt it. You felt it deep within you. From the moment Bruce handed you that twenty dollars bill, fate was in motion. 

You meeting Eric and Monica wasn’t bad luck. It was the opposite. It was the Universe’s push towards your real Destiny. 

Towards Bruce. 

“You’re not saying anything. Is this bad ? Or does it mean I blew your mind away ? I’m clearly hoping for the latter...”

Over the months, you discovered how huge of a dork Bruce Wayne could be. Even as if there was often a darkness right behind his smiles. Deep within his eyes. You discovered he wasn’t always this cocky arrogant man he portrayed himself to be while in public. How he was actually pretty funny and oh so empathetic. How...How so many things, the list seemed endless in your mind. 

And it only added to everything, that he looked so unsure. And so you smile. You just smile at him. And everything you feel is in that smile. 

You don’t even realize you’re holding each others now, and that you’re kissing...

It’s not pretend this time. 

A real first kiss. 

Though maybe all your kisses until now weren’t as fake as you pretended them to be. 

In any case, this, right now, is a real kiss alright. 

A real one. 

Full of all the pent up emotions. Free of all the fear and hurt you both felt as you realized you were in love with the other one, yet you thought things were all “fake”. 

Because it wasn't fake. It wasn’t. 

“I love you.” 

You don’t know who said it first. You, or him. You felt so in sync, that it didn’t matter. What is sure, is that you both said it. Before you closed the door to your apartment, leading him in. 

Before you spend the night in each other’s arms.

Bruce not even thinking about going out as Batman..

For the first time in years, he decided to fully embrace being happy. 

“You always told me my parents would wish for me to be happy, well yours too !” Dick said. And oh, he was so right.

By the way, I’m Batman. Surprise. 

“It’s not like I didn’t know, you know.” 

“Huh ?” 

Oh. Oh the delight to see that surprised expression on Bruce’s face. It was quite a rare one, really. And as he finally gathered the courage to tell you who he really was, risking losing you in the process but wanting to show you his full self...

It was particularly delightful. 

“Busted you on that night you saved me. As if I wasn’t going to recognized that jawline.” 

“Wait, really ? I really thought you bought my lies !” 

“Well now, you know not to underestimate me.” 

“I...Do.”

A natural smile reaches his face, and he approaches you, pulling you to him, and laying a soft kiss on your lips. Feeling fully accepted and loved, like never before. And he could see you-

“Oh NO EWWWWWW !!!” 

You pull away from Bruce’s kiss (noticing his slow grumble, displeased to lose  your warmth), and look at little Dickie (your son too, now !), staring at you two, looking disgusted. 

“Get a ROOOOM !!” 

This makes you laugh. A lot. And oh. Oh how would you ever guess, in that moment, that one day, this “get a room !!” said in such a disgusted tone would be the trademark of your children (SIX OF THEM) whenever they’d see you and Bruce display any sort of affection to one another ? 

You couldn’t guess, of course. But even in that moment, as you softly laughed, in Bruce’s arms, while looking at your son now making exaggerated noises and acting silly, you knew this...

This was what you’ve been looking for during this gap year. 

This was who you were. 

Right there. 

At the heart of a loving family, even if right now, it was just the three of you (four, let’s not forget Alfred !). 

The end. 

_________________________________________________

And here we are. I hope you liked it ? I feel particularly nervous about this one haha. Don’t hesitate to leave a little comment and reblog :),  It’s always greatly appreciated, and encouraging :D. Thanks in advance, and see you soon with a new story ! 

[purpleyellow]

It’s not enough

NCT 24th member / Dream 8th member

Bee’s Masterlist

“The remarkable world of Mark Lee’s mind” or, Mark rethinkgs his entire history with Bee.

a/n: I finished it!! Feel free to share your thoughts with me. Requests are open!💛 this gif is peak devastation 

All Mark could think when Bee first joined the group was “Thank God for Lee Jeno”.

Noticing that while she didn’t know how to express herself in front of them, Jeno was the first to give her a sense of comfort. Mark, after getting nervous for not knowing how to be helpful, told himself that eventually, Bee would get close to him too. He had a year, after all, to become friends and grow a bond with her.

Except that a year doesn’t last that long and little girls don’t come with instructions.

He knows she cried on his last showcase with Dream. But Mark has a feeling she only did so because of the occasion. She was seeing the seven best friends she witnessed together being separated, and that’s a heartbreaking sight when you know how close they are together.

Two years later, Mark realizes that was his big mistake. It wasn’t on purpose but along the way, he isolated the girl from their original friend group, and maybe it’s what caused some sort of distance in between them.

The year following his departure was an eventful one, and the boy grew a lot, experienced a lot, and learned a lot. The best part of everything being that whenever he met with their little friend group, his spot was intact and everything was the same. Except for Bee. Mark would see how she had inevitably built her own place within the dreamies, and it had him feeling weirdly left out even though they were perfectly coexisting.

They went on being coworkers and labeling each other as friends despite the weird lack of bond, until, of course, the whole “crush” fiasco went down. Mark saw himself and the girl going from, no correlation besides being in the same friend group, to suddenly facing a crisis that revolved around her feelings and his lack of knowledge about how she works.

The image he had of her, was built on a shallow level based on how others perceived her. That’s his second mistake. Jeno, and some of his Hyungs, were almost protective over Bee. Renjun and Jaemin treated her like their personal teddy bear. Haechan, Chenle, and to some extent Jisung were not worth going over in his head, because he thought that if he joked around as they did, she would probably get offended.

So there Mark was, trying to work around, this seemingly fragile character, while finding out that she saw him as a friend more than he did to her. And that maybe all the stress he had gone through to make sure she was being “protected” was worthless and seemingly ignored. He was a bit selfish for wanting to do the right thing simply for others to notice him, but that’s how he knew things. That's how he had to build a career for himself, he needed to get recognition from others to do the things he had done. And maybe connecting everything to work was another mistake.

“What’cha thinking about?” Chenle throws his coat on top of Mark’s head after realizing the practice room wasn’t empty. Though the boy was so deep in thought he didn’t realize the idol had arrived until he announced himself.

“Just life” Mark groans while laying back on the ground, his phone left on the floor next to him. The younger boy walked to the side, taking a glance at the screen before smirking.

“And by life, do you mean someone special?” He teases and Mark's hands fly to the device, the notes app open on the words he had mindlessly typed. He knew Chenle didn’t have time to actually read everything, but the title gave away enough. “The little ballerina”

“I’m trying to see things through a different lens” The Canadian spoke looking sideways at him. Gesturing he continued “Yesterday, I tried talking to her back at the van, but to be honest I had no idea what to say. Apparently, there's no good way to approach it, but I kind of feel like there might be”

“Markie, Markie. Don’t overthink anything. What do we do when we have a schedule that we’re not particularly good at?” Chenle placed a hand behind his ear and waited for the boy to say.

“We go ahead and just do it”

“So do just that” The boy snapped, “Between you and me, Yun-hee doesn't know what she wants. At one point she's all certain about 'moving on' or whatever, yet then when you ask her for any details of what she's feeling, she completely ignores you”.

“You asked her about it?” Mark's head snaps up frowning and the boy nods. “What did she say? Does-”

“Did you not listen to what I just say? She brushed me off” Chenle rolls his eyes “But I think she still likes you if that's worth something. Maybe not the way she did back when Haechan dropped the bomb”.

“What do you mean? Like a friend?” He questions confused, decreasing the younger's patience.

“No, Mark. The same way you like her now”.

“Chenle, I already told her, and all of you, that I don't feel like that towards Bee” Mark’s tone gets more serious and the younger groans annoyed.

“You two are so slow, we literally have to put words in your mouth to get things going” Chenle speaks quicker trying to get his point across. “It's really obvious you care about Bee more than you did at the beginning of last year. And okay, let's say you don't have a little thing for her or whatever, but you do want to have some sort of relationship with her, don't you?”

“Yeah, being friends for once would be nice” Mark nods, sarcastically, and gets up from the floor. “I really just want this all to end”

Mark left the room shortly after and being honest with himself, he felt a little light-headed with everything Chenle just told him. Putting most things aside to revisit once he had a clearer mind, the boy decided to put into use the one good advice he could find in the middle of everything. When you have a particularly hard task, you just have to go ahead and do it.

So with that, his plan was built. And by plan, he means to have no prepared speech, and no questions to ask, instead figure out everything after he finally finds a way of talking to her, which has been harder than anticipated.

A couple of days later, while he went down to the sm cafe before it was time to be at the studio, Mark quite literally froze in place at the sight of a certain Stray Kids member standing near a wall.

Waving shyly at him and Renjun, Seungmin waited awkwardly to see if they would come near him.

"Bee shouldn't take much longer" Renjun caught Mark by surprise, as he approached the boy calmly "Her recording session is almost done, but we can show you the studio if you want to wait for her there"

"No, it's fine" Seungmin smiled, though a little intimidated by Mark's frown. "I'll just sit wherever if it takes too long"

"I'm sorry, you two are going out?" The laugh followed by Mark's question was a little nervous, considering he had only seen the boy a few times yet here he was waiting for Bee to be done so they could do... something?

"No, no. Bee's going to meet Moon, I'm just the intermediate" Seungmin tries to joke but Renjun is the only one laughing. Clearing his throat, he explains further "My group was nearby and we're meeting Ateez for dinner so Moon asked if I could come to pick her up"

"Yun-hee is staying over at her dorm" Renjun adds, glaring sideways at the Canadian. "A sleepover or whatever you want to call it" The three fall silent after he's done talking and Mark runs over an explanation as to why he's feeling so frustrated over this conversation.

He and Bee hadn’t properly spoken since the award show shooting. And while forced interactions were the bare minimum, the boy felt as if the distance they kept had triplicated its length. It made him feel odd to see her act normally with everyone, including a boy she hadn’t spoken to for a year. So why couldn’t they be normal as well?

"Well, I'm going ahead and get a coffee. She should be coming anytime, though being late is kind of expected at this point" The comment from Renjun makes Seungmin chuckle and both boys nod to each other. Turning to Mark, he frowns at his wondering expression "You coming?"

"I'm heading up actually, it's my turn on studio 3" He shakes his head and waves at them. The elevator doesn't seem to take much longer to arrive, which Mark thinks might be some weird doing of fate, considering as soon as he makes it to his floor, Bee is walking along the hallway. Or was, because she changes her path the moment she spots him

Acting purely on instinct might not be the smartest thing to do, the boy thinks to himself while chasing her through the building without any idea of what he wants to say once "catching" her. Maybe Kun hiding Bee in his studio and obviously lying to him was a good thing, or at least it gave him another day to think about where he wants to stand with her.

Ironically, a couple of days after, he's in fact standing in front of a door while thinking if he should or not enter and hopefully settle everything. Mark opens the door slowly, analyzing the small room with two chairs in which she's sitting on one.

“Can we talk now?” He waits for her positive to walk inside and Bee does so by simply nodding. Her eyes looked a little tired and uninterested, but the small tremor on her hands told him how present she really was. And just like the first time they met, her nervousness contaminated him, and they just sat inside the small room without looking at each other in silence.

"I, um, have been thinking about everything since that game night" Mark clears his throat and starts speaking towards the floor "And, not that you owe me anything, but I'd just like to know what happened"

Frowning, Bee quickly glances at him "What do you mean, what happened?"

"When did you start, kind of seeing me in that way. And how did it stop, I guess. It just feels like a lot happened that I'm not aware of, and it's making me look back and reconsider some stuff, I'll explain that later, just let me know what I missed"

Bee thought of how she would put things into words and twirled the ring on her finger, taking a deep breath she tried to make herself comfortable on the chair

"It started around when you came back from the SuperM tour. Or maybe before that, I'm not sure” She sighs and picks at her nails “It seemed like that boy I met was gone after you graduated, and you became this even cooler rapper, you became more confident in yourself, literally embodied SM's favorite child. I sort of became stunned, this feels really weird to say, but I couldn't really recognize you"

Mark slowly looks at Bee while she's talking and carefully listens, he feels a little more comfortable not to look away once she raises her head again. Once she stops, he nods turning his chair a little so they're more face to face.

"You feel out of it after you find out I'm still the awkward boy from before" His jokes make her shrug as opposed to the giggle he expected to hear.

"That happened, but also, you did turn me down" Bee bites her lip regretting the word choice "Not that I'm mad, or really hoped for anything, I simply didn't want to push anything or make things too weird. That's why going back to normal was such a huge thing, but it's been a really long time since then and we still don't know how to do that, I guess"

"Maybe it's because we didn't exactly have a normal, at least not the one we're trying to do right now" Mark catches her attention and she gestures for him to keep going "Thinking back to when we first met, we never got close just the two of us. The others were always around, and even then, I can't recall us sticking together or anything. That might be why you thought I was different"

"It makes sense" The girl mumbles tilting her head and frowning. If he was true, that would mean her crush had been based on this picture of him she drew on her head. And while part of it certainly was, Bee also knows that a little percentage came from his actual responsible yet boyish and kind personality she still appreciates to this day.

"I guess it does" Mark nods reading her face "We should probably find a way to work around that. Just get closer in general, I guess. Find out what our dynamic is like without blending in with the rest of the boys and ignoring each other" He speaks hopefully, but Bee fears it might not work again.

"But, what if this is it for us. We didn't naturally become friends, so maybe accountancies it's what we should stick with" She doesn't know if she meant it, or was scared of this whole 'finding out' deal and its consequences. From what she knew, Bee could easily slip back into her feelings for him and end up breaking her face again.

Yet Mark wasn't having it. He'd spent way too much time, especially lately, noticing how she was comfortable with the others, and the nice chemistry they had. He felt left out, not as in ignored, but Bee was sweet, and a little quirky which also made her funny, but still very caring, and he never denied she was pretty. He wanted to know what it’s like to be her friend like the others are. Though this moment might be the first time he questions if a friendship will be enough for him.

"Let's put an effort this time" He shakes his head dismissing her comment "We can stick around in the practice room a little longer now that our schedules mostly match. And you know, hang out together more, no running away or ignoring each other"

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Bee bounces up her leg and thinks a little bit.

"For what it's worth, we can try. We spent a good time in here and it didn't get awkward, so there’s hope" Mark giggles and she follows him "It'll make the teamwork better if you need a greater good to support your decisions"

"Okay" Bee nods making him shyly hold out a fistbump to her. Making up a quick and weird handshake, they laugh together lighting up the mood a little.

"Just a little request" The girl stops Mark as he's getting up "Let's not rush things, you know. Make it more natural than acting like we're forcefully acting as friends"

"Yeah, sure" Mark pats her head opening the door. And to everyone, especially the dreamies’, happiness, they're a little less awkward around each other.

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Touch Starved

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Warnings: Cursing, sfw fwb dynamic (lmao it’s secret hugging)

A/N:

*heavy breathing* I finally finished it!! I’ve had this request sitting in my inbox for literal months and I’m so sorry, anon, that you had to wait so long 😫. I hope you like what I came up with!

Also I ended up using she/her pronouns a bit towards the end, so if you’d like me to edit it so it has they/them I can repost it! Just let me know :)

-Sugar

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● Bakugou's never been much for physical affection

● Or, at least, so he'd convinced himself

● Even around his family, he found himself shrinking back from hugs

● And anytime one of his friends would try to put an arm around him or pat him on the back, he'd flinch and tense up (Kirishima and Kaminari had a few special privileges, but even they were on thin fucking ice)

● A part of him craved that touch, wished it could last longer

● But his ego always got in the way

● From a young age, he'd viewed acts like this as showing weakness and vulnerability. It's no surprise that by the time he arrives at UA, the longing is a mostly ignorable dull throb

● Until he got to know you

● You were one of the most sickeningly sweet people Bakugou had ever seen, and he despised you

● You were just as bad as that Shitty Hair, if not worse; always grinning and trying to include everyone, even him

● He hated how his eyes seemed to have a mind of their own around you, never letting you leave their gaze when you were around him. He hated how your laugh made his cheeks heat up and his heart pound in his chest. And most of all, he hated when the tips of your fingers would brush against his arm, or when you tried to lean on his shoulder. You truly were the most intolerable of beings

● And it seems like you're even worse today

● Class was about to start and you were talking with Ashido, Kirishima, and Kaminari

● He honestly wasn't even paying attention to the conversation, that is, until he heard his name mentioned

● His red eyes flicked to you, since it had been your voice he'd heard say his name

● You had definitely been trying to get his attention. Now your gaze was directed at him

● "I've never seen you hug anyone, Bakugou," you said, your head tilted slightly as you addressed him

● "The hell does that have to do with anything?" he grumbled, already getting annoyed at the topic of conversation

● "Well, I read the other day that hugs can make you happier! And you always seem so grumpy all the time, so I was wondering if you just needed more hugs."

● You seemed oblivious to the way your classmates were staring at you. Even Bakugou couldn't bring himself to speak, merely glaring at you with a confused, almost offended expression

● Panicking at his lack of response, you bent down and threw your arms around his shoulders. You thought you heard a gasp from one or two of your classmates behind you

● Bakugou seemed to have no reaction other than mild shock. He just froze there, neither pushing you off nor reciprocating

● The whole thing was over within a few seconds, but it felt as though it had actually lasted much, much longer. Seconds after you pulled away, the bell rang for class to start, and everyone had to go back to their seats

● There was an abnormal silence in the class after that. It was as if nearly every student was thinking, Holy crap, (L/N) just hugged Bakugou freaking Katsuki

● Bakugou was weirdly silent too. It seemed as if he hadn't had any reaction at all

● Sike—it was pure chaos inside his head

● He's just been pounded with a whole slew of new feelings and emotions—give the boy a break (and a minute to process)

● He can scarcely pay attention during class (which he can afford to do, it's not like he doesn't already know most of this stuff)

● Katsuki can't tell if he hated it or not

● His immediate instinct is to reject it and say it was awful . . . but he can't deny that there's a teeny tiny part of his brain that wants you to do it again

● No one can ever know this, of course. He has a reputation to maintain, after all

● But in the safety of his own mind, he replays it over and over, trying to remember every detail of how your arms had felt around him for that brief moment

● Boy was hooked on you even more than he had been before

● But it's not like anyone can tell. Bakugou's good at that. No one would ever be able to tell he had any feelings towards the incident at all, negative or positive

● Even after his friends bombard him with questions after class, he gruffly brushes them all off. He acts so uninterestingly about it, they don't even bother asking him about it again

● Bakugou hopes that this will all blow over within the next few days. He'd surely stop thinking about you all the time, right? Maybe somehow, if he ignored these thoughts, his eyes wouldn't trail after you on their own accord, and his mind wouldn't jump at every opportunity to think about you

● For weeks, he told himself this, and time passed to nearly two months. He avoided you at all costs, refusing to speak to you or even make eye contact

● You felt horrible, blaming it on the dumb mistake you'd made to hug him that morning. No matter how hard you tried to approach him to apologize, he'd turn you away, and soon enough, you'd given up

● Until one night, he couldn't take it anymore

● He had just been fantasizing about that moment again, and tentatively wondering how it would feel to put his arms around you while he was out in the dorm hallway

● Even through the haze of his thoughts, he was quick to notice your head of hair about to turn into the hallway to your room

● You. Bubbly, bright, overly touchy and friendly you. Fuck you.

● You were always hugging everyone, right? You didn't really mean anything by it, right? It was no big deal when you hugged other people. So, maybe if he were to just ask . . .

● "Oi."

● You froze in your tracks. You'd caught sight of him in the hall, but you knew better than to try to attract his attention. He was dead set on avoiding you, and you'd pretty much accepted that by now

● Turning, you met his fiery red eyes for the first time in weeks. "Yeah?"

● There was something . . . apprehensive in his expression. You weren't sure if you'd ever seen anything like it on his face before

● "Get over here, I want to ask you something." He shoved his hands in his pockets, shifting his glare to the carpet below him

● Uncertain of what might be going on, you cautiously made your way to him

● "What is it?" you asked, a little annoyed with how he'd been treating you lately

● "I, um, well—remember that thing you did a while ago?"

● You blinked at him, slowly. "I do a lot of things. You need to be more specific."

● You'd never seen him look so flustered. It was almost . . . cute

● "You—um, you hugged me. Remember?"

● Of course you remembered. That was what had made him hate you in the first place, right?

● You sighed and crossed your arms. "Look, I'm sorry I did that. I know it made you uncomfortable and I'm sorry it affected you so much. Really, I was just goofing around, and I'm sorry it got out of hand."

● He blinked at you. You were apologizing? Oh, maybe it did make sense, now that he thought about it. He had been being an ass to you

● "Is that what you wanted?" you asked. "I tried to apologize a long time ago but you wouldn't even look at me—"

● "Could you do it again?" he cut you off

● ". . . apologize?"

● "What?! No!" Bakugou's face reddened and he scanned the surroundings for a potential audience. He dropped his voice to a scarcely audible mumble. "I . . . —dammit, I want you to hug me again."

● You blinked at him, this time in surprise. You had, in fact, heard him, but you could barely believe it. You only knew that you'd understood him correctly by his posture, and how uncharacteristically flustered he was

● "You want another hug?"

● He scowled. "Don't make me say it twice."

● "So you liked it the first time?"

● "I never said that!"

● "Uh-huh."

● Even with your annoyed teasing, you felt as if you might be able to understand a little. Everything seemed to make more sense to you, and you were beginning to catch onto the bigger picture. He'd been embarrassed that he liked it, and that was why he'd been avoiding you

● "So do you want a hug now or—?"

● "Not where anyone could see!" Bakugou's eyes nervously darted around again. "We could . . . go in my room or something." His voice had dropped back to a mumble

● You snorted and rolled your eyes. "Secret hugs, huh? I didn't know I was in such high demand."

● "Shut up, dumbass. Just follow me."

● You do that, letting him lead you into his room. After he shuts the door behind you, you stand there awkwardly for a second

● "So . . . you just wanted a hug?"

● He shrugged. "Yeah."

● You closed the distance between you and took him into your arms

● He stiffened a little at the contact, heart pounding away in his chest. It was even better than he had remembered, and now he noticed even more things; like the way your chest felt pressed against his body, and how your hair smelled like shampoo, and—

● "Relax, idiot," you whispered beside his ear. Bakugou tried to let out some of the tension in his shoulders and even tried looping his own arms around you

● You snickered internally, until a thought struck you

● When you finally pulled away, you looked at him inquisitively. "When was the last time you hugged someone?" you asked. "Other than me."

● He frowned, still a little flustered. Then he shrugged. "I don't know. It's probably been a few years."

● You couldn't help but feel your heart pang a little bit for the boy. You knew how he felt about interacting with people. You'd seen how adverse he'd seemed towards physical interaction, even among his friends

●Touch starved, you thought. It was an awful thing to experience. Bakugou probably wasn't even aware of what he was missing

● You sighed. "We can do this again if you want," you offered, wondering if the proposition would set him off to ignore you again. "I won't tell anyone."

● "Better not," he muttered under his breath

● "Do you want me to come back or not?" you asked

● He shrugged. "S'whatever. Do whatever."

● You frowned right back at him. "Yes. Or no?"

● "Yes! Yes, come over here and hug me or whatever shit! Just—just leave now."

● You rolled your eyes at him, turning and twisting the doorknob. "Just ask when you're ready," you said before walking out of his room again

● Bakugou stared at the door for a long time after you'd left

● His chest felt like it had little explosions going off in it, and he couldn't help but feel ridiculously giddy

● What was he doing? But it had felt . . . amazing. And you'd offered to do it again, whenever he asked . . . .

● . . . You proved to stand by your word

● Sure enough, he'd catch you alone every few days and sneak off to his room for a quick hug. In return, he'd help you go over your notes for class

● Before long, you couldn't help but feel closer to Bakugou. Even with his harsh nature, you noticed how he could really be. Coupled with the moments of vulnerability he'd let you in on while you hugged in secret, your liking for the boy only grew

● And it did seem to have some effect on his mood. He wasn't so easily set off, and he yelled a bit less. Your fellow classmates didn't bring up the change, but they had certainly noticed it

● Even though no one was allowed to know about your shared moments together, Kirishima would often join you for a study session

● During those days, you'd wait until he left before going in to give Bakugou his hug

● Until the inevitable happened

● It was just you and Bakugou in his room. You'd gotten all your stuff packed up for the night and you were giving him one last hug

● He'd gotten better at it over the past couple of weeks, and he'd learned to relax more into your hold

● Of course, that was right when Kirishima came back in

● "Sorry, dude, I left my—" He froze at the sight before him

● Bakugou jumped back from you, trying to look as though it wasn't obvious what he'd just been doing

● "Sorry, guys!" he said, hovering in the doorway for a moment as he debated whether or not to grab whatever he'd forgotten before dashing back out. Ultimately he decided to go emptyhanded, slamming the door shut as he whisked back into his room

● You looked at Bakugou, trying to gauge how he'd taken this turn of events. He looked angry and flustered (a look on him you were starting to get used to), but he definitely could have looked more outraged

● You patted his back. "Are you okay?"

● The blond seemed speechless for once, unable to take his eyes off the door

● "It's just Kirishima," you assured him. "He'd get it. He's understanding."

● Bakugou wasn't so sure

● A few minutes after you left, there was another knock at Bakugou's door

● "What the hell do you want?"

● Kirishima poked his head in, making sure the coast was clear. "I just wanted my notebook back."

● Bakugou picked it up from his desk and launched it at Kirishima's head, which he barely managed to catch

● "Thanks, man." Even with his originally sought after item, the redhead proceeded to step into his friend's room. "So what's going on with you and (L/N)?"

● There it was, the question Bakugou knew was coming

● "Nothing." At least it wasn't a complete lie

● "No, you two were doing something," Kirishima smirked. "Are you dating in secret or something?"

● "What?! No! It's not like that! And besides, it's none of your fucking business."

● Kirishima shrugged. "That's fair. But if you're not dating, why was she hugging you?"

● Bakugou tched. "She hugs everyone, you know her."

● "Yeah, but you were hugging her back."

● "She just gives really nice hugs!"

● Kirishima pouted. "You never hug me."

● "That's because it's different!"

● "So does that mean you like her or something?"

● Bakugou froze for just a split second too long. "No."

● Kirishima gave him a look. "She might like you back. Just ask her out on a date."

● "I already said it wasn't like that—"

● Bakugou's friend shrugged. "Well, if it was . . . couldn't hurt to try."

● Once Kirishima was successfully kicked from Bakugou's room, he took a moment to think. Could he actually . . . like you? Maybe that would explain some of the things that he'd been feeling lately

● But what about you? Could you like him back?

● Bakugou rolled his shoulders. Of course you'd like him, what part of him wasn't perfect? But still . . . .

● One night a few days later, you were alone with Bakugou again in his room, doing homework together

● You couldn't help but notice that his vibe seemed off, and it looked like he was having trouble concentrating

● "Are you alright?" you finally asked him

● "Yeah," he snapped

● "You seem stressed," you commented.

● "I'm not fucking stressed," he said, refusing to meet your eyes as he glared at his notebook in front of him

● "Okay, then," you muttered, rolling your eyes to yourself and attempting to go back to your own notes

● You watched Bakugou fidget from the corner of your eye, but decided not to pay it any mind anymore. It wasn't long before you noticed that he hadn't turned a page in his book for the past several minutes

● Bakugou was, of course, internally raging

● Why couldn't he ask you a simple question? Did he even know what kind of question he wanted to ask, though?

●Go out on a date with me— too forward, it didn't sound right to him in his head

●For some reason, I think I might like you— no again, that wasn't right either

● His mind rolled over various phrasings, trying to figure out how to put his feelings to words. How was he supposed to do that?

● How could he iterate this weird burning mess he felt clawing in his chest every time he looked at you and touched you? How could he say that he wanted more than what you were doing? How was he supposed to get the reaction out of you that he wanted?

●Be fearless, he told himself. He'd faced worse than this before. He'd been through situations where his life had literally been on the line. How come you, of all people, made him feel more frightened than ever before? Why did he care about your opinion of him so goddamn much??

● He had to start somewhere. Maybe once he got going it would be easier

● "Oi," he said, straining to keep his voice steady and nonchalant as you looked up at his averted eyes

● "Yeah?"

● "I was . . . I was wondering if maybe you wanted to . . . study somewhere else sometime."

● You blinked at him. "Like . . . where?"

● He shrugged, just a bit too jerkily. "I don't know. There's this café a few blocks from campus."

● You squinted at him. "What's wrong with staying here?"

● He scowled, his eyes finally darting up to meet yours before dipping back down again. "I just wondered if we could maybe—do something together. Something a little different."

● A hint of realization dawned on you, causing a smile to alight on your lips and your eyebrow to quirk up. "Different like—a date? Are you asking me out on a date with you?"

● He shrugged again in the same manner, still scowling as he muttered, "Only if you want it to be."

● You considered for a moment. He was a decent enough guy. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you might say you'd developed a bit of a crush on him, actually. You'd never paid too much attention to it before, but now that he was asking . . . it couldn't hurt to try

● "Of course I'll go out with you," you said, breaking into an easy smile that Bakugou still wasn't certain if he adored or hated

● He immediately relaxed, a small smile of his own appearing on his face at your agreement

● He was glad it was you. You were the only person he felt comfortable being vulnerable around. He could already tell that he was growing to like you more and more with each passing day, and he could only hope that you felt the same

● You put up with him, and you were strong in your own way, and by goodness, he was beginning to fall for you so hard

● And maybe, if you agreed for him to be your boyfriend, you'd let him cuddle with you. It wouldn't be awkward, because that's what couples did. You'd be his and he'd be yours, and he wouldn't have to bottle up these annoying feelings anymore

● But that would be decided at some later time

● Even so, he couldn't wait for that day to come

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Taglist: @basicaegyo​ @fourteenow @iiminibattlehero​ @katsugay​ @nabo39​ @pyrofanatic​​ @sendhelpimstupid​ @xoxopam4​​

[sebsbrokentoe]

Supply Closet

masterlist

warnings: nothing, pure fluff, nosy Sam but we love him, nothing else i could think of. all mistakes are mine.

please like and reblog

word count: 1696

“What are you doing?” Sam eyed you curiously at the way you were hiding behind him, seeing as you were the same height as him, it was like a giraffe hiding behind another giraffe. 

“I’m looking for my dignity, can’t you see” You sarcastically replied to him as if it wasn’t obvious you were trying to hide from Bucky. 

You didn’t realise when you had a crush on Bucky, it just developed over the moments you had with each other. You both had gotten close over a few months. It started just as small glances when you passed each other in the hallway but then it became sneaking off in the kitchen talking about anything. Then it became more, you knew he had nightmares, which is why he came at any hour of the night to see you. You, on the other hand, just couldn’t sleep at night, you didn’t have nightmares or anything, you just couldn’t so instead you started to bake or cook whenever you couldn’t sleep. Tony had an unlimited amount of supplies so why not use them. You rarely shared your treats with anyone, so when you started offering them to Bucky and eventually making what he liked, you, along with the rest of the team put the pieces together, well everyone except Bucky. 

You tried to make your flirting obvious but every time you tried to flirt, you’d just make a fool of yourself and he’d laugh. Normally your flirting came naturally, especially with Bucky but you didn’t think he saw it that way. You were fine with things that way, you didn’t want to tell Bucky about your feelings in case you ruined your friendship, so you hid your feelings, horribly.

This time you decided to hide from Bucky because in your idiotic mind if you didn’t see him you wouldn’t have feelings for him. You swore you were smarter than that but not when it comes to Bucky. So now here you are, trying to hide behind Sam and doing a horrible amazing job. 

“Why the hell are you hiding from Barnes?” Sam stopped in the midst of his walk to turn around to talk to you.

“Don’t move he’ll see me, just keep moving and stop looking suspicious” You squatted behind him in case Bucky turned this way. 

“He’ll see us when we walk past him anyway and answer my question, why are you ignoring him?”  Seeing as your disguise wasn’t working, you quickly pulled Sam away in the opposite direction of Bucky, but he saw both of you and quickly misinterpreted the situation.

 Seeing as every time you ignored Bucky you would go to Sam, Bucky thought of the two of you becoming more than friends and he didn’t like how he felt about it. He was just bad at saying what he felt, especially when it came to his feelings for you. Normally he could talk about anything with you but he always felt flustered when it became about what he felt for you because you were special to him. When you came on the team and saw him around the compound, you didn’t hide from him and you weren’t scared of him either. You always greeted him with a smile on your face and since then instead of glaring at everyone who would give him a second glance he would give them a small smile as if your joy rubbed off on him. 

He didn’t even second guess himself when he started to talk to you about his nightmares. Every night, when he couldn’t sleep, he knew he would find you in the kitchen making something and just the sight of you standing in the kitchen with flour all over you was enough for him to calm down from whatever woke him up. So your conversations came naturally, there was no push to talk about anything and if it got awkward, you would quickly talk about something else, while Bucky listened to you. Bucky for the first time in a long time felt peace. Of course, he had Steve, but you were different, you didn’t know anything about him yet it felt like you knew each other for your entire lives. 

So when Bucky saw you heading off with Sam, he didn’t like what he felt. He didn’t want to come to conclusions but you’ve been acting weird lately. You haven’t been baking when he came into the kitchen at night, he never saw you around the common room anymore. He didn’t want to let anyone know, but he was worried, he was worried that he was losing you and he didn’t want to but he wasn’t one for a confrontation so he thought he’d try to forget about it for now. 

You successfully pulled Sam away from anywhere near Bucky and steered him towards a closet, not completely closing the door. To anyone else, it may seem like you were more than friends about to have a hot moment in the supply closet, but it wasn’t anything like that.

“Okay, you need to listen to me and don't interrupt me and I swear to God you better not tell anyone about this, got it?” Maybe you were overreacting but you’d rather not die of humiliation if everyone finds out that you have a crush on Bucky. It didn’t matter if they probably figured it out but both you and Bucky brushed the rumours, with the excuse that you were just friends and for a while you believed it, thinking that Bucky didn’t need to get in a relationship right now, so you never thought of it. But now, after all the time you two spent together, getting closer than others in the compound and the fact that he trusted you to talk about anything, you cherished that and part of you didn’t want to ruin the wonderful friendship you had. 

“Jeez woman alright, I won’t tell a soul that you’re in love with Barnes' “. That smirky ass held his hand up like he was being sworn in, almost laughing at you, but hiding it with a cough. 

“I’m not in love with him” You scoffed at that, even though he was right, but you didn’t want him to be right, because if he is, then if this got out to Bucky, you’ll be screwed and not in a good way.

He raised an eyebrow at your confession, not believing a word you said, but urges you to continue. 

“Okay, maybe I have feelings for him, but I can't let anyone know, especially Bucky. I don’t need my heart broken because I couldn't keep my mouth shut.”. You started to ramble not seeing what signals Sam was giving you, trying to ignore his distractions to continue your rant. 

“Hey um, maybe we should talk another time-” You interrupted him again, not understanding what he was h trying to do. 

“Stop interrupting me, I need to talk to someone about this and while you’re not my first choice, you’re here so shut up and listen” Before Sam could say anything, the door opened wider, with the last person you wanted to see behind it. Staring at Bucky with your mouth slightly opened, not saying a word, Sam slipped out between the two of you, not needed anymore. 

You tried to move but of course, you were having a dumb moment, which you had a lot around Bucky, but usually, you hid it better. Before you could say anything, Bucky closed the door behind him and walked closer to you and suddenly, the room seemed a hell of a lot smaller and jeez was it harm in there. He stopped right in front of you, which made it easy for him to hear your shaky breaths. 

“Why have you been ignoring me?” You were surprised, thinking Bucky would ask right away about what he heard between you and Sam, but you knew he wouldn’t understand your stupidity. So instead of beating around the bush, you decided to get to the point.

“I’m sorry, I just-, I was just being immature. I thought that I should stay away from you because I thought my feelings would get in the way and make you uncomfortable. I know you don’t like me like that so I didn’t want to tell you to mess up our friendship and I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you recently and I’m-”

Suddenly you were cut off by warm lips and you felt every emotion from that kiss. It was better than you could’ve ever imagined. He pulled back way too soon, showing that special smile that only a few have had the pleasure of seeing. You smiled back, the small curve on your lips turning into a full-on grin. 

“Do you need an explanation for that or do I need to do it again?” He said cheekily while holding your face with his large hands, both of you now laughing at his statement. 

“I don't think I quite got that, you may need to do it a few more times” You giggled again, linking your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to kiss him again, only this time being interrupted by cheering behind the door.

“Fucking finally” You knew that had to be Sam, who probably brought everyone else to see what was going to end up happening. 

“Shut up dickhead” Bucky yelled from your embrace, trying to sound stern, but you saw the small smile on his lips. 

I think we could finish this in the bedroom, don’t you think, I may still need help understanding what you meant” before you could even finish your sentence, you were lifted in the air, your legs latching around his waist, while he tried to get through the herd of ‘supporters’ outside the supply closet. Both of you were laughing, trying to get to the bedroom before someone followed you, knowing that someone definitely would.

“Remind me to tell F.R.I.D.A.Y not to let Sam near our room” You giggled in his neck, nodding slightly as he gripped your thighs more, leaving a small kiss on your temple. 

tags: @especially-obsessed​ | @leyannrae​ | @becca-e-barnes​ 

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Say Something

MAIN MASTERLIST

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2,325ish

Summary: Bucky doesn’t speak up when he should.

Notes: this wasn’t requested. I was watching Private Practice and this idea came to me.

This mission had be grueling. You and Natasha had been gone for almost three weeks, with the mission almost being unsuccessful multiple times. You were basically dragging your feet, too tired to pick them up, as you entered your and Bucky’s shared apartment in the compound. Instantly, the smell of your favorite food hit your senses. You almost melted against the door as you shut it.

“Doll? Is that you?” Bucky’s voice called, most likely from the kitchen.

“Yeah,” you responded, slipping off your boots as leaned up against the door.

Slowly, you made your way to the kitchen. There, your eyes feel upon a sight you would never get used to. Bucky Barnes, the Winter Solider, had an apron on, the table set, and was finishing dishing up the food onto serving plates and bowls.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiled at you as you came in further.

“What did I do to deserve all this?” You asked, grinning.

“Where do you want me to start?” With a plate and bowl in his hands, he made his way over to you to give you a long kiss. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He set down the food on the table, pulling out a chair for you. “How was the mission?”

“Long,” you answered as he pushed in your chair.

“Tell me about it,” Bucky chuckled, sitting across from you. “I can see why you go all crazy waiting for me to come home.”

“Excuse me?” You teased.

“I’m joking, I’m joking.” He raised his hands in defense. “I just really missed you.” The two of you began dishing up food for yourselves. “How’d the mission go?”

“You know, same old, same old. We almost didn’t make it out of there a few times.”

“You injured. A few scrapes and bruises, nothing a little time with you won’t fix.” You took a bite of the food, moaning with pleasure. “I love this so much.”

Bucky chuckled. “That’s why I made it, doll.”

The two of you talked as you ate. Laughing and simply enjoying each other’s company. Once you were done, you stood up, grabbing some dishes. Bucky was quickly up, hands taking the dishes from you.

“Oh, no, no, no, doll,” he rushed. “Let me take care of this.” 

“I can do the dishes, you cooked,” you responded.

“Yes, but you’ve just had a long mission and your tired. Why don’t you go sit on the couch? I’ll do the dishes then come over and take care of you.”

“Bucky—“

“Nope. No fighting this. I’m in charge tonight.”

“Yes, sir.” You playfully saluted before heading over to the couch.

You sat on the couch so that you were facing the kitchen. Your arms rested on the back of the couch, with your heading resting on them as you watched Bucky work. You were so in love with the man, falling more and more in love with him with each passing second. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with the man.

After fishing up the dishes and drying his hands, Bucky came over to you. He sat beside you on the couch, giving you a kiss before pulling your feet into his lap and massaging them. You tried to bite back the grin that was forming as you watched the man with big heart eyes. Noticing your staring, he looked up at you.

“What is it, doll?” He asked, tilting his head to the side slightly. “What’s going through that pretty little head of yours?”

“Just… how much I love you. And how I’m so lucky that your mine.”

“I’m the lucky one, doll. I—“

“Marry me.”

Bucky froze. His shoulders tensed and his hands stopped massaging your feet but they still were holding them. He looked caught.

“I want to marry you, James Buchanan Barnes,” you continued. He was still silent. Your nerves grew with each passing second he stayed silent. “Please, say something.”

“I… Um…” He cleared his throat, pulling his hands away from your feet. “Y/N… I…”

“Oh, gosh.” You hid your face in your hands as you pulled your knees to your chest. “I just… I should’t have said anything. I jumped the gun. I—“

“Doll—“

“No,” you quickly stood up. “No, you know what? I’m just going to go take a shower.”

“Y/N, please, just—“ He reached out for you but you quickly pulled back.

“No. Just, please, let me go shower.”

Bucky stood up. “I’ll come with you.”

“I just want to be alone.” 

You quickly booked it for the bathroom, Bucky following behind. You shut the door, locking it behind you, before moving to sit in the tub. You held your knees to your chest as you tried to stop the tears of embarrassment from forming.

“Y/N? Sweetheart, open the door,” Bucky called from the other side.

“No, I’m fine,” Y/N called out. “Thanks.”

“Open the door so we can talk.”

“No. You clearly don’t have anything to say, so I’m good. I’m fine. Just go away. We can talk later.”

“Y/N, I don’t… Ugh. I don’t want you to feel embarrassed.”

“Too late… I should have never said anything.”

“I didn’t say no—“

“You didn’t say anything! Which is… which is fine. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine. I jumped the gun. And now I’m locking in the bathroom like a crazy person, which I’m sure makes me look so attractive. No wonder you didn’t say anything.”

“I love you. I. Love. You. The brilliant, the stunning, the badass, the bitchy, the crazy I—“

“Okay, just stop. Don’t say anymore, please. Saying these nice things aren’t helping. You saying them just makes me more in love with you and that just makes me want to marry you more, and you clearly don’t want that. You didn’t say yes.”

“Or No. I—I didn’t say no… Baby, just open the door, please.”

“I’m good.”

“I’m in this, alright? No questions, no reservations.”

“But you didn’t say yes. Do you not want to get married?”

“It’s not that. It’s just… I just… I don’t think right now… I don’t think we’re ready just yet.”

“Yeah, well, okay.”

“Can you just please come out, doll?”

“No.”

“Okay, well, I’m gonna be right outside here, on the other side of the door. I’m not— I’m not going anywhere… I’m gonna be right here.”

You ignored him, instead you stepped out of the tub and turned on the shower. Hoping to get in there soon enough so he couldn’t hear you crying. But the shower didn’t to anything for his super soldier hearing. He could hear your sobs, each one making him hate himself a little more. He slid down the wall, resting his head in his hands. He’d really screwed up this time.

You didn’t leave the shower until the water was cold. After that, since you had no clothes with you, you wrapped yourself in towels and sat back in the tub, soon falling asleep. Once Bucky could tell you were asleep, he grabbed one of his shirts before quietly breaking into the bathroom. His heart broke at the sight your tear stained face. As gently as he could, he pulled his shirt over your body and carried you to bed. He held you close as he sleep, realizing that he may have just screwed up majorly. 

~~~

Bucky was up before you, making breakfast for the two of you. You weren’t all that surprised to wake up in your bed. Bucky never liked sleeping apart from you, especially if he could do something about it. You got up and immediately began to get ready to head down to the training rooms. The embarrassment from last night was still fresh and you really just wanted to do anything to avoid talking about it. Coming out into the kitchen, you went straight for a water bottle.

“Hey, I made breakfast,” Bucky said.

“I’m not hungry,” you responded, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge.

“Well, can we at least talk about last night?”

“No.” You walked away, heading for the door.

“Y/N, sweetheart.” He walked behind you.

“Can we just forget about last night, please? I just want to go downstairs and work out all the embarrassment.”

“But you don’t need to be embarrassed.”

“Oh I do.” You opened the door. With a sigh, you turned to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you later, Buck.” Then you left, shutting the door behind you.

Bucky let out a frustrated groan as he rested his forehead against the door. “What have I done?”

~~~

Bucky went to find Sam and Steve after cleaning up breakfast. Finding them outside throwing the shield around, he immediately told them what happened last night.

“Wait, let me make sure I have this straight,” Sam said. “She told you to marry her and you didn’t say anything?”

“Yes, Sam,” Bucky sighed.

“And here I was told that you were the ladies man.”

“So, you just sat there?” Steve clarified. “Stuttering?”

“She ran to the bathroom, guys,” Bucky continued. “She kept saying she was fine but I heard her crying.”

“You messed up real bad, cyborg,” Sam chuckled.

“How do you plan on fixing this one, punk?” Steve wondered.

“I don’t know,” Bucky responded. “I need your guys’ help.”

“Well, do you want to marry Y/N?”

“I do. I just… she caught me off guard. I had been planning on proposing. I even hunted down my ma’s ring.” He pulled a ring out of his pocket. “I just… I was waiting for the right moment.”

“That’s where you made your mistake, Frosty,” Tony’s voice came from behind. They all turned to face him. “There’s never a right time. You should have just said yes then. If you try and propose any time too soon, she’ll think you’re doing it out of pity.”

“Then what are you suggesting, Stark?”

“I have an idea. But we’ll need everyone to get on board with it. And just hope, for your sake, that she still wants to be with you.”

~~~

It had been weeks since that proposal incident. And you were thankful that Bucky was granting your wish with forgetting what had happened. You were currently in the bathroom, getting ready for one of Tony’s parties.

“You look gorgeous, doll,” Bucky whispered, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “I’m going to have a hard time keeping my eyes or hands off you tonight.”

“Well, you’re just going to have to suck it up,” you giggled. “Tony threatened me multiple times already today with things he’ll do if I don’t show up and stay the whole time.”

“I guess I’ll just have to stay strong until we are able to get back into our room.” He gently turned you around. “I love you.” He gave you a kiss.

“I love you too.”

~~~

You and Bucky stayed arm most of the night. You two made your rounds together, talking the richest of the rich into donating their money for a list of causes. After all the others left, it was time for the team’s afterparty. Natasha and Wanda dragged you into the bathroom, claiming they needed to freshen up and couldn’t do it without you. 

After a long 20 minutes, the women practically pushed you out of the bathroom first. You were going to turn around and questioned it when you noticed Bucky in the middle of this circle of red rose petals. Candles were lit around the room and your friends were standing along the edges of the room, watching.

“Bucky?” You questioned, looking around as you slowly made your way to him. “What is this?”

He reached out for your hand as you came closer. You willingly set your hand in his, letting him lead you into the circle of petals.

“It’s my way of saying sorry,” Bucky explained. “And that I’m a complete and utter dumbass.”

“Sorry?” You repeated. “What for?”

“For not giving you an answer when you told me to marry you.”

“Bucky, I thought that we were never—“

“Just let me get what I need to get out, doll. Please?” You nodded. “I was stupid for not saying the correct thing that night. It will forever be one of my biggest regrets. I was so shocked that you were so ready, I didn’t expect it. I have—“ 

Bucky paused, fishing for something in his pocket with his free hand, his another hand still holding onto yours. He pulled out a ring, causing you to gasp.

“Bucky.”

“I’ve been hunting this ring down for months. It’s my ma’s. I had literally just gotten it back from the shop the day you had gotten home. I was planning on prosing that weekend when you jumped me, surprising me. And I’m sorry I didn’t just say yes and pull out the ring right then and there. I will never for give myself for that. So that is why I’m doing this in front of all our friends— our family. So if I don’t fulfill any of the promises I promise you, then they can help hold me accountable.”

Bucky moved down onto one knee. Tears began to form in his eyes.

“I can’t promise that I won’t do anything stupid again, but I can promise that I will always love you through everything. Through anything stupid I do, you do, or we do together. I promise to always so you how much I love you, so that you never doubt my loyalty to you. I love you, Y/N. Marry me.”

You gave a watery chuckle as the tears came. “Yes.” 

Your family watching started clapping and cheering. With a large smile, Bucky slipped the ring on your finger and got up and kissed you hard. 

“I love you, Bucky,” you whispered. “So, so much.”

[twink-appreciation-posts]

Needs and Wants - Spencer Reid x Reader

chapter six of “all bets are off”

um. so. spencer is the best fuck you've ever had. also cumming too many times can hurt. who knew?

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, degradation, daddy kinky, spanking, overstimulation, the WORKS. im mildly apologetic.

When you awoke in the morning you heard the noise of static cracking on the other side of your phone. Reaching for it, you immediately noticed it was hot to the touch. Had it been on all night? Had Spencer never hung up?

“Reid?” You questioned groggily.

“You slept quite late.”

You groaned. “Why are you still here?”

“I… I don’t know.” He seemed confused by his own actions. “I guess I just felt strange hanging up.”

“Well. I should probably get dressed, I’m supposed to meet up with a friend for dinner.” You checked the time. “Oh. Fuck. I really did sleep for too long.” You sprung out of bed, rifling through your closet. “What have you been up to today though?”

“Mostly just reading. I slept in a bit late as well.” You could hear his smile through the phone. You occasionally had contact with Spencer outside of work, but not very often. It was nice. “What time is your dinner?”

“Six! It’s just an old friend from college,” you explained, sighing.

“Not excited?” He questioned, an air of humor to his voice.

“I just don’t know what to wear,” you chuckled.

Spencer went quiet on the other end. “You know that one black shirt you have?” He questioned.

You tilted your head a bit. “I have a lot of black shirts, Spence. You gotta be more specific. Wait- did you use your freaky memory to memorize the contents of my closet?”

“It’s not freaky, but yes. And it wasn’t fully intentional.” A pause. “I’m talking about the one with the lace. It’s… like a tank top.” You scanned through your clothes.

“Is it the velvet one?” You asked, noticing a pattern.

“Yeah. That one.”

“You have a thing for velvet, don’t you?” You giggled, remembering his fingers running over the fabric of the dress you had worn a few days prior.

“Maybe I do.”

You took the shirt off the hanger and examined it. Not a bad choice. “Any suggestions for the bottom half, sir?” You teased.

Spencer inhaled loudly. Hah. For once you were the one to catch him off guard. “Well, my first instinct is one of those skirts you like to wear when the team goes out together, with nothing else on underneath, of course.” You opened your mouth to argue. “But I wouldn’t want to risk giving anyone a peek of what’s mine. A skirt would still look nice, though.” He finished.

You rolled your eyes. “So shorts, then.” You said, grabbing a skirt. Why would you want to give him any more confidence of the control he had over you? The skirt had been a good idea, but you didn’t have to be totally honest, right?

Spencer chuckled. “Have you always been so petty?” He questioned.

“Have you always been such a sexual deviant?” You fired back.

“Touché, y/n. Touché.”

You and Spencer hung up a few minutes later since you had dinner plans to make. They weren’t anything special but you valued being punctual. The dinner went well enough, at least in the beginning. The “old friend” you were meeting up with was just a guy you were friends with in college. Your mistake, you would later learn, was deciding that it would be cute to take some pictures for Instagram. They were totally innocent, of course, but within a few minutes of posting them, you got a text message from the one and only Spencer Reid. You told your friend it was a “work thing”, not a total lie, and examined.

‘You wore the skirt’

You chuckled at your phone. ‘I did.’

‘Did you take my advice and wear nothing underneath?’

‘No, because I’m not crazy.’ You rolled your eyes a bit.

‘I’m sure your friend would’ve liked it.’

Before you could reply another text came through. ‘When are you planning on being finished with that friend, by the way?’

‘I’m not sure. Why? Something you’re looking forward to?’

‘Just trying to figure out if I’m going to get to leave bruises on that pretty little neck of yours tonight or tomorrow.’

Another text. Damn, he was a fast typer.

‘I wonder what your friend would’ve thought of that? Maybe you should schedule another dinner with him after I’ve absolutely ruined you. Let him see what a pathetic slut you are for me.’

You glanced up at your friend and back at your phone. Was Spencer seriously doing this right now? “Sorry,” you mumbled an apology across the table. “Working in the FBI can be annoying.”

‘Why are you doing this?’ You typed out.

‘Doing what? Getting you all needy and wet while you’re on your dinner date? Because I can.’

‘You think I’m enjoying this?’

‘I know you are. I bet your thighs are pressed together, I bet your face is bright red. Have you told your friend what you’re texting about?’

‘You make a lot of assumptions, Spencer.’

‘If you weren’t enjoying this, y/n, you would’ve stopped replying a long time ago. What was it you said last night? You need me? Don’t you need me to fuck you? I could’ve been fucking you right now, you know. Could’ve had your face pressed down into the mattress, or maybe I could’ve bent you right over your kitchen counter..’

You weren’t even sure how long you had been on your phone at this point. You felt bad but… fuck. What exactly were you supposed to do in this situation? “Listen I, um,” you began to stutter out. “You know how the BAU is, always calling me in at odd hours, and I uh,” you began to stutter out excuses as your phone dinged over and over again.

‘I wish I could see how flustered you are right now.’ ‘I wonder if you’re thinking about getting on your knees for me..’ ‘Maybe about how badly you want to know how my cock feels inside of you.’

Your friend got the gist of it. You had to go because of “work”. You paid the tab, exiting the restaurant as casually as you possibly could. You texted as you walked back to your car.

‘If you wanted to ruin my night, you’ve successfully done it. I’ll be at my apartment in 20.’

You turned off your phone, shoving it into your purse and ignoring the incessant chimes of text notifications, finding your way home. A few minutes after you had settled, you heard a knock at your door. You braced yourself, pulling it open. “Spencer.” You smiled. “What a surprise.” He didn’t respond, eyes scanning your figure. “So,” you continued. “Do you wanna tell me why you decided to bombard me with text messages during my lovely evening out?” You raised a brow.

He considered your question, fidgeting with his hands. “When you told me that you were seeing a friend I didn’t realize you meant..”

“What, a guy?” You chuckled. “Was I supposed to inform you of his gender beforehand?”

Spencer shook his head. “No. I just hate imagining all of the things that must have been running through his head about you.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not that it matters, but it’s not like that. He’s a friend.”

“Oh, I know. It’s not you I’m worried about. I mean, I doubt he could fuck you half as well as I could anyway, but he’s probably been fantasizing about you all night.” A bold statement indeed.

You just laughed. “I think maybe you’re projecting, buddy. You’re the one who blew up my phone and forced me to come home.”

“Forced? Unless my memory is somehow mistaken, I think you’re the one who made that decision.”

“Are you here to argue semantics with me or-“ He cut you off.

“And to your earlier point,” he took a step towards you. “I have no need to project. I’m the one who’s going to get to see you all bruised up and begging for my cock, aren’t I?”There it was. The switch. You had been waiting, waiting for the moment where he got annoyed with you. You opened your mouth, ready to push him even further over the edge. “I’d watch what you say now, little girl. I’m already planning on making sure you regret all the teasing you’ve done the past few days, don’t add insult to injury.”

He really had an issue with teasing, huh? Good. Easier to rile him up. “Is this where you start the whole training thing you were going on about yesterday? You gonna teach me some tricks? And if so, do I at least get some treats if I’m good?” You questioned, going directly against his words of warning. You were watching him closely, wanting to see him seethe. You felt a wave of confusion pass you over as he seemed unfazed, unfortunately maintaining composure. In fact, he stepped forward and closed the gap between your bodies, placing his hands on the hem of your skirt, fingers dancing along it.

“Are you done?” He asked, eyes not leaving yours.

You looked up at him, mind going blank. “Um. No. Fuck you.” You spat out quickly, a last-ditch effort to get more of a reaction out of him.

“Right. I’m not sure what I expected from such a useless little slut. You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Spencer mumbled. In one swift motion he was pulling your skirt down and watching it pool at your feet. He was kissing you just a moment later, hands holding your face firmly in place. You would’ve fought for control, but you could already tell it would be a futile effort. His fingers were digging into your skull, tangling in your hair, and his lips were relentless, barely giving either of you room to breathe. You could feel it now, though. The anger you had been working so hard to trigger was coming out in full force. When he eventually pulled away his hands moved from your head to your breasts, swirling around the lace and velvet that covered them. You were panting, watching him, the way his fingers flexed and his eyes followed his own movements. “You’re so pretty, it really is a shame you can’t behave yourself.” He pulled the shirt over your head, leaving you exposed.

He leaned down and began to assault your chest with his tongue, one of his hands shoving your panties to the side and inserting two fingers into your pussy without warning. Your hand flew to your mouth, attempting to stifle the embarrassingly loud moan that he had caused. He didn’t take it slow at all, no, he started off at a brutal pace, as if his mission was to get you to cum as quickly as possible. If that had been his mission, he was succeeding. Before you had a chance to tell him that you were close his lips were at your neck, biting hard enough that you were sure that makeup wouldn’t cover the aftermath. “Cum for me, slut. It’s not hard to tell that you’re close already. So fucking needy for me, all you do is fight me but look how easily you crumble. There’s no hesitation when my fingers are inside of you, huh?” You couldn’t reply even if you had wanted too, you were too busy struggling to keep yourself standing as your orgasm washed over you. Spencer helped, a hand behind you to keep you stable, but you were still shaking. “Good girl. Let’s see, how many more of those do we have left.” You looked at him with confusion. “Well, I’d say we have one from at the club, when you let your hand wander,” his fingers hadn’t let up, still pumping in and out of you. You were trying your best to focus on his words, but it was proving to be a difficult task. “Another from that night, how you touched yourself right where I could hear,” You wanted to argue or say anything really, but your voice was too busy moaning and whimpering as his thumb moved onto your clit. “One from earlier today, especially after that little stunt you pulled on Instagram. And at least one more for the show you just put on before I shut you up.” You were close again. Fuck. It was too close together. Too much stimulation. “What do you think, baby? Does 4 sound good? We can make it 3 right now if you cum for me.” He said ‘if’ like it was an option for you, but it was far from it. You moaned his name, probably loud enough to alert your neighbors, as your second orgasm arrived. “Fuck, oh my god, Spencer. Fuck.” You panted out, legs giving out beneath you. He chuckled, holding you up on his own and finally removing his fingers from inside of you. “Good girl. So good for me.” He praised, allowing you to catch your breath. He picked you up now, taking you to your bed, and gently placing you down. You watched as he began to pull off layers of clothing. You didn’t think you could get any more turned on than you already were but seeing Spencer undress definitely did it. You couldn’t peel your eyes away. He left his boxers on, his dick straining against them.

He moved onto the bed, hovering over you. You prepared yourself for him to kiss you again but instead he spoke, brushing a hair out of your face. “The only words I want to hear coming out of that filthy little mouth of yours from now on are ‘yes, daddy’. Do you understand?”

You gulped. Yes. You understood. But were you actually going to-

His had went to your throat, not applying pressure. A warning.

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good girl.” He flipped you over onto your stomach, inhaling sharply. He moved his hands underneath your hips, picking them up so that your ass was displayed.

“Look at you,” he tugged your panties down your thighs, hands skimming over the skin. “Such a perfect little toy for me. So eager to be fucked.”

You squirmed, his hands being so close to where you desperately wanted them.

“Do you want this, baby?” He asked, his hand coming down on your ass. It stung, but only for a moment. Not his full force, you could tell, but it was enough to get you to squeal. “Y-Yes, daddy.” You spoke softly. You felt his hand leave your skin and braced yourself for it to return. It did, of course, but much harder this time. You flinched a bit but Spencer held you in place. “Look at you, such a fast learner.” He cooed, another blow landing on your ass. It hurt. You knew that. But you found yourself prioritizing the pleasure in your mind. “You said that you wanted bruises that lasted for weeks, right?” He asked, hand coming down again. The pain began to become ever-more present, even when his hand wasn’t on your skin you could feel the sting from the cool air. He repeated the process a few times, mumbling words of praise in between. Tears began to spill from your eyes when he was finished. Without his hand to support you, you crumbled back down on the bed, laying on your stomach. Spencer flipped you over gently, watching the tears flow. “Good girl,” he praised, wiping a few of them away. “Such a perfect little slut for daddy. You did so well.” You found yourself relishing in the praise up in a way you hadn’t before. “T-Thank you, daddy.” You breathed out shakily. Spencer smiled at you and began to spread your legs apart gently. “But you’re not done yet, are you baby?”

Your eyes widened at the reminder. It seemed impossible. You weren’t sure your body would even be able to take it. You began to protest, but your words were cut short as he began to trail kisses down your body. He didn’t waste much time on his way to your pussy, tongue grazing your clit. “Oh, fuck..” your back arched instinctively. Encouraged by your reaction, Spencer began to roll his tongue over your clit and then down towards your entrance, moving his face and tongue at a slow pace. You watched, his hair falling onto your thighs and tickling them gently. “F-Fuck, keep going. Please.” You whined. He chuckled against you, speeding up his pace. Both of his hands were planted on your thighs, keeping them spread for easier access. His tongue worked against you harshly. Demanding. He was exploring, making sure to taste every inch of you, moving like he wouldn’t be satisfied until he had. You felt a familiar knot begin to form in your stomach, your hips bucking up towards his face. He moved one of his hands to your stomach, pressing down firmly, pinning your body down to the mattress. “Daddy, fuck, I’m gonna cum. I-I’m so close. You feel so fucking good. Fuck. So good, so good, so-“ And there it was, your 3rd orgasm of the night. Your vision became blurry, you were barely even aware of the fact that Spencer had gotten fully naked until a few moments later when you were coming back down to Earth.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me, baby. Only two more. You can do two more, can’t you?” You were weak. You guessed 3 orgasms and some spanking would do that to someone, but your body still ached for him. He approached you, his hand moving to slide your legs apart once again. You whimpered in anticipation. “Beg for me, baby. Tell daddy how badly you need him.” His voice was low, commanding.

“Please Spencer, fuck, I need it. I need to feel you inside of me. It’s all I’ve been able to think about all day, please. I want you to ruin me. You need to ruin me, please.”

Spencer seemed content with your response because after a few moments he was pushing himself inside of you, releasing a string of curses from his mouth as he did. The intrusion was piercing as he split you open, your eyes rolling back into your skull. Fuck. Yes. This was what you needed. “You’re so wet and tight for me baby.” Spencer groaned, slowly pulling out and pushing himself back in. “So fucking good. Such a good little fucktoy.” He began to find a rhythm, his hips snapping into yours aggressively. The noise of his skin meeting yours filled the room, broken only by the moans that were tumbling out of you uncontrollably now. After all of the overstimulation you had already been through, your fourth orgasm built up quickly. “No one else can make you feel like this, isn’t that right baby? Fuck. No one else can make you cum like I can.”

He was right. He was fucking right. Out of every sexual encounter you had ever had... this one stood miles above.

“No one.” You agreed. “No one else. No one but you.” Your words were coming out barely comprehendible. “Fuck. Please no more,” you began to whine, your release catching up to you. Spencer reached up, closing a hand around your neck to silence you. “Shh baby, just cum for me. Cum for me, come on. You’re so close.” Tears began to flow again as your 4th climax ripped through you, every single one of your nerves on fire. You felt like you were being torn apart. Your tears clouded your vision, but it hardly mattered. You were seeing stars. You could hear, somewhere in the distance, it felt like, Spencer praising you, his hand releasing your neck. You gasped for air, panting, and sputtering.

One more. One more. One more.

“Fuck, Spence, I can’t.” You sobbed, “I can’t.” You repeated. “You can and you will.” He replied, voice shaking. He was close too. You could tell. His thrusts were becoming more sporadic, more frantic. “You’ve been so fucking good for me, baby. Keep going.” Fuck. When your vision returned you saw him, sweat dripping down his body, his hair matted down, and you could feel yourself clench around him. Your body ached, but you could still feel it approaching. “F-Fuck. Fuck. I..” you were a mess, whimpering, shaking, all because of Spencer Reid. “I know baby. Cum with me. I wanna feel you cum around my cock.” Spencer groaned, and you didn’t have the strength left in you to fight. Your body was set aflame as you came, feeling the warmth of his own climax as well. You were panting, grasping at consciousness and you came down. Somewhere in your brain, you processed Spencer getting off of the bed. When your mind came back to you you sat up, sweat dripping down your forehead.

“Spencer..” you said softly, watching as he pulled back on his shirt. “That was...”

He nodded, lost in thought.

“Are you okay?” You asked, frowning.

“I’m fine. Just thinking about how you’re gonna hide those hickeys on Monday.”

You touched your hand to your neck. “Oh. Yeah. That might be an issue.”

You got ready to hop off the bed, but a wave of pain rushed over you. Too soon to start moving again.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Spencer’s voice was sweet now, laced with concern. “I’ll go get you some Advil or something. You have some right?” You nodded. “I can run a bath if you want, too.”

“That would be great. Thanks.” You smiled weakly.

As left the room your phone dinged, alerting you of a text message from Garcia.

‘Girls night tomorrow!! You can’t say no, Emily and JJ already said yes.’

Fuck.

taglist <3

@101donuts @annestine @spideyboix @babybloomer @welcome-to-hoeville @eldahae

[winterstorm12]

Fearful Part 5

*Warnings: some light swearing*

Longer than normal, sorry!

Part 6

English is not my first language, so all mistakes are my own.

The plane landed and Steve threw your arm over his shoulder while you limped down the back exit. Bucky followed suit and Natasha joined you outside, an apologetic expression on her face.

‘Thanks Natasha’, Cap nodded and continued walking with you towards the building ahead. Steve had filled Natasha in on what had happened between you and Bucky in the cargo hold. So she didn’t want to comment on the state of your prosthetic leg and simply nodded back.

The building had definitely seen some shit, but looked sturdy enough. You didn’t see any SHIELD agents stationed around, so your guess was that only a few of the avengers, and whoever they asked to join them, resided here. They must have finally gotten the hint from years ago, you thought to yourself. But it was too late now.

When the group got closer to the building entrance, Stark walked out to greet his teammates.

‘Um Cap... Why isn’t the target in handcufs?’

‘There is not need to treat Y/N like a criminal Stark! Least we can do is offer some comfort, okay!?’ Steve answered rather angrily. 

Steve ignored the further fuss Tony was making and guided you inside. ‘Don’t worry Y/N... I promise that this time it will be different. I trust you.’ You didn’t respond to Steve immediately, but you could feel his gaze on you. 

‘Sure....’ you said after a pause between the two of you. No matter how nice Steve was being with you, you would not trust him or the others every again. The moment your leg got repaired you would make your escape.  

Annoyed by Cap not following protocol, Tony stopped Bucky in his tracks.

‘You agree with Steve on this? Thought you were against the whole idea of bringing Y/N in the first place!?’

Bucky huffed and pushed Stark aside. ‘I follow Steve, even if I don’t agree with him.’

He walked past Stark and went inside the building.

Lost for words by the attitude of the 2 super soldiers, Natasha patted Tony on the back. ‘Come on tin man. We’ve had a rather long night and we still need to debrief you about the mission.’

Not being able to hide his grin due to Natasha’s attempt to cheer him up, Stark sight and followed her inside.

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

Steve walked you to a medium sized room with a round table in the middle, surrounded by chairs. There were some monitors on the walls and maps scathered across. You didn’t pay much attention to it because your were planning on leaving ASAP. 

‘I know you must be tired, but please bear with us for a couple minutes.’ Steve carefully dropped you on one of the chairs and took the seat next to you. 

Your head felt like it would implode at any moment. Too much had happened in the last couple of hours, and now you were stuck in the place you did NOT want to be at. 

A door swung open and Bucky, Stark and Natasha entered the room. Bucky took the seat furthest away from both you and Steve and Natasha sat down on the table top. 

‘So...? ’ Tony broke the silence. 

Steve cleared his throat and began to talk. He explained the situation to Tony and what had happened during the mission. He left out the part where Bucky broke your leg, and said it happened during your fight. 

When Cap finished his briefing, Stark crossed his arms and paced back and forth. ‘So, what you’re saying is that Y/N is not hostile?’

‘That is exactly what I’m saying,’ Steve answered. 

‘And you want me to just trust your word because you’re America’s hero?’ Stark noted with reluctance coloring his voice.   

 ‘Well... I wouldn’t say that,’ Steve said with a laugh, ‘But you could trust me because we’re friends who have gone through hell and back.’

Stark shook his head but a grin was clear on his face. 

‘Didn’t take you for a man who would put guilt on others’.

‘You know why I had to do it Tony’. No need to point fingers at one another. Just have to make things right wouldn’t you say?’

Tony’s rolled his eyes and looked at you. You sat leaned back in your chair with your arms crossed. No idea what they we’re talking about but hoping that they would shut up soon.

‘Fine... Bring Y/N to my lab so we can have a look’. 

Steve smiled and turned towards you in a hushed voice. ‘Told you it would be alright’. 

You didn’t respond and just nodded slightly. If they wanted to kill you they sure as hell dragged it out for far too long..... Steve got up from his chair and help you back up. Supporting you once more he followed Stark out of the room. 

Bucky watched you limp out of the room and folded his hands. He wasn’t sure whether it would be a good idea to follow you into the lab. After all, he didn’t leave a great impression with breaking your leg and all that. Bucky knew he had crossed the line and shouldn’t have broken your leg. But meeting you... it brought up a lot of burried memories. It was too close to home. Instead of acting like a rational human, he went the asshole route. And now, seeing you limping away with Steve supporting you, he felt he could never make it up to you.

-FLASHBACK-

Steve had told Bucky about you a couple months ago. He didn’t tell the whole story at first, but said enough to make Bucky not liking the plan to find you. ‘Why do you want to save her? You made it pretty clear she is dangerous!’ 

Steve shook is head and put a hand on his best friends shoulder. ‘Because Buck...I never gave up on you when you were at your worst’. This hit a nerve with Bucky. Steve was always honest and upfront about everything, but something didn’t feel right about this.

He kept pestering Steve to give him the full story, or he would walk. Steve gave up and shared parts of the story he had left out. 

He explained that they had tried to bring you in a couple of years ago. During the time where Bucky was MIA. They heard about you through whispers and knew they had to stop you. When Bucky was the Winter Soldier, Hydra did not stop there. The program continued, but they weren’t able to replicate their success. Until.... you. 

Hydra knew they had to create a backup version of Bucky, in case things went south. So, they created you. But, they made sure to learn from their mistakes with their orginal version. Bucky had too many emotions still in him. So even when they programmed him, the emotions were still there. To ensure a fully complacent soldier, they beat the emotions out of your system. Tortured you till there was nothing left but a shell. This to make sure they had the perfect killing machine. One without emotion and ready to kill.

And instead of a string of words to trigger you to obey, they opted for a ‘’quicker version’’. They perfected it to only 1 phrase and a string of numbers. Due to the lack of emotions, you were practially a doll without a will. Precisely what Hydra wanted. They would put you on ice between missions and have you kill lots of people when you were let out, same as Bucky. While your death count wasn’t as high as Bucky’s, you could become a problem if they didn’t stop you in time.

Steve mentioned that their first encounter with you didn’t go well. They lost a lot of agents and it was almost impossible to track you down. And with Steve focussing on finding his best friend, he had almost forgotten about you. Letting Fury take the lead on finding you.

It wasn’t till your last encounter 3 years later that he started to see similarities between you and Bucky. Steve felt he would be able to help you the same way he was helping is friend. Bucky had made a lot of progress in those 3 years, so that means that the same thing could be done for you. If they could find you... 

The problem was, HYDRA had become more careful after losing Bucky and only send you out on high priority missions. They made sure to keep your emotions null and ensured that no information of images from the avengers would ever be shown to you. They were worried that a possible memory connection could happen if they didn’t.  Helping Bucky had been tough, but you were proving to be a whole nother level of difficulty. You had no shared memories with them, so he couldn’t use that to ease you in. Nor did you have any visible emotions to start a connection. 

When luck struck, they managed to catch up with you before you could murder a prime mister in Poland. It was a massive fight, but in the end they managed to capture you and bring you back to HQ. In the following months (while Bucky stayed in Wakanda), Steve kept you company and tried talking to you. Experiments were performed on you and after a while, he managed to build a fragile connection with you. While you could still be hostile, Steve noticed with him around, you would be less likely to attack someone. He shared some of his stories with you and showed you his notebook he started using after getting out of the ice. He would let you listen to music and even brought you some books to read. You were still a shell, but Steve saw a little flicker of life starting to burn within you. 

It wasn’t till the night before you escaped that you had a longer conversation than normal with him. And shared some information which was too outlandish for Steve to believe being true...at the time. But Cap didn’t include this last part of the story in the version he told Bucky. 

Bucky felt sick to his stomach when Steve finished the story. He never imagined that there was someone else that went throught the same horror he had experienced. 

‘I hope you now get why we want to capture her Buck. There may be hope for her. As there was for you.’ Steve’s face was riddled with shame and pain. He was honest for 99%. But the last 1% of the story he didn’t share with his best friend. He couldn’t bring himself telling Bucky that he had betrayed your trust.

- END OF FLASHBACK - 

Lost in thought Bucky didn’t move. Natasha noticed Bucky’s hesitance and jumped up from the table. ‘Come on grumpy! You’re the only one with experience when it comes to those builds of prosthetics, so you might be able to assist Stark.’

Bucky shook his head but Natasha wasn’t having any of that. She pulled Bucky up by his arm and pushed him out of the room.  

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

Stark’s lab wasn’t as high tech as your thought it would be, but still impressive non the less. Steve put you on a table but remained close to you. Almost acting as a guardian of sorts. 

Tony grabbed some gear and repositioned a light above you so he could see better. ‘Hop on’, he said. You turned your torso and lifted you legs further on the table. ‘Just lay down for me and relax’.

‘Easy for you to say when you wanted to kill me a couple years ago’, you noted. 

Stark froze for a moment but recollected himself by focussing on your leg. ‘Doesn’t look great’, he murmured to himself. ‘Tibia and fibula-esk structuring broken.... Unknown liquid leakage.... and cracks in the outershell...’ Stark kept tinkering around in your leg while you stared at the ceiling. Why do they want to help you now, after all those years? 

You got pulled out of your thoughts when the door to the lab opened. Natasha walked in with Bucky behind her. Bucky looked in your eyes before quickly averting his gaze. Almost like it would hurt if he kept looking at you. Natasha pulled him towards the couch near the wall and motioned him to take a seat. 

Steve nudged you and motioned to your jacket. ‘Want to take it off? It’s practically hanging by a thread’. Not caring about the piece of fabric, you tore it off and threw it on the floor. Bucky looked in your direction and his eyes went wide. He was right, back in the plane he saw metal peaking through your jacket. And now he saw the source. Both your lower arms were prosthetics! Now he felt even worse than he did before entering the lab. 

The lab stayed quiet aside from Tony murmuring to himself and the sound from tools and titanium meeting each other. 

After what felt like years, Stark finally finished his assessment. 

‘I will need a couple of days to come up with a new design. So until then you will have to do without your right leg. I will remove the prosthetic the best I can to make it less of an inconvenience for you.’ 

You nodded, not fully getting what he was talking about and just layed back on the table. Stark carefully removed parts of the prosthetic untill you were left with only your upper leg part. He walked to a closet on the other side of the room and grabbed some old crutches. 

‘Here, use these for the time being. It will give you some mobility back’. Staring at the crutches you weren’t to sure what to do with them. Steve noticed and took them from Tony. 

‘I’ll show you how to use them, okay?’ He offered a smile and nudged you to sit up. After a couple minutes you got the hang of it and started walking throught the room. ‘There you go!’ Steve laughed. 

‘I’ll need to do some futher examinations tomorrow on your arms. Bring Y/N by around 9 tomorrow.’ 

Steve nodded and opened the door for you. ‘Room 9 is available’, Tony murmured while cleaning up his tools. 

‘I knew you were a softy deep down Stark!’ Cap replied and followed you out the door. Tony answered by throwing a wrench at Steve, but he was already gone. 

Bucky got up from the couch, ready to go back to his room. This day couldn’t have gone worse and his head was pounding. ‘Not yet soldier’, Stark remarked. ‘Could use your insights one this one’. Reluctantly, Bucky walked up to Stark and listened to him rambling on about schematics and technical mumbo jumbo.