#and EITHER WAY they just fuck off and vanish on me afterwards! like they were never there at all!

[lightkrets312]

sometimes I get frustrated about whatever my romantic orientation is, because the only way I can explain it is "ding dong ditching ME at the door".

[i-read-that-manga-for-you]

Given

Admittedly, I read this manga a long time ago. Like when chapters were still coming out. I was still in high school at the time (holy fuck) and couldn't really articulate my feelings as well as I can now.

I had left this review (bits and pieces of it) on a manga site and decided I might as well put it on my tumblr, finetuning it, of course. First post, because in spite of its flaws, Given is still close to my heart. And I reread it again (somewhat) to make this a better review. I hope each person who reads this will reimburse me with 50 cents each (jk don't). So here it is. My impression of Given, with !!some!! talk about how SA is treated in BL/Yaoi culture in general.

Or not, this is just my two cents with no anthropology degree.

Do take what I say with a grain of salt, a piece of creative media does not exist in a vacuum, but this review treats it as one at times because I'm not really skilled enough to talk about any wider implications. I'm just some guy giving my review.

Spoilers ahead. Go ahead.

TW: Sexual Assault.

Honestly, this manga made me feel a lot. Good and bad feelings. But let's focus on what I liked.

Ugetsu.

He's on the phone, shhh.

I found Ugetsu to be a very compelling character, and it was a huge shame that he vanished partway through the manga. Basically? I have no criticisms about him as a character, he has his flaws and he's nuanced. He's interesting and compelling, and it's clear that he's someone who is still growing and learning to walk on his own two feet. I won't deny that his relationship with Akihiko was very toxic, but I definitely think this isn't something that can be blamed solely on him.

But with this out of the way. Let's talk about the pairings.

Let's talk about Akiharu.

Kizu Natsuki is an amazing artist... Even when I have certain issues with this manga.

Well. I have a lot of qualms with Akiharu.

For starters, Akihiko assaulted Haruki. I'll never forget that. The fact that they ended up getting together anyway was a huge point of contention for me. Given was framed as a story about love more than a traditional story about BL/yaoi which (sorry) usually leans towards the sex. (This is not to say that sex and romance are separated, well they are but they are linked rather than being one in the same. You can have either, like they're hot/cold water but they come from the same faucet.)

But I feel that having this scene in rather than an argument feels completely wrong. I'm someone who will digest pretty much anything the world throws at me, but the Akiharu assault scene came off wrong and it came off scary. (Note: I say scary but I definitely mean much more than that, I just feel like "shouldn't be romanticized" doesn't encapsulate all of it. This topic is not something I'm qualified to talk about, so I don't want to overstep any boundaries.)

And to be honest, that's good because SA shouldn't be romanticised, for that, a big well done to our author. I just wish the aftermath was dealt with better.

This is terrifying. Please retract your words.

In spite of the SA scene being scary, afterwards all seemed to be resolved the moment it was revealed that Akihiko had nowhere else to go.

Everything for them goes uphill from here. Yay.

I just have to wonder what was the point of that buildup if you were just going to allow things to end nicely like that. With a scene like that, you'd think that the manga was saying that "SA is scary, it's terrifying and it's something that you shouldn't forget even if it's BL/Yaoi." But, why did it end up like this.

What I'm trying to say is: What does it matter that Akihiko apologised (twice), he still assaulted Haruki, he assaulted a friend. Even worse is the way that they're framed as a healthy couple afterwards, this just made me all the more uncomfortable. I feel like this is saying "SA is scary" but also saying "the power of love and friendship absolves everything". I've seen some people talk about the fact that SA happened, but haven't seen them say how it was "resolved". I think it's more to do with yaoi/BL fiction culture, that we've grown to accept SA that is unaddressed in our media to the point that Akihiko's apology is like a prayer more than something that's not even worth a second glance.

Saying that Akiharu started off rocky is an understatement, but if I pretend it never happened, I can say for sure that they are much healthier than Akigetsu, and they deserve each other. It's just not good storytelling especially because I don't really understand the motivations of Haruki liking Akihiko.

I once said that Haruki's character arc was based on Akihiko and that was my bad. I was wrong. Haruki, in fact, has a minor character arc, that isn't really to do with Akihiko, about how he feels insecure surrounded by geniuses in the band and this gets resolved by Akihiko saying that they wouldn't be able to function if all of them were geniuses, and Haruki himself seeing Akihiko hard at work. But I had completely forgotten about this arc, my bad, but my point still stands. Haruki deserved a better character arc.

I don't have a smart comment for this unfortunately. Eat your veggies??

In spite of saying this, I'm not an Akiharu hater, I swear. But I just found that ship much less compelling than Akigetsu in general. Akigetsu was a relationship where they were both incredibly toxic towards each other, there was an imbalance in the fact that Ugetsu literally owned the place they were living in, as well as how he'd kick Akihiko out whenever things were rocky. However, I think the end of their relationship was dealt well on both sides, their toxicity towards each other was framed in a negative light as it should have been. They ended the relationship and went their separate ways, this was the best ending for them. For Akiharu and Akigetsu: The difference between these two relationships is that one was dealt well and the other was dealt wrong. Akiharu deserve each other and Ugetsu deserves to learn how to grow by himself.

Anyway, another point of contention was, in spite of the healthy nature of Akiharu. Somehow, the friendship between the two couples seems to have waned and it was pretty disappointing to see. I think it started before this, but the first time it was obvious to me was this scene.

I know you're in the middle of something, but don't be mean to Mafuyu >:(.

Context: This is Chapter 40. Akiharu are in a moment of intimacy and Uenoyama is knocking at their door trying to get advice.

We've seen that Mafuyu is a very reserved person, to see that Akihiko was so ready to tell Mafuyu to stop coming over (even if it is to stop him from coming over so suddely) right to his face was extremely immature.

Basically, imagine if that had been Mafuyu. Personally, I feel like Mafuyu would have been hurt like hell and closed right back up. This scene is something played for laughs and that's something so disappointing. Given is shown to be a band of friends, but in the end it seemed more like two couples who hang out sometimes. Also the fact that both Akihiko and Haruki are pushing Uenoyama to get Mafuyu to rejoin the band. That's something else that bothers me heavily. That they're treating Mafuyu as Uenoyama's responsibility because they're dating. It's a band that is sure to fall apart if you are not making an effort to support each other equally. I mean, it doesn't have to be entirely equal but points for effort and they get no points here. It's funny because they were at least a little self-aware of this prior.

Dating in a band is something that is nuanced, of course. But it sure is funny to see them practically go down the same route they condemned.

That's my criticism of Akiharu.

So, what about the other instance of SA? I'm talking about Shizusumi and Hiiragi, of course.

Let's talk about Shizuragi.

Here they are! Let's talk about them!

Admittedly the first time around, I wasn't particularly into Shizuragi, I was too busy mourning the absense of Ugetsu. But it was during their sex scene where I realised something was very wrong. I was having flashbacks to the Akiharu assault chapter but this time it was played as "love" rather than something reprehensible. Once again, assault was in the manga and it, once again, resolved with badly.

I feel like sexual assault being played off as "love" and being resolved literally the next chapter with the victim being all kosher with it, should be garnering people's "??? what the fuck"s and not to bat for the opposing team for once but where are the complaints. I've actually seen some people talking about this chapter, but I would have expected more.

Hiiragi said he was scared and was crying, but they still fucked anyway. :D <- smile of shock.

Um what. Haha... ha........ :D <- terrifed smile of shock.

I don't know whether it would have been worse that he knew he was assaulting Hiiragi or whether he didn't know at all. But he knew.

Shizusumi confessed his love the morning after and it was all okay. But, to be honest, the fact that it was played off as being "all okay" makes this even worse. It's normal in yaoi/BL for SA to be played off as love, but you'd think that the last place you'd see this is in Given of all places. SA is SA and the fact that Hiiragi was so accepting of what happened to him afterwards says something about this the culture of BL/yaoi and how we just go along with it says something about this sentiment of how "yaoi is always going to be yaoi".

We're done? We're done.

There are no more SA scenes (that I can remember). But I do want to touch on Mafuyu and Uenoyama as briefly as possible (This is a recount of my experience after all). So, Mafuyama.

Ah, yes. The start of everything.

Admittedly, I didn't actually find their relationship super compelling. This is because I tend to get tunnel vision on characters I like (in this case, I heavily tunnel visioned on Ugetsu). I do like them both, they just didn't fit within my vision. I thought they were sweet but I also see a lot of complaints about how Mafuyu was stuck on Yuki and Uenoyama was getting backseated and I do agree with this. Kind of.

I think Mafuyu's story is about growth as a person, it's like what people say: You don't move on or lose your grief, you grow around it. Grief doesn't get smaller, you just get bigger. The person he loved died and I don't think it's fair to say that he has to get over Yuki. Grief is something that sticks with you everywhere, something you have to carry every day. They're still teenagers, they're still young and still have room to grow.

But as a story? Sheesh, instead of Haruki having no place in their circle. I felt like Uenoyama, even when he's the protagonist, wasn't given his spotlight in his own story. There is no character arc for him, there is nothing for him and that's just not fair. There are two people in a relationship, so why does it always feel like, narratively, Uenoyama always comes as an afterthought?

You could have had a character arc about this... Relationships are meant to be balanced, sweetie...

I just think it's a shame, but they're nowhere near as unhealthy as the other couples in Given, so I'm giving them a gold star.

(Minor irk, I do not remember when this happened but why the hell does Yayoi (Uenoyama's sister) get a character arc (where she comes to an understanding about Mafuyama feelings for each other, but also the gay in general) but the man himself doesn't?)

So, with Mafuyama, I feel like the story could have focused a little more on Uenoyama's side. But I feel like it's similar to how Haruki's story kind of got the backseat to Akigetsu drama happenings at the time. Shrug, we can't have it all.

He's beautiful...

That's honestly... all my thoughts. Wow! That was a lot of them. I think there's a lot to be said about how yaoi treats SA and dub-con in general, even in a manga that's not even focused on the sex.

With that said, I don't think BL shouldn't have SA or dubious scenes but the aftermath should be dealt with better afterwards. I think with Given, it's a start that the SA (at least with Akiharu) wasn't romanticised, but the aftermath was just poorly executed.

But I'm not the yaoi police, I hold no authority and I don't support purity culture. I'm not an anti-anything and I also believe that fiction should be fiction. What people enjoy should no way equate to a person's worldview. But, this was just all my perspective and my opinion. I said it and now I'm done. Haha... Anyway, my paypal is—

[reilleclan-blog]

The fact Sasuke Uchiha was equivalent to a school ooter and ALOT of ppl saying he was right is very hilarious. (Also I'm a fan of Sasuke I just hated the shippuden part of him cause he was sounding so fucking dumb when he's fighting Naruto)

Sasuke was so scared of love that he wanted to kill his "bff" over it cause Naruto never stopped loving him. "Never gave up on him" or "cut him off" the most love Sasuke ever felt was with Naruto that's why he was constantly reminded of his family and Itachi when he was with Naruto. Sasuke had to hate Itachi so he could be able to redeem his family so he was alone but Naruto would remind him of the good and the bad of what happened with his family . That's why he was so adamant on killing Naruto. He wanted to be fully alone cause// Sasuke was disguising his fear of love with the idea that he wanted to avenge Itachi and shit but to be fair Sasuke was lied to his whole life so I still understand why he went crazy asf and wanted to kill danzo but afterward he had to direct his anger towards something else so it was towards the leaf village. (He eliminated his brother's biggest enemy but he still chose to fight the leaf// that turned into him wanting to become "hokage")

Also to pivot back to the topic of Sasuke wanting to become the "most hated" or "take on all the hate" he was essentially trying to make himself into the next Madara and we see how that was turning out cause he was literally living it. Becoming the most hated is pointless when u are already surrounded by ppl that are trying to love u, but Sasuke again was terrified of it it's as if he thought he couldn't deserve that love as well. Like in the animation he is pained his face he makes trying to "not believe" Naruto and believe he could be back in the good graces of the leaf or feel loved like Naruto keeps telling him.

And then when they think they are both dead after their big fight , Sasuke looks and acts relieved that him and Naruto are together but dead. Naruto was the one freaking out about being dead while Sasuke isn't even trying to figure it out he's just chillin with Naruto lol. In a way, when he thought they were both dead Sasuke seemed like he was missing Naruto once he vanished (i guess when Naruto woke up)

Also Sasuke always freaks the fuck out everytime Naruto basically says "I WONT STOP LOVING U" and Sasuke is just like "PLEASE STOP LOVING ME LET ME BE ALONE" that's basically what it was. Platonic or romantic love I like the ideas of both. I have no preference towards shipping. Ship, laugh love.

Another thing I'm gonna say is so many ppl hate Sakura either they are misogynistic or they think she's a terrible character. 1) most of the shit ppl hated Sakura for was literally the SAME SHIT Naruto and or Sasuke had done in the show but no one cared when them two did said thing.

2) Sakura was never ever planning to kill Sasuke she would never have it in her to ever do that to him. Literally the first time Sasuke is leaving the leaf village Sakura is trying to say anything to make him stay and since she knows he's not gonna stay she just tells him "let me come with u" and it's like Sakura was smitten with love(cough cough* like Naruto). And funny enough ppl love to bring up how Sasuke found her annoying but he constantly said the same shit about Naruto ... why b/c they BOTH LOVED SASUKE. They both loved Sasuke just in very different ways and ppl don't talk about it at all.

ppl talk about how Sakura and Naruto both wanted Sasuke back but never notice how they show their love so differently. Sakura could never fight Sasuke, Naruto was ready to fight Sasuke no matter the cause NARUTO STATES THAT HE WOULD BREAK EVERY BONE IN SASUKES BODY IF IT MEANT HE WOULD DRAG HIM BACK TO THE LEAF VILLAGE . Sakura would've just either let him kill her or joined in b/c she just loved him that much.

Anyways um yeah that's it I guess if u get mad over this imma just block u idc. I just wanna post about my hyperfixation don't dtm please also I'm surprised ppl don't talk about Sasuke being in confinement. Lol also Sasuke is neurodivergent 😴

[valerieismss]

I hope some of my residents or students or whatever (I’m 19, they’re all adults) have a crush on me…aghhh. Maybe a “I need RA Valerie like I need air” or a “RA Valerie is so fineeeee I want them so badddd” or even “Dude RA Valerie’s ass is so fat DAMN!” Anything would fix me. I miss being someone people had crushes on. This noticeably vanished as I put on the weight I did. But I am cute!! I wish I knew if people had casual crushes on me. What they think of me, if they see me like that.

I’m respected, I’m well liked, I’m admired, but am I…coveted? Do people want me to dominate them? Do people want to dominate me? If any of this is at all possible it’s probably the former. This is what people tend to want of me. I’m tall and assertive and direct. I’m also in four different positions where I’m something like a teacher or authority. I’m not really like that in bed. I’m more into power struggles than anything, and I HATE BEING THE ONLY ONE WHO DOMS. UGH!!! FUCK THAT SHIT!!! You will NEVER catch me doing that shit again.

I think one student of mine has/had a crush on me. He came in for stats tutoring. One time my friend and I and him were all chatting when he mentioned he forgot to take his meds. I was all, “go take your meds.” And he was all, “LOL I won’t do that I need to be mommied into that” and I took that literally. I didn’t realize that saying things like “So you feel bad. And when you take your medicine, you feel better, right? So what do you think we should do? Yes, good. I’ll be right here when you come back. I promise” would turn him on. According to my friend and also me because he was literally falling apart next to me, he was super red. And also vocalizing that this was super hot of me. It just now occured to me that actually this was at the same time that I had to work one table over from my fuck ass ex. Meaning. They probably heard it. And given that they wanted me to call them good girl in bed I hope that made them miserable. Important to mention: I am not into any of that at all, whether it be giving or receiving. I’m amazed I was able to pull that off for my ex without vomiting, and this incident was fully something I thought was a joke. I also thought his flustered reaction was a joke, since people treat the idea of being attracted to me as a joke. But it was not!

The only reason I didn’t feel super uncomfortable is because this student of mine isn’t a cis guy. I would’ve never even thought to entertain that if it was some cishet guy. I thought the whole thing was a bit (it was not). Whoops. In another session afterwards, I was tutoring him and my mentee. I mentioned I was single and lonely and he was like omg me too…we could just date each other hahaha! And I brushed it off. I am openly a lesbian I think. I probably should’ve mentioned that directly. Either way, it was nice knowing I’m attractive to someone…it didn’t seem like this was a serious crush I think he just fancied me. So I don’t think a rejection is morally necessary. Honestly, I’m still not sure. Lesbian seems to fit me the closest as of now, but that could change.

I’m not inclined to date a student or a resident of mine. Seeking that out from the position I’m in seems unethical. But if I’m not the one making the advances I’m not too opposed. It’s just not something I consider. The power dynamic is extremely minimal…I’m around a year older than these people, sometimes they’re older than me. That said, I do wish that instead of being this role model student I could be someone many people had small crushes on. I hope I expressed that right

[nobodyfamousposts]

Chloe's Lament

Why no! I'm still not over Miracle Queen, why do you ask?

_______________________

They were impossible odds to begin with.

That was why they had failed.

Miracle Queen smirked as Ladybug was stung by her wasps and put under her control. Seeing the once great hero brought low really filled her with vindictive satisfaction.

“See?” She sneered. “I didn’t need you. You needed me!”

If anyone had the right to destroy Ladybug, it was her. After all, hadn’t she deserved this? What right did Ladybug have to refuse her her Miraculous anyway?

Well, it didn’t matter anymore. Because now all of the Miraculous were hers. Including Ladybug’s and Chat’s.

“My lady!” Chat shouted, though he was helpless to stop it. Helpless to even escape the grasp of her guards.

And speaking of which…

Her guards didn’t move, simply standing in place while they waited for orders. She was mildly annoyed that they couldn’t think for themselves and simply take the Miraculous already to present to her in offering, but…

…actually, no. It was better if she did it. This was her victory, after all.

She considered starting with the sidekick. He had always been an eyesore, anyway.

But Chloe was never one for patience.

At her command, Ladybug approached, apparently unaware of the world around him. Before Miracle Queen, she placed both hands over her ears.

She...seemed to hesitate for a moment.

Miracle Queen arched a brow at that. Was there some part of her trying to resist?

“Give me the Earrings.”

Whatever hesitancy she had vanished and within a second, she had the Earrings off, causing the transformation to fade and revealing—

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng?!”

She barely heard that alley cat’s gasp. She took little notice of Hawk Moth or Mayura’s own responses. She outright ignored the little pink bug thing that appeared and blanched at her presence. She didn’t even register anything any of them said afterwards, her mind whirling from the implications.

She had always thought Ladybug this distant figure. Untouchable. Unreachable.

But for it to be her of all people?!

She wasted no effort on kindness, simply ripping the earrings out of the former Ladybug’s hands with a sneer.

Her own goody-goody classmate just stood there staring ahead blankly. Chloe almost regretted not leaving her unstung, if only so she could see her reaction as she lost everything.

Chloe bit back a snarl at the girl.

She had always been a pest. Always getting in Chloe’s way. Always acting as if she was actually worth anything compared to her. Always denying her—demeaning her—opposing her—stealing from her!

Her Adrien! Her Mom’s attention! And now her Miraculous!

Chloe grit her teeth.

Of course. OF FUCKING COURSE!

“Chloe! Please listen to me!” The Cat was pleading to her.

Chloe felt numb. Her mind still registering the truth.

Because how dare she? How dare she?!

How dare SHE of all people fool her like this!

Words seemed to warble through the static surrounding her.

“You don’t have to do this!”

Have to? Of course she didn’t.

Want to? Oh, she certainly did.

“If Hawk Moth gets both Miraculous, he’ll make the Wish and it could be catastrophic!”

Chloe rolled her eyes.

Like that pathetic stray knew anything.

Of course anyone would say whatever they could to convince Chloe. She barely paid him any mind, still ruminating over the clear deception. How Marinette had gotten one over on her. Again.

All this time, Marinette must have been laughing at her. Trying to use her! Now she lost and Chloe won and people were still acting like she knew better! Like she was still so perfect!

Pathetic.

How could Chloe have ever looked up to her?

“Chloe, please! You can’t let Hawk Moth win!”

“Shut up!”

Hawk Moth wasn’t the winner here, she was!

And she would prove it!

She didn’t even need to waste a wasp on the sidekick. With the guards holding him in place and at her command presenting his hand to her, she was able to get to his Ring easily. His attempts to throw them off or keep his hand closed and protected were useless as she removed the ring, causing his transformation to dissipate.

She gaped.

“Adrien?!”

Him. Adrien Agreste. The boy she loved. The only one who was good enough for her. And he was staring back at her from the same spot where that stupid cat had been.

Adrien…staring at her in a mix of horror and disappointment and rage.

“Chloe…how could you?”

How could she? No! How could he?! He knew who she was this whole time! Why didn’t he tell her? Why didn’t he stand up for her when Ladybug told her she wouldn’t be Queen Bee again? Or hell, give her the Miraculous in the first place? She thought they were friends!

She shoved away from him.

This…

This wasn’t her Adrien!

“Excellent job, Miracle Queen.” Hawk Moth called, pulling her from her thoughts. “Now bring me their Miraculous and the glory shall be yours.”

A pause.

She considered.

Ladybug was defeated. Hawk Moth had won. He had won because of Chloe—the person whom Ladybug—Marinette had looked down on. The city was under her control. Now everyone HAD to listen to and obey her.

Marinette had lost everything and could do nothing about it while Chloe was free to be the Queen she always deserved to be.

Wasn’t this enough?

Wasn’t all of this…finally enough?

Silence.

Hawk Moth was waiting.

Her subjects were waiting.

Everyone was waiting on Chloe.

It was all about Chloe now.

So…wasn’t that enough?

“No.”

This wasn’t enough.

This wasn’t nearly good enough to appease her.

Hawk Moth frowned.

“What?”

“No!” She replied. “I don’t have to. I don’t want to. And now that I have these, I don’t need to.”

She smirked up at him.

“I don’t need you anymore! I don’t need any of you!”

She held up the two Miraculous in victory.

“Now I’M the one in charge!”

“Chloe, don’t do it!” Adrien shouted. “You don’t know what the Wish will do!”

“I’m not listening to you anymore!” She shouted. “When Ladybu—when SHE refused to give me my Miraculous back, where were you?”

“Chloe!”

“NO! What right does she have to say who deserves a Miraculous or not? She should never have been Ladybug!” She shouted, stomping her foot. “She doesn’t deserve it! I do! And I just want what I deserve!”

“Miracle Queen, don’t be foolish!” Hawk Moth ordered. “You are to hand over the Miraculous to me!”

“So you can just take my power away and leave me in the dust? I don’t think so! No!” Chloe shook her head. “This power is mine!”

The power and the Wish—wasn’t that what they had said? Wasn’t that what Hawk Moth had been after all this time?

Well, it was Chloe who won. Not Hawk Moth or any of his other lame akumas! HER! So Chloe earned this!

Which meant that the Wish was rightfully hers!

She turned towards Marinette with a smirk.

And she knew exactly what she wanted with it!

But first, best to get the riff-raff out of her way.

With a flick of her control, the wasps converged on Hawk Moth and Mayura. In a matter of seconds, they were under her control as well. The last thing she needed was either of them getting in her way.

The kwamis gaped at her in surprise, like they didn’t think Chloe could plan for things? Please! These peons were so below her it was embarrassing!

Chloe was smart! She was smarter than anybody! Better than everybody! Certainly better than that wannabe heroine! Even the universe agreed! Why else would she be blessed as she was?

She looked down at the two Miraculous in her hands with a smirk because this? This just proved it!

Of course she was better! And now everyone would know it, too!

Especially…

She turned to face Marinette once more.

Because this time, there would be no interruptions for Chloe’s gloating.

And boy, was she going to gloat.

“So…how does it feel to be the one to lose for once?”

Marinette simply stared blankly, as if she didn’t actually understand what Chloe was talking about.

“All this time,” Chloe continued. “You’ve been playing it up for the masses. Making everyone love you. Pretending like you were actually worth something. And all just to look down on everyone and boost your own ego!”

She laughed.

It sounded hollow to her own ears.

She pushed through.

“Like it wasn’t bad enough even as a civilian! You were always showing off! I bet being a hero was everything you ever dreamed of so you could get twice the attention!”

Marinette didn’t respond.

Adrien, however, did.

“That’s not true!” He shouted, struggling in vain to pull out of the hold as he defended his ‘Lady’. Gag. Miss her with that shit. “She’s never shown off or done any of this for attention! She’s not that selfish!”

Chloe was only more infuriated.

“Of course she is! The glory! The popularity! The power it gives you over other people! Why else would someone like her be a hero?”

Adrien actually seemed to find his spine, because he glared at her.

“That might be what you would do, Chloe. But that’s your choice. That’s how you choose to respond to things. Not everyone is like that!”

“Adrikens!” She gasped, appalled that he would argue against her like this.

“No, Chloe! You’ve done some horrible things, but this is probably the worst! You helped Hawk Moth! You betrayed everyone!”

“Oh please!” She said, brushing him off. “I wasn’t helping him, I was only using him. Now the city is safe and it’s all thanks to me!”

“Then why aren’t you freeing everybody?” Adrien demanded. “Why reveal Marinette? Why take over the other heroes and make them fight us? Why not just use your power to control Hawk Moth and let everyone else go?”

“Why should I?” She asked, flippantly. “They were all useless anyway.”

She had always wanted people to respect and obey her, and now they would! So she would be waited on like the Queen she was, and they would have some actual purpose to their lives.

Really, if anything, she was the gracious one, here.

It wasn’t like any of them were useful otherwise.

But something seemed to upset Adrien, as he winced at her statement and shook his head. She didn’t really know why.

“No one is useless.”

She sighed.

“Oh, Adrikens.” She looked at him in pity. The poor boy just didn’t get how the world worked. “Of course they are. Why else am I here in charge,” she asked, gesturing to herself before turning her hand to gesture to the unmoving ‘Guards’ around them, “and they’re there waiting for orders?”

Whatever response he seemed to be expecting from her, that apparently wasn’t it as he stared at her in shock.

“Chloe, that’s horrible!”

“What? It’s only the truth.”

She won. Lady—Marinette lost. Everyone had to obey her. Why wouldn’t that be the case if she was wrong?

“But it’s okay now!” Chloe said cheerfully as she turned back to him. And—oh, he was drawing back from her. Here poor Adrikens. He always was skittish.

“Now it’s just the two of us. We can do whatever we want, live however we want, and have nothing to worry about. If there’s anything we need done, the peons can take care of it.“

She smiled.

“It’s you and me against the world!”

Just like it always was.

Just like it was supposed to be.

But Adrien…

…he only seemed to look more upset at that. Pale. Almost sick.

“No.”

She blinked, surprised.

“No?”

“No!” He repeated with more emphasis. “I don’t want that! Nobody wants that!”

“I want that!” She replied. Because that was what mattered! As long as she got what she wanted, things were fine! And now they always would be since she would always get what she wanted! What was wrong with that?

“Nobody else wants that!” Adrien bit out.

She rolled her eyes. “Well, they don’t matter.”

Honestly, he must have been stuck under Marinette’s thumb too long to actually take that whole ‘hero’ role seriously. Seriously, people were there to help THEM, not the other way around. It’s a good thing she saved him from that line of thinking.

“They do matter!” Adrien said with a hiss.

He paused, his gaze falling on Marinette.

“She matters.”

And his voice had gone so quiet and soft. She couldn’t recall a time he had ever spoken that way to her.

It only infuriated her.

“Oh please! What has she ever done for me?!”

Adrien actually seemed to look annoyed now. That was actually a new look for him, and she couldn’t recall a time he seemed so angry.

“Do you want a list?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh come on, there isn’t nearly enough to bother counting, much less make a list—”

“She stood up for you time and again. Both as Ladybug AND as Marinette. More than she had to, especially as the person you’ve been bullying all this time!” He stated flatly, giving her a glare. “She helped you with your Mom and supported you. She gave up on a once in a lifetime opportunity just because you were upset she was the one getting the offer to go with your mother instead of you. And that Queen Bee party everyone put on? Her work. She was the one who got everyone to do it.”

“No, she didn’t!” All of that was just because Chloe was that awesome and people had finally realized it.

“She did!” He insisted. “She stood up for you to Alya over your blatantly false account of how Zombizou was defeated and she got everyone to convincing everyone to throw you a party to make up for saying you weren’t a hero! Even though you never apologized! Even after you tried to get her kicked out of her home city!”

Chloe huffed. “Well, she deserved it! And why should I have had to apologize for anything? It was her own fault I had to do any of that to put her in her place! If she had left, everything would have been better off!”

That way, there would have been no one to challenge her. No one to take attention. No one to be compared to. No one to be reminded was ‘better’. No one for people to admire instead of her.

“She was useless anyway.”

And he just…stared at her. Like she was something abhorrent. Someone he couldn’t even recognize.

“What?” She groused.

A pause.

And then a quiet admission. Spoke just above a whisper but still somehow louder than anything Chloe had heard before.

“Marinette was right. I should never have defended you to her.”

Chloe reared back in hurt.

“Adrien—!”

He only glared at her.

“That day you announced you were leaving, everyone was glad. Nobody was sad to see you go, Chloe! Not one person!”

“That’s not true!”

“They were celebrating, Chloe!”

She froze.

“What?”

“Our entire school was literally throwing a party the instant they heard you would be gone!” He explained. “Teachers were hugging and crying in relief! They canceled classes! There was a conga line at the time I showed up! Fireworks, music, confetti—the works!”

She shook her head in disbelief.

“But...no. That was a party for me. To thank me!”

“Not originally.” Adrien corrected her. “They changed the reason for the party after the akuma attack, but reused everything from it. They just added a banner. That party was only started because you were leaving, Chloe. Not so you would stay.”

She gaped.

She had known they hated her...but that much?

“And the real reason—the only reason they did even that much to turn it around for you was because Marinette asked them to. And that was after you threw a tantrum and tried to get her banished from Paris just for saying you weren’t a hero!”

“But I was!” She shouted, stomping her foot. “I was Queen Bee!”

“Not at that time, you weren’t!” Adrien shot back. “You were a thief who used a stolen Miraculous to try to crash a train!”

“It was her fault for losing it—!”

“Marinette was on that train!” The bug kwami exclaimed, suddenly speaking up. “She and her parents could have died because of your stunt! Her saying you weren’t a hero after that was not only justified, but the very least you deserved!”

Adrien hadn’t seemed to know that previously, as he stared at the kwami in horror.

“She and her family—all of those passengers could have pressed charges! They should have! But Marinette believed you could be better!”

It glared up at her.

“Her saying you weren’t a hero at a time when you had done nothing worthy of the title was nothing compared to that!”

“Shut up!” She hissed, making the thing glare at her. “What does a bug know?”

“Enough.” Adrien cut in. “Do you really think anyone would have decided on their own to throw a party to thank you for something you caused in the first place?”

She didn’t believe it. She refused!

It was only because of her that the city was saved! Was a little gratitude so uncalled for? Seriously, after what she did for them, she deserved a parade at least! They’re just lucky she intervened at all!

She huffed. “Well, it was only the least they could have done after I saved the city from my dad!”

“Who only threatened the city because you upset him to begin with by demanding something he couldn’t give without unfairly hurting people!”

“Unfair?! You want to talk unfair? You heard what she said about me! That I wasn’t a hero! How was that fair?!”

“Because it was the truth?” The black cat kwami replied with a smirk.

Adrien shook his head and just…looked at her like he was disappointed. Like she actually did anything wrong! “It says something that you put Marinette in danger and she still tried to get everyone to appreciate you with that Queen Bee party.”

She blew up at that.

“She only did that because of you!” Chloe practically screamed. “Because she’s so in love with you that it’s pathetic!”

Adrien started in surprise.

“She loves me?”

And she couldn’t believe it, but the damned fool was actually starting to smile and his ears were turning pink! Like that was supposed to be something to be glad about!

Marinette had only ever acted for Adrien’s attention. Even that time she comforted Chloe as Ladybug when her dad was akumatized was probably just to look good to him! It didn’t matter that no one else was there to see her breakdown, it had to have been part of her plan!

She just had to explain it to him! Adrien would be on her side! He was her friend, after all!

“She was only acting nice to make herself look good to you!” She insisted.

He blinked and the happy look was gone. Chloe smirked at that, because he should be disgusted!

But Adrien only shook his head at her.

“Regardless of the reason she did that for you, she’s still the only one who did. Nino didn’t stop DJing that party out of friendship for me. The teachers didn’t corral the students or end the party out of duty to their jobs. The students didn’t receive any lecture for an unauthorized party on school grounds, celebrating a peer leaving, or just about having basic kindness and respect for others. The only one—the only one who not only stopped but advocated on your behalf to get everyone else to do the right thing was Marinette.”

He gestured to the city around them.

“And now after this, I have to wonder if it was really the right thing after all...”

She balked.

“What? No! Adrikens—”

“STOP calling me that!” He shouted sharply.

She took in a breath.

He…never…

Even when he was mad at her, he never talked to her like that!

“Adri—”

“I hate it. I hate that name. I hate how you call me that. I hate how you cling to me and hurt people and try to drive people away but also drive them away from me like I’m not allowed to have friends besides you and I hate…”

He took a breath, coming to a decision.

“...I hate you, Chloe.”

She stared at him, waiting for some sign that this was a joke. Because he didn’t mean it. He couldn’t mean it, right?

But Adrien glared back at her unflinchingly.

She felt her heart freeze.

He...

He meant it.

He really and truly meant it.

“You...you can’t be serious! You would turn on me? For her?!”

He didn’t take it back! Why wasn’t he taking it back?!

“You promised! You promised me, Adrien, that you would always be my friend!”

“Chloe, you don’t know what friends are!” Adrien exclaimed. “To you, they’re either supposed to be servants like Sabrina or things to ‘own’ like me! And I didn’t know better before because I only ever had you. But since I’ve started school, I’ve learned what friendship is!”

He looked away, guiltily.

“I wish I had learned it sooner.”

She stared.

This…

This couldn’t be.

There was no way this was real.

Adrien. Her Adrikens!

“Are you really going to abandon me, Adrien?” She asked. “You, of all people? I thought…I thought you understood.”

He winced.

But he didn’t take it back. Not one bit.

She clenched her fists.

“Fine! Then…then if you want to be with them so much, I’ll just make you one of them!” She shouted, ignoring the tears stinging her eyes. “Then you’ll have to stay with me!”

He looked her in the eyes, solemn but stern.

“It won’t be real, Chloe. Whatever we had…whatever you would call it is already gone.”

“But it doesn’t have to be!” She insisted. “I have the Miraculous. I can just…there’s a Wish! If the world won’t let us be together and perfect, then I can just Wish for it!”

It was in equal parts a plea and a warning. For him to give in, just as he always had. For him to stay by her side like he’d promised.

He clenched his fists. But refused to back down.

“Whatever you do. Whatever world you create. My feelings won’t change.”

“We’ll see about that!”

“Don’t do it!” The bug kwami shouted. “Making a Wish should never be done, especially for selfish reasons!”

“I’m not selfish!” Chloe argued. “I’m the most selfless person I know!”

Adrien didn’t look impressed. Neither did the kwamis. If anything, the bug one looked furious.

“You can’t ignore all the horrible things you’ve done and reasons people could have to not like you, then turn around and figure that doing one nice thing after hurting someone means they now owe you somehow!”

“What,” Chloe bit out, “am I supposed to be owing her instead?” She demanded, gesturing to the still frozen Marinette.

“No!” Tikki replied, earnestly. “Because friendships are not about owing each other!”

“Since when were we friends?” Chloe laughed, jerking away from the annoying pink…thing. “Everyone is so below me it’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!”

The thing looked up at her, almost pityingly. “Chloe, you clearly care. That day when you were going to leave Paris, you were crying because you didn’t have any friends.”

Chloe stomped her foot. “That’s not true!”

“But you can have friends!” It insisted. “You just need to be nice—”

“I AM nice!”

“You’ve hurt people, Chloe! Intentionally and maliciously! And right now, you were helping a terrorist just because you didn’t get the Bee Miraculous on demand!”

“It was MINE!” Chloe shouted. “She took it away from me! How was that fair?!”

“It was never YOURS!” The kwami argued. “There is a duty! A responsibility involved! The Miraculous is not a toy! It it not a thing you can just use as you wish! It is a magical artifact that must be used for the greater good! It has a kwami with a name feelings attached to it! Did you ever even talk to Pollen?”

Chloe faltered, but then scoffed. “What would you know?”

Geez, did Marinette always let this thing talk so much?

It was Adrien who answered. “Of course not. Because you never do, Chloe. You don’t talk to people. You don’t consider people. You don’t look at anyone outside of yourself to even notice the effect you’re having.”

The black thing laughed. “You’ve caused a good half of the akumatizations in the city! In all our time active here so far, it says something that we have spent more akuma fights protecting you than any other person.”

The bug nodded. “And not once—not once have you ever so much as acknowledged doing anything wrong! Much less apologized!”

Oh, now Chloe knew she was full of it. “Because I wasn’t wrong, duh!”

She was. Because why else would Ladybug refuse her when Chloe had already proven herself? And she had! No other hero was nearly as good as her!

“Of course I wasn’t wrong!” She insisted. “Because even the universe knows it! That’s why I won! I’m a better person, a better hero, and a better Guardian than she could ever try to be!”

The bug was having none of it.

“Marinette is a better Ladybug—a better person than you ever will be. And that’s because she chooses to be kind! Regardless of the circumstances!”

It glared at her defiantly.

“Even if your positions were switched, that wouldn’t change.”

Chloe glared. “Why you—!”

How dare she?! Acting like she was better than her?

But Adrien cut her off.

“I kept telling myself that they don’t understand. That I knew who you really were. That other people just didn’t know you.”

Chloe gave a disgusted look at the prospect. She didn’t get why he looked so angry though?

Or why that look was directed at her?

He…wasn’t still serious about hating her, was he?

Adrien shook his head, completely infuriated.

“But I was just making excuses. It wasn’t that they didn’t know you…it’s that I didn’t.”

She balked.

“What? Of course you know me!”

It was why he was so perfect. And the only one worthy of her, after all!

Or…well…had been, she remembered, shooting him a petulant glare.

But Adrien refused to be cowed.

“The Chloe I thought I knew never would have done what you have! You were willing to go this far—help the enemy and take over the city all for the sake of your own self interests! Even if she had given you the Bee this time…what about the next time? Or the time after?”

This was irritating. He was acting like Chloe was the one bringing THEM down.

“At least I would have gotten my Miraculous!” She pointed out. Because that was what mattered here! It was only what she deserved and Marinette was the one in the wrong for not giving it to her! Everything would have been fine if she had!

Adrien glared at her—and she couldn’t recall a time he looked so angry. Not with anyone. And especially not with her.

“I had already enabled you enough, Chloe. And I encouraged others to do the same, thinking it would help you. That if they got to know you—if you had enough support, eventually you would open up and finally be the great person you always seemed to think you were. That they just needed to give you a chance and you would be satisfied and everyone would finally get along. But I was wrong.”

He looked done. No, even worse, he looked done with her!

He hung his head.

And near whispered:

“You’re the sort of person who is never satisfied with anything.”

And with that, Chloe broke.

“SHUT UP!”

With a wave of her hand, the wasps surged forward and Adrien was made into another of her mindless thralls. But she didn’t care. He was as good as lost to her anyway and in her mind, there was only one person to blame.

“Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!”

She spun around on the expressionless Marinette in a rage, zeroing in on the cause of all her problems. Even now, the former hero still somehow looked so goddamn noble!

“You don’t deserve to be Ladybug!” She shouted, eyes wide and spittle flying. “You don’t deserve your Miraculous! You don’t deserve your life! You don’t deserve ANYTHING!”

She clenched her fists tighter.

Her palms hurt, drawing her attention back to her clenched fists and specifically to the two Miraculous she had in each.

She smirked.

“I do. And now I have the power to fix that!”

She turned away, putting the Ring on her finger.

"You becoming Ladybug was a fluke!” She continued, moving on to the earrings. “You just got lucky! It was just a chance! Anyone else could have had it!”

She put in one earring.

“I could have had it! I would have deserved it more!"

She put in the other earring.

“I deserve it more than you!”

“Don’t!” Came a little voice—the pink kwami. Whatever the hell her name was was now floating in front of her waving her arms frantically. “The Wish isn’t without consequences!”

Chloe cut Tikki off.

“Just shut up and grant my Wish!”

The bug gasped right before her mouth disappeared. Nice! Chloe liked this feature.

But there was still the distinct lack of Wish-granting.

“Well?” She demanded.

The black one floated up to her.

“You’re going to have to actually say what your Wish is, first.” He said amicably.

See? This is what she needed. Simple. Sweet. And straight to the point! If only more servants could be like this!

Of course, if Chloe knew Plagg—or if she was just paying attention, she would have noticed the smirk on his face and been wary of it.

Plagg was a chaotic little kwami. As such, he was never this pleasant, especially to those who were going to use him in a way he didn’t like.

Chloe did not know this. And in this moment, she was too driven by rage and spite to consider it.

She was used to Pollen, after all. A quiet, subservient kwami who was perfectly fitted to Chloe—a person who was used to quiet, subservient people in her life.

Plagg was neither quiet nor subservient.

When he was, it was a sign to worry.

Perhaps if Adrien had been in control of himself, he could have warned her.

Perhaps if she had put more thought into Marinette’s attempts to help her previously, she would have reconsidered.

Perhaps if she had just given more consideration to Tikki's own warnings against it, she would have taken her time.

But Chloe Bourgeois had won.

She won. Everyone else lost. And that was all that mattered, so it was all she needed to think about.

And thus, without hesitation. Without thinking twice.

“I Wish—“

Chloe made the Wish to rewrite the world.

And

i t

a l l

w e n t

b l a c k . . .

.

.

.

.

.

.

Reality is not as one would expect. It is both more complicated and yet also more simple than one would think. Thus, there is no scientific way to adequately explain the process through which things are rewritten so that something that once was not now is and always has been. Or vice versa.

That is what metaphor is for.

Imagine, if you will, that the story as we know it is a performance. Particularly a play. One where the people we have met—from Marinette to Adrien to Hawk Moth and everyone inbetween are all actors filling certain “roles”. And imagine further that the Universe itself is equivalent to a Director overseeing these actors and their performance.

It was a passable show. Mixed reviews so far. Decent performance depending on the actor and their scene. But overall, it was entertaining enough and there weren’t any major issues.

Not until one of those actors just up and stopped the entire performance in the middle of the climax to complain about the show, insult the Director’s choices, and demand everything be redone with her in a different role.

Now the Universe is not a person. It does not have a form. It simply is. And despite having a will and a sick sense of humor, it is in no way a human.

…but if it WERE a human, what happened next would be the equivalent of it tilting its head and considering the defiant actor before it and said actor’s ridiculous demand.

For one eternity…

Two…

Before shrugging and simply saying “You know what? Fine.”

There was a sound of a “snap”.

The feeling of a curtain closing.

Darkness.

A shuffle from behind the stage.

A cough from the audience.

Then the curtains lifted.

And Chloe Bourgeois woke up in a room she had never been in before.

[void-knights]

How Thor discovered Loki was Bi (Dashingfrost Oneshot)

Pairing: Loki/Fandral, Male Loki/Fandral,

Rating: E - 18+ readers only [Minors DNI]

Tags: Pre-Thor 1 setting, M/M sex, Light Dom/Sub, Sub Loki, Dom Fandral, Semi-Public sex, Partially-clothed sex, Slight glove kink, slight armour kink, Interrupted sex,

Word Count: 3161

Summery: Request by @moonlightbea-33, “I was wondering if u could write a smutty imagine between Loki and Fandral, And like Loki is the submissive one and fandral is the dom and like they are having seggs and Thor walks in on them is a very heated position and like he has no idea Loki is bi or his and fandral’s relationship.”

AO3 Link

The evening was an endless parade of liars who wore smiles on their faces as though they were afraid to admit their true feelings to the people around them. These evenings spent in praise of Odin, in festive cheer towards the golden prince of Asgard were always the same. 

It began with a toast and a speech from the ancient one-eyed king; the crowds would cheer and drink then there was the feast. Afterwards, the socialising and dancing to live music that would make the heavens weep in envy, it was gloriously decadent and dreadfully dull. 

Loki felt he had outgrown such things; he suspected that his dear brother felt the same way. However, the showering of praise and women eager to climb into his lap helped stave off the boredom after some time. Or perhaps it was his own ill-concealed envy that made the younger prince resent these tiresome evenings. 

"It appears as though you could use a well-timed distraction, your highness," the warm honeyed words of the dashing Vanir warrior immediately soothed the prince's annoyance. 

Should have anyone noticed Loki slip away with Fandral, the Vanir's hand gently pressed to the prince's lower back in a comforting gesture; they knew better than to speak of it. They feared any retribution the creative prince might hold over them.

There was no rush, nobody to miss them now that they were gone. Together they ghosted through the corridors, ignored or unnoticed by patrolling einherjar and wayward palace guests. The heat of the summer evening drove people to seek out the cool air of the gardens, not that that is where either Loki or Fandral found themselves. 

On a balcony not so hidden away, Fandral pinned Loki to a wall; the possibility of being caught by passers-by was always a turn on for the pair of them. There was much to be said about mutual interests, but not tonight; tonight all Loki needed was to be fucked so hard he forgot how unpleasant this wretched evening's celebration had been. 

Pinned between the warm body of his Vanir lover and the rigid, smooth golden walls of the palace, Loki shivered. "Already quivering for me, darling?" Fandral teased, kissing and biting along pale, sensitive flesh. It was a tremendous personal annoyance to the warrior that Loki insisted on dressing in such restrictive clothing. 

"I do not quiver," Loki hissed as Fandral desperately made clumsy quick work of unfastening and unbuckling the many layers that were preventing him from marking up his precious prince. This would all be easy if Loki just used his magic, but the prince was never about to make their lives easier, which only added to their thrill. 

"Truly? Then it must be my imagination," Fandral grinned between harsh kisses; Loki shivered at the feel of the warrior's hot breath against his cool jaw. 

"I am not a maiden about to be deflowered by you," Loki groused. His complaints were swallowed by harsh kisses that left his thin pale lips swollen and damp. 

"You are certainly blushing like a maiden," Fandral continued to tease. Whatever complaint Loki was about to bite back with vanished when he was hauled up in Fandral's arms. Loki barely had time to react; he wrapped his long slender legs around the warrior's waist and allowed himself to be carried to the balcony's railings. 

The people beneath only needed to look from a particular spot, and they would see both men tangled up in one another. 

Fandral shamelessly ground himself against Loki; the friction of their groins pressing together was as painful as it was pleasurable. Unable to hide the rolling pleasure that washed over his flushed body Loki whimpered and leaned forward, pressing his face into Fandral's neck. It annoyed him how easily the warrior could make him feel so good, so fucking good.

"I have you, darling," Fandral whispered hotly against the cool shell of Loki's ear. He ignored the soft whimpers that spilt from the prince's lips, he was not likely to beg so soon, and they had the entire evening to themselves! 

He shoved the heavy coat Loki insisted on wearing for ceremonial purposes from the god's pale shoulders. Stripped down to his trousers and tall boots, Loki always looked so much smaller, his shoulders not as broad as he liked people to believe. He did not possess the bulk that his brother did. But that was what made him so beautiful in the eyes of the Vanir, who peppered hot kisses on his shoulder. 

His fingers travelled down the cool expanse of Loki's torso, teasing a path as they rocked together, enjoying the agonising waves of pleasure that washed over them both. It was almost like a slow dance where they would rock back and forth, each eager to hurry up, neither wanting to leave the build of anticipation. Loki clung desperately to Fandral, whispering soft pleas; whether to hurry or slow down neither of them remembered because Fandral's fingers slipped into the tight confines of Loki's leather trousers. 

Now Fandral was never one to envy another man, but there were times when his envious mind wondered whether Loki somehow managed to magically enhance himself. Not that he didn't appreciate having such a gorgeous cock all to himself, but it did make him wonder. No matter. His fingers slid along cool soft skin. Once again the prince had forgone underwear. 

"No underwear again?" Fandral asked, grabbing the base of Loki's cock and giving it a hard squeeze. The prince yelped; they must have played this game a hundred times, and still, he was caught off guard. "Who knew our prince was such a slut?" The harshness of the Vanir's words killed any quip Loki might have had, "Do you hope some pretty woman would notice you? Would want you to fuck her the way I fuck you? Do you think others could please you the way that I do, darling?" 

Probably. Loki did not say it because his brain decided it was better to let go, submit, and give in. After all, the Vanir was shoving Loki's trousers down to his knees. Had he not worn those dammed boots, he might have been able to remove them altogether. Again Loki refused to help with his magic leaving Fandral just a tad frustrated. 

"Having trouble?" Loki grinned viciously, reclaiming some sense of control. 

"Never," Fandral grinned in return. They both knew who was in charge of their games, and before Loki could protest that maybe they should find somewhere that was a little more private, Fandral spun the prince around, pinning his front to the railings. "Now be a good prince and-" he kicked Loki's legs apart "-stay still." 

But when had he ever been good at following orders? Loki attempted to turn around. The sharp crack of Fandral's gloved hand on his backside had Loki shouting out in pleasure. Some people beneath defiantly heard that, but they could not pinpoint the source of the noise. 

Fandral folded himself over Loki, his lips pressed against Loki's ear, "Do you wish for your subjects to know how much of a slut you are?" his gloved hand soothed over the burning sting in his rear, sparks of pain crashed into waves of pleasure. 

Loki rolled his hips, his hard, aching cock bouncing with the movement. Fandral slapped him again on the other cheek for moving when he shouldn't! Loki attempted to swallow the cry of pleasurable pain that wracked his body, but it was too late.

Again heads turned beneath them, confused and some slightly concerned. "Why not shout again?" Fandral grinned, "Go on, darling, let them see how much of a wanton whore you truly are. Let them see how only I can bring you to this state." 

"You are not the only one," Loki turned to look Fandral in his self-satisfied face, "I can think of at least a dozen men and women who-" cracking his gloved hand against Loki's rear again, Loki cried out in pain. Fandral grabbed his hair and painfully yanked his head backwards with a harsh growl. 

Sliding his gloved hand downwards, Fandral captured the prince's heavy balls in his palm. He massaged Loki, grinning as the prince half-collapsed under the pleasure and pain building up within him. Fandral slid his gloved fingers along the sensitive skin behind the prince's sack. Little shivers of pleasure flowed through the prince's body, making him numb to his surroundings. Just as his fingers were about to come into contact with the prince's hole, Fandral pulled away.

The desperate sound that spilt from Loki's lips was music to the Vanir's ears, "Be a good boy and suck," Fandral commanded, shoving two gloved fingers into Loki's mouth. 

Eager to obey, Loki swirled his tongue around the thick leather-clad digits pressed against his tongue with eagerness. He sucked and hollowed his cheeks, desperate to give his Vanir lover a display that he was unlikely to forget. "Fuck," Fandral whispered hoarsely against Loki's ear, "You're so desperate to suck anything, aren't you, my little whore?" 

Loki moaned around the thick digits swallowing as much of them into his mouth as he possibly could. He would make sure Fandral remembered tonight. The Vanir rocked against him, his hard cock straining in casual linen trousers. Loki could feel the shape of him against his sensitive burning arse; he moaned again, allowing Fandral to remove his fingers from his mouth.

Slick with Loki's saliva Fandral pressed his gloved fingers to Loki's outer ring, and the prince groaned. He was used to far bigger objects, but it had been a while, and he needed time to adjust. A harsh pained gasp escaped Loki as he tried to focus on relaxing and concentrating on the push of Fandral's fingers. 

The Vanir released his hold on the prince's hair and allowed the prince to fall forward, resting against the balcony's fence. The people below were still ignorant of what was happening above them. Saliva was not the best lubricant, and Fandral did not wish to harm Loki; he made a familiar motion to the prince, who gathered just enough wits to summon a bottle of oil. 

With assistance from the oil, Fandral slicked his glove fingers and set the bottle aside for later. Slowly he began to push his gloved fingers inside the prince. "That's it, darling, open up for me, nice and wide," praised Fandral. 

Those talented fingers twisted and curled inside him, knowing every inch of his body Fandral focused on the prince's prostate. The god yelled out a soft curse as pleasure sparked within him. "Look at you still tight around my fingers," Fandral growled, his teeth capturing the shell of Loki's ear; the prince whimpered as Fandral continued to stroke that spot within him. "I am going to spilt you open on my cock. I will fuck you so hard you will not be able to sit without thinking of me and my cock." 

Loki whimpered, grabbing the railings beneath him. The burn of his muscles as they stretched around Fandral's fingers felt so good. He felt full but not satisfied. He needed more than fingers; he wanted, he needed Fandral's cock. The warrior teased him with it. He pressed his clothed cock against Loki, making him desire and need it. Those talented fingers against his prostate were ruthless, and the god could feel his knees weakening beneath him; his orgasm was fast approaching him.

"Fandral, please," Loki begged, knowing how to spur the Vanir warrior onwards. He understood the pleas of the prince and slowly withdrew his fingers from Loki's aching hole. Drinking in the image of a flushed Loki desperately panting in the cooling summer night.

"Since you asked so nicely, my darling," Fandral whispered roughly, undoing his own belt and trousers. He pushed his pants down his legs and lined his hard, aching cock up against Loki's hole. "I will give you what you want," Fandral grinned, pressing just the tip of his cock into Loki. The prince moaned, "This is what you want, isn't it?" he asked, slowly rocking back and forth, not giving enough to the desperate and wanton prince.

"Yes," Loki breathed, trying desperately to spur Fandral onwards.

"Yes, what?" Fandral asked, leaning over the prince, kissing and sucking along the pale, sensitive skin of his neck before sharply cracking his gloved hand against Loki's arse cheek again. 

"Yes, I want your cock," Loki cried out in desperation, rocking himself against Fandral, "I need it. I want to feel you fill me up!" he didn't care who overheard them. All he wanted was to feel Fandral's cock fill him up.

Given their difference in heights, Fandral needed a moment to reposition themselves before slowly sliding his length into Loki. The prince sighed in satisfaction as the Vanir filled him up slowly and gloriously, each inch of his beautiful cock pressing perfectly against his walls as he slid deeper inside him.  

Loki moaned softly as the Vanir filled him completely. The heavy weight of him pressed against his back still in his full armour was relatively new and thrilling. It was an idea he wanted to explore at a later date. "Are you alright, darling?" Fandral asked after a moment, a little concerned about Loki's sudden stillness.

Nodding, Loki leaned backwards into the Vanir to reassure him, "I am better than alright," he whispered hoarsely, "Fuck, I feel so good," he breathed, wishing he could twist himself around to kiss the Vanir. Instead, he settled for kissing the warrior's gloved fingers, "You always make me feel so good, darling," he praised his lover. 

Smugly Fandral slotted himself against Loki, his fingers reaching for Loki's cock again, "I am glad to hear that," he whispered, pressing hot kisses to Loki's bare shoulder. 

The kisses quickly turned into painful bruising bites as he began to thrust his hips slowly at first. As Fandral resumed their original position, his armoured front pressing against Loki's barely covered back, his thrusts became deeper. More brutal. Each slam of his hips had his cock hitting against his prostate; Loki cried out in pleasure, so Fandral bit him harder. Enough to bruise pale skin and draw a little blood. 

Fandral growled against the god's cool skin, "I'm going to cum inside you, sweet thing," Loki shuddered as the Vanir harshly pumped his aching purple cock, "I'll fill you up like a cheap whore and leave you begging for more." 

Loki cried out, forgetting himself and any potential witnesses that might- 

"-What is going on?!" 

Well fuck. Of all the possible interruptions!

Before either Loki or Fandral could respond to Thor's sudden outburst, the Vanir was hauled across the balcony and up off his feet. Loki escaped taking a second to dress himself with magic again.

"Oh, so now you have magic," a horny Fandral cried out, drunk on his own pleasure and forgetting that Thor was about to choke him to death. 

Loki wasn't exactly pleased about this interruption either. He smoothed down his robes and pretended that he had not just been caught his brother's best friend's cock up his arse, begging to be filled up with cum. Norns, he hoped Thor hadn't heard that bit! 

"How dare you assault my brother. My trusted friend!" Thor roared. 

Oh, people could defiantly hear that! 

"Thor shut up," Loki hissed, using his magic to soundproof the area. He did not need everyone knowing his business. Though it already seemed all of Asgard except Thor knew about him and Fandral. "I have not been assaulted!"

At least not against my will. He didn't say fearing Thor would take it the wrong way. Loki wasn't in the best of moods now that his evening was thoroughly ruined and his patience was wearing thin. 

Thor violently turned to him, still holding Fandral up in the air, who still had his trousers around his knees. Thor was still confused, "Did Fandral not defile you-"

"-Fandral is hardly the first cock I've had up my arse," Loki yelled at his brother, who turned as crimson as the cape he famously wore. "I have been taking cocks up my arse and shoving cocks up arses since before you were swinging Mjölnir!"

"How eloquent," Fandral said while pulling up his trousers.

"SILENCE!" both princes yelled at him.

"Fandral did not assault me," Loki reassured his brother calmly, knowing his brother was prone to anger and rash actions. This was dangerous for Fandral, and Loki still had use for the Vanir warrior. So for now, he would do his best to ensure the man made it out of this completely intact. 

"But-"

"Brother, it seems that the only person in this realm who does not know of my sexuality is you," Loki continued to speak because he knew if Thor began talking, he would stop listening. That would be bad for everyone.

"This is a betrayal-" Thor tried to explain.

"A betrayal you have not noticed for the better part of three decades," Fandral pointed out, "It never once piqued your curiosity that Loki and I would spend so much time together?"

"You are not helping the situation," Loki said.

"I don't understand," Thor said. Had he honestly never noticed?

"Well, how about we start with putting Fandral down," Loki suggested, "On his feet, do not bash in his head. I am quite fond of him."

"So was I," Thor grumbled, still irritated as he set Fandral down on his feet.

"Hopefully not in the same way," Fandral couldn't help himself. Both brothers stared at him. 

"Three decades?" Thor asked, deeply confused, ignoring his friend, who quickly tied his belt and tried to straighten his armour.

The night was ruined, and seeing little chance of recovering it, Fandral wrapped his arm around Thor's massive shoulders. It was a gesture he made a thousand times, but Thor was just a little too on edge tonight. No doubt he wondered if Fandral would somehow seduce him next.

"Tell you what, we'll grab drinks, and you'll just accept that Loki and I are… something," Fandral offered. Something was the right word. They certainly weren't courting.

Thor was still confused. Loki followed Fandral's plan. It was an excellent plan to get Thor drunk, and hopefully, he would forget all about this. "I still do not understand… you enjoy the companionship of men?" He asked Loki. 

Truly how had he never noticed? Thor was usually not this obvilious!

"You are aware that sometimes I am a woman?" Loki began gently.

"Yes, but that makes some sort of sense," Thor nodded. 

"But my sexual preferences do not?" Loki asked, deeply confused by his brother's logic. Thor also seemed confused. "Let us get those drinks," Loki consoled his brother.

"Three decades?" Thor asked. They both nodded, "Are Sif, Hogun and Volstagg aware of this?" they nodded. Thor was still confused.

There was no hope of salvaging their evening now, much to the frustration of both lovers. 

[breakyeol]

touch it (sensual oils)

one shot

┗ pairing : baekhyun x reader

words: 4k

warnings: smut, sensual massage, byun-booty, hand job, light overstimulation 

a/n; because baekhyun deserves it

Baekhyun had a bad day.

That much was glaringly obvious from the very moment he stepped through the door, looking about ready to crawl beneath your bedsheets and never come out. He collapsed into your arms with a pathetic whine the moment you rose from where you were situated on the couch, the full weight of his body thrown against your chest. You grunted at the unexpected impact, quickly wrapping your arms around his slim waist when you felt his knees beginning to give out.

“Baek!” You yelped, struggling feebly to support the both of you. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m too tired to stand,” he cried out dramatically, voice muffled against your shoulder, “my body feels like it’s turning into mush.”

You clicked your tongue at his familiar dramatics, a fond smile flitting across your lips in spite of yourself. “Oh my poor baby~” you cooed playfully, petting the top of his head, “they worked you into the ground?”

A heavy pout tugged at the corners of his lips, big droopy eyes swinging up to meet yours as he bobbed his head. “I’m already sore. I’m not gonna be able to move tomorrow.” He complained noisily, hands curling into tight fists around the material of your sweatshirt.

This close, you could easily make out the lingering scent of sweat clinging to his skin, and you didn’t doubt for a second he worked until he was drenched in it. There was a flash, an image that passed before your eyes, of Baekhyun, sweat rolling down the smooth slope of his chin, dripping from the fringes of his bangs, glistening enticingly above his brow, his mouth pink and open, gasping. It vanished just as quickly as it had come, and your attention was drawn back to the whining mess of a man squirming against your chest.

“Go shower,” you suggested, not trusting your voice above a careful whisper, “then come to bed, okay?”

“I don’t want to. Just hold me.”

You snickered, combing your fingers through the short hairs on the back of his neck, feeling the way his body melted into the tender caress. “I will gladly hold you for the rest of the night… after you take a shower.”

He only offered an unintelligible grunt in response, showing no signs of detaching himself from your body, his hold around you tightening in a display of stubborn resistance. There was little doubt in your mind that he’d keep this up for as long as your patience allowed – which, given how soft you were for the man, was a fairly long time –, but you knew you’d both be better off once he felt clean and refreshed, cleansed of the day’s many hardships.

“You’ll feel a lot better afterwards.”

A groan this time.

“I’ll make you feel a lot better afterwards.”

At that reparation, his head snapped up, eyes wide and, despite the exhaustion, glinting with a hint of excitement. His spine straightened, grip around you loosening somewhat as strength seemed to return to his muscles. “Really?” He whispered, pink tongue slipping out from between petal lips. So easy. You could’ve scoffed, but thought better of yourself, settling for a suggestive cock of your head that could be interpreted in a number of ways.

“Go shower,” you hummed, pinching his chin between your thumb and index finger and guiding his face down towards yours, “then… we’ll see.”

He let out a huff of breath, eyes going hooded as they flickered down to trace the smug curve of lips. “You’re mean.”

You laughed lightly, planting a kiss that was far too short for Baekhyun’s liking to his pouted mouth before skillfully untangling yourself from his arms. “We’ll see just how mean I can be once you come to bed.” You called teasingly over your shoulder, grinning in wild amusement at the low curse that followed.

It wasn’t too long after you’d made your way into the bedroom that you heard the soft hiss of the shower. You waited until you heard the low groan that told you that your boyfriend had finally stepped beneath the hot spray to permeate through the separating wall before you jumped into action.

This wasn’t the first time Baekhyun had come home looking ready to collapse and you doubted it would be the last. There wasn’t much you could do about him having to go to work. No matter what you said or how many times you told him he should give himself a chance to rest and recover, he would always put his everything into his work, because that was just the kind of man he was. He was all passion and fire and unrelenting persistence even when he felt like he might die. It was a quality that sparked both admiration and fear inside of you.

There was a certain helplessness that came with being the person he came home to after a long day of work, body and mind teetering dangerously on the brink of exhaustion. There wasn’t much you could do to ease his stress, as he wasn’t the type to verbally unload or express his unease to its full extent. Sure, he was dramatic, but only in a playful sense. That was his way of downplaying and covering up his true feelings, to both you and himself.

But, there were still other ways you could help. And, with some brainstorming and a bit of research, you’d come up with the perfect plan to help ease some of Baekhyun’s tension. Though, you had to scramble a bit to set the scene, you knew it would be fully worth it to see the look on his face.

It was just as you’d lit the final candle, completing the final touches, that you heard the shower shut off. Perfect timing. You quickly situated yourself on the edge of the bed, the cool air caressing your scantily clad body, rousing goosebumps across your skin.

But, the chills tickling your spine were little more than a second thought as Baekhyun stepped into the room donning nothing more than a towel that hung dangerously low on his full hips. He paused just inside the doorway, his brows shooting upwards as he took in the state of your shared bedroom. Wide eyes danced over the flickering candles laid out strategically across the hardwood floor to encircle the bed, swept over the scattered rose petals, before finally landing on you.

You, wearing a deep crimson lingerie set, a sheer silk robe, and nothing more.

His bare chest, still glistening with water droplets, rose sharply as his breath hitched. A low curse tumbled from his lips, almost too faint to hear over the seductive instrumentals pulsing from the speakers.

A satisfied smirk broke across your face at his reaction, pleased with yourself for having successfully caught him off guard.

“Surprise,” you sang, voice low and silken.

For a moment, he didn’t move, his own amazement rooting him in place as he visually inhaled the sight of you. Your skin was hot beneath the intensity of his gaze, blazing as it trailed torturously slow up the length of your body, not daring to miss a single detail.

A faint buzz of nerves fizzled in your gut.

You’d never done anything like this before. Presented yourself in such a way to him, that is. All wrapped up in silk and lace of only the most sensual nature, bathed in smooth orange candlelight that tickled your ankles and crept up the smooth length of your lower legs. This was something new for the both of you, something unexplored. But it also wasn’t everything you had in store.

When he moved, it was with the utmost cautiousness, as if stepping too quickly or too harshly might disturb the beautiful illusion spread before him. But still, he moved, unable to resist the temptation.

Without speaking, his hands found your face, curving around the shape of your jaw and winding around the back of your neck. They were cold against your skin, and you couldn’t suppress the shiver that rippled down your spine as he leaned over you. You let out a soft hum at his touch, head rolling back under his gentle coaxing.

Not a beat passed before his mouth found yours, eager and impatient. You didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, easily finding the smooth slope of his naked waist and tugging him closer. He moaned somewhere low in his throat, tongue slipping out to trace the seam of your lip. You allowed as much, indulging the hungry press of his mouth, the careful nips of his teeth — until he tried to lay you down.

Your palms met the swells of his chest, and he pulled away, breathless and confused. “What is it?” He asked hoarsely, licking over his swollen lips. You’d be lying straight through your teeth if you said he didn’t look irresistible in that moment, wet hair hanging messily over his brows, dark, hooded eyes, all haze and lust as they stared down at you heatedly, full cheeks blushing a feverish shade of red. But you had plans for tonight, plans you didn’t intend to discard for the sake of sexual pleasure.

“I’m not fucking you.”

He gasped, disbelief coloring his features. “What? Why not?”

“Because,” you grinned, settling your hands on his hips, “I’m going to give you a massage.”

“A massa— ah!” his words cut off abruptly with a high pitched yelp as you suddenly spun him around, all but throwing him down onto the petal covered mattress. He could only stare at you in shock as you crawled over his nearly naked body, mouth curved into a playful smile.

“A massage.” You confirmed, sounding rather proud. But, he still looked less than amused, so you elaborated. “You’ve been working so hard these past few weeks, and I know you’ve been stressed and your body is exhausted. A massage will help release some of that tension.”

“You know what else releases tension?” He asked, sinking his teeth into his lower lip. You cocked a brow, feeling the light press of his fingertips as they feathered over your thighs, taking an obvious path upwards. Desire and mischief swirled in his eyes, voice low and thick as the words dripped slowly from his dangerous tongue, “Hot… passionate… s—”

You snatched his hands from your skin before they could reach their destination, pinning them to the mattress on either side of his head. “Shut up and roll over.”

He huffed, pouting up at you scornfully but obeyed nonetheless, rolling onto his stomach. “Do you even know how to give a massage?” He snipped as you settled yourself on the back of his towel clad thighs.

“I’ve done my research.” You offered lightly, sparing a moment to admire the lithe, sinewy build of his shoulders and back before you moved, reaching for the tall bottle you’d situated on the nightstand earlier. He followed your movements from the corner of his eye, curiosity breaking through the petulant facade.

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit cruel?”

“Perhaps,” you teased, pouring the translucent golden liquid into your palm, “but you’ll enjoy this, I promise. Just… relax.”

A defeated sigh escaped his chest, his body deflating beneath you. “Fine. But, this better feel better than sex or I swear to god I will—” he jolted with a soft gasp as you suddenly pressed the heels of your oil lathered palms into the area just between his shoulder blades and pushed outwards, “sue.”

You smirked smugly to yourself at the breathlessness with which he completed his sentence, obviously not having expected the pressure to feel that amazing.

“Good?” You asked, voice tinged with arrogance.

“Uh-huh,” he admitted immediately, moaning throatily as you rolled your thumbs deeply against the base of his neck, “oh fuck that feels so good.”

You chuckled, skillfully working your fingers across the planes of his broad shoulders. He melted deeper into the mattress with every knot you deftly unwound, soft, relieved moans breaking from his open mouth. The smooth, lavender scented oil glistened captivatingly on his sun-kissed skin, the delicate aroma gently permeating through your bedroom. It was a lovely, soothing smell, subtle and unimposing. You spread it diligently across the smooth expanse of his upper back, before gradually beginning to work your way downwards.

His sounds of bliss lowered in pitch the lower your hands reached, dipping into silky tenor groans when your hands reached the delicate dip of his waist. But, as you moved to massage the area just above his hips, he suddenly jolted, spine arching, a strained curse rushing from between clenched teeth.

You couldn’t help the concern that sparked to life in your chest at his response. “Does it hurt?” You asked, easing up on the pressure but not removing your touch completely. Sucking his lips into his mouth, he nodded with a soft, hesitant hum, glancing back at you from over his shoulder. “What happened?”

He made a strange noise in the back of his throat. “I just… twisted it weirdly during practice, I guess.” He offered weakly, shivering as you poured a small puddle of oil in the small of his back.

“Did you take a break?”

His silence was all the answer you needed.

“Baek,” your tone turned scolding as you gently worked your fingers into the tight dip of his waist, “just because you can fight through the pain doesn’t mean that you should. You’re not doing your body any favors by pushing it this hard.”

“I know but I—“ he sighed heavily, pressing his face into the sheets, “I just… don’t want to disappoint anybody.”

Oh, your poor, sweet Baekhyun. Always trying to please everyone else even when it ends up hurting him.

Pausing in your movements, you leaned forwards, bracing your hands on his shoulders so that you could speak in his ear. “Nobody is disappointed in you, Baek. You work so hard everyday to be the best you can be, and it shows. Everyone knows that you put your everything into what you do. And everyone’s proud of you,” you pressed your lips against the curve of his throat, slowly working your way up to the curve of his jaw, “I’m proud of you.”

He glanced back at you through his eyelashes. “Really?”

The question is so soft, so uncertain, and you feel your heart clench painfully in your chest at the thought that this man truly doesn’t understand just how many people adore him for just being… him. “Of course.”

You didn’t miss the rising of his cheeks, though he tried to hide himself beneath his arm, suddenly shy. You bit back a grin of your own, pressing one final kiss to the shell of his ear before returning to your earlier position and resuming the massage. He felt a dozen times more relaxed beneath you, the previous tension occupying his muscles having magically dissipated.

Sometimes, all he really needed was a little reassurance.

The smile that settled across your lips was unwavering as you took to kneading at the supple flesh of his hips, just above the top of his towel. Somewhere in the back of your mind, there was a flicker of a thought. A mischievous, dangerous thought. A thought that had your attention lingering on where the towel was tucked and secured on his right hip. Glancing up at the back of his head, you allowed your fingers to trail discretely towards the damp, white fabric, toying with it lightly so that he wouldn’t notice — not even as it came undone.

It was only as you peeled it swiftly away from his body and Baekhyun felt the rush of cool air across his backside that he realized what had just occurred.

“H– Hey!” He yelped, swinging his head around fast enough to give himself whiplash, eyes wide with disbelief.

“This is a full body massage, Baek. It’s not a full body massage unless it’s full body.”

“My butt does not need massaging.”

You grinned, sinking your teeth into your lower lip as you cocked a challenging brow. “I beg to differ.”

“Pervert.” He hissed.

You gasped, splaying a hand across your chest. “Who told you?”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes at your antics, but put up little resistance as you nudged his hands away from his butt. The tips of his ears and the back of his neck turned a dark, lovely shade of pink, and he quickly buried his face in his arms. Taking that as his nonverbal cue to continue, you poured yourself some more of the lavender scented oil, overturning your palm to let it drizzle onto his cheeks. He flinched slightly, the sensation catching him off guard.

So cute. You bit into the inside of your cheek to keep from cooing at him, opting to set your hands upon the gentle curve of his ass and knead your fingers into the soft, toned flesh. Baekhyun stifled a moan in the crook of his elbow, eyes fluttering as his body responded to the soothing touch.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” You asked, tone teasing.

“Shut up.”

You snickered, massaging deep circles into the muscles of his upper thigh. He groaned deeply, fingers curling into the sheets. “Right there, right there— fuck, right there. It’s so sore.”

Heat flickered faintly in the pit of your stomach at the low rasping of his voice, grunted roughly through clenched teeth. Geez, why’d he have to sound so damn sexy…

Brushing off the thought as best you could, you forced yourself to focus on massaging the tension from his hamstrings. But each brush of your fingers over the insides of his thighs, intentional or otherwise, coaxed a round of violent shivers and breathless moans from your very much nude and very much oil covered boyfriend. You swallowed a mouthful of saliva, jaw clenching as you squeezed your hands around the backs of his lower thighs.

The sounds he was making weren’t helping your… situation in the least.

“How are you so good at this?” He asked, somewhat airily as your hands glided upwards, to just below the curve of his ass before returning to the crook of his knee. The question snapped you out of whatever trance you’d put yourself in watching the way his slick, honeyed skin dipped and curved deliciously beneath the pressure of your touch.

“Re- research. Lots of research.” You cleared your throat, shifting downwards on the mattress to set to work on his calves.

“You’re hands are fucking magic.”

Warmth slipped into your cheeks at the praise, your heart picking up speed within your chest. He was making it difficult for you to focus.

“I told you you’d like it.” You hummed playfully, beginning the slow ascent back up the length of his naked body.

“You were right,” he conceded easily, sighing in bliss as your hands slid over the small of his back, “I love it. Feels so fucking good, you have no idea.”

A content (and perhaps a bit smug) smile settled across your face. You couldn’t have asked for anything more. All you wanted was to make Baekhyun feel even just a little bit better after what you knew had to be a long, hard day— and you goddamn succeeded.

“Baek,” you murmured, and he gasped softly, not expecting your lips to be right next to his ear. He let out an unsteady hum, blinking hard twice when he felt your lace covered chest press against his back, “roll over for me?”

Swallowing thickly, he nodded. You lifted yourself off of him to give him just enough room to turn onto his back beneath you. All at once you were nose to nose, soft puffs of breath caressing your mouth. He was looking up at you with those eyes again, those hooded, wanting eyes, his hands clenching at the sheets somewhere down by his sides. You could see the dark flush on his cheeks, the desperation slowly seeping into his expression.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” The question was quiet, barely a whisper on his delicate pink lips. But the fire it ignited inside of you was anything but— loud, violent, and devastating, ripping your so well kept self control to shreds in a matter of moments.

“Yeah,” you whispered, sliding a slick hand down his toned stomach, “but I’m going to touch it first.”

He barely had time to react before your hand was around his cock. He gasped, back arching, forcing his chest flush against yours. Surprise flickered across your face upon feeling him already fully hard and throbbing against your palm. “Oh?”

“What?” He huffed out breathlessly, swinging the tip of his tongue over his lower lip, “did you expect me not to get hard while my sexy girlfriend wearing sexy lingerie rubs every inch of my body with oil?”

Pausing, you squinted down at him. “It was the butt massage, wasn’t it?”

He glared, and you grinned.

But any annoyance was wiped clean off his face as you squeezed your fingers around him, stroking his dick at a slow, borderline torturous pace. The remaining oil on your hand combined with his precum provided the perfect lubrication, the slide smooth and wet, the lewd sound of it making you clench around nothing. Baekhyun’s head rolled back, mouth falling open in a silent moan. But, not for a moment did his gaze break from yours. You bit your lip harshly, a violent heat licking at your veins, the sheer intensity of his dark stare making your head feel dizzy.

“You look… so hot right now.” You hadn’t intended to say the words out loud, but you also couldn’t find it in yourself to feel even the least bit ashamed.

The corner of his mouth curled into a sultry smirk, an airy chuckle rumbling somewhere low in his chest.

“Yeah?” You nodded. “Then kiss me.”

You did so without hesitation.

Baekhyun let out a heady groan, hands surging up from between your bodies to cradle your jaw as your lips worked against his with a hunger you hadn’t realized you possessed. It was uncoordinated and messy, all lashing tongue and vicious teeth, biting and sucking and licking until you were certain your that lips were raw. You were dizzy and intoxicated by the taste of him, and he wasn’t in much of a better state. With his cock in your hand and your tongue in his mouth, it didn’t seem like he’d last much longer.

Beneath you, Baekhyun’s hips bucked and rolled, frenzied and desperate. Your hand stilled around him, allowing him the luxury of control as he fucked himself violently into your closed fist. Each moan that tumbled from his mouth into yours was louder than the last, and you relished in the unabashed displays of pleasure, taking an immense amount of pride in knowing that you were the cause of it.

“I’m gonna come,” he gasped the warning, his nails biting harshly into your shoulder, “fuck— fuck, wait— I’m g-gonna come.”

“Baek,” you panted, still trying to catch your breath from the kiss, “come for me. Please.”

His back arched, the furnace of his body overwhelmed but still trying feebly to fight back his oncoming high. Baekhyun didn’t like coming first. He’d always had the tendency of putting your pleasure above his own, making sure you came at least once (if not multiple times) before him. But tonight wasn’t about you. Tonight was about him. And you were going to make sure he knew it.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, sucking a dark bruise into his skin while simultaneously rolling your thumb over his sensitive tip in a way that had him trembling pathetically beneath you.

“Oh god— oh fuck— y/n—!” He came with a hoarse cry of your name, hips bucking, muscles tensing, skin shivering. You felt his hot release spilling over your knuckles, slipping between your fingers. He whimpered and squirmed as the overstimulation kicked in, but you didn’t stop stroking him until he started begging. “I can’t, I can’t— baby, please—” his chest heaved and his eyes went glassy, the dangerous cocktail of pleasure and pain making his head feel dizzy.

Looking down at him, so wrecked and fucked out, with those flushed cheeks and heavy eyes, you felt your heart flutter at the same time arousal coiled in your gut. He was just too damn pretty for his own good.

You relented, gently releasing his spent dick from your hold. He let out a shaky breath before tugging you into another mind numbing kiss. You moaned softly against his lips, feeling one of his hands coil around the back of your neck while the other explored the expanse of your back. It didn’t take long before they discovered the clasp of your bra, deftly unclasping it. Distracted by the skillful flicks of his tongue, you didn’t realize what he’d done until you felt the lacy fabric slip down your arms.

A giggle bubbled in your throat, and you whispered against his mouth, “naughty boy.”

His lips curled, and then all at once you found yourself sprawled on your back. “Naughty girl,” Baekhyun retaliated in a low, playful growl, pinning your hands to the mattress on either side of your head, “making me cum even after I told you to wait...”

His head dipped and you gasped softly as he nipped at the sensitive part of your throat, one hand sliding down to grip at your naked breast. You bit your lip to suppress a whimper as he circled your nipple with a rough thumb.

“Guess I’ll just have to pay you back for it…”

You weren’t about to object to that.

[buckysbbyy]

wicked heaven (part 1)

pairings: bucky barnes x reader x loki laufeyson

series synopsis: a super soldier and a god both want you to themselves.

fic synopsis: bucky has to leave in the middle of an intimate interaction between you two. loki notices you’re in need of some help afterwards.

warnings: 18+. light smut. kissing, fingering, pussy slapping (once), light choking, tension.

word count: 2.3k

a/n: this part is mostly smut with loki. the next part features a lot more bucky!

-

“Loki!” You nearly jump out your skin as he suddenly appears in your room, using his magic to skip the process of knocking on your door. “I told you to stop doing that!” He chuckles as you scold him, making his way over to the couch where you’re sat watching TV. “Don’t be mad, darling. I needed to see you quickly”.

You look at him, unentertained. “And why is that?”. His arm grips the top of the couch as he leans in closer to you, loose strands of his hair falling in front of his face. “So that the soldier sees you’re busy when you answer the door”.

Knock Knock Knock

You give Loki a look as his devilish smile spreads across his face. You get up from your seat and make your way to your door, giving yourself a quick check in the mirror as you pass your vanity. Bucky stands behind the door as you open it, his eyes moving from the floor to your face.

You smile at him. “Bucky, hey”. He smiles back, looking happy to see you. “Hey, y/n. I was wondering if you were busy..” He trails off as his eyes drift behind you, Loki walking into his view, smirking. You turn around and roll your eyes before looking back to Bucky.

“No, I’m not. In fact, do you want to grab lunch? So nice of you to use the door, by the way”. He chuckles. “I was just about to ask you the same. And of course, some of us around here have manners”. He stares at Loki. You could feel the tension in the air, dominance struggling to be made between the two of them.

“Let me grab my purse and we can go”. Bucky nods and you walk back into your room, your purse on the dresser behind where your uninvited guest stands. Loki’s arm reaches across your body as you try to walk past him, his hand firm on your waist. You look up at him, trying not to show him how much you’re enjoying making him jealous.

“Sure you don’t want to stay here with me, darling?” His cologne smells so good, his eyes locked on yours as he tries to seduce you. For a moment, you find yourself leaning into him, overcome with the desire running through you.

Bucky clears his throat loudly enough for you to snap out of it and find the willpower to reply. “Absolutely sure”. He removes his hand from you gently, letting you pass. “Very well”.

You grab your purse and walk back to Bucky. You turn around one last time to Loki. “Be gone by the time I’m back”. He grins and raises his hands up in surrender. “Understood”.

-

You aren’t looking for a relationship. You know that, both Bucky and Loki know that. So why can’t you stay away from them? Even if you were open to dating, you honestly couldn’t choose between the two.

Loki is incredibly charming, and mischievous, obviously, being the God of Mischief. He knows exactly what you want to hear and can seduce you in a matter of seconds. He’s incredibly smart, cunning, and as devilish as he is, he’s good-hearted.

Bucky on the other hand. Bucky is loyal and brave, funny, honest. He’s mysterious and dominant and strong. He puts the needs of others in front of his own. He’s always there for you when you need him.

Not to mention how incredibly sexy the two of them are. Loki has the advantage of height, but Bucky has muscle. So much muscle. His thighs could probably crush a watermelon. They would both do anything to protect you from harm.

You haven’t even kissed either of them, yet they continue to compete over you, trying to win you over, and you’re letting them. Is it bad that you enjoy it? You couldn’t imagine one of them giving up, and you couldn’t imagine choosing only one of them. But choosing for what? Maybe a fwb situation? You know they want you, and you want them. Maybe there is a simple solution to this.

-

You return from lunch, laughing with Bucky through the compound as you walk to your bedroom door. You grab his hand and turn to him. “Would you want to come in and watch a movie?”. He leans in close, as if he’s going to kiss you, but he doesn’t. “Of course, doll”.

You open your bedroom door to see Loki laying on your bed, throwing a ball in the air and catching it. He sits up as you enter, grinning. “There you are. I was starting to wonder if you had gone off to the soldiers’ room”.

Bucky steps in front of you, facing Loki. “Y/n and I are going to be hanging out in here, actually. You should leave”. Loki stands up, stepping forward. “Is that right? I haven’t heard y/n say a thing about that”. They both turn to you, looking for an answer. Honestly, you didn’t want either one of them to leave.

You look Loki, then to Bucky. “Loki was just leaving”. Loki walks past Bucky to you, inches away. “You don’t really want that, do you darling?”. If you said yes, then you would be lying. Instead, you look up to him, face stern. “I’ll see you later, Loki”. He grins before stepping back, holding his hands out beside him. “Yes, you will”. He winks before suddenly vanishing, leaving only you and Bucky in your room.

You walk over to the couch and pat the space next to you. “You can pick the movie, Buck”. He smiles as he walks over to the couch, plopping down beside you. “Thanks, doll. You’re sweet”. He opens his arm and you lean into him, your forehead resting against his jaw. He turns his head and gives a kiss to your hair, making you blush. Bucky senses the heat in your cheeks and smiles to himself.

-

The movie ends and you sit up, stretching your arms and turning to face Bucky. He looks back to you, slowly reaching his metal arm out to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I really enjoy hanging out with you, y/n”. Your cheeks heat up again as you feel his hand linger, resting gently against your neck, his thumb rubbing your cheek and jaw.

You look up at him, struggling to find words. “I do too, Bucky. You’re really great company to have”. He chuckles lightly as he leans in closer to you. “Yeah? I think you are, too”. You watch his eyes dance between your lips and your eyes. Your hand finds his knee as you lean slowly, watching him look at you like a meal to be devoured. Your heart beats hard as he finally leans into you, a sigh leaving his throat as your lips meet.

Everything else disappears as you feel his lips press against yours. At first he’s gentle with you, as if he’s afraid to hurt you. His slow kiss is mesmerizing. He moans softly into your mouth as your tongue glides across his bottom lip, asking permission for more. He accepts eagerly and lets you in, his right hand grabbing your thigh as he dominates you with his mouth, making the warmth in your stomach sink down into your core.

Suddenly he grabs the underside of your thigh, using it for leverage as he pulls you into his lap. The kiss is quicker, teeth and tongue meeting in a desperate attempt to have more of each other. Your panties are getting soaked, he can feel it as you grind against him. He groans as your hands find the back of his neck, tugging at his hair as you push your cunt into him through your clothes. You swear you could come just like that, just by rubbing against the bulge of his cock through his shorts. “Y/n, fuck baby”. His hands tighten on your hips, helping you move against him. “Bucky-“.

Knock Knock Knock.

“Ignore it”, you say through the kiss, finding the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head. You’re too caught up in this feeling to care who’s at your door.

Knock Knock Knock. “Bucky, you in there?! We have a training session with Steve in 10 minutes!”, you hear Sam call out from behind the door.

Bucky groans, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “Yeah, Sam, I’ll be out in a minute!”. He looks at you, grabbing your hips again. “I completely forgot about the damn training session. Steve will kill me if I’m not there”. You give him a reassuring smile and kiss his nose, moving from his lap. “It’s okay, I’ll be here later”. He gets up from the couch, putting on his shirt and leaning down to kiss you. “Good. I’ll be back, I promise”.

You walk him to the door, kissing his cheek before he leaves. “I look forward to it”. He smiles and opens the door, revealing a smirking Sam behind it. “Sorry to interrupt”, he says, giving Bucky a look. Bucky rolls his eyes and heads for the training room, yelling a “Shut it, Sam” as he goes. He laughs as he starts to follow Bucky. “See ya, y/n!”. You yell bye down the hall and shut your door.

Well.. now what?

You lay in your bed, playing what just happened in your head. The feeling in your core has certainly not dissipated. It felt so good to have his lap under yours, lips and tongue meeting over and over again. His soft moans play in your head as your hand travels down until it meets your throbbing clit.

Your breath gets caught in your throat at the contact, finally getting what you were close to begging Bucky for. You dip a finger into the slick pooling around your hole and tease yourself, rubbing slow circles around your clit. You think of how his hands pushed your hips down against him, grinding your clothed cunt against his bulging cock. God, you wanted more, you wanted to be filled up, right now.

Your movements are faster as you imagine him taking you, pounding into you as he groans into your ear. You can image his face, mouth open in pleasure as he looks you in the eyes, grunting filthy words to you. His long hair falling into his eyes, his sly smile against your ear as his hand warps around your neck. “You’re mine, darling.. that soldier could never please you the way I can”. His- wait, wait, what’s happening, why is Loki in your-

You open your eyes to find Loki standing over you, his cock straining his pants as he watches you. “Loki.. His hand finds your cheek, cupping it as he leans close to you, slowly, until his nose is almost touching yours. You couldn’t be mad at him, not with the way he’s here right now, not with the way you’re desperate to be filled.

You look in his eyes. “You manipulated my thoughts”. He chuckles. “I read your thoughts. They needed to be manipulated”. He was so close to you, his breath fanning over your lips. “Why are you here?” He moved in closer. “Because I know what you need”. His hand moves from your cheek to your neck, his fingers ghosting over your pulse point.

“I know your every desire, every fantasy that’s ever crossed your mind”. He moves then, his lips touching the shell of your ear. “I’ll take care of you, darling, just let me”. His hand moves down your body, slowly, teasing you as he makes his way to your core. Your breath quickens as he trails down, until finally he cups your mound. “Please, Loki”.

He chuckles as he starts to rub you slowly through your panties, watching you whimper under him. “Tell me, darling. Tell me what you need”. Your hand finds the back of his neck, guiding his face back to yours, trying desperately to push his lips against yours, but instead he just laughs, enjoying how desperate you are. “Use your words”.

“Kiss me. Touch me, please, please”. He slaps your clothed mound and you moan, moving your hips up in an attempt for more. “Good girl”. He crashes his lips into yours as he moves onto your bed, hovering over you as his hand makes its way into your soaked panties.

He kisses you harshly as his fingers dip into your wet hole, pumping agonizingly slowly. You moan into his mouth, his tongue taking the opportunity to enter your mouth. He groans as he continues to work on your pussy, desperate to be inside you. “Loki, fuck that feels so good”. His fingers are getting you close to the edge already, he can feel you squeezing his fingers.

He pulls away from the kiss to look you in the eyes. “Gonna cum, darling? I’ve hardly touched you yet. Just wait until my cock is buried in you, you’ll never be able to look at another man again without thinking of how disappointing they’ll be compared to me. You’ll be on your knees, begging for me every chance you get, never able to go a night without my cock”.

You groan and writhe as his words send you over the edge. You cunt squeezes his fingers as your legs shake, your mouth falling open as moans flow from your mouth. Loki presses kisses to your open lips as you come down, his fingers leaving your cunt just for him to put them in your mouth. You moan as his fingers glide across your tongue, the taste of you spilling from them. “Suck them clean, darling. Can’t walk around all day with your cum on my fingers, can I?” You shake your head no as you suck his digits, moaning around them. “That’s a good girl”.

Knock Knock Knock

[bloody-bee-tea]

Tattoo

Jiang Cheng decides to get his first tattoo the night he resolves to move out.

There has been a huge fight—yet again—where his father was more concerned with talking about Wei Wuxian, who wasn’t even part of this fight, and where his mother listed every single inadequacy Jiang Cheng apparently had.

And it’s enough.

He’s tired of feeling like shit in his own home and he’s tired of being made to feel like shit and he wants a change.

Which is going to start with him getting a tattoo.

His parents hate tattoos—one of the few things they can agree upon—and Jiang Cheng feels a little thrill going down his back just thinking about getting one.

But soon thinking about it turns into actively imagining, then into planning, and all of a sudden he finds himself in front of a tattoo studio.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t go in that first day; he simply can’t bring himself to. But then he spends another evening in the icy company of his parents, who are no longer speaking to him in the misguided attempt to make him apologize and Jiang Cheng decides that this is it.

He’ll get that tattoo and then he’ll get out of here.

Jiang Cheng goes back to the tattoo studio the next day, and this time he also enters. It’s not at all what he expected to look like, but he scolds himself for even thinking that. Clearly his parents and all their prejudices are way too prevalent in his life if he expected dirty corners and suspicious people everywhere.

What he sees are clean counters, tasteful pics of tattoos and not much else.

Until the most beautiful human being Jiang Cheng has ever seen steps out of a room.

“Hi, there,” the man says and Jiang Cheng does not swoon on the spot. “Do you have an appointment?”

Jiang Cheng slightly shakes his head to clear it and then he squares up.

“No, I don’t. I’d like to make one, though.”

“Alright. Sit for a moment,” the man says, pointing at a couch and then vanishing again.

Jiang Cheng does sit down, unbearably nervous now that he made that very first step and he wrings his hands in his lap. He’s so lost in his own head that he doesn’t even notice when the guy comes back.

“First time?” the guy asks as he puts a glass of water down in front of Jiang Cheng, who nods and gratefully takes the glass to take a sip.

“Yeah. That obvious?” he asks with a small smile and the guy shrugs.

“You get an eye for it, after a while. Nie Mingjue,” he then introduces himself and Jiang Cheng puts the glass back down so that he doesn’t notice how much his hands shake.

“Jiang Cheng.”

“Alright, Jiang Cheng, what do you want?” Nie Mingjue asks, a sketchbook making an appearance and Jiang Cheng swallows heavily.

“Just something small,” Jiang Cheng whispers. “Something I can hide away.”

At that Nie Mingjue pauses.

“I don’t make tattoos that have to be hidden away,” he cautiously says, already closing the sketchbook again.

“Yeah, well, I’m not asking for your opinion here,” Jiang Cheng snaps back before he clenches his jaw and scrubs a hand over his face. “I apologize,” he tacks on, much  more quietly, as he gets up. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Wait,” Nie Mingjue says, sighing himself. “That was unprofessional of me. I just think—this is art, you know. Something you chose for yourself, something you should be proud of. That’s just usually how this goes. But if it’s private, then that’s perfectly fine. I didn’t mean to be an ass.”

Jiang Cheng slowly sinks back down into the couch at those words and Nie Mingjue opens his sketchbook again.

“Alright,” he slowly says. “I want three little dog paw prints on my hip.”

He didn’t give this too much thought, honestly, but it feels right. It’s been years since he had to give his dogs away for Wei Wuxian’s sake and while he’s not mad at Wei Wuxian for that, he does resent his parents for it.

They were just puppies. There was a chance for Wei Wuxian to get acquainted with dogs that didn’t mean him harm. They could have given them to someone close by, so that Jiang Cheng could have gone there to see them every now and then.

But they didn’t do any of these things and just took the only friends away from Jiang Cheng he had at that time.

He is still resentful about that.

“Like this?” Nie Mingjue asks and shows him the sketch he quickly did.

It’s really just those three paw prints, nothing fancy about it, and Jiang Cheng thinks it’s perfect.

“Yes,” he breathes out and he can’t wait for them to be on his skin.

“This will be quick and I have time now, if you want,” Nie Mingjue offers him and that makes Jiang Cheng freeze.

He did not expect this to happen so soon, but after a moment he finds that it’s the only thing he wants.

“Yes,” he decisively says and Nie Mingjue smiles at him.

Jiang Cheng did not need to know that he has dimples.

“Good,” he nods, before he falls into what Jiang Cheng suspects to be the customary first client talk.

Jiang Cheng does his best to listen and nod at the right moments, but he is distracted by Nie Mingjue and the way he talks and moves and sounds.

In the end Nie Mingjue still seems to be satisfied, because he leads Jiang Cheng towards one of the back rooms where he asks him to take his pants off.

Jiang Cheng freezes again because he did not quite make that connection yet, but of course he’d have to at least take of his pants for this. He sheds them quickly, not looking at Nie Mingjue and reminding himself that he must see this several times a day and that surely Jiang Cheng is nothing special.

He barely realizes that his hands are shaking.

“Are you okay?” Nie Mingjue lowly asks him, clearly picking up on Jiang Cheng’s nerves and Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what to answer him.

In the end, the truth comes spilling out.

“No,” he admits. “My parents are going to disown me for this, should they ever find out. I mean they are going to disown me either way once I move out, but—yeah,” he finishes awkwardly once he realizes that he’s rambling because Nie Mingjue absolutely did not sign up to hear about Jiang Cheng’s fucked up life.

“Are you safe at home?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng catches him quickly checking him over as if he’s looking for bruises.

“Physically yes,” Jiang Cheng gives back as his eyes start to burn. “Emotionally not so much,” he adds in a whisper, admitting to this for the first time out loud, and he sways into Nie Mingjue when he clasps his shoulder.

“But you’re taking steps,” he says and it’s not a question.

“I’m taking steps,” Jiang Cheng agrees and finally gets on the cot, ready to get this first rebellious step done.

“Good,” Nie Mingjue says, clearly still worried, but also satisfied and when he starts the tattoo gun they don’t talk much more.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng is struggling. He feels isolated and lonely and like his parents scathing silence is going to suffocate him one of these days, even after he moved out, and there’s only one thing Jiang Cheng can think of doing.

He finds himself back at Nie Mingjue’s tattoo studio.

“Back so soon,” Nie Mingjue greets him with and Jiang Cheng realizes that it has only been three months since he got the paw prints.

It feels like so much longer, with everything that happened.

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng awkwardly says and sinks down in the couch again. “I want something bigger.”

“Something you can’t hide,” Nie Mingjue replies, even as he sits down with his sketchbook. “How is that situation going?”

“I moved out. I’m not talking to my parents. But—” he trails off, unsure if he should really just unload all of his bullshit on this stranger.

“But there’s a lot of shit to unlearn and figure out for yourself, especially if this has been going on for a while,” Nie Mingjue says with an understanding nod and when Jiang Cheng stares at him, Nie Mingjue shrugs awkwardly.

“My brother has an interest in psychology and he loves using me as his sounding board. It only got worse when he took up some classes at university.”

“Ah, I see,” Jiang Cheng says and then sighs. “I’m deciding if it’s worth going to see someone,” he then admits lowly and cringes immediately afterwards. “I’m sorry, this is not what I’m here for and it’s absolutely not your job to listen to me.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised how many people see this as a therapy session,” Nie Mingjue gives back, and while Jiang Cheng would usually recoil at that, it doesn’t sound judging.

“But I’m here for this,” Jiang Cheng says and puts a slip of paper on the table.

He’s by no means an artist, but he has always enjoyed doodling and he’s perfectly capable of designing his own tattoo, especially when he gives it more than just a few days thought.

“That is bigger,” Nie Mingjue says with a raised eyebrow as he picks the paper up. “Much more difficult to hide.”

“No more hiding,” Jiang Cheng resolutely says. “I want it to curl around my arm, the head on the back of my hand.”

“Really big then. From shoulder to hand?”

“Yes.”

“Mh,” Nie Mingjue hums as he starts to sketch something.

When he turns the sketchbook to Jiang Cheng it’s still the snake and nothing fundamentally has changed, but it still looks better than the basic design Jiang Cheng came up with.

He itches with the need to get this on his arm.

“Yes,” he breathes out, reaching out to brush his hand over the sketch. “Please.”

“You’ll need an appointment for this one,” Nie Mingjue says as he gets up to schedule Jiang Cheng in.

It takes Nie Mingjue three sessions to get the snake done and Jiang Cheng loves it more than he thought possible.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng takes his time for the third tattoo. He takes his time to get used to living alone, takes his time to figure out if he really wants to go for a business degree and most importantly, he takes his time to get back together with his siblings.

They didn’t quite fall out when Jiang Cheng moved out, but he kept his distance for a while and now he doesn’t.

Now he welcomes them into his home and his new life and he sits Wei Wuxian down to have a real talk; one where he doesn’t allow Wei Wuxian to laugh everything away—either his own pain or Jiang Cheng’s—and afterwards they feel like family again.

Jiang Cheng briefly debates if he wants to do the same with his parents, but he finds that he couldn’t care less.

He can barely think about them without getting angry or nauseous or both and he figures it’s not worth it. Not now and maybe not ever.

So instead of wasting more thoughts on that Jiang Cheng finds himself back at Nie Mingjue’s studio.

“It does get quite addicting, doesn’t it?” Nie Mingjue asks him with a smirk when Jiang Cheng steps inside and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

“Especially when you finally figure your life out for yourself,” he gives back and he has to admit that for the first time he’s not nervous as he sits down on the couch.

He knows what he wants and he knows what to expect.

It leaves him time to appreciate Nie Mingjue, though, and that makes Jiang Cheng’s stomach flutter.

There are tattoos on Nie Mingjue as well; making their way down his arms and one peeking out of the collar of his shirt. Jiang Cheng finds that he wants to see all of them.

“Okay, hit me,” Nie Mingjue says as he sits down as well and Jiang Cheng gives him his sketch.

Three lotus pods for him and his siblings. Jiang Cheng does only have good memories of them picking lotus seeds, and especially of Jiang Yanli’s soup.

“Next you’re going to learn how to tattoo yourself and then I’ll be out of a job,” Nie Mingjue grumbles as he takes the sketch and Jiang Cheng smiles with pride.

He did put an awful lot of work into this.

“I want it on my calf,” he tells Nie Mingjue who nods.

“Easy enough, but you need an appointment.”

“Sure,” Jiang Cheng shrugs and his eyes drop to Nie Mingjue’s hands, which are still holding his sketch.

Honestly, Jiang Cheng did not expect his heart to beat faster at that, or the thought that Nie Mingjue will put his hands on Jiang Cheng’s skin soon enough but he’s not going to stop it either.

The pods don’t take much time at all once the appointment comes around, and soon enough Jiang Cheng is stepping out on the street with one tattoo more.

It feels like he’s reclaiming bits and pieces of himself with every tattoo that he gets and he honestly doesn’t want it to stop.

It’s only a little bit because he wants to continue seeing Nie Mingjue.

~*~*~

“You’re going to be a regular soon,” Nie Mingjue says with a smile when Jiang Cheng steps into the by now so familiar studio yet again and he frowns, affronted.

“It’s my fourth time. How much more do I have to come by to be considered a regular?”

“Well, the true regulars drop by just to say hello, too,” Nie Mingjue says, clearly trying for nonchalant but Jiang Cheng sees the tension in his shoulders.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, but he still sits down on the couch. “But today I’m here for an appointment.”

“Do I even need to bring my sketchbook?” Nie Mingjue asks, clearly remembering that there was nothing for him to do the last time Jiang Cheng came by but Jiang Cheng nods.

“I just have an idea. I need you to draw it.”

“Oh, alright,” Nie Mingjue says, and is quick to retrieve the book before he sits down. “What do you want?”

“I want water, or waves, under my collarbone,” Jiang Cheng says and points at the spot.

It hasn’t been that long since he started to swim again, but he already knows that it will be a big part of his life from now on.

Jiang Cheng used to love it, until his parents made it into a competition between him and Wei Wuxian and pressured him to do better and better. Jiang Cheng stopped after one too many silver medals and he never picked it up again, too afraid of falling back into old habits, of feeling like shit for doing something just for fun, no matter how much he loved it.

But he picked swimming up again, and it turns out he’s still good and he still loves it. Even more now that he can just do it for fun and challenge himself if he feels like it.

And he wants a tattoo for it as well. It’s another piece of himself he reclaimed after all.

“Like so?” Nie Mingjue asks, showing Jiang Cheng the rough sketch.

It’s a little bit too stylized for Jiang Cheng’s taste and he tells Nie Mingjue so, who turns the page and starts again.

When he shows Jiang Cheng the new sketch, it looks more realistic and it’s exactly what Jiang Cheng wants.

“Yes,” he breathes out and smiles.

That one feels just as right as his other tattoos had.

“Water, huh?” Nie Mingjue asks, quite awkwardly Jiang Cheng thinks but he smiles at Nie Mingjue.

“I recently re-found my love for swimming,” he tells him. “It helps that my parents are not yelling at me to win a gold medal.”

“Did you use to? Win gold medals?”

“No. My brother did though, which both my parents used to rub in, in very different way. I stopped because they made me dread going into the water but now that I’m just doing it for fun,” he awkwardly trails off. “I still love it.”

“That’s good to hear,” Nie Mingjue tells him and Jiang Cheng is surprised when Nie Mingjue squeezes his shoulder. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you do look better. Definitely happier than the first time you came in.”

It makes Jiang Cheng flush, because he didn’t know that it had been that bad or that Nie Mingjue had been paying attention to him.

“I am. Better. Still on the way with a lot of things, but definitely better,” Jiang Cheng gives back and he tries very hard not to think about the fact that he still doesn’t know what he wants to do with his future or if he wants to get a dog, despite Wei Wuxian’s fear, or if he’ll ever be man enough to ask Nie Mingjue out on a date.

But slow steps. First he gets this tattoo and then he can think about what comes after.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng never gave much thought to his sexuality beyond the fact that it wouldn’t matter who he brings home; his parents were surely going to hate them, just because it was Jiang Cheng who introduced them.

He had looked at a few boys during school, but his mother had made it very clear that Jiang Cheng was going to get married to a business woman of her choosing, producing heirs for the company as soon as he could, and Jiang Cheng didn’t think much beyond that except ‘Fuck no’.

But now he has time to re-evaluate his sexuality and while he would probably label himself as bisexual at the moment he’s very definitely Nie Mingjue-sexual.

Not that he’s ever going to mention that to the man himself.

He’s standing in front of the tattoo studio yet again, even though he doesn’t have plans for a new tattoo yet. But Nie Mingjue had said regulars came by whenever, and Jiang Cheng wants to have that connection with Nie Mingjue.

He just can’t bring himself to make the first step.

So instead of going in, he walks up and down on the other side of the studio, berating himself that he just can’t bring himself to do it, but just as he is about to turn around and go home, Nie Mingjue steps out and walks straight up to him.

“Nervous?” Nie Mingjue asks with a teasing smile and Jiang Cheng deflates.

“I’m not quite sure how to make friends,” he admits and then wishes the ground would swallow him, because Nie Mingjue never said anything about being friends and it’s not quite what Jiang Cheng wants anyway.

“Usually you start talking to them,” Nie Mingjue says and steers Jiang Cheng towards a coffee shop.

“About what?” Jiang Cheng helplessly asks but he allows Nie Mingjue to lead the way.

“How was your day?” Nie Mingjue starts and Jiang Cheng finds that talking to Nie Mingjue over a cup of coffee is one of the easiest things he has done.

They start to do it weekly.

~*~*~

“Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue warmly greets him when Jiang Cheng steps into the studio again but he frowns when Jiang Cheng sits down on the couch. “You didn’t say anything about a new tattoo.”

It almost sounds accusing and Jiang Cheng helplessly shrugs.

“I woke up with the burning need to get one, so here I am.”

“Ah, a true addict,” Nie Mingjue says with a shake of his head, but he does get his sketchbook and sits down with him. “What’s it gonna be this time?”

Jiang Cheng takes a moment to gather his thoughts, letting his eyes wander over the tattoos on Nie Mingjue’s arms and he wonders if he can ever bring himself to ask to see them up close. To learn the story behind them.

“I want a lotus flower in the middle of my back,” Jiang Cheng finally says and it’s just because he still has his eyes on Nie Mingjue’s arms that he sees him jerk at his words.

“Between your shoulder blades?” Nie Mingjue asks to clarify and Jiang Cheng nods, finally looking up.

“Yes. And I want it in colour, too.”

It is the family crest and Jiang Cheng was torn about that for a long time, but it’s still his family and it’s still such a big part of himself that he needs to reclaim. Especially since his father does still want him as the head of the company and Jiang Cheng decided to do it.

“Oh, dear gods,” Nie Mingjue mumbles and Jiang Cheng frowns, torn out of his thoughts.

“Something wrong with that?” he wants to know but Nie Mingjue is quick to shake his head.

“No, not at all,” he says, busying himself with his pencil.

They fall into an uneasy silence and Jiang Cheng wonders what he did wrong to make Nie Mingjue respond like this, but before he can come up with a plausible explanation, Nie Mingjue gives him the sketchbook.

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng breathes out. “It’s gorgeous.”

He didn’t dare imagine the design too much, because he wanted Nie Mingjue to create it, but Jiang Cheng did not imagine this.

“Yeah?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng frowns when he hears his voice crack.

“Yes! When can we do it?” he asks, suddenly eager to get it done as quickly as possible.

“I have time today, if you’re really sure,” Nie Mingjue gives back and Jiang Cheng practically beams at him, which clearly is answer enough.

“Alright, get ready then,” Nie Mingjue says with a nod of his head towards the same back room they always use and Jiang Cheng eagerly makes his way over there.

He’s just taking off his shirt when he hears Nie Mingjue come back in, mostly because he hears the muttered “Fuck”.

“Mingjue?” Jiang Cheng asks, turning around, his shirt still around his arms. “Is something wrong?”

“Wanyin, you can’t do that to me,” Nie Mingjue breathes out, his eyes trailing over first his tattoos that Nie Mingjue himself put there and then towards his shoulders and back.

“Do what?” Jiang Cheng asks, honestly confused, but there’s something in Nie Mingjue’s gaze that makes him go hot all over.

“You can’t let me mark you up all the time and then not go on a date with me,” Nie Mingjue says, finally meeting Jiang Cheng’s eyes and it takes Jiang Cheng a moment to smile at him.

But once he starts, he can’t stop.

“Well, you’d have to ask for me to say yes,” he tells Nie Mingjue, finally taking his shirt off. “Why now, though?”

“Now,” Nie Mingjue huffs out and steps close, dropping a quick kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head, catching him completely off guard with that. “As if I didn’t want to ask you since that first time you came into my studio.”

Jiang Cheng can’t hide his blush, he’s sure of that, but when Nie Mingjue’s gaze goes soft, he finds that he doesn’t mind.

“Okay, but why now?” he asks again, though he couldn’t be happier despite the fact that Nie Mingjue still didn’t ask him out.

“You look happier, more grounded,” Nie Mingjue tells him. “And honestly, I’m only human. There’s only so much self-control I have, especially if you’ll allow me to mark up that masterpiece of a back.”

“I swim a lot,” Jiang Cheng says, smug as anything, because Nie Mingjue looks like he could bench press Jiang Cheng if he really wanted to and to hear that he likes how Jiang Cheng looks, that’s quite the ego boost.

“I see,” Nie Mingjue says, though he sounds strangled. “Go on a date with me, Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue then says, and Jiang Cheng likes the fact that it’s not even really a question.

“Weekly dates are not enough for you?” he teases Nie Mingjue, absolutely delighted by how this is going and he enjoys seeing Nie Mingjue flounder for a bit.

“You owe me at least twelve kisses then,” Nie Mingjue finally says, sounding absolutely indignant and Jiang Cheng chuckles.

“You only want one kiss per date? That’s quite disappointing, really,” Jiang Cheng says with a smile and Nie Mingjue rolls his eyes.

“We’re working our way up, once it’s officially a date and not just coffee. But you can owe me all the kisses you want.”

“I think I like that,” Jiang Cheng happily says and leans in to get started on repaying his debt right that instant.

It leaves Jiang Cheng breathless when they part and he’s strangely relieved to see that Nie Mingjue is not doing that much better himself.

“Your hand will be steady enough for this, right?” Jiang Cheng can’t help but to ask, because he wants that tattoo now and he would be disappointed if Nie Mingjue said no.

“I’m a professional,” Nie Mingjue huffs out, even as he gently cups Jiang Cheng’s cheek in his hand. “I managed to keep a steady hand all the other times, too, didn’t I?”

“That you did,” Jiang Cheng gives back and nuzzles into the hand.

They lose themselves a little bit in each other for a while, but eventually Nie Mingjue does get to prove that he has a steady hand, despite the circumstances.

Once the lotus flower on Jiang Cheng’s back is done, they go on their first official dinner date.

~*~*~

On their one year anniversary, Jiang Cheng gets Nie Mingjue to tattoo a green band around his right arm and Nie Mingjue manages to make it look like it’s shining from the inside.

Jiang Cheng catches Nie Mingjue wiping away a tear once he’s done and he would tease him for it, but since Jiang Cheng cried when Nie Mingjue revealed that the frog over his heart was for Jiang Cheng, he fears he has no leg to stand on.

Paw Prints Snake, expect imagine this spanning down the whole arm Lotus Pods Water, under Jiang Cheng's collarbone Lotus Flower, except it's in the middle of Jiang Cheng's back Green Band, there's no real pic for this, but imagine this ring as a tattoo around Jiang Cheng's forearm, because Mingjue's name is made up out of the characters for 'bright, shining' and 'jade ring' if google didn't lie to me

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[sunlightheidi]

Life Worth Living

Jihyun Kim "V" | MC / Reader

*NSFW (under cut)

Happy Sunday friends! Enjoy this very fluffy smut ~

Jihyun’s studio is your favorite room in the house.

Everything about it is light. Light wooden floors and walls a pale shade of ivory, both speckled with remnants of paint that neither of you have ever bothered cleaning. The windows are tall and give you a perfect view of the fluttering hummingbirds drinking water from the feeder you’d hung from the maple oak tree (had sat on Jihyun’s shoulders to do it – swaying and giggling).

The sun filters through the sheer curtains, illuminates the room in golden hues all through the day. It’s the perfect amount of light for Jihyun to work clearly and peacefully (whether he’s drawing, or painting or taking silly photographs of you) and lets you linger quietly in his space as he does so – content and warm in the little blue sofa and the soft blankets he’s placed in here just for you.

This little nook Jihyun has created is where you spend most of your free time. You love to lay down and daydream as you watch him work. His art is wonderful, you’ve always thought so – every piece sketched, every canvas painted, every picture taken leaves you in complete wonder of him, of his talent.

But what you love best of all is watching him create these dreamscapes; shirtless and muscles rippling as he sways freely, careless hair glittering in the light, tools in his gentle paint-stained hands – he’s beautiful.

You could lay in this little corner of yours forever; learning the names of his favorite paints, about which techniques he prefers to use, listen to way he moves and all that he dreams of.

There are days however, when minutes feel like hours and your heart feels weary because everything has gone pear-shaped and wrong. A long warm shower makes you feel a little more like yourself, but you struggle to keep your eyes open as you stumble up the stairs in your robe and nothing else, to the man you’ve given your heart and whole life too.

Ah, there he is; his back to the door and sitting on a spinning stool, paintbrush in hand and a palette in the other.

You go to him instantly, wrap your arms around his waist and kiss his back in greeting, say nothing because you don’t want to distract him from his work. You nuzzle his neck and peek over his shoulder at his current project. A landscape this time – cherry blossoms from the trip he had surprised you with for your anniversary a few months ago.

As you begin to pull away, he pulls you back and wraps his arms around you – kisses you dizzy, calls you darling and sweetheart and tells you how much he’s missed you.

You stumble into your little sanctuary afterwards, lips swollen and a little off balance but warm and happy; fall asleep the moment you wrap yourself in the coziness of your blankets.

You dream of a night in spring, of cherry blossom trees and a quiet breeze and a starry sky – a memory of gentle hands caressing your softness and making love to you under the moonlight.

The dream vanishes, colors and hues of blues and golds fill your vision – you wake to soft kisses along your thighs, on your hips. You shift a little, yawning and chest rising. Then, a gentle tap on your thigh; the solid end of a pencil. Warm, turquoise eyes meet yours as they open.

Jihyun is sitting on the sofa with you, has made room for himself at the very end with your feet on his lap, his earlier work long forgotten.

“Stay still for me, darling.”

You shudder under the weight of his gaze, seeking it even as his attention shifts back to the sketchpad in his hand, charcoal pencil in the other. Those same graceful hands that are always so careful when they take you apart; so careful and memorizing when they trace the outline of your figure on paper, and smooth an array of charcoal down the lines of your body.

Jihyun loves to spill you onto his art – pictures drawn and photographs taken of you, they are strewn all over his studio, displayed on the walls of every room in your home. They are beautiful, just like everything else about him, like everything he graces with his touch.

But hanging right next to them is your own work, a disarray of candid pictures you’ve taken of him. They are your absolute favorites because he’s always radiant and flushed, always giggles shily the moment you turn the camera on him.

“Your thoughts are spinning,” he says, eyes flickering up to you, a soft smile on his pretty mouth. “What did you dream about?”

“The night we camped underneath the stars, when the cherry blossoms were blooming.”

“Mmm,” he hums, a soft agreement. He remembers it perfectly – the night you’d laid naked with him underneath the stars and he’d made love to you until the sun rose. “A good dream then. Spread your legs a little wider, sweetheart?”

You do so, at peace with the warm flush that’s worked its way through your insides. It is still new to you, being bared like this for him to draw you, but you are comfortable. More than comfortable with him, if only a little shy at his attention, but he’s always tender with you.

His gaze flickers down your body; the blankets have long fallen to the floor, your robe in disarray and hiding nothing from him. You don’t fix it – let him watch every bit of you instead. “Are you getting a little restless, darling?”

“A little,” you admit, “but I can stay still a little longer for you.”

Jihyuns nods, a smile tugging at the edges of his lips. “Are you sure?” he asks, using his thumb to massage your inner thigh.

“Jihyun, dearest, you’re not meant to be making this harder for me,” you remind him, lowering your eyebrows in a faux-scowl, lip pouting. Your body shivers in delight as you witness his eyes darken – you know he loves your mouth, know it makes his fantasies unwind like nothing else.

He laughs, something dark and hoarse, but always as warm as the sun. “My apologies. You know I am just as tempted by you, if not more so.”

“Keep your hands to yourself,” you tease, letting your eyes fall closed once again as you slip into a steady daze. “Please finish quickly Jihyun, I’ve missed you terribly.”

And you have. All day long have been feeling a little heartsick for him.

You don’t open your eyes again for a while. Occasionally, you feel him moving you around; a hand adjusting the position of your arm, brushing hair from your face, or ghosting against your thighs.

It’s a while before he moves again, and you feel the sofa cushions shift as he slips his legs from beneath you; hear him place his sketchpad and charcoal down.

You open your eyes when you feel Jihyun hover above you – plush lips, soft lashes, smiling mouth, adoration in his gaze. You don’t need a single star or planet to align if only he keeps looking at you in this way for the rest of your life.

“Can I see the sketch?” You whisper, your body writhing at the wild, desperate look he gives you; know that he needs you just as badly as you need him.

You feel dizzy, drunk as you try to regain control of your body that never, never, never has enough of him.

“Later,” he answers, finally brushing his lips against yours, swallowing your moan as he presses every inch of his body against yours. He can’t ever have enough of you either.

Jihyun loves to capture these moments between you, has taken photographs of him pleasing you, of you pleasing him, of you two together; you wish he would paint this moment, the two of you intwined so tightly that you looked like one.

There is no need for preparation; you’ve been wet since he’d pressed you back into the blankets and asked you to stay there. Jihyun releases a shaky breath as he thrusts up and over your mound, coating himself in your arousal. You press his face into your neck and drape one leg over his hip, opening yourself up fully and giving unspoken permission at the same time.

You both gasp as the head of his cock notches at your entrances. His hips tremble slightly as he drives in, only stopping once his hips are tights against yours. You can’t help it; you squeeze around him, arch a little and writhe at the delicious fullness you feel.

“Thank you for waiting for me, my love” he says, and you know he doesn’t just mean today, or every other day you’ve watched him work while basking in the sunlight.

He means that period so long ago, when both of you were lost and stumbling through life but had fallen desperately in love with each other. When he’d left to learn how to live with mistakes made and figure out himself and his dreams.

You stayed and tried to make sense of what your life had become. Had spent so much of your time praying to the stars, to the moon, to the sun that he would come back to you.

He pulls backs to look at your face, brushes wild hair from your forehead and presses a kiss where his fingers had been. He only moves once he is sure you won’t look away. The first time he draws away and presses back in is enough to make you whine, enough to make you cry with the tender way he is looking at you.

Jihyun fucks into you at a gentle pace, loves to draw out the pleasure and just feel you beneath him. You understand why, too. All those years of secrecy and lying had left his body tired and his soul weary, and now he is eager for a moment of respite. He’s found that peace, the calmness he’s searched his whole life for, in you.

You can feel your wetness coating your inner thighs and his. You suck in a breath as Jihyun slicks your wetness up, fingers grazing your swollen, sensitive clit. A broken gasp leaves you as he presses harder, circling around you and you press yourself against his hand, rocking into him as he thrusts into you. You begin to flutter around him and he groans, his pace finally stuttering, his hips shaking against yours.

“Come on, baby,” he urges, flushed and eyes dark and shining. “Let me hear you.”

And you do. You let yourself vocalize everything that he makes you feel – the adoration, the love, the coursing desire that has lit a burning fire within you. He presses his mouth to yours and tastes every sound you make, pupils blown and completely blissed out in the knowledge that it’s all because of him.

He continues to stroke you through the aftershocks of pleasure, joins you with a jerk of his hips – brows furrowed, eyes shut and his lips parted as he moans your name.

When he finally pulls away, your thighs are shaking and your eyes are dropping with fatigue. He kisses your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, pulls back to look at the mess between your thighs and sings you quiet praises.

“Come here, honey,” he whispers, slowly standing up and hooking one arm beneath your knees, the other under your shoulders and lifts you up effortlessly. You lock your arms around him and nuzzle into his neck, sigh in quiet happiness. “Let’s get to bed.”

He carries you through the hallways of this home you’ve built together. Photographs of you two line the walls, kissing and smiling and always looking at each other with joy in your eyes.

There are pictures of your friends too, posters of Zen’s productions, blurry images of Jumin with Elizabeth the 3rd, Jaehee in front of her new café, Yoosung at his recent graduation, and plenty of the reunited Choi twins on their many adventures (because Saeyoung has taken it upon himself to hang pictures on your walls too).

Days can be long, and sometimes you don’t feel like yourself; but these still images that capture the life you once dreamed of help you remember: you have Jihyun, you have a family – you need nothing else.

You lean closer to Jihyun, kiss up his neck and across his jawline. Press your lips against the corner of his smiling mouth. “I love you.”

I would have waited a lifetime for you, you think. You have made my life a living dream.

[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

__________________________________________________

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 ! 

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Cold Katherine Pierce x Reader

You just wanted one day free from all the vampire, witch and doppelganger drama. One freaking day is all you asked for and Damon couldn't even give you that. Although you partially blamed yourself for not accepting Rebekah's invitation to come to New Orleans for. A while to get away from all the drama you turned her down because of fear of getting involved with Originals problems. But at least you wouldn't be babysitting someone you hated with a passion.

Keeping Katherine Pierce away from Silas was supposed to Jeremy and Matt's problem. But unfortunately you stumbled upon her first, and when you called Damon to figure out. What to do with her he proceeded to beg you to keep her with you. Because he trusted you to keep her safe and in check way more than he did the other boys. Alas that's how you ended up here camping in the middle of nowhere with the she-devil. Katherine glared as she watched you throw more wood in the fire to keep it going. "Don't stare to hard your eyes might get stuck" you said not looking up at her.

"Why are we even out here just take me back to Mystic Falls. I'll stay with the boys" she said. That was her first time speaking since you picked her up. You scoffed "Oh believe I wish I could but none of the boys are available right this minute. Plus none of them want anything to do with you." Both Jeremy and Matt shot you a thank you text for taking her off their hands. You sent them a fuck you reply naturally. "Well can we at least go back to town" Katherine demanded."

"No everyone is looking for you plus I don't trust you not to run."

"Oh please you would love it if I escaped then you would finally be-" And my friends lives would be in even more danger and it would be my fault" You said cutting her off. "Listen we're just stuck with each other right now so I really need you to suck it up and be quiet." Katherine looked as if she wanted to argue but you stared her down. Until she looked away and just nodded. It's not that she was scared of you but she was human now and stuck in the middle of nowhere. You hid the car keys from her so she couldn't play you. Katherine was still getting use to being human, and surviving wilderness wasn't a challenge. She was ready to tackle yet plus deep down she knew you were right. Even if she did get away the whole town was looking for her to sacrifice her to Silas.

You were one of the hybrids that survived Klaus's tyranny and got your freedom back. If there was anybody equipped to keep her safe it was you. The two of you sat in silence for a long time. Eventually you laid down using your bag as a pillow deciding that Katherine wasn't going to make a run for it. So you wanted to get some sleep but the sound of chattering teeth interrupted your slumber. You turned over to check on the doppelganger and instantly felt sorry for her. She had her arms wrapped around her body hugging herself while rubbing her arms. Her entire body was quaking when she caught you looking. Katherine immediately tried to get the shivering under control and the teeth chattering stopped.

There use to be a time when Katherine didn't mind being vulnerable around you. A time where you and her actually got along with each other. Back when you were friends and almost lovers till you found out that she was just using you. Because that's all she did was use people for her own personal gain. At least that's what you thought in all truth Katherine really did care about you. And once she realized how much you meant to her the whole plan changed. She hoped you never found out the truth but alas you did courtesy of Klaus. Who wanted to cause her as much pain as possible for always escaping him.

Once she realized there was no getting you to forgive her. Katherine just decided to treat you like you never mattered at all. But when you were this close to her looking at her like she just a lost soul who needed a friend. It was hard to think of you as someone who didn’t matter. "You don't have a jacket" you said aloud. It wasn't a question but Katherine still nodded her head. You let out a sigh and then vanished speeding away to the car. You were back at the campsite in a matter of seconds with a blanket tossing it at her.

She managed to catch it and quickly wrapped it around her. Sighing at the warmth it provided her eyes watched you proceed to lay back with your back to her. "It's still cold out here how are you not freezing. Last time I checked werewolves weren't immune to the weather like Twilight."

You snorted "I'm surprised you even know what Twilight is when did you even have time to watch it."

"You forced me to watch it one night when you were drunk. I read the books afterwards to see if they were any better" she replied quietly.

You turned over to see her staring at you with an emotion in her eyes that you couldn't place. Pain, love, regret maybe a mixture of all three. Either way it made your heart skip a beat, and before you knew what you were doing. You were walking over to her to join her on the log. "Since you're so concerned about my well-being. You're sharing the blanket now shove over and let me sleep." With a hint of a smile Katherine distributed the blanket between the two of you. She was forced to lay down with you but she didn't really mind. "You know this doesn't change anything between us" you murmured already half asleep. "I know" she whispered back staring at the sky. A few minutes later she felt weight on her shoulder. She didn't need to look to know you had somehow ended up cuddling up to her in your sleep.

She looked at you because she liked to watch you sleep sometimes. It reminded of how innocent you use to be before she came into your world. A time before you became so cold to her. Katherine really wished she could go back to those days.

[fictionalabyss]

Mated : You were dead.

Pairings : Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader (mentioned), Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Sam

Word count : 2,834

Written for : @spnabobingo​

Square : Multiple Alpha claims

Warning : Angst ahead! a/b/o dynamics, character death talked about, depression, sickness mentioned,  guilt, pissed Dean, defensive Sam, brothers be brothers.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

The final part of Mated.

SPN A/B/O Bingo Round 5 Masterlist.

The knock on your door had been unexpected, but not as unexpected as what you found waiting on the other side.

Sam. You hadn't seen him in months, but while him being there surprised you, it wasn't what made you step back in shock. It was the man standing a half step closer than he was. The man smiling at you with so much love and adoration. "Hey, baby."

"Dean?" You wanted to run. Run towards him, run away. He couldn't be real, he couldn't be here he was DEAD. He was dead, for months. This had to be a trick, a monster, or… you looked to Sam who just gave you a nod and tilted his head to his brother. His way of assuring you it was Dean.

As soon as his arms opened to you, you ran to them, throwing yourself at him and he chuckled as he caught you. You latched on, holding him tight, terrified if you let go he'd vanish, and you cried against him. The feel of him against you again, the way your body reacted to him, you thought it was lost to you forever.  "It's okay, baby. I'm home. I'm not going anywhere ever again. I’m home.” As you cried against him, Dean ducked his face into you, his nose brushing across the mark he’d left on your skin long ago, and he breathed in deep.

The action had your eyes opening and from over his shoulder seeing Sam, who stood quiet and patiently behind him. Sam’s eyes met yours, but whatever he was feeling, he kept it hidden away. You let your eyes fall shut again and tucked your nose into Dean before bringing your feet back to the ground and removing yourself from his grasp.

“You smell a little different. I wasn’t gone that long, was I?” he teased as he started past you and into the house. You swallowed. “What?”

“You were dead.” you whispered, closing the door after Sam headed in and towards the kitchen.

“Yeah I know.” Dean watched you for a minute as you heard cupboards open then close. “Wait… You meet someone else?”

“You were dead.” tears filled your eyes all over again, and you saw how his jaw ticked.

“I came back.” he snapped. “I came back to you!” he pointed at you as he stepped closer. “Who is he?” he growled. “Another fuckin’ Alpha?”

You were biting your bottom lip and looking down. He yanked at the collar of your shirt, giving him a good look at his mark still intact, and that made him furrow his brow until he saw how you tried to hide the other side of your neck from him. He wasn’t harsh, just.. forceful as he exposed the other side and took in another mark.

“You were dead.” you cried, afraid to look up at him.

“Barely in the grave by the looks of the claim.” he snapped, moving away from you with a look of disgust. “Who the fuck is he? I don’t fucking smell another alpha here. Just me and-” He stopped when he noticed you were looking past him. Dean turned and saw Sam at the end of the hall, glass of amber liquid in his hand as he watched the two of you. “You?” Dean snarled.

“Dean-” Sam started, putting his hands up, but Dean was quick to rush forward, grabbing his brother’s collar and slamming his back to the wall. The glass fell from his hand, spilling whiskey across the runner as the glass rolled to a stop about a foot from where it dropped.

“You fucking claimed her!?”

You rushed forward, trying to pull him off his brother. “Dean, stop!”

“What’d you do, Sammy? Tell her I was dead and take her in the next breath?” Sam didn’t answer, just looked at his brother with an equally hard look.

“Dean stop!” When pulling at him didn’t help, you tried to work your way between them, tried to push him off. Your heart was being pulled apart, wanting to protect Sam, but also Dean. You needed him to stop, needed him to understand. “It’s not his fault, Dean! Please!”

His hard glare was now on you as you stood between them, a few inches of space between you and either brother, but you stood your ground despite the look he gave you. “So, what? You went to him?”

“It’s not-”

Dean cut you off with a scoff. “Of course you did. You always wanted him.” he gestured to Sam, a cutting glare sent his way with the motion of his hand. “What the fuck was I? Just a bed warmer until-”

“You were dead!” you shoved at his chest. “You were fucking dead! You were all I had and you were dead!”

“Clearly not all you had. You had Sam.” he spat, and you flinched.

“No, I didn’t. Sam left. He told me you died, didn’t tell me where or how or- and then he fucking left. You were dead, Dean. I didn’t have a service or grave where I could go, I didn’t have a body to cry over I just.. I was alone. I-”

“She was dying.” Sam piped up from behind you when it was obvious that you couldn’t talk through the tears anymore. “I got a message one day, she’s crying. Only reason I came was because she said-”

“Funkytown.” you whispered. “You told me if anything happened, if anything went wrong, call Sam and say Funkytown. I did..” you shoulders were shaking with how hard you cried. “I did. I did what you told me to do.”

“What the fuck do you mean she was dying?” Dean demanded

“When I got here, you could smell it. Whole fucking house reeked of it.” When Sam put a comforting hand on your shoulder, Dean's lip curled up with a low growl, but Sam’s hand didn’t move. “I got her cleaned up, got her in a clean bed, called in a doctor.” Dean looked down at you, but you were looking down as you cried. “He said she had 48 hours at best.”

“For what? What was wrong?”

“To find a mate.” you whispered. “Heat was so bad. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t get out of bed, hadn’t eaten for days..”

“So you make her fucking eat. You take care of her.”

“I did.” Sam pointed out, fingers going from your shoulder to trace over the claiming mark he’d left on you. “Doctor said she needed a mate for her best chance of survival. So I gave her one.”

“I’m sorry.” you cried. “I’m sorry I wasn't strong enough.”

“Then why the fuck were you with some other bitch in a motel room?” Dean's tone was hard and threatening. “You have a mate at home, my fucking mate at home, and you go off to fuck someone else?”

“Because I’m not you.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“She didn’t fucking want me, Dean! She begged me to let her die, then she begged me to save her. And afterwards? She cried. She turned away from me and she fucking cried and I could see the guilt eating at her because I’m not you. So as soon as I knew she was well enough, I left. Why the fuck would I stay?”

Deans hand shot over your shoulder grabbing at Sam’s collar again and slamming his back against the wall once more, sandwiching you tighter between them. “Because you fucking claimed her!” Dean screamed at him. “You’re her alpha you piece of shit! You stay and take care of her!”

“Dean-” you tried to push him back, but you couldn’t, you weren’t strong enough.

“I told you! I told you to fucking take care of her and you left her! Twice! What the fuck, Sam!”

“Stop! Please!”

“You don’t fucking deserve her.” Dean spat. “You never did. You treated her like shit in college, you treated her like shit when you found out I knew her, and you treated her like shit after I died. I thought you had grown up, I thought I could fucking trust you. I thought she meant something to you.”

“She does! Do you think I’d fucking claim her if she didn’t!?” Sam snapped back, getting in Deans face just as much as his brother was getting in his. “I love her!”  Your head snapped to look up at him over your shoulder in surprise. “Dying or not, Dean, if she didn’t fucking mean something to me I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Then why’d you go?” you whispered. “Why’d I wake up to you gone?”

“Like I said, I’m not Dean.” He pushed Dean away from him before slipping out from behind you and walking out.

You stood there, stunned and unsure what to do. A part of you wanted to run to Sam, hold him, soothe him, tell him it would be okay. But the other part? The other part had Dean back. It wanted to be in his arms and to never let him go again. “I don’t.. I don’t know what to do..” Dean was running a hand through his hair, teeth biting into his bottom lip with anger as he paced in the hall.

“Go to your mate.” Dean answered, not bothering to look over at you.

“Which one?” That made him turn. “The one I couldn’t live without, that I finally have back? Or the one who refused to let me die? Who do I comfort, Dean? Who do I hold and promise that everything will be okay? Because right now, my heart is being ripped in two and it hurts so fucking bad.”

Dean just shook his head, a slight roll to his eyes as he turned away. He needed to get his thoughts together, he needed to to process what the fuck was happening. He’d been so happy to come back home to you, and now he felt like he didn’t have that home anymore. Like Sam had snatched it out from under him.

“Maybe he should have just let me die.” Dean spun around, eyes wide. “If I was dead, I wouldn’t have disappointed you and you wouldn’t be fighting with your brother.” You turned and quietly walked away, Dean watching you go.

Dean stared at the space long after you were gone, and then he looked over to the front door Sam and stormed out of, then down to the glass still laying on it’s side on the carpet. As pissed as he was, as much as he wanted to tear his brother apart for touching his mate, Dean only had two important people left in his life. He had to somehow live with what had been done.

With a sigh, Dean started for the door first and was surprised to see Sam just sitting on the curb outside. “Here to punch my teeth in? Cuz I won’t let you do it easy, Dean.”

“No.” Dean answered, dropping to sit next to his brother. “Here to thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not letting her die.” Dean’s head fell forward and he looked down at the ground. His hands were clasped, forearms on his knees and he shifted his hands a few times before he spoke again. “I’m pissed, Sam. I’m pissed you claimed her, she was mine. But I can’t be mad at you for saving her. There was no other way?” he looked to Sam who shook his head.

“No. I wasn’t even sure that would work. But I had to try.”

Dean nodded and looked down again. “What do we do here, Sammy?”

“She wants you.” Sam licked his lips and looked out across the street. “So it goes back to the way it was.”

“Can it, though? She’s your omega, Sam. I wanted to rip your throat out for touching her. You telling me you won’t feel the same?”

“Don’t have much of a choice, do I?” Sam looked to his brother again, the two of them watching each other for a minute.

“There’s a choice.”

“She doesn’t want me, Dean.”

“She does.” Dean nodded, looking away from his brother, part of him hated that he was about to admit this. It could be the end for him. “She wanted to chase after  you, comfort you and tell you everything would be okay.”

“But she didn’t.”

“Because she doesn’t want to hurt me. She’s being pulled two ways, Sammy. I hate that it’s hurting her, I hate that I’m hurting her.” Dean was quiet for a moment. “She-” Sam watched him, waiting. Dean licked his lips, tilted his head and sighed. “She said maybe you shouldn’t have saved her.”

“What?”

“That if she was dead we wouldn’t be fighting.”

“We’re brothers. Brothers fight.”

“Mhm.” Dean nodded. “She thinks she disappointed me.”

“I told you the guilt was eating at her.” Sam mumbled. “I couldn’t stand seeing that look in her eyes.”

“So what do we do, Sammy? Me and you, I mean. Can we get past this?”

“I don’t know, Dean. Can we?”

There was a knock on your door, but you didn’t say anything. You sat on the floor, back against your bed, knees tucked into your chest as you cried. The door gently opened, and soon someone was walking in. “I’m sorry.” You knew who it was before he even sat on the floor in front of you. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Dean reached out and pulled you against this chest. “It’s going to be okay.” he soothed.

“How can it? You’re brothers, and I-”

“You lived.” he cut you off, a hand rubbing up and down your back. “You did what it took to live. I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re disappointed. I wasn’t strong enough.”

“I’m not. I promise, I’m not. I’m sorry, okay.” he pulled back just enough to get you to look up at him. “I’m sorry, too. I reacted badly, it was just a lot to take in. I was so fucking happy to be getting back home to you.” he smiled softly at you. “You were right, I was dead. I shouldn’t have held that against you. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know what to do.” a fresh round of tears stung at your eyes, and when one fell, Dean wiped it away with his thumb.

“We’ll figure it out.” Dean promised.

“The three of us.” You turned your head to look to the door and found Sam standing and leaning on the frame. “And you’re right. I do kind of want to rip your throat out for touching her. But just a little.” he teased with a smile.

“I don’t.. I don’t understand.” you looked to Dean again.

“I’m not letting you go.” Dean promised. “You’re my mate and I’m never letting you go. But you’re his, too. We’ll figure out a way to make it work.”

You looked back to Sam who gave you a shrug. “It’ll take some time to figure out, but.. It’s not impossible. You aren’t the first Omega to have multiple claims.”

“We had a little chat before I came up.” Dean leaned his forehead against your temple and breathed you in. “I missed you.” he whispered out with his breath. “If I need to accept Sam to keep you, I’ll do it. I’d do anything.”

You nodded with a soft smile before addressing Sam again. “What about the girl you were with?” you asked, hoping he didn’t hear the bite in the words. The truth was, even with him having abandoned you more than once, the mere idea of him with another woman made you want to rip someone apart, he was your mate, your alpha.

“No one important.” Sam brushed it off. “I’ll let her down easy.”

Something in you told you there was more to it, much more to it, but Sam wasn’t saying anything else. “What do we do now, then?”

“How about dinner? I’m fucking starving.” Dean chuckled. “Then,” he whispered into your ear, “I’m going to eat you.”

Sam growled at that, and Dean’s eyes shot to his brother, both of them glaring daggers at each other. “Guys, come on.” you groaned, pulling yourself from Dean’s lap and standing. Dean was quick to follow, putting you once again stuck between the brothers and their anger. “How about Dean gets me while I get Sam. Then we switch.”

“Deal.” Sam answered, eyes still watching his brother, waiting for his answer.

“Only if I get two rounds.”

“Dean!” You shot him a look of disbelief. You were trying to keep them from killing each other and he seemed to be going out of his way to provoke Sam.

“What!? I was dead! Don’t I deserve a little extra love?” he pouted. And at that exact moment, you discovered where Sam had learned that puppy dog look he always used to get his way back in college. You rolled your eyes and his pout turned into a shit eating grin.

*If you like this, please consider supporting my work*

Tagging :  Mated -  @vicmc624​

Dean - @akshi8278​  @adoptdontshoppets​   @evyiione​ @karikatz12481​ @idksupernatural​  @deandreamernp​

Sam -  @evyiione​  @hoboal87​

SPN -  @sandlee44  @just-another-busy-fangirl  @mrswhozeewhatsis   @deanandsamsbitch  @deans-baby-momma  @thebescht @67-chevy-baby @supraveng   @musiclovinchic93 @holyfuckloueh  @ksgeekgirl   @hobby27 @maddiepants  @roxyspearing @onethirstyunicorn​    @fandom-princess-forevermore     @kalesrebellion   @deanwanddamons​   @thoughts-and-funnies

All tags - @sorenmarie87 @artemisthebadger @winchesterprincessbride @iflostreturntosteverogers @akfonkin @rebelminxy @foxyjwls007 @onethirstyunicorn @shaelyn102 @supernaturalenchanted  @kazkingdom   @babypink224221  @emoryhemsworth    @ilovefanfic86  @pie-with-hunters   @anaelsbrunette​ @lazinessisalliknow  @feelmyroarrrr​  @letsdisneythings​   @cdwmtjb8​   @notyourtypicalrose​  @xostephanie​ @ilovedeanspie​ @defenderrosetyler​ @amandamdiehl​

[lightsovermonaco]

Water Weight (NSFW Max Verstappen)

Masterlist

Dual credit for this idea goes to my beta as always, @acollectionofficsandshit thank you my love!

“You watching from the garage today?” Max asks from the tiny bathroom. His fireproof underlayer lay in a pile just outside the alcove, his boxers quickly joining. Weigh-ins were simultaneously your favorite and most dreaded event of race day. On one hand, you got to imagine Max naked. On the other, the thought always wound up distracting you for hours afterwards. 

You flop back on the couch and pull out your phone in effort to distract yourself. If you glanced up, you would be able to see his bare ass reflected in the mirror of the door he neglected to close. “I will, but I’m not going out there right away. I’ll stay in the aircon until I have to.” Max swore softly, his hand darting out to snatch the clothes back. 

“What’s up?” You put a hand over your eyes, not trusting yourself to hold your nerve. The creak of the floor tells you he’s rejoined you in the main room, safely clothed. You drop your hand and pause.

“I’m overweight,” He says, emerging in his boxers. Well, that was a shock. You hadn’t expected to see quite so much golden, toned skin. Before you can stop yourself, your eyes drift to the planes of his chest, trailing down his stomach to the defined v that disappears under the cotton.

This was dangerous territory.

Oblivious, Max continues, “Only by a couple ounces of water weight but with all the gear… Guess I’ll have to work up a sweat before the official weigh-in.”

“I can help,” You blurt, the words bubbling out before you can think about what they imply. You clamp a hand over your mouth as Max freezes, turning to you. You could practically feel the years of friendship washing down the drain with those three syllables. 

Fuck.

Max opens his mouth, then closes it again. Your heart hammers against your ribs, stomach turning sour. Max was your best friend; you sure as hell didn’t want to lose him because of a dumb crush.

A pink tinge tints Max’s cheeks. “Are you suggesting-?”

“I mean if you want-”

He closes the distance between you in two strides. Your eyes snapped up to his face. If you just looked straight ahead-

“I do,” Max murmurs, so low you’re sure you misheard him. You laugh, attempting to negate the tension rippling between the two of you. A hand flexes at his side like he’s trying to restrain himself. Your heart speeds up so quickly you’re sure it could out pace his car. 

Your breath stutters as his fingertips brush your cheek. “I… I was just…” Fuck, you couldn’t even get the words out. Five pinpricks of lightning occupy your senses, short circuiting your brain. The simple touch carried so much… adoration. No, it was more than that. Love, maybe?

Blinking rapidly, you banish the thoughts. No way. You were Max’s friend, nothing more. But…

“I really hope you weren’t about to say ‘joking.’”

You realize his fingers haven’t moved from the curve of your jaw. All you can manage is a shake of your head. It was what you were about to say, but not what you wanted to say. 

Agonizingly slow, Max lowers himself to his knees before you so you are eye to eye. His hand slides to the back of your neck, his gaze falling to your lips.

“Tell me to stop,” He whispers, inching his face closer to yours. Your eyes flutter shut, a hand eagerly gripping his bicep.

“Never.”

And fuck, the moment his lips finally touch yours, every doubt you’ve ever had about his feelings for you vanish. It’s all portrayed in the tightening of his fingers in your hair, the way his tongue prods your lower lip, begging to be set free. His free arm crushes you to his chest as you open for him, setting yourself free. The first brush of your tongue against his has you sighing.

It feels so… Natural. Like it was meant to be all along, and every heartbreak endured along the way had only served to make the end so much sweeter. Desperate, your hands travel the valleys of his muscled back, determined to commit each curve to memory. 

Max stands, his grip on your waist propelling you upward. Stumbling towards the bed, you fumble with the buttons of your shirt. Dammit, why did you have to choose today to wear something nice for once?

Impatient, Max grips each side of the shirt and pulls. Buttons fly and you stare at him, gaping. “I liked that shirt!”

“Weigh in is in 20 minutes, no time,” He mumbles, tossing the useless fabric across the small space. The stupid hopeful grin on Max’s swollen lips turns your knees to jelly, allowing him to guide you onto the bed easily. He slots his hips between your spread knees, bodies fitting together in perfect bliss.

Kissing your bare abdomen, he pauses when his fingers reach the hem of your shorts. Despite the need raging in his expression, he forces himself to wait. But fuck, do you wish he would just take it. 

“Yes,” You say firmly. It sets him free, deft hands making quick work of tearing the shorts off you. His lips find your jaw as he slips off his boxers. He braces his forearms on either side of your head. You can feel his cock against your thigh, your toes curling.

Again he hesitates. There’s a conflict raging in his eyes. All you want to do is be his peace.

“No going back,” He says breathlessly. You wrap your arms around his neck. How many times had you imagined this moment in the years you’ve pined for him? How many times had you slept with other men and imagined it was him? How many times had his name slipped from your tongue when you had your own hand between your legs?

“I don’t want to go back,” You assure him, placing a soft kiss to those lips you’ve always dreamed about. He still doesn’t move, even though you can see the desperation written on his face.

“Fifteen minutes to weigh in,” You tease lightly. That snaps him out of wherever his mind had wandered, his grin returning. He rolls his hips, easing his cock between your slick folds. The sound that escapes you is one of pure ecstasy. Your imagination could never live up to the way he fits so perfectly inside of you, stretching you just enough to know that he was meant for you.

Your name tumbles from him again and again as he moves, slow at first. His movements quickly build up to his hips snapping against yours, the rickety bed creaking beneath you. Words escape you; all you know is the feeling of sweat-slicked skin beneath your fingers as they dig into his back, surely leaving red lines behind.

Heels digging into the back of his thighs, you encourage him to go harder and faster. After all, weigh in is in ten minutes. His thrusts become sloppier, his hips angling to hit that blissful spot inside of you, sending white hot sparks through your veins.

Pleasure crescendos, and you whisper, “I- I’m gonna-”

Max crushes his lips to yours, swallowing your moan as you shatter around him. He keeps moving as you come down from your high, pulling out seconds before he spills himself on your bare stomach.

He collapses beside you, chest heaving. “Damn.”

You laugh, using your now trashed shirt to clean yourself up. “You gonna make weight now?”

“I would bet that I will.” Max props himself up on an elbow to gaze down at you. He seems lighter than you’ve ever seen him. He checks the clock, pressing another quick kiss to your temple before getting up. “Gotta go. See you after the race?”

“I’ll be here, since I no longer have anything to wear.”

His laugh rumbles over your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Wear one of mine.”

I may never recover from this, so thank you. I also never want to recover from this either. Post it, post it right now.

[dontbipanicjonsa]

The Unkiss

TW: discussion of sexual assault

The purpose of this post is to explore how and why the Unkiss came to be, and speculate (poorly) on what purpose it may serve in the future. Read under the cut  (thanks @esther-dot )

So, I’m going to tell everyone right away that I’m not a very big fan of the pre-existing theories surrounding the Unkiss. Specifically, I tend to disagree with the “how”. This is partly because I think all the explanations offered are too Freudian (*shudder*) and partly because I’ve had a similar instance myself so I tend to project (sue me). 

THE HOW

First, let’s look at the pre-existing theories: 

The Unkiss is actually a sexual fantasy that Sansa has confused with the real events that happened (exactly what Freud would say. Creepy fuck.)

Sansa invented the Unkiss to romanticize an otherwise traumatic event so she could cope with it better. 

Is there any other theory I’m missing? These are the ones I know. 

I’m going to jump straight to the second theory. The issue (for me) in this theory is that it sort of assumes that Sansa herself would consider that kiss “romantic” or that it would somehow help her cope the BoB night.

He yanked her closer, and for a moment she thought he meant to kiss her. He was too strong to fight. She closed her eyes, wanting it to be over, but nothing happened. - Sansa VII ACOK

This is the moment. She is expecting a kiss, but wanting it to be over. It’s very clear that the kiss would have been non-con. More importantly, it looks like Sansa herself would consider the kiss non-con. 

Why on earth would Sansa invent a kiss she didn’t want in the first place to make coping with an already traumatic event easier? 

He kissed me and threatened to kill me, and made me sing him a song. - Sansa II ASOS

This is the first time we are introduced to the Unkiss, and it shows that Sansa’s memory of that night is perfectly intact. The Unkiss is an addition. It isn’t replacing any other, more traumatic memory (like the threat to her life). 

Now this is what I think happened:

Her emotions were running high that night, and her mind muddled up real events with the memory of that mounting (practically tangible) terror. 

Yeah, it’s that simple. You know how you get really angry in a fight and then later you can’t recall the exact the words? Memory is unreliable. There are plenty of studies to show the varied effects trauma has on memory. There are plenty of studies to show how easily memory can distort. There doesn’t need to be a great, complex reason for Sansa to misremember a traumatic event. Also remember that Sansa may not be entirely sober for this encounter, since Cersei did make her chug that wine before. 

Being stuck in a situation where you’re terrified and anticipating some sort of assault any second? Having a single moment where the emotions peak, where you’re sure the assault is going to happen right that moment? Misremembering if the assault did or didn’t happen later? Yup. Been there, done that. I still don’t remember what happened, and it’s been years. I sure as fuck wasn’t romanticizing shit, so it never occurred to me to think that Sansa might be. So when I heard the theories I went back to her chapters and honestly, I don’t think she is either. Not yet.  

Then this happened:

She could still remember how it felt, when his cruel mouth pressed down on her own. He had come to Sansa in the darkness as green fire filled the sky. He took a song and a kiss, and left me nothing but a bloody cloak. - Alayne II AFFC

Now this is Sansa romanticizing the Unkiss. She romanticizes the kiss she remembers. That does not mean she invented the kiss to romanticize the BoB, it only means she remembers a non-con kiss from a traumatic night and chose to romanticize it to cope. See the difference? 

The kiss isn’t a way for her to romanticize her trauma to cope, she romanticizes the kiss that was a result of her trauma- to cope. 

I won’t be so sure of this theory though, because (no offense) but GRRM does seem like the kind of guy who would read Freud and incorporate his ideas in his story. There’s already a shit load of incest and let’s admit it, Sansa canonically has daddy issues. How far or in-depth did GRRM think about the “how” of the Unkiss? We don’t know. 

THE WHY

Well, this one has been explained by GRRM himself:

You will see, in A STORM OF SWORDS and later volumes, that Sansa remembers the Hound kissing her the night he came to her bedroom... but if you look at the scene, he never does. That will eventually mean something, but just now it's a subtle touch, something most of the readers may not even pick up on. - GRRM 

He also said:

File this one under "unreliable narrator" and feel free to ponder its meaning...- GRRM 

So, it’s safe to say that the Unkiss is basically being used to establish that Sansa has an unreliable memory. Of course, other characters probably have unreliable memory too (for example: Arya misremembering the name of Joffrey’s sword) but this is still most likely about Sansa. 

Sansa has always been considered an unreliable narrator by the GA anyway, since so much of her narration in the first book was at odds with the narration of Ned and Arya, who were both fan favourites at the time. This should probably indicate to the readers that the other characters are unreliable narrators as well, but it doesn’t. People carry on reading simply assuming that only Sansa’s POV is unreliable, or at least the most unreliable. So using Sansa’s POV to lay the groundwork for memory issues in someone else’s POV is...not gonna work. 

This doesn’t necessarily prove that the pay-off of the Unkiss is going to come from Sansa’s POV only, but it makes it seem likely. So I’m going to restrict myself to looking at the possibilities of misremembering stuff from Sansa’s POV. 

One more thing we need to look at before we start looking at future possibilities:

"It's not the same," Sansa said. "The Hound is Joffrey's sworn shield. Your butcher's boy attacked the prince." - Sansa III AGOT

On the surface, this looks like another memory edit. The situation is remarkably similar; it was a traumatic event for Sansa, she was not entirely sober when it happened, and now she is misremembering what happened. We know that Mycah did not attack Joffrey, Joffrey attacked Mycah. However, it’s not quite the same. For one, we don’t actually know if Sansa believes that, or if she’s just trying to be contrary to Arya. 

Also- 

"Sansa, come here." Ned had heard her version of the story the night Arya had vanished. He knew the truth. "Tell us what happened." - Eddard III AGOT

Sansa had told Ned what happened. But then she said-

She blinked at her sister, then at the young prince. "I don't know," she said tearfully, looking as though she wanted to bolt. "I don't remember. Everything happened so fast, I didn't see …"- Eddard III AGOT 

So.......is she lying or did her memory actually get fuzzy afterwards? What exactly did she tell Ned? Considering that he’s the one who asks her to “testify”, I’d assume she told things as they really happened (as in Joffrey attacked Mycah). Did her memory of the events slowly fade...and then reverse (as in Mycah attacked Joffrey)? Or is she just taking the neutral stance here, and later the opposing stance (Joffrey’s side) in her fight with Arya? We don’t know. 

PURPOSE IT MAY SERVE GOING FORWARD

First, let’s assume that the Trident accident really does count as a memory edit. This would mean that Sansa has edited her memory twice now, which makes it very likely that a third memory edit is coming. There are two directions this can go-

The third memory edit has already happened pre-canon (so technically it would be the first edit)

The third memory edit is going to happen sometime in the next two books.

Warning: this is where I get back on my Jonsa bullshit. Turn back now if you don’t wanna watch me make everything about Jonsa.

Pre-canon Jonsa crush 

If the first option is true, and Sansa has already edited her memory once that we don’t yet know about, then a pre-canon crush/moment between her and Jon is...a pretty strong possibility. 

I’ll admit, I’m very very skeptical of the pre-canon crush, simply because I think there isn’t enough evidence or foreshadowing for it. On the other hand, the groundwork has already been laid, if GRRM were to go in this direction..it would be believable. Shocking, but believable. 

We have numerous mentions of kissing games in the godswoods. We have a pre-canon conversation between Sansa and Jon about How To Hit On Ladies. And much more. The possibility is there. 

Sansa having a crush on Jon and being so traumatized she replaced Jon with Waymar Royce?? Sansa getting tipsy on watered down wine and giving Jon a blue rose-

There are other possibilities though, for example, a fight between Sansa and her father and/or Arya that she’s not remembering correctly. It would explain her daddy issues (even more) and work to create conflict between her and Arya (why though). But I don’t THINK there’s any evidence for that..? I don’t know I’m just throwing out ideas.

Moving on to the second option- a third memory edit to come

These memory edits are not likely to be nearly as innocent. 

One possibility I’ve heard about is Sansa forgetting her identity and sinking into Alayne. No. Very Unlikely. Sansa’s Stark identity appears to be going strong even in the TWOW preview chapter.

Second possibility- Sansa memory edits Lysa’s death. 

She was mad and dangerous. She murdered her own lord husband, and would have murdered me if Petyr had not come along to save me.- Alayne I AFFC 

It’s...possible? But it looks like she does remember what Lysa said and how she died. She’s just suppressing/dismissing the parts that implicate Littlefinger, which is not the same as a memory edit, where the memory is changed somehow. 

More possibilities- Littlefinger will do something and that will lead to a memory edit. She’ll flee from the Vale and run into Ramsay (I dearly hope not) and bam trauma -> memory edit. The possibilities are pretty much endless. 

Now let’s assume that the incident on the Trident was not a memory edit. This means she’s only had one memory edit yet....in which case the pay-off is probably something kiss-related, or it is something she remembers, but which didn’t really happen. A pre-canon kiss, or some serious Freudian shit that I’ve been trying desperately to avoid, a Sansa-Sandor faceoff....yea I’m not actually good at speculation.

[emilia3546]

Shadowsinger Part 14 - Gwynriel

ACOSF Spoilers! Do Not read this unless you have finished ACOSF and the Azriel bonus chapter

*

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

*****

Azriel shot a glare at Cassian as his brother raised an eyebrow and smirked at Azriel's arm around Gwyn's waist.

Drop it.

He put as much meaning into the glare as possible, Cassian relented, and Azriel rolled his eyes, but a part of him leapt for joy to see the color filling his face again, the light in his eyes, the fluidity of his movements. He couldn't help the half-smile when Cassian turned to the doorway behind him, and grinned, alive, he looked alive now.

Azriel followed Cassian's gaze to the doorway, ignoring the way his shadows were still dancing around Gwyn's feet, they hadn't stopped since they'd woken this morning, and with no sign of them ever stopping, Azriel had given up complaining. Feyre was grinning at him, with Rhys standing behind her, and Azriel raised an eyebrow,

"Nyx is asleep, and with Nuala." Rhys offered as an explanation, before dropping into the chair beside Azriel, with Feyre claiming the seat across from him, between Nesta and Emerie. Gwyn kept holding on to his hand even as the House provided breakfast, but he was forced to let go to eat, keeping half an eye on her even as he devoured the food in front of him, immediately clasping her hand again once he'd finished. Rhys glanced questioningly across at him, but there was nothing about Gwyn in his eyes, just the worry that had kept him, kept them all alive over the years. Azriel nodded, and rolled his shoulders, he was fine, hardly any pain at all, Madja's magic had all but done its work now. Rhys raised an eyebrow, but didn't object, passing his attention to Cassian, with a smile at Gwyn, which she gladly returned, and Azriel found himself mirroring her.

Still, that calmness that had crept over Gwyn faded the moment Emerie explained why she had really been so late to visit. Every rebel sympathizer in Windhaven had vanished, every last one. Even with Mor having sent his spies to confirm it before returning to the continent, Azriel winced visibly for not knowing, and Emerie shot him an apologetic look,

"When?"

"Three days ago." Three days, if he'd been here, if he'd been doing his damn job, they'd have known, would have been able to respond,

It's nothing we didn't expect, Rhys said into his mind at the same time that Gwyn squeezed his hand, And it's nothing that we weren't prepared for. His brother offered him a smile while Azriel grappled with the guilt threatening to rise again. He closed his eyes for a heartbeat, no, he was here, and he would raise hell against anyone who threatened his family. When he opened his eyes, Rhys' smirk confirmed that there was nothing of the fear left in them, only the determination, the anger.

Whilst Emerie was explaining exactly what had happened, Cerridwen pushed open the door, and made her way silently across to him, handing him a report, from Illyria by the look of it. Azriel thanked her, and she vanished again, he skimmed the overview while the room fell silent, watching, waiting, and he sighed as he spoke,

"She's right. And it's not just Windhaven, it's all of Illyria. Just over a third of the males have disappeared, some of their families with them, some alone, but no idea where." That was his next move, to find them, wherever they had gone, gone or been taken, whichever it was. He hardly noticed his shadows stopping their dancing as he spoke, leaving his side entirely to hover around Gwyn, shrouding her in darkness, in safety. "I'm going to meet with some of my spies in a few hours, find out everything we know, and," he hesitated, preparing for the resistance to his next request, "It'd put my mind at ease if you'd get Gwyn a room in the River House, Rhys." Gwyn shot him a glare, but relented at the pleading look he offered, and Rhys nodded,

"If she wants it." Gwyn sighed, and nodded,

"It makes sense, it'll be easier to manage everything if we're all close together." Azriel hadn't realized how worried he'd been that she might refuse until she agreed, and he almost laughed at the joy that swept through him as she said 'we', she wanted to be a part of his family, she wouldn't shy away from that part of him. He planted a kiss on top of her head as he slipped away to head out to the meeting, not caring who might be watching, and left his shadows behind with her, all of them.

*****

Gwyn stared after Azriel even after he'd disappeared from view, hardly noticing the rest of the conversation until Nesta reached across the table to grasp Gwyn's hand,

"He'll be okay"

"I know. I just, I don't know," she shrugged, "I can't help it," Nesta chuckled softly,

"Tell me about it, that's the problem with these idiots isn't it?" Despite herself, Gwyn snorted, then burst out laughing at Rhysand's feigned offense when Feyre agreed. She couldn't completely banish her worry, but with her sisters there, with her friends there, she could push it aside, at least for now.

It didn't take long for Gwyn to be ready to move down to the River House, and she closed her eyes as Rhysand gently took her hand, preparing herself for the rush of wind as he winnowed them across Velaris. It didn't matter that she'd done it before, she still stumbled when they appeared in the garden, but caught herself before she could fall flat on her face,

"Alright?" She nodded, and made to speak, but the words died on her tongue when she locked eyes with someone else across the garden. It was a conscious effort not to reach for the missing necklace as Elain looked at her. Gwyn made to turn away, and thanked Rhysand for bringing her, but Elain shouted across the garden,

"Gwyneth! Wait!" Gwyn paused, and turned to face Elain, carefully controlling her gaze to avoid the glare that she wanted to fix her with, "I - I just wanted to apologize, I don't know what came over me, I just," she broke off, and reached for Gwyn's hands, gently squeezing them as she continued, "Seeing him with you, the way he was looking at you, I was jealous, it was stupid, and I had no right to be jealous, we never even had anything. It was just the way he was laughing and smiling with you, Cauldron, even his shadows love you, it just reminded me that I don't have that. I should never have taken it out on you. I regretted it instantly, I'm sorry, I wanted to apologize, but you'd already gone, then Az ran after you, and I just panicked. Nesta shouted at me afterwards, and I tried to find you, but by the time I got back you'd both gone, and I know we haven't really spoken much, but I don't want to leave it like this. I'm glad he has you, that you have him, and, if you can forgive me, I'd like to be your friend." Gwyn offered her a little smile,

"I'd like that." Elain beamed at her, and made to hug her, but froze, and Gwyn stepped towards her, "That's okay, I'm not fragile, I won't break."

"Oh, it's not that, I just wasn't sure if you would want me to touch you." Gwyn smiled again, and shook her head,

"Don't walk on eggshells around me, I don't want pity." Elain froze for a moment, then smiled, and laughed,

"Gods, no wonder you and Nesta get along so well. Thank you, for giving me a second chance."

"You made a mistake, just don't make the same one twice."

Rhysand was standing just inside, pretending he hadn't been listening, and Gwyn choked on a laugh,

"I spoke to Elain."

"Oh really?" He laughed, "I had no idea." Gwyn chuckled again,

"I assume there's a reason you're waiting for me?"

"Well I couldn't just leave you to wander around until you happened upon you room could I?" He gestured up the stairs, "Second on the left, and I don't want to leave you alone, there's nothing I can be doing until Az gets back, so if you don't want to be alone," he broke off when he noticed Gwyn staring into space, "Gwyn?" She started, and looked back across to him, "He's fine, I promise, not even I know where his meeting spots are." She nodded, then shook her head and laughed,

"I'll hold you to that, High Lord."

"High Lord? Oooof, that usually means I've royally fucked up."

"Not just yet." Gwyn chuckled and followed Rhys into a living room,

"While you're here, I wanted to ask you something." Gwyn nodded, "Azriel, is he actually okay? He regularly lies to me about his recovery from any injuries, and I assume you know?" Gwyn paused, trying to decide exactly what to tell him,

"He's not in much pain anymore, but, and I don't think he knows that I noticed, he still avoids twisting around, I think his ribs are a bit sore, but he is mostly alright." Rhys visibly relaxed,

"Thank you. I worry about him, we all do, I'm glad you found him."

"Found him?"

"I'm not blind, Gwyn." She shuffled on her chair, "He's happier than I've seen him in years, because of you."

"I'm not sure it's me,"

"It is you. And I don't want you, either of you, to think that you have to hide it from us, any of us, we won't push anything, but please, don't think you have to hide." Gwyn smiled, and pursed her lips,

"It's not that I'm worried about what you all might think, it's that I'm worried he might not want to be open about anything yet, it's only been a few days."

"A few days? Maybe since you admitted it, but it's been much longer than that." Longer? Perhaps it had been, she'd certainly been wanting to spend as much time as possible with him for a while now, and he'd never once complained, never shrunk away from her,

"He just understands me, that's all." Rhys chuckled again,

"He's never allowed any of us to know who he's been with before, I don't even know if he only likes females, or if he's also been with males." Gwyn chuckled,

"You have no idea?"

"None. But he never hid his feelings for you, he quite obviously made sure you were protected this morning, and I'll just say that he doesn't kiss me to say goodbye." Gwyn snorted with laughter at the image that sprung up in her mind,

"I'd say not." Gwyn's attention snapped across to the doorway, to a grinning Nesta,

"We're moving in too, makes life easier if we're close together at the moment."

*****

It took all of Azriel's self control not to fly back to Velaris at the first report, then even more at the second, and the third. Gone, the rebels were completely gone, not just from their camps, but from Illyria entirely. Velaris was safe, Velaris was safe, Rhys was actually there, there was no way the wards would fail whilst he was there. But Gwyn was there too, and she could be in danger, if an army of rebel Illyrians showed up even Gwyn would be at risk. He didn't need to rush back yet, not until he'd spoken to everyone.

Still, with each passing second, he found himself more and more tempted to gaze West, even if he couldn't see the city, let alone Gwyn from here, just to reassure himself that she wan't about to be attacked, to see that there was no airborne army heading fro the city. A familiar face appeared in the forest in front of him,

"The stars are bright tonight." She said, keeping her distance,

"They shine with the moon." She smiled the moment he finished speaking,

"I was worried that something had happened to you when Morrigan called us to meet,"

"It's a good job she doesn't know how the message system works, or she'd have tried to speak to you all individually." The female stepped towards him, and raised an eyebrow,

"Azriel."

"I'm fine, I was just, indisposed."

"That's a funny way of saying imprisoned by your asshole brother."

"It doesn't matter, you're here to tell me what everyone else could not."

"Keir has no idea that there's even been whisperings of rebellion in the mountains, if he had, you'd have the Darkbringers to contend with as well. As for where these 'rebels' might have gone, I'm afraid I have nothing, although it would be worthwhile to call reports from Hybern and the continent, perhaps they have gone there, or another Court."

"They're very unlikely to be at another Court, Helion would never allow it, nor would Thesan, Tarquin or Kallias, Beron might, but he sees Illyrians as lesser faeries, so I doubt it, and not even Tamlin is stupid enough to get involved in a war against us. Rhys is still mad at him for everything he did to Feyre, I don't think even she would be able to stop him if Tamlin ended up on the other side of a battlefield. But I will ask."

"You seem stressed."

"Oh really? What a surprise."

"You know what I mean. More than I would have expected, doesn't have anything to do with the priestess does it?"

"Don't you get involved too," Azriel groaned, "I already have Cassian grinning at me every time she and I are in the same room, and Rhys has caught on now, so Cauldron spare me if they get a chance to talk to her about whatever is between us."

"Can we expect to meet her at some point? I heard she helped you escape,"

"Helped is an understatement, she saved my life. Anyone she wants to meet will be up to her, but she may need to help me if this war kicks off like I'm expecting." Azriel tried to ignore the knowing smile, "I'm serious, Madelyn, don't get involved." Maddy snorted at his tone,

"Oh dear gods, you sound my father when I got home after my curfew." Azriel stiffened at the mention of Maddy's father, "Oh, stop it, go back to worrying about your girlfriend, and leave my miserable childhood out of it, although I must admit, it would be amusing to see his reaction to my life now, seventy-five, no husband, no children, I mean," she absentmindedly rubbed the ring on her left hand, "I suppose he ought to be pleased that I am married." Azriel smiled,

"Tell Josie I said hello, will you? And look after yourselves until I figure out exactly what our next move is." Maddy nodded, and waved before winnowing away. Azriel sighed as he noted the sun's position, just one more meeting, then he could get home.

*****

Gwyn closed her book with a sigh, the silence around her was broken only by her own breaths, and the sound of Azriel's shadows rootling through the bookshelves. She laughed out loud when they found a book and floated it across the air, dropping it into her lap before retreating to her shoulders to watch her read the title. Gwyn could have sworn that she sensed some sort of satisfaction, and amusement, but it wasn't fae, wasn't quite sentient either, it just sort of existed, a whisper next to her ear, but she couldn't quite make out the words,

"Is that you?" She demanded, reaching out for the shadows, and chuckled when they all shot for her left hand, "You remember that, huh? Don't scare me like that."

Or what?

Gwyn started at the distinct whisper, barely audible, but smirked at the offending shadow,

"Or I'll tell Azriel on you." She said, opening the book they'd brought her, ignoring the offended gasps from the shadows, at least until they took the book away from her, "Hey! I liked that book!" She couldn't make out their response, but from what she knew of them, it was probably for the best. She was still trying to get the book back when the front door opened, although she only noticed when Rhys called her name,

"Gwyn," he chuckled when she grabbed onto the book, immediately losing it as she lost concentration,

"That was your fault!"

"I'm sure, I thought you might like to meet Altheia, since you're here," Gwyn smiled softly at the Illyrian female stood behind Rhys, and her face lit up into a grin the moment Gwyn met her eyes. Gwyn had never met her before, but there was something familiar in her eyes, her smile,

"Just Theia, please, you're just as bad as the other two, Rhysie," Gwyn snorted at the nickname, and Theia smiled again, shoving Rhys out of the way, "I hear you've been looking after my Azzy, thank you." Her Azzy? Gwyn struggled for words, but Theia continued, "You're even more beautiful than his letters said."

"You're his Mom?" Theia nodded, and grinned,

"He wouldn't tell me much, but Rhysie mentioned a few things when he came to fetch me, apparently it's not safe any more, so thank you for looking after him, Cauldron knows he needs it sometimes."

"You're telling me," Gwyn muttered, and laughed when Theia collapsed into an armchair, twisting her wings carefully to avoiding sitting on them, "it's like he's trying to get himself killed sometimes."

"No matter what you or I say, he'll still be the idiot he's always been. Rhysie says that you've been training with Azzy and Cass, you revived the Valkyries?"

"Yes, and Nesta, Feyre's sister, Cassian's mate, she and Cass have moved down here as well, so I'm sure you'll meet her soon, and Emerie, from Windhaven. Nesta began training first, then she got us to join her, and we're starting to try to rebuild a proper Valkyrie unit. We're by no means experts, but we've done as much research as possible, and Cass actually fought alongside them! He's been helping us to replicate old Valkyrie training as best as possible, and Az has been teaching me how to move and fight silently, and-" Gwyn broke off as a book landed in her lap, the same book that the shadows had stolen earlier, "And these pains in the ass have adopted me." She froze as she realized that she'd been rambling, "Sorry, I talk a lot when I'm nervous,"

"You have no reason to be nervous, I'm thrilled to finally meet you. It's not every female that will will really see my son, and not be frightened off, I don't think he could frighten you off, I think you see beneath the frightening front he puts on."

"It's difficult not to when you've seen him in the morning. A while ago, there was some magic with the library that went wrong and attacked me, and he slept in a chair next to me all night. When I woke up in the morning, he was still there, and gods, his hair was ridiculous, I don't know what he did to deal with it, 'cause I failed miserably!" Theia nodded, and chuckled,

"You should see it every time he comes to visit me, even after he's tried to tidy it from the flight, it's always messy."

*****

Azriel sighed as he trudged up the steps to the River House, desperate to bathe and check that everyone was still alive, especially Gwyn. He froze when he heard her laugh floating down the corridor, and another's, that wasn't possible, she wasn't here. Azriel followed the sound, and almost laughed with joy at the sight of his mother sitting across from Gwyn, laughing about anything and everything,

"Hi, Mom."

"Azzy!" Theia shot to her feet, immediately throwing her arms around him, and tutted at the sight of his hair, trying to flatten it back down,

"Mom! I've been flying, it's fine." Gwyn just giggled,

"Dreadful, isn't he?"

"You just wait, sweetheart," wait for what? What were they planning? "Oh don't look so frightened, Azzy, we don't have any evil master plans. Yet," she added, grinning at Gwyn, but made to leave them to talk, lingering long enough to see Azriel pull Gwyn to her feet and embrace her,

"Nothing helpful." He muttered, letting out a sigh,

"At least we know where to start looking, there can't be any immediate threat, right?"

"Probably not, but it would be just my luck that there's a sneak attack on the city while i'm not here to watch your back." Gwyn pulled back just enough to meet his eyes,

"How would they manage that? In case you didn't notice, Rhys is in the city, those wards are not breaking."

"I know, I know, I just worry." Azriel's head snapped back to the door when Rhys appeared there, Cassian and Nesta on his heels,

"What is the big deal, Rhysand?" Nesta snapped, "We were about to go to bed, there'd better be a good reason you're keeping me from sleeping."

"Oh, there is. The mortal queens have declared war on the  Night Court."