#it was enough to make me happy after the coffee break i had to take after the exam craze

[lightsoutmatthews]

please an auston matthews with the “because i know you” prompt!

"Because I know you." - Auston Matthews

summary: a collection of things he does just shows how well Auston knows you.

pairing: Auston Matthews x female!reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: none, just fluff

authors note:

since the request didn’t specify if you wanted angst or fluff I decided to make it sugary sweet :)

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It started with a cup of coffee being delivered to your office on a random Tuesday afternoon right at the second you were thinking about getting one for yourself from the coffee station down the hall.

You didn’t particularly like the coffee from there, it was cheap and the machine somehow managed to make it worse by brewing it, but it would have held you over for the rest of the day while you continued to read through emails and write responses like your life depended on it.

The cup from your favorite café in downtown Toronto was handed to you by one of your co-workers who raised her eyebrows at you. “I didn’t order that,” you told her outright, but she handed you the cup regardless. “The delivery guy said it´s for you,” she replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

There was no message on the cup, but you could guess from who it was. There was only one person who could know exactly when you could use a little pick me up at work.

He was smart by not putting a message on it. Your relationship not something really known to the public even though you had been together for over a year at this point.

You weren’t making a big deal about dating one of Torontos biggest athletes, especially around the office where his team was a topic of conversation on the daily. Not even your closest work friends knew who exactly you were dating. And it was good that way.

I Thanks for the coffee, exactly what I needed x

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

The week after that lunch from your favorite restaurant was delivered in the same manner as the coffee was. No name on the order but yours, making your co-workers once again wonder if you were lying to them about not ordering it for yourself or if you actually didn’t.

You were knee deep into the finishing touches for one of the biggest projects of the quarter and barely had time to go and grab lunch from the cafeteria, much less to make the trip to any restaurant more than five minutes away from the building.

The delivery was godsend and like he knew, he sent enough so you had something to keep for the evening, since it was almost sure that you had to stay longer than usual and would only arrive home late, way after dinner time.

You hummed contently when you took the first bite, almost letting out a moan at how good the food felt after hours of working without taking a break.

He once again knew exactly what you needed at the right time, like he was a psychic that could read your mind all the way from his road trip across the country.

I thanks for lunch and dinner, exactly what I needed. Can´t wait to see you tomorrow. x

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

The third time it happened was a week later when you finished the big presentation, and everyone gathered for a small party to celebrate the success, and that the client was happy with everything you had come up with in the weeks of hard work.

You were a little bummed because most people invited their significant others to the bar you were gathered at, unfortunately you couldn’t. Firstly, because your boyfriend wasn’t even in the country and secondly because still, no one knew who he even was.

A few of your co-workers asked about him but you kept telling them that he was away for work. Sometimes you wondered if they even believed you that he existed because you never mentioned him by name or brought him to any work functions that warranted bringing a plus one.

When a delivery person entered the bar, shouting your name for everyone to hear, you froze. “Sign here,” the guy rushed out, putting the tablet in front of your face quicker than you could react to anything.

You scribbled your signature before he handed you a box, a beautiful bouquet of flowers peeking through a hole at the top.

When you opened it, a bouquet waited for you, alongside a card.

One of your co-workers snatched it directly from the box before you could react. “Hey,” you laughed. “Congratulations on finishing your big project, sorry I can´t be there to celebrate. A.” she read.

You blushed at the message, he once again knew exactly what you needed from him in order to feel better about him not being there with you.

“Woah, we know mystery man is in fact real, and his first name starts with an A? We´ve been waiting for this confirmation for months!” you shook your head laughing. “That´s some expensive flowers, he´s got money.” Someone else chimed in.

“Give me that,” you laughed, snatching the card back before they could ask about it even more.

“One day you will introduce us to him,” someone chuckled. “Who knows, maybe you already know him,” you teased which only raised more eyebrows.

I The flowers are beautiful, thank you so much. x

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

When you arrived at Auston´s place that night you were exhausted. The months leading up to this day catching up with you, swallowing all the energy you had left in your body, almost making you too tired to get out of the car and walk up to his door.

When you finally mustered up enough strength to make your way, he was already waiting in the frame. An easy smile on his lips, Felix next to him, excitedly wiggling his tail at your arrival.

“Hey snuff,” you greeted the dog, quickly patting his head before standing up straight again to greet your boyfriend, the flowers firm in one hand.

“Hey,” you greeted the tall man, a shy smile on your lips. “Hey,” he chuckled, opening his arms so you could slip right into his comfortable embrace.

Tension left your body as soon as he wrapped his arms around you. The familiarity of his arms taking every ounce of stress away for the moment.

“Long day?” Auston whispered in your hair. “Long month,” you replied chuckling. “Come on, I ordered some food and when were done I can set you up a bath before we go to bed.” You let out a loud sigh. Exactly what you needed.

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

After eating on the couch, chatting about your days in hushed voices between laughter and shared bites, he made his way to the upstairs bathroom to set up a bath while you cleaned up the plates and made sure Felix got another snack before heading upstairs to join him.

The bathroom was lit up with a few candles he pulled from God knows where and it was smelling like your favorite bath salt. The one that you usually kept for special occasions because it was expensive.

“Since when do you have my favorite bathing salt in your bathroom?” He just laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

Raising you eyebrows at him you decided to let it go without questioning it any further and to just enjoy that he was paying enough attention to actually know what to buy.

While you were enjoying the warmth of the water relaxing your muscles and taking your mind off things Auston rumbled around downstairs doing something you didn’t care enough about to question. Every now and then you heard clinking, but it wasn’t worrying enough to go and check out.

A few minutes later he came back and handed you a glass of wine. “How did you know?” you questioned with another raised eyebrow, but he once again just shrugged and smiled before leaving you alone to soak and relax for as long as you wanted.

When the water started to get cold you got out. On the toilet laid a navy-colored hoodie. The exact one he was wearing earlier when you were sitting on the couch.

He knew one of you favorite things to do after a long day was to wear his hoodies, especially when there were worn and smelled like him.

You slipped the soft fabric over your head and inhaled deeply before putting your stuff away and making your way back to the living room after a quick detour to the bedroom to grab your phone and drop off your bag that you discharged in the hallway on your way.

Auston was snuggled up with Felix on the couch, your favorite movie already cued up, a warm blanket draped over him, the other half waiting for you to cuddle under and relax for the rest of the evening.

“You´re spoiling me today,” you mumbled after cozying up under the blanket, one arm placed on his chest, while your head rested on his shoulder.

“You deserve some relaxation after the month you had. I know how hard you worked.” A soft kiss to the crown of your head followed before the room was filled by only the sound of the movie and your soft breathing.

When you opened your eyes the next time the credits were rolling and Auston was playing on his phone. “Good morning,” he chuckled lightly before putting the device away.

“Hey,” you mumbled quietly. “Slept well?” he asked, an amused smile spreading on his face. “Yeah, but I need to go to bed, otherwise I won´t make it up,”

A soft laugh left his mouth. “Come on,” he said, getting up and holding out a hand for you to grab. When you stood at your full height he bent down and swept you off your feed, carrying your bridal style up the stairs.

“I can walk on my own, you know?”

Careful to not drop you he laughed. “I know, but sometimes you deserve to be carried.”

You shook your head but laughed at his remark.

When you were nestled in bed together, his arm lazily slung around your waist, your hand softly drawing the patterns of his tattooed arm you sighed. “What´s up?” he whispered.

“This evening was all I needed, from getting the flowers all the way to now,” you sensed that he felt a but coming. “no but, I promise, just a question,”

He nodded his head in a motion for you to go on. “How do you always know exactly what I need? Not that I´m complaining but it is a little scary that you sent me coffee the exact moment I was craving some, or sent me lunch on a day where I did not have time to get some myself?”

A quiet laugh left his mouth. “Easy question. It’s because I know you.”

“Thank you, for knowing me and for taking care of me.” You mumbled, already half asleep again. “That´s what I´m here for,” he laughed, which was the last thing you heard before you drifted off into sleep again.

[lilacerull0]

i feel like i'll ruin it if i give a code name to this person, but his histology thoughts are <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

[daemonbrain]

"One of me is cute but two though!"

2.4k, cw: breeding kink, smut, kinda baby trapping (?), not proofread

a/n: based off Juno by Sabrina Carpenter hehe happy reading :)

Simon Riley who would go to the ends of the earth for his bird. You wanted to watch your favorite movie for the millionth time with him? Done. You were craving take out from that special spot across town in the middle of the night? He’s placing your order and grabbing his keys to go pick it up after a quick goodbye kiss. You wanted him to kill a little red-haired prick who got too close to you -grazed your arm- yesterday at 17:37 while in a crowded line when he went to the loo, with his bare hands? Fan-tastic. (He may be projecting a little)

But he was worried. He might not be the most perceptive man, but he wasn’t so thick headed he couldn’t see the signs.

The way you made googly eyes at every baby you passed by. Fuck sakes he had never seen so. many. babies. 

Little things everywhere nowadays, though it might just be he’s now paying enough attention to notice. It definitely helped the unintentional search that your grip on his arm tightened every time you saw one. Your soft coos as you turned to him to say for a third time in a row that the babe was the “cutest thing you had ever seen”.

He loved you like he loved his gun after it got him out of a tough spot (he loved you more, but he's pretty poor at putting an example on it), but there was one thing he was wholly unsure he could give you. Being a father has never been something he was sure of, his own making his childhood a living hell assuring him that it wasn’t in his genes or anywhere in his future. He came to terms with that years ago and shoved the idea out of his mind entirely. 

As you both sat down at a coffee shop while taking a break from your park walk, you just happened to get seated right next to another woman, a stroller in your direct view.

Fuckin’ great.

Biting your lip you take a peek at the chubbiest little thing in a deep sleep. Catching the gaze of the mother you smile. “She’s adorable” you chirped. 

As the mother responded with a smile of her own, Simon felt a foot gently nudging his leg as gave him the prettiest eyes. Did you even try to hide it anymore? No, you really didn’t. Eyes filled with thinly veiled intentions, eyes that said “Look how cute! Jump across this table and give me one now,” 

“Isn’t she cute Si?!”

He sighed and replied in his usual grumble, “course, ‘er little jumper is nice.” Tactics. Swiftly move out from the topic and do not let the missus see the little bows… on the jumper… he just pointed- for fucks sake you saw it.

After quite some time giggling with the mother over photos, because of course that had to be the natural progression of things, Simon observed in his characteristic shadow-like demeanor before the little one began to fuss in her sleep. The mother excused herself and the babe to nurse and it’s then you finally turn back to your silent companion with your usual beaming.

“ ‘avin fun there, yeah?” He laughed which came out more as a snort as you mockingly kicked him under the table.

“I am as a matter of fact!”

Pulling his hands into the air in surrender he looks you head on. “Okay, I get it.”

“The baby was just so- ugh! Did you see how chubby she was? Her little hair.. Gosh!” Stay on task. Do not get distracted by the target's beautiful smile or laugh. Someone had to be the voice of rationale after all.

“Like I said ‘er jumper was nice.”

When the pout came to your lips, he considered it a success (you were hot either way) and chalked the whole thing as a minor bump in the road. Whatever this baby fever was would pass.

Nonetheless, he should’ve known his bird better than that. She wasn’t a quitter, that’s for damn sure. As you cooked up dinner in that cute apron and served it plated up so nicely it dawned on him just how… domestic this all was.

It was nice, he concluded. Calm.

You remained pensive and quiet for the most part during dinner, clearly desperate to say what you had been on your mind for weeks. He could see the way your mind's gears turned, wanting to blurt it out. Like an animal going feral at the bars of its cage. Except your the animal and your cage is the inherent trust you will not go awol and chuck your birth control pills into the trash while he’s not watching.

“Simon…” 

Here it comes.

Simon grunted out his response while chewing on his food, looking up to meet your cautious gaze. Leaning across the table you gently lay your hand on his which held his fork, pushing it down.

“I’ve been thinking… a lot lately.” There you went with that look again. “Have you… ever thought of kids before? I- I know we’ve had this talk before… but-”

“C’mere.”

He outstretched his big arms and patted his lap. With quick acceptance you hurried over and let him pull you on top of him, one hand on the back of his chair and the other on your ass for support. The deep kneading of it was also for support of course. 

“You know how I feel about them. ‘Is jus not somethin I think about.” He didn’t dare look away from your eyes. If he was about to take that gleam out of your eyes he at least owed it to you to watch.

You grabbed his face with a light touch and caressed the stubble which had begun to grow with a look beginning to resemble a spot of desperation. Pressing yourself further into his body, you couldn’t help your protests.

“Si.. I just- I want one so bad.” You began to slide your hand down the side of his neck, pressing forward to gently place a kiss. Leaning your forehead in the junction between his shoulder and neck you continued before he could respond.

“Don’t you? A little baby with us all the time.”

Someone had to be the voice of reason and Simon was going to have to put his foot down on this.

“You’re not thinkin straigh’. It would be cute-” He was cut off in shock as he felt the slight rock of your hips as you cowered into his shoulder.

“Just imagine it! One of me is cute enough, but two!” The pace began to speed up as you blatantly started grinding against him. He let out a little huff. Voice of reason. Though his reason was nowhere to be found when he put his hand that was idly on the chair to your backside to encourage the movement.

You knew what came next, you had to sweeten the pot. You knew you were being mean, but you just had to! You were practically given no choice!

“Don’t you want that Si! Don’t you wanna make something together?” You all but pleaded. He looked straight past your head with a crumbling steely demeanor. Fuck.

You already began to tug at his shirt and with a final glare, Simon couldn’t help but look at his pretty bird. His pretty bird on top of the prize she coveted, heat passing between their bodies. Just one time. One time and then they could talk about this properly. 

Simon gathered you up in his arms and stood while pressing an eager kiss to your lips. It was a soft and long thing as he brought you both to the bedroom you shared. He threw you down on the bed and stripped himself as you excitedly did the same.

Smiling up at him as if you won. You did not win. This was not a win, right? You were on your birth control either way, he would pull out as needed. What harm is there in fucking his own girl.

Pushing you on to your back he parted your legs to look what lay between them. There was the prize he was most proud of. Puffy cunt at the mercy of the cool air being pushed out by the vents. You were already beginning to shine.

“You were just waiting for it weren’t you? Knew I couldn’t leave you hanging, yeah?”

With a giggle you spread your thighs further and wiggled your hips teasingly. Simon dropped to his knees and pulled your body to the edge of the bed. Throwing each of your legs on either of his shoulders he spit into your cunt, taking two thick fingers and rubbing it in, catching on to your hole lightly as he played with the slick. He could see the way your stomach tightened as he circled your clit and he winded you up further when he firmly flicked it.

“Si” you whined.

“Wha’ is it?” He grinned as he lowered his head to press a kiss down. Devolving from a kiss, he grabbed onto one of your thighs with a strong grip and began to sloppily lick while you let out your breathy little moans, sensitive to the absolute tank holding you still as he ate straight from the source.

He licked and it just kept going. Dragging his tongue around your cunt, up to your puffy clit. He harshly sucked as he latched on to it drawing a cry from your vulnerable form. Tugging at his hair, he only looks up with his eyes, refusing to pull away his mouth. 

Shaking your head with wide eyes you couldn’t help but push your fluffy little agenda.

“Si please. Please. Please, I need it! I’d never ask for anything else-” you moaned in surprise once again as he added a finger into your hole. Willing himself to pull away from you, Simon continued to fuck his finger into you as he spoke up, spittle and slick coating his mouth. He had to switch gears, use logic (and cum) to deter you.

“We’d never have time. All this?-” He added another finger into your clenching pussy “Gone. We’d be cleaning spit up instead.”

“We’d have a baby!” You exclaimed insistently.

You were practically off the edge, usually by now Simon had you fucked into your own little world. This incessant begging for a little one of your own is keeping you sharper than usual. He’d fix that.

“Please Simon” You pulled him up, the strain of his cock to be inside you encouraging him to follow your movements. He looked at you pretty tits, pretty like everything else on you. Taking a nipple between his fingers and rolling hard.

“These’d get all full.”

Fuck that backtracked his own point. His mind fighting back the onslaught of thoughts at the sight of your tits growing round and heavy because of something he could do. Would your body get all soft- NO.

Lining himself up and looking at that pleading expression, the only time he’d ever seen you so wanting of something you were willing to roll around with nothing else on your mind.

“Just one Si, just one with your eyes your nose your hair-” Your breath went short as he pushed himself in, giving shallow thrusts to feed into your aching cunt. Recomposing yourself you gripped on to his bicep, “Just do it, lock me down tonight.”

Simon couldn’t help the way he subconsciously began pushing your thighs up to give himself a deeper angle, your ankles dangling weightlessly above your head, knees to your chest. The groans which sounded through the room as his hips hammered into you in a desperate chase. 

The two of you could do nothing but stare into each other's eyes, losing yourselves in each other while your cunt squeezes him like a vice. Determined to keep him there, body obstinately stuck on one thing.

 Someone had to be the voice of reason. Someone had to object to a little one with his eyes and your personality. Someone had to be rational and not think about painting the nursery while you waddled about. Someone had to remain level-headed and not imagine the way your eyes would light up with unfettered joy.

You tossed your head back and he couldn’t help but grip your face in his hand, tugging it right back to him.

“With me bird, with me. Look at me.”

Someone had to be rational.

Nodding your head shakily you keep your eyes on the massive man pounding away at you, feeling the way your stomach bulges trying to accommodate all of him, your cunt coaxing him further into the sticky trap.

Your body begging for one thing, you looked like you needed it. Tongue lolling out of your mouth as you were fucked stupid, sweat collecting on your brow. You looked perfect. Your whining swallowed by his own mouth when he presses another kiss to your swollen lips, body enduring in hopes the fat cock ruthlessly disturbing its peace would grant it the big load it craved.

Someone had to be rational?

Maybe it was the way you sucked him in, the way he couldn’t stop thrusting into you, but it’s as if your body sent some message to the receptors in his mind. All that flashed before him images of happy and full and with his baby.

As if you could sense his thoughts, your own peak quickly overcame you white hot. The way you spasmed around him with a loud cry of pure ecstasy.

“Give it to me!” You somehow managed. His mind went blank as drunk off the pleasure as you were, the only thing he could do was thrust, unable to comprehend anything else.

 A shame Simon couldn’t be rational when it came to his bird.

With the final slam of his hips, his release went into the deepest depths of you. His grip on your hips burning from how tight it was as he kept himself flush against you.

It took a few moments to come down from the high. Simon looked at your sweaty face, hazy from lack of energy. Maybe you did win this one, but he really didn't get all this effort (not that he was complaining) if you were still on birth control.

Birth control... which he hasn't had to remind you to take for quite some time...

Out of pure curiosity at his realization, he gently pushed the two of you further up the bed while keeping you plugged up. Opening the first drawer he manages to grab the box which contained your birth control pills. Upon further inspection, he notices it remains unopened and untouched. Shaking his head with a gruff laugh he peers down at you as you shiver from the rumble.

“Dirty girl”

You just smiled.

[avianyuh]

Romance Novels | Choi Seungcheol

“What are you reading?” Seungcheol questioned as he sat down beside you on your shared bed. He lightly pulled back the book, peeping onto the vast span of words decorating the pages. "You look so focused." He smiled. You smiled as you placed the book down on your chest. 

“No offense Cheol, but I don’t think you’d be overly interested in this one.” To that, Seungcheol raised an eyebrow in surprise at you. 

“Now why would you assume that? I read the last book you gave to me.” He explained as he reached his hand over to grab the book sprawled across your chest. There was something so inherently sweet about the fact you were comfortable enough to grab each other’s things and investigate. You’d do the same whenever you’d catch Seungcheol spending more time than usual on his computer. Kicking him out of his seat if you weren’t sitting in his lap, investigating what had your boyfriend so fascinated. 

“Well, the last book I gave you was a mystery so I knew you’d be entertained.” Seungcheol nodded his head before resting it onto your shoulder. “But this book is a romance novel and I know you hate watching rom-coms with me so I just assumed you wouldn’t want to read this one…”, you trailed off. 

“In my defense, that last movie you made me watch was horrible, even you lost interest after the first hour.” He laughed as he lifted his head to get a better look at you. You rolled your eyes and playfully pushed his face away. “What’s this book about?” he asked curiously, glimpsing down at the back cover. 

“You seriously want to know?” you said in surprise. When Seungcheol smiled, responding back with a resounding yes, you obeyed his wish. “The main character is this girl who moves to this new city. She doesn’t know anyone and she’s working at this new job which was the whole reason behind her move. Anyways, turns out that she hates the new job and all of her coworkers treat her like an outsider. So she’s walking home from work one day and she’s thinking about how she’s homesick and how she regrets moving.” You watched as Seungcheol laid down on his stomach, propping his head up with a pillow, looking invested. You found the image adorable as you continued explaining the plot of your book. “So she’s walking, it’s pouring rain and her emotions get the best of her. She breaks down in tears, and she’s keeping her head down and all of a sudden she crashes into someone. And it turns out to be this guy she went to High School with that she hasn’t seen in almost a decade. So he takes her to this coffee shop and he’s trying to comfort her and then they start catching up on life. But the whole point of the book is him trying to convince her to stay in the city, and then they start to develop feelings for each other…Well, I don’t want to say anything else because I don’t want to spoil it.” Seungcheol nodded his head understandingly. 

“How far along are you in the book?” He asked, handing it back to you. You skimmed through it, counting how many chapters you had left. 

“Uh, I’m on chapter 19 and there’s 23 in total so I’m almost done. Why, you want to read it? Romance isn't your thing”, you teased. 

“Would it make you happy if I read it?” Seungcheol responded back which in turn made your heart melt. "And that's not entirely true, I only like our romance. It's better than the books you read." You covered your face as you tried to conceal your giggles.

“Aw, Cheol, I told you that you wouldn’t like it.” you shook your head as you crawled towards him so that you were now also situated on your stomach, face to face with your boyfriend. He leaned in, placing a soft, chaste kiss on your lips. 

“I figured I wouldn’t but I like to get involved with your hobbies because your eyes light up when I talk about all of your favorite books. I love to see you excited and happy.” He whispered, caressing your cheek. 

“So do I.”, you answered as you both sat up, leaning back in for another kiss. 

{A/N: HAPPY 2025 EVERYONE! This is the first post of the year and I can't wait for the new stories this year will bring. As always love you and mwahhhh💋}

[cherryxbooo]

I’ll do anything to make you happy

Summary: You were excited for winter break to start because it meant one thing: spending more time with Lando. But little did you know, that was the one thing you wouldn't be getting.

Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: fluff/angst

Winter always held a special kind of charm for me.

The frosty mornings, cozy blankets, and steaming cups of cocoa had always made this season my favorite.

But this year, it held a different promise: Lando finally had a break from racing.

After months of hectic schedules, jet-setting across the globe, and stolen moments in between races, I was looking forward to having him all to myself.

At first, it was everything I’d imagined and more.

We spent lazy mornings tangled in bed, with me teasing him about his messy hair while he pulled me closer, claiming I was his personal heater.

Breakfasts turned into brunches because we couldn’t stop talking or joking around.

We watched movies, baked cookies that turned out terrible, and played endless rounds of Mario Kart, which I always managed to win.

“You’re only winning because I’m letting you,” Lando said one evening, his grin teasing as he tossed the controller onto the couch.

“Sure you are,” I replied, laughing as I grabbed my victory snack from the table.

Those first few days felt like we were in our own little world, where nothing else mattered but us.

But soon, reality began creeping in.

It started innocently enough.

“Babe, Max just called,” Lando said one morning, leaning against the counter with his coffee mug in hand.

“He’s organizing a karting session. Shouldn’t take long.”

I smiled, my heart swelling with pride.

Racing was his passion, and I loved seeing him happy. “Go have fun. Just don’t let him beat you.”

“Never,” he said with a wink, kissing my temple quickly before heading out.

That day, I didn’t mind the quiet. I worked on some projects, caught up with friends, and even took a long bath.

By the time he got home, his cheeks were flushed with cold, and he couldn’t stop talking about how much fun he’d had.

But karting soon turned into golf.

Golf turned into poker nights. And poker nights turned into outings that stretched late into the night.

“I’ll be back soon,” he’d text, always with a heart emoji. But “soon” became later and later each time.

I told myself it was fine. He deserved this break.

He’d worked so hard all year, and if spending time with his friends helped him unwind, who was I to complain?

But as the days wore on, the house began to feel emptier, and so did I.

One evening, I decided to surprise him with his favorite dinner.

I spent hours in the kitchen, setting the table with candles and dimming the lights for a cozy atmosphere.

When Lando walked through the door, his expression softened as he took in the setup.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.

“I wanted to,” I replied, smiling up at him.

“You’ve been so busy, and I thought it’d be nice to have a quiet night together.”

“That’s so sweet,” he said, leaning down to kiss me.

“But the guys are waiting for me. I promised I’d meet them for drinks tonight. Let’s rain check this?”

My smile faltered, but I nodded. “Of course.”

He kissed me again and was out the door before I could say anything more.

I sat down at the table, staring at the empty chair across from me.

The candles flickered, their light reflecting off the untouched plates. I took a deep breath, telling myself it was okay.

But deep down, a tiny crack had formed in my heart.

Days turned into weeks, and the cracks only deepened.

Lando’s absence became more noticeable, and I began to feel like a ghost in our own home.

One evening, after scrolling through endless photos of him with his friends on Instagram, I called Mia, my best friend.

“What’s wrong?” she asked the moment she picked up.

I sighed, the weight of my emotions pressing down on me.

“It’s Lando. He’s been spending so much time with his friends lately, and I feel like I’m… invisible.”

Mia was quiet for a moment before saying, “Y/N, you’re not invisible. But you need to talk to him. He’s not a mind reader.”

“I don’t want to seem clingy,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re not clingy. You’re his girlfriend. He should want to spend time with you. Talk to him.”

Her words gave me the push I needed. That night, when Lando came home, I gathered my courage.

“Can we talk?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Of course,” he said, sitting down next to me.

I took a deep breath.

“I’ve been feeling… neglected lately. I know you’re enjoying your break, and I want you to have fun, but I miss us. I miss you.”

He frowned, reaching for my hand.

“Babe, I’m sorry if it feels that way. But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

I nodded, but his words didn’t ease the ache in my chest. Before I could say more, he kissed me and stood up.

“Max needs help with something,” he said, grabbing his keys. “Love you!”

And just like that, he was gone. Again.

I tried my best to push away all negative thoughts until I thought about the positive ones.

Our second anniversary was just days away, and I held onto the hope that he’d make it special.

I told myself the late nights didn’t matter. He was probably planning something incredible for our anniversary.

The next day,

The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft golden hues.

I stretched lazily, a content smile curling my lips as I reached across the bed.

My fingers met cold sheets. The space beside me was empty.

I frowned, the giddy excitement I had woken up with faltering.

Today was our second anniversary.

I had imagined waking up wrapped in Lando’s arms, whispering sleepy “Happy anniversary” wishes before sharing breakfast together.

Instead, he was gone.

I also realized that I hadn't heard him come back last night.

He told me he was just helping Max out with something, but he probably went out partying with his friends afterward, again.

I tried to shake off the disappointment as I climbed out of bed, brushing my hair out of my face.

Maybe he had planned a surprise and needed to step out early.

A flutter of hope lifted my spirits as I grabbed my robe and headed toward the kitchen.

The scent of coffee greeted me, but there was no sign of Lando.

Instead, on the counter, I found a note written in his familiar scrawl:

“Gone golfing with the guys. Be back later. Love you.”

My heart sank. Golfing? On our anniversary?

I swallowed the lump rising in my throat, trying to focus on the fact that he had said he’d be back later.

He wouldn’t forget our dinner, right?

We’d planned this evening together weeks ago, and I’d been looking forward to it ever since.

I folded the note and placed it aside, telling myself not to overthink it. He would be back in time.

He promised.

After a quick breakfast, I set to work preparing for the evening.

My heart thudded with a mix of excitement and nervousness as I laid out my plans.

Lando had been so busy lately, and this was my chance to remind him how much I loved him, despite everything.

I spent hours in the kitchen, cooking all his favorite dishes: his go-to pasta, a roasted chicken dish he always requested, and even the dessert I’d failed at three times before finally perfecting.

The smells of herbs, garlic, and chocolate filled the apartment, making it feel warm and inviting.

Between stirring pots and chopping vegetables, I took breaks to set up the dining table.

I draped it with a soft cream tablecloth, adding candles and a scattering of rose petals for a romantic touch.

Fairy lights hung along the walls, casting a cozy glow that made the space feel magical.

On the counter, I carefully placed his gift, a sleek watch he had admired months ago but never bought for himself.

Not forgetting to attach a handwritten note to the box.

With everything ready, I checked the clock.

It was almost evening. So I had to hurry up to get ready.

I slipped into the dress I had chosen weeks ago, a soft, fitted number I knew he loved on me.

My makeup was simple yet elegant, and I added the finishing touch, a spritz of the perfume Lando had gifted me for my last birthday.

I felt beautiful, excited, and nervous all at once as I sat on the couch, watching the clock.

Five minutes passed. Then ten.

By the time twenty minutes had gone by, I grabbed my phone, texting him a quick, “Hey, are you on your way?”

No response.

An hour later, I texted again. Then called. Still nothing.

My excitement turned into a gnawing worry that sat heavy in my chest.

Where was he? Had he forgotten?

Two hours passed.

The candles on the table had burned down halfway, their flickering flames reflecting off the now-cold plates of food.

The fairy lights, once magical, now felt like mockery.

Finally, three hours later, I gave up.

Tears stung my eyes as I blew out the candles, packed away the food, and removed my dress, exchanging it for soft pajamas.

My makeup was smeared with tears by the time I climbed into bed.

I grabbed my phone one last time, and my heart shattered when I saw the Instagram story.

It was one of Lando’s friends, showing a clip of him laughing, drink in hand, surrounded by his friends.

He looked happy. Carefree.

And completely oblivious that tonight was our anniversary.

The tears came faster, hot and uncontrollable. I buried my face in the pillow, the ache in my chest overwhelming.

I had been so sure he’d come back, that he’d remember. But I was wrong.

Later that night,

The apartment was cloaked in silence when Lando opened the front door, the click of the lock echoing faintly in the stillness.

He stumbled inside the weight of exhaustion and faint traces of guilt tugging at his chest.

The soft glow of the streetlights outside illuminated the darkened space just enough for him to make out his surroundings.

Something felt… off.

He reached for the light switch, and as the room was bathed in warm light, his eyes landed on the dining table across from him.

He froze.

The table was beautifully decorated, candles placed strategically, now melted into small stubs, surrounded by rose petals that had been artfully scattered.

Plates of food were neatly covered with lids to keep them from going bad, but even from a distance, Lando could tell they were his favorites.

He took a tentative step forward, his stomach sinking further with each movement.

Resting near the center of the table was a small, wrapped box with a note attached to it.

The sight made his chest tighten, a creeping realization clawing at the edges of his mind.

His fingers trembled as he picked up the note. Unfolding it carefully, he read the words in her familiar handwriting:

"To my Lando, the best thing that ever happened to me. Thank you for being my partner, my love, my everything. Happy anniversary, baby. Love, Y/N."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart sank as the full weight of the evening’s significance crashed over him.

Anniversary. He’d forgotten their second anniversary.

Lando stood there, the note still clutched in his hand, his throat tightening as shame washed over him.

He thought back to the past few weeks, to the times he’d brushed you off or come home late without so much as an explanation.

He couldn’t even recall the last time you two spent real, quality time together.

You had tried to talk to him about it, about how you felt neglected, and he had dismissed your concerns every single time.

Now, standing there amidst the evidence of your effort and love, he felt like the worst boyfriend in the world.

Lando exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair as regret threatened to overwhelm him.

He couldn’t blame anyone but himself.

He glanced around the room, noticing how quiet it was. He knew you were asleep.

His eyes landed on his phone, dead from the night’s events.

With a heavy sigh, he plugged it into the charger, pacing nervously as he waited for it to turn back on.

When it finally lit up, the screen was flooded with notifications, missed calls and unread messages from Y/N.

The time stamps told the story of your evening:

“Hey, are you on your way?” - 8 p.m. “I’m waiting for you… everything’s ready.” -8:30 p.m. “Lando, please call me.” -9 p.m. “Are you okay? I’m starting to worry.” -10 p.m.

The last message was hours old, her tone shifting from hopeful to concerned.

Each notification felt like another jab to his heart, the guilt almost unbearable.

He dropped his phone onto the counter and made his way toward their shared bedroom.

Pushing the door open quietly, he stepped into the dimly lit room.

His gaze immediately found her curled up under the covers, her face half-buried in the pillow.

His breath hitched when he noticed the faint streaks on her cheeks, traces of tears she hadn’t been able to hide.

The sight made his heart clench painfully. She’d cried herself to sleep, and it was his fault.

Lando approached the bed slowly, kneeling beside her as he took in her tear-streaked face.

She looked so peaceful yet so vulnerable, her chest rising and falling softly with each breath.

Guilt swirled in his chest as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, thick with regret.

Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, lingering for a moment as if hoping it could somehow convey all the apologies he couldn’t say while she was awake.

His thumb grazed her cheek, and he sighed deeply.

“You didn’t deserve this,” he murmured, his voice breaking.

“I’ve been such an ass… the worst boyfriend. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I love you so much.”

She stirred slightly at his touch but didn’t wake.

Lando watched her for a moment longer before standing, his mind racing with plans to fix what he’d broken.

Tomorrow, he vowed, would be all about her.

The next morning, I woke up with a dull ache in my chest, my body heavy from the night before.

My eyes were sore and puffy from crying myself to sleep.

I glanced at the empty side of the bed, already prepared for the familiar sting of disappointment.

Figured he’d leave again before I woke up, I thought bitterly.

Dragging myself out of bed, I moved to the bathroom to freshen up.

The cold water on my face didn’t do much to wash away the exhaustion or the emotional weight from the previous night.

With a sigh, I tied my hair back and made my way downstairs, expecting another day of hurt to unfold.

Halfway down the stairs, though, something unusual stopped me in my tracks.

The smell of coffee, rich and inviting, wafted through the air.

There was another scent too, pancakes? My brow furrowed in confusion.

"That can’t be right. Lando doesn’t cook... does he? Who am i kidding he can't even boil eggs."

I cautiously descended the rest of the stairs, each step filling me with equal parts curiosity and hesitation.

As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I froze at the sight before me.

There he was, standing by the stove, flipping a pancake with a focused but slightly clumsy determination.

Plates of food lined the table, croissants, fresh fruit, juice, and what looked like store-bought pastries.

It didn’t take long to figure out most of the spread wasn’t homemade, but the effort was unmistakably his.

“Morning, love,” Lando greeted me, his tone soft and tentative, his lips curling into a nervous smile.

I raised an eyebrow, my arms crossing instinctively. “What’s all this?”

He put the spatula down and stepped closer, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel.

“It’s breakfast... and an apology,” he said, his voice earnest.

My eyes flickered between him and the spread on the table.

I could see he was trying, but the hurt from last night still lingered like a heavy cloud over my chest.

“Come sit,” he said gently, pulling a chair out for me.

I hesitated for a moment before sitting down, my arms still crossed defensively.

Lando grabbed a plate, placing a pancake in front of me before adding a small pile of fruit and a croissant on the side.

I eyed him suspiciously as he poured me a cup of coffee, then sat across from me.

“What are you doing, Lando?” I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of confusion and frustration.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he met my gaze.

“I messed up, Y/N. Big time. And I need you to know how sorry I am.” His voice was steady but filled with regret.

I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“Last night,” he began, his brows furrowing,

“I forgot our anniversary. I forgot the one day I should’ve been making you feel like the most important person in the world. And it’s not just last night, I’ve been neglecting you for weeks. You told me how you felt, and I brushed it off like an idiot.”

His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, and I could see the weight of his guilt etched into every line on his face.

“I’ve been selfish, caught up in my own world, and I didn’t see how much I was hurting you. You deserve so much better than that, Y/N. Better than me.”

I felt my throat tighten as his words sank in. The sincerity in his tone chipped away at the walls I’d put up.

“I was so hurt, Lando,” I said, my voice trembling.

“I waited for you all night. I planned everything because I thought… I thought you’d come home and we’d celebrate together. I stayed up, hoping you’d walk through that door with a smile, ready to tell me how much you love me. But you didn’t.”

Tears pricked my eyes as I continued.

“I saw that video of you and your friends. You were laughing and having fun while I sat here, alone, on what was supposed to be our night.”

Lando’s face fell, his hands gripping the edge of the table as if grounding himself from the weight of my words.

“I know,” he whispered.

“And I hate myself for it. Seeing what you did for me last night, the decorations, the food, the note. I realized just how much I’ve been taking you for granted. I never want you to feel that way again, Y/N. You’re the most important thing in my life. I need you to believe that.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, sliding it across the table to me.

“What’s this?” I asked, my voice softer now, though my heart still carried the sting of last night.

“Open it,” he urged.

I carefully lifted the lid, revealing a delicate necklace with a sparkling pendant.

The intricate design caught the morning light, making it shimmer.

“Lando…” I trailed off, overwhelmed.

“It’s not enough to make up for what I’ve done,” he said quickly,

“but it’s a start. And today, it’s all about you. Whatever you want to do, wherever you want to go, we’ll do it.”

I stared at the necklace for a moment before meeting his eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”

“But,” I added, my tone firm, “this doesn’t mean I’ve fully forgiven you yet.”

“I know,” he said, nodding.

“And I don’t expect you to. But I’ll spend every day proving to you how much I care, how much I love you. I won’t stop until you believe me again.”

The determination in his voice made my chest tighten.

I wanted to hold onto my anger, to make him feel the depth of my hurt, but seeing him now, vulnerable, regretful, and desperate to make things right.

I couldn’t help but feel the smallest crack in my resolve.

As the morning unfolded, Lando’s sincerity shone through.

He insisted on clearing the table and cleaning up, stealing small glances at me as if trying to gauge my mood.

I wasn’t ready to let go of all the hurt just yet, but for the first time in weeks, I felt a glimmer of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other.

The morning's heartfelt apology set the tone for what became one of the most memorable days Lando and I had spent together in weeks.

While I was still guarded, I couldn’t deny that he was trying, really trying, to make things right.

As I got ready to leave the house, he was already by my side, holding my hand, his other arm slung casually around my shoulder.

“I promised today would be all about you,” he said, giving me that signature soft smile.

“So, where to first?”

We started with a trip to the mall. At first, I felt a little awkward, hesitant to fully enjoy the experience.

But Lando was like a lovesick puppy, following me from store to store, holding my bags, and insisting I buy anything that caught my eye.

“Do you like this dress?” I asked, holding up a flowy sundress against myself.

“I love it,” he said without hesitation. “But I’d probably love anything on you.”

I rolled my eyes at his smooth comment but couldn’t help the blush creeping up my cheeks. “You’re just saying that.”

“Nope,” he replied, grabbing the dress and adding it to the pile of things he’d insisted on buying.

From clothes to accessories, he didn’t say no to anything.

When I protested, saying he was spending too much, he brushed it off.

“I’d spend everything on you, Y/N,” he said with such sincerity it made my heart ache.

Afterward, he took me to my favorite café for lunch.

The cozy little place was one we often went to in the early days of our relationship, and the nostalgia hit me hard as we sat down.

“I missed this,” I admitted as I sipped my coffee.

“Me too,” Lando said, reaching across the table to hold my hand.

“And I’m going to make sure we never lose this again.”

Next, he surprised me with a visit to a local pottery studio.

I couldn’t help but laugh when Lando struggled to shape a vase, the clay slipping through his fingers.

“Okay, you’re supposed to keep your hands steady,” I teased, leaning over to guide him.

“Oh, so now you’re an expert?” he joked, though his grin softened as I showed him how to shape the clay.

It was messy, chaotic, and perfect.

By the end, we both had clay smudged on our faces, and we were laughing like we hadn’t in weeks.

From there, we stopped at a flower shop.

Lando picked out the biggest bouquet of my favorite flowers, holding it out to me with a boyish grin.

“For you,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re really pulling out all the stops today, aren’t you?” I teased, though my heart swelled as I buried my nose in the fragrant blooms.

“Only the best for my girl,” he replied, his tone playful but his eyes serious.

For the rest of the day, he didn’t leave my side.

He held my hand as we walked through the streets, his arm draped protectively around me whenever we stopped to rest.

He peppered me with kisses at every opportunity; on my cheek, my forehead, my temple.

“You’re being extra clingy today,” I said with a small laugh as he pulled me into another hug.

“Making up for lost time,” he murmured, his chin resting on the top of my head.

Bit by bit, the walls I’d built around my heart began to crumble.

His efforts felt genuine, and I found myself smiling more easily, the hurt from the night before slowly fading into the background.

By the time we got home, the sun was setting, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and orange.

We were both tired but happy as we curled up on the couch together.

Lando tucked me under his arm, his fingers gently tracing patterns on my shoulder.

“Y/N,” he said after a long moment of silence.

His tone was serious, and I looked up at him curiously.

“Yeah?”

“I need to say this again because you deserve to hear it,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

“I’m so sorry for everything, for neglecting you, for forgetting our anniversary, for making you feel like you weren’t my priority. You are my priority, Y/N. You’re the best thing in my life, and I hate that I made you feel otherwise.”

His words hit me straight in the chest, and I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

“I know I hurt you,” he continued, his hand cupping my cheek as he looked into my eyes.

“But I swear, I’ll spend every day proving how much I love you. I’ll never let you feel like that again.”

My heart felt full as I reached up to hold his hand.

“You’ve done a lot for me today, Lando,” I said softly.

“And it’s helped. I can see how much you mean it.”

“So... does that mean you forgive me?” he asked, his tone hopeful but cautious.

I smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “Yeah, I forgive you.”

The relief on his face was almost comical, and he immediately began peppering my face with kisses, my cheeks, my forehead, my nose, even the corners of my lips.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he murmured between kisses, his joy infectious.

Just when I thought the day was over, Lando suddenly sat up.

“Wait, I have one last thing,” he said, standing and disappearing into the other room.

I frowned, confused, as he returned with a small envelope in hand.

“What is this?” I asked as he handed it to me.

“Open it,” he urged, a playful but nervous glint in his eyes.

I carefully tore open the envelope, and my breath caught as I pulled out two plane tickets.

My eyes widened as I read the destination: Maldives.

“Lando… are you serious?” I asked, my voice trembling with disbelief.

He grinned. “You’ve always said you wanted to go. So, I booked us a two-week stay. Just you and me. No distractions.”

Tears welled in my eyes as I looked at him, overwhelmed.

“You didn’t have to do this…”

“Yes, I did,” he said firmly, pulling me into his arms.

“I’ll do anything to make you happy, Y/N. Anything.”

I hugged him tightly, burying my face in his chest.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“I love you too,” I replied, my voice muffled but sincere.

We settled back into the couch, cuddled up together, the weight of the past few weeks finally lifting.

After a long silence, I broke it with a playful smile.

“If you ever neglect me like that again, I’m breaking up with your ass,” I teased.

Lando laughed, his arms tightening around me. “Fair enough. But don’t worry, I won’t. Not ever again.”

And for the first time in weeks, I believed him.

The end

[philosians]

little things | sylus.

✧. Sylus making your favorite drink and breakfast before he heads to bed, because you’re waking up and getting ready to head to work. Whether it be coffee or tea or matcha, he’ll make it. He does this regardless of how tired he is, especially after a business deal (or one gone wrong), because that routine he craves is also a reminder that you’re in his life and he gets to do domestic things like this when he comes home.

✧. Sylus who dries your hair after you shower because you’re too tired to. If you’re tired from work, he’ll take the towel and dry it before grabbing the hairdryer. Sometimes it’s a longer process than others, sometimes it’s not. What’s consistent with it though is that every time you end up falling asleep on him while he’s doing it.

✧. Sylus, who usually asks for his chef to do things, gradually transitions to using his kitchen himself because he finds enjoyment in cooking. More importantly—cooking with you. He finds himself indulging in cooking and baking, too. He finds himself filling with a bit of pride whenever you sink your teeth into one of the cupcakes he’s made and watches your eyes roll back in bliss from the sweet treat. And he can’t help but laugh under his breath at the icing all over your face once after you shoved the whole cupcake in your mouth when you thought he wasn’t looking.

✧. Sylus who ends up carrying your groceries into your apartment every LI does this prove me wrong with one hand and not breaking a sweat whenever he comes over and catches you post-shop. It pisses you off because it takes you at least two trips and a victory-dessert afterward. He shrugs it off like it’s nothing, but when he sees you scoff about it, he can’t help his amusement.

“Sorry, kitten. I’ll try a little harder next time.”

“Don’t. That’ll make me more mad.”

He raises his brows, chuckling. “If you say so.”

✧. Sylus is the one that takes you shopping for the first time with his card because you told him you had no idea where to even start with his black card aside from your favorite food stores. His eyes soften as you hide your embarrassment from him. But when he gently grabs your chin and tells you he’d be more than happy to help you make a dent in his bank account, he finds his own heart filling at the sight of your excitement.

✧. When you’re sick, Sylus drops all his business deals for the next week, potentially two depending on how your immune system works against your sickness. He’s in your apartment at the kitchen making food and making sure you’re taking medicine. He’s helping you through the worst of it with a warm cloth on your forehead; using his muscle to gently lift you up on the bed enough to help you eat some soups and drink hot liquid to soothe your throat and incessant coughing so your eyes aren’t watering from the soreness.

Sylus, who frowns in the other room every time he hears your deep and sickly coughs that you find embarrassing waking you from your needed sleep, ends up mentally praying to whatever deity that’s watching over you to make you better faster. Because he hates it when you’re sick; he can do nothing but watch as you teeter between health and illness, and he hates it.

When you’re better, he sees your teasing smile as you joke about how much he cares about you and him taking care of you over the last several days.

But it’s you who’s caught off-guard by him as he places a chaste kiss atop your head and says in the softest voice you’ve heard.

“Now why wouldn’t I take care of my most prized treasure?”

a/n: dusting off my ol’ writing chops hehe! I might do some with the other boys as well. feel free to send in ideas to my inbox! all LIs are welcome!

[brunchable]

Christmas Present | B. B.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x F! Reader Themes: Christmas Meet-Ugly, forced proximity, enemies-to-lovers(ish), rom-com Summary: You and Bucky are fighting over the last deluxe holiday gift set. The petty bickering escalates into a full-blown argument in front of shocked holiday shoppers, causing store security to intervene. As punishment, the frazzled guard handcuffs you together in the security office until you both "calm down." A/N : This oneshot is part of my 4K Follower christmas themed celebration. I hope you enjoy this first one! Thank you so much for reading my stories! Dividers by @saradika-graphics

It was supposed to be a quick trip. Grab the deluxe toy train set, pay, and leave. That was the plan. But life had other plans, and those plans came in the shape of a six-foot something man with a smirk as sharp as the jawline above it.

You reached for the last box on the shelf—your prize, your golden ticket, the sole reason you braved the chaos of twenty-third shoppers.

"Excuse me, I believe I was here first," you said sweetly, gripping the box.

"Excuse you, sweetheart," the man countered, one metal hand already gripping the other end of the box. "I had my eye on this before you decided to swoop in like some holiday vulture."

"Holiday vulture?!" you spat, yanking the box closer to your chest. "I don’t see your name on it, Terminator."

He raised an eyebrow, leaning in just enough to make you flinch. “Name’s Bucky, not Terminator. And I’d be happy to write it on the box for you... after I take it home.”

“Not happening,” you hissed, tugging harder. The box creaked ominously under the strain.

“Let go,” he growled.

“You let go!”

By now, a crowd of amused onlookers had formed, phones out, capturing every moment like a live-action reality show. One kid shouted, “Go lady! You’ve got this!” while a woman in a reindeer sweater whispered, “This is better than The Bachelor.”

“Look, lady,” Bucky said through gritted teeth, “I don’t want to ruin Christmas for you—”

“Oh, really? That’s what this feels like!”

“But my friend’s kid specifically asked for this,” he finished, as if that were a valid excuse.

You rolled your eyes. “Well, so did my niece. And unlike you, I didn’t wait until the last minute to shop.”

“Your cart’s full of candles!” he shot back, pointing to your precariously stacked haul.

You gasped, scandalized. “They’re scented candles and they make great gifts! Not that you’d understand.”

“I understand they’re not as hard to find as this!” he said, gesturing wildly to the now-doomed train set.

The tug-of-war escalated, your battle waging in the aisle of festive chaos. The crowd grew, complete with commentary.

“Bet five bucks on the lady!”

“Ten on the guy with the arm!”

And then—CRASH. The box tore clean down the middle, spilling its contents across the floor. Tiny train cars scattered like shrapnel, and a miniature conductor figure flew into a nearby stroller, making the baby cry.

Gasps echoed through the store as you and Bucky froze, still clutching your respective halves. Somewhere in the distance, someone yelled, “SANTA WOULDN’T APPROVE!”

A whistle cut through the air. “Alright, break it up, you two!”

You turned to find a middle-aged security guard glaring at you like an exhausted babysitter. His name tag read “Carl,” and he looked about one tantrum away from quitting.

“We were just—”

“I don’t care!” Carl snapped, his moustache twitching with barely contained rage. “Both of you. Security office. Now.”

The security office smelled like stale coffee and regret. You sat handcuffed to Bucky, who, despite his protests, looked far too comfortable with the situation.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered, yanking futilely on the cuffs. “We’re adults!”

“Debatable,” Carl deadpanned, sipping from his 'World’s Best Grandpa' mug. “You two are staying cuffed until you learn how to act like it.”

“I’m not a criminal!” you protested.

“Not what the footage shows,” Carl replied, spinning his chair to reveal the grainy security camera feed of you and Bucky mid-squabble. The freeze-frame of you squawking like a bird while clutching a toy train in a death grip was particularly unflattering.

“I’m offended on her behalf,” Bucky said with a smirk, leaning back in his chair.

“Oh, shut it,” you hissed, elbowing him.

“You’re the one who tore the box!”

“You’re the one with the metal arm. That thing’s basically a wrecking ball!”

Carl slammed his mug down. 

“Enough!” He massaged his temples like a teacher on their last day before retirement. “You’re staying here until I feel confident you won’t burn the store down.”

“Burn the store down?” you repeated, aghast, throwing your hands in the air as much as the cuffs allowed.

“Trust me, I’ve seen worse,” Carl muttered, eyeing both of you like feral raccoons fighting over a sandwich. With an exhausted sigh, he locked the door behind him and muttered something about “needing a damn coffee break,” leaving you and Bucky alone in the tiny, overheated room.

The silence that followed was so oppressive it felt like the room had shrunk. Only the faint, mocking jingle of Jingle Bells played faintly from the store’s speakers as you and Bucky sat shoulder-to-shoulder, stewing.

Bucky, apparently unable to sit still, started bouncing his knee—a rapid, relentless motion that made your entire chair vibrate like a washing machine on spin cycle.

“Stop that,” you snapped, glaring at him.

“Stop what?” he asked innocently, his knee bouncing harder.

“Your leg,” you hissed. “The whole chair is shaking! Are you trying to make me seasick?”

His lips twitched, clearly enjoying your misery. “It’s a free country.”

“Not for your knee, it’s not!”

“Well, maybe I wouldn’t be bouncing my knee if I wasn’t chained to someone with candle obsession issues,” he shot back.

“Oh, that’s rich coming from the guy who went full WWE over a toy train set!”

“You’re the one who tore it in half, lady!” he said, pointing accusingly.

“I was fighting for my family’s honor,” you retorted dramatically, crossing your arms as much as you could.

“You mean your candles.”

“It’s called being thoughtful, you Grinch impersonator!”

His knee bounced harder, and you grabbed his leg in desperation, making him pause. “Seriously, stop! I’m going to throw up, and then you’ll really regret this.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, alright, I’ll stop. But only because you look like you might actually hurl, and I don’t need Carl coming back and cuffing me to the radiator this time.”

“So,” Bucky continued after a beat of silence, “Do you always fight strangers over train sets, or is today special?”

You glared at him. “Do you always shop last minute and ruin people’s holidays, or is that your side gig?”

He snorted. “Ruining holidays? That’s harsh. I’m saving them.”

“By what? Sabotaging shoppers?”

“By making sure my best friend’s kid gets the one thing he asked for,” Bucky replied, voice softening slightly.

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity. 

“Okay, that’s… kind of sweet,” you admitted reluctantly.

“What about you?” he asked. “Candles for everyone?”

“No,” you mumbled. “The train set was for my niece. She’s… had a tough year.”

Bucky nodded, silence enveloping the two of you yet again, the tinny chorus of Frosty the Snowman blared overhead, and the absurdity of your situation finally hit you. You started giggling, and to your surprise, so did he.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, still grinning.

“This,” you said between laughs. “This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever been part of.”

“Right,” he agreed, laughing harder.

For the first time since being forced to sit there, you weren’t arguing. Well, unless you counted arguing about whose laugh was uglier.

Carl finally returned, jangling the keys like a janitor who had seen too much. His Santa hat was slightly askew, and his mustache twitched with a mix of frustration and exhaustion. He looked like someone’s adorable grandpa who had just been told the grandkids set fire to the Christmas tree.

“Alright, you two,” he grumbled, unlocking the cuffs. “You’re free. But before you go…”

He planted his hands on his hips, his gut straining against his red vest, and glared at you like you’d just stolen cookies from the jar. 

“I’ve been doing this job for fifteen years, and let me tell you, I’ve seen a lot of nonsense. But this—” he waved a hand between you and Bucky “—takes the fruitcake. Grown adults fighting over a toy train set like it’s the last turkey on Earth? Really?”

You started to open your mouth to argue, but Carl cut you off with a stern wag of his finger.

“No, no. Don’t even try to explain. You’re both guilty. Guilty of being Christmas disasters. And you…” he pointed at Bucky, his stubby finger trembling with indignation. “You’re what? Pushing 40? Shouldn’t you know better?”

That’s when Bucky’s lips twitched. And twitched again. And suddenly, he was laughing. Not just chuckling—a full-on, shoulder-shaking laugh that echoed through the tiny room.

Carl’s mustache twitched in annoyance. “What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky said between gasps for air, “but… I’m being lectured by someone who looks like Santa’s understudy.” He wiped a tear from his eye. “You’re like a cute little Christmas elf—just missing the pointy shoes.”

Carl’s face turned as red as his vest. “I am not cute!” he barked.

“You kinda are,” Bucky said, grinning.

You smacked his arm. “Stop antagonizing him!”

But even you couldn’t suppress a giggle as Carl threw his hands in the air. “You know what? I’m done. Get out. Both of you. Before I call other mall security and have you escorted out by the Grinch Squad.”

Bucky saluted dramatically. “Merry Christmas, Carl!”

Carl muttered something about needing a stiff eggnog and waddled back to his desk, leaving you and Bucky to stumble out of the security office.

“Well, that was fun,” you deadpanned, starting to walk away, only to stop when Bucky called out.

“Wait! Hey!”

You turned, eyebrows raised. “What? Did you leave your dignity back there?”

He ignored the jab, shoving his hands into his pockets. For the first time since the ordeal started, he actually looked... awkward.

“I, uh… was just wondering what you’re doing after this.”

You blinked at him, genuinely caught off guard. “What am I doing? Are you serious?”

“Yeah, serious,” he said with a little shrug, his smirk less cocky and more boyish now. “You’re, uh… funny. And kind of cute, when you’re not threatening to strangle me over toy trains.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed. 

“This—” you gestured dramatically between you both “—is the foundation of your flirting strategy? Chaos, insults, and shared custody of a train set?”

“Worked, didn’t it?” he teased, grinning now.

You huffed, crossing your arms. “I just spent an hour handcuffed to you while debating whether or not to throw you out a window, and now you want to… hang out?”

“Why not?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, like this was the most reasonable suggestion in the world.

“Because this is ridiculous!” you exclaimed. “I barely know you, we’re still enemies by all accounts, and—”

“You haven’t said no,” he interrupted, cutting you off with a pointed look.

You opened your mouth to argue, but nothing came out. Damn him and his stupid smirk.

Finally, you sighed, half-laughing at the sheer absurdity. “Fine. But if this turns into another wrestling match over a menu, I’m walking out.”

“Sure,” he said, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “Whatever you want.”

As you both walked out of the office areas and back to the mall, you muttered under your breath, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Believe it, sweetheart,” he said, falling into step beside you. “And next time? Maybe we’ll skip the handcuffs… unless you’re into that.”

You glared at him, but the corners of your mouth betrayed you, curving into an unwilling smile. Maybe chaos wasn’t such a bad foundation after all.

The morning sunlight streamed through the curtains, illuminating the room as Bucky groggily reached for the remote. Still half-asleep, he flicked on the TV, more out of habit than interest. The morning show’s upbeat jingle played, and he squinted at the screen, his brain catching up to the cheerful voices of the two hosts.

“—and now, for what might be the most hilarious Christmas shopping moment caught on camera!” the female host announced, barely suppressing her laughter.

Her co-host, a grinning man in a Santa tie, chimed in, “Oh, this is a good one. Forget Hallmark—this is real-life rom-com material, folks. Roll the clip!”

Bucky froze mid-stretch as the screen transitioned to shaky footage of himself and you, locked in a dramatic tug-of-war over the train set in the middle of the toy aisle. The commentary from the crowd was clear as day.

“Go lady! You’ve got this!”

“Ten bucks on the guy with the metal arm!”

“Oh, no,” Bucky muttered, sitting up straighter, dread pooling in his stomach.

The video jumped to the box tearing in half, scattering train pieces like confetti, followed by the baby wailing and someone shouting, “SANTA WOULDN’T APPROVE!”

The hosts erupted into laughter.

“Okay, okay,” the woman said, wiping a tear from her eye. “I’m calling it now—this is the meet-cute of the decade. I can hear the Hallmark writers typing this into a script.”

Her co-host nodded vigorously. “Absolutely. Two strangers, both fighting for the same toy on the eve of Christmas eve—classic enemies-to-lovers setup.”

They both howled with laughter as the clip transitioned to grainy security footage of you and Bucky cuffed together, bickering like an old married couple.

“And this is where the movie writes itself,” the man said, pointing to the screen. “They’re forced to spend time together, cuffed in the security office. Sparks fly. Cue the heartwarming ending!”

The woman leaned toward the camera, her expression conspiratorial. “So, the real question is… did they exchange numbers? Did they get coffee? Did they—”

Bucky groaned and buried his face in his hands as his phone buzzed on the nightstand. He grabbed it, flipping it over to see a message from Sam:

Sam: Congratulations, you’re famous. 

A second message immediately followed:

Sam: Also, what happened next? Don’t leave me hanging! Did you at least get her number?

Bucky tossed his phone onto the bed with a groan, only for it to buzz again. This time it was Steve:

Steve: They’re right. This does sound like the start of a love story. Please tell me you didn’t blow it.

“Unbelievable,” Bucky muttered, scrubbing a hand down his face as the TV hosts continued speculating.

“What do we think, folks?” the male host asked, gesturing dramatically. “Should we start a Twitter campaign to find out what happened next? I need closure!”

“Absolutely!” the female host replied. “If you’re watching this, toy train couple, please—reach out. America is invested.”

“I’m never leaving the house again.” Bucky groaned louder, sinking into the pillows. 

His phone buzzed again.

Sam: Famous AND trending. Look at you.

Bucky grabbed a pillow and smothered his face with it, his muffled voice barely audible: “I hate Christmas.”

He sighed and shifted, his pillow falling to the floor—he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head, his irritation melted away as he looked to his right, where your figure was still peacefully curled under the covers. Your hair was a mess from the night before, your cheek pressed against the pillow in a way that made you look adorably innocent—though Bucky distinctly remembered you weren’t so innocent a few hours ago.

A small, satisfied smirk tugged at his lips. He let out a breath, shaking his head as he muttered to himself, “Actually. . . Maybe I don’t hate it too much.”

tags: @lomlbuckybarnes @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @winterslove1917 @hzdhrtss @mostlymarvelgirl

@missvelvetsstuff @unaxv @carnal-vogue @bmyva1entine @wheredidiputmyfish

@thereoncewasagirlnamedjane @wanda-widow @filmologetica @awaywithtime @Thealyrs

@greatenthusiasttidalwave @winchestert101 @strawberrybisou @unaxv @asgards-princess-of-mischief

@fynnwolff @Janonymus0 @veronicapaula

[nomie-11]

Last Call Home

masterlist! | read part 2 here!

synopsis: you had promised years ago that when Vi went to university, you would stay back and take care of Powder and tuition until she graduated. You just didn't understand the toll it would take on yourself.

pairings: vi x reader, powder is lowkey reader's adoptive daughter

“Hey, it’s Vi. Just wanted to call and let you know that I love you and I miss you, and I know I promised I’d be home for the weekend, but Cait needed me for a lab her and Jayce were working on. I promise I’ll come visit you and Pow soon. Happy Valentine's Day, baby.”

—phone call from Vi to Y/n, February 14th, 11:36 p.m.

—————————

Working at The Last Drop wasn’t where you had seen yourself in the long run. When your senior year homeroom teacher had asked you where you wanted to be in the next five years, you would have said university, maybe a job in a field you fell in love with, an apartment with Vi that has a balcony and a nice view.

Not living in the same city in the same dingy apartment since graduation, no college degree and a stagnant job at a bar no one came too unless college was on break. 

But that was you, at the ripe age of twenty two. 

Trudging home after a long shift at the bar, but you had work to get done, things to do before tomorrow. Laundry, bills, maybe dinner if there was enough in the fridge for Powder to eat for the next three days until you got paid and could go food shopping. 

The door to your apartment pushed open with a soft click, the scent of the cheap countertop cleaner you bought immediately assaulting your nose. 

“Hey,” Powder said, not looking up from her seat on the floor by the coffee table. She was doing the art assignment her (ridiculously expensive) therapist had told her to do. 

“Hey baby,” you said, forcing a smile onto your face as you kicked off your work boots and sat heavily onto the couch. “How was school?”

She glanced up at you, her soft, violet blue eyes giving you a one over before she answered. 

“It was good,” she nodded. 

You nodded back, draping an arm over your eyes as you stared up at the ceiling. It was unfair to Powder, and you knew it, but ever since her and Vi’s dad had keeled over and died of a heart attack four years ago, and Vi left for school the year after, you were all she had left. 

“Good.”

————————————

“Fuck, I totally forgot that tomorrow is Powder’s art showcase. I know I promised I’d be back home for it, but finals are next week and I really need to study. Just… send me photos of it, ok? I just want to see her. She’s getting so big. I’m sorry again, Y/n. I miss you.”

——phone call from Vi to Y/n, March 4th, 1:47 p.m.

———————————

Mornings started early. You never had time to make Powder's lunch when you got home from work, so you woke up before dawn to make her breakfast and something somewhat nutritious to eat. The last time you actually had enough money to take her to a family doctor, the only comment they had was that you must have been starving her with how underweight she was. 

You hated the implication, hated yourself more for not being able to prove them wrong. Powder deserved better. You didn’t even bother with breakfast for yourself anymore—not since the last time you stepped on the scale and realized your clothes were fitting tighter than they used to. Some days you told yourself it was just muscle from hauling kegs and scrubbing down the bar; other days you knew better, people aren’t meant to live off of cheap frozen meals and energy drinks. 

You shoved a granola bar and an overripe apple into Powder’s bag, watching her from the corner of your eye as she meticulously folded her art supplies into a second-hand tote you had re-sewn more time than you can count. Her hands moved with care, but there was a tension in her shoulders that weighed too heavy for a thirteen year old. She wasn’t even your sister, you were her sister's girlfriend by relationship, but she might as well have been your daughter at this point. 

She caught you looking, and her soft frown deepened. 

“You don’t have to keep doing this,” she murmured. 

“Doing what?” You asked, tying the handles of her lunch bag into a bow as casually as you could. 

“Pretending everything’s okay.” Powder’s words were quiet, but they struck you like a fist. 

You didn’t answer, just slid her bag over the counter to her and kissed the top of her hair. “Have a good day at school, baby,” you whispered, even as the lump in your throat threatened to consume you. 

——————————

“I finally booked train tickets for May, so I’ll be home for two weeks before I have to go on that research trip. Maybe we can plan a day, just me, you, and Powder? We can go to that art museum she loves—tickets are free for under eighteen, I’m sure we can still pass as high schoolers. Sound good? School is really kicking my ass. I just want to come home.”

——phone call from Vi to Y/n, April 24th, 11:23 a.m.

—————

A part of you wasn’t ready to see Vi. 

It wasn’t anger or resentment—not entirely. It was something deeper, heavier. A dull ache that grew each time her name lit up your phone, her voice brimming with excuses that always sounded too reasonable to argue with. You hated how your heart still jumped at the sound of her voice, how it softened just a little each time that she said she missed you. You hated that a part of you believed her. 

You glanced at Powder’s latest painting propped up against the wall by the coffee table. It was a tangled mess of blues and reds, dark shadows streaking through what looked like broken glass. It was beautiful, haunting even, but it wasn’t a pre-teen’s painting. It was too raw, too heavy. 

Powder was supposed to be excited about Vi’s visit. She’d circled the date on the calendar in her favorite bright pink pen, but now you weren’t so sure. She didn’t talk about her sister much anymore, and when she did, it was only in passing. 

The sound of her footsteps pulled you out of your thoughts. She wandered into the living room, still in her pajamas, her hair a long mess waiting for you to braid it carefully. “Is she really coming this time?” 

You sighed, unsure how to answer. “She says she is. She booked the tickets.”

Powder sat on the couch, curling into herself as she hugged a pillow to her chest. “She always says that.”

You didn’t have the heart to argue. She was right. 

—————

“I’m on the train now! Can’t wait to see you. I know I’ve been gone too long, but I’m gonna make it up to you and Pow. I swear. I brought her those paint sets she’s been wanting. Love you.” 

—phone call from Vi to Y/n, May 5th, 3:13 p.m.

—————

You heard her before you saw her—the creak of the apartment door, her familiar laugh as she stumbled inside carrying her overstuffed duffle bag. Powder froze beside you on the couch, her pencil hovering mid-stroke over her sketchbook. 

“Hey! I’m home!” Vi’s voice was warm, teasing, like she hadn’t been gone for months. 

You stood slowly, your heart pounding in your chest as Vi rounded the corner, her eyes lighting up when they met yours. “There’s my girl,” she said softly, dropping her bag and pulling you into her arms. She smelled the same—like leather and lavender, and the faint scent of cigarette smoke that lingered from the months before she quit. You wanted to melt into her, but something held you back. 

Powder didn’t move from the couch. She stared at Vi, her face unreadable. “You’re late,” she said quietly. 

Vi’s smile faltered. “I know, Pow. I’m sorry. The train—”

“Doesn’t matter.” Powder stood, brushing past her sister without another word and disappearing into her room. 

Vi’s shoulders sagged. “She hates me, doesn’t she?” 

You shook your head, forcing a small smile. “She doesn’t hate you. She just doesn’t know how to trust you anymore.” 

Vi winced, her hands finding your waist as she looked at you with familiar, guilty eyes. “Do you still trust me?” 

Your throat tightened. You wanted to say yes, wanted to believe it was true. But trust wasn’t built on promise—it was built on presence. “I don’t know,” you whispered. 

And for the first time since you met her twelve years ago, Vi didn’t have a comeback. 

—————

“Pow’s still mad, isn’t she? I don’t blame her, but it sucks. I’m trying, Y/n. I swear I’m trying. I just… didn’t think everything would be so different. Anyway, tomorrow’s our museum day, right? I’ve been looking forward to it all week. I want it to be perfect. I’ll make it up to the both of you, I promise.” 

—phone call from Vi to Y/n, May 7th, 9:42 p.m.

—————

The museum was quieter than usual, the midday crowd sparse except for a few families and a group of art students sketching by a massive installation in the lobby. Powder walked a few steps ahead of you and Vi, her eyes scanning the walls, taking in every piece like she was cataloging them in her mind. 

Vi tried to catch up with her, her usual playful energy bubbling to the surface. “Hey, Pow, wait up!”

Powder didn’t slow down. She stopped in front of a painting—abstract, full of swirling colors and chaotic lines. “This one’s new,” she said, her voice distant. 

Vi stepped closer, her gaze flickering between Powder and the painting. “It’s cool. What do you think it’s about?” 

Powder shrugged, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “Maybe it’s about someone trying to fix something, but they keep messing it up instead.” 

Vi flinched, but you placed a gentle hand on her arm before she could respond. “It’s beautiful, Pow,” you said softly. 

Powder glanced at you, her expression softening just a little. “Yeah. I guess.” 

Vi stayed quiet after that, no attempts to joke or lighten the mood. You could tell she felt out of place, like a guest in her little sister and her girlfriend’s lives. 

Lunch was better—Powder perked up when she was able to order a large side of fries instead of splitting a small with you, and Vi managed to coax a small smile out of her when the three of you went out for ice cream after, and Vi shelled out the extra twenty five cents for rainbow sprinkles on top. But the weight between them lingered, a silent reminder that some things couldn’t be fixed in a single day. 

—————

“Hey, it’s me. Just wanted to say I’ll wait up for you tonight, okay? I know you’ve been working late, but I want to spend some time with you. Maybe we can talk. Love you, Y/n.” 

—phone call from Vi to Y/n, May 9th, 7:12 p.m.

—————

You came home long past midnight, your body aching from another double shift. The sound of the TV murmuring in the background greeted you as you pushed the door open, and there was Vi, sprawled out on the ouch, half-asleep but still waiting for you. 

“Hey,” she mumbled, sitting up as you dropped your bag and kicked off your worn shoes. “You look exhausted.” 

“I am,” you said simply, your voice flat. 

Vi frowned, her eyes scanning you more closely now. She took in the dark circles under your eyes, the way your shoulders slumped, the stains on your work uniform no amount of scrubbing could get out, the strain on the clothes you couldn’t afford to replace. Her gaze drifted to the pile of unopened bills on the kitchen counter, the worn-out sneakers by the door, the way Powder’s bedroom light was still on because she refused to sleep unless she was sure you were home. 

“Y/n…” Vi started, her voice low and uncertain. 

“What?” you asked, dropping heavily onto the couch beside her. 

“I didn’t realize…” She gestured vaguely around the apartment. “All of this. How much you’re doing. For Pow, for—everything.” 

You laughed, but there was no humor in it. “What did you think I was doing while you were at school, Vi? Sitting around waiting for you to come back?”

Her face fell, guilt washing over her. “No, I just—”

“You didn’t notice,” you interrupted, your voice sharp. “Because you weren’t here.” 

Vi looked away, her jaw tight. “I’m here now.” 

“Yeah,” you said bitterly. “For two weeks. And then you’re gone again, off to some research trip or lab or whatever else is more important than being home for Powder’s fourteenth birthday and her next art showcase and all of her other achievements.” 

Silence settled between you, heavy and suffocating. Vi reached for your hand, her touch tentative. “I know I’ve screwed up,” she said quietly. “And I know I can’t fix it in two weeks, but I want to try. Please, Y/n, let me try.” 

You wanted to believe her, but the exhaustion in your bones made it hard to hope. Pulling your hand away as you stood, you couldn't bear to look at her. “I’m going to bed.” 

Vi stayed on the couch long after you disappeared into the bedroom, the weight of her absence these past years settling over her like a heavy blanket. For the first time, she truly saw the cracks in the life she’d left behind—and the toll they’d taken on the people who’d given her the means to leave. 

—————

“Hey, Cait. It’s me. Look, I’ve been thinking, and I know it’s a big ask, but… is that offer for the spare apartment still on the table? It’s just—things here are worse than I thought. Y/n is working herself to death, and Powder’s not doing great. I want to bring them to Piltover. They deserve better than this. 

I swear, I’ll make it work. I’ll get a part-time job, and once we graduate, I’ll pay you back for everything. I just need to know if it’s okay, if you’re okay with it. They’re—well, they’re  my everything, Cait. I can’t keep leaving them like this. Let me know, okay? Thanks. For everything.” 

—phone call from Vi to Caitlyn Kiramman, May 9th, 11:37 p.m.

—————

The restaurant wasn’t fancy by Piltover standards, but it was leagues above the dingy diners you frequented when you had enough saved up to get Powder a vanilla milkshake and a burger. The dim lighting made the worn wooden tables look almost elegant, and the scent of freshly baked bread and sizzling garlic filled the air. Powder’s eyes were wide as she took it all in, her sketchbook clenched tightly in her hands like she wasn’t sure what to do with it.

Vi had insisted on treating the two of you, though you weren’t sure where she’d gotten the money. “A friend helped out,” she’d said with a sheepish grin, waving off your questions. 

The meal was nice—better than nice, really. Powder had polished off a plate of pasta bigger than her head, and Vi hadn’t stopped smiling since you walked in. But when the plates were cleared and the check paid, Vi leaned forward, her expression turning serious. 

“I need to talk to you both about something,” she said, her voice steady but soft. 

You raised an eyebrow, glancing at Powder, who was busy doodling on a napkin. “What’s going on?” 

Vi took a deep breath. “I want you both to come to Piltover with me.” 

Your stomach dropped. “What?” 

“I talked to Caitlyn,” Vi continued, her gaze fixed on yours. “She has a spare apartment, and she said we can stay there. Rent-free. She’s even willing to cover Powder’s school and therapy until I can get a good enough job to take care of it myself. And you can enroll in community college until I graduate and transfer to Piltover University. A fresh start for the both of you.” 

Your head was spinning. “Vi, that’s… that’s huge. We can’t just pack up and leave. What about Powder’s school? She can’t handle transferring in the middle of the year. Finding a new therapist she trusts? My job?”

“I know it’s a lot,” Vi said quickly, her hand reaching for yours. “But Caitlyn’s family is crazy rich, and she said she can help with everything. We’ll find Powder a new school with a great art program, a new therapist to help with her BPD, whatever she needs. And you won’t have to work like this anymore, Y/n. You can focus on what you want to do, not just surviving.” 

Powder looked up from her drawing, her eyes wide. “You want us to move to Piltover?” 

“Yeah, Pow,” Vi said gently. “I know it’s scary, but I think it would be really good for you. For us.” 

You pulled your hands back, shaking your head. “This is too much, Vi. What if it doesn’t work out? What if we can’t—”

“It will work,” VI interrupted, her voice firm but pleading. “I’ll make sure of it. I’m not asking you to trust Caitlyn or her family. Just trust me. I’ve got you.” 

Silence hung between you, heavy with unspoken fears. Powder’s gaze flickered between the two of you, her expression uncertain but curious with the hope of a future you wished you could provide but would never be able to afford on your own. 

“I don’t know,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I need time to think about it.” 

“Take all the time you need,” Vi said, her tone softening. “But just… think about it, okay? You can’t keep up like this.” 

You nodded, but the weight of the decision settled in your chest like a stone. Vi’s words made sense, but they didn’t erase the fear gnawing at you. This might have been miserable, but this was home. 

—————

“Do you think Powder will hate me for leaving again? I don’t want to go.” 

—phone call from Vi to Y/n, May 15th, 2:54 p.m.

—————

The train station was as dreary as you remembered it being the first time Vi left. The cold concreted floors and harsh fluorescent lights did nothing to make the moment any easier. Powder clung to Vi’s waist like her life depended on it, her sobs muffled against the soft leather of her sister’s favorite jacket. 

“Hey, Pow,” Vi said softly, brushing a hand through her hair. “You’ve gotta let go, okay? I promise I’ll come back. You’ll see me again soon.” 

Powder shook her head, her tears soaking into Vi’s clothes. “Please, Violet! I don’t want you to go!” she choked out, calling her older sister by her full name. 

You stood a few steps away, arms crossed tightly over your chest, trying to keep it together. But when Vi turned to you, her eyes shining with unshed tears, your resolve cracked.

“You’ll take care of her, right?” Vi asked, her voice breaking just a little. 

“Always,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. 

Vi stepped forward and pulled you into a tight hug, Powder squeezed between the two of you. “I love you,” she murmured against your lips. “Both of you.” 

“I love you too,” you said, your voice barely audible as you buried your face in her shoulder. 

The train whistle blew, loud and piercing, signaling the last boarding call. Vi pulled back reluctantly, kneeling to press a kiss to Powder’s forehead, and then standing to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “I’ll call as soon as I get back to my apartment,” she promised, her voice trembling. 

Powder reached for her again, but you gently pried her hands away, lifting her up as if she was still the nine year old girl watching her sister leave for the first time. She wrapped herself around like she had when she was younger, her legs around your waist and her arms clinging to your neck as if letting go would make everything fall apart. 

Vi hesitated on the platform, her eyes fixed on the two of you until the last second. Then she turned and boarded the train, disappearing through the doors. 

You and Powder stood there as the train pulled away, her sobs shaking against your chest. Watching Vi go felt like losing her all over again, and you couldn’t stop the tears that slipped down your cheeks. 

“It’s okay, baby,” you whispered as you held her tight against your chest as if she was a backpack you had strapped to your front. “We’ll be okay. Let’s go home.” 

But even as you said it, you weren’t sure if you believed it. 

The walk back to the apartment was long and heavy, Powder’s weight in your arms a reminder of how young she still was despite everything she’d been through. Her sobs quieted eventually, but she didn’t let go, her face buried against your neck like she was trying to hide from the world. 

When you finally made it home, the apartment felt emptier than it ever had before. 

—————

“Hey, Vi. It’s Y/n. I know you’re probably in a lab right now, but I just dropped off Powder at school. I quit my job on an impulse last night, I couldn’t handle it anymore. I can’t do this anymore. I miss you, and I just— I think we’ll do it. I think we’ll move to Piltover.” 

—phone call from Y/n to Vi, June 1st, 8:02 a.m.

Read part 2 here!

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

[sheep-from-rad]

Imagines: Batfam x Social Media Handler! Reader pt. II

Note: This is a random idea. I also had coffee and I’m now allowed to have coffee because it makes me throw up sometimes. Well, i’ll get on that later but right now let me publish is mini idea Original: Batfam x Social Media handler! reader Masterlist

After coming back from a good two months of annual Wayne paid vacation, you were immediately greeted by a salary raise, a few more tasks added on your weekly routine, an access to the liquor cabinets and a private therapy. 

One of the new tasks added to your weekly routine is playing fan made games. No, not those games made by big companies but those fanmade itch io dating games. It was Stephanie’s idea, she said that it’s a good idea to keep track of fan’s headcanons and see if a thing is too close to their real identity. The rest of the family shrugged at the idea but now you have a throwaway account for all those games in case you need to sign in and a smaller bank account for paid DLCs. 

Unfortunately, from one to two games a week, you now have to review double the amount because Nightwing accidentally quoted a word for word line from one of the dating games during his patrol. Their idols playing their fan made game= happy fans. Happy fans= more games made. More games made=more stuff for you to review. You now record the gameplay as well and you send it to them during their downtimes to share whatever cringe you come across with. 

Reading fanfics also got added to your weekly routine. The Batfam usually just ignore fanfics most of the time until that one Damian Wayne x reader fanfic got viral in the media. The plot is good really, it’s a fake dating turned real dating  AU where Damian blends in the society with fellow vigilante reader by masquerading as lovers at day. It was good but it almost blew his cover as Robin when hardcore readers started following Damian during school time and then following his other persona during patrols. Damian had to exchange patrol schedules with Tim for a week because of the thing. The fanfic reading is a rare task though because Jason already reads most of it during his breaks. 

The pay raise wasn’t just because of the new tasks added to your job, it was also a compensation for every horror you have witnessed and will be witnessing while handling DMs. Handling creepy/flirty DMs is normal given that you’re the first person that will always read them but you forgot the fact that handling DMs means also opening the private and public accounts at 4 a.m. in the morning and suddenly being greeted by nudes. Kate made a good suggestion for Alfred to give you an access to the liquor cabinet because sometimes coffee is really not strong enough. 

Speaking of handling public account DMs, handling Bruce’s public account is like reading the gossip page of the newspaper every morning. His DMs can be sorted to three things: Business related messages (which you redirects to Lucius Fox), party and social gathering invitations, and of course, nudes and ex-flings claiming that Bruce is their kid’s father (and occasional threats that they will ruin Bruce’s reputation if they don’t pay child support or take them back as a romantic partner). Most of the Friday reports are just you making appointments for paternity testings. Of course, how can you forget? You can’t handle Bruce’s DMs around the Batkids. The last time it happened, Jason took control of the account, and posted embarrassing pictures on the business page.

[nineteenninety-six]

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝ Midnight Coffee

Pairing: John Shen x wife!doctor!Reader

AN: This is for all my Dr Shen truthers out there! Reader works in the morgue and is a doctor but I'm totally clueless about the nitty-gritty details so I left it vague. I did want to expand and write more but I was desperate to post this.

WC: 839

Warnings: Hospital inaccuracies, mentions on dead bodies and the results of Pittfest.

Synopsis: You take a much needed breather with your husband.

You were used to death. It was your job. Day in day out you saw and worked with death but today took a lot from you. The sheer amount of people who died brutally and scared for no other reason other than the selfish actions of a man.

You were drowning in the morgue, it was non stop for hours for you and your colleague, David, your turn that night after the ED and surgery had their chaos earlier that evening. There was a lull, a brief respite where you should relax back into a chair, close your eyes to relieve them from the strain and flex and rest your aching hands.

David watches you from their position across the table, they had arrived much later than you did and so you did a lot of work alone, which was something you did often enough but today was not an ordinary day.

"Take a breather" David tells you, "Fifteen-twenty minutes. Get a coffee and some fresh air."

You considered saying no but you honestly knew that you needed a break and so you nod, murmuring a 'thank you' as you push yourself up with a soft groan.

You grab yourself some shitty staffroom coffee before you walk to the ambulance bay and lift yourself up on the brick wall, letting your feet dangle freely. You smile as the cool breeze washes over you, it was stuffy in the morgue so this was a blessing.

Your smile quickly drops once you sip your shitty coffee.

"Hey"

You look over your shoulder and smile at the sight of your husband approaching you with an iced coffee and his hoodie.

"You're a sight for sore eyes" The sweet smile on your face is the one that is reserved only for your husband.

"Yeah?" John hands you the dunkin' iced coffee as he stands between your spread legs. "I hope you're always happy to see me."

"I am." You hum around your straw before the warmth of his hoodie envelopes you making you shiver in pleasure,"But with today... I really am glad to see your face."

John places his hands on your thighs, giving them a squeeze as he hums in agreement, "How long do you have?"

"Ten, maybe fifteen minutes" You check your watch, "You?"

"Ellis will come running if I'm needed"

"Not very attending like behaviour Dr Shen" You tease, "I'm telling Gloria first thing."

"Maybe she'll fire me and I can finally become a house husband."

"Not with that attending money you're making you're not" You scoff.

"So you're telling me you only married me for my money" John jokes.

"Yeah" You laugh, "Let's just forget the last ten years we've spent together and the fact you only became an attending three months ago."

"Can't believe we've been together for ten years" John pressed closer to you," How many more will you put up with me for?"

You wrap your arms around his neck, "At least for another five years but honestly... forever. I want to be by your side forever."

John pulls you into a soft but passionate kiss, pulling you deeper in love with him.

"And what about becoming Dr Shen?" John asks .

"I'm already married to you, you don't have to beg me anymore."

John laughs "First of all, I did not beg you. If I remember correctly, you enthusiastically said yes. Screamed it even. Besides, you know what I'm talking about."

"Sorry babe" You pull back slightly so you can look him in the eye. "I like my last name plenty enough and there's only enough space for one Dr Shen in this hospital."

"Is that a compliment?"

"I don't know, you tell me."

John rolls his eyes at your non-answer but this was a common light hearted back and forth between you, it was just a form of teasing and flirting for you two.

Your watch buzzes signalling the end of your break and you sign disappointedly. You took a couple more desperate mouthfuls of the iced coffee before returning it to John, not being allowed to bring a drink down to the morgue, along with his jumper before jumping off of the brick ledge you perched yourself on.

"Alright, I've got to go but I'll see you at the end of the shift."

"You think you'll be done by then?" John asks as he walks you to the elevator.

You shrugged, "No clue but Gloria has already given so much overtime tonight, I hardly doubt she will allow or approve anymore lest we lose ten nurses in return."

As the elevator reached their floor, you pulled John in a grounding comforting hug that will help you power through the rest of your day.

"I love you," You murmured into his chest, "So much."

"I love you too" John presses a soft kiss to your lips, "More than you can imagine."

You step away and into the elevator, pressing your floor and you wave at John until the doors close in front of you.

[earlysunshines]

clay hearts

danielle marsh x fem!reader ; fluff

synopsis: you've been working on a bunch of pottery for two hours, danielle thinks you need a break.

warnings: none just lots of kissing maybe ;ceramicist!reader ; they're disgustingly in love ; soooo in love ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread

a/n: guys i am so delusional and in love with danielle marsh that whole pottery ep actually killed me she's so cute i need to be restrained.

in the little corner of your apartment, right next to the window that lets the sun shine on your features, you’re throwing another glob of clay only your wheel. it’s been fifteen minutes since you started, and you’ve successfully made one cup. one. 

you huff, ready to work on at least two more cups before you move onto some bigger pieces. 

before you can start on the next, you hear the door creaking open. you turn your head and see your girlfriend closing the door behind her. you smile immediately. 

“danielle,” you greet softly, fondly. “i missed you.”

her eyes light up when she sees you sitting by the pottery wheel. her footsteps are soft as she walks towards you, smiling and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“hey, you,” she murmurs, brushing a bit of clay from oyur eyebrow. “missed you more.”

“no way.”

“yes way.” she giggles. “i’ll let you get back to work, i have some of my own to tackle.”

you hum in response, leaving her to whatever is on her to-do list. 

—

hours slip by in quiet focus. you lose yourself in shaping the clay, unaware of just how much time has passed by as you made three cups, a plate, and a small vase. there’s the occasional groan or curse that slips from your lips as you tackle the stubborn pieces that refuse to cooperate. 

about an hour in, danielle had settled herself at the small beanbag near the coffee table, quietly working on her assignments with her laptop perched on her lap. she’s close enough to be company but far enough to let you work. 

you glimpse at danielle here and there in between each piece, happy to have her close to you. and she’s doing the same, stealing glances at you every few minutes, watching the way your brows furrow as you concentrate, the way your fingers shift to smooth and shape the clay. you’re lost in your own world. 

you look completely at ease, even in frustration, and something about it all — about you, your apron, and skin covered in flecks of clay — makes her heart skip. danielle can’t help but sneak a picture, you’re just so adorable in her eyes.

eventually, danielle can’t hold back. thirty-minutes later she closes her laptop softly and shifts in her seat, watching you for a few moments longer, letting the sound of your jazz playlist fill the silence. her chin is on her palm and she grins, calling out, “how about a break?”

“not yet,” you mumble, “almost done.” your eyes don’t leave the wheel, you’re not finished throwing the piece at hand — a strawberry vase that someone paid extra for; extra as in enough to take you and your girlfriend out for dinner at the end of the week — though your lips quirk into a small, appreciative smile.

she laughs softly, folding her arms as she sits back in the beanbag chair. “you’ve been making those weird noises you make when you’re frustrated for the past two hours, you know. i think you deserve one.”

finally breaking your focus, you glance over at her. her eyes are warm and soft and she’s smiling at you like she’s been waiting just to catch your attention. she looks especially alluring in your t-shirt, which fits loosely over her, and with her hair down messily. 

the vase isn’t quite finished, this is your second attempt at shaping it after all. you still have a few days before you can get it done, but you’d rather finish a complex piece like this now than later. spending a few minutes with your beloved girlfriend sounds lovely, but finishing a stubborn, pricey piece like this might have to come first. it’s for both of your sakes anyway, and it’ll only take maybe fifteen more minutes or so.

“dani,” you sigh, looking up at her with a pout, “can i finish this one first?”

she frowns at you, sighing before leaning against the cushion and admiring you again. “fine, fine.”

you give her an apologetic smile before returning to the piece. 

on your third attempt at constructing the strawberry vase, you accidentally make a dent. it had been going so well too, the sides all even and the structure perfect, but you just had to apply too much pressure as you slid your fingers up. you stare down at the clay spinning around, the dent making it look unappealing as it does so.

frustrated and out of sheer annoyance, you smack your hand down on it, flattening the shape completely. danielle watches you groan, leaning back and closing your eyes as you try to shake off the irritation.

as you redirect your attention again, starting to shape the mess of clay on the wheel, a small shuffle catches your attention. you turn to see danielle pulling up a chair right behind you. you raise a brow at the way she leans in close, wrapping her arms around you from behind, her small hands gently covering yours on the wheel.

you’re taken aback, glancing over your shoulder. “what are you doing?”

she tilts her head, grinning cheekily. “helping you out, of course.” she says in a light tone, sending a shiver down your spine.

her fingers curl around yours, guiding your hands back to the clay as you start to reshape it together. her fingers get covered in clay, but she doesn’t seem to care—she’s focused on you, her face close, eyes warm, breath hot as it hits your skin.

“the last time you tried to throw a cup you made quite the mess,” you chuckle, feeling her press closer with her chin resting on your shoulder. “you know this is just gonna make a mess, right?”

“maybe,” she whispers, a playful hint in her tone. and then, out of nowhere, she takes the opportunity of your head being angled towards her to press a quick, soft kiss to your lips.

your heart races, and you turn to her fully, a surprised smile spreading across your face. “is this your way of helping?”

“mhm,” she teases, giving your hands a final nudge before wiping her own on your apron. then, before you can react, her hands slip beneath the apron, resting gently on your ribs over the thin fabric of your tank top. her thumbs trace small circles there, rendering you a flustered mess as every thought of clay dissipates in your mind.

you feel her lips press a soft kiss to your shoulder, then another one to your neck, lingering just enough to send yet another shiver through you; your breath hitches.

turning to face her, your noses almost brush, and she’s giving you that look. the look that she always gives you when she’s amount to leave you breathless and flushed. she leans in again, catching your lips in another kiss, this one softer, warmer. 

your hands, still covered in clay, reach up to rest on her arms, pulling her just a bit closer as her fingers trace lazy patterns over your ribs. it’s a scene straight from a movie: the two of you sharing teasing, lingering kisses, playful and unhurried, each one leaving you feeling lighter than the last.

finally, she pulls back, to which you respond by chasing after, lips brushing against another. she’s smirking at you, her hand moving up to cup your face and brush some clay off.

“feeling better?” she asks as her thumb moves over to rest on the corner of your lip.

“much,” 

“right,” she starts, sliding her hand down to the base of your neck. “i think you should wrap up for the day and pay attention to your lovely girlfriend. how does that sound?”

with the time you spent with your eyes glued to the clay, you never realized the sun setting beside you. the dimmed rays shine on her face perfectly, accentuating each curve of every feature. danielle’s gaze is soft, her touch even softer as she slides her hands over your skin. you swallow shallowly, losing yourself at the sight of her—how could you say no when she looks at you like that?

“i think that sounds lovely.” you mutter, grinning as you lean in for one last kiss.

[strawbeerossi]

Stuffing Stockings

Pairing: Wife!Reader x Husband!Spencer

Description: Spencer and you have been married for ten years with a beautiful six year old daughter. Whenever she gives you her Christmas list, you notice something new on the list and bring it up to your husband.

Content/Warnings: Dad!Spencer, discussions of expanding family, interest in being pregnant/wanting another baby, breeding kink, oral sex (f rec), penetrative sex, mention of failed test and disappointment, happy ending.

Word Count: 3.5K

Merry Christmas, my sweeties! Santa T is giving you a present because of how much I love you all!

“Mama, I have my Christmas list ready!” Matilda announced, a bright smile on her face revealing the front tooth that the tooth fairy had recently come to take. She was a spitting image of Spencer, beautiful honey colored irises and soft brunette curls that framed her face, not to mention her intellect and her determination that no doubt her father had an influence on. 

“Your Christmas list? You’re early,” You smiled fondly as you looked over at the flower filled calendar on the wall closest to the stove, your coffee cup held comfortably between your hands. “Let me hear it, come on!” You urge on, an excited grin on your face. 

You always loved Christmas, however having Matilda just made the holidays so much better. Nothing compared to seeing her excitement whenever you’d place wrapped gifts under your Christmas tree, or when you’d ask her to help you make Christmas treats that her and Spencer would end up eating just days after they were made. 

You wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

“Well. I would like an American Girl doll, Rebecca Rubin to be exact.” Not a surprise. She loved dolls, her father spoiling her with any accessory or set she asked for. “And then I would like some light up sneakers, please. Sam has some at school and I think they are so cool!” She continued. The rest of the things she lifted were usual for a little girl. Until she got to the last thing on that list. 

“And then I want a little brother or sister.” She concluded, a wide grin on your face. The mere suggestion had you nearly choking on the mouthful of coffee, your eyes widening some. “Uncle Luke and aunt Penny said that I have to write it in my list so it happens!” 

Penelope and Luke. Classic. 

“A baby brother or sister?” You repeated, watching those beautiful curls bounce as the kindergartner nodded her head. “You do know that they won’t be here in time for Christmas if that happens, right?” You asked, wanting to break it gently to her that even if she got what she wanted, it would be well past Christmas before she got a sibling. 

“Oh. I know. Babies grow in mommy’s bellies for nine whole months. Which seems like a long time but I think it’ll go by fast! Oh please, mama?! A baby would be cute and cuddly, even whenever they are cranky!” 

The begging was tugging at your heart. She really wanted this, didn’t she? You and Spencer were financially stable enough for you to stay home while he worked with the BAU, not to mention that you both could definitely handle Matilda and a new baby. “You know I have to talk to daddy about this before we make a decision.”

After that, the idea of another baby was stuck in your mind. Your first pregnancy was rough, however you still really did enjoy the process of growing a future scholar who would change the world. Just thinking about it had you reminiscing, especially when it came to being pregnant. You could remember every appointment, the announcement to your friends and families, all the excitement that you and Spencer felt with every heartbeat and every little kick. 

Your husband had gotten home relatively early on a Saturday evening after a long case in Tampa, Florida. He was toeing his shoes off by the front door in an effort to surprise you and Matilda, the two of you unaware he was even coming home today. You were in the kitchen making dinner while your shared daughter was at the table, happily coloring in her new coloring book. 

 It was a blissful sight, the domesticity of it all bringing normalcy to Spencer’s busy and sometimes abnormal feeling life. “You two look peaceful,” He decided to speak up, Matilda quickly turning in her chair to look at her father. With a wide smile and teary eyes, she was quickly leaping from the chair to run into your husband’s expecting arms. “Hi!” He chuckled fondly while kissing her cheek sweetly. 

“I missed you!” She whined out, keeping a tight hold on her father. “I thought you weren’t gonna home until after Christmas!” She added on, making Spencer’s heart drop. He loved his job but he hated being away for what could’ve been weeks at a time. That was the hardest part. 

“Hey, I’m home now and I’m gonna be here for Christmas. I promise. In fact,” He was picking up Matilda while resting her on his hip. “I need to see your Christmas list!” He grinned while bouncing his daughter. “Mama, where’s the list?” Spencer then asked as he turned his attention to you. 

“Oh, mama needs to talk to you about that!” The six year old in his arms perked up, making Spencer look at you with an amused, yet questionable look. 

“Talk to me? About what? Don’t tell me that Tilly wants to get a car or something already.” Spencer teased. A car might’ve been easier convincing depending on how he felt about expanding the family. 

“Not exactly a car,” You laughed a bit while grabbing the list that had been neatly folded and stuck to the fridge with a magnet. “She wants a new American girl doll, a new accessory set to go with said doll, light up sneakers, a dollhouse,” You paused while reading over the last item. “And a baby brother or sister.” 

Spencer felt like the items on the list were easy enough. A doll, some accessories, a dollhouse and sneakers. He could knock that out with just one shopping trip. However whenever he heard the last item, his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “A new brother or sister, huh?” He asked slowly, glancing at the little girl who smiled widely. 

“I know the baby won’t be here for Christmas, daddy.” Matilda just knew by the look in his eyes that he didn’t wanna break the news she’d have to wait for that. Her reassurance had him taking in a breath of relief though. That little girl was too smart for her own good. 

“Well. That’s a big decision. You think you’re ready to be a big sister? Cause babies are a lot of work.” Spencer asked, a smile on his face at her sheer excitement he was entertaining the idea. “They cry a lot. Plus, they always need a lot of attention. That’ll mean that sometimes mama and daddy will be busy with the baby.” He said softly while rubbing her back. 

“I know and it’s okay! Babies need more help because they can’t really eat on their own or go potty in the bathroom, so that’s why you and mommy will need to pay extra attention sometimes. But babies are small and cute! And they always want cuddles!” Now that sounded like something Penelope Garcia would say of course she’d gotten to Matilda about the idea. She was just saying at the office that she was wanting another baby around. 

You offered a smile. “Well, it sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into it, Tilly! You know that me and dad have to talk about it though, as grownups.” You added, although judging by your husband’s wide smile and the twinkle in his eye, he was already sold on the entire Christmas list. Well, maybe this was easier to convince than a new car. 

After dinner and baths were in order, it  wasn’t long before you and Spencer were tucking Matilda into bed for the night. Gently closing the door behind you both, Spencer finally turned his attention to you. “A new baby. Wow..” He brought up the idea immediately, his arms gently wrapping around your waist. “How do you feel about the idea?” 

You smiled, body leaning back against his as you let out a soft hum of content. “Well, at first I was wary. Then the more I thought about it.. The more I really wanted it.” You said softly, head tilting up to face him more. “I mean, I think we’ve got this parenting thing down. Plus, I miss being pregnant and having a baby around. I feel like it’s going to be a positive change for us. Parents of two.”

That was all Spencer needed to hear to have him sold completely. “I agree. We are pretty good at this.” He chuckled a bit while moving to press a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s always fun trying too, huh? Maybe All our practicing will pay off.” He teased, making you laugh as you were playfully hitting his arm. “Hey! I’m just saying what we are both thinking!” He laughed in return. 

The both of you had retired to your bedroom for the night, gently closing the door behind you both. “It’s so good to have you home. I’ve missed you.” You sighed, offering a smile as you were heading over to sit on the edge of your shared bed. “It’s just not the same without you home but I know you have to save the world.” You smiled fondly, watching as your husband was shedding from his clothes. 

“I know, honey. I miss being home with you and Tilly more than anything when I have to be gone.” Spencer expressed his own feelings before heading over to you, kneeling in front of you with a soft smile. “But I’m glad to be home now,” He began, pressing kisses to your legs while getting settled between them. His hands were working on the button of your shorts before tugging them down your legs. “Besides, I’m gonna be here for the holidays and I even took the time off to make sure of it.” He hummed, his kisses moving to your inner thighs. 

“Working on the list early, I see.” You teased, brushing the mop of brunette curls from your husband’s face as he was playfully nipping on your plush inner thigh, lifting his head. 

“Guilty. I feel like this is the most expensive present Tilly is getting.” He teased, the both of you sharing a little giggle before he was going right back to where he started. 

Those kisses ended with your hips being tugged close to the end of the bed, his tongue lapping over your clothed clit. “God, I’ve missed you.” He murmured, hands working to tug your panties down your legs. Spencer was absolutely pleased with the sight of your glistening pussy, mouth salivating at the sight. It had been far too long for his liking. 

“Pretty girl. You look like you’ve missed me too.” He purred, tongue moving to flick over your throbbing bud, only chuckling as you were already clutching his hair. He didn’t make an effort to tease you long, tongue already delving into the warmth of your cunt as he was so focused on drinking every ounce of your essence, taking whatever you had to give him. 

“Spencer, fuck.” You squeaked, legs practically locking around his head to keep him in place as he was too drunk on lapping and sucking at your desperate pussy. The thought of a new baby excited him in more ways than one. 

There was the calm and innocent way that just had him thrilled to have a new baby and expand your beautiful family. Then there was the dirty and not so innocent side of him that knew there would be a lot of nights where he was stuffing your pussy just in an effort to get that positive test. Just the thought of his cum dripping down your trembling thighs was enough to have him hard as a rock, his cock begging for attention while he was so focused on giving you all of his. 

While his tongue feverishly lapped at your wetness, his hands were gripping your hips just a little tighter. Truth be told, Spencer could get off merely from cunnilingus alone. He fed off of your pleasure, the way you would shove his head more into your weeping cunt for more was enough to make his cock twitch in his boxers right now. 

Although even through all the excitement, he was soon pulling away from your pussy much to both of your dissatisfaction. “I feel like I’m gonna cum in my boxers and I’m not wasting what I could be giving you,” He added on, breathing labored as he was quickly getting up to shed his boxers while you were quick to do away with your clothes on your torso, shirt and bra thrown somewhere out of sight and out of mind. 

With one hand tugging at his cock, the other was quickly helping you scoot back on your bed, knowing you’d end up flying off if he dared pull you even just an inch closer from your current spot. 

“Comfortable?” He asked, watching you simply grab his arm to pull him on top of you. You didn’t even mind the feeling of his body crushing you for a split second, you knew that you needed him, now. Spencer was adjusting himself into a more comfortable position on top of you, his hand sliding between your thighs. He collected some of your arousal on his fingers before holding them up to show them off to you. 

You knew what was coming next, your mouth now open as you were waiting for the intrusion of his fingers. He learned it was the easiest way to keep you quiet when you needed to be. As you took the digits in your mouth, you were sucking on his fingers. “There we go.” Spencer praised as he was shifting, now pushing his leaking cock into your pussy with a soft groan. 

“I love you.” He breathed, letting his hips slowly snap against yours just to build you up for what was to come. Your face was contorted in pleasure as you muffled an ‘I love you’ around his fingers in return. 

The thought of you being pregnant was bringing out an animalistic side of your normal gentle husband. He loved seeing you pregnant with your first, it made him feel like he was finally contributing to society in the aspect of bringing another potential genius into the world who would do amazing things. The way you looked swollen with his child filled him with pride. 

It was also a bragging right. Yes, he had your hand in marriage but he also cemented the fact you were his. You were getting filled with his cum, begging him to ravage you the way you deserved. He was the only one who could make you feel good. 

The thought of you being pregnant with his second child was enough to make his thrusts get harder and faster. It was the ultimate act of love to carry his child, to raise a family with him. The ultimate act of intimacy of allowing him to know the pleasures of a family and a successful marriage. 

You were squirming underneath him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Spencer was all too focused on the images flooding his mind. “I’m gonna cum.” He panted. “You want me to fill you up? Give you a baby? Fuck.” Cursing was pretty rare for Spencer but just the mere slip of a curse word had your pussy clenching around his cock, signaling you were ready as well. 

With a few more sloppy snaps of his thrusts, you could feel the warmth of his spent flooding your cunt, your legs trembling as the sensation was enough to have you reaching your climax. “Fuck.” You panted, your husband’s fingers now being pulled out of your mouth. 

His face was flushed, brunette curls plastered to his sweaty forehead as he looked down at you. “You know, I wish we had this idea before. Christmas is coming up so soon, we won’t even be able to get a positive test for her in time for the holiday if we get lucky after this time.” 

“I think that Tilly is gonna be happy either way, to be fairly honest. You should’ve seen the way she looked at me when she was asking for a new sibling. She was so excited.” You recalled, smiling in content as you were slowly, but surely, catching your breath.

With soft eyes, Spencer leaned down to press a sweet kiss against your lips. “I’m really happy she brought it up first. I’ve been wanting another baby for a while but I didn’t want you to feel obligated.” The confession had your hand lightly swatting at your husband’s chest.

“Why didn’t you talk to me before?! I never would’ve felt obligated. I’ve always wanted a big family, you know that.” 

The reassurance had your husband chuckling fondly. “I know, I know. I promise that for the next little Reid, I’ll get to you before our daughter.” He teased, nose nuzzling into your cheek before he was pushing himself out of bed. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, mama.”

—--

It was currently the third week of January, Matilda freshly back in school for the second semester. It was after you dropped Tilly off at school that you were feeling off. You’d been sick the past week or so, mostly just chalking it up to be a bug Matilda seemingly brought home. The more awful you felt, the more you were worrying. Being pregnant wasn’t a problem at all, however the way you would get your hopes up would be.

You’d pushed the idea back for a while, it wasn’t until you were sick for the fifth time that you figured that the test would be better than nothing. You’d only gotten one negative, however with the brain of your husband and his facts about conception, he still gave you some hope.

The sound of the timer going off in the bathroom snapped you out of your thoughts. It was now or never. As you approached the bathroom, you could feel your heart begin to race. If you were pregnant, that would be the best little surprise for your little family. If not, well, you’d at least get to be heartbroken in peace.

Taking in a deep breath and mustering up all of your courage, you were lifting the test from the sink. You felt like you were going to be sick from a mixture of your ailment as well as the nerves. You exhaled the breath you took in seconds before, eyes fixed on the test.

Pregnant.

You nearly fainted, free hand covering your mouth from the surprise. Pregnant, you’re pregnant. Pregnant!!!!

You were thrilled, the test being tucked away in its box before you were hiding it away. You were going to have to show Spencer and Matilda when they got home. You didn’t have the strength to keep it a huge secret and put a surprise together, they needed to know as soon as possible. 

Spencer had gotten to go home early in order to pick up Matilda, something rare that Emily gave him the chance to do considering he was away so much as is. If only those two knew what they were coming home to. 

You were just getting finished with a snack for your daughter whenever you heard the sound of keys jingling in the door. It’s now or never!

“We are home!” The little voice called from the living room, the child taking off her coat and backpack before making sure to hang them up.

“Hi you two.” You offered a smile, pressing a kiss to your daughter’s cheek, followed by a quick peck on your husband’s lips. “Tilly, I have you a snack.” She hummed fondly, watching the little brunette hurry to the table. “You might wanna sit down as well,” You informed your husband, who raised an eyebrow. 

Without question, he’d approached the table before sitting himself down. “Are we in trouble?” He teased, making you roll your eyes fondly.

“No. I just have something I need to tell you both.” You hummed, grabbing the wrapped box from the counter before placing it on the table. “I found this in the closet. It was addressed to you two, I think we forgot it around Christmas.”

“Forgot it? Mama, we never forget presents.” Matilda spoke around a mouthful of apple slices, although her curiosity was piqued as she leaned against the table. “Open it, daddy!” She urged.

As the colorful wrapping paper was peeled away, the male was opening the box. He knew what it was, however he wanted Matilda to have the first big reaction. The minute that the stick was on the table, you could practically see Matilda’s eyes pop out of their sockets from surprise. “Does that say pregnant?!” She asked, looking at her mother with a wide smile. “There’s a baby?!” 

Her excitement made you want to cry your eyes out. “There’s a baby!” You gushed happily. “Now, I still have to go to the doctor because I don’t have specifics just yet,” You began, although your daughter was all too happy to quickly run into your body, arms wrapped around your torso. 

“We are gonna have a baby!!!!”

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, kidnapped reader, bondage, somnophilia, oral, light ass-play

fem reader

It’s Valentine’s Day, and I’m thinking about the incel who’s never celebrated with anyone…

Only… now that he has you locked up in his house all to himself, He’s going to have you treat him to all those Valentine's cliches he’s missed out on – all inside the comforts of your new home, of course.

It’s early morning, and he’s got his cock inside you before you’ve even woken up. His thrusts are sleepy, and his voice is drowsy as he says he looks forward to breakfast – that he hasn’t had anyone cook him breakfast in bed since his mom on his tenth birthday. He likes his eggs sunny-side up, his bacon crispy, his toast golden, and his coffee just a little sweet for the occasion, plus a small glass of juice on the side.

After cumming inside you, he tells you not to take too long – that he wants you back in bed, hand-feeding him before the bed gets cold.

When you get back from the kitchen, he’s picked out a romance to watch – patting your place on the bed with a big grin on his face.

The trouble in your chest is a little eased to see him happy. Though it’s sick doing these types of things with your kidnapper – you much prefer acting like his girlfriend than getting your tits, clit, and ass flogged with a leather belt. 

So you curl up beside him like he gestured and hand-fed him like he’d said and laughed and awed at the movie playing out before you as if you were really enjoying yourself. And when he whispers that he’s made you breakfast as well while lifting the tray off his lap to reveal his hard-on, you hold back the wince and crawl under the covers – not a single slight leaving your lips as you wrap them around him and start sucking him off.

He hadn’t bothered wiping it with a tissue after this morning’s first, and so flakes of dried cum and soured bitterness coat your mouth in overwhelming filth, making tears well up and go dripping pitifully down your cheeks – holding back from gagging as you keep bobbing your head all pliantly while using your tongue to lave over his veins.

He sighs in bliss above the duvet, weaving both hands into your hair as he nudges his tip down further into your plush throat, so warm and wet and tight around him, milking him for the meal in his balls. 

He shoots in right down to your belly when your lips kiss his base, petting your cheek while waiting for you to swallow around him. It takes everything in you not to choke on it and puke – but you’ve done it enough times now to resurface only breathless as you lay yourself to rest against his chest.

He says he’s got you a gift after having let you rest up for a little while – and drags a gift bag from under the bed. You receive it, forcing a shy smile – knowing not to expect a plushie and a heart-shaped box of chocolates but hoping for it nonetheless.

“I thought, since we can’t go outside, we’ll just have to make the most out of it in here...”

The contents of the bag make you swallow thickly – wide-eyed and goose-fleshed with trepidation. 

It’s all red – but that must have been the only thing Valentine’s about it…

Red silk blindfold, red ball gag, red rope, red fluffy cuffs, and a butt plug decorated with a heart-shaped ruby.

“And as for your gift to me,” He breaks your stillness, taking your face in both hands as he lifts it to level his – giving your pout a kiss that breaks with a wet smack. “All your holes all day long is all I want.”

You’re a picture. Bite marks on your breasts, a ring of teeth around your sore nipples – also on the inside of your thighs – along with full handprints welting the soft flesh. On your back with your hands beneath you, kept there in their cuffs – legs raised and spread, tied up in the red rope – mouth sucking on your ball, all muffled whining as you wiggle – blindfold soaked a deep burgundy from the tears streaming down your face. 

Your poor ass spread on the plug he’s eased inside, all cutely swallowed around the heart-shaped ruby glistening in the slick seeping from your pussy as he fucks you hard and fast and unrelentingly with a hand held tightly around your throat – moaning Happy Valentin’s Day!

BNHA – Shigaraki, Denki, Deku

JJK – Mahito

HQ – Tendou

CSM – Denji, Yoshida

[bangtanbeom]

⋆˚࿔ perfect match 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

୨♡୧ part one ୨♡୧

pairing: rentalbf!soobin x fem!reader genre: fluff, comedy? (debatable), fake dating au summary: desperate to escape your friends matchmaking, a small lie spirals out of control. soobin—your charming, professional, rental boyfriend—the perfect answer. but what if the hardest part won't be fooling your friends and your ex? what if it’s reminding your own heart it's all fake? w/c: ~3k warning: not entirely proofread, fluff (might be cringe), an attempt at humor. a/n: hi! welcome to another story (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ i had this idea for years and recently i've been reading so many fake dating webtoons and it motivated me to finally start writing this one! and i thought soobin would be a perfect fit for the perfect boyfriend image. i'm excited how this one will turn out! enjoy <3

the cafe buzzed with chatter, the scent of vanilla lattes and fresh pastries filling the air. you stirred your iced coffee absentmindedly, half-listening to your friend's conversation—until mina leaned forward, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"so," she said, tapping her nails against the table. "i met this amazing guy at the gym last week. tall, sweet, works in finance. you have to meet him.

you sighed, already knowing where this was going. "mina, no."

"oh, come on!" jia chimed in, nudging your arm. "you ghosted every guy after the blind dates and you're rarely out of the house since you got dumped. it's been months!"

"and i'm fine with that," you said, though the words tasted hollow even to you.

mina scoffed. "liar. you've been buried in work, and your idea of fun friday night is rewatching 'reply 1988' alone. again."

you opened your mouth to argue, but jia cut in before you. "just one more blind date. if you hate him, we'll never bring it up again."

a headache was forming between your temples. you loved your friends, but their relentless matchmaking was exhausting, and you knew they would definitely bring it up again. before you could think better of it, the words tumbled out.

"i am seeing someone."

silence.

mina's spoon clattered against her cup. jia's eyes widened.

"what?" they said in unison.

your stomach dropped. you hadn't planned this—there was no name, no face, just the desperate need to make them stop.

jia recovered first. "since when? who is he? why haven't you mentioned him before?"

"it's... new," you hedged, scrambling for details. "we're taking it slow."

they exchanged glances, and you braced yourself for interrogation—but then mina's expression softened. "well... we're happy for you. seriously."

jia nodded. "but you have to bring him to the dinner next week. you know, the one where he might show up."

your ex. the one who'd made you feel small, replaceable. the reason you'd taken a break from dating in the first place.

a cold knot formed in your chest. you couldn't show up alone. you weren't ready to face him, especially when you were still hurt.

"of course," you heard yourself say. "he'll be there."

as your friends cheered, your mind raced.

what have i just done?

you had exactly eight days to find the perfect boyfriend.

and he didn't even exist.

the moment you stepped into your apartment, the weight of your lie crashed down on you.

eight days.

eight days to produce a boyfriend out of thin air—one charming enough to convince your friends everything's going well, impressive enough to make your ex regret everything, and believable enough to not get caught in your own web.

you groaned and face-planted onto the couch.

"this is a disaster."

your phone buzzed. a text from mina.

mina: can't wait to meet your mystery man! tell me everything about him!!

you stared at the screen, your fingers hovering uselessly over the keyboard. what could you say? that your imaginary boyfriend was tall? kind? had a nice voice? that was all you had—vague traits you'd daydreamed about but had never actually found in real life.

you typed back:

you: haha i'll tell you more later!

and immediately threw your phone across the couch like it had burned you.

the next morning, you dragged yourself to work, dark circles under your eyes from a night spent spiraling. your coworker, yeonjun, took one look at you and whistled.

"wow. who died?"

"my dignity," you muttered, slumping into your chair.

he rolled his chair closer, intrigued. "okay, drama queen. spill."

you hesitated. but yeonjun was the king of bad decisions—if anyone had advice on digging yourself out of a hole, it was him.

so you told him.

his eyebrows shot up. then burst out laughing.

"oh my god. you actually told them you had a boyfriend?"

"shut up." you hissed, glancing around the office. "i panicked!"

yeonjun wiped a tear from his eye. "okay, okay. so just... find a guy to pretend for one night. easy."

you blinked. "easy?"

"yeah! get a friend to do it. or—" his eyes lit up. "oh! rent one."

you stared at him. "a boyfriend?"

"yeah! it's a thing. there are, like, agencies for that. super professional." he pulled out his phone. "look, here's one—'perfect match rentals.' they specialize in fake dates, events, all that."

your stomach twisted. was this really your only option?

yeonjun smirked. "unless you wanna tell them you lied?"

you shuddered. no. absolutely not. they'd never let you live it down. you already dug the hole for yourself—too deep. and let's not start about your ex.

with a deep breath, you nodded.

"fine. let's rent me a boyfriend."

yeonjun swiped through his phone with the enthusiasm of a kid in a candy store. "okay, let's see what we've got here. perfect match rentals—professional, discreet, and way too many good-looking guys."

you leaned over his shoulder, squinting at the screen. the agency's website was sleek, polished and slightly intimidating. rows of profiles stared back at you—smiling, smoldering, some even holding puppies for maximum charm.

"this feels illegal," you muttered.

yeonjun scoffed. "illegal would be if we were hiring a hitman. this is just... strategic dating."

you shot him a look.

he grinned. "relax. think of it like ordering food. you're just picking the perfect dish for the occasion."

you sighed. "fine. let's see the menu."

yeonjun tapped the first profile. "ooh, check out jackson. 29, business man, speaks three languages. his tagline is literally: 'impress your collegues—or your ex.'"

you squinted at the photo of a sharp-jawed man in a tailored suit. "he looks like he owns a yacht."

"exactly! your ex would hate that."

"yeah, but he also looks like he'd side-eye me for using the wrong fork."

yeonjun snorted. "okay, fair. next!" he swiped. "oh! jaeyun. 25, specialty: 'the kind your mom would love to.' look at his smile! he probably bakes cookies."

you tilted your head. "he's cute, but..."

"but what?"

"i don't need a golden retriever in human form. my ex would think i downgraded to a puppy."

yeonjun groaned. "you're impossible." swipe. "alright, how about taehyung? 27, 'mysterious artist' vibe. look at that smolder."

in the photo, a brooding guy in all black stared moodily at the camera, a paintbrush behind his ear.

you deadpanned. "i don't need my fake boyfriend giving me cryptic one-word answers all night."

"ugh, fine." yeonjun scrolled furter, muttering. "sweet but not boring, handsome but not intimidating, confident but not arrogant..." then he froze.

"oh."

you frowned. "what?"

he turned the screen toward you.

the profile photo showed a guy with soft, warm eyes and a dimpled smile that felt like spring. he wasn't posing dramatically—just leaning against a cafe chair, looking at the camera like he already knew you.

name: soobin age: 24 specialty: the boyfriend experience

your breath caught.

yeonjun's voice dropped to a whisper. "damn."

you swallowed. "he's..."

"exactly what you need," yeonjun finished, grinning.

you hesitated. "but what if he's too good? what if my friends think i'm lying because there's no way someone like him would date me?"

yeonjun rolled his eyes. "first of all, rude to yourself. second—that's the point. he's supposed to make it believable." he tapped the screen. "look at his reviews. five star across the board. 'made my parents adore him.' 'had my ex seething with jealousy.' 'felt like a real relationship.'

you bit your lip.

yeonjun smirked. "so... should i book him?"

you took a deep breath.

"do it."

yeonjun's fingers flew across his phone screen with terrifying enthusiasm. "aaand—booked." he grinned at you, satisfied. "you're officially getting a fake boyfriend."

your stomach flipped. "wait, already? what did you even put in the request?"

"relax," he said, waving his phone. "just the basics—dinner with friends, ex will be there, need someone to make you look like the ultimate glow-up." he scrolled through the confirmation email. "oh, and he'll meet you tomorrow at 6 PM to go over details."

you nearly choked. "tomorrow?!"

yeonjun shrugged. "professionalism, baby. this guy doesn't mess around."

you groaned, dragging your hands down your face. "i can't believe i'm doing this.

"believe it," yeonjun said, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "by the time next week, your ex will be crushed, your friends will be shocked, and you—" he poked your cheek. "—will owe me big for saving your ass."

you swatted him away, but a nervous laugh escaped. "this is either going to be the best decision of my life or a spectacular disaster."

yeonjun winked. "best part? either way, it'll be entertaining. for me."

the glow of your phone screen was the only light in the darkened room, casting long shadows across the piled of discarded clothing thrown over your bed. you stared at the text from mina, the words blurring as your eyes burned from lack of sleep.

mina: omg he said yes?? so he's coming? super funn!

you tossed the phone aside with a groan, letting it sink into the sea of fabric surrounding you. the digital clock on your nightstand ticked over to 1:18 AM, the red numbers glowing in the darkness.

"this is ridiculous," you muttered to the empty room, flopping back onto the mattress. a misplaced coat hanger stabbing into your shoulder, and you batted it away with more force than necessary.

the ceiling fan spun lazy circles above you as your mind raced through the same exhausting loop it had been stuck in for hours.

outfit. story. backstory. cancellation.

a nervous laugh bubbled up as you imagines explaining this to someone.

i'll be meeting my fake boyfriend tomorrow to plan our fake relationship for a dinner where my very real ex will be watching.

your phone buzzed again.

yeonjun: stop overthinking and go to sleep. you have a hot date tomorrow.

you scowled at the message.

you: it's NOT a date. it's a business meeting.

yeonjun: sure. whatever helps you sleep at night.

you rolled onto your stomach, burying your face in a pillow that smelled faintly of fabric softener and regret. the scent reminded you of laundry day, which reminded you of chores, which reminded you of all the very normal, very boring things you should be worrying about instead of this elaborate charade.

the sweater you'd tried on earlier—the soft cream one with the delicate embroidery at the collar—laid crumpled near your feet. it had been the frontrunner before the great wardrobe purge of midnight. classy but casual. approachable but put together. the perfect 'i didn't try too hard but still want to make a good impression' outfit.

not that you were trying to impress anyone.

except, well.

you groaned again, louder this time, as if the sound could exorcise the butterflies staging a rebellion in your stomach.

a glance at the clock. 1:37 AM

with a sudden burst of determination, you sat up and grabbed your laptop. the screen flared to life, illuminating your tired face in the dark room.

"backstory," you muttered to yourself, fingers hovering over the keys. "we need a believable backstory."

the blank document stared back at you, cursor blinking expectantly.

how did we meet?

your fingers tapped out possibilities:

coffee shop (cliche)

mutual friends (vague)

work connection (too easy to fact check)

you deleted them all with a frustrated backspace barrage.

the reality of what you were doing settled over you like a heavy blanket. you were about to pay a stranger to pretend care about you. to look at you with affection that wasn't real. to spin lies so convincing your closest friends would believe them.

your fingers stilled on the keyboard.

maybe you should cancel.

the thought brought both relief and a strange pang of disappointment. you could text yeonjun right now, tell him to call it off. you'd face the teasing from your friends, sure, but at least you wouldn't be living this lie.

your phone buzzed again, startling you.

unknown number: hi, this is soobin from perfect match. looking forward to meeting you tomorrow at 6. let me know if you have any special requests for our backstory.

your breath caught.

he texted like a normal person. no corporate speak, no weird formality.

you stared at the message, thumbs hovering over the screen. what did one say to their rented significant other?

looking forward to being fake-dating you?

before you could overthink it, you typed:

you: hi! likewise, no special requests—just need to survive dinner with my ex.

you hit sent before you could second-guess yourself, then immediately cringed.

"survive dinner with my ex?" you muttered. "what are you, twelve?"

the three dots appeared almost immediately.

soobin: ah, the classic revenge fake-dating scenario. don't worry. i've got plenty of experience making exes regret their life choices.

a surprised laugh escaped you

you: that's weirdly comforting."

soobin: that's what i'm here for. see you tomorrow. try to get some sleep.

you stared at the message, something warm yet nerve-wrecking feeling unfurling in your chest. maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

closing the laptop, you finally turned off the light. outside the window, the city hummed its nighttime lullaby, and for the first time that evening, your mind grew quiet too.

tomorrow would come, with all its complications and charades. but for now, in the dark, you let yourself imagine—just for a moment—what might feel like to have someone like soobin, just someone in general, look at you like you were the only person in the room.

even if it was all pretend.

the cafe was too bright.

that was your first thought as you hovered outside the entrance, fingers nervously adjusting the strap of your bag for the twelfth time in two minutes. the afternoon sun glinted off the glass windows, making the entire establishment look like it was under a spotlight—which, of course, only amplified your growing sense of dread.

this was a mistake.

you checked your phone again. 5:58 PM. two minutes early.

your stomach twisted.

you could still leave. you should leave. this whole thing was absurd. who hired a boyfriend? who pretended to be in a relationship just to save face in front of their ex?

you... apparently.

with a deep breath, you pushed open the door.

the scent of roasted coffee beans and warm pastries wrapped around you as you stepped inside. it was cozy—wooden tables, soft jazz playing in the background, the low hum of conversations. a few people glanced up as you entered, and you immediately stiffened, suddenly hyper-aware of how out of place you felt.

was it obvious why you were here?

you swallowed hard and scanned the room.

then you saw him.

soobin.

he was sitting near the back, one hand curled around a coffee cup, the other tapping idly on his phone. he looked... normal.

not in a bad way. just—human?

no flashy suit, no over-the-top charm oozing from his posture. just a guy in a soft-looking sweater, his hair slightly messy like he'd run a hand through it one too many times.

and then he looked up.

your breath hitched.

his eyes—warm, brown, kind—met yours, and for a second, you forgot how to move.

then he smiled.

not a practiced, customer-service smile. not a smirk. just a small, genuine tilt of his lips, like he was happy to see you.

it threw you off completely.

you forced your legs to work, weaving through the tables until you stood awkwardly in front of him.

"hi," you said, voice slightly too high. "you're soobin, right?"

he nodded, setting his phone down. "yeah. and you must be my date for next weekend."

his voice was deeper than you expected. calm. steady.

you nodded, then realized you were just standing there like an idiot.

"right. yeah. should i—" you gestured awkwardly at the chair across from him.

"please," he said, motioning for you to sit.

you did, gripping the edge of the table like it was the only thing keeping you from floating away.

it lasted approximately three seconds.

three agonizing seconds where you stared at your hands, at the table, at the wall behind him—anywhere but at him—while he just... waited. patient. unfazed.

finally, you blurted out:

"this is weird."

soobin blinked. then, to your surprise, he laughed—a soft, warm sound.

"yeah," he admitted, running a hand through his hair. "it kind of is."

the honestly caught you off guard.

"you're not going to pretend this is totally normal?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

he shrugged. "would you believe me if i did?"

"...no."

"exactly." he took a sip of his coffee. "so. let's just acknowledge it's weird, and then move on."

you exhaled, shoulders loosening slightly. "okay. yeah. that helps."

another silence.

"so," you tried again, "how long have you been, uh, doing this?"

"renting myself out as a fake boyfriend?"

you cringed. "when you say it like that, it sounds bad."

he grinned. "about a year. mostly for events like this—dinners, parties, the occasional family gathering."

"do you... like it?"

"it pays well," he said simply. then, after a pause, "and sometimes, it's nice. helping people out, i mean."

you studied him. there was something in his tone—not quite sadness, but... understanding. like he got why someone would do this.

"so," he said, setting his cup down, "tell me about this dinner."

you sighed, rubbing your temples. "right. okay. so my ex is going to be there—"

"right, yes. revenge."

you shot him a look. "it's not revenge. it's just... a lie that got out of hand." you trailed off.

"sounds like revenge." he supplied, smirking.

you groaned. "fine. maybe a little."

he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "i'm listening."

and so you explained—the lie, your friends, the never-ending blind dates, the way your stomach churned at the thought of showing up alone while he got to parade around with his new girlfriend—the same girl he had cheated on you with.

soobin nodded along, his expression shifting between amusement and something softer—sympathy, maybe.

when you finished, he hummed. "okay. so we need a backstory."

"right."

"how did we meet?"

you hesitated. "i was thinking... coffees shop?"

he raised an eyebrow. "like this?"

"too obvious?"

"a little." he tapped his fingers against the table. "what about... a bookstore? you were reaching for the same book, we got to talking..."

you blinked. "that's... actually kind of cute."

"i have my moments," he said dryly, but there was a playful glint in his eyes.

"okay, bookstore it is," you agreed, "and we've been dating for...?"

"two months. long enough to be serious, not so long that it's weird they haven't met me yet."

you nodded, scribbling notes in your phone like this was some kind of bizarre business meeting.

"what do i do for work?" he asked.

"something impressive but not too impressive," you mused. "graphic designer?"

"perfect. and you?"

"same as real life. marketing."

he grinned. for the first time since you'd walked in, your shoulders loosened. maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

as you wrapped up the details—favorite foods, pet peeves, how you like your coffee—you caught yourself laughing at something he said.

laughing.

with your fake boyfriend.

the absurdity of it all hit you again, but this time, it didn't feel like panic. it felt like... fun.

soobin leaned back in his chair, studying you with an amused expression. "you're not as nervous anymore."

you blinked. "i'm not?"

"nope. your shoulders dropped about ten minutes ago."

you hadn't even noticed.

"guess you're just that good at your job," you muttered.

he smiled—not the polite one from earlier but something warmer. "or maybe you're just not as awkward as you think you are."

you rolled your eyes, but couldn't help but smile.

"so," he said, finishing the last of his coffee, "we good for next week?"

you took a deep breath. "yeah. we're good."

୨♡୧ part one ୨♡୧

© bangtanbeom 2025

[pixiesndberries]

HOW DO I GET YOU ALONE?

— Logan Howlett ❞

𖦰 :: summary — remembering her first love after a long time of running away from it.

→ Logan Howlett, Fem!Reader, Jean Grey, Rogue, Kitty Pryde, and more.

♫ :: Alone - Heart (Bad Animals, 1987) — It Must've Been Love - Roxette (It Must've Been Love, 1990)

𖦰 .. warnings — angst; mentions of intimate moment together (18+ themes), strong words, lmk if I forgot something.

> I haven't double checked this, might contain grammatical errors and typos.

𖦰 author's note — LMK IF YOU WANT LOGAN'S POV GUYS 🙏 I kinda felt shitty and I wanted a heart clenching angst, I don't want them to be happy and all of that love story. Probably my longest work ever and I'll have my break for like a day or two (more like 2 years) anyways HAVE FUN POOKIES!

WORD COUNT — 3, 666k words

"Hey, take care of the kids and yourself too." the man mutters underneath his breath as he places his 'best dad in the world' coffee mug in the sink, quickly grabbing himself a napkin to wipe the left residue on his lips — it took her a quick moment to respond since her attention is too focused on putting her children's school lunch in their very own lunch boxes, "yeah, yeah you too." she nods as she wipes her hand in her colourful apron, giving him a glare.

"did you have everything? car keys? the lunch I made you?" she says with a worried yet hurried tone making sure her husband got everything in his hands before leaving the house — "yes, ma'am." he chuckles with a nod, before she could even say something back he walked up to her wrapping his arms around her, planting a kiss on her temples.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

he nodded and left pulls away, calling the kids to have their goodbyes before their father left for work — she turns around and sighs while wiping the bead of sweat forming in her forehead, she then closes the lunchboxes and place it inside the lunch bags.

for the last nine years, this is her daily routine — to be a responsible wife and mother towards her husband and children, to be her children's first teacher and to be her husband's helping hand.

just like her dream, to be wife to somebody.

to a certain someone.

"Mommy!" james yells from his room making her drop what she was doing in panic that something might've happen to her first born son, she rushed upstairs 'till his room just to see him being completely fine — "Mommy, we need to bring old photos of our parents to school for our family tree." he says slightly feeling scared that he might've freaked his mom out for yelling too loud and exaggerated.

she sighs closing her eyes, but then looks at the kid, again trying to be calm as possible not wanting to scold the child because the school bus is going to arrive in ten minutes and he just had the balls to tell her that right now. "Okay, give me a quick moment. Wait downstairs and watch Peter and Julien for me, is that okay?" she says calmly.

"okay, mommy." james nodded as he carries his backpack with him, she created a space so he could get out of his bedroom door — when she heard his foot steps coming from the stairs she closed his bedroom door and made her way to the attic wherein the old and useless stuff was placed.

she pulled the ladder string making the ladder fall on it's own, she then secured it making sure it's stable enough to step on. As soon as it was stable enough she climbed, her head peeking through the attic.

she then spend her last minutes searching for some old boxes with photos, she already obtained her husband's old photos, mainly the one from his school yearbook photos — on the other hand, she couldn't manage to look for hers. She didn't really had much of photos before except for some that are nowhere to be found, she didn't go to school either which means she does have yearbook photos to share.

she already wanted to give up and just hand out the photos that she had in her hands right now, but her eyes landed on this brown wooden box with her brain processing where it could be from, it looks familiar at the same time it doesn't.

she then crouched to grab the box, it was small and almost fragile considering how old it maybe is. She shook the box making sure it has something inside and it did sound like there are things inside but it feels like it's packed with so much things inside.

she already forgot about the ticking of the clock and how close the school bus might be already. She flick the button open, bringing her hand to open the lid.

letters

photographs

and a locket.

it made her stop breathing for a moment, it's like her soul jumped out of her body for a quick mini second as the realization of what this was — she blinked while her fingers lingered into the rough almost fragile papers that contains letters and the photos wherein the colors are slowly fading.

she exhales and attempted to push back the letters and photos all at once in the small box, she's rushing making it unable to push it all at once except if placed neatly, out of frustration she dropped the box making it scattered all around the floor with the other ones flying somewhere in the room — she sighs closing her eyes, only to see a photo of them lying in the floor with a letter behind it.

the poorly written words even brought those memories back too good yet it stings painfully than being tortured by an electrocuting machine — no, she wasn't supposed to sit here and see this all of these things that are supposed to be gone ever since she left that damn roof. She already left what she was many years ago and she's not planning to remember nor come back because she's already contended of what she have right now, this was her dream right?

she felt a bead of tear slowly runs down her cold cheeks as she stare at the photo with her hand holding into it, wanting to just tear it apart or maybe burn it until it's all nothing but ashes that she's soon going to throw away in the lake nearby her house.

hair was short, smile was wide, she's wearing his leather jacket, his hands wrapped around her waist and her lips was attached into his cheeks — the piece of paper crumbled into her hand as she lets out an exhausted sigh and her eyes' blinking trying to avoid wasting tears again.

the same face she had as they were talking that night, the night that absolutely ruined her.

before this whole him meeting jean thing, everything was way too different compared to what situation they're in after him meeting jean — they're almost entwined and it feels like they're the only one who understands each other wether it's about missions or just in general.

birds of a feather or two peas in a pod, that's what professor x calls them, they're almost inseparable — but as times goes by it's more than just friendship.

at some point the tension started being way too compacted that it's almost hard to resist the fact that he couldn't help but to look at her lips everytime she speaks or maybe she couldn't help but to look when he's just there standing topless while fixing something — everything was irresistible.

"I don't know, he just keeps coming at me or something." she shrugs with their bodies next to each other as stares at her drink, the tension was tight and somehow warm — and the fact that Logan is questioning about this random dude who came up to her basically checking her out, it's not helping.

he doesn't want to sound possessive.

she's not his.

she doesn't want to avoid the guy either.

it's not like he's going to get jealous.

he didn't mutter any response but the moment she looked at him, she can hear the mutters inside his head — she knows that she agreed to not read his mind but she couldn't help, her head got ears and it's hearing too well.

"I'm not going with him, not worth my time. Rather, I know someone's better at wasting my time." she mutters underneath her breath quickly looking back at her whiskey as he looks back — he clicked his tongue putting the glass down in the counter, she then looks back making their eyes locked at each other.

it was deep, it was something, what do you call that? mind fucking?

she's sure it's not her telepathy thing that is wanting to pull him into a kiss right now and let him do the things that he wanted to do to her, and Logan is also sure that's it's not only him who's been feeling this close and those gazes and touches didn't have any meaning.

"fuck." she mutters underneath her breath as she holds into the bathroom's towel rail for balance as Logan's teeth leaves marks on her neck — she can't help but to wince and moan lightly as he squeezes her glutes, feeling the tight pressure.

"Logan, it's going to be visible." she sighs as he pulls away with her free hand resting on the back of his head.

"can't find the problem."

fuck, literally.

she pulls him in a passionate kiss, feeling almost like high or euphoric just by this. It was an overwhelming gut rush that she couldn't explain, she can taste the bitterness of the liquor he just had mixing with hers and it's getting her almost feral — "fuck me, Logan." she groans in his ears, like that her request is what he fulfils.

it would be a lie if both of them say everything happened once or twice, it was more than that — they didn't shared just themselves, their body, a kiss but an intimacy that she knew she wouldn't have with anyone else except for Logan.

it wouldn't be the same if it's not Logan.

every night, as they lay together in bed with Logan next to her sleeping his ass off — she couldn't help but to think, what they really are.

sometimes she would just be there and imagine their future together, kids, a nice house, and them being together — a small house down town just perfectly enough for their family, she even promised herself that if they're going to have their first son, it's name is going to be James Howlett Jr.

she's never really been a vocal type of person since from the start, she prefers quiet over anything else in this world — she never once brought the words, "what are we?" or maybe ask him if they're more than just sharing naked bodies at one bed or crashing lips together as the world falls apart around them.

but then she just spends her whole night pondering when's the right time going to be to just ask him if,

if he feels more than just sexual tension or whatever was this.

like, it couldn't be so casual that he'd hug her from behind or be a worrywart everytime she's out of sight during missions — and most of all, friends don't say I love you during sex, right?

she'd always remember when a fortune teller told her that 'you wouldn't know when the universe is going to turn against you' she never believed it not until she came home from a mission along with kitty — as she walk in the halls, she could already hear the familiar voice; his voice.

and jean's voice?

when she was only few steps away from the room where all the noises of the room is coming from, she was fighting with herself wether to just stay and listen or just walk by the room so maybe he'll notice that she's there or maybe just mind her own business, they're just friends right?

she can hear Logan's chuckle as she teases him over something.

she couldn't help but to feel this weird ache in her stomach, she couldn't explain the feeling but it was slowly going up her chest until it reaches her throat — her chest rises she closed her eyes trying to take deep breaths and thinking to just walk away.

she opens her eyes and exhales heavily, almost audible — she walked pass by the room purposely making her steps audible, she didn't even know why she did that.

she walked quickly back to her room and closed the door behind her, then leaning her back into the door with a heavy sigh — why did I do that?

why do I feel like this?

why,

why,

and why's.

that's all she could think of all night, they're just friends right?

the kiss

the way he holds her hand

no, she pushed herself to calm down — Logan can be friends with anyone, what she witnessed is just a friendly conversation so where's the reason to be paranoid?

and they aren't even together.

each night she wasted her time pondering what to do because they are slowly drifting away from each other — as time passes Logan and Jean's relationship are getting tighter, closer, it's like they're sewn together and she's just there.

letting things be,

letting everything go it's way like nothing happened between them.

"are you seriously going to stand there and just watch them?" rogue scoffs while holding a cup of coffee, scooting herself next to her friend who seems to be swimming in her own thoughts — her mind was blank while leaning into the balcony as the stars shines bright, she's well aware of the company that rogue and kitty offered her.

"didn't know you're a masochist now." kitty teased making rogue let out a low chuckle as she sips her coffee — no reaction from her, she just breaths heavily.

the atmosphere was quiet for a moment, only the sound of crickets was audible but she broke it after seconds — "I don't know, if he wanted me in the first place it wouldn't be like this."

"I mean like, the real thing."

rogue and kitty exchanged glances feeling bad for their friend, rogue looked at her for a moment then let's out a heavy sigh.

"you should talk to him, you know, to have a closure of what you two did isn't just games."

"I wish it was that easy." she says looking back at rogue, "I've made numerous attempts but when it's the actual thing and he's there, it's so hard to speak."

rogue and kitty couldn't find the perfect words to help her put her hopes up, they haven't been in her place — she's not asking for it either, she's doing okay and she appreciated the time her friends are putting on her to help her with this.

"if you wouldn't try, you wouldn't know right?" kitty spoke

she understood both of her friends suggestion to what to do, it's easy when you think about it but when you're actually there the aching feeling that slowly crawls up to her throat was getting her,

but she couldn't just sit there and wait because at some point he'll probably never try because he's focused on someone else.

cinnamon girl, is that what she is right now?

he's addicted on something and couldn't bring himself to care about her, anymore?

she wouldn't say that he completely shut her off his life, sometimes when they would run against each other, they would exchange glances but never would say a thing — sometimes during dinner the whole team would talk, then Logan would agree to her words — after missions Logan would check up the other people and she's one of them, but then she'll just smile and nod.

he's there, but not completely there.

she hated how casual it is for him to just walk pass by her, stand next to her like nothing happened, talk to jean as if she wasn't there.

this wasn't them numerous days ago, she's longing for it and it hurts so bad.

she just wanted to run away from it, but with him and jean being in the same roof as hers — it's so hard to find an excuse.

during dinner, she was so quiet as she was eating this whatever food it was — she couldn't even think straight, all of the people that surrounds her are laughing and she's just there drowning herself in a pool filled thoughts.

"right, (y/n)?" rogue chuckles nudging her arms which made her quickly looked around the people in the table, almost feeling like she just woke up in from daydream which made everyone around the table confused and exchange glances.

"yeah, yeah." she nodded awkwardly chuckling looking back at her food, kitty and rogue exchanging looks as if they already know the reason behind her behavior right now.

to fill the awkward atmosphere gambit created a joke making the whole table laugh again as if nothing happened, there she was so low in her food.

she glared around the people making sure their attention wasn't on hers because honestly it was that embarrassing, but then her eyes landed on Logan who quickly looked back.

no shit.

she glared back at her food and continue to finish it off so she could finally leave the table and rest.

on the other hand, Logan looked confused yet seem to already be puzzling the reasons why her behaviors like that right now.

later that night after the dinner, rogue and kitty said their goodnights to her and made their way to their rooms — while she was walking in the hall she was still lost of what's happening around her, she couldn't help but to think, think, and think.

out of nowhere she had this urge to stop walking, and yeah right.

Logan was in the hall too,making his way somewhere she doesn't know.

Logan also stopped his tracks and looked at her, both of their faces blank.

What do I do?

Should I?

she's fighting with herself inside, wether to approach him and talk about it or just once let it go.

her chest was rising heavily, it's visible and the tension right now is almost compacted as if there's no air.

"Logan."

"(y/n)."

both of their names slipped from each's lips on the same time — is he aware?

"can we talk? please." she exhales feeling the aching torns building up her throat once again, almost choking her — Logan nodded, she gave the somewhere private look and he shrugged agreeing with her.

You don't know how long I have wanted, to touch your lips and hold you tight. — You don't know how long I have waited, and I was going to tell you tonight.

they are in the balcony, with the cold wind feeding the almost dry atmosphere — she can't really explain what she felt but it's almost like she's trapped in a box and she's slowly exploding, it's an overwhelming feeling having him here.

she doesn't know how to start and he's just standing there waiting for her to say the words he needed to hear, she gulps and looked at him with her eyes reflecting the bright colors of the stars and moon.

"it's, about us." she finally spoke, her voice almost cracking through the words — she's fighting the urge not to cry right now, her chest just feels so heavy.

she can see in her eyes how Logan reacted when the word us slips from her lips, he knows that what she's talking about and if she's in the right state she would've plucked her mind to get under his to read whatever he's thinking right now.

he didn't respond, "Logan, what am I to you? Are you really going to shut me off like I was someone who you didn't know." she says with her fist tightening into a ball and her voice raising a little — frustration and pain.

"Logan, are you really going to act like this forever, like I wasn't here?" she says with a firm tone.

"are you really going to forget about what we had?"

"those kisses, sweet nothings, touch, and whatever the fuck it is!"

"(y/n)."

"don't fucking call me now, Logan, I am so fucking hurt." she says pointing at his chest out of frustration, she felt like exploding right now.

beads of tears was already slipping in her cheeks, her chest rising continuously.

he was dumbfounded, not being able to find the right words to defend himself — because it was true, it all happened and he couldn't just pretend that it didn't happened.

"tell me, those fucking things that we had is nothing to you!"

"that's not true."

"then why!" she sobs trying her best to keep her voice down, "Logan, why?"

"I don't know."

"what do you mean you don't know?" she sobs again feeling so frustrated, "Logan, I'm sure those things are easy to forget shit."

"if it's just fucking, flirting, comforting to you. Logan to me it's the real fucking thing, what do you call that again? Love?"

she never once wanted to admit that she's in love, she hated love, they both hated love and all this time they both believed that what they did is just nothing, something they can easily forget — sorry for breaking it to him, she fooled herself for thinking it's love.

"I never learned to care until I met you."

"I never learned to love until I met you." she says almost choking from her own spit as tears continuously pouring.

again, Logan couldn't bring himself to speak — it's not like he doesn't care to what's happening right now, he just didn't know this is what she felt all this time. He thought she felt the way he does, all of this are nonsense.

"I thought it was all nothing." he says back, "I thought you and I agreed that we're doing that no strings attached."

"but you said I love you, and I'm sorry clinged to that but I hoped." she quickly responded, "my mouth hasn't shut up about you since you kissed it. The idea that you may like me the way that I do was stuck in my brain, which hasn't stopped thinking about you since." she says with her voice cracking mid sentence.

"I didn't mean to make you feel that way, but you know we both agreed right? that we don't have something."

"and that was my mistake, but you couldn't just say you love me like it was nothing."

she still remembers it perfect in her head, she can still hear how he said it during sex, while they're just together, kissing her forehead and mumbles I love you before mission — it was all nothing?

"I just wished you could've told me before you," she pauses wiping her tears, in fact she couldn't even bring herself to say her name.

"you could've told me that before meeting Jean, because I felt like I'm some kind of toy that you got sicked of playing."

it was nothing but quiet for a few seconds but Logan cutted the silence as he attempted to explain for himself.

"I was the first person Jean got closed with and during that time you were nowhere to be found, maybe you're there but so far."

"I thought you didn't want me anymore."

she did, she did spaced away from him thinking he doesn't her anymore — it's her mistake for not talking this out ever since she felt jealous.

"but that's not a reason to completely shut me off, you could've ended whatever we are doing in a good way so I wouldn't hope anymore that you would still be knocking at my door, to talk to me." she added

they're are both standing at their own points.

she already felt tired at this moment and just wanted to cry her eyes out in her room and Logan was completely lost right now, conflicted between Her and Jean.

she already know that he wouldn't at least try to explain that he once loved her like she did, she's so dumb for even thinking about it.

"then I'm sorry, if that's what you wanted to hear."

why is he making it sound like she's demanding for an apology? she doesn't want to see him anymore, she's so miserable right now.

she sighs, she doesn't even know what to say now everything is messing up with her head, she already said what she have to say to him and it made her chest lighter now — but there's still an open wound in her heart right now.

"I love her, but I appreciated you."

and when she heard those words it felt like the world came crashing to her and continuously slaps her on the face, Logan then turned back, having himself looking back at her before walking way.

as much as she wanted to stop him, she thought it's for the best to let him be — it already happened, it's clear that he didn't want her from the start.

So this is it?

That's it?

Should I be happy that he appreciated me?

Logan could still here muffles and cries that night, he was in his bed trying to shake off the feeling — this weird feeling, he knew that he should be sorry but in the first place he thought both of them doesn't believe in love, he clinged into that.

He'd be lying if he didn't admit he didn't mean to say those words, those sweet nothings, and those love gestures — he was conflicted between the forming feelings for her and the fact that she once admitted that she doesn't believe in love.

so he stopped himself and found Jean, Jean wasn't so scared of showing her love and the slow burning start of their romance — if he knew that they're both in love from the start maybe he wouldn't be here in this bed right now remembering the words she have said.

he was a jerk and he knows that, but he it'll make things tougher if he admitted that he also felt something for her — it would be useless now that him and jean had this thing now, it'll hurt her more.

Last minute regret, he's going to carry this forever.

"I have to find my myself professor, I think this is just not for me." she mutters underneath her breath while looking at the man in front of her, Professor Charles Xavier.

she professor was dumbfounded for her sudden departure with the reason of she felt like what she's doing wasn't really for her — as much as professor x wanted to disagree because of her helpful abilities that put the team together, it's almost like him and her are alike, he couldn't bring himself to stop her.

there's this energy that tells him that she is in agony, a sense of lost, as if she was in grief — he didn't bother to read her mind, it feels too wrong especially when she look like this.

"if that what makes you happy, I am delighted to fully support your decision, I just wanted you to know that the door is open when you wanted to come back, (y/n)." the professor said with a grin on his face, which somehow sent her a sense of comfort.

"I am holding into that." she smiles, but she remembered something before going.

"please don't tell them, the only people who are aware are rogue and kitty, please?"

"as you wish."

and that she traveled where she can, wherever her feet brings her finding the peace that she wanted — she wanted to leave who she was, wanting her old self dead and forgotten.

as much as it hurts her, she wanted to space away not wanting to drown herself once again — maybe she really love him that much that she reached this point.

Logan was her first love, and she knows it's going to take a long time forgetting that face.

she changed everything about her from head to toes, cut and dyed her hair, attempted to find a new style which she successfully did and to forget everything in the past leaving them where they belong.

she found herself in Switzerland, wherein she built a flower shop and when she's not busy she'll be a part time teacher in preschool — with that being said, that's the same place she met her husband.

he always buys flowers in her shop for his mother who was sick, there he learned his interest towards her — Long story short, they got married and shared three children; James, Julien, and Peter.

and ever since she met her husband she forgot about Logan, not even thinking's where he is, how is he doing, if he is still actually alive — she never once think of him, even the school and her friends.

"Mommy! The school bus is here!" when she heard a familiar voice coming from down the attic she quickly stuffed the box and what it contains somewhere that wouldn't be found by any of the people inside this house except her, she wiped her tears and took a deep breath.

"I'm done, hold on." she says before grabbing a random photograph with Logan and tearing it apart quickly making her way down the attic, handing it to James as fast as possible.

"kids!" she calls out as she walk fast guiding the kids out of the house with the big yellow bus waiting outside.

:: additional note — LMK IF YOU WANTED THIS BUT LOGAN'S POV CUZ LIKE I FELT I DID LOGAN DIRTY WITH THIS ONE 🙏 THIS IS MY LONGEST FIC SO FAR 😭 I'M TIRED BYE.

ᯓ★ pixiesndberries 2024 ! i don't allow my work to be share in any platforms without my permission — REBLOGS, LIKES, AND FOLLOW ARE APPRECIATED !

[lilbluustar]

they don't know about us

pairing— idol!reader x idol!anton

content— fluff, drama, secret relationship, idol!au, forbidden love, slow burn, confession, first kiss, established relationship, angst with a happy ending, comfort, sm au, based on real feelings, weverse posts, hidden moments, public reveal, emotional rollercoaster.

note— woooow, this is the longest drabble i've written so far! 🫣 i really enjoyed writing something completely different from what i usually write hahahah, btw: i think i'll end up writing a drabble with every 1D song at this point, but hey! thanks to these i get quite a few ideas, hehehe

it all started with a casual conversation.

anton didn't know you personally, but he had seen you. several times, actually.

in the break room. walking around with your coffee in hand. rehearsing with your headphones on and your head down. Always discreet, always with that air of being in your own world.

and though he wouldn't admit it, there was something about you that left him wondering.

he kept looking at you.

until one day, Shotaro, with the subtlety of a train, came up to him and said:

"hey… y/n is amazing, you know?"

"y/n?"

"yeah, you should talk to her. seriously."

sohee, who was eating next to him, just mumbled with her mouth full:

"you literally make good vibes. you have the same kind of weird energy. match made in heaven."

“are you two conspiring to set me up with someone?” laughed Anton.

"not with someone. with her" they said in unison.

it was sungchan and shotaro who started pushing him in your direction. they talked to him about you as if you were a named miracle, as if missing the chance with you was the biggest mistake of his life. at first, he just laughed and said he didn't have time for that… but it was enough to cross you a couple of times in the corridors for him to realize that there was no escape. He already had you in his head.

after that, it was inevitable.

the next time he found you walking down the hallway, he dared to say hello. just that.

“hi.”

“hi” you replied, somewhat shyly.

but that was enough.

because from then on, his greetings became little shared moments.

a “how are you?”, a “did you have a lot of breakfast today?”, a “do you want something to drink?”, a “i like your sweatshirt”.

each one warmer than the last.

the first outing was a “not a date” disguised as a coincidence.

“let's some of us go eat tteokbokki near the studio, are you up for it?” sohee asked you, but you already knew who else was going to be there.

and yes, there was anton. quieter than usual, with his cheeks a little red every time you looked at him.

they talked little. you laughed more. and as you said goodbye, he said to you:

"next time… we could go just the two of us. if you want."

your heart skipped a beat.

you said yes.

the first few dates were as sweet as they were awkward.

a hidden coffee shop where you ordered things that you couldn't pronounce.

a movie in a theater where there were barely five people.

a night walking along the banks of the Han River, just talking about dreams and fears.

places where no one could recognize the both of you.

sometimes you didn't even talk much. you would just stare at each other, nervously, as if each smile could break the air.

he listened to you as if you were a song.

and you looked at him as if you wanted to learn it by heart.

with each encounter, you grew closer.

shoulders brushed. hands trembled.

then came the walks at night, the eternal conversations by message, the hands that sought each other without wanting to.

it was late that night, but you were in no hurry.

they were in a small practice room shared by some groups, just after one of those eternal days of rehearsal. the lights were dim, and the city flickered through the window as if it, too, was breathing calmly.

you were sitting cross-legged on the floor, drinking water, while he looked at you from the mirror, still not taking off his sweat-soaked hoodie. you talked about everything and nothing. about the weather, about your new playlist, about how anton had been learning to cook because he “couldn't live on ramen anymore.”

“you know?” he said suddenly, breaking a comfortable silence. “sometimes i feel like with you i can be me without putting on any masks.”

your heart skipped a beat.

you looked at him, saying nothing at first. You just swallowed saliva.

“and that scares me” he added, looking down for a moment, with a nervous smile. “because i care about you more than i thought i was ever going to care about anyone here.”

you moved a bit closer, without thinking. you were sitting next to him already, but that time your knees touched his.

he looked up and you met there, at that exact spot where you didn't need to talk anymore.

“can i kiss you?” he asked, softly.

and you… you just nodded. with red cheeks, but without looking away.

it was smooth.

short.

like he was tasting something he'd been imagining for months.

and when he broke away, they both laughed softly, nervously, like two teenagers who had just stolen something from the moon.

but it didn't end there.

days later, anton invited you to a nice restaurant, he brought you a bouquet of flowers and you ended up in a gazebo, he was weird, more serious than usual, until suddenly he took your hand in his, playing with your fingers, and then he looked at you again.

“i don't want this to stay just a kiss.”

"no?"

"no. i want to be the one who makes you smile every day. i want… you to be my girlfriend. if you want to, of course."

your response was to stay silent for a moment-just long enough for his heart to clench-and then you hugged him. tightly. as if he had just given you the place you didn't know you needed.

you hesitated.

not because you didn't feel it, but because you were afraid.

afraid of the world.

of the cameras.

of the consequences.

“if i want to, but i don't want anyone to know...” you told him one night, your hands trembling between his. "at least for now. just your friends and mine. no one else."

“then it will be our secret, your rhythm is mine.” he answered you, with a tenderness that made you fall harder for him.

he broke away a little to look at you, and nodded with one of those smiles that sticks to your skin.

and from that night on, anton was not only the boy who made you laugh, but also the most beautiful secret you kept in your heart.

and so, you became sweethearts.

a secret courtship.

made of messages that said “did you arrive well?”, “you look pretty today”, “i miss you”.

since then, the relationship has been a constant game of glances in hallways, when they pass by each other, brushing hands for a second. and when you were in the same performance or backstage, their gazes cross with tenderness and complicity.

“casual” rehearsals that magically overlap, sometimes at the same time, even in the same room if they can convince their managers that sharing space is more “efficient”.

always managed to coordinate their breaks to coincide. and in those 15-30 minutes, you would hide out on the roof of the building or in an empty room where they would sit together on the floor, share a drink and fool around, sometimes just look at each other, hold hands.

would leave notes on paper hidden in their jackets or gear, when you went to rehearse, you would find a note inside your hoodie: “i dreamt about you today, baby.”

when he went to get his drumsticks or his mic, he would find something written from you on the tape: "do awesome, toni. “

anton would also leave a post-it on your locker with things like ”it was beautiful yesterday, baby“ or ”i'll wait for you at the exit, floor 3". you answer him with stickers of little hearts and little bad drawings that he keeps in his wallet.

their safe place; the little prop room, no one would go in there. it's dark, smells like old cardboard, but it's theirs. there you kissed, laughed, cried. it's like their mini world inside the chaos

where you could pretend the world didn't exist. you were experts at disappearing together and reappearing as if nothing had happened. If anyone suspected, they said nothing.

but, over the months, you began to let their guard down.

it wasn't intentional.

it was love.

love that overflowed and could no longer be hidden.

it was becoming more and more evident. your friends didn't even ask questions anymore, they just smiled. and you… you were beginning to think that maybe you didn't want to hide it forever.

and then… it happened.

BACKSTAGE - BREAK ROOM, 11:37PM.

after the dress rehearsal, the staff had almost finished packing up. most of the team had left, and there were only a few left hanging around the place. you had snuck out looking for a moment with anton, and found him in the small break room on the third floor, where nobody usually went at that time.

you walked in without saying anything, just with that complicit look on your face. Anton smiled at the sight of you and immediately hugged you tightly, as if he hadn't seen you in weeks, when only hours had passed.

“you don't know how much i missed you today” he murmured, hiding his face in your neck.

“but we saw each other earlier” you replied, laughing softly as you wrapped your arms around him.

"it's not enough. it's never enough with you."

his words melted you. he sat you on his lap and you stayed in each other's arms, swaying gently as if dancing to a silent song. the air was charged with something warm and dangerous. and slowly, the kisses began to appear: one on your cheek, then on your forehead, then on your lips. short. then long. then... more intense.

anton caressed your waist tenderly, but soon his hands began to move up your back and down a little further to your butt, squeezing it and exploring it with restrained desire. you let out a nervous giggle as he whispered something in your ear that made your heart race and his kisses were beginning to descend on your neck, making you shiver.

“Anton... they might see us” you said, barely in a whisper, but not moving away.

"they're all downstairs...just a little while longer, baby" he said hoarsely, gluing his lips to yours again.

were so lost in their own little universe that they didn't hear the approaching footsteps.

the door burst open.

“anton, did you leave you...?” a voice interrupted by the visual impact.

they both froze. literally. you still had your hands inside his shirt over anton's chest, and he was still holding you by your ass. your faces were millimeters apart, lips still swollen, your gazes terrified.

on the other side of the door: a staff member, with a folder in hand and an expression of absolute horror, shock and a touch of “i'm going to pretend i didn't see this.”

the silence was as awkward as it was long.

“...i ... this i didn't see, okay?” the staff member said, slowly backing away.

“WAIT!” exclaimed Anton, pulling away from you but still holding your hand. “we can explain.”

but it was too late. the staff had already almost run off. you felt his stomach drop to the floor, cheeks burning, heart galloping.

“do you think he's going to tell us anything?” you asked, your voice trembling.

"i don't know. but if you do..." anton squeezed her hand. "i'm not letting go of you. no matter what."

looked at him. And in her eyes, there was fear, yes... but also that security that only Anton knew how to give her.

“if this leaks... i guess we'll have to come up with a plan.”

“or tell the truth.”

"just like that?"

"yes. because i don't want to hide you anymore, y/n."

but you and Anton stood there, your hearts beating a mile a minute.

You knew it wasn't going to stay there.

and you were right.

the next day you were called in to talk.

MANAGEMENT OFFICE - THE NEXT DAY, 3:02PM

kept shaking your leg under the table. although you tried to keep your face calm, your fingers intertwined with anton's betrayed your anxiety. He, on the other hand, seemed calm… but only because he didn't want you to feel worse. In reality, your stomach was in knots.

in front of you, two managers, one from Anton's team and one from yours, exchanged uncomfortable glances, sharing silences that said it all.

"so…“ one of them began, resting his hands on the desk, ”are you going to tell us what you were doing in that break room?

Anton opened his mouth to speak, but you spoke first.

"we were kissing," you said, bluntly.

the silence was absolute.

"mmm… well, it looked like something else was going on," the other manager muttered, looking at the staff report that had discovered them. "but we wanted to hear it from you. how long has this been going on?"

you looked down, but Anton squeezed your hand and replied:

"almost a year."

both managers blinked, dumbfounded.

"a year? and no one knew?"

"we kept it a secret… very carefully" you added. “it never affected the job or our responsibilities.”

“until now.”

the sentence fell like lead. but Anton didn't shrink.

"we know it was a mistake to hide it for so long, but we don't regret being together. we just wanted to protect what was ours."

there was a moment's pause. one of the managers sighed, dropping his shoulders.

"look, we're not dumb. we noticed things...glances, coordinated absences, escapades during off hours. but we never had proof. until now."

you fell silent, holding your breath.

“we didn't want it to happen like this, but we're not afraid to admit it anymore.”

anton looked at you as if the whole world came down to her in that moment.

“i love her,” he said, with absolute calm. "i don't care if it changes things. i don't want to hide it anymore."

the air grew thick, but the managers exchanged a resigned look. there wasn't much to hide anymore.

“the communications department will decide whether they make a statement or not,” one of them said as he stood up." but be that as it may... there was no turning back now.

anton and you got up as well. just as they were about to leave, your manager added:

"and for what it's worth... you look happy. just make sure you do it right."

ROAD HOME - 6:47PM

the car was silent. not because they didn't want to talk, but because they didn't know where to start.

you were looking out the window, watching the city tint with the last rays of the sun. your eyes were a little glassy, but you hadn't cried. not yet. Anton had one hand on the steering wheel and the other… reaching for yours.

"are you all right? he asked, barely a whisper."

you nodded without looking at him, but he wasn't satisfied. he stopped the car on a quiet street, turned off the engine and turned to you with the most sincere eyes in the world.

you turned your face slowly, and as soon as their gazes met, he caressed your cheek with a gentleness that made your soul tremble.

"i don't want you to be afraid," anton murmured. "you can't imagine how much it hurt me to hide you. having to pretend you were just a friend when all i wanted was to scream to the world that you were mine."

closed your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. when you opened them, the tears were already there.

"sometimes i felt like we were never going to have this moment," you whispered. "that this was just a dream. but now… i'm afraid that we'll get hurt. that this will ruin everything."

anton shook his head and leaned towards her, resting his forehead against yours.

“no one's going to ruin it,” he said firmly, "because we're not going to let you ruin it. i love you, y/n. from the first rehearsal where we pretended we didn't know each other, from every hidden message, every stolen smile... no matter what comes, we face it together, okay?"

you didn't respond. you just kissed him. slow, long, with all the weight of what they had contained for almost a year. And he reciprocated as if his life depended on that kiss.

their lips parted just a little and anton smiled, lowering his voice.

"you know what the craziest thing is?"

"what?"

"that now i can kiss you without looking to see if there's a camera nearby."

you laughed softly, wiping your cheeks awkwardly. he put both arms around you, making her lay her head on his chest while he stroked her hair.

"i promise you we'll be fine," he whispered, ”i swear it."

and there, in that bubble of peace, they finally breathed. as if everything they had been silent about finally had room to bloom.

that same night, the official statement was soon released.

[OFFICIAL RELEASE - SM ENTERTAINMENT]

April 05, 2025

Hello.

We are SM Entertainment.

We are writing to address a situation that has recently come to our attention. Upon internal review, we have confirmed that two of our artists, Anton (RIIZE) and y/n (solo artist under SM), have been romantically involved for some time.

We understand that this information may have come as a surprise to fans, as both artists decided to keep their relationship private out of respect for their careers, their groups and the fandom. However, due to a situation that occurred inside our facilities, in which they were spotted by a staff member, we feel it is important to be transparent with the public and confirm the facts.

Both artists have expressed to us that their relationship is serious and has developed with maturity, commitment and professionalism. The decision to go public has not been taken lightly, but after considering the situation and listening to their voices, we decided to support them.

We ask all fans and the public to respect their privacy and continue to show the love and support they have always given them.

Thank you.

SM Entertainment.

the nets collapsed.

you had the need to say something about it, so you got up the courage and started writing with your heart in your hand.

[WEVERSE - Y/N]

hi everyone.

this is y/n, and i want to write this from a very sincere place.

i know many of you have already seen the company's announcement... and yes, it's true. anton and i have been together for almost a year now. it wasn't easy to keep it a secret, but we did it because we wanted to protect something that has become the most beautiful thing that has happened to us.

it was never out of shame, nor to hide something bad. it was to take care of us, to take care of what we were building. but now that you know, we don't want to lie or hide anymore.

anton is someone who came into my life with light, patience, tenderness and a love that makes me feel safe every day. we have shared laughter, tears, tired trials, long nights and many dreams... and still, we never stopped choosing each other.

we know this may be hard for some to take in, but we also trust that many of you will support us, as you always have. we ask for nothing but respect and understanding.

we are still the same artists who love what we do, and now we simply... love each other too.

thank you for reading this far.

thank you for understanding.

with all my love,

y/n.

a few minutes later, Anton posted something too.

[WEVERSE - ANTON]

hi, this is anton.

i know that for many this news was unexpected, and i want to take a moment to speak to you with all the sincerity it deserves.

yes, it's true. y/n and i have been in a relationship for almost a year now. we decided to keep it private because it was something very precious to us, something we wanted to take care of and protect from outside noise. it wasn't easy, but it was real. and it still is.

y/n is an amazing person. not only as an artist, but as a human being. her heart, her strength, her way of seeing life... i fall in love with her every day. and no, i don't want to keep hiding someone who makes me so happy.

i know some of you may be surprised or even upset, and i understand that. but i also hope many of you can see what's behind it: two people who truly love each other.

i choose her, and she chooses me. every day.

thank you for all the love you always give us.

thank you for respecting us, for supporting us, and for allowing us to be ourselves.

with love,

anton.

the news blew up like a bomb on social media. no one saw it coming, and the fact that they hid it for almost a year left everyone speechless.

fans of both were split between shock, excitement, and a wave of support. many started remembering little hints: shared glances, subtle gestures in interviews, matching outfits… things that now made TOTAL sense.

some fans, the more intense ones, began gathering evidence: clothes yn wore that looked like Anton’s, subtle hints in their lyrics, or days when they both looked extra happy for no apparent reason. suddenly, everything made sense.

most people celebrated the brave, genuine, and beautiful love they shared, cheering them on for defending it publicly with so much confidence and tenderness. fan comments on weverse after the statement:

“y/n, we’re so proud of you. You two deserve all the happiness in the world.” “Anton, thank you for loving her right. We can see it in your eyes.” “You guys didn’t have to tell us, but you did. And that honesty means the world.”

COMMENTS ON TWITTER/X AND WEVERSE:

“wait… ANTON AND YN HAVE BEEN TOGETHER FOR ALMOST A YEAR??? and WE HAD NO IDEA??? the best actors, literally.”

“anton used to smile different around her AND NOW WE KNOW WHY”

“yn and anton saying ‘we hope for your support’ after hiding it for a year?? power couple behavior”

“not me crying because they were so in love they couldn’t hide it anymore”

“sm staff discovering them was the best thing that could’ve happened tbh”

“the fact that he called her ‘incredible’ and said he chooses her every day?? i’m losing it.”

“you can see how in love anton is… yn, i envy you (in the sweetest way). give him lots of kisses from us LOL.”

“this feels like when your parents tell you they’ve loved each other since they were young and kept it a secret… ICONIC.”

“how did they survive hiding it for almost a year??? i can’t even last five minutes without telling someone i like them.”

“who was the staff member that found out about them? i just wanna talk (and thank them).”

“no one cares that they’re idols, what matters is that they look this happy. i support them 100%.”

“YOOO??? THEY WERE DATING THIS WHOLE TIME???”

“iconic statement, iconic couple, iconic relationship.”

@sunlightforyn: “these statements are more romantic than any fanfic i’ve ever read in my life.”

@antonismybf: “them: hiding their relationship for a year me, watching their weird little moments since 2024: suspicious silence”

@softcorecouple: “i love that you can tell it was a relationship full of genuine love and care. like they really protected each other. that gives me peace.”

@kfanupdates: “someone PLEASE make a thread of all the times yn wore anton’s clothes, because there’s legit proof from MONTHS ago”

VIRAL EDIT ON TIKTOK:

clips of yn wearing Anton’s hoodie + him looking at her like she hung the moon.

fancam of both on stage at different events, catching subtle smiles when they pass each other

POV video titled: “me reading the statements like I’m the main character in a romance drama”

background sound: people sobbing dramatically.

most reactions were overwhelmingly positive—fans welcomed the news with full hearts, celebrating the love and bravery of both of them. but, as expected, not everyone agreed. a few people voiced their anger and disappointment online, posting comments trying to dim the moment. still, with so much excitement, support, and joy flooding the timeline, those negative remarks quickly got lost in the wave of love surrounding Anton and yn.

that night, after everything became public, after reading hundreds of messages —some crying with emotion, others surprised that they had suspected it for months—, you snuggled next to Anton on the couch in his bedroom, with a shared blanket and a soft playlist playing softly.

the warm light from his lamp fell over the edges of his face, and you just looked at him, as if you still didn't believe you didn't have to hide anything anymore.

"you know?" you murmured, your voice soft as you ran your fingers along his wrist. "sometimes i thought this was going to blow up... that we wouldn't last because of all the stress, because of what we had to hide. but look at us."

Anton looked at you with a tired but smitten smile, then kissed your forehead.

"i knew you were worth it. even if i had to hide a thousand smiles, a thousand urges to hold your hand in the hallways... you were worth all of that."

you both laughed softly, as if they were still in that first rehearsal where it all began.

"what now?" you asked, snuggling closer. there are no more secrets. No more fear.

he hugged you tight, his chin on your head.

"now we live this... in our own way. no rush. no masks. just you and me. and if the world looks at us... let it look at us in love."

and so, in his arms, you closed your eyes knowing that in spite of everything, in the end all that mattered was that: the love you had nurtured in silence, could now shine without hiding.