#maybe i should skip everything all together and do a coffee shop instead

[ptrckjcne]

me: im going to be productive today, spend time on the canals and get lots of photos

also me: absentmindedly find myself wandering in the direction of the red light district

[jenoismydad]

2 + 3 = You In Me

◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦

Pairing: Tutor!Jaemin x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut (pwp), Slight Angst, College AU

Words: 4.6k+

Warnings: 18+ content. Unprotected sex.

Synopsis: He agrees to tutor you and you end up becoming good friends even though you both so clearly want to be more. What happens when you let you bodies talk for you?

◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦

Jaemin was coming over to help you prepare for a test. You had no clue how he'd agreed to assist you, but you were thankful nonetheless. Jaemin rarely ever studied with girls. Mostly because they were always hitting on him. But it seemed you were an exception. You wondered why but you figured it was because he was trying to make some extra money.

Yes, Jaemin made you pay him. He made everyone pay him so you didn't think too much of it. From what you'd heard, his methods never failed to prove effective. You hoped he could help you study well enough to pass this test. After all, a majority of your grade depended on it.

You'd spent a good amount of your time trying to prepare a nice study space for you both to sit at in your apartment. So far you'd only managed to clean your coffee table and place two cushions for seats at its feet.

Jaemin would be here any minute. You rushed to get everything you'd need for the day, wanting to keep it all ready so that you wouldn't have to interrupt the study session. Your bell rang not soon after. He was here on time.

Opening the door, you welcomed him with a smile. He nodded and entered without a word. Black track pants and a plain white shirt. Jaemin hadn't made much of an effort to dress to impress. He ventured into your dorm, looking around the place silently.

That's when he came across your makeshift study zone. He pointed at it and looked at you.

"We're studying here," he asked, placing his hands in his pockets. He sounded a tad bit dejected. Your eyes widened slightly in panic. Was he not comfortable with sitting on the floor? "Yeah, I figured. Is there a problem," you asked, fearing the worst for no reason. Jaemin shook his head. "Nope, I just thought we were gonna sit in your room. That's where most of the girls take me anyways," he revealed, flashing you a small grin. You immediately felt at ease.

"My room's kind of a mess at the moment," you admitted, joining him near your couch. He took a seat on the floor, placing the cushion behind his back instead. He cleaned his black-rimmed glasses and patted the space next to himself. "Let's get started."

Jaemin was a pro at breaking down the complex concept so that your pea-sized brain could understand it to the fullest. The only drawback with that method was that it took much longer than you'd like it to. Two hours later you'd only finished one of the chapters that would be coming for the test. You still had four more to go.

"Fuck it's already three o'clock," you complained, falling dramatically on the coffee table. Jaemin flipped his pen in his fingers and stretched his body with a yawn. "I don't mind staying overtime," he joked. He'd made a lot of humoring comments during your time with him. The last you'd heard, he tended to be quite serious, never straying from his purpose. Not that you minded or anything, but Jaemin wasn't really meeting the expectations everyone had set for him in your mind. Maybe they were just trying to intimidate you.

"Don't you have to study too," you asked, turning your head to glance at him. He looked at you and shook his head. "I already studied beforehand. Plus, this test's gonna be super easy. You pass it with a breeze," he admitted. As relieving as that sounded, you didn't wanna take any chances. What if he flunked the test because he didn't revise or something. You really didn't want to be the person he blamed when that happened.

"You don't have to stay for my sake. You can go home if you want to. I think I can manage on my own now." you flipped through the pages of your coursebook, sighing in despair. It was a lot to go through. At least you still had half the day left.

Jaemin folded his arms. "Don't worry about me y/n. Not to undermine you, but I don't think you can get through all of this by yourself. I mean, you barely managed to understand the basics. All those chapters just branch off from this one and get increasingly tough to learn."

If this was him trying to convince you to let him stay then it sure as hell was working. You groaned and sat back up. "You promise you won't fail the test because of me then?" Jaemin chuckled. "Of course not. I'll pass with flying colors."

So you resumed studying. Jaemin was right. What he taught you next was more confusing than the first chapter you'd covered. You regretted not paying attention during your lectures. Jaemin never got impatient with you. In fact, he took ample time to make sure you understood everything he explained to you. He was very thorough and you appreciated that. However the more knowledge you absorbed, the more exhausted you felt. It got to the point where you felt like you couldn't study any further. Jaemin then suggested that you take a small break. You couldn't have agreed faster.

"Once we're done you should go through the practice questions that I emailed you," Jaemin reminded, taking a sip of the soda you'd offered him. You gave him a thumbs up and fell on the ground. "You're a lifesaver Na Jaemin."

Jaemin chuckled and turned to you. "I'm guessing it's not just math that you're having a problem with."

You raised your head and narrowed your eyes at him. "Nicely deduced."

"We can get together to study together for your other subjects if you don't mind. No need to pay me either," he offered.

You furrowed your brows. "Jaemin the longer you spend teaching me the dumber you're gonna get."

He brushed you off. "I'm pretty sure it doesn't work like that."

"You never know, and besides, after today you should know that it's gonna take five hundred years to clear all my concepts. Do you even have that kind of time?"

Jaemin tilted his soda can at you. "You'd be surprised at how much free time I have on my hands."

You smiled. "Wait so you're actually agreed to be my personal tutor."

Jaemin rolled his eyes amusedly. "It was my proposition but yes. I wouldn't be your personal tutor though. Just a study partner."

You sat up and leaned back. "So like, studying in the library after class and stuff like that?"

He nodded. "If the library's closed we can come here or I can take you to my place."

You pursed your lips, considering his deal. But something paused your train of thoughts. "Wait a minute. Why are you asking me this all of a sudden? You hardly seem like the type of guy who'd study with someone else."

Jaemin downed his drink, wincing at the fizziness that clawed at his throat. "I've had fun studying with you so far. Like, you're genuinely dumb, unlike some other people I tutor who just pretend to be dumb so they can spend a few hours with me."

You raised a brow. Had he just called you dumb? "I'll try not to take offense, thank you very much."

Jaemin apologized with a laugh.

"Does it make you feel smarter in some type of way," you asked? Jaemin hummed in response. "It kinda does now that you mention it. But I also feel like it would help me revise and clear my own concepts at the same time."

That made sense. "Damn, and here I was thinking you wanted to do this cause you were interested in me."

Jaemin's eyes widened. You raised your hands in defense. "It's just a joke. Don't take it seriously," you assured. Jaemin relaxed at that.

"Let's get started again. We're almost halfway there," he said, changing the topic. You agreed and sat beside him again, pen in hand, ready to go.

_

You walked out of your lecture with a bright smile on your face and headed straight to the library. Sure enough, Jaemin was already sitting there, waiting for you patiently. You sent him a small wave and skipped over to him. Handing him your graded test paper, you watched excitedly as his eyes lit up.

"Oh my god. You passed!"

You squealed and sat next to him, placing your bag near your feet. Jaemin smiled up at you. "This is such a good score," he added, glad that he'd been able to help.

"Henceforth we're studying together for every single test. I don't care if you're sick or at a friend's house."

Jaemin laughed and nodded. "Sure thing. If it means seeing you this happy then I'm down."

You froze at his words, glancing towards him. He clearly didn't seem to realize what he'd just said. Maybe you'd heard wrong. It was possible. After all, he was whispering. You didn't exactly have the best track record when it came to listening anyways. Concluding that you were mistaken, you pulled out your books and got to finishing up your assignments.

A few hours later Jaemin and you exited the library. You both usually parted ways since your dorms were in the opposite direction. However today, Jaemin followed behind you.

"What are you doing," you asked when he jogged up next to you. "We should celebrate your achievement today," he suggested. That sounded nice. "Okay then, what do you propose we should do?"

Jaemin pondered on your question. "Let's go to the cafe. I'll buy you coffee and anything else you want."

Coffee was perfect. You nodded and agreed. Jaemin grinned and led you to a small cafe that was just a little outside campus.

You both entered the small shop, the tantalizing scent of coffee hitting your senses immediately. Even though it was almost lunchtime, the cafe was brimming with multitudes of students. Luckily, the queue was short.

"Go find us somewhere nice to sit. I'll buy us some drinks," Jaemin said, pulling out his phone. Before you left, you let him know what you'd like.

Venturing to the back of the cafe, you found a secluded booth for two. It faced a large window, one that gave a fantastic view of the campus. You took a seat and placed your bag next to you. After a couple minutes of waiting, Jaemin emerged with your drinks in hand. He handed you yours before sitting down.

"Iced Americano? I see you're into the classics," you chimed, deciding to spark up a conversation. Jaemin took a sip of his drink. "Simple is the best after all."

Of course, it was. "Hey Jaemin," you started, setting your drink down on the table. He hummed. "Do you wanna come over later today," you asked. Jaemin furrowed his brows. "But we already finished studying."

You shook your head. "Not to study. Let's hang out, maybe watch a movie or something like that."

He seemed a bit taken aback, but nothing too alarming. It was just that you two never really did anything other than study together. Sure enough, you'd become close because of it. But you figured as friends, there were other things you could engage in to pass the time.

"Let's do it. What time should I come over," Jaemin asked? "Does seven work for you? I'll order pizza, so you don't need to worry about dinner."

Jaemin nodded. "Seven works for me."

_

As soon as the clock struck seven, there was a knock on your door. The ever punctual Jaemin would never be a second late. You let him in, eager to get your night started. He walked into your dorm and went straight to your room, plopping down on your bed as if it were his own.

You'd already been browsing on Netflix, wondering what genre he liked. It had never come up in conversation before so you didn't really know.

"What are we watching," he asked, scrolling through the options. You shrugged and joined him on your bed. "I'm not sure. I didn't know what you like," you admitted.

"I usually just watch whatever's in the top ten or 'new this week'," he shared. He stopped at a movie you would never have believed he'd be interested in.

"You wanna watch Yes Day," you asked in disbelief? Jaemin giggled and nodded innocently. "It looks super lame but I've already finished watching everything," he revealed. Here you were thinking you both would watch something more serious instead of a family movie. Instead of spending forty minutes trying to settle on one movie, you decided it best to just go with the first choice.

Jaemin started the movie and leaned back beside you. It was quiet between you both for the most part. You watched the movie in silence. It wasn't as entertaining as you'd thought it would be, but Jaemin seemed to be engrossed in it so you chose to say nothing and continued staring at the screen.

Halfway into the movie, Jaemin stifled a yawn and fell to the side, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He looked at you and pointed to the screen. "Are we gonna keep watching this?"

You let out a breath of relief and exited out of the movie once and for all. "If you didn't like it why'd you make me watch it," you complained, shutting your laptop. Jaemin sat up and crossed his legs. "I thought you were enjoying it. You even laughed at the funny parts."

You stuck your chin out. "You should know what my fake laugh sounds like by now Jaemin." He raised his hands in defense. "The only time I hear you laugh is when you realize you're doing something wrong."

You tsked. "That's called nervous laughter genius. You suck at interpreting emotions."

He hit you with a pillow softly. "Hey, stop making me out for a robot."

"You're the human embodiment of the AI," you joked, dodging the pillow he swung at you. Raising your hands in defense, you shielded yourself from him. "At least I said you're intelligent."

Jaemin paused his attacks. "You're lucky I think you're cute. I'll let you off the hook for now."

You had another one of those moments where you froze, wondering if the words that had come out of his mouth were true or not. He didn't whisper this time. You'd heard everything word for word. But you couldn't believe it.

"Did you just call me cute?"

Jaemin nodded, not seeming too surprised about it. "You aren't not cute," he added. Maybe you were misinterpreting the meaning behind it. Friends called friends cute. It was normal. That didn't mean that they liked each other, did it?

Noticing the conflict in your expression, Jaemin leaned forward and cleared his throat. "I didn't mean it in an 'I have a crush on you' type of way."

Something about that made your stomach churn. You felt uneasy all of a sudden. You wanted to be relieved, that he didn't think of you as more than a friend. But a part of you wished he felt otherwise. You didn't know why, it just did.

You chuckled awkwardly and faced him. "Yeah, of course, you didn't. I don't know why I thought that."

Jaemin hummed and rested his chin on his palm. "Maybe because you wanted it to be true."

"Huh?"

"Maybe you wanted me to tell you that I like you."

You didn't know what to say to that. So you just smiled awkwardly. "But you don't, do you?"

Jaemin grinned. "Do you want me to?"

"No! Of course not, why would I-"

"I'm just messing with you y/n. Don't worry, we're just friends," he assured, finding you getting alarmed quite amusing. You hit his shoulder. "Don't joke around like that. Who knows what might happen."

Jaemin's laughter died down. He met your gaze sombrely. You knew he wanted to say something, but he remained silent. His eyes traveled down to your lips for a moment. You sucked in a breath, suddenly feeling giddy. Jaemin looked back into your eyes, this time with a small smile. You didn't know what he was doing. You also didn't know if you liked it or not. Your mind said one thing and your body said another. Jaemin subtly licked his lips. You had no clue why the action had such a devastating effect on you.

Before you knew it, your lips were on his. Jaemin didn't seem surprised at all. In fact, he relaxed and snaked his arm around your waist, pulling your body onto his. He fell back on your mattress, bringing you on top of him. Straddling his lap, you placed your hands on either side of his head, kissing him with vigor. Jaemin groaned against your mouth, the sound sending warm shivers down your back. His lips were softer than you thought they'd be and he tasted faintly of coffee.

His hands slipped under your shirt, resting on your skin. His touch felt fiery hot. You rolled your hips over his lap impulsively, biting his both lip as a throaty groan left his mouth. He squeezed your waist and trailed his hands down to your ass.

Before things could escalate, however, your bell rang. You both stilled, separating from each other. When your eyes met, you scrambled off of him and sat at the edge of your bed, completely stunned. Jaemin rubbed his face and sat up as well, not really knowing what to say. The bell rang again, snapping you out of your daze. "I'll go get that," you muttered disorientedly, leaving Jaemin in your room. He nodded and stood up. "Actually, I'm gonna go," he said, leaving your room before you could say anything. You heard the door open and shut soon after. Your bell rang again.

You went to open your door. A delivery guy stood before you, hands empty with a confused look on his face. "The guy that just left took the pizza with him. He said that you'd pay for it." You couldn't believe it. Nonetheless, you paid the man and shut your door. What had just happened?

_

A few days passed after the incident at your dorm. Jaemin hadn't called or texted you and in all honesty, you hadn't made an attempt to contact him. You felt too embarrassed to face him. After all, it was you who'd gone onto him. Even if he didn't push you away it wasn't like either of you had agreed to start making out. You were anxious because you knew you'd ruined your friendship with him.

A part of you missed him. You enjoyed spending time with him, even though all you did was study. Everything was so bleak now that he wasn't around to humor you.

You didn't want to regret whatever had happened that night. It was amazing. You just wished it hadn't ended the way it did. You should have understood that he indeed was joking. Instead, you mistook his prodding for sarcasm.

It made no sense for you to not speak to him. You wanted to make amends, figure out what had gone wrong. But you were scared he'd ignore you. That would just make you feel worse than you already did.

So you passed the days, wafting in your own misery. Pitying yourself as if the entire weight of the world had been thrown on your shoulders.

Little did you know that all it would take was another shitty test score for you to pick up your phone and call Jaemin.

"Help me study," you said as soon as he answered the call. Jaemin was silent on the other end. "Don't just listen to me. Say something," you begged. Your heart felt heavy. You heard him sigh. "I'd rather not y/n." You got goosebumps. "Jaemin, please. We can go to fucking library if that makes you feel better," you suggested, desperate for him to agree. After giving it some thought he finally answered you. "Okay fine. Tomorrow at three. But no longer than three hours."

He hung up, leaving you feeling a tad bit better. You looked forward to the next day. Hopefully, he wouldn't act indifferent to you.

_

Jaemin sat in your usual spot at the library. He was on his phone, leg crossed over his lap leisurely. You walked up to him and took a seat beside him without a word. Seeing you had arrived, he put his phone away and turned to you. "What are we studying?"

You took out your books and opened them. "This."

Jaemin glanced over the material. No wonder you'd flunked your test. He sighed, placing the textbook between you two. Without wasting a second, he began tutoring you.

No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't pay attention. You were too busy staring at his face, more specifically his lips. They way he'd lick them ever so often made butterflies soar in your stomach. He'd run his hand through his fluffy hair and adjust his glasses, letting your mind run wild. Jaemin didn't seem to notice your lack of focus. You figured he didn't really care. He kept glancing at his watch. It was like he was waiting for your time with him to come to an end.

Much to your dismay, eventually it did.

"I'll send you a picture of some practice material. You can use that to prepare better," he concluded, getting up from his seat. You quickly stuffed your books in your bag and ran after him.

"Jaemin wait!"

He paused. "What," he asked as he turned around. He sounded disinterested. "Can we talk," you asked? Jaemin sighed and shrugged. "What do you wanna talk about," he questioned, placing his hands in his pockets. "About what happened at my place last week."

Jaemin tensed up. "It was a mistake. I think we both understood that."

You shook your head. "I don't know Jaemin, I'm not sure I did."

He furrowed his brows. "What do you mean?"

"The more I thought about it the more I realized that I wouldn't have kissed you unless I wanted to. Not just that but you wouldn't have let it go so far if you thought it was wrong."

He seemed at a loss for words.

"When you called me cute, you did mean it in an 'I have a crush on you' type of way." You didn't need an answer for him to know you were correct.

"What are you trying to say y/n," he asked, sounding defeated.

"That I like you," you admitted. Jaemin's eyes widened. "And that you like me too," you added.

Jaemin bit his lip. "Okay, so then why were we acting like we hated each other for so long?"

You shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe because you overthink everything and I'm a big pussy."

Jaemin chuckled and slung his arm around your shoulder. "I'm sorry about that babe."

You cringed at the nickname. "Don't 'babe' me. We're not dating. Not yet."

Jaemin rolled his eyes. "Does it really need to be that formal?"

You nodded adamantly. "Of course it does."

He sighed. "Fine. Will you go out with me y/n?"

You smiled and shook your head. "I'd rather not Jaemin."

"Yeah whatever," he said with a scoff, leading you outside.

_

As soon as you were past your door Jaemin's lips were on yours in an instant. He pushed you against the wall, wrapping your legs around his waist. You held onto his shoulders, sighing into his mouth. "I missed you so fucking much," he muttered, stumbling to your room.

He dropped you on your bed and hovered over you, staring down at you somberly before kissing you again. His lips didn't stay on yours for too long, trailing down to your jaw and then your neck. You tugged at his shirt, urging him to take it off. When he did, you stared at his chiseled body in awe. "I didn't know you worked out."

Jaemin chuckled at your comment and pulled your own shirt off. He flicked the tiny bow on your bra with an amused grin. "This is cute."

You nudged his arm timidly. "I wasn't exactly preparing myself for this moment."

He said nothing further and latched his lips to your neck once again. Running your fingers through his hair, you craned your neck to the side to give him more access. He gently sucked on your skin, not too harsh that it would leave marks. You sighed and fiddled with the waistband of his sweatpants. "Do you want it off," he asked quietly, lips ghosting over yours. You nodded, biting your lip when he pushed his pants down.

His member came into sight, making your mouth water.

Taking your hand in his, he brought it to his cock. Your fingers wrapped around his girth instinctively. Jaemin suck in a breath as he made you stroke his length. His hand slipped past your panties, fingers toying with your clit. You gasped and spread your legs wider, loving the way his calloused fingertips felt. Tightening your grip around his cock, you jerked him off earnestly. In turn, Jaemin began rubbing quick circles into your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Letting go of his member, you hastily pushed your pants down your legs. Jaemin peeled your panties off of you, marveling at the sight of your glistening pussy. "Don't just stare," you complained, shutting your legs, "do something."

Jaemin wordlessly, spread your legs apart and settled down between your thighs. He glanced up at your through his lashes, asking for permission before licking a stripe up your folds. You pushed your hips against his mouth, eyes falling shut when he repeated the action. Holding onto your thighs, he nipped and sucked at your clit, groaning every time your bucked your hips into his face. You gripped onto his hair, tugging at his roots. Jaemin's fingers prodded at your slit, slowly entering your walls. He curled them up, making your arch your back in delight. It felt so good. He knew exactly what he was doing.

With his tongue skillfully moving over your clit and his fingers continuously pumping in and out of you, it didn't take long for you to feel a familiar knot in your stomach. You sat up, pulling his mouth off of your cunt. "I need you to fuck me now." Your voice was hushed, breathless because of how much you'd moaned. Jaemin's eyes had darkened considerably. He pushed you down on your back again and pressed his tip to your entrance.

Jaemin felt bigger than he looked. Not that you were complaining or anything, it just took a while to get used to. He made sure you were comfortable before slowly starting to pound into you.

You grabbed his arms as he fastened his pace, head falling back in ecstasy. Shallow breaths left his parted lips. "You feel so good," he muttered, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His breath was hot on your skin. You wrapped your arms around his neck, humming in response. You were close. Jaemin could tell.

Gripping onto your waist, he went faster, slamming his cock into you as he chased your highs. You cried out his name, squeezing your eyes shut. Your walls clenched tightly around his length, your orgasm crashing down on you intensely. Soon enough, he twitched inside you. His thighs stilled, hips snapping into you one last time before thick ropes of his cum shot into your walls. He let out a pleased groan, voice deep and raspy.

"That was amazing," you breathed, pushing your hair out of your face as Jaemin moved off of you. He smiled and tugged his pants back on, joining you under the covers. "I'm glad you enjoyed it." Jaemin pulled you into his side, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. You laughed to yourself. "What is it," Jaemin asked. You shook your head, looking at him. "To think this all started after you agreed to tutor me."

◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦◦

tagging: @neosmutcollective @hoehousenet @kdiarynet @kafenetwork @nct-writers @ficscafe @whipped-kpop-creators @kpopscape

[soobasaur]

are you mine?

— a lee minho au

genre: enemies to lovers minho x gender neutral!reader

a/n: this is for my bestie who has been in a minho obsession lately and needs more content, you know who you are :]

« masterlist

you and minho didnt exactly,,,get along very well for a while

the only reason you both even knew each other was two of your best friends were dating and merged ur friend groups

(thanks a lot binsung 〴⋋_⋌〵)

you wouldnt go as far as to say you hated him

but you liked to pretend you did

you just barely saw him around so why not just mke him your mortal enemy??

it was easier to hate him then admit he was decent company!!

you had a reputation to uphold!!!!

and apparently he did too because he never really disagreed,,,,

you guys just ever had a chance to get off on the right foot and really talk

mutual disagreement <33

the thing is, the both of you were never left alone together

like ever

until that one time yall were abandoned (-д-；)

you and ur friend groups planned a hang out but everyone ended up cancelling last minute with no excuse

it was just you two who didnt get the memo and ended up alone

now that you think about it,,,that sounds like smth ur friends would do on purpose

(again, fuck u binsung!! ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ )

so just picture this,,,you and minho both showing up to an arcade and sitting in silence for an hour before getting a text that everyone cancelled

your immediate thought was to go home bc why would minho want to hang out with you???

but after the both of you read the text in the groupchat he got up and made his way inside, holding the door open and quirking his eyebrow up at you

“well, are you coming or not? I wanna try the new vr game.”

and you were just like \\(⊙︿⊙)// ???

he? wants?? to hang out??? with just you????

but u ended up following him in and he paid for your guy’s tickets ���◡≦

“just buy me lunch after and we’re even”

lunch??? now this mf wants to get lunch together?!$%

you learned one thing about minho that day

he was,,,competitive,,VERY competitive

like what demon possessed him kind of competitive

whenever he won he would flash you a smirk and skip to the next game as he dragged his row of tickets along

it INFURIATED U!!!

ur pride was in shambles

so you unleashed everything after that and won a good amount of games ;)

u had been eyeing a cute cat plush the entire time but u didnt have enough tickets at the end :((

o(╥﹏╥)o damn it capitalism u just wanted a plushie

you didnt rlly want anything else so you gave your tickets to minho and waited to the side for him to get his prize

he came out with tHE SAME PLUSHIE YOU HAD BEEN EYEING \\( ಠ_ಠ)//

but before you could sulk about it he handed it to you and started to make his way to the exit Ｏ(≧▽≦)Ｏ

and during lunch this bitch ended up paying even after saying you should (｀ε´)

\(▰˘◡˘▰)//\\ (▰˘◡˘▰)//\\ (▰˘◡˘▰)// \\(▰˘◡˘▰)//

After that...hang out if you will,,u started to notice minho everywhere

LIKE E V E R Y W H E R E

why was this bitch all over your college campus?

you never noticed minho was in ur class for the longest time jsskkfk

like all of a sudden u just spotted him out of the corner of ur eye and were like o h

once he noticed you too there was no going back

say good bye to paying attention in class

(as if you ever did anyways)

he started to inch closer to you during class

he even started sending you notes

ಠ▃ಠ and u were so paranoid the professor would catch you

but this bitch was slick so u were fine

ヽ(๏∀๏ )ﾉ

he was the type of guy to throw little crumpled sticky notes at you whenever he wanted to say something during class

they’d be covered with doodles of cats and his scribbly messy handwriting + little hearts

it was usually just some dumb thought he had or a crude drawing of the professor (. ﾟーﾟ)

other than those few notes you guys never really talked outside ur friend group

there was one incident late at night tho

you had a big project coming up and it was 2am and you were...2 sentences in T_T

you deserved a coffee break <3

so that was how you found under the awning of an all night coffee shop

except it wasn't all night and closed right after you got ur coffee!!

and now u were stuck under the awning!!

all you had was your measly hoodie that you stole from changbin and your now soggy cup of coffee as you waited for the rain to pass

you might as well of just stayed home since ur wasting all this time you could’ve been working on your project standing outside

were you gonna work on the project once you got home? no

but did the thought of wasted time still make you mad? yes

you slumped against the shop as you bitterly drank your coffee, crushing the cup between your hands

after a couple minutes you felt the rain above you stop

you look to your side to see,,,minho?!

this mf was holding an umbrella above your head

“here, take my umbrella.”

thats when you noticed the cafe uniform he had on

“you work here?” you asked, before taking the umbrella from his hand

“yeah, your observant ass didnt see me literally make your coffee,”

“oh whoops,,,i thought you hated me, why are you giving me our umbrella?”

“i do, but id rather you uh...not die in the cold looking like a dead rat.”

was it just you or were his cheeks dusted pink?

probably the cold

(y/n you dumb bitch-)

you both walk back to your dorms after that

and he insists you carry the umbrella

cus his poor arms are tired from making coffee all day :((

and maybe it's an excuse to be closer to you

since hes a bit taller he has to crouch and scoot closer to you in order to not get wet >_<

⊙﹏⊙ ⊙﹏⊙ ⊙﹏⊙

over the next few weeks your find urself at the cafe he works at more often

one time you got the hours wrong and he wasnt on shift :(

but when you got up to leave he walked in and spent the day helping you study instead of working

you went for the coffee!! not for him!! definitely not,,,

(¬‿¬)

“look, im only hanging out with you cus you get the employee discount.”

“sure, and not cus you enjoy my company-”

“i 100% despise your company.”

ok but u didnt

u actually /REALLY/ liked his company

like WTF

where has he been all ur life

ew that sounded too romantic

but like fr where was he hiding

(・ε・｀)

soon you both were joining binsung on their dates

but it wasn't a double date!!

it was just four friends hanging out and two happened to be a couple

and they liked to hang out at fancy restaurants and do couple like activities

totally normal!!

there was one incident where you were about to pay for your meal but minho placed his hand on top of yours and slid his card instead

“you can pay on the next date.”

NEXT? DATE??

excuse me sir what do u mean-

you ignored changbin and jisung’s snickers behind you the entire night

when minho walked you home you couldnt help but let urself blurt out

“was this a date?”

minho gave you an incredulous look

“...was it not??”

oh my god this is embarrassing

“OH MY GOD WAS IT NOT?!!”

you ignored how minho was now turning crimson red and panicking and tugged on his collar, pulling him down for a kiss

“it was...a date” you mumble, now shy at the close proximity between the two of you

“...im gonna kill jisung.” he muttered, pulling you in for a hug, “he told me this was a double date”

“that can be our next date, the murder of our best friends.”

“wow i am in love with you.”

＼（＾○＾）人（＾○＾）／

minho and y/n murder besties!!

for legal reasons that is a joke

( ˶˘ ³˘(˵ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°˵)♡

thank you for reading !!

[ellana-ravenwood]

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

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

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

My masterlist : @ella-ravenwood-archives

__________________________________________________

The Gap Year of Disaster

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Catastrophe. 

Proof that things could ALWAYS get worst. 

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

Did you leave it at home ?! Maybe. 

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

Damn it ! 

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

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

“Here, miss, you dropped this.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Here’s your change, m’am.” 

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

“Wow, thanks !” 

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

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

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

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

Him. 

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

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

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

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

“(Y/N) !” 

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

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

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

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

In this great moment filled with despair and awkwardness.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You...You know Bruce Wayne ?!” 

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

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

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

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

“Honey, who are your friends ?” 

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

It was turning out alright ?! 

HOW ?! 

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

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

And that’s something Bruce caught. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My love ?” 

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

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

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

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

“Are you an angel ?” 

Ah yes. Your defense mechanism. “Humor”. 

He chuckles, and says : 

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

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

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

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

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

“Haha oh you have no idea.” 

“Glad I could help.” 

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

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

“Actually miss…?”

“(Y/L/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

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

“…I am ?”

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

“What the...” 

“A paparazzi. Good timing, for once.” 

“Huh ?” 

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

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

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

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

“They’re not my friends.” 

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

“Ask me what ?” 

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

“What ?”

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

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

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

“And I’m the right person ?”

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

“…Thanks.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry if I offended you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I ?”

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

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

“I don’t really need a “reputation”.”

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

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

“Of course, I will pay you.” 

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

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

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

“And it would truly help me tremendously.” 

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

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

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

Briefing. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something that DID NOT go unnoticed by his secretary. 

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

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

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

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

“I’m someone special to you.” 

“Exactly !” 

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

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

“Sorry for the wait.” 

“Oh no, I bet you’re a busy man.” 

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

“Yes.” 

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

“Sounds good, mister Wayne.” 

“Yes well first, please call me Bruce.” 

“Only if you call me (Y/N).” 

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

“Ok, then I thought we could-” 

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

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

Meeting the Little Buddy. 

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

And it was a needed step. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can you be mine then ?” 

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

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

“Oooooh !” 

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

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

He had a knack, to notice how people felt. 

A “family” outing.

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

Today was one such small date. 

You could see Bruce was nervous, though.

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

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

“Ok, out with it mister, what’s up ?”

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

“I-Um...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, hey look !”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

First Official outing. 

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

Or you’d go out with him and Dick, to do some fun things like mini-golf or catching a movie. Nothing too big and scary. It was mainly just you guys, no one else. 

It seemed like he knew where the paparazzis would be (most likely because he was “anonymously” tipping them off himself), and he’d take you on random short dates when he had time in between his work, slowly fueling the rumors Bruce was not a heart to steal anymore. 

And that he was dating a “commoner” ! (He hated this name for you, while you really didn’t mind that much). 

And this gala, was what made it completely official. Finally. It was your idea, to take things “slow”, and hang out with him and his son BEFORE hanging out in public areas like this. 

It was clever, really. To make it seems like you were trying to “hide” your relationship by being low-key, to then finally announce everything in public like that, at such an event. 

Bruce went to get a drink for the both of you, and you were looking around you, horrified at the mere idea that someone would come talk to you. 

But for some reasons, nobody seemed to dare. Maybe Bruce made sure that people would leave you alone ? Even as if you were clearly the talk of the evening, all eyes on you, and not even trying to be subtle ? 

You knew he did the same with little Dickie. That he made sure he was safe from the paparazzi and that no unsolicited journalist would come around him.

Thinking of it, where was the little one ? Usually, according to Bruce, whenever there was a gala he would spend his entire time near the food table, eating as much as he could, and he would come home feeling nauseous because of it...Haha sounded like Dick alright. That kid was so-

Oh oh.

Who was that sleazy looking gal talking to him ? He seemed so uncomfortable, yet too polite to brush her off...Oh no, she wasn’t one of them, was she ?

Without thinking twice about it, wether it was your place to do what you were about to do or not, you resolutely walked towards them.

“-Think it’s because he relates to you ? As both of you lost your parents in horrific situations, you know ?”

“I-I don’t know m’am.”

When you saw Dick’s distressed face, and his eyes slowly filling with tears, there was no doubt in your mind.

This woman was not supposed to be there, and was definitely not supposed to talk to that child...

This woman was a - shiver of disgust- tabloid journalist.

Your blood boiled as you saw her take a picture of the teary eyed Dickie, and you were standing protectively in front of him before you could even think about it. When you felt the boy clutch to your sleeve, hiding behind you and holding on for dear life, you knew you wouldn’t regret it.

“Can I ask you why you’re talking to that boy, please ?”

“What, it’s illegal to talk to fellow guests now ?”

“Lady, you’re well in your thirties. He’s eight. You have no right talking to him. Not only is it weird, but I know what you’re doing.”

“Oh, and pray tell, what am I doing, lovey ?” 

“You’re trying to get a story out of him. And you should be ashamed of yourself. He’s eight ! And from what I heard, you were asking some very disgusting things back there !” 

“I-”

“Shut up.”

Your words came out harsh and determined, and the woman was so shocked she stayed silent for a while. You crouch down to Dick’s level, and ask : 

“Are you ok, my little buddy ?” 

He nods weakly, and then burst into tears as he launches himself in your arms, clinging to you tightly. You turn your head towards the woman, glaring at her so fiercely she doesn’t dare to take a picture of the scene, even as she knows she could sell them for a golden price. 

“You should be ashamed of yourself. He’s just a child !” 

The woman was about to say something else, something you knew would fuel your anger further, when Bruce arrived, and it was clear from his face that he was not happy. 

A quick look to you holding his crying son in your arms, and to the lady with the camera in her hands, and he understand what happened. With a cold voice you never heard him use before, he says : 

“I suggest you leave the area now, before I force you to.” 

There was something almost scary, in his demeanor. Almost like...No. Impossible. In any case, you didn’t worry about it much, drawing soothing circles with your hand on Dick’s back, trying to calm him. 

People around quickly stopped staring as they met Bruce’s assassin glare. It was not secret, that he was very protective of his son. And of his new girlfriend, apparently. 

You picked the little boy in your arms (Dick, at the time, was still so tiny), and Bruce comes closer, trying to soothe him too. And it really looked like all this was real...

Dick fell asleep in Bruce’s arms shortly after that, and was still there when it was time for the gala official pictures. Not wanting to wake him up, for once, Bruce allowed people to photograph the boy, as long as they did not frame his face. 

He laid his free hand on the small of your back, and just like you got used to those past months, you pretend to be head over heels for him and have one of your own arm around his waist.  

“Would you please allow me to kiss you on the cheek, for the cameras ?”

His question is so sweet, softly whispered in your ears. And you felt like a tease tonight, and maybe a little tipsy too. You tell him : 

“On the cheek only ? Let’s give them a show no ? Let them forget about what happened with Dick.”

Of course, you’re only joking, but there’s a light in Bruce’s eyes you haven’t seen before and...It disappears quickly. He chuckles, of that low chuckles that would charm anyone in the world, and says :

“I don’t want to force you to do anything you wouldn’t want to. Actually kissing me, I realize, might be too much.”

You know he caught on your joke, but you can’t brush off that light in his eyes that ignited when you suggested to kiss him...You don’t know why, and it feels you’re not controlling your own words, as you hear yourself say :

“Oh because kissing you would be such a horrible thing wouldn’t it ? Oh my, you’re only one of the handsomest man in Gotham, a rather attractive fella, how could I handle kissing you ? So disgusting !”

Your tone is teasing, and a little bit challenging. He catches on that, too. He answers : 

“But I am merely here to serve. I will do as you wish. You only have to say the words.” 

His smile fills your vision. His face. And the way he softly holds your waist, even as his other arms is carrying his son (the man was BUILT). And you think...Well, fuck it ! It was time for the first (fake) kiss, right ? 

Right here, in front of the cameras, where everyone was seeing you. Making it go full circle. Making it “official”. 

“Kiss me then, if you dare.” 

You simply say. Releasing a breath you were unaware you were keeping in. And he feels his heart squeeze, and as if he’s sweating a bit. When was the last time he was nervous about kissing a woman ? 

He couldn’t remember. 

And then he kisses you, the flashes of cameras slowly fading away as his lips melt onto yours. 

Wow. What a perfect, and nice, first kiss. 

As fake as it might be.

Your room. 

Your room at Wayne Manor was bigger than your entire apartment. 

You and Bruce decided that sometimes, so you wouldn’t raise any suspicion, you’d sleep at the Manor. Paparazzi were so on top of everything, it would seem weird if he was in a “committed relationship” and you never slept at his place. 

So Alfred settled a room for you. 

Oh. Alfred ! You met him not long ago, and he was the best ! 

It felt like he could magically guess what you wanted when you wanted it, and magically appeared with that warm cup of tea you craved, or that meal you’ve been thinking about all day. 

But beyond that, he was genuinely nice and made sure to make you as comfortable as possible. He showed you around, and his conversation was so pleasant ! 

You could actually see a lot of Bruce in him. Or, rather, it was evident that Alfred had raised Bruce most of his life, because they had a lot of similar mannerism, and were both kind and caring (Ah, imagine if Superman knew what you thought of Bruce, how crazy it’d sound to him eh ? But of course, that you’d discover way WAY later). 

You never went to explore much when it was time to go to bed, too afraid to get lost. This place was huge, and you never quite had a good sense of orientation. 

One could only wonder, what would you have discovered if you ever dared to wake up during the night, and explore his home ?

Build a Bear. 

Sometimes, Bruce really had to wrack his brain for original date ideas. Ever since he came back to Gotham, his dating days consist of pretending to sleep with every model in the World. 

He’d take them to fashion shows, to galas, to charity events...All very public places, unsuitable for a “serious” relationship like he was hoping to make yours and his pass for. 

Enter : Clever little Dickiebird, who always had an idea (and who might’ve been the best wingman someone like the Batman needed...that, of course, he’d discover it way, WAY later) :

“You can take her to a build a bear !” 

“Build...a bear ?” 

“Yeah, you know. You go and you make your own teddy bear !” 

“I do know, I took you to get Chester - the name of Dick’s favorite plushie toy now, and maybe with which he slept-. But...For a date ?” 

“What ? It’s cute and intimate !” 

“Huh ?” 

It has been a long time, since Alfred Pennyworth had to hold his laughter in that hard, and try to stay impeccably neutral. And there, faced with his master Bruce, who was known as the “ultimate womanizer”, the “perfect playboy”, and who was currently taking advice from his eight years old son...It was really hard to keep a straight face. 

It was also incredibly adorable. Especially how Bruce seemed to genuinely listen to the little one, unaware that he seemed actually way too interested for things just to be for his “fake relationship” to be more convincing. 

Not that Alfred was going to tell Bruce anything. 

“Dick, you know (Y/N) isn’t really my girlfriend, right ?” 

The way the boy talked about taking you to a date, felt to Bruce like he was forgetting this was all fake. And it was important to remind him.

But Dick had to invoke all the efforts in the world to not roll his eyes as to say : “sure she isn’t”, by now, it was oh so obvious to everyone but you and Bruce that there was a very real thing forming between you two. 

Instead, he said : 

“But you’re suppose to make the public really believe it right ? If you take her to build a bear, I can assure you they will think you guys are the real deal.” 

Bruce pondered this for a little bit, and realized that his son was right. It did seem like a cute and intimate date to bring your girl to, even if she was your fake girl...

Ah. Bruce forgot his own words. “Dick is great at pretending.” He is. He really is. Just like right now, he was pretending his idea was completely innocent, while he knew it would bring you two ever so closer. 

That whenever you’d see those bears you were going to build in your home, you’d think of one another. And remember fondly of the memory. 

And oh. Oh that boy was right. 

Your bear was sitting proudly on your couch, and every time you saw it, you remembered how clumsy Bruce had been, filling his own bear up. And how cute he was, carefully thinking of his options. 

And every time Bruce saw his own bear, that Alfred, for some reason, settled in the Batcave on the “trophy shelves” (and for some reason Bruce didn’t take it off of it...), he couldn’t help but think how he had genuine fun that day. 

Genuine fun, for the first time in what felt like ages. And how your smiling and giggling face didn’t seem to leave his mind, whenever he saw that bear...

Conniving traitors. 

“We both agree, he’s in love with her right ? He’s just too dense to realize it.” 

“Oh yes, young Master Richard, he definitely is. And he is dense, at times.” 

“Should we do anything ?”

“No more than what you’re already doing.” 

“Which is ?” 

“Which is continuing to push them in the...Right direction.”

“Oh ! I get it ! I’ll keep going Al’!” 

“And I’m sure you’ll make miracles, young master.” 

Dick’s smile to the old butler was so pure and happy, that Alfred had a hard time keeping his composure once again. 

And oh. Oh how he wish they were right, and that his Master Bruce would FINALLY allow himself to be happy... 

Rumors and Truth 

Bruce was just a tiny bit older than you. 24, according to his wikipedia page. 

And you couldn't help but be a little jealous, as you were looking at the page to re-enroll yourself in Gotham’s university, knowing he was done with college.

Then again, he was obviously a genius and would’ve been done faster than you anyway, even if you were the same age, since he finished his PhD just the year before, while most people don't even START their doctorate until they're around 23/24. 

Mmmm. Made you think. Was this just yet another rumors about the man ? 

Maybe not, after all it was proven he started college at age 14, and in Ivy Leagues ones, all across the world. 

From Cambridge, to Oxford, without forgetting La Sorbonne (A/N : by the way, this is canon haha, Bruce really did start college that early and went to many different places, and honestly, is anyone surprised ?). 

This wasn't really something you absolutely couldn't believe, compared to other crazy rumors about him. And you knew he WAS smart. 

By then, you couldn't count how many things were circulating about him, and how hard it was to know the truth from just plain old rumors. 

He had over a thousand lovers, he had MORE than one PhD (impossible, right ?), he had died once but survived somehow, he was part of a cult, he often lost his status as a billionaire because he gave so much money to charities and such, but his companies meddled in so many areas that his bank account was always filled more and more…

Honestly that last part didn't really surprise you. You saw him gave his money away to things he cared about (like education and medical care) without a second thoughts, so the fact he constantly oscillated between "billionaire" and "multi-millionaire" didn't really surprise you, not when you knew him like you did now. 

You totally trusted the rumors that said that by now, he gave away more than he currently owned. It sounded like him alright…But how to know the truth from the downright crazy ? Did he really have a PhD or was this just an addition to how special and different Bruce Wayne was in Gotham ? What kind of PhD did he have anyway ? 1000 lovers, really ?!

So many questions. And not a lot of answers. Even if you grew closer (as friends, of course), Bruce was still somewhat of a mystery to you. 

He never really tried to dismiss rumors, even the bad ones (unless they touched his son). Which made you wonder if they were true or not. And you really, really, for some reasons, wanted to know more about him...

“Is something the matter ?” 

He asks. Oh goddamn you, day dreaming on one of your regular “coffee date”. 

You shake your head, sipping on your drink and say : 

“Was just thinking about...Tabloids.” 

“Ah.” 

He frowns. For understandable reasons.

“I was just thinking about wether some rumors were true or not.” 

“What do you think is not true ?” 

“I don’t really know, and you never really say a rumor is false so it’s hard to know.” 

“Do you want to know anything in particular ?” 

Bruce knows it’s dangerous, to let you enter his private life like that. There’s a reason, after all, why he never dismisses any rumors. 

It helped build his fake persona, and take away any suspicions that he might be the infamous Batman. 

But he felt weak, around you. As if he just wanted to please you, no matter what. Sometimes, he felt dangerously close to just tell you : “ask me anything and I’ll tell you the truth”, even if it meant revealing his night activities...

Crazy, right ? 

He knew it was. And that he shouldn’t let it happen. Yet here he was, asking if you wanted to know something. Craving your attention. It felt so unlike him. But...You seemed to unlock a certain part of him. 

The one that didn’t die with his parents, and remained hidden. The one that was the old little Bruce, full of hope, honesty and happiness. Full of wish for the future...Even if he knew there was none. 

“How was college, for you ?” 

You hear yourself asking, really wondering if it was true he was 14 when he started, and if it was...How different you guys were, right ? You were 21 right now, and taking a gap year after two years of college...When he was your age, he had already finished a master (or even maybe two). 

"My college years were actually pretty boring, and unlike some rumors say, weren't particularly wild. I was really young."

"Ah, I heard the rumors."

"Those are true, I'm afraid haha."

"Afraid ? You're a genius !"

Which is why you found, more and more, his "himbo" persona to be odd. WHat was Bruce Wayne trying to hide ? Mmm…

Bruce recognized that look in your eyes. The look of someone who was onto something, and it was too frightening to let it happen. So he said :

"Yes well, I feel I missed a lot, during those years. Which is why I make it up now hahaha !"

His boisterous laughter seemed genuine, and totally fooled you. You couldn't always be on top of everything eh ? And this, did answer your question about his himbo persona…Oh, Bruce was good.

And he knew it. He trained for years, to make sure nobody would ever even suspect him to be Batman.

But he had to be careful with you. He knew it. It was obvious. You weren't that easy to fool…

The Day Batman saved you. 

The fact he had to be careful with you was confirmed not long after. When, as Batman, he came to your rescue.

He should’ve known, that even with a voice changer, and a mask covering most his face, plus a demeanor that was completely different from his usual one, you’d still get suspicious...He should’ve known because he, by then, knew you quite well. 

But, what ? Was he suppose to just let you get mugged ? 

He couldn’t. 

Even if in the grand scheme of things, it would’ve been better, and he would definitely intervene if it got too rough...He couldn’t. 

He couldn’t bear the thought of you getting hurt, or feeling distressed.

He knew this was stupid. That he shouldn’t get so attached. That muggings weren’t really his area of expertise, that to stop them, he had to hit the big bosses. He knew. Small thugs weren’t his target. He had a much bigger vision. And rationally, he should be somewhere else right now. 

Yet he couldn’t resolve himself to. Because, and that was a dangerous thought and feeling, he was in l- 

“Why are we spying on your girlfriend ?” 

Dick’s voice takes him out of his reveries, good. It WAS getting dangerous. Still keeping you in his field of vision (you were slowly going back to your apartment, a few minutes still, and he could leave to do other things knowing you were safe and sound in your home), he answered :  

“We’re not spying on her, we’re making sure she’s safe. And she’s not my girlfriend, you know that.” 

“Oh yeah ? We’ve been following your “totally not girlfriend” since the night started, awfully looks to me like we’re um, you know, stalking her.”

“We’re not.” 

“Suuuuuuuuuure.” 

Bruce gives an annoyed look to his son, who had way too big a smug face right now, and says : 

“The night is calm, if something comes up we’ll go. But right now, it’s alright. And it has been made official, that she and I are a couple.” 

“Fake couple.” 

“Fake one to us, not to the public eye.” 

“Ooooooh !” 

Connections were quickly made in the boy’s head, and he understood why they were following her. After all, this was Gotham. And if THE Bruce Wayne had ONE known lover...Well, it was easy to know it’d attract some nasty business. 

Dick was about to make a smug remark of which he had a talent for, when it happened. He pointed at you, fear in his eyes, and Bruce focused your way again. 

“Stay here.” 

“What why ?! I wanna help her too !” 

“Because she’s too smart not to put two and two if she sees you with me. She knows us in our day lives. She’ll recognize us for sure, if we’re together.”

“Oh...”

“Just stay still, ok ?” 

“Ok.” 

Without a second thought, Bruce jumped down in the street down below, under Dick’s worried eyes. If anything happened to you, he knew his dad would never be the same again. 

And he knew he couldn’t bear to lose yet another person he cared about. Even loved. Yes. Yes Dick loved you, as if you really were part of his family...

The months of “faking” family outings made it so. Your worst fear happened. Dick was getting attached, hardcore. And he really hoped you and Bruce would figure out you were actually in love with each others before the end of your “contract”, and before his sometimes very dense dad would decide to let you go...

For now though, he was anxiously looking at Bruce making his way to you, after he spotted a suspicious group of men genuinely stalking you. 

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

“Hey pretty girl, can we talk ?” 

You stop in your track, turning around, cursing yourself for not having the instinct to just take off running. Oh. But you can see at least one of them has a gun. You can’t run faster than a bullet... 

“Ah it is you, isn’t it ?” 

You don’t answer, knowing what they mean. Bruce sort of warned you against this. But you didn't take his warnings seriously, and here you were, going home at night, something he definitely told you not to do. 

You just couldn’t sleep that night, and needed a walk...And here you were. 

“You’re gonna come nicely with us, right ?” 

“I dont’ think so.” 

Uh ? You’re pretty sure that weird robotic voice wasn’t yours. Even if that’s exactly what you wanted to say. And that’s...oh wow. 

That’s when you see him. Batman. 

Immediately, the atmosphere grow even tenser. And you can see the thugs who wanted to take you with them fearfully looking at him. 

“This has nothing to do with you Batman, leave us alone, we didn’t do anything wrong !” 

“It has everything to do with me. Leave.” 

“We have to-You don’t understand. We have to take her to-” 

“Nowhere. Leave.” 

Even if he was protecting you, you had to admit that, that dude was frightening. He had his back to you, and even then, he looked so intimidating and tall and broad...

Bruce was tall and broad too. But he was soft and sweet, not scary at all.

“OH MY GOD LOOK OUT !!” 

One of the thug had a gun pointed at Batman. Right at his head. He didn’t have the time to enforce his helmet yet, and if he shot around his mouth, he was done for...

A rock coming out of nowhere hit the thug right in the face. 

Coming out of nowhere ? To you, maybe. But Bruce knew that this was little Dickie’s doing. “Robin always has Batman’s back”, he said often...

For the time being, the one taking his gun out being knocked out triggered a “fight or flight” reaction in the others, and as two took off running (and were mysteriously hit by rocks too, knocking them out), three decided to attack Batman. 

Bad move. 

Very bad move. 

In a matter of second, it was over. 

He turns to you, and it’s hard to discern any emotions with his lighted eyes and mask. He asks : 

“Are you alright, (Y/N) ?” 

“How-How do you know my name ?”

“Well, you’re Bruce Wayne’s girlfriend, right ?” 

There was no hesitation in Bruce’s voice as, as soon as he pronounced your name, he knew he messed up...but he trained himself to think quickly. And this “fake” relationship was a perfect excuse, of course. Everyone in Gotham knew about you two, by now. 

“Oh, right, ok.” 

You seemed a bit disappointed, and Bruce couldn’t quite understand why...

It only hits him later, as he was going to bed, why you looked like that. And it made hi heart beat widely. Because he was pretty sure that it was because you sort of hoped Bruce talked to “Batman about you...Oh...Oh this was getting dangerous. 

But of course, Bruce had a reputation to be the one funding Batman’s gadget (a really good cover for the fact he was actually Batman). So they’d know each others...

But right there and then, as he just saved you, you felt so stupid, hoping that Bruce would’ve talked to you to Batman. Why would he ? How the hell would your name even show up in a conversation between Bruce Wayne and Batman (but oh, if you knew you occupied his thoughts many times, and who he really was, maybe you’d feel less bad ? It was, in a way, Bruce talking about you to Batman, right ?). 

You smiled weakly and shyly at this impressive being in front of you, and thanked him one more time. He nods, smiling too (oh ?), and bid you farewell. 

Ah. But Bruce didn’t notice your eyes go wide, as he took off with his grappling hook, and you caught the side of his face in a certain light...

Fake ?

"You know, he smiles more when you’re around.” 

Dick tells you once, you look at him curiously, as he continues : 

“And before you say it’s “all pretend”, let me tell you there’s a difference between this smile and the fake one. Look, that’s how he pretend.” 

On that note, he looked at you and smiled widely, exaggeratedly, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes. And it was so like how Bruce portrayed himself in public, that it made you chuckle. 

It also scared you a little. 

Not because there was a possibility Bruce did smile more around you, but because as that little boy was being silly, and now imitating his adopted father further and oh so perfectly...You felt a surge of love for him. 

And that wasn’t good. 

Because the day, which was coming soon now, you’d have to “dump” Bruce Wayne, you wouldn’t be able to see that little one again...why would you ? 

It’d be too weird, right ? Someone like you, once “broken up”, would have no reasons or ways to ever interact with billionaire Bruce Wayne or his son ever again. 

That little boy was the sweetest child you ever met. He suffered a great loss so early in his life, and there he was, making you laugh and being nice by saying you made his dad genuinely smile. 

It hurt, to know that one day, you wouldn’t see him again. That he’d grow up, and you wouldn’t know what he became. 

You were sure he was destined to become a great man, and you wished you could see it...No. No this was bad. This was so bad. 

“I mean it you know.” 

His little voice brings your attention back to him. 

“I think you make him happy. With you, it feels he can be himself. He laughs more, really laughs. And it’s often that he tells me “oh this makes me think of (Y/N)” and calls you. He doesn’t need to call you for the fake relationship thing, right ? Yet he does. That means something. I think he likes you.” 

You shake your head, smiling at this little boy’s wild imagination. No way. No way was THE Bruce Wayne falling for you in any way. Were you guys becoming real friends ? Sure. But it definitely stopped there. Right ?

Oh but if only you knew Dick had a knack to see this kind of things, and to guess people’s real feelings. If only you knew, that yes, Bruce was starting to fall for you...It would make the next episode way less painful for you. 

“Catch me dead before you catch me catching feelings” - You to yourself, a few days before starting a fake relationship with THE Bruce Wayne. 

“Fuck you” - You to yourself, almost six months in faking a relationship with Bruce Wayne. 

This was...bad. 

Soon enough, you and Bruce will break this entire deal off, you will “dump” him, and you’d go on your separate ways. And...

This was bad. 

Why ? WHY COULDN’T YOU JUST HANG OUT WITH THIS AMAZING CHARMING MAN AND THAT’S IT ? Why ? WHY DID YOU HAVE TO GET OUT THERE AND CATCH....

Catch...

Catch those body shivering “feelings”. 

Not just for Bruce though. But for the little buddy too. 

You felt yourself fall for Bruce slowly, and as if it was completely out of your control. But you also felt like if Dick wasn't in your life anymore...You wouldn’t feel whole again. Like he was sort of your son, too, by then. 

This was so bad. How did you get yourself in this mess ? What was that FIRST rule you gave yourself when all this started ? 

Right, “Catch me dead before I catch feelings”. Damn it. 

Thanks GOD the “marrying season” was finally coming to an end. Both you and Bruce settled you’d wait a few weeks after it to make your break-up official, so nobody would be tempted to cancel any wedding plans to try and force their daughter onto him.  

And it couldn’t happen soon enough. 

Being around him now, faking being in love, was torture to you. 

Kissing him knowing he felt nothing. Holding his hand in public while you knew in your heart he was just putting a show still. And hanging out with him feeling that you had absolutely no chance of this ever evolving...

It hurt.

It hurt so bad. 

And you were slowly hoping you never agreed to being his fake girlfriend. Being a living cliche, the money and the fame were REALLY not worth the heartache. 

So not worth it...

The end...?

"Well mister Wayne, it has truly been a pleasure to be your "girlfriend" haha. Seriously, I had a lot of fun, and a little revenge on life. You know, I saw Eric and Monica not long ago. They tried to become my friends again, knowing I was with you. It was great, to ignore them like they ignored them. You’re right, they’re really not worth it. And honestly I still don’t think we’re even after they hurt me like they did but...In the end, they looked so outraged. Win-win, really. Thank you very much."

"Thank YOU, for playing along and doing more than you bargained for. You really saved me a lot of hassle and…I had fun, too."

Your taxi was pulling in front of the Manor, and honked as he parked. Clearly, not a very patient driver.

"Well, see you around, Bruce ! If you're not too busy, you know…I kinda consider you a friend by now ?"

"Me, too."

Bruce lied. A "friend" ? No, it couldn't cover and explain all his feelings for you. A "friend". How ridiculous.

As you walked away, giving him a last smile, Bruce felt a pang in his chest.

A painful and yet happy one. A longing one. One that told him that "friend" wasn't what he wanted to be…Not anymore…

But was there really a future for you and him ? Probably not. His nightly activities would get in the way. You deserve more than the life he could give you. Being his "fake" girlfriend, you only took part in his public matters. Part in a fake world full of nice things, that was far from his actual life.

"Friend", he wished he could be more to you than this.

But he knew.

He knew that for your own good, he had to stay away. And oh, oh how he wished he could be more than just your "friend" or "fake" boyfriend. 

Yet he watched as you walked away. Without doing anything. 

He watched you leave, and felt the hole in his heart expand a little more. But didn’t try to catch you, or stop you from leaving. 

And your taxi was already far, now. On its way to Gotham. 

"So you gonna run after her oooor…??"

Dick's little voice takes him out of his reveries.

“Mmm ?” 

“(Y/N). Are you gonna run after her, or stand there looking like a sad puppy for the rest of your life ?” 

“I do not look like a sad puppy.” 

“Yes you do, and you know it. Come on dad, why are you doing this ?” 

This was the first time Dick called him dad. Which didn’t go unnoticed to Bruce. It meant...It meant something was definitely happening. He felt it in his heart. Something that was dangerous. Oh so dangerous. 

Hope. Like the “old Bruce” had. Hope. Full of it. Before his parents were murdered in front of him, for no reasons. Meaningless. 

Hope. 

To have a family again. Ah. But...Being with you was impossible. And Dick would be enough. He would. He was already enough... 

“How long are ya gonna torture yourself exactly ?” 

That boy was too smart for his own good. Bruce said : 

“I’m not. I just...I can’t be with her.” 

“I cAn’T bE wITh hEr !! ...Why ?!” 

“You saw what happened, when it was made official we were together. She almost died.” 

“And you saved her. Your point being ?” 

“Dick...”

“Don’t -he takes a mock Bruce voice- “Dick” me mister ! You’re afraid to be happy, and I won’t have it. You gave me another chance to have a family. A dad. And I’m not about to let my dad punish himself for feeling good. You told me yourself my parents would like for me to be happy. Well yours would too, you big idiot ! So now, you listen to me.” 

Dick, meaning business, jumps on the stairs’ bannister to sort of be on eye level with Bruce, and says, pointing his finger at him : 

“You take one of those fancy useless sport car, and you run after her. Capish ?” 

There’s a moment of silence. During which Bruce is unsure of what to do. And then...Then he smiles at his son. 

His son. 

“Capish”, he simply says, and he rushes towards the garage’s entrance, under Dick’s happy look. 

Success. 

Bruce’s car was leaving the estate, when Alfred joined Dick at the front door. 

“You did it, Master Richard.” 

“I hope I did !” 

“Oh you did. You did. Thank you. Thank you for taking care of my son...”

Dick turned to Alfred, who couldn’t keep a straight face this time. Small tears gathered in the old man’s eyes, and sweet little Dick did not hesitate one second before jumping into his arms and giving him one of his famous “Grayson special” hug. 

It’s real. 

Back to square one. 

You. A bad day. Looking like a mess (this time not because of the rain, but because you cried a lot). Your gap year almost over and still not knowing who you were. With no coffee, but at least, you had a tub of ice cream. 

You already missed Bruce. And Dick. And Alfred. 

You couldn’t believe those six months of “faking” would end up meaning so much to you, and feel so devastating as they ended. 

You wish you had never met Bruce. And that you’d been ridiculed by Eric and Monica, that your life would still be pathetic...Pathetic maybe, but at least, your heart wasn’t completely shattered. 

You don’t hear the hurried knocks on your door, at first. Entranced by your own sadness. It’s only when they become loud and insistant you react. 

You really hope it’s not a journalist. They sort of tried to talk to you so many times, since you “dumped” Bruce...You knew he made sure that they’d stay away, but some were particularly persistent. 

Including that awful woman from the charity, who was asking Dick those horrible questions. “Vicky Vale”, was her name, apparently. What a witch. 

Clearly, the knocking wasn’t gonna go away, so you stood up, settled your tub of ice cream on your coffee table, and went to the door, ready to fight if need be. 

But there was no need for fights. 

At least, not in the literal sense of the term. 

“Bruce ?” 

He seems out of breath. Incredible, given how in shape he was. He doesn’t really leave you any time to say anything else, as he blurts out :

“I was wrong.”

He blurts out out of nowhere, and you’re even more confused. Before you could ask what was all this about, he adds : 

“I was wrong. When I said you were the right person because you were “normal”. You’re everything, BUT “just a regular person”. You’re the most fantastic woman I’ve ever met. You decided to help a total stranger just because. I know I helped you before, but it doesn’t compare to what you did for me. Especially on a matter that seems so silly to me now. You put yourself in a very awkward position for someone you didn’t even know. In front of the public, for a guy like me. You knew I was a “playboy”, and that I could very well use you. Yet you still put up with it. You accepted my son, even as you didn’t have to. Even as, just like me, you are so young. You were nice to Dick, even if all you needed to do was pretend. You’re...You’re...You’re just something else entirely. It feels like you know me, the real me. Like you can read my very soul. Like you’re the only one for me. I’ve known for a long time. I ignored it because I was afraid of what that meant but...but a certain little one made me realize this was time. It’s time to move on. It’s time to allow myself to be happy. And so, here I am.”

Was this...it ? The point of your gap year ? To discover that finding yourself...Meant finding your soulmate ? 

It sounded silly. While at the same time, not. Because you felt it. You felt it deep within you. From the moment Bruce handed you that twenty dollars bill, fate was in motion. 

You meeting Eric and Monica wasn’t bad luck. It was the opposite. It was the Universe’s push towards your real Destiny. 

Towards Bruce. 

“You’re not saying anything. Is this bad ? Or does it mean I blew your mind away ? I’m clearly hoping for the latter...”

Over the months, you discovered how huge of a dork Bruce Wayne could be. Even as if there was often a darkness right behind his smiles. Deep within his eyes. You discovered he wasn’t always this cocky arrogant man he portrayed himself to be while in public. How he was actually pretty funny and oh so empathetic. How...How so many things, the list seemed endless in your mind. 

And it only added to everything, that he looked so unsure. And so you smile. You just smile at him. And everything you feel is in that smile. 

You don’t even realize you’re holding each others now, and that you’re kissing...

It’s not pretend this time. 

A real first kiss. 

Though maybe all your kisses until now weren’t as fake as you pretended them to be. 

In any case, this, right now, is a real kiss alright. 

A real one. 

Full of all the pent up emotions. Free of all the fear and hurt you both felt as you realized you were in love with the other one, yet you thought things were all “fake”. 

Because it wasn't fake. It wasn’t. 

“I love you.” 

You don’t know who said it first. You, or him. You felt so in sync, that it didn’t matter. What is sure, is that you both said it. Before you closed the door to your apartment, leading him in. 

Before you spend the night in each other’s arms.

Bruce not even thinking about going out as Batman..

For the first time in years, he decided to fully embrace being happy. 

“You always told me my parents would wish for me to be happy, well yours too !” Dick said. And oh, he was so right.

By the way, I’m Batman. Surprise. 

“It’s not like I didn’t know, you know.” 

“Huh ?” 

Oh. Oh the delight to see that surprised expression on Bruce’s face. It was quite a rare one, really. And as he finally gathered the courage to tell you who he really was, risking losing you in the process but wanting to show you his full self...

It was particularly delightful. 

“Busted you on that night you saved me. As if I wasn’t going to recognized that jawline.” 

“Wait, really ? I really thought you bought my lies !” 

“Well now, you know not to underestimate me.” 

“I...Do.”

A natural smile reaches his face, and he approaches you, pulling you to him, and laying a soft kiss on your lips. Feeling fully accepted and loved, like never before. And he could see you-

“Oh NO EWWWWWW !!!” 

You pull away from Bruce’s kiss (noticing his slow grumble, displeased to lose  your warmth), and look at little Dickie (your son too, now !), staring at you two, looking disgusted. 

“Get a ROOOOM !!” 

This makes you laugh. A lot. And oh. Oh how would you ever guess, in that moment, that one day, this “get a room !!” said in such a disgusted tone would be the trademark of your children (SIX OF THEM) whenever they’d see you and Bruce display any sort of affection to one another ? 

You couldn’t guess, of course. But even in that moment, as you softly laughed, in Bruce’s arms, while looking at your son now making exaggerated noises and acting silly, you knew this...

This was what you’ve been looking for during this gap year. 

This was who you were. 

Right there. 

At the heart of a loving family, even if right now, it was just the three of you (four, let’s not forget Alfred !). 

The end. 

_________________________________________________

And here we are. I hope you liked it ? I feel particularly nervous about this one haha. Don’t hesitate to leave a little comment and reblog :),  It’s always greatly appreciated, and encouraging :D. Thanks in advance, and see you soon with a new story ! 

[calwrites]

Star Star Tours

Summary: You and Sebastian have been dating for a while now, but the public doesn’t know that yet. Keeping your secret causes some tension on James Corden’s Star Star Tours.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x actress!reader

This is my first time writing for Marvel, so I hope people enjoy! It’s just something that I wrote really quick, but I love the bus tour video, and I thought this could be a cute story. Also, Sebastian was not in nearly enough of the disposable camera pictures.

It was no secret that press tours could be draining. Being stuck in a room for multiple days while people keep asking you the same questions over and over again even though they know that you can’t really answer them. And considering how big Infinity War is, it was no surprise that there were even more interviews than usual.

That was why you had been so excited when you had heard about James Corden’s bus tour. Getting to spend the day outside, surrounded by some of your costars, sounded like a vacation compared to being stuck in a chair all day. There was no doubt in your mind that it would be chaos. Of course, you would do you best to add to that chaos.

Still, as you glanced over at your boyfriend, you thought that maybe press tours weren’t all that bad. You and Sebastian had met while filming Civil War, but you hadn’t really talked much. Sebastian was pretty quiet, and you had worried that he found your loudness annoying, so you had focused on befriending your costars who seemed more receptive to your large personality.

It wasn’t until the press tour that you actually got to know Sebastian. You weren’t sure if you had been partnered with Sebastian and Anthony because someone thought Anthony might ease your nerves about your first Marvel press tour or if they hoped being stuck with two people as outgoing as you and Anthony might force Sebastian out of his shell. Either way, the three of you had been a hit that press tour. More importantly, Sebastian had asked you out shortly after Civil War premiered.

The two of you had been dating ever since. It had made interviews a bit difficult for both of you though. You had decided to keep your relationship private. In theory, you were going to go public after a few months, but the two of you had enjoyed having a part of your lives that was actually private. It was a surprise that no one had let it slip, considering both Tom Holland and Mark Ruffalo knew about the relationship. Still, it was hard ignoring dating rumors every time someone thought you must be with whatever costar you had smiled at that week.

“What are you thinking about?” Sebastian asked, glancing at you before looking back the road. He took one hand off the wheel and grabbed your hand, entwining your fingers.

“Nothing.” You knew that Sebastian wouldn’t buy it. Not when he had seen your goofy grin.

“Nothing? Wanna try again?”

“What if we went to the premiere together?” You kept your eyes on your hand, still entwined with Sebastian’s.

“Like together together?” Sebastian took his hand back so he could turn into the parking lot of the studio. You tried not to notice the slight frown that he wore as he thought about your idea.

“We don’t have to. It’s just that it’s been almost two years. I thought it could be a good time. Maybe everyone will be so focused on the movie that we wouldn’t be big news.” Sebastian didn’t answer as he parked. You could already see a producer rushing over to the car, no doubt to get your ready for the tour. “You don’t have to answer now. Let’s just enjoy the tour and we can talk about it later.”

Sebastian nodded in agreement and the two of you climbed out of the car and made your way over towards the bus.

After you got your mic and everything, you climbed up to the top of the bus, where James gave you a name tag after doing a little bit. Immediately, you rushed to the front row and took the seat next to Lizzie. The two of you had clicked immediately while filming Civil War, and she had been one of your best friends ever since. 

You noticed that Sebastian waited for a few more people to get on before he climbed on and took a seat at the back next to Winston. You tried not to read too much into the fact that he was sitting as far away from you as possible. It was possible, probable even, that he was keeping his distance just so neither of you slipped up on camera. It was a tactic you used quite often. But it was also possible that you had freaked him out when you proposed going public and now he was going to avoid you.

Shaking off the doubts in your head, you picked up the disposable camera that you had been given and started snapping pictures as everyone settled in. To your relief, Sebastian gave you a smile and a small wave when you pointed the camera at Paul and Letitia, catching him in the background. Before it could descend into total chaos, the bus began moving and the tour started.

You and Lizzie almost died laughing when Benedict had to put sunscreen on James’s legs, but he had a point. “Does anyone need face sunscreen?” you asked, waving the bottle of face sunscreen that you had thrown in your purse at the last minute. Very pointedly, you turned to Benedict and Hiddleston. “I’m looking at you two.”

“We get it, Y/N,” Anthony yelled from the back. “You’re a mom friend.” You stuck your tongue out in reply, mainly because flipping him off didn’t seem very TV friendly. Nevertheless, your sunscreen got passed around the bus. Paul tried to give it back to you without putting any on, claiming that he didn’t need any, which resulted in you and Lizzie basically wrestling him and putting it on his face yourselves. The laugh died in your throat as you began turning back to the front and caught sight of Sebastian’s grumpy face. You raised your eyebrows, but he looked away.

“What’s up with him?” Lizzie asked quietly. Apparently she had seen his expression too. You could only hope that no camera had caught it.

“Tell you later.” You tapped slightly on your mic and Lizzie nodded.

Luckily James began the tour before you could dwell on it any more. Between Don’s exaggerated pose when he took a picture of the coffee shop, getting into trouble with James for being “disruptive,” and the singalong, which you got way too into, you had almost forgotten about Sebastian’s stormy expression.

“This is actually Barbara Streisand’s holiday home,” James said, pointing at some strange, red building. “She actually designed it herself.”

“Is that true, Josh?” you called, spinning around so you could face him.

Josh shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Well what do you know? You’re just the bad guy. You’re just trying to cause trouble,” James complained.

“She’s his stepmom, so I think I trust him a bit more than you, James. Sorry.” You shrugged innocently at him before turning back around the air high five Josh. Again, as you were turning back to the front, you caught Sebastian’s eye. He was basically glaring at you.

“What?” you mouthed at him, which of course everyone behind you saw, causing them to turn to look at Sebastian too.

“Y/N, I am trying to give a tour, and you are being disruptive once again. I need eyes up front please.”

“But James,” you whined, huffing in your seat like a little kid, “Sebastian keeps looking at me. Tell him to stop.”

“Sebastian, I need all eyes on me, please. I am the reason you all paid to be here-”

“We have to pay for this?” Hiddleston asked, but James continued as if he hadn’t said anything.

“-so I need you to stop looking at Y/N and pay attention to me.”

“I didn’t even look at her. What am I not allowed to look around now?” Sebastian answered a bit too hotly. There was a brief moment where you could feel everyone look between the two of you, even James and Reggie, who had no idea why it was so strange that Sebastian had snapped like that.

“Geez, Mackie, control your man,” you joked, trying desperately to diffuse the tension.

“No way. Sebastian is not my man. He’s sitting with Winston, so he’s Winston’s problem today,” Mackie yelled back. Luckily, this caused Winston and Anthony to start bickering about who had to take care of Sebastian during the tour. Sebastian, of course, hated the attention and eventually agreed to behave and even gave you a very child-like “Sorry, Y/N.” You stuck your tongue out in response and turned back to give James your full attention.

You all continued the act of disconnected celebrities as James explained what waiting in line was. Hoping to get a better view of the “normal people,” you tried to stand on your chair like you were ogling some animal at the zoo, but almost immediately at least five different people were yelling at you to get down. Apparently it “wasn’t safe” to stand on top of chairs on top of a moving bus.

“Excuse me. I don’t mean to interrupt, but I have to use the bathroom. Can I use the bathroom?” You didn’t turn around this time, worried about seeing Sebastian staring at you again. Instead, you focused on the faux apologetic look on James’s face.

“I’m really sorry. The problem is that the rules on the tour is that you have to have appeared in three or more Marvel movies to use the bathroom. End credits scenes don’t count. Y/N, do you have to use the bathroom?”

“I haven’t been in three movies,” you pointed out.

“That’s right, you haven’t. So I hope you don’t have to use the bathroom. Tom Hiddleston, do you need to use the bathroom?”

“I’m actually okay.”

“Oh, so sorry Y/N. Sorry Josh. Maybe you should ask your stepmom Barbra Streisand if you can use the bathroom at her holiday home.”

“I don’t even have to go,” you protested as Lizzie died laughing next to you.

“Well that’s good because you can’t. Now, does anyone die in the next Avengers?”

The bus was quiet as you all looked at each other. Finally, Paul yelled, “Snitches end up in ditches!”

“I thought they got stitches first,” you whispered to Lizzie.

“Apparently Paul is skipping that part,” she replied. The two of you gave each other a look before dissolving into giggles at the thought of Paul actually throwing someone in a ditch.

The tour continued with more of James’s jokes before he had the bus pull over at a comic shop. A part of you was nervous to go inside. While most of the fans that you had met were nice, you knew that there were still a lot of comic fans who didn’t like your character, or how you played your character, or that you had been cast, or whatever. You gave Lizzie’s hand a nervous squeeze, which she returned, but really you wanted to be holding Sebastian’s hand. You were each other’s biggest supporter. Whenever one of you was feeling nervous, the other was normally right there to offer support.

But instead, you walked in separately.

Luckily, everyone seemed too starstruck to gripe about anything. It ended up being a pretty nice time. You signed some comics and chatted to some fans. One girl even told you about a tattoo dedicated to your character that she was going to get. You almost had a heart attack when she asked you to write down her favorite line of yours, so that she could add that to the tattoo. Afterwards, Mackie had teased you about how much your hand was shaking when you were writing it. It looked like Sebastian was about to say something, but then a camera was suddenly in your face and he disappeared to the other side of the store.

After buying a couple of comics for yourself, you and Lizzie found yourselves in the corner of the store playing with a Scarlet Witch doll that you had bought for her. You didn’t notice when she looked up with a small frown on her face, but you did feel the hand that came to rest on your waist. You looked around quickly, making sure that no cameras were on you, before meeting Sebastian’s eyes.

“What are you doing, Seb?” you whispered. Without you realizing, Lizzie snuck away to give the two of you some privacy. Or as much privacy as you can get when you’re wearing a mic and possibly being filmed.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry about earlier. I guess I just got kind of jealous and I snapped a little.”

“Jealous?” You put your hand on Sebastian’s arm to keep him in place when you felt him begin to back away. “Jealous about what, Sebastian?”

“I don’t know.” He waved his hand around a bit at the rest of the group. “Just seeing your hands all over Paul and joking around with everyone around you.”

“Lizzie and I were forcibly putting sunscreen on Paul. I did that to you before we left the house this morning. I don’t think you have anything to be jealous about.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him.

“Sometimes it just feels like you always have everyone’s attention and you’re joking around with all of them and you never pay attention to me.” You pressed your lips together to keep from laughing at the adorable pout on Sebastian’s face. “And I know that we kind of have to ignore each other sometimes because we don’t want people to know about us, but I just always wish that I could be joking around with you too. I have so much fun talking to you and being around you, and seeing other people having fun around you when I can’t is just annoying sometimes. It’s like I always want to be right next to you.”

You placed a gentle hand on Sebastian’s cheek, making him meet your eyes. “I always want to be next to you too. And most of the time when I’m joking around with other people, I’m wishing that you were there too. But right now, we should get back to the others. It’ll be a miracle if we haven’t been caught on camera.”

“Oh I asked Anthony to make sure that no one would be paying attention to this side of the store.”

“Is that why he’s been yelling for the past few minutes?”

“He’s the best choice for a distraction, unfortunately.” You grinned at Sebastian as you wrapped your arms around him. Smiling back, he planted a quick kiss on your forehead.

“That’s way too bold,” you scolded him. Still, you couldn’t help but laugh. “There’s no way we would be able to explain that away if anyone saw. Way too many questions.”

You began to walk away, but Sebastian pulled you back to him. “Let them ask questions. The premiere is soon and they’ll have their answers then.”

“Oh they will?” You raised your eyebrows in mock confusion.

“Of course. When we go together. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like a date.” The two of you smiled at each other and were about to lean in for a kiss when Anthony was suddenly pulling Sebastian away.

“Break it up, lovebirds. I thought I was providing a distraction so you two could make up, not so you could make out. Now come on, Sebastian. We need to take a picture with that Spiderman statue outside.” 

Sebastian gave you a shrug as Anthony dragged him outside. You rolled your eyes at their antics, then followed the rest of the cast as they began to make their way outside and back to the bus. You had stopped to admire Benedict’s drawing skills when Lizzie was suddenly clutching your arm and squealing. She, of course, had seen everything, though she assured you that everyone had tried their best to be as entertaining as possible on the other side of the store, so that no cameras would be on you.

You wore a smile for the rest of the tour. Lizzie kept teasing you every time you and Sebastian would sneak glances at each other. Not that you could really sneak glances when you had to turn around constantly to look at him. Once again, you got way too into the singalong. This time, Sebastian yelled encouragement at you as you sang off key.

By the time you reached the studio again, you had decided that this was really the best way to do a press tour. You waved goodbye to James and Hemsworth and you climbed off the bus. Before you could take more than a few steps, Sebastian had picked you up and was spinning you around.

“How have you two not spilled the beans yet?” Paul asked as everyone watched in amusement.

“You weren’t even being subtle at the comic shop,” Benedict pointed out.

“Y’all are lucky that the cameras love me so much that they weren’t looking at you,” Mackie joked.

Apparently, the cameras didn’t love Mackie as much as he thought. When the video came out, some eagle eyed fans spotted the two of you looking cozy in the background of a shot. Some people argued that it was impossible to say for certain that it was you and Sebastian, but your Twitter and Instagram notifications were full of people asking if you and Sebastian were dating.

The two of you decided to ignore the questions. Lucky for you, Marvel made it very clear to all of the interviewers that there should be no questions about anyone’s personal lives. All focus was to be on the movie. So you kept the fans guessing until the two of you showed up to the premiere arm in arm.

Unfortunately, there were plenty of people more focused on your relationship than on the movie, so there were plenty of articles about the two of you. Apparently, you were Marvel’s new power couple. As long as you had Sebastian, that was a title you could live with.

[spencer-reid-in-a-pool]

All Cream, No Sugar

Author’s Note: Hello everyone! Here is my sfw fic that was submitted to my friend @writing-in-april​ for the 4th Fic Swap on @imagining-in-the-margins​ ‘s Discord! Not my best work because I have been struggling to manage time lately and balance everything with my school and personal life. But I hope it is enjoyable nonetheless!

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

It was Thursday. Possibly the worst day of the week. Even more awful than Monday. It always felt like a barricade between the beginning of the week and the weekend. The glorious, lazy weekend. Honestly, now that I think about it...Thursday has the same kind of feel as November.   

I chuckled to myself as I left my apartment. My mind was a special place, and I guess today was no different. Better than thinking about my finals, though. Literally anything was better to think about instead of final exams. That’s why I’m treating myself to a break at my favorite coffee shop. I deserve it, really, after the studying I have been doing all day. At least, that’s what I tell myself so I feel okay about spending all this money on coffee. 

The car ride over there was quick enough. I lived on the outskirts of the city, but this place has the best coffee, and I would drive a ridiculous amount of time to get to it. No matter the distance, it would be worth it. 

And maybe...just maybe…I would see that guy that comes in sometimes. The one with the messy hair and the sweater vests. He was so intriguing. I don’t even know his name, but I always notice when he comes in while I’m there. It was pretty much impossible not to. Hopefully one day I would work up the nerve to talk to him. Maybe that day would be today. 

I walked in the building, and the smell of coffee and sweets immediately hit me. It was so comforting. Almost like a tiny sanctuary away from home, and I was always so appreciative. 

As soon as the little bell on the door rang, the barista behind the counter looked up and shot me a smile. They recognized me quite often. 

“Hey, (Y/N), the usual?” she called from across the floor. 

“You know it,” I said with a wink. 

I took my favorite seat in the shop and looked around. It was pretty empty today, which was just the way I like it. It means less time to wait for my coffee and I can sit in peace. The only thing that would make it better is if that guy came in and I got my big girl pants on to ask him his name. 

After a few minutes, my coffee was brought to me and I handed the waiter some cash for my order, with a good amount leftover for a tip. His smile was bright and thankful, and it made me hopeful for today.

Each time the door opened and another person walked in, my heart skipped a beat. I stopped counting when I got to 10 people that turned out not to be him. It irked me more than I care to admit. 

I was starting to lose hope, staring daggers at the dregs of my leftover coffee. Perhaps I thought I would find him there? I just wanted to see him. 

A tap on my shoulder drew me out of my thoughts. Well, it startled me out of them more like. With a gasp, I jumped and looked up at the person who tapped on me. It was the barista who greeted me and made my coffee. Sophie. My favorite barista to spill all my problems to. 

“You okay? You look like you’re really thinking hard about something.”

I sighed and almost smiled at how ridiculous I was being. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. And I was thinking about something. Can you sit for a minute?”

She nodded, “I’m on break, thankfully.���

Once she took her seat across from me at the tiny table, I wrapped my fingers around the now room temperature coffee cup in front of me. 

“So, what’s up? What could you possibly be thinking about that’s got you looking like that?”

“Um, well. There’s this guy…”

Her eyes widened and she leaned forward a bit, as if to ask me to continue. 

“You might have seen him in here before. He comes in as much as I do, which is why I noticed him.”

“What does he look like?”

“Well, he’s tall. He wears sweaters a lot...um…oh, his hair is kind of messy, but in a cute way. And he has this dumb little satchel he carries sometimes-”

“Does he look like that guy?” Sophie asked as she pointed behind me. 

I followed where her finger was pointing by the door and sure enough, he was there. But he was there with another girl I had never seen him with before. She had dark hair and striking eyes, along with a certain air about her that just gave off badass vibes. Of course he would have a girlfriend. And a gorgeous one at that. 

I turned back to Sophie quickly before he noticed me staring. 

“Uh, yeah. That would be him. But I’ve never seen that girl before. It figures, though. Just my luck.”

The pair began walking farther into the shop, talking quietly as they approached the counter to order. The more they talked and smiled at each other, the more my heart seemed to falter. 

“Oh, (Y/N),” Sophie said quietly so only I would hear, “I’m so sorry.” 

I didn’t respond to her. I didn’t have to. The look in my eyes was enough to let her know what I was thinking and feeling. 

Her break was about to be over, so she placed a hand gently on top of mine, and with a small smile, left me there. 

Well, there was only one thing left to do. Get another coffee, and maybe something sweet to drown my sorrows in. 

I took a deep breath and stood up, grabbing my empty cup to throw away when I got to the front to order. I didn’t see them anywhere now. They must have ordered already and found a seat. But truthfully, I didn’t look around for them long. I didn’t want to. 

I ordered a black coffee and a doughnut, and waited for a second for them to hand me my order instead of going back to my table to wait. Sometimes they put too much creamer in the coffee, so this way I could go over to the cream and sugar stand and make it myself. 

Coffee and doughnut in hand, I made my way over to the small fridge they left out for customers to put in their own creamer and milk. I wasn’t really feeling the flavored seasonal creamers they had, so I just grabbed the half and half and started pouring. I didn’t really want any sugar either. I had my doughnut, which I probably wouldn’t even eat to be honest. My stomach was in knots. 

A sudden voice behind me knocked me out of my thoughts. 

“All cream, no sugar, huh? I’m the total opposite.”

I was so startled that my hand seemed to seize up, causing me to jerk the carton of half and half away from the cup. Now there was liquid all over the counter. 

“Oh. I’m so sorry- Here, let me. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I still hadn’t looked at who was talking to me, so when the footsteps got closer and I felt someone next to me, I decided I should finally look up. 

It was him. The guy. The one I came here for. Except now he was standing right next to me. 

He grabbed a handful of paper towels and started wiping up the mess on the counter while I stood wide-eyed and in shock. I should probably say something. 

“I’m so sorry. I was...thinking about something and you startled me. I feel so clumsy.”

He looked up at me with a hint of a smile on his face. 

“No, it’s really my fault. I’m not good at talking to people.” 

Once he had finished cleaning up, he threw the paper towels away and turned back towards me. 

“What’s your name? I see you in here sometimes. I guess you could say we’re both regulars.”

A lump formed in my throat that I had to swallow down forcefully. He saw me in here sometimes? He noticed me? Did he ever see me looking at him? Oh no. 

“Um, my name is (Y/N). I see you in here sometimes too. The coffee here is really good, yeah?”

He smiled again, but bigger and more pronounced this time. Nodding his head, he shifted his bag and looked back at me. 

“My name’s Spencer. It’s nice to officially meet you.” 

Now it was my turn to smile. This was going pretty good, all things considered. It’s too bad about that girl he’s with, though. Speaking of the girl, she was walking towards us right now. Fantastic. Just what my anxiety needed. 

“Spencer, we just got a call. Did you not pay attention to your phone?” the woman said in a hurry as she came closer. 

Spencer jumped a bit and started to dig in his pocket for his phone. He pulled it out and laughed nervously. 

“I have it on silent. Whoops.” 

The woman rolled her eyes and then seemed to notice me standing there. 

“Ohh, I see. You had it on mute so you could talk to this girl you were telling me about, hmm? Better hope I don’t tell Hotch”

Spencer opened and closed his mouth a few times, and I was simply shocked. He wanted to talk to me? Like, on purpose? He told this woman about me?

“I’ll meet you outside, Emily,” Spencer groaned at her.

The woman named Emily smiled at me and winked before leaving. So now it was just me and Spencer, standing awkwardly together. Great. 

“I, um...ignore her. She’s a colleague from work...and apparently my wing woman now.”

I couldn’t help but sigh in relief. So she was just a friend. I had gotten myself all sad and anxious for nothing. Honestly, that’s typical for me though, so…

I could only smile. So much so that it made my cheeks hurt. 

“So, do you have to leave? For work or something?”

Spencer shifted his weight nervously.

“Yeah, I um, yeah I’m sorry. I really would like to stay and talk more. I hope you don’t find it weird I told her about you, by the way. I just notice you in here a lot and I think you’re really pretty and I just-”

He cut himself off suddenly and looked at me sadly.

“I have to go, but here.” 

Hurriedly, he pulled out a scrap piece of paper from his bag and a pen. He leaned over the counter and quickly wrote his name and number on the paper and handed it to me somewhat forcefully. 

“Text me or call me...you know, if you want. Um, I really have to go. I’m sorry.”

He turned on his heel and began walking towards the door. 

“Spencer!” I called across the shop.

Spencer stopped in his tracks and turned to look at me, almost with an excited glint in his eye.

I held the paper he gave me gently in my hand and took a deep breath to calm my pounding heart.

“I noticed you, too.”

[libraryofnesta]

Tied to Ruin

ao3 link

Summary:

Cassian and Nesta were lovers, partners in crime. They did everything together. That is until tragedy strikes, causing Nesta to run away, far from everything she once knew.

Over five years later, Nesta is living life to as full as it can get. It’s not until an incident occurs that drags her into far more than she bargained for.

Notes:

thanks so much for reading. i'm a huge hoe for exes to lovers, so i have like 20 ideas in my head, and this is one of them. It's multichapter. i'm not sure how long this is gonna be, but definitely over ten chapter. this fic has two timelines. One will show them from when they're kids to teens, and one while they're adults. Both will occur at the same time, so things will start to unravel as you read.btw! velaris is gonna be like a super small town in new york. like no one knows about it.

TW: implied domestic violence, nothing graphic.

Chapter 1: lonely beds, different cities

Words, how little they mean

When you're a little too late

I stood right by the tracks

Your face in a locket

Good girls, hopeful they'll be and long they will wait

-

Sad Beautiful Tragic

Taylor Swift

2016, Small Town Velaris

“Please,” she whispers, voice hoarse. Nesta is practically begging at this point, but she has nothing else to relent to. “We can get out of here.” She swallows hard when he doesn’t reply. “We’re still young Cassian, we can still-”

“Nesta.” He says. It's one word, but it makes her pause. He rarely calls her Nesta. It’s always ‘Nes’ or ‘Sweetheart.’

“I can’t.”

Their lives have changed so drastically over the past few weeks. Nesta’s whole childhood is here. Everything she’s ever known. She’s not sure how much more of it she can handle now.

She’s well aware of the tears streaming down her face. Nesta doesn’t know what she can say to convince him, so she says the one thing that she’s been repeating over and over.

“You can…”

Cassian’s face seems to harden. The look he gives her makes her take a step back. He hasn’t looked at her like that in years. “Go ahead and leave Nesta.”, he says, voice rising. “Go live that picture perfect you always wanted. I won’t stop you.”

“Not everyone wants what you do.”

2021 New York, Manhattan

Something about leaving Valkyrians still makes her feel at odds. She’s not as resistant to the sight of blood anymore, and she’s not sure if she can ride a motorcycle as well as she used to. There are still parts that linger though. She still remembers how to throw a punch. A damn good one too. She still feels uneasy when someone walks in the same direction for too long though. It might be the worst part of it all.

Nesta doesn’t do much for fun.  She doesn’t dance as much as she likes. The amount of books she reads has decreased. Her days consist of work and eating, even though she skips more meals than she should. But she’s free. That’s what really matters, doesn’t it?

The muscles in Nesta’s body ache. She just finished a seven hour shift, and got a promotion that pays much better. Nesta wants to celebrate. She wants to talk to someone. It’s been so long since she’s talked to anyone. The fear of someone finding out about her past is lodged so deep in her head it caused her to isolate. The simple way of putting it is she has no friends.

Coworkers are the only source of non-work related conversation she engages in. It’s always small talk too. Just as Nesta is about to fall asleep, she rubs her eyes and forces herself to stay awake. Getting up from the lumpy couch, Nesta walks to her cabinet, grabbing a random mug and pouring wine into it. Once she gets a better look at the mug, she can’t help but scoff.

It’s ironic. Complaining about being lonely. It’s almost like she chose loneliness. She loves the quiet. When she was younger, all she wanted was alone time. She dreads it now. Nesta gets up after finishing her glass.  She’s a bit drowsy, and is way too tired to walk all the way to her room. Instead Nesta walks back over to her couch. She lies horizontally, staring into the abyss until she eventually falls asleep.

She dreams of seeing him that night. It’s a regular occurrence. It’s lessened over the years, but never fully disappeared. The image of him is blurry. It’s not as precise as it used to be. She hates still thinking of him. It doesn’t stop her from reminiscing a little though.

Her being upset makes sense of course. They’d known each other for over ten years, hating one another at first. Eventually, he began to grow on her. Their bickering had become playful, before they once again became estranged.

“Cassian?”

The figure turns around, and he knocks the wind out of her. His hair is out of it’s usual bun.  He gives her that familiar boyish smile, walking towards her and putting an arm on her.

“Missed me Sweetheart?”, he says, ruffling her hair a bit. Nesta scrunches her nose in response.

“You wish.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah yeah whatever.” He talks for a while. Nesta’s barely paying attention. It’s just nice to hear his voice again. He asks her what she’s reading, and she replies the same every time. It’s silent after a while. They’ve talked themselves out. It’s a nice silence though. Her favorite silence.

Cassian stares at her for a few seconds, giving her a soft smile and pushing a loose hair behind her ear.

“Come back,” he whispers.

Her breath stutters. “It’s been five years, Cass,” she mutters, breaking eye contact. Her eyes flicker between the ground and his face, gauging his reaction.

He doesn’t stop looking at her.

“I didn’t want to leave,” said Nesta. There’s a lump in her throat.

He scrubs a hand over his face. “Yet here we are.”

“You know why I left.”

Her eyes feel like they’re beginning to water. “I asked you to come with me. You’re the one who didn’t.”

Cassian looks to the side. He looks impassive, yet also emotionless. “You’re the one who ran away, Nesta.”

“I didn’t run away.”

He scoffs in response. “Keep telling yourself that.” Cassian starts walking away. It’s cloudy and has no solid ground or sky. At that moment she remembers where she really is. Nesta stands there, waiting until he fully fades away. It always feels too real.

The dreams always end like that.

Nesta can barely pry her eyes open when she wakes up. She has the next two weeks off. Her boss, Helion, had insisted she take a week or two off, since the bar was under a small renovation. She checks her phone and it reads 12:03. Jesus, she really had overslept.

In all honesty Nesta had no idea what to do with her free time. Maybe she’ll finally finish that book she started months ago. But in reality Nesta knows all she’ll do is go to a bar and let a stranger fuck her into oblivion until she kicks them out or leaves.

By the time Nesta leaves her house it’s around 3:00.  She goes to the coffee shop next door. She orders a coffee and sits in the corner of the room. Nesta somehow feels like the center of attention. It’s an empty shop, but it feels like all eyes on her. The room feels too cold.

The feeling follows her when she goes to the local bookstore. It’s crowded, but the area is quiet. Nesta browses through the shelves, sticking to the romance section. She holds a few books. It’s not until Nesta drops one, people begin to look at her. It makes a loud thump hitting the floor. Several pairs of eyes turn to her. The cover is of a shirtless man too.

Fuck , she thinks, This is embarrassing. Nesta purses her lips, hand curling into a fist as she puts the book back on it’s shelf.

It’s around 5:00 when she takes the train home. Nesta spent the rest of her day at the park, not wanting to stay at home. It doesn’t feel like home as much as she’d like it to though. Finally, Nesta makes it home.

She’s in an empty parking lot. The area she lives in is pretty small.  Nesta knows basically everyone in her apartment complex. It’s a tiny place. She never talks to anyone, but they do acknowledge each other. Barely anyone has a car either, herself included. So it is a bit weird to see an unrecognizable car. It’s odd, but Nesta thinks nothing of it. It’s probably just someone visiting.

Nesta goes into her apartment, before leaving once more to go to the bar that’s the second closest to her apartment. She’s usually working at this time, flirting with customers and taking them home when her shift ends.

The bar is crowded and loud. Lights are flashing, voices yelling, bodies moving. It’s out of her comfort zone. She’s been doing this for years and is still isn’t used to it. She sits on one of the stools where the drinks are served. A girl approaches her. Nesta never approaches anyone. She can’t see clearly in the light. The girl’s hair is brunette, though her roots are dark. Her brown skin illuminates in the flickering light.

“Hey”, she says “I’m Nora” Nora extends her hand to her. Nesta smirks in response, resting her elbow on the counter grasping her hand with the other.

“I’m Mila,” she says. No matter what she does, Nesta will never use her real name. Nora’s eyebrows raise. Nesta can see her lick tongue move as it pushes on her skin.

“Pretty name.”

They talk for around five minutes. It’s all small talk. They drink while they talk. Most of the things she responds with are lies anyways. Nora grasp’s her arm with her hand. “Wanna get out of here?” she asks. Her words are slurred, and Nesta has to restrain herself from flinching.

Something in her head tells her not to let anyone in her house though. Something is wrong, but she can’t put her mind on it. The idea of letting a stranger in her house sends goosebumps across her arms. Before, she’d never question it twice. Now that she thinks of it, doing this practically screams stranger danger. Especially with her past, this person could be anyone. Nesta slowly probes herself from the girl.

“I’ve gotta go”, she says. “Sorry, but there's something I need to do.” The girl doesn't seem to mind, either too drunk to care, or only looking for a one night stand. She nods, before introducing herself to someone else. Nesta feels her chest lighten, exiting the crowded bar to call an uber.

Whenever it’s quiet, she always reminisces.

2006, Small Town Velaris

Nesta wakes up and finds herself stranded. She has no idea where she is. She’s lying in a bed inside a mostly empty room. There’s only a few pieces of furniture, a stool and a drawer. It’s relatively small.  The last thing she remembers is being in a car with her sisters and parents. She hears voices outside of the room yelling.

“You expect me to leave-”

“Her father is-”

“She’s nine what would she-”

“So what if she’s young!”

“-s innocent so what if-”

She hears a loud smack. The silence after is deafening. The voices are quiet after, whispers. Afterwards, Nesta hears footsteps approaching. She scrunches her eyes shut, trying to pretend to be asleep. Nesta hears the door open and close. A hand lays on her forehead. As the person removes it, a calming voice talks. “Are you awake?” Nesta slowly looks at the person, opening only one eye, then another. She sees a woman with black hair and tan skin. Her cheeks are flushed and she has a small smile on her face.

The woman squats down so she’s the same height as the bed Nesta is laying on. “Hi,” the woman whispers, voice solemn and comforting. “My names Aurora,” she says. Nesta squishes her lips together. She’s confused and feels like crying. Nesta doesn’t cry though. She’s pretty sure her eyes water though, because Aurora strokes her hair and whispers, “It’s okay to cry.”

Nesta gasps and shakes her head. “Mommy says I’m not supposed to cry.” Aurora seems to be shocked silent. The silence makes Nesta become aware of everything that is happening. She slowly sits up. Once her feet are off the bed, Nesta quickly sprints to the door, opening it and running out. She has no idea where she’s going.

Suddenly, Nesta is hit with a hard impact, and falls down on her butt. She looks up and sees two boys. They’re both around the same height. They have the same dark hair too, except one is longer than the other. Nesta gets up and brushes off the dust on her leggings.

She notices it then. The leggings. She’s never worn pants before.

It’s also when she notices the juice smeared across one of the boy's shirts. It’s the long haired one’s. He drops the red cup to the ground and makes an angry noise. “That was my favorite shirt.”

Nesta feels sheepish as she whispers a quiet, “Sorry.”

The one with longer hair whispers to the other boy, obviously meaning for her to hear too. “She’s probably not even double digits.” The other boy is quiet, looking at the ground. He seems nervous and shy.

Nesta feels a sense of outrage course through her. She pouts, crossing her arms. “I’m almost ten. I’m nine and a half” The boy crosses his arms too.

“Well I’m ten and a half,” he says.

“Cassian,” Aurora scolds. “Play nice.” She puts a hand on Nesta’s shoulder and bends down. “I need to talk to…” She doesn’t continue.

Nesta turns towards her, and realizes she needs her name. “Nesta,” she says.

Aurora smiles, “That’s a wonderful name.”

Cassian still seems angry. “I think it’s stupid.” Aurora sighs and gets up. “Azriel”, she says to the other boy. He hadn’t talked the whole time, Nesta almost forgot he was there. “Make sure he stays out of trouble. And Cassian, please change your shirt.” The two (stupid) boys walk away. Once they’re from a far enough distance, Aurora looks back down at her. “I have to talk to you about something.”

2021 New York, Manhattan

Nesta walks into her apartment tired and half asleep. Once inside her apartment, she changes into more comfortable clothes, sweatpants and a grey t-shirt.

Nesta’s about to go to bed, until she hears the sound of glass shattering and liquid spilling. She freezes, thinking about the mug of wine she left out.  

No.

Nesta scrambles towards the kitchen and grabs a flashlight from a cabinet, flashing the light to the ground. The mug is shattered to pieces, and she can still see little droplets of wine. The words aren’t visible anymore, letters broken and unreadable.

There’s no way it could’ve fallen on its own. It was in the middle of her counter. Unless...

Suddenly it all makes sense. The unrecognizable car in the parking lot. The uneasy feeling in her stomach. The constant nagging in her head, telling her that something is wrong.

She thinks about calling the police but goes against it. Years in a fucking biker gang taught her better then to trust those scumbags.

She always kept a gun in her house. Just in case. She really hates how no matter what she does. she’ll always be connected to this.

The person inside her apartment most definitely knows where she is. Nesta grabs a broom, sweeping the glass shards into an empty bag. She can fix it later. Tying it up, Nesta leaves it on her counter.

There's a wall blocking the entrance to her bathroom. She walks towards it, opening and closing the door so it seems she went inside. Grabbing her gun from the small drawer, Nesta lays her back against the wall, barely peeking out the wall, but just enough so she can see them as they crawl out from behind her couch.

The figure moves stealthily, back turned towards her. If she weren’t directly staring at it, there would be no way of knowing it was there. The moves look familiar, but she can’t put her mind on it. The moonlight shines on them so she can see the most obvious features. It’s not until the floor creaks the figure turns towards her direction. Nesta turns back to face her bathroom door, hands drawn to tight fists. There’s no way they hadn’t seen her. She moved too slow. Nesta peeks her head out to look again.

It’s not until she sees a familiar pair of scarred hands in the moonlight, it all comes together.

“Azriel Night?”

In dreams

I meet you in warm conversation

We both wake

In lonely beds

In different cities

And time

Is taking its sweet time erasing you

And you've got your demons

And darlin' they all look like me

PSA!! go to ask’s to be added to tag list

[thestorycfus]

The Sweetest Apparition - Part 3

Pairing: Peggy Carter x fem!Reader

Summary: Reader is a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and historian who specializes in the life and legacy of Captain Carter. After Nick Fury uses the Tesseract to bring Peggy back, the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. contacts the reader to help her navigate life in the XXI century.

Warnings and notes: Food, mentions of Steggy, mentions of Stucky, very small mentions of war. Other characters are also mentioned. This got way longer than the first two parts, but there’s also way more Peggy here. This series takes place after the last scene of What If… episode one, including spoilers to that episode. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

Word count: 2,304

Series Masterlist

It should be a short walk to your apartment, but you made a small stop each time Captain Carter was curious about something. You also got some take out on the way, making sure to pick at least four different options from separate places and a couple of desserts too, since you didn’t know her taste yet. It was a while before you made it to your street.

During the entire time, your chatting was limited to safe topics - how loud and bright the city was, how many screens there were, the amount of coffee options that existed now. You watched Carter fall in love with her caramel coffee and made a mental note to buy her more sweets.

Soon, the Captain would also need to go shopping. Fury had gotten her the formal white blouse and the black pants she wore now, an outfit much more discreet than the uniform she was wearing when she fell, but that was her entire wardrobe at the moment. That was another mission you should handle, but it could wait until after lunch.

When you finally got home, you placed the food over a kitchen counter and gave Carter a quick tour of the apartment. It wasn’t much, but hopefully it would be enough for both of you until she was more familiar with this century. The tour ended where it started: in your tiny kitchen. You pulled a stool for the Captain and presented her with the options for lunch.

“I suppose you’ve never tried some of those, so I got a few different meals. Burritos, sweet and sour chicken, calzones and Pad Thai. For dessert, there’s lemon tart and triple chocolate cake. I might have gotten a little carried away.”

Peggy took a seat and examined her options. You wondered if that would be, technically her first meal since the 40’s.

“They are all tempting, but I might start with this one.” Her eyes were fixated on a burrito as if it was the Holy Grail. Yeah, that was surely the first time she ate in seventy years. She dove in, so focused on her meal that you didn’t dare to interrupt. Meanwhile, you took the other stool and picked a calzone, eating it while you watched Carter.

You were still trying to wrap your head around the fact that she was really here, and it was surprising that you hadn’t completely freaked out so far, but the prospect of the rest of the day started to worry you. The Captain would certainly have a lot of questions and, if there were inquiries that Fury left for you to answer, they probably pertained more to her personal life than to great historical events.

If the registers about her were right, it wouldn’t be long before the real conversation started. Peggy Carter was too smart to have such a debate in the middle of the street, but she wasn’t known for stalling. As soon as she finished her meal, in the privacy of your (now shared) kitchen, you would have to provide about seven decades of answers.

Before you could try to prepare yourself, she was done with her second burrito. You almost suggested dessert, but the look she gave you left no room for pauses. Carter turned on her stool to face you directly, her posture becoming straighter and her eyes never leaving yours. She was the perfect image of Captain Carter, the hero, the legend who defeated all odds. Still, when she spoke, there was softness in her voice.

“The meal was lovely and so is the apartment. I can’t thank you enough for you kindness, Agent L/N, but I must ask a few things more of you. If you have studied about my life, you must know what happened to Steve Rogers after I was gone.”

You should be ready for that. Of course her first personal concern would be about Rogers. His story with Carter went down in history as a tragic tale of love, bravery and loss. To his last days, Rogers had made it his mission to honor her legacy, but that wasn’t all that he did. How do you tell a person that the love of her life went on to live a decades long, fulfilling relationship with someone else, even though, from her perspective, they were together the day before?

“Please, call me Y/N. And you can ask anything, Captain. I will tell you everything I can.” You took a deep breath, going through the words in your head in search of the best way to let her know. It was best to keep nothing out. Carter deserved that. “Steve Rogers continued to serve as the Hydra Stomper until the war had ended and all known Hydra operations had been eliminated. After that, he stepped out of the suit so that Howard Stark could continue his research with the Tesseract. I believe neither of them ever gave up on bringing you back, but, in many ways, they also moved on to build new lives.”

You made a small pause, in case she wanted to say something, but Carter only gave you a nod, encouraging you to continue. It was impossible to look away from her eyes, or to keep anything hidden when she stared at you with such intensity. Even in silence, sitting still, she emanated a power that kept you talking.

“A few years after the war, Rogers and Stark started an intelligence agency to keep the world safe from threats we could barely understand. They named it S.H.I.E.L.D., because of you. That is the agency I work for, directed by Nick Fury.” There was something poetic in the way that same agency ended up being the reason Peggy Carter was back, but it wasn’t your place to point that out. “Rogers never stopped fighting, even without the suit. He was a legendary agent, working along with James Barnes until they retired. They were also together for the rest of their lives.”

That was the piece of information you feared would break Carter’s heart, but she had a bright smile after hearing that.

“That suits them. All of them.” The joy in her voice sounded so sincere, and you couldn’t help but ask.

“Were you and Rogers… Together? It is said so in the official files, but…” In your studies, you sometimes wondered if their relationship was just a myth, maybe a publicity stunt to humanize the fallen super soldier. It was your job to question the data, but you had never paid that possibility much attention until now.

Instead of being offended by your invasion of her privacy, Carter laughed so lightly and freely that you felt your cheeks getting warm.

“Oh, darling, Steve Rogers had a heart too big to have only one soul mate. He was the love of my life, yes, and I was the love of his, but not the only one. A love so beautiful and dedicated is supposed to be shared. Of course I’m sad I didn’t get to share the rest of his life with him, but I’m relieved to know that he and Bucky had each other. And that’s not to say I’m a being of such virtue that I’m above jealousy. I felt jealous of Steve alright, many times, but I could never be jealous of him with Buck. They fit well together and they were good for each other. They were real, just as Steve and I were. Steve deserved to be loved through a lifetime. I’m grateful that he was.”

Carter’s eyes shined with tears, but she didn’t allow any to fall. Maybe she would let herself grief for the lost possibilities later, but for now she was handling such an emotional journey with more elegance than you thought possible. It didn’t seem to be an act at all. On the contrary, what touched you the most was the honesty in her words. That selflessness of being genuinely happy to hear of how her soul mate lived on without her, in love with someone else, told you more about Peggy Carter than any history book ever had. And that’s how she reacted right after being thrown into the next century, coming directly from a war and landing in a world she didn’t recognize.

“I don’t think history ever made you justice, Captain. The general public thinks of you as a hero, but they’re so far from knowing the person behind the suit... You know, it’s very nice to meet you.” You couldn’t help but sharing a bit of what was on your mind. To that moment, your hero was turning out to be even better than your daydreams, and it was only fair to let her know so.

At that, she gave you a big smile and your heart skipped a beat. You would have a hard time sharing an apartment with this woman.

“You are far too kind to me. To be honest, they never showed much interest on me, suit or not, until I went against official orders and started throwing tanks around and fighting the battles that needed to be fought. I am more concerned about what I am able to achieve, regardless of how they will see me. And there’s no need to call me Captain, Y/N. Heavens, we live and work together now and you’re my guide to modern life. Peggy is fine. And it’s nice to meet you too.” She took the initiative to get a slice of chocolate cake, already making herself at home. You had the feeling that her adaptation to this world wouldn’t be too difficult, all things considered. Peggy Carter would take whatever she was given and make more of it than anyone imagined possible.

“As you wish, Peggy. Speaking of that, there’s a lot I think you’ll like to see about life now. What else are you curious about?” You took your own slice of cake, trying to feel at ease in this conversation. You couldn’t be on high alert whenever Carter was around if she was going to be around all the time, but that was easier said than done. Your responsibilities here were enormous and, to be frank, you were determined to be your best self and impress her, even if just a bit. Maybe telling her about the wonders of nowadays technology would do the trick.

“I am curious about everything. I can’t wait to know all about the development of science, or what I missed in seven decades of sociopolitical turmoil, but there’s one more person I’d love to hear about before we get to that. You mentioned Howard moving on with his life, didn’t you? What exactly was that little menace up to while I was gone?”

Now, that was a rich topic of conversation.

“Well, Stark continued his research with the Tesseract and with many other projects, sometimes along with the US government, and he built a billionaire empire. Weapons, all sorts of technology, wild parties. The man had everything. He has a son, Tony, who inherited the tech, the money and the brains, but with a stronger inclination to heroism. You see, Tony Stark built himself a supersuit, partially inspired by his father’s Hydra Stomper, but with a larger variety of uses. It’s said that Steve Rogers was a sort of mentor to him, but I couldn’t get Stark to talk a lot about it when I interviewed him.”

You couldn’t tell which part made Peggy more excited. She nodded along as you listed Howard Stark’s achievements, as if it was all expected, and her eyes got wider when you told her about his son. When you mentioned Rogers, she almost jumped in her seat. She was already invested, but dropping that name sealed the deal.

“Fury gave me this.” She took two business cards out of her pocket. “It has his telephone number and Barton’s too. Could I use your telephone to call him? I would like to meet this Tony Stark, and I bet Fury would be able to reach him.” 

Giving Director Fury a call from your cellphone felt strange, but how could you deny Peggy that? If the Director gave her the number, he wanted her to be able to reach him, right? 

Instead of dialing yourself, you showed Carter how to use the phone. She looked like a kid on Christmas whenever she was given access to new technology. You would make sure she got a cellphone of her own soon so you could show her everything the device could do. 

She called Fury and you waited as they talked for less than two minutes. Peggy handed you the phone when she was done, with a smile that said she got what she wanted.

“So, what did the Director say?” You asked, anxious to know the outcome of the call.

“We’re meeting Tony Stark tomorrow at 2pm in his tower. Was it him who named it Stark tower or is that Howard’s doing?” She narrowed her eyes a bit, still smiling.

“The tower was built by Tony, so I think we can’t blame Howard for that one.” You joked. “Are you meeting Fury at S.H.I.E.L.D. before you two go to Stark’s?”

“Oh, Fury is not going. He booked the meeting for you and me, if you would like to accompany me.” Peggy sounded hesitant, as if she had just considered that you might not want to join her on that plan. 

"You’re asking me if I wish to be there when Captain Carter meets Tony Stark? Please, if I didn’t get the chance to be a part of that exchange, I would beg you for a detailed retelling as soon as you got home.” 

Your reply made Peggy laugh once more, and you were getting used to that sound very quickly.

[yuzukult]

i’m bad too 18 || kdy & reader

title: i’m bad too - drabble series pairing: kim doyoung x reader genre: angst, fluff, eventual smut, goodboy!doyoung, nerdy!dy (basically he’s a dork) & badgirl!reader, hitman!au, oc-isn’t-a-hitman-but-she-could-be!au, word count: 1.8k warnings: none for this chapter a/n: just two more chapters left to the end !! :D taglist: @wownajaemin​​​​ @crescent-iak​​​​ @ncttboo​​​​ @byunbaekby​​​​​ @jinfizz​​ @doyoungyoung​​ @ahgayeah0305​​ @doyobun​​ @sexualitaeyong​ @mrkleelvr​​ @m1ss-foodi3​​ @hcwurld​​ ← previous chapter || next chapter →​​

Doyoung’s favorite drink is caramel coffee.

He doesn’t like it hot—you recall him mentioning, he prefers it iced, and he finishes it so fast that the cubes don’t melt and condensation doesn’t drip off the sides of the plastic cup.

So you shouldn’t be surprised that he’s at this very café. Especially since it is his spot, but it also shouldn’t be news to you when you’ve come here everyday for the past two weeks in hopes of running into him.

You wonder how he’s been doing. It’s been months since you’ve last seen him; forever ago since you saw him with that girl Karina, and you’re curious if he thinks about you as often as you think about him. He’s on your mind daily, sometimes by the hour depending on what you’re doing, and he feels like a drug you can’t quite quit (despite the shortage of time you’ve done fine without him).

And you admit willingly that your feelings for him come rushing back the moment you see that pretty smile dressed upon his lips when he laughs from his chest at the video his friend shows on his phone.

But you continue to sit in the corner of the shop, face behind your device as if you’re immersed in the technology when you’ve got your eyes on him the entire time.

Instagram doesn’t do justice. You never know what he’s really up to, you learn, because his feed only shows the happy pictures he poses for. But his stories—you stay for that. There’s some nights you’d catch him posting something with a scenery, a little heartfelt description written along the horizon, and it gives you a glimpse of how he’s vaguely feeling. Maybe they’re for you, well, you were hoping they were, but for a guy who isn’t the greatest in the romance department, he’s very artistic, so it wouldn’t be surprising if it weren’t for you.

Maybe it was for Karina.

Okay, there might be a slight chance that you were bitter about that chick. She hung out with Doyoung often, from what you speculate, possibly involved in the same friend group, having mutuals together (which, already is how she’s so different from you). She roughly reminds you of that emotion that runs through your veins when you first saw Doyoung talking to Joy; that clenched jaw, tightened fist, and a deep swallow to push down all your anger. Joy was just a friend, and you eventually learned that without having to go the hard route, but Karina… didn’t give you any reason to believe her friendly motives. But Doyoung isn’t yours, you have to remind yourself, and because he isn’t, there’s no need to get upset.

For one, the times you followed (don’t judge, you missed him but didn’t want to approach him if he wasn’t ready) him, Karina always stuck to Doyoung like glue. She was practically joined by the hip; batting her pretty long lashes, cheeks brushed with that coral pink blush like she’s all embarrassed because sweet boy Doyoung accidentally touched the back of her hand, and whenever she got the chance, she’d hold onto his arm tightly, pretending that she couldn’t catch her balance in those Ultraboost sneakers that were basically socks on a sole with no support.

“Ugh, you always do this,” one of his friends says, loud enough that you could hear from where you’re sitting. “How do you manage to beat me every time?”

“I learned the tricks,” Doyoung retorts, voice stable but his face all smug. “Doesn’t look like you did though.”

The other guy rolls his eyes before tossing his phone onto the table. “Forget that dumb game. I’m actually curious about something,” he begins, leaning over with his forearms pressed against the surface. There’s a mischievous smile that tugs on the ends of his mouth, and you rest back in your seat in curiosity when his tone changes. “You and Karina. What are the two of you?”

You nearly snap the pen you’d been fiddling in your hand.

Fucking Karina. Again. This bitch just keeps being brought up, doesn’t she?

Doyoung shifts in his seat, hands with his phone dropping onto his lap. A brow quirks, narrowing a strange gaze at his friend. “Why are you asking?”

“Mmm, heard there’s rumors going around about Karina liking you.”

“And,” Doyoung takes a sip of his iced coffee. “Why’s that matter?”

The friend clicks his tongue, groaning that Doyoung isn’t picking up the not-so-subtle hints. “Because. Have you seen her? Or are you just blind. She’s smokin’ hot like… literally any guy would want to get with her. And you too, which is kinda crazy—”

“—is it impossible to believe that someone attractive can like me?”

“I mean, no offense Doyoung, you don’t exactly look like the type that would sweep those types of girls off their feet. You spent most of the time indoors! Watching movies, playing games, maybe sometimes you go out to clubs and parties but barely and it’s with our geeky friends. Even I can come to terms that I’m a geek. Jocks or bad boys are what she would be into.”

Doyoung sighs. “Where are you going with this?”

“You should date her. Since, you know, you have that chance.”

He shrugs, bending the straw of his drink like he’s occupied with something else that’s going on in his mind. He’s quieter than usual, especially around a friend, and it’s left you pondering what’s got him so tied up. But then, you hear it.

“I’m waiting for someone.”

His guy scoffs in belief. “You’re waiting for someone. Who? That chick you were having friends with benefits with like a year ago? Dude, she was also out of your league. Rode a motorcycle, didn’t talk to anyone, hot, and somehow you got her attention. But dude, she’s been gone for a while now.”

Doyoung purses his lips. “Told her to come to me whenever she’s ready. Karina and I don’t really have something like… that. Not worth dropping the chances of her coming back and seeing me with Karina.”

“She’s got you that bad?”

A soft smile pulls on his lips, and he nods confidently. “Yeah, she does.”

When Doyoung and his friend pack up their bags to leave, he halts in his tracks. “Actually, you head out first. I’ll meet you later tonight, I won’t be going to the pre-game.”

The latter stares at Doyoung suspiciously. “Really? What’s up with you? Thought you said you were tagging along.”

“Yeah but… I gotta do something real quick. I’ll meet up with you.”

Strange, you think to yourself, because Doyoung seemed like he was going to leave too, until that very last second. Then, you notice something. When his friend leaves through those double doors, he turns and looks directly at you.

At you. Like he sees you.

You’re not a ghost, but you’re pretty good at camouflaging yourself with a crowd. You’re not the prettiest nor the ugliest, so being average has an advantage in this field, but Doyoung isn’t like normal people. He sees you, and even though you’re in a black baseball cap with casual clothes to match, he still can spot you in a sea of people.

“You’re here,” he says, his tone between a question and a statement. Part of you expects him to be angry, fuming with rage because you’re here instead of asking him to meet up. “You’re… actually here.”

“I’m surprised you found me,” you retort, standing up from your seat and gathering up your belongings. “I thought I was good at blending with people.”

“I’m in love with you, you expect me to not see the girl I’m head over heels for?”

You pause.

Bag not even slung over your shoulder, your heart does the complete opposite of your motions and races. He what?

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” Doyoung straightens his posture, trying his best to read the expression on your face. “Why… Why haven’t you called or reached out? Were you not ready until now?”

“I thought… you had a girlfriend,” you admitted, and truthfully, you’re not sure how Doyoung manages to get you to spill out your insecurities so easily. His eyes widened, and before he could say anything else, you interrupt his train of thought. “But that was months ago. It’s fine. I trained, and I’m back in the field, and I wanted to see how you were doing, that's all.”

“But you didn’t want to call me?”

You clear your throat, drifting your gaze elsewhere. “Like I said before. Thought you had a girlfriend. I don’t want to interfere with anything in your life that could be normal.”

He has a finger on your chin, directing your attention back to him. Your heart skips a beat this time, air sucked out of your lungs from his stare, and you swallow. “I waited for you, though. If you’re ready to come back, please come back. I have never dated anyone since I left your place, and I don’t intend to either. I made a promise and I’m keeping it.”

You hated reporting here.

There’s something ominous about this warehouse; it’s not just the people who occupy it, but it’s the building itself. Outside, it looks like an abandoned stone mill. Worn down walls, windows shattered, and located in a dangerous neighborhood, secluded from all the up-and-coming buildings that are being constructed a couple blocks down. The cars that came for drop off didn’t come here either, so it made the building even more mysterious and seemingly empty.

But the moment you stepped in the front doors—it’s like a factory.

A factory that manufactured everything from guns, grenades, to bombs, and so on. Everything that you wore on missions, everything you held between your fingertips, and everything you utilized in the field were all made here.

The headquarters.

Upon entering, you had to go through security. Guns are to be logged in, identities are checked through the system, quick but yet thorough pat down, and phones are chipped until you leave the premises. Needless to say, they were careful and even someone like you with so much skill and worthiness cannot go undetected here.

“Boss is asking for you.” A gorgeous girl says, clipboard in her arms. She’s got her hair tied in a low bun, glasses on with thick frames, and a pencil skirt to pair with her white blouse.

“I asked for boss, but yeah, that.”

She nods, bowing her head just slightly and you’re wondering how she even got in this field. Shy, quiet, and fragile, she seems, and you wonder if she knows what’s actually happening around here. “Please follow me.”

She takes you down a narrow hallway, far from where the other workers were posted, and takes you through these metal doors that looked too heavy for her to push, but the guards standing by the sides do it for her instead.

“Head on in. He’s waiting.”

“Right,” you gesture her a head nod in thanks.

Taeyong is seated at his desk, two additional guards standing on either side of the wood, and he’s fidgeting with the pen in his hand. “Lookie here. Our star player. Ten’s little sister. What do I owe the honor?”

“I want out.”

[studiobeebo]

~♡ Winter Warmth ♡~

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

Warnings: None

Words: 2.1K

Genre: warm and soft like mash potato. 

A/N: has this trope of sharing winter clothes been done a million times? yes. will that stop me? no.

as per usual, reblogs are the best way to get my works around since tags tend to be unreliable so they’re greatly appreciated! enjoy!

“You didn’t bring a scarf. Or a hat. Or anything.”

Your current ‘mission’ partner’s characteristically irritated tone broke you out of your current daze as you shifted your eyes towards him as the two of you walked side by side, close enough that it was clear the two of you were at least friends, but not so close that things were...weird.

“Oh, no..” You hummed, a puff of steam escaping with your words and just as soon evaporating into the cold winter air. “To be honest I didn’t think it would be this cold. Oh- but it’s not that bad, no worries.”

He looked at you for a second before shrugging and facing forward once again, the previous silence between the two of you settling back in as your eyes drifted back to your right where rows and rows of shop windows twinkled with Christmas lights and other inviting decorations. 

See, the so called ‘mission’ the two of you had been sent on wasn’t really a mission at all, it was more like an errand to satisfy everyone back at school’s ‘urgent’ need for a variety of coffees, hot chocolate’s, and tea lattes, which didn’t sound like much, however your oh so gracious sensei insisted you go to this very specific cafe that was about a half an hour walk away instead of the one that was barely a ten minute walk away. Fushiguro seemed particularly annoyed with that, but then again, when wasn’t he annoyed by one thing or another.

The only thing was that you assumed he was bothered because Gojō had made yet another needlessly difficult request of him, however while he was annoyed with Gojō , that wasn’t exactly the reason why. The reason he was particularly peeved was because his teacher said the two of you just haaad to go together. “It’s safer that way.” , he said “Treat it like a mission!”, he said.

Bullshit. 

Gojō was testing him on something even he didn’t want to think about, let alone admit to. Fushiguro told him one thing, ONE THING about you, just an off handed comment on how much you had improved using your cursed technique in such a short amount of time, and that’s all it took for Gojō to give him that fucking look. At least, Fushiguro thought it was only one thing, but the more Gojō started making little comments about the two of them, about how he thinks they’d be sooo cute together, he realized that maybe he had been unconsciously talking about you more than he thought. That was true too, but he wasn’t one for much talk and the little that he did say wasn’t enough to tip Gojō or anyone else off about his apparent interest in you. As it turns out, the phrase ‘actions speak louder than words’ is true, and that’s especially so for someone as observant as Gojō is.

He saw all the little things that most people probably didn’t have a second thought about, but he had known Megumi for a long time now so to him, his actions were clear as day. The little touches on your shoulder to gently move you out of the way, the way he would tend to gravitate towards you whenever all of you first years were on missions together, how distracted he’d be if you had a bit of a hard time fighting off a curse. Gojō could go on and on about the tiny ways Megumi treated you better, with more care, than anyone else, but he chose not to pester him too aggressively. He knew if he did that, Megumi would shut him down just as aggressively and dig deeper into the denial about his feelings for you. So instead, Gojō pushed him in little ways, like teaming you two together for training practices and in this case, sending you out together to get drinks.

Megumi knew that of course, that Gojō was messing with him, but man was it hard to say no when your face lit up and you exclaimed that you could actually go for a hot chocolate. So now here you were, walking side by side in silence that was currently doing nothing but make him overthink. Should he say something? Would that be weird? Or were you off put by the fact that he wasn’t saying anything? All the while he had that usual grumpy look on his face that was really just one of concentration, but you didn’t take it to heart regardless. You had known him long enough now to know that even when he did look upset, he kind of just had a resting grumpy face and it didn’t necessarily mean anything. Still, you would admit that you were feeling a bit awkward.

You liked Fushiguro, maybe a tad bit more than what you admitted to your other friends, but while the two of you were friendly and worked just fine together, you had never really spent time alone with one another outside of school, and as you walked through the slightly crowded sidewalks you realized you didn’t really know how he felt about you. Sure you were associates and classmates, but did he see you in that way? Did he only tolerate you? Or maybe he was just indifferent, not thinking of you as much more or much less than someone he worked along side. Even though you didn’t have any answers to said questions, you couldn’t say you were nervous to be out with him. In fact it was kind of nice, even if you weren’t talking much, and you were okay with settling and just internally gushing about it to yourself. So you kept to yourself with a slight smile on your face, stopping for a second here or there when something in one of the shop windows caught your eye or to press your cold hands to your mouth and blow warm air onto them.

You had said you were fine, but the temperature seemed to keep dropping, and when you felt a small damp prickle of iciness on your nose you realized why. That one snowflake slowly turned to many as snow began to fall steadily from the sky, catching on your hair and jacket but melting as soon as it came in contact with your cheeks. 

“Pfft, no wonder it’s gotten so cold. I seriously thought we weren’t going to get any snow until later on in the season, right?” You asked, turning to him with a laugh as you rubbed your arms as if that would do much to help through your coat. 

“Guess not.”, he said with another shrug. “Doesn’t look like it’ll stick though, we should be fine.”

He peered out of the corner of his eye at you, watching as you shoved your hands into your pockets and gave him a nod before looking up as you walked to watch the snow fall in a childlike awe. Something ticked in him, another one of those little irritating itches that he would get whenever you would do something like that. Something so simple, yet he couldn’t bring himself to look away. That, and the irrational part of him that was currently screaming at him to do something stupid, an internal voice that was getting louder and louder with every fall of a snowflake and shiver of your shoulders until finally he just had to give in.

He let out an annoyed huff, not at you but at the fact that he felt so stupid and absurdly flustered as he unwrapped his scarf and took his gloves off, temporarily shoving them into one pocket as he stopped to lean over and wrap his scarf snuggly around your neck instead. You jumped a little in surprise as you tore your eyes from the sky and gave him a quizzical look, but before you could say anything a pair of gloves that were a little too big for you were shoved into your hands as well. 

“Oh, thank you but I’m really-“

“It’s fine.” He cut you off, but not in a mean way. You noticed the hint of pink on his cheeks, but surely that was due to the cold, right? He sighed again in an attempt to make himself feel a little less tense as he continued on in a more relaxed tone. “Seriously, I was getting too warm anyways.”

Now you really couldn’t help but smile as you gave him a small nod before slipping on both gloves. They were too big just like you thought, but warm, and the fuzziness bristling in your stomach seemed to help warm you up as well. You absent mindedly tugged his scarf a little closer around you as the the two of you began to walk again, and your own cheeks began to heat up a bit as you inhaled his scent. Though you couldn’t really pinpoint what it was, it was like a little not-so-gentle reminder that he really did just give you his scarf and gloves to wear. You tried not to let it get to you, he was just being nice and he said he was too warm anyways, but you still had to bite your inner cheek to keep yourself from smiling too wildly and risk him thinking you’re a total creep. 

“Thanks Megumi, I appreciate it.” 

Oh god no.

He thought he had steeled himself but that caused him to stop in his tracks, only for a moment or two, before his body went into self preservation mode and moved on its own, but the way his heart skipped a beat in response to something as dumb as you calling him by his first name for the first time was everything but calm and collected. Still, as much as he tried to keep even an ounce of what he was really feeling from showing on his features, it only took that little halt in his step for you to realize what you just said.

“Oh, shit- I’m sorry. That’s probably kind of weird for me to call you.”

“It’s fine.” He repeated the same words he had said only a few minutes ago, only this time he didn’t sound nearly as confident. Whatever was going on in his chest was not, in fact, fine, but what was he supposed to say? ‘You treating me like I’m a close friend seriously fucks with my doubts of having a thing for you’? For heaven’s sake he could take out a literal murderous demon in the blink of an eye but god forbid he try to keep his normally cool composure in front of who he now had to admit was his crush.

“If it really isn’t fine you don’t have to act like it is.” You laughed out awkwardly, still having trouble trying to read his features. 

He hated seeing that bit of doubt and worry in your eyes, enough so that he shoved what he was feeling down even if it was just long enough for him to give some reassurance that you referring to him so casually was actually more than just ‘fine’.

“I’m not ‘acting’. If it really bothered me I would say something about it. Trust me, I’ve gotten good at telling people off...” He grumbled, his mood slightly souring at the mere thought of what Gojō would do if he could see him now, with color tinting his cheeks and his brain scrambling for the right words to say which, judging by the short laugh you gave that was simply music to his ears, he had successfully done.

“True, true. Guess I’ll just have to stay on your good side then, yeah? Dunno if I could take it if you were actually mad at me.”

He scoffed and muttered in response as he trudged ahead of you.

“As if you would ever be on my bad side…”

“Hm?”

“I said ‘can we hurry up before it gets worse outside’. If we take much longer Gojō is going to start blowing up my phone.” 

You laughed and then smiled in a way that you could only imagine looked incredibly goofy as you stared at his back while he continued walking ahead of you, maybe just a tiny bit giddy that he was ok with you being a little more personal and less formal with him. Surely that meant the two of you were friends, right? Or maybe he could think of you as something more some day…

“Are you coming with?”

“Yeah, yeah!” You exclaimed, shaking your head and leaving those thoughts for another time in order to allow yourself to enjoy this moment as it was, warmed in the face of the winter chill by a cozy set of winter clothes and a fuzzy feeling in your heart.

[yutahoes]

Sakura

(Part Seven)

One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six - Seven

genre : Chaptered, Fluff, 

pairing : childhood friends: soccer player! Nakamoto Yuta x single mom! Y/N

word count : 3.3k words

You’ll always be his Sakura.

@ailoveyuta @loona-4-eva @aiforyuu @2-3-t-i @cosmiclatte28 @url-lindo-sexy @nuoyipeach​ @aaasteroidsky​ @thisis-myname @yutazen01​​​

Her smile that time in Osaka is still imprinted in Yuta’s mind that it haunts him even in his dreams. It was winter in their last year of their teens when Yuta begged Y/N’s mom if she could spend the holidays in Osaka with his family. Of course, his parents were also behind this and promised that they’ll take care of Y/N. And even if he’s just remembering it now, he still can’t believe that her mom actually allowed her to go to another country. 

His parents quickly greeted her when she came to the airport, asking if she had trouble during the flight but she smiled at them answering them in fluent Japanese that made him proud. She seemed so natural talking to them, even calling them okaasan and otousan like they’re one family. “Yuta!” she called excitedly, arms wide open to hug him which he accepted. His parents were just smiling at him knowingly. “Bogoshipda.” 

Who wouldn’t? The last time he saw her was the day she left for Chicago. No, the day before that. Although he and his mom sent them off, he refused to look at her that time. "I missed you too." He whispered that made her smile widely. Something changed about her. Is it because they never saw each other for years? Or because his memory of her is stuck in the last time they were together? Is it because they already grew up? Maybe it's because of Chicago.

His family had been welcoming to her and they were equally amazed that Y/N can understand and speak Japanese. Since it's just days before New Year, their house is full of people but they made her feel like she is a part of the family. "You should bring her to Osaka Castle." One of his aunts claimed that made Yuta nod. 

"Why not bring her to Universal Studios?" Another asked and Y/N just nodded, looking excited. Yuta put his phone on top of the table. "Otousan, can you drive us to Hirakata Park tomorrow?" He asked which made everyone look at him.

Y/N was so surprised seeing a Cardcaptor Sakura exhibition that she squealed in excitement at the entrance making Yuta smile. This feels like the Y/N he knows. They kept on looking at the different artworks related to the anime she liked since she was young, even staying too long at some merchandise. "Should I buy that? Sakura is really cute." 

Yuta chuckled. "You can't even eat that." That made her glare at him, pouting. But Yuta remembered that merchandise, even telling himself that he’ll save up to buy that for her birthday. 

She was really happy to eat in a café that is inspired by the same anime. She kept on taking pictures saying that she'll show them to her mom. "I knew you'll love it here." 

"Can I just live here?" 

He laughed once again. "You can ask my parents to adopt you." 

Y/N wrapped her arms on Yuta's arm that made him freeze. What's with the sudden skinship? "Shall I call you oniichan?" 

He smiled at her then frowned. "No." 

It was almost nighttime when they reached Dohtonbori. Tons of pictures were taken and she kept on running around, claiming that everything in Japan is pretty. "It's prettier when there are cherry blossoms. You should go back in spring." But honestly, he just wanted her to stay here until Spring. Or maybe for a long time. 

Should he ask his parents to adopt her? But he doesn't want him to call her imouto. 

The lights illuminating the whole area looked magical. Why does he like it more today than when he's out here with his parents? Why does the light look more lovely today? The cold breeze made him pull his oversized coat closer. Why is it so cold? Glancing at her, he realized that she may be cold as well. Does Chicago have a cold season like this? 

Knowing that she's focused on looking at those little trinkets by the store, he went to another store to buy something. Her mom will kill him if she gets sick in this weather. Besides, it's going to be busier this time of the year. "Y/N." He called that made her look at him. He put on a white scarf around her neck, wrapping it nicely on her. "My Christmas gift." 

She had to laugh at that, raising a snow globe. "And I was thinking of buying one for you." She turned her attention to the different snow globes on the shelf. "You should pick one, Yuta." 

But he never looked at the snow globes. Instead, his focus was on her. The lights illuminate her, creating a picturesque background. The white snow falling gently on her, adding to the effect. He badly wanted to imprint that image in his mind. When did she become this pretty? When she turned to him, he lightly gasped. Why did he feel hot all of a sudden? Why can he hear his heart beating on his chest? 

Y/N shook the snow globe with the Osaka castle inside then handed it to him. "I'll get you this, onii chan." It annoyed him. Why does she like using that word? 

The whole week was full of preparations for the New Year and his relatives had supplied her with the rituals they must do. She helped in making mochi with his grandmother who seemed so fond of her. Even his grandfather, who is usually a scary man, smiles a lot because of her. She really fit well in his family. But not as his sister. 

When the clock struck midnight, he realized what it was. She was playing some sparklers with his cousins, laughing along with them. Her eyes twinkling the same way they did when she was staring at those snow globes. Taeyong was right all along. He is in love with her. 

Kareshi. It's a better term than oniisan. Something that he wanted her to call him right now. "Y/N, I…" But a ringtone stopped his words, someone was calling. "It must be your mom, you should pick up." The girl nodded, handing her sparkler to Yuta before heading inside the house. 

God, what is wrong with him? Is he really going to confess to her? He must be out of his mind. Yuta just finished the stick of sparkler before heading inside to check on her. She was seated on the couch, smiling on her phone. "They are all so nice to me, eomma." She then smiled when she noticed Yuta. "We're going to the temple tomorrow with obaasan." Hatsumonde. It's a Japanese ritual that they had done since he was young and since she's here, his grandmother wanted her to experience visiting a shrine. "You want to talk to Yuta?" 

The guy just shook his head, sitting next to her, but she pushed the phone to her which he reluctantly answered. "Eommeoni, annyeong." She sounded so happy talking to him on the phone but again his focus was on the door next to him who was playing the kendama, a Japanese ball and cup toy. "Please take care of Y/N." And even if she doesn't say those words, he knows he'll take care of her. 

When she dropped the call, Yuta saw her phone wallpaper. A guy playing basketball. It looks like a photo taken. Is she dating someone? Did she mention anything about a guy in her letters? Is that why she's prettier? Is she in love?

The question was answered when they visited the shrine the next day. She is indeed prettier especially when she wore a kimono that his cousin let her borrow, little trinkets adored her hair. She looked like a native Japanese. A yome. But he shook his head. He can't be thinking of that. 

They were getting their omikuji, him and her with another set of female and male cousins that are older than the two of them. When Y/N pulled her paper strip, his female cousin shook her head. "You'll probably get pregnant this year." She claimed that startled her. "Are you dating someone?" Y/N nodded. 

"You two are already dating?" His male cousin asked, referring to her and Yuta. She shook her head saying that he's a schoolmate from Chicago. So he's really seeing the guy on her phone wallpaper. When Yuta opened his paper strip, his cousin just tapped his back. "You should have confessed earlier." But he just stared at the bad luck written on his paper. 

His second regret. Why did it take a long time for him to realize these feelings? 

It was Yuta's Summer Break when his parents gave him the airplane tickets to Chicago that surprised him. They had talked to Y/N and her mom that he's visiting. And although he doesn't want to go there, he was forced by his family. "You should at least tell her that you like her. Maybe it can change something." 

The city was different and he felt really foreign, different than when he first came to Korea. "Yuta!" Y/N called, running to where he is and quickly hugging him. What is this girl doing? In front of all these people? "I skipped class to pick you up. Why can't you hug me?" He raised an eyebrow at her. Why is she so bold? Chicago is indeed different. Yeokshi Chicago. 

He jokingly crushed her on his arms but she didn't laugh, which is odd. He felt her breathing on his neck, hot and hard. "I missed you, Yuta." It felt different. Maybe because they're in Chicago. He didn't pay that much attention to that especially when she introduced a guy named Johnny Seo. The person on her wallpaper. The guy she's dating. 

Johnny is a really nice guy. He showed him what Chicago is while waiting for her to finish her classes. He made an effort to talk to him in Korean or English, sometimes in Japanese that he heard from her. He shared stories about her, the Y/N Yuta doesn't personally know. He knew what to order for her in coffee shops, even at restaurants. He speaks to her calmly, staring at her as if she's the only person who mattered in the world. And he knew, she's in the right place with Johnny. 

It was Saturday when Johnny and Y/N brought him to The Bean. The weather was hot and there were a lot of people because of the weekend but Yuta didn't care. "You haven't been to Chicago if you didn’t visit this place." Johnny claimed that made the girl nod. They took tons of pictures, Y/N teasing that he needed to show it to his cousins. 

Johnny offered to get them coffee, leaving the two of them in the park while still taking pictures. "Johnny is pretty nice." Yuta started that made her smile, nodding at him. "You never mentioned him in your letters." 

"I don't know what to tell you." She answered quietly. "But I like him. So much." He wanted to stop her that moment, wanted her to not continue what she's saying or it will just hurt him. "He helped me a lot to quickly adapt here." 

A bitter smile escaped his lips. The same way she helped him back in Korea. How dare she fall in love with another guy that way? But when Johnny came with their coffees at hand, he saw the twinkle in her eyes. The twinkle that made his heart flutter. She really does love Johnny. And who is he to take that twinkle away? Who is he to tell her what she can and can't do? He's just her friend. A very dear friend. 

He drank his coffee watching as how the taller guy fixed her hair, smiling at her with a lot of love in his eyes. Bittersweet. That was what it was. It's hurtful yet romantic. And he can't believe that he will always remember Chicago with those feelings. Yeoksi Chicago. 

Johnny loves Y/N. He's sure of that. And he honestly doesn't want to believe that it didn't work well with them. What really happened? Did she give up? Or is he the one who gave up? That was the question in his mind seeing Johnny in front of the two kids' school. He can still remember him but does Johnny even remember him? 

Yuta can see the two kids going outside the gates and honestly, he was scared that they'll run to their dad. He shouldn't have come here today. Why did he even come here? "Daddy!" He heard Jae call running to his dad. Of course, he must have missed him so much that the younger guy even called him 'appa' last time. But he noticed Cherry stopping on her tracks. 

She noticed him but he only smiled at her, planning to just go. He was about to enter his car when he heard the younger girl say, "Can I hang out with Yuta samchon?" That was when Johnny noticed him, Jae even waved at him excitedly. "He promised me that we'll go back to the library when he gets back from Spain." He did promise her. But her dad is here. Isn't she excited to see him again? 

"Is it alright if Cherry goes with you?" Yuta nodded. He wanted to hang out with them anyways. "I'll just tell Y/N." Cherry just walked chicly to him, her eyes as dark as when he first met her. Why is she like this? Does she not like Johnny? Jae told Yuta that he wanted to hang out with his dad, even telling him to take care of his noona that he found so adorable. 

Yuta bid farewell to the father-son, opening the backseat door for the younger girl. Cherry was just looking at her shoes when Yuta entered the car, starting the engine to drive her to the library she loved. "Samchon…" she called which made him look at her from the mirror of the car, humming as a response. "Can you buy me a cake today?" 

It was a request he can't say no. This was the first time that Cherry asked him for something and he's somehow glad that it is just a simple thing. He parked in front of a pretty café, helping her get down from the car, and even opened the door for her. "You can order whatever you want." He urged, eyeing all the selections of different flavored cakes. 

The girl pointed at a white cake with red cherries on top, making Yuta smile. A cherry cake. "Can you buy me the whole cake?" The guy just nodded. It's not bad to spoil her once in a while. He told the girl on the counter their order, handing him his card when she made another request, "Do you have candles?" Candles? Is it her birthday? Is that why Johnny is here in Korea? 

He let the younger girl put candles in between the cherries of her cake. "Is it your birthday today?" He asked and she nodded casually that startled him. Why are they together? She should be with her parents. "Don't you want to share the cake with your brother?" 

Cherry shook her head. "I always share everything with him. He and eomma never liked cherries anyways." He pursed his lips at that, she does hate cherries. Ironically, she named her firstborn with something that she didn't like. "And dad hates cherry." She was staring at the cake while saying those words in a hushed tone. Is she referring to the fruit or another thing? "Can you light it up, samchon?" Her eyes were moist, sparkling against the light, like she wanted to cry. 

He held the top of her head, smiling. "Wait up. I'll just go get something." He said then stood up. "Stay here and wait for me. I won't be long." But she only stared at him in worry. Yuta handed her his phone, promising that he'll be back quickly. He crossed the street to get her some flowers then cursed himself for not knowing what color she wanted. Does she even like flowers? 

To be safe, he followed the florist's advice in getting a white rose for 'his daughter'. There was a new expression on Cherry's face when he handed her the single white flower, an emotion he hasn't seen from her before. "Girls should receive at least a flower on their birthday." He reasoned out then lit up all the candles on the cake. She whispered something on herself as a wish before blowing the candles one at a time. 

Yuta took away the candles then started slicing the cake. He placed one slice on Cherry's plate, even topping it with cherries on top. It was the younger girl who gave him his slice of the vanilla cake. "Do you want to do anything else? Ice skating?" 

"Can we just go ice skating with eomma and Jae some time?" He nodded. She always thinks about them. "I'll just finish the book in the library today." 

It is her birthday yet she's silently reading a suspense book while seated on a bean couch. Yuta just bought her some snacks and got a book to read so he wouldn't get bored. He would smile at her little gasps and remembered how Y/N would be like that while reading manga. Cherry is indeed a splitting image of her. It's crazy. 

"Samchon," Cherry called, closing the hardbound book she was reading earlier. Is she done? That fast? "When you were young, what do you want to be when you grow up?" 

He chuckled at that question. She is still a kid. "I want to be a soccer player." 

"How about mom?" 

Yuta glanced at her. "She wanted to be an illustrator." He remembered how good her drawings are and even pursue that passion until her college years. "But you know, your mom suddenly wrote to me one day and said that she wanted to be a mom." 

"Can dreams change?" Cherry asked innocently. There's a certain air of maturity in the little girl that Yuta always forgets that she's just a kid. Now, she looks like a little girl who wonders about life. 

Yuta nodded at the question. "What do you want to be when you grow up, Cherry?" 

"A detective." That's a nice dream. Maybe that's why she likes reading all these Agatha Christie books. "When I become a detective, I will help children find their dads." That sparked his curiosity. What? "I wanted to find my dad." 

"Johnny is your dad." 

"He's not." She exclaimed which made Yuta wide-eyed. "Eomma got pregnant with me even before she married dad. She had Jae because she wanted to save her and dad's marriage." That was some wild accusations from a child. 

Yet, it seemed rather logical. 

It was a mystery to him why Johnny and Y/N broke up when he saw how much they liked each other. They had two children, isn't that enough reason to stay together? He remembered all the conversations with Cherry about her dad, how sad her reaction is, and how quiet her voice is when talking about him. The image of the younger girl who looked awkward seeing her dad flashed on his mind. She's wary of him. Not scared, not angry. She just doesn't look like someone who knew what she should do with her dad. She looked like she doesn't belong. 

But then again, maybe it's just her. 

Maybe he can help her. He can probably prove that Johnny is her dad. "Cherry, how old are you?" 

"Eight." 

'Seven years, turning eight' He can hear Y/N's voice in his mind saying those words. The same age as Cherry. The last time they saw each other was eight years. In Chicago. After that night. 

"Samchon, do you know who my real dad is?" 

Yuta gulped. He probably knows. 

Fuck, he might just be Cherry's dad. 

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Eight

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Pacemaker

F/M Pairing: Y/N x Bang Chan (SKZ)

Warnings: Let me be clear: this is a very dark narrative. I have lots of warnings for my readers, including explicit smut, vulgar language, toxic relationships, voyeurism, choking, sadism, smoking, and drinking.

Word Count: 8.2K

Genre: Sugar Daddy AU; Established Relationship

Summary: Y/N had made a lot of bad decisions throughout her life, but signing up for that stupid Sugar Daddy website? The worst of them all.

A/N: The title makes more sense in the end, but I can tell you that pacemaker’s are used to control arrhythmia's - and Seungmin might just function that way for the reader! Also, I’m really sorry for making Chan such an asshole.

Seungmin was a good best friend, even if he was determined to ruin his lungs with expensive cancer sticks. 

I had once tried to help him break the bad habit - stealing the cigarette boxes that he bought from the store and tossing them into the trash. But Seungmin made it rather difficult to break his addiction, and when I found him digging through the trash one evening, trembling fingers bringing the lighter up to his lips, I stopped trying to help him. And it might seem like a shitty thing for a best friend to abandon, but I was really tired of seeing my efforts die in vain when Seungmin made it loud and clear that he wasn’t willing to relent.

However, I was probably the worst person in the world to preach against his vices, especially when mine were far more consequential. Ironically, if I was to compare our biggest slights, then I might find a lot of similarities between our horrible habits. For instance, we were both prisoners to something toxic, and it was hard to push out those dark shadows when they had already snuffed out most of the light.

But at least Seungmin still had some control over his autonomy whereas I had allowed a single man to dictate every aspect of my existence. He decided the clothes that I would wear to his fancy office, and the things that I was allowed to do to my own person. He enacted so many rules that I could barely keep up with them, and he frequently reminded me that I was supposed to comply with whatever he demanded because I signed a foolish contract.

In the end, it was my fault for becoming so involved, but I could always rely on Seungmin for companionship when I felt another bout of existential dread. Because Seungmin was a good listener, and he made an effort to understand my problems even when he didn’t agree with my decisions. It was one of the things that I liked most about him, and I watched him with indifferent eyes as he stomped out his cigarette against the sidewalk.

Thereafter, his breath vaporized against the frigid air, and it was the only reminder that it was cold because my body had already grown numb to the sensation. “What happened this time?” Seungmin asked, raising a brow in question.

It was a deceivingly simple question because there was no straightforward answer that I could offer him in response. Instead, I shrugged while trying to collect my thoughts. Because I still wasn’t really sure how I felt about my latest rendezvous with him, but I knew for certain that it had affected me more than the other times.

“It was different,” I replied, and Seungmin nodded.

“Did he hurt you?” Seungmin asked.

“Yes, but not the kind of hurt that you’re thinking about,” I said. 

“Well, that’s still fucked up,” Seungmin said. “Tell me everything.”

Oh, but there was so much to tell him, and my mind instantly brought me back to the very beginning when I signed my name on a contract that promised so much only to deliver nothing but pain.

Six Months Ago

The worst decision of my life was predicated on my desperation for cash, and I was almost at the point where I would do anything to see another zero on my bank statement.

When I first moved to California, I had a lot of big dreams, and I was so excited to secure a scholarship to a highly-accredited University. It seemed that the world was finally on my side, and I left my home on the east coast to start a new life with more opportunities. Everything was going according to plan, and there was nothing preventing my success.

Except for me, of course. 

And it happened during the events of a single evening when I decided to attend a fraternity party on campus that my roommate recommended. The music was loud, the alcohol was unlimited, and any prior inhibitions had been thrown out the window much to my own detriment. I forgot all about my responsibilities, and I made one careless decision after another until I ended up in bed with a stranger.

I don’t even remember his name, but he was just one of the students who got busted by the police that night. Apparently, someone next door ratted us out, and they discovered a bunch of under-age students drinking alcohol without any supervision, including myself. But when the University found out, my scholarship was taken away, and my parents refused to send me extra money for tuition because they were determined to bring me back home.

But I wasn’t about to let one night ruin everything, and it was my roommate’s idea to suggest the stupid website. “It’s like a Sugar Daddy thing,” my roommate giggled. “All you have to do is sign-up, and then they’ll email you if there’s any interest.”

“Interest?”

“Well, they’ll probably want something from you in exchange for money.”

“How much money?”

“I guess that’s up to you to decide.”

Tragically, I was too desperate to consider the consequences, and I signed up without even thinking about the potential for disaster. And within a week, I got several emails from old misers offering me loads of cash in exchange for services that ranged from a private escort request to more explicit favors. But none of them stood out to me, especially in comparison to the young CEO who claimed to only be 28-years-old, but I could hardly believe his profile.

Still, I decided to entertain him, and I organized a meeting at a neutral location just in case anything funny happened. But I was still shocked to see the same man from the pictures waiting for me inside the coffee shop. And he was just as handsome as he appeared online: long, curly blonde hair, deep brown eyes, and a broad smile that took my breath away.

“Y/N?” he asked when I cautiously approached the table.

“Mr. Bang Chan?” I returned, and he laughed while rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to reveal strong, muscular arms.

“That’s me,” he said. “You can sit down if you want.”

“Of course,” I said, feeling rather foolish after standing there for so long. “I’m sorry, but I was really surprised because I honestly thought you might by lying about your age.”

“Why would you think that?” he asked, and I easily detected an accent carrying his words.

“Uh, considering the circumstances,” I said with a wince. “I feel like you could have any woman you want.”

“Oh?” Chan asked while raising one brow suggestively. “Maybe I just want you.”

“R-really?” I stuttered while wondering if I had made a good decision when I wore a skirt that afternoon. “You can probably tell that I’ve never done this before.”

“That’s alright,” Chan reassured me. “I don’t have much experience either.”

It seemed too good to be true - like there wasn’t any logical explanation for why this incredibly sexy businessman had signed up for some Sugar Daddy website when all he had to do was blink in my direction and I was already falling for him hard. “So, I guess you expect something from me.”

“I like how you do business,” Chan remarked. “We can skip all the formalities, then?”

“If you want,” I said, still feeling a bit sheepish as I glanced down at the table.

“From you, Y/N,” Chan continued. “I want a partner.”

“In what sense?” I asked. “Are you talking about something...sexual?”

“I’d really like that,” Chan said with a seductive smile. “But only if you’re interested.”

“Definitely,” I quickly agreed, throwing all caution to the wind as I surrendered to his ridiculous charisma.

“In return, you can have whatever you want,” Chan said. “Money isn’t an issue for me.”

“I really just need money for my tuition.”

“Is that all?” Chan scoffed as if he was in disbelief. “There’s got to be something else.”

I hesitated for a moment, wondering why it was so hard to ask him for those extravagances when the entire premise of our meeting rested on the basis of one exchange for another. “My apartment,” I said. “I plan to get a job in the future, but I’m struggling with rent.”

“Fuck the job,” Chan said. “I don’t mind paying your rent.” He smirked as he leaned back against the booth with a sigh. “I used to be a college student, Y/N, and I had problems paying for those things too.”

His attitude was nothing but nonchalant, and our terms were settled without a single complaint. Eventually, the deal was finalized when I met him later that evening at his lavish penthouse apartment, signing my name at the bottom of an exclusive contract that I hadn’t even taken the time to read. 

“It’s done,” Chan declared, and I watched his forearms bulge as he applied pressure to the official stamp. “We can have some fun together,” he added, and the look he gave me was nothing short of predatory. “Tell me, Y/N. Are you a virgin?”

“No, sir,” I said, watching him throw the contract aside onto the coffee table. 

“Good,” he purred while slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “Do you take birth control? I hate fucking with condoms.”

“Yes,” I whispered, and there wasn’t an ounce of shame in my entire being when I studied the hard planes of his upper torso once his chest was exposed to the room. 

Did I really just a sign a deal with a real-life Adonis?

“I’m gonna have a taste of that sweet cunt tonight,” Chan said, and one hand palmed himself over the front of his pants. “Bend over the couch for me, and keep your legs spread.”

“O-okay,” I agreed, hesitating because I wasn’t expecting him to move so fast, but I also knew that it was a foolish thought. What else should I have anticipated? There’s only one thing he wanted from me, and it’s not like it proceeded a romantic dinner or a long walk on the beach.

But it was still jarring to feel someone else’s hands on my hips - someone older and far more experienced. And his hands were proof of that confidence, perfectly assured in their motions as they drug my panties down my legs, fingers prodding against the folds of my labia. “You’re not wet enough,” Chan remarked, and I blushed because I was afraid that I had been doing something wrong. “We’ll just use lube.”

I flinched when I heard a loud POP! echo throughout the room when he opened a bottle from behind me. Then, I startled when something cold penetrated between my thighs because I wasn’t used to the overbearing sensation, and the flex of his fingers were incredibly thorough as they explored the private walls stretched around his intrusion. It felt nice, though, feeling him moving around, brushing against sensitive zones that had me moaning against the cushions.

“What a good slut,” Chan said, and I found myself whimpering at the derogatory term. “Let me use my cock instead.”

I gasped when his fingers disappeared in the middle of my approaching orgasm, leaving me clenching desperately for something to fill up the places that had left empty. But the sound of Chan shuffling out of his pants was reassuring, and he was nothing but teasing when he slid the head of his cock up and down my entrance. Spreading his pre-cum while prodding against me with the tip of his erection. 

If I hadn’t been wet before, then I was positively drenching from the surprisingly playful foreplay. “Please,” I whined, and he must’ve been feeling merciful since it was our first meeting because he pushed himself the rest of the way inside between my walls with a grunt. Satisfying that persistent ache which demanded some sort of satisfaction from the fat cock splitting me with every aggressive plunge against my g-spot.

“There we go,” Chan hissed, and his fingernails dug into my skin while he rolled my hips back onto his cock - repeating the motion with a sensual rhythm that was slow but fulfilling. Deep and full. Pounding into my hips with every thrust and chanting obscenities into the air while the smell of sex hit me with as much force as his thighs knocking against mine. “Feels so good around me.”

I moaned at his husky tone, and slid further down the armrest of the couch because my clit was rubbing deliciously against the furniture that he had bent me over, and I focused on the addicting friction and the impression of his cock drilling inside my pussy until I came with a loud moan. 

“Shit,” Chan cursed when I clenched even tighter around him, and the pleasure was like a dramatic rise - a climactic high - and I fell back into the moment with my heart pounding against my chest while Chan continued to plummet his cock into the stimulated entrance of my cunt before I felt his cum trickle down the inside of my legs. 

“Good girl,” Chan said, and he landed a sharp slap to my ass before he was walking out of the room, stuffing his cock back into his pants while I looked down at my hands and wondered what I was supposed to do next.

And several long minutes passed before I realized that Chan wasn’t coming back, and I tried to ignore the sensation of his cum drying on my skin as I pulled my skirt back on over my sore hips. 

Is this how it would be every time? 

I grimaced at the thought, but I knew it was still a better alternative than returning home to my disappointed parents. Because Chan would at least help me stay in school, and he wasn’t really asking for that much in return. 

Right?

But my heart was aching when I left his penthouse around midnight, returning to the shared apartment with my roommate and slinking into the shower while doing my best to remain quiet. Unfortunately, my thoughts were starting to become more rampant - louder than the prevailing silence - and I couldn’t stop thinking about the encounter with Chan. Because it was the second time that a random stranger had fucked me without consideration, and I would never forget how I felt in that moment, scalding my skin under hot water while scrubbing insistently with my fingernails scratching across my arms.

And I went to sleep that night thinking about the future for the first time since I lost my scholarship. For instance, how long would I have to keep doing this? Can it really end after my graduation?

Needless to say, I was unable to reacquaint myself with the familiar comforts of sleep, and I woke-up the next morning feeling like a much weaker version of myself. It was both a literal and metaphorical description for my current state of mind and physical being, and I forced myself to endure my regular routine so that I could leave for class on time.

But even as I was starting to feel better again, savoring the cool air of the morning as I walked through campus, everything was ruined when I received an unanticipated phone call from Chan around lunchtime:

“Can you come into my office today?” Chan asked, and I checked my watch.

“I can be there in twenty minutes.”

“Perfect,” Chan said, and I hung up the phone before jogging to the bus stop.

The Voyeur

Chan’s office building was extravagant, and I had trouble finding his company because it seemed like there was no end to the numerous corridors. Thankfully, a polite worker was willing to steer me in the right direction, and I greeted Chan’s secretary with a nervous exhale of my name.

“He’s waiting for you inside,” she said with a bright smile. “But make sure to lock the door behind you.”

“Oh, sure,” I said, puzzled by the strange request, but I entered the room with a dismissive shrug, glancing back to turn the lock before stumbling in my steps when I realized that someone who was not Chan stood in the middle of the room.

He was a younger associate, and his hair was slicked back with some kind of product as he observed me with the faintest hint of a smirk. “You must be Chan’s newest plaything.”

I gasped at the stranger’s words. “Chan-” I attempted to call for him, but cold fingers wrapped themselves around my throat in warning.

“Shhh,” Chan whispered into my ear, and I trembled when one of his hands went down to the waistband of my skirt. “You’re right on time, Y/N.”

“Sir,” I said, trembling when he found my clit through the fabric, applying rough circles with a growl.

“Go sit on top of the desk for me,” Chan said. “Take off your skit and panties.”

“But there’s someone else-”

“Did you not hear me?” Chan interrupted, and there was an intimidating warning in his eyes that I found myself unable to ignore.

“Yes, sir,” I said in compliance, and I tried not to think about the situation unfolding in front of me. Instead, I carefully walked around the unfamiliar man without making eye contact, even though his gaze was focused on me the entire time. “Is this what you wanted me to see?” the newcomer asked, and I startled at the sound of his voice as I slipped out of my clothes.

“I think she’s your type,” Chan said, and he nonchalantly strolled through the room with his hands tucked into his pockets. “This is what you like, Jisung? Sit back and relax.”

Jisung pursed his lips as he found a comfortable position on one of the futons, and I gasped when I realized that he had unzipped his pants, fishing out his cock while casually stroking the full length of his erection, gaze fixed on the place where Chan was standing in front of me.

“Bend over, whore,” Chan growled, and I turned around in an instant, shivering when he forced my legs to spread even further apart, applying pressure to my lower back as I arched even higher for him. “Have you ever seen a prettier cunt?”

“Finger her for me,” Jisung requested, and I closed my eyes when Chan penetrated three fingers inside at once. Because it was a distant shout from his treatment the previous night, and I found myself enduring the pain from being aggressively handled. 

“Is this to your satisfaction?” Chan asked, and he was moving lightning fast, thrusting his fingers so fast that my body wasn’t sure how to process the rapidly growing pressure building with every curl of his wrist.

“Fuck her then,” Jisung said, and I could hear the slick sound of his hand moving on his cock to match the pace of Chan’s motions inside of me.

“No problem,” Chan said, and his cock replaced his fingers with one harsh plunge, forcing my hips to collide with the side of his desk as he started an unrelenting pace, hands holding tight to my waist as he treated me as nothing more than his personal cock-sleeve.

My pleasure wasn’t a concern, and I could tell because he never once asked me if I was feeling good. Instead, he panted like a dog into my ears, groping along my chest while rolling his hips up into mine - grinding his cock as deep as he could manage. 

“Chan...” I trailed off at one point because there would surely be bruises once he was done with me.

“Is there a problem, Y/N?” he asked, and I quickly shook my head even as he started thrusting even harder, forcing his cock even deeper inside my gaping core - brushing against previously untouched places that awakened something almost feral.

“No, sir,” I managed, choking around a moan when his fingers tightened around my throat again.

“He likes to watch,” Chan whispered, slowing down to a sensual grind while he spoke to me. “It gets him off every time.”

“I didn’t know,” I said in return, even though no response was really warranted.

Especially when Chan leaned back once again, picking up from where he had left off from before, and there was a stuttered hiccup to the way he moved - like he was nearing his own breaking point. His fingers curled themselves into my hair, forcing my head to the side to meet Jisung’s unwavering gaze.

“Jisung,” Chan said, and the voyeur himself looked up at the two of us with lust reflecting in his eyes. “Is it everything you wanted?”

“Keep going,” Jisung simply said in return, and Chan was laughing in the moments preceding his orgasm, spilling his seed between my convulsing walls before pulling out with a groan.

“You did good, Y/N,” Chan said, and he reached down for my discarded skirt.

Meanwhile, I glanced around Chan to see Jisung reaching for the tissue box on the table. “Thank you for the show, Mr. Bang.” Jisung said, and he cleaned off his cock before tucking himself back into his jeans.

The Sadist

That unexpected situation should’ve been the first and only sign required for me to break off the engagement with Bang Chan, but I was starting to grow addicted to the ostentatious gifts that he sent me.

Because on that same afternoon, I returned to my apartment to find a brand new SUV waiting for me outside my complex. It was the newest model, and my roommate was hysterical with excitement as she jumped around the front lawn and told me all about how a random man had brought the car to our apartment asking for me. 

“I don’t know who you’re seeing,” my roommate remarked. “But if he keeps doing this kind of thing...”

“Yeah,” I agreed with a faint smile, and there was still an active part of me that thought I could put up with Chan if it meant receiving things like this in return.

Plus, I somehow deluded myself into thinking that everything was fine, and I guess my lectures on argumentative writing must’ve worked too well because I convinced my stubborn brain to endure the arrangement for a little while longer. 

It also helped that Chan hadn’t spoken to me much in the week following our little date in his office, and I was able to forget about the encounter with Jisung. Plus, my tuition was paid, my bank account was full, and there were always expensive things allowing me to take advantage of a lavish lifestyle.

It was hard to argue against the current trajectory of my situation, but there was still a painful reminder of its price when Chan eventually called me the following Friday with another request:

“I’m having a guest over tonight,” Chan said. “And you’re the entertainment.”

I swallowed hard at his brusque tone. “Entertainment?”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” Chan reassured me, and I could only process his words while the dial tone played in the background.

But maybe I could handle the addition of a guest, especially if it was just Jisung or someone watching again. That hadn’t been so bad, and the worst part was the initial shock of seeing another man in the same room. 

Maybe I was just overreacting, and this would be a regular night where Chan would fuck me in his bed and I would limp home and sleep on the brand new satin comforter he had bought for me.

Unfortunately, my initial enthusiasm was dulled when I knocked on the door to Chan’s penthouse, and he answered my summons with another man lingering in the background. But the other man wasn’t Jisung, and a single chill rolled down my spine when Chan’s guest turned around to look at me for the very first time. “You’re early,” Chan said with a pleasant smile. “We were just pouring ourselves some drinks.”

“That sounds nice,” I said, allowing Chan to take my coat before he led me into the living room.

“This is my associate, Lee Minho,” Chan said, nodding in the direction of the freshly identified man who was unreasonably handsome as he sat down across the room.

“The pleasure is mine,” Minho said with a smirk, and I had no words to match his arrogance, but Chan pulled me into his lap and I took some strange comfort from his embrace.

“Minho and I have been friends for years.”

“What a tragedy,” Minho remarked, and the simple jest was met with a chuckle from Chan who wrapped an arm around my waist.

“He was really excited to meet you as well.”

“Especially after listening to Jisung run his mouth,” Minho said, and I froze at the mention of the other man because that was the moment when everything started to plummet, and I could see the change in Minho’s gaze as he lowered his eyes to my chest.

“Can I see her tits?” Minho asked, holding his glass of scotch in one hand while the other disappeared down the front of his pants.

“Of course,” Chan said, and he didn’t seem to care at all about his friend’s vulgar request, pulling me back against his chest as his fingers worked apart the buttons on my blouse. “She doesn’t mind. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

I shook my head, paralyzed by Minho’s impenetrable gaze as he inhaled sharply when Chan removed the shirt from my arms. “Those are nice.”

“Aren’t they?” Chan agreed, and his fingers tweaked my nipples. But I shivered at the pressure, nearly jumping in his lap from the sudden stimulation as his thumbs rolled across the hardening buds.

“You ever fucked them before?” Minho asked, parting his lips around the rim of his glass.

“No,” Chan said, and his tone reflected his disappointment. “I guess I’ll have to try that in the future.”

“They’re a good size,” Minho remarked, and I couldn’t help but feel humiliated because they were talking about me in such a vulgar manner - like I was just a piece of meat on display for them.

“I like her tits,” Chan agreed. “But I think her ass is my favorite.”

Minho scoffed at that. “Isn’t that always your preference?”

“Why do you think I like fucking her from behind?” Chan laughed, and Minho smiled before draining the rest of his alcohol.

“Where did you get her?” Minho asked, and I watched as he removed his expensive suit jacket.

“Do you remember that website Jisung showed me?” Chan smirked. “It’s probably the best idea that he’s ever had.”

“Mhmm,” Minho agreed, and his lecherous eyes continued to openly stare at my breasts. “Has Changbin seen her yet?”

“No,” Chan said, and then he sighed. “I’m afraid to introduce them.”

“She’s exactly his type,” Minho remarked. “He’ll want to fuck her for sure, and I doubt you’ll tell him no.”

“He’s convincing,” Chan said, and he smirked while his lips pressed wet kisses against my neck and his hands massaged my breasts. “What would you want to do with her?”

“Me?” Minho chuckled, and his dark eyes were appraising. “I’d probably fuck her mouth, and then maybe cum on her tits.”

“That sounds reasonable,” Chan said, and then he was shoving against me from behind. “Get on your knees,” Chan growled into my ear, and I shivered at the guttural sound before falling from his lap and into the floor.

Meanwhile, Minho continued to watch me while stroking his cock, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip. “Is this an invitation?”

“Take her mouth,” Chan said, and he reached out for his discarded glass of brandy. “I don’t think she’ll mind.”

Minho smirked in response, and he pulled the occupied hand from his pants long enough to stand up from the couch, taking another step forward until his crotch was level with my face. “Is that true, little girl?” Minho asked, and I held my tongue when his fingers traced across my lips. “Do you want to suck my cock?”

I could feel Chan’s eyes on me, and I knew better than to disobey. “Yes,” I whispered, and Minho closed his eyes around a groan.

“Channie picked a good little cocksucker,” he said, and he quickly undid his pants, pulling them down his thighs along with his boxers. I inhaled when his cock was freed from the confines of his underwear, slapping against his stomach with a bead of pre-cum waiting on the tip. “Go ahead,” Minho said. “Let’s see what you can do for me.”

I swallowed hard, and I decided to start with a few strokes of his hardening erection - feeling the length of him under my hand because I knew that it would be painful to fit him inside my mouth. “Don’t tease,” Chan said, and I shivered at his harsh tone.

“I’m sorry,” I said, and I decided not to waste another moment before I was parting my lips around the head of Minho’s cock, tasting the gathered pre-cum on his tip. It was bitter because it was overwhelming, and my jaw was already aching as I hollowed my cheeks and tried to prevent my teeth from scraping across the sensitive underside of his erection.

“Harder,” Minho growled, and he reached down to grab fistfuls of my hair while forcing the remainder of his cock down my throat - triggering my gag reflex with the sudden motion. 

“I guess she’s not used to it,” Chan remarked - like it wasn’t a big deal that I could barely breathe around the intrusion, and spit was dripping from my lips as he proceeded to use me like I was nothing more than a warm space to fill with his cock.

“I’ll teach her for you,” Minho said, but it wasn’t a kindness to feel the tip of his cock hit the soft palate of my mouth, dragging between my lips as he ground his hips while moaning around a curse. 

But I still tried my best, sucking at the skin and using my tongue to trace against the ridges. I also kept my hands firmly behind my back, trying my best not to reach out for his thighs because I was afraid that he wouldn’t appreciate the feeling of my nails digging into my skin. Not that he seemed to be extending the same courtesy - fucking my mouth with loud grunts and tugging on my hair with enough force that my scalp was screaming for me to intervene.

“Does it feel good?” Chan asked.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Minho said, and his eyes were glossy from the alcohol settling into his system and the approaching orgasm which I could taste as I tried my best to swallow around him.

And it was almost disorienting when he pulled himself free, keeping one hand in my hair while the other stared to stroke the length of his erection with rapid jerks. “Look at me,” Minho growled, and I forced my gaze to meet his own. “I’m gonna cum on your tits,” Minho snarled, twisting my hair as I did my best to nod around the impossible hold.

“Shit, that’s hot,” Chan whispered, and I closed my eyes when Minho finally came, spraying his hot cum across my chest as his thighs trembled from the effort.

“Damn,” Minho said, and he took a strategic step back to survey me from afar. “She looks better this way.”

“I definitely agree,” Chan said, but I only felt disgusting as I sat there on my knees with their eyes observing my wilted figure. 

The Participant

For an entire week after my encounter with Minho, every time I spoke, or did something as simple as drink or eat with my friends, I was reminded of him. 

It wasn’t necessarily the worst thing that had ever happened to me, and I couldn’t deny that there was a small part of me that had been aroused at the idea of Minho’s rough treatment. But the problem emerged from the lack of disclosure from Chan because he seemed to take impressive liberties with the contract. And I didn’t mind having sex with the older man since I gave him my full consent, but these surprises that he sprung on me when I wasn’t expecting them? I wasn’t entirely happy about those.

In fact, the more that I thought about the incident with both Minho and Jisung, the more infuriated I became, and I couldn’t help the brusque tone that I used to greet Chan over the phone when he randomly contacted me the following weekend.

“Someone’s having a bad day,” Chan said, and I didn’t appreciate his accompanying laughter. 

“It’s just my classes,” I offered as a response, pinching the bridge of my nose to try and prevent an oncoming headache.

“I hope it’s not too bad because I’d like for you to meet me in the office,” Chan said, and I agreed without really thinking about the consequences. Because the last time I went to Chan’s office, I found myself being fucked on top of his desk with an executive watching in the background.

But I guess this was what I had literally signed up for, and Chan couldn’t possibly know that I hated our most recent encounters because I still wasn’t able to find the confidence to tell him. And maybe it was better this way since our arrangement was nothing but a superficial agreement between two consenting adults - we were both getting something out of it, and I didn’t want to risk losing the invaluable funding that he sent to my stunningly healthy bank account.

Instead, I put on my best smile for him when I walked into his office, greeting him at his Secretary’s desk as she offered me a courteous welcome. Does she know what’s going on? I wondered to myself when Chan took my hand and led me to the giant executive desk where he worked.

He chuckled when he patted his lap, and I dropped my bag onto the floor before dropping myself down between his strong thighs. “There you are,” Chan said with a smirk, tracing the pout of my lips with his thumb. “You look sexy today.”

“Thank you,” I said, and I hated to sound so timid in front of him, but he was still beyond intimidating, and I never knew what to expect from someone who continued to surprise me.

“I’ve missed you,” Chan said, and I hesitated when his hands found the hem of my t-shirt, crawling along the skin of my torso to hold me in place. “Last time was really fun.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, but it wasn’t very convincing. Thankfully, Chan didn’t seem to notice, and he brought me in for a sloppy kiss so that I could taste the mouth wash on his tongue.

“Let’s take a walk around the office,” Chan said, and I agreed because it seemed relatively normal in comparison to what he usually asked from me.

It was also startling domestic to hold his hand as he walked me through the maze of cubicles, talking about taxes and the stock market and whatever else he found interesting. In response to most of his conversation, I found myself nodding because I couldn’t comprehend his big text jargon or the complicated explanation when it involved his return on investment numbers.

“How about some lunch?” Chan suggested, and I agreed even though my stomach had twisted itself into knots during the ride over here.

However, when Chan reached out to hit the button to call for the elevator, he paused when he made eye-contact with someone walking out of the conference room. He sighed as he turned me around. “This is awkward,” Chan said, and I noticed that the tips of his ears were bright red. “I may have shown Changbin some pictures of you and....” Chan trailed off with a smile. “He really liked what I showed him.”

“Changbin?” I questioned, and Chan jerked his head to the side to indicate the exceedingly handsome gentleman who was lingering outside of the conference room with his eyes glued in our direction.

“Changbin really likes you,” Chan whispered, smiling as he allowed one hand to fall down and palm my ass.

I heard a sharp intake of breath, and I felt my entire face flush when I realized that it had come from Changbin. He was brazenly eye-fucking me from where he was standing, and I couldn’t even imagine the dirty thoughts running through his mind.

“He wants to fuck you,” Chan continued as if we were having a conversation about something as casual as the weather. “And I kinda want to see him pound this little pussy.”

He then audaciously cupped the heat between my legs and I squirmed around in his arms because we were in public. “What are you doing?” I asked, and there was every reason to panic when anyone could see us like this - when Changbin was already looking at us like we were incredibly interesting.

“He’s got a really big cock,” Chan added like that was supposed to convince me. “But I know that you’ll do it for me, right?”

I hesitated at his request, glancing back over my shoulder at Changbin who was still watching the two of us with a predatory gaze. “When?”

“Tonight,” Chan said before pressing a surprisingly gentle kiss to my lips. “I’ll have something nice sent to your apartment. Wear it for us, won’t you?”

“Of course,” I agreed, and the response sounded robotic even to my own ears.

True to his word, Chan had sent over a rather scandalous pair of lingerie to my apartment - a matching set of underwear that included a red thong and delicate bralette with lace elegantly lining the comfortable padding. There was also a very short black shirt in the package and a thin camisole which wasn’t meant to cover much of me. And I grimaced at my reflection in the mirror when I realized that I looked like someone out of Chan’s wet dream.

But instead of walking through campus with such an appearance, I had wrapped my scantily-clad form in a long coat when I greeted Chan that night outside of his apartment, hoping that he wouldn’t question my desire to ride the bus in something more appropriate for public viewing. But maybe he was too turned on to scold me, dragging me inside his apartment and closing the door before opening the front of my coat.

“Fuck,” he growled when he saw me in my outfit. “You look so good in this.”

“Thank you,” I whispered in return, and Chan tossed aside my coat while reaching down for my hand.

“There’s no reason to delay tonight’s fun,” he commented. “Changbin’s already waiting in the bedroom,” he said.

I swallowed hard the mention of the other man, trying to piece together my disorganized thoughts when Chan invited me inside the lavish bedroom that was the exact same size as my entire apartment. But I also wasn’t surprised by the ostentatious reminder of his tremendous wealth, especially when I realized that there was someone waiting inside just as Chan had promised. The same man from earlier at the office was sitting in a chair near the corner of the room, dressed in his work suit and looking at me from beneath a fringe of blonde hair while his fingers tightened around his whisky glass.

“You were so patient, Bin,” Chan remarked as he reached down to remove his shirt. 

“I think she’s worth it,” Changbin replied, and I tried not to squirm too much under his impenetrable gaze.

“What do you think of her outfit?” Chan asked, and he smirked while squeezing my ass through the skit.

“I’d rather see what’s underneath,” Changbin said, and his attitude was so nonchalant that I couldn’t deny that a small part of me was attracted to his eagerness.

“That can be arranged,” Chan agreed, and I held perfectly still as he removed my tank top before jerking my skirt down my thighs. 

He didn’t even need to tell me to step out of the offending piece of fabric, sliding it across the floor as I stood in front of Changbin in nothing more than the skimpy lingerie that Chan had chosen for me. “Damn,” Changbin grumbled, and one hand slid down his chest before settling on top of the obvious bulge in his pants.

“Shall we start?” Chan grinned, and I watched as he walked over to the bed to make himself more comfortable on top of the mattress before holding out his arms for me. “Come here, Y/N.”

I nodded, crawling over the silken sheets while Chan whispered compliments into the silent bedroom. “She’s so fucking hot,” Changbin remarked, and I held my breath when Chan used his raw strength to turn me around - bringing my back flush against his chest as one arm wrapped itself across my chest. I shivered in response to his impressive muscles, pressing myself even closer to him while his other hand crept down to remove my panties

“Look at this,” Chan whispered, ripping the fabric and exposing my bottom half for Changbin’s eyes. “Such a pretty cunt.”

Changbin inhaled sharply at the exposed skin, and he stood from the chair to walk over the edge of the bed. I closed my eyes because he was shameless, palming his erection over his pants while his eyes glued themselves between my thighs. “Spread her legs for me.”

Chan nodded, and I could feel the way his fingers parted the wet folds of my labia before he drug his thumb along my sensitive clitoris. 

“Oh, fuck,” Changbin growled, and his eyes were bright with lust as Chan continued to tease my throbbing sex while mouthing kisses against my throat.

“Do you see something you like?” Chan asked his friend as if the question was even necessary.

“Let me fuck her, Chan,” Changbin snarled, and I watched as he unzipped his suit pants before dropping them to the floor along with his boxer shorts, fisting his cock in one hand while the other worked at the buttons on his shirt. 

“I don’t know...” Chan trailed off with a teasing tone. “I’m not really in the mood to share.”

“We both know that's a lie,” Changbin said with a humorless laugh. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

I bit my tongue to hold back a moan when one of Chan’s fingers penetrated my tight walls, putting on a show for Changbin as he maintained eye contact with his business partner. It was like they were engaged in some sort of competition over me, and I was melting from Chan’s ministrations, feeling him move around with his fingers curling against all the right spots. He also started to scissor his fingers to stretch me out in preparation for whatever else might happen, and Changbin whimpered as he continued to stroke his hand up and down the impressive length of his throbbing cock. 

“I guess you can have it,” Chan said, and I yelped when he shoved me off his lap, tossing his legs over the side of the bed. “Hands and knees,” Chan barked, slapping my ass for good measure before he walked over to the same chair in the corner of the room. “You’ll be a good slut for Changbin.”

I whimpered at the rough treatment, and I tried to avoid Changbin’s gaze as I positioned myself on the center of the bed, dropping down onto my forearms while I raised my ass high in the air. I was breathing hard against the sheets, feeling my pulse skyrocket when the bed dipped beneath Changbin’s weight as he mounted me from behind. 

“Are you ready for me?” he asked, and I shook my head when he started to grope my ass, pulling apart my cheeks as his fingers prodded against the dripping entrance to my cunt. “Say my name, slut!”

I nearly screamed from the force of the slap he landed on my ass, and I took a deep breath to manage the pain. “Please, Changbin,” I sniffled, and there was nothing but blinding hot pleasure when he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down my slit.

However, he wasn’t nearly as patient as Chan, and I was shaking around the abrupt intrusion of his cock. He also wasn’t gentle, holding my hips with a bruising grip before he fucked his cock inside my wet heat, leaving me no room to breathe before he was driving his hips against mine like there wasn’t enough time in the world to split me open for him. “Shit,” Changbin hissed, and I was powerless when he shoved my face down into the pillows, forcing me back into an even deeper arch. 

“Play nice, Bin,” Chan said, and I could barely spot him from the corner of my eye. “You know I don’t like it when you break my toys.”

“Can’t help it,” Changbin grunted, and I could feel the fat head of his cock brushing against my cervix. 

“She feels good right?” Chan asked, and I finally located him, following his voice to see that he was rubbing his erection through the tented fabric of his pants.

“Her cunt is tight,” Changbin agreed, and he wasn’t even thrusting anymore; instead, he was manhandling me up and down his cock, slamming his hips against mine and filling the room with the sounds of wet slaps and crude moans as he chased his own pleasure.

He was fucking me like a madman, breath hot on the back of my neck. Everything was fast and hard, and the sound of the headboard hitting the wall was especially loud. “Fuck,” Changbin muttered, and I thought he might be slowing down, but he just adjusted his grip and set a brutal pace and fucked me even harder.

It was all too much, and I wasn’t expecting to come, but when he lifted one of my legs for a better angle, I felt a sudden wave of arousal drip around Changbin’s thick erection because he was scraping across my G-spot with every stroke. I moaned at the direct stimulation, and it felt like there was an impossible pressure building at the center of my abdomen, stretching and stretching until my vision nearly blacked out from the intensity of my orgasm.

“Yes!” Changbin groaned when I inadvertently squeezed around his cock even tighter, providing enough pressure to trigger his own orgasm. And I could feel his warm cum as it decorated the cavern of my pussy, escaping the place where we were connected with a squelching sound when he eventually pulled out.

“What a mess,” Chan groaned.

“Such a good little whore,” Changbin purred, reaching down to stuff his cum back inside where it belonged. I whined at the over-stimulation, but Changbin growled in response and slapped my ass hard. “I want one more round,” Changbin declared, leaving me lying on the bed as he rolled over to the side. 

“Sure,” Chan agreed, and I felt his hand soothing along the side of my face as he wiped away my tears. “How long do you need to get it back up, old man?”

“Shut up,” Changbin muttered. “Give me ten minutes.”

‘Well, that’s all I need,” Chan remarked, and I whimpered when he took his turn to mount me from behind, twisting his fingers into my hair as he slid his cock inside with one hard thrust, grinding his hips in long, sensual circles while whispering the filthiest words into my ears.

Present

It wasn’t very much like me to reveal all those intimate secrets, but something about Seungmin’s presence was safe and comforting. “What an asshole,” Seungmin remarked, discarding a fresh cigarette that he hadn’t even bothered lighting before returning his attention to me. “You deserve so much better than him.”

“He pays for everything,” I said. “He pays for my tuition, and he sends checks for the rent...”

“So?” Seungmin scoffed. “I can help you get a job at the diner where I work. You can make enough money to pay for those things without him.”

“It’s just so hard...” I broke off with a sudden exclamation, and my emotions were spilling out despite my attempts to suppress them, holding Seungmin even closer by the collar of his jacket as I sobbed into his shoulder. “He owns me.”

“No, he doesn’t, Y/N,” Seungmin said with a firm tone. “Do you understand me?”

I shook my head. “I signed a contract!”

“Every contract has a loophole,” Seungmin said. “And I’m sure it expires at some point, or you can negotiate your way out of the terms!”

“He’s a businessman,” I argued. “There’s no way I can win.”

“Not with that attitude,” Seungmin said with a fierce look. “You’re not alone, Y/N. I’ll even help you figure out how to leave him, but that’s what you need to do because this relationship is not good for you!”

“I kept telling myself that I didn’t care,” I whispered, sighing when Seungmin carded his fingers through my hair. “I guess I cared too much.”

“It’s alright,” Seungmin said, holding me close as he spoke reassurances into my stubborn ears.

“I’m scared, Seungmin,” I told him, and he nodded.

“I’ll give you all my strength,” he promised, and the sincerity of his words triggered a fresh wave of tears, and I cried while thinking about the difficult situation that I found myself in. 

The idea of Chan’s arrangement had once been enchanting because everything he promised seemed like a dream come true. But the reality was nothing short of a nightmare. And I was suddenly desperate to escape.

[captain-jensen]

Big Fan pt.2

Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: A couple of weeks after your initial interview turned date turned kiss, your interviews with the cast come out and people can’t get enough of yours and Toms’ chemistry. Also, for this fic Y/Y/N is Your Youtube Name. 

Warnings: Slight angst, fluff.

(I just thought this GIF was adorable)

   Your life has felt like a whirlwind for the past couple of weeks. Even though Tom was away doing the rest of his press-tour, you guys kept with each-other all day. He was always sending you funny texts about his recent junket, or sending you cute selfies whenever he could and you always returned the sentiment. Since that first night you had found it very hard to concentrate. Even though you were in the middle of filming a new review for another movie you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to the first kiss you two shared... and the following make-out sessions that happened over the course of that weekend. When Tom had to leave town you were devastated, but you knew it was necessary, just like it was necessary for you to finish your own work. While reviewing some footage for your newest video you got a text from your manager that was handling the publication of the interviews you did with the Spider-Man cast saying that the video was going live tomorrow. You were really excited for these junkets to come out. All of them went so well and you were really proud of yourself. Elated about the news you decide to share it with Tom. I can’t wait to watch xx, he responded. 

   When you wake up the next morning you shoot out of bed remembering what was happening today. You immediately check Youtube to see that your junket was trending. After watching the video you were even more happy with yourself, feeling like you might be able to properly pursue this press career. Completely forgetting to even check the comments, you move on with your day. As your coffee is brewing you check your phone to see a bunch of texts from a mix of your manager, your best-friend, and Tom. Responding to Tom’s sweet ‘good morning’ texts first you move down the line. Getting to your manager next it’s a flurry of exclamation points and praises. Finally, getting to your best-friend the first text you see is Why didn’t you tell me???!!!!!. Responding with confusion, you ask them what they’re talking about. All they do is tell you to read the comments on the junket. 

Omg, Tom was flirting with the interviewer so bad!!!!!

New ship: Tom Holland and Y/Y/N 

Y/Y/N’s new video is definitely gonna be the boyfriend tag!!!!!

I cannot handle the chemistry between Tom and Y/Y/N

That was singlehandedly the cutest interview I’ve ever seen. 

    You stand in shock in the middle of your kitchen. Even though no-one was around you could feel your face heating up. Not only did people think you and Tom were flirting back and forth, but they actually shipped you guys! You had to talk to Tom about your possible next move. You text him asking if he’s available to talk. You didn’t know it but that text caused fear to spike in Tom’s heart. He immediately responded saying he has the next half an hour free. Awaiting your call Tom tries to stop his speeding heart and convince himself that you’re not trying to end things already. He’s taken out of his mind when his phone starts ringing and your picture comes up on the screen. He rapidly answers it “Hey darling, how are things?” he tries to sound calm. 

“I’m good, did you see our interview together today?”

“No not yet, I’ll pull it up right now” Opening Youtube he sees the video is trending. “No way! It’s on the front page! Congratulations sweetheart, that’s awesome!” 

“Well I can’t exactly take all the credit for that Tom. I mean, your face is the thumbnail. But besides that, you have to see the comments” 

   Scrolling through the comments Tom feels a blush creeping up his own face. “Wow, that is quite the response” is all he can say. He’s worried that you’ll be annoyed with the fact that instead of people focusing on your interview skills they’re solely concentrating on the fact that he was smitten with you. 

“Yeah. What do you make of it?” you decide to ask, not being able to gauge his facial reaction. 

“I mean. I was caught red-handed I guess. What about you?” he asks equally as nervous as you are.

“I’m not sure yet. I think it’s sweet but at the same time something about it feels weird” You respond. In truth you were ecstatic that people thought you’d make such a cute couple. At the same time however, you didn’t want it to possibly scare Tom off. He deals with this stuff all the time, and it probably got annoying after a while. 

“Look, I’m not bothered by it if you aren’t” Tom says, breaking your thoughtful silence. 

“I’m not really bothered by it either.” You reassure him. 

“Ok, good. Maybe we shouldn’t respond though, until we’re both equally comfortable” 

“I agree” Even though you were happy with the interaction you were having with Tom, you couldn’t deny that neither of you had any idea what was going on between you two. “Well I’ve gotta go. I just wanted to call and talk about that with you. Also, I miss you.” You blurt out the last part. 

“I miss you too Y/N. Thanks for calling, I’ll talk to you later” With that you both say bye and hang up the phone. With your head reeling, you see another text from your friend asking you to explain what was happening. You tell them to meet you for lunch that day and you’ll explain everything. 

    At lunch that day you had to explain why you didn’t tell them about everything when it first happened. Explaining that you didn’t even know what it was yet and that you both wanted to keep it as low-key as possible. “Oh yeah, and you guys flirting almost shamelessly in your professional and serious interview is low-key” is all they say to you. You told them honestly though that at the time it didn’t feel like you were flirting. It just felt like a really good conversation. They just rolled their eyes at you, being able to clearly see what was going to happen. 

    A couple days later you upload your newest video. After checking the stats on the video you find yourself in the comments once again. 

When is Tom gonna be on your channel?!

Do the boyfriend tag with Tom!!!!!

   You notice that almost every comment runs along the same lines. All talking about Tom, asking about you guys, saying how much they ship you. Even though the intention was sweet you grew increasingly frustrated when you realised that no-one was talking about the actual video or what you had to say. As though he could read your mind you see that Tom is calling you. As soon as you pick up the call he’s singing you praises in your ear for your newest video. “That was such a good breakdown Y/N. It honestly made me see the movie in a whole new way”

“Thank you. I’m glad someone noticed” It slips out before you even have time to think.

“Are you ok? That didn’t sound too good”

“Yeah I’m sorry, I’m fine. I just read through all the comments and it seems like all anyone cares about is the fact that they want me to date Tom Holland”

“Yeah but just think about all the people who watched and loved it and just didn’t comment. I promise it’s not all everyone cares about” he says reassuringly.

“You’re probably right. There is a large gap between views and comments” 

“See! Exactly!” A small silence breaks the conversation before Tom perks up. “Guess what” he says through a smirk you can practically hear. 

“I don’t know, what?”

“I’m gonna be back in town next week!” He says excitedly. 

“That’s good to hear. I get to see you again right?” You ask only half joking. The other half was scared to hear him say he wouldn’t be able to see you. 

“I’ve actually got the whole week off, so we’re gonna spend as much time as we can together” he proposes.

“Well I look forward to it” You both say goodnight and hang up. 

    For the past week you’ve been increasingly more nervous to see Tom again. Even though you guys talk constantly, the thought of seeing him in person again had you feeling like the first time you met. While you were on your way to the coffee shop where you were meeting up with Tom, you went over how you wanted to bring up the conversation about what you guys were. You didn’t want to scare him by asking so quickly, but you had to know. You had to figure out if you should confirm or deny the rumours so that people would actually pay attention to your content again instead of your dating life. 

    “Hey gorgeous” You’re greeted by a smiling Thomas who pulls you into a gentle but affectionate hug. Clearly you were both feeling a bit awkward seeing each-other in person for the first time in a while. The first time, you guys had all the momentum of your first meeting, but now things have slowed down a bit between you and you’re trying to find your footing again. Even just 5 minutes into the date though it was like you were never apart. Conversation flowed openly and happily. Tom couldn’t get enough of the way your face scrunched up when you laughed at something he said. You couldn’t get enough of his laugh in general, it was contagious. After a bit, you decide that it’s time to bite the bullet and bring up the elephant in the room, which just so happened to seem like the biggest, scariest elephant in existence. “Can we talk about something?” you finally ask.

“What’s on your mind?” 

“Something that I think is on both of our minds” 

“Y/N, before you go any further, I just want to say that these past few weeks have been amazing. Even though we haven’t been able to spend time the way we’ve wanted, it’s made me realise that even just knowing that I get to talk to you on a daily basis makes me happy” Your heart skips a beat as he pours his out to you. 

“Tom I’ve really enjoyed our time together as well. That’s what makes me curious as to what exactly it means for both of us. Especially in regards to all of the rumours online. I want to know what you want me to say to them. I just want to put it all to rest so that people focus on my content again” you admit without stopping for breath.

“What do you want to say to them?” he asks suspiciously. 

“I mean, I don’t know” You start to feel sheepish. Not wanting to say it out loud in fear of rejection.

“Tell them it’s true” Tom spills out.

“What?” You ask, shooting your eyes up to meet his from the cup of coffee that was up to this point, very interesting. 

“Unless you don’t want it to be true!” Tom tries to backtrack to make you feel comfortable.

“No, I’d like to tell them it’s true. Only if you’re sure though” You say hopefully.

“I am very sure Y/N. I’ve even been thinking that the boyfriend tag sounds like fun” He says with sly smile spreading across his joyful face. 

“I don’t know Tom, I don’t really do those sorts of videos” You respond menacingly.

“Yeah but maybe you can make an exception” He says lowly, leaning in for sweet and tender kiss. In that moment you forget completely about what you were just talking about. It almost worried you how intoxicating his lips were. 

    You guys spend the rest of the week planning and executing the boyfriend tag video. Then all the comments turn from I ship it so hard to THEY’RE SO CUTE TOGETHER and IT’S REAL. And real it was. 

[mc-lukanette]

Luka was taking his usual route home, his coffee in hand and marked with his name, as it always was. All employees got one for free at the end of the day, and while it felt a little too generous for him to accept at first, he got used to the insistence, just glad to have a boss who wanted their workers to be happy.

That said, he hadn't opened it yet, planning on doing so when he got home in order to be perked up and ready to work on his music. The coffee he made without following a menu had a certain bite to it that somehow made the wake-up call even stronger, earning him the nickname "Viperion" from all the people he worked with. He didn't complain, obviously; it sounded cool.

As he walked down the wide sidewalk, he glanced up and noticed something that made him pause: a woman, slumped over a table and looking ready to either sleep or pass into the afterlife. He couldn't get a good look at her face, since she was face-down on the table and her black hair was making any of her features unseeable, but he saw the professional outfit she wore and the sketchbook resting under her hand, implying that she was overworked.

Luka realized belatedly that she didn't have a writing utensil in hand, his eyes drifting down to scan the circular table she was laying on. Indeed, there it was, on the opposite side of the table and continuing to roll along due to the occasional gust of wind. He rushed forward as it neared the edge, saving it from a sad fate on the sidewalk. He couldn't tell how fragile it was, but it seemed expensive, so he was glad to have come by when he did.

Slipping the pen between the open pages in the book, Luka's next priority was to duck down and check under the table for the woman's belongings. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that her purse was safely between her legs, unstolen and with the strap hanging around her shoulder. From the looks of how she was hunched over it with her legs pressed into the sides, he imagined that she might stir awake if someone attempted to take it or steal what was inside, but he wasn't going to take that chance.

He stood, placing a hand on her shoulder and giving her a gentle shake, even though he felt bad for doing so. The woman made an assortment of whines and groans at the motion, shifting away from him and curling in on herself. She even pulled her sketchbook in with her as if it were a pillow, clearly not willing to depart from whatever half-asleep state she was in. He couldn't help feeling bad for her; she was so obviously exhausted and he got the impression that this was a recurring thing.

While debating on what to do, he remembered the coffee in his hand, still hot and definitely a burst of caffeine for anyone who drank it. There was no question as to whether or not he should offer it to her, he just did, holding the cup out and gingerly pressing the bottom of it against the back of her hand while ensuring that the name side was facing away from her. She shifted again, but had a better reaction to the heat, maybe recognizing what it meant. She turned her head up, her hair parting just enough for him to see one of her eyes as it took in the cup in his hand.

His heart skipped a beat, having not expected to see such a bright blue color, but he remained still and waited for her reaction.

Eventually, the hand not touched by the cup came up to grab it, the other soon moving out from under the cup to do the same. She tilted her head back down at the table, then gave him a muffled, "thanks," probably thinking that he was someone serving her a drink she ordered.

He smiled, her voice reminding him of the pleasant chime of a bell. He was content to accept whoever she thought he was so long as she accepted the drink, releasing it so he could walk away from her. Once he was a fair distance away, he looked back to see that she was slowly pushing herself up so she could drink the coffee he'd given her. Satisfied and feeling that it was safe to go, he rounded the next corner to continue his way home.

—————

The next day at work was particularly slow, with Luka having difficulty keeping himself occupied. He'd already wiped down everything in the shop that he could think of without the customers starting to suspect that he had a cleaning obsession, so he gave into his personal wants and pulled out a notepad he kept on him. It wasn't much, but he used it to jot down little melodies that came into his head, figuring that he might be able to turn them into something special with a little bit of time and effort.

He'd only been able to sketch some quick staff lines when the front door opened, rapid footsteps following as someone apparently barreled through. He glanced up at him, only needing to look for a moment before he recognized them as the woman he'd helped yesterday, though she was sporting casual wear instead of her business attire. A few of the customers at the tables turned to eye her, their faces a mixture of curious and confused, but she didn't seem to care.

"Is—" The woman panted, waiting to catch her breath before she stood straight, raising her right hand to reveal the coffee cup she'd been given yesterday. "Is there a Luka here?"

Luka gaped, then raised the notepad to his mouth to hide the fact that he was chuckling. He'd honestly thought that something terrible had happened to her with the panic she was in, but this?

The woman looked around frantically, clearly hoping to get a positive response. The customers who'd focused on her earlier had glanced in Luka's direction at the mention of his name, causing her to follow their gaze to him. Luka himself lowered his notepad enough to offer her a smile, his free hand going up to greet her. She ran up to him, taking note of the signature on his name tag and then comparing it to the one on the cup.

"Oh—thank goodness," she sighed. "I found you." Setting the cup down, she threw herself face-down onto the counter. Luka felt glad that he'd just cleaned there.

Curious, he asked, "Why were you looking for me?"

"I am so sorry," she whined in response. Raising her head just enough to look up at him, she continued, "I was so tired and I wasn't even thinking, and then I drank all of your coffee!"

He blinked, half-wondering if maybe she'd been so tired then that she thought that she'd stolen it. Offering her a smile, he placed his hands on the counter and lowered himself until he was level with her, assuring, "I gave it to you, it's okay. We get them for free. Besides, you looked exhausted and you definitely needed it more than I did."

"Still!" she argued, pushing herself back up with a pout.

The speed of her response told him that she actually knew already that she didn't steal it, yet was still that distraught over the matter of drinking his coffee anyway. He thought it was cute.

She threw her arms out. "And I'd never been to this place before and had to find directions on my phone and I was so worried that I might've picked the wrong one and I wouldn't know since I figured you were just a customer so my chances of finding you again were already bad and even if you were a regular I wouldn't even know what you looked like—" She stopped herself, letting out a sigh as she seemed to realize that she was getting side-tracked.

Luka watched, a mixture between amused and maybe a little charmed as the woman pulled out her purse and began to dig through it. Though he couldn't make out much, he could tell that it was organized, leading to her pulling out what she'd been looked for relatively quickly.

With a sudden serious look on her face, she firmly placed the money she'd grabbed down on the counter. "Anyway, at least let me pay you back! I don’t care if you got it for free or not!"

Luka looked at her, then the money, then back at her, reminding himself that she really went through so much trouble over a cup of coffee and it was absolutely adorable. He wasn't sure what his face looked like, but he knew it wasn't his normal "customer smile."

"What's your name?" he finally asked, once he'd put his thoughts together.

"W-what?" The serious expression vanished, replaced by surprise. "Um—" She tilted her head, but answered him anyway despite not knowing why he was asking. "Marinette."

Marinette.

Grinning at the melody taking place in his head, he turned away from her, abandoning the money she'd set down and picking up a cup to start writing on. "So, what kind of coffee do you want for that money?"

"H-hey!"

[5-seconds-of-bucky]

Tasty Pastry (Baker!Shawn au)

A/N: Hello lovely people! I attempted to make an angsty baker!Shawn, and I must say, I’m quite pleased with how it turned out. Thanks for your support and happy reading! :)

Summery: Life at the bakery is great until the unpredictable happens and Shawn blames it all on you

Word Count: 4.2k+

Warnings: Swearing, angst

“Thank you, your muffin will be out in a minute,” you said to the customer with a smile. They smiled politely with a nod and stepped aside for the next person in line. There was no one behind them though, so you went ahead and started working on their order. 

 It was an unusually slow day for the bakery. You were usually hopping at eight in the morning. Perhaps you could attribute the lack of business to the gloomy day. People were probably headed to coffee shops where they could get a good dose of caffeine instead of a bakery to fix their sweet tooth. 

Shawn walked up behind you as you turned around to grab a box for the muffin, causing you to smack right into him. His hands grabbed your shoulders, making sure you weren’t going to fall down.

“Fancy meeting you here, darling. We’re gonna need more flour soon,” he said with his signature grin.

“Didn’t we buy a ton not too long ago?” you asked as you maneuvered around him to grab the box.

“Yeah but I was experimenting on that new cake and we had a huge cupcake order last week.” He waved to the waiting customer and went to fix something on the chalkboard menu. 

“I’ll add it to the list.” You walked over to the clear case on top of the counter that held a number of pastries, taking out a blueberry muffin and putting it in the box before handing it to the customer. “Have a great day.” 

They nodded once again and left, leaving just you and Shawn in the bakery. It was the perfect day to experiment with some new creations. 

“Think I’m gonna try to make that cheesecake recipe you sent me the other day,” he said once he finished writing. “But I’m going to make it just red berries instead of mixed.” 

“Okay, well I have to go to the bank at some point to make a deposit so are you good to hold down the fort for thirty minutes or so?” 

“Why don’t we go together after closing and grab dinner? We haven’t had a date night in a while.” 

“Ooh, yes! We definitely need a date night”  

The day continued on as expected; a few people here and there but nothing exceptionally busy. The smell of whatever Shawn was making was absolutely divine, and you found yourself peaking your head in every couple minutes to see how it was going. He had three different versions of that cheesecake going on while he was also making a few batches of cupcakes and cinnamon rolls. 

“You’re back again?” he laughed when you walked back there for what must have been the 50th time in the past hour. 

“The display case needs to be refilled, okay? Stop belittling me. Besides, cinnamon rolls are amazing and I know you love seeing my beautiful face every two seconds.” You winked at him as you pulled out a tray and placed a variety of pastries on it. 

“You’re not wrong about that.” Two years of marriage and he would never get tired of your teasing. He continued staring at you as you loaded the tray. He remembered the day he proposed to you in that very spot like it was yesterday. 

“This is going to take forever to clean up,” you laughed as you motioned to the mess of flour and batter on the counters around you. “Why did you think it was a good idea to make such an extravagant cake at two in the morning?”

“It was in the name of science! We had to do it!” He held up a whisk and bopped your apron with it, leaving a bit of egg on the green material. 

“We have to be up early to drive to my parents house! Why did I let you talk me into this?” There was a smile behind that scold, and he knew you could never actually be mad about spending time with him. 

“Because you love me! Admit it!” He wrapped his arms around you from behind, using a finger to swipe some flour off the counter and wipe it on your cheek.

“Gross!” you giggled. “I would never.” 

“You sure about that?” His head rested on your shoulder and he gave you a smirk. 

“I mean, what crazy person would a good looking man who can bake?” You leaned your head into his. 

“I think you do.” You both giggled and he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. “We should probably clean up.” 

It was quiet as you wiped everything down, the only noise being the hum of the refrigerator and your footsteps as you moved around the kitchen. 

“Almost ready to go?” you asked as you shook out your apron and hung it in the wall. 

“Yeah, one second. I need to grab something.” He walked towards you, stopping a few feet away and opening a drawer. He reached to the back, fumbling around before pulling out a small black box. Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to figure out what it was and why you hadn’t seen it earlier. 

He came towards you again. “I thought about putting it in a cupcake or something but I didn’t want the ring to get all sticky so I used my better judgement there,” he laughed nervously, bending down on one knee. “I’ll skip all the sappy stuff cause that’s not your thing. So, to keep it short: I really, really love you, Y/N. Will you marry me?” 

You stared at him in shock. You had been dating for three years but you never saw a proposal coming. 

“Yeah,” you laughed nervously. “Yeah, I’ll marry you.” 

He let out a quiet yes as he stood up and grabbed you into a hug. You were both laughing through tears of joy and you swayed side to side. 

“I can’t believe you proposed at two forty-five in the morning.” 

He couldn’t do anything but smile. 

“You alright?” you asked with a raised eyebrow, snapping him back to the present. 

“Yeah, just thinking.” 

“Less thinking, more baking.” You picked up the tray and walked over to him, kissing the top of his head and walking out of the kitchen.

Two hours later, you were cleaning everything up and getting ready to close shop. Your backpack was already on your back and you worked quickly, wanting to get to the bank before it closed. 

“I’ll take that,” Shawn said, taking your backpack off your shoulder and hoisting it onto his own. 

“Why thank you, my dear.” 

“My pleasure, m’lady.” He threw an arm over your shoulder as you exited the bakery for a well deserved date night. 

~

Shawn hummed at something you said as you walked back home, seeming distracted from the conversation. 

“What’s up? You seem in your head.” 

“It’s nothing,” he mumbled. “You locked up before we left, right?” 

“Uhh . . .” You racked your brain, trying to remember if you did. “Maybe?”

“I just wanna check before we go home.” 

You nodded, and neither of you said anything as you walked there. Shawn furrowed his eyebrows and you felt him tense up next to you as the bakery came into view. He walked faster, causing you to have to pick up the pace as well. 

You understood why he was so tense once you reached the front of the store. 

“What the-”

Shawn shot out an arm in front of you, his body partially covering you as he looked through the window. “Stay behind me.” 

The bakery was a mess. The door was slightly ajar and Shawn could see overturned chairs and the broken display case through the windows. 

“What’s going on?” you asked, trying to peek around him.

“I said stay back,” he growled. You stopped trying to see past him, knowing that fighting him when he was protective usually didn’t get you far. 

“I’m going in. Stay here.” 

“No, I’m going in.” Despite the previous fact, it was your bakery too, and you deserved to see what happened to some degree. 

He glared at you and you glared right back. He eventually gave up, knowing you were too stubborn to let him go in alone. “Fine, just please, stay behind me in case someone’s still in there.”

He eased the door open and flicked on the lights. The bakery was a disaster. Chairs were strewn everywhere, posters on the wall torn to shreds, the glass display case you used to hold pastries was shattered, and the cash register was smashed on the ground. 

“Oh my God,” you whispered, placing a hand on Shawn’s shoulder. You could feel the anger rolling off of him and you gave it a small squeeze in hopes it would help calm him to the slightest.  

He made his way to the back kitchen with you following close behind. The cafe area was bad, but the kitchen looked like three tornadoes went through it. Pastries were smeared over the walls and floor, utensils were thrown everywhere, and the fridge had been left open, making sure everything that wasn’t smashed was spoiled. 

“Stay here and call the police. I’m going to check to make sure there’s nobody lurking.” 

You didn’t fight him this time. Shawn left slowly, taking calculated movements in case someone was still in the bakery. 

He came back as you were finishing up and shook his head.

“Nobody in the shop. Doesn’t look like anything is missing. I just don’t get why,” he said, leaning against a counter and running a hand through his hair. “It looks like they just came to mess with stuff, not take anything.” 

“I don’t know. The dispatcher said to check security tapes but since we don’t have any, there’s not much we can do.” 

The thing was, Tasty Pastry was located in an older part of town. All of the buildings around it had been around for generations and most businesses never bothered putting up extra security measures. The likelihood of having someone else’s cameras catch whoever did this were slim to none, considering most didn’t have any. 

“If you just locked the fucking door,” he muttered under his breath. You heard it anyways and it stung, but you let it slide. He was frustrated. 

You stared at your feet until the police showed up. They took statements and went to investigate the scene, leaving you and Shawn standing outside until they finished. 

“How could you forget to lock the door? You do it every day,” he said, arms crossed and head leaned against the brick wall of the bakery. A breeze blew by and you shivered, finding yourself wishing you hadn’t left your jacket at home that morning.  

“I’m sorry, it must’ve just slipped my mind,” you said, twisting your wedding ring back and forth. 

“Slipped your mind?” he laughed sadly.

“I’m sorry, Shawn. I was just-”

“It just slipped your mind, Y/N? Do you see what happened? This one thing that ‘slipped your mind’ is going to cost us a fortune.” 

“I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration.” 

“Oh, really? We’re going to have to close for at least three days; three of our busiest days of the week to clean everything up. Not only that, but we have to buy all new ingredients too. We’re going to lose time trying to get back on schedule for orders and keeping up with everyone else coming in. Time is money, Y/N. You’re downplaying this situation way too much,” he scoffed, kicking a pebble with his worn out sneakers. 

“Look, Shawn. I know it’s my fault and I deserve all the blame, but we can bounce back from this. It’s a minor setback.” You turned to face him. 

“Minor setback, huh? We have to replace the display case, all of the pastries and upcoming orders, keep up with the demand. That’s not a minor setback.” 

“We’re going to be fine. Accidents happen; we’ll get through it.”

“Accidents happen?” he raised his voice and you flinched slightly. “Look at what happened because of this accident, Y/N. Look at this mess you made.” He gestured to the inside of the bakery and you knew he was right, but his tone was a little harsh. He was right to be mad at you, but that didn’t mean that he had the right to talk to you like that. 

“I think I need to go home,” you said quietly, pushing yourself off the wall and dusting off your pants. 

“You’re going home at a time like this? Nice, Y/N. That’s real nice.” 

“Well where the hell am I supposed to go? You obviously don’t want me here.” You threw your hands out in exasperation. “We’re both upset right now and I don’t think you want me around, so I’m going home.” With that, you turned in the other direction to walk home. Shawn didn’t even call after you, just watched as your figure grew smaller and smaller in the distance. 

Considering all the events that had just happened, you’d think your mind would be swirling with thoughts and anxiety. How are we going to fix the shop? Does Shawn hate me now? This is all my fault. Surprisingly though, your mind was blank as you trudged on the sidewalk. All you could do was count your steps until you got home. 

You sighed when you reached the front door, patting your pockets to find your key. You frowned and patted again, only finding your phone. That was when you realized that your keys were in your backpack, which was at the bakery. Great. 

You leaned your head against the door, whispering a soft “shit” to yourself as a tear feel. A breaking and entering, fight with your husband, and getting locked out of your house. Could this day get any worse? 

You pulled out your phone to call Shawn, finding yourself half hoping he wouldn’t pick up. Which was worse: waiting outside in the cold for him to come home who knows when or call him to admit you locked yourself out? 

The phone was ringing before you could decide and you leaned your back against the door, trying to shield yourself from the cold and hoping your husband would pick up.   

“You’ve reached Shawn. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you soon!”  

“Dammit, Shawn!” You dropped your head to your chest. All you wanted was to go inside and go to sleep. 

You stood there for a few minutes, debating if it was worth it to break a window to get in, when you remembered that you had a spare key hidden on the deck behind the house. 

You walked around to the backyard to grab the key, sighing in content once you were inside the warm house. You were ready for bed in ten minutes and knocked out well before Shawn made it back. 

~

Shawn stood in the doorway of your bedroom, watching you breath and feeling only the slightest bit guilty. It was one in the morning and he was exhausted beyond belief, yet he couldn’t bring himself to lay down next to you. 

He was still mad out of his mind, but he knew it was wrong to yell at you like he did. It was a strange feeling to have; simultaneous anger and guilt. He finally laid down, keeping as much distance as possible between you. 

Needless to say, he didn’t sleep well that night. 

~ 

You woke up around 6 that morning, Shawn on the complete opposite side of the bed. Seeing him so far away broke your heart. You weren’t people to sleep overly close to each other, but he was never facing the other way, far away as possible. 

You got out of bed and dressed quickly, trying to stay quiet so he wouldn’t wake up. He didn’t look as peaceful as he usually did when he was asleep, and you couldn't help but blame yourself for it. 

You left him a short note before leaving for the bakery:

Went to the bakery to start cleaning up. See you later. Love you! 

You assumed he would sleep late and show up later in the day. By 6:45, you were out of the house and ready for a long day of putting things back together. 

~ 

You checked the clock for the 100th time that day. 12:37 in the afternoon and Shawn still hadn’t shown up. You had done nothing but clean for the past five and a half hours, yet you couldn’t find it in yourself to take a break. The mess was your fault, after all.

You found yourself sitting down, calling Shawn about an hour later. It went straight to voicemail, which didn’t surprise you all that much. That didn’t mean it didn’t sting though.  

“Hey, babe. I’m at the shop. About halfway done with the cleaning and I’m gonna order supplies before I leave. Hope everything’s okay at home. I’ll see you later, I guess. Okay, love you. Bye.” 

He’s probably just busy, you thought. Nothing to worry about. 

Shawn was staring at his phone when you called him, actually. He felt conflicted as he clicked the decline button. He wasn’t that angry with you anymore; it wasn’t really all your fault. He could’ve locked the door. If anything, he felt guilty for yelling at you, but he was worried you were just going to yell at him for not coming in to help. 

He shouldn’t have let you walk alone last night or even that morning. There were so many alleyways along the walk to the bakery, and he always made sure you were with him or on the phone with him when you walked home; well, almost always. 

What if you were walking back and you needed him? What if something happened at the shop? The more and more he thought about it, the more he regretted not answering your call. 

His worries were calmed when he listened to the voicemail, though. You didn’t even sound upset with him, just tired. What time did she leave?  

Within five minutes of listening to the voicemail, he knew he needed to go to you. 

You were ordering ingredients when you heard someone walk in. It was 5:15 and you were beyond exhausted. 

“Sorry we’re-” you looked up to see Shawn, hands in his pockets, a guilt-ridden look on his face. “closed.”  

You both stared at each other for a minute, neither having the courage to break the tension. You eventually looked back to your computer, deciding to finish the order before Shawn decided to yell at you for messing everything up again. 

Shawn silently took a stool up to the counter, sitting across from you and patiently waiting for you to finish. He looked up from his hands every once and awhile, seeing how the stress of the day was manifesting in your demeanor: slouched posture, head resting on your hand, eyes blinking so slow you sometimes looked like you were falling asleep. Knowing he was half the reason for it only made him feel even worse. 

How do you nicely tell your wife she looks like shit? 

His eyes shot up when he heard the soft click of your laptop closing. You placed your hands on top of it and fiddled with your ring, trying to find the right words to say. 

“Last night . . .” you paused. What was the right way to address this? “I know it’s my fault, and I deserve every bit of the blame. I get why you’re mad.” You couldn't find it in yourself to look up at him. 

Your voice was devoid of emotion and he almost hated that you weren’t yelling at him for going off on you the night before. 

“Y/N, I shouldn’t-”

“Please, just let me say what I need to say. Then you can yell at me all you want.”

“I’m not-”

“Shawn.” It was stern, almost pleading with him to just let you finish. He lazily crossed his arms over his waist, leaning forward, waiting for you to continue. 

“I get why you’re mad, and I’m really, really sorry. But even if it was my fault, I don’t think you should’ve talked to me like that last night.” 

Amidst your talking, Shawn found himself wondering what exactly you had done that day. The bakery looked pretty good considering the circumstance. With an exception of the broken ones, most of the chairs and tables were back in the right places. Pastry remnants were no longer visible on the floor and the kitchen appeared to be fairly put back together. Did she even stop to take a break? Did she eat today?  How long had she been here? 

“Okay, you can yell at me now.” 

“Wha- Why do you think I want to yell at you?” 

“You were pretty pissed last night and you’ve been ignoring me all day.” 

“No I . . .” He reached across the counter to grab your hands in his own, squeezing them slightly and hoping you would squeeze back. “I came to apologize.”

You left your hands limp in his and his heart sunk. It was such a little gesture, yet it meant so much to him.  

“I shouldn’t’ve yelled at you. I was frustrated and upset but you didn’t deserve that. Truth is, I could’ve locked the door. It’s just as much your fault as it is mine. I’m not even mad at you, to be honest.”

“So you’re not mad at me?” You looked at him with slight disbelief. “Then where were you all day?” 

“I was at home . . . debating if I should come in or not.” 

You pulled your hands out of his, wiping them on your jeans before letting out a sarcastic laugh. “So, you stayed home all day, let me clean up a mess we’re both responsible for, and thought you could say three sentences and everything would be okay?” 

He kept his eyes down, feeling even more shame in the moment. 

“Wow. Wow, Shawn. You really let me do all the work while you sat at home?”

“Y/N-”

“You know what? I’m going home. I’ve been working non-stop for eleven hours. I’m tired, hungry, and I don’t have time to deal with your bullshit.” You shoved your laptop into your backpack and tossed it over your shoulder.

“Y/N, please.”

You were out the door before he could say anything else, turning right on the sidewalk and making your way home. It pained him to watch you go, but he didn’t know if going after you was the right thing to do in this situation. 

He had no idea what to do, so he did the one thing he knew to do: bake. 

He somehow managed to find enough ingredients for cinnamon rolls within various cabinets. Between random bags of flour that were never finished off before a new bag was started and the other random things he found, he was bound to be able to piece the recipe together. Cinnamon rolls were your weakness, and while they wouldn’t fix the issue, they sure couldn’t hurt. 

At home, meanwhile, you contemplated if you were overreacting to the situation. Shawn had his own troubles he had to deal with. You were both in rough spots and different ways of dealing with them. Still, that didn’t justify him ignoring you all day. 

You decided to just wait until he came home. 

Shawn came back at 8:45 that night. You were scrolling through your phone, almost falling asleep on the couch from the long day when you heard the sound of the door opening and Shawn’s footsteps entering the house. Your head shot up at the noise and he noticed you on the couch right away. 

“I come with peace,” he said, holding out the box of cinnamon rolls in front of himself. You let out a small laugh and watched as he made his way over to the couch, putting the box in between you before taking a seat. 

“I know you’re mad at me,” he started, staring at the ground with such intensity you thought he would burn a hole through it. “And you have every right to be. I shouldn’t have yelled at you or ignored you. I really need to apologize, and I’m so, so sorry, Y/N. I know it isn’t going to fix much, but I really am.” He looked up to see you looking right back at him. There was a conflicting look of emotion on your face, but he couldn’t figure out quite what it was. 

“I’m not that mad at you for yelling at me anymore. To be fair, I shouldn’t have yelled at you either. I just don’t get why you ignored me. I mean . . . I don’t get it.” You rested an elbow on your thigh, leaning your head onto your hand and looking at Shawn’s knees.

“There was no reason.” You frowned “I was worried you were going to yell at me, which I guess happened anyways.” He let out a light chuckle. “I’m just an idiot.” 

You nodded your head and sat up straight. “Can’t disagree with that.” 

He smiled and shook his head. “What can I do to make it up to you?”  

“Accept my apology for yelling at you and eat these cinnamon rolls with me?” 

“That’s way too easy but I’ll take it.” You both took out a cinnamon roll and clinked them before taking a bite. 

Oh, the wonders of Tasty Pastry. 

Taglist // Add yourself

@aelingalthynius @musicalkeys @voguesir @lonelyreputation @fallinallincurls

[lovelyirony]

the much anticipated second part for the amnesia-related fic. 

A wedding ring. 

This doesn’t mean that he and Tony are married except that he hasn’t seen Tony with a wedding ring and he hasn’t mentioned a wife and he doesn’t sound like he has a wife and if Rhodey-if Jim had a wife, then wouldn’t he know about her? Wouldn’t they have met by now? He may not know Tony yet, but he doesn’t think that he would be that cruel. 

“Colonel Rhodes-” 

“Friday, don’t,” Jim says, swatting at the air. “What-why did you hide that from me?” 

“Sir believed it would be best,” Friday answers, tone almost quieter. “He...wasn’t sure that you would understand.” 

“I don’t understand,” he says. “Why would I marry him of all people? He’s not exactly my type.” 

“Since I am a learning program, I cannot say for sure. Humans do a lot of illogical things.” 

He’s trying to wrap his head around it and avoid Tony at the same time. 

Friday won’t let him see any wedding pictures, not until he remembers more. 

- 

Even though he’s been (mostly) successful at avoiding Tony for about a week and a half, the man is still so nice. 

He’s still operating under the assumption that Jim has no idea that they’re married, and he does stuff like leave out a cup of coffee and offer breakfast up or ask if he wants pizza for dinner.

Jim reads too much into it. 

And he doesn’t know why, because it’s not like anything has really changed, except for the fact that Tony won’t call him Rhodey. 

Jim gave him permission to, saw how much it killed him with every correction and every reminder. Told him “you can call me Rhodey, if you want.” 

And he doesn’t. 

Tony never does. 

He still almost says it, but Jim is quicker on the tongue, and he doesn’t make a move to try to push any memories at all. 

(Even though he remembers how happy Tony was to hear that memory about grocery shopping and Dum-E’s code source.) 

He does want to remember. He wants to remember why he apparently married Tony and was genuine about it, why Pepper and him are best friends and never were anything more, why he’s...why he’s so different from what he wanted. 

-

Tony knows that Jim’s acting differently. He’s not sure why. He’s not sure he wants to know why, because that might complicate everything. 

And he doesn’t want another thing to be wrong. Everyone’s walking on eggshells around him except for the one damn person that probably should be, but Rhodey’s never been good at following rules. (But he’s good at fooling people.) 

Pepper talks to Tony a lot. Asks him how he’s doing, if there’s anything she can do. 

Repair someone’s memory is a little bit outside of her area of expertise. 

“It’ll be okay,” she says, putting her tiny hand over his. “Things will work out.” 

They both know that in Tony’s life, luck has never been quite what it seems. Or existent at all, at times. 

-

Ironically, it’s their anniversary of the wedding when Jim remembers something else. It actually comes in the form of looking in the fridge and not finding his apples. 

“Quit leaving honey-crisp off of the list just because you don’t like them you asshole,” he calls to Tony. 

Tony almost yelps. 

“Out of everything in your life and that’s what you remember? Your stupidly sweet apples?” 

“Are you gonna get them?” 

“Why don’t you come with me?” Tony asks, “just so that you can get your apples and maybe get out of the house for once.” 

“Hmph. Fine,” Jim answers. “Where’s my coat?” 

“Uh...” Tony trails off, trying to find the words. “Third peg on the...right, I think?” 

“You’ve known me for years, and you don’t know where my coat is?” 

Rhodey is always the one to hang up his coat, and then put his arms out for Tony’s. 

“To be fair, I am important and fancy and a big deal,” Tony scoffs. “Come on, go get your coat and then I’m going to show you what horrible things you buy from the store.” 

“It’s not that bad. And what, you don’t like good apples?” 

“As sour as can be, sourpatch. As sour as can be.” 

-

Grocery shopping with Tony is...interesting. He didn’t think it would take so long. 

“This is why you don’t usually come,” Tony teases him. “I take so long and you end up sitting in the car and cursing at Pepper or Happy about how much time I spend dedicated to snack-judging.” 

“And I put up with that?” 

“You do,” Tony says, grabbing the cart. “Because you love me and you deal with a lot worse from me.” 

“Like what?” 

“Best not to talk about it,” Tony says. “We’re in public after all, honey.” 

“Ugh, boo,” Rhodey teases. “Give me the list. I bet I can speed-run this.” 

“How? Technically, you don’t think you’ve ever been to this store before!” Tony exclaims with a gigantic, shit-eating grin. 

“Way to rub it in you bastard,” he says with a laugh. “Now come on, I wanna see what kind of salad you think we’re gonna get.” 

“Not you thinking you’re going to be eating junk food,” Tony sighs. 

“I lost my memory!” 

“That would’ve worked, like, two weeks ago. Now I know better.” 

Grocery shopping is...fun. They make fun of foods and different products, and Tony shows him which things he might like. 

“I like...I like fruit salad?” 

“Yes, yes you do Rhodey-dear,” Tony says. “Your favorite thing in the world for fruit.” 

“Seems suspicious.” 

“You’ll have to try it again, then.” 

Rhodey watches him as they’re shopping. He’s easy to be around, honestly. He has that sort of energy that makes you feel like he’s just happy to be in that moment. 

Tony also has very questionable taste in everything. 

“Quinoa?” 

“What? You’ve eaten it before! It’s not your least favorite thing that I’ve cooked?” 

“How is it not? Is it because I’m old?” 

“No, not because you’re old,” Tony scowls. “When you’d come back from the service, you’d eat literally anything I put in front of you. I once gave you a block of cheese and you just sat there. Eating it.” 

“There’s no way I did that.” 

“You did! Ask Pepper, she has a picture of it!” 

He goes back to quiet after that, remembering the picture. 

-

Jim isn’t even sure he wants to bring it up. He’s not even sure if he could love Tony again, and somehow that thought makes his head hurt. 

He knows that apparently, he fell in love once. 

So he needs answers. 

-

Jim had talked to his parents, but he hadn’t really had an opportunity to talk about anything important. Try as he had to get more information out of them, they weren’t giving much up, except for parts about his military achievements and funny stories that he’s written to them about. 

When he gets back home and he sees Mama, she knows. 

“Come here baby,” she says, putting him into her arms. “Let me answer your questions.” 

“Why him?” 

Mama laughs, grinning up at him from her place on the couch. 

“You reacted like this when you first started rooming together, too. I was worried that I’d be involved in a court case for attempted murder!” 

“And you weren’t?” 

“No,” Mama answers. “Instead, I get no phone call from you for three weeks, until the day before your holiday break started, and you told me that you were bringing who you used to call ‘the biggest nuisance since fruit flies’ home to Thanksgiving.” 

“Why did I...why did I bring him?” 

“I didn’t get that answered until he fell asleep,” she says. “I’m making you some coffee, alright dear?” 

“Okay, so long as I get an answer.” 

“So impatient,” she mutters as she makes her way to the kitchen, Jim following. 

He watches how easily his mom pours the coffee, and remembers in a brief flash that Tony always would bring the fancy, flavored creamer to the holiday events. 

“Oh come on,” Tony said. “You have gotten too used to my kindness, and there’s no reason to stop being kind. Besides, remember last year when you nearly cried because I bought creamer from the store? Yeah, not having a repeat of that.” 

“And would that be so bad?” he teased Tony, wrapping an arm around his waist, and-

He blinks. 

That was...that was definitely a new kind of memory. 

“James, are you alright?” His mother is looking at him, and maybe she knows, maybe she doesn’t know that he just remembered something. He’s honestly not sure. 

“Uh, yeah. Fine. I’m good.” 

Mama looks across the room, smiling. 

“He was a timid little thing when he got here. Fixed up the washing machine when it broke, just in time. Nearly wore a suit to dinner, said you didn’t tell him what kind of ‘casual’ we were going for...” 

He snorts as he slowly remembers that one. 

“What do you mean you didn’t mean a suit?!” Tony had wailed, gripping Rhodey’s shirt. “You said I had to dress nice!” 

“I meant literally anything but your Black Sabbath shirt!” 

“Why would I have worn my Black Sabbath shirt? Your mom would probably think I was a Satanist!” 

They both look at each other for a moment, and Rhodey’s the first one to break and laugh. 

“Listen you idiot, it won’t be so bad. We can just ditch the coat, ditch the tie, and you’ll be...okay. A bit nicer than most of us, but hey. That’s what I get for not telling you that suits are weird.” 

“Suits are not weird, you’re just uneducated in what is sophisticated,” Tony says, turning his nose up as Rhodey rolls his eyes. 

“Oh yeah, sure, because knowing which one is the dessert spoon is going to help me save people abroad. My bad.” 

Tony looks back at him, and his heart skips a beat. It does. Really, it does. 

It almost feels like someone’s reading back to him what he already knows at this point. 

His mom squeezes his hand, smiling. 

“You remember at least some of it, don’t you?” 

“Well...uh, yeah? I-I do.” 

“Does Tony know that you know that you’re...married?” 

“No,” Rhodey says. “I know some, but not enough.” 

“Give him a chance,” she says. “And get back home, I’m sure he’s missing you.” 

Rhodey embraces his mother, and prepares for the drive home. 

- 

Being missed is a weird concept to deal with. 

He also did not exactly think of that. So he’s currently driving back and checked his phone to seven missed calls from Tony, three from Pepper, and one text from Happy that simply reads “lol ur dead hahaha good luckkkkk” 

Well shit. 

Tony, understandably is pissed and scared and a tad upset. 

Not a tad. 

“Where were you?” He says as soon as Rhodey appears back in the kitchen. Tony’s hands wander close, and he almost leans in. 

Almost. 

“I was visiting my parents,” he responds. “Sorry, forgot to text.” 

“Please remember next time, your-well, Tony’s annoying when you leave,” Pepper says. 

(Okay Rhodey doesn’t know how they got away with this for so long, it’s really, really obvious that they’ve been covering it up.) 

“I will,” Rhodey says. “Did I miss anything?” 

“I’ve elected that we’re going to cook tonight,” Tony declares. “I am absolutely sick to death of takeout, and I’m pretty sure that with your lack of knowledge on recipes now, I have you beat in the kitchen.” 

“I can still read recipes, you dumbass. Besides, I just remembered your stupid ‘bake’ hack for your stupid casserole dish, so...” 

“Out of everything, and that’s the thing you remember today?!” 

“Well, I also remembered that apparently you wore a suit to my house for Thanksgiving!” 

Tony stops. 

“What else you remember from that, or was it just that?” 

He doesn’t want to say anything in front of Pepper, doesn’t want to say anything just yet. 

“I remember that you were weird about your suit!” 

Tony deflates a bit, but still smiles. 

God, he looks gorgeous. 

Rhodey blinks. Shakes his head out of the thought.

“So. What are we cooking?” 

- 

Tony and cooking is a very interesting concept because it shouldn’t work. 

He never stops moving, can lose interest quickly, and Rhodey would think that he could burn water. 

But he doesn’t. Tony hums along to music, and he tells him all about his favorite songs and why. 

It’s not any rock music, any heavy metal. 

“I don’t listen to that all the time,” Tony says. “You always think I do!” 

“Oh right, because someone who personally has Angus Young’s number just casually isn’t someone who listens to the band all the time, sure,” Rhodey says sarcastically. 

Tony grins, and it’s probably the best damned thing he’s seen all day. 

His heart zings at the realization that Tony smiling is what makes him smile now, what makes him want to stay and learn so much more about how they came to be, what they’ve done together. 

-

Dinner is fun. Tony tells him all about college and what they used to do, and what Rhodey had done. 

Memories are coming back easier. 

“You totally emailed the professor really petty responses!” Tony cries, laughing. 

“It wasn’t that petty,” Rhodey said, huffing. “He was an asshole anyway, he hated whenever we would come late because we wanted coffee, and your order was too complicated!” 

“It wasn’t that complicated!” 

“Oh I’m sorry, them having it written down behind the register for when you come in?” 

“Oh, like they didn’t have a description of you.” 

“Yeah, as your long-suffering companion,” Rhodey teases. 

“You’ve always been,” Tony says. “Because you’re the best.” 

Rhodey stops stirring the pot for a moment. 

“Rhodey? What is it?” 

“I...” 

Tony stands there, grinning. He’s nervously fidgeting, and it’s his move to say the vows. 

“You know, I wasn’t ever sure you’d be up to marrying someone like me,” Tony confesses. “Especially since I almost burned down our dorm room one time.” 

“Wasn’t just one time,” Rhodey teases. “But carry on.” 

“You loser,” Tony says. “Even now, interrupting my heartfelt moment.” 

There’s a ripple of laughter from the small crowd that’s gathered. Rhodey smiles at him, feels tears prick up around his eyes. 

“But I knew that I loved you ever since you would always buy my favorite ramen even though you hated it, and you were the one to get the pizza when I was sad. I knew I wanted the chance of seeing you every day, coming home to you at the end of the day. You’re home, Rhodey. You’re it. No one else could ever possibly hold a candle compared to you.” 

Rhodey startles, looking at Tony. 

“I...I remember. I remember!” 

“Remember what?” Tony asks cautiously. 

(He can’t be let down. Not again.) 

“You smashed cake in my face at our wedding!” Rhodey yells. “And we got married! We got married! Where the fuck is my ring?” 

Tony laughs, scooping Rhodey into a hug. 

“I can’t believe you remember.” 

“Well I was bound to at some point,” Rhodey says. “I can be smart, doofus.” 

“Don’t call me ‘doofus’ during an emotional outburst you absolute nimrod!” 

“I’ll call my husband whatever I want,” he teases, “although I still wanna know where my ring is.” 

“Come with me and get it,” Tony says. “I hid them in my room, just in case.” 

It’s all coming back, the steps they take, the way that Tony supports him as he moves slower. 

Iron Man, for one. War Machine the next. The dates they went on, the proposal. 

The rings are simple. They’re also not wedding rings. 

The class rings. 

Rhodey remembers getting them, remembers getting his initials and Tony’s on the inside, remembers how Tony made some “adjustments” after they received them. 

“You know that you got me,” Tony had told him. 

It slides on, and it feels right. Feels like something was missing. 

He looks up at Tony, smiling. 

“Show me the pictures, Tony.” 

- 

Pepper walks in to find Rhodey absolutely terrorizing Tony about the decor choices from the reception. 

“So I agreed with red and gold? I had no problem with it?” 

“Well, I did do some major convincing, so...” 

“What does that mean?!” 

"You’ll remember later and be sad,” Pepper says. “Or happy. But please don’t tell me if you remember it.” 

“You loved the color scheme,” Tony says. “Because you love me!” 

“Now I am doubting,” Rhodey declares. “I loved you enough to have those colors?” 

“You lost a bet, Boss,” Friday interjects. “That’s why there were those themes.” 

“Friday,” Tony whines. “Why snitch on your creator like this?” 

“I am not programmed to have loyalty, Sir.” 

Rhodey laughs, taking Tony’s hand in his. 

“Well, I guess I’ll still love you. Even if our wedding theme was weird.” 

“It wasn’t that weird!” 

-

It takes about another month before all of the memories are all back to normal, and in that time Rhodey learns (and relearns) a couple of things: 

1.) The best feeling in the world is waking up to Tony, who sleeps very lightly and also wacked Rhodey in the face a total of ten times. (That’s not a new thing, he remembers.) 

2.) He special-orders peppermint-flavored coffee creamer. 

3.) Tony was lying when he said that Rhodey’s new favorite movie was The Goonies. 

(He mostly forgave him for that one.)