#i saw that damn persona video going around again

[nutakuro]

Im sorry

[hwashotcheeto]

𝑽𝑰𝑷 𝑨𝒄𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒔

Part Two: Premium Access

Park Seonghwa X afab!gn!reader

Summary: You finally get railed backstage by your boyfriend while he's still in his stage persona.

WC: 2.3k

CW: Smut, filthy ass smut, fluffy aftercare, no gendered names are used on the reader

Smut warnings: Kissing, dirty talk, mild degradation, backstage sex, spit play, oral sex, (idol receiving) face fucking. (reader receiving), hair pulling (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), unprotected PIV sex, breast play (reader receiving) orgasms for both

Hwa uses names on reader (Slut, baby, jagi, fucktoy, gorgeous)

AN: Ever since I saw the pictures and videos from Towards the Light D-1, I wanted SO BAD to write a one shot about it (I'm so weak for this man, oh my fucking God-)

@shinestarhwaa made a fic about this already (this one) so please go read it, it's amazing 💜

Since you'd started dating Seonghwa, you'd wanted him to rail you while he was still in his stage persona.

And honestly, who wouldn't?

He turned into a creature of intensity, a force of nature.

A demon.

And yet, in all your time together, you'd never gotten the chance. Usually, Seonghwa and his members were wiped out after a show, so most times, it wouldn't happen regardless.

Aside from that, you nor the members could convince the staff to let you or anyone else backstage. It was an understandable obstacle, but still annoying.

Until tonight.

Somehow, the stars aligned, and you were finally given VIP access to see your boyfriend and his members backstage.

You were backstage for the entire performance, and fuck, you were floored.

The boys had kept everything secret from you, you didn't know anything about their performance. So seeing Seonghwa's dance was an unbelievable surprise.

And a pleasant one at that. One that had you soaked through to your pants.

The whole concert, you were of course, proud of your boyfriend and the other members, seeing them clearly enjoy being performers, and do it really fucking well.

But you were also incredibly fucking horny for your boyfriend.

The concert felt like it was years instead of hours. Years until your boyfriend came backstage, panting heavily, drenched in sweat, with that goddamn top, whatever it’s called.

Seonghwa had never looked hotter.

He pulled out his ear monitors, looking around the backstage area, until he finally found you by the dressing rooms. His eyes zeroed in on you, and shivers ran all over your body as he stalked up to you like a predator cornering his prey.

Seonghwa took you in his arms and kissed you, hard, pushing you against a door. You squeaked in surprise as you reached up to grab onto his arms, but by then, the door was opening, and you two were stumbling inside.

As soon as the door was slammed and locked shut, you were pressed back against it, Seonghwa's hands all over your body. Your hands went up to run all over his chest and stomach. This damn shirt they put him in left little to the imagination.

(Just how I like it)

You ran your hands up to push the short jacket off his shoulders, which he quickly tossed somewhere in the room, and then he pinned your hands against the door above your head.

“Quit moving,” he commanded against your lips, pressing his body up against yours. A whimper leaves your lips before he kisses you again, forcing his tongue in and down your throat.

You squirmed in his grip as you pressed your thighs together. Seonghwa noticed it and groaned as he pulled back. “You don't wanna listen tonight?”

“Hwa, I'm soaked, I-” You tried to protest, but he forced your mouth open, pushing his thumb past your lips and holding your tongue down, spitting down your throat, and forcing your mouth closed after.

“That's not what I asked,” he said lowly, his lips hovering over yours. “Now swallow.”

You were almost embarrassed at how your heart fluttered as you swallowed.

Seonghwa pulled you away from the door and forced you onto your knees as he sat down on the couch. You watched as he wiggled his pants down to his thighs to free his painfully hard cock from the tight confines. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, and you moved closer between his spread legs.

“So eager to have my cock, baby?” Seonghwa asked, slowly pumping himself a few times. “Is that what you thought about while watching me? That you wanted me inside you?”

You nodded enthusiastically with a whimper, shifting around again, trying to relieve some of the pressure between your thighs. Seonghwa couldn't help but smirk as he took his other hand and pulled you close.

“Get to work then.”

You didn't need to be told twice.

You leaned forward and took the first half of him into your mouth, reaching up to pump the half that wasn't. You watched as Seonghwa rolled his eyes back and groaned at the contact, gripping onto your hair. He guided you up and down, having no patience (or time) to go slow today.

“You can take it,” he muttered. “Good sluts can take this. You wanna be good, don't you?”

You nodded and hummed around him, moving your head faster and sucking harder. You pressed your tongue against him and he shivered under you, biting his lip, stifling the groans that were growing more whiny.

What you didn't know is that Seonghwa was thinking about this during the entire performance.

Especially during his solo dance with the chair. Thinking about fucking up into your mouth, imagining how you’d gag when he did, seeing the spit and cum dribble down your chin, the tears on your cheeks.

You choked as he did just as Seonghwa imagined, and your hands flew up to cling onto his thighs. He looked down and smirked, seeing exactly what he wanted to see.

“That’s it, there we go,” he groaned, gripping onto your hair with both hands, shallowly fucking your throat. You kept your head still as he did, making yourself breathe through your nose instead.

Seonghwa slowly worked up to moving his hips faster, pushing deeper, fucking into your throat with reckless abandon. Tears freely fell from your eyes with every choke and gag, your whole neck covered in the mess that spilled down. Seonghwa kept his eyes trained on you, trying to keep quiet.

You were too, and not just because you were choking on his cock.

You were thoroughly soaked, all the way through, and it was beginning to grow painful. You slipped your hand inside your pants to rub your clit, moaning at the relief. But Seonghwa heard it.

He yanked you off his cock and sat up to look at you, and you froze with your hand still down your pants. Seonghwa couldn’t help but smirk.

“Getting yourself off while you choke on my cock? You’re filthy today, jagi.”

He pulled you off the floor and onto his lap, smashing his lips onto yours while his hands fumbled to get your pants and underwear off. You helped him get them off, and he flung them both somewhere in the room, joining his discarded jacket on the floor.

Before they even hit the floor. Seonghwa was running his fingers along your cunt, teasing your entrance. “Oh, look at you,” he murmured against your lips. “You’re fucking soaked. I really did that to you?” He couldn’t help but smirk, his tongue poking out from between his teeth,

“Yes, Hwa, you do. You always do.”

“No, this is more than usual.” He pushed two fingers inside and your body lit up in fire. “I bet you fuck yourself at home when you watch me perform if you’re this wet for me when I’m on stage. Do you, little slut?”

He pumped his fingers inside you with a brutal speed, which was easy with how much slick was pouring out of you. “Do you? Or did you not hear me because you’re already fucked out?”

“I do!” You cried out as he curled his fingers into your spot. “I do, Hwa, you’re so fucking hot!”

“I know I am, jagi.”

Seonghwa pulled his hand away and leaned back, holding his cock up for you. You didn’t need him to tell you what to do.

“Come o-” He cut off with a choke, throwing his head back as you slowly sunk down onto him. He didn’t pick his head back up until you were flush against his lap, making some of his hair fall over his half closed eyes.

“So eager,” he breathed, gripping onto your hips. “Go on then, fuck me like you want to so badly.”

And that’s exactly what you ended up doing.

You gripped onto his shoulders and fucked him like you never had before. The fire in your bones burned hotter than it ever had, dropping down on him hard enough that people outside undoubtedly could hear the sinful noises you made.

Seonghwa rolled his eyes back again, then smiled as he closed his eyes, melting back into the couch. “Fuck, that’s good. Keep it up, jagi.” His fingers dug into your hips, seemingly trying to pull you down even harder. You whimpered as you struggled to fuck him harder despite the burning feeling creeping into your thighs.

The effort you were putting in was already making you tremble. But hearing Seonghwa let out all those groans, watching him smile and bite his lip, his tongue peeking out every now and again, it motivated you to keep going.

It also made you clench down on him.

Seonghwa gasped when he felt it. “God, what are you thinking about, clenching like that?” He looked up at you and you whimpered again, all words leaving you. He knew what he did to you, and he loved it. “Come on, tell me.”

He pulled you into his chest and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, holding you tight against him while he leaned back on the couch and spread his legs to fuck into you instead.

“Tell me what’s in your filthy little brain,” he whispered, his lips pressed up against your ear.

But you couldn’t form words with how he was pounding into you. Hell, you could hardly form a thought. All that came out was whiny babbles and cries as you clung onto him, your nails digging into his skin. You felt Seonghwa shiver as you did.

“Such a good baby,” he muttered. “So good taking my cock, all in your pretty hole, being my good little fucktoy.”

His words made you clench tighter and cry out louder, tears forming in your eyes. Seonghwa choked and whined. His resolve was crumbling, you were breaking him down.

Seonghwa suddenly flipped you and put you down on your back, spreading your legs wide, pushing them back up to your chest before he went back to fucking you. He was as deep as he possibly could be, hitting the sweet spot inside you every time he went back in.

“That’s it, jagi, take it all,” he muttered, starting to ramble, his words slurring together. He was panting now, his pupils blown out, all composure he had thrown out the damn window. His tongue rolled out of his mouth, and the sight alone nearly made you come right then.

Seonghwa slipped his hands under your shirt and ripped it off, stripping you down until you were bare, then dove down to your chest and ran his tongue over your skin. You cried out again as his mouth wrapped around one nipple and his hand came up to play with the other.

You clenched down tighter, nearly sobbing at this point. When you dared to look down, you squeaked. He looked up at you as he ravished your chest, his eyes half closed, his tongue sliding all over before his mouth closed around the nub again. All the whines and breathy moans he let out were only bringing you closer and closer.

Your climax was right there, so close, you just needed a little bit of a push. Seonghwa knew what it was, he was right there with you.

He reached down with his free hand and rubbed your clit. It was only seconds from there that you came all over him, screaming his name, sobbing, clinging onto his hair like you’d fall out of existence if you did.

Seonghwa came right after you did, pulling back from your chest to let out the prettiest, whiniest moans as he rolled his eyes back, pumping you full of his release, riding it out as he chanted your name.

You both sat panting for a while before Seonghwa finally pulled out of you. He reached out and held your cheek, wiping away the remaining tears. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No, not at all,” you mumbled, your brain still mush. Seonghwa smiled, sharing the same sentiment. His brain was fried after today.

He helped you sit up, and you both cleaned up as best you could before you got redressed.

After you did, Seonghwa pulled you into his arms and hugged you tight. You laid your head on his chest, and his heart was still pounding loudly against his ribs. You smiled as you nuzzled into his skin, squeezing him tight.

“I wish we could do that more often,” you said softly. Seonghwa laughed and shook his head.

“This took everything out of me, I feel like I’m gonna pass out right here.”

“Then let me take care of it next time.” You looked up at him, and he looked down at you, his eyes still doubtful. “I don’t mind. I like it when you’re the bottom anyway.” His cheeks turned red as he looked away, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“I mean, maybe, I don’t-”

Hongjoong threw the door open at that point, glaring at both of you. Your heart stopped dead in your chest as you clung onto Seonghwa.

“Seriously?! This is why we can’t have people backstage!” Hongjoong threw up his hands and tilted his head back, his tone exasperated. “Seonghwa, get to your dressing room, we’ve been waiting for you!”

“Okay okay, fine, breathe, Hongjoong.” Seonghwa pulled away from you, but leaned back to hold your cheek and press a sweet kiss to your lips. It was over far too soon, but he smiled at you as he pulled away. “I’ll see you later, gorgeous.”

As much as you hated watching him walk away with Hongjoong, you knew you’d be back in his arms tonight. And you could have your sexy, talented, adorable, sweet demon boyfriend all to yourself.

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

[soyeonsbabygirl]

Damn.

-

Seulgi had decided to go with Yeri to the TWICE dorms. They went mainly cause she knew the maknae wanted to see Nayeon and Chaeyoung but also because Seulgi was curious about a specific member.

She remembers when they first met at the SM building. The girl was amazing in SM rookies for her Vocals as well as her rap skills. She was close with Joy as well. A few months later before Seulgi could find out more about her she disappeared.

Well not disappeared but she left SM, it wasn’t until Joy had got her into watching the survival show SIXTEEN did she see her again. It was like she did a full 180 of how she looked. She was barely recognizable.

Now here she was, sitting in the living room, as her youngest member seemed to be in a funny conversation with Chaeyoung. Seulgi was quiet as she listened.

“Hey Chae. Sooyoung wanted me to ask you something.” A voice said making Seulgi look up.

Damn.

It was her. The girl Joy was best friends with, the girl who used to be in SM, the girl whose voice was like honey and had a raspy voice when she rapped. The girl who had the power to make everyone look at her with just the way she walks, the girl who looked way different from SIXTEEN. Almost as if she went through another change.

Damn.

That was all Seulgi could think. Her hair was currently a ginger blonde, which was different from her usual black hair. It wasn’t long but it also wasn’t too short, stopping right at her chest highlighting her gorgeous features. The way her body looked made Seulgi see stars, she looked different than the girl who was in the TT music video.

Her voice deeper than Seulgi had thought, raspy almost. She noticed a small tattoo that was on her stomach. It looked to be a small spider? Seulgi couldn’t tell but she knew wanted to run her fingers down her waist pulling her closer to her.

She didn’t even notice that it was just her and the girl in the living room now. She snapped out of it when the girl spoke again. “Seulgi right? I remember you. Joy’s other member.” Seulgi ran her tongue over her teeth as she admired her from up close. She wore a red crop top that looked to have who she thinks was spider man on it? Paired with black sweatpants. Seulgi nodded as she remembered the question she had asked. “I liked how you looked in your last music video. You guys did good.” She seemed to be so relaxed around Seulgi as if they’ve known each other for years.

Damn.

Seulgi rested her hand on the girls thigh making the girl look down and then back up at Seulgi. “You look different from when I last saw you. Back when you were in SM rookies…you caught my attention more than everyone.” She leaned closer making the girl blush slightly as she looked at her. The girl brushed her fingers over Seulgi’s cheek almost making Seulgi’s confident persona falter. Almost.

“I know. Tell me…..how long have you thought about me?” The girl moves closer to Seulgi’s lips to where Seulgi could feel her breath on them. Seulgi bit her lip slightly as she glanced from her eyes to her lips. “A lot…mainly after you went on SIXTEEN and the Ooh Ah music video…you’re Korean is amazing despite you living in China for so long.” the girl smiled as she almost closed the distance between them, she got up before they even got a chance to kiss. “Ask Joy for my number…you’re interesting.”

Damn.

Before Seulgi could respond, the girl left the room leaving Seulgi there a bit dumbfounded. Yeri came back in this time with Nayeon, Jihyo, and Chaeyoung. Seulgi was quiet as she listen to the 3 girls conversation. She made sure to get the girls name from Jihyo before she left. “That’s just Jia! Or if you wanna use her real name Jiyoung.”

Jiyoung a pretty name for an even more gorgeous girl and the stage name Jia sounded innocent almost as if to mask the girls flirty nature.

When she got back to the dorm she got Jia’s number from Joy and texted her.

“Meet up with me after my photoshoot tomorrow?”

She stared at her phone desperate for a response as she saw the 3 bubbles indicating she was typing.

“Sure.”

Seulgi couldn’t help but smile to herself.

Damn.

Who knew that Jia the 10th member of TWICE would be this interesting.

-

Merry Christmas! Hope you guys enjoy this as my gift to yall💋

[deathofpeaceofmiiind]

high infidelity | twelve

The rest of the world was black and white, but we were in screaming colour *Noah’s POV* I woke up the next morning pretty early, I had a slight headache from all the beers I had last night but it was manageable. Ellie was still sleeping but I couldn’t help but admire her before I got up. Yesterday was the perfect day and I wondered how we’d ever top it, but I’m sure Ellie had some ideas up her sleeve. She gave me a sense of adventure and excitement I haven’t had for something outside of my music in so long. She was such a breath of fresh air. After I realized I had been staring at her for ten minutes zoning in and out I decided to get dressed and go find us some coffee. I walked outside and it was already so busy out, but I wasn’t that surprised considering I’m used to LA. I had my AirPods in listening to a podcast when my phone rang, it was Matt FaceTiming me.

“Hey lover boy.” Matt serenades me as I answer. I looked down at my phone and he was sitting on our tour bus, not even looking at his phone and I could hear Call of Duty being played in the background, quite loudly too. “Thanks for dropping a bomb on us and ghosting.” “What bomb?” I chuckled as I saw a Starbucks down the road. I could’ve easily googled what was around me but I wanted to explore this city. Vancouver was really growing on me… “That photo of you and El!” He yells at me before dying in his game. I never had the heart to tell him he was terrible at video games, but I feel like someone needs to tell him before he gives himself a stroke. “Sorry about that, we got…busy” I replied as I licked my lips, getting flashbacks of what happened last night and how I wanted her moans saved as a voice note.  “You little slut.” “Shut up.” I felt myself blush. Ellie and I never slept together last night but after I had my fun with her, we took a small break and ended up falling asleep. Not to stroke my own ego, but I was pretty damn proud of myself. I’ve never had a girl react to my touch so authentically before, most of them would put on a show, but not her. “Dude, I think I’m falling in love with her.” “Wait are you serious?” Matts eyes darted to the screen, not caring that his game was still on. To be honest, I don’t think it would make a difference if he played or stood still. “Yeah” I replied softly. I pulled into an alleyway so I could finish talking to him before I went inside. “I don’t know man. This girl just sees right through my persona and sees me for who I really am. I’ve never experienced this much emotion over a girl before and it’s weird.” “Wow I didn’t know you were down that bad man.” Matt said as his eyes darted back and forth. He cursed under his breath as his controller vibrated even more and he threw it onto the couch, giving me his undivided attention. “I don’t blame you though, she’s so hot.” “Dude she’s so hot I would commit any crime she told me to do.” I laughed, there was no denying what a fucking babe she was. Every time I think about that classic red lip she wore the first night, I wanted her to leave it smeared on other parts of me besides my face. “She could run me over with her car and I’d say thanks.” “I’m starting to think you like her or something.” I joked as Matt’s face went bright red. “Nah man, she’s all yours.” He half laughed as he reached over to grab his controller. “Just remember she’s going through a lot so don’t scare her off, she’s gonna need your support. I’d hate to see you fuck this up again.” “I’ll try my best” I partially lied cause all I wanted to do was profess my love to her at our next show but that would make her run for sure. “It seems like we’re on the same page right now but I know she needs to do what’s best for her and her son.” “Wait…She’s a MILF?” “Goodbye Matthew.” I chuckled as I hung up the call. It amazes me how Matt can go from being serious to a high school kid in a flash. I found myself circling back to some of his comments about Ellie but I shrugged it off. I’m sure he was just joking.

[laketaj24]

Serotonin II

Author’s Note: Here it is! I am taking requests, and the taglist is open, drop your name under this fic or on this list if you are interested! This does have a prior part but can be read as a standalone.

Pairing: Colson Baker x Reader

Warning: Smut, breeding kink

Inspo Song: Bad Things

Part I

My MASTERLIST

Colson: Busy?

Y/N: Why would I be busy?

Colson: For sure ain’t been answering my texts 🥱

Y/N: You need something, Col?

Colson: You know you only call me Col when you’re half asleep or whimpering my name when you about to cum. Let me come over.

Tongue-tied, his messages left you baffled. They were a smooth variation of sexting mixed with pleading. Every message included a very Colson apology but a rebuttal that followed and reminded you why you couldn’t fall back in the same routine with him. It was easy to picture yourself back with him, nestled against his lean frame - listening to his voice as it rumbled against his chest as he rambled on. You saw it clear as day, but the truth of the matter was he didn’t do what you required to have you back in his life. Fucking you in the bathroom of some club like a whore, giving your body a fix, but your heart and mind still felt that hesitation when it came to Mr. Baker.

“Are you listening?” Dana asked, holding up the soy powder milk for your nephew.

“I heard you clear as day.”

“You sure you didn’t just daydream the entire I talked about not feeding Jaylen after seven?” Dana placed the soy milk on the table and glanced down at her newborn. “If you’re not up to it, I can stay. I hate going out of town so soon after having him.” She tapped her soon on the back a few times and exhaled.

“We will be fine.”

“You say this, but I don’t believe you.”

“Why?”

“You’re head has been shot ever since you broke up with the delinquent.” She rolled her eyes. “And what pisses me off is Tyla loves him!” She whispered and turned her attention to the seven-year-old parked in front of the tv. “I mean worships him.”

“I know. Colson is good with kids.”

“Because he’s childish.” She added. “He’s basically a six variant of one.”

“You can’t say one thing nice?”

“His music isn’t shitty,” Dana added. “I will be back at eight for the both of them, and I swear not to do this again, just my boss needs me, and their dad is busy.” She lied. “So- I love you, sis. Call Eric!” Dana kissed your cheek and sprinted out the door without another word.

Eric, you hadn’t seen him since you left the club a week ago, and you barely responded to his texts. The ride home was awkward; the entire time, he talked about how much he enjoyed the night. And the only thing you could think about was getting bent over in the bathroom by your ex. Good date.

Auntie duty had started. Diapers, Tiktok, YouTube, and some weird pig cartoon lay ahead of you for the next nine hours. Jaylen slept peacefully in his playpen, unbothered by his mother's lack while Tyla consumed her tv.

Colson: I got food open the door.

Y/N: What door?

Colson: Your apartment door. It’s Chipotle.

Fuck, you were hungry.

Y/N: Leave the food on the porch.

Colson: I’m not a god damn door dash.

The abrupt knocking startled Jaylen, soo you took him in your arms and walked to the door, “Stay in the living room Tyla.”

“K,” She answered, not even looking up from her phone.

You opened the door revealing Colson in his pink hoodie and gray joggers. He held bags of food in his hand and garnished a big smile on his face, “You look good with a baby.”

“Why are you here?”

“You wouldn’t come to see me or invite me over, so invited myself over. Can I come in?”

“No.” Jaylen stirred in your arms, his plump little legs kicked, and you sighed. “I am busy today. That’s why I didn’t invite you over. I have to keep my nieces and nephews, and every time you are over here, you either curse too much or we end up fucking.”

“Watch your mouth.” He teased.

“How were you texting with all that in your hands?” You stared at him.

“You know I got talented hands.”

“Colson!”

Why? You grimaced inwardly before looking at your overly excited niece, she loved Colson, and you hated to admit, he might be an asshole sometimes, but he loved kids. He was a wonder with them. You slapped your face, disappointed there was not a way to hide the massive man at your door. “He can’t stay.” You answered before the question left your lips.

“Why? Please!” Tyla pouted her pink lips and threw her arms up in defeat. “We never see him anymore.”

“That’s your aunt’s fault,” Colson added fuel to the fire. “I won’t stay long.” He pushed through, entering your apartment to greet Tyla with a hug at her level and a sly wink to you. Kids were the way to your heart – and his, but he would not win you over with this bullshit today. Not at all. “You hungry, Tyla?”

“Yeah, ten minutes, and you’re out.”

“Damn.”

“Tiktok?’ she held up her phone and the ring light from her purple book bag. “Please.”

“Word, what are we learning?” He raised his brows to you and proceeded to make himself comfortable on the couch; she was ecstatic, immediately standing to do a dance and drag you over to learn it too. Tiktok had become the bane of your existence, but for Tyla and her half a million followers, she was golden.

One hour later and you were tired, you’d perfected the dance, and Colson had convinced her to let him skip the dancing and just be—it was all he had to do though, she’d get one million views just because of who he was, and now everyone would know you were with him. Your heart dropped a little thinking about the exposure while she edited the video next to both of you.

“Why is Uncle Colson never around?” Tyla never looked up from her phone; she just continued her mission of posting that sixty-second video and ruining your life.

“He’s not your uncle.” You corrected.

“That’s your aunt’s fault too.” He added.

“Don’t start with me.” The harsh whisper came out as a warning, waking baby Jaylen from his nap and making Colson chuckle in amusement.

“I like him; I want him in the family.”

“I want a million dollars.”

“I can give you that.” He said.

“And a loyal boyfriend who doesn’t text insta-sluts in his spare time.”

“Don’t use sluts in front of her damn; your mouth is outrageous Y/N.”

The narrowing of your eyes made him burst into laughter again. He was damn good at annoying you like he had it mastered.

The day passed quickly with him making eyes at you, caring for Jaylen while she styled Colson’s hair in four ponytails atop his head, garnished with bows, and she even attempted to give him edges. He didn’t care; as long as she was happy, he was good.

“You look a mess.”

“It’s cool.” Colson snapped a picture. “Been waiting forever to see if ponytail was for me or not; it’s a no.” He sat back on the couch while Tyla disappeared to your room for god knows what else. “You look good with babies, you know?”

“You’ve said that.”

“I meant it; you’re good with them too.” He sighed. “I thought about kids with us, like every damn day.”

“Funny.” You shrugged, and she appeared with your bright pink polish. “What’re you doing, Tyla?”

“Painting his nails.” She plopped down in front of him, and without hesitation, he held his hand out for her. “We did blue last time.”

“Yep.” He exhaled. “Don’t you want this?”

He didn’t have to elaborate; you knew what he was talking about, but a family was the last thing from your mind, no matter how perfect the scenario looked right now. “Do you?”

Colson smacked his lips. “We can talk later.”

“You leaving when they do.” You reiterated.

The door opened thirty minutes later without a knock or doorbell; Dana never announced herself. “I see he found his way back in.” Her mouth dropped as soon as her eyes met him. “Tyla just had her way today, didn’t she.” She laughed. “Oh god, she gave this man braids.”

“Your daughter is talented.” He laughed. “Might be a new look.”

“Ridiculous.” She held her laughter. “Ty, get up and come on, love; we have a long drive.” She took Jaylen from your chest and gave you a look. “How long is he staying?”

“Not long, sis, drive safe.”

“I will. Colson, you leave in ten minutes, or I’m sending our brother over.” She pointed to him.

“I’m not scared of Michael; send him.” Why did his arrogance only make you want him more? He looked to Dana, who, like him, was not bothered.

“I hate him.” She mumbled as she left. “I just fucking hate him.”

“It’s mutual!” Colson laughed as the door shut. “You’re gonna stay over there the whole time?”

“Aint no reason for me to be over there for real.” You thought of three reasons to stay where you were, the drop in his voice, the tension in this room that could be cut with a knife, and when he was alone with you, your willpower was nonexistent. “You have five minutes.”

“We aren’t going to talk about this, are we? You like being evasive and shit? That you’re new persona?”

“I have no new persona. This is me not playing into all the bullshit you bring when you’re with me. This is a wall.”

“I’m about to knock that wall over.” He smirked.

“Stay on your couch.” You warned.

Colson held his hands up, acting defenseless, “I wasn’t moving from this spot.”

“My sister hates you, you know that? She literally said that I would be better off leaving Cali before staying here with your toxic ass.” You found yourself pointing at him and wanting to knock that smile from his face. Colson liked to see you get feisty with him; he called that foreplay, and here you were dancing to the beat of his drum, pissed.

“How am I toxic? I stopped all that shit for you, every ounce of it.”

“Stop lying.”

Colson grinned at you, unwavering in his position and impressed that you were persistent in yours; your usual fights lasted about one day. You’d take him back, and everything went back to how it was before, but that changed nothing; you wanted him to change. “I am not lying to you. Come here.”

You walked over to him, taking his hand and allowing him to pull you down in his lap. Facing him, you admired all the little cuts he’d earned over the years in senseless fights or accidents. Your fingers traced over them before you cupped his face. What the fuck were you doing? Why were the two of you akin to magnets? Drawing one another in half of the time and then at the flip of a side hating one another? You placed your lips on him, parting his lips with your tongue and then flicking playfully over his teeth before he caught your bottom lip with his teeth and tugged. The slight pressure made you moan against him. He cradled your neck with one hand, not allowing you to escape him. Colson deepened the kiss, adding pressure and taking what little breath you had away. “I fucking miss you, Y/N.” He rasped.

"Don't talk.”You murmured back.

Colson didn’t listen; he never listened.  “You were good with them today.”

You growled, grinding your hips on him. “Shut up, Colson.”

“I want to talk to you, I want you back Y/N, shit. Like I am trying, I canceled recording sessions, appearances, and other shit all this month so we can figure this out. I don’t want to-,”

You stopped him from talking, gripping his cock through the sweats with one hand and kissing him to shut up.

“Stop.” In one fluid motion, your hands were by your side, and your eyes were on his, “We’re talking; I was not fucking other women. But I was entertaining them, and it’s no excuse. I know you’re hurt; I’m sorry. Like real talk, no joke – I apologize.”

“How do I know it won’t happen again?’

“I'll delete all this shit for you,” He admitted. “Fuck a platform.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“I’m dead ass right now. Fuck it all. I just want you.”

“If it happens again, I am never taking you back, ever.”

“It won’t.” He whispered, loosening the grip on your hands.

You took advantage of the notion, moving your hand down to his cock, rubbing the hilt through his sweats again.

“Nah,” He gripped your hair, pulling you back, so your eyes met him. “It’s my turn now.” He pushed aside your shorts in seconds, and his fingers plunged into your pussy, curling for a moment and then spinning out of you. He placed his fingers on your lips, “Open up.” You didn’t hesitate to take his fingers, licking your own juices from them, and he tapped your face sending a slight pleasurable sting. “How you taste?”

“Ready.” You pulled him from the sweats feeling him jump at your cool hands, and stood up, wriggling out of the shorts before hovering back over him again.

Colson playfully tosses you on your couch, draping one leg to the ground. “Let me taste.” He whispered as he descended between your legs. Colson’s fingers brushed your swollen clit, before his lips latched on, sucking. You bowed from the couch, the moans and scratched to his shoulders done nothing but encourage. He lapped up your juices before diving his tongue into you and swirling around. You gasped, surprised and pleased as he worked.

“Col-“ You gripped his shoulders, lifting yourself from laying down, and he took full advantage, pulling you onto his face and fucking you with his tongue. Your body coiled, the jolts of pleasure popped around your body, and then you came. The white-hot energy surged through your body, and you panted, shaking, almost collapsing back on the couch. He caught you peppering the wet kisses from your pussy to your mouth.

“You good?”

“Better than.” You whispered, breathing heavily. “ Shit.”

“We’re not done.” Of course, you weren’t; his cock throbbed against his leg, waiting to ruin your life, and here you were still out of breath. Colson gently pulled you from the couch, sitting you in his lap, and he started once again with the kisses. You could taste yourself on his lips, and for some reason, that just made you wetter for him. He took advantage of stroking himself before he lowered you down on him. You took every inch, mouth slightly open and hair swinging the entire time. You pressed your breast against his chest, savoring the warm feeling of his cock inside of you, and then you started moving on him. Your muscles clenched around, gripping him with each stroke. Your clit rubbed against his pelvic bone; you took that added pleasure in stride biting your lip as it intensified every time your skin met.

Colson’s eyes were hooked on you, his fingers dug in your ass, guiding you up and down on his cock, urging you to keep going, and there was no way in hell you were going to stop. You could feel it building once again, this time bigger. “Hold it.” He whispered, knowing you were about once more. “Not yet.”

“Ah,” Impatience grew over you; you slowed your ride, winding your hips slowly, your eyes closed as you took over, fucking up into you, guiding your body to take more. “I can’t.” You whined as you fought to hold the orgasm back.

“Yeah, you can.” He slammed into you harder, knocking the breath from you, your toes curled, and you screamed as you shook against him. “I wanna feel that pussy shake around me when I cum; hold it.” He slapped your clit with three fingers, and your breath hitched. “Hold it.” His hand travels up your shirt to your bare stomach, and he kisses you once more. “Y/N.”  His hips rocked slowly, but then he started to fuck you quicker, the tip of his dick hitting your g-spot each time. You were a screaming mess, biting down on his shoulder. That done the trick he spasms against you growling. His warm cum triggered you. You came, sinking down and taking all of it. “Shit, you cheated.”

“You would’ve lasted forever.” You smiled lazily.

“Is that a complaint or a compliment?”

“Both.”

You wince, sliding off him, “right.” He rolled his eyes. “Now we gotta eat reheated Chipotle.” he stood up, fixing his pants. “Can I stay?”

“I guess.” You pulled the blanket over you, snuggling into your favorite place on the couch. He heads into the kitchen, and you reach for your phone, wondering what threat your sister had for you.

Meg: Are you still coming tonight?

This was not your phone; of course, it wasn’t. You unlocked the phone, clicking her name to look at the messages. But there is only red as Colson makes his way back into the living room. You throw the phone across the room, hitting the wall, and he stares at you. “What the fuck?”

“Take you and that Chipotle and get out.”

“Damn, what the Chipotle do?”

  A/N: One more part coming. I’ll drop it next week, I think! Thank yall for reading! Let me know what you think!!

Taglist: @taytayize123​ @ctrlszn @supernaturalvikingwhore @jae-writes-fanfiction @bigsisbria @placeoffreedom @kyla-queen @missdforever @gottatoxicattitude @bang-kim-bap @msreshel @blowmymbackout @titty-teetee @strawberry-skyes @mauvecherie @savageiz @bang-kim-bap @luci-her @littlelovebug98 @babyboy-cody @hellshedevil @daddyavesxx @crystalbaby12 @jeonsblackgf

commenters from serotnin who might be interested: @mgkmerchstyles @mayaslifeinabox

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

In Times Past

Character: Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader

Summary: Bruce Wayne’s life doesn’t exist beyond the fake storylines he performs for the media and citizens of Gotham. Maybe the only person that can change that is someone who knew him before Batman ever even existed. 

Word Count: 8,200+ [One Shot]

Warnings: Violence, mentions of sexual harrassment

A/N: As I teased before, this was inspired by this scene from Batman Begins. 

Bruce could sense Alfred’s tension when he walked into the kitchen that morning. The man was not one to hold back his thoughts and feelings. It was both a blessing and a curse. But Bruce sensed it was the latter today.

Before Bruce could even get a sip of coffee in, Alfred tossed the Sunday newspaper in front of him.

On the front page was a photo of Batman, far too high of a resolution for Bruce’s liking. ‘BATMAN: SAVIOR OR MENACE?’ the headline read.

“A little too close for comfort, don’t you think?” Alfred asked with a hint of sass.

However, Bruce controlled his reaction.

“Not the first time I’ve been photographed, Alfred.”

“You’re dancing with the devil, Master Wayne.”

“So, what? You want me to lay down the cape because everyone in America has the ability to take a photo on their cellphone?”

“Of course not,” Alfred retorted. Though Alfred secretly wished every day that Bruce would say goodbye to the Batman. “I just thought perhaps you should be putting a bit more effort into Bruce Wayne’s life if you really want to throw Gotham off your trail.”

Then he tossed another newspaper. This one of Bruce Wayne, the other mask he wore.

‘Bruce Wayne Lights Up the Room at Charity Ball.’

Alfred points to the date…it was 9 months ago. And it was unfortunately the last time Bruce Wayne was in the press.

“You better start creating alibis, Master Wayne, or the dark web will start to putting two and two together…”

Bruce sighed. He knew Alfred was right. But he hated all that went with what he had to do. He’d rather face off with Gotham’s deadliest criminals than go galavanting around the city as the self-absorbed and reckless playboy persona that he’d created.

“There is a birthday party for Eaton Elliot next weekend. Naturally, being old family friends, you received an invitation,” Alfred explained. “Plenty of press will be there to note your attendance. Seems rather convenient."

Bruce recognized the name. It was the older brother of Thomas Elliot, a childhood friend that he slightly lost touch with. He’d see him or his parents at various events, and things were always cordial.

But it didn’t really matter how absent or quiet Bruce was when it came to maintaining such relationships. Everyone forgave such behavior when it came to saving face with the only living member of the Wayne family. Bruce could spit in the faces of Gotham’s elite and they’d probably thank him for it.

“Black tie affair, as always,” Alfred added as he slipped the invitation to Bruce. “Perhaps you could bring a date…”

Bruce glared up at the butler. “Dates make it harder to make a quick and quiet exit, Alfred.”

“Well, maybe that’s the point, Master Wayne.”

————

Just like he was on patrol or working on an op, Bruce had prepared for every single scenario. He made a plan that would be the most effective in the shortest amount of time. He didn’t want to torture himself any longer than absolutely necessary.

When Alfred asked him again if he was planning on bringing a date, Bruce had only replied with a mischievous smirk.

Because he walked in with a girl on each arm.

It wasn’t the classy or gentlemanly thing to do. And that was exactly the point.

Conversations paused, attention was turned, and flashes went off.

Bruce Wayne made his entrance.

He carefully fell into the groove of being the spoiled brat everyone had painted him out to be. It had been awhile since he played the part, but Bruce always found it easy when he was surrounded by these kinds of people.

Bruce made sure to slightly slur his words. He would get too handsy with his dates. He would rudely interrupt people to share his own useless opinion on whatever topic was leading the conversation. He never looked waitstaff in the eye.

But now it was time for the finale.

Bruce whispered a certain suggestion into the ears of his dates.

They shared a look that proved they were both game.

The three of them stumbled into a bathroom – one out in the open that most of the guests would be steered toward.

The kissing began and clothes were quickly shifted.

There was a split moment when Bruce wondered what this would feel like for a man who actually wanted to be in this situation.

The two woman managed unbuckle his belt, the clanking metal echoing in the all-tile bathroom.

But just as they unbuttoned and then unzipped his pants, Bruce’s cellphone rang loudly.

Right on cue.

“Ladies, ladies, ladies,” Bruce whined. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” his words stumbled out. “But I just have to take this call.”

“Aww. Brucie. You’re no fun,” one of the women fussed.

But Bruce gave off enough dominate energy that they didn’t try to fight him on it.

Hair disheveled, mouth swollen and pink, lipstick stains on his skin and his pants and belt barely put back together, Bruce stumbled out of the bathroom first.

The two women didn’t bother to stay back and spread out their exits, making it very clear what had just happened – or what it looked like just happened.

It didn’t matter that Bruce didn’t actually have sex with them, every woman in Gotham wanted to say they’d shared a bed with Bruce Wayne. His two dates would lie to save face and get street cred. Bruce hated that he knew that, that it was guaranteed.

Dozens of people, who were socializing near the bathroom, stopped what they were doing and watched with judgmental looks. Some men looked jealous. Some women looked disgusted and eyed the two women up and down.

Then there was the flash of a camera.

Bingo.

Bruce wouldn’t have to linger much longer now.  

He played up being somewhat embarrassed.

But just as he put his phone to his ear to take the fake call that Alfred dialed, he saw the last person he expected.

It caused him to do a double take and freeze. 

His focus fell for a moment as they made eye contact.

Why did she have to be here?

Why did she have to be one of his witnesses?

Why did it hurt so much to see how she looked at him as if he were a stranger?

And why did she have to look so god damn beautiful?

Y/F/N Y/L/N.

The Y/L/N family were another one of Gotham’s elite – well, they used to be.

Y/N’s father was once worth billions. But being born into wealth didn’t guarantee intelligence or the skills to properly run the family business. When Bruce and Y/N were in high school, Y/N’s father filed for bankruptcy and confessed that the family was about to lose everything. With the announcement, the press also exposed Mr. Y/L/N’s many lustful affairs.

What came next was a messy and brutal divorce that the media ate up.  

Out of spite, Y/N’s mother remarried her ex-husband’s biggest competitor, maintaining her status and wealth, and making sure she still came out on top. It was the greatest revenge and even Y/N had to give her mother credit for the ingenuity of it all.

Bruce remembered how terrible it all was for Y/N, who was used as a pawn in her parents war against each other.

Having had enough of it, Y/N fled Gotham and chose to live with her eccentric great aunt in London and finished her last year of high school there.

But Y/N didn’t run away from Bruce. They emailed, texted, video chatted, called.

They had always been good friends.

The elites of Gotham always suspected the two would get married. But both Bruce and Y/N pretended to ignore such whisperings.

But when Bruce shifted his life, when he changed his life’s purpose, when he started becoming a vigilante…he stopped taking Y/N’s calls and he stopped returning them.

He told himself it was better that way. He couldn’t handle any distractions. Batman didn’t have time for personal relationships, so neither did Bruce Wayne. But more importantly, Y/N deserved someone who would prioritize her – even just as a friend.

Now Bruce needed to get actually drunk.

Putting the phone back to his ear, he broke eye contact and made a beeline for one of the bars. 

“Did you forget to tell me about the guest list, Alfred?” Bruce muttered evenly to the phone, knowing that Alfred would easily be able to hear his anger and irritation.

“How was I to know who RSVPed yes or no…” Alfred bit back. But he knew exactly who Bruce was looking at.

Bruce frowned as he ended the call abruptly and asked for a whiskey.

“I don’t know, man. She’s not my type,” a man said to his friend.

The two of them were just a foot or two away from Bruce.

“What do you mean ‘not your type’? She’s fucking hot.”

“Don’t get me wrong, she’s beautiful. But she’s so stiff and uptight. Look, she’s had a resting bitch face all night.”

Bruce’s grip on his face tightened as he easily put together who they were talking about. It was moments like these that Bruce hated being lumped together with men like this.

“You’re an idiot,” the friend said with a laugh.

“Oh, yeah? Alright. If you’re so obsessed with her, why don’t you go over and talk to her?”

Bruce saw his window. 

With a sloppy haste, Bruce turned right into the two men and just happened to spill his drink over the man who was about to make a move on Y/N.

Bruce laughed and spilled another drink on the bar as he tried to grab some nearby cocktail napkins. “Gentleman, gentleman…I so dearly apologize.”

Both of them were clearly annoyed, but then realized who he was.  

Bruce gripped them by the shoulders and made sure his eyes were struggling to stay open. “I could be wrong…but it’s possible…that I have been over served.”

He broke out into a chuckle and both men forced their own laughter.

Bruce subtle glanced over to where Y/N had been standing. She’d disappeared.

He’d spared her…for now.

“I think it’s time I go home,” Bruce told them too loudly. “Do me a favor? Wish her congratulations for me?”

The two men looked at one another. “Congratulations? To who?”

Bruce frowned in confusion and looked around. “Isn’t this an engagement party?”

They tried to hide their laughter. “Wayne, this is a birthday party. For Eaton Elliot.”

Bruce’s brows shot up. “A birthday party? Look at that!”

Then he turned around, zigzagged his walk, and threw a wave over his shoulder.

But Bruce wasn’t that lucky.

Because when he made his way to the valet, he found Y/N waiting patiently with her back to him. 

Her fancy dress and gloves seemed to do nothing to help protect her from the cold night. 

Bruce could’ve left. He could’ve left her alone, gone back into the party, and made more of a fool of himself.

But next thing he knew, he was walking forward.  

“Waiting for your car?”

Y/N didn’t turn to him, but it was clear that she heard his question and recognized who it had come from. “I didn’t drive. They’re getting me a cab.”

Bruce nodded slowly even though she wasn’t looking at him.

All charm had left his body now that he had quit the act. It wasn’t going to do any favors for him. He needed to do this on his own, as his real self.

Y/N finally turned with a slight attitude and Bruce was taken aback at how she was even more beautiful up close.

“What are you doing here, Bruce?”

He smirked. “I’m here for the party, of course.” He didn’t want to play the part anymore – not with her. But it was second nature at this point.

Her lips pursed at his response.

“Leaving so soon?” He asked.

Y/N sighed. “Between you and me, I’m only here as a favor to my mother. She wouldn’t get off my back about coming. I tried to leave sooner, but…”

One of the valets hopped up the steps. “I’m sorry, Dr. Y/L/N. It can take awhile to get cabs in the area at this time of night.”

Y/N gave him a sympathetic smile and opened her mouth to say she’d walk home.

“I’ll drive her home,” Bruce spoke before she could. Then he handed the valet his ticket.

Y/N looked at him with confusion and a bit of annoyance. “You really don’t have to do that.”

Bruce just gave her a look that said he absolutely did.

Then Y/N gestured back to the party. “You’re just gonna abandon your dates?”

The way she asked made it clear that Y/N had seen Bruce stumble out of the bathroom with the two of them. He also didn’t miss how she emphasized the plural.

“They’ll be fine,” Bruce told her.

He took a step toward her. “Let me give you a ride, Y/N.”

She took in a deep breath.

She knew she needed the ride. Only an idiot would walk home at this time of night, even if the walk to her apartment was a relatively safe one for Gotham standards.

Y/N just nodded.

A minute later, an Aston Martin drove up.

Bruce offered his arm to Y/N and helped her down the stairs before opening the passenger door for her.

He handed the valet a few bills, not even noticing they were all hundreds.

“Where to?” Bruce asked her.

“Oh, umm…” Y/N quickly gave him her address.

“I know you’ve been gone awhile, but you definitely shouldn’t be walking around the streets of Gotham at night.”

Y/N scoffed. “I’m aware. I moved back awhile ago.”

“Oh. I didn’t know…”

“Yeah. Well, why would you? It’s not like you kept in touch.”

The car filled with silence.

Y/N stared out the passenger window, looking at the skyscraper lights of Gotham

It seemed Y/N had no issue with staying silent for the whole car ride.There was nothing awkward about it for her.

But Bruce knew there were things he needed to say. “I’m sorry.”

This was the last thing Y/N expected and her head whipped to him.

But Bruce kept his eyes on the road. “For disappearing like I did.”

Y/N slowly turned back to the passenger window and said nothing.

Bruce didn’t expect to win her forgiveness. He would have to deal with that. But at least he could apologize.

“Y/N.” Bruce said it ever so quietly, like he was forbidden from speaking it. “This isn’t…I’m not…” Dammit. What was he even trying to accomplish right now? “Back there–”

“Back there?” Y/N interrupted his fumbling. “Oh, you mean the threesome you had in a bathroom at a party?”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

Everyone bought his performance. Unfortunately, even Y/N.

Bruce pulled over and Y/N realized they were at her building already.

“You can say whatever makes you feel good, Bruce. Have at it.” Then she threw open the car door.

She put her hand on the handle to help herself out.

But she hesitated.

No. She wasn’t going down without a fight.

Y/N spun around to face Bruce, his blue eyes already waiting for her.

“You used to be kind. Strong and brave. You were better than all of them.”

And for the first time, Bruce really saw the damage he had done.

“Is that boy really gone?” She searched his eyes for the answer. “What is the act and what is the truth?” She whispered. “Huh, Bruce?”

He wanted to tell her.

Bruce had never felt the urge to expose his secret ever before.

But right now? Right now, he wanted to take Y/N back to the manor, drag her down to the cave, and show her all of his secrets – every single one.

But he couldn’t. And he knew that.

Bruce kept his face reserved.

His brow furrowed for just a second as he took Y/N in. All of her. Her eyelashes. Her lips. The styling of her hair. The dip of her neck.

“You became quite the woman, Y/N.” He told her. “And a beautiful one at that.”

Y/N blinked at the statement. Her mind desperately tried to decipher the hidden message in his words, in his actions from the night. But she came up with nothing.

She wanted to say that she knew he was using flattery to divert her attention from what she wanted to know. But it was also clear that he genuinely meant what he said as well. His eyes seeming to be taking in every moment of being in her presence.

If Y/N weren’t so irritated, she probably would’ve been more taken aback by his compliment, feeling vulnerable and almost embarrassed.

There wasn’t any point in pushing.

So Y/N took in a breath. “Thank you for the ride, Bruce.”

He just nodded. Then he watched her walk to the door of her apartment building. He probably lingered a few moments too long, but he couldn’t bring himself to once again put distance between them.

————

Alfred brought down food and an espresso to the cave.

When he looked up, Y/F/N Y/L/N’s face was on the giant screen.

“Working on a case, Master Wayne?” He asked with his usual sarcasm.

Bruce ignored the question. “She attended undergrad in Metropolis and then went to grad school in New York City.”

“Yes, I can see that…considering you have her student records exploited all over the screen,” Alfred responded with a smirk. “She’s been living in Gotham again for a few years, working as a psychiatrist. Even volunteers her services at Arkham – pro bono.”

That caught Bruce’s attention. He turned away from the screen to look at Alfred.

“I found no record of that,” he argued.

“Yes. Well, her mother is rather embarrassed by it. Thinks it gives the family a bad image. She insisted Y/N’s philanthropy was kept secret, even approved the NDAs herself.”

Bruce gave him a look, utterly confused how Alfred had access to such information.

Alfred raised an eyebrow. “Never underestimate the power of gossip, Master Wayne. Most family secrets cannot be found on the dark corners of the internet.” Then he smirked. “You would gain quite the knowledge if you didn’t turn your nose up at it.”

Bruce smiled at that and turned back to the computer.

“So, I take it that it was good seeing her?” Alfred pressed.

Bruce tensed at the question. “Not entirely. I’m certain that she hates me.”

“Hates you or hates the character you’ve so carefully created?”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m just Bruce Wayne to her.”

Alfred opened his mouth to say more.

“Leave it, Alfred.” Bruce cut off before he could.

“Well, it appears I’m not the one struggling with leaving it alone, Master Wayne.”

Like many of Gotham’s elites, Alfred had humored the idea that Bruce and Y/N would make a marvelous couple. Like Bruce, Y/N didn’t let money and power sway her morals or damage her good and kind heart.

Alfred had always enjoyed having her over and listening to her and Bruce’s laughter as they caused trouble around the manor and entertained themselves.

But he also saw how her departure effected Bruce, no matter how much the teenager had tried to hide it at the time.

Maybe Alfred was an optimist or a romantic, but he still believed there was a chance for the two of them. But Bruce, quite frankly, would have to get over himself and his stubbornness.

————

Bruce was looking down at the city from yet another rooftop. It had been a quiet night. And he hated nights like that. It was always ended up being the calm before a storm.

“Batman?” Alfred spoke into his comms.

“Yes.”

“It appears there’s been a breakout at Arkham. The media hasn’t caught wind of it yet. But law enforcement has already been dispatched.”

“I’m on my way,” Bruce announced as he slid down a fire escape and made his way to the batmobile that he’d hidden in the shadows of an alley.

“Master Wayne…” Alfred knew to only use codenames on comms.

Bruce tense. “What is it?”

There was hesitation from the butler. “Y/N was scheduled to work a shift there tonight…”

Bruce said nothing. But his foot pressed the gas pedal down further than necessary.

—

Y/N was sitting with a patient when the alarm went off.

The people that worked there called them inmates, and corrected her every time she chose not to use that title.

Harleen Quinzel had been sitting across from Y/N for almost 30 minutes when they were interrupted.

“Oh, fun!” Harley clapped and giggled as the sirens filled their ears.

Harley and Y/N had formed an interesting relationship. The criminal seemed to like her and looked forward to her visits. She never threatened Y/N or tried to manipulate her.

Y/N believes she won her over by addressing her as Dr. Quinzel and often asking her professional opinions on trends and news in their industry. 

Most people there only referred to Harley as if she was property of the Joker, no matter how many times Harley clarified that she wasn’t his anything anymore.

“Does this happen a lot?” Y/N asked her, trying to remain calm.

“Not enough, if ya ask me!” She laughed.

Y/N made the mistake of opening the door and seeing that the majority of the cells had been opened and prisoners were slowly making their way into the hallway.

“Not good,” Y/N muttered.

“Don’t worry, doc. I’ll protect ya! Us gals gotta stick together.” Harley said from behind her shoulder.

Y/N whipped around and looked at her and then at the table she’d been sitting at. “Dr. Quinzel! How did you get out of your restraints?”

“Oh, I’ve always been able to. I just leave ‘em on to be polite.”

Y/N sighed. No one had explained any sort of protocol for such a situation.

“Where the fuck are all the guards?” Y/N asked.

Suddenly the lights shut off.

“Yippy!” Harley cheered.

Y/N turned to her and softly grabbed her shoulder, but gave her an insistent look. “Harley, we need to get somewhere safe.”

Her face did dip to serious for a moment. “You don’t need to worry about me. But you’re right. Not everyone in here appreciates a shrink…”

To her surprise, Harley starts pulling her through the darkness with a purpose.

Y/N had no idea where she was planning on taking her. It seemed all the doors were in lock-down mode, leaving her stranded. If she survived tonight, she’d definitely be bringing that up to the board.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Y/N yelped at the sound.

Someone had either gotten a hold of a gun or security guards were opening fire.

Either way, it caused chaos to erupt.

Suddenly the dark hallways were being filled with a stampede of prisoners. Either they wanted to take down the guard who was shooting or they were getting an adrenaline rush at the concept of their peers attacking their wardens.

The crowd ripped the two women apart. Y/N was shoved up against the wall and her head slammed against the cement.

Y/N swore under her breath from the pain.

“Is that…No, it can’t be…”

A voice called out over the madness.

A chill went up Y/N’s spine. She’d know that voice anywhere.

The Joker.

He wasn’t one of her patients. All researchers and doctors were forbidden to speak with him – especially after what happened with Harley.

But that didn’t stop the Joker from knowing who Y/N was. He whined and whined about feeling left out. “All my pals get to chat with her and all I get to do is look!”

Now, Joker was free from him isolation.

Y/N suspected he was behind the breakout.

And he was going to make a slight detour. A detour that was doing whatever the hell he wanted to with Dr. Y/L/N.

Y/N didn’t even bother hiding her fear. With a new found strength and endurance, she started shoving her way through the mob.

“I hear you and my pumpkin’ pie have gotten close.” Then his smile dropped. “Too close, if ya ask me.”

Y/N ignored him as another prisoner shoved into her shoulder.

“I don’t appreciate you putting ideas in her head!”

Y/N stopped, realizing she had miscalculated her escape and had come to a dead end.

So she slowly turned around to face him, putting her back to the wall. “And what ideas are those?”

“Independence. Self respect. A life beyond crime and incarceration,” he spat.

Y/N realized he had his goonies flanking him, only making her odds that much worse.

“Those aren’t ideas. They’re a reality, a possible future,” she defended.

Joker didn’t like that answer one bit. He threw himself against her, once again slamming Y/N into the wall.

He gripped her chin roughly and smiled with his yellow teeth. “You know…she’s not the only doctor I’d like to break in. And in more ways than one, if you catch my drift,” he giggled.

Then his eyes raked over her body, up and down. His hands slid down her hips and the side of her legs until they got to the hem of her pencil skirt.

Y/N shoved him away with all of her strength. 

But that earned her a slap across the face from him.

Joker gripped her waist tightly pressing her between the wall and his body. “I’m in charge now, doc. And I’ve got a few lessons to teach you.”

His hands grabbed at the buttons of her blouse and with one jerk, he ripped open her her blouse.

But before he could go any further, a few of his lackeys cried out in pain. 

Y/N swore she heard the sound of objects whipping through the darkness. 

She didn’t want to let herself feel any relief. But she hoped Harley had made her way back to her. She’d probably pack an even heavier punch once she realized Y/N needed protecting from her asshole ex.

But when Joker turned around and Y/N followed his gaze, Harley was nowhere to be found.

Yet three men were on the ground, unconscious.

“Well, well, well,” Joker muttered in amusement. “Has Batsy come out to play?”

Next thing Y/N saw was a shadow dropping down out of nowhere and taking out even more of Joker’s men.

Joker seemed to be prepared for such an interruption. Because he grabbed a knife from somewhere hidden on his body and ripped Y/N off the wall. He pressed Y/N’s back to his chest and put the tip of his knife to her throat.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” Joker sang.

To Y/N’s shock, Batman stepped into what little light was in the hallway.

“Long time, no see!” Joker screamed so loudly that Y/N flinched. “Did you miss me, Batsy? And you came all this way to see little old me?! How very sweet!”

“Your attempted escape was a failure,” Batman stated. “There’s nowhere for you to go. All the exits are blocked. Arkham has been contained.”

“What a shame! I really felt this one was gonna work!” Joker laughed.

Batman took a step toward him. “It’s over, Joker.”

“You’re probably right,” Joker shrugged. “But I really wanted to have some fun with doc here. So, if you could give us some privacy.”

Batman’s eyes flickered to Y/N’s for a brief moment. “Let her go,” he warned.

“How about…no?” Joker laughed.

Just as Batman was about to make his move, Y/N grabbed the wrist of Joker’s arm that held the knife. She twisted it and dived in such a succinct motion that it was obvious Y/N had been trained.

Whipping herself out of Joker’s grip, she twisted Joker’s arm so roughly and quickly behind his back that he had no choice but to drop his knife from the pain.

Then Y/N was now facing him, and with one swift swing of her leg, she kicked him right in the groan.

Batman saw his opening and rushed forward, cuffing Joker in place.

While Batman neutralized him, Y/N stumbled for the knife that Joker had dropped, still not feeling safe and out of danger.

She looked around, realizing that the police had filtered in and apprehended all the escaped prisoners. Some were already locked back into their cells. Other’s were in handcuffs with guns being pointed at them in warning.

“Dr. Y/L/N,” his voice made her whip back around.

How the hell did Batman know her name?

She squinted wearily at him.

“You can drop the knife,” Batman told her quietly.

Y/N blinked and looked down at her hand, having forgotten that she even grabbed the knife. And she now had a vice-like grip on it.

Her hands were shaking when she dropped the knife and the clatter echoed in the hallway.

She eyed the Joker, not trusting any sort of weapon to be in his vicinity, despite being handcuffed now.

“He’s not going anywhere,” Batman noted, as if he could read her mind and hear the concerns she was thinking.

Police officers surrounded them now.

“Until next time, doc!” Joker sang loudly.

Batman stepped between him and Y/N, shielding her from even being seen by the lunatic.

Y/N eyed him, wondering if he did that on purpose.

“This way,” he directed lowly as he led her out of the hallway.

Y/N was surprised when he escorted her all the way out of the building.

Wasn’t this supposed to be Gotham’s Dark Knight? A disappearing act? An urban legend that some people still didn’t believe in?

When they got outside, there were even more officers. The night was flickering blue and red from all the patrol car’s lights still being on.

Commissioner Gordon was having a field day with Arkham’s warden, yelling at him about lack of protocol and no protection for the volunteers and workers that had gotten caught in the crossfire.

But finally, the reality of what just happened was starting to set in for Y/N. And she realized that her entire body was shaking.

All of a sudden, a blanket was wrapped around her shoulders.

She looked up to see that Batman had draped it over her. When and where he’d grabbed it, she had no clue. But the warmth was helping, so she didn’t question it.

“Thank you…for saving me back there.”

Was that a smirk on his lips? Was Batman amused by her?

Why was it so comforting when he was a mere stranger?

And his eyes, even when they were surrounded by a cowl and dark paint, they still felt familiar. Y/N had a similar feeling to deja vu.

“Looked like you had it handled,” he replied.

“Oh, I definitely didn’t. But thank god for those self-defense classes.”

They looked into each other’s eyes for a second.

“Make sure you get checked out by the paramedics,” he told her gently, but insistent.

It was far too gentle for his Batman alter ego. But she caught how it sounded like it personally mattered to him.

Y/N looked behind her, where the ambulance was.

But when she turned back around, Batman was gone.

Next thing Y/N knew, she was being surrounded by two paramedics and Commissioner Gordon who was careful not to push her by asking too many questions at once.

“Does he always do that?” She asked him in a daze.

“Do what?” Gordon asked.

“Disappear like that?”

Gordon smiled and nodded. “Annoying, isn’t it?”

———

“What’s the gossip of the privileged this week?” Bruce asked Alfred at breakfast a few days after the outbreak.

“Something specific you’re looking for, Master Wayne?” Alfred asked as he poured Bruce a big mug of coffee.

Bruce glared at him, knowing he was playing coy with him.

But he put his pride aside. “How is she doing?”

Alfred took pity on him. “She took some time off work. But seems to be handling it better than expected. Makes quite a bit of sense, doesn’t it? Her being psychiatrist and all.”

Bruce just nodded with a dazed look.

“You could always see for yourself…” Alfred added.

Bruce snapped out of his daze and looked up him questioningly.

“You could go see her,” Alfred confirmed.

“Alfred, don’t you start.”

“Start what, Master Wayne? Pushing you to form any sort of relationship?”

Bruce sighed and got up from the breakfast nook. He didn’t want to fight with him, so he’d made his exit before that happened.

“Batman has plenty of friends,” Alfred stopped him. “But what about Bruce Wayne, hmm? Who are his friends?”

“You saying we’re not friends, Alfred?”

“I’m all you’ve got, Master Wayne. And that’s my point.”

Before the discussion could go on any further, the doorbell rang.

The two men shared a look. 

No one stopped by the manor.

Alfred made his way over.

Bruce figured he’d wait where he was. But the front entrance was too far away from him to overhear any conversation.

A few minutes later, Alfred walked in with an unreadable expression.

“Dr. Y/L/N is here, Master Wayne. She is waiting for you in the drawing room.”

Bruce opened his mouth to tell him to make an excuse and get her to leave. But Alfred was already disappearing, making it clear that he would do no such thing for him.

When Bruce walked into the drawing room, he found Y/N’s back to him as she looked at the family heirlooms and trinkets that were displayed on the shelved.

She was dressed casually, which caught Bruce off guard since he’d only see her in formal wear and professional outfits since their reunion. Her hair was in a messy bun and she didn’t appear to be wearing much makeup, if any at all.

“Hi,” he greeted softly, making her quickly turn around.

“Hi,” she replied.

Bruce stepped further into the room. But neither of them moved to sit in any of the many seats that surrounded them.

“I heard what happened. How are you doing?” He asked.

She nodded and shrugged. “Alright.”

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Bruce admitted.

Y/N ignored his comment and her eyes went around the room. “I missed this place,” she thought aloud. Then her eyes fell back to his, softening. “I missed you.”

Bruce was taken aback from her confession. Seeing as the last time they were together, she was rather blunt about how disgusted and disappointed in him she was.

The energy between them felt so different than last time.

To his surprise, Y/N stepped toward him. And she didn’t stop until she was at a proximity that most would call rather intimate.

There was a voice in the back of Bruce’s mind, urging him to close the last bit of distance and place his lips on hers. But he managed to ignore it. That didn’t stop his heart from beating faster, though.

Y/N stared into his eyes for a few seconds, almost like she was searching for something.

“I have something that belongs to you…”

Bruce waited, not sure what she could possibly have to give him.

But then she pulled out one of his batarangs from her coat pocket, offering it to him.

She had found it embedded in the wall when she had gone back down to grab her personal belongings that night. 

Bruce kept his face composed. “I’m not sure I understand.” 

But he grabbed it from her anyways.

“He’s you,” she whispered. “Or I guess…you’re him.”

Bruce let out a breath, “Y/N…”

She took step away from him. “Don’t lie to me, Bruce.”

So he shut his mouth and said nothing instead.

“I’ve been doing some research. Things started lining up,” Y/N explained. “The first Batman sightings were right around when we stopped talking. The more Batman was in the press, the less Bruce Wayne was. And when he was, it was never positive – like it was meant to be a distraction.”

Her eyes went sad. “I never understood how the boy I used to love could grow into the man I’m so disappointed in. It never made sense.” She paused. “But when you wonder if the man himself is the mask, it all fits.”

“I’m sorry.” Bruce hung his head slightly. “I couldn’t tell anyone. Not even you.”

“I’d never share your secret.”

“I know,” he answered instantly.

Y/N couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer. Her eyes welled with tears. “Bruce…living like this has its consequences.”

Bruce said nothing.

She stepped forward and grabbed his hand. “You can’t change the world on your own. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Y/N wasn’t giving him advice. She was offering him something.  

Her trust.

Her secrecy.

Her love.

He shook his head, but gripped her hand tightly. “You would just end up in the shadows with me. And I…I can’t do that to you.”

“I’m stronger than you think,” Y/N defended.

“I’ve always known how strong you are, Y/N.” His jaw tightened at even the thought of being selfish. “You deserve more than what I can give. Gotham will always come first. That’s the sacrifice I made. That’s what is required. I can’t be what you need.”

Y/N studied his face, knowing that there would be no winning with him.

She nodded once, not even slightly hiding her heartbreak and disappointment.

Then she stepped closer and gave him a slow kiss on the cheek.

“It’s not a one time offer, Bruce.”

Bruce couldn’t move a muscle. He was rooted in place.

He heard Y/N have a short conversation with Alfred, then the door closed, and she was gone again.

———

Bruce Wayne was a fool.

Alfred could probably make a list, in seconds, with a hundred reasons why.

But, no, Bruce Wayne was a fool for believing Y/N would give up so easily.

Two weeks later, Y/N was at Wayne Manor again.

Bruce knew something was going on when Alfred didn’t seem surprised in the slightest.

In one of her arms was popcorn seeds, twizzlers, sour patch kids, and chocolate covered pretzels. In the other arm was a case of beer.

Y/N barely said hi to Bruce as Alfred helped her out of her coat and took the things out of her grasp so she was no longer struggling to hold it all.

“I’m here to use your theater,” she announced.

And with that, she walked right past Bruce like she owned the place.

Bruce looked at Alfred and silently asked, ‘What the hell is going on?’

“I believe you have a guest to entertain, Master Wayne.” Then he looked at the items in his hand. “And I believe I have some popcorn to make.”

Bruce still didn’t move.

“You successfully closed yet another case last night, it’s Friday night, and you have a beautiful woman who decided she wants to spend her time with you. Best you don’t keep her waiting, Master Wayne.”

Bruce narrowed his gaze as if telling Alfred they’d discuss this matter at another time.

“I presume you shouldn’t go empty handed,” Alfred added quickly and handed Bruce two beers from the case in his arms.

Bruce chuckled, but started walking away. “I’m surprised you even let this stuff in the house, Alfred.”

When Bruce reached the theater, Y/N had already started a movie.

He watched her a for a moment before she could realize he'd joined her. 

Y/N looked like she belonged there. Even after all this time apart, she just burrowed herself a cozy nook in Bruce’s life.

It was something she had been able to do even when they were kids. When Bruce had his mood swings or his depressive episodes, Y/N didn’t scare. She just found her way to stay at his side without upsetting him further.

Bruce grabbed the seat to the left of hers.

They weren’t really seats, more like small beds. A dozen were placed in the theater.

A couple could easily share one, but Bruce wasn’t planning on even approaching that fine line.

When Bruce sat down, he didn’t look at Y/N. But she gave a shy smile at his joining.

It was a long movie – almost a 3 hour run time.

And Y/N almost made it.

Without only 30 minutes left, Y/N had fallen asleep. Meaning Bruce’s attention was now taken from the movie.

He got up and grabbed one of the many blankets in the trunk hidden in the corner and placed it carefully over her, before silently leaving.

This was not a one time thing.

These type of visits continued.

Bruce knew Y/N and Alfred had to be in cahoots together. 

Y/N seemed to always come to the manor when Bruce needed her most. 

Alfred would force Bruce out of the cave and moments later, the doorbell would be ringing.

On the bad nights, she wouldn’t make him talk. She wouldn’t ask questions or try to make him magically feel better. Sometimes she would talk – mostly about mundane things. She’d tell Bruce about her day or how her neighbor always left baked goods at her door or about the new show she started watching. Sometimes she wouldn’t say anything at all, just sit there silently and make sure he wasn’t alone.

Sometimes she would bring coffee and pastries.

Sometimes Bruce would just walk into the library and find her reading.

Sometimes she would sit and chat with Alfred as if he was the reason she was visiting, and not Bruce.

Bruce couldn’t sleep one night. Nothing specific was causing his insomnia. Just the overall weight of being so many people.

It was 3AM when Y/N texted him to open the door for her because she didn’t want to wake Alfred.

When Bruce did so, Y/N was standing on the other door in sandals and a slightly transparent coverup that barely showed the outline of the bathing suit underneath.

He said nothing, but his face clearly showed that he wanted to know why the hell she was there in the middle of the night.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Y/N told him quietly. Then she shrugged a bit,“I decided I wanted to go for a swim."

Whether she was lying for his benefit, Bruce wasn’t sure. But he followed her to the indoor swimming pool like a sailor would follow a siren.

Without hesitation, Y/N kicked her sandals off and tossed her coverup on the nearest chair. And the next second, she was diving into the pool.

Bruce smirked at her nonchalance, but made sure to hide it when she breached the surface once again.

“Doesn’t your apartment building have its won pool?” He asked.

Y/N smiled and tilted her head back to get her hair wet again and out of her face. “They put too much chlorine in it.”

Bruce crossed his arms, “I see.”

“Coming in?” She asked teasingly.

He shook his head.

“At least keep me company,” she requested.

Bruce glared playfully at her, knowing the game she was playing.

But he finally sighed and nodded.

He was in cotton shorts and a t-shirt. But he decided to sit on the edge of the pool and dip his feet in.

He watched as she swam around, looking as natural in the water as a mermaid. She had always loved swimming as a kid and it appeared not much had changed.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” He finally decided to break the silence.

Y/N swam to him and crossed her arms on the edge of the pool to rest and tilted her head to look at him.

She shrugged, “The usual: stress, nightmares, insomnia, too much caffeine.”

 Bruce’s concern spiked instantly. “Nightmares about what?”

She watched him for a moment, seeing how quickly her subtle comment triggered him.

“You’re not the only person who’s seen fucked up things, Bruce.”

An hour later, Y/N asked for a towel.

When she climbed out, she was taken aback by Bruce wrapping it around her shoulders and rubbing her down gently. It was innocent, but subtly intimate.

As their eyes locked for a prolonged time, and he seemed to realize what he’d done accidentally.

Y/N cleared her throat. “I should head home and let you try to get some sleep.”

“You could stay,” he offered. “I mean, we have plenty of bedrooms here,” he quickly added and saved himself a bit.

“Is that…what you want?” Y/N asked slowly.

Bruce knew what she was trying to ask. He didn’t trust himself to answer the way he should, so he didn’t answer.

“Let me drive you home,” he asked as they left the indoor pool and started toward the front entrance.

Y/N ignored the request until they were at the door. She turned to face him with a smug look, “I’m perfectly capable of driving myself. Thank you.”

She hesitated before kissing him on the cheek. “Get some sleep, Bruce.”

————

Months after Y/N’s visits started, Bruce was doing some research for a case on his tablet as he ate dinner.

“Margaret Caulfield’s engagement party is tonight,” Alfred broke the silence of the manor as he took Bruce’s finished plate.

Bruce looked confused on why he was supposed to care.

“Y/N will be there,” Alfred added.

But Bruce still didn’t understand what he was trying to say.

“Master Wayne, when you attend all those sufferable parties, what is the first question people ask you?”

Bruce thought for a moment. “When I plan on settling down, I guess.”

“Now imagine that, but magnified by about 100…and that is what Y/N’s experience is at those same parties. That young woman is one of the brightest people in Gotham and all those people care about is who will put a silly ring on her finger.”

Bruce leaned back in his chair, now understanding what Alfred was getting at. “I’m not her boyfriend, Alfred.”

“And you’ve made damn sure of that,” Alfred said a little too harshly.

Bruce watched him carefully.

“Y/N has fought off every one of your attempts to be a miserable recluse.”

Bruce opened his mouth.

“And don’t you dare try and tell me her efforts are wasted,” Alfred cut him off. “I’ve seen a change in you. And she has asked for absolutely nothing in return. She’d never ask you to pick her over Batman. Though she bloody well should!”

He wasn’t done.

“You’re not living, Master Wayne. And I won’t apologize for wanting more for you.”

Bruce just sat there and took it.

Alfred took in a breath, calming himself down. “There’s a suit waiting for you in your bedroom. I’ve decided I’m going for a evening walk.”

——————

Y/N didn’t know how many more champagnes she’d have to shrug to start feeling the buzz she so desperately needed.

Not even an hour of being at the party and she’s already been asked 15 times if she was seeing anyone. And when she answered no, half of those ended in them trying to set her up with someone.

As Y/N was trying to think of an excuse to escape, an old family friend approached her – a friend of her grandma’s unfortunately.

“Y/N, dear, let me see those hands!”

Y/N wanted to roll her eyes and snap, but she did as requested.

“No ring yet,” the woman teased, but she was also genuinely disappointed.

“That would be my fault, actually.” A voice said behind Y/N before she felt a hand on her lower back.

“Oh, Mr. Wayne, how nice of you to come!” The woman beamed. “Now, Y/N, why wouldn’t you tell anyone that you and Bruce are an item?”

“My fault again,” Bruce chuckled, “I’ve always enjoyed a good secret.”

Before she could ask more, Bruce smiled politely. “If you could excuse us for a moment.”

He steered Y/N to a private area of the party.

“What are you doing?” Y/N hissed at him. “The press are gonna have a field day. You and I will be every headline tomorrow.”

He smiled at her frantic concern.

“Why are you looking at me like that? I’m serious!”

Bruce captured her lips, silencing any further panic from her.

Y/N was completely caught off guard, but he wasn’t letting her go so easily. And soon, her hand went to the back of his head and she kissed him back. 

Damn all the people who were probably watching them.

When Bruce finally let her pull away, he smirked at her dazed look and cupped her cheek. 

She matched his smirk.

But then reality set in like a splash of cold water and she frowned.

“Am I – Is this your new cover?” She asked shakily, so scared that the answer was ‘yes.’

She could tolerate being Bruce’s friend for the rest of her life. But she wouldn’t survive being used in such a way. She couldn’t live in a fake relationship with a man she actually loved. She’d rather watch his sloppy persona with girls hanging off of him.

“No cover-up,” he muttered to her. “Just me and you – the real me.”

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

I worked so hard on this 😩  Please let me know your thoughts. 

[wonwoosthetic]

I’m going to need a Minnie + Hanbin update ASAP. I’m rooting for them and I need to know what happened next 🥺 I love/enjoy everything you write though so pls keep writing!!

ASAP you say?!?! Then here you gooo!!!!🤭🤗

A Bad Boy’s Biggest Fan || Minnie 🌸

K-Pop Masterlist

Anon Requests

Prompts (can be used for this series!)

Asks and requests for thoughts, opinions, mtl, wwr, smut fluff, prompts, and taglist are open!

Word Count: 1.7k (just a little update since I wanted to get this to you ASAP :))

Also: I love teasing people 😬

𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼

After finishing practice surprisingly early that day, Minnie quickly gathered all of her things, got changed in one of the bathrooms in the building, and said her goodbyes to the staff and her members, after asking them to take her big bag to the dorm. As soon as she got into a cab, her heart started beating at a rapid speed, excited for where she was heading.

She hadn't texted Hanbin to let him know about her arrival since for one: she knew he probably wasn't looking at his phone, and two: she didn't want to make a promise of visiting him without knowing if she could keep it. But there the girl was, sitting in a car, on her way to the set, where he was filming his dance video for the new album.

At the scene, Minnie got greeted by the security first, who knew her from previous sets she had visited, followed by the staff members who were more than happy to welcome her.

"Oooh, Minniiieee!!!" A high and loud voice rang through her ears. Turning her head to the left, the girl could see Hanbin's make-up stylist, Hyosonn, running up to her, ready to embrace her in a tight hug, "Hiiiiii," she screeched. "Hi, Hyo," she laughed, engulfing her in a hug.

"I didn't expect you to come today," the stylist let her go and looked at her, keeping her hands on the younger girl's shoulders. She smiled and shrugged, "I got done earlier and wanted to see how it's going." A sheepish grin grew on the woman's face, knowing damn well the girl was desperately missing the boy, not having seen him in the last few days since she had to prepare for their comeback.

"He's over there, filming," she nodded, pointing to the set-up behind the girl. As often as the young girl tried to explain that Hanbin and her were taking it slow, not wanting to jump into anything too quickly, no one believed her. Every staff member knew about the feelings both had for each other, and it was hurting them, watching how careful they were next to each other. Just as annoying as it was for the people around them, they themselves felt the same way. Even after the kiss, they shared after Hanbin's last trial... neither of them wanted to take the first step and make something official again - why the hell not?!

Turning around, Minnie saw the man she was looking for, sitting in an office chair, with a camera right in his face.

After saying a quick "Thank you" to the stylist, the singer strutted through the big open space, stopping next to the staff and watched her business partner at his craft. Not even two minutes later, as Minnie was watching him closely, a smile dancing on her lips, he spotted her and switched to his off-camera persona. Excitedly, he walked over to her embracing her in a warm hug, the leather jacket he was wearing felt cold against her cheek. "I didn't think I would see you today," he patted her hair and put a strand behind her ear. The wide grin never left her face, and it never would as long as she was looking at him and he was looking at her, "We finished practise earlier, and I wanted to see the set." You. I wanted to see you. God damnit, why couldn't she just say that. What was so hard about admitting that she wanted to see her... her... it was complicated. Business partner? Everyone knows they were more than that...

"And? What do you think?" He asked brightly, his arms stretched out showing off what the staff had built up, paying attention to every detail, Hanbin had asked for.

"It's huge. It looks really cool" she admitted, looking around once again, "I don't know what I was expecting, but they definitely topped everything I could have ever imagined."

While her eyes were scanning their surrounding, the boy's eyes never left her face. The lights around them and the fire they had just put up were reflecting in her dark orbs, making them look like stars, and he couldn't drift his gaze away from it. Snapping out of the daydream he was dangerously close to falling into, he gained a bit of confidence and asked her, "And what do you think of me?" Making her snap her head quickly to look at him, "Hm?"

"What do you think of my outfit?" He changed the question, hoping she actually didn't understand him properly the first time. Jesus Christ, get your shit together, you were together for two years... were... you were together.

Minnie's gaze ranked over shoulders, down his torso that was covered by an almost see-through shirt and she could feel her eyes stopping for a bit too long before analyzing his pants as well.

"You look like a bad boy," she grinned.

"Like a bad boy," Hanbin started laughing. "Yeah," she copied him, "What did you want me to say?"

"Nothing, nothing," he waved his hand, "Bad boy. That's good. I think that's what we were going for."

"Are you teasing me?" Minnie jokingly glared at him. "Maybe," he simply stated, looking at her eyes by leaning forward a bit, making her lose her balance slightly, but she thankfully got herself together quickly.

Without thinking much about her next actions, she traced the fake scar right next to his right eye with her finger, "That looks kinda real."

"It is," he looked at her seriously, her eyes widening immediately in worry, "I fought a bear on my way here. He scratched me, but you know, nothing big," he tried looking sly to the side. Minnie hit his shoulder as soon as he finished talking, "Idiot." She said with a smile on her face.

"I don't know if you should call your boss that," Hanbin teased her with a smirk.

The sexual tension was insanely overwhelming, even for Minnie and it made her hold her breath when she saw the look he was giving her - a look she knew very well from the three years they had spent together. The fact that she was able to answer surprised her herself. "Well, if my boss wasn't such a big idiot, I wouldn't have to call him that."

"I see, I see." Was the last thing he was able to say before getting called to go back in front of the camera where the fire was burning. Just as he turned back to look at the girl, as if she could read his mind, "I'll wait here." She kindly looked at him, assuring him to not have to worry.

Minnie had been in a deep conversation with Jisoung, one of the staff members, when Hanbin called out for her, "Minnie!" he ushered her with a hand motion, "Come here!" She excused herself and left to stand next to the rapper, who was concentrated on the screen in front of him, monitoring the scene he had just shot. "What do you think Executive Art Director?" He teased her with the title she got when she signed the contract with his label. He's been annoying her with it ever since she got it, and he wasn't planning on stopping any time soon. As the look she gave him every time he used the nickname, added 5 years to his life, he swore. Or potentially it was because, with the name, he knew just how close she was to him once again. But let's not get into that...

So as predicted by him, she gave him a slightly annoyed look by squinting her eyes and puckering her lips before turning her focus to the screen, earning a chuckle from Hanbin.

Once she started looking closely at what the camera filmed, her eyes didn't leave the small TV for even a millisecond. Nor did she dare to blink, scared to miss out on any bit of the masterpiece that was playing in front of her. The rapper got slightly worried once he didn't get an answer within a few seconds of her, so he placed his hand softly on her back, bringing her back from her trance.

"So?" He looked into her eyes.

She gulped, "It looks great, like... It looks really really good." And then quickly turned towards the director, "You're amazing, damn... maybe you should shoot the next Seventeen music video," making the men around her laugh, and the director thankfully nodding his head.

Whereas Hanbin didn't notice the hand that was still on her lower back, Minnie felt his touch as if it was fire. Burning going through her entire body just from one little touch. A touch she had missed a little too much. Once she adjusted the bag on her shoulder, his hand dropped and quickly went to her shoulder in a more platonic way. "Come on, I wanna show the next scene." And he pushed her slightly towards the direction he wanted to go with her and let go of her once she was right beside him and walking by herself.

"They already built everything up?" Minnie wondered.

"Yeah, they've been here since morning. Way earlier than I have," he answered to which she nodded with an astonished look on her face, shocked but incredibly thankful and the commitment of the staff.

"WOW," she loudly voiced once she came to sight with the huge screen that played pixilated flames, "That's amazing! Oh my god." She also quickly caught up on the message he wanted to deliver with this, remembering one of their late-night deep talks in the office.

"You're genius," the girl turned to the older man, "I hope you know that."

"You tell me that all the time," he chuckled, but she shrugged, "I don't want you to forget that."

"You sound like a fan," Hanbin jokingly commented. "What do you mean sound?" she pouted, "I am your biggest fan." Her pout made him squeeze her cheeks - a habit he started back in 2018 which he couldn't get rid of. And he couldn't stop himself once she started looking at him like that.

"I know."

𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼

Taglist: @naghahabol @myballzinyojawz @chaebb (pls let me know if you don't want to get tagged in the Alternative Ending) :)

[jbbarnesnnoble]

Pining and Anticipation

Summary: You work for Starkly Yours, the adult division of Stark Industries, as a PA. A sudden depature leaves you to fill a role you never expected. 

Features/Warnings: Smut; self-doubt; mentions of weight; Oral sex (F recieving) 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Plus Size Reader

Notes: Pornstar AU. 

I did no research for this, just went with it. This will potentially become a series of oneshot series entitled ‘Dress’ 

Request:  “Hi there! I have a request for a Pornstar Au featuring Bucky x Plus Size Reader. In this world, the Avengers are some of the biggest entertainers in the industry. Reader is a staff worker who usually works behind the scenes, fixing lunches and getting drinks. One day, she is asked to work as a fluffer, due to call outs, to none other than Bucky, the cute Pornstar who has been flirting with her. Cue smutty fluff.”

Word Count: 2447

Stark Industries had been a household name for decades. Household gadgets to military weapons, you name it, Stark made it. Upon Howard Stark’s passing in the 90s, his son Tony took up the mantle, making changes to the way the company was run and dropping the weapons for other ventures. Starkly Yours was the adult division of the company, focusing on lingerie, sex toys, and the production of high quality, ethically made porn. Tony Stark was known for keeping a strict code of ethics when it came to that division of the company. No drugs. No alcohol. You could leave at any time and he had ways of disguising appearance for those who didn’t wish to have their true identity revealed.

That technology was a closely guarded secret. Tony had mentioned time and time again not wanting the government to get their hands on it. You didn’t blame him for that, knowing the guilt he carried for what had happened to Sokovia, the home of Wanda Maximoff, who had started working in the adult division a couple years prior. Her story had been one of many Tony had heard over the years. Wanda had started out working as a receptionist in the R&D lab in high school and college, before she graduated and moved to Starkly Yours. Wanda worked alongside you as a PA.

You marveled at the tech Tony had made to conceal identities. It was usually the younger actors and actresses who went that route, the ones who had no intentions of making a career out of being in Stark’s films. It was good money. Tony ran heavy background checks on all staff who worked within the video and image division. Brock Rumlow had once tried to out a girl and that had been the end of his career. You’d never cared for him anyway. He’d hit on you several times, with you rebuffing his attempts each time. You knew about Brock and none of what you knew was good. Last you’d heard he had started on with Hydra Productions, a sketchy production company based in LA. The last time you turned him down he called you names you refused to repeat, making comments on your weight and the fact that your pining for Bucky Barnes was becoming obvious. You never told Tony, not wanting to give Rumlow more of a reason to dislike you. You knew if you had told Tony, Rumlow would have been out the door sooner. 

You had started out as a PA for Tony after he and Pepper had gotten together, with Pepper taking over the day to day of the main part of the company. Tony’s domain these days was primarily Starkly Yours, between the films and the products. You were usually getting the lunches and drinks for the actors, and whatever else they needed. Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, the list went on. There were a core of actors at the studio called the Avengers. It was a fun little nickname, after a superhero themed series of videos that had been done. Their personas stuck across multiple films and it had been a moment of marketing genius. 

You were sweet on Bucky Barnes, something it seemed everyone but Bucky knew. Tony had crafted the arm he now had, working with the Wakandan princess who had spent a summer working with Stark Industries a few years back. You didn’t know the details of that exchange, just that Tony knew the Wakandan royals. Bucky’s arm was the only one like it in the world, made of vibranium and other metals. Others in the Stark prosthetic line were modeled after it, but with different metal. You knew the vague story of how he’d lost the arm, but never pushed for more than he was comfortable sharing when the two of you would hang out. 

You glanced at yourself in the mirror. It was hot in New York that morning, summer making itself known with an early heat wave. You were thankful that day’s shoot was indoors, in the air conditioning of the penthouse Stark had just for filming. You had opted for a tank top and a light cardigan that morning but you were regretting your choice. The tank top clung to you in a way that you felt was unflattering. Natasha would reassure you that you were in your head. You never did believe her, or  Wanda for that matter. You poked and prodded at your stomach after washing your hands in the bathroom sink. It was going to be a long day. You took in the image of your face, frowning at the appearance of your chin before letting out a sigh. 

You knew it was going to be a long day. You had gotten a text from Tony early that morning that you might be needed to perform additional duties. You weren’t sure what he meant by that. There was a pit in your stomach that told you that you might not like the answer. Tony would never force you to do something that made you feel uncomfortable, that much you knew. You pulled yourself from your thoughts and headed to where your boss was, talking to Natasha and Wanda. Natasha was set to be in the scene that day, alongside Bucky and Steve. 

“There she is, world’s best PA. Bad news, buttercup. Georgie resigned effective immediately. She got quite the opportunity across the pond in London with Peggy Carter’s new agency and Peggy needed her as soon as possible. That leaves us in a bind because you know how particular Barnes is,” Tony said. It took a moment for your mind to catch up. Georgie’s official job was as a camera tech, but she would, on occasion, act as a fluffer. Bucky was particular about everything, from who he did scenes with to who he’d allow to help him stay in the moment. He didn’t need help often, but Georgie was his go to person. She had been there before Tony had pulled you over to Starkly Yours. 

“What about Nat?” you asked, your voice cracking. 

“He said no. But something tells me he won’t say no to you helping him,” Natasha said with a mischievous smirk on her face.

“Me? Nat, I get near him and the man will be softer than an ice cream cone,” you replied. She rolled her eyes.

“Maybe you can’t see it, but that man has had it bad for you for months,” Natasha replied. You snorted. When you’d started working with Starkly Yours, you’d been seeing someone. He hated that you worked for a porn production company, but you refused to quit. It ended up being the end of your relationship six months earlier, with a parting jabs that stung more than you cared to admit. 

“Nat,” you whined.

“It’s true. He’s always flirting with you,” Wanda noted. You couldn’t disagree there. Bucky did flirt with you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it was more than friendly banter. Bucky Barnes was the kind of guy who could get any woman he wanted. You were sure that woman wasn’t you. No matter how long it had been, your face always warmed when he’d call you doll, honey, or sweetheart. 

“No, he says that shit to everyone,” you deflected. You saw the look the two women shared. 

“You’re up, buttercup. Trust me. He’ll be open to it,” Tony said, patting your shoulder. Natasha practically dragged you down the hall to Bucky’s dressing room. It was more like an actual bedroom. You glanced down at what you were wearing, regretting the fact that laundry day had left you with that damned tank top. ‘There’s no way Bucky will be turned on by this. If anything he’s going to get soft and I’ll be the joke of the day’ you thought to yourself. Natasha stopped suddenly, arriving outside Bucky’s door. You almost slammed into her. She looked you up and down.

“That top looks gorgeous on you. Don’t let him rip it,” she said. You held back a laugh at her comment. Only in your dreams would Bucky Barnes rip your clothes from your body. 

Natasha knocked on the door before you had a chance to back out of it. It swung open to reveal Bucky, his robe wrapped around him. You tried not to stare, you honestly did. But Bucky Barnes did things to you. Sinful, wicked things that would surely make a nun blush. Nuns, think of nuns, you told yourself, hoping your expression didn’t betray you. Oh, the things you would let that man do to you. 

“Bad news, Barnes. Georgie resigned suddenly to take a position immediately with Peggy’s new agency,” Natasha said. 

“Oh?” Bucky asked. That voice. You could listen to it all day. You would take it to the grave how many times you had gotten yourself off thinking about that voice telling you just what to do.

“Lucky for you, everyone’s favorite PA volunteered to assist you. However you’d like,” Natasha said with an exaggerated wink. You felt your cheeks warm again. You wanted desperately for the floor to swallow you whole.

“Did she now? Is that true, doll? You volunteered to help me today?” Bucky asked, his voice dropping lower. You felt your own wetness begin to pool between your legs. 

“Uh...yeah, I uh, I did,” you said, your voice cracking a little as the pitch increased. Natasha walked away, calling over her shoulder “have fun, you two” before disappearing around the corner. You were surprised when Bucky took your hand and pulled you into his room.

You had been in there before, bringing him lunch and occasionally hanging out. He was a friend above all else. His eyes roamed your body and you could have sworn you saw them darken as he did. He placed his hand under your jaw, tilting your head so you couldn’t help but look at him.

“Tell me the truth doll. Do you want to do this?” he asked, his voice low. You swallowed. You had a feeling he was talking about more than just a quick blow job to get him hard before a scene.

“Yes,” you replied.

“If we do this, sweetheart, there’s no putting that back in the bottle. And I’m not sure I can be just friends if we do. I’d prefer to take you to dinner first, but I think you and I can both agree, we are past the getting to know you stage,” he said. You blinked. It felt as though your brain was short circuiting. There was no way Bucky Barnes, one of the most attractive men you’d ever met, was asking you out, and from the sound of it, asking for something serious. You weren’t sure what had come over you before you answered.

“I’m all in if you are,” you replied. He smiled, a toothy grin that you knew was reserved for only you. He moved his hand, opting to take yours as he pulled you toward the bed, and gestured for you to sit. You looked at him, brow furrowed.

“I thought I was supposed to get you hard,” you said. He chuckled.

“Oh sweetheart, you underestimate how much I enjoy what I’m about to do. Our first time is gonna be all about you,” he said. He looked at you as he brought hit hands up to the button of your pants. With a swift nod from you, he undid the button and zipper in one motion, taking both your pants and your panties as he moved down your legs. You weren’t sure when you had lost the flats you were wearing, certain that it was somewhere between the door and the bed. 

Bucky moved to take your shirt off, but you touched his hands, stopping him. He gave you a look, brows furrowed in confusion. Your mind was racing. You didn’t want him to see you fully naked. No. Not Bucky. 

“Doll, let me see you, please?” he asked.

“Bucky,” you whined. 

“Let me show you how you should be treated. You’re gorgeous, sweetheart. And it’s about time someone showed you some appreciation,” he replied. He was smooth. You’d give him that. You pulled at the hem of your shirt, making the decision in that moment to pull it off, leaving you in your bra. You had never seen someone look at you quite like Bucky had in that moment. You’d had partners in the past, people who had loved you, all of you. But no one had ever looked at you like him. Bucky looked at you with such an intensity you thought you would melt. He pushed you back on the bed, having you lay down. He moved between your legs as he pressed gently to get you to open them for him. 

He kissed his way up your leg, taking his time. In the moments, thoughts about stretch marks and your size went out the window. You felt the anticipation, the desire for him to be where you needed him the most. At first contact, you arched off the bed, wanting more. You felt him smirk against you as his tongue moved from your entrance toward your clit. His right hand moved toward your center as he pressed one finger into you.

The sounds coming from you were absolutely sinful. Bucky swore he would do anything just to ensure he’d never go a day without hearing those sweet sounds coming from your mouth. He pressed another finger into you, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he pulled you over the edge. 

And over the edge you fell, screaming his name. You swore you saw stars. As you caught your breath, you saw him, your wetness on his face and him wearing a grin that told you the pair of you were far from done. His robe had since been discarded and you glanced down. He hadn’t been lying when he said he didn’t need you to do any of the work. But you still wanted to. God did you want to. 

“Later doll. Tony’s probably going to be knocking on that door any minute now looking for us,” Bucky said, seeing the look on your face. He had plans for the pair of you. Starting with dinner that night. 

The two of you emerged a few minutes later, Bucky with an arm around your waist. Natasha gave you a knowing look as the two of you entered the room being used for the shoot. 

If later that night, Bucky showed you just how much stamina he had, well, that was between you, Bucky, and the walls of his apartment. 

[fickle-tiction]

Gotham’s Ticklish Prince

This started out as a headcanon, and then it spiraled out of control. You’re welcome.

  ~~

One day Bruce Wayne makes headlines. This isn’t surprising, or even noteworthy. He’s always making headlines for some silly nonsense he does as Bruce, to draw attention away from Batman. What is surprising is when he walks into the Hall of Justice and sees his face smiling back at him from about 10 different magazines strewn all over the meeting table.

Specifically, he sees himself curling inwards, eyes crinkled, nose scrunched, mouth stretched into a wide surprised smile as Mike, his date to last night’s gala, stands behind him. Thankfully, Mike’s hands are out of frame so no one can tell from the picture that he’s squeezing Bruce’s sides from behind.

“Oh look.” Arthur says, coming out of nowhere with a shit eating grin on his face. “Gotham’s Ticklish Prince decided to show his face.”

If Bruce didn’t have years of training and self discipline under his belt he would have flushed.

A Different magazine comes flying at him and smacks him in the stomach before he can even blink. Bruce catches it on reflex and looks down, only to be met with the headline “Gotham’s Ticklish Prince Has A New Squeeze” and, to his internal horror, it shows a picture snapped about two seconds after the first one. Bruce is clearly laughing in delight as Mike squeezes his sides, in full view of the camera. Several smaller pictures are beneath it, catching Bruce as he latches onto Mikes hands, turns and leans in close to tell him to stop. He didn’t have to flip to page 4, where the story apparently continued, to know what other pictures they surely got. Mike hadn’t stopped after one squeeze, and Bruce was too into character, and for once too unaware of any paparazzo nearby, to make him stop.

He knew he should have skipped the gala last night. Getting only 3 hours of sleep over the course of 4 nights and then slipping into his Bruce persona was always risky. Normally the two whiskies he had wouldn’t affect him at all, but the exhaustion plus the fact that he liked this Mike guy and was feeling comfortable and loose, clearly created a perfect storm. He remembered Mike sneaking up on him, he remember his guard being down just enough for it to catch him unawares and cause a reaction. He remembered how good it felt, but he won’t be letting himself go there. No. No thank you.

What he didn’t remember was the paparazzi being right there.

Or what would happen when those pictures surfaced at HQ.

Bruce finally looked up from the front cover of the Gotham Globe and was met with identical smirks from Arthur and Clark. Well, that explained the newspaper smacking him in the stomach earlier.

“It’s a character.” Bruce said, voice flat as he tossed the magazine onto the conference table. It wouldn’t help his situation if he tried to throw it out or look like he was hiding something.

“Right.” Clark didn’t sound like he was buying it at all. “So you knew you were being recorded. That’s why you put on such a convincing act.”

Recorded?

Recorded?!

Again, Bruce didn’t outwardly react at the news, but inside he was curling into a ball, ready to wither and die at any second. They fucking got that on video?

Naturally, the huge screen on the wall clicks on at the moment, showing a video of Bruce doing something on his phone. He had actually been playing some asinine game as he waited for Mike to come back from the bathroom. Bruce Wayne couldn’t be caught doing anything more than slicing up fruit on his phone, after all.

“I see Victor’s here.” Bruce says dryly, as though his eyes aren’t glued to the screen. His face remains impassive, but inside he’s once again screaming for his past self to turn around as Mike comes into frame behind him. He’s so busy watching Mike smirk and start sneaking up behind him (and, really, how did he not notice this last night? The guy is being so damn obvious about it.) that he doesn’t notice Clark and Arthur inching closer to him on either side.

Bruce feels a hand latch onto either of his sides just as Mike reaches forward and does the same on camera. Thankfully, Bruce’s guard has been up since he first saw his goofy face smiling back at himself when he walked into the room, so he does nothing more than cock an eyebrow and look at first Arthur, and then Clark.

“It’s a character.” He repeats, ignoring the staccato squeezing at one of his worst spots.

“I’m not going to react like he does, even though this tickles like hell. Bruce Wayne is an airheaded goof ball. Batman might be ticklish, but he doesn’t let it show--what the fuck?!” Bruce looked down to see a glittering gold rope wrapped innocently around his ankle. “Diana! What the hell?! I’m going to--” He cut off, clamping his mouth shut as he felt words trying to spill out. Words he most definitely did not want to say in the present company.

“Going to what, Brucie?” Diana asked, smirking as she held the lasso of truth in her hand. Bruce glared daggers at her, lips clamped tightly even as the squeezing on his sides turned to wiggling fingers and, to his horror, he felt his resolve breaking. 

“I’m--” Bruce huffed, biting his lower lip to keep from both speaking and laughing. “--I’m going--” His mouth was trying to curve into a smile, but Bruce was nothing if not stubborn and refused to let it happen.

“We’ve almost got him.” Arthur smirked, venturing a little lower and pinching just above Bruce’s hipbone. 

Clark noticed the jolt that caused and immediately followed suit on his side.

“I’m-Going-To-Pretend-To-Hate-all-of-you-to-keep-up-my-image.” Bruce was forced to say, as he finally caved and latched onto Arthur and Clark’s hands. Not that it did him any good. He might be The Batman, but outside of his suit he didn’t stand a chance against Superman, Aquaman and Wonder Woman, if she decided to get more hands on.

“You don’t actually hate it, do you.” Clark marveled, giving that spot above his hipbone another gentle pinch. Thank God for his super hearing, because without it he probably would have missed the squeak Bruce let out.

“I-” Again, Bruce was trying to clamp his mouth shut, but it wasn’t very effective since his mouth was stretched into a wide grin. “I have an image to maintain!” It was supposed to come out as a growl, but instead it sounded more like a whine as Bruce’s dam broke and laughter started pouring out of him.

“Well, if you’re trying to maintain the Ticklish Prince of Gotham image, you’re doing a fantastic job.” Arthur mocked him, now fluttering his fingers up and down Bruce’s side rapidly. 

Bruce was lost to the laughter, something that hasn’t happened to him since he was a kid. He began backing up, trying to back away from the tickling fingers flying furiously up and down both sides of his body. Absently, he noted that Diana must have let him go because he didn’t trip over the lasso as he tried to get away. He did, however, back himself into the wall without realizing it since his eyes were squeezed shut as he tried to contain the wild laughter pouring out  of him.

“Fahahahack!” Bruce cursed himself as Clark and Arthur boxed him in, each still tickling away. Clark was now experimenting with Bruce’s stomach while Arthur, the bastard, was worming his way under Bruce’s arm. 

They let him try to defend himself for a minute, wordlessly taunting him as they both danced around his arms with half-hearted attempts to get at his armpits. Finally, Arthur spoke up. “Clark, do you mind doing something about these?” He asked, tracing his fingertips gently up and down Bruce’s forearms. Bruce was well and truly gone if even that tickled like hell.

“Wha-” Bruce asked, laughter starting to die down as he got a short break. He cracked his eyes open, realizing for the first time he had been hunched in on himself, arms clamped down tightly, trying to protect as much of his sides as he could. 

“Oh, it’d be my pleasure.” Clark grinned. Lightening fast, he grabbed up Bruce’s wrists in one strong hand and pinned them to the wall above his head. Bruce’s eyes widened comically, too far gone to have any hope of controlling his facial features.

“Hey now.” He said, voice breathy as caught his breath. “You’ve had your fun.” Instead of the gravely voice they’d come to expect, Bruce’s voice was closer to that of his alter ego Bruce Wayne’s now. Nearly high pitched, and just short of panicky as he flexed his arms against the steel grip they were in.

“Tell me Bruce,” Arthur started, fingers slowly crawling up his ribs towards their destination. Bruce’s nerves immediately jumped to attention because they were already so worked up. “Are your armpits ticklish?”

Bruce tried to glare at him, even as his muscles twitched beneath Arthur’s fingers and his mouth started curving into another grin.

“Diana left.” Clark added, grinning at the man he had pinned to the wall. “And she took her lasso with her. I guess we’ll have to find out for ourselves.”

“Fuck.” Was the last coherent thing Bruce said for quite a while.

When Clark and Arthur finally let him go, he slumps to the floor in an exhausted heap and marvels at the last time he laughed that much (The answer: never.) or the last time he felt this exhausted without getting his ass whooped, or whooping someone else’s.

Once he’s regained some of his dignity, Bruce goes to the security feed with the intention of deleting the last hour of footage. He surprised to find it’s already gone, the tapes spliced seamlessly, with only a minor blip to show anything is missing. 

Victor, naturally, saved the entire thing to his personal servers. Just in case.

[mingiswow]

Genre: smut, fluf at the end

Pair: sub!Chan x dom!reader (female)

Word count: +1,9k

Warnings: smut, sub!chan, dom!femreader, mistress kink, pegging, oral (f receiving), facesitting, slightly degradation, anal fingering (male receiving)

A/N: Hi! I don’t know exactly but I was talking to my friend the other day about Chan and OH GOD my mind went places... and ended up in here. So I hope you enjoy me being a filthy h**e about dominating this man. Also, I’m a bit rusty with English so pardon me if there’s anything wrong. I missed writing so much too, so yeah... here it is

You looked at your smiling boyfriend on the screen of your phone, his weekly live playing as you did your assignments. His bright smile was something you admired. As well as his loving persona towards his fans.

“I really love this song” he said as one of your favorites stopped playing. He always played one of your songs just to show you he remembers every song you claim as yours and his. “It’s very romantic” you laughed, knowing damn well that it was a very sensual song.

He scrolled through the comments, answering stays questions, thanking the compliments over the comeback. “I missed you... daddy” he read the comment, lowering his voice to say the word, but it was still possible to listen to his whisper “I missed you too baby stays” you chuckled to yourself, knowing his demeanor too damn well.

In a matter of seconds the internet was filled with videos, gifs and print screens of the phrase. Twitter going wild over it, thousands and thousands of girls commenting about being dominated by him.

You looked over your computer screen, it was past midnight and his live was still going strong, so you decided to let your assignments aside and prepare the bed for when your boyfriend decided it was time to come home.

It was around 2 PM when Chris opened the front door, his steps careful not to wake you up. He dropped his bag on the table and slowly walked to your room, finding the low light still on. “B-“ the words got stuck on his throat when he saw you sitting on the bed, still awake. Very much awake.

“Hi, sugar. I thought you wouldn’t come home today” the smirk on your face - and the toy in your hand - warned he was in for a long night. “Especially after your little show” you slowly walked over the man, his ears, neck and face getting red - and probably the tip of his cock too. “Why did you call yourself today, baby?”

“D-daddy” his voice just above a whisper, the stuttering getting the best of his confidence. Everytime you appeared near him dressed the way you were and with the whip in your hands he knew he did something wrong and was going to be punished. And he hated to admit that he loved.

“Interesting” Chan felt the familiar sting in his thigh, the muscle tensing underneath. “You think you’re daddy?” another sting, this time a soft whimper barely leaving his mouth.

“N-no” he felt your warmth close to his body and all he wanted was to hug you, to hold you close and apologize. But he couldn’t.

“No who?”

“No, mistress” the whip hit his butt this time, a soft moan escaping his lips and he could feel his dick throbbing underneath his sweats.

“Such a good boy, aren’t we? So obedient, so eager to please your mistress” your hands softly touched his toned abs, lowering to his bulge already very visible in his pants. He hissed as soon as he felt your touch, head thrown back in pleasure. “Always so sensitive. I love how my baby gets hard so fast. Who are you hard for?” this time your fingers wrapped around the volume and his lips left the most obscene moan.

“You, mistress. I’m so hard for you. Please let me give you pleasure” you wanted to just throw him in your bed and ride him until there was no tomorrow, but you had to punish him.

“Baby boy wants to give me pleasure?” he nodded eagerly, his lower lip stuck in between his teeth. “So why don’t you show me what those pretty lips of yours can do huh? Take your clothes off and lay in bed”.

Chan rushed his clothes out of his body, his dick springing free and hitting his stomach, a sigh leaving his lips. He laid his body in bed and you could see his chest that you loved so much rise up and down with his heavy breathing. You slowly walked your way to the bed, losing your lacy panties on the way.

You straddled his lap, grinding ever so slightly on his hard cock before moving upwards. “Be a good boy and put your tongue out” Chand gladly did, leaving the wet muscle on display. You gently sat on his face, your weight being held by your legs that almost gave out as soon as the boy gave your core the first lick. He placed his hands on your thighs, pulling you even more towards his face, a moan dying in your throat when he assaulted you needy clit. “Hm baby… that’s it… you’re doing so good for mistress”.

He quickly stopped his ministrations “I want you to cum on my mouth, mistress. Can I please taste you?” 

“Do you think you deserve it? Do you think I should give you what you want after being such a brat?” he moaned when you pulled his head closer to your pussy by his hair, the vibrations almost sending you to the edge.

“I’ll be a good boy, please. I promise I won't do it anymore. I’ll be mistress’ good baby” his voice was muffled by your skin and his needy tone was music to your ears. You loved when he begged. “So show me what you can do, make me cum” you could feel his smile in between your legs as he pulled you even closer to his, holding your legs like his life depended on it. His tongue was fast and skillful, almost rough against your pussy, alternating the pleasure between your entrance and your clit.

You could feel your orgasm building quickly as he kept playing with your clit, sucking the bud a few times. The moan that left your lips when you finally orgasmed sounded more like a groan and Chan licked your cum like you were his last meal, moaning with the taste of it. “Thank you, mistress” he thanked when you left his face, your juices dripping from his chin. The most beautiful sight you’ve seen.

“You made me cum but I still have to punish you, baby” Chan bit his lower lip when he saw you grab the strap and lube from your toys’ drawer. “Turn around sweetie” you came closer, lowering to his ear “I still wanna fuck your ass until you beg me to stop” you could see his dick twitch by your words.

The boy lifted himself, getting back to the bed, this time getting on fours. The soft and pale skin of his ass in display for you, the patch where you hit him with the whip earlier was still shining a pretty shade of pink, making you smirk to yourself.

You prepared yourself, putting the strap around your legs, the smaller dildo that was placed inside entering your pussy deliciously, making you enjoy the fun as much as the boy in front of you. Your hands caressed his ass cheeks, massaging and squeezing the skin, feeling him move his bottom towards you. “You have no idea how hot you are, baby boy” you landed a slap on his ass, a soft whine leaving his lips. “How delicious your body is” another slap. “How everytime I see you I want to grab you and fuck you senseless, make you whimper and scream my name like the little slut you are” his hips rolled themselves against your strap, his head hanging low. “You’d like that, don’t you?” Chan could only moan and whimper underneath you, his fists balled on the bed sheets. 

He hated to admit, but he loved the power you had on him, the way you made him feel every single time you guys had sex, either it was loving, caring and slow or it was dirty, rough and got him seeing stars. “I couldn’t hear you, princess” you added when you heard a mumble, his words barely forming properly with the anticipation. The tip of the dildo touching ever so gently his rim. “Yes, mistress. I’d love that. Please, fuck me, please” his whines where the cutest and he knew you were weak for them.

You smiled and lubed the dildo and your fingers as well. His breath got stuck on his throat when he felt you gently invade his hole with one of your fingers, stretching him little by little, soon adding a second one. Chan’s moans were music to your ears, getting louder by the time you started pumping your fingers in and out of him, his body coming back to meet with your fingers. “M-more… please… I need your cock so bad… I will be a good boy, please, mistress” you cooed at the way he was begging you. “So needy my princess” you took your fingers out and he hissed at the sudden emptiness but soon being filled by the toy, his body jolting forward but soon coming back to meet your hips, the dildo completely buried inside him. The sight before you making your own walls clench around the dildo inside you. 

Your hips slowly started to move, letting Chan get used to the feeling but soon enough your hips were pistoning inside him, his hips meeting yours halfway, your moans mixing deliciously together and you were sure your neighbours could hear everything perfectly but neither of you cared. “Mi-mistress…. agh…. I’m so close” the boy moaned underneath you, his torso already thrown in the bed, his head pressed on the pillow. “You can cum, baby. Come for your mistress, show me how of a dirty baby slut you are for me” your words combined with the fast motions of your hips made Chan come all over the sheets without even having his dick being touched. The sweet whimpers and moans leaving his lips taking you close too, the scene of him shaking underneath you with the tip of the dildo hitting his prostate over and over again, overstimulating him was a sight to behold and soon enough you came too, slowing your thrusts as you rolled your hips against the dildo inside you. Your hands holding yourself on his hips as you rode your orgasm.

Chan hissed when you left his ass empty, suddenly feeling strange with not having you deep inside him. You went to the bathroom, taking off your strap and leaving inside the sink to be cleaned later and cleaning yourself. You grabbed a wet warm towel and cleaned the wasted boy on the bed, soft giggles leaving him as you rubbed over some extra ticklish parts. You left the towel with the strap on the sink and joined your boyfriend on the bed, hugging him and pulling his body next to yours, his head laying on your naked chest while he mindlessly drew circles on the skin of your tummy. “I love you, Y/N” his voice was low and hoarse from the previous actions. “I love how comfortable you make me feel with my own desires. Thank you for being my girlfriend” he kissed the muscle of your breast and you could feel your heart swell at the sweetness. 

“I love you too, Channie” your lips left a kiss on the top of his head, hugging him closer. “And I’ll give everything you wish as long as you behave and be a good boy” he nodded giggling and kissed your lips. “Now go to sleep, princess, you must be tired” he snuggled against your body and soon he was fast asleep.

You played with his hair, a smile on your own lips as you fell asleep with the love of your life in your arms.

[philliamwrites]

One Fool's Heart [Epilogue]

Fandom: Persona 5

Pairing: Akira / Reader, later: Akira / Akechi (one-sided)

Warnings: age difference, consensual underage romance, implied/referenced self-harm, implied/referenced child abuse, references to depression, unreliable narrator, angst, hurt & comfort, p3 cameos, p4 cameos, no persona 5 royal spoiler

Summary: All you wanted was a nice part time job to scrape by. But if you had known how much of a smug sass-master Akira Kurusu would turn out to be, you’d have thought twice about agreeing to tutor him.

Notes: Part 10 Masterlist

a/n: Jesus Christ. Reposting it here on tumblr makes me go through all the chapters and my heart is still with so much love for this story in particular because I really needed it during a tough time and I’m really happy with how it came out to be. I’m sure this won’t be my last Akira / Reader story but god damn, it does hold a special place in my heart.

[Epilogue]: This Was Then, This Is Now

     The only thing left to do is putting the cake outside the freezer for what you consider is going to be the best Welcome Home Party and should Akira think otherwise he can take the next train and go right back to his home town. You tell Narukami as much while he’s standing on top of a chair, trying to attach garlands on your curtains.

    “I didn’t know you were such a tsundere,” he says, finishing his work. He steps down, nodding when he’s satisfied with how it looks. You feel like it’s a little off and should go more to the right, but he’ll probably clock you if you ask him to get up again, so you just leave it at that and pay his generosity with some well earned mochi filled with orange you picked up at the bakery near the station this morning.

    “Maybe I’m just a little nervous,” you admit. “It’s been almost half a year since we really saw each other.”

    “Just a little?” Narukami’s eyebrows disappear behind his hair. “When I woke up I saw you were online at four a.m. Did you watch tarantula videos again?”

    “Don’t judge me.” You stuff your mouth with more mochi just to be busy with something else. Narukami shakes his head, but he has a hard time not smiling seeing you this happy. And happy you are. Euphoric even. Akira is returning to Tokyo, to his beloved attic above Leblanc. His plan is to work for a year and see if college might be an option after that. Since you’ll finish your studies around the same time, travelling doesn’t sound so bad either. You two will have a lot to talk about once he’s here, which won’t be for another couple of hours since he’ll have to unpack all his stuff in Leblanc.

    “You know, at first I wasn’t really sure you’d manage a long-distance relationship.” Narukami helps himself to another mochi. You have a hard time swallowing the sticky mass in your mouth.

    “How so?”

    “You’re not someone who comes to my mind when I think of the word ‘patient’.”

    “Is this about me blue-balling Akira for a yea—”

    “We are not going there.”

    “Are you telling me you never looked at him and wondered who he bribed to become so god damn pretty?”

    Narukami looks at you as if you’ve thrown something wet in his face. He takes out his phone, tapping away. “I am reporting you for predating on a minor—”

    “He’s been 18 since January,” you mumble a weak objection which Narukami turns into solid ice with his frosty glare.

    “Just keep digging yourself in deeper,” he replies. He stops, eyes fixed on his screen, then sighs. “I can’t believe Nanako’s starting her last year this month.” You peak at his phone, recognising her immediately in her black Yasogami High School uniform. She’s grown into a pretty young lady, her auburn hair falling past her shoulders as she beams at the camera.

    “You sound like a man in his forties.”

    “I sure feel like a man in his forties sometimes.” He gives you a pointed look as if you were the one responsible for that and you pretend to ignore it by wrapping up the remaining mochi. Since he can be as stubborn as you, he just keeps staring until you concede and go take the strawberry cake out of the fridge.

    “Hey, we had tons of fun too? You ever heard of ‘adversity makes two hearts grow fonder?’”

    “It’s ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder,’” Narukami corrects you without mercy. He gives the glazed strawberries a longing look. “Though I guess you’re actually right this time.”

    “We are not going to talk about—”

    “Remember December last year? That was quite eventful.”

    If that isn’t the understatement of the century. First was the reveal of Masayoshi Shido’s crimes. If Akira thought sending a calling card to the most powerful man in Japan was not considered stupid, then you really should have had a serious talk with him about how that word is defined. There must be a guardian angel protecting him because despite all odds he succeeded and saved Japan from a megalomaniac tyrant. All was good for two days—preparations for Christmas were going well, the elections were put on hold to search for someone who might step in as prime minister.

    You were at Inokashira Park on December 24th when the end of the world began.

    The first rain drop falls on your cheek and leaves a wet trail down to your chin. Still engrossed in telling Narukami about Kinoe’s new clinic, you don’t notice anything out of order until his expression changes into horrendous surprise.

    “What?” You frown. “You don’t have to worry, I’m keeping a close eye on Kinoe’s appointments.”

    Instead of answering, he reaches out and wipes the droplet from your chin. It leaves a red smudge on his thumb. Your heartbeat picks up. You can’t remember hurting yourself, there is no pain. He must read the confusion on your face. A second later, his head snaps up to the sky as the floodgates to heaven open and it starts to rain blood, drenching you both in crimson red.

    “What the hell is going on,” you whisper, all colour drained from your face. Narukami jumps to his feet, hands balled into tight fists. There is an intense look in his eyes you’ve never seen before.

    “Come on,” he demands. “We have to get somewhere inside.”

    That is when the first bone breaks out of the earth and rises into the air, connecting to others until they look like ribs looming over the ground. Every appendage is like a crooked finger with sharp claws trying to reach out—only no one else seems to notice them. Couples and families stroll down the path, completely oblivious to the grotesque sight around them.

    A tight grip closes around your hand, pulling you up to your feet. Narukami marches off, each step so big you have to take twice to compensate for his long legs.

    “What is going on?” Your voice flips at the end, shrill and scared. “Yu, what is happening?” Your free hand latches onto his arm, trying to find hold, something secure. Finally Narukami slows down a little. Worry cuts wrinkles so deep into his forehead, you’re sure they’ll stay there forever.

    “I don’t know. But no matter what happens," he orders, not looking back at you. “Don’t let go.”

    He doesn’t need to tell you twice. You wouldn’t let go if your life depended on it—which somehow you feel it does.

    When trees finally make way to tall buildings spearing the sky, you realise it really is the end of the world. The sun is hidden behind red clouds, casting everything in the colour of pain and ruin. They’re swirling in dizzying circles around a tower in the middle of Shibuya, painting the picture of the apocalypse, the wrath of a God bearing down on mankind.

    I had a dream, which was not all a dream. The bright sun was extinguish’d, and the stars / Did wander darkling in the eternal space. You’re pretty sure Lord Byron didn’t think his imagination would become reality.

    Peoples’ screams echo through the streets. It’s Hell on earth, panic and fear rule over the crowd. They trample over each other like frenzied animals in search of safety, ants with no coordination, nowhere safe to go.

    Narukami leads the way to Central Square where confused policemen try to get the situation under control and fail spectacularly at it. Not that you can blame them. They’re panicking as much as the citizen demanding their protection.

    “This is insane.” If this really is your last day on earth, maybe it’s time to atone. Narukami still doesn’t know it was you who broke his MP3-Player by accidentally dropping it to the ground. That is when the first person disappears beside you. You scream. Narukami whirls around, his hold on you turning painful. He pulls you behind him with a quick tug and scans the area. People flee to the underground walkway, tripping over their own feet as they descend the stairs. Children cling to their parents, wheezing, just as confused and frightened as everyone else.

    Thunder lights up the sky in feverish yellow for a second, followed by an infernal rumble that sounds like someone is laughing in the distance—hollow and ghastly.

    Narukami exhales audibly and you look up at him, his broad shoulders the only sight of comfort in a world that is so foreign and grotesque. When you look away, out of the corner of your eyes you imagine seeing a wavering silhouette looming above him in eye-blinding white. When you blink, it’s gone.

    Under his breath, Narukami whispers, “I entreat thee not to leave me. Watch over us, Izanagi-no-Okami.”

    More thunder rumbles above your heads. For a second, the clouds open and show the glimpse of what might compete to one of Maffei’s paintings of righteous angels. Gold glints off a stainless surface in the sky, blindingly striking like a flash of lightning. This thing hanging in the air looks so otherworldly that no words seem sufficient or capable enough to describe it. It looms over Shibuya like an infernal device with wide wings stretching to engulf the world.

    When someone points to the sky, it is not at the apparition of gold and white. “Isn’t that … the Phantom Thieves?”

    You close your eyes, dread sinking to the bottom of your stomach. Please don’t let him be there, please don’t.

    The giant screen facing Shibuya Crossing changes from the black and white static to flashes of an image showing a group of people dressed up in a variety of costumes that in any other situation you’d think belong to a carnival. If they really are the thieves, the reformers of society, then there is only one person you are interested in and you’re able to find him really quickly because only one of them has hair jet-black as the night.

    “Oh God, he’s up there.” Narukami’s arm must turn purple where your fingers are digging into his skin. “He’s not—he’s not thinking about fighting that thing, is he?”

    “If he’s as good as he thinks he is, he’ll be fine. Okay?” Narukami ducks as another gust of wind whips his hair left and right. “But we should get out of here.”

    You wish you could show Akira somehow that you’re here, that you support him. But getting to safety might help him more than flailing like an idiot trying to get his attention. Before you let Narukami lead you to the roofed smoke area, you glance back at the screen. Donned in a long, black coat, he is the definition of the picaresque hero set out to steal hearts. His complete posture is different—squared shoulders, slender, red-gloved fingers clenching and unclenching as he barks orders to his team. The realisation hits you like a punch in the gut, hard and unforeseen. You stop in your tracks and press a hand against your mouth in shock. “Oh no,” you say.

    Narukami immediately turns around, worried. “What’s wrong?”

    “He’s hot in that outfit.”

    He groans your name. “Not the right time.”

    You cling harder onto him, expression serious. “No really, he can step on me with those heels.”

    Narukami shakes his head and pulls you after him, right into another group crowding inside the smoke area. He’s shielding his eyes from the rain, squinting up at the screen. You know him long enough to recognise the glint in his eyes as pride.

    What happened after that always remains a blur, a picture on canvas unable to dry and now smudged beyond recognition. Akira and his friends were somehow able to overcome the danger threatening the world. When the people started cheering for them, led by a blue haired boy in a Shujin uniform you remembered meeting with Akira in the diner on Central Street, you joined, screaming like everyone else until your throat hurt and your lungs went ablaze.

    On that day, December 24th, a God was slain.

***

    After Narukami leaves, you get comfortable on your couch. The goal is to rest just for a little since the excitement of seeing Akira again has kept you up all night. Instead you doze off while watching a few videos explaining the endings of horror movies because you’re unable to watch them on your own. Right on the verge of falling asleep, you hear the door being unlocked. Mind still on this thin line between sleep and wakefulness, the sound is so foreign it makes you bolt up and fall off the couch. A familiar voice calls out if you’re alright.

    “Yep!” Your back hurts. “Got everything under control!”

    Akira peeks into the room, and wow your heart simply decides to go into overdrive and try to break out of your chest even though you saw each other via video call this morning before he went to the train station. He’s stopped wearing glasses pretty early on upon his return and has started wearing his hair slightly shorter but still untamed as always. You two just kind of stare at each other from across the room, afraid to move and unfreeze time.

    Finally, Akira opens his arms. You jump to your feet and fling yourself against him. He easily picks you up, your legs immediately wrapping around his hips. You cling onto him like your dear life depends on it and he doesn’t seem interested in letting you go as well. He makes a strange humming sound against your temple, then proceeds to press dozen kisses all over your face.

    “Uh huh, yes.” You rake your hands through his hair, settle them around his nape, his skin as soft as you remember. “I missed you too.”

    He mumbles something unintelligible and because the entrance area isn’t the best for reunions, he carries you over to the bedroom and drops you unceremoniously on the mattress. It dips under your weight. He straddles your waist, his eyes roam all over your face like he still has to make sure this is real. They settle on your lips, and he smiles a secretive smile that lights a candle in your stomach.

    “You’re not going to take off your jacket?” you ask, fingers itching to continue playing with his hair. It’s much shorter in the back, his curls barely grazing his skin. How you’ve missed it.

    “Nu uh.” He leans down and takes your face in his hands. His breath is hot on your skin when he presses his forehead against yours and tells in a quiet voice, as if not to disturb this moment, how he reached Tokyo a couple of hours ago and brought all his stuff to Leblanc where his friends threw him a first welcome party.

    “And now you’re here,” you finish for him, kissing the corner of his mouth.

    “And now I’m here,” he echoes and nibbles on your bottom lip, then presses his lips against yours. Over and over, one kiss sliding into the next. His mouth grows more demanding but never in hurry because time doesn’t matter. Seconds, minutes stretch into hours, lips slowly turned bruised. Akira changes positions from sitting on top of you to lying next to you, allowing you two to be even closer. Occasionally giving your mouths a break only to whisper how much he’s missed you, how beautiful you are, how he can’t wait to start mornings with you, end evenings with you. His words are as sugary sweet as the cake frosting still sitting in the kitchen and you happily consume each vowel and consonant.

    Hours later, after the sun disappeared behind the horizon, the room is now dipped in darkness. You wake up with your cheek squished against Akira’s back, both of you curled into each other like a human pretzel. He still loves to be the little spoon, making himself much smaller than he is. You carefully untangle your limbs from his, head dizzy and spinning from a nap that took too long and now leaves you questioning what year it is. In the kitchen, the little lamp on your phone blinks, notifying unread messages. It’s the usual criminals, Narukami and Kenji, lately also Minako, though you can’t recall giving her your number after your reunion. Kinoe as well has sent you a picture of the furnishing in his new apartment coming along nicely. He too can’t wait to finally see Akira.

    After the whole day travelling and settling back inside the attic, you decide to let him rest. There are still a few chores you can do around the house. A full laundry basket is waiting to be taken care of and sure, people can doubt that midnight is the best time to do it, but who cares? Rules are meant to be broken.

***

    The small room reeks of wet fabric and mould.

    The steady rumble of the washing machine puts you in a lazy, tired state; the words on the page in front of you merge into a blurry line, the letters shifting and eating each other. Okay, doing laundry and reading the first duty papers for your internship wasn’t one of your brightest ideas, but there’s no turning back now because you forgot your keys on top of the dresser in your entrance hall.

    You’d probably execute it a lot better, were it not for the dim light in the room withholding any possibility to actually see what’s in front of you, and the sound of the washing machine drum rumbling doesn’t help either. Everything would be a lot easier if you could do your laundry in your dormitory, but once again you still don’t feel responsible for contacting the janitor each time they break. Nothing has really changed, has it.

    It’s past midnight. The small, red numbers on the display tell you with very lacking interest 13 minutes are left before you can buzz off. The night is calm, somewhere outside a cat hisses, and despite it all, you feel comfortably at peace. Maybe it's because you’re alone and no one’s talking. Maybe it's because it’s the first time today you can sit and think about nothing at all. Someone tugged your brain into a cosy blanket and accidentally left it there even though there’s all kinds of stuff you should rather focus on. Well, a break is important, you decide, because sometimes it’s better to treat yourself to one before losing one’s mind over all the things still in need to be considered. About to pull your phone out of your pocket, your eyes fix midway on something else.

    In the doorway of the tiny, cramped laundromat stands a tall guy, both hands jammed in his jeans pockets. Akira yawns, sleep still inscribed on his face. He pulls a set of keys from his pockets, jiggling them. “You just leave without these?”

    “No, no, I knew you’d come,” you lie, really glad now that you left him a short note telling him you’d be out here. The dozen calls clearly helped too. “You can’t tell me there’s something more romantic than spending our time here together.”

    Akira gives the room a doubtful once-over. He leans his slim hips against a dryer, and while he is looking around, a wistful curtain falls over his eyes. “I can’t believe a laundry area is where everything started.”

    “It’s a story worth telling.”

    “Seems so.” He puts the keys back in his pocket, but it seems it’s not the only thing he’s hiding inside. You try to get a glimpse, but Akira turns around, uncertainty darting across his face. It’s fleeting though, as if he’s decided there’s no secret worth keeping from you. His hands come back outside, a black chess piece between his slender fingers. It’s the king figure, standing tall as Akira places it on a dryer. You consider it, unable to determine its significance.

    “I got that in the mail a couple of months back,” he explains, grazing the top of it, the crown, with the tip of his finger. “I used it to play chess with Akechi.”

    You need a second to make the connection—staring from the piece up to Akira and back down. At first there’s nothing you could possibly say, until you manage, “Why can’t he just come up like a normal person and apologise?”

    Akira gives a dry huff of laughter. “Because he likes to be dramatic.”

    You’d like to glare at the piece, imagining Akechi in its stead, but it’s hard to recall his face when it’s been so long since you saw him. How must it be for Akira, you wonder. Surely he has missed him—is still missing him judging by how he carries that piece around with him. It’s become a memento, the accumulation of every what-if that in time turns into regret and latches onto the soul until it wears down, grief settling deep into bones where it spreads like weed overgrowing a flower bed that first bloomed in tender affection.

    A slender finger taps against the underside of your chin. You haven’t even noticed Akira crossing the room, the king already back hidden inside his pocket as he holds on to the memento—no, the promise. “I can already tell you’re thinking of unnecessary things.”

    “Maybe I’m just thinking about how I’m already missing your uniform. That turtleneck, hmmmm.” You hook your fingers in his jean’s belt loops and give a single tug, pulling him closer. He lifts a single eyebrow when you sling your arms around him and press your face against his stomach. Mine, mine, you can only think.

    “I can get one,” he offers, rubbing your bare arms to warm them after sitting out here in the cool night.

    “What a about a virgin sweater?” you mumble into his shirt.

    “Now you’re pushing it.”

    The laundry machine starts peeping, sparing you the humility of begging. Akira helps you hauling the wet clothes in a basket and easily carries it like it weighs nothing. On your way out, he pauses in front of Leblanc and looks up at the dark windows.

    You follow his gaze. “How do you feel being back?”

    “Like I never really went away.” He blinks as if in daze, then turns back to you, a mischievous smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Let’s get breakfast here tomorrow.”

    “Curry for breakfast?” A moth flutters past you towards the still lit lamps of a busy bar down the street. You scurry closer to Akira—another moth drawn to a flame. “You do know the way into my heart.”

    “I want to spend the morning with you.” He shifts the basket so he carries it in one hand, and with his other, he laces his fingers together with yours. “And the noon. And the afternoon. And the evening. And the day after.”

    Giddy excitement bubbles inside you. Sometimes reality takes time to set in, and for you it’s a couple of hours before your brain finally catches up on the fact that yes, this present of you and Akira, finally together, is real, and what naturally follows is the future.

    “We could invite Kinoe.” You swing your arms back and forth as you make your way through the narrow streets. “For breakfast. Not the rest of the day.”

    Akira pretends to pond over it. “Is it going to be the test of his approval?”

    “No, that’s going to be with Narukami.”

    “Ah, of course.” He sighs theatrically. “Peace was never an option.”

    “Think your chances are good?”

    “Not in the slightest.”

    It makes you laugh out loud, thinking there’s something Akira might be afraid of.

    “You literally shot God in the face last year.”

    “Uh-huh.”

    “And went to jail.”

    “Yep.”

    “I’m still mad you did that, you know?”

    Akira frowns. “I apologised.”

    “I can still be mad about it.” After his release, you made it pretty clear how much of a dick move you thought it was that instead of hearing the news from him, someone called Alibaba hacked your phone to deliver a message that had pulled the rug right from under your feet.

    There was little time to freak out about it though as they assured you that there was a way to get him out and they and multiple people were already on it.

    I am sure you too can come up with an idea. It is our turn to help him, you still remember Alibaba’s words, confirming your idea that maybe this was another phantom thief. What came next was easy. You spent the new year’s days collecting signatures around campus to demand a wrongly convicted young man to be released. Weeks later, you sent a thick envelope to court, the signatures easily finding their way to the responsible people as the case has gained quite the attention in a small circle that really want Akira out of juvie.

    Three weeks later, he was back where he belonged inside the sacred halls of Leblanc. Only to tell you that he’d soon return to his hometown.

    This boy is just a rollercoster of emotions.

    Which also means it never gets boring with him.

    “I said, I’ll make it up to you.” Akira tugs at your hand. You round the convenience store. Inside, the clerk is busy scanning the bento boxes and coffee cans of businessmen currently on break during their all-nighter. “Are you listening?”

    “Always.” You blink innocently. “You said we should make out. I highly approve of that.”

    “Oh?” Mischief has found its home in Akira’s voice. He looks down at you with an expression that suggests he has no problems to make good on that promise right here and now. But then his eyes dart over your shoulder and his expression softens.

    “You think we could get us a pot someday?” he asks. You blink, trying to figure out if this is a new way of flirting. When you follow his eyes, you see he’s been looking on a sign showing different ingredients on sale … that yes, usually go into a hot pot.

    “Hot pot in March?”

    “Well, it brings people together,” he says, swinging back and forth on his heels like he wants to bump into you. “And there’s a lot of people I want you to meet.”

    You look back at the convenience store, considering what else you two might get that’s missing in your apartment when the thought that this, something as simple as thinking about what you two should buy to share, means that you’re starting to build something you’ve been longing for for a long time, and that knowledge unfolds something carefully hidden inside you that you’ve put away since your last conversation with your father.

    The emotion is so raw, you’re rendered speechless for a moment, unable to swallow past the lump in your throat.

    Akira carefully says your name, the question in his voice asking what’s wrong. You shake your head, tightening your grip on his hand. “Let’s get that pot tomorrow,” you say. “And everything else we need.”

    “Sure.” Finally you two move on, though Akira has slowed down to a leisurely stroll. “I like it when you say ‘we.’”

    “I’m sure there is more you’ll like me saying,” you say, ready to count I love you and I need you off your fingers to get a reaction out of him, when he, without batting an eyelash, says, “For example ‘Yes, Akira,’ and ‘Let’s do it again.’”

    Hand still half-raised, you snap your head towards him, feeling the heat creep up your face. He takes in your embarrassment, visibly proud he came up with that but past the mischief glinting in his eyes, you can easily read the challenge in them as well.

    You raise your chin, accepting. “We’ll see about that.”

    “Ah, there it is again.” Akira closes his eyes for a moment, content like a cat sleepily blinking into the sun. “We.”

    “Yes, we,” and there you kiss his knuckles, the skin still warm against yours, “should head home.” There it is, four letters forming a word that has been a stranger to you up until now, but together with Akira, you’re happy to rediscover it.

give your heart and soul to charity 'cause the rest of you, the best of you honey, belongs to me

__________________________________________________

[moeyy-writes]

Second Chance

Zak Bagans x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, arguing (nothing violent), mention of break-ups, happy ending (with fluff!). Oh, and a super cheesy, silly title. Let me know if I’m missing anything.

Word Count: 3.3k

My Master List

Zak lifted his head as a purple glimmer caught his eye. The room around him was loud, and the lights were flashing in a nauseatingly rapid rhythm. Why the hell did Aaron drag him to a place like this, especially when they had a lockdown the next night? He should be resting and reserving his strength, not wasting his time in some random Vegas nightclub.

It’s a good distraction, Aaron had told him. Although the music wasn’t bad, it wasn’t exactly Zak’s scene. Not anymore, anyway. He preferred less people, and more intimate conversation.

But, right now, he was mentally thanking his best friend for dragging him to this god-awful place as his eyes lifted to a familiar face in not-so-familiar clothing.

“Y/N?” He greeted you, his eyes scanning up and down your glittery purple dress. The deep cut accented your curves better than anything he had seen, and the length was shorter than he ever imagined you wearing.

Not that he was complaining one bit. You looked beautiful.

“Uh, hiya Zak.” You glanced around. “What the hell are you doing here?”

There was no way in hell Zak was there on purpose. He hated places like that, you knew that. But, you remembered seeing Aaron a few minutes earlier, which meant the other paranormal investigator wasn’t far behind.

It had been two weeks since the two of you had talked, and a day less since you had resigned from the show. The last time you talked to the blue-eyed lead investigator, he had admitted to you that he had more than platonic feelings for you. So, you ran.

It wasn’t that you didn’t share those feelings. No, it was quite the opposite. You had been harboring feelings for the older man for at least the past year, probably longer. But, there was no way he truly felt the same way. You knew Zak wasn’t the kind of person to stick around in a relationship for long, and you didn’t want to be the latest victim.

Zak glanced around, as if he was desperately searching for his partner in crime. But, the older friend was nowhere to be found. So, he relaxed his shoulders and locked his gaze on yours.

“Aaron dragged me here as a ‘distraction’. I guess that failed miserably, thank god.” He smiled sweetly, then his expression turned serious. “I’ve been calling you for days. I left voicemails. We thought something bad happened to you.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. You didn’t want to be there either. Honestly, you had no idea why you were there. Distraction was the best word you could come up with. You were hoping to pick up someone to keep your mind off the man you wanted, but knew you could never have.

“Well, I’m alive, and I’m probably not going to be in town for much longer. I took a job in California. My condo there is going to be about a third the size and the same price as the one I have here, but it looks like a nice area.” You peered away, unable to look him directly in the eye. But, even in your peripheral vision, you could see the pain on his face.

“You’re moving? Wow. I guess I never saw that coming.” His voice was softer, almost hard to hear against the pounding music. His shoulders sank more in defeat, making your stomach ache. You knew he felt something for you, but it wouldn’t last. He’d get over you just as fast as the others you had seen come and go.

“Yeah, it’s a good gig. It’s with a news station outside of Sacramento. I’ll be editing their videos before they air.” Zak’s eyes remained wide and painful. You had been friends for years and had been on the show for about half a decade. So, it was obviously a shock to him when you resigned. It was a shock for everyone.

Billy, Aaron, and Jay had also left you multiple voicemails asking where you were and if you were okay. Hell, even Dakota reached out to see what was going on. You knew they loved you and cared, but you weren’t one for goodbyes, and you definitely didn’t want to think about Zak anymore.

“Y/N, we miss you. The last investigation wasn’t the same without you.” He stared down at his feet. “You didn’t even give an explanation. We thought you were in some kind of trouble.”

You narrowed your gaze. “Zak, don’t be stupid. You know exactly why I left.” Your body tensed. Was he really that naïve? Or was he in denial?

“What?” You rolled your eyes.

“Zak, what was our last conversation about?” You crossed your arms over your chest. He wasn’t this dumb. He wasn’t dumb at all. Sure, he had a dorky sense of humor, but he was brilliant. He had to know what was really going on.

His eyes widened again, this time in realization. “Wait, you left because I told you that I love you?” Bingo.

“Zak, do you know how many women I’ve heard you say that to, just for you to toss them to the curb within a few months? You haven’t had the best track record over the years I’ve known you.” You sighed in frustration. “You love ‘em and leave ‘em pretty quickly. I didn’t want to be another statistic.”

Zak slammed his back into the cement wall behind him. His gaze left you, hazing over with an emotion you couldn’t quite recognize. His tight, black shirt hugged his chest as he crossed his arms.

“You think I picked you as a target or something? Y/N, I wouldn’t have told you I loved you after five years if I didn’t mean it! I wouldn’t risk our entire friendship over something like that!” Zak’s chest heaved as his voice got louder. “I know I’ve had several girlfriends since I’ve met you, and I know none of them ever turned out to be much of anything. But, I didn’t know them for more than a week before things progressed. I didn’t have the time to get to know them like I know you.”

You clenched your teeth as you listened to his words. Oh, so he loved you because he knew you long enough to realize you weren’t after his money and fame? Great.

“Zak, why the fucking hell didn’t you say anything before? You’ve had five years to realize your feelings for me, to say something. We’ve traveled all over the country together for years, and we live within four miles of each other. Why are you just saying something now?” You could feel the frustration, and heartbreak, washing over you.

“Because it didn’t seem like you were going to be the one to say it.” You blinked as you took a half-step back.

“Excuse me?”

Zak smirked, pissing you off even more. “You think I didn’t notice they way you looked at me when you thought I wasn’t looking? Or how your hand lingered on my shoulder a little too long while we looked over evidence at Nerve? Y/N, I’m not blind.”

Shit. Shit, fuck, damn. He wasn’t blind at all. And, you were sure that the others saw it too. You had flirted with him for as long as you could remember, to the point that it became second nature.

“I didn’t say anything for the same reason I left. I didn’t want to be another Zak Bagans statistic.”

Zak unfolded his arms and stared at you. His eyes were dark, but not with anger, but pain. He tilted his head ever so slightly as he took a step forward.

“Y/N, do you really think I’m that much of a monster? After all of these years, spending weeks at a time with each other, do you really think that I’m incapable of loving someone?” Your heart was about to pound out of your chest. No, you didn’t think he was a monster. Hell, you loved him for how caring and kind he was to everyone around him. He may have carried a cocky, bad-boy persona, but he was really a complete marshmallow under those muscles.

“I don’t think that. I just saw a pattern and didn’t want to be a part of it.” Zak just nodded at your words, leaning back against the wall. You could see his thoughts forming behind his eyes. His face was surprisingly soft, considering his obvious anger.

Zak nodded as he sighed. “Y/N, do you know what the problem was with those other girls?” He let out a sigh. “They weren’t you—”

“Oh, don’t give me that cliché crap, Zak.” You rolled your eyes, unable to contain a frustrated chuckle.

“I mean it. I know it sounds cheesy, but you know me. That’s my humor. And, that’s my entire point. You know me, my humor, and almost everything that swims around in my weirdo brain. And, for a while, I think that scared me. But, now I know that’s something special. You get me like those other girls didn’t. I mean, you know me in ways most other people in my life don’t.”

He wasn’t wrong. When he needed someone to talk to, and Aaron was busy, he called you. He knew you’d give him an ear at three in the morning and would help him with just about anything. And, until now, it was a two-way street. He was there for you whenever you needed someone.

And that was what set you apart from the others. You bothered to know him. You quickly realized that he reached out to you even when he was in a relationship. He didn’t go to whoever he was dating at the time because they didn’t listen like you did.

They didn’t care like you did.

“Fuck,” you muttered. “Zak, I—” Tears threatened in your eyes. It was you who was blind all this time. And now you had pushed away the man you loved when he said he loved you back.

You turned away from him, squeezing your eyes shut. Who cared if your mascara was waterproof or not? You didn’t care what you looked like, or where you were anymore. All you could think about was the pain in your chest.

“I’m sorry, Zak. I have to go—”

“No! I’m not letting you walk away again. Y/N, I know you didn’t mean to hurt me. I get it. I know what you saw.” Zak reached out, gently taking you upper arm.

“It’s what I didn’t see that’s killing me now,” you muttered, nearly drowned out by the music.

Zak turned you back towards him, smiling sweetly at you. “I know. I get it. I think we both do.” He glanced around the packed room. “How about we take a step outside so we don’t lose our voices,” he suggested with his award-winning smile.

It was his softness that sent you over the edge. You let the tears fall as they nodded, allowing your best friend to lead you out of that bustling club and onto the quieter, cooler sidewalk outside.

It took you a few minutes to form another coherent thought; your mind was reeling. Zak wasn’t the monster, you were. Not that you actually thought he was a monster, but this whole situation made you feel like the biggest nightmare of a person one could ever think up. You had to just run from a scary situation instead of being a grown ass woman and expressing your fears. You had been able to openly talk about all sorts of emotions on the show when you were with the guys. But, when it came to actual adult emotions, you ran.

Very mature.

And now you probably skewed the way Zak thought of you for the worse, and there was probably no coming back.

Zak leaned down in attempt to meet your tear-filled gaze. “Y/N, tell me what you’re feeling right now.” You sucked in a whimper and squeezed your eyes shut, letting a new stream of tears free.

“I feel like a fucking idiot. I feel like I royally screwed up and I’ve ruined something I wanted for years, but never thought could happen. I-I don’t know. I don’t know what to think now.” Your voice trembled. You were tired of trying to look tough. It was too exhausting.

“You aren’t an idiot. You were scared, and you weren’t seeing the whole picture. I get that. And I forgive you, not that I really think that I need to forgive you for anything.” His hand cupped your cheek and lifted your head up. “This whole thing was a huge misunderstanding.”

“Definitely. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me most, Zak. I did what those other girls did when you needed someone. I’m so sorry—”

“No, don’t be. I told you, Y/N, I understand. Fear makes us do stupid thing. Out of everyone in the world, I know you know that.” He sucked in a long breath, then let out a shaky sigh. “I love you, Y/N. I do. I don’t just throw those words around. I love you so much, and I have for a long time. If you want to move to California, I get it.”

Shit. Fucking shitty fuck. You clenched your teeth. What the hell have you done?

“I—well—not really. Shit, Z, I really fucked up.” Your mind raced as your breathing quickened. Your head started to feel funny, but you tried to keep yourself grounded. “I mean, I haven’t sold my condo yet, and I can withdraw from my offer on the one in Sacramento. And I can decline the job. But, I left the show. I don’t have a job anymore.” Your words came out in panicked breaths as your hands clenched into fists.

Zak smirked. “Well, if you do want to stick around, I think I can pull a few strings and get you your old job back. I mean, we haven’t replaced you or anything. It’s not like we could if we tried.” You nodded slowly, taking everything in.

“Zak, I’m so sorry,” you muttered as you reached out, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. His arms quickly supported your waist, cradling you against his chest. He gently rubbed circles with one hand on your back.

“Hey, shhh, it’s okay. Y/N, it’s alright.” You nodded against his chest, repeating the mantra in your head. After a few minutes, you started to believe it. Everything was going to be okay. You were there, and you just happened to run into Zak that night. Not that you were much of a believer in fate, but that had to mean something.

After a while, you pulled away from him. You peered up at him, fully aware that you had proven your mascara was less that waterproof.

“I’m sorry Zak.” You nibbled nervously on your lower lip.

He just shook his head. “I know, Y/N. You don’t need to keep saying it. I told you, I forgive you, not that I blame you for anything.” He reached head hand out. “So, are you staying after all?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m staying.” Zak’s smile stretched across his lips.

“Good. And what about us?” Your heart raced like it did just a few weeks ago, when he admitted his feelings for you. But, you sure as fuck weren’t going to run this time.

“I love you too, Zak. You already know that. I know I’ve done a piss-poor job of showing that over the last few weeks. I have some catching up to do.” You finally smiled under the drying tears. Zak chuckled, shaking his head.

“Bullshit. You’ve done enough over the years. No catch up needed, just a little Dijon mustard.” You blinked for a moment, then busted into laughter. He could never pass up a pun, no matter the circumstance.

“Oh my god, Zak,” you chuckled. “Really? Now?” You couldn’t stop laughing, which only made him smile wider.

“Hey, I made you smile. I call that a win.” He wrapped his arms around you again, causing your heart to speed up yet again. This time, you welcomed the feeling, loving the way you felt at home in his arms.

You glanced up at Zak and sighed. “Well, I guess there is no point in either of us being here, huh? I mean, I look like a fucking mess, and well, I guess my original plan is no longer happening.” Zak raised in eyebrow and huffed a laugh.

“Wait, what was your original plan?” His face tensed as he came to a realization. “Never mind, I don’t want to know. Either way, you look stunning.” You blushed under the streams of black mascara you were sure were plaguing your face.

“Thanks, Zak.”

You glanced around, eyeing the door as people came and went around you. You had totally forgotten about Aaron. Had Zak driven there with him? Or was Zak Aaron’s ride home?

“I hope Aaron is okay in there,” you mentioned casually, not wanting to sound too nosy. Zak’s eyes widened.

“Oh, man. He probably thinks I either went home with someone or got lost. Probably the latter.” Zak reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. His screen was littered with notifications, probably from Aaron. Zak rolled his eyes. “Yep, he thinks I’m lost.” You both laughed.

“Did he drive you here? Is he okay to drive home?” Zak shook his head.

“Nah, we got a cab. He’s probably loaded. We should fine him before he hurts himself.” Zak and you rolled your eyes in sync, then laughed. He was probably right, there was no way Aaron and alcohol were ever a good mix, especially when he was alone.

“Good idea.” You took Zak’s arm and made your way for the door.

Zak paused a few steps from the door. “Did you drive here?” You shook your head. “Do you want to ride with us? We can go back to my place for a while and just, I dunno, do something boring. If you want to talk more, we can do that. Or, we can just watch a movie or whatever. I just know that I don’t like being alone after emotional situations like this, and I know you’re the same way.” He placed his hand over yours, which rested softly on his arm. “No pressure.”

He knew you all too well.

“Yeah, that actually sounds great. I wouldn’t mind a movie in your fancy shmancy theater.” You grinned as Zak chuckled.

“Deal. I don’t know what my inventory situation is on popcorn, but we’ll survive.” You nodded in agreement, then went to take a step towards the door, but Zak gently stopped you. You turned to him, raising a brow.

“Zak?” He just smiled at you for a moment.

“One more thing.” You should have seen this coming. He reached out and took your jaw gently in his other hand, then leaned in, pressing his lips to yours.

You gasped as you made contact, but quickly eased into it. He lingered, letting out a low laugh, before pulling away. You followed him as he leaned back, not wanting to separate just yet.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” Zak whispered. You rolled your eyes and shoved his chest. He truly was the king of cliches.

“Oh my god, you cheeseball! One serious moment is all I ask of you!” you teased, before taking his arm again.

“You’ll get one of those at some point, hopefully.” You rolled your eyes for the millionth time.

“Way to keep me on my toes, handsome,” you retorted. Then, you followed him back into the club in search of your friend.

Thanks for reading! Feedback is appreciated! <3

[setsuntamew]

So, Persona 5 Royal, huh?

Full disclosure: I had gotten about halfway through November on Wednesday and finished it out Saturday night, which took uhhh about 65-70 hours? Some of that was sitting there waiting for the PS4 controller to recharge or listening to music in the Thieves Den while eating, but I still feel like I need to own up to how extremely bad I am at making good decisions with my life XD

MOVING ON, THOUGH, HOLY SHIT. P5 was a very good game, but Royal’s additions & changes made it incredible. I like the ending way more; I think it’s more emotionally fulfilling and meaningful, especially with everyone’s more defined future plans. Definitely felt like everyone had more growth in the end!! Which is something I’d always thought P5 was lacking.

Snip snip for spoilers and the fact that this post ended up being too damn long, oops! the last third is basically Akechi feels and analyzing his ending, so......yeah XD

Part of why I plowed through SO much of Royal in so little time is....Akechi XD Like okay, this is my stupid fandom blog, I can be excited about him all I want!!! I got to Sae’s Palace and just....I couldn’t put it down. @dragonofeternal​ and I ordered an embarrassing amount of takeout instead of cooking because we just had to see how everything with Maruki and the third semester was gonna go down. I’d already been dying along the way because Akechi’s confidant dates are so good, I just. Fuck!!!

Also, look, for the entirity of Shido’s boss fight and the depths of Mementos/Yaldabaoth/etc, we’d look at each other every few minutes and just be like AKECHI SHOULD BE HERE WITH US, HE DESERVES TO GET HIS VENGEANCE ON HIS SHITTY DAD AND FORCED DESTINY!!!!!

December 24th had to be the longest god damn day in Akira’s life because like. Final exam grades are posted in the morning! He goes to school and then dives into hell, crawls his way back out, briefly dies by fading from human cognition, fights an actual fucking god, and then....ends up dissociating in Shibuya until Sae shows up and is like “oh hey thanks for everything you did, please sign up for being arrested now.” And while he’s still reeling from that, Akechi walks up to take his place, like some kind of bullshit knight in shining armor schtick, and leaves no room for conversation.

AND THEN WE HAVE TO GO ON A DATE

I romanced Hifumi this time around, because I wanted Akria to bang a girl who is just so incredibly out of his league, but....it’s not necessarily that I forgot I was dating someone, more that it had been *so many hours of plot* that I was emotionally exhausted. Like, Hifumi texted me and I was just like. Right. RIGHT. It’s still Christmas Eve, somehow. I was at *school* this morning. The whole world merged with Mementos briefly in the middle of this, Akechi is somehow alive, and I guess I’m going on a date now????

I do appreciate how many “god I’m just dissociating my way through this” conversation options there were for the date, tbh. I feel bad though, I really like Hifumi, but I feel like Akira is not giving a date his full emotional attention at that specific time. It feels a bit like emotional whiplash, more so than I remember it being in P5? Maybe it’s because I played it 4 years ago and there wasn’t the added emotional weight of Akechi’s reappearance, but it was just like....a lot, in Royal.

AND THEN THE NEW YEAR HAPPENED. I’d been spoiled on large parts of the third semester, mostly because Royal’s been out for a year already and I’m too curious for my own good. I’d also somehow lied to myself, saying I didn’t have time to play another Persona game right now, and yet here I am, 171 hours of game play within exactly a month, kicking myself for not knowing how deep in Persona hell I would get XD

Which is to say, as soon as the new year started, it felt I was drowning in anxiety. I knew something was wrong, I knew they were in a false reality, but knowing that sure as fuck didn’t make it easier to go through. If anything, it was somehow worse, knowing that it was all gonna come crumbling down, but I didn’t yet know the exact details, only the broad strokes of it. Just. Every time someone talked about something that was wrong, my heart would clench.

God, I’m so fucking tired, I pulled an all-nighter on Friday so I could get through Royal before having to work on Sunday, and I am feeling it right now. Life tips: don’t do what I do XD

Every moment with Akechi felt like borrowed time, at least for me, because I knew what was coming. I spent so much time in Mementos with him; I ended up putting just him and Akira in my party and plowing through everything, including trouncing the Reaper over and over just for the hell of it. I got his ultimate weapons, I spent so many nights in the jazz club with him that he ran out of dialogue options, and I still took him back for more. I accidentally failed to EVER trigger Sumire’s Showtime because every fight was just Akira and Akechi against the world, because fuck it, I’m playing this for fun!! If I want to play with them in stupid costumes and no one else in the party, I’m gonna. Royal did such an incredible job giving Akechi more depth and development: it was all I could hope for, and it made it that much fucking worse to know what was in store for him.

Somehow, I thought it would be harder for me to make the decision to refuse Maruki’s deal, since fuck, fuck what I wouldn’t give for Akechi to be alive???? But I barely hesitated, only really stopping because I had to emotionally brace myself for it, because a reality where he can’t carve out his own fate would be a disrespect to everything their relationship is built on.

I have a whole shit ton of feelings about post-beating Maruki but they’re basically all Akechi related meta so somehow they ended up at the end of this post, I’m sorry XD

I understand that they had to keep the going to jail bit because 1) Akechi didn’t turn himself in, Akira did and 2) it leads to the final events of the game, but let me just say....the emotional roller coaster of fighting Maruki, almost failing multiple times, waking up in jail, the Phantom Thieves & friends getting Akira out of jail, celebrating that, and then getting thrown into Valentines Day was a LOT for my heart to take. Once again, didn’t forget I had a girlfriend, just got too invested in the plot to really be thinking about her. It’s less than two weeks after the fight with Maruki and somehow, everything is supposed to be okay????

The scene with everyone talking about their future plans is such good character growth, though. Everyone feels like they’ve truly grown and are making decisions that, even though they might be painful or hard at times, are ultimately very important to them. It’s a really good contrast to the “almost everyone goes to Shujin and they all stay in Tokyo forever without doing anything for themselves” Maruki’s perfect reality bad end.

Standing in the Underground Mall on White Day, being told I had to get flowers but finally being able to have control of Akira again was....so bittersweet. The fact that the location of the date is the aquarium is a low fucking blow, and I almost threw the controller across the room I was so upset. Like. THE AQUARIUM IS UNLOCKED BECAUSE AKECHI HAS TICKETS HOW FUCKING DARE SOJIRO SUGGEST IT LIKE MY HEART ISN’T STILL ACHING????? God, speaking of that: The fucking god damn Featherman video game tore my heart out because I ended up playing it WHILE WORKING ON SHIDO’S PALACE and I cried a ton about Gray Pigeon because of course they had to dig the emotional knife in even deeper!! Just fuck me up, it’s fine, I’m just dying!!!!!!!!!!!!

I ended up scrolling through his texts to find the group chats that still had Akechi in them, and fuck, it was a LOT. Like. Maybe it’s because I’m too invested in the two of them, but it was probably the worst emotional whiplash of the whole game. Like, how am I supposed to go play happy with anyone while staring at texts from a reality built of lies? It wasn’t real but the proof lives on in his phone and his heart, and I’m still fucked up over it.

HOWEVER. FUCKING. I SPENT LIKE HALF AN HOUR BEING EMOTIONALLY COMPROMISED ABOUT ALL THIS AND THEN DISCOVERED THE BASTARD STILL HAD ALL HIS EQUIPMENT, INCLUDING THE ULTIMATE MALE ARMOR!!! He returned his shit after Sae’s Palace even though he thought Akira was dead, but this time it didn’t get fucking returned to my inventory, so he must have fucking run off with all his shit!!!!!!! Why the hell did none of it get returned if he was never alive in the true reality? Like I know it'll be returned for a new game+ but I like to nitpick game mechanics for story reasons, because one of the things I love most about video games is the experience of them as another layer to the story. The texts from the third semester shouldn’t exist anymore, since they never really existed, but there they are. Akechi insisted that he has a gap in his memory after Shido’s Palace up until seeing Akira on Christmas Eve, but who can say that wasn’t related to Maruki tampering with reality or some other Persona-related reason?

I mean. I got the full and complete True Ending; I saw him in the train station. If that’s not Akechi, then who the fuck is it? Atlus made sure to put the work in to make him a part of not just the main story but also, especially, the third semester, and for what....to have his final time on screen be as the butt of the joke, squished underneath everyone in the Mona-copter? As much as it hurts, his end in Shido’s Palace matters; it fits his character and he gets to go out fighting- carving his own path, really. In Royal, barring the tiny glimpse of someone who’s probably him in the train station, the last we see of him is when he watches Joker let go of the rope to finish off Maruki. I know we got the heart to heart where Akira agrees to reject Maruki’s deal and Akechi insists that he’d rather be dead than live in a false reality, but.....no one even says goodbye to him. It’s tragic, it’s painfully lonely, but it doesn’t feel right for such a major character.

Also, as undignified as it is, for the first time ever, Akechi looks like he actually belongs in the Phantom Thieves in that final moment. He’s never been the butt of their jokes before; they always kept him at arms’ reach and he took himself too seriously to be included, but for that brief moment, it really felt like he was part of their group. He stopped lying about himself for their last month together, and so even if they don’t all like him, they can make that decision based on the truth, instead of layers of lies. His death is all the more tragic for this; a life cut short just when he’s finally finding a place he belongs. But his death was already painful; why make it so, so much worse?

Final thing: I’m gonna be spending a ton of time in the Thieves Den trying to find Akechi’s opinions on everything, but also....hey. HEY. What do those six stars that Jose (probably?) painted on the wall mean? Is it just a reference to Persona 6???? LIKE????? I HAVE QUESTIONS. SO, SO MANY QUESTIONS!!!!

Anyway, I’ve gotta go cry into my Starbucks and desperately try to focus on actually doing my job at work, but I loved Royal deeply and cannot wait to drown in it ;w;

[nightswithkookmin]

With the grammy bomb im more than certain that there is a strain between jikook. They do interact but in a way that is so aloof. Their habitual gravitating towards one another doesnt happen anymore. And im talking about all the recent stuff from october onwards. Jk purposefully rear towards other members and i find jimin to be only open towards namjoon. All of his other interactions on cam are to make sure that everything is fine between him and others. And jk purposefully ignores or avoids jimin and doesnt have that unrestrainable affection towards him anymore. I say all this as a longtime jikook supporter. Honestly even if they had their 'fighting' periods i have never seen jk this dismissive. At least jimin isnt as affected as before. I dont understand how no supporter is admitting the obvious distance of jk.

Why are you being mean to me though😭

Please read my blogs. I think I have talked about this topic several times now.

May be I spoke 'too soon' before the loud moments that make these things obvious to most but still, I've addressed it nonetheless.

I feel if I respond to this, I'd just be repeating myself over and over at this point and frankly it gets boring for the people that read me- I think. Lol. I mean, once I start I never shut up. Lmho. So sorry in advance.

I agree with everything you've said, as well as all the observations you've made. I'm with you on it. Except, you made no definitive conclusions I could agree on, rebut, or share an opinion on. There is a strain on their relationship..... therefore? Lol.

I don't mean this in a rude way. I just don't think it's enough to point that out without drawing conclusions- unless you are simply taking notes of those moments? Or are you concluding that the strain is a sign Jikook are fighting, having problems or that they have broken up?

Not every tension between Jikook is a bad thing if you ask me or even as a result of them having issues in their relationship. This is something I keep regurgitating in my blogs. Not to say they don't have issues, they do. Hell, I get dragged by my roots on these streets for saying they fight, or even break up sometimes like any real couple would. They are real and they have real couple's problems sometimes too like any regular joe.

I'm glad you pointed out though, that Jimin doesn't seem as affected by JK's 'dismissive' attitude as before. Shouldn't that tell you that is a sign there is nothing wrong with their relationship this time around? Jikook is not one sided. JK isn't the only party to their relationship, neither is Jimin. They have an equal and sometimes opposite reaction to each other. One person's attitude or change in attitude tends to produce a ripple effect on the other. In my opinion.

If JK were to be 'dismissive' at all, it would emotionally and physically impact Jimin and he would have a reaction to it like he did in run 106. Compared to this, he didn't seem at all affected by JK's 'attitude' just as you've pointed out.

As I said a while ago, I honestly don't think or believe they are fighting or that they are broken up either- not to me anyway. Lol. I mean you could still pretty much see the intimacy between them in that footage. Jikook don't need to engage in skinship or overt and loud interactions to show they are intimate. And most times their overt and loud skinship and interactions are devoid of intimacy. That's the thing about intimacy, you can't fake it or hide it.

Jimin turning towards JK in his fit of excitement is a sign of intimacy between them regardless of whether he actually hugged JK or not. Then later on the couch, you could see him yearning for JK.

There were three people in that room- may be more if you count staff and yet JK was the only one Jimin seemed to want an answer from.

He was the one Jimin was emotionally inclined towards. The one who's comfort and affection he sought after- bless his heart, he hit his head on some solid rock knees and everything trying to pursue his need for physical closeness and affection from JK. If they were broken up or fighting, he wouldn't go to JK for his emotional needs.

He could try and 'interact' with JK, do the fanservice bit with him but he wouldn't go to him with his emotional needs- that would be inappropriate and unfair to JK. Jimin is an emotionally intelligent guy and he has a lot of thoughts and consideration for people's feelings and he is well aware of his limits and just how much he can push or get away with.

And I cite his Log with JK, where he announced he had started developing feelings for JK and then turned to JK to ask if he was ok with him saying that much on camera.

Thus, if he is emotionally 'gravitating' towards JK then it's indication there is a level of intimacy and a mutual understanding between them that JK fulfills an emotional need and ought to fulfill that emotional need for him.

And yes, I agree. Him hesitating when he wanted to hug JK is a sign there is something stressing their dynamics which is something I pointed out when that Grammy reaction video first came out. I knew something was stressing their dynamic but I couldn't figure out what because it was a very short video with not much going on in there.

The behind the scenes however, chilee. Lol.

I mean if you consider the fact JK went from moving a distance to console Jimin when he was crying on stage during the October ON:E concert, and you look at all the moments we've had from their overt flirting in 2021 season's greetings, the sexual innuendos in the BE behind scenes video, JK sniffing Jimin's hair in the Be unboxing video to that moment on the couch when Jimin hit his head on JK's knees- that shit look like it hurt. Damn. JK what is your knees made of! Lmho.

I am uncomfortable discussing a Jikook era or phase when it's on going on. I like to simply take note of certain moments and discuss them in post by reconstructing the timeline to place content in its rightful timeframe.

I can only share with you my working theory on such moments and for the most part, like I said previously I feel Jikook- especially JK is having issues with the company. Perhaps because the company stumbled on something they weren't supposed to see.

As for Jikook's personal development, I think we all saw this development coming, didn't we? After JM's birthday fiasco? I think I hypothesized at the time that whoever was in the 'wrong' in that situation would come swinging hard on their Jikook agenda in the aftermath. And with that whole GCF Tokyo reference, signing his name to JK's name at the pop up, the stealing looks at JK during interviews, checking him out left right left, trying to make Jk 'jealous' with RM at the Be press con red carpet, it's not hard to figure out who did what in that birthday situation.

I plan on writing a blog on this very topic, because I've received quite a few Asks about my thoughts on JK outing Jimin, military service and others that I find intriguing and want to discuss but I also want to discuss Vminkook dynamics, Jikook boundaries and I don't know which one to get into first. When I'm torn between options I end up not making a choice at all. Lol.

All I can say in regards to Jikook and their on going 'situation' is that- I love it. Lol. I love their dynamics, I love where they are at in their love journey, I love where they are heading. Jikook is just beautiful in every sense of the word.

I love what JK is doing. I love where he has gotten my bias to- which is confronting himself and figuring out what he wants from their relationship. Because, honestly you can't have your cake and eat it. It just doesn't work that way.

What you are seeing is just JK asserting himself against Jimin I'm afraid. It's the push and pull thingy all over again.

I keep talking about 'the boy in love with Jungkook' being a facade and persona Jimin hides behind to love JK and most people don't understand.

JK's persona is not the boy in love with Jimin. It's the boy cold and shy who rejects Jimin- well at least that was the persona he had in their early dynamics around debut.

He has since shed that persona and the bold, fearless, assertive JK we see on the screens is him choosing to unapologetically express his love and feelings for Jimin. And jimin enjoys that.

But you take a look at Jimin, and you don't see that drastic change in his persona or the way he expresses himself with JK- I mean let's call a spade a spade.

Do I think Jimin loves JK? Absolutely. Do I think he is being authentic in the way that he expresses those feelings to JK on camera? Only to an extent.

It's obvious who Jimin is to JK or even the way he expresses himself and his love for JK is slightly different off camera than the persona we see on our screens. For one, clearly JK is not used to seeing Jimin prioritize others over him or be overly affectionate with others besides him. I mean it's been seven years. Ten, if you count the periods before. You'd think JK would get used to JM doing skinship with others or showing affection for the others especially since they've lived together over half of the time and yet here we are, frying pans away from the apocalypse whenever any member breaths near Jimin. Damn JK. Lmho.

Do I think his persona is slightly exaggerated? Yes. But I also think JM downplays his love for Jk with his 'Mr I'm available' personality, his Kumbaya attitude, and his I'm just a nice guy on the block character, which often leads to people questioning whether or not he treats JK different from the group. Don't get me wrong JK does this too.

Jimin loves JK. But at this point the question is is he expressing that love in the way that meets JK's emotional needs? Is he allowing JK to love him and express the love he feels for him in the way that makes him happy?

I think that's what the birthday fiasco is all about.

If you don't want JK openly showing and expressing his love for you in a way that he wants to and in a way that holds meaning to him and makes him feel fulfilled as well in the relationship then what is the point of him holding on to the glass closet?

Two can play that game. Lol.

It's JK's needs above the groups and I feel he is putting it right up there next to JM's needs because they are both valid.

You should have seen JK's face when Jimin decided tell the truth about his location on September 1st in that BB press interview.

I remember pointing out that when JM started that narration with the first person pronoun he was going for a well curated narrative perhaps one the group had agreed on prior to avoid confirming his location on the JK's birthday like they had tried to do during the VLive but dropped that and went with the honest truth the moment he started talking about being with Jk and using 'we' instead of 'I' in his speech.

I'm glad the interviewer from his Weverse magazine interview confirmed and pointed out this tell or habit of Jimin when he speaks,

"When he’s talking, Jimin often starts his sentence with phrases like, “I just,” “it just,” “they just …” But then he immediately goes on to open up about his feelings, always providing a sincere response."

At least now we know for sure he wasn't lying about his location- for all those who called him a liar.

Anywho, my point is it makes JK happy when Jimin expresses his love and feelings for him. But it also makes him happy when he is able to show the world just how much JM means to him.

He didn't get those tattoos for nothing. He didn't do the GCFs for nothing. He didn't nibble on his ear in front of thousands of people for nothing- had he posted for Jimin on his birthday, given how he hadn't done that for anyone in a year, it wouldn't have been for nothing either. In my opinion.

When I tell y'all Jimin is gonna wake up one day with JK's ring on his finger and he wouldn't know what hit him. Chilee. Lmho.

Listen, JK is in love LOVE with Jimin. It's my opinion and I'm gonna treat it as fact because I believe it- if you disagree keep it to yourself. I don't wanna hear it. Lol.

That boy is in love with my bias. Ain't nobody gonna tell me nothing. Lol.

Seriously though, JK loves Jimin and he loves expressing those feelings for him. He goes overboard sometimes with it to the point it's borderline outing but we don't talk about that. Lol.

He's progressed through out the years from hiding his feelings for Jimin, whispering I love you's to JM when he thinks JM is alseep, slipping matching plasters onto his finger, all the way to Rosebowl.

If you ask me, he wants to be Jimin's equal in every sense of the word and as much as he loves to be at the recieving end of JM's affections, he enjoys being at the giving end.

And if JM has the cover of 'the boy in love with the Maknae' and it works perfectly for him not just as a persona but the perfect excuse for loving Jk then you gotta wonder what cover JK equally has for loving JM the way that he does. He has none. His every move is questioned by members, by staff, by fans- why do you film Jimin so much, why not put Tae in there for clicks, why are you constantly with Jimin and other invasive questions like that.

Jimin gets away with a lot of things than JK because of his personality and his persona. People would question the things JK does most of the time while dismissing the things Jimin does as either fanservice or as flowing from his personality. Whereas JK cannot get away with those same things.

We paint JK as Jeonlous and possessive but we forget most times he acts that way so Jimin doesn't have to. Jimin has said he doesn't share his friends and yet somehow we think he is ok with sharing his boyfriend with 5 other members or those 5 members with his boyfriend- this is code, let it sink in.

There is a lot of boundaries he instills there and it's equally an expression of possessiveness. Yet it's so subtle you might not even notice.

Jk makes Jimin look cool. He takes the fall so Jimin doesn't have to. When JK takes a step back that's when you see how whipped JM is- the neediness, the clinginess- PJMs give me a break. *rolling my eyes. It needs to be said. I love Jimin too but shit, it is what is. Lol.

I think it's gonna take a while for Jk to open back up to Jimin, to get in the space where he feels safe expressing himself with Jimin the way that he was doing before Jimin's birthday.

It doesn't mean he hates Jimin or doesn't love him or doesn't want him or doesn't care. But I think Jimin needs to step up to show he is on the same page as JK because JK is all about reciprocity. He ain't about to do the one sided unrequited nonsense. Lol.

Honestly all this is part of Jikook's dynamics. This not the first time Jk's closed himself off. The last time he did it was because they had gone through a nasty breakup- I said what I said. In my opinion nonetheless. Lol.

In the aftermath of it, he was expressing similar behavior. In Suga's Birthday Vlive this year for example, when Jimin was clinging to him and had his hands on his leg he didn't take the bait either- man was it frustrating to watch. Lol. But you could see JM wanted that physical connection with him. Did you see his smug face when Jimin was all over him?

I think he is just going through a phase where he needs reassurance of Jimin's love. Jimin is a big guy and he knows his man best and I think he knows exactly what he needs to do to get him to come around. Lol.

I mean he flew all the way from Paris to see him on his birthday didn't he?

I think we have to leave them to it. Just observe them. I hate commenting on a phase like this especially when it's on going. I'd rather talk about it after it's ended and a new phase has begun for them.

Part of supporting Jikook is knowing when to give them privacy and room to just unfold their story and be human. They are a living breathing love story after all.

Jk isn't being distant. He is just not interacting with JM the way we are used to seeing him do. But I feel that's part Bighit asking them to cool off and part him just wanting reassurance from Jimin.

At this point, I want to ask why you want people to acknowledge JK is closed off? To what end? I don't think anyone is denying that they are going through this phase- well the Kumbaya tradshippers are but why do you want me to acknowledge this fact? I already pointed out that there is something stressfing their dynamics.

They have their own personal stuff going on but I don't think it's much of an issue and at the same time they seem to be having issues with their company- You have to take all of that into consideration to see how that affects their dynamics as well.

You have to be aware of the timeline too. Because content is not released in chronological order, it may seem like a rollercoaster ride when in actual sense all of this may have happened with a specific time frame.

When it comes to Jikook always assume they are much closer than you think. Jikook is fine, I believe. Just take mental notes of these things for posterity. I wouldn't be worried about them.

As usual, this has been my opinion. Don't take it too seriously. Keep supporting Jikook. Jikook is real.

Signed,

GOLDY

[lemonsandstrawberries]

Hashtag: RelationshipGoals

fandom: Stony (Steve x Tony)

summary: Steve is being forced into getting a Twitter accounts and logs into Tony’s for inspiration - one mistake later, he finds more than he asked for. Meaning, his boyfriend has a tickle kink and Steve has a lot of thinking to do. 

length: 5 468

a/n: Happy Friday 13th! *throws confetti* To celebrate I am posting a fic that contains one of the biggest fears for people with tickle kink - someone finding out when you are not ready to tell them. It has a happy ending, promise! Hope you all will enjoy this fic, feedback, reblogs and likes are appreciated and needed! fic inspired by this prompt. 

—————

Hashtag: RelationshipGoals

Long story short - Steve was getting a Twitter account.

Long story long...

It all started with a certain PR meeting held for the Avengers team, just this time, it was Steve vs the whole PR team. The problem was simple - Steve didn't like social media and didn't have an account on any of the numerous websites and apps. Fighting with aliens, planning new missions, schooling SHIELD agents - those were the zones he felt comfortable in. Some thought that the hidden reason behind the hostility towards social media was, that Steve, born in the 1920s, had a problem with using modern technology. Some called it endearing, some pathetic, the truth was, that Steve fairly quickly mastered each piece of technology he was given, skillfully using any given device. After all, he wasn't dense. Many apps were quite useful, some just plain entertaining, and it required a lot of navigating, but he managed to find some favorites. Just when it came to social media… Steve didn't feel like sharing his private life with unknown faces. Call him old-fashioned, but he liked having direct contact with people and as much as he liked to take a stop during his random walks in the city to talk with people who called themselves his fans, it quickly became too overwhelming. He wasn't good at such things and always thought he was too awkward and not what people expected. Steve didn't like that kind of pressure and didn't like the almost weekly notices from the PR team that he needed to make himself more 'accessible'. By no means, he was expected to stop and talk to everyone who ever called him or share mission details with strangers, but he needed to create a more public persona for Captain America and Steve Rogers.

Hence, Steve was encouraged to take a plunge into the world of social media. 

And he really, really, really didn't want to do that.

One - it was pretty tedious to keep up with everything. Tony eagerly showed him all social accounts he had - Twitter, Instagram, Facebook profile, Youtube, and it all just gave him a headache as Tony chattered which media was good for what and gladly showed him his own Instagram page (mostly workshop photos and meals Steve had prepared for him, which was kinda sweet) and if Steve became slightly interested in that, his interest dropped after hearing about filters and tags. Too much work. 

Second - he didn't have time to keep his theoretical accounts active and post new content regularly. Or more, he didn't want to make time, preferring to spend it on reading or training or hanging out with Tony or anything else, really. He had been gently suggested, that some celebrities (Steve's eyes widened a little after hearing that - was he a celebrity?) hire someone else to run their social media accounts. Steve shook his head at the proposition, knowing that none of his teammates did that and so he shouldn't either, not mentioning that everything posted wouldn't be sincere.

Third - Steve considered himself not an interesting person. He didn't have Tony's charisma, who, of course, had the biggest social media following ever, Thor's flair, which made his Youtube channel where he tasted food sent to him from all over the world by his viewers a huge success or Clint's humor, whose Internet activity limited to commenting on funny animal photos and home videos and people loved him. Even Bruce, seemingly even more awkward and distant when it came to dealing with a privacy-invading crowd, was doing great, kindling the interest of young kids in science with a series of easy to repeat experiments at home and railing about the importance of protecting and preserving the environment. Even Natasha didn't have a problem, her social media accounts full of useful self-defense tips for everyone who needed to feel safer. Steve just couldn't find anything in himself he would like to share with the world. He liked to keep his art private, his relationship private, and his whole life private. 

It should be the ending statement.

It wasn't.

And so Steve, feeling scolded, got back to his and Tony's shared floor, planning to hide, except that he was assigned a very simple task for the week.

Get a Twitter account.

Steve sat heavily on the couch, putting elbows on his knees and palms around his cheeks, definitely not pouting. Why on Earth did he need a Twitter account? Wasn't it enough that from time to time he appeared on Tony's account, being the supportive boyfriend, and allowing Tony share the photos of their date nights or even the short movies from Steve's training when Tony was proudly showing off Steve's impressive physique and using those damn filters and making small stars and glitter swirl around him. 

Speaking of Tony, he could use his boyfriend's advice... Steve checked his phone and knew that Tony was still stuck in a business meeting, and won't be back for an hour or so and as much as he wanted to not think about the Twitter issue it kept coming back to him. What was he supposed to write on Twitter? Something that wouldn't give too much about him, but would be safe and entertaining. He needed inspiration. Maybe a walk would clear his mind but as Steve was getting up, he noticed Tony's tablet laying at the edge of the coffee table. 

Well... Tony wouldn't mind if he took a peak, right? Granted, he never used Tony's tablet before without his boyfriend’s permission. It felt too personal and barging on privacy and it was almost a silent agreement between them that Steve won't touch Tony's electronic devices and Tony won't look through Steve's sketchbooks without prior agreement. But it was different, right? Tony's Twitter account was out there, for everyone, so it didn't matter if Steve would install the app on his phone and check the account, or go to the source and look through Tony's account. It might even help him to understand better how the app was working. 

Steve took the tablet and unlocked it, searching for the Twitter app. Letter T on a blue background. Steve pressed it and skimmed over the screen, looking at the design of the app. Huh, it looked very different from the account owner's point of view. He scrolled down the screen, seeing a lot of text, too much text because wasn't there a limit of signs per tweet? Further, into the app, Steve saw more of things he didn't recognize, didn't see any posts from other Avengers, instead of images and gifs and -

"Woah," Steve gaped, taking in what he was seeing. He quickly scrolled up, his face becoming heated, unsure what he just saw. For a minute, he turned the tablet in his hands, trying to decide if it really belonged to Tony and not someone else, but who else would have a hot red and gold cover, resembling the design of the Iron Man suit. It had to be Tony's tablet, which meant...

Those posts were Tony's. That account was Tony's. Tony had two Twitter accounts? Steve looked back, just now noticing that it wasn't Twitter after all. At the top of the screen on a background of dark blue in white letters was written Tumblr. Steve didn't hear of the app, it wasn't listed as one of the most popular ones for celebrities and that's probably why Tony used it for -

Steve wasn't exactly sure for what. For something secretive. Something he wanted to hide. Things he didn't admit even to Steve. 

Cautiously, Steve scrolled down again, trying to keep an open mind and be more cautious. He wasn't a prude, he knew that people had different kinks and it was completely normal. Heck, he and Tony had a very healthy sex and intimate life and the sight of Tony tied down for their playtime always made Steve's blood boil with lust and desire and they did indulge in some kinks, Steve current favorite one included spanking Tony's bouncy ass and watch it jiggle and the skin turn red. Tony had no problems with sharing his kinky fantasies and Steve was always willing to give it a go, sometimes proposing things on his own, like wax play, which wasn't only sexy but also artistic - Tony's body colored with drips of different colored wax was a beautiful sight. This... This was something different, Steve didn't think to consider. 

There were pictures, that without context seemed innocent, like an array of feathers on a pillow. Some were less subtle and showed a part of sucked in stomach, escaping from a coming closer feather duster. The gifs were the most intriguing - a tied up, blindfolded man, laughing and squirming, while a different man was...

Tickling him?

Steve's brow furrowed as he watched the gif, frame by frame. There was no doubt that it was tickling, fingers gliding over tied man's armpits and sides. Steve expected this to be a prelude, something more to follow, but it was all. Tickling was the main point. Steve blushed when he realized that if there were gifs, there had to be a video and who knew how long it was. How many minutes would it take to bring someone to the brink of hysterics, to make them crumble, but at the same time make it pleasurable? People were not forced into filming porn and following that principle, there were not forced into filming tickle kink videos.

And that being said... 

"Huh..." Steve mused out, bits of information falling into one picture. They never discussed it, but in the back of his head, Steve had this thought that Tony enjoyed being tickled, or at least didn't mind terribly. The way he squirmed between Steve's tickling hands but didn't try to run away. How he laughed and screamed for mercy whenever Steve targeted a sensitive spot and always seemed a bit disappointed when the tickling ended but masked it with a smile and complaints of being assaulted. Sometimes, Steve just felt provoked into tickling his boyfriend, like that one time, Tony had taken his sketchbook and hid away, refusing to say where he hid it and Steve had to tickle the information out of him until Tony was absolutely incoherent from laughter and breathless. 

That was cute. All those shared tickle moments were cute, but Steve never thought that they could be... hot. And intimate. He looked back at the gif, at the way the tickled man arched and bucked, but was not able to escape the ticklish strokes delivered over his skin. What if Tony was the one tied and spread in the chair and Steve was the one standing behind, dotting his fingertips over the bare torso, having that sense of power and control, enjoying the ticklish tremble of the bothered skin. It became a tempting image in his head. 

'Guuuuys, I don't know what to do.'

Steve's eyes caught on some text among the images and gifs. A separate post.

'I still can't tell my bf that I like being tickled. I just can't! There is this block in my head -'

Steve read the text, feeling that he might know the author. 

'I even did that thing you recommended with hiding his stuff away -'

Definitely knew the author. At the top of the post, he saw a name, probably the username and clicked on it. Blue background color, and image of feathers and the username in white bold font. The Spare Parts Man.

That was one major hint...

Steve scrolled down this page, seeing more text and images of people being tickled, some like, a gif that was of a zoomed in stomach, the belly button tickled by a tip of the feather, signed with a 'omg, goals', whatever that meant. Steve tried to search for the text he saw on the previous page, but couldn't find it anymore, instead saw more posts, where people seemed to be interacting with the author.

'Hi, SP! I was the one who sent you the asks with hiding your BF's stuff -'

'I am sure your BF will understand, from what you said, you are dating for a long time -'

'You still didn't tell him??? What are you waiting for, GO GO GO!'

Steve pursed his lips together, feeling upset that Tony was so willing to share with strangers, but not with him. This whole site seemed so secretive, and while Steve felt a bit betrayed, he started to think about things from Tony's perspective. Tickling wasn't a mainstream kink. Bondage, spanking, food play - all the things they had tried seemed to be more acceptable in the sex world while tickling... Some people enjoyed it, some hated it. Steve was somewhere in between. It could be a fun thing among loved ones, but could quickly become overwhelming and unbearable. Steve didn't think about it earlier, but he really liked tickling Tony. He loved the way his body twitched, the sound of his laughter, and the feeling of closeness and trust in the action. For Steve it was fun. For Tony, it had to run much deeper, forming stronger connections than it did for Steve. 

'I don't want to lose him. What if he thinks I am a freak?'

No, Steve would never think that. Tony was the great love of his life and Steve accepted him on every level. 

"Oh, babe..." Steve sighed softly, reading more posts, some screaming nervousness as Tony was pouring his heart out, feeling miserable with his inability to tell Steve the truth, some so heartwarming and oozing happiness when Tony was describing Steve's last tickle attacks and how incredibly good and completed it made Tony feel. 

That. Steve wanted to make Tony feel like that every day. Satiated and fulfilled and safe. 

No more secrets. 

Carried on the moment, Steve pressed on an icon with a pencil and began to write. 

***

Tony was bored. So, so bored. He caught a glimpse of Pepper sending him a scolding look and straightened up in his seat, pretending to pay attention. He just wanted to go back home and curl up next to Steve, feeling Steve's fingers stroking his hair and maybe, if he got lucky, Steve would rub his belly, using just enough pressure to make him smile and feel like melting. He started to smile at the thought and Pepper sent him a confused look. Uh oh. He better control himself. Tony grinned sheepishly at Pepper and set his face in a schooled, thoughtful look, trying to focus his attention on the meeting. Just half an hour more... It was all ending statements, so it was nothing bad if he decided to check his social media, right? Cautiously, Tony took out his phone and unlocked the screen, keeping the phone under the table. A new tasting video from Thor, with a package of sweets sent from the Netherlands. Tony made a mental note to drop later to Thor's floor and ask if he had any stroopwafels left to share because they were amazing with black coffee. Clint commenting on funny cats videos, Tony added it to his watch later list. As usual, his own social media were bursting with notifications, people raving over Iron Man and asking for more videos of Steve training routine, which, Tony couldn't blame them, the sight of his boyfriend working out was heaven. He even decided to check his Tumblr, curious if anyone sent him some more tips or maybe just left him a nice message -

Oh, that was weird. Usually, he had maybe two or three messages, some reblogs, and a few comments. This time, his app was bursting with notifications and Tony didn't post anything that could cause such a commotion in the last days.

'WHAT. WHAT????"

'Nooooooo... Please don't break up with him! He loves you so much!'

"The hell, dude! You invaded your bf's privacy like that?? You're the worst!"

Tony didn't understand anything. Maybe he clicked and shared something by accident. There was a slight possibility that his account was hacked. Maybe -

Maybe it was way, way worse. 

There was a new text post on his main, one he didn't write.

'Hi, this is Spare Part Man's boyfriend. I found this account by accident and me and my boyfriend have a lot to talk about once I see him.'

No. No, no, no.

"Tony? Tony, are you okay?!"

Tony didn't realize he started to hyperventilate until Pepper's voice brought him back. Everyone was staring at him and Tony felt like vomiting.

"I am fine," Tony said, not meaning it, his voice coming out squeaky. "Can we - excuse me, I have to go," Tony rambled out, sending a sorry look in Pepper's direction and trying to walk out of the conference room as calmly as possible. It felt like the whole world was spinning around him, making him feel nauseous. Tony stumbled to the window and pressed his face against the cool glass, trying to soothe his heated skin and get his thoughts back in order.

It wasn't supposed to happen. Not like this. Maybe it was never supposed to happen, staying as his hidden fantasy and dark secret. What if he deleted the account, right here, right now, would he be able to convince Steve that it never existed? 

No. Steve wouldn't fall for it. And Tony felt so stupid for creating that account in the first place, but he needed a place to vent. He didn't plan on socializing, sharing his life, just get the urges out and move on. He just... Wanted to feel accepted. Find people who thought the same as he did. Not feel so alone.

And he would end alone because Steve definitely was going to dump him.

***

"I am back!"

Tony was a genius. He had numerous diplomas to prove it. Yet, he decided that the best thing to do would be to march into his and Steve's shared floor, acting like nothing ever happened. Maybe if he managed to keep his cool he could put this whole Tumblr thing as a social study. Just a research on kinks. No biggie. He could do this.

"Tony, come to the bedroom for a second!"

Somehow hearing Steve's voice made this situation very real and not like Tony imagined it. He couldn't say anything from the tone of Steve's voice, it was neutral, not angry, but also wasn't the cheerful, loving one Steve had towards him. On usual days, Steve would come to him, resembling an excited puppy and lick his face - kiss, Tony meant kiss, and then they would sit on the couch and share their day. Their bedroom was a private, closed space and once Tony set his foot there, there was no way back. 

Feeling a nervous twist in his stomach, Tony peeked into the bedroom, just to feel if the situation was as bad as he feared. Steve was on the bed, forehead creased in thought, and was looking at the space in front of him until he spotted Tony from the corner of his eyes.

"Tony - " Steve started, sitting up straight, pulling shoulders back.

"No, Steve, I - " Tony walked into the bedroom, trying to make his voice strong. Just remember what he had planned and it would be fine. "I want to talk first, okay?" 

Steve blinked and frowned lightly, but kept his lips tight. Alright, if Tony insisted.

"Okay," Tony nodded, trying to give himself some courage and began to pace around the room. "I know you found my Tumblr account," he said the obvious, struggling to keep his voice firm. "And - and it was not true, you know that, right? I just - research - an experiment to - ahh," Tony quickly got lost in his words, noticing Steve's look changing to a confused one. "I - ah, fuck, fuck, fuck - " Tony couldn't get any coherent words out and stopped and hid his face in hands. He continued to quietly curse, not knowing how to get out of this mess and not lose everything. 

"Babe..."

Tony almost jumped away, when Steve came closer and wrapped arms around him. After a moment of hesitation, Tony buried himself into his soldier's arms, his face pressed against Steve's neck. Probably the last hug he would receive from Steve. This whole thing won't make Avengers stuff awkward at all. What if Steve would quit the team? Tony couldn't imagine not being able to see Steve anymore. He needed him. He would change, he would do better. Steve couldn't break up with him. 

"Of course that I am not breaking up with you," Steve said suddenly, and Tony winced, not realizing he said it out loud. "Is that what you thought?" Steve asked, sounding shocked. Reluctantly, Tony nodded. Somehow he was used to being rejected and walking away from problems was one of the things he did and expected the same happen to him. 

"God, Tony," Steve said in an exasperated huff, not believing how quickly this whole thing could escalate in Tony's mind. Then again, he should know, because Tony did think too much and sometimes didn't stop his thoughts on time, letting them drag him deeper and deeper. "Tony, I am not breaking up with you," Steve said again, just to make sure the words sunk in his boyfriend's head. "And I am sorry," Steve gently put his thumb and forefinger under Tony's chin, encouraging him to eye contact. 'Sorry you turned out to be messed up in the head,' Tony finished in his mind, looking into Steve's blue eyes. 

"I am sorry for barging into your space when you didn't feel ready to share yet," Steve said, closing the distance between them and leaning his forehead against Tony's.

What?

Tony didn't reply, just stared, his brown eyes widening. Steve was... apologizing to him? Not the other way around?

"I read some of your blog," Steve said and Tony panicked again, Steve holding him closer when he felt brunet's body tense, "and I understand how hard it is for you to talk about it and how important it is for you. I really do. If anything, I am... a bit disappointed you didn't tell me. Why didn't you?"

Tony's mouth twisted into a scowl. He was disappointed with himself too, but it was hard. Harder than admitting that he liked being pinned down by Steve, or spanked, as it all seemed... simpler. It was obvious why people who enjoyed it were turned on by it. Tickling wasn't easy to explain. 

"I wanted to," Tony finally spoke, his voice coming out quiet, "I didn't know how," this wasn't a good answer. Tony closed his eyes, not able to look at Steve. "I was embarrassed, I guess."

"Hmmm," Steve hummed in understanding, waiting for Tony to continue, but he didn't say anything more. Tony had no problems with voicing out his needs on his site, but face to face with Steve, he was fumbling and struggling for words. Anonymity gave him a sense of control which was being stripped away from him, layer by layer. Maybe with time, Tony would open more, and it was on Steve's side to nurture that vulnerable mindset until Tony would feel strong enough and confident to voice out his true needs. 

"Then... can you tell me why you like it?" Steve tried, sounding gentle and not judgmental. Keeping an open mind was the key here.

"I don't know," Tony said quickly, sounding defensive. He didn't mean to, but it was stranger than him. He didn't want Steve to judge him, to think less of him, but... It was Steve. Steve who was always so understanding and didn't laugh at him and did his best to keep Tony feel accepted. It won't work if Steve would be the only one willing to share. "I guess," Tony corrected himself, trying to be more open, "I like the trust in it. And closeness," he said, tugging on Steve's clothes and hiding more into his boyfriend, "and, uh, it feels good."

"Feels good?"

"Yeah," Tony admitted, burying his heated face deeper into Steve's neck. "Feels really good. Especially when you are the one ti - doing it."

"Oh," Steve said, carding his fingers through the short hair on the back of Tony's head. Tony shivered, just slightly, from the light touch, smiling against Steve's skin and Steve felt an urge to touch him all over. This time differently, more aware and more intimate, paying closer attention to the reactions. "So... you wanna do it?"

"Do what?"

"You know what."

Tony moved away from Steve, showing a confused face. That kinda felt like mocking him, but Steve's face was honest. And it would certainly change the mood and make Tony feel better about this whole day. "I don't know," Tony said, just to be safe, "do you want to do it?"

"Heck yeah."

"What? You do?" Tony asked, his mouth falling agape at the enthusiasm. 

"Sure. You like it and I like tickling you too. It's a win-win, right?"

Tony started to smile in relief. It was really happening. Steve accepted one of Tony's darkest secrets and even wanted to take part in it. Tony could barely wrap his mind around it, already feeling excited and giddy.

"So?" Steve asked again, eyes sparkling, waiting for permission from his boyfriend.

"If you keep asking, it takes the surprise factor AWAAHHAHA!" Tony's newly found boost of confidence was efficiently cut off when Steve latched hands to his sides and squeezed repeatedly. Tony doubled over in laughter and squirmed away, watching with a pounding heart as Steve followed him, smiling beautifully mischievous. "No, no, no, wait, Steve! STEHEVE!" Tony screeched in laughter when Steve ran forward, pushing Tony on the bed, and falling with him. "ACK! STE - hahaha! Waaait!" Tony wailed when fingers were going up and down his body tickling intensely. When Tony became pink in the face and a little breathless, Steve stopped, leaning in and kissing Tony's smiling lips.

"I love you, babe," Steve whispered, looking at his lover.

"I love you too," Tony answered, his heart hammering from the ticklish rush and all love he had for Steve. 

"Are we good?"

"We are good," Tony assured, still not believing that everything turned out so great. 

"Good," Steve smiled, and just now Tony realized that somehow both of his wrists were in soldier's hold and Steve easily pinned his hands above his head, leaving his torso exposed. "Because now," Steve said, sitting on Tony's thighs and slowly sliding his free hand under Tony's shirt. "I want to test every ticklish spot on you."

"Oh fuhahahck - " Tony wriggled uselessly, his stomach sinking in when Steve gently ran fingertips over the soft skin. "Steve, Steve, pleaheehehehese!"

"This is just your tummy and you already are so ticklish. It is a very promising start."

"Ahhahaha!"

"Oh, is this rib ticklish? How about this one? And this one?"

"GAAA HAHAHA!"

"Oh look, the higher I go, the more you laugh. Sooo, this means that when I do this -"

"PFF HAHAHAHA!"

"That's one ticklish armpit you have, babe! Let's find out if the other one is as ticklish -"

Steve was grinning, watching Tony crumbling and laughing, coming apart under his fingers. Steve was right, it was a win-win for both of them.

***

"You should write on your Tumblr."

"Huh?"

"You should," Steve repeated, rolling on completely naked Tony and kissing his lips, "write on your," a kiss on the chin, "Tumblr," Steve finished, blowing a raspberry into Tony's neck.

"HAAHAHA! Stoooop," Tony tried to swat Steve away, feeling too blissful to move. Of course that a long, intimate tickle session changed into an amazing make out. It was incredible how the tickle foreplay increased their appetite and how wonderfully responsive Tony became. 

Steve laughed and rolled on his side, looking at Tony with adoration. Laughing made Tony ten times more attractive in Steve's eyes, and Tony was off the scale to start with. 

"I am serious, babe," Steve tried again, gently poking his finger all over Tony's bare belly, making him squeak funnily and curl up, "write on your Tumblr. Everyone has to be worried."

"Ah hahaha... Ohkahay!" Tony agreed, shielding his stomach with one hand and using the other one to reach for his phone. "Uhh... Should I update and delete it?" Tony asked. With everything working out so great, there was no reason for him to keep that account. No more secret lusting, when he had it all in real life.

"If you want to," Steve said truthfully, "or maybe you can keep it for a bit longer because I might need some inspiration on how to take you apart."

"Ahhh, not sure if I want to give you access to that sort of power," Tony teased, opening the app. "Huh, people kinda hate you."

Steve shrugged, understanding that what he wrote, did sound menacing, even if it wasn't his intention. "Just write that we are fine and your boyfriend plans on fulfilling your each and every one tickle fantasy."

"You do?" Tony asked, voice trembling with excitement.

"All of them, babe," Steve assured, smiling broadly. He had remembered some of the things he read and gifs he saw, and could easily imagine Tony on the receiving end. 

Looking enthusiastic, Tony got to writing. Soon, Steve got up and leaned over Tony's shoulder, looking at the screen.

'Hi, guys. Sorry for the sudden silence but as you saw we had a situation here. It is all good now, me and BF talked, and he turned to be all sweet about it, not bragging, I just had my first tickle session and it was amazing! So, I just wanted to give you an update, that I am fine. More than fine. My BF said that I can keep this Tumblr if I want to and he will even use it as an inspiration, so aaaah, can't wait. Just don't give him any ideas! I am gonna talk to you all soon, but for now, I and my BF have plans. See you later!'

After the post got published, Tony and Steve didn't have to wait for a reaction.

'AAAAH! I AM SO GLAD EVERYTHING IS FINE! YOU BOYS HAVE FUN NOW!'

'Awesome, couple goals.'

'That's great, dude, but I hope your BF apologized.'

"That's the one that doesn't like me, right?" Steve squinted his eyes, pointing at the last comment. Tony laughed and nosed Steve's cheek playfully.

"It is okay, I like you," he smiled. "Do you want to have a nickname? That will make it much easier for me to write when you are involved."

"Um, sure," Steve said, not entirely sold on the idea, but not wanting to shot Tony's idea down. "You call yourself Spare Parts Man, right?" Steve asked and Tony nodded. "Soooo... How about you call me Iron Man?"

Tony's smile dropped in surprise, and he laughed mockingly. "Seriously, dude?"

"Hey, the darkest place is under the candle," Steve said, sounding defensive.

"Fine," Tony agreed, rolling his eyes dramatically. He reblogged the post and added an update.

'BF wants you to call him Iron Man. I know, lame.'

"Ack!" Tony almost dropped his phone when Steve scoldingly pinched his side. Soon the first comments came.

'Ah you sound like a superhero couple, how cute!'

'I am shipping you both. #relationshipgoals'

'Wow, your BF is not very creative, isn't he? But fine, let it be IRON MAN.'

"Write to this one that I don't like them either," Steve hissed, looking at the last comment. 

Tony laughed and turned to Steve, pressing their lips together in a kiss. Long and sweet. The kind of kiss that was the perfect happy ending to a tickle kink coming out story.

"Oh, interesting!" Steve suddenly said, ending the kiss too soon and looking at one of the comments, smiling wickedly. 

"What is int - noooooo!" Tony wailed, understanding the reason behind the smile. It was stronger than him and Tony started to panic. "It is a lie, Steve! Don't believe the lieeee no no aaah HELP!"

Steve laughed, wrestling Tony down and pinning his hands once again. If Tony was already getting this worked up, there was no way Steve would back up.

"No, please!" Tony giggled, kicking his legs, trying to wriggle away, as Steve's menacingly moving fingers were getting closer and closer. "I cahahahan't!"

Somehow, Steve didn't believe him. Instead, he believed the comment.

'Hey, this is for Iron Man - I am sure you know already, that SP's stomach is really ticklish, but did you try tickling his belly button specifically? From what SP writes it is a very ticklish outie. Have fun!'

When Steve pressed his finger over Tony's outie delicately and Tony burst into giggling, almost maniacal laughter, Steve was in heaven. It was settled, Tony was keeping his blog for further tips for Steve. 

[anothertimdrakestan]

Stop Talking And Kiss Me  -  Jason Todd x Reader

Words: 1.7

Requested? Yes! From a lovely anon!

“can i request 7 (no i'm not in love with him i like you idiot) and/or 8 (kiss me already) with jason? thank you!!”

LINK TO PROMPTS  -> REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN!

I love this request! It’s super open so I hope I captured the energy you wanted to create in the studio today lmao. I went for the “will they won’t they” kinda thing because I like the idea of Jason thinking you like Tim but you really have been going after him for months. Jason is too cute I can’t Hope you enjoy!

“Hi. Yes Timothy the Luthor family comes in a week, no they won’t come earlier. No, I’m not calling anyone ‘again’ Tim shut up you’ll do fine we aren’t postpoining. Ok see you in 40 I’m going to another one of the finance meetings I know damn well you won’t be at” you tapped your earpiece, hanging up with your CEO. As the CFO you attended every meeting the higher-ups had about money, it way your job after all. Somehow being Tim’s right hand man meant making excuses to the board about his whereabouts and often his brother’s actions during meetings that were supposed to be money centric. Rushing to the meeting you felt a couple of the papers you were carrying fly off the top of your stack. Deciding they weren’t worth it you continued on not noticing the tall figure following closely behind you.

“Y/n! Hey! I got these uh - papers for you that you dropped” you skidded to a halt coming face to face with Jason Todd, currently the bane of your existence after his last social media storm where he vividly described a pornographic video he was hoping his following could find for him. The “Toddsters” always pulled through for Jason, to the Wayne Ent. board’s disgust. “Hey Todd, thanks.” you smiled up at him as he loomed over you. You really only knew him and Tim, obviously you were close with Tim but you were older than the teen-genius and so it was nice getting closer with Jason over the months. Months, this was because he used to never come in until a couple months ago when you requested he get brought in because you needed him to try to sell new W.E. tech to the “Toddsters”. After that he’d been coming in more frequently, sometimes he sat in on meetings with you and Tim, he was often bringing you and Tim lunch and the three of you would eat in your office while you prepared Tim for afternoon meetings.

Jason was surprisingly reliable. Occasionally you would ask him to bring you coffee or post a video of him asking his following for something, he always complied even if it took some coaxing from you, making promises to dinners together you assumed would never happen in return for W.E. paid promotions. He had grown on you, his goofy smile, aggressive finger guns, and occasionally dark and brooding persona was fascinating. You were constantly enamored by him, and since he’d been coming around the office way more you were beginning to fall for him. Tim knew since you two saw each other and was always trying to play matchmaker even though you both thought the other didn’t like the other, bringing you guys together was a task too difficult for the world’s second greatest detective so Tim just shipped the two of you quietly now. 

As Jason stacked you up with your papers he saw you could barely carry all of them. “Hey let me take these for you, anything for the princess of Wayne Ent” Jason took then out of your arms as you smirked at his nickname for you. He loved calling you princess, noting that Tim was the jester he never really asserted his own position. After an attempt at stopping the nickname it stuck, and you now answered to it happily, but only from Jason. Tim never tried it and when anyone else questioned it, either you or Jason just explained that it just fit. 

“Sure Jay but the board is gonna drag you into the meeting, it will be nice if you go! I’m sure we all want an explanation for your most recent social media activity” you poked his chest while he replied with a wink as he followed you into the meeting. You sat down as Jason dropped the papers on the meeting table with a thump. “Ah, Mr. Todd. Please we have just a few questions do join us” An older man looked up from his laptop, demanding Jason’s presence. Heaving a sigh he slumped into the chair next to you. 

As the second presenter for the meeting got up to walk you through slides at a turtle's pace you realized there was no sneaking out. Even though you were up to date on the company’s finances the rest of the room wasn’t and it was far too rude to leave. Looking over at Jason he had pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, rested his hand on his chin, and was asleep. You watched him draw in deep breaths and exhale, slightly blowing the corner of his hood with each breath, it was nothing short of adorable, but because this was a meeting you couldn’t snap a picture meaning you had to drink in every moment of cuteness. 

As the third presenter got up you considered faking a heart attack. Jason was awake now meaning you couldn’t steal anymore glances in his direction. Anytime you looked at him he was making a goofy face, winking at you, or trying to touch his tongue to his nose. Constantly concealing giggles, by the end of the third presentation your cheeks hurt from smiling. 

When the fourth presentation began you felt a little piece of paper poke your hand. Looking down you saw Jason trying to pass you a note like a fifth grader. Unwrapping his folding-job the note read: Y/n this is a boring meeting why do u go to these? You smiled, pulling a pencil from your bag you flipped the note over and wrote: because Tim makes me so he doesn’t fall asleep like you did. Jason smirked, tearing off a large piece of paper and writing: If you need to sleep you can rest on my shoulder. You scoffed looking at him as he gave his shoulder a little pat, grinning uncontrollably. You glared at him before deciding to shoot your mini shot: Flirting are we Todd? Your heart skipped a beat when a light blush appeared across his cheeks as he wrote: Not unless you’ll let me steal you from your boy toy Tim. Confused you looked at him replying: More like best friend Tim, I’m not a cougar idiot. 

Jason read the paper, his head snapping to you, blurting out in front of the whole board “wait you don’t like Tim!” You felt your own face redden when all heads turned to you. Quietly you mumbled “no I don’t like him” before grabbing the paper and finishing your thought: i like you idiot. Carefully sliding the paper to Jason, you cleared your throat. “Please continue Mr. Smith about the importance of gauging inflation” Willing yourself not to look at Jason you pretended to listen to the presentation while the rest of the board slowly lost interest in the little interruption. 

Deciding the coast was clear you glanced at Jason who was re-reading your note over and over again. He looked up, making direct eye contact with you, mouthing “I like you too princess” you couldn’t help but grin. His hand slip over, dropping the paper and grabbing your hand, pulling it below the table so as to not cause any drama. 

You gave presenter five no attention, too focussed on the fact that Jason Todd was holding your hand. Presenter five finished with a mini lecture to Jason on the importance of keeping his social media pg, he rolled his eyes but eventually nodded, effectively ending the meeting. You pulled your hand out of Jason’s and began organizing the papers you’d brought in as the rest of the board left the meeting room. As the last person left the room Jason practically ran to the door, shutting it quickly. 

Unable to process your excitement you began rambling “so uh, pretty eventful meeting huh? Did you hear anything the second guy said or -” Jason grabbed your hand, pulling you into his embrace. “Stop talking and kiss me y/n” he mumbled, leaning it. As his lips caught yours you could feel him smiling into the kiss, his hands snaking around your waist and pulling you in closer. Pulling away you couldn’t stop smiling. “I think I’m gonna come to Tim’s work more often” Jason admitted, winking at you. You hummed as you moved the papers into the storage system, moving towards the door to leave. “Hey princess lemme get that!” Jason dashed to the door, opening it for you and grabbing your hand as you walked out the door. 

Walking past your company hand in hand with their CEO’s older brother was a lot. For everyone. You blushed as people stole glances in your direction. Jason led you to your office where Tim sat in your chair, feet propped up on your desk.  “Uh hey Timmy” you sheepishly laughed as Tim took in your situation. “Todd I told you she liked you. Same goes for you Y/N. I just can’t believe I lost the bet with Roy I thought you were gonna be pining for each other for at least another week. Dammit” Tim feigned anger but then admitted how happy he was for the two of you. Sitting down for lunch you were exhausted. Finishing your meal you leaned back in your chair, resting your eyes for a few minutes while Jason stroked the back of your hand with his thumb. 

As you slowly woke up you felt your head propped up against something. You realized it was Jason when he gave you a light shake saying “Y/N while I did say you could rest on my shoulder I didn’t think it would be for half an hour, my shoulder fell asleep!” Your few minutes of rest had turned into thirty, jolting up from your position against Jason you checked your calendar realizing you’d missed a meeting. “Relax princess Tim took the meeting, you really think I’d let you sleep through another business meeting?” you snorted “yes I know you would Todd”

“You really do know me too well princess”