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scandeniall · 3 years

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story of us

pairing: suna x reader

the story of ur relationship <3; alternatively (more) dating sunarin headcanons but this time is somewhat of an order and talks good and bad 2K+ worth lol

a/n: i had more planned but half of these have been sitting in my notes for months and its kinda fucking long already bc he lives rent free!!!

warnings: uh the usual aged up (in ur 20s time skip type beat), language, yeah

Meeting

Now when y’all met suna was not looking to love at all. That man was just living his life and so where you. The two of you pretty much meet through komori. You’re a friend and it’s his birthday so him and a few of his friends go out for drinks bc why not. Young hot pretty financially stable v-ball players. Nah no ones there for any type of hookups literally just there celebrating a great guy.

They rent out a section at a relatively nice bar tbh. Not the cheapest and you can actually hear conversation. But also not a super expensive one where the patrons are middle aged with jazz music and the occasional track to relive “youth.” Komori’s a sweetie and will come outside to get you when you text that you’re there. You’ve met washio and ofc sakusa Before so you greet them casually then you turn and there’s Suna and a few others you haven’t met.

That greeting isn’t anything special I promise. Just “hey I’m so and so” and vice versa. It’s one of those meetings where you just think “he’s cute” but it’s such a fleeting thought. Y’all don’t even really talk that first night tbh. At the next practice Suna mentions offhandedly that he didn’t know komori was dating someone and komori is like: huh? Yeah sorry. I love (Y/N) and all but were just friends. Suna just shrugs not really caring to be honest until Komori just asks what did he think of you.

“Don’t really remember much man. Seemed cool though” he didn’t think he’d really see you again. Yeah you were close enough to have been at Komori’s birthday but if that was his first time ever meeting you, he figured you weren’t from around there are present very much. Yeah he was wrong.

Suddenly you were on Komori’s snap story more often, or maybe he’d just been noticing more. Too bad he couldn’t even remember your name 💀. Then it turned into you occasionally popping up where he was. He’d been told your name at least 5 times already but wouldn’t remember it the next day. Whenever he’d see you again he’d get a strained look like: “what is this mf name again” just laugh and tell him again bby.

That changed at some random house party by another mutual friend you two apparently had? You two were the only people just around the fire pit trying to catch some warmth in the chilly night. He’s probably just on his phone head bobbing his head to the muffled music from inside. And you’re just like “remember my name yet?” All jokingly. This sparks the tiniest bit of interest in him and he lets out a low chuckle and just admits “not at all.” I also feel like this is the first time he really looks at you and he’s like 🤨, wait you’re actually kinda cute.

That night y’all just kinda talk and vibe. The conversation comes easy as you two jump back and forth from talking about the music playing to sneakers which he brings up to stuff that you like. He’s actually really easy to talk to. So easy that u can forget about him not remembering your name despite meeting several times. You mention that you’d hung around komori before while they were gaming and that he seemed pretty cool. That leads him to asking “how do you know him anyways?”

“I used to date Sakusa”

Mentally he’s just like— ‘yeah I’m not getting involved in this. Time to go.’ Until you just start laughing.

“I’m kidding. He’s not really my type. We met after being paired together for a project in school.”

The two of you spend quite a bit of time just talking that night until you are joined again by some friends and it’s deadass like y’all weren’t just talking for almost an hour straight.

Getting Together

The process of getting together is like a cat and mouse game. You two start getting closer than friends and then something happens and you’re not talking for weeks. Whether it be life just getting busy, and then someone ending up on some random tinder date or so be it. Definitely one of those things were somehow someway y’all end up just hanging on one of your couches watching a movie. At some point there’s definitely a hint of sexual tension but neither of y’all act on it (later on you find on his finsta that he used to post several “i wont you 😔” memes Folks can’t tell if hes joking or not (hes not))

You probably gotta tell that man you like him so if that ain’t you I’m sorry. Y’all not dating 😹. It’s something casual, y’all going to pick up some snacks for a movie night and why this mf keep looking at you out the side of his eyes instead of the road. You def texting the groupchat asking if you should confess. They tell you to boss up and just do it baby.

You literally end up confessing in that parking lot. Like right when he shuts the car off and starts swinging his keys on his finger and you kinda just blurt “I like you. Like like you.” He just kinda nods before his eyes widen. “Wait are you fr?” Like no you’re joking tf. It gets a lil awkward so you just go to get out the car and he’s like “I like like you too.”

I definitely don’t think either of you ever officially asked the other out it’s just at some point the understanding that you two are a couple. Like when you’re hanging out just you two hes more touchy, and then y’all start kissing and holding hands at some point. Then when you’re with friends he almost exclusively sits next to you and your friends notice the whispers in one another’s ears at the loud bar that seem just a hint too intimate for ppl who are just friends. Then y’all start arriving and leaving places together and people just at some point get the message (it’s later confirmed by you tweeting some shit like: I hate Rin why is that mf my boyfriend)

As far as anniversaries y’all draw straws to pick a day in the ballpark of the time y’all both think you became official. That’s the day you stick with even if it’s not true.

Relationship Flaws

A fault in the relationship is sunas kinda poor communication when it comes to things that matter. How he feels. Arguments. Love sure as hell don’t come east with anyone but when your partner won’t let you in? Yeah that’s like hell. That’s something you struggle with. And then on your end, it’s the impatience with him not letting you in. You try to wrongfully rush it.

There’s definitely been arguments that stem from him just being upset about something unrelated to the relationship then coming to you for comfort without actually telling you what’s wrong. He kinda just wants to lay with his head on his chest but at some point that’s not enough. Y’all are in a relationship and should be able to talk about your bad days too.

You’re not innocent in this issue either because sometimes it comes off too pushy. Yes it’s from a place of care but sometimes that silent comfort is necessary. The walls will break in due time and y’all both know that deep in the back of your minds But then there’s a part that’s like— yeah we can’t let this become the norm

“Rin, can you please talk to me”

He will have literally told you “whatever” and that he “can’t deal with this rn” several times as he just shrugs and is like yeah “I’m gonna just go home. I’ll text you later” with an awkward ass pat on your shoulder if it really ruined his mood. If he’s leaving before he gets super upset and uncomfortable just some half assed kiss in your cheek

Another thing is I feel like he could be passive aggressive and let’s be real other folks doing it causes you to do it to. Y’all probably drag eachother on your finstas where you can both see it lol

But when it comes to making up he cracks first and apologizes when he started it. Or as y’all get more comfy with communication. If it’s not anything major he’ll just hit you with a text like “I’m bored come hang”

More Relationship Things

I feel like he love/hates driving. Likes the ride not always driving though. So if you ever proposed a late night drive he’d be down (if you offer to drive). He does let y’all take his car though. He reclines the seat pretty far back. Alternates between just closing his eyes vibing w/ the music or kinda just looking at you (he the type of bf that makes u nervous no matter how long y’all been together)The way he looks at you makes you nervous cause that man is fine as hell and you can just feel his eyes on you.

He films you on Snapchat and sends the video to you like “you look hot”

If he’s not ‘resting his eyes’ he’s mumbling along to the music because he has the aux. if y’all music tastes are different he occasionally throws in something you really like bc he likes how you perk up at one of your fav songs

Moving on. Y’all dap eachother up after s3x because it’s “modern romance” (boy stfu). You two came up with a sex playlist together and it’s on both of your phones. Sometimes one of you will add a troll song that the other doesn’t know and put it in the lineup. (Stole my heart by 1D has definitely played before and you were practically in tears laughing at his reaction. That was one of those songs he was like ‘yeah alright i think we’re done).

At some point you two develop your own handshake and it’s cute. Whenever either of you have to travel without the other that’s always the last thing you do before you leave eachother. There’s vids of your friends daring y’all to do your elaborate ass handshake drunk and doesn’t matter what’s in your system, you both know it like the back of your hand.

I think he values quality time a lot so there’s so many nights where you’re both just chilling in his room just doing your own things. He could just be at his desk watching some game highlights and you’re just doing hw on his bed with your own earbuds in work all spread out and he’s content. He’s also attentive so if he calculates that you’ve been working too long he’ll just take ur earbud like “hey let’s go get something to eat.”

People definitely think he’s the lazy one in the relationship but it’s 100% not true. Like stated above, he’s very attentive and can pretty much gauge how you’re feeling in the blink of an eye. He knows when you need alone time but won’t go without reassuring you that he’s here whenever you’re ready. When you do just need him he’s there without a second thought. If you’re more touchy he’ll have your head in his lap his arm running up and down your as you tell him what’s wrong. He knows when to joke about a minor inconvenience and over the course of your relationship knows when to cut the jokes and be serious with you.

He’d never admit it but he knows your coffee order by heart (he keeps up his image my asking wtf do you get everytime. Just let him LOL). He the type to peek at what you plan on wearing and ‘accidentally’ color coordinate then pull some shit like “why are you copying me”

Y’all def shit talk together. See someone doing something completely out of pocket in public— straight to ur phones you go (pack it up shade room). To the public it just looks like you aren’t paying any attention to one another on your dates but y’all are. Just over the phone so u don’t piss off ur target 😌

Y’all are very comfy in your relationship that you just say stuff. Y’all don’t even think.

“Rin, what if i crashed us in this car rn 😹”

“Do it. Might be fun”

When you two finally move in together it’s almost like how your relationship starts. Slowly more and more spares of stuff for you end up at his. He does sorta make the move near the end of your lease and is just like “you’re here more than me anyways.” (hes nervous but swears he’s not. Bby you’re literally shaking). Him moving you in is like hell. This mf takes sooooo long to help with boxes. Picks up 1 then sits for like 15 minutes. You ask for help the first few times and he’s just like “I got you” while continuing to scroll his phone.

Sleepy Shoulder kisses in the mornings. Only form a greeting you get but it’s ok

this is like my 100th dating suna hc and im still going this is SICK. it was so hard to not drop old refs bc i still believe in them 100% yes i do!!!!

#haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna x reader #haikyuu imagine #suna imagines #hq imagines #haikyuu headcanons

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emilycollins00 · 4 years

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A3! Best friend headcanons p.3

Hi there! 💕 This started as me needing to vent due to procrastination (not my best moment) so I’m very happy everyone is enjoying them!

Let’s keep going with these. Hope you guys like it! 💕

🌸 Harugumi best friend headcanons

🔆 Natsugumi best friend headcanons

❄ Fuyugumi best friend headcanons

Being best friends with each Autumn Troupe member includes...

Juza

Juza staring at you with a glare that makes many of your classmates cry until you look at him for confirmation to be his partner for the class project

Being super supporting about him entering Mankai, plus, the theatre is closer to your house so it’s a win-win.

That means you almost live there.

“Ugh, Hyodo, your annoying friend is here again!”

“You know Settsu, you are lucky Juza is stopping me from punching you!”

“…I’m not”

“…“

“…Please punch him”

You eating sweets at the dorm and always ending in some kind of eating contest with Juza.

“Y/N…”

“DON’T YOU DARE LET ME WIN ON PURPOSE JUZA, OR I’M ENDING OUR FRIENDSHIP!”

Goes to you when he needs to rant about something or feels insecure about a new role. You give him all the feedbacks you can think off, with your very limited theatre knowledge

“Are you supposed to be intimidating in this scene?”

“…yes”

“Cool!”

Juza appreciating more that you would ever know being someone who looks deeper than first appearances. He takes pride in your friendship

Him watching you always on the first row and smiling because he knows you believe he can do it.

He’s gonna make you feel so proud of being his friend, you just wait.

Banri

Being his best friend means banters and poking fun at one another all the time. You are almost siblings.

Aggressively sending each other memes that remind you of each other

“That is SO not me”

“Did you see me stutter as I sent it?”

Suddenly deciding to go together to an unknown concert and having the time of your lives.

Also, karaoke duels taken a bit too far

Calling him out on his fashion sense and Banri just having none of it

“Y/N you stop fuckin’ actin’ as if I’m not here unless I take off this shirt, cause I’m not”

“Anyone hearing the walls talking or…?”

Being best friends with Banri requires patience too. You need to punch him a few times whenever his ego start rising too much.

Banri not avoiding school nearly as much because you are there and having his best friend around makes it less bothersome, he just will never say he likes spending time with you

Whenever he feels in a weird mood you sidle up to him and do terrible impressions of the dorm, mainly Juza. Pretty much like Izumi’s skills, you sound nothing like anyone, but it makes Banri laugh.

“You really are a natural at actin’ so bad”

“Shut up, you better now?”

“…yeah, thanks”

“Anytime”

Omi

He’s 100% the best friend that would arrive at your house at midnight if you told him to, no more questions asked.

“So, what are we watching tonight?”

Loooooves giving you bear hugs

“Stop squeezing so much Omi or you won’t have a best friend anymore”

He chuckles, but doesn’t stop.

“Stop being huggable then”

Just like with everyone, goes mama hen with you and you, while appreciating it, are done with it.

“Have you eaten?” he asks through the phone as he paces around the kitchen dorm.

“Oh, I don’t know Omi, have YOU eaten?”

Being the one to tell him to let others take care of him too.

Also being there when the accident happens.

When the anniversary arrives, sometimes Omi gets small periods of self-deprecation. He texts you and one moment later you are there, caressing his back.

“I miss him too, Omi”

“…Thank you, Y/N”

“Always, you gentle giant”

Omi cherishes fervently your friendship with him. He’ll always be there for you when you need him to, he swears on it.

Taichi

Oh man, just- Taichi really wanting to show how amazing best friend you are to everyone because… duh, you are?

Having a special handshake for the two of you that last for over two minutes and keeps increasing.

“Taichi we need to leave, Igawa’s car is here!”

“Almost…!”

“Dang it! Sorry Tai. Forgot it was finger guns-jump-jump-right dab, not left there”

“It’s okay! Let’s start again!”

“You both. Stop. Please”

You telling him over and over that he doesn’t need to change and he’s the coolest.

Taichi smiling bashfully because how could he not believe it at least a little? You were his best friend!

Special friendship bracelets. My heart.

Also hyping each other all. The. Time

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU PULLED THAT ON STAGE!”

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU WATCHED ME PULL THAT ON STAGE!”

Taichi asking you to attend every single one of his performances

Knowing you are there makes him feel more assured and keeps him from getting too anxious the first times.

He values your friendship and you SO MUCH ugh.

Sakyo

Will yell at you for not cleaning your place?? Then helps you afterwards and invites you to lunch because you were working all day.

Also known as Sakyo being the type of best friend that won’t show friendship the usual way but you know he loves you.

Of course, this means you are also friends with Sakoda. Sakyo is so done when you two get together.

Making fun of his crush on Izumi and living for it because he makes the best faces.

“So, Izumi, what’s your opinion about blonds?”

“...Y/N, come one second”

“Wait Sakyo, I just need to tell Izumi- Wow what a scary glare. Okay, okay I’m going”

Him acting as if he doesn’t really care but saving all the pictures he has of the two of you.

Not really admitting it, but Sakyo appreciating you caring for him and supporting him when he still had doubts about following his dreams at his age.

Protective much??

Like, scary protective.

“Don’t you dare get hurt or I will kill you, understood?”

“You know what Sakyo, I like our friendship and it scares me on equal parts”

“…Good”

___________________________________________________________

Have a wonderful day! 💕

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forevercloudnine · 3 years

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batman forever riddlebat ship meme

(This one was inevitable. God, do I love this movie. @heroes-etc gave me questions from this ship meme.)

2. Who is the most insecure and what makes them feel better?

The obvious answer here is Edward because he is... clearly and pathologically insecure in his identity and requiring outside approval. You could argue he gets over this once he adopts his flamboyant supervillain identity, but as soon as he steps out of it to be Edward Nygma again he’s as self-conscious as ever. On some level his Bruce cosplay at the Nygmatech party is probably supposed to be a dig at his former idol, but it’s pretty transparent that he’s paranoid about not measuring up, especially once Bruce actually walks in.

As for what makes him feel better, two obvious high points of his self-esteem right off the bat (lol) are when Bruce is giving him positive attention in his intro scene, and directly afterwards when he’s murdering his boss for ragging on him.

Of course, neither external validation or murder is, like, a permanent solution to insecurity. Obviously. If they ever got together Bruce would probably make him go to therapy, which would be incredibly hypocritical because, as Dr. Meridian points out in this movie, that’s not exactly something Bruce is doing. Although in Bruce’s defense, if you count the novelizations as canon for this continuity, the psychiatrist Alfred hired for him as a child basically wrote him off as a lost cause that was going to inevitably self-destruct at some point in adulthood. So I can see why he’d think therapy isn’t for him.

"Young Bruce may seem quite the stalwart, but there’s still a child beneath that veneer of calm acceptance [...] The day will come when that veneer crumbles, and the boy reacts to the memory of his ordeal. Such matters may be postponed, but not indefinitely. And the longer this one is delayed, the greater the damage will be to his psyche.”

“Still,” Alfred pressed. “How do you think this will all come out? Off the record, if you prefer.”

Another pause. “I am not terribly optimistic,” the stout man admitted. “But I assure you, I will do my best.”

Alternatively, Bruce just lets Edward borrow his clothes and calls it a day. It’s less time consuming than therapy and both the movie and novelization demonstrate how into that Edward is.

He was murmuring to himself, “We’ll probably be dining at Wayne Manor together.” He envisioned Bruce sitting across from him, and began to launch into a narrative [...] “Yes. Yes. A Party in my honor? I should have rented a tuxedo. What?” he couldn’t believe it, “One of yours, Bruce?” He gave it a moment’s thought and then shrugged. “Why not? We are the same size.”

3. Who is the most romantic?

Uh, not Bruce! Batman Forever is the most thoughtfully romantic he gets in the entire series, and even here his only two dates ideas are “whatever Gotham social event my secretary tells me I need a date for” and “coming on to my date in my alternate identity to see if she loves me enough not to cheat on me with Batman.” Also, he vacillates between staunchly refusing to do any flirting at all and dishing out the least romantic pick-up lines possible.

You say “bad writing,” I say “totally in character for a hot rich guy who knows that this is as hard as he has to try to get into someone’s pants.” Bruce might love his partner with the intensity of a thousand dying suns, but he’s still sending Alfred to buy all their Valentine’s Day presents. His idea of a romantic evening for two is finally trusting someone enough to tell them his secret identity. If he’s done that already, or they already figured it out, then his playbook is over. That’s clearly the only romantic fantasy he’s ever allowed himself.

(I was going to say he does this once every movie, but he actually never does this in Batman & Robin specifically because he doesn’t actually care about Julie Madison. She proposes to him and he gets her name wrong while shooting her down. Add that to the “Bruce Wayne isn’t romantic” box.)

The ridiculous amount of magazine cut-outs populating Edward’s apartment indicates that he probably has a very vibrant and extensive set of fantasies involving Bruce, which is hinted at a couple times in the novelization.

Edward would certainly know him when he saw him. He’d spent enough time anticipating the moment, after all [...] Finally he was going to be meeting Bruce Wayne face-to-face, and he had every moment of the encounter scripted [...] He’d rehearsed it to perfection in his mind for weeks upon months.

In the grand scheme of things... in the fabulous, sweeping, intertwining destinies of Bruce Wayne and Edward Nygma, such a slip would not even rate a footnote.

He becomes suddenly and painfully aware that if Bruce Wayne walked away without Edward Nygma by his side, then that would be it. It would be finished. All these weeks, months... indeed, a lifetime of planning... and it was crumbling under him just like that.

Of course, that doesn’t necessarily mean his fantasies are all romantic in the traditional sense of the word. This is a man who was charmed by Harvey holding a charity circus hostage with some kind of graffitied missile warhead. Tonally, there’s not even that much of a difference between his crush collages and his riddle death threats.

What’s weirder, using a magazine cutout of someone you hate to make a pop-up card of their face, or using a magazine cutout of someone you love to replace the anatomically correct heart in the cardiovascular system diagram you keep in your apartment/arcade/makeshift laboratory? Probably the former, since it was made with the express purpose of Bruce actually seeing it. Although presumably Edward was planning on taking Bruce to his apartment at some point? And in the novelization, he actually drags Bruce into his cubicle to look at his Wayne Shrine.

He grabbed Bruce’s arms and shouted “No, don’t leave me! I need you!” [...] Bruce was thunderstruck as he was pulled partway into Edward’s office... and then he caught sight of the shrine.

Edwards’s head bobbed eagerly. Now, finally, Bruce would understand the depth of Nygma’s devotion to his idol. He would see how important he was to Nygma.

Notably, the only thing that upsets Bruce about the fact that one of his employees has a serial killer wall dedicated to him at their work station (@heroes-etc: realistically.... IS this the first time this has happened? i doubt it.) is the fact that the shrine includes a picture of him taken directly after his parents’ death, which is obviously a huge trigger for Bruce’s PTSD.

Wayne’s gaze zeroed in on the picture of himself as a young man.

The eyes of Wayne the elder locked with Wayne the younger, and when he slowly turned his scrutiny back to Edward Nygma, Edward could feel the temperature in the cubicle drop to subzero.

Later, once Bruce isn’t being actively reminded of the most traumatizing day of his life, he reflects that he could probably relate to Edward’s specific brand of crazy, and hopes that it’s not too late to try again (it is).

He paused momentarily at Edward Nygma’s cubicle, thinking about the intensity he’d seen in the man’s eyes the other day. Nygma’s ideas might have been a bit odd, but that sort of passion—if properly channeled—could accomplish miracles. That was something Bruce Wayne certainly knew better than anyone else. Perhaps after this fiasco was the time to take Nygma aside under less-pressured circumstances. Start again...

With any other character, I would call bull on their being this unphased by someone being obsessed enough with them to build a stalker shrine, but, like. It’s Batman. He probably has a stalker shrine to Michelle Pfeiffer Catwoman in his cave somewhere. When they start dating, Edward mails the weirdest magazine cutout valentines to his office on the regular, and every time Bruce has to assure his staff that it’s not a ransom letter and it’s just “his boyfriend being romantic.”

9. What is the most embarrassing thing they have done in front of each other?

I mean, by most people’s standards, any one of the things that Edward does in front of Bruce could easily be the most embarrassing thing to happen to them in their lifetime. But for the most part, Edward seems blissfully free of that kind of self-consciousness. He accidentally introduces himself to Bruce as “[extended moaning sound] Bruce Wayne” and shakes it off without even registering his mistake. Even when he feels like Bruce has rejected him and his project, his emotional state is more shocked, saddened, and angry than it is ashamed. He does apologize to Bruce, during the scene where they first meet, for holding on to his hand too long during their handshake. And by “handshake” I mean that Bruce extends his hand to be shaken, and Edward just grabs on and holds it without any motion whatsoever for the entire first half of their conversation. Which might be the only time he ever apologizes in the entire movie. So I’ll say that was his moment of embarrassment.

Bruce only really embarrasses himself in front of Alfred, but Edward does manage to trick Bruce into getting scanned by his mind reading device at the Nygmatech party. Being tricked in general would be pretty awkward for Bruce, since this movie goes out of its way to show the audience how SMART and CLEVER and KNOWLEDGEABLE ABOUT BRAINWAVES Bruce is at every opportunity. But being tricked into getting your mind read is about a million times more embarrassing than just running into a wall like some kind of Looney Tune. Obviously having access to Bruce’s mind allows Edward to figure out that his former boss/current obsessee is Batman, but also it’s just got to be super weird in there. Bruce is a bizarre man.

12. What first changes when it starts getting serious?

Whether he’s idolizing Bruce or plotting his destruction, Edward is still seeing the subject of his lifelong obsession as a larger than life exaggeration of the real man. Some of that pedestal would probably survive into the beginning of a romantic relationship, but by the time they got serious Edward would have had to recognize that Bruce has both positive and negative traits. He would also have had to grapple with the fact that the man he once assumed would make everything in his life better is a lot of work to be around, especially in this movie’s continuity where the trauma of his family’s death and his guilt over allowing enemies like Joker to die are genuinely affecting Bruce’s day-to-day functionality.

(A lot of things, Chase.)

Edward’s introduction scene demonstrates that he doesn’t see Bruce as having these kinds of problems. His Escapism Wish Fulfillment Device TM is clearly a very personal project for him, since he, you know. Is kind of already living in a Bruce-centric fantasy world.

When he’s pitching it to Bruce, however, he states that he doesn’t think someone like Bruce would ever need to escape reality (which could just be ingratiating flattery, but he barely seems aware of what he’s saying at the time because he’s too busy staring with his mouth open at Bruce putting on glasses).

(Side note: an interjection from @heroes-etc

Anyway, moving on.)

Obviously we know he’s wrong, since Bruce escapes his reality every night by dressing up like a bat and scaring people. Normally that’s just subtext (or me being cynical and creating subtext), but Batman Forever introduced a hot psychiatrist who is constantly poking at Batman for being a power fantasy created by a traumatized mind to cope with intense feelings of helplessness in childhood.

The novelization makes it clear that it’s not the illusion of perfection that Edward is attracted to, however. The picture of Bruce in Crime Alley is what kickstarts Edward’s obsession, not because Bruce seemed flawless but because he seemed to be going through similar pain as Edward (whatever Edward’s pain even IS in this continuity). So I think recognizing Bruce’s issues would be less of a dealbreaker and more of a point of connection, were they to get serious.

He saw, there in Bruce Wayne’s face, an intensity that mirrored his own. An anger, a frustration at the hand that fate had dealt him. There were no tears on Bruce’s face. Instead there was a smoldering intelligence that Edward intuitively sensed was on par with his own.

There was something in Bruce’s eyes, something in that gaze. There was Bruce, in a moment of raw emotion, his parents just having been cruelly taken from him. And there was no self-pity. Just cold, hard anger.

[...] Ed still had the newspaper with him when he was walking home from school. Not that he needed it to read; the contents were safely locked away in his skull, thanks to his photographic memory. But he wanted to clip out the articles and pictures about Bruce Wayne. He found the young man fascinating, as if he had discovered a soulmate of sorts.

For Bruce, on the other hand, getting serious presumably just means attempting to include Edward more and more in the found family he builds in the latter half of the 90’s Batman movies. Alfred approving a love interest is not quite as tantamount in this continuity as it is sometimes (Micheal Gough Alfred is pretty laid back), but Bruce is still spending all of his non-Batman, non-socialite time with his butler. So if Edward wants to hang out with Bruce, he has to either get on Alfred’s good side or prepare for a lot of “romantic quality time” where his boyfriend’s dad is glaring at him from the background.

Dick is less important to get on the good side of, since he and Bruce argue all the time in these movies (apparently one of the proposed scripts for Batman & Robin was Bruce kicking Dick out of the house and making him go to college, where Dick would cope with his dad-related anger by bullying his psychology professor Dr. Crane into becoming a supervillain. I personally feel like I deserved to see that Scarecrow origin). So if Dick doesn’t like Bruce’s new boyfriend, it’s just one more thing for them to be catty to each other about.

Alfred’s niece Barbara Wilson on the other hand (who is adorable as a fusion of Barbara Gordon and Julia Pennyworth, do not @ me) would be absolutely vital for Edward to win over, because her opinion could easily either make or break his standing with her uncle. Also Bruce decided to adopt her within five minutes of meeting her, so he’s obviously fond.

19. Where do they go on their first date?

Edward’s fantasy sequence in the novelization makes it obvious enough that he would really, really like to have dinner at Wayne Manor. Hanging out at someone’s house isn’t really a traditional first date, especially if one of you is a billionaire who could have taken you literally anywhere, but clearly none of that matters to Bruce, because that’s exactly the first date he invites Vicki Vale on in Batman (1989).

It’s pretty painfully awkward (“You want to know the truth? I don’t think I’ve ever been in this room before”) until Bruce gives up on the formality and takes her down to eat the rest of their courses with Alfred in the kitchen.

I feel like his first date with Edward could probably go the same way, with a few major differences. One, Edward would have been super enthused about eating in the fancy dining hall, and Bruce would have only suggested finishing their meal in the kitchen because Edward clearly wanted to see As Much Of The Manor As Possible. Two, when Alfred offers to stop embarrassing Bruce and leave them alone for the end of their date, Edward would have insisted he stay and break out the baby albums. You cannot convince me that Alfred is not a scrapbooker. Actually, does what Edward’s doing count as scrapbooking? Maybe they could compare notes.

#riddlebat #batman forever #edward nygma #riddler #bruce wayne #batman #ship meme #i do not actually recommend reading the novelization because it did chase so dirty i still seethe about it sometimes #but it did make edward pretty fucking gay #now the batman & robin novelization i recommend wholeheartedly #because for some reason bruce has a huge crush on mr. freeze #like literally bruce stalked him for a while in his 20's #and his internal narration is constantly monologueing about how handsome victor is #truly george clooney batman is canon gay

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pepperf · 3 years

Note

wip meme: t100 002 *chinhands*

lol. Oh jeez, okay... oh! This is my The 100 canon universe soulmate AU. I wrote a lot of this one, and I was pretty pleased with it, which is why it’s still on my WIP list. A long snippet, just because.

---

He's still not totally convinced that Lincoln isn't planning to carry Octavia off, but he finally agrees to release him because Octavia insists that it's her risk to take, that she doesn't care, that she trusts this Grounder she barely even knows—and, honestly, a part of him wishes that Lincoln would carry her off and save him a whole heap of trouble. Not being responsible for his sister: what a concept.

But Lincoln stays. He doesn't run back to the Grounders, and he doesn't massacre them all single-handedly. He might be scoping them out, but honestly, Bellamy doesn't have much illusion about the strength and complexity of their fortifications. If Lincoln was watching them from the trees, he probably knows everything that's worth knowing by now. Which means he's staying for Octavia.

So Bellamy is trying to bond with him, god help them both.

"She's my... I don't know what you call it." Then Lincoln says something that sounds like gibberish to Bellamy's untrained ears. Soulmate marks started appearing during the first years on the Ark, so there's no shared origin word.

"Say it again?"

Lincoln sounds it out slowly. "Tom... bom... houmon. Tombom, like heart." He pats his chest, where Octavia's name hides under his shirt. "Houmon, like... people united with promises?"

"Spouse," Bellamy translates. Lincoln speaks fluent English, but on Earth it's a warrior's tongue; some words don't get used as often.

Lincoln nods. "Spouse, yes. Tombom-houmon."

"Tombom-houmon." It's a pleasant word. Bouncy. "We say soulmate."

"Soulmate." Lincoln turns the word over, thoughtfully. "It's easier to say," he concedes, eventually. Bellamy's lips twitch. "Have you met yours?"

He doesn't know what makes him pause. Lincoln should probably be the last person he'd trust with his secrets. But there's something about this quiet, thoughtful Grounder—no, this quiet, thoughtful man, he corrects himself—that he instinctively trusts. And if this is Octavia's soulmate, he needs to start somewhere.

"Octavia doesn't know," he begins, heart tripping nervously. "I always told her I didn't get a name. On the Ark, it was—I didn't think it would be fair."

Lincoln just looks at him.

"I know I've got to tell her the truth, but I just... I need time, okay? You can't tell her."

Lincoln considers this. "You will tell her?"

Bellamy sighs. "Soon," he finds himself promising.

Lincoln nods. "Then I'll keep your secret."

Bellamy stares the other man in the eyes. Lincoln looks back steadily, but honestly, he doesn't even need to do that: somehow, Bellamy already trusts him with this. He nods his thanks.

Then he lets his control slip, allowing his eyes drift where they always seem to want to go: to wherever Clarke is located. At the moment she's just across the camp from them, in their direct eye-line, going through the stores with Monty to head off any further incidents with hallucinogenic flora. But he always knows where she is, can always find her in a crowd, unerringly. Like his body just knows.

When he turns back to Lincoln, he doesn't need to say anything. "I see," says Lincoln. And Bellamy is pretty sure that he does see, too—that meeting his soulmate wasn't some defining romantic moment in Bellamy's life, that he can't just walk up to her and stake a claim or whatever, that it's hard and complicated, with precious little likelihood of a happy ending. That whatever happens, it's going to bring him trouble.

It's such a fucking relief to tell someone at last. He rests his elbows on his knees and lets his head slump between his shoulders for a moment, just breathing.

"You're well matched."

Bellamy's head snaps up so fast he's going to hurt himself. "What?"

Lincoln just looks at him. "You and Clarke. Don't you think?"

"Uh, no."

Lincoln—who is rapidly on his way to being the second biggest pain in Bellamy's ass—raises his eyebrows. "You're both strong. Wily. Mistrustful. Ruthless."

Bellamy winces, but Lincoln is saying these things as though they're compliments.

"You don't hesitate to do what must be done to protect your people."

"I hesitate," objects Bellamy, not particularly appreciating this assessment.

Lincoln ponders it, and then tips his head. "And yet, in the end, you'll still do it. You were both born to lead your people."

Bellamy scoffs slightly at this. "I was born about as far as you can get from leadership. I took it down here because I had to, to protect my sister."

Lincoln nods, as if he understands. "I see. And if not for her, you would willingly have followed someone else."

"Well..."

"That one, perhaps." He points out Miller. "Or her." Fox. "Or him." Jasper.

Bellamy's entire soul revolts at the idea, and it shows on his face, apparently, because Lincoln looks smug. "Not just anyone," he mutters. His eyes light on Clarke again.

"Anyway, it doesn't matter," says Lincoln. "Whatever traits you do or don't share, she's your soulmate. You fit together. You are made for each other."

He blinks at Lincoln in shock. "What? No we're not."

"That's what this means," says Lincoln, gesturing to where his soulmark rests. "Do your people not understand this?"

"No, we—we do," he croaks. "But that's—Clarke and I aren't—it's not like that with us."

"Yes it is," says Lincoln, inexorably. "It is like that for all soulmates, whether or not they wish to acknowledge it."

He ducks his head and stares at the floor.

"You don't really think you can ignore it, do you?"

But Bellamy doesn't answer, because he's in the middle of an unwelcome epiphany. "Fuuuuuuuck," he mutters, dropping his face into his hands. Lincoln chooses now to fall silent, leaving Bellamy with his churning thoughts. It's not just the way he's drawn to Clarke—he's given up pretending that feeling doesn't exist. It's the sudden realisation that he wants this—he wants her. He doesn't want to fight this attraction, this sense of connection with her. He wants it to be real, for him to be part of her life. He wants to know that this isn't some fluke or the result of necessity, that it's not going to end as soon as the rest of the Ark comes down. He wants... he wants everything.

So now here he is, trying to go to pieces quietly because he's in the middle of camp, in the middle of the day, and he doesn't need a fucking audience for this.

"Ah," says Lincoln, catching on.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Lincoln pats his shoulder awkwardly. He seems to have been knocked off balance at last, and Bellamy would find some satisfaction in that, under any other circumstances.

They sit quietly, and Bellamy tries to get himself under control, and not be so obviously in crisis.

"How?" says Lincoln, at last. Bellamy glances at him, and the other man gestures helplessly. "How did you not know?" He sounds baffled.

"It's less than three weeks since we first met," says Bellamy. "And most of that time we've been busy trying not to die."

Lincoln winces, and looks away. "Sorry," he says.

Bellamy huffs a quiet laugh, staring down at his boots again. All this bloodshed, and Lincoln is sorry that it messed with his love life? Abruptly, he remembers Roma, and loses any inclination to find any of this amusing. "Yeah, well."

When he looks up, Lincoln is staring across the camp at Clarke. She's laughing with Monty, and Jasper has come over to join them, and Lincoln looks... conflicted. He's making connections, Bellamy realises. They're becoming people in his eyes. He was already protecting Octavia, but now there's Octavia's brother, and Octavia's brother's soulmate, and all their friends...

In a way, he can understand Lincoln's position. Now he's getting to know Lincoln, the Grounders don't feel so distant and unknowable, so threatening. Well, okay, still pretty threatening, he thinks, remembering how fucking built the guy sitting next to him is, how hard he was to take down. But he also remembers Lincoln's face when he looked at Octavia, and as hard as he fights it, how much he hates that this strange and terrifyingly competent Grounder is his baby sister's soulmate (why couldn't it have been Atom? He could control Atom), he still—with the greatest reluctance—understands how he felt in that moment.

He looks across the camp at Clarke, just as she rolls her eyes and smacks Jasper with the back of her hand, sending him packing with a sharp word. Jasper and Monty exchange their dumb handshake thing, and Clarke turns back to the table, hiding a fond smile. And Bellamy feels his heart clench.

He's so fucked.

#the 100 #the 100 fic #fic by pepper #bellarke #bellamy x clarke #mememe #bending-sickle

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teawithkpop · 4 years

Text

[M] - PhysCom - Pt 5

pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - bc 1 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader

Rating: Mature [18+]

Length: 9.1k words

Genre: PhysCom AU - smut with dashes of angst, and a shitload of romance and complicated feelings,, uhuhu (porn with plot??)

Warnings: mentions of sexual acts, swearing, mentions of sexual abuse/manipulation, mentions of non-consensual sex - (these are both mentioned very briefly in the chapter and do not center around any of our main characters, but please be cautious if this is a sensitive topic for you!)

*meme voice* ah shit, here we go again.

thank you everyone for your patience regarding this update!! <3 I appreciate you for waiting patiently and for all your love in the meantime! I hope you enjoy ^^

-------

"Please, will you take this vacation?"

You stare at Namjoon, at the desperation written on his face as he begs you to accept his offer, and a war wages within your heart.

On the one hand, you have no good reason to believe him, not after you’d heard him and his members discussing you behind your back like they did. The key could be a fake, his little theory could be a ruse to let your guard down so you won’t put up a fight when he finally sends you packing.

On the other hand, you’ve never had reason to doubt Namjoon up until an hour ago. He seems to have always looked out for you, always appreciated your work. This could be a genuine plea for your cooperation in a bigger picture, like he claims.

But the shadow of doubt still covers you. The sound of him and his boys squabbling so carelessly, taking a vote on your future. You can’t let that memory go so easily.

“Never trust your client. They will only betray you in the end.” The words of Madame run through your mind again, as if confirming your fears.

You want to believe Namjoon. But you need to protect yourself before anything else.

You slowly break away from his grasp, taking the key and tucking it into a pocket on your belt. “Kim Namjoon...” you say, your eyes cast downwards.

He seems more relaxed now that you’ve taken his peace offering, and he tilts his head to the side, listening intently. “Yes?”

Your brain claws desperately at a strategy, at anything you could use as leverage. But all you have are words. What can you say? What protection do you have left? You’re putting yourself at his mercy.

“During my time in this house... I have learned many things about you and your members. Things I don’t think you want the public to find out about.” Lies. He knows it. You know it. The only secrets you know are their kinks, which aren’t exactly damning to their characters. Even if you did have dirt on them, who would listen to you?

You continue, though your voice sounds uncertain, even to your own ears. “If you’re lying to me about any of this, then I swear... I’ll do what I have to, and... ensure that you pay for your mistake.” You try to imbue strength and determination into your words, but your heart isn’t in it, and you’re sure he can tell. You can’t even meet his eyes. You have no fight left in you. You’re like a frightened animal that’s been backed into a corner.

Fuck. You’re just so tired of this, of everything. You’ve been through too much recently with not even a moment to catch your breath, and you’re just… exhausted. You’ve tried, you really have. You’ve done your best, you’ve gone down swinging. But you can’t do it anymore, it’s all too much...

You feel numb as Namjoon wraps you into his arms. When did he come over to your side of the table? You don’t remember, you can’t think clearly.

“It’s okay.” Namjoon’s breath is warm against your cheek. “You can rest now.”

Can he read your mind? You must look so pathetic, your body shaking as he holds you tightly, like you might float away.

But right now, you don’t care. He’s seen you at your worst already. You choke on a quiet sob and your fingers twitch, longing to reach up and hold him, to reciprocate...

“Alright, has everything been sorted?” Yeji’s arrival carries away those ideas, and Namjoon pulls away from you with a gentle pat to your shoulder.

“I believe it has,” he says, and he stands up to greet her as the two of them start to wrap up the details of your agreement. Their words turn to buzzing as the rest of the meeting passes by in a blur. You're too dazed to pay attention, too numb to feel anything but a vague sense of resignation as papers are signed, handshakes are given, and your fate is placed in his hands.

Before you know it, you’re back up in your room again. Whatever farewell that Namjoon had probably wished you as you shut the door had fallen on deaf ears. You can’t process anything more right now.

-------

The first few hours of your sentence pass by in silence, tears slowly trickling down your face as you lay on your bed. Your brain slowly works through its state of catastrophe. Dimly, you worry that you might never pick up all the pieces. Some have blown away in the recent whirlwind of disaster, some are stained, irreparable, all of them worn from being taped and glued back together, over and over again.

You feel broken.

Is this what they wanted? To break you?

You roll over onto your other side, uselessly wiping the tears from your face as fresh ones spring to your eyes to replace them.

You know, somewhere inside yourself, that you can’t just sit here and throw a pity party all week. But damn it, it’s been a while.

You just need a little time. Soon, you’ll be back on your feet, you tell yourself. You’ll bounce back, just like always. You’ve never failed before.

But what if you do? What if you fail yourself, fail the boys? Fail your family, yet again? You want to curl up and never move for the rest of your life. The craggy void of failure at your feet has you nearly paralyzed, afraid to misstep. Afraid to get that last strike and finally be sent home.

You groan. You’re so exhausted and frustrated of picking yourself apart like this. There's no point in agonizing over what ifs.

You’re here. You’ve arrived at rock bottom. Now the question is where to go?

It feels eerily calm as you sit up in bed and survey your surroundings. No noise pierces the utter stillness of your bedroom apart from your own breathing. It’s stifling.

By now, it has to have been at least a full day since you came upstairs, right? You feel like you’ve been laying on this bed for ages. You grab your ComGear to check the time, and whimper in despair.

It’s only noon. About two hours since the meeting.

After another brief bout of agony at this revelation, you take a second look at the screen and are surprised to see over a hundred notifications. You expect it to be due to the group chat, but a fair amount of them are actually from your clients. You don’t bother to open each conversation, but merely look over their previews - the most recent messages they sent you.

[ Kim Seokjin ]: please try to get some rest, alright? [ Jung Hoseok ]: I’m sorry… truly. please enjoy your time off. [ Park Jimin ]: just let me know! ^^; [ Kim Namjoon ]: Promise. [ Min Yoongi ]: you know where to find me [ Kim Taehyung ]: enjoy your vacation, jagiya~ ♡ [ Jeon Jungkook ]: are you coming down for lunch?

All of them messaged you, but it doesn’t make you feel any better. It hurts to see them pretend like everything’s fine and see if that makes it better somehow. It looks like most of them didn’t even try to apologize for what they did to you. Maybe you really aren’t that important to them after all.

Could they see through your attempts to befriend them all this time? Did all of their kindness to you mean nothing? Is that how they treat all of their employees?

You feel tears threatening again, and you wish you had a friend to talk to about all this.

Then it occurs to you that maybe… you do.

You flick over to the group chat, where you see that the other PhysComs are now talking about some webtoon and sending memes to each other. You tap on Sascha’s profile again. The same page greets you, the same blank profile picture and call button as before.

Yeji had said that the chat was real. If that's true, then the people in it must be who they claim they are, right? You do trust Yeji’s word, but you need to find out for yourself. You’ll never be able to fully accept this undercover group chat as a reliable resource until you know for sure.

Hey, if you’re suspended anyway, what’s the harm right? What are they going to do, fire you?

You bark out a sob of a laugh, and your finger hits the button before you can stop yourself. Yes, this might be a bad idea, and yes, you shouldn’t risk putting yourself out there on the hope that it’ll connect you to a friend, but you need to know the truth. You’ll feel better if you know that there’s still someone in this world that truly understands you.

It rings. And rings.

As the ominous buzzing stretches on through the silence, your worry starts to return. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. If the chat room is somehow compromised, you might have just given yourself away, someone high up in the industry could be tracking your location at this very moment from your cell signal or something, or maybe-

“Hello?” Sascha’s voice rings clear as a bell through the phone, and you almost start crying right then and there with relief.

“Sascha?” You can barely utter her name as all your memories of training together hit you like a sucker punch in your already fragile state.

“Oh! Hey, sweetie! How’s it going?” she replies in her chipper way, a smile in her tone.

“... It’s really you,” you whisper, pressing your fist to your pursed lips to keep your emotions at bay. “Sasch.”

“Of course it’s me, silly goose.” Her laugh is bright and airy, just like you remember it. “Who else would it be?”

You wait a beat, scouring your mind for a test to prove your paranoia wrong, just in case. “What… what did I give to you on our last day together?” You ask imperatively, waiting with bated breath for her answer.

It was not something either of you would easily forget, though most people probably would. It’s also the best test you can think of, as anyone else would assume such an important day would go hand in hand with a meaningful keepsake or an important gift.

“A sandwich,” she laughs. “Pastrami and mustard on rye. You shared it with me to celebrate reaching our target weight that month. Though you never let me pay you back. I would have preferred ham, you know.”

Your shoulders visibly relax. It’s Sascha, all right. Compliments and complaints in the same breath. It’s as if hearing her voice, hearing the confirmation that it’s really her, turns on a faucet inside you that had long since dried up.

“Sascha… so much has happened.”

You didn’t fully realize how lonely and isolated you’ve been until this very moment, now that you have some true company. Your story comes spilling out, every sordid detail, and Sascha listens attentively to what you have to say, just like she used to during your training days.

“So, now I’m in my room, and… I don’t even know how I’m going to get through today, let alone a whole week,” you confess, hugging your stuffed rabbit to your chest.

“Let me get this straight.” A while into the call, you’d switched to video chat, and Sascha appears to be doing some yoga stretches while catching up with you. “You have seven men in that house, all of whom you’re supposed to pleasure sexually, and they’re giving you a paid break from pleasuring them?”

You nod. “Awful, isn’t it?”

Sascha’s face twists. “You know, I think you may be viewing this all wrong.”

Your brows furrow. “Excuse me?”

“Hear me out for a second,” she continues, now angling her warrior pose so she’s facing her camera. “When was the last time you had a real break?” She quirks an eyebrow, dipping out of frame to switch poses, her blonde hair spilling over one shoulder in a loose braid. “One where you didn’t even think about work?”

You stare blankly at the camera. You’ve had no such days. You’re always looking to improve yourself to maintain your high marks. “Um…”

Sascha laughs and flashes you a fond smile. “You were the same way in training. You know how many days a week I work?”

You feel shame start to curl in your gut. “How many?”

“Three,” she replies. “And the reason why is because we have like six Primary PCs here at the dorm.” She blows a stray lock of hair out of her face. “There are thirteen boys to satisfy at any given moment, so we each only tackle two to three at a time, and our coverage is considered thin! Most groups have at least one Primary per client.” She reaches down to touch her toes, her ass shimmying in the air, and you snort. “And that’s not even counting our Secondaries! We're practically a fucking harem over here!”

You sigh, chewing on your lip crankily. “What’s your point?”

She pokes her head up to shoot you an equally cranky glare. “Remind me, how many boys do you tackle?”

“Seven,” you mumble. You know what she’s getting at, but it’s something you don’t want to admit, even to yourself. Maybe… objectively… you do need a break, even if you don’t want one. Maybe you’ve been overworking yourself, biting off - or in this case, perhaps swallowing - more than you can chew.

“Right! That’s half the amount of our clients. Doing the math, you should have at least three Primaries there, but it’s just you.” You see Sascha’s leg rise up behind her in some sort of bizarre stretch, and her voice sounds strained with the effort of holding the pose. “I’m not saying you can’t handle it, babes. I’m just saying that... you do a lot for them. Maybe this will be good for you.”

Hearing someone put it so rationally makes you feel like maybe you’ve been overreacting. Namjoon did tell Yeji he wants to keep you, but it all still seems... off, somehow.

“What about the whole vote thing? And Namjoon’s deal?” You bring up your last few defenses at her argument, your hand resting subconsciously on the pocket of your belt containing the key to his studio.

“Oh no, that’s all highly suspicious.” Sascha blows a lock of hair out of her face as she comes back up and lifts her arms over her head. “But what’s happened has already happened. So I think you should make the best of it, and take this time to rejuvenate yourself. Just keep an eye out, and if those bastards try anything, you send them to me.”

You laugh. “Rejuvenate? How am I supposed to do that?” You roll your eyes at her playfully. “Yoga?”

Sascha props a hand on her hip. “Don’t joke. Yoga is a very valid form of rejuvenation.”

You giggle at her stoicism and she cracks a smile too before continuing. “But seriously, honey! It breaks my heart that you’ve been working so hard, you don’t even remember how to have fun. Come on, what did you do in your training days to relax?”

You think back and try to remember. Most of your memories from training are a blur of hard work, endless studying and practice. You’re about to confess that you really have no idea, when a single memory breaks to the surface, and like a dam, it releases a flood of other times you’d taken breaks. Sneaking out to get snacks, late night adventures, stargazing on the rooftop, all of the rare little pockets of time that you could call your own, and they all had one connecting factor.

“Music,” you breathe, feeling like you just stepped out of a time warp. “Listening to music, really, really loudly.”

Sascha laughs, a proud smile adorning her dimpled cheeks. “I think you know how to kick off your vacation, then.”

You find yourself grinning, too. “Thanks, Sasch.” You feel like maybe you should stay on the line a bit longer. You two really have some catching up to do, even though once you’d started talking, it had felt like no time had passed since you’d last seen her.

But Sascha makes your decision for you, blowing you a kiss. “There are tons of music streaming apps. Go crazy. And call me if you need anything, okay?”

The simple act of her being supportive of your wellbeing has you feeling overwhelmed all over again, but this time, it’s not from emotional distress. “Thanks, Sascha. Same to you.”

You’re about to end the call when you hear a door open on Sascha’s end of the line. She looks off camera and a smile pops up on her face. “Antione, come over here!” She yells, running off screen and returning a moment later, dragging a boy behind her, who seems to be grumbling in protest of her manhandling. “Antione, say hi! This is Antione from the group chat.”

The guy seems more than a little ticked off at Sascha, but when he catches sight of you on the screen, his mouth falls open.

“Oh… hello.” He flashes a smile, and his icy blue eyes are now filled with wonderment. “You’re the Primary for BTS?”

“Hi,” You wave a little awkwardly. “Yup, that’s me.” You can’t help noticing how strikingly similar he and Sascha look. With those crystal eyes and buttery blonde hair, you could mistake them for twins, the only difference being Antione’s thinly framed glasses next to Sascha’s 20/20 vision. But you suppose he wouldn’t really need glasses to have sex, they’d surely get knocked around or broken if he left them on. He probably wears contacts for work.

In fact, his similar appearance to his coworker can’t be a coincidence, especially if they’re both Primaries for their clients, and it leads you to believe that perhaps all of their Primaries bear a resemblance to each other, so that any combination of fuck dolls could be considered a set. From this, you suspect that their clients may be into incestuous role play, or perhaps they like the idea of fucking someone’s “sibling”.

Not concrete evidence, but it’s not a far reach. You’ve seen plenty of stranger kinks.

You’ll have to ask Sascha about it on your next call with her, as you’re sure she’ll ask you more about what things your clients usually request of you. With one girl among seven men, she might presume that they enjoy gangbanging you.

She wouldn’t be wrong, of course.

Kink talk was a common pastime among your peers during your training. You all had been trained to analyze a person, what makes them tick, and how it’s related to their psyche. It had always fascinated you from an academic standpoint, even though some of your fellow trainees would prefer hearing about the dirtiest cases, regardless of the psychological factors that went into it.

“Is all going well? You feeling any better about all this?” Antione’s kind voice tears you out of your thoughts, and you give him a brief, grateful smile.

“I’m getting there,” you reply. “Thank you for all your help. It’s been… a lot to take in, and I’m glad that you recognized that, and helped me ease into it.”

“Not a problem. I’ve been in that position before, and it takes some adjusting, for sure,” he replies.

“That’s what she said.” Sascha snickers. “Alright, stop flirting, you two!” She shoves Antione offscreen, and the boy yelps at once again being pushed around. “Call me if you need me, babes! Have fun! Bye!”

Sascha reaches over and ends the call, and you’re once more on your own. But you don’t feel as isolated as before.

As long as you have your ComGear, you’ll never be alone again.

The thought makes you feel warm inside, though you scold yourself for being so sentimental. You need to recharge, or how did Sascha put it? Rejuvenate.

It doesn’t take long for you to find a decent music streaming app, though it’s becoming harder and harder to ignore the buzzing as your clients keep messaging you. You realize that the notifications might interrupt your music once it starts playing, so you reluctantly open all their chat threads, only to mute them.

There. Now it won’t buzz anymore. They shouldn’t care if you left them on read. They want you to rest, right? You huff derisively and start searching the vast music library, trying to recall what you used to listen to back in the day to pump yourself up.

It dawns on you while you browse that you haven’t listened to any music for the past six months, apart from whatever the boys are rehearsing at any given time. The sound always reaches you whenever they practice, even if they’re rooms away. Though their songs aren’t too bad, they’re still not something you had chosen to listen to.

You hadn’t taken any time to be yourself, since you were so busy trying to be what they want from you.

You feel a vague sort of sadness when you think about it like that, imagining it happening to someone else, but you’re too subjective of the situation to really feel sad for yourself. You hadn’t take time for yourself, however you still climbed the ranks, earned their favor, became their only Primary. You’d achieved your goals.

But at what cost, asks a little voice in your head. What did you lose to win your dream job?

And are you even happy with it? Or is it just the satisfaction that you crave? The satisfaction that you would feel after achieving any other goal? The satisfaction of a job well done?

You shake your head. Whoa there. Too deep.

This is the most mental airspace you’ve had in forever, and it’s starting to show.

You don’t waste any more time trying to remember your old favorites, and instead tap on a “Hot 100 Hits” playlist. It’ll be interesting to see what people are listening to now. Maybe you’ll find some new favorites.

Sure enough, the first song that comes on is a pop rock tune, with a catchy beat and heavy drums. It makes you bob your head and you feel a surge of instant regret at not making more time for music. You’d forgotten how it can take you somewhere else, clear your mind and help you forget all your worries in a way that sex never can.

You’re a bit jarred when the lyrics kick in, though. They don’t rhyme at all, and they seem a little… stilted, like a robot is trying to sing. Damn, is this what kids are listening to these days? You knew that those singing hologram voice programs used to be a thing, but this seems almost unintentional.

You check the screen and sure enough, it’s a Korean title staring back up at you.

Your auditory auto-translation chip is changing the song into verbatim English.

You start to laugh. The unintended consequence strikes you as ridiculous. It seems that reminders of your job are everywhere.

With a sigh of exasperation, you head into the settings of your ComGear and access the language screen. You turn off the auditory auto-translation, and the song reverts back to the original lyrics, which are much easier on the ears.

Now that that’s taken care of, you turn the music on full blast and stand up.

Alright. Music, check. Now... how to leisure?

You look around and assess your room. It’s relatively tidy, and cleaning it won’t take more than ten minutes. You could work out, you have plenty of equipment. But that’s what you usually do on your days off. Improve yourself for work the next day.

What would Sascha say? Maybe… guilty pleasures? You put your mind to coming up with the most self-indulgent thing you can imagine.

Of course, you immediately think of chocolate.

But you’re not really hungry. To be honest, your stomach is still a little knotted up from the meeting.

Maybe not that kind of self-indulgence. You’ll just feel guilty afterwards. Maybe… maybe something pointless. Something that’s fun just for the sake of being fun.

You whirl around and take a long look at your bed as the music sweeps into the chorus.

Fuck, why not? Who’s going to stop you?

You climb onto the mattress and start jumping. You feel pretty silly at first, but the longer you jump, the lighter your worries feel. It’s as if you’re leaving them in the air with every bounce. The music blasts from your night table and you get a little bolder with your jumps, really putting power into them.

You’re lucky you have high ceilings, as you go higher and higher, you could swear you’re flying. You start to laugh, throwing some twirls into your leaps, and as the music blares, you sing along, off-key and with nonsensical phonetic lyrics.

Your cheeks hurt by the end of the song, and you’re out of breath, giggles falling from your lips as you finally jump down into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.

When was the last time you jumped on the bed like this? Must have been when you were young, with your sister.

You feel the same dull ache you always feel when you think of her, though you normally make it a point not to do so. The memory must have slipped past your defenses while you were enjoying yourself.

Lost in your thoughts, you almost don’t hear the insistent pounding at your door, the music and thick walls muffling the sound. You had mistaken the noise for part of the lyrics, as they sounded like gibberish to you. But finally you noticed the person trying to get your attention, and you hurry over to the door as they continue to speak in tongues.

“Neo geogi an-e issni? Yah, mun-eul yeol-eola.”

You pull open the door and are met with the unreadable face of Min Yoongi.

“Gwaenchanh-a? Jeonhwaleul an bad-eusyeossneyo.” He continues to drawl in gibberish, and you merely stare at him, immensely confused.

It clicks for you a moment later, and you hold up a finger to him. “Um, hana… uh, shit, one sec.”

He gives you an equally confused look, and you hasten back to your ComGear to turn the auto-translate back on as well as pause the music. “There, that should do it.” You turn around to see him peering curiously at you.

“You were speaking English,” he says it halfway between a question and a statement. He must be used to hearing you speaking auto-translated Korean, just like you’re used to hearing his words in English.

“Yeah... I forgot to turn my translator back on.” You explain halfheartedly, your shields already locking back into their familiar place. It was a nice, if brief, moment of total freedom, just jumping around to music, but the carefree bubble has popped, and you're once more faced with reality.

Yoongi's eyebrow raises at the mention of the technology, but he merely shrugs a shoulder.

A few awkward moments of silence pass before you realize that he isn't going to explain himself on his own. Something about that, about the expectation for you to move things along, has your hackles raised in irritation.

Just like always, he's expecting you to do all the work.

"Did you need something?" You try to stay professional, even now, but you can't keep the edge out of your voice. All traces of your previous enjoyment have shriveled up and vanished in the face of the man who told your other clients that you were something replaceable.

He prods his cheek with his tongue, his face mask shifting from where it rests below his lips. "You weren't answering your phone," he says by way of an answer.

You stare at him, already growing weary of this interaction. Does he expect you to be as accessible as you were before? You don't plan on contacting any of them if you can help it, at least, not for right now.

Wait, did Namjoon tell them what happened? He must have. But if he didn't, then maybe that's why Yoongi is here. There’s no point in having any more misunderstandings; you have to make the situation clear.

"I'm suspended." Your voice grows quiet, and you look off into the hallway, shame coloring your cheeks. You know you shouldn't be, but you still feel a sting from vocalising your current demotion.

Yoongi gives a hum of affirmation, confirming that he already knew, as his eyes roam over your body. "Forbidden fruit..."

You tense, your body reacting involuntarily to his offhand comment as heat rushes to your core. Your most primal senses want him to give into the temptation and pin you against the wall... No, snap out of it. You’re still mad at him, no matter how attractive he may be.

But thankfully the moment of tension passes just as quickly, and his gaze returns to your face. "It’s a shame I already ate, unlike some people.” A flicker of humor in his eyes. “Here."

He hands you a paper bag, with a takeout logo on the front. You can't do anything but stare at it. It seems that your processors are still down for maintenance.

“You didn’t have breakfast.” Yoongi finally says, after it becomes clear you aren’t saying anything. “You’ve been up here since the meeting.”

It finally dawns on you, though the logical conclusion seems hard to believe. “You were… concerned about me?”

He tugs the face mask up over his mouth, concealing most of his expression. “Jungkook,” he corrects you with a slight cough. “He sent me up here. Poor kid was worried sick about you.”

You hesitate to take the food, even though your stomach is curling with hunger. Is this an attempted peace offering? Does he think this will make things better?

Before you can question his motives, he sighs and shoves the bag towards you. “Take it. You still have to eat, you know.”

You’re tired of fighting, and take the path of least resistance by accepting the bag. “Thanks,” you say, half-hoping that this will be the end of it and he’ll just leave. But the other half still holds the whimsical notion that he actually cared enough to check up on you.

“It’s fine,” Yoongi shrugs again, looking off to the side.

You'd only ever known Min Yoongi as a salacious dom, stuffing you full and showering you in filthy praises. It feels surreal to be standing here now, holding a normal conversation.

After another moment, it becomes clear that his business here isn’t finished, and quite frankly, you’re getting impatient. “Is there anything else?”

At this, he seems to remember his reason for coming. “Ah, yeah. Can I come in?”

Into your room? You blink in dismay, the answer should be obvious to him. “No.”

You think you can see his mouth lift into a smile beneath the mask. “Good. That’s the spirit.” He gives a slight nod, as if appraising your disobedience.

You aren’t sure if this is normal behavior for him, as you’ve barely spoken to him out of character. You know probing him about it will only drag out this interaction, but your curiosity gets the better of you. “What… what are you talking about?”

He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’m just glad to see that you have some backbone. You’re usually so willing to follow orders.”

You bristle at this. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he says, lifting an eyebrow. It would have looked like a challenge if it had been more deliberate, but the way Yoongi carries himself is effortlessly casual and careless. "He gave you his key, right?"

It takes you a moment to discern that he’s talking about Namjoon. You nod once, and he scoffs.

"I knew he would. Poetic bastard." Yoongi sighs, then fixes his gaze to you once more. “That means I have to share my studio with him until all this is fixed.” He clicks his tongue in annoyance.

You aren’t sure how to reply, or if he’s even looking for one. If he wants an apology from you, he’s out of luck. Namjoon’s questionable decisions are not your fault.

But he doesn’t wait for any words from you, and instead turns around to go back downstairs. “Anyway, enjoy your break.”

“Wait.” You aren’t sure why you stop him. Maybe because he doesn’t seem like the type to bullshit you. “Min Yoongi.”

He pauses and looks over his shoulder at the sound of his name, an indiscernible expression in his eyes.

Your resolve turns to steel, using the last ounce of your strength to try and get some answers. “Tell me what’s going on. Why is he doing this?”

Yoongi glances up to the ceiling as though thinking of what to say.

His next words do not inspire confidence.

“I have no fucking idea.”

Your shoulders slump down a fraction. You aren’t sure you believe him, but it’s too much effort to hope for anything beyond his word. You can’t handle any more disappointment right now.

Yoongi scratches the side of his temple and gives a weary sigh. “If I could look inside his mind, then maybe I’d have a clue...” He stares at you intently, and his gaze trails down over your body again. You resist the urge to cover yourself, though now you realize you don’t have to resist. Your body doesn’t belong to him right now, and it won’t for the next several days.

Your arms cross themselves protectively over your chest, testing the waters of your newfound independence. “My eyes are up here, byeongsin.”

His eyes widen a fraction at your cheek. He tugs the face mask down below his chin again, a bewildered smile twitching onto his face, no doubt surprised to hear you cursing him out in Korean. “Who taught you that?”

“Taehyung.” You smirk, proud of yourself for catching him off guard for once. You remember when Tae had told you how surreal it sounded to hear you swearing in his language.

“Doesn’t it sound the same?” You ask him, confusion furrowing your brow. “The translator…”

Taehyung shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear and practically bouncing from excitement. “It sounds different! Like… like you have an accent,” he giggles. “Say it again.”

“Shibal.” You repeat the word hesitantly, the syllables feeling strange on your tongue. Mouth shapes for Korean are so different compared to English.

Taehyung bursts into a fit of laughter, clutching his sides as he rolls onto his back. You whack him with a couch cushion. “That’s not fair! You already know all the English profanities.”

Tae’s eyes dance with laughter as he sits back up. “All thanks to Namjoon-hyung. Shit, bastard, damn it to hell, and of course...” He sticks out his tongue, running it over his lips. “Fuck you.”

There’s a flutter in your stomach from the look he’s giving you. You snort and whack him with the pillow again. “Yup, you got all the highlights.”

His hand slides over your thigh. You meet his gaze, that flutter returning as you see the lust swirling like smoke in his pupils. “Jagiya...” His hand grazes farther up your thigh. “I want to fuck you.”

Things had obviously escalated after that, and you might have gotten lost in the memories if Yoongi hadn’t let out a low chuckle, bringing you back to the moment. “Wow. What else did he teach you?”

You grin, about to let loose a string of foul language, but he holds up a hand before you can, waving off whatever you’re about to say. “Nah, forget it. Leave it a surprise.”

“I’m full of them, you know.” You can’t help feeling a little proud.

“I know.” He stares at you for another moment before turning and heading downstairs. “Make sure to eat,” he calls over his shoulder, and soon enough his footsteps fade away.

A warm feeling fills your chest in his absence, and you can’t quite explain why. His last words prove that he must care about you a little, even if he doesn’t try to show it. The Yoongi you just spoke with feels like a completely different person than the one you overheard in the kitchen. Different even than the one at dinner, who suggested Seokjin should use another slut in your absence.

The memory taints the feeling of warmth, and you sigh. Why are things so fucking complicated?

You head back into your room and devour the takeout with less grace than would be expected for a seductress such as yourself, and mindlessly scroll through your ComGear, which is now more of a standard cellphone, exploring all the newly accessible features.

You’ve missed a lot of news, both locally and globally. Celebrity gossip. Politics. Entertainment.

Wait, whoa. What?

New Witness “B” Comes Forward About Sexual Manipulation in the K-Pop Industry

Sorry, what?

You click the article, your mind reeling with morbid fascination. Why would there still be any “manipulation” now that groups are given PhysComs? Why would they need any other sexual outlet, when they’re given vessels that are willing to serve?

Our witness, who wishes to remain anonymous, has independently corroborated with Witness A’s story. “B” has told us that, like “A”, they weren’t given a choice when it came to filming private sessions with their clients.

“[Group] told me that it was my job. That it was what I was there for. But they filmed me without my consent. They posted the videos online and made money from it. It’s not right. I got out, but there are still others like me who need help. It shouldn’t matter that sex work is against the law. What these people are doing, taking advantage of us… it should be just as illegal. We need a voice, too.”

You may recall that Witness A’s shocking story from earlier this month sparked rumors about illegal sexual companions being provided to entertainment companies, a practice which up until now had been considered hearsay.

However, with this new testimony, it seems that “A” may have had some truth to their story. We tried to contact [Group]’s agency, but they were unavailable for comment.

Holy shit… you had no idea any of this was happening. Thinking on it, it stands to reason that not every PhysCom is treated equally, given the vast multitude of people who have access to them. But where are these PhysComs’ handlers? Why aren’t their networks helping them?

You find polarizing comments beneath the article, most angry that the companies would allow the sex work to take place, very few praising B’s decision to speak out, and some disbelieving that PhysComs even exist. There are also a few very lengthy comments that catch your eye, demonizing the witnesses and making threats towards other companies, should the commenter’s “oppas” be caught in this scandal, too.

You feel uneasy as you click away from the article. The rest of the takeout is put away in your mini fridge, your appetite gone as you try to make sense of things.

That article gives you the feeling that something is happening, not just here in this house, but in the world. Like floating pieces of a magnetic puzzle, you know they’ll all come together somehow, eventually, but you still can’t see the big picture.

You send the article to the group chat, and they confirm that they’ve seen it.

[ PCsv02_svt ]: scary, right? TT-TT [ PCsv02_svt ]: I don’t know what I’d do if I were them, poor thing [ PCsv03_twc ]: they should’ve gone to the police [ PCsv04_blp ]: why did they wait until now to come forward? [ PCsv03_twc ]: if my clients ever treated me badly I would have done something [ PCsv09_$px ]: it’s not always that simple [ PCsv01_svt ]: yes consider the repercussions… [ PCsv01_svt ]: an illegal sex worker reporting nonconsensual sex? [ PCsv01_svt ]: that’s like a robber reporting another robbery

You mull over this as you let them debate the topic. You imagine what it must be like to be in that position, taken advantage of by your clients… you shiver at the cold injustice of it.

There is a certain degree of trust that's employed in any kind of sex work. You're still offering intimacy in some form, which can't be fully given without trust. It must be utterly horrific to see that trust broken and be unable to stop it.

You want to help these people somehow, but right now you need to help yourself. One sea of turmoil at a time.

You click out of the chat and switch to each conversation with your clients, copy and pasting the same message to each of them.

Please don't contact me for the rest of the day. I need time alone.

Since you're suspended, you figure they can't punish you for making yourself unavailable. Though it pains you to think of them relying on the other PhysComs at their disposal. Seokjin already has. You forcibly push away the thoughts every time they bounce against your mind.

With the boys out of the way, you assess your options. You need more information about what the hell is happening, and the most likely place you'll find it is obvious. What did Yoongi say? If he could look inside Namjoon's mind… then he'd have an idea.

You happen to have the key to his mind right in your belt.

-------

It's surprisingly difficult to sneak out of the house without alerting anyone. You left your door locked and music blaring. Between that and the text you sent, you thought leaving from your window would be a piece of cake.

You neglected to account for the height.

Your room is on the third story, too far to jump without damaging yourself. Thankfully, you've seen enough movies to have the idea of fashioning a rope out of extra bed sheets. Unfortunately, bed sheets are not the best rope material. Too slippery.

You mull over what to do for a few moments, and you laugh out loud when you realize that the solution is absurdly simple. Hello? You have literal ropes in among your sex toys. Even better, they're designed not to give the user rope burn, while still knotting like a dream.

It doesn't take long to shimmy down from your window to ground level, and you stash the end of the rope behind some bushes, planning to use it later to return to your forbidden tower.

Disguised in a hoodie, you feel like a spy in an action movie, or a runaway princess, and the thought makes you giggle as you make your way towards the nearest subway station.

It's been too long since you've ventured out of the house. You had nearly forgotten how invigorating the bustle of the city could be. You feel like you’re breathing fresh air for the first time in ages, though the pollution in the distant sky would say otherwise.

It only takes a quick search on your jailbroken ComGear to find the address of the building where Namjoon's studio is located. BigHit Entertainment.

You'll have to be careful not to encounter the others. They probably frequent their record label, and the last thing you need is to bump into one of them. You would have no explanation for yourself as to why you're here. You'd rather avoid the questions.

Unfortunately, it proves harder than you’d think to get into the building. A fingerprint ID scanner meets you just inside the auxiliary door.

Fuck. It’s too much to hope that they have your prints in their database, right? You place your thumb over the scanner, and it buzzes, the sensor light turning red. No go.

Well shit, what are you supposed to do now? You’ve come all this way, and you wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for Namjoon’s stupid key.

Wait, why the hell did he give you the key if he knew you couldn’t get into the building? Bastard. You groan and kick at the base of the door. You try your prints again, but none of your fingers grant you access, the scanner buzzing mockingly with each failed attempt.

You’re about to give up when you hear a voice behind you. “Here, let me.”

You swivel around and see Jeon Jungkook place his thumb on the scanner, a to-go cup in his hand and a duffle bag on his shoulder. The light turns green and the door whooshes aside to let him in. The lift in his brows tells you he recognizes you through your flimsy disguise, but he merely gestures for you to go ahead. You sheepishly walk through, knowing better than to question this stroke of good fortune.

Or bad fortune, as it turns out.

"What are you doing here?" Jungkook asks quietly, once you two are inside the sleek lobby. "You said you wanted to be left alone."

"I did," you confirm huffily, still embarrassed about your struggle to get inside the building. "I do."

"Then... why are you here?" He takes a look around the lobby, where a handful of people are milling about. “It’s not really a good place for being alone.”

You chew your lip. This is the most Jungkook has ever spoken to you. You consider coming up with a story, but it occurs to you that you don't actually know where Namjoon's studio is located inside the building. You’ll need a guide.

"Namjoon said I could use his studio," you explain, deciding to include as few details as possible about your reasons for being here.

"For what?" His brow furrows.

Why all the questions? You’ve always thought of Jungkook as timid, more the type to stay out of the way if someone is up to something, rather than grilling them. But for all you know, maybe he gets assertive in the workplace. It doesn’t matter. You have bigger concerns right now. "To release my first single, obviously,” you snark, crossing your arms. "Look, I’m here for research, okay? You can either help me, or stay out of my way."

His eyes widen. He's never heard you speak to him as yourself, let alone this brazenly. But to your surprise, he nods. “Okay. What can I do to help?”

Well, damn. You didn’t think he would actually agree. It could be that he wants to report what you do to the other boys, acting like a spy. But you’re only here because Namjoon gave you that key. He can’t fault you for using the collateral that he gave you, right?

Fuck it, you’re tired of second guessing. Now is the time for action. Fuck the consequences.

“Where’s Namjoon’s studio?” You ask him, an edge in your voice. “Show me.”

Jungkook hesitates for only a moment, and then nods. He looks wary, almost nervous, and you have to wonder why. Even with your confidant demands, he still has the power in this situation, as always. You’re a nobody who couldn’t even get in the door without his help, and he actually works here. He could have you thrown out, if he wanted.

The thought sends a bolt of worry right to your chest, and you decide to do everything you can to not remind him of that fact.

After a strangely tense elevator ride, Jungkook silently leads you down several corridors until you come across a frosted glass door.

“Here,” he says, gesturing towards the door.

“This is it?” You ask to confirm, and he nods.

You take a deep breath and retrieve the key from your belt. His eyes widen as you slot the key into the lock, and with a gentle twist, the handle turns.

“Where-” Jungkook’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, and you turn around to shush him.

“It was a gift,” you explain icily. “Now, if you’re going to help me, then stay right here and make sure no one comes in, got it?”

His lips purse in suspicion and his eyes narrow, but he nods. “Fine.”

Satisfied, you turn back to the door, and it’s only then that you notice the keypad beneath the lock. Clearly the silver key Namjoon gave you isn’t the only way into his studio, as he had previously implied. Some collateral.

More and more doubts fill your thoughts, but you have no energy left to hesitate as you carefully pull the door open and slip inside their leader’s forbidden sanctuary.

-------

It’s much smaller than you thought. Really, only the size of your walk-in closet.

The silence in the room is palpable, the only noise stemming from the gentle purr of electronics. Your gaze gets stuck on all the collectibles he has on display, all around the room, in glass cases and on shelves. Mickey Mouse bodies, with skulls and crossbones for heads. Everything is black, white, and shades of gray.

They make up the only distraction in the room, but they’re everywhere.

You then notice the only clear surface, or relatively clear, as his desk, opposite the door. A grand computer screen sits front and center, with various equipment stacked around it, and a piano keyboard on a tray beneath the glass desktop.

You hasten across the carpeting, and gingerly pull out his desk chair, plush leather with a high back, ergonomically designed.

It feels like a siren will go off at any moment. You aren’t supposed to be here. You’re intruding.

But you need answers. He gave you the key.

You shake off your sense of foreboding and sit down, swiveling yourself into place. A quick shake of the mouse wakes up his computer.

Fuck.

You need a password. Of course. Nothing in your life can be simple.

After a few moments of muttering and seething in frustration, you try to calm down. Okay, so maybe this won’t be an in and out procedure, maybe this will take a little more thought.

Okay, think, think… what would he use for his password?

“It’s ‘monimoni0613’.”

The voice scares you shitless, and you swivel around to see Jungkook poking his head in the door. He gives you a half smile. “And that’s in Korean. You want help?”

You clutch your chest. “Fuck, don’t scare me like that!” You snap at him, though he doesn’t seem particularly intimidated. How does Namjoon even work with his back to the door like this? You’d be constantly looking over your shoulder. Is he really that trusting of people?

Jungkook doesn’t wait for your answer and comes inside, letting the door fall gently shut behind him. “It’s after his dog,” he says, leaning over you to access the keyboard and quickly type in the password. He smells like shampoo.

Your heart picks up the pace as he hovers over you, his eyes trained on the screen. He’s only inches away from you, his necklace dangles in front of your face in a way that you should not find tantalizing.

“His dog’s name is Moni?” You ask, trying to tell your heart to kindly get a grip. You’re on a mission, no time for horniness.

“Well, ah… yeah. Let’s go with that.” Jungkook makes a slight noise of triumph as the computer unlocks, Namjoon's desktop wallpaper greeting you - yet another skull-headed Mickey.

"Wait, how do you know his password?" You can't help but ask. After the ordeal you went through just to get to his inner sanctum, this feels too easy.

"He lets me use his computer sometimes, for gaming, and stuff…" the boy trails off, looking elsewhere as though embarrassed.

"Okay…" You stare at him. "Thanks for helping."

"You're welcome."

There's an awkward silence.

"Go wait outside." You say.

"Yup." He ducks back out of the room, leaving you to your investigating once more.

You exhale once you're alone again. Okay, where to start? You scan his desktop, but the icons are surprisingly neat. A few programs, a few shortcuts, a few folders, all of which prove fruitless.

The folders contain music program files of what appear to be songs still in the works. Although interesting, not really what you're looking for.

Jesus, how could he trust you with all this? You could leak these to the public. You could sell them, and never have to worry about job security again...

He must be fucking desperate to put his entire career in your hands.

Just like your career currently rests in his own.

You shake off the idea of selling the insider information. Although tempting, right now all you really want is answers as to why the fuck he's doing any of this in the first place. Why did he suspend you? Why did things stop? You had a spotless record up until last night, so… what changed?

You check his recent files next, and happen to find exactly what you're looking for.

Theory - draft for proposal

Seems like a solid lead.

You click the link, and a word document opens up. Unfortunately in Korean.

Of course. Of course he would write in his native language, and of course, it’s only your ComGear that translates messages from the boys, you don’t have bionic vision. There are a few random English words scattered here and there, but not nearly enough to make heads or tails of what the document is about. You could use an online translator, but you need a full understanding of this material, there’s no room for error here.

Should you ask Jungkook? No, you should not. He seems innocent enough, but your sense of self-preservation now overrides any trust you might have once given him. You bite back a groan of frustration and instead mutter a few choice expletives through a heavy, weary sigh.

Then you get an idea.

If your ComGear is what usually does your translating, why not just send this there?

You fumble to highlight the document, then copy it and head over to Namjoon’s email. Yikes. Lots and lots of unread. Well, you can’t blame him with his hectic schedule. You skip over a couple of emails at the top that appear to be from law firms, and instead click to compose a new message.

Fuck, this will leave a trail, won’t it? If he checks his sent emails, he’ll see that you saw… whatever this turns out to be.

It doesn’t matter. He gave you access to this room. He knew the potential consequences.

You paste the body of the document, type in your email address and hit send. Not moments later, there’s a chime on your ComGear, and sure enough, an email has arrived. You don’t get much correspondence these days, apart from your network. Well, your old network. Now your phone constantly has notifications from the chatroom. It feels strangely comforting.

Without another moment’s hesitation, you tap the email and anxiously wait for it to load, praying that the automatic translation feature doesn’t fail you now.

Soon, the English text appears, and your worries are put to rest within the first line.

We must build a brighter future for PhysComs.

#bts #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader smut #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts ot7 #bts ot7 smut #bts smut fic #bts fic rec #yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #thank you all for enjoying physcom! <3

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twokinkybeans · 4 years

Text

FALLEN LIKE SNOW - CHAPTER 4: SET, MATCH

Written by @jeranasblog and Kinkybeanlien

Moodboard by @jeranasblog

The rest of the week in Austria goes by surprisingly smooth. Then... The Charity Gala.

Notes: Adult Peter Parker, Fake dating, One sided nemies to lovers, No powers!AU, Mutual pining, Sugar daddy!Tony, Sugar baby!Peter, Fluff, Smut and Angst.

Smut tags (some for later): Wet Dream, Dry Humping, Daddy Kink, Mirror Sex, Dom/Sub Undertones, Bondage, Humiliation, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Fingering, Edging, Lingerie, Dom/Top!Tony, Sub/Bottom!Peter

Read Set, Match on AO3!

When Peter woke up the next day, he scrambled out of the bed as fast as he could, scaring Tony awake too. Memories of the night before flooded back, shading Peter’s face a bright hue of red. He hid in the bathroom for an hour. His reflection in the mirror couldn’t stop staring back at him and he had to take an ice-cold shower, hangover be damned. When he finally gained the courage to walk back out again, Tony had already left for breakfast. Peter joined Tony and his friends but opted to only give them a polite greeting. He kept quiet for the entirety of the breakfast and he was quietly thankful no one brought up his… loose lips. For lack of a better word. That day they all went up on the mountain together. The perks of skiing and snowboarding were that you didn’t really have to talk with anyone. Just wait up for each other a bit further down. And since Peter was often last to catch up, the others would be ready to leave again. It did mean it was absolutely exhausting for Peter. Where the others would get a short break every now and then, Peter had to keep going in one big breath. He wouldn’t even dare to dream to keep up with Harry. The way he went down the slopes was impressive. He took jumps, went off-piste for little bits, and if the slope split in red and black, Harry would always take the black, steep pistes. Lunch at Seppi’s was the greatest reward Peter could’ve ever gotten. He was burning calories at a rapid pace and it didn’t matter how fit he was, his legs hurt and his stomach was growling with the need to be filled. He devoured the Kaiserschmarren like it was his last meal on earth. He even ended up helping Harry down the last of his gigantic plate of spaghetti. Occasionally, he hid behind Harry when some other people would recognize Tony and ask for a photograph. Peter was honestly glad Harry was part of the group. Having someone his age around meant he could talk about stupid, inconsequential things. Like memes. After a while of having his full attention on Harry, Peter felt a warm hand envelop his shoulder. He turned around only to meet Tony’s gaze. The look on his face was tight. Worried… Jealous? “You look tired.” It was a simple comment, yet it somehow held a massive amount of gravity. The man had kept his voice down and Harry already turned to answer his father’s question. One that Peter didn’t hear now that Tony was suddenly so close to him. Peter’s shoulders fell and he scoffed with a nod, avoiding eye contact by staring at his empty plate. “It’s hard to keep up.” “You’re doing incredible for a first time on the mountains, you know that right?” Peter felt Tony’s hand squeeze and pull, urging Peter to look his boss back in the eye. Tony nodded once, the expression on his face a serious one. “Right?” He repeated. Peter managed to smile slightly. He didn’t know what to think of Stark’s piercing eyes resting on him. No, shooting right through him. “Right.” Peter’s reply was breathless and his eyes flicked down to watch how Tony licked his lips, feeling his own part to mindlessly mirror Tony’s movement. Peter blinked twice and shuffled away, forcing his eyes on the drink in front of him. He barely caught Tony’s little smirk. “I think Pete’s done for the day,” Tony said, louder, at the group. “What?” Peter’s eyebrows raised. “Come on, kid, anybody can tell you’re exhausted. It’s okay to take the afternoon off.” Tony patted Peter’s shoulder before smugly leaning back in his seat. If those ski shoes weren’t that chunky and heavy, Peter was sure the man would’ve crossed his legs, resting his ankle on his knee. “Fine, fine-” Peter sighed. “I need a nap. I’ll take the afternoon off if you promise you go spend time with your friends. Not me.” “Deal,” Tony replied quickly, causing Pepper to let out a soft snort. “He’s lying,” she chuckled. Peter rolled his eyes and sighed. “I know.” … Peter and Tony made their way to the Dorfbahn after lunch so they could have a nice walk back to the hotel. Tony arranged for their ski gear to be brought to the hotel by an employee of the gondola. The employee wasn’t very keen at first, but when Tony offered him a - likely too - generous amount of money, the refusal turned to agreement. Peter and Tony casually strolled over the forest path on the other side of the river, towards the hotel. When they were almost halfway, Peter finally found the courage to say something. Though, he did quite enjoy the silence he spent with Tony. The man somehow had something calming about him. It was almost tranquil. Still, things would have to be addressed anyways. Better get it over with fast. “I’m sorry about yesterday, I-” “Oh, you remember?” Tony looked at him surprised and Peter decided to just keep staring at his gigantic moon boots kicking through the snowy paths. “You thought I didn’t?” “You were quite drunk, Parker.” Tony let out a soft laugh and Peter sucked at his teeth with frustration. He should’ve just not said anything. “I… gotta say I was a little scared you thought I’d taken advantage of you when you ran off into the bathroom.” “But you didn’t.” Peter hid his nose behind his shawl and raised his shoulders. “I didn’t.” Tony stretched out, taking a big breath and watching the air condense in front of his mouth. “I’m better than that.” After a few more steps Peter felt like jumping into the rough river rushing next to them when Tony continued talking. “Did you mean it?” “Mean what?” It was a futile attempt at postponing his answer. In reality, it made it even harder to answer what Tony said next. “That you would like me to overwhelm you?” Tony said it so casually, it ached Peter. “Call me, y’know. That.” They both knew what Tony was talking about. Yet, it didn’t matter whether he addressed it like this or if he would’ve just said the actual word. It was still incredibly embarrassing. “I was drunk.” His voice is weak. Unreliable. “Very much so.” Tony put his hands in his pockets and rolled his shoulders, looking up at the clear sky. “People say things without a filter when they are, though.” “Well, I…” Peter didn’t have the right words to counter Tony’s. His brain couldn’t think of anything to defend himself, actually. “You’re using that very filter right now.” That was enough. Peter quickened his pace, overtaking Tony and leaving the man behind him. Stunned. “Hey!” Tony chased after him and grabbed Peter’s shoulder, forcing him to stop and turn around. Peter hated himself for feeling his eyes water. He hated how Tony noticed and seemed worried. He hated this… Strange feeling in the bottom of his stomach. Whatever it was. “It’s okay. If it makes you uncomfortable then we don’t talk about it. It’s all good. You get to sleep in your own bed again tonight.” “What if I don’t want to?” The words left his mouth before he could think them through. Tony’s stunned look shifted to an amazed one. “Then… Then you can stay.” His voice was low, words slow. “Do you want more? More than just sleeping, I mean?” Peter pulled back and hid his face behind his hands. “Yes? No! I don’t know. Not yet. I just-” “I’m gonna stop you right there.” Peter felt two gloved hands pulling down his scarf and cupping his face. He opened his eyes and his gaze met Tony’s. His warm, deep brown eyes captivated Peter immediately. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable with me. Or with yourself, or whatever you’re struggling with right now. There’s… Honestly not much I can say or ask of you, especially since you’re here for me, but… would you protect me from my nightmares again tonight?” Peter could only nod slowly. He held his breath. Tony gave Peter an encouraging smile and let his clothed thumbs caress Peter’s jaw. “No funny business. Just two fake boyfriends on a trip to Austria.” The man leaned in with a smirk. “And there was only one bed.” Peter sniffed once and then chuckled, pretending to gasp. “There was only one bed-” Peter repeated, faux-surprised. Tony knew how to break the ice. And he for sure just broke the news to Peter that he knows about fanfiction. And Peter made the mistake of confessing the exact same thing with his reply. “And if you do want to sleep in your own bed, you can go right ahead. No strings attached. No expectations or obligations.” Tony let go of Peter and held out his hand to him. “Deal?” “Are you lying again?” Peter asked cheekily. Tony grinned and waited for Peter to shake his hand. “This time? Definitely not.” Peter smiled up at his boss and nodded, wrapping his fingers around Tony’s palm and giving him one firm handshake. “Then deal.” … The next two days flew by. Peter had permanently moved into Tony’s room… Their room. And it felt right, sleeping next to him. The man had this natural warmth about him that got Peter through the night more easily and Tony admitted he slept better with Peter by his side as well. It was strange. They still weren’t actually together, but it all blended so easily. Peter didn’t even feel like he was acting at the dinner table anymore. He was having fun. With Tony. They talked until late at night about all kinds of things. Fears and dreams. Childhoods and futures. Being over halfway through this vacation felt like a weight on Peter’s shoulders. There was always this lurking fear that Tony would drop him right after the vacation, like he promised he would. Was this a promise he intended to keep? Or would Tony have changed his mind? Just like Peter did? He wasn’t sure. It was the day of the big celebration gala. The Charity Event. February 14th. Valentine’s Day. The party was planned for the evening and Tony had his sights set on a full day of relaxation for both of them. After visiting the hotel saunas, Tony had booked a couple’s massage session. Peter had never gotten a massage in his life before and he was looking forward to it. His muscles needed a break after skiing every day and he couldn’t imagine anything better than spending a relaxed afternoon in the hotel spa, especially since Tony was going to be with him. All the massage tables were empty because everyone was up on the mountains, and Peter was thrilled to be alone with Tony and their masseuses, savoring the moment of silence. Peter did his best not to stare at the billionaire, dressed only in a thin towel, but he couldn’t stop himself from getting a small glimpse. Tony’s body was amazing, muscular and strong, unbelievably fit for a person his age, and Peter had to stop himself from drooling. They were in a public space, no time for an inappropriate boner. When they finally laid on their stomachs, Peter could relax. His face was turned towards Tony and he could see how the other man smiled when he was looking at Peter. He felt calm, enjoying the time he could spend with the billionaire. The hands on his back did wonders for his muscles, kneading his flesh and working every knot out of his body. He felt loose, all the tension leaving him, and his eyes fell shut. The masseuse did excellent work, finding every spot that hurt and treating it until Peter was a puddle of goo. When she worked at a particularly tense spot, digging her fingers in until his muscles finally relaxed, Peter couldn’t stop a loud moan. It echoed across the room, too loud to go unnoticed. Peter died in embarrassment. His eyes open, looking directly into Tony’s and he could see a feral look in his eyes. His pupils were dilated, staring at Peter like how a predator stares at his prey and Peter had never seen such raw hunger on his face before. The look made him clench, his mind providing him with pictures of Tony massaging him, wandering lower and lower until… He stopped his own thoughts and shuddered, struggling with a mixture of arousal and embarrassment, that was highly inappropriate in the situation. “I’m sorry.” He didn’t even know to whom he was apologizing, but he could feel himself blush, turning his head away from the billionaire. “Don't be embarrassed, I know it feels good.” Tony’s voice was filled with understanding and something else, something darker. "M-m sorry, I can't hold back-" "Don't worry.” The masseuse destroyed the mood and Peter wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or disappointed. “Happens to everyone. Feels good when the muscles finally relax.” Yeah, it did, but it felt even better when a certain billionaire was looking at him like he wanted to eat him alive afterward. There was no way he could survive this vacation without jumping him. Peter was screwed. With each passing day, with each flirtatious smile, his self-restraint was crumbling more, and it was only a matter of time until he would give in. Peter tried not to look at Tony during the rest of the massage, kept his eyes closed and focused on controlling his body’s reaction. He was worked up; every sound of the billionaire made him struggle. When the massage was finally over, he didn’t even know anymore whether he was relaxed or even more tense. He just wanted to go to their room and take a long cold shower. One more touch, one more word, and Peter would break. … “Stunning as always,” Tony mumbled as he stood behind Peter once again. The young man was staring at his reflection in the mirror like he did before, but this time he did hear Tony creeping up on him. “Thank you.” It wasn’t more than a whisper. Peter’s eyes shifted to Tony’s in the mirror. His gaze was intense. They’ve been in this exact position before and it has Peter quietly wonder where this was headed. “I haven’t changed yet, though.” Peter was wearing the simplest clothes. A pair of sweats and a plain white T-shirt. He figured that was the most comfortable to wear for the few hours of downtime he had in the hotel room. Peter found out he actually liked studying himself in the mirror. How the lines of his body flowed and changed with his movement. He used to be unsure what to think of vain people. That it’s shallow to ogle at yourself that long; to like yourself and the way you look. But now that it was Tony’s clothes that were hugging his body, he caught himself staring at his reflection more often than not. “Maybe that’s why…” Tony sighed his reply as he pressed himself into Peter’s space more. No touching yet. “May I?” Peter released a shaky breath that he didn’t even know he was holding. He nodded slightly, allowing Tony to press against him. His body was warm and pleasant and Peter felt himself melt under Tony’s touch when his arm creeped around Peter’s waist to hold him tight. Peter’s jaw tensed when he felt Tony’s hard on. Was this actually happening? Tony’s beard scratched the skin of Peter’s neck as he gently rubbed his chin back and forth. They kept their gazes locked together as they felt the tension rise. Their pupils dilated more and more at the realization that things might escalate sooner rather than later. “More?” Tony whispered into Peter’s ear, confirming Peter’s thought process. Goosebumps spread over Peter’s entire body and he shivered. Yes. Yes, he wanted more. More than anything. He nodded again and Tony hummed disapprovingly. “Tell me you want more. I want to hear you.” “Please,” Peter gasped quietly. “More?” Tony hummed again, a little louder this time. The sound vibrated through Peter’s body and went straight to his cock, which was already visibly growing harder in the sweats. The mirror left nothing to the imagination. Neither did the sweatpants. Peter couldn’t contain a soft moan when Tony’s rough beard was replaced with soft lips. Tony’s grip on Peter tightened and he squeezed into Peter’s skin through the white shirt. “So good,” Tony whispered, suckling at Peter’s neck. “So pretty...” That did it. Tony broke Peter. Peter ripped himself free from Tony’s tight arms and turned around to jump him. He pressed their lips together and wrapped his legs around Tony’s waist. The man immediately grabbed Peter’s ass to push the two of them flush together and he stumbled back to sit them down on the bed. Peter ground himself down into Tony’s crotch and moaned audibly when Tony’s tongue entered his mouth. The billionaire’s strong hands helped Peter rub against him, squeezing the student’s ass in the process. Peter whimpered and whined and moaned and he pressed his eyes shut with embarrassment. “I- I can’t hold back-” He heard himself say, thoughts hazy, repeating what he had said during the massage session earlier that day. “Don’t.” The word shot through Peter like a missile. The filthiest noise he’d ever made, escaped his lips, straight into Tony’s mouth. The man groaned back and grinned. “Jesus, kid, you’re perfect-” Peter’s fingers tangled in and pulled at Tony’s hair. “For you,” Peter gasped between kisses. “Wanna be perfect for you-” Suddenly, Tony pulled back and stared at Peter wide-eyed. There was a crooked, open-mouthed smile on his face, eyes filled with wonder and amazement, as if he couldn’t believe this was happening. That this was real. Peter felt the same. “Well, then…” Tony’s voice was low and dark. Hot. “I got something for you.” He pushed his hips up, making Peter moan again and press back down. It felt so good. He whined softly when Tony stood them up, placing Peter’s feet on the floor. Peter felt dizzy with pleasure as the man guided him to the living space, hand resting on his lower back as he did all those days before when they pretended to be together. Were they still pretending? Peter wasn’t sure, though, he also wasn’t sure if he cared about that right now. There was a flat, white box on the coffee table. A deep red ribbon held the box and the lid together. “I-” Tony stuttered, which surprised Peter. The man never seemed shy, yet now… “I bought it the night you got drunk.” Tony took a slow breath in through his nose and Peter could literally feel the arousal drip from Tony’s words. “I wasn’t sure about the size, but given that I’ve already bought you so many clothes, I’m guessing I got it right.” Peter turned his head to look up at Tony with big eyes. Tony smiled down at him and patted Peter’s ass twice, causing the young man to buck his hips and whimper. “Go on, open it.” Peter hated walking away from Tony’s warmth, but he complied anyway. He shuffled towards the table, swaying his hips a little more than necessary for Tony to stare at as he went. His fingers curled around the sturdy material and he lifted it, looking back at Tony for reassurance. The man smiled kindly and nodded once. Right as Peter lifted the ribbon to pull it loose, there was a sudden knock on the door. Both men were startled, but one quick glance at the clock on the wall had Tony swear under his breath. “The stylist is here,” he huffed, heading for the door. He pivoted on his feet to give Peter one last look. He nodded at the box. “Do with that as you please. We gotta get ready.” Tony left Peter in the living space by himself, dumbfounded and horny, gift in his hands. Did… Did that just happen? When he realized what almost went down if they didn’t have that stupid gala to go to tonight, he yelped quietly. With the white box still in his hands, he hit himself in the head two or three times before pressing it against his forehead. He opened his eyes when he heard the contents shuffle inside. Peter took a slow deep breath in and only half paid attention to Tony talking to the stylist in the hallway. He then made a break for it, rushing into the room that used to be his at the beginning of the week to open Tony’s gift and see what’s inside. … Peter was buzzing with excitement when he walked through the crowd of the Stark Charity Gala, Tony right beside him. He could feel the hand of the billionaire pressed against his lower back, could feel his warmth through the layers of fabric. It would be a lie to say he had calmed down since the little make-out session, Peter could still feel the lingering arousal in his body. He was overly aware of Tony’s presence, overly aware of the lingerie he wore under his expensive suit. Being shown off by Tony, dressed in clothes the billionaire had picked out for him. It made Peter feel owned and cherished, a heady feeling that made him a little dizzy. “You look beautiful, baby,” Tony whispered into his ear, his lips slightly grazing against his skin. One look in the billionaire’s eyes was enough for him to see the hunger, to understand Tony was as riled up as he had been the entire evening. The word ‘Daddy’ was on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to shout it, wanted to scream it while he was getting fucked by the billionaire, but he swallowed it down at the last second. He blushed in shame when he realized how close he had been to saying it out loud. “God, sweetheart, you are teasing me,” Tony growled softly, his hand tightening against Peter’s back. The billionaire’s voice gave away how turned on he was, although his face remained blank, a fake smile for all the guests. “When I bought you the lingerie, I thought you would wear it for me, not everyone else in the room. Baby, you make me a little jealous.” Peter stared at him with wide eyes. How did he know? He had changed into the set when he was in the bathroom. “Oh, Pete,” Tony’s chuckle vibrated through his body. “I can see it through your shirt. It’s not really clever to wear black lingerie under a white button-down.” Peter’s gaze wandered lower, fixed on the light gleam of black which was visible under his shirt. Suddenly, he felt himself getting hot, felt how all his blood rushed to his face in humiliation. He hadn’t thought about it and now not only Tony but a hundred people, no, a hundred strangers, would see him in lingerie as well. “Don’t worry, I’m just teasing,” Tony reacted immediately as he saw Peter’s discomfort. “Nobody is going to think it’s lingerie, could be an undershirt as well.” Peter was still skeptical, but he relaxed a little. Tony was probably right, there was no reason to panic. “Tony,” a cheerful voice stopped his misery and a man in a military suit approached them. “Long time no see.” Immediately, Tony’s fake smile turned into a real one. “Rhodes, how are you? Glad, you could make it. Can I introduce you to my boyfriend? Peter, this is Colonel Rhodey, my best friend.” “Nice to meet you.” Peter shook his hand; glad they were meeting a friendly face for once. “How come I heard about your relationship from the media and not yourself?” Rhodey tried to look stern but failed. Tony saved himself in his usual joking way. “Maybe I just didn’t want you to scare him away. Peter is a keeper.” He pulled Peter tighter against his side and the student felt himself blushing. Again. Soon, Tony and Rhodey were absorbed in their own world, trading stories from when they were younger, and Peter retreated himself. He liked the Colonel, liked listening to him, but he wanted to give these two men some time alone to catch up. Peter excused himself with a smile, giving the billionaire a quick peek on the left cheek before he disappeared into the crowd, looking for familiar faces. Eventually, he found Pepper and his husband. Pepper and Marcus were greeting him with a hug. “Hey Peter, you met Rhodey yet?” Marcus handed him a glass of champagne that tasted quite nice. “Uh yes, Tony is actually chatting with him right now.” The blonde woman laughed loudly. “Oh boy, you won’t see either of them for the next hour. They can’t be separated once they didn’t see themselves for a few days. Joint at the hip.” Peter chuckled slightly, but he didn’t care. Tony was a good man. He deserved to have good friends and if that means leaving him alone for a few minutes, Peter would gladly do so. “So, tell me, how do you like Austria?” “It’s amazing. The landscape, the hotel, even the food. Have you ever tried homemade spaetzle before?” Apparently, Pepper had because they spent the next half an hour talking about food and Austria, and even though Peter had to pretend to be Tony’s boyfriend, it had never felt as real as it did right now. He relaxed, less afraid to screw something up, and for the first time, he could truly enjoy spending time with Tony’s friends. A few minutes later, Rhodey joined them. “Where did you leave Tony?” Pepper asked jokingly. “Was someone able to separate you two?” For a second, the Colonel pretended to sulk before he grinned at the woman. “No, he had to do his duty. Talk to some guests, convince them to donate. It’s still a charity event, Peps.” “I’m going to look for him.” Peter downed the rest of his champagne and placed the empty glass on the table. “Can’t let him walk around alone before someone might snatch him away.” He winked and earned some laughter while he turned around and searched for Tony. It took him a few minutes until he found his boyfriend and when he did, Peter froze. He had imagined a couple of scenarios. Tony flirting with an old lady, convincing her to donate a part of her fortune, Tony joking with some golfer friends or even Tony arguing with someone who didn’t respect the LGBT+ community as equal. However, Peter was confronted with a woman instead, a woman who was clinging at Tony, her arms wrapped around his biceps and he could see the billionaire smile. His boyfriend. No, his fake boyfriend. Peter could feel tears rising in his eyes and he clenched his fists out of anger. His nails pressed down into his skin, leaving marks on his palms, but he didn’t care. It hurt. He watched how she was flirting with him, how he was smiling and not pushing her away. Everyone could see them, everyone could see that she was touching his boyfriend, fake or not. Pain mixed with humiliation and he could see a few pitiful looks from the crowd fixed on them. Peter imagined he could hear their thoughts. “Poor boy could only keep him for a few months. Of course, a college boy from Queens couldn’t tame a billionaire.” The first tear spilled over, running down his cheeks. He could see her leaning over to Tony, her gaze fixed over the billionaire’s shoulder, looking directly into Peter’s eyes. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing him break down, but he couldn’t stop the tears either. He felt a hand on his back, could hear Pepper’s voice in his ears, even though he couldn’t process a single word she said to him. The woman who had been flirting with Tony smiled at him, crude and hateful, before she placed her hands on Tony’s chest and pressed a kiss against the billionaires lips. Peter’s world stopped. He felt numb, his blood rushed through his veins and his heart pumped faster and faster. His whole body started to tremble, and the last barrier broke, hot tears spilling from his eyes. Peter wanted to run away, wanted to hide somewhere safe, preferably in his bed at home. He waited a second, wanted Tony to move, to push her away, but the billionaire wasn’t doing either of it. God, it hurt. He couldn’t take it anymore. Peter turned around, fighting his way out of the room, the pitiful faces blurring in his vision. He couldn’t hear Pepper crying out Tony’s name, couldn’t hear Tony crying out Peter’s name, the laughter of the woman ringing in his ears. The only thing he could focus on was how to get back to their room, to pack his things and fly back home, even if it meant spending all of his money on a ticket. When the door of the gala hall closed behind him and the voices were dulled by the wall, Peter broke down completely, sobbing while he climbed up the stairs that led to the penthouse. His steps were quick but uncalculated. He nearly tripped a few times, but he didn’t care. His clothes felt heavy on his body. No. Not his clothes. Tony’s clothes. He wanted nothing more than to rip them off his body.

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beamsmom · 3 years

Text

Fics I've written for sunakomo week 🌻 it's completed you can find em here

Day 1

Prompt: "it's nice to meet you"

Suna's POV

A denim jacket over the shaggy sweatshirt that has life-changing lines imprinted on it, no gender just swag, that's what it reads, the broken amends of the crucified ripped jeans that my parents hate, I proudly wear those and I pick up my skate, glancing one last time in the mirror.

"Uhh, how am I still single? "

Yeah, my very first thought.

I swirl around to some beats, throwing some TikTok dance steps. I open my window and slip down my skate in between my arms, trying to step out numb on my toes keeping it quiet as much as I can and my one foot trip on the roof and my body rolls down through the slanted wood and hugs the holy mother earth echoing a thudding sound while my limbs pain me down.

I shouldn't be outside at this hour, wait what time is it again ?, gazing up at the sky I reckon the moon's position.

"It's 2 or 3 AM"

I embark on finding my skate and my eyes catch a scene that hurts me more than my back.

Some dog is chugging on my skate. It isn't some normal dog, it's the most beautiful creature, a pitbull. That thing has the aura of some ragious God dog. I step forward and horror rapidly runs throughout my spin.

What a great day. I spread my lips wider ready to start a fight with the dog's owner. I swivel my head on either side scavenging them. I'm not really a ragious person but I'm off beat now and then and that's now and then is too often.

I kneel and give the damned dog an astounding smile. " You aren't eating my skate, give me my skate, please" and the dog growls right at my face, rendering its sharp fangs, daring me to open my mouth again. I waved both hands in the air, accepting my defeat.

Okay, somehow it appears mad, his eyes are red bloodshot and he leers ragious and that thing engraved its fangs deeper on my plain Rick and Morty mimed board.

Ouch ouch ouch

Enough with playing the nice guy, I'm gonna have to do what has to be done. I hold the other side of the skate and force it towards me.

Why the hell is this small shit so strong? Why isn't his owner around??

"Give me my skate," I yell and it barks at me.

"See dog-" it barks again but this time it's louder.

"See, SIR, I'm already sneaking out, if you're barking, gonna wake my parents up, I'm going to be grounded for a couple of months and we don't want that, do we ?"

"Give me my skate, you piece of sh-t, wait, once your owner gonna be here, they'll pay for your deeds, f-ckface"

I hear someone from the back. I cocks my head in their direction. It's bland and dark. I can't see anything but a stepping silhouette and his voice sounds ethereal.

Why am I getting carried away, I have to yell at them?

"I'm so sorry," he says, bowing down.

A boy who is probably of my age, he's wearing a tee which goes as yes I'm wearing a meme and white sweatpants. Adorable.

"Wait-, you didn't give me a chance to be mad at you" I pour, crossing my hands at my chest.

"What?" he obliviously stares at me through his lashes.

"I mean, nothing" I choke up on my own words, and all of sudden my heart beats fast and it's about to come out of my mouth. His face, his damned face. I never thought it could be possible to feel this physical attraction to someone. Wait are we gay panicking over a stranger, yess most definitely we are.

He hesitantly pierces his lips together and our eyes meet and I have always been competitive in everything, so I have no intention of breaking it. He twitches the corner of his mouth and walks towards me. He leans down, plucking the other side of the skate from my hand.

"Ponny, please baby take this out of your mouth, see I can't do this in the middle of a night, please, you're causing trouble to them"

The dog finally let go of the skate and oh god and the condition of it. I can cry a river just right there. He pats his dog and puts back his leash.

He is too sweet, if it were my pet I probably would've yelled and snatched the thing away without even thinking.

"Hey I'm so sorry, ponny can get hard sometimes. She's just too much to deal with, I'm so sorry, I'll pay for your skate" his eyes are apologetic. He appeared genuinely upset about my skate.

"No it's fine, I can fix it" I try to soothe him. Although I respectfully su-k at comforting people, it's the effort that counts. So bare with me.

"For real ?" He beams at me and I see sprinkles and stars in his eyes and oh man he's the human version of a golden retriever.

~~a part of me want to pat his head so bad~~

"Yeah, I just have to change the board and repaint it" I replied, picking up my broken board.

"I can help you with that," he sings.

"Um, honestly you don't have to go through all that because of me"

"No, no it's fine"

"Well, we can meet at my house after school, I guess"

"Yeah sure," he enunciates.

"You know I used to have a pet as well" for the first time, I tried to hold a conversation with someone. So I thought it'd be great to tell him a story about my pet hamster.

"Yeah?" he replied, exhibiting a smile.

"His name was hamster"

"You name your hamster, hamster," he asks and I nod in response, cause the choice I had was to either call him the rock or the hamster, I chose the one I liked the most.

"Well it was better than calling him the rock"

He laughs and I catch myself staring. He is intriguing.

"I'm Komori motoya" he offers a handshake.

I take his all small fingers under my hand's embrace, "I'm suna rintaoru"

"It's nice to meet you, rin-san"

"It's nice meeting you too"

"So I guess I'll see you tomorrow ?"

"Yeah you will"

"Night komo"

"Good night"

I turn back and crash into someone," watch out moron" if I've known the words that are going to slip out of my mouth are my last words I would have chosen them more wisely. My mum is standing there, exhibiting no emotions, "rin". Oh god.

"Hii mum, what are you doing outside at this hour," I say, trying to break the awkwardness creeping up in the environment. All of a sudden I can sense the humidity in the air, my shirt clings to tacitly on me.

"You're grounded for a month," she warns.

"Yes ma'am, wait it's like I can't go out but someone can come in, right ?"

"Well, I guess"

"Sure"

She quirks a brow towards me, " have you found someone? I mean finding out romantically since you've never asked that question and I'm speaking from my experience of grounding you several times"

"Perhaps, that's something is for the future"

"Don't get hurt, okay ?"

"Don't play the nice mom after grounding me for a month"

She shakes her head and gestures to me to get back inside.

The end

#suna rintarou #hq komori #komori fluff #suna hcs #sunakomo #anime #fiction #fluff prompts #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #romance prompts #novel #haikyuu sakusa #haikyuu atsumu #ao3feed #read on ao3 #fanfic #inarizaki

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oliviastan17 · 4 years

Text

Just a dream (5/7)

Warnings: 18+, all the fluff in the world, language, smut

Length: 3.6k

A/N: I am a nurse so this is way more medically accurate than what is needed for the story. I just started typing and all this nurse stuff came out (#nurselife) and I took a lot out but sorry if it’s too much. There’s nothing graphic though. I put a lot of gifs in because I don’t feel like I can accurately describe what I dreamt. I own none of them. DO NOT POST ON ANY OTHER WEBSITE! Please reblog and I love reading comments!

It took 2 months but today was the day. It was packing day. Your brother needed to drop Harper off because she had a fever and couldn’t stay at daycare. She seemed to be feeling okay after some ibuprofen and was playing with some toys with Sebastian (or so you thought) while you worked on packing.

You walked into your bathroom to find Sebastian sitting on the floor facing away from you and Harper brushing something on his face. Wait, is that my makeup brush?

“When did you guys come in here?”

“He’s almost ready,” Harper informed you.

“Ready for what?”

“The party. Auntie, you sit there,” Harper commanded.

“Okay then,” you said sitting on the edge of your bathtub. Harper had been really into makeup lately so you exactly what she was doing and couldn’t wait to see her masterpiece.

As Sebastian turned around you gasped, “Oh, Harper! He is so beautiful! You did such a good job!”

He had red lipstick covering his mouth and part of the stubble on his chin. There was charcoal grey sparkly eye shadow all the way above his eye brows and his cheeks were a bright pink. Sebastian just looked at you and smiled as he held up his hands.

“Oh, you did his nails too? They look amazing!”

“It’s your turn!” she exclaimed.

Just then your brother walked through your door effectively saving you from a makeover.

“I hear your daddy,” you said and then Harper ran out to see him.

You and Sebastian followed and as your brother took in the sight of Sebastian and laughed.

“Hey kiddo! You feeling better?” he asked as she ran up to him.

“She had motrin at 4:30,” you informed him.

“Thanks Y/n,” he said looking around at all the boxes. “Man, it’s weird to see this place packed up. Am I seeing you before you leave?”

“Probably not. Did Mom call you to have you help move what I don’t take into storage?”

“Yeah, we’re coming on Saturday. Well drive safe. Call me when you get there.” He offered a handshake to Sebastian and said, “Sorry about all that,” he said referring to the makeup.

Sebastian shook his hand, “It’s no problem.”

Harper gave Sebastian a hug and then you knelt down to hug her. You didn’t want to let her go. “I love you forever.”

“Love you!” She said laughing while you kissed her cheek and then blew a raspberry making her laugh. You had tried your best to prepare her for not seeing you as often but you weren’t sure how much she actually understood.

Your brother came over to give you a hug.

“Thank you. I don’t know what I would have done without you,” he said as he hugged you.

“Love you. Have Noah FaceTime me later okay?”

“I will,” he said as he turned and he and Harper walked out of your house. You closed the door behind him and Sebastian wrapped you in a hug. He was trying to say comforting things but as you looked up at him you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing.

“I can’t take you seriously when you look like that,” you said laughing. “There’s makeup wipes in my bathroom.”

“No, I think this is a good look. Get used to the new me,” he said leaning in to kiss you but you playfully dodged it. He had too good of a grip on your waist so you ended up with lipstick all over your face.

“You want to order in? I’m not taking you anywhere looking like that and you just ruined what little makeup I had on.”

“Sure. Whatever you want,” he said.

As he walked away you took a look around at all the boxes around the house. You were definitely sad to be leaving but you were also excited about your future. It was scary but it would be an adventure. Everything with him was an adventure. Even something as boring as packing was fun with him.

After one more day of packing, you did it. You packed up your car and drove (well Sebastian drove) to New York. The drive up went as smoothly as it could. Between his carpool karaoke and the games you created on the way it really was fun.

On the second day of the road trip your brother called you to inform you that Harper was put on antibiotics for strep throat and that she also came down with bronchitis. Great you thought as you remembered her coughing directly in your face.

Three days later and you were at the doctor for the same thing. Nothing was able to stop you from coughing so the doctor gave you some cough medicine. The good kind with codeine.

Sebastian was doing a great job taking care of you and went to three different stores to find apricot nectar because that’s what your mom would give you when you were sick. When he got home the first thing he heard you say was, “Oh my god, Chris! Watch out!”

Why is Chris here? He rounded the corner and found you on the couch watching Civil War stoned out of your mind.

“What are you doing?”

“That’s not your ass,” you said pointing at the screen.

He just laughed, handed you your nectar and went into his office.

His office was very close to the living room so he could hear every comment you made even though you were hoarse and could not stop laughing.

“Oh, that was so hot!”

“It’s not Bucky’s fault Tony!”

“Back the fuck off T’Challa!”

He finally gave up and walked out of the office and over to the couch. He lifted your legs up, sat down and laid your legs across his lap.

“I thought you didn’t want to watch?”

“I want to hear your commentary.”

“Hey, can you introduce me to him?”

“Downey?”

“No, Tom. Cause if I was 10 years younger…”

“Get out,” he said pointing at the door.

You laughed and grabbed his shirt to pull him closer for a kiss but then you stopped yourself.

“No, I don’t want to get you sick,” you said as he kept moving closer to you.

“I’ll take my chances,” he said before he kissed you. You fell asleep soon after.

Living together came easy. Everything was going great. You had found work doing some consulting for a production company and could mostly work from home. He had a few months until he started a new project so he was home. When you finished work you two would go explore the city. Some mornings you would go for a run, some you would stay in bed and just be together.

You hadn’t felt up to running the last couple of weeks. You just felt so tired but now you felt like you were gaining some weight because you spent the last 2 weeks being lazy around the apartment and eating crappy food. Today when Seb got home from his run and you were still laying in bed curled up he got a little worried.

“It’s probably just a stomach bug. I’m fine. I just need to rest,” you reassured him.

The next day you weren’t much better but you still got up and did some work in his office. Then the following day Sebastian wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Alright, that’s it. We’re going.”

“No, I’m fine Seb. Really. I promise I’m…” your sentence was cut off by you taking in a sharp breath as you grabbed your stomach in pain.

“No, you’re not. It’s been 2 days Y/n. Let’s go,” he said as he reached for your hand to help you up.

After a short cab ride you arrived at the hospital and were in with the triage nurse.

“Any chance of pregnancy? Last menstrual period?”

“I’m on birth control. They are really light if I even have one at all. I don’t really remember.”

After a ton of other questions and taking your vitals she brought you back into a room.

“Just change into this gown and the doctor will be right in.”

You rolled your eyes at the gown.

“Just put it on. Humor me,” Sebastian said.

“This is stupid. I’m fine,” you said but you had your hand resting on your stomach.

“Stop being so stubborn, babe. Just do what they tell you to.”

“Hi, are you Y/n?” a nurse asked walking into the room.

“Yes,” you said as you sat on the bed. You weren’t going to put the gown on unless they absolutely made you.

“And your birthday?” she asked looking at your hospital bracelet.

“Y/b/d.”

“Okay, I’m Caryn and I’m going to get a blood sample and put an IV in. On a scale of 1-10 with 10 being the absolute worst, what would you rate your pain at?”

“Maybe a 6.”

“Is it constant or does it come and go?” she asked while getting the supplies out of the locked drawers.

“Comes and goes.”

You answered all of her questions. It’s been 2 days of intermittent cramping, no bleeding. You were tired and felt kind of bloated and were sure this was just a stomach bug.

The nurse drew your blood and put the IV in then walked out of the room. Sebastian stood up and leaned over to kiss your forehead. He started walking around the room snooping in the cabinets and drawers. He pulled the otoscope down from the wall and turned the light on.

“What do they do with this?”

“Have you ever seen a doctor? That’s what they use to look in your ears.”

His mouth pulled up into a frown as he nodded his head. He put it back and then started to pull the covers for the otoscope out of the dispenser and placed them on his fingers.

“It’s like those me me’s of Chris with the fingernails.”

“God, my boyfriend is a 12 year old. And it’s meme. Not me me.” You knew he was just trying to distract you and it was kind of working because he was so adorable.

The doctor then came in the room and introduced herself.

“Okay, so we got the results of your tests back and it seems you are pregnant.”

“I’m sorry…I’m what?”

“Your blood tests came back positive for pregnancy. I’m guessing you didn’t know?”

You and Sebastian looked at each other in shock.

“No, I’m on birth control.”

“Birth control is only 99% effective so becoming pregnant when taking it is rare but not unheard of. Have you been on any antibiotics recently?”

“Yeah, like 2 months ago.”

“That could definitely be a factor as well. Some antibiotics lessen the effectiveness of birth control. Now you have had no bleeding so that is a good sign but I’m going to do an ultrasound to check on everything okay?”

Frozen in disbelief you didn’t answer so Sebastian did.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

You had stopped listening and weren’t sure when exactly when she left. Sebastian brought you out of your haze. Sitting on the bed he grabbed your hand and said, “Hey, look at me.”

“This can’t be happening. How did I not know?” you asked. As you looked at his face he seemed so unbelievably calm.

“Whatever happens, we’re going to get through it. We are going to be okay. I’ve got you, okay?”

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

“Yeah, okay,” you agreed.

“Come on,” he said as he pulled you into his arms. He lifted your head up to kiss you.

“I love you.”

“Love you.”

The doctor came in bringing in an ultrasound machine and you laid on your back. Sebastian was sitting in his chair next to your bed and was holding your hand between his and resting them under his chin.

As you turned your head and looked at him he smiled and said, “I’ve got you.”

You forced a smile. The room was quiet with the lights turned down and you were holding your breath for what seemed like an hour while the doctor started the ultrasound. You were too scared to look at the screen so you just stared at Sebastian.

“Okay, so based on the measurements I would say you are about 7-8 weeks along. If you look here, this is the amniotic sac and this is the baby right here,” the doctor said pointing at the screen. You turned and looked at what she was pointing at. “And this flickering here is your baby’s heartbeat.”

You stared at the little moving black and white form on the screen and you brought your free hand up to your mouth while Sebastian let out a breath and kissed the hand he was holding.

“Is the baby okay?” Sebastian asked the doctor.

“I would say so, yes. The heart beat is strong. You’re still going to want to go see an obstetrician as soon as you can but I think everything looks great here. Some women experience pain in the beginning of pregnancy because their body is preparing for the growing uterus so your pain is not unusual.”

You were ugly crying at this point but you didn’t care. You had gone from being in pain to being a mom not knowing if her child was okay or not to being the happiest you have ever been.

“I’m going to print some pictures for you and I’ll get you started on some prenatal vitamins. You can take tylenol for the pain. The nurse will be in shortly to take out your IV. Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” you said as she walked out of the room. You looked at Sebastian and started to say something but were cut off by him crashing his lips against yours.

“You have no idea how happy you just made me,” he said hugging you, then kissing you, then hugging, and kissing and all over again. You had never seen him this happy before. He looked like pure joy wrapped in bliss and covered with all the love in the world.

“Oh my god…Oh god. What if I’m not ready? Oh my god, I’m not ready!“ you started freaking out and panicking.

“Are you kidding? You’re going to be the best mom. I’ve seen you with Noah and Harper. You always know what to do and they love you so much. You’re going to be amazing. I have no doubts.”

“I have doubts! Me! I have doubts!”

“Y/n,” he said holding your face and looking deep in your eyes. “Let’s go home and I’ll tell you 1000 reasons I know you are going to be a good mom. And I’m going to tell you over and over until you believe me.”

His eyes always had a way of hypnotizing you and calmed you down.

“Ok,” you said as you wrapped your arms around him and he held you tight.

“I love you so much,” he said.

“I love you too. You better be right or I’m going to be so mad at you.”

It took him 2 days but he eventually convinced you. Then it was his turn to freak out. It was so nice of you two to take turns. He had been so busy keeping you calm and convincing you that you would be a good mom that he didn’t even think about what this made him.

“You know how I know you are going to be a good dad? You don’t give up when things get hard. You let Harper put makeup on you. You fixed her toy that she broke. You love me so you are obviously smart. You are so wonderfully caring and considerate. And your mom raised you right. You’ll know what to do by just being her son. I have no doubts.”

“None?”

“I have zero doubts,” you repeated as you put your arms up around his neck and kissed him. He had his arms low and around your waist. “We have 7 months to prepare. We are going to be fine.”

“You better be right or I’m going to be so mad at you,” he repeated your words back to you. Even when he is scared he is still trying to make you laugh.

With both of you finally done with your freak outs you decided to keep the news between just the two of you for a little while. It was sort of fun keeping a secret. You had both known for about a month so you were now 12 weeks pregnant and definitely starting to show.

You and Sebastian FaceTimed with your family and told them to which your mom cried happy tears. You and Sebastian went to dinner with his mom and stepdad and told them. They were thrilled of course. His mom told you, “Good luck with finding a name. Nothing goes with Stan!” You told a couple of your close friends back in Atlanta and they were sworn to secrecy as were Seb’s close friends.

They all had the same follow up question to the news: when’s the wedding? You never really gave Sebastian a chance to say anything because your response was, “I have bigger priorities right now.”

Everyone asked. Everyone except Chris. God bless him.

“Not drinking Y/n? Are you pregnant or something?” he asked jokingly when he met you and Sebastian for dinner while doing press in NYC.

When you said nothing and Sebastian just smiled Chris turned into a child on Christmas morning.

“No way! Seriously? I’m so happy for you! This is so great!” He stood up and hugged you and then Sebastian. “So I’m like the godfather right? I mean I’m the reason this is happening at all.”

“Yes, Chris you will be the one doing all the hard work,” you sarcastically responded.

“Well, Chris…it’s a great name. Something to think about,” Chris offered.

“Yeah, not happening. Sorry man,” Sebastian said

Dinner was spent catching up. You hadn’t seen Chris in at least 5 months and probably only talked a few times. Sebastian talks to him more. You and Chris were weird. You could work together every day for months and then not see or talk for months but you always picked up right where you left off.

After telling Chris 3 more times that he would not be naming his child Chris, Sebastian looked at you and asked, “You ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go. Chris…thanks for dinner.”

“I’m so happy for you guys,” he said giving you a huge hug and then one to Sebastian. “Hey, I’m back in New York in a few months so if I don’t see you before then just do me a favor. Promise me you’ll think about the name. Middle name would work!”

“Quick. Just walk away,” you said grabbing Sebastian’s hand and walking away.

Once home you went straight into the shower while he returned a call to his manager. You were in there for maybe 5 minutes when Seb walked into the bathroom on the way to the closet. As he walked in he saw you through the steam and the glass doors. Your hands were running through your wet hair and your stomach was beautifully plumped out with his baby.

When you noticed him standing there you simply opened the door and asked “Are you coming in or not?”

He immediately undid his belt and zipper and walked out of his pants while taking his shirt off. Stepping in to join you he walked you backwards until your back hit the wall. Despite it being a hot shower the wall was cold and you took in a deep breath as the temperature change shocked you. His lips were on yours while his hands were massaging your breasts as he leaned against you. You brought your hand down to stroke his cock and he sighed into your mouth.

He slowly moved his hands down your sides stopping at your hips and tightening his grip to pull you even closer. One hand continued to trail down your side to cup your ass and the other reached up to move your stroking arm up around his neck so you would have something to hold on to. With both hands on your ass now he lifted you off the ground and your legs were hooked around his waist.

Wasting no time he lined you up perfectly and with one thrust he was in. He gently moved his hips so he was moving in and out while his mouth was on yours. You broke the kiss when he began to speed up his rhythm and he buried his face in your neck. Your grip on his shoulders was getting tighter and he knew you were close so he didn’t hold back. Giving you all he had he felt you tighten around him as your back arched and his name passed your lips. He loved hearing you say his name and it took only a few more thrusts for him to come.

You brought your hands up to cup his face and kissed him as he set you back on your feet. He told you he loved you as his hands rested on your stomach.

“I love you too. I’d love you even more if you went out and got me a cheesecake.”

“Whatever you want,” he said with a loving smile.

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