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hauntedbythefanficsofmypast · 4 years

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Involves following Fandoms

1. Miraculous Ladybug

2. Percy Jackson

3. Harry Potter

4. Batman/Justice/DC

• Percy, Harry, and Marinette have been internet friends since Mari first received her miraculous.

• The boys are one year older than Mari. So they were 14 and she was 13. So start of Titans Curse, and the Goblet of Fire. This is set during the summer. Before Percy heads for camp, he convinced one of the Hephaestus kids to make him a phone to keep in contact. When Harry returns to school he finds the room of requirements amd finds out his laptop works in there.

• They meet on Mari's vlog where she is complaining about how the adults in her life always let her down.

• Harry agrees whole heartedly Percy says the only person that doesnt let him down is his mom.

• Soon they are best friends and always in contact with they others, Sally and Paul meet them after summer is over and gain two more kids.

• They all tell each other their secrets and try to help each other the best they can.

• They become Instagram famous together and are seen as a trio always posting screen shots of them video chatting.

• Percy and Mari are helping and supporting Harry through everything that happens while he is at Hogwarts.

• Around this time Lila comes into the picture, at first the boys encourage her to fight back. However after she sends them screenshots from her 'friends' they encourage her to drop them all together.

• Mari distances herself from the class and focuses on learning more from Master Fu, while also growing her clientele. She goes from Jagged and Clara, to multiple celebrities from all over. She even designs for some youtubers. She meets the Wayne's when they commission her for one of their galas. She hits it off with Tim when she chugs a pot of coffee infront of him before doing his final fitting.

• Percy takes a quick trip to Gotham once the Wayne's return and interrogates/threatens Tim about Mari.

• Mari and Tim's friendship continues to grow as they text and call all the time.

• Harry and Percy support Marinette when she becomes the Grand Guardian. Percy asks Chiron about the Miraculous and discovers multiple books on them. He convinces Annabeth to copy them and has Hermes send them to Mari. While Harry finds a former Guardian in Knockturn Alley and informs her of the new Grand Guardian he gets Mari the potions she needs for the Kwami.

• Percy and Mari in courage Harry to discover more about his family and to start at Gringotts. Harry discovers his families position in the wizarding word, and how much has been kept from him.

• Harry and Mari encourage Percy to learn even more about his powers. Soon he has control of small storms and has learned how to travel in an instant through mist.

• Harry becomes emancipated at 15 and takes over Lordship of Potter and Ravenclaw. He was surprised to find out his mother was actually adopted into the Evan's family after her parents were killed. Petunia didnt know she was adopted.

• After Kronos is defeated they make plans to finally meet up, boys are 16, Mari 15, they agree on Paris because Mari doesn't feel comfortable leaving her city in case of attack. They meet up a few weeks before school is set to start for Percy and Mari.

• Harry floos to his family home in Paris and opens the wards before messaging Percy saying it safe. Percy mist travels in to his house and immediately drops his bags hugging Harry tightly. Before they both hurry off to the Bakery.

• Mari's parents are very nice and loving but they expect their daughter to be an adult and handle things without them.

• They are surprised when two boys rush into the bakery and their daughter squeals throwing herself at them in a hug. Completely ignoring Alya, Adrien, and Nino.

• Mari completely ignores her old friends refusing to even let go of her boys. She quickly introduces them to her parents before dragging them up to her room.

• For a short while they just pile on to her bed cuddling together happy to be with each other in person than through a video call. After half an hour they finally get up and let Mari pack a small bag.

• She says goodbye to her parents telling them shes going to be spending the night at a friends before they all hurry to Harry's house. Once Mari puts her bag in the living room they change into fancy clothes and head off for dinner reservations at Le Grand Paris.

• They enjoy a quiet dinner together and while they're eating dessert Chloe comes to their table to say hello to Mari. She warns Mari that their class plans on ambushing her at her parents bakery to guilt her into catering their end of summer party, because Lila's baker fell through.

• All four of them laugh at it and Mari pulls out her phone sending her mother a quick message. Telling her to not give her class a thing unless they pay.

• After Harry pays much to Mari and Percy's annoyance they say goodbye to Chloe and leave the restaurant. While walking back to Harry's they are all hugging each other. Mari is in the middle and Percy and Harry's arms are around her wasit and she has hers around them. Lila sees them passing and is quick to take multiple pictures.

• The next day she has the entire class convinced that the three are in a relationship. Lila also convinces them that Mari pushed her down and the boys threatened her.

• Alya is akumatized through her anger, Paris is surprised when two new heros join Ladybug.

• The two new heros are Anaklusmos, Percy using Kaalki because once Kaalki saw Percy he knew that he was the son of his favorite God, and Chimaera. Harry using Ziggy.

• Percy's hero outfit consisted of tight black pants and a long sleeve black shirt. Underneath a dark brown breastplate and greaves. His hair was slightly longer and even wilder than usual and sunglasses hid his eyes from the world. His weapon is a sword.

• Harry's hero outfit was black and white. He wore a white sweater with black assents, black jeans, and the outer coat to battle robes that was black on the outside and white on the inside. He has a mask in which one side is black and the other white. His miraculous transform into small goat horns when in use. His weapon is a staff, because he is a wizard he is able to use the staff as a wand, and it is untraceable.

• Ziggys transformation phrase Ziggy lets climb. Ziggy lets rest.

• Kaalkis transformation phrase Kaalki lets gallop. Kaalki halt.

• Ziggy will be the miraculous of terrian. Harry will be able to use unbreakable vines to either hold akuma or stop larging things from falling.

• They are quick to defeat Alya taking her down before Chat even finds a place to transform.

• Once defeated the trio returns to where they were relaxing along the Seine. Both Mari and Percy giggle at Harry who readjusts his new hair clips blushing slightly. While Percy simply pushes the glasses up to rest on the top of his head.

• They get lunch before Percy mist travels all three of them to Disneyland, where Mari pays for them all to get in.

• There first picture together at Disney is post on each of their Instagrams and their fans go wild after realizing the trio finally met in person. Soon their Instas are filled with different pictures of all of them.

• Meanwhile Alya is blowing up Mari's Insta demanding answers as the class is on the way to the bakery. They try to convince Tom and Sabine to cater but are brushed off by them. The class is upset and demands answers and are not happy to be told that they wont cater because Marinette isn't going to the party and asked them not to.

• The trio finish the night with a picture of them hugging with fireworks in the back. Percy is wearing little mermaid ears, Mari is wearing Ladybug ears, and Harry is wearing sorcerer mickey ears.

• They spend the entire week together and Mari introduces them to her friends in Paris with a promise of coming to their home countries to meet their friends and family next time.

• When Percy and Harry are set to leave they have a long conversation with Kaalki and Ziggy and decide to allow the two Kwamis to stay with their holders. Kaalki is very attached to his new foal and wishes to remain with his chosen. Ziggy is also attached to her kid and wishes to help Harry in anyway possible. Percy and Harry not just swear to protect their Kwamis, they agree to start a new Order of the Guardians. Mari agrees and soon they are planning lessons so she can teach them the language of the Guardians.

• When Harry returns to England he seeks out the former Guardian and infroms her they are starting a new order. The former Guardian takes Harry under her wing and teaches him things, which he teqches Percy and Mari inturn.

• The trio is happy until one day when instead of Percy answering the call its a crying Sally. Sally explains that Percy went missing and no one was able to find him. On top of that Olympus is on lock down.

• Mari and Harry go months without a word from Percy and everyone around them notices their drop. Tim flies out to Paris more often just to keep Mari company when he can. While Harry closes himself off from everyone but Mari.

• A full year passes and in that time Mari has stripped Chat of his miraculous and found a temporary holder in her friend Marc. Harry watched Dumbledore die and is getting ready to fall into hiding, when they finally hear from Percy who had just won his second war.

• The entire time Percy is asleep Kaalki is protecting him and when he wakes up Kaalki informs him of his name and tells him some of his past. Kaalki doesnt have to stay hidden around the demigods because Kaalki is a god himself and the demigods know this. Many Romans are surprised to see Kaalki never leaves Percy's side.

• At first Percy wants to immediately alert his friends but he can barelt find the time and o ly managers to tell his mother that he is alright.

• When the war is over he wastes no time traveling to England and tackling Harry in a hug before taking both of them to Paris. He leaves so fast her doesnt even return to Olympus for the rewards. So in the middle of their hugs and tears Zues/Jupiter transports them to Olympus. Right after he has to deal with a very pissed of Kwami of creation. Everyone watches Tikki tear into Zues while Mari Harry and Percy simply sit in front of Posiden's throne hugging each other tightly.

• For Percy's wish he once again turns down godhood and requests that the roman and greek camps to work together, and makes a personal request to Hecate for both he and Mari to be given Magic. Hecate agrees under the condition that Percy helps Harry take down Tom Riddle and that Mari helps once she is done with Hawkmoth. Posiden pulls them aside and informs Mari that Gabriel is Hawkmoth Nathalie is Mayrua. Once they are done Percy introduces Mari and Harry to the 7 and his cousins before they head off to meet Sally and Paul in person.

• After meeting Sally all three head to Gotham and meet with the Waynes and Mari and the boys find it funny that the only people that knew of Mari and Tim were Bruce and Alfred.

• Mari tells Tim the complete truth and how within the next few months she may die. Tim takes it and in turn tells her about him being Red Robin, then asks her to marry him. She agrees and they have a wedding at Wayne manor the next day.

• Harry meets Kara and his attention is stolen by the blonde. They gets along amazingly and exchange phone numbers. Harry even introduces her to Ziggy who also likes Kara. What really causes Harry to fall for her is when she wraps her arms around his waist and flies up into the air. Both of them bonding over their love of flying while Harry tries to stop out his blush over he lifting him like it was nothing.

• Percy returns to England with Harry and they go in the hunt together while Mari takes a final stance against Hawkmoth.

• Mari defeats Hawkmoth and Mayura unmasking them on national tv right before the battle of hogwarts happens. Once she is done she infroms her parents that she finished her last year of Lycée online and was traveling to England.

• Mari arrives in England after Percy and Harry sneak into Hogwarts. With the help of Tikki she finds her way to Hogwarts and finds her boys.

• Mari is heartbroken when Harry says goodbye to Ziggy and places one hair clip in Maris hair and the other in Percys. He tells them how much he loved them and asked them to say goodbye to Kara for him.

• Percy forces himself to stay strong but breaks when he sees Hagrid carrying Harry's body. While Harry jumps up both Mari and Percy are crying as they fight harder.

• The next day on the front page of the Prophet theres a picture of the three of them in the great hall after the battle curled together and hugging each other.

• After the war the trio goes to Gringotts and Harry has Percy and Mari officially adopted into the potter family before they return to Gotham. Mari and Tim had a bigger wedding for the public announcing to Gotham that they were married. It became known as the wedding of the century because both of them wanted to keep the Wayne families persona. Marinette drops Dupain-Cheng and becomes Marinette Potter-Drake-Wayne.

• Percy walks her down the aisle before sitting down and Harry is standing as her 'maid of honor' Percy takes Annabeth as his date and Harry takes Kara.

• After their honeymoon traveling the world Percy and Harry reveal that they both moved to Gotham. Both are going to catch up on their school work and then go to college. Meanwhile Percy begins campaigning for a cleaner Gotham. He uses a Sanddollar to clean the waters and instructed the Water nymphs to immediately alert him if someone attempts to dump. That when Gotham gains a new hero Anaklusmos. A few months later Chimaera and Ladybird join the scene as well. They focus more on the petty crimes and keeping the city cleaner while the Bat fam focus on the really bad guys.

• Mari joins with Wayne Enterprises and grows her own Fashion empire, while Percy gets his degree in marine biology and Harry in teaching.

• A few years later Mari has all but forgotten about her old class until she takes a trip to Pairs with time to visit her parents and Chloe and they find a class reunion at Le Grand Paris. Lila and Alya try and put Mari down, and are surprised when she laughs. She kisses Tim cheek softly before turning to them, and introduces herself and Tim. Leaving the entire class in shock. They watch Mari walking away with Tim as Chloe walks through the doors to them a bounce in her step.

#ml salt fic #ml x dc #lila salt #alya+salt #batfam #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #harry potter #marinette dupen chang #miraculous marinette #miraculous ladybug #batman #maribat #timmari #the lightning thief

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supersonic-womanofyou · 4 years

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My first attempt at an interview fic! Read this on Ao3, or under the cut.

Spotlight on Eric Bittle

Interview by Elizabeth Chu

Photographs by Jack Zimmermann

The internet personality, author, and baker talks about his childhood, his relationship with Providence Falconers captain Jack Zimmermann, being a LGBTQ role model, why he struggled with his overnight success, and his upcoming cookbook.

I meet Eric Bittle in person for the first time on a Saturday afternoon, in a trendy coffee shop in downtown Providence. Even though I’ve heard of it in passing, I’ve never been inside. Eric obviously has, since when I approach the table where he’s chosen to sit, Eric is already chatting familiarly with one of the waitresses.

But after a couple minutes talking to Eric, I mentally revisit that assumption. Eric Bittle has a way of putting people at ease, of making even the most distant strangers feel like long-lost friends-- through his warm personality, but also through his seemingly-never ending supply of homemade baked goods. By the time I sit down across from him, I’m already in possession of a whole pie and two jars of jam.

Most of the celebrities I’ve met have on screen personalities that are vastly different in person, but the Eric Bittle I meet that Saturday could have been pulled directly out of his Netflix series or one of the episodes from his vastly popular vlog. He’s perennially bright and cheery, with a Southern drawl that’s been blunted by years in New England, but is still very present. When I mention it, Eric laughs. “I used to hate my accent, but I think it’s become as part of my brand as pies are. I’d probably lose all of my followers if I started talking like a Yankee,” he jokes.

The source of Bittle’s accent is his hometown-- Madison, Georgia, a town of barely four thousand people. When I ask what drove him to move up north, he gestures to himself as a whole. “Not too many opportunities for a baking, skating, Beyonce-loving gay boy in Morgan County.” He turns more serious, though, when he continues: “I was bullied a lot as a child. When I think back to my childhood, to living in Georgia-- for people who looked or acted different, it could be suffocating. I remember feeling like my future was just so starkly outlined for me-- going to a state school, settling down with a nice girl, spending the rest of my life just pretending. It sounds like overdramatic teenage angst now, I know, but I always knew if I wanted to live honestly, I needed to get out.”

And so Eric applied-- and was accepted to--Samwell University in Massachusetts, which touts itself as one of the most LGBTQ friendly schools in America, under the motto “one in four, maybe more.” According to Eric, it’s where he began to come to terms with himself and his identity, where he finally said the words “I’m gay” out loud, where he continued to bake and vlog and began to think seriously about a career in both, and where, perhaps most famously, he met his now-husband, Providence Falconers captain Jack Zimmermann.

“We both played on the hockey team, but we weren’t exactly friends at first,” Bittle says about his relationship with Zimmermann.

So, of course, I have to ask him-- what is it like, being a baker married to a hockey player? Eric and his husband seem like almost comical counterpoints in every aspect of their careers and personalities. Eric makes his living through baking and cooking, Jack plays in the notoriously-macho NHL. Eric has built a brand and a food empire off of cheeriness and Southern hospitality, Jack has a reputation of being a “hockey robot,” with his cold, generally disagreeable demeanor during interviews.

“Well, with it all laid out like that, it really does sound like we’re night and day,” Eric laughs. “But honestly? We just work. We both love skating-- that’s what we bonded over in college, actually. We also both technically majored in history, even though we have very different specialities and did so for pretty different reasons. But even our differences are compatible. Like, I love talking, he doesn’t, so we’re never talking over each other or silent. Also, pro hockey players have to eat an insane number of calories, so Jack’s always there to eat my cooking, and that’s really all I can ask for.”

Eric and Jack, who played on a line together briefly at Samwell, took the sports world by storm seven years ago when they kissed on the ice after the Falconers won the Stanley Cup, making Jack the first openly LGBTQ player in the NHL. The pair broke yet another barrier for LGBTQ people in hockey soon after, when Eric became the first openly gay NCAA Division I hockey captain.

When I ask Eric if he ever thought about following in his partner’s footsteps and pursuing a career in professional hockey, he just laughs. “Oh, definitely not. I love being on the ice, but I don’t think I would have made it very far in the NHL or AHL.”

His fame may have started out in the (relatively niche) world of professional hockey, but since graduating from Samwell, Eric has found incredible success beyond the legacy of that historic kiss. His first book, published five years ago, spent several weeks on the New York Times Food and Diet bestseller list, and was applauded as a fresh, vibrant take on Southern cuisine and desserts. Check, Please reads as seventy percent cookbook, thirty percent memoir, with every page infused with Bittle’s indomitable, ubiquitous personality. His vlog, which he started in high school and has updated continuously ever since, has millions of subscribers, who tune in every week to hear Bittle talk about everything from pies and cookies to relationships and family. Finally, and perhaps most famously, Bittle hosted his own Netflix series last year, applauded as a combination of Marie Kondo and Queer Eye, in which he taught baking with his usual brand of positivity and universal appeal, interspersed with feel-good moments and life lessons.

It strikes me that while Bittle’s career may have been jump-started by his relationship with Jack Zimmermann, he’s certainly managed to make a name for himself in the years since. To the hockey world, he may still be an afterthought to Jack Zimmermann, but to the baking world (and a good portion of Netflix’s viewership), the name Jack Zimmermann is an afterthought to that of Eric Bittle.

“Jack definitely gets a kick out of it when we’re in public together and I get recognized, and he doesn’t,” Eric says. “It’s kind of crazy, actually-- I definitely couldn’t have imagined all this ten years ago, back in college or in high school.”

And what did Eric imagine himself doing? “To be honest, I don’t think I had any idea. When I decided to go to Samwell, I didn’t even have a major in mind or anything. I just wanted to get out of Georgia. And at Samwell-- I mean, I majored in American History, of all things. Talk about a useless degree! I literally just chose the major that let me take the most baking or baking-adjacent classes.” He pauses, and laughs. “It drives Jack crazy, actually-- I never have a plan for anything, really, big or small. I’m the kind of person who just crosses my fingers and hope it all shakes out for the best.”

His husband’s opinion aside, this tactic seems to have worked out pretty well for Eric. His next, eagerly anticipated cookbook, which follows much in the vein of his Netflix show, is due to come out in two months this August. “It’s going to be focused on easy, cheap cooking and baking that’s still healthy and fulfilling. I think there’s a mindset that to make tasty, healthy food you need to have expensive ingredients and tools, or a lot of time on your hands, or have a lot of experience. But like-- I made food for an entire hockey team in a frat house on a college student’s allowance for four years, so I know something about cooking healthy on a budget,” he jokes. “I really just want to make good, healthy food accessible for everyone.”

Well, he’s managed to do that, and more. Eric Bittle’s career so far has certainly been a whirlwind. He’s gone from publishing his first cookbook to hosting his own show in what’s only been a matter of years.

“I do have to pinch myself sometimes, “ Eric says about his dizzyingly quick ascent to fame. “Like, Carrie Underwood tagged me in a tweet about hockey husbands the other day. Carrie Underwood!” The disbelief is clear in his voice. “I mean, Jack’s always been the bigger fan of country music, but the Georgia boy in me had to lie down for a moment when I saw the notification. So I think-- I still can’t really believe all of it, you know? It feels like yesterday I was still about to graduate college, with barely any plan and procrastinating on my thesis. And I guess sometimes-- sometimes I do feel a bit guilty, you know? Like-- there’s so many people fighting for this, fighting for what I’ve got-- getting books published, getting a show, everything else. I definitely had a leg up in name recognition because of Jack and hockey, and even when Jack and weren’t married yet, I never had to worry about having a roof over my head if the vlog wasn’t bringing in enough money or the cookbook wasn’t selling well enough.” He pauses, pensive, and it’s not the first time in this conversation that I mentally reassess my first assumptions about Eric Bittle. Behind the nationally famous smile and welcoming accent is a thoughtful young man still grappling with becoming a public figure and a role model, with a sprinkling of imposter syndrome, who doesn’t understand exactly what millions of people across the country see in him.

But perhaps that as well is an unfair assessment. It’s clear that Eric has a refreshing genuiness that few public figures possess, and that this is part of what has managed to speak to so many people from all backgrounds. That on some level, his modesty about his own fame is part of what constitutes his appeal.

When I mention this, Eric flushes a bright shade of pink. “Oh, aren’t you a flatterer. Well, I suppose so.”

So after this cookbook, what’s next? Is fatherhood on the horizon?

“I did mention that I never have a plan, didn’t I?” he quips. But he does confide that he and Jack have been talking about having a family. “We’ve always wanted kids, but there’s always been something going on. Jack’s job and being on roadies all the time, me trying to get my career started. We don’t want our kids to be raised by babysitters and nannies, you know? We want to be there for them, so while it’s definitely something we’re considering, we’re trying to balance timing. But it has been a couple years, so.” He blushes. “We’re revisiting the idea.”

“But other than that-- I have been approached about the possibility of some other projects and shows in the future, but I probably can’t talk about those,” he says. “And though it’s always been a dream of mine to own a bakery, that would be a pretty huge commitment. So I guess I’m just trying to say that I’m not really sure exactly what comes next.” Nevertheless, he grins, as if to say, and isn’t that exciting ?

Fatherhood or his own bakery-- I’m sure that no matter what comes next for Eric Bittle, he’ll forge ahead with his characteristic positivity and Southern grace, with plenty of baked goods along the way. *

#omgcp #eric bittle #jack zimmermann #interview #multimedia fic #art #magazine #fic #omgcp fic #zimbits #pov outsider #omgcheckplease

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silvia7272 · 3 years

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Miraculess Ladybug Salt AU: You Always Liked To Play With Fire ~ Blossoming Friendships???

I really hope you’re all enjoying this new series; I honestly just came up with the idea on a dime, and then after I started developing it, I knew I needed to share it with all of my fans.

Also, when I actually get around to including more characters from the movie, it’s gonna be fun giving them some personality traits. I can’t wait.

And er-… I may have accidently messed up with some off the names. Since I changed most off the names already, I then decided to change them for Barbara and Olympia, however I had forgotten that I’d already written their names down in the story. Opps. I thought this would’ve been better since I think I saw some people complain about the United Hero’s super names, so I changed them, as well as if I’m going to add in going to Gotham into the mix and there’s already a character called Barbara, I just know I’ll get hella confused for who I’m talking about. I don’t want people to get confused but maybe I should make a post off the names I’ve already changed to begin with, just to defer from canon. Well, here it is.

My OC: Rosaniline Keyne-Hill was Rosina Scoats

Soliane Rin was Crisono Tassa

Canon Counterparts: Jace Keyne was Jessica Keyne

Aveon Keyne-Hill was Aeon Hill

Medusa was Uncanny Valley

(I kept Olympia the same)

Nebula was Majestia

Brianna was Barbara

Eostrix was Night Owl

So, I might just change them when I can be bothered to.

This fanfic and its ideas were all made before season 4 came out, so if something doesn’t add up please don’t worry. That information wasn’t available then, and unless it fits into my story or I like it, I won’t include it in my story. Also, that new Miraculous wiki can get lost, I’m not putting any of that new information in here if they couldn’t even put it in the show. (Also, so far, I do not care for season 4 whatsoever so yeah, I may not include any of that in this work and the other.)

Word Count: 9435

Tags: @vixen-uchiha if you wish to be tagged all you have to do is say. Also, if you change your name please tell me, I don’t want to leave you out since you’ve asked to be tagged. I’m very sorry if I’ve missed anyone.

Well, I hope you’ll enjoy it.

Summary:

Note: This fic contains OOC scenes of Miraculous Ladybug as well as a ton of salt, so if you don't like that stuff you may scroll past and have a nice day.

In a world with no Miraculous, no Hawkmoth and no Ladybug, how does our little heroine do?

Well, it usually would be hanging out with her friends, as any other teenager would do...

But, of course, this wasn't normal.

This was reality. It was cold, hard and definitely not welcome.

So, when this girl wishes to have some kind of adventure in her boring, mundane life…

How long does it take for her to regret it?

***

Mlle Bustier had always believed her students were the best in the whole Collège.

In fact, she whole-heartedly believed that all her students could do no harm.

In her mind, they were at the peak of maturity, though they may be in their adolescence and had some seemingly petty dramas, they all prevailed to take whatever they wanted for themselves, when they saw opportunities, they rightfully took.

And Mlle Bustier only wanted the best for her students.

As much as Caline would never admit it to any of her work colleagues, she always knew her class was exceptional.

Kim, Alix, what with two of the sportiest people that were bound to succeed.

Max, A genius who was able to develop a fully functioning AI, when he was a teen no less. She could only imagine what other inventions her little Einstein could invent later on. The type of universities he’d get into, the job offers, oh the endless possibilities.

Ivan, Rose, Juleka, A lead vocalist, guitarist, and drummer in a popular rock band. Though she had heard there may have been a few mishaps in the band, she was sure they would be even better than before.

Mylène, A passionate environmentalist who only wanted to help the world become a cleaner place, and entered as many organisations as possible.

Nino, An inspiring DJ/filmmaker. She always wanted to help out by lending the classroom key afterschool, that way he could work on all of his works. Allowing everyone to take part even, it was truly one of her best rules.

Alya, A journalist's whose goal was to become bigger than Lois Lane.

Adrien, A model, the most famous teenage one by Parisian standards.

Chloé, The mayor's Daughter.

Sabrina, The head of police’s Daughter.

Nathaniel, an inspiring comic book artist that had gained a lot of attention online.

And Lila, a Daughter of an Italian diplomat.

Although she could admit to herself that not all of these aspirations were something that she could boast about, she could show off that all of her students had something they would work for or even show off.

And what did the others have?

Two weather girls and a writer? Caline would have to laugh, compare that with her class and you could clearly see who was at the top.

Although she hadn’t said a specific name for a reason.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The young fashion designer/baker’s girl.

For a while, that name had left a sour name in her mouth, whenever she had been forced to say it for the register, it only took her a few days for her to realise how much it annoyed her whenever said girl was late to her lesson. Honestly, did that girl not value punctuality? Nevermind in the workplace; what about her reputation as a teacher?

She was becoming a lot more reclused, gaining a disrespectful attitude towards her she had no recollection of when she had gained it, and became incredibly upset when she remembered every year on her birthday, the girl would give her a whole assortment of pastries and desserts.

Now, because she had somewhat highly encouraged her students to send gifts for a better grade, it was just a box of chocolates.

Just a small box of chocolates!?

How could she show off her gifts to the others now!?

And worst of all?

She refused to be the good little Class President anymore.

Her example?

Her Marinette off the world?

Did she not care about setting a good example? Or to be a role model to the class?

Really, to be so selfish, to all of her friends, how ungrateful.

She believed she had sorted this little problem when Chloé, in a fit off understandable jealousy, drew over her gift.

Marinette was unreasonably angry at the poor girl, and so Bustier had said how better it would be for her to rise up and become a beacon of light for Chloé instead of letting that hate and anger fester inside her.

To let go and help out everyone.

To not let your negative side take a hold of you and be positive around everyone in your vicinity.

After all, sharing and helping makes the world go round, and we do want to help the world, right?

She remembered those words she had spoken so fondly to her, as she was always someone anyone could come to for advice. It had always worked after all, after students were able to see the correct side, she’d be thanked which always left a small flutter of happiness around her.

Mendeleiev scared many students away, D’Argencourt with his eccentric personality, made students want to avoid being seen near him after lessons ended, and hardly anyone spent their time in the art club room.

Caline believed she was seen as a shining example of light by the other students, and knew she was seen as a Disney Princess by many, Rose had even called her that once.

However, getting back to the matter at hand, she was very pleased when Marinette had gone out of her way to make Chloé happy, of course, her attitude still remained mostly the same but Caline was smart enough to know it wouldn’t take one nice event to help the girl, so she was so proud when she carried on helping the poor girl out. Chloé was smiling more and even asking for a multitude of things from the blue-haired girl, and if she ever saw Marinette get unreasonably upset again, she’d send a very disappointing glare.

She knew being disappointed in students was a sure-fire way for them to do better and work harder, she knew how guilty her students would feel if they ever managed to get that gaze from their teacher, and… If the elder had done this a bit more on Marinette than anyone else… Well, she would just smile, telling them how much Marinette was able to accomplish, her trips for the class were so good, everyone was jealous. So, didn’t that seem good?

And even though she did see most of it going in the trash, she knew Chloé was just a little bit picky, she’d liked the interest in her, it was normal.

Her home life wasn’t something to be overlooked, she just knew the girl only wished for attention, and she was sure to be able to give it to her.

But then she… Stopped.

Caline had believed the girl had gotten wrongly impatient and told Marinette she shouldn’t be so extreme, but Marinette dared to fight back, against her?

She exclaimed that it wasn’t just Chloé anymore, how could she be expected to be nice to both her and Lila?

Bustier was confused, Lila? What did she have to do with this?

And so, the girl explained that she was just lying for attention, every breath that came out was just a lie. And she couldn’t stand it, she’d apparently turned her friends against her.

Now, normally, Bustier knew Marinette wouldn’t lie.

But, she also knew she couldn’t let this ‘lie’ be revealed.

It might harm her reputation.

She couldn’t have that happen.

So, she knew what she had to say.

That this was just girl drama that all teenagers had.

She couldn’t afford to let her empire fall so soon.

And for something like that.

The faces of the other teachers.

The gossip surrounding her.

“Looks like Caline’s not so good a teacher after all.”

No, she couldn’t bare it.

Who said a little white lie would hurt anyone?

In order to keep her class, exactly the same.

A few snips were made to maintain its image.

And if she had to snip her most prized student.

Then… So be it.

***

When she entered her classroom it was just like any other day.

Her students forming around a desk in the front of the room.

She always commended her students for such actions, she knew how sweet and silent the girl could be and loved how accommodating the class could be to her.

She couldn’t help the wondering gaze that looked upon the back row.

A certain seat was empty, but that was routine by now. And even though there was still 5 minutes till the bell, she still marked her late in her book.

Sometimes Caline had to think if at some points she had expected too much of this single girl… But only to remember that, no, in fact, when Marinette had a better attitude, she had expected too less. Back when she gained some confidence, she had always surpassed her expectations, her trips were the highlight off her job, her morning snacks were a welcomed surprise, her need to prove herself let her have as many responsibilities as possible, yes some were meant to be her own paperwork, but she’d never seen Marinette excel so much, it was a dream come true.

If she could just push her, just a little more… She was sure Marinette would go back to her obedient self, and it would make Bustier’s job a lot easier.

Although… The new student seemed like the perfect candidate as well, since Marinette may not follow her good example, she may be able to get a different example.

She could see just how sweet and pleasant the cherry haired girl was, she’d be perfect for the role. Sneaking a quick glance at the girl who was simply minding her business reading a book and keeping to herself. She did take note she had a bit of a limp for the past week, but didn’t bring it up just to not embarrass the girl in front of the whole class. She just knew if she was able to simply send her views her way, a new example would be made, hell she may even be able to have two if Rosaniline became such a good influence on Marinette she may even change again.

She also just knew Rosann would be good for Chloé, after all, they’d have so much to talk about, and coming from similar backgrounds she could make sure they could be paired together as much as possible.

Of course, only she knew about her family name, Monsieur Damocles had been informed by her residence that they’d prefer not to spread this information about, for it had been such a hinderance for her to make friends before.

Bustier frowned, she knew very well her students wouldn’t try to suck up to her, she almost felt insulted that she wouldn’t trust her students.

But the worst part was that she couldn’t brag about her new student to anyone, no one could find out or they’d all face some action from her Mother, she was very clear on that.

However Bustier tried to not let it bother her too much, after all she was sure she could give a gentle nudge in the right direction about trusting friends and not keeping secrets, to coax her out of her shell. She’d just have to be excruciatingly patient.

Clapping her hands was a symbol for them all to pay attention, she’d never raise her voice to them, not even a little, and she knew they would respect it and quieten down their chatter.

And just like that, the door opened to a fashionably late bluenette. Bustier would feign ignorance to the rather disappointing glares stares the girl was receiving, after all, she was giving one off her own.

She sheepishly walked to her seat just as the bell rang, honestly, she’d given her a lot of warnings before about her punctuality, did she really need to brief her Parents in about the situation?

“Well class, since all of you are here now, I can get on with the lesson” And so began her teaching.

It was fairly simple, she knew her students would be able to easily understand, after all, she knew they were the best, the smartest.

She had to explain the project they were bound to complete to a high standard, she just knew it was another to her list of student’s accomplishments she could brag about.

The project entailed 30% of coursework they must do in pairs in the span of 2 months. They could choose any topic so long as it followed the theme.

And this year’s theme was history, generally her students would groan at this topic, but considering they were able to decide on their personal preferences that should help encourage them to complete it to the best of their ability.

Plus, it helped towards their end of the year grade, and helped their teamwork skills. Of course, Mlle Bustier would always try to be as generous as she could, she wouldn’t remove marks from accidental mistakes unlike a purple haired teacher would, she just couldn’t bear to be so mean to them when she knew they were trying so hard to get all of their marks, she couldn’t punish them for that. Even if it was not necessarily the right thing to do, she couldn’t let there be any wrongful disappointment.

As long as they carried on being a great example, she could never fail them.

Besides everyone loved her projects, while having to be in pairs they always got to present it in any way they wanted, a science experiment, PowerPoint presentation to even a play, she was so very proud when Mylène did that play from last year, so impressive and she had gotten out of her shell. All she had to do was make them follow a simple rule before they could go all out. Her students loved the independence, and when they asked what type of ideas she had, she gleamed and expressed her own interest in the fairy tales. There was so much you could do with so many magical stories and elements, the possibilities were endless. She loved always talking about them in at least all of her lesson as she knew how many life lessons could come out of it.

And besides, in a sense, the other thing that made her the best teacher, she let them pick their own partners.

Of course, she had to make it seem like that.

It was always the same since kindergarten, everyone’s names would be placed in a bowl on a piece of paper, and one by one she’d pick a name up, when she read it out loud other people could raise their hands to ask to be their partner.

Normally it would be the first person to raise their hand, however, Caline wasn’t stupid, there were certain pairs she didn’t always want together.

Such as Alix and Kim, if it were a presentation about sports, she wouldn’t mind as much, knowing they would present a physical display of their athleticism… However, she knew if they were paired up for a slideshow presentation about let’s say, politics. She knew they would only start at the last minute, and include a very messily strown up slideshow. And with Marinette refusing to help out her classmates with even the simplest of matters, her hands were tied.

So, if they ever stuck their hand up for either of them, Bustier would wait to see who else would put their hand up, most of the time it was either Max or Nathaniel respectfully, and since they were all friends, no one had called her out for it.

And that’s how she got around it.

So, she started doing her routine, swirling her hand around the, she picked one up and began to read it aloud.

“Lila Rossi. And who would like to be her partner?” Immediately several hands shot up, bringing a smile on her face again, so many wanted to help this girl it filled her with pride and comfort.

And well, she always had to help by picking the most knowledgeable of students.

“Max, I believe I saw your hand up first” Some students moaned that they couldn’t be with Lila, but they knew that maybe next time they would get a shot.

“Ivan Bruel” Unsurprisingly Mylène’s hand shot up first followed by Juleka and Rose, now normally she wouldn’t let couples be together, but she couldn’t break them up, they did their work so well, so she let it slide.

Grabbing the next piece of paper Caline’s once bright smile, dropped as her eyes scanned over the name before sighing audibly, she didn’t need to hide it, everyone knew whose name it was.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng took a deep sigh.

As soon as Bustier told them about a presentation she was immediately filled with dread.

She could quite easily do it well, or at least get a well enough grade considering Bustier’s shady marking skills.

But her partners influence would be something she dreaded.

Best case scenario, they’ll be so repulsed to be in the same room with her that they’d work independently, and it would more or less seem like two separate presentations in one. Her grade was low.

Worst case scenario, she’d be subjected to either do it alone, or screamed about how much they don’t want to be near her. Her grade would be lowered.

Not theirs, hers.

Bustier would exclaim how she wanted the bluenette to rise above it all and forgive them, and until she was a better student in her eyes, she’d be punished for it.

It didn’t help that when her name was specifically called out, there would be a silence they’ll have to endure for what would seem like eternity.

It would either stop when someone so nobly sacrificed themselves to team up with her or Bustier would be forced to wait until the end for the last name to be picked out.

And she hated having to feel like this.

They were all friends, why did it have to be like this?

And well, just like this silence, it would last for a rather uncomfortable time, more than Marinette liked.

Her head rested on the desk, she at this point didn’t care about her appearance in front of the new girl. It had been a week already and at this point Marinette knew they’d be no point getting to know someone who was bound to abandon her.

It was a despairing truth she’d learn from experience, it was why no one hung around her, even from the other classes, they would be a target next.

Marinette couldn’t blame them, if the situations were reversed, she doubted she’d have enough courage to go out of her way to help.

So, she’d just sit, head on desk as time would pass.

“H-Hey! Why do you have your hand up, we told you how she was a bully, why would you want to be her partner!?”

???

Wait-

That wasn’t meant to happen.

Hesitantly, Marinette picked her head up, only to find her seatmate with an eager hand in the air.

She looked over to her face, a smile present as she glanced towards the teacher, waiting for her to say they would be paired together.

“I want to be Marinette’s partner, and I haven’t seen yet why I shouldn’t” Rosann’s head turned innocently to her classmates, she was radiating happiness as they stared in shock. A blond very much as he did want to be her partner when her name was called out, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

“Marinette! Did you threaten her as well, girl you’re unbelieva-”

“I’m afraid you are being mistaken Mlle Césaire, I wouldn’t willingly make a partnership with my enemy, now Mlle Bustier you may continue if you would please” Marinette gasped, she- she’d just put a target on her back. For her! This girl was crazy…

And yet, despite her cute appearance, she hadn’t seen someone look so confident and polite.

‘Wait did I say cute-’

Even though the girl had stated her answer, it wasn’t the answer the class was looking for.

“Mlle Bustier you can’t put their names down together” Someone protested. It sounded like Lila, she was always leading the class for this sort of thing.

“Yeah, put my name down for Rosaniline instead, we know she doesn’t mean it.” That was Alya.

“But I-” She felt guilty for the new girl, she really did, she would’ve warned her how you’ll never truly be able to say your opinion without everyone interfering or as she put it, butting in.

“She doesn’t know what’s she’s gotten herself into, the poor girl” Rose spoke, if Marinette wasn’t so used to it she’d flinch from the words Rose spoke about her.

What was bad, Rosann wasn’t able to speak.

What was worse, Bustier was very much considering it.

“I guess it would be for the best” Marinette couldn’t believe it. The one person who willingly decided to pair up with her, was being ignored to be partnered up with someone else.

Not that Marinette wanted them to be with someone else mind you, but it was their decision, why wasn’t she spared a thought and have people notice that maybe they didn’t have to decide for her?

What was crueller, was that Marinette found the one person that was on her side… Was the one person who was the first to make her clamper up.

“This is ridiculous absolutely ridiculous” Of all people, it had to be her to join in?

“How extremely hypocritical of you Mlle Bustier, if I couldn’t change my partner from the last project then neither does Dupain-Cheng in this one, isn’t this school meant to teach fairness. Well, the only fair thing I see is the fairly incompetent from this class” Of course the students didn’t take kindly to her words as Bustier sighed yet again.

She knew Chloé had a point, she’d tried to persuade Chloé to have a different partner than Sabrina a few times in previous projects, it would depend on the person, if Chloé didn’t mind, she’d moan but nothing else. If it was someone she didn’t like, she’d threaten to call the mayor, most of the times she wouldn’t considering out of all the teachers even Chloé would admit she liked Bustier the most, she’d never blame her for anything and she loved that about her, but she had a point none the less.

Besides, Bustier believed that maybe Rosaniline would prove to be a very good example to her previous one, and this could be a great place to start.

“Yes Chloé, I believe I understand now, it would be highly unfair if we didn’t let Rosaniline decide for herself” Marinette couldn’t help the somewhat annoyed glance she gave to the teacher for that comment.

“But Mlle-”

“No buts Alya, now why don’t we use the idea Chloé suggested?” The class all heard the snicker from Chloé, they couldn’t believe she could stoop so low like this.

And then it carried on like it had been, but Marinette couldn’t help but let her curiosity get the better of her and as the class was carrying on, Marinette swallowed the gulp that had formed in her throat and turned to the girl next to her.

“Err- Rosaniline?” She gently tapped the girl’s shoulder, she turned and showed she was listening.

“Yes?” Oh god Mari don’t lose confidence now.

“Why, why did you do that?” With that, she saw a smirk emerge from the girl.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious, but I am rather petty since I refuse to take the word of someone else before doing my own research” Oh. Somehow that wasn’t what she was expecting, but honestly it was better than pretending to care.

“Although… I should apologise, for how abrupt I was about it” Marinette widened her eyes, why- she didn’t do anything wrong?

“I would’ve preferred asking for your consent first, but seeing the opportunity I may have taken it rather quickly” She grasped one of her braids, a nervous habit maybe, Marinette couldn’t help but notice before giving her answer.

“N-No its fine, I-I don’t mind you being my partner, not like I’ve got anyone better- I mean- I didn’t mean it like that. I just- erm, I just. I’m glad you thought about me” If Marinette had been able to look past her hair, she would’ve noticed the small blush creep up on her cheeks.

“No problem”

***

Normally, a weekend would be extremely relaxing to the young designer.

She had as much time to sleep in, plus she started a late shift anyway, her Parents were the best when it came to that, since they knew how much trouble she had getting up on a school day, they knew they couldn’t ask her to get up early for work, especially since it was their workplace.

And she had completed other homework assignments a while ago, so surely there was no reason for why she should be pacing around in the living room so early for her.

Well, it may or may not have something to do with the new girl.

She really should stop calling her new girl, she gave her her name for god’s sake.

But she just felt so nervous.

She told her Parents about this new assignment, and how she actually volunteered to be her partner, and how Marinette in the spur of a moment offered to go to her place on Saturday to start it. And she couldn’t deny when she saw the relieved expression she had when she offered. But now…

She hadn’t had someone over in years, everyone else avoided this place like the plague, the Parents still came though, and although they were slightly informed of the situation, they also just believed it was teenage drama.

Her own Parents showed their own worry, they loved their girl, and they truly didn’t want her to ever be hurt like last time ever again, but they also knew if she never gave this girl a shot, she’d never know.

Was it better to know than to ponder it forever?

That was a phrase Marinette was all too familiar with. However, it still didn’t calm her nerves.

Her Parents had told her if she didn’t want Rosaniline to be around anymore, they’d be more than happy to just so happen have an event take place right at that moment that she would have to leave, even if Marinette hoped that wouldn’t happen.

So, as she continued to pace, she was able to see from her balcony the Parisians all around, her doorway was slightly ajar so she could hear the sound of birds chirping, cars passing, and a motorcycle coming to a stop.

The noise of a motorcycle made her come to a fond thought of her Nonna. She loved her very much, and her free spirit.

Whenever she came back from one of her grand trips, she’d always get Marinette some type of fabric that always made her determined to incorporate into some type of clothing.

It was somewhat why she always stayed in the path of fashion, not just because her Parents would be disappointed in seeing her so unmotivated, but because she still liked the challenge of turning fabric into something.

She giggled, besides that thing from last week, it was the only adventurous thing she had done.

The sound of steps interrupted her as she saw her Maman, she nodded before Marinette felt a slight drop in her stomach.

She was here, she just needed to calm down, it would be fine.

She’d just smile and brace for it.

Walking down the stairs to her bakery was the same as always, she could smell the fresh bread from the oven. She always appreciated this aspect, living in a bakery always meant the aroma was lovely.

Going through the door after her Maman she braced herself to see the ne- er, Rosaniline.

What she didn’t brace for was the little girl cuddling her leg as soon as she entered.

“Hi, my names Piper, can we go to your room now?” She had to compose herself so she wouldn’t fall over with the girl in tow, but she couldn’t help internally awwing at the little kids’ appearance.

Black hair tied back in a red bow, a pink leotard with a lighter coloured tutu skirt. And a short but worn-out blue cape. And to top it all off, sparkly pink shoes faded to orange.

“O-Oh, hi there.” She gave a little wave, still completely confused.

“I’m so sorry Mari, Piper was just too excited to meet you, I’m very sorry for the shock” She saw a concerned look coming from Rosaniline. She sure did fret a lot- ah, she knew she didn’t mean it as a bad thing she just, well, she was used to being quiet and observing.

“Its fine really, but how come you brought your… Sister here?” She was unsure if the guess was right but considering the nod from the other girl, she relaxed knowing she was right. And considering she had to ignore a comment made from her Parents about a nickname she was given, she could just ignore that.

“I’m so sorry for the late notice, it’s just, something came up and I couldn’t find anyone able to take care of her. I’m really sorry for not telling you before but I- I don’t have your phone number so I couldn’t tell you. Eheh. I promise she won’t cause any trouble. Right?” The smaller girl, now back at her Sister’s side, bounced and repeated yes several times.

She looked to her Parents, almost asking them if it was alright, this whole situation caught her slightly off guard, and she momentarily forgot the question was directed at her.

Luckily her Maman was ready.

“Of course its fine, my, your Sister is such a cutie. And what’s your name sweetie?” Her Mother crouched down to make eye level. The girl puffed her chest out before standing straight up.

“My name is Piper Keyne-Hill ma’am, and I am 6 years old” She held one hand up before she looked up.

“Did I do it right?” Rosaniline smiled before bending down to her level as well.

“Do you believe that is the right answer?” Her use of that caused attention to Piper’s hand as the little one looked back, she gasped before proudly extending another finger up.

“There you go” She ruffled her hair as Marinette saw her Mother continue talking with Piper.

And yet… She felt that dread from earlier flee away, seeing Rosaniline interacting with her Sister so fondly brought heat to her cheeks and inside. She just, felt so calm around her.

And that warm smile…

She, kinda wanted her to smile like that to her…

“Marinette?” That broke her out of her trance, she looked over at her Papa who had a confused look.

“Shouldn’t you two start working on the project?”

“Huh? Oh- oh yeah, yes of course the project… Eh, Rosaniline lets go, I’ve got some kid books to keep Piper company” She didn’t mind the weight on her arm, or the way her Parents smiled at her interactions with the cherry haired girl.

She just minded how heavy her heart was pounding for some reason.

Marinette never considered her room big, she always found it spacious, it might be due to her always misplacing at least something when she’s in a rush, but she knew where it would be.

Stepping over to her desk draw, she pulls out a bunch of child books, since Nadja always did spring a babysitting job on her, she figured there was no reason to place them somewhere that would be too much of a hassle to keep getting out. So, she kept them closer.

Turning back, she saw the two looking around her room, Piper held so much excitement as Rosaniline wore a smile.

“Woooooow, it’s so pink, Rosalee what type is it?” Tugging at her Sister’s cardigan the older girl smiled.

“There are many different types, so I doubt I know the exact one… But I’d say it was a coral pink” She pattered her head as she too looked over the room, a somewhat reminiscent expression as she takes it all in.

“Mari I’m so jealous, to be able to live in a bakery with all of those magnificent smells around every day, it must be like heaven” Marinette scratched her head, ok- this was all so different, no matter how much she wanted to go back to her usual self, there was always something holding her back. Almost like, if she fell in this trap again, she’d mess it up, before she could be comfortable.

There she goes again, over thinking the situation like before.

No wonder-

“Ahh- it’s a tiger, look look” Piper’s voice brought her out of it as she saw Piper sitting in Rosaniline’s legs.

“Mmhmmn, so, Mari should we get started?” Marinette could only nod before they pulled out some books to get started.

***

‘This was easier when I had to do it on my own’ The bluenette thought, now don’t get her wrong, they weren’t arguing or anything, they just couldn’t exactly agree on a subject together.

When Rosaniline suggested gory fairy tales, she had to physically force herself not to shudder, fortunately the girl opposite her said it was a mere jest, thinking it would’ve been funny to see the teachers face when they spoke about it, but maybe it would be too much.

Rosaniline even joked that they may not have anything in common at all, that did nothing to soothe the young girls’ nerves. She just knew this might not have been the best decision, if they couldn’t find a topic, she knew Bustier would blame her for it, and if Bustier blamed her no doubt the class would as well. And it would just be one more point for them as they’d slowly but surely turn Rosaniline away from her.

It’s not like she would be disappointed or anything, it’s just, she’d rather be right now than in the future with her hopes up.

But, it didn’t help that her feelings were so mixed about this. Why was it she wanted to get to know Rosaniline?

Knock knock.

“Girls, I think you’re due a break now, don’t you?” Marinette was relieved, surely after some food they’ll be able to come up with at least one idea.

“Yes, Mlle Dupain-Cheng, that would be lovely.”

“Now stop that, you can call me Sabine, aw such a polite child you are” She blushed as she rubbed the back of her head.

“Marinette dear, mind if you help me?” Her eyes were confused, her Maman would normally never ask for help, what was so different now?

But not wanting to cause a scene she nodded and proceeded to climb down, just as Piper was moving onto a different type of picture book.

Going over to the kitchen she saw that her Mother had prepared so much food it would’ve looked like a feast, but that was how she was, whenever guests came over you could see more food on a table than a table.

She hoped Rosaniline and Piper had an appetite.

“Is everything alright dear?” She felt her Maman’s hands on her shoulders, it was always reassuring that her Parents did so much to look out for her, even when she pretended to be just fine her Parents would give her time just to be by herself if she needed it and then be there if she wanted to talk.

“Yes Maman, she’s really nice… We just haven’t figured out what topic to do yet.” She laughed nervously as her Mother couldn’t help but give a somewhat serious expression.

“You know, if you at all feel uncomfortable, we can still make up an excuse-” She shook her head.

“No Maman its fine really, if anything we’ll just keep it to the school library… She’s- I don’t know, I can’t explain it, I just feel-”

“Relaxed?” Her Mother finished the sentence for her, she nodded as Sabine thought how glad this girl was making her feel.

“Alright, well then get back up there, you don’t want her thinking you abandoned her?” She nudged her cheek as Marinette pushed her hand gently. She gave her Mum a kiss on the cheek before making her way back up to her room.

She couldn’t explain the feeling much, it was like she was feeling peaceful, a smooth tranquillity around her.

It wasn’t a feeling she had around her older friends, it always seemed like whatever they did was rushed, no time to process it. Or they didn’t let her speak.

Rosaniline did, she let her speak, she listened to her, she made her- feel.

She didn’t want that feeling to go away.

“Piper- I know you like this book, but I don’t think you should be flicking through it.”

“But why? Marilee gave me these. And they look so pretty I want one.” The little one responded, she didn’t demand, she was raised better than that.

“Well, I don’t think she meant to give you this one.” She was confused, wait what book was it?

Her heart stopped as she saw a pink cover-

That- that was her commission book!

She was rushing too much to even notice that she’d given Piper that one book.

Oh god, she was going to see her secret, that she was starting her own commission blog, that she was MDC- that she could tell everyone at Collège Françoise Dupont, and it could ruin her career. That everyone could post lies about her, making nobody trust her and demand refunds, and maybe she’d get taken in by the police- be sent to jail and never have her dream job of-

“Mari? Hey, Mari can you hear me?” She felt warm hands wrap around her own. She could feel herself look up as silver concerned eyes looked back at hers.

She felt another tug at her skirt, looking down to see Piper with her own worried expression.

“Did I make Marilee upset?” It was a simple question that pulled at her heartstrings, she felt tears prickle at her eyes for her overthinking. But she didn’t mean for Piper to be upset, or for Rosaniline to be worried either.

There she went again, overthinking every little thing that she couldn’t account for, why did she have to be this way, why did she have to be so cynical and downright negative.

“Oh no, heavens no Piper, I just- er had something in my eye, yeah. You didn’t do anything Piper, I’m glad you like the books I gave you.” Piper smile grew as she proceeded to drag Marinette over to the books again.

She seemed to be putting on an act though, from what Rosaniline could see. She was panicking over something, why? She didn’t know, she did want to find out but didn’t want to push it. She had a habit of wanting to find out answers, it wasn’t a bad thing, she remembered her Mum say, it’s just sometimes she could be just a teeny bit insensitive about it.

Looking over the scene she saw her little Sister pointing excitedly at the pages of sketched clothing, her saying how much she loved them and all the colours that she used and said how the author was so creative.

Marinette laughed along, her tears faded as she enjoyed Piper’s enthusiasm, almost making a note to definitely make her something- and for Rosaniline of course, it’ll be weird to make it for one and not the other.

And then- an idea struck.

“I know, why don’t we do it about the history of fashion?” The dark-skinned girl spoke up. She saw two heads turn towards her as she grinned. Putting her hands together near her cheeks as she spiralled in her own thoughts.

“I’ve always wanted to learn more about it, to see the transformations going through all the ages. And this could be the perfect time. So, what do you think?” It was a question that seemed as if she could reject it, but it still felt like a trick.

What if she didn’t suggest this as a solution, but for convenience for herself, since now she knew she liked fashion and would make her do all the work, it’s not like it hadn’t happened before, so why did it hurt so much to have her do it?

Did she have any right to object, wouldn’t it seem like she was being way to fussy? They already saw her sketches before, so she couldn’t deny she was a good artist. But then what if the others thought it was her idea?

That she made Rosaniline chose this subject, and get told how selfish to have done so, a disappointing gaze from Bustier, a disapproving gaze from Adrien, she felt her chest tighten up again, oh god, she was overthinking again, why did she have to be like this?

“Hey- hey Mari, we don’t have to if you don’t want… I-er saw you liked videogames; we could always do it about that if you want?” But Mari felt so disappointed in herself, she was being so accommodating to her, why, why for her? She didn’t deserve this.

“B-But Marilee’s so good at drawing, she can really really really draw. I know you can do it.” Piper enthusiastically cheered, she would’ve smiled but couldn’t, not yet, she just had to think through it.

What could she do?

“Piper, not now” Rosaniline slightly scolded, she never liked doing it honestly, but besides her Mother she had the trademark glare that told her to pack it in.

Unfortunately, Piper never did look at her while she was in such an energetic mood.

What could she do?

“Rosalee she’s amazing, she’s the best in the world. Don’t do it about stupid video games.” She tried persuading her Sister to see some sense, in the short time that she had known Marilee, she was pretty much enarmed with her, she found another Sister that needed a confidence boost.

What. Could. She. Do!?

“Piper!- Look, sometimes not everyone wants to show their skills to other people, and we have to respect that, ok?” She crouched down to her level, kids felt less intimidated when you weren’t so tall, besides, Piper didn’t mean anything by it, she was always told to follow her heart, and if she was proud of something, she should show it off for the whole world to see.

What could-

Wait?

Could someone really be so accommodating? Could it really be true? Could all of this be true?

“Aww… Ok Rosalee, sorry Marilee” Piper hugged Marinette’s leg, and even though it felt like she was getting told off, she knew she wasn’t in real trouble.

Or was it a persona?

“I’ll do it.”

If this was a plan, a plan to make her do all the work, then she’ll go along with it. It felt so mean, so immature, so senseless that she still wasn’t trusting her, but she didn’t want to turn Rosaniline away without any evidence, besides, if this was all a trick, then surely it was better this way, she would’ve foreseen it and everything would go back to normal, she’d go off to join the class while she’d be alone once more, maybe they’ll have passing glances and memories of what could’ve been but she wouldn’t leave her here open and out to be in such a vulnerable position.

Not just for her, but for both, she didn’t know what would happen after another heartbreak.

“Huh?”

“I- I don’t mind if we do it about fashion, I mean, only if you want to, I don’t mind teaching you about it, I-I even had some books stored just for this, so I guess its lucky right” A nervous laughter evolved as she looked at anywhere but her.

However, the cherry haired girl wasn’t as convinced.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I guess little Piper just convinced me.” The little girl fist pumped to herself before running along back to her books before the bluenette felt soft hands on her shoulders.

“As long as you want to as well, I… Wouldn’t want to force you or anything” Quick, she had to ease the tension.

“-Psst- Don’t worry so much Rosaniline, c’mon I’ll see where I put those books, also how far do you wanna go back, if we go too far, we might not be able to cover everything. But if we go to a few years back our presentation would just be too small. Maybe we can just go halfway. That reminds me maybe we could have a physical element, I could throw together some pieces of old works together and show them of as we talk- or” Her shoulders were gently grabbed again as she looked at the close proximity she was in, it made her blush just a tad more than she thought she ever could.

“Maybe we could discuss that, over something to eat?” She quickly looked down and remembered the food on the ground, no doubt cold now. She felt guilt come in before seeing her passionate smile.

“Sorry, I just saw how passionate you were about this, I couldn’t bear to stop you, but then I got worried if you’d run out of air, Eheh. Think we can heat the food up?” She nodded, maybe it might be better to eat downstairs after all, now that Marinette knew what topic she- they were doing, they could crack on and complete it earlier than the deadline.

She’d have to get Rosaniline’s phone number of course, just in case they needed to discuss other things but that could wait.

Of course, it could wait.

She was just so happy in that moment, she- she may have really wanted to try and be her friend.

And maybe-

No- she just wanted to continue to be near her, to hold her hand when she’s upset, to help her when she’s had a bad day.

To be… Closer to her, to that warmth.

… Was it selfish of her to want to be near that warmth for longer?

***

Night had fallen upon Paris, but the lone girl on her balcony didn’t mind at all.

Ever since that day, a part of her wished something else would happen.

No- she didn’t want the hero to be hurt again, that’s by far too sadistic to even think about… But she was really excited by all of those events, when she was able to get a breather, there was a rush of adrenaline throwing through her veins, and even if she did want something else to happen, she’d prefer to be out here just to see if she could get a glimpse of the hero again.

It had been a week since it happened, and Marinette could only guess she must have been resting from her… Fight? Was that the right word? Oh well, she must’ve been resting since she hadn’t heard anything about her from the news for a while, she could only hope her wound would heal by professionals instead of her shoddy work. But- she had to realise that she had to hope for the hero’s survival.

For Soliane Rin’s survival.

… She may have read a bit more into her- but it was only out of curiosity, she wasn’t going to gain another obsessive crush over someone famous again, nope, nada, she wasn’t going to fall for those really amazing silver eyes the press had made sure to call grey, but she was sure they were silver.

Wait, no it wasn’t like she looked at them for particularly long or anything, she definitely didn’t get lost in them, she saw a poster of them! Ah- this wasn’t helping. She needed to change the subject immediately!

Clang.

She jumped up instantly, her commissions book that was resting on her lap was now flying through the air! Oh no, she was going to lose everything, crap! Her designs!

A figure, however, flew up to catch them before landing in front of the startled girl.

“I believe these books were trying to plan their escape from you mi Belle” It was her; it really was her! She was-

“You’re alright” Her happiness took over her before she could even register that she had leapt into the arms of the hero of Paris.

She was going to regret this so much.

With her cheeks rosying so much, she jumped back until she fell back onto her chair, apology after apology escaping the girl not daring to look at her face.

‘How embarrassing, how inappropriate, how childish. Why did she have to make a fool out of herself now? In front of the new hero no less? Again!’

“There’s no need for any embarrassment, I was unaware I’d caused you such panic over my recovery, if I’d known you were worried, I would’ve visited a lot sooner.” Ah- she was always so formal with her choice of words. It was great, she was great- wait what?

“But I- didn’t realise you’d wish to see me after my blunder from last time.” That made her perk up, what… What was she talking about?

Soliane’s gaze seemed to be fixated on the ground as she looked so- so frustrated with herself. Why?

“To have failed on the first day as a hero, to have troubled a civilian with help. I can’t thank you enough to have woken you at such a godly hour just for my sake” She bowed her head forward as Marinette couldn’t help but try to make her stop.

“It’s nothing really, I mean I’m sure anyone else would help out a hero like you. I-I mean maybe not everyone else since there are some bad people but I’m sure most will. Not that you don’t need it, I mean you do- don’t I- I’m sorry I’m rambling again” Soliane Rin didn’t appear to hear her as she carried on with her tirade.

“But to not even know who it was that harmed me. I-I don’t deserve to have my title as a hero.” Why? Why was she saying this? She- no she couldn’t be serious.

But that look made it all the more real, she’d seen it so much. Every time she ever looked in the mirror after crying for so long, regret, disappointment, anything and everything negative flashed through her mind and she could tell, see everything, all of it.

And knew it broke her, would break her.

Marinette knew she didn’t have any powers.

She couldn’t shoot lasers from her eyes.

She couldn’t fly.

She couldn’t control objects through her mind.

But- how Mother always said she had a talent for one thing.

Empathy.

She could be so understanding when her mind was so calm, when she wasn’t worrying about what others were thinking of her, when she could see, truly see inside their heart, all of their feelings out on display, and helping them, by being there for them.

For knowing exactly what to say…

It- may not always work, but no superhero comes out of every battle unscathed.

“Please stop” She looked up, but it was still such a pitying look. She could see through her smile, but it felt as if she wasn’t even trying to hide it, like there was no use concealing it.

“You can’t keep blaming yourself for a mistake like that, it’s not fair to you- or to me. Yes, I was scared when I saw you injured, but I’m so glad that you’re here now. You’re still standing. You still want to continue even when you were hurt. I’ve seen just how strong you are, how confident you can be when the world tried to throw its worse at you.” She stepped closer to her, having gotten up from her fallen position.

“So please don’t give up for one mistake,”

She stepped closer…

“Don’t give up when I know you have the strength in you to persist.” She wrapped her arms around her again, and this time she wasn’t so embarrassed about doing it.

She was crying…

She tried to use those words for someone else.

It hadn’t worked… So, she had to believe in anything and everything for it to succeed now, for her.

“You risk your life every day, and yet you never ask for anything. I want to thank you for all that you’ve done, on behalf of Paris, no, the whole world. You’re a real hero Soliane Rin. Please don’t doubt that.” She hugged a bit tighter; she hadn’t meant to get so emotional on her, but maybe that emotion wasn’t just for her.

It was silent.

Too silent.

Marinette had to hold her breath in anticipation, did- did she go too far? Did she overstep her boundaries again? Did she-

“Ah I see. Thank you, I-I mean, I appreciate your gratitude Marinette” When she looked back, she could see her cheeks were red, she could see her silver eyes look back at her before seeing her own cheeks reddening as well- wait, she was so close! Again!

She jumped back again, not falling this time, thanking the heavens that she wasn’t making a fool out herself as much as usual.

“I must commend your stubbornness my dear. I- I hadn’t imagined you’d have a positive opinion of me after that, I must apologise for making such a rash assumption about you, and for- eh snapping me out of that. I’m thankful to have met such a kind and respectable hero like you.” She bowed her head again as Marinette had to comprehend what had just happened.

It felt awkward, Soliane Rin was blushing a lot, Marinette was blushing like crazy as well.

“Me a hero, what no way. You’re just joking, don’t tell me you hit your head too?” She waved her hands in front of her. She recalled how clumsy she was, how often she’d trip on the stairs to Collège or even when she dropped her tray of pastries on the floor, that one was particularly embarrassing.

However, she was too late to see that Soliane had stopped her smile as Marinette began to panic again.

“No! I didn’t mean hit your head I meant did you crack it- no check it- no I mean, how can I ever be a hero to anything, I’m just me, Marinette. I don’t have any superpowers or anything I’m just an ordinary girl ehehehe” She felt her hand taken by the hero again, her heart stopping for a moment before jumping to x2, she couldn’t believe she was holding her hand again.

“Just because I wear a mask and costume doesn’t make me a hero. It’s my ideals and thoughts for the people. Marinette, you may not have powers, or a hero name. But you can be a hero still. After all, All that is needed for the prevail of malevolence is that individuals concede defeat.” Marinette was shocked, she just- wow, that was cool. And… So sweet. To say that, about anyone, about her. Even if she didn’t fully believe it at first, she’d be sure to keep those words very close to her heart.

The bluenette smiled back, before they both looked over her balcony and over Paris, they share a moment just looking out, the silence was comforting to them as some time passed.

There was a question that may have crossed her mind at one point, she felt guilty for taking so much time out of her day- night- schedule? Oh well, she had to ask just one little thing.

Marinette fiddling with her fingers, she took a deep breath.

“S-So do you have to do a patrol or-” Soliane looked up surprised before checking something around her wrist, she laughed nervously before turning back.

“Huh- oh yes, unfortunately I won’t be able to stay longer, however it would be even more unbefitting of me to avoid my job any further” She wanted to deny what she said was true, but saw her giggle so slightly, knowing it was a small joke, she lightened up as Soliane Rin bows again and flies off from her balcony railings bidding her adieu.

With her hand resting where her heart was beating, faster than usual, faster then whenever she was late for class. Faster than-

Oh no.

No no no! Not again, how did she not realise it sooner?

How!?

This familiar feeling.

Why did it come back?

And why did she want it to stay!?

***

I hope you enjoyed it.

Anyway, I’m willing to take a bunch off prompts for Rosann and Mari on date nights/doing couple things, whether you want some added salt from the class is up to each requester, I may turn a few away if I either feel uncomfortable or simply not able to write it, these prompts will come out randomly, I have no structure to anything. To submit, I’ll allow for the idea to be within any time frame, i.e. when they first meet, to being friends, to being a couple. I do love angst although I’ll be unsure how to make it work when it should be a ton off fluff stuff. If you have any questions don’t feel afraid to ask, I might have to clarify some points. I’ll be ordering the prompts, and stating when they come in the main story, what you would’ve need to have read before, if it contained any spoilers for certain chapters and any trigger warnings, although you may need to state what might be triggering as sometimes, I too get confused on what I need to state, if anyone can do that then that’s alright.)

Even though I like a Saltinette, sometimes I still wanna see a different perspective of her, an anxious, guilt-ridden, cautious, mess like this version. I just think it’ll be interesting to basically rewrite Marinette’s character. Instead of this sassy overconfident one in most fanfic’s I’ve now changed the status quo. Haha.

And I believe I’ve taken a somewhat realistic approach to Marinette trying to trust someone else, I didn’t want to just rush into it. However, I do think it’s a bit different with Soliane Rin because she is a hero, and I think Marinette could trust her a lot easier than Rosaniline.

Also did you know that Majestia’s quote was a straight rip off of Edmund Burke’s?

The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.

All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing.

Yeah...

Cya next time.

Note: Please tell me if I should add anything else to the card, there will be one of these cards for all 15 chapters, however, because I have uni work all updates will be slower because I really need to focus on the uni stuff, then I might be able to upload quicker. They also may change in the future because I can never stop adding stuff.

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beels-burger-babe · 3 years

Text

I Love Him - Chapter Three (DRAFT)

***I still haven't gotten around to writing anything because I've been crazy distracted today, but here is chapter three my book that I am attempting to write. Hope you like it, and sorry for the lack of content. So if you will, allow me to tell you more about my gay son Arthur and his adventures in 1958 London.***

Chapter One, Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Geneviève Blanchard was a fascinating woman. She was a talented seamstress and businesswoman who had attracted Arthur’s father to her establishment, Coutures et Fils/ Seams and Threads when Arthur was just a child. She was a spirited woman whose loud antics and thick French accent would intimidate anyone at first, but her soul was as warm as her coloured skin, and soon enough she’d wormed her way into the cold hearts of the Howell family.

Just standing in front of the lavender boutique now, Arthur could feel a familiar warmth resonate in him. This boutique had become more than just a store to him; much like Gen had become more than just a seamstress. It was a second home, and the seamstress inside of it had become his second family.

Arthur entered the shop with no hesitation. “Geneviève?”

He heard a sharp yelp come from a curtained room behind the front counter, followed by a string of rapid french. “Pardon! J'ai été pris par surprise!” There was some shuffling of fabric he heard shouted back. “You know better than to come in shouting for me, Arthur! You will wait your turn.” and then some more muffled apologies, presumably to her client.

Arthur chuckled and looked at the suits and dresses that Gen had on display. He always admired the passion and craftsmanship she put in every piece.

Somedays, when she’d work on a project as they conversed, he couldn’t help but wish that he could pursue work that was as fulfilling and personal as tailoring was to Geneviève.

He was torn from his thoughts as Gen, with her dark greying hair perfectly coiffed as always, entered the room with a soft, redhead woman behind her. She placed a dark purple bag onto the counter and worked the cash register. “That will be £3.00, mademoiselle.” The woman quickly fetched the money and paid before gathering her things. As she left the store, she eyed Arthur standing near the suit display and huffed before leaving.

Arthur raised an eyebrow as he turned towards Geneviève and was met by a cold glare. He awkwardly smiled at her and waved a hand. “Hi Geneviève.”

The woman sighed and made her way over to him. “Arthur, you know you are always welcome here, but you are also aware that I run a business. You cannot just...just…” She looked down at her hands frustratingly as she tried to think of the word. “Comment dit-on éclater?”

“Burst?” Arthur provided, smiling slightly.

“Oui! Burst! You cannot just burst into here calling for me. This is a high-class establishment.” She trailed off of her rant as she noticed something on Arthur’s shirt. She huffed and brushed the lingering muffin crumbs off of his chest. “And to do so looking like that! What is this?” She asked, holding up a particularly large crumb for Arthur to see. “I thought you did not eat desserts? You refused mon pain d’épices the last time you visited because you said it was not healthy.” Geneviève narrowed her eyes at him as she took in his face, and her expression softened, “Tu t’en sors, mon chou?”

Arthur groaned, opened a door to his right and entered with the seamstress following close behind. Arthur took a seat on one of the purple velvet consultation couches while Geneviève made tea. “I’m fine, Gen. It’s grocery day, after all, so what do I have to complain about?”

She glanced up at him suspiciously. “Then why are you eating desserts and coming to me?”

He flashed her a charming smile and leaned forward, “Can’t I visit my favourite woman in all of London, without a reason?”

She placed a teacup on the coffee table in front of him and sat down beside him. “Always, but this visit is not without reason. We’ve already juggled your secret. I’m sure that whatever this is will be much easier.”

That much was true. Geneviève was the only person who knew Arthur was gay. It was 1953, and Arthur had been eighteen when he told her; he had picked up a paper in her consultation room only to see the headline declaring Sir John Nott-Bower’s mission to weed out the homosexual population of Britain and just started shaking. Gen had asked him if he was alright, and it all came slipping out. After ten years of keeping that secret, he was bound to break down eventually. The seamstress was incredibly supportive. She had closed the shop for the day and let Arthur talk honestly about everything he was feeling for one of the first times in his life. Committing homosexual acts had been decriminalized in France since 1791. It still wasn’t very socially accepted, but neither, Gen had explained, were independent black women such as herself.

Five years had passed since then, and Gen was still his biggest and only ally.

Arthur sighed and took a sip of the tea. “I just wanted to buy some bread.”

Geneviève tilted her head at him as she took a drink of her own tea. “Oh, and you weren’t able to get some? You get your bread from Wilson’s bakery, correct? I heard they had to close for a while, since Mrs. Wilson finally gave birth to her baby.”

Barely paying the words any mind Arthur nodded along. “Right. Which meant I had to find a new bakery. Which I did. So there’s no problem.” He heatedly took a larger gulp of his tea only to hiss at the temperature of it and immediately set the teacup down.

The seamstress analyzed him with a questioning glance. “I do not understand. You are still upset. Was the bread not good?”

“No!” Arthur quickly shouted, sitting up and turning directly to the seamstress. She gave him an unimpressed look, causing the man to fluster at his own actions. “I mean, yes. I-I don’t know, I haven’t tried it yet. But the muffin-”

“So you did eat a dessert!” Geneviève proclaimed in an accusing, but amused, tone.

Arthur whined in frustration, his hands now being thrown in every direction as he tried to express himself. “Yes! But only because that bloody baker wouldn’t stop smiling at me and talking about food like it was his best mate. I couldn’t say no!”

As the outburst ended, the two went quiet for several beats as Gen slowly began to grin at Arthur over the rim of her teacup. “I imagine he had curly hair then? You seem to like the ones with curls.”

The man fixed the older woman with a glare as she began to cackle. Arthur shook his head, muttering to himself about crazy women while he sulked. Geneviève calmed down eventually and placed a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “I am teasing, mon chèr. I guess I do not fully understand the problem. So you looked a little silly in front of a cute boy? It is not as if you have to see him again, right?”

Arthur huffed and picked up his tea for another sip. “Or so you’d think. That bakery, Gen. It’s like it’s untouched by all the gloom and change of England. Everyone in there was so relaxed and the food was just...brilliant.” He relaxed at just the memory of the place. “There isn’t another place like Blooming Confections in the world. Cute cashier or not, I know I’ll be returning.”

Geneviève smiled tenderly at him. “I’ve never heard of it. Perhaps you can take me some time, or just bring me some macaroons if they have any. I can’t make them, and I haven’t had any good ones since I’ve left France.” She sighed and stood up as she wiped her hands on her work apron. “But in the meantime, if you really do want to go back, at least this time you’ll know that he is there and won’t be as surprised.”

Arthur stood and pulled Geneviève in for a small hug. “If they don’t have macaroons, I’ll pay extra for them to make a custom batch. You’re the best, Gen.”

The seamstress chuckled and patted his back and she pulled away. “Yes, I know. And you are a helpless fool, but at least you are a handsome one.” She reached forward to wiggle his nose teasingly as she spoke, before pulling back and clapping. “Well. I have dresses to make, and you should head out.” She glanced at the clock and frowned. “It’s just about twelve now. Don’t want to keep your father waiting for too long.”

Arthur followed her eyes to the clock and tensed. “No, I suppose not.”

#I Love Him #my novel #my writing #original writing #romance #gay love #writing #draft #b talks #🐝 talks #the hive

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uwua3 · 4 years

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i love your spoiled sakuya hcs and the juza hcs with the baker s/o, they were so adorable!! ♡ can i have hcs for masumi with an s/o who likes to bake too and they're trying to teach masumi how to bake by baking together?

ah, thank you so much!!! your support means the world to me, thank you for taking the time out of your day to read my work TT you’re even more adorable!!! for someone who knows nothing about baking, i love sweets too much so i cannot wait to do this prompt :D i hope to make you happy with this ♡

summary: for someone who didn’t eat sweets, masumi sure ate a lot of your baking

author’s note: i loved writing this despite my lack of baking experience TT please enjoy a tsundere! masumi and a reader who is doing their best :D thank you for reading~

word count: 4,121

music: if i could ride a bike – park bird, chevy, the girl i have a crush on – frad

all you need is love... and cookies!

🌸💌 usui masumi

ever since you could remember, you’ve always aspired to be a baker

you were the kid who walked by bakeries and had to push your face against the glass at the sight of pastries. you were definitely the type to admire and double tap every post concerning cute creations just because it made you happy. you filled your mouth with so much sugar, your dentist definitely had to see you every year

so when you proudly shared to the boys you were pursuing baking, you purposely left out the fact you had begged the bakery staff to hire you despite having no experience

(you were really only hired due to your clear passion for anything sweet, but an opportunity was a chance to do even better!)

at first, your part–time shifts at the local veludo way bakery meant you always had extras to take home. but now, you had acquired the position of an amatuer apprentince who spent all their time after school perfecting their craft

professional, well–done masterpieces wrapped in pristine, elegant white boxes became sloppy, edible creations with just as much love, much to the confusion and disappointment of the dorms

so when it became apparent that you weren’t naturally blessed with the talent to be the best baker in the world, it ate away at you ever since you stared back at the collapsed cake across from you (it didn’t take long before you were back on register duty for the day)

you could tell none of the mankai boys truly enjoyed your food when they couldn’t even force themselves to finish it (not even juza)

this meant you had practically taken over the limited space the kitchen offered to practice even more, focusing on exact measurements and mixtures just to mess up every single time

you were this close to giving up and binging bake–offs on tv to feel even more insecure of your abilities before you noticed something out of the ordinary this time

crouching down to look at the open fridge, you smiled despite the flour staining your apron and sugar you accidentally wiped across your forehead

the cupcake you made yesterday... that was nearly toppled over with uneven amounts of icing, perhaps your worst invention yet, was gone

did this mean... someone ate it?

you were about to close the door, before you noticed there was a note left instead in the place of the missing dessert

“you did a good job. don’t give up.”

your heart swelled with pride once you realized someone in the dorms genuinely believed in your skill. you squealed and performed a celebration dance in the middle of the kitchen, jumping up and down from the praise

you picked your head up and fixed the baker’s hat that was about to fall off, before turning the paper around and noticing something scrawled on the back

“you can’t substitute butter for cream cheese, you know.”

you blinked before reading it again, feeling a light bulb above your head. attempting the recipe you just failed with a new sense of determination, you realized you did mix up the yellow ingredients

oh... whoops!

(you were so involved and dedicated to your work that you didn’t notice a black–haired boy lean against the door frame for a second with a slight smile before leaving)

from then on, you didn’t give up, just like the note told you to!

every time you made a new product, you expected it to be gone the next time you took a break from the kitchen. you began enjoying the process more than anything, following recipes exactly with few, minimal errors

it helped every time the person who finished eating your dessert left truthful, straightforward reviews on the back of their praise! somehow, they always knew what went wrong and genuinely assisted you in trying again and again

your effort paid off! slowly but surely, you were able to make your favorites presentable, tasty, and worthy of sharing with others! the better you got, the more optimistic your attitude became—you could do this, you got this!

quitting was a thing of the past now, how could you give up when you’ve come this far? you knew you couldn’t have done it without that one fateful note from your first customer

the mankai dorm noticed your renewed energy at your passion and slowly reaped the benefits. you would put aside one of every creation of yours for the mystery critic, but offered the rest to the boys as a way to thank them for their continous support (even if it wasn’t through eating in the beginning)

yet, as you took the trey of muffins from the oven early in the morning to prepare quick breakfast for the actors, you frowned at the thought of one boy: masumi

no matter how many times you tried, masumi wouldn’t eat your food. it didn’t matter if you wrote his name on it with icing or specifically made a treat based on his favorite flavor, he wouldn’t take it. he’d barely glance at you with a resounding “no” in front of everyone before slipping his headphones back on

it was truly an awkward sight to behold. a quiet, seemingly annoyed teenage boy coming home late from a long day of school and an discouraged part–time baker still in their academy uniform and apron, holding a platter of something good, mind you!

as you individually wrapped each muffin and wrote each person’s name on a sticky note before moving on to pack boxed lunches for the high school students (yourself included), you hesitated on masumi’s before deciding to take that one and leave it for your secret food reviewer

if he wasn’t going to enjoy it, at least someone would

as everyone began waking up, you let out a sigh of relief after laying out all the food you prepared the day of organized by name. all in a day of hard work and the endless compliments from the sleepy kids and appreciative adults made it all worth it

for some reason, as masumi walked inside the kitchen with his headphones already on, you unintentionally let out a disappointed sigh as he walked past your beautiful display. not even a look, did he not like you?

(you strangely felt disappointed from the thought of masumi not liking you, you wanted him to see you as a friend)

after having breakfast together, you left with the high school boys, animatedly discussing whatever homework you guys had (which taichi never finished as he begged for answers) and upcoming classes

on the way out, maybe if you weren’t challenged by banri to see who could sprint to the end of the street the fastest, you would’ve noticed how masumi lingered behind to grab a snack. he opened the refridgerator to take a specific one, just for him

the mankai boys liked meeting up with each other at the local park once the final bell rang just to update each other on how the day went on the way home, but you always had bakery duty right after, rushing out of the doors to wave goodbye to your friends

“thank you for the lunch!” they thanked you again gratefully, wishing you well as you two went your separate ways. masumi was always at the back of the crowd and avoided looking your direction, moving on without a single word

as masumi led the way to pick up muku and yuki, sakuya walked by his side with a curious glance towards his blazer jacket. without warning, sakuya reached out to brush something off his collar

“sorry, masumi–kun! you had... crumbs?” sakuya trailed off quietly, noticing how masumi’s face was slowly becoming red. anyone would’ve missed it, but not his own observant best friend

when sakuya connected the dots on why masumi didn’t eat lunch with him and banri, he simply just hummed a sound of acknowledgement before joining in on the lively conversation between the o high boys

masumi turned his music volume up without looking at anyone, not seeing sakuya’s quiet smile

masumi didn’t even like sweets that much, but he ate the muffin? sakuya thought before eventually getting distracted by tenma, who nudged him with a concerned look

it wasn’t him he should be worried about, what about masumi?! sakuya turned before doing a full 360 with wide eyes. he rapidly looked both ways before grabbing tenma’s shoulder, his eyebrows furrowed

“tenma! did you see where masumi went?”

“oh, he said he had class or something?”

“class? for what?”

you finally clocked out for your shift, hanging your apron back up on the wall of hooks as you placed your name tag back with your uniform. before you could leave, you heard someone call for you to come back

oh no... were you... in trouble?! you gulped, turning on your heel to come face to face with your boss, who’s expression remained strict and stoic as ever. this was it, you were going to get fired and goodbye culinary school—

“rookie, you did good,” your boss started and you felt like you were on a sugar rush. did renowned, highly experienced head baker of the whole establishment just compliment you? before you could pass out from the praise in front of everyone, he continued

“but not great.”

oh. you were about to collapse, but for a completely different reason now. of course you weren’t that good...

“but good enough for this.” he passed to you a flyer with a ticket before leaving, not bothering to check your reaction. he was always like that, a man of a few words, it reminded you of mas—

wait, teaching a baking class?

you paused, bringing the paper closer to your eyes as you skimmed the headline and details beneath the cute promotional doodles decorating the design

the community center was holding a local baking class this evening (taught by employees of your own bakery!). it seemed like it was aimed at every person in any possible demographic with the large, easy–to–read font for the elderly and childish drawings for the youth

you wondered why you hadn’t heard of it before, putting the ticket in front of you to see your name and your lucky number on the pass. how coincidental, maybe this was a sign you should go

you looked up at the sound of someone clearing their throat in front of you. your boss suddenly seemed much less intimidating but more... fatherly? he ruffled your hair and attempted a smile (it looked more like a grimance, but you appreciated the effort)

“you love baking, right? have fun, get some training in.” you grinned and forced him into a hug. “thank you!” you responded, squeezing him tightly and ignoring how you were this close to being put on the early bird rotation

“get off me before i fire you.”

“yes, chef!”

when you put back on your baker’s apron and travelled with the rest of the staff to the community center to help set up, you were practically bouncing with uncontrollable energy in the back seat as you watched the evening lights turn on throughout the town

this was a sign! you had improved so much, you got promoted to teaching a community baking class because you’ve made it that far! nothing could ruin this!

or, so you thought

when you perfectly laid out the set of ingredients and utensils ready for each station, you glanced at the list at your side to see who your partner would be

as you read down the columns, you were internally hoping maybe for a sweet, wise grandmother who carried candy in her vintage purse. or, even an enthusiastic, blabbering child whose parents watched on from the side with maternal pride and love. anyone, really!

you hummed to the tune of some family friendly music from the radio, the bright yellow lights illuminating the makeshift kitchen as you somehow ignored the team’s volleyball practice happening upstairs

you followed your finger on the paper, landing on your name with a smile. yet, the look on your face completely disappeared as you double–checked to make sure it was yours

the name besides yours was blank? while others signed their full names, your partner either didn’t exist or had no alias to go by

“chef?” you asked your boss, causing him to look up from the front of the room with a blank expression. right... he was still your scary head pastry chef that definitely had multiple chances to fire you at this point

“um... how come the name for my station is blank?” you nervously questioned from his soulless stare before he rubbed his forehead with a sigh, as if burdened to actually think this time. then, he snapped his fingers together so suddenly you were startled

“there’s a kid who’s been going here for a while now, but he never tells us his name. you got him tonight.”

wow, that was the most the boss ever spoke to you, or in general

“do i make myself clear, rook?”

“yes, chef!”

you didn’t dare question him any further, just obediently wiped down your glistening metal table and avoided his harsh hawk eyes at any time possible

when the clock hit 8pm, you giddily tried your best not to hop up and down as you watched people stream into the kitchen. most were regulars, you noticed as the team happily greeted their typical partners

luckily, the list of attendees had increased so you were now a certified local teacher to the public. you tried to look the part and not smile too wide, hiding your obvious excitement at the new role. you glanced around with an eager look, trying to locate the kid your boss referred to earlier

“are you looking for your partner?” your co–worker randomly asked, walking up to you out of no where. you blinked multiple times, trying to see if they were talking to you before confirming they were, smiling nervously from the rare interaction

“yeah, i’m really excited!” you laughed, rubbing the back of your neck as you kept your eyes on the door. your co–worker nodded, waiting for their guest as well as they leaned against the wall, crossing their arms casually

“you should be. he’s a real natural at all this, you know, despite doing it for such a short time.” they commented, not saying any more once they waved to their partner coming in. you turned towards their retreating figure, about to ask for more information before you felt someone move next to you, their eyes trained on your back intensely

right, nothing could ruin this for you, not even—

your eyes widened and you nearly dropped the whole mixing bowl you had been playing with

—masumi

masumi blinked, before spinning around to quickly try to make his way out of the room. you didn’t think before you acted, impulsively latching onto his black jacket sleeve and wincing at his sneakers skid to a stop on the floor

“listen, i know you don’t like me, but—” you mumbled, feeling less confident by the second the more he stared at you over his shoulder. it was the first time he had his headphones off for more than a minute around you, you didn’t know what to say to someone you barely knew

“you think i don’t like you?” masumi spoke for once, his deep voice shocking you but his words were an even bigger surprise. you were about to respond before the head chef began class, your boss ordering everyone to get ready or be left behind

(a few lighthearted chuckles travelled throughout the room but you shuddered internally, knowing boss wasn’t joking)

masumi seemed to debate between leaving and embarrassing you completely in front of your staff or staying to endure a painful, awkward two hours with you before he sighed, putting on his own apron without looking at you once

you didn’t have anything to say, maintaining the large distance between you two with a frown

maybe one thing, or person, could ruin this for you... how did he end up being your partner?!

as head chef went around to introduce the recipe for tonight, you didn’t know what to do. you had never talked to masumi one on one, he usually hung back with sakuya or trailed after izumi seeking validation. what could you say to someone who supposedly didn’t care for you at all?

when chef let the groups start, you picked up the cookie recipe and thanked whoever was listening it was something you could make in your sleep. you were about to start before masumi peered over your shoulder, trying to read with you

right, you had to work together with masumi or else you’d be the worst teacher ever

you slid the paper to the middle of the table, reading the first step out loud and masumi was already on it, moving to preheat the oven to 375 degrees without hesitation

you stopped, looking at him with slight shock once again. he was strangely good at taking orders without questioning a thing, you thought he would’ve given you at least some attitude

(maybe, he wasn’t as mean as you thought he was)

he returned, flicking the highlighted black hair out of his face with an unreadable look to his eyes. he waved his hand in front of your face, breaking your haze as you blushed from getting caught staring

“what’s next?” masumi bluntly asked, and you were quick to focus again and immediately went into your professional mode, missing the way masumi admired your dedication before pretending he was getting busy

without wasting time, masumi was whisking white flour, salt, and baking soda in a small bowl while you were consistently swirling a cup of butter over a saucepan, both of you working oddly well together without much words needing to be exchanged

huh... maybe he wasn’t all that bad. of course masumi was a good baker, what wasn’t he great at?

yet, you didn’t think he liked it. he didn’t eat too much sugar to begin with, what made him want to learn how to bake in the first place?

“i haven’t seen you teach here before.” masumi said, trying to start the conversation. you did a double take, wondering if he was serious or just plain condescending before you shrugged, keeping your eyes on the butter

“chef wanted me here for the first time tonight.” you awkwardly responded, feeling the tense silence in the air even as other stations around you loudly chatted with one another. masumi nodded, seemingly paying attention even as he whisked with precision you wished you had

“must mean you’ve become a good baker.” masumi replied and you couldn’t help but smile, thinking of the note you were going to come home to in the fridge

“hopefully.” you simply said, trying not to sound bitter as you didn’t let the rest of your sentence leave your mouth. you wanted to ask how masumi would know that if he hadn’t even tried any of your pastries, but you didn’t want to start anything

when the butter browned, you moved it to a heatproof bowl and continued the process, cutting up small blocks of butter again to add it to the brown butter

masumi looked over your shoulder again with a hum of approval (you deny ever feeling a sense of pride swell in your chest) before going back to his task, mumbling something that made you freeze in your steps

“looks like you didn’t mix up the butter and cream cheese this time.”

your breath hitched as you gripped the bowl, eyes wide as your thoughts ran a mile a minute. masumi picked up on your stillness, turning to ask if you were okay before you whipped around to look him in the eyes

“what?” you breathed out as masumi looked any where but you. before you could continue to interrogate him, you felt a looming presence behind you with a familiar bark

“rook! get back to work or go home!”

you and masumi quickly got back to your positions, already scared by your chef’s loud booming voice as you two did your jobs with fear as your motivation

“yes, chef!” you called out, masumi following your example as you two followed the recipe perfectly, even as you snuck in a glance at him every time you thought he wouldn’t notice

when you pushed the parchment–lined baking sheet into the oven and closed it gently, you took a moment to breathe in and out, trying to process the exposed truth that was between you two now

you couldn’t believe it: masumi was your first “customer” ever. he was the one who encouraged you to keep baking with genuine praise and heartfelt comments about what you did right. he helped you improve with useful criticism on things you did wrong and furthered your growth as a baker. without having him, you wouldn’t even be here

but you couldn’t help but think, why?

why did he want to help you? you thought he didn’t actually like you... did he want to be, your friend?

(maybe, even more?)

you jumped up and nearly hit your head on the oven bar, making masumi hurry to your side with a slightly startled expression. you were about to apologize before he laid his hand against your head, unintentionally coming closer, concerned about why your face was so red

you barely managed to get out the excuse about the heat from the oven, but you knew he doubted it as he slowly nodded and stepped back. you followed him back to your table to clean up, but you couldn’t keep it together with the rapid beat of your heart and permanent blush on your cheeks

did... did you like masumi?

was that why you were so disheartened every time you offered sweets and he didn’t take any? is that why you always made an effort to be friends with the mysterious student before eventually giving up when he didn’t respond? oh my god, did you always like him this way?

you turned to look at him again but this time, he was already staring at you. you were about to run and hide forever from the embarrassment before your co–worker from before showed up, recognizing masumi and greeting him like they were best friends

“i see you’ve met the kid. he looks mean but once you get to know him—” they reached up to knock their fist against masumi’s head fondly, ignoring the way masumi grumbled dramatically about his hair, “he’s a real sweetheart.”

you forced an awkward laugh before going back to cleaning, noticing how your co–worker kept going on, missing the way you were acutely eavesdropping on the conversation

“you impress that person, yet?” they joked, to which masumi silently glared at them to shut up. they didn’t whatsoever

“come on, you’ve had to at this point! what kind of guy takes baking classes just to help their crush?”

beep! the oven sounded, causing you to rush over to escape the discussion. it was all coming together and it didn’t take long before you connected the dots on what’s been happening the past few months

when you came back with your glove mitts on, you placed the trey down and let the cookies cool down, standing side by side to admire you and masumi’s creation

as masumi opened his mouth to compliment the work, like he always did, you beat him to it

“... you like me.” you dropped out of no where. cue the silence, again. it was like this whole bonding exercise didn’t even happen, you could feel masumi about to tug on his headphones. yet, you kept talking and saying all the things you’ve always wanted to tell him

“you ate my food every day, even if you don’t like desserts that much, because you like me.”

quiet, again. he wasn’t saying no, he couldn’t say you were wrong because you were right

“you took baking classes to help me, because you like me.”

you wanted to be more than friends with masumi, you knew that now, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he still felt the same way

you got your answer when masumi picked up a cookie and split it into two evenly, offering the other half to you with a flustered appearance, like this was his confession

you took the cookie and knew, this was the start of something sweet

(“hey, finish cleaning already, rookie! i don’t pay you to be in love with your boyfriend!”)

(“yes, chef!”)

you received the first note with masumi’s name written at the end

“we should bake together again.”

#usui masumi #masumi usui #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game #a3! headcanons #act! addict! actors! headcanons #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #masumi x reader #a3! masumi #a3 masumi

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dangan-imaginess · 4 years

Note

headcanons of Hajime, Nagito and Izuru (separate) with an s/o that’s an incredibly talented baker and barista? They can make amazing desserts and drinks at very quick speeds and high quality and love to spoil the boys with their food

I wish I had this talent; baking is so fun but it takes forever sometimes. Hope you like the headcanons!

~ Mod Tenko (hey look I'm back and not lost to the void!)

+++

Hajime Hinata:

+ Hajime is in awe at your talent.

+ He is honestly just really impressed by your speed and skill! Properly making food and drinks takes a long time for him, and he's only really skilled in a few select recipes, so he admires how well you can make them.

+ He gets a bit embarrassed when you give him the things you make, but he accepts them without complaint. He makes sure to thank you everytime.

+ Hajime especially likes the little coffee cakes you make for when he has to study; it always gets a smile out of him when you go out of your way for him in his time of need.

+ Hajime sometimes makes cookies as a thank you. Although he's not the best at it, they taste pretty good and are a good addition to the multiple cookie jars you have!

+ One of these days, you swear you'll teach him how to create a full meal.

Nagito Komaeda:

+ Nagito falls over himself a bit in his attempts to praise you for your skill, to be honest.

+ Everytime you give him something you've created you're met with ten thousand compliments on your food.

+ Which, of course, only motivates you further in your passion.

+ Nagito talks often about what you could do with your abilities, such as opening up a bakery or becoming a world class chef.

+ You're not sold on any of his ideas just yet, but they are fun to entertain.

+ Nagito doesn't cook himself cause he's scared of setting something on fire with his luck, but he likes the fruit smoothies you make! They're great for when his alarm doesn't go off or he needs to go easy on his stomach due to a doctor's order.

+ Nagito swears that one day, you're going to be known all over the world for your cooking talent.

Izuru Kamakura:

+ Izuru was a little surprised when he found out you were so good at cooking. Your speed was something he didn't personally strive for, so he appreciated how you had the ability to create drinks and desserts in the blink of an eye.

+ He doesn't like to admit it, but he likes the more creative dishes you come up with. It's become a game of sorts, for him to look at the ingredients you've taken out and try to guess what you're creating.

+ He gets it right a lot, naturally.

+ He regularly compliments your work, and even if he's not feeling hungry or thirsty, always takes the time to at least try what you've created for him.

+ Izuru lets you know how he appreciates it when you make something special for him; he likes just about anything you could ever make. He sometimes makes things for you as a thank you, but usually he's more content to just watch as you work your kitchen magic.

+ Someday, you want to bake together with him to create an entirely new dessert the world has never seen before!

#danganronpa #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa 2 #sdr2 #sdr2 goodbye despair #sdr2 nagito #sdr2 hajime #danganronpa hajime #danganronpa nagito #danganronpa izuru #mod tenko

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gayoperatorgunclub · 4 years

Note

Okay so hear me out.... Lion/Doc/Thatcher

oh absolutely

General:

How long will they last? - until mike fucking dies. so like a week. jk but he’s so old

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - it was that scene in the office where it’s three guys standing in a triangle pointing finger guns at each other aggressively.

How was their first kiss? - doc, exhausted, was sitting in his office, sleeping peacefully. when olivier realized gustave had never come to bed, he goes to his office to check on him, and finds mike standing over him, trying to figure out how to move him without waking him up. the way mike jumps when olivier clears his throat wakes gustave up, and he starts whining about being fine and not needing to be babysat. though he interrupts himself multiple times with yawns, so mike and olivier make an executive decision to bring him to bed so they can make sure he gets sleep. mike moves to pick him up and carry him bridal style, but gustave starts squirming and weakly trying to push mike away, though he succeeds in doing nothing. seeing this, olivier moves closer, places a hand in his hair and starts petting him gently. gustave makes an “ngh” sound as his eyes flutter shut, and he makes a last-ditch attempt to get them to leave him alone by reaching a hand out blindly and tugging olivier closer, and shoving his tongue down olivier’s throat. olivier keeps petting him, and kisses back slowly, pushing gustave’s tongue out of his mouth, turning the kiss chaste and sweet, before gustave falls asleep. once he’s certain gustave is out cold, olivier pulls away and takes his hand out of gus’ hair, causing him to snuffle in his sleep and shift in mike’s arms so he’s pressed closer. mike and olivier share a Look, then walk together to gustave’s quarters. They lay him on the bed, and mike says that olivier should stay with him. this makes gustave wake up, and he starts making whiny noises at mike from the bed, prompting mike to come over, and gustave pulls the same move he used on olivier, but this time with the intent to have mike stay. he tugs mike down next to him on the bed (which is honestly more of a nest), with olivier on his other side. he maneuvers them both so that they’re spooning him while he snuggles up to his full-size snorlax plush. mike pushes himself up so he can look at olivier over gustave, and says “we will all three discuss this tomorrow. i know the both of us have been pining over him for quite some time, and tonight’s events have made it pretty clear that the adorable, endearing, kind man laying between us feels the same. so, i think it’s safe to assume this sleeping configuration could become significantly more common for all three of us. now, go to sleep. i refuse to deal with two grumpy, sleep-deprived frenchmen.” olivier chuckled, and as he settled in and closed his eyes, he felt around for something on the blankets, then, smiling softly, intertwines his fingers with mike’s, and drifts off to sleep.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - they all did, on the same night, at the exact same fucking time

Who is the best man/men? - monty for lion, rook for doc, and sledge for thatcher

Who is the bride’s maid(s)? - finka for lion, twitch for doc, and, in a surprise twist no one saw coming, clash for thatcher (the ladies wear tuxes. they look very dapper)

Who did the most planning? - mike! he’s not very religious himself, but knows that gustave and olivier are, so he did a lot of research (including visiting olivier’s church and gustave’s mosque to ask questions about customs and traditions and requirements) to make sure that the wedding would be fit for both of their faiths

Who stressed the most? - god they were all useless for six weeks before the ceremony

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - olivier’s parents, obviously, but his ex and her punk gf are invited and sit in the front row. mike’s ex-wife gets an invitation but it’s very much in a way of “look what you’re missing out on. not one but TWO sexy french men love him. can you say the same? hm?”

Sex:

Who is on top? - ok mike is always in charge no matter what, and he doesn’t bottom. olivier switches (just does whatever mike tells him to, whether that’s to fuck gustave until he begs to come or ride mike with gustave tied to a chair off to the side, crying because he’s being forced to watch but not getting any stimulation) and gustave almost always bottoms (there have been times where, to make it harder for him to not come, mike has olivier ride gustave until mike says to stop, or anyone calls their safeword)

Who is the one to instigate things? - it really depends. usually olivier, but if mike or gustave have had stressful days, they’ll look for some ~relief~ when they get home

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

How long do they normally last? - as long as mike tells them but fr i never know how to answer this one so like???? long enough??? they’re always satisfied, soooo

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - *sighs in wanting to make doc come til he cries but also wanting to make him beg for the slightest touch on his cock*

How rough are they in bed? - Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - just olivier’s son

How many children will they adopt? - ZERO BITCH

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - probably doc but olivier’s kid is too old for them so

Who is the stricter parent? - they all are but in different ways

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - depends on the stunt (typical punk stuff- lion, breaking laws that shouldn’t be laws- doc, fighting for what’s right- thatcher)

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - doc

Who is the more loved parent? - olivier but only because they’ve had a relationship for longer

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? - doc. charming ass

Who cried the most at graduation? - they all did :*)

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - typical punk stuff- lion, breaking laws that shouldn’t be laws- doc, fighting for what’s right- thatcher

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - doc

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - olivier

Who does the grocery shopping? - doc

How often do they bake desserts? - so often!!!!! mike is a secretly a world class baker

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - gustave has dietary restrictions (and he’s lactose intolerant), but he loves a good steak. olivier and mike agree 100%

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - doc

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - olivier. he likes patio dining!!!!!!!

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - mike. you stupid man

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - lion

Who is really against chores? - thatcher

Who cleans up after the pets? - doc (they’re his kitties, he will care for them)

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - thatcher

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - doc. the first thing he was taught about being an adult is that you keep plastic bags in other plastic bags, and you always feed people whenever they come to your house

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - thatcher. he still complains about cleaning tho

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - doc. he has a full fucking skin- and hair-care regimen and olivier and mike can’t deal

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - IT’S MIKE’S BIG-ASS DOG, HE TAKES IT FOR A WALK

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - mike doesn’t like to decorate but he WILL put up little centerpiece items that are themed around the holiday that his husbands are celebrating :)

What are their goals for the relationship? - contentment. healing. joy. :*)

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - gustave. stupid sleep-deprived man. i love you

Who plays the most pranks? - olivier. >:(

#ask #anonymous #but i know who you are 😈😈😈#r6s doc #r6s lion #r6s thatcher #doc/lion/thatcher #ass alert!#thank you for interacting!

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dropsofletters · 4 years

Text

all the hearts in the sea

title: all the hearts in the sea pairing: song minho/reader genre: cruise!au/strangers to lovers!au/chef!au/comedian!au summary: with the microphone pressed to his lips, the comedian song minho delivers the best stand-up shows in the entire cruise and even outside of it. much to his delight, however, even the chefs in the kitchen enjoy his shows—one of them in particular, the head chef, even involves him in a rendezvous of falling in love and then leaving their hearts to the frenzy of the sea. type: angst/fluff/romance word count: 8747

These nights are blinded by soft lights, in hues of gold and yellow, falling on him when the crowd stares, listens, laughs and connects.

These nights, his fingers hold tighter on to the microphone in his hand, parting his lips to mock life and make it a joke, to hear people become one with issues and suddenly laugh them out. For a moment, everything is happy, even when Minho can feel his stomach churning slightly at the reminder that he is on the sea, in a cruise, talking to a group of people while surrounded by the deepest source of imagination that the world can give. These nights, he feels free for once—like talking into a microphone has never been more personal and yet, so empowering.

His suit is tight, brown with cream details, perfectly suited for his long and skinny figure, the fabric rubbing against his legs with each step he gives. The stage is his home for once, the dinner tables all set for those who visit the ship’s restaurant, all individuals clearly coming from places of wealth. Minho believes he has already seen watches contrasting the color of the chandeliers to fall upon his brown eyes in sources of reflection, legs crossing and showcasing shiny shoes, polished to perfection. Everyone is lying to themselves for a month, for these nights become easier the more he realizes he is not on the ground waiting to be judged. The water makes him fearless, more mature, connected to his funny side and yet, giving a show.

A comedian—his father’s nightmare when Song Minho told him that his addition to the family name was to stand on a stage and make people laugh. A class clown but for adults, he was called a thousand times, and it will happen a thousand more…yet, he remains unbothered. Slowly but surely, he is building his own empire, growing away from that tiny apartment that had once welcomed him and his three roommates, now completely developed into a new man. A person that people look up on the internet, a stand-up wannabe and yet, one of the youthful promises of such a career.

The man that had once loved the free beers of local comedy bars is now in a ship, drinking the most expensive of champagnes, basking on the soft alcoholic drink. Better yet, he is willing to spend his time after his big comedic show eating in that same restaurant he performs at, a fork working on his food, slicing it with fervor to fill his stomach when he hears an unpleasant noise. Clanking of pots, really.

The clanking of pots becomes duller, a faint bang in the air that has Minho looking up from his excellently decorated plate and he wouldn’t have cared for the noise if it wasn’t for the comment that was spoken into the air in the shape of a feminine voice.

“This doesn’t even look like a ratatouille!” The thing is—cooks are definitely passionate and bound to scream. He has watched the plenty of shows that give out the reality of a chef or a baker, all in their own heads when it comes to pleasing the individual on the other end, always putting their clients first and their workers second. Minho can understand this, but what he can’t understand is the quite audible words this woman lets out. “This looks like Amebiasis in a plate. This looks like diarrhea. Do it again.”

It’s worrisome; not because he is eating ratatouille—thank God he isn’t and his taste is leaning more towards the casual side today—but because he is eating there. Everyday. The head chef saying that with such certainty immediately brings him up to his feet, now pushing his plate forward with a push of his lips, suddenly distasteful to him. His brown eyes look up, watching the opened space that is supposed to be the window that communicates the workers with the chefs, the clients with the food, and his mind is made up in the matter of seconds. Confidence, the comedian exudes, fixing his suit on the way there and not caring that he left his table completely alone, moving with certainty before tapping his long fingers against the bell that the waiters and waitresses touch, only to watch a blonde haired man peak his head from behind one of the doors, widening his eyes at the sight of the man in front of him.

The man inspects him, the chef that is, fixing only a few curly strands touching the surface of his forehead, barely painting a smile on his features when he pushes his weight forward. “Can I help you with anything?” The chef asks, crossing his arms on top of the counter, staring at Minho only to watch the man let out a soft breath.

“Can I talk to the head chef?”

Hissing, the blond answers him. “She’s not in a good mood.”

“Please?” Minho doesn’t know how to act in these situations, but he just wants to complain, or at least give an earful to the chef. Amebiasis is definitely not something you want to hear as you eat in a restaurant, stuck in the middle of the ocean in some ship. Luckily, the blond chef turns around to call out someone’s name, one that Song Minho picks up easily, watching carefully when a woman turns around.

She is wearing a short chef-hat, definitely not the elongated type that he expected to see, in a black color and tight enough to cover her hair. Her face seemed to be void of makeup, the thin layer of sweat indicator of the heat inside the kitchen, her voice concealed by the sound of meat being fried, whisking all his attention away. Her body could barely be seen in the equally as dark uniform, tied around her waist and still, not enough to give away more of the woman behind those pieces of clothing. “...May I know why you are calling me, sir?” That voice, indeed, is the same one he had heard. He’s good with sounds, captivating a note and keeping it, recognizing a vibrato and highlighting it in some corner of his brain. Minho may not be the brightest, but he’s definitely witty when it comes to sound. A performer, over all.

He sighs. No matter how pretty this woman could be, lips rosy from biting on them, he can’t stand people with overly wild personalities. “Excuse me, I heard you were saying something about a meal having Amebiasis and it definitely caught my attention. I will complain to the captain about such thing if that is the case.”

She stops playing with the collar of her shirt, pressing his extended palms over the counter when a gasp leaves her lips. “Oh no, sir, that was sarcasm—”

“Trust me, I know a good joke. That isn’t one.”

“I...I was just scolding one of my chefs. You can trust me with the fact that we take hygiene very seriously in this place.” The tone of her voice, as if she is about to break, like her dream is in the line and fear is all she can understand at the moment, should be a clear sign that she may be telling the truth. Minho, however, cannot fathom to imagine a woman like her, such sweetened gaze turned into a demon when something is not done right in the kitchen. He had heard of Gordon Ramsay, but she may be even worse. “I can guarantee that, sir. There is nothing in here. The ratatouille was just poorly decorated, see.” She reaches for something, a plate standing in his line of vision, definitely looking like it was just put there for the sake of it, too liquid to even qualify as a meal that is not soup or anything of the matter. “She’s a newbie and she did this. I’m trying to teach her a lesson by telling her it looked wrong. Instead of texting, she should be trying harder. I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable, sir.”

He quirks an eyebrow, thick and defined, nodding his head along with her words. “I understand.” He says, squinting his eyes before pressing his hand to his chest. “Not a good joke, though, I almost had a heart attack.”

“Sorry.” She apologizes again, stealing a glance at him with careful eyes, as if being caught would be a sin and she’s already saving a spot in hell. “I’ll leave the jokes to you.”

“Do you know who I am?” He asks interestingly, now completely forgetting the cold meal that rests on top of the table he had once taken. Minho’s mind is settled in fame, wanting the gold and the diamonds, the recognition, the hard work that comes with it, too.

Shrugging her shoulders, she starts speaking: “It’s hard not to. I have to hear people laugh at your jokes whenever you perform here.”

“But do you listen to the jokes yourself?”

“If I have time,” She admits. “I have twenty-five people under my watch. Three of those are bakers. I have to constantly work from morning to night while in a ship and some of my workers are afraid of the ocean, so...I have to...just pay attention to everything.” A short chuckle leaves her, as if amused by the simplistic touch of reality. Everyone is busy; he is, and she definitely is, too, and yet no one does anything to stop the world. Everyone is seeking for that happiness they crave for, however, they never stop to stare at the beauty of the world. Quick. Fast. To never stop is a dream. “Not that you care. I can definitely respond to your issue with an apology and I could invite you in to see our work progress and how clean we are—”

Minho, maybe, is not the type of man for confrontation. He is not the type of person to speak to the manager, and he’s not going to start doing it when he sees the clear business and stress painted on her face. “I trust you. Don’t worry.”

“Are you sure, Mr. Song?”

“I am.” He lets his eyes take in the sight of her, the absolute workaholic vibe that bleeds through her pores and becomes one with the air around her. “I will let you continue with your job now.”

“I can offer free dessert as an apology?” She asks, only to have Minho shaking his head.

“I’m tired and should head to bed right about now, but thank you.” He confesses, nodding his head after patting his hand against the counter. “Thank you for your hard work. The meal was delicious.”

Strangely, it sounds like he is never going to hear from her again. It’s definitely an exaggeration, they are in a ship together for about a month, the amount of time the cruise lasts, but they are too busy with their own lives to even pay attention to what the other is doing. With a hum, she thanks him, leaving to stay with her team while he gets out of the restaurant, not without taking a look over her shoulder.

At least, she looks more tranquil now than how she sounded earlier.

🚢

The sea has never been quite as awake, as turbulent or as uneventful.

He knows it by the way his bed had moved the slightest when he had woken up and how everyone seems to be locked in their rooms while he is out, inspecting the place, aware of how dangerous it is to stay outside and simply stare at the world going crazy in its biggest form: water. Instead, he concentrates on the sounds around him, not pleasant in any way, someone’s emptying their stomachs, quite clearly, vomiting to the ocean and giving less than a beautiful sight when he realizes who exactly it is.

A chef should never be known for what she is—an irony, from what he can tell. In this incredible cruise, home of eventful nights filled with entertainment, meals prepared by the most gourmet of chefs, and yet, it is clear as day she is not enjoying herself. Her hands cling to surround her stomach, trying to keep her pained expression on the low, but the frown in between her eyebrows is a telltale sign of her distaste. Once seated on one of the near chairs, she finally looks up and noticing one of the few people there—Song Minho, perhaps not known to her by name—is just exactly what she needs to change her face from one of distance to one of complete and utter embarrassment.

He trusts his power in attraction. Minho knows and feels that he is a good-looking man, for he has created smile on faces, been the reason of bitten lips and muffled words, of moans, groans and heartbreak alike. In his realm of comedy, he realizes life doesn’t take him so seriously, either. He either has to have fun or rot in the depths of the world, unknown by the majority, if not all, of its individuals. So, in hopes of lightening up the atmosphere of turbulence and given indigestion, Minho cuts the silence by nearing her with a smile on his face.

“Are you dying?”

He says that when he sits by her side and finally, when she looks up, he realizes that her chef clothing is really what makes her the woman he has seen a few times ever since their last encounter, the only verbal one, too. This time around, she is simply wearing cozy clothing, a sweater that is too long, leggings that look a bit old and her hair done in an incredible mess. “Out of all the degrading things I have done in my life, I pretty much can say that vomiting into the ocean is one of them.” She is careful not to speak to his face, mindful, instead settling on resting her hands on her knees and simply keeping the conversation as he studies her features. Everything about her screams serious, extremely so, to the point he wonders if she has ever given a smile.

“Hey, it could have been worse. I was the only one here to watch it.” The apple of his rounded cheeks lift up in a smile when he leans back on the seat, splaying his hands on the spacious spot behind him. “The worst thing that could happen is that I use this moment for the theme of one of my stand-up nights.”

“How many jokes can you make about a chef vomiting into the ocean?”

Shrugging his shoulders, he answers. “I can figure things out.” His body, mind and soul are set into making her smile, bringing the angles of her mouth up and jutting her bottom lip down into a perfectly placed chuckle. It never happens, though he sees a glint of thankfulness in her eyes when she finally looks at him. Sweetened is her gaze, the nightmare of a dentist with how dulcet it is, tranquil and peaceful as well. “Not to get in your business, you may think I am a dick by now, but…” Trailing his voice, Minho continues. “I have seen you out of the kitchen like five times in the entirety of the two weeks we have in this cruise and I have never seen you smile.”

“It’s hard to smile when you get seasick, like, nine times out of ten.”

Minho raises his eyebrows at that, thick and full with the expression of his curiosity. “Well, you shouldn’t have gotten a job as a chef in a cruise if it would get you so sick.”

She tilts her head to the side, neck showed and expanded for him, enough to highlight her jaw and her sickened expression. Luckily for him, the life she possesses seems to be going back to her features with every moment that passes. “I had to run away from the real world for a while.” She whispers, like she doesn’t want anyone to listen, and when Minho’s expression changes from curiosity to light worry, she breaks their gazes away. “I—It’s stupid, don’t even listen to me.”

“It’s not stupid.”

“You’re a comedian. How do I know you’re not going to make fun of me?” Fixing the sweater that fell off her shoulder, she asks, only to have Minho shaking his head.

“Comedians make fun of things that don’t offend others. At least, real ones do.”

“Mhm, I guess that would be true.” She indicates, her eyelids fluttering when she looks down once again, this time standing up from her spot and interlocking her hands in front of her. He swears that if he looks for long enough, makes out the features of her face with more integrity, knowing that there is more to beauty than what he sees, he can make out the shape of her smile. Art, the abstract type, the colorful yet blocking type that he enjoys. Difficult to understand, funny and ironic to the one who doesn’t know what art is. “But I will not tell you.”

The look on her face must be funny, finally bringing a smile out of her when he parts his slightly plush lips comically. Like himself. “…Is it because I didn’t pat your back when you were vomiting?”

“Not exactly.” She comments, taking the time to let out a chuckle before blinking softly. “I have to go back to work, that’s just all.”

“Oh, I see…” But Minho can’t help but feel a bit disappointed. Nothing is weirder than this woman, like his mind can’t wrap around her, because he can’t even actually pinpoint something about her. Nice yet complicated, so closed up a jail would envy the security system of her heart. Wall after wall after wall. “Is that a lie just not to tell me what’s bothering you?”

Nodding her head, she affirms what he just said. “Yes.” She adds. “If I learned something in my life is that kind eyes don’t often hold the kindest of souls, and you have...you know, very understanding eyes.” The compliment, just like her, seems to be out of place. They are two complete strangers, met in the most obnoxious of ways, in a cruise and yet so unlike any romance story ever developed there. “I’d rather get out of that mess while I can.”

“Geez, thanks for calling me a mess.” Patting his hands against his thighs, he replies, standing up on his own when she laughs briefly.

“Sorry, it’s not what I mean.” She licks her lips before pressing them together. “I’m not good at explaining things.”

“I can tell.” Minho adds, bringing his hands up in the air to showcase the fingers that are usually wrapped around his comedic microphone. “But I’m not asking for answers just yet. If I have to know, I’ll get to know eventually.”

The lights in the sky reflect on her eyes, holding a universe in them by the time she nods at him. “We’ll see about that.”

“I hope you feel better soon.” It is an excellent way to finish the conversation, the exact reason why he had approached her, and just when he sees something natural—like the thankfulness in her gaze—, she cuts him out.

She turns around, movement to her hips and her steps, a bit dizzy and hazy, though her words are spoken in that same soft tone, used when asked about her endeavors in the cruise. “Thank you for staying with me.”

He actually smiles to himself, thinking…what a fucking strange, yet cute, woman.

🚢

Partying is definitely part of the cruise experience, the part of Minho’s personality that bleeds when there is a bit of sugar and alcohol playing on his body, dancing fluidly along with him to the beat of whatever song is playing in the background.

The people around him gather, watching the strenuous show with dancing individuals and a perfectly matching singer, pipes going on for days with delicious low notes. Some are enjoying the facilities of food cooked by the staff, others are simply drinking their hearts out and the vast majority are enjoying the show. Carnival-like colors paint the cream walls with decorations, mixing elegant with casual, and he is in the latter spectrum, finally using the type of clothing that represent him best—baggy, fashionable, definitely outstanding for the occasion as he moves through the seas of people, sometimes embarking in conversation, other times simply getting lost in the music.

This is the type of life he is building himself to live. The clubs, the parties, the public appearances and becoming more than a simple dot in society. Minho is getting bigger with the passage of time and whether he is overwhelmed or not, he doesn’t know. He tries not to think about it, but his head gets filled with the idea of wanting to pride himself…doubting if, in the long run, this is what will fulfill him.

Is being a public figure all he wanted?

Shaking his head, he runs his fingers through his hair, rough against his fingertips after bleaching it so bluntly. His lips wrap around the edge of his glass, hearing the conversation he is establishing with some of his new friends in the cruise, from all around the world and bringing some kind of different view for him to perceive. For a moment, he is all about concentrating on the task at hand, responding with a joke, laughing to his heart’s content, simply vanishing the sight of the soft hearted Minho he truly is and welcoming the side of him that has always existed, yet had not fully developed to egocentrism. The less complicated side of him, simply coexisting in order to be the same, copy and paste of the typical enjoyments.

What he doesn’t expect, naturally, is to see the chef that he knows the tiniest bit about looking like she actually knows what she is doing. She sells the food excellently, inviting people to try new things, a smile on her face like it had never left her, and once again he is entranced, complicatedly trying to figure out just what the fuck she is trying to be. His brown eyes inspect her from a distance, parting his gaze every now and then, and when the hoard of clients is finally away, he expects the smile to fade away, yet, it stays. Faint, as always, like she is halfway there to being truly filled with joy, but it grows with the passage of time. The more he sees her, the more she smiles.

The first thing he guesses is that the compliments fuel her, they are her source of happiness, but he has no way of knowing. Their conversations are always cut short by responsibility; his with the social world, hers with pans and foods. They are far too busy and yet, her walls are too high for him to ever reach.

Maybe, Minho should just let it go. She may be attractive to him, but no level of attraction is ever worth this much confusion.

…Then, why is it not surprising when he starts walking towards her?

Stupid, he calls himself mentally. Instead of being attracted to the least complex parts of life, he dives head-deep in whatever it is that means when he touches her shoulder, the brief tap of two fingers against her scapulae enough to capture her attention. When she looks behind her, the smile doesn’t disappear, it remains there with those awestruck eyes that he can’t quite pinpoint. Perhaps, the glossiness of them comes from a place of deep sentiment, or she was simply one of the most gorgeously crafted people he had ever met in his life.

“What are you offering today that is good?” Minho asks, not even missing a tempo to lean against the wall and look at her as she works. The uniform does not fit her snugly, but the white color definitely contrasts well with her skin tone. Her eyes rake up and down his face, taking in his elongated features, his thick eyebrows and his long and skinny nose before licking her lips softly. If he did not know better, he would guess that there is some kind of mutual interest, masked in complete timelessness.

“Well, for one, everything.” She comments, enough to earn laughter from him when she takes a plate in between her fingers, showing what seems to small tarts, calling out for his attention in their perfectly baked state. “But you seem like you want something sweet, so I will offer this.”

“I’ll take it,” His fingers wrap around the edges of the tart before taking a bite of it. He doesn’t mind speaking with his mouth a bit full. “But some say I’m already sweet as it is.” He tries joking around, typical nature of what Song Minho would do—and it may be stupid with her, considering that she is no more than just another woman that fills in the voids of her life with absolute terror simply to keep people away from her. He understands her, however, there is darkness with every source of light.

“I can see why.” She answers, promptly fixing the sleeves of her uniform with glee written all over her face. Compliments must have brought a sufficient am0unt of happiness for her to enjoy such a loud night. “Don’t you get tired of trying to sugarcoat me?”

“Not really, no.”

“Good.” She answers, hissing after her laughter before he interrupts her once again.

“Are you tired of it?”

“…I wouldn’t say tired, more like curious.” There she is, the part of her that doesn’t seem robotic, like she actually looks at life like a test. A quiz of sorts. Minho’s fingers rake through his hair, a habit by now, taking the time to nod at her words even when his muscles pull at his forehead, creating a few lines and lifting his eyebrows. “What makes you so interested in getting to know me? I’m just a chef.”

The sugary treat leaves a trail on his lips, one that has him sighing in delight by the time he comes up with an answer. “You’re not just a chef. You’re one of the best cooks I have ever met.” He confesses, taking the time to pause just to tease the matters. After all, it is the first time he hears such interest from her. “And why are you interested in knowing why I want to get to know you?”

Pressing a hand to her forehead, she chuckles. “That got me dizzy.”

“It’s the point.” Minho joins in her laughter, eyes creaking at the corner like they always do, skin gleaming in its golden and rich state. He screams wealth now, on the way there, while she looks significantly humbled. Sometimes, he fears what international fame could do to him…if he will stay the same at all. Popping a strawberry inside his mouth, however, works as a way to push the thought away when he locks one leg behind the other and answers. “You’re cute. And…complicated, just not to say weird. I like that.”

“You must be joking.”

“Why would I be?”

“That’s the most high-school comment ever.” She replies, crossing her arms over her chest. “Cute and weird. Am I a pet?”

He shakes his head while watching her serious expression, his flirty smile falling when he utters a quickened: “No, that’s definitely not what I mean—”

“That’s the compliment you’d give to someone’s dog.”

“You’re not a dog. I—You’re misunderstanding.”

A smirk plays on the edge of her lips, barely seen by the distressed Minho until he finally realizes it is there. She looks at one of her clients once again, giving out some snacks before she speaks once again, brief in its approach, heavy in the way it settles on his chest. “Gotcha.”

Normally, he is the one joking around—prepared for that since the moment he was named the class clown in elementary school, but now that he is older and visibly flirting, he is notified by how he is not as sleek as he makes himself to be. “Oh, so you’re joking now? Last week, you couldn’t even tell me why you’re working here and now you’re dropping jokes?”

“Serious matters are not this fun to talk about,” She mentions, taking one look over her shoulder to see him still standing there. “By the way, don’t you have a number of socialites to be talking to instead of talking to me here?”

Once again, Minho shakes his head. “I want to be here.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s the first time I hear you speak more than five sentences.”

“Well, I’ll shut up now.”

When she starts to pick up the empty plates to take them to the kitchen, leaving her staff in charge for the clients, Minho picks up his step, rushing after her when he moves beside her. Something about her is hypnotizing and while he doesn’t consider himself the most brilliant of people, he feels like he is even dumber around her, like he never flirted with anyone in his life, when normally he is a master at doing such thing. “W—Wait, no, let’s keep talking.”

“About what?” She asks, not sparing him a glance but with amusement playing in her tone.

“About everything.” He says when he watches her press her back to push the door open, using his hands to help her out just so she doesn’t drop the plates.

One hand rests on her waist when she speaks up once again. “You’re not going to give up, aren’t you?”

“…Only if you want me to.” Minho indicates, his warm fingertips touching hers when he takes the plates in his hands and places them neatly in the dishwasher.

“You’re lucky I don’t.” She replies, like there is no longer venom in her tongue and all she wants to do is enjoy herself for a night. “But I have to work though.”

“I’ll help you with that. Everything and anything.”

“What recipes do you know?” She asks professionally, fixing the hat over her head when Minho simply spares her a smile.

“Ramen.”

She blinks toughly, keeping her eyes closed when she scoffs and laughs at the same time. “Oh, lord. I’m doomed.”

“You’re the talented one though—”

“And what are you supposed to be?”

This time around, he is the one that acts smug, his eyes twinkling when he says. “The one to compliment you, of course. A woman like you deserves no less than that.”

And that brings the first embarrassed expression out of her, the first of the night, absolutely flustered by his dumbly and persistent flirty comment.

🚢

“Great show.”

With the pitter patter of steps following him towards the stage, he finally looks away from his phone to cast a glance at the head chef in the middle of the empty restaurant. Only two more weeks of this cruise, pressure being put on his shoulders when he is reminded of how great he has to do in order to earn himself a name. He wants to make every night of presentation worth the time, innovative and memorable. Some people are already doing that job without performing, however, her hair neatly hid under her hat as she locks her arms over her chest. An angel, he would call her, face void of makeup, smile hidden in the assumption of stress and of course, her tone is kept at a low for her workers not to hear her. They probably are already aware that they have been talking nonstop after every show.

Normally, he is the one to get close to her—the one who waits until no one is there to finally earn some minutes of conversation. However, this time around she nears him, like it has become a habit for her, too. The chandelier masks her expression in its usual enigmatic and romantic mysteriousness, and it has Minho wondering, more like asserting himself in his imagination. She is never going to be his.

She will never trust anyone enough to speak in her own voice, with her own light and her own tone. She will only fuck him up, he says, the type of woman Minho’s mother has given him advice about, basically playing them as demons disguised as beauties—

People who will never accept love because they can’t give it back.

“Always.” Minho comments, sending a smile her way when his fingers hook around the edge of his tie. He pulls it down slightly, nodding her head towards her as a way to make himself seem more at ease, like he is the dominant one in the situation, but the two-week time-span is telling him that he’d be a slave to such a goddess if she asked him to, lost in lust or desire, he doesn’t know, in the hazy cloud of whatever this is. “It’s kind of neat that you actually listen to my skits even though you don’t laugh. At all.”

“I only laugh with you.” She confesses, trailing her eyes up and down his body before sighing. “Which reminds me…it’s laughable that you’re staying an hour after your show just to get to talk to me.”

“I only talk with you.”

“Come on, don’t be lying now.”

“I’m not lying!”

She pushes her hat off her head, keeping the strands of her hair back in a ponytail when a smile full of life appears on her face. Yeah right, like she actually likes him…and it is such a twisted mindset to have. Minho, now an adult, definitely grown and definitely experienced in love, questions why she would ever give a fuck about him. In the realm of confusion, he stays in her presence. “Song Minho, there is no way in this world that you are not loved by like a hundred women and a hundred more men.” She tells him, raising her eyebrows when she leans her weight against the edge of the stage. “The charms you have…god, you really have them.”

His heart warms up at that, fingers hooking around the edge of his tie and finally, pulling it off. “It would sound like you finally found me interesting enough to become your friend.”

“I don’t have those.” She replies, a short chuckle leaving her lips before a saddened smile grazed her features. He would pay to tattoo her thoughts on his body, see it in ink that would never leave him, understand the complexity behind her, the twisted ends and the meeting ones, the reason why her gourmet cooking is good but how her personality simply exudes humbleness, this leadership of her mixed with her strict personality. Not only towards her, but towards anyone who tried to near her.

“I think I know why,” Minho comments, getting off the stage just in time to sit at the edge of it, tilting his head to the side and inspecting her face with utmost care. “That attitude of yours. Cute for me. Definitely a headache for your workers.”

“You’re not lying.” She answers, voice void of emotion. “Why do you like it?”

“Because it’s you.”

“So that’s a because you think I’m attractive?”

“I mean, we’ve already established that.” The way he speaks with confidence is believed by her, but not by himself. Minho doesn’t know what it is about her, about the way she blinks at him with such patience, like she has all the time in the world and yet, that tone on her voice teaches him that she could put anyone on their places if she wanted to. Voice, soul, talent, all in her, all a complexity, not understandable, leading him to burning his own fingers in the habit of wanting to reach out for her. “But there’s more to you than just a pretty everything.”

Shaking her head, she nears her body towards him, placing her hat on top of his bleached hair before chuckling. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so because you’re not the type to look at the good parts of yourself.” And kindness is not found in her eyes, like she can’t simply accept weakness from her part. Maybe, that is why her walls are so high, impenetrable at least.

“Stop trying to make me open my eyes to something…” She whispers, fixing a few of the strands of hair that fell out of the hat before pushing her lips together. “You’re not my therapist.”

“So what am I?”

“…A comedian.”

“Not that, for you.” He tells her, only to watch her eyes shine like all the stars casted in the sea and lord, his heart may be sailing in the clashing waves, all around the place and drowning with how she confuses him. She takes his hand in hers, dragging him down from the stage before shrugging her shoulders.

“You’re my nights. You know, you make me calm…and give me memories to recall.” She replies, always keeping a front, unaware of the way her eyes seem like two metal doors, kept close with the time they have been locked. What he would do to read more of her than the simple present, to get to know her in the most comfortable of ways, an impatient man thirsting for knowledge, unaware of how his surroundings are all filled with thoughts of her. Maybe, this is the magic everyone talks about when mentioning romance. “…I don’t want to say you’re my friend.”

Rolling his eyes, Minho nods his head. “Because we have two more weeks together.”

“Exactly.”

When she turns around to look at him, a small smile on her face, Minho counterparts with his own thoughts. “Can’t we be friends for these two weeks, though?” He asks, almost pleading, and it’s stupid. In any other occasion, he wouldn’t have begged for friendship and there he is, basically inspired by the mere look of her.

“We can be friends at night,” She tells him. “I’m funnier at that time.”

And the promise is so full, so timeless, that even Minho finds himself tranced by the sight of the sky when they look out of the ship and talk about the beauty of life. For the night, it seems like the ice of her personality could quickly melt down.

Or not, either way, these two weeks he’ll make the best out of the two of them.

🚢

The chopping board creaks, the cleaver pushing against it, pulling the vegetable until it is divided in two—in four, in six, in eights, and then, he doesn’t count anymore. His eyes trail up the set of fingers, not manicured, nails definitely on the shorter end, natural, and yet so enticing in the way they work as if they are one with the meal. Her sleeves are perfectly put in place, following the guidelines of cleanliness for the kitchen, though there is not a single soul in the spacious and white place. Everyone is away, gone like the day, and they become two sets of Moons reuniting, as if two Jupiter moons had become friends. Her eyes concentrate on the chopping board, words spilling from her mouth to explain to him the complexity of working with a cleaver.

The truth is that Minho wants to be confident—he wants to show to her that he is a good candidate, someone who wouldn’t break her heart if she just let him in, for a kiss or a hug or a word of love. When he pulls the sleeves of the white chef uniform she had given him, he takes the cleaver in his hands, trying to move it with ease only to find it weighty, slowing down his movements when he nears his hand holding the vegetable in place.

Five more days, that is all he can think about.

Five more days until they part ways. Five, a lucky number to some and one to mock him at this point. She is talking, entranced in the way she loves cooking, much more than she’ll ever love someone else. She lighted him up like a cigarette but has only let him to eat the worries that keep his brain awake, wanting to get to know her, to get a taste of her, simply because of pride or because he has a soft spot for her. The type that tells him that she is unfixable, perhaps a bit broken on the inside, but he wants to try. Minho is an artist, he knows how to cover a spot, how to pain the dull colors in beautiful, bright states of sunshine and rainbows. Everything can be fixed, he says, even people. She doesn’t read it in his eyes, in the way he listens to her every-word, now happier that she ever dares to speak to him that much at all.

“You’re not so bad.” She tells him, making sure to fix the hat over his head, as if she loves seeing him in a uniform that looks like hers. Minho, always wanting to seem stronger than he really is, covering his white and blue heart, the sky turned into an organ, he smirks at her words.

“What am I not good at?”

“I said you weren’t bad,” She finishes, only to earn a scowl from Minho and a glare from him that vanishes when he realizes that he would forgive her for anything. She, whom he knows only a part of, is already owner of a piece of his heart. Why? Maybe, because Minho has been like her in the past. The heartbreaker, the one closed to all types of love and affection, always belonging to someone else. Maybe, he wants to prove people like that can change—they can learn to be loved. “Not that you were good. Look at the cutting board.”

“Okay, sorry.” Minho mumbles, the noise of rain tapping on the ceiling, leaving her to clinging to the edge of the counter, trying to keep her eyes focused. There is a brief moment of silence in which Minho really starts to worry, her eyes are half closed at this point. “Are you okay? If you’re getting dizzy, we can always go back to your room—”

“I’m not dizzy.”

“Then, why are you closing your eyes?”

She’s hiding, not alone, but with him. She’s hiding from the world, from what makes her who she is and from whatever attraction keeps pulling them towards each other, spending ungodly hours speaking about everything and nothing at all. They could all very much be lies, for all he knows, and yet he wants to kiss all the lies away, get to know the core of the woman he can’t stop thinking about. In body, in soul, in that smile that turns strange in existence, in everything that makes her so mysterious. “Because…I can’t look at you right now.” She tells him, wrapping her fingers around his arm and resting her forehead against his shoulder. Minho is quick to question her, a brief ‘why’ kissing the atmosphere around them. “You’re just too nice.”

Minho smiles at that, his bottom lip jutting out with his laughter. “Too nice? How am I too nice?”

“I have tried to push you away, Minho. Why do you keep looking at me like I hold the entire universe on my shoulders?” She asks him, her voice soft when she finally pulls away, letting her fingers trail over his chiseled cheekbones, thumb rubbing at the tan skin of his cheeks. “I’m not the type of woman you want in your life.”

“You don’t get to decide that.” Minho tells her, putting the cleaver down to turn his body towards her. One step closer is enough to cut the circulation off from his body, breaths labored when he takes a good glance to her lips. “I mean it when I say I like you.”

“Don’t.”

“Why can’t I like you?” Words are not verbally spoken, but he can tell that there are a million thoughts going through her brain, concentrating her eyes on his brown irises, his long nose, his plush lips and those damned blonde strands that dare to touch his precious features. “You’re amazing. You work so hard, you have such a leader-like attitude. You don’t let anyone tell you what to do, that’s such a boss move.”

“Minho—” She warns him, only to have him shaking his head.

“You deserve all the praise, for your talent, for your quiet nature. Everything. I would give you the world if I could.” And he doesn’t know why. It’s this rare feeling of protection that settles on his chest, watching how she is so big yet so tiny in this world, a mere particle and once again one of the people that has captivated his attention the most. He doesn’t get the time to decide what it is that keeps him tranced when he feels the weight of her body pushing against his chest, hearts becoming one, hands cradling his defined jaw when she parts her lips to let him get a taste of her. His hands expand on her waist when he finally realizes the movement, hands filled with the smell of tomatoes and he couldn’t even bring himself to care, not when the back of his thighs presses against the counter, all breaths taken away from his lungs, all thoughts erased into one word.

Her.

All he wants is her.

With the way she kisses him, he felt like he was the only man alive, like he had the job to create a new era along with her, a new version of the two. Her kisses are passion and lust mixed with emotion, like it takes everything in her to let this light shine through her. She knocks on the windows of his soul and he opens them freely, only realizing that all along she has been the one playing puppeteer with him. He lets his fingers hook around her hips, dragging his lips across hers before rutting his tongue against hers. The taste of two strangers thinking too much, feeling too much, taking their times in one month and some weeks and yet, feeling like they never had enough time to develop. These walls that she has kept do not come crumbling down, instead, they manifest their power when she trails her lips down to his neck, murmuring apologies for a second, barely reaching his ears when she dives for his lips once again.

Instead, he basks on the feeling of having her, even if it’s not all.

🚢

The day of arrival is filled with people greeting their family members, rushing out of the cruise simply to wrap their arms around them or welcoming the sight of home with a smile on their faces. Some are tired, some are disappointed, but in between the masses of people, Minho is looking for that one person in a chef uniform, the same one that he wants to ask out on a date just at that moment. After all, her disappearance after their eventful night in the kitchen had been quite apparent and no matter how many times he tried to get closer to her, she always told him she was busy. Ghosted, he was, yet Minho was unable to give up.

Unbeknownst to him, the person that had once looked like an angel in all white is now wearing darker colors. All neutral, standing by the very front, as if she had been the first one to leave, waiting for the bus that was supposed to get there to pick up the passengers and take them home one by one. Her hair is covered by a hat, almost like her uniform, a part of her at this point, definitely a brown beret to match her beige shirt, tucked inside old, grandpa-looking pants. The wind blows on her hair, definitely a sign of the beauty of her, the angelic nature that she tries to dress up as demonic meanings. He nears her with extended hands, capturing her shoulders in his grasp to catch her attention and when she turns around, he expects a smile.

He never gets it.

“Hey, there. I found you.” Minho indicates in between laughter, taking off her hat and ruffling her hair—he has always said that there is more to her than her chef status and she has never believed him. Even in her normal state, she is unable to show the precious side of her—the one that is not based on her talent. “I was actually going to ask you if you wanted to go out right now. I know a place here that is—”

Looking over to the side, she releases a sigh that comes from beneath her soul, pushing her body towards his. “Minho…I don’t think we should continue with this.”

“Why?” He asks, raising his eyebrows at her words. “We’re just getting to know each other—”

“Trust me, you don’t want to get to know me.” Frustration rises up from within him, perhaps from being denied or because he has been played. Something inside him switches, taking a deep breath through his nose before frowning.

“It’s not like I even got a chance, really—”

“What do you want me to do? Just open my entire life to you?”

“Well, I did that for you!”

“I never asked for it!” She raises her voice, pushing at his chest softly before turning her gaze away, clearly embarrassed by the few glances they got. “I didn’t tell you to get interested. You were the one that saw this beautiful thing inside me.” She lifts her hands in the air, as if it is the least understandable thing in the world. Yet, it isn’t for him. Minho would be able to wait a lifetime if it meant getting to know who she is and what are the little parts of her that she never shows to the world, only to create a puzzle for him to savor and love. “You want to know the truth?”

Minho chuckles darkly. “I don’t know, do you even say the truth?”

She slaps her hands against her thighs, scoffing at his words. “I am poor. This attitude that you said was so good and so attractive? Yeah, it has gotten me fired from jobs. I’m a fucking failure. I can’t pay my rent, I have to run away from the landlord for all I know and good fucking news, I got in a cruise with a job because I wanted to make sure I had somewhere to live.” Minho’s cynical smile drops at her words, watching her with kindness in his eyes—the same type she had once stated to hate. “You’re the one that compromised when I told you I didn’t want friendships, I didn’t want a man. Do you think I can even afford the time or the money of having a man? I can’t simply put any of us through that.”

His heart is holding on a pendant, asking himself why he simply wants to hang on to her, as if there is something to hold on to more than a night of pleasure. “I could help you. I have some money now, like, we could pay your rent—”

“I can’t.” She whispers, licking her bottom lip to stop herself from speaking louder. “Minho, just let me be.”

“I just want to help you!”

“You know what? Thank you.” She tells him, patting her hand against his before pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Such action would have seem weird in any other occasion, but by the way she sighs, he knows this is a goodbye. The one he expected, of course, but he had gotten attached—to her, to the passion that radiated from her, to that personality he has always wanted to get to know. “But I can’t give you what you want. I can’t be in your life, just like you can’t be in mine.”

The sound of her name is a whisper that she lets go of when the bus arrives, sparing one look over her shoulder, when he watches their two hearts being left in the sea. His will heal, of course it will, but it will always wonder what the mysterious eyes of her ever held, and if they ever held feelings for him, too.

#mino scenarios #mino #winner scenarios #winner #kpop scenarios #writing #mino fluff #mino angst #mino au #winner angst #winner fluff #winner au #comedian!mino #this is angsty pls scream at me lmao

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acuppellarp · 5 years

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♬ Full Name: Lacey Renee Mikhailov ♪ FC: Abigail Cowen ♫ Alternate FCs: Odette Annable, Alexis Knapp, Casadee Pope, Bella Thorne ♪ Age/Birthday: 23 / October 30, 1995 ♫ Occupation: Baker at Snickerdoodle’s Bakery, cheerleader for April’s Showers ♪ Hometown: Sandusky, OH ♫ Personality: generous, stubborn, guarded, sheltered, ambitious

Take one part warm Ohio summer nights spent chasing fireflies through wide open feels, two parts Sunday church services, three parts abandonment issues, and one part good, traditional Russian cooking, and you have the recipe for Lacey Mikhailov’s childhood. While she won’t go into too many details if asked about it, she likes to tell people that her youth was everything she could’ve hoped for, and to an extent that’s true. Would she have liked to have a mother who was present rather than someone who spent every opportunity away from home? She absolutely would have. But when Brenda Mikhailov got pregnant young by a man she met in a fit of passion one night, it laid the groundwork for what would be Lacey’s life spent with her grandfather as her source of emotional and physical support.

There was never an official discussion about Ilya raising Lacey full-time; it just sort of gradually happened. Brenda asked him to babysit for a day and it ended up being the whole weekend. She said she would take Lacey to her doctor’s appointment, and then call up Ilya last minute to say she couldn’t and he would have to. By the time Lacey started school, it was automatically assumed that her grandfather would be the one to sign her up and take her to her first day, something he did with a giant smile and about three dozen photos snapped and added to a scrapbook that’s still sitting on Lacey’s bookshelf to this day. When Brenda told Ilya that she wanted to “see the world” and move out of state later that year, there wasn’t even a question on if Lacey would be going with her or not. Brenda packed her bags and gave her daughter and father a hug, and then drove off without seemingly any second thought.

Despite growing up outside of the traditional nuclear family unit, Lacey didn’t want for anything. She never knew Brenda as her mother, so her loss didn’t sting much during childhood. Ilya wouldn’t let it. Instead, he would spend their time after he got off of work and she got home from school in the kitchen, showing Lacey how to sift flour and press dough to her heart’s content. Back in Russia, he’d been a baker by trade, and watching his granddaughter fall in love with it was nothing short of beautiful. Lacey always insisted on making homemade treats for her school’s Halloween and Christmas parties, and that’s when she came to love the expression on people’s faces when they first tried her creations.

When she as in middle school, her aunt Dory moved in to give Ilya a hand raising Lacey, and the three of them became a family that was thick as thieves. Ilya and Dory were at every science fair, church program, and poorly-played volleyball match of Lacey’s life and she couldn’t imagine it any other way. Last she heard, her mother had settled somewhere in Washington where she married and had three replacement kids whom Lacey has never met. She doesn’t even know if her step-father or half-siblings know she exists, but she tries not to think about it too much. If you ask her, she drew the best lot in life. She would express to her Aunt Dory (not her grandfather, never her grandfather — the last thing she would want is for him to think he was anything less than amazing) about how it hurt to think about her biological mother not wanting her, something that is still painful to think about even now that Lacey has grown. Dory would assure her that it was entirely Brenda’s loss, but that has never completely dulled the ache.

Losing Ilya was painful, but not entirely unexpected. Lacey was in her junior year of college at the time, earning an obligatory business degree in the hopes of one day opening her own bakery. Saying good-bye to the person who taught her everything she knew definitely left her feeling lost, and she wound up taking the following semester off of school because she simply didn’t have the capacity to give it the focus it deserved. To this day four years later, she still doesn’t really know what compelled her to go to New York in the first place. She’d talked it over with her family and friends, idly wondering if maybe a change of scenery would do her some good, and before she knew it her and her aunt were looking at flights for the East Coast.

It was originally meant to just be a vacation for the two of them, to help set a new pace now that her and Dory were learning to cope. But it’s like as soon as the plane touched down in the city, Lacey felt at home. They were only there for a week and a half, hitting up the city’s tourist traps as well as tracking down some little hole-in-the-wall places. Still, within the span of a few days after returning home to Sandusky, Lacey told her aunt she wanted to move out there for real. By the end of the year, Lacey found herself settling into the city, feeling both terrified and unbelievably proud all at once. Her grandfather had always told her to never hold herself back and being inNew York felt like the ultimate testament to that.

She finished up her last year of classes online and earned herself a degree in business, and was able to soon find a job at a bakery that her and her aunt had stopped by during her first visit. Currently, Lacey’s biggest source of pride has come from introducing a few recipes taught to her by he grandfather into the small business, which now offers a select range of Russian desserts courtesy of her. The next step is to actually invest in her own business, the same goal she’s had since she was little. Lacey’s vision board is filled with photos and inspiration to keep her focused on that goal, and every last bit of money goes into an account to help her get her feet off the ground.

Pets: Two cats with her, plus two more living with her aunt back in Ohio. The little babes in Ohio (Peanut Butter, or PB, and Jelly) were much too attached with her aunt’s dog and Lacey couldn’t bear to separate them. She adopted Eva and Zsa Zsa shortly after she moved to NYC. Zsa Zsa is definitely the more rambunctious of the two and likes to hide in places to spook Lacey (and now her roommates). Good luck opening a cabinet to not find her sitting in there. Eva is much more relaxed and introverted and likes to camp out on Lacey’s pillow, but she’ll wander out to ask for pets every so often.

♬ April’s Growers

Lacey has an entire lifetime’s worth of love to give and was raised knowing the importance of giving back, so she recently signed up to join April’s little committee. She makes sure to give her fellow members nothing but support, but she does struggle when it comes to voicing her own ideas. She’s working on it though, and the more comfortable she becomes in the group, she hopes to be able to give it her all without hesitation.

♪ Jemma Sterling

Coming from a small city, Lace way underestimated how much she’d be able to live by herself in New York. She was able to rent a room from a nice little Russian couple in Brighton Beach for a while, but ultimately decided to move closer to work and ended up finding a roommate in Jemma. She is… more than a bit intimidated by how open and free Jemma is with herself, and she’s seen more of her naked than she ever planned on, but Lacey can appreciate how to-the-point and amusing her roomie is.

♬ April’s Showers Cheerleaders

Lacey loves spreading positivity and showering people with support, so when she first became aware of the little cheering squad for the soccer team, she jumped right in to join. She enjoys all the other ladies, and despite knowing almost nothing about sports, she’s trying to at least get to know them better and have them teach her the ins and outs of soccer.

#acup: lacey #ch: taken #ch: to #ch: ao

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lepetitmondedeju · 7 years

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What I Did For Love

Prompt : Saudade (Portuguese) - The love that remains after someone is gone. A deep emotional state of nostalgic longing for something or someone you once loved.

Word count : 13 503

Author’s note : I know this was supposed to be post more than a week ago, but life had tired me so I didn’t had time to finish it before. So that’s my participation for @howlingbarnes‘s Languages of love challenge and I hope that I respected the prompt I chose. Feedback is appreciated and encouraged !

Warnings : Language, mention of sex and nudity, and I think that’s all.

Song of the title : What I Did For Love, Josh Groban

Masterlist

“Pwease mommy, pwease, tell me a story !”, Steve shouts from his bed, while I'm picking up his dirty clothes from the floor where he left them.

I turn my head, smiling at my four and a half years old son, his dirty blond hair already tousled, his bright blue eyes sparkling.

“Okay little man, grab your binky and lie down”, I respond to him before taking the clothes to the washing machine in the laundry room. “What story do you want tonight baby ?”, I ask, sitting next to him.

“The baker's daughter and the pwince !!!”, he answers snuggling into my side.

“You know the beginning of that story by heart sweetie.”

“Pwease mommy, pwease”, he looks at me with those disturbing blue-grey eyes.

“Well, your wishes are my commands, Stevie.”

He brings his stuffed fox closer to his chest while I'm leaning against the headboard. I clear my throat and start the story.

Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Romania, there was a king. A widower king whom had only one son. When the prince was ten years old, a new baker arrived at the castle. The baker had a daughter, whom was same age as the prince. It was a pretty girl, with pretty eyes and a beautiful smile. When she first met the prince, she thought he was arrogant and heartless. On his side, the prince thought she was stupid and tried everything to annoy her. Three years passed and someday, the baker's daughter heart somebody cry. In the course of a corridor she found the prince crying, his back to the wall, his beautiful blue eyes red, sniffing. Even if they were not friends, the girl approached the prince. She was a kind-hearted girl, raised well by her mother, so without any rear thoughts she sat next to the prince and put her hand on his.

“What's happening to you ?”, she asked him softly.

“That's none of your business !”, he harshly answered.

“I was just trying to be nice”, she told him, getting up.

As she started to walk, she heard his voice behind her.

“That's my mother and brother's death anniversary.”

She turned back to him and from her lips escaped three words : “I'm so sorry.”

And then, they sat in the front of a window in an empty room, looking at the rain falling into the garden, dripping on the ceiling to floor windows, sharing their stories, that led them to become friends, the best of friends.

A few years passed and the baker girl and the prince grew up and started to have strong feelings for each other. When they were old enough for it and completely sure about their love, they wanted to get married, the prince wanted the baker girl to be his princess and someday, his queen when he would become the king of Romania. Unfortunately for the two young lovers, the king had decide another plan for his son. He planned to marry him to a princess, a rich princess. When the prince told his father that he wanted to marry the baker's daughter, the last answered that it was out of question, that if he was going to do this, he would unprivileged him. The prince said that he didn't care because, he was so in love with the baker's daughter that nothing else mattered. So the king thought about a machiavellian plan, sending the baker's daughter away...

I stop my story, looking down at Steve who is softly snoring. Each time he wants me to tell him that story, he always falls asleep before I reach the middle of it. Anyways, it suits me, at least, he doesn't have to hear the way the king chase the baker's daughter away from the castle and from the kingdom of Romania, he doesn't have to hear that he demanded to her to lie and to tell the prince that she didn't love him, that she never did, that she pretended, and he doesn't have to hear that he gave her money to go away and never ever come back, and to keep a secret, her secret, the secret that she was expecting the prince's baby. He doesn't have to see me cry each time I think about it, each time I remember. The only thing that Stevie doesn't know about this tale is that it's not a tale, but my story, his story, our story.

I indeed arrived to Romania from England when I was ten, when King George fell in love with my mom's pastries. He offered her a better place than the one that she had in England, in the restaurant she worked in. Just before King George left London, he proposed to my mom the head of the desserts section of his castle. She accepted right away, making me pack my things to leave a country I grew up in to the unknown. A few days after, we landed in Romania, I barely saw anything on the way to the castle through the black glasses of King George's limo. He settled us down in a nice little house, in his employees quarters, just outside of the castle. I was the only child there, well at least, the only preteen. King George told my mom that he was willing to let me continue my studies at the same time as his son, whom was same age as me.

This is how I met Bucky, well James, or as he was introduced to me : His Royal Highness Prince James Buchanan Barnes. James was taller than me, and really handsome, even at the age of ten, I could see that. Tall, chestnuts tousled hair, bright blue-grey eyes, absolutely stunning. I already knew since the day before that all the girls of the kingdom were swooning over the young prince's beauty. I heard a lot about him before even meeting him in flesh and bones. Our first meeting took place a few days after, in the classroom I was supposed to have my lessons with Prince James.

“Prince James, this is your new classmate”, the professor started. “Come in young lady.”

James detailed me from head to toe as if he never had seen another human before.

“Hi !”, I said, sitting next to the young prince, “I'm Y/N, my mom is the new baker”, I smiled to him the best way I could, because as my mother used to say, we can win anyone with a smile.

“Whatever”, he answered, turning his gaze away from me.

After that, I didn't really try to talk to him again for a while, James was unpleasant and used his social status to drive me up in the wall. He was the prince and I was nothing, so I couldn't really , defend myself. But as well-mannered as I was, he once pushed me out of my limits. We were in class and he made a very mean remark and I lost control. The professor had to call both our parents to separate us and soon after, King George and my mother stepped in the room, while the teacher was trying to keep us away from each other.

“Y/N, baby, please, calm down”, my mother said, trying to retain me.

“But he's insufferable, I hate him”, I yelled back, my gaze burning holes in James' figure.

“Sweetie, he is a prince, whatever he says, he will be right.”

On his side, King George was lecturing James.

“Go and apologize”, my mother pushed me towards the prince.

“I'm sorry”, I told him, still sulking.

After that argument, James and I didn't talk. He was often pranking me in the halls and I had to keep calm, because as I was told by my mother he was the prince and I was nothing. Eventually, James finally found that pranking me wasn't fun anymore.

Three years passed and one day, I heard a noise in a corner of a corridor, as I told Steve in the story. James was sitting, his back to the wall, crying and sniffing. Even if we weren't the best friends in the world, it made me sad, so I sat next to him and put my hand on his.

“What's happening to you ?”, I asked.

“That's none of your business !”, he answred agressively.

“I was just trying to be nice”, I responded him, getting up on my feet, ready to leave.

“That's my mother and brother's death anniversary”, he whispered, loud enough for me to hear it.

“I'm so sorry”, I told him. “I didn't know that you had a brother and that your mother was dead the same day as him.”

“Not here”, he suddenly said. “Come with me”, he added, holding his hand and grabbing mine to make me follow him in an empty room.

We sat in front of one of the ceiling to floor window which was facing the beautiful garden, rain dripping on the glass. We both sat cross-legged on the wooden floor and looked at the rain falling for a few minutes before James started to talk again.

“My little brother, Steve, died five years ago, he was six and I was eight. It was a stupid accident at first, he was two years younger than me. We were playing, he was on his scooter and I was pushing him, we went in the backyard of our holiday house, not far from the sea, and there was that slope, that steep slope. I climbed behind him and we went down it, we lost control of the scooter. I was thrown of off the scooter and I rolled down the slope, Steve was still on the scooter, screaming, begging for me to help him. I was full of cuts and bruises, my lower lip was slit, my left ankle was twisted and I had a broken wrist. But Steve, he... His race to the ground was still so quick...”, he stopped to catch his breath, and that's at this moment that I realized how fast he was speaking. “He... He was kicked from the scooter too, but he landed on his head. Even from where I was, I heard his skull crack, I remember the noise it made, I saw him fall like a rag doll then. He wasn't moving anymore, I screamed his name but he didn't move either. I don't know how I did but I managed to get up and run to him, despite my cuts and bruises, my broken wrist and above all my twisted ankle, he wasn't answering to my calls, he didn't react when I shook him. He was hardly breathing. We were alone, no guards with us, our nanny was on her own holidays, our mother was alone with us and she trusted me with Steve's life and instead of taking care of him, he was severely injured. I screamed, hoping that someone would hear me. Due to shouting, someone finally heard me, it was a couple, young people, mi-twenties. The boy came to us, asking me what happened, I explained and he sent his girlfriend to our house, she came back a few minutes later, our mother on her heels and a few servants. One of them had called an ambulance, they were quick but, time we arrived to the hospital, it was too late, but we didn't know it yet. Steve was taken right away by the best doctors of the nearest hospital. My father had been called too, he left the palace immediately. While Steve was under a lot of tests, another doctor took care of me, they asked how all of that happened and so did my parents. My father was furious, saying that it was all my fault, my mother was helpless, she spent her time to pass in the room, waiting for any news of my little brother. The doctor who was taking care of me took me in quieter room, he patched me up, disinfected my wounds and plastered my wrist and ankle. Steve was having an MRI and it revealed a broken skull and a huge hematoma on his brain and a lot of blood. The doctors took him in an OR and opened his head to drained the blood and to reduce the bruise. They managed to, at least we thought they did. After two stable days, on the third one, Steve's state changed and it became worse. He died on that day, because the hematoma was compressing his brain and it deprived it of it's oxygen. My mother never recovered of it, Steve was her baby, her pregnancy was hard, Steve was the last child she could have. The day of Steve's death first anniversary, my mother died, she let herself wither during that year and she died. My father still thinks that it's my fault, and I still think that it's my fault too”, he finished, looking at me with those big blue orbs, full of tears.

“This is so sad, I didn't know that your family was so broken, and the way it happened, it's horrible. But I don't think that it's your fault. You were just a child, sharing a moment with his young brother.”

He looked at me as if it was the first time that someone told him that it was the first time no one reproached him his little brother's death.

“What about you ?”, he asked once he was calmed. “What's your story ? You might have some story too. After all your mother is alone and a strong woman, so maybe you can tell me.”

I took a deep breath, was I really ready to say to that guy that hated me barely an hour ago the sad story of my life ?

“So you noticed”, I started. “So the big thing is that I don't know my father. He left when I was a baby. That's what my mom told me, I don't know if he left left or if he's dead. My mother never talk about him. When I was old enough to ask, I questioned her about him, and she just said that she had love him very much and that they kinda suddenly realized that they were not meant to be together, but they then knew that I was in my mom's belly so they stayed together, until a few weeks after my birth, he told her that he couldn't do it, that he wouldn't manage to do it, that he couldn't be a father, that he didn't love me as cute as I might be. She never said anything else, just that she didn't need him to raise me and I didn't need him to love me because she was loving me enough for two.”

“We both have sucking stories.”

“Yes, but, I think that can make us be friends”, I answered him.

“You think so ?”, he asked.

“Absolutely, James”, I smiled to him.

“So friends ?”, he questioned, holding his pinky finger.

“Friends”, I responded, linking mine with his.

“By the way, you can call me Bucky.”

“Bucky ?”, I demanded, frowning.

“That's the nickname Steve gave me.”

“Alright, Bucky”, I said, turning my attention back to the falling rain.

And that's how things started between us. Starting by a friendship that with years evolved in something more. Something we didn't see immediately. It took us a few times to realize. Three years and a stupid game for my birthday. Bloody Seven Minutes in Heaven. King George organized a party for my sixteenth birthday, nothing formal like for James' birthday in March, children of nobles of the kingdom were invited, those that Bucky and I could sort of consider as friends. At some point, they blindfolded me and pushed me in a closet. A few seconds later, they pushed someone else in the closet.

“Y/N, are you here ?”

“Bucky ?”

“Yep, that's me.”

“What are we supposed to do in here ?”

“Well that's Seven Minutes in Heaven game and we're supposed to kiss.”

“Oh”, was the only thing I managed to answer.

“We're not forced if you don't want to.”

“I... I don't know in fact. Maybe we should try.”

“Hey, it's okay if you don't want to.”

Without responding, I grabbed him and pulled to me, crashing my lips on his. We pulled away after a second, just enough for Bucky to pull me back to his mouth. Our noses bumped against each other, his soft pink kissable lips caressing mine. Without realizing it, my arms wrapped themselves around his neck and his hands landed on my waist. He pulled me closer once again, our chest touching. He opened his mouth and his tongue poked my lower lip as if he was asking for some kind of permission. I allow it and then our kiss become a lot wetter than the one before and than I expected. As our kiss deepened, I felt Bucky's hand tightening around my waist, and my hands found their way to his hair. I don't know how long we stayed in the closet, but the thing that made us pull away were cheers from the guests. I felt my cheeks heating under their gaze, Bucky's hands still around my waist.

“It was about time”, one of them shouted and I buried my head in Bucky's chest.

The rest of the evening was spent with Bucky's arms around me, or his hand in mine, or dancing close. When I blown my candles, he put a sweet little kiss on my nose making me giggle.

I thought it was a one time thing, but it wasn't. First it was stolen kisses in corridors, Bucky took the habit of grabbing me when I passed by him and we spent the next minutes kissing as if Earth was going to stop turning. I don't know if our parents knew at the beginning, what's sure is that mom learnt it on a day I was supposed to help her for a big event. Bucky sneaked inside the kitchen behind me and put down a kiss on my nape. My mother looked at us, holding back a chuckle.

“Mrs Y/L/N, can I borrow Y/N to you please ?”, he asked.

“I can't James, my mother needs help.”

“Go darling, I'll handle this by myself”, my mother answered. “Go on lovebirds. Enjoy your youth time you can do it.”

And that's how it was, everyday, when we were free. We were inseparable, always together, never far from each other. Two years passed. Our relationship was getting more and more serious. I was Bucky's plus one to all the receptions, official girlfriend. I remember one day, someone asking King George if it disturb him to see his son dating his baker's daughter.

“Well, my son is young”, he answered, “he's having fun for now, I think that in one or two years, he is going to return to his senses.”

Was it true, was James going to grow tired of me and marry a princess or a rich girl someday ? We were barely eighteen and I didn't want to think about it. We were so in love and I also wasn't thinking about the future. One night and after a long talk, we decided that it was time for us to have our first time. Obviously, it was disastrous. It was both our first time, it was clumsy and sorta painful the first time, but we decided to try a second time after a few hours and it was better. It wasn't the first time that I was sleeping in Bucky's bedroom, but I arranged myself to be gone before the servants came in for their morning service. But on that day, we were tired that none of us heard the maid enter the room with clean towels for Bucky's shower.

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry your highness !”, she suddenly exclaim, seeing that James wasn't alone in his bed. “I thought that you were alone, I didn't know that you had company.”

The night before, after our second round of love making, I fell asleep on the top of Bucky, his arms around me, which thightened when I tried to get up.

“That's okay Bryce, you can come back later”, Bucky mumbled while I was burring my face in the crook of his neck, mortified. Being a couple was a thing, being surprised in the morning after sex, stark naked in the future king's arms was another.

Bryce went out of the room and knowing her, it was sure that in less that five minutes, all the servants were going to know that she found me there.

Time continued to pass, and contrary to what King George said, Bucky and I were still together. We celebrated our twenty-five birthday him in March and mine three months later. My mother died the year before, generalized cancer. She knew it for two years and only told me when it was sure that she couldn't be cured. I spent three days crying in my room, not even letting Bucky in, until he climbed by my window to let himself in. He held me in his arms the all day, not saying a word. I became the baker in chief of the castle, working on cakes and deserts while still being with Bucky at parties and officials events. It doesn't seem to disturb anyone in the kingdom, nor in the other kingdoms, maybe they thought that King George was enough open-minded to let his son being with one of his employee.

For the past year, a little after my mother's death, we started to talk about mariage and maybe children. At that moment, we were still thinking that King George would let us be. Unfortunately, it wasn't the case. James planned to ask me to marry him and when he announced to his father his intention to make of me his wife, princess and future queen, King George simply answered him that if he did it, he would unprivileged him, no matter if he was his only child or not. When he came back and told me what his father said, he told me that he didn't care, that Romania and his father didn't matter, that all that matter was me and our love. I answered that we could find another way, to be together. That's when he came to that idea.

“What if, you got pregnant, if I'm the first one to know, he will be forced to let us marry, he would never let the future heir of Romania being a bastard.”

“I know what we said about having children, but do you think that it's a good idea ?”, I asked.

“That's maybe the only one we can try”, he finished, holding me close to him, before pecking the top of my head.

A few weeks later, there was another event. Once again, a lot of people from other kingdoms were invited, royals, ambassadors, ministers, in short, a lot of important people. As I went for drinks for Bucky and me, I heard a conversation between two young women of my age.

“I'm telling you, Dot, he's not going to be interesting. He's been with that girl for nine years now. He's in love with her, I've never seen him looking at any other girl.”

“He doesn't know me yet”, the Dot girl responded to her friend. “I can offer him things that girl can't. What is she anyway ?”

“A baker”, her friend answered.

“A baker ?!”, she laughed scornful. “What does he even see in her ? She's nothing. She doesn't have any important links or allies.”

“King George seems to think that Prince James is going to change his mind about her, but he's wasting his time.”

“Let me try”, Dot told her. “I'm gonna wait for the party to be in full swing and I'll try. I'm gonna insist so much that he's going to forgot his little baker.”

“Good luck with that”, I said, passing by the two of them, two glasses in my hands, heading to Bucky waiting for me in a corner, talking to one of ambassadors.

I felt the two girls gaze on me when Bucky bent down to kiss me and put his arm around my waist while still taking to the ambassador. Later during the evening, the Dot girl came and asked James to dance with her, saying that for the good relationships of her country and Romania, it would be nice to the future ruler of Romania to dance with her. She monopolized him for a few dances, until the moment I saw him stop dancing and telling her something, visibly pissed off.

“That girl is the devil”, James said taking his previous place next to me. “She insinuated that because you were not a royal you were not worthy of being my wife.”

“She don't understand us, she's a spoiled girl, she doesn't know what real life is.”

“I know, but now, enough talking about her. Would you dance with me, doll ?”

“I'll be honored to, your highness.”

James grabbed my hand and led me on the dance floor.

“I love you, you know that, don't you doll ?”

“Yes, I know, and I love you too Bucky.”

I laid my head on his shoulder and we slowly swayed to the music. It was like there was just him and me and no one else. When we go back to his bedroom, James made love to me more tenderly that he ever did. After losing ourselves in each others touches, I fell asleep in his arms, feeling that this was where I belonged. The last thing I heard was Bucky saying once again that he loved me.

Obviously, we couldn't plan what was going to happen after that night. It's been a few days since I didn't feel good in the morning. I felt nauseous and the sight only of food in the morning was enough to make me sick. That morning again, I rushed to the toilets barely awake. Bucky woke up early because he had some official duties to attend to, so I was alone in the bedroom. After I emptied the lining of my stomach, I went to the castle's medicine cabinet which was at the disposal of every living person in the castle, that contained everything that could be useful, including pregnancy tests. I took one and head back to the bathroom in Bucky's bedroom. Sitting on the toilet and peeing on the stick, I then waited for the result. These were the longest three minutes of my life. And I finally looked at it, it was positive. It was positive. I was expecting Bucky's baby, which meant that when I would told him, we could get married. I felt so happy, but I had to wait for him to come back. I put the test in the trash, deciding to make a special cake for James tonight when he would be back.

I headed to the kitchen, starting to make his favorite cake, planing to make a special drawing on it. Something to announce him the big new. When the cake was ready and I was preparing the sugar-paste icing, a servant from the castle entered in the kitchen.

“Miss Y/L/N”, he said.

“Yes, what can I do for you ?”, I asked him.

“The king wants to see you in his office right now, miss.”

“Can't it wait a few minutes, I have to finish this”, I responded, showing him my unfinished cake, whilst I was wiping my forehead, my hands full of floor.

“He said right now, miss.”

“Give me a minute, I'm gonna wash my hands”, I told him, worried about his tone and the fact that King George wanted to see me without warning, him that usually avoid me except when he was forced to.

I washed my hands, cleaned my face and followed the servant to King George's. I checked my hair and clothes, even if he didn't like me, he was the king and I had to be presentable. The servant knocked on the king's office door.

“Come in”, he ordered.

The servant opened the door and I steped in, King George, his back facing me, was looking through the window, inside the garden.

“Your Majesty”, I said, bowing, when he turned around.

“You can leave”, the king motionned to the sevant, who closed the door behind him. “Take a sit”, he added to my attention.

I obeyed. I better knew that I had to. He turned to me, as cold as usual, his gaze traveling from my head to my toes, stopping on my stomach.

“The servant that emptied James' bathroom this morning brought something to me after she cleaned it”, I looked at him taking something from his desk's drawer. I recognized the pregnancy test I did the very morning. “I think this looks familiar to you”, he added, putting it on his desk.

“How... Why... Why did you rummage through our trash ?”, I asked him, shocked that he had it done.

“Because my son is stupid enough to take a harmful decision just to keep you next to him and I can't allow it. Luckily for me, I'm the first one to learn it, if James were the first, he would have claim the right to marry you. So, I'm gonna give you a choice. Give up on James and I'll let you and your child live somewhere, far from Romania, and you will never contact James ever again and he will never have to know about that kid. He's going to be back in a few hours, so you'll have time to pack your things in a suitcase and to broke up with him. You're going to go inside of his bedroom and you will tell him that you are leaving him, that you never loved him.”

I was holding back my tears. I couldn't believe what he was asking me to do. Pretend that I never love the man I fell in love with when I was sixteen, the only man I've ever known, the man I spent nine years with, the love of my life.

“What if I refuse ?”, I asked, my eyes full of hate.

“If you refuse ?”, he repeated, laughing, bypassing his desk to stand in front of me. “If you refuse, my dear Y/N, I'll make of your life a living hell”, he answered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I will find a way to make you lose that baby, and you'll be miserable for the rest of your life or don't have a life anymore, accidents happen so fast. Or I might lock you up in a cell and tell James that you ran away, and no one will know where you are.”

I listened to his threats, still trying to hold back my tears.

“I'll never let you separate me from Bucky !”, I nearly yelled.

“It's Prince James to you, you’re maybe fucking him and carry his child, he's the prince of that country and you are nothing, so you better don't forget that my child ! You better accept my first proposal. I have other plans for James. Bigger plans. You have met princess Dot at the party, well she did a proposal that I can't refuse. So tell James that you don't love him or maybe, you and that child you're carrying are going to rejoin your mother”, he continued to threat.

“I'll will do as you want”, I said completely broken, my tears falling down my cheeks.

“You have”, he looked at his watch, “two hours to pack your things and then, say your goodbyes and leave”, he finished, still as cold as ice.

While I was trying to process everything he just told me, he called a guard to escort me to my house to watch that I was packing as he said. Before going to that tiny place I had and which was sort of mine, I stopped by Bucky's bedroom to take some of my stuff.

“You must take everything, miss”, the guard told me. “Nothing can stay.”

“I know”, I responded, wiping my eyes.

“I'm really sorry for you miss”, he suddenly said, after a few seconds of silence, while I was folding a few clothes. “Prince James is going to be devastated to see that you're gone. The whole castle thought that the king would let the two of you be, and the people too. This is completely unfair.”

I didn't answer, I was afraid that if I opened my mouth again, tears would fall again. He then escorted me to my little house. I put other things in my suitcase. I sighed when I locked the door. My whole life was in two suitcases. I waited for the guard to have the signal of Bucky's return from the event he was attended to.

“Your suitcases are in the car, miss”, the guard said, “you can go and see prince James, he's in his bedroom.”

I lifted my gaze to watch his face. My eyes were dry due to my crying. I got up and followed him. I managed to compose myself before facing Bucky. I took a deep breath and entered his room. His back was facing me, he was passing his hands through his short chestnuts hair, making them messy. The sun was hitting his skin and I couldn't believe what I was about to do. He might have heard the door cracked because he turned around, a huge smile on his face.

“Hey doll”, he said, walking towards me, to hold me close to him. “I missed you all day, I wish you were there with me”, he added, leaning to kiss me.

“Bucky please, I have something important to tell you”, I tried to free myself from his embrasse.

He looked at me with puppy eyes, not understanding why I suddenly wanted him to let me go.

“Y/N, babe, is everything alright.”

“I have something important to tell you, James.”

He frowned at the way I said his given name. I didn't know where to start so I decided that I should be direct.

“I'm leaving you James”, I told him, without daring looking at his face.

“That's... That's a joke. Please... Please, tell me that it's a joke”, he stammered.

“No that's not. I'm leaving and you can't make me stay.”

“But, why ? Is it because of what that Dot girl said a few days ago, during the ball ? Did someone ask you to do so ? Did someone threat you ? Did my father ask you to do this ?”

“No, James no one asked me anything, that's my own decision”, I said, barely looking at his face, but not into his eyes.

“Just like that ?!”, he nearly screamed. “That's a sudden decision, when we talked about getting married and have kids, finding a plan to get around my father's plan. Why, tell me, why ?”

“Because I don't love you”, I blurted.

“No, I don't believe it”, tears in his gorgeous blue eyes, like the day we became friends.

“That's the truth James, I don't love you”, I still don't look at him.

“I don't believe it, and you know why, you're not even looking at me in the eyes. So do it Y/N, look at me in the eyes and tell me that you don't love me.”

I gathered my courage and look at him in the eyes : “I don't love you James. I never have.”

“No, you're lying, you don't fake a nine years relationship.”

“No James, I don't love you, now let me go.”

I turned abruptly and started to run. I knew that Bucky would try to follow me, and King George knew it too, so as soon as I rushed out of Bucky's bedroom door, two of them blocked him the way out. I heard him scream my name but I didn't stop. I reached the car and opened it before I dive in the backseat. That's the moment I allowed myself to cry. The car started to run and I finally allowed myself to cry. I heard from the front of the car, the radio playing the song from A Chorus Line, What I Did For Love. At the moment, that song perfectly represented what I was feeling. Through the open window, I heard that Bucky was still shouting my name, asking me to come back, screaming that he loved me. I tried to convince myself that what I just did was for love, saying to Bucky that I didn't love him was what I did for love, my love for him and for our future baby.

After an hour's drive, we finally arrived at the airport. The driver had for instruction to accompany me to the reservation desk where a plane ticket was waiting for me to London. There I had an hotel room waiting for me and for tomorrow, another plane ticket, with my name on to anywhere I want, except Romania. King George also gave me a lot money for leaving Romania. Money to buy my silence, it was added to the salary I earned for my work as a baker, even if I was dating James, I still was an employee of the castle, and to the inheritance my mother left me. All of that made a little fortune, I could literally do what I wanted with all of that. Once in London, I reached the hotel where King George had booked me a room, it was near to Heathrow airport. Once there, I finally did something I didn't had time to do since I saw the result of the pregnancy test, I lifted my shirt and looked at my belly in the mirror. I put my hand on it, moving it up and down.

“Don't worry baby, we're going to make it.”

The next day, I figured out what to do. I know that I couldn't stay in London, I had no acquaintances there after all, I left fifteen years ago, I was a child and I spent more time in Romania than anywhere else. I looked at some old pictures I put in one of my suitcases, it was a photograph of my mother and me, when I was a baby, in front of a bakery. I turned the picture around and watch at my mother's nice handwriting. It read : “Martha and Y/N, Cape May, March 1988”. I wasn't even a year old. Cape May, my birthplace. That's the place I had to go, no one could find me there, nor Bucky, nor King George, I would live a quite life, with my baby there. I called the airport and booked a ticket for Newark for the very evening.

I arrived by night in Cape May, took a cab and ask the driver to take me to an hotel. He stopped me in front of the Jersey S.H.I.E.L.D. telling me that it was one of the best and cheapest place in town. I thanked and paid him, before stepping outside of the car to take my two suitcases that he put out of the trunk. I dragged my luggage behind me and pushed the main door. The hallway, which was the reception too, was cosy and welcoming. No one was behind the counter, so I decided to ring the bell. Five minutes later, a tall dark-skinned man stepped in.

“Good evening miss, what can I do for you ?”, he asked me.

“I'd like to rent a room, please.”

“For how long ?'

“I don't know yet, time I find a place to settle”, I answred him.

“Perfect. What name please ?”

“Y/L/N”, I said, “Y/N Y/L/N.”

“We had a Y/L/N here like twenty five years ago, she looked like you, Y/H/C hair, Y/E/C eyes, she had a daughter that might be your age now. She was a baker. Her name was Martha.”

“That's my mom”, I said, looking at the man.

He lifted his gaze to me, detailing me more that he did before, looking at my whole face, a smile appearing.

“The last time I saw you, you were a tiny toddler. When your mother left for England you were too young to remember anything, so I don't think that you remember me. I'm Nick, Nick Fury”, he held his hand to me.

“I don't want to be rude Mister Fury, but I feel really tired, I had a long journey.”

“Yes, of course dear, I'm gonna call my son to take your luggage to your room”, he turned to the place he came from. “T'Challa”, he called. “You might not remember my son T'Challa, but you were under the watch of the same nanny, my wife, Ororo.”

“Yes, father ?”, a very good looking tall young man of my age appeared in the door frame.

“Can you please tale Miss Y/L/N's suitcases in room 32.”

“Of couse, dad”, he passed by me, shooting a bright smile.

“How's your mother ?”, Nick asked me when his son was gone, showing me where I had to go.

“She died last year. Generalized cancer”, I answered him.

“Oh, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have ask”, he apologized.

“That's okay, don't worry.”

He showed me an open door, and motioned for me to come in. T'Challa crossing our way when he went out.

“I'll send him in fifteen minutes to give you some food, and then, you'll be able to rest”, Nick told me.

“Thank you”, I answered. “But, we didn't talk about how much it'll coast for the room.”

“Oh don't worry for that, my dear. Your mother was family to me, so you are family too, and we don't make family pay.”

After a few days of rest, I decided that it was time to find a house and a place to work. Nick told me that the old bakery where my mother used to work, closed not long after she left, the owner died and no one was there to reopen it.

“What if I reopened it ?”, I said one day, while I was making dessert for diner, what I was now used to do as some kind of repay, since Nick didn't want me to pay for my room.

“That could be a good idea, and you have the money for that”, Nick answered, sitting at the kitchen table, looking at what I was doing, knowing that I had money, even if I didn't tell him that it was my ex-boyfriend father who gave it to me to buy my silence.

“Yes, but, I'm gonna need someone to make bread, I can only do cakes, pastries and viennoiseries”, I sighed.

“I might have an idea”, T'Challa entered the kitchen.

“I'm listening”, I said, looking up from my mixture.

“I have a friend, Sam, he's a baker, he wanted to buy the old bakery that your mother worked in. He didn't have enough money and the bank didn't want to make him a loan. They said he didn't had enough guarantees. So he's selling bread at his place. It kinda pisses off his wife, Natasha. I can call him and you could meet.”

“Why not, an associate is a good idea, I can't run a bakery by myself, especially not with a baby on its way.”

I had an appointment the next day for buying the store and a house and T'Challa called his friend for me to meet him at his home to propose him the job. I decided that I was going to use the huge money King George gave me only to buy the bakery, the house and furniture for it, and no more. I decided to earn my life as anyone else, keeping the money in case I'm going to need it in the future. The seller was surprised that a twenty-five years old young woman could buy a house and a store so easily. I made a story up, saying that I inherit it from family. He didn't ask more and made me sign the papers.

The next day, I went to the Wilson's house, I was hoping to have a positive answer from Sam to be my associate in that business. I rang the bell and a beautiful red-head woman, with stunning green eyes opened the door. I assumed that it was Natasha, Sam's wife.

“Hello”, she said, “what can I do for you ?”

“Hi, sorry to disturb you. I'm T'Challa's friend and I'm here to see Sam Wilson.”

“Oh, you must be Y/N”, she said, smiling at me. “Come in, I'm gonna call him. He's downstairs making a batch. Sam, T'Challa's friend is here”, she shouted, through an open door that must lead to the basement.

“I'm coming baby”, I heard a voice shouting back.

Natasha made me follow her in the kitchen, she proposed me something to drink and I accepted a cup of tea. We start talking and she told me that she and Sam were married for two years now, they met at college and arrived from D.C four years ago. Five minutes later, a tall man with a dark skin and a goofy smile appeared.

“Hi”, he said, leaning to kiss his wife's forehead, before holding his hand to me, “you must be Y/N. T'Challa talked a lot about you, he even made me taste a piece of one of your cakes, it was like heaven.”

“Thanks”, I responded, blushing.

“So, it's about the bakery, that's it ?”, he asked, sitting next to Natasha.

“Yes, that's it.”

And I explained everything to him. He was completely excited by the project and accepted right away. With years, and as the Furys, the Wilsons became my family.

A month later, after I settle down in my new house and started the renovation of the bakery, I had an appointment to the gynecologist for an ultrason to know the baby's sex.

“It's gonna be cold”, the doctor warned me.

She started to move her wand, looking at my baby's figure on the screen.

“Here you can see a hand, and there is a foot. The head is here, eyes, nose, mouth. Do you want to know if it's a boy or a girl ? They're are in a good angle to see.”

“Yes, I would love to”, I said in awe, looking at that little one that Bucky and I made.

“So, it's a...”, she moved the wand once again, “a boy”, she turned to me and grinned widely.

“Steven James”, I whispered to myself when she turned back to the screen.

“What ?”, she might have heard me.

“That's... That's the name I'm going to give him. I made my mind a long time ago.”

“Well, if you're sure of that, I can already put his name on your file.”

I just nodded. She gave me another appointment and said that next time, it could be good if I had someone coming with me. Maybe the father. I explained that there was no father and she suggest that a friend could be the one coming with me.

Five months later, I gave birth to Steve. Sam and Natasha were in the labor room with me, each of them holding my hands. At the beginning, the doctors didn't want to let them in, and I told them that I wouldn't gave birth to my child without my family supporting me, so they gave up. I cried when Steve was put down on my chest. He had a mop of dirty blond hair on the top of his head, like his oncle I named him after as I saw on the many pictures there was in the castle when I lived there. When he opened his eyes and turned his little head to me, I noticed two grey-blue orbs, the same as Bucky's, the same that stared at me during fifteen years. I burst into tears at that moment. The doctors thought that I needed to rest, the truth was that everything was suddenly overwhelming me, the fact that I was the only relative that Steve would ever know and that I will have to be everything to him. When I came back home, I realized that I wasn't as alone as I thought. I had Sam and Natasha, Nick, Ororo and T'Challa. I asked Nat and Sam to be Steve's godparents, what they accepted without even thinking twice.

I tried to date a few men during the past five years. It started with T'Challa. Barely a month after I arrived, he asked me out, saying that he would love us to know each other again, because we were just toddlers when I left. I accepted, quickly realizing that he wanted more than friendship. I gently pushed him away, saying that I wasn't ready to be romantically involved again, and that even if I really liked him, I thought about him only as a friend and not as a potential lover. I had other dates, that were not really important, most of them running away when I told them that I had a kid. There was only one that didn't ran away. I met him at the bookstore he was running. Steve was two years old, and I went there to buy him story books. One second away from looking at him, and Steve managed to sneak out from his stroller.

“Stevie ! Stevie where are you ?”, I looked for him in the store and a tall man with black hair and green eyes came out from the back shop, Steve between his arms.

“Mommy, mommy”, Steve's little voice yelled.

“He's here”, he said holding him to me. “I think he just wanted to explore”, the man smiled.

“Thank you”, I told him. “Don't ever do that to me again Steven James Y/L/N ! Thank you so much”, I turned back to the guy.

“I'm Jared”, he introduced himself, shaking my hand.

“Y/N, and this is Steve.”

“Nice to meet the two of you. So what were you looking for ?”

“Just some story books for that little man before he goes to sleep at night.”

“Well, I can help you with that. That's my store, so I know what you can choose for that little fella.”

After three or four other visits to Jared's store, he invited me to diner with him. He was cute, nice, funny, smart and liked Steve. We started to date, but I told him that I wanted to take thing slow. When we had our fifth date, and when he took me back home, he asked if he could kiss me. I accepted but at the moment his lips where touching mine, I burst into tears.

“Y/N, did I do something wrong ?”, he sweetly asked.

“No, you're not doing anything wrong. That's me. I can't. I'm sorry, Jared, but I can't”, saying those words, I rushed into my house and locked the door, crying, my back to it.

Sam came from upstairs, where I assumed that he was checking on Steve. He proposed to look after him while I was out. Nat was visiting her family, and he was for once alone with his godson.

“Hey sweetie, why are you crying ?”, he questioned, sitting on the floor next to me. “Did he do something you didn't want to you ? He looked like a nice guy, though.”

“He's not the problem Sam, I am. He asked if he could kiss me and I said yes and when he did, I pushed him away.”

“Does this have a link with Steve's father ?”

I just nodded. I couldn't lie to Sam, he was my best friend, him and Natasha were, they were even more for me, family, the brother and the sister I never had.

“You know, you never told me about him nor what happened. What if I make you a cup of tea, and you tell me everything.”

I nodded again, letting Sam pull me up on my feet. I sat on the couch and he gave me tissues to mope my eyes. Several minutes later, he came back with two steaming cups of tea that put down on the coffee table.

“So, tell me, take your time, I'm staying here, Nat is out of town and my little sister needs me.”

I told him everything, well almost. I just stayed silent on Bucky's status, not telling him that he was a prince, I just told Sam that Bucky's family was really rich, I don't even gave him his real name, calling him Bucky only. I was nostalgic at the moment, and I still am today, I knew that deep in my heart, I still loved Bucky, that I still do. I had to leave but he was always here, in my heart and head and I couldn't do anything to drive him off of my head. Sam didn't judged me, I think that he was somehow understanding it, he asked if he could tell Natasha when she comes back and I accepted, trusting them enough to know that they won't tell anybody.

The next day, I went to Jared's store and apologized, telling him I would probably never be ready for a relationship, but that we could stay friends. He accepted.

So for almost three years now, I am single and the only man of my life is the little blond one deeply asleep in his tiny bed. A quick look at him makes me realize how much he looks like to his father, his way to sleep, the way he softly snores, the way he's lying down in his bed. Even his habits when he's awake. I still remember Bucky having milk mustache during breakfast, sometimes chocolate on his nose. I dread the day when Steve is going to ask me about his dad. He already started when he started school, asking why his classmates had dads and why he didn't. I just answered that it was complicated, and that I might explain it to him when he would be older. I take a last look at my uncrowned prince of Romania sleeping in his little bed, surrounded by colors, toys, stuffed animals, drawings that he made, and despite his four years old, he's already an artist. Before leaving the room, I lean and whisper inside his ear, 'I love you, I always have and I always will'. He slightly moves, opening and closing his mouth a few times, before squeezing his fox to his chest. I don't know what Bucky became, I shut all the news from Romania or the Romanian royal family. He probably married that evil girl and have a bunch of legitimate kids.

Every month, Sam and I organize a workshop for Cape May kids. Steve is always here and his classmates too. The kids love to bake and I often give them back to their parents full of chocolate and flour. I teach them to make desserts and cakes from all around the world and Sam show them how to make little balls of bread. Today is particularly hot and we opened all the windows and allowed the kids to play in the closed courtyard in front of the bakery. Sam and I are talking and laughing, and I suddenly hear Steve talking to someone who's not one of his friends. I look at Sam, making him understand that I'm going outside. A tall man, his back to me, is talking to my son.

“She's here”, Steve shouts, running to me. “Mommy, mommy, the man wanna talk to you”, he says, pointing the man behind him.

As if he was waiting for Steve to tell me that he wanted to see me, the man turns around. My hand flies to my mouth when he faces me, when I see those chestnuts messy hair, those blue-grey eyes that the little boy who is holding my hand has too, those plump red lips that kissed me so many times. The man I thought I would never see again in my life. James Buchanan Barnes. Bucky. I suddenly let Steve's hand go and run back inside, slamming the door. Both my hands reach my face and I try to breath normally again. Sam stares at me, as if I'm crazy.

“Y/N, is everything alright ?”, he asks.

I just shake my head.

“What's going on ?”

As I still don't answer, Sam decides to go outside to see what's going on.

“Uncle Sam !!!”, I hear Steve cheering.

“Kids, go back inside”, Sam calmly.

“But why ?”, Steve asks.

“Do what I ask Steve.”

The kids all rush inside. I'm sitting on the floor, my knees to my chest, my head between my hands. Steve approaches me and puts a hand on my shoulder.

“Are you okay mommy ?”

I lift my teary eyes to him. How can I say to my kid why I am crying when I'm no even sure that he is going to understand.

“Mommy”, Steve looks at me, his lower lip trembling, his eyes starting to watering, he throws himself in my arms, wrapping his arms around my neck. “Don't cwy mommy, pwease, don't cwy.”

I start to smooth his hair with my hand, holding him close to me.

“It's gonna be okay baby, look, that's okay, I'll stop.”

I grab a dish towel and start to wipe my eyes and then Steve's, making him blow in it. Sam comes back at the same moment. He holds his hand to and helps me up. I take a look by the window.

“He's gone”, Sam says, “but he gave me this for you. He said that he'd like you to call him. He's staying at Nick's.”

Sam gives me a card with a phone number on and James' full name and title.

“I'm gonna call the kids' parents, and you and Steve are going to come home to eat and we're going to talk a little.”

I nod, not knowing what to say. The parents arrive to take their kids ten minutes later and I tell them that they will have their kids cakes and bread the next day. When one of the parents ask why I looked so bad, Sam simply answers that I'm not feeling really well and that we preferred to send the kids back home instead of giving them bugs.

Once at Sam's place, he directly goes to see Natasha in the living room, where she's feeding their six-month old daughter, Romy.

“Auntie Nat !!!”, Steve shouts stepping inside the house.

“Hey Stevie, how are you ?”

“Good. Hello Womy.”

The baby looks up at Steve, pushing the teat out of her mouth, her big green eyes open, babbling at Steve.

“Hey, are you okay ?”, Nat asks me when I finally follow Steve's path.

“Not really.”

She looks up at Sam and he nods. While Steve was kneeling in front of the coffee table, enjoying his meal Sam ordered him, next to Romy who's looking at him, still babbling in her baby rocker, we sit in the kitchen, it's time to tell everything I hide to my friends.

“Why didn't you tell us that your Bucky was the prince James Barnes of Romania ?”, Sam starts.

“Baby, please, go slow on her, it must be tough for her to see him after so long”, Nat pleads.

“Because I didn't think that I was going to see him again in my life”, I answer. “How was I supposed to tell you 'my boyfriend's father, the king of Romania gave me a lot of money for me to go away because he didn't want me to marry his son and when I heard that I was pregnant he threatened me to death if I was staying'.”

“Yeah, sorry, you're right”, Sam apologizes.

“What are you going to do ?”, Nat asks.

“I think, I'm gonna call him. Now that he's here and that he saw Steve, I don't really have the choice. Steve is gonna ask a lot of questions, but, now that he has the opportunity, I'd love him to know his dad.”

When I come back home, with a very excited full of food Steve. I help him to put his pyjamas and clean up his face. Then, I sit on his bed, pulling him to me and making him sitting on my knees.

“Steve, baby, mommy has something to tell you.”

“Yes, mommy ?”, he snuggles into me and looks up at me in the eyes.

“Remember the man that asked for me earlier”, Steve nods. “Well, remember, you asked me about your daddy too ?”, he nods again. “Well, the man you saw earlier, that's your daddy. He came from far away, I don't know how he found us, but he did and I think that now he would like to know you. I'm going to call him tomorrow and maybe we can have lunch with him or tea. What do you think about it ?”

Steve nods. I decide that it's time that I told him about something else.

“Do you remember the story of the Prince and the baker girl, I can't tell you some parts because you are too young, but it's not a story, in fact that's your daddy and mine story.”

His little face lights up : “You mean my daddy is the pwince ?”

I nod : “Yes baby, your daddy is the prince. But for now, keep the secret. You promise.”

“Yes, mommy, I pwomise.”

“Good, now we're going to bed.”

As I told Steve, I call Bucky the next morning, asking him to join us for the afternoon snack, at the local tea house. Bucky was already there when Steve and I arrive. He's sitting at a table, alone, studying the tea house's menu. Steve's hand in mine, I walk to the table.

“Hi James.”

“Hello Y/N. Hi Steve.”

“Hello”, he shyly responds, not really knowing where he has to look.

“Come on baby, sit down.”

Steve sits, still not tearing his gaze away from Bucky. Few minutes later, Eva, the owner of the tea house shows to our table.

“Y/N, Steve, it's been a while”, she looks down at Steve, with a big smile. “Sir”, she says, turning to Bucky. “What can I get you ?”

“Chocolate and whipped cream !!!”, Steve exclaims.

“The same as usual Stevie.”

“I'm gonna take the same as usual too”, I smile to her.

“Sir ?”

“I'm... I'm gonna take the same thing too.”

Eva nods and comes back a few minutes later with our orders.

“And this is your order, I hope you're going to enjoy it.”

“Thanks Eva.”

After a few minutes of silence, Steve pokes my ribs.

“Mommy, give me the dwawing, pwease”, I hand him the fold paper and he unfolds it, slipping it on the table for Bucky to take it. “It's for you. I dwew a pwince, and a baby pwince. I am the baby pwince.”

“Thank you Steve, that's beautiful, I really like it”, Bucky says, looking at the drawing.

And that's how Steve and Bucky start to talk to each other, finding interests in common. When it's time for us to go, Bucky asks me if he can take Steve with him the next morning to spend the day together.

“Why would I say no. You're his father after all.”

“Thanks doll.”

I flinch at the nickname, it's been five years since anyone had called me that.

The next morning, Bucky takes Steve to spend the day with him. When I join Sam at the bakery, he asks me how was the meeting yesterday.

“Great”, I answer. “They quickly get along.”

Sam doesn't ask anything else.

When Bucky comes back with Steve, the last seems really happy, a few toys between his arms.

“Look mommy, daddy and I had a great day. We went to the beach and we ate ice creams. We also saw puppies and kitties. And we had cheeseburgers.”

“It seems that you had fun”, I smile down to Steve. “Go upstairs and wash your hands. I'm coming in a few minutes.”

“Goodbye daddy”, Steve shouts to Bucky before climbing the stairs.

“Bye Steve”, Bucky waves back to him.

When Steve is upstairs, Bucky looks at me, with a wide smile on his face.

“He's amazing, you raised him well.”

“I did my best. He's really clever. And I had wonderful people to help me.”

“Yeah, that Sam guy. At first, I thought you were dating him and then, Steve told me that he was his godfather, and his wife, Natasha, his godmother. And he even talked me about the baby, Romy.”

“He's really attached to them, after all, he knew them his whole life.”

“You managed to build a family”, I just nod as an answer. “Y/N, listen, I'd like to have diner with you tomorrow night, I'm going back to Romania the day after tomorrow and we need to talk I think.”

“Okay, why not. I'm gonna ask Sam and Nat to take care of Stevie tomorrow.”

“I pick you up at 7:30 ?”

“7:30 sounds good.”

“See ya tomorrow.”

He pecks my cheek and leave. I put my hand where his lips were barely seconds ago, smiling to myself as a teenager whom just have been invited to her first date. I'm interrupted in my thoughts by Steve calling for me upstairs.

“Stop worrying, you're perfect, absolutely stunning”, Natasha tells me while I'm passing back and forth in her living room.

“I don't know what he wants from me Nat. He just said that we needed to talk.”

At the moment she's about to add something, someone knocks on the front door. Sam opens it and Bucky steps in. They look at each other for a few minutes, and I don't know if Sam tries to intimidate him or if he decided that he wasn't ready to like him.

“Daddy !!!!”, Steve runs to Bucky and throws himself in his arms.

“Hey little one”, James ruffles our son's hair.

“Stevie, be nice tonight with uncle Sam and aunt Nat. You're sleeping here tonight, I'm going to pick you up tomorrow.”

Once at the restaurant, the beginning of the diner spend in a sort of awkward silence, until the middle of the main course.

“I need to know Bucky, how did you find me ?”

“When you left, I looked for you everywhere I could. To the most obvious places I thought you would be, but I didn't have any clues, you disappeared easily. I looked for you for two years. I had to slow down when my father got sick. And I had to stop when he was dying. And that's when he told me. He told me that he forced you to leave, that he forced you to lie to me, that he gave you money, that he forbid you to come back to Romania ever again, that he threatened you that if you stayed he would kill you or the baby you were carrying. That's how I learnt that you were pregnant. He said that on his deathbed. When he told me, all I wanted was to rush out of Romania and look for you again, but I haven't had time to. I was crowned before I had tome to process. For the past two years and a half, I had to rule my country, I had to change a lot if things there. I had to prove that I was worthy to reign. And before I had the time to realize it, almost three years passed. I thought it was hopeless and then I saw that article in a newspaper. I read it, not really taking attention about what I was reading, until I saw the pictures going with it. On the first one, you were with Sam and I saw red, thinking he was the man you started a new life with. And then there were two other photos, one of just you, and I thought that you didn't change. And the last one, how can I forget how I felt seeing it. You were holding a little boy in your arms, a dirty-blond hair little boy, looking so much like my little brother. I had to come, I had to see you, I had to see my son. The baby you didn't had time to tell me about. That baby that we wanted. The baby I couldn't stop thinking about since the moment I knew about him. And now that I met him, I know that I can't live without him.”

“Yeah, and you think that your delicious wife, what's her name again, oh yes, Dot, is going to accept it ? I don't think so”, I answer him, rising from my chair brusquely and rushing out of the restaurant.

“Y/N, wait”, I hear him running behind me. He probably left a lot of money on the table before going out.

He easily catches up on me and grabs my arm to make me stop. He's facing me, his eyes in mine, while we are both breathing heavily.

“I don't... I don't have a wife. I didn't marry her.”

“What ?!”

“I've been engaged with Dot, yes but she was insufferable. She spent her time to insult you, saying that you were not worthy of me, or of anyone else, she spent her time calling you 'that girl', and when she learnt about the baby, she called you a slut, ready to anything to have the throne. When my father died, the first thing I did was to break the engagement, I couldn't imagine myself married to such a bitch for the rest of my life, even if I had to spend it alone. And the truth is that I love you, I still love you and I always will, you're the love of my life Y/N Y/L/N and it's not going to stop anytime soon.”

I haven't noticed until now that rain was falling. With those words, Bucky leans towards me and kisses me, like we had so much times before. His kisses haven't changed, they are still so sweet and passionate, but yet so needy. His arms circle my waist when my hands find their way to his hair. Rain continues to fall, people are running but nothing else exists around us.

“Home”, I whisper against his lips, and we start running hand in hand to my front door.

I quickly open the door and pull James inside by his collar. He shut it and follows me in the stairs. Once in my bedroom, we pull off our clothes. Bucky lies me down on my bed and kisses my lips again, until it becomes something more.

When I wake up, I feel under my cheek a smooth skin belonging to a strong body. I sigh in content, my face rising and falling with Bucky's breathing. He fell asleep with an arm around me and the other behind his head. It stopped raining at some moment during the night but we don't even notice when. At the beginning, I was surprised that Bucky's skin against mine felt so familiar even after five years, but it's still the same between us, nothing has changed. I smile at that thought.

“Why are you smiling ?”, his tired voice asks me.

“I'm just thinking at how perfect was last night”, I answer, lifting my upper body, and putting my chin on my hands, on his chest.

“Yeah it was, as in the good old days.”

He suddenly flips me on my back and hovers me, his lips ready to crash against mine, when we're interrupted.

“Mommy !!! I'm home !!!”

“Shit”, I push Bucky back to the bed and rush outside to dress with the first thing I find, Bucky's shirt.

A rapid look at the clock and I see that it's 11:30 am. Steve was supposed to stay with Sam and Nat until I was going to take him there. Behind me, I hear Bucky getting dress.

“What are you doing here ?”, I ask, when I see Sam closing the door.

“Steve wanted to come back, he said he forgot his drawing pad. I didn't think that you would still be busy”, he answers, with a cocky smirk on his face.

“Shut up !”

I go to Steve and kiss his cheek. James is coming downstairs, shirtless, only wearing his pants.

“Daddy !!!”, Steve turns to him. “You slept hewe ?”

“Yes, Stevie, I slept here. Your mommy and I had a conversation last night.”

“You stay hewe ?”, Steve asks again.

“No baby”, I answer. “Daddy has to go back to his country. He has a lot of work to do.”

“And that's something else I wanted to talk about last night.”

“Can this wait for after we take a shower and have lunch ?”, I ask him.

“Sure, doll, it can”, he grabs his jacket on the banister. “Join me with Steve at my hotel, I'm taking you both to lunch”, he adds, before pecking my lips and petting Steve's hair. “Sam”, he says, passing by him.

“Your highness”, Sam answers.

As soon as Bucky closes the door, Sam turns to me, saying that Natasha is going to want to know all the details.

After I took a quick shower and chose a blue sundress, Steve and I head to Bucky's hotel. He's waiting for us outside. He takes Steve's other hand and the three of us walk to the restaurant. From the outside, if you're looking at us, we look like a classic family, but we're not. Steve knows his dad for only three days and it's already like he had him his whole life, as for me, it's like we never have been separated during the last five years. We spend the day as a family, taking pictures, as if it's something we often do, Steve even saying that it's disgusting when we kiss. The day finishes way too quickly, and around five, we're back at Bucky's hotel because he has to leave for New York to take his plane to Romania.

We sit on the park next to the hotel, Steve plays in the installations, when Bucky turns to me.

“Come back to Romania with me.”

“What ?!”

“Please. I can't live without the two of you. Come back to Romania with me, be my wife, my queen, Steve would be the true heir of the realm. I love you and I love Steve. I have two planes tickets, I know that Steve has a passport, he told me you had to make him one to go to the French Caribbean, he told me that you, Sam and Nat went there last summer. Please come back with me.”

“I... I can't Bucky, as much as I want to, I can't. That's not a life for me.”

“That's not what you were saying five years ago.”

“It was five years ago. Things have changed Bucky. There's Steve, how can I make him change his whole life ? I love you but I can't leave everything like this.”

“There's two plane tickets in that envelope. I'm giving it to you. If you want to come, you just have to give it to the counter. It expires next month. I'll be waiting for you.”

And with that, he kisses me one last time, before raising, and then, goes to Steve to say goodbye. I see from my seat my son crying, not wanting to say goodbye to his dad, without knowing when he's going to see him again, or if he's going to see him again. It breaks my heart, but how could I say yes to Bucky, even if I really wanted to. How can I take my son to a place he doesn't know, where the only people he's going to know are his father and me for him to lose everything he ever knew.

Bucky has left for a week now. Steve cries everyday and I'm not in a better state. I miss having Bucky around, I miss that feeling I have when he's around, the feeling that I'm not alone in the world, that feeling that my heart is not half empty.

“Okay, that's enough now”, Nat finishes to say one day. “I can't bear to see the two of you that miserable ! It has to stop, Y/N. You and Steve are miserable since the moment James left. Go to him, go find him.”

“But Nat I can't...”

“No”, she cuts me. “I heard your excuses one hundred times, I'm tired of it. You're looking for excuses because you're afraid. But you don't have to be. He's waiting for you, for you two. Go to him.”

Without thinking, I rise from my seat and run home. I grab two suitcases, one for me, the other for Steve. I throw clothes and toilet set in both cases. I quickly checked before taking our stuff for a plane to Romania. I found one in three hours. I rush to my car, plane tickets and passports in hand, putting the cases in the trunk and start the engine to Steve's school. Once there, I open his classroom's door, say to his teacher that it's important, that we have to go somewhere, somewhere we were expected. Steve is confused, he doesn't know where we are going and he asks for his fox. I throw it to him quickly, without taking my eyes off the road. I stop by Nat and Sam's house, I hoot the horn. They both rush outside, Sam with Romy in his arms.

“What the hell ?!”

“I'm going, I'm leaving, I'm going to Romania.”

“It's about time !”, Natasha screams, going back into the house and coming back with her purse, her coat, Sam's and Romy's, along with her baby's seat.

She pushes her husband inside the car, with their daughter and take place in the front seat. I start the car again, following the road to New York. Once at the airport, our little troupe goes to the register desk.

“Hello, I've got those two tickets to Bucharest”, I tell the woman behind the counter. “An adult and a child.”

“Do you have passeports ?”, she asks.

I fumble for the passports in my bag, handing it to her when I find it. We then pass the security. Nat, Romy and Sam couldn't go further.

“Promise that you will call us when you land.”

“I promise.”

“If he hurts you, I'm taking the first plane to kick his royal butt.”

“Last call for the passengers for Bucharest. Last call for the passengers to Bucharest.”

“I promise. I love you, so much.”

“We love you too.”

I take Steve's hand and we pass the doors. The flight is long, but I can't sleep when Steve is quietly snoring in his seat. I'm thinking about what's gonna happen, how Bucky is going to react to Steve and I arriving like this. Yes, becoming the queen of that country terrifies me, as becoming a mother five years ago terrified me, but everything went well.

As soon as we land, I hail a cab at the outside of the airport, asking for the royal palace. The driver leaves us in front of the doorway. Two guards are guarding it. I hand one of them the free pass Bucky let me with the plane tickets and they let us in. I do the same to the guards of the front door. The castle hasn't changed, it's still the same. Leaving our cases their, I take Steve's hand in mine and make him follow me through the hallway, leading us to the throne room. Steve and I step in, Bucky is passing back and forth.

“Daddy !!!”, Steve screams, running to him, his sadness long gone now.

“Stevie !”, Bucky meets him halfway and lifts him into his arms.

I look at them hugging and I can't hold my tears. Tears of joy. Bucky puts Steve down, and runs to me.

“You came.”

“I came. I can't leave without you, and Steve can't leave without you. And I have been stupid and afraid, but I'm not anymore. I love you James. I always have, and I always will.”

“I love you Y/N, I always have and I always will. Will you finally do me the honor of becoming my wife ?”, I just nod as an answer.

With those words, he puts his lips on mine.

After a few administrative procedures, and the legitimization of Steve as the rightful prince and heir, Bucky and I finally get married. The fairy tale has an end after all, and a happy one.

Tag list : @captain-amelia-bradley, @feelmyroarrrr, @amrita31199 , @allandnothing90, @hellomissmabel, @mrs-lamezec, @totheendofthelinepal, @howlingbarnes, @belleetlabeast, @panickedpandaposts, @bovaria, @marvel-ash, @sebbytrash, @crazychick010, @nenyakj, @bionic-buckyb, @callamint, @just-another-fangirl777, @lokid-by-winters-child, @flammy-whater, @learisa, @hello-sweetie-get-the-salt, @mokacoconut, @marvelbase001, @thefiregypsy, @iamthemaskhewears, @bellejeunefillesansmerci, @theycallmebucky, @buckysberrie, @colton-jonas, @amypond14, @youandb, @you-and-bucky, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @buckyandsebsinbin, @kiwi71281, @tequilavet, @iamwarrenspeace, @melconnor2007, @emilyevanston, @buckyappreciationsociety, @mrshopkirk, @poe-also-bucky, @gondorgirl01, @jurassicbarnes, @hollycornish, @summerbummer2001, @abovethesmokestacks, @arawynn

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#howlingb lol august #What I Did For Love #Justine's writings #Prince Bucky #Bucky Barnes x reader #james barnes x reader #James Buchanan Barnes x Reader #Marvel AU #Bucky Barnes AU

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ladymagicandchance · 7 years

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How unfair it is that Christmas gets a love song like that while Valentine’s Day, the holiday for giving your true love gifts, have no songs at all. I’m thinking of Fourteen Days of Valentine.“ Chat Noir begins to woo Ladybug, promising a gift every day leading up to Valentine’s Day…but they don’t see each other every day, right?

Paws Fur Coffee by Zaphirite

He was so sure that Ladybug would already push him off a rooftop if she knew his civilian identity worked at a café called “Paws Fur Coffee” of all names, but his flub on the chalkboard menu just topped it all off. His neat handwriting read back to him: “Chai Noir”. (In which Adrien has some cool drink ideas and gets to know a regular customer) [Cafe College AU]

Nothing is as satisfying as a good romantic reveal

Art Credit to https://nokkiart.tumblr.com/

Drama/Angst

These aren’t too bad because I can’t stand to go through the suspense of intense drama, but still they are all gems

Wingless by spectaclesandbooks

The last person Marinette wants to discover her secret, is of course, the first one who does. But what price will Marinette have to pay to buy Chloe’s silence? And what toll will it take on her and those around her? Namely, one very worried kitty cat… LadyNoir/Marichat, etc. Angst, fluff and all kinds of fun

Chasing the C/h/atwalk by Inkkerfuffle *Aged up, hidden gem

Paris. The city of lights, love and fashion. Follow the progress of Marinette Dupain Cheng as she enters the extremely competitive world of Reality television for a chance to be the winner of Project Runway: France.

I do? by SKayLanphear

Marinette and Adrien are getting married! Unfortunately, Adrien is bothered by the fact that he didn’t invite Ladybug, while Marinette gets cold feet every time Chat Noir flits through her head. A story of mixed up love, rash mistakes, and two oblivious superheroes who should have figured things out a long time ago

My Last Thoughts are of You by SkayLanphear

When a freak accident sends Marinette into critical condition, the only thing she can think about is Chat Noir. She wasn’t going to make it and someone had to tell him. Otherwise, he’d never know what had happened to her–why his lady had never returned. And, as it just so happens, Adrien is there with her near the end, so she decides that he can take the message to Chat just as well as anyone.

On The Prowl by ghostgirl19

“I’ll be fine, Alya. It’s only a couple blocks.“ "But it’s ten at night, it’s not safe. Especially with that Chat Noir prowling around.” AU

Trouble in White by imthepunchlord *I don’t really like akumatizedchat! but this one was good

Finding your soulmate is supposed to be uplifting, and amazing, and just… miraculous. But for Marinette, it wasn’t any of that. Her soulmate, he… he was… What does one do when your soulmate is an akuma?

Curiosity and Satisfaction by imthepunchlord

When Adrien agreed to this line of work, he thought all his focus would be on the job of catching the elusive Lady Luck. It never crossed his mind that someone else would catch his attention. Marichat, Enemy AU

I love Emma Stone…my reaction to anything remotely sad^

Cute Shorts

A Present from Marinette by RicardianScholar Clark-Weasley

As the school year progresses Adrien discovers that Marinette makes everyone a birthday present…everyone but him. Why was he being left out?

Practice Makes Perfect by RicardianScholar Clark-Weasley

When Alya announces there will be kissing games at her party, Marinette freaks out. After all she’s never really kissed someone before. But then when she’s reminded that practice makes perfect…who else is better to practice with other than her partner Chat Noir?

Paw-lov’s Theory by RicardianScholar Clark-Weasley

Ladybug decided to try and condition Chat Noir out of pun habit with kisses! Chat Noir, however, turns the table on her and now Ladybug can’t resist kissing him whenever he puns. Whether or not he’s wearing the mask.

Class Akuma Conspiracy by Krazy Ky-Sta Hatter

There’s a conspiracy afoot in Alya and Nino’s class. Akuma seem to be attracted to them. So far everyone has been possessed. Everyone except Adrien and Marinette, that is. After Alix and Kim start an argument, the class start placing bets on when they will get turned. Alya is not happy about it. She has another theory in mind. And she is going to win that bet, one way or another.

the transitive property of love by l0ngl0st

If A likes B and B is C, then A likes C…right? Wrong. / Adrien and Marinette slowly start putting two and two together. Oneshot.

The Hazard of Being a Baker’s Daughter by SillyUsagi *I have a soft spot for short reveals

One night while on patrol, Adrien notices flour in Ladybug’s hair. When Marinette complains about the flour from her dad’s bakery the next day at school, he starts to get suspicious. (aka “The Flour Reveal Fic”)

Now kiss by Krazy Ky-Sta Hatter* Aged up AU

A year after leaving school, Marinette is living her dream. Never could she have imagined working alongside Adrien and his father, let alone living with them. But with closeness comes clashing, which results in explosive tension and confused emotions. And now with her in front of the camera with Adrien… Oh god. She was doomed.

Little Princess by imthepunchlord

Marinette did the unthinkable. She took the bullet for Chat. And now she’s stuck in his care and poor Adrien doesn’t quite fully know what to do with a kid.

The Reveal That Didn’t by SKayLanphear

Idea by: kittybug:

Me: Okay brain, what new fic ideas do you have for me today? I’m thinking angst.

Brain: Oh, I’ve got a great one! How about Marinette finds out that Adrien is Chat Noir and finally works up the courage to confess her feelings to him. Of course, he doesn’t know she’s Ladybug so he rejects her as kindly as possible. Marinette, in a moment of panic, admits that she’s Ladybug to him but he doesn’t believe her. The next day, Chloe (having overheard the last part of their conversation) starts berating her in front of the whole class for claiming that she’s Ladybug just to win Adrien’s affections.

pt.1

pt.2 Sad ending

pt. 2 Alternative happy ending

Her Smile by Krazy Ky-Sta Hatter

He really, really loves her smile. Marinette leaves little notes for Adrien all the time, and she signs them with a smiley face. He loves that smiley face… only… why is it drawn on a letter from his Lady?

Fermeture by KarmaHope *Must read, my favorite one shot

The hardest part of being a superhero is no longer being a superhero. It’s been five years since Marinette last saw Tikki; since she last saw Chat Noir; and she can’t take it anymore. A reunion/reveal fic.

Halloween Dress-Up by quicksilversquared

When Marinette’s school decides to have a costume contest, she and Alya dress up as Ladybug and Chat Noir. Little do they know how much they’re amusing a certain black cat.

A Gift Fit For A Princess by RicardianScholar Clark-Weasley

Sequel to A Present From Marinette. Marinette’s birthday is coming up and Adrien is freaking out on what to get her. Meanwhile the rest of the class, barring Chloe, are working on the whole serving Adrien up on a silver platter

The Santa Claws Reveal by RicardianScholar Clark-Weasley

When Ladybug asks Chat Noir to help her deliver her Christmas presents, he is surprised to learn that all of Ladybug’s friends are HIS friends too. There is only one conclusion to make from this especially when they don’t deliver a present to a certain Princess that lives in a bakery…

Hand to Hand Combat by RicardianScholar Clark-Weasley

When Kim and Alix get a little competitive again, Adrien and Marinette suddenly find themselves up against one another in an arm-wrestling match…

Handsprings and Aerials by DarkScales

An obstacle course, a fistbump, and revelations. Reveal fic, Fistbumps Verse part one. Pre-series.

Classroom Acrobatics by quicksilversquared

A teacher’s attempt in catching latecomers results in Marinette choosing a somewhat unconventional way to enter the classroom.

The Cutest Delivery Boy by ghostgirl19

Marinette is beyond mortified when Alya requests the pizza place they order from to send their cutest delivery boy. CollegeAU

Going Once, Going Twice by ghostgirl19 *Jealous Adrien

Attention, guests. The time has come for our Date Auction!“ Adrien froze. Date auction?

Commitment by Simply-Arien

It was obvious to anyone within the vicinity of the girl that she had been stood up. / Adrienette AU

The Naked Truth by RicardianScholar Clark-Weasley

Ladybug and Chat Noir end up in the same alleyway as they de-transform which would be totally fine…if it wasn’t for the fact that both Marinette and Adrien had been in the shower mere moments before the Akuma attack.

A Roll of the Dice by ghostgirl19

Alya gives Marinette a set of adult love dice that are guaranteed to give who plays them a fun time. Later that night, Chat Noir suggests to Marinette that they play a game with them to see if they work.

Epiphanies by PFTones3482

Or, how every single member of Marinette and Adrien’s class managed to figure out who Ladybug and Chat Noir were before they could. One-Shot.

I Like You A Latte by Kaorei

Just her luck that she had to get stuck with the annoyingly flirty waiter who won’t stop making cat puns every chance he gets. — Adrien/Marinette, coffeeshop!au.

#hopethishelps #enjoy reading #thistooklongerthaniexpected #miraculousladybug #ladynoir #adrien agreste #ml ladybug #tales of ladybug and cat noir #chat noir #collège françoise dupont #fanfic #miraculous #marichat #ladrien #love #marinette #miraculous ladybug

276 notes · View notes

bananashemmo · 7 years

Text

When We Collide (Part 17)

Pairing: Assistant!Y/N/CEO!Luke

Rating: NC-17

Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

Summary: He is the definition of high class smart ass, swimming in Dom Pierre Pérignon champagne and has never seen the shadow of poverty. She is underprivileged, lives in a messy dorm room on sale and struggles working as an assistant after being thrown out of college. But how will they collide when Luke makes Y/N pregnant after a drunkenly one night stand?

When We Collide on Wattpad

“Are you gonna eat that?”

“No, actually garlic has made me kind of nausea lately-,” Your eyes widened in surprise when the bread on your plate was gone like a light, you didn’t even get the chance to finish your sentence.

“So you can just have it...” You nodded your head in confirm and leaned back on your chair wishing that this ‘blind date’ could be finished as soon as possible.

Could this have been your worst date possible? Maybe. You hadn’t been on that many dates in your life but this one was topping to be one of the worst ones.

You were aware he it was one of Joe’s dear friends, you had met him a couple of times before and he did in fact look good. He also had a nice personality but never in your life had you felt this misplaced.

Tim his name was. Very cute guy, he was around your height and you didn’t mind that because with being constantly surrounded by tall people you felt a little bit out of place. He was also your age which was fine, you had had English classes with him in college but there was something about him that seemed so... Immature.

You had actually known him way back to high school. You had gone to the same school in Maine, at that point he was the typical jock, he had all the girls he needed and most probably had his way with the whole cheerleading squad.

He had the right looks, his eyes were brown like chocolate, they were pretty beautiful. He had curly locks that were shaved on the sides, something everyone concluded as a weakness.

Clothes were also spot on, he was wearing a blazer which you were pretty happy about considering you had your purple dress. You even managed to match because the tie he had around his neck was also a deep shade of purple.

He had even managed to find a pretty decent restaurant. It was in fact one of the most clean ones you had been visiting.

Not that you had any large places on your list of restaurants to visit. You had feared he would take you to some sort of grill where you could get a burger and a couple of fries.

No, this place was something out of the ordinary.

You didn’t understand half that was on the menu, he had to translate a few things here and there but it was okay. You were sure you would be getting something you liked out from his words but this place really liked to go for the garlic and because of the pregnancy you weren’t fan number one.

Your seating was also very nice, it was close to the balcony that had view over the busy streets of New York right by a park that had colorful fountains.

You didn't know how expensive this place was but you couldn’t avoid feeling a little sorry that Tim had decided to pay for everything. Despite being a little bit annoying he was a true gentleman.

But there was something about him that was very weird. He wasn’t anything like you remembered in high school and to be honest you just considered leaving before dessert.

You could almost compare the date to the one from That’s So Raven. He was a hottie but inside he was just... Somehow a huge pile of mess.

“You know garlic is the best thing in the world.” He commented with his mouth full and nodded with a smirk towards your direction.

“You tell me...” You mumbled and leaned back in your seat, just by the smell of it you had almost lost your appetite.

Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea you had ordered so much food in the first place. When seeing the menu your mouth had been watering just by the thought of the dishes but once they were placed in front of you it was a whole different scenario reaction.

Definitely too much garlic.

You had eaten the most of it on your plate though, only a few potatoes filled with sauce and a couple of pears. Safe to say you were definitely full in your stomach but Tim seemed to continue to eat.

It was kind of surprising since you were the pregnant one, eating for two. You still hadn’t gotten any cravings yet, but the nausea was constantly there and it was weird because it came at night instead of the morning like others.

“I think if college doesn’t go the way I plan I’ll end up becoming a baker and only serve garlic breads. Doesn’t it sound cool?” He continued to talk with the huge smirk on his face like he was the most hilarious person in the room.

You decided to just nod your head in agreement. He had, after all, done the most of the talking during the evening.

“How’s it going with you and college? I haven’t seen you around for a while?” He asked after thinking, the garlic bread gone but he most probably would order some more.

“That’s not really a sad thing huh?” You mumbled more to yourself than him.

You remembered the many times you had classes together. Always hitting on you and coming up with the words pick-up lines ever. You weren’t sure if it was because he was thinking they would make you laugh because it was totally the opposite.

“Did you like get kicked out or something?” He asked and turned his head around when a waiter walked past by your table.

“Yes.” You answered in a quick tone, you didn’t expect that he would listen and the reaction he had wasn’t something you were surprised about.

“How cool.” He nodded his head impressed and ran a hand through his hair. You weren’t sure if he was saying it because he in fact meant it or if it was because he was too caught up ordering more bread to listen carefully.

“You don’t say.” You shrugged your shoulder and rolled your eyes. Last time you would ever go on a date with someone who had just asked because he liked the sight of your breasts jumping in P.E during high school.

Grabbing your phone from your pocket you forcefully placed it on your lap under the table and opened it. You didn’t care if he caught you but you were at a fancy restaurant and you didn’t want to look lame.

It was a good thing the tables had white cloths to cover and you sincerely hoped they had some good cleaning detergent because Tim had spilled his sauce at least twice.

You weren’t sure if you were angry or just very frustrated. You quickly opened the group chat you had with both Nicole and Joe to give a little news on what the hell had been going on for the past hour.

“Joe are you insane? You literally let me go on a date with this freak without any heads up? He’s nothing like the guy he was in high school!”

It didn’t take long to get a reply but it was Nicole and she wasn’t careful with her emojis.

“Wait you really went on a date with him? I thought you would just bail on him just like we talked about?”

You laughed quietly by the memory. Nicole wasn’t really the sensitive type as she looked like. She was ready to dump his ass on your behalf but you still had a heart but maybe you should reconsider your decisions from now on.

“You wanted to dump him?? But he’s so into you! I swear he might seem like a freak but he’s one of my good friends and I assure he wants you nothing but the best.”

You rolled your eyes by Joe’s reply, of course he only wanted to see the good side of this. You knew well enough that they shared a lot of the same interests but you could stand Joe. Nothing like you could with Tim.

“He used the freaking table dew to wipe his mouth from sauce! On such a fancy restaurant! Who does that?” You grimaced by the memory and shook your head in disbelief.

“Seems like he’s already got the father role coming... See it as a benefit.” Nicole quickly replied while Joe was typing, you wanted to rip her head off or something by her lame jokes.

“Just stay for the dessert please... From that I promise you won’t have to talk to him ever again... Unless he asks you for a second date.”

“There won’t be a second date.” You replied and rolled your eyes, you didn’t care what he had to say this would be the first and last time you did him a favor like this.

“What is going on over there?” Tim pulled you out of your thoughts and you quickly placed your phone back in your pocket to see what he was talking about.

He looked at you to get your attention and when he got it he looked towards the sudden commotion. It was by the entrance, it was flashing with camera flashings and even if you had no idea what was going on.

You could almost predict it.

“You think it’s someone famous?” Tim asked with wide eyes almost as if he was having a small fangirl inside of him.

“I don’t know.” You bit down on your lip sincerely hoping that it wouldn’t. But of course the camera flashing and blitz were spoiling everything, it definitely was someone that needed to be seen.

“Oh my god! Look! It’s Luke Hemmings!” Tim looked at you with eyes ready to pop out and his jaw almost falling down to his empty plate.

“Of course it is.” You mumbled below your breath and ran a hand through your hair in frustration. You didn’t want to look up, you tried to focus on your plate but you couldn’t avoid it.

Inside came Luke first, sunglasses protecting his eyes from all the camera flashing and in his hand was Holly. She was on the contrary enjoying all the lights, she was smiling to every direction possible and waving her hand.

“Out of all the restaurants they could have visited.” You shook your head in disbelief and tried to focus back on your food.

“Can you believe it? Holly Fitzgerald! I have a poster of her in my wall with white spots-,”

“I don’t want to hear anymore.” You quickly moved your hands up to stop him before he continued. The conversation was getting way out of hand and just the thought of him having a poster of Holly made you gag.

“She is probably the dumbest girl I’ve ever come across in my life.”

“Well duh! That’s why I like her! I have a thing for girls with lack of intelligence. Makes me look like the smarter one.” He explained and you suddenly furrowed your eyebrows confused.

“Is that why you wanted to go on a date-,”

“Shh oh my god they’re coming!” He almost whisper-yelled and leaned back in his seat as if he was trying to act cool, the camera flashing coming closer as Luke and Holly walked past your table.

You sighed deeply and ran a hand through your hair, he didn't notice you but you clearly didn’t mind either. Forget about the dessert. Maybe you could crawl out of the window in the bathroom.

“Isn’t that cool?” He said in almost a cheer and watched them take a seat a few tables away from you by the end of the room.

“Very cool.” You nodded your head deeply impressed and took your glass to drink the last bit of your water.

“Would it be weird if I asked for an autograph?” He asked and you almost smacked your hands on top of the table.

“Yes! It would! If you’re so desperate to get one I can assure you, you will get one on Monday from Joe when classes start! But only if we can just skip the dessert and go straight to the bill now.”

“You can do that?” He asked in pure surprise, his jaw ready to fall down to the plate that was being taken away by one of the waiters.

“Yes!” You said with wide eyes. You were so desperate to leave it couldn’t go fast enough.

“That’s great, Y/N!” He smiled genially and grabbed the arm of one of the waiters, “We’d like the dessert card menu please.”

“Dear god...” You mumbled below your breath and rolled your eyes. You wouldn’t go anywhere until the date was fully over according to him, Tim was close to become a snail on date.

You politely grabbed the dessert menu and barely skimmed it through before you decided to take the first thing on the menu. Tim on the other hand was just as slow as you had predicted. He needed to go through everything and make sure it didn’t contain something he was allergic too.

Which were many things.

You knew you should just ignore them but you couldn’t avoid looking over your shoulder to see where they were seated.

You had heard they were talking about going to a restaurant tonight but you did not expect it would be this one. He had also been the one to book the table himself, normally that was your job.

They were sitting a bit secluded and had their menus in front of them. Or it seemed as Holly was the only one to look because Luke was sitting with his arms crossed watching her with a smile.

“Do you know how long they have been together? Tim asked and caught your attention.

“No why?” When you thought about it you probably should have known in the back of your mind since you had been here from the start. But why did that matter anyways, it was all just fake.

“I wish I had a relationship like them.” He sighed softly and leaned his chin on his hand. He was probably also impatient about his dessert.

“Could we be a couple like them?”

“No.” You replied with force. There was no way possible you would continue this horrible day into a relationship. Never ever in your goddamn life.

He didn’t seem to mind by your respond but he had been like this all evening. He had done the talking and when you said something it was like it was blown into one ear and pulled out of the other.

It was almost a sight of relief when the dessert was finally served, you had gotten a small fruit salad that would be gone before you could blink twice.

On the other hand Tim had managed to order so many plates of whatever cake and goods it would at least be an hour before he could finish this.

How could a boy eat this much? You didn’t understand any of it, you were surprised how little you had been eating compared to him. And it wasn’t like he was some sort of broad boy, he looked pretty decent just like Joe.

It was like waiting for rain to come in the Sahara and just by the thought of that it sounded impossible.

“Sorry,” You apologized deeply and stood up from your seat, “I gotta go to the bathroom.”

He nodded his head politely and watched you wrap your small cardigan around you to leave. You had decided to wear it just so it wasn’t that obvious that you were pregnant.

You had no idea where the toilets were or if you would in fact crawl out of the window but you just needed a break or maybe some sort of fresh air. The place looked clean so you expected the toilet to be the same and you could almost imagine how pale you would look in the face.

“Oh, sorry...” You mumbled carefully when bumping into someone who was standing with their back pressed against the doorframe to the kitchen.

“It’s alright.” He replied back but once you recognize his voice you looked up to see it was Luke. Of course. Who else would it be.

“Y/N?” He questioned just to be sure, not that he couldn’t recognize you he just thought it was weird that you were here. At the same time as him.

“Hello.” You didn’t know what else to say, there was no point in trying to hide or say no. You couldn’t just escape now and it would be too embarrassing if you did.

“What are you doing here-, Oh my god is that the guy you went on a date with?” He changed the subject once noticing where you had been coming from, Time sitting alone at the table but he didn't seem to mind. He had his cakes after all.

“Yes... His name is Tim... Very nice guy if you should ask me.” You nodded your head in agreement. He was a nice guy. Just too weird for your taste.

“That guy must be loaded!” Luke commented with furrowed eyebrows and a suspicious tone.

“Why do you think that?” You questioned and observed his face expression.

“Because this isn’t a cheap place. I know that well enough, it’s my restaurant.”

“It’s-, It’s your restaurant?” You had to repeat yourself just to try and see if you could actually believe his words.

When you thought about it everything screamed Luke. The furniture, the way the place was decorated. It looked like his mansion just in a restaurant style and suddenly it wasn’t such a big surprise.

“Well at least he’s got a great taste then...” You mumbled a bit off, you felt a little weird now that you were here but it also made sense to why Luke was standing in front of the kitchen and keeping an eye on it.

“And because it’s your restaurant... You’ve brought Holly along.”

“Double recognition.” He nodded his head in agreement, pretty impressed by his own idea. He could get the chance to both let people see his restaurant but also get more pictures and stories out with Holly.

“That’s great...” You said with a straight line, “Better than my night would be.”

“Oh my god Y/N?” Holly suddenly came from your behind and you widened your eyes.

“And from that it became a lot worse.” You spoke and looked up at Luke with half irritated eyes but he didn’t seem to mind and pulled Holly close.

“What are you doing here at such a fancy place? You can’t even afford a sock.” She spoke and glanced you up and down just to see what kind of dress you were wearing.

“No Holly that’s right I’m sorry,” You commented with a fake smile, “Should I take your order now that you’re here?”

“Actually yes I’d like-,” Before she could finish her sentence Luke stopped her, “Honey, Y/N is here on a date.”

“Oh really?” She said in surprise. She didn’t feel the least sorry about treating you like some sort of servant and she took a look around the room for him.

“Oh my god... Is he the father?” She suddenly said when she looked over her shoulder to see Tim sit alone.

“No!” You were both quick to respond in unison, and you looked up to see Luke’s eyes be wider than yours.

“Well that’s a good thing.” She said in a quick voice and shrugged her shoulder, “Could you have imagined a child with that nose? One word. Plastic surgery.”

You rolled your eyes by her words and chewed down on your bottom lip. What would be worst? Continue to stand with Holly or go back to Tim that had almost managed to eat everything including your fruit salad.

“Yeah okay...” You barely managed to say anything as you turned around deciding to leave.

Both would be horrible but you didn’t want to continue and stand to hear about more plastic surgeries that she would plan for your baby. It was enough that she invested time to do it on herself she had recently gotten fillers in her lips. They looked worse than the on the TLC programs.

“You know you pee a lot.” Tim commented once you sat back on your seat and you shrugged your shoulder.

“I’ve got a bad bladder.” You didn’t know what else to say, of course it had become worse because of the pregnancy and body changes.

“I’ve got a bladder of steal! It never happens, only when I’m completely wasted and accidentally do it in my bed.” He explained like it was nothing and used the dew again to try remove some of the chocolate.

You didn’t even want to finish your dessert. The way he was looking was inside and you were quick to grab a waiter by the arm to tell that you needed the bill as soon as possible.

“Already over! Man time has flied fast.” Tim commented in wonder and he still had bits of chocolate around his mouth.

“How about we go to my place and watch a movie or something?”

“No thank you.” You mumbled impatiently and looked for the waiter. You barely heard what Tim had to say because it was such nonsense he just needed a piece of tape over his mouth or something.

“Okay fine but I am in fact a gentleman. So do you want the kiss on your cheek or on your lips?” He raised his hands in surrender and you looked at him as if he was in fact kidding.

But he definitely wasn’t.

You looked at him with wide eyes, tempted between doing what you had in mind or not. You had been waiting to pull the card, you didn’t want to do it every time you somehow felt uncomfortable but now you couldn’t handle this anymore.

“I’m pregnant.” You looked at him deadly in the eyes and saw how everything changed in just a second.

“Pre-, Pregnant?” He had to repeat himself you could almost see the sweat drip down from his face.

“Yes you know... You kind of have to do the dirty thing and when the condom that is clearly not used and can’t be used to blame isn’t there you get a baby. Tried that before?” You didn’t care how you were acting now, it was all just a copy from how he had been all night.

“I uh-,” He grabbed his collar nervously and also managed to place his fingers nervously into the rest of his cake, too shook to say anything in full sentences.

You knew just well enough that he would be too immature to handle this properly.

“You know Y/N, the evening’s been lovely,” He still hadn’t cleaned his fingers when he suddenly stood up from his chair and threw his jacket over his shoulder.

“But I gotta go. Fast. Goodbye.”

You didn’t say anything you didn’t even want to protest. He was standing quickly out of the door almost like a shadow. He was that quick you barely saw his reaction when he turned around.

“What an evening.” You mumbled to yourself and grabbed the spoon in your fruit salad.

You didn’t want to eat any of it but you felt it would be weird to just leave now. Also you were feeling completely exhausted, this night had been complete chaos and it was a sad way to end it.

Would it be weird to leave now? Maybe, but you still continued to stay put in your seat and when you glanced over at the bar you happened to notice Luke.

He was sitting with his eyebrows furrowed and coincidentally looked over at you to see Tim being gone. He had a glass in his hand, he was most probably waiting for his food while Holly was out attacking the bathroom with too much bronzer.

You could tell something was on his mind and he wanted to question something so you just shrugged your shoulder. If he put his head together he could realize what you had said and why Tim was so quick to be gone.

“He left, didn’t he?” You looked over your shoulder when Luke had switched from the seat by the bar to stand behind you.

“Luke, this is not the time I don’t need any of your comments about him not wearing enough Gucci for your liking.” You leaned back in your chair and watched him take the small walk around the table to sit in front of you.

“I wasn’t going to say anything.” He admitted and folded his hands together.

You shrugged your shoulder not really knowing what to say. You wanted to go home as fast as possible, if you checked the time you would probably make it with one of the last buses.

“Dates can be brutal... I’ve been on a couple.” He explained and looked up when the waiter placed the small silver platter with the bill on top of it.

“I’ll handle that.” He fished out his wallet and placed it on top of the bill, giving it back to the waiter without a small blink and looked back at you like it was nothing.

“Especially when you don’t know what’s waiting for you. Who you are gonna be set up with, how the evening will go and if it will end just like a one like this. That’s what I hate about dates. They’re unpredictable.”

“Sometimes you have to do it though,” You said and furrowed your eyebrows, “They could change your life.”

“I’m not a believer in that,” He was quick to respond, “I like things a certain way to be in control. Make sure that the evening will go right and well deserved for both parts.”

It didn’t come as a surprise to you, he was in fact always the in control. And he was good at what he was doing.

“So keep me by the word, Y/N.” He stood up from his chair with the drink emptied and a smile on his face.

“Let me promise you a real date once. Just to see how it’s really done.”

You quivered an eyebrow by his words but couldn’t avoid nodding your head in agreement. You wanted to see what he could fish out of his pockets and with that smile on his face it was hard not to do it yourself.

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