my bank account is your bank account
synopsis: you didn't use his card to pay
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
He worked hard to be a cardiac surgeon just to treat your heart condition—what makes you think his money is where he draws the line? He’d just finished his second surgery today, a CABG that took 6 hours, and the first thing he sees on his phone is a text message from you.
“Hey, Zayne. Do you prefer spicy or not spicy soup? I’m at the store to buy the ingredients!”
He smiles, already imagining you waiting for him while cooking.
He replies, “Spicy is fine, I placed my card on the back of your phone. Be safe.”
Just as he placed the phone down, it beeps again from your text.
“It’s fine, I bought my card with me. And it’s just groceries, I can handle it.”
His brow furrows as he noisily types to call your phone, “I gave it to you with the intention that you’ll use it whenever you need. It doesn’t matter if it’s just groceri—”
“Okay! Okay, I’ll use it, alright? Since you insist, I’m buying these expensive lotions I’d been eyeing on.”
He sighs, “If you’re gonna buy those lotions, the least you can do is buy me those hard candy, that blueberry cheesecake we always buy, and those lollipo—”
“I’m getting you ONE pack of candies.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
This man would be crashing out if he can’t provide for you. He even gets upset when you don’t need his help in getting things from the top shelf. Here he was with a smug smile on his face while handing you his card,
“Use it whenever you need to, pips. Rest assured it won’t ever maxed out.”
That smirk was so irritating that you wanted to wipe it off his face.
“Mhm? Why do I need to? I get payed just fine! And it’s not like other people don’t pay for me.”
God, that dumbfounded look was just so satisfying to see. Of course, with Caleb paying for whatever you need almost all his life, you weren’t gonna turn down his offer.
He flicks your forehead, “You don’t even need other people’s money. And they don’t treat you always! Just use mine and you can use it endlessly.”
He’s looking at you with his signature puppy eyes and you know you just lost.
Sighing, you take his card, “Fine, and I better not hear any complaints from you.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
You knew this man doesn’t care even if you spent billions of his money—he literally let you spend more than 10 million a few days after you met. It’s not like you had a problem with spending his money (you don’t); it’s just nice to tease him every now and then, even if it backfires on you most of the time.
You were in the middle of a date when you decided to mess with him.
“Sy, does it taste good?”
He hums, “It tastes quite nice. You always pick the right places, sweetie.”
You smile, “Of course! Since I’m paying, it should be worth it.”
He freezes mid-bite and places his spoon down, “Are you now? If I may say, the soup was quite salty, the pasta lacked flavor, and the tiramisu was just an abomination.”
You smack his arm, “Hey! You said it was nice!”
He smirks, “I’ll pay for it, sweetie, since it wasn’t worth it,” already reaching for his wallet.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“Baby, do you think this looks nice?” You gave your phone to Rafayel so he can see the sweater that you wanted. He shrugs, “It’s cute, perfect for rainy days.” You smile, proceeding to check out the sweater, “It’s 115 dollars, it’ll be delivered by next week!” He slowly turns his head, “Next week?" “Yeah!”
He slowly walks toward you and grabs you by the shoulders, “Cutie, did you already pay for it?”
You nod, “Yeah, why? Did you want one too?”
His shoulders slumped as he dramatically flings his arm around, “What?! Since when did you pay for your things? I’m transferring that money to your card.”
You lightly punch his shoulder, “Ayel! There’s no need, I have my own money.”
He raises his eyebrow, “And? I’m still wiring you that money.”
You try to argue, but he’s already tip-tapping away on his phone.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“Xavi, what do you want for dinner?” You climbed on the couch and laid on his lap while fumbling on your phone. He shrugs, “Anything is fine.” You poke his cheek, “I’m too lazy to cook, do you want takeout?” He ponders for a moment, “Takeout is fine, I can cook too.” He says, already standing up to head to the kitchen when you quickly sit up, “Takeout it is!”
“How much is it?” He grabs your hand to play with the sleeves of your sweater. “It’s fine, I already payed for it!” His hand stops, and he slowly looks at you. His brows furrow and his lips form into a pout, without saying anything, he smooshes your face in his hands. “Don’t.”
He smiles. “Don’t do that again."
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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