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maeshoneyles · 3 days ago

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pairing: alexia putellas x reader

wc: 3.1k

tags: 18+!!!! smut, sugar mommy alexia, mafia alexia, fingering (r receiving), mirror sex, cunnilingus (r receiving), alexia grinding on r, dirty talk, jealousy, possessiveness but the good kind, alexia threatens a guy, aftercare and fluff at the end

a/n: i love a good sugar mommy alexia dynamic and the mafia just adds the perfect touch to me lol hope you enjoy!

The restaurant felt like somewhere the characters from Succession would eat, which honestly probably wasn’t too far off. Alexia was across the small table, eyes darting across a wine menu like she was deciphering some ancient cipher instead. Her brow had certain quirk to it, her forehead wrinkled just so as she read through the list of foreign reds and whites. The soft candlelight only accentuated her soft features as you sat there, staring, unabashedly, like nothing else in the world mattered. At that moment, it didn’t.

“Where did you say we were going after this, baby?”

“An event.” She said quickly, not looking up from the list.

“Do I get any more detail than that?” you said, batting your eyelashes in that way that always pissed Alexia off. Of course, it only made her mad because it made her melt for you.

“Stop that, and no. I told you everything you need to know.”

“All you said was to stay as close to you as possible, stay quiet, and look pretty.”

“Exactly, that is all you need to know.”

You sat back in your seat with a sigh and continued watching. The fabric of your dress was tight, but not too tight. The shoes were silver, and you honestly could not remember if this was a pair studded with real diamonds or not. You had too many too keep track. The necklace, though, those were definitely real. You remember Alexia coming home with the box on a random Wednesday a few months ago, almost giving you a heart attack in the living room when you saw the exquisite piece.

Alexia ordered the wine and the food, as usual. She liked to do everything short of actually chewing your food for you like a mama bird. And honestly, you wouldn’t put it past her.

You really had no idea what you ate—there was no point wasting energy on even looking at the menu when Alexia decided everything. Not that you minded, of course. One less decision for you to make. You told her about your day, your internship, your coworker who had bought you coffee twice this week, and yeah, had you brought that up just to see her jaw clench and her pupils dilate? Maybe. “Princesa, you know you don’t have to work that silly job, right? If this man is bothering you…”

“Yes baby, I know. You’ve told me a million times. But I want to, okay? I would go crazy sitting at home all day waiting for you. And I promise he is not a big deal. He doesn’t matter. Don’t do anything stupid on his account, ‘kay?”

“Mmm…I make no promises when it comes to you.”

“Ale…” You smirked. Alexia flashed back her wolfish smile that never failed to make you squirm in your seat. God this meeting or event or whatever better not take too long. Maybe I can convince her to leave early.

Dinner was comfortable and quick, just the precursor to the rest of the evening.

“Come, the car is outside,” Alexia’s hand found it’s place at the small of your back, leading you through the dimly-lit restaurant, out into the crisp night air, and into the back of the unassuming black car she had hired. You couldn’t remember the last time you had driven anywhere. Would you even remember how if given the opportunity? You didn’t waste too much time on the thought, brought back to reality quickly by Alexia’s hand squeezing your thigh. “Remember princesa, stay close and quiet. Don’t move out of my sight. Let everyone drool over you and make sure they know who you go home with,” she husked.

“Is that it? I’m here so you can show me off on your arm and make these assholes jealous?” you smirked.

Alexia gave me an unimpressed look and sighed. “Don’t- I’m not-”

I chuckled, shutting her up with a kiss. “Shut up. I love when you show me off, I love being your trophy”

“I don’t want you to think that’s all I see you as.”

“Ale, I know. You love me,” you smirked, lips just millimeters from hers.

“Brat.”

“You loveee me,” you sing-songed, playfully pecking her lips over and over again, your lipstick tinting her lips in a soft pink that just made you want to keep going and going.

The black car pulled up to what looked to be some kind of event center or hotel, again, you couldn’t bother yourself with the details when you knew Alexia would take care of everything.

The security guard escorted us in, not hesitating to lower his head in respect when he saw Alexia. You clocked her facial expression as you both strutted into the event, the subtle changes to her posture, her eyes darkening, her jaw clenching in the same way it did earlier. You felt her energy shift from the car to now; this was no longer your Ale, your wife, your love. No, this was Alexia Putellas. This was La Reina. Everyone knew not to mess with her or they should face the consequences. You were grateful to be on her arm and not a face in the crowd. Even in a room of potential danger, you felt as safe as you could by her side.

The next several hours were a blur of Alexia talking to various associates about god-knows-what. Honestly, you were just focused on her. The feeling that was buzzing underneath your skin, combined with the several drinks Alexia had gotten you from the bar, was begging to get out of that stuffy room and back home. “Ale,” you whispered in between conversations.

“Yes, carinyo?”

“How much longer do we have to stay?” You batted your eyelashes, giving your best pouty look that you knew she could never resist.

You saw the mask slip, her tough exterior fade for just a moment. “Not long, I promise. Stop it with the eyes, brat.”

I smirked in victory and leaned my head onto her shoulder as she led us away to another man she needed to converse with. Only a short while later, I felt an unfamiliar touch on my shoulder. Flinching further into Alexia, I looked up to see a man in a suit looking down at me with hungry eyes. “Quién es esta linda chica, Putellas?” he said, his voice slimy and sending shivers down my spine.

“Aléjate de ella antes de que te corte la garganta, Javier,” Alexia said, low and full of anger. She tugged you closer to her.

“Veo que la reina tiene una mascota ahora?”

Alexia took a deep breath before speaking again. “Podría matarte aquí mismo, y nadie vendría corriendo a por ti. Cuida tus palabras.”

Your Spanish wasn’t perfect, far from it, but you knew enough to know the gist of what was going on. And you weren’t sure you wanted to hear the specifics of how she was threatening that man, anyway. Once she was done her threat, she dragged both of you away to the entrance, already on the phone with the driver, making demands in rapid Catalan.

You didn’t dare speak until the driver safely deposited us at Alexia’s house. “Are you okay, Ale?” you said softly, almost worried she would explode again.

“Yes, princesa. I despise those men, every one of them. Even the thought that one of them would make you uncomfortable, let alone touch you, fills me with rage. I needed to leave before I did something I would regret doing in front of you.”

You clocked her choice of words immediately. In front of you. She would have killed that man like he was an ant in the blink of an eye if you were not watching, you were sure of it. The thought that she was willing to do such a thing in the name of protecting you filled you with heat.

“I’m okay, baby, I promise. Thank you for protecting me. I loved seeing you in your element tonight, by the way.”

“Yeah? You liked that? Liked seeing me boss everyone else around for a change? Not just you?” Alexia’s hands were all over you, running over the smooth silk of your dress.

“Mhm…loved seeing everyone scared of you..” Alexia’s lips were barely a breath away from yours, ghosting over them to tease you.

“Everyone there was staring at you, mi vida. I could tell. They all wanted you. But you come home with me? Don’t you?” she whispered against your skin.

“Y-yes…’m yours..” Alexia’s smirk came back, stopping for a moment before her grip on your waist tightened and her lips moved to attack your neck. “Fuck, Ale. Mark me, please.”

Alexia groaned against your neck as she sucked a bruise to the spot below your ear that made you squirm in her hold.

“Ale, please. Please- bed,” you moaned out after what felt like a lifetime of Alexia biting and sucking at your neck and collarbones.

“What? Your little pussy can’t handle a little kissing? You need more of me?”

“Y-yes! Yes baby, I need more.”

Without a word, Alexia scooped me into her arms and carried me into the large master bedroom, placing you down in front of the dresser and large mirror that sat on top of it. Alexia stood behind you and softly kissed the back of your neck as she took off your jewelry. Her large hands ran down the back of your legs as she knelt down to undo the buckles of your heels. Her fingers grasped the zipper at the top of the dress and paused. “Keep your eyes on the mirror, princesa.”

You whimpered softly, bracing yourself on the dresser with my forearms as Alexia freed your body from the sleeveless black silk. The dress puddled around your ankles on the hardwood floor, leaving you in nothing but the red lace panties Alexia had picked out for you hours ago. “Every time I am amazed at how beautiful you are, darling. So perfect, and all mine.”

“Yours.” You gasped out at Alexia’s hands began wandering, wrapping around your front to softly knead your breasts. She dragged her fingertips lightly around your nipples, the feather-light touch on the hardened buds making you squirm. You watched her hands work like magic against your body in the mirror. You could feel you wetness gathering between your thighs, desperation growing. You were always desperate for Alexia, but how could you blame yourself?

You resisted. Resisted the urge to let you head fall forward and eyes flutter closed in ecstasy. Resisted the urge to push your hips back into Alexia’s, silently begging. Resisted the urge to slip your own hand between your legs and get some kind of relief.

“All this,” she spoke in your ear as she lazily dragged her hands around your chest, back, stomach, and thighs, “is mine.”

“Yes..yes it’s yours. All yours. Alexia please.”

“Do you need more, carinyo?”

“Yes. Please.”

Her hands drifted down to your hips and toyed with the waistband of your panties for what felt like an eternity. You squirmed and whined, dropping your head to hang between your arms, the feeling of need becoming close to too much. You immediately felt one of Alexia’s hands snap up and tangle itself in your hair, yanking hard forcing your head back up, forcing you to make eye contact with yourself. The sharp prickles of pain from your scalp sent sparks straight to your core. You moaned, and Alexia tightened her grip.

“If you want me to touch you, watch. I won’t ask again.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Ale please.”

“Shhh…I’m gonna take care of you. Just keep those pretty eyes up there.” You managed a nod and a whine as her hands released your hair and returned to your hips, one of them snaking around to feel through the thin fabric convering your pussy. She hummed in satisfaction at the wetness she found there. “What is this, princesa? All for me, hm?”

At this point you didn’t have words, turned on beyond belief and using every ounce of self-control to keep your eyes where she wanted them. Another sharp tung on your hair had you gasping into the suddenly too-hot air of your bedroom. “Words, mi vida.”

“Y-yes! Yes, it’s all for you Alexia!” you choked out. She took her time, gliding her fingertips through your silky folds like she was mapping them out in her mind even though you both knew she already had it memorized like the back of her own hand. The rough pad of her thumb made sudden, rough contact with your clit, causing you to gasp and buck your hips back towards the source of your pleasure. Your high was building quickly, the tension coiling in your lower stomach and threatening to break in what should be considered an embarrassingly short amount of time. “A-Ale..Ale I’m gonna-”

“Not until I give you permission, remember?” You glanced behind you in the mirror to see Alexia’s biting smirk looking down at you. You whimpered but nodded your head, biting your tongue until you tasted copper to try and starve off the climax begging to overtake your body. The visual stimulation of seeing yourself, seeing the desperation and pleasure in your eyes as Alexia played your body like she was in an orchestra kept you dangerously close to the edge. Alexia’s thumb slowed it’s circles around your clit and her middle and index finger were inside you before you could even whine in protest. “I love feeling you squeeze around me carinyo. Who’s pussy is this? Hm?”

“Y-yours! Yours, yours, yours!”

The uncontrollable facial expressions you watched yourself make were downright sinful. Alexia’s words, low and husked and laced with the Catalan accent that made you weak in the knees in a normal atmosphere, only added to the growing mess between your legs when combined with the current context.

“That’s it, baby. Watch yourself fall apart. Watch how you give yourself to me. God, you look so perfect like this, don’t you think? I should just keep you like all the time, dripping and begging for me. Would you like that? My perfect, slutty, little toy for whenever I want?”

All you could do was whimper and nod as Alexia’s talented fingers hammered against all of your most sensitive spots.

“Alexia-! I need- needa’..please” you babbled incoherent nonsense as Alexia pushed you just to edge and kept you dangled there for what seemed like decades. Tears filled your eyes, falling down your flushed cheeks as you blinked them out to regain your vision.

“Don’t you dare take your eyes off the mirror. Watch your perfect eyes when you come for me,” Alexia hissed against the shell of your ear, attacking your neck in bites as she finally pushed you over the edge. The sounds that ripped from your throat were completely feral and animalistic. Alexia continued her movements, not stopping until you were writhing from the overstimulation. Your head dropped onto the dresser as you attempted to catch your breath. But Alexia, obviously, was not done. Her strong hands wrapped around your hips and dragged you over the bed, laying you down and knocking your legs open. You swore you could see her mouth watering, even through your post-orgasm haze that hadn’t even begun to fade, your heart still racing and your skin covered in a thin layer of sweat.

“So good for me, watching yourself like that, coming so hard for me. Let me clean my girl up, and then you can help me out, okay?” You only nodded and took a deep breath. Alexia’s soft lips kissed your pussy, still sensitive and slightly raw from before. “I’ll be gentle, I promise,” you could feel the smirk against your skin and knew she wasn’t being entirely truthful, but you couldn’t find it to mind.

Alexia lapped gently at the arousal pooled in your folds, drinking it up like she had been craving it for weeks. She focused the tip of her tongue on your clit, eliciting a gasp from you and your hips to buck up. Not one to allow you any kind of control, she tossed your legs over her shoulders and linked her fingers over your stomach, effectively trapping you exactly where she wanted you.

She alternated between sucking on your clit, fucking you with her tongue, and flattening her tongue against your folds, slowly building your arousal again until you were a shaking mess beneath her. “Ale-!”

“Shh, you’ve been good tonight. Come when you feel it.”

“Mmm- thank you thank you-“

You babbled out thanks and nonsense as another wave of your arousal flooded her mouth. She drank it up with no complaint and moved up to kiss you, your slick still coating her mouth and chin. You moaned, tasting yourself on her.

She slid her hips up until her bare cunt was rested against your abdomen. She used your gasp as an opportunity to slide her tongue into your mouth as she grinded her soaked pussy along your abdominal muscles. You loved being used by her like this, even after two orgasms it sent sparks straight to your core.

Unsurprisingly, Alexia came fast after getting to toy with you for so long. She collapsed onto the sheets beside you, fingers coming up to trail imaginary paths along your side. “You okay, amor?”

“More than okay,” you hummed, turning you body to tuck your face into her neck and cuddle into her side.

“Good. You want a bath?”

“Only if you get in with me.”

“Brat. Deal..” Alexia smirked and moved gingerly up from the bed, taking your hand and supporting most of your weight on the way to the bathroom. She ran the bath with the utmost care, triple-checking the water temperature and that she had the scent that you preferred in the soap. Although you really didn’t care about all that, as long as you were in a warm bath, back pressed against Alexia’s chest, you would be content.

You sighed in satisfaction at the feeling of the hot water on your over exerted muscles. Alexia slid in behind you, carefully holding you against her chest with her strong arms. Your head leaned back to her shoulder and her lips pressed against your temple gently.

After some time soaking in the bathtub, Alexia spoke, her voice miles away from the confident and powerful woman that had stepped into the event hours ago or fucked you to tears just minutes ago. “I’m sorry that man made you uncomfortable. I should have been keeping a better eye on you, and on everyone else.”

“Not your fault Ale, it’s okay. Don’t tell me what you said to him after though, okay?”

“That was the plan mi vida. I love you.”

“I love you more. Every version of you.”

#lesbian #wlw #lesbians of tumblr #woso smut #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia x reader #fc barca #barca femeni #woso community #woso fanfics #woso #woso imagine #alexia putellas smut

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cryptic-doe · 3 days ago

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𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝗺𝗲 ❦

wc: 4,164

summary: life changes and more feelings arise, but that doesn't change you and sam

warnings: cursing, smut (mdni), heavy make out, dry humping, coming in pants, sub sam, just horny and in love teens

when you woke the next morning, sam was still asleep beside you. your thoughts drifted to his quiet admission of love to you last night, but you didn’t dwell on it for too long. fear that if you did, or even worse, asked him about it, it would only scare him away again. so, instead, you admired him as he slept, taking in all of him. he was so… beautiful. there was no other way for you to describe it, it was just a simple fact. he may have been as large as a moose, but he had the grace and beauty of a deer. you remembered that’s what you compared him to when you first met him. eyes as large and wide as a baby deer. it seems that aging a couple years didn’t take that from him. you hoped it never would. your eyes then dropped down to his lips that are slightly parted, soft breaths falling between them. while sam was gone, you never kissed another boy. didn’t let another boy touch you. to be fair, sam never touched you, either. at least, not the way you wanted him to. slowly, sam began to shift around in your bed, stirring awake. his head turned towards you, searching for your eyes. “good morning,” he said, voice laced with sleep. “morning,” you replied in a whisper. he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, trying his best to stretch in your small bed. “what do you wanna do today? celebrate your birthday early?” he questioned, pulling you closer. “today…? what about your dad? don’t you have to go back to him with dean?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed.

the boy just shrugged, as if not worried about the situation. “dean already knows about me staying with you for the day. besides, my dad doesn’t matter right now, bug. today’s all about you,” he said simply. “but-” you began, but he cut you off with a finger pressed against your lips. “no ‘buts’, okay? lemme do this for you. i wanna have at least today with you. and if he gets mad, fuck him.” his words make you smile, so similar to the ones marie had said to you all those months ago. his hazel eyes dance across your face, watching as you smile. “you’re so beautiful, you know that?” he muttered. you blush, hiding your head in his chest. “shut up.”

he laughs softly, running his fingers through your hair. “no, i’m serious. i didn’t think it was even possible, considering how pretty you looked when we were younger.” if you had told your fourteen year old self that sam winchester would be in her bed, complimenting her, and holding her close, she definitely would’ve looked at you like you were insane. you stayed close to his chest, breathing him in. he smelled like cinnamon and cedarwood, with just a hint of gunpowder. he tapped you on the shoulder. “c’mon, pretty girl. let’s go get some breakfast, yeah?” you nodded and sat up on your bed, stretching your limbs as he pulled you to stand.

he didn’t let go of your hand while the two of you walked down the stairs and to the kitchen. bobby sat at the table eyeing the two of you, but mostly sam. “you want cereal, bug?” sam asked. you just nodded, not straying far from him.

“you two didn’t do anything up there last night, did ya?” bobby suddenly asked. your eyes widened at his question, and sam nearly dropped the carton of milk. “bobby!” you exclaimed, but the older man just shrugged. “no, we went to you with a stern, but soft look in his eyes. “you doing okay?” he mouthed. you nodded, sending him a soft smile. “i’m okay. promise.”

you could tell he was still a bit wary, but some of his tension melted away. sam placed the cereal bowl in front of you, taking the seat beside you. bobby turned his attention from you to sam, sending him that stern, fatherly look. “i wanna talk to you, boy,” he said, standing up from his seat. sam knew better than to try and argue, so he stood and followed bobby out to the living room. they were just far enough that you couldn't hear much of their conversation.

“i could slap you upside your head, boy,” bobby muttered at sam. despite sam being over a head taller than the man, he felt like a little kid being scolded, again. “i can't believe that stunt you pulled. leaving her for nearly a whole damn year?”

“yeah, i… i know, bobby. i’m sorry,” sam said.

“what could have even possessed you to do something like that?”

sam then explained what he told you the night before. everything having to do with his dad, and him not allowing sam to call you anymore. by the end, bobby couldn’t wait until he would see the winchester father face to face to share some words. “if that ever happens again, sam, you call me. understand that? without you… she nearly lost herself. i can't see her like that again.”

sam nodded, jaw set and firm. “it won’t, bobby, i promise.”

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ ʚଓ་༘࿐

after breakfast, sam told you to get yourself ready. when you asked why, he just kissed your cheek and said that it was a surprise. you thumbed through all the clothes in your closet twice. nothing seemed to really call your name. until your eyes landed on the brown dress you bought last year. you hit a growth spurt since then, so you weren’t even sure if it would still fit you, but it wouldn’t hurt to try.

it fell just above your knees, so you slipped on a pair of low rise jeans under it. you recently saw on tv that it was the new fashion trend. you then quickly curled your hair and put on some mascara before grabbing your messenger bag and slipping on your converse. when you walked down the stairs, sam’s back was turned towards you, and you could see that he was wearing an old suit that bobby must've given him. bobby was muttering something about a “stupid tie” and how he “hasn’t done this in years. the sight caused you to stifle a small giggle, which made sam’s head turn towards you.

“wow…” he whispered, eyes wide as he watched you walk down the stairs. you blushed, ducking your head. he bent his head, trying to catch your eyes. “you ready to go?” you nodded. he headed towards the front door, opening it for you. before you followed, you turned to bobby, hugging him. he hugged you back, before pulling you away to look at you. “just like your mom. so beautiful.”

he pressed a kiss to your temple while squeezing your shoulders. “you have fun today, alright?”

“i will,” you promised, before stepping out with sam.

when you showed sam where your car was, he let out a small laugh. “just like dean, huh? you and your muscle cars. you shrugged, tossing him your keys. “they're badass.” he just shook his head and opened the passenger door for you. once you were inside, he hopped into the driver’s side. while he was adjusting everything, a small photo fell from the visor. he picked it up to read the date on the back. may 2nd, 1999. when he turned it over, it was faded picture of you and sam from his sixteenth birthday. even though it was only last year, it felt like the both of you had changed so much. grew older, looked different, matured, everything.

“i always kept it with me,” you admitted in a small whisper. “it’s the only picture i had with the two of us in it.”

“well, guess we’ll have to take a few more, huh?” he looked over at you with a smile.

“i guess so.” you smiled back at him. it was the most you had smiled in a while.

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ ʚଓ་༘࿐

sam took you to a town about an hour away, assuring you he didn’t mind the drive. most of the drive was filled with the two of you talking about anything and everything. he told you how john was becoming angrier by the day, and drinking more by the night. you squeezed the hand he kept glued to your thigh in understanding. he also told you about all the different high schools he and dean had been to. you liked those stories the most. it was interesting to learn what a high school was like and the typical high school experiences from someone else and not from books or television. when he asked you about your schooling, you told him how you had finished earlier this year and he gently squeezed your thigh. “that’s amazing, bug! are you gonna go to college?” he asked, turning to look at you and then back at the road. “probably not,” you said. “i like staying at home and doing research on the monsters.” he nodded his head, but his eyes shifted and his body became tense, like there was something he was keeping to himself. “what about you?” you questioned. “do you plan on going to college after this year?”

he hesitated for a second, but then nodded his head. “uh, yeah, i’ve been looking into it. all my counselors and teachers say i could get into a really good school if i wanted to. but dean and my dad don’t know. they- they can’t know.”

“hey,” you said gently, grabbing his hand to hold it, “it’ll be between us. and, i’m happy for you. if you do decide to go.”

he opened his mouth to argue, but you silenced him. “sam, i’m serious. if going to college is what you want, then you should go. besides, they got really fancy computers there. i’m sure we can do video calls or something.” he laughed softly, deciding to drop it for now, even though he wanted to do anything but. he wasn’t gonna ruin your special day.

and just like he promised, the day was all about you. he took you to a record shop, buying you all the records you had chosen. he even attempted to buy all the ones you just touched, and you had to practically pry them away from him. “nothing is too much for you, pretty girl,” he tried to argue, but you ended up winning that argument. he then took you to a bookstore where you spent most of your time. following you around like a lost puppy, while he silently held all your books in his hands. afterwards, he took you to a small diner, ordering some food, and a large chocolate milkshake to share. the two of you silently ate your food, until he spoke up. “i don’t know if i told you, but i really like your dress. it’s pretty on you.”

“thanks,” you muttered shyly. “i actually bought it for my sixteenth birthday. i thought it matched… it reminded me of you. that’s why i bought.” he looked at you with that sad puppy gaze, sliding his hand across the table to grab yours. “i’m sorry, again. i should’ve been there for your sixteenth like you were there for mine.”

you squeezed his hand tighter, shaking off his apologies. “it’s okay, sam, really. you’re here now.” that’s all that matters.

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ ʚଓ་༘࿐

it’s already dark outside when you and sam get back to your house. bobby seems to already be fast asleep, as there’s no lights on. sam carries all your bags as you pull out your house key from your purse. he brings them all the way up to your room, laying them on your bed. he turns towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you close. “i had a really fun time with you today,” he whispered.

“i did too. thank you for all of this.”

“you deserve it, bug. all of it and more.” he swallows, taking a deep breath. “i’m sorry i have to leave tonight. i wanted to spend more time with you.”

“it’s okay, sammy. i understand, really. all of this was more than enough for me,” you assured, squeezing his biceps.

“then let me leave you with one more thing, okay?” he offered. you nodded as he started leaning down to kiss your lips. the kiss was sweet and slow, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he slowly began to kiss you with more passion. your hands trailed up his arms to hold the sides of his neck, feeling the smooth skin beneath your palms. you could feel him straining as if he was trying to hold himself back. you pull back just enough to talk, and he chases after your lips. “don’t,” you whispered.

“don’t what?” he asked, chest heaving.

“don't hold back.”

and those were all the words he needed. when he dove back in, it was more passion filled. as he kissed you, he walked you over to your bed until your knees hit the back of your frame. without breaking the kiss, you wrapped your fingers around the lapel of his jacket, tugging him onto the bed with you. you pulled away again, pushing at his jacket.

“off,” you commanded, and he immediately followed. he struggled to pull it off, but once he did, he threw it somewhere behind him.

he then dropped his head to your shoulder, pressing a small kiss to the junction of your neck. he then pressed another right under your ear, and then lightly kissed down your jaw. you tilted your head back, giving him more access. he gently bit down on the side of your neck, before licking the mark. you let out a moan at the unexpected feeling and slapped a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself. you could feel how the sound affected him as his bulge grew against the inside of your thigh. and you may have been inexperienced, but shit, did he feel big.

your hips uncontrollably jolt against his, and your core presses against his cock. the sensation of the pressure and clothing between you make you both shiver and moan. you grab ahold of his chin, and move his head up to kiss him. his hands hold up his weight and find their place beside the sides of your head. your nails drag down the sides of his neck, not enough to make him bleed, but enough to leave a mark. and sam winchester fucking whimpers when you do so.

the sound acts like a key to unlocking something inside you, as you wrap your legs around his hips, flipping him over. the kiss doesn’t stop once, and sam could’ve come from how assertive you seemed. the confidence then fell, causing you to pull away and breathe. “i’ve never… i’m a virgin,” you blurted.

“i am too,” he responded. “we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

you shook your head. “no, no, i want to. i just… i don’t think i can go all the way.”

“that’s okay, pretty girl, that’s okay,” he assured. “here, let’s do this.” you slid off of him, watching as he moved up to sit against your head. he gestured for you to come closer, and you did, sitting down on his lap. his hands found their place on your waist. “this okay?” he asked, and you nodded.

when you began to kiss again, your hips slowly grinded down onto his bulge, making him moan into your mouth. the room feels warmer and it makes your clothes stick to your skin. a warm and buzzing feeling begins to grow in your belly, making your toes curl. you pulled back, looking him in the eyes. “i-i think i’m close,” you muttered.

“me too,” he huffed. he dropped his head to your neck, and you could feel his hot breath fanning against your skin. he let out a small mewl when you grinded harder against him. “god, y/n, i love you. i love you so fucking much.”

those words were all that you seemingly needed when you could feel the coil snap inside you, biting down hard on your bottom lip to quiet your moaning. sam followed shortly after, as he slowly grew limp against you. his bangs stuck to his forehead from all the sweat gathering there, and you pushed them back. his met yours and they seemed even softer than before. he looked at you like you hung the moon stars. like you were the answer to every question he ever had. like… like you were the love of his life.

“i love you too,” you admitted. “i think i’ve loved you ever since i met you.”

he smiled at that, holding the back of your neck to pull you down, and press your forehead against his. “me too, bug.”

“so… does this mean we’re boyfriend and girlfriend?” you asked softly.

“i think so,” he replied. “do you want us to be.”

“i’d like that a lot, baby.” the nickname falls from your lips accidentally, yet feels like it should’ve been there all along. it makes sam feel all tingly inside and he leans up to kiss you again when he hears a car horn beep twice.

you could feel your heart drop at the sound, knowing his visit was over. “i’ll walk you out,” you whispered, and he just solemnly nodded.

you bent down to grab his jacket, and slipped it on him. then fixing his tie and hair to make him look presentable. he does the same for you, combing his fingers through your hair. the walk down the hallway and stairs is silent. not out of guilt or regret, but in contentment. the acts committed changed everything, yet nothing at all. you guys didn't go all the way, yeah, but this was still something that the two of you shared and would treasure. once outside, you could see that it was only dean in the car, which you were grateful for.

you wouldn't want john to see sam like this, and you don’t think you could control your emotions if you ever faced the man. “give me one second,” you said, before walking in the house to grab a marker. you walked back over to him and grabbed his hand, writing your number on it. “there. that way you can text me when you miss me.”

he hugged you, holding you tight to his chest. “i love you, pretty girl,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. he reluctantly pulled away, looking at you longingly as he began to walk away.

“baby, wait,” you called out. he turned around. “yeah?”

you grabbed his hand and pulled him in for a real kiss. “i love you, too,” you said once you pulled away. “and stay safe.” he squeezed your hand three times. “i always do, pretty girl.”

you watched as he walked away from you, waving at him as he slipped into the passenger seat of the impala. you didn’t head back into the house until the car was completely out of sight, the only remnants left behind was the dust it kicked up. walking back up the stairs, it didn’t feel heavy like the last time he left. this time was different.

you didn’t even change out of your old clothes when you laid down on your bed. the room smelled of sam, and it calmed you down, already pulling you into sleep when a buzz came from your phone. rolling over, you grabbed it from your nightstand and opened the message. it was from an unknown number, but you knew exactly who it was.

“i miss you already, pretty girl :(”

you smiled as you texted back, “i miss you too, baby”

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ ʚଓ་༘࿐

as the year passes by, sam keeps his promise. he video calls you on your birthday, and blows out a candle on a cupcake that he bought for the occasion. after that, he calls and texts you almost every single day. sometimes it’s long conversations, while other times it’s just a simple ‘good morning’ and ‘good night.’ it doesn’t have to be a grand gesture, you just have to know that he’s still *here* and that he cares. when the old nightmares haunt you, you don’t have to deal with them alone. you can just call sam. it doesn’t matter what time it is, because he’ll pick up everytime.

he visited on his eighteenth birthday with dean, but it’s only for a few hours. it didn’t matter to you, though. because it was the first time you saw him since early october. you gift him another book for his birthday. this time, it’s an annotated book of frankenstein. “it’s my favorite, so i wanted you to carry a piece of me everywhere you go.” that same night, dean takes a new picture of the two of you. it’s sam laughing with cake smushed all over his face, while you’re kissing him on the cheek. you put that one in your car alongside the old one.

you don’t see him again until august, but this time, the visit’s unexpected.

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ ʚଓ་༘࿐

when sam came to your home, it was almost eleven o’clock at night, and bobby was already sleeping. he doesn’t knock on your front door, he climbs up to your fucking window like some fairytale prince. when he knocks, it jolts and makes you reach for the knife under your pillow. but when you see that it’s sam, you turn down the volume of your fiona apple record and walk to open your window. “baby? what happened?” you asked. he doesn’t respond as he looks at you with those puppy dog eyes. you climb through your window, sitting down beside him on the roof. “do you wanna talk about it?”

he grabs your hand, rubbing his thumb across your scar. “it's my dad. he found out about the whole college thing. he didn't take it too well, and… well, he kicked me out. said if i wanted to leave, then i should stay gone,” he explained.

you shifted closer, knees touching. “oh, baby, i’m so sorry.”

he shrugged. “it’s no big deal. i figured he would react that way, it just, still kinda hurts, you know.” you nodded silently. “i hopped on the first bus i could to see you before i left. the school year starts soon and i have to travel all the way to california and i don’t know how long it’ll take me.”

“you can take my car,” you offered, but he shook his head.

“bug, i’m not taking your car. bobby built that for you, i’m not gonna take it from you.”

you moved closer, now resting your head on his shoulder. “i just want you to get there safely.”

he rubbed your arm to warm you, as you were only dressed in an oversized tee. “i know you do, but i’ll still be safe. i always am.”

“you know… you could come with me,” sam said after a few minutes. “i can find an apartment close to the campus, and we can live together.”

“sam… i would go with you. and you know that, but i can’t just leave bobby in the middle of the night like that. he’s done too much for me in my life for me to leave him like that.”

sam sighed, but didn’t argue. he knew you had a point, but he still wanted you to be close by. “besides, it’s only a day drive. i can drive to visit you on the weekends, or something,” you reassured.

“i’d like that,” he muttered. “hold on, wait here.”

you watch him go into your bedroom and grab something, before joining you back outside. he now has your digital camera in hand. “sam, what are you doing with that?”

“nothing, bug, just taking a picture of you.”

“a picture of me? for what?” you asked with a soft laugh. “to keep with me,” he replies, looking at you with a ‘duh’ expression.

you playfully rolled your eyes, but complied with what he wanted. you fixed your hair and smiled at the camera as the flash went off. “perfect,” he said, looking at the picture. “i’ll print it before i leave in the morning.”

you grab his hand, pulling towards your bedroom. “let’s lay down, okay?” he follows after you, laying down beside you. his hand rests on your hip, rubbing his thumb across the exposed skin of your thigh.

“i’m gonna miss you,” he whispered.

“i’m gonna miss you too, but you can always call me when you do.”

“you know that that’s gonna be everyday, right?” he asks with a laugh.

“yeah, i know. i’ll make sure to keep my phone charged, then.”

he laughs again, pulling you to his chest. he breathes in the smell of your lavender shampoo, savoring it until he can be with you again.

“i love you so much, pretty girl.”

“i love you too, smart boy.”

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a/n: omg, second to last chapter and i'm already feeling so emotional about this series. i just love them sm and i'm gonna cry when i stop writing for them. if the smut is bad.. i'm sorry. i'm so bad at writing it bro omg. but i hope you guys still love, and lmk if u want to be tagged in any of my works in the future !! <333

taglist: @sacr1ficialang3l @mostlymarvelgirl @hobiespick @iloveyou2mia

#weird girl!reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x weird girl!reader #sam winchester x you #supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural x you #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester smut

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woso-dreamzzz · 14 hours ago

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Bug and Bear

Lucy Bronze x Child!Reader (Bear) x Bug

Summary: Bug comes to your house

Sometimes, Lucy wonders where she went wrong.

If it was a moment way in the past or something more recent.

Being one of your mothers was the greatest gifts in the world. She loves watching you grow and change and get the tiniest bit more attitude even though she knows it drives Keira crazy.

She loves watching your big full body yawns and your big stretches and the way you insist on curling up on the dog bed with Narla.

What she doesn't love, however, is moments like this.

Sitting on the garden patio is meant to be relaxing. She's meant to be sipping a cold drink in one hand and have her phone in the other. She's meant to be able to see you playing so nicely in the garden. She's meant to be able to look up and feel pride at the wooden pirate ship she'd built for you.

You'd seen one in the store when you still lived in Spain and desperately wanted it but there wasn't enough space in the house. But now you're all back in England, Lucy still hadn't bought you one.

She'd built you one instead, convinced that she could build you the pirate ship of your dreams with just some wooden beams from B&Q and a lot of hope.

She'd slightly overestimated the project but with the help of some of the Chelsea girls, it had managed to get it done.

You love it now and Lucy loves seeing you play in it.

Or, she usually loves seeing you play in it.

Everything gets a bit more chaotic when Leah and Jordan's Bug is around.

Like now as you and her play on the pirate ship with wooden swords that Lucy definitely doesn't remember buying you.

She shoots up, interrupting Narla's (who had been sleeping next to her) nap. "Girls!" She says quickly," Be careful."

"We are, auntie Lucy!" Bug hollers back but it's not Bug that Lucy's worried about.

It's you.

You're docile most of the time, happy to let play happen around you. But sometimes, when the circumstances were right, you can get a bit competitive and Lucy thinks that this is one of those moments.

You've got a sword. You've got Bug nearly walking the plank.

Victory is nearly yours now.

"Don't you dare hit her on the head with that, bear!"

You've got your sword raised high above your head when you turn to look at Lucy, bottom lip already jutting out in a pout. "Why?"

"Yeah, auntie Lucy," Bug joins in," Why?"

"Because it will hurt!" Lucy says, trying to calm her hammering heart," And I don't want to have to explain to Bug's mummies why she's on concussion watch."

"Bug won't be on con-sion watch."

"Yeah, I won't!"

"Concussion," Lucy corrects," And yes she will be because it's like when you ride your bike, remember? You have to wear your helmet so if you fall, you don't hurt your head. Heads can be hurt really easily, remember?"

You think for a moment, slowly lowering your weapon as Lucy breaths a sigh of relief and mentally pats herself on the back for being so responsible.

You take Bug's hand, pulling her slightly.

"Come on, buggy," You say," You can borrow my helmet!"

It takes a moment or two for Lucy's brain to catch up but it's enough time for you and Bug to climb down from the pirate ship and start making you way to the house and, presumably, to the room that has your bike helmet in.

"Wait...Hey, wait, you two! Where are you going?!"

Lucy already knows the answer but she feels like she had to ask anyway.

"We're getting my helmet for Bug," You say with an eye roll and a tone that clearly shows you think Lucy is being stupid," So we can play pirates properly."

"You've only got one helmet, bear," Lucy warns," What happens when Bug hits you on the head?"

The look you give Lucy is absolutely disgusting, completely full of contempt like she's just dipped your blankie in the mud or something.

"Bug won't hit me on the head."

"I won't!"

"Because I'm the better pirate."

"She is!"

"So only Bug needs the helmet."

"Yeah, only I need the helmet!"

Lucy sighs. "Go and get the helmet. Give me the swords."

Perhaps while you're finding the helmet, Lucy can find something soft indoors to wrap the swords in.

If only to soften the blow.

#woso x reader #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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gloryy-vs · 1 day ago

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Muse (MDNI 18+)

synopsis: what happens when the saja boys want to release another single? they turn to the only thing that can satiate them, you.

cw: smut, blowjob, missionary, p in v, breast play, fingering, m!masturbating, slight cunnilingus, exhibitionism, voyuerism, praise

pairing: saja boys x reader

a/n: lil lazy ending but this song inspired me sm, pls do listen to it while reading 🌚

You sat quietly on the couch, flipping through one of the latest books Jinu had bought for you from your favorite series. The boys seemed to be stuck, all of them spitballing ideas for their latest single they had to release. Deeply was curled next to you, purring fast asleep despite how rowdy the demons were being.

“We can just drop something like Soda Pop, they’ll ea tot up anyways.” Baby sighed, arms crossed on the couch with his leg bouncing up and down, annoyance was written all over his face.

“That’s just basic, at least our fake persona can have some diversity. Why not something sexy?” Romance purred, sitting by your legs and dragging his fingers up and down your soft calf.

“Yeah, something hot I can show my abs off to.” Abby said, flexing his muscles in front of the mirror before sauntering over to you.

He just finished his workout, his black wife beater tight against his rigid muscles. He took the book from your hands, tossing it on the table before extending his flexed arm to you. “Feel it up baby, you like that?” You knew he wouldn’t leave you alone until you did.

Grazing your fingers up his arm, then letting your nails drag down his skin while you squeezed his forearm. After finding out you were basically their soulmate three months ago you were used to this. The teasing, the sheer amount of testosterone hovering around you 24/7. “Feels good, Abby. Very different from yesterday.” You said sarcastically, looking up at the worn out man in front of you.

Romance swatted away Abby, clinging to your thighs with his head on your lap. “Back up, muscle head. She’s mine tonight.” The feeling of his fingers just barely going under the hem of your oversized shirt sent a chill up your spine.

You changed the subject quickly, “Romance is right. Why not a sex song? Something to drag your audience in even more, don’t make it subtle, but don’t be too graphic.” All the boys turned to you, thinking.

Jinu scratched the back of his neck, brainstorming a starter lyric. “I know what you’re into, baby got a type..” He trailed off, before the boys gave him a questioning look.

“The first lyric, about her.” Jinu said, subtly mentioning that every man she was involved with was a demon. They were going to make a song centered for you?

“Heaven is in my stare, not gonna take you there.” Baby hummed along, he was usually the one to make beats and keep a flow going. “Come take a sip in your fantasy, read between the lines, lucifer.” Jinu snapped his fingers, Abby cutting in to drop another line.

You sunk into the couch, well they definitely took the subtly sexy approach. “See, I’m a genius.” You sang, clapping your hands at how into the song they were.

Mystery walked out of the shower, confused at everyone’s incoherent singing and line dropping. He looked at you, and you shrugged as if you didn’t cause this. He adjusted the towel wrapped around his waist while water droplets fell past the tip of his v line. You found yourself staring intently, not noticing Abby trying to get your attention.

The muscles man grew impatient, his patterns glowing as he scooped you up and slung you over his shoulder. Romance cried out with you, “Hey! She was—“ He gave up after Abby began sauntering off with you.

“I need some inspiration for my lines, she’ll definitely help.” Abby told the others, before slapping your ass.

You looked to any of them for help before realizing, they’d probably *all* be needing you for some inspiration.

———-

Three rounds in and you could hardly keep yourself conscious as Abby slowly rode out his high inside of you, grinding slowly against you with your legs over his shoulders. “Such a good girl, took me so well.” He whispered, dragging his claws up and down your legs.

The soft shade of purple that was his skin looked ethereal in the dimly lit room, his figure only being barely visibly because of the candles lit. His fingers danced along your skin, making a beat out of it while he pulled out, leaving a kiss on your forehead. You sat up slowly, body buzzing from the amount of times he made you cum. You watched him as he walked to his connected bathroom, running you a bath.

————

After your shower, you wobbled out of his room, legs shaking. You readjusted his shirt you put on, wearing only a thong under. You glanced around the room, watching Abby and Jinu writing down sporadically on a notebook, Baby with a laptop out composing a series of drums and beats. Romance waltzed over to you, wrapping his arms around your torso, under your breasts. He rubbed against your face, whining.

“He stole you from me for so long, it was my turn tonight, my princess.” His claws dug into your skin, just enough to feel them through the loose shirt.

You felt bad, you did tell Romance it was his night for attention, just to be fucked into the bed by another demon. You placed one hand on his purple patterned skin, the other caressing his face.

“M’sorry, don’t hate me?” You said, sinking into him from one, how tired you were and two, that your legs barely worked.

Mystery appeared next to you, his hand raking over your hair before slipping to your jaw. “You can make time for both of us can’t you?” He mumbled, eyes darting to your breasts as Romance practically dragged you to the kitchen.

“Right here?!” You cried out, being pushed against the cool marble counter tops. Mystery made his way behind you, hands already finding their way to your breasts.

“They could use the visual inspiration too, puppy.” Mystery said, his lips dragging against your skin.

Romance lifted you up by your legs, letting you wrap around his waist as he pushed your silk thong to the side. His fingers slipped into you with no warning, making you buck your hips from how sensitive and sore you were down there.

Jinu let out a low whistle, watching the scene unfold just a few feet away from everyone else. An idea slipped into his mind, and he let out a low chuckle, whispering over to Abby and Baby. All three exchanged confirming and conniving looks. While they were deviously plotting, you were being fondled all over by two demons, eyes piercing into you as Romance watched your facial expressions change with each finger he added. He already grew impatient, slipping his pants down just to enough to let his cock slip out.

“Hold her tight for me, Myst.” He said, voice lower and more threatening. The demon behind you purred, lifting your shit up to expose your whole frame while he dipped his head even further, taking your nipple into his mouth.

Too distracted by him, Romance took the chance to slip his cock inside of you, fully, at once. You cried out, gripping onto his arms. He began thrusting into you, slow and hard. Your moans filled the room, desperate and hungry. It only enticed the demon more, his thrusts turning into restless assault to your cunt. He gripped onto your waist, holding you as still as possible while Myst straightened your back out, now you were fully pressed against both of them. The new found position let Romance hit deeper than before. Your moans grew louder, as if you were crying out. Your cunt being sore had the intrusion feeling so good.

Jinu waltzed over, phone held up to your mouth. Your eyes went wide as you tried to shut yourself up, only for Romance to grip onto your neck and increase his beast like pace. It was no use for you, your moans being recorded into his phone for god knows what. “Come on baby, keep making those pretty noises.”

Your face went red, and your eyes dragged over to the others. Baby was fisting his cock, watching you get devoured and humiliated in front of everyone. Abby was sitting laid back, having already gotten more than enough of his fill. He joking cheered and hoot hollered for Romance, “Keep it going, but don’t break her.” He yelled, watching each time your back arched and your hips grinded into the air.

“M’gonna cum, please, please God—“ You whined, only for Jinu to grip your jaw, not enough to hurt but enough to turn your head.

“None of that here, baby. Not when you take our cocks almost every night knowing exactly what we are.” He said, his eyes flashing brighter while you just nodded like a pathetic mess.

Romance slowed his pace, his thrusts turning into sloppy attempts. Mystery was holding you up just with his arm around you and his back against you, his other hand being used to jerk himself off. You couldn’t take it anymore, being put on display, being pressed between both of the massive demons, the realization you were being recorded and watched had you cumming, fingers clawing along Romances arms. He pressed his pelvis against you, cumming with you.

“There we go, easy baby. Easy.” He whispered, and you felt something hot spurt against your back. Mystery pressed his head against your shoulder, huffing softly, rubbing his hands over your arms.

————

You had to take another shower, now sprawled out on the couch while the boys were composing their parts. Lord— No, Gwi-ma knows you wouldn’t be getting any rest. You were too busy having your mouth stuff with Jinu’s cock, while your ass was up in there air, right next to Baby who was finger you, his free hand rubbing circles over your ass. All you wanted was to softly lay your head on Jinus lap, and swing your legs over Baby’s but of course they had other ideas.

Jinu fucked roughly into your mouth, his hand wrapped around your hair. Baby pressed three fingers into you, curling them in just the right spot. “Look at you, such a good little pet, for demons of all things. Look so pretty with a mouth full of cock.” Jinu hissed through his teeth, barely able to keep himself from cumming. Your tongue swirled around his cock, cheeks hollowing out while you bobbed your head, eyes never leaving his as he watched you proudly.

Your soft muffled moans weren’t helping either, each time Baby’s fingers curled into you only brought you closer. You gripped onto the pillow by Jinu’s lap, eyes squeezed shut and before you registered it, you came all over his fingers with a low moan, a cry of final relief. Jinu huffed, pressing your head down as he came, seed filling your mouth and hitting the back of your throat. Baby pulled his fingers out, licking them clean before dragging his tongue up your wet and messy cunt. You were so puffy and swollen that his tongue cleaning you up felt like heaven.

“Good job, baby. You’re such a good girl for us.” Jinu sighed, bringing himself down from the high while brushing the hair out of your face.

________

You were finally given peace, sleeping like a baby the entire night while the boys worked on their song, not like demons needed sleep anyways.

Sauntering out of your room, you rubbed your eyes just to find them all sitting around, listening to their final masterpiece. Jinu beckoned you over with a finger, telling you to take a seat in your lap. You say yourself down, letting your arm wrap around his shoulders for stability. He reminded the song, and you listened intently. The song started off beautifully, Abbys voice starting it off, followed my Mystery. Then when it came to the pre-chorus, it was you. Your moan. Before you could protest, Abby put his hand over your mouth. “Tsk, tsk. Just keep listening.”

You couldn’t believe your ears, despite how beautiful their voices sounded, what they sang about, knowing you were used as inspiration had your body shivering. A whole song just about how you please yourself with five demons, lured in some dark romance with them. Well, they weren’t far off. As the song ended, you stared at all of them, having no words.

“Did you like your special appearance? You sounded so good. Like you were made for it.” Baby said, giving you a smug smile.

“It’s…a great song. I expect some royalties.” You said jokingly. Still trying to process the fact such a lewd song was made. Their fans would have no idea what went into the creating process. Thank god.

“Don’t worry baby, you’ll be paid in more ways than one.” Mystery said, and you could only hope that after yesterday’s events, it was monetary payment.

#kpdh smut #kpdh edit #kpdh abby #kpdh saja boys #kpdh x reader #jinu kpdh #kpdh #rumi kpdh #mystery kpdh #kpdh baby #kpdh romance #Spotify

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thechaoticcherub · 2 days ago

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Secrets

Pairing: Dad!Joel x possessed!reader

Summary: You've been acting strange, especially at night but this time the sleep walking has gotten completely out of hand.

Warnings: 18+, Incest, DDDNE(Dead Dove Do Not Eat), age gap(obviously), dubcon, daddy kink(?), possession, demons, religious imagery, catholicism, dry humping, thigh riding, this shit is icky and dark, pet names, not beta-ed, barely any editing sorry, the POV is all over the place in this one, no use of y/n.

Notes: This is part of an on going dad!joel x possessed!reader miniseries. This is the first one i'm posting but it can def be read stand alone as will most of the others in this miniseries.

Also: i do not care about your feelings about incest in fics. dont like it? Dont read it. It's erotic fiction, I can explore whatever the fuck I want. The end.

Joel’s nights hadn’t been disturbed this much by you since you were a very little girl, but recently it had seemed like at least once a week it was a new moonlit issue. Of course nothing had ever gone this far, this was a new one as far as nocturnal adventures went. His phone had buzzed next to his bed, loud, angry and constant. When he hadn’t recognized the number he assumed Tommy was in trouble so his groggy,

“Yeah?” came out even more irritated than he had intended it to.

“Mr. Miller?” The voice on the other line was sure of itself but not unkind. Nothing like a police officer or warden of a jail and definitely not Tommy.

“Speaking,” He said as he tried to rouse himself, rubbing at his eyes, he fumbled for his watch on his bedside table, checking it. It was 3:42 AM.

“Mr. Miller, this is Father Reyes from Holy Trinity Catholic Church?” He posed it like a question, as if Joel should be aware why his pastor was calling him at 3 AM.

“F-father Reyes?” Joel asked, he had sat up in bed and was rubbing his forehead, trying to get his brain working. Immediately his mind went to when the last time he had been to confession, or even mass had been…god damn that Catholic guilt.

“Yes, I’m calling because your daughter is here…and I’m assuming this is as much news to you as it was to me,” As soon as Father Gabriel Reyes spoke those words, Joel was standing up to go check in your room. His first thought was that Father Reyes had the wrong girl, the wrong family but he needed to check anyway.

“What?” He asked.

“Yes, I refrained from calling the police because I know her and you and thought I should contact you first.” Joel hurried across the hall, but he already knew from the sight of your door standing ajar that you would not be in your bed. Fear rushed through him, like tidal wave after confusing tidal wave.

“I’m coming now,” Joel spoke into the phone as he stood in your doorway, staring at your bed. It looked…staged. As if you had purposely folded your blanket back just so and slid from the bed, leaving it looking like a gaping maw. Empty of his child who he had so obliviously assumed was sleeping soundly nearby.

Joel didn’t remember much about getting dressed and finding his keys. He remembered nothing of the short drive from the house to Holy Trinity. It was a drive he had done so many times before, with you that he could have done it in his sleep-apparently you could walk it in your sleep because that was the only explanation. Your sleep walking had started again. Only now it had graduated from jaunts into kitchen when you were six years old to jaunts down the middle of the night suburban streets to your old church.

When he reached the nearly empty parking lot, he parked haphazardly. The night time disturbances of the last few weeks felt like they were getting odder and odder and this was one that he could not abide. It was one thing to have a nightmare and shriek in the night. It was one thing to beg to sleep in his bed…even if that had it’s own set of problems. But this…this was a different level. Leaving your home. Leaving him to wonder how the fuck you managed to get somewhere this far away.

When Joel walked to the doors of the church he caught sight of the cleaners leaving, they gave him a look that might have been judgement. Joel hurried past them and into the narthex where he saw Father Reyes waiting for him, looking flustered.

“Father Reyes,” Joel said, “I’m so sorry about this-I’m guessin’ she’s sleepwalkin’” Joel said.

“Yes, I believe she is. I came in when the cleaners called me and said there was someone in the nave. I sat with her but I didn’t think it would be a good idea for someone other than family to wake her.” He explained. Joel was barely listening, he was looking around, trying to see if he could catch sight of you.

“Yea, probably a good idea, shit-“ he broke off, “I mean…yeah, I don’t know what’s goin’ on with her.” There was a moment when he looked back at Father Reyes that he could see that judgement he had seen on the cleaner’s faces appearing on his face, but then it was gone and he was back to his holy self. After the moment passed he felt himself wanting to ask the pastor something but he wrote it off as a ludicrous question and turned to go get you.

When he walked into the Nave, he saw you immediately, you were sitting three pews back from the front. You were seemingly staring up at the cross. Joel could shake the eeriness of it. Something about the shadows, the stained glass, the statues and looming cross made the hairs on his arms stand up. This was one of the most holy places you could be in and yet, Joel felt wrong as he walked down the aisle towards where you were sitting. Maybe he had just seen The Exorcist too many times.

There was barely any light in the nave, some filtering in from the Narthex and whatever moonlight gleamed in through the tall stained glass. Joel reached your pew and sank down in the space next to you. You were still, looking forward, your hair in front of your face covering your eyes. Your body was leaned forward slightly, your hands twisted together in your lap. You were in just your nightgown.

The thought of you out walking down the backroads all alone in nothing but your pajamas made Joel feel sick to his stomach. He reached out and gently brushed your hair back away from your face. Your eyes were open but they stared blankly upwards at the cross.

“Babygirl,” Joel whispered to you, trying to ease you back to reality. When you were little and would sleepwalk into the kitchen, or into his room, he would softly and gently coax you back to bed. You would never remember it in the morning, you would giggle, your nose scrunching when he would relay it all to you. He longed for that giggle again, the nose scrunch on your beautiful face. Even now, addled, sleep stuck in your eyes, he couldn’t help but notice how genuinely pretty you were. The curve of your lips as they pouted even now, the way your deep breathing pressed your breasts-

Your head rolled around, uncanny in its swiftness, to lock half lidded eyes on him. Your eyes saw him, but there was no sparkle of recognition, or acknowledgment, or any of your typical life. Your eyes were nothing like his daughters, except there you sat, looking like you, smelling like you, breathing like you, but the creep in the back of Joel’s neck contradicted his senses.

“Do you think He will forgive you, Daddy?” It was your voice, your sweet voice that usually was too loud or too boisterous. The voice he had known since your first cry almost 19 year ago but something told Joel to move away form you, but he didn’t, he wouldn’t.

Your eyes inched up his body, dragging a crawling feeling inside of Joel with it. When you locked eyes with him, your voice changed from a flat monotone to something with more life, even if that life was mocking him.

“Do you think He should forgive us?” Your hand found his thigh, high up on his jeans, so close, so nearly touching something you shouldn’t have even thought of. There was something sick inside Joel that didn’t immediately push you away. Later, he would tell himself it was because he hadn’t wanted to upset you while you were still obviously…asleep.

Joel watched your hand, it worked closer and closer, you were ready to grab him through his jeans, he could feel it so close and he knew there was a part of him that wanted to let it happen. It was a part he had buried for so long that he cold barely access it now but it was there and it was making him harden now. Your fingers brushed against the denim clad bulge, your head was still lolling on your shoulder, eyes staring up at Joel. For a moment the spark of pleasure that spasmed through him threatened to take over his whole brain but in your face Joel saw a flash of a similar Judgement. Maybe it was really there, maybe it wasn’t but it snapped him away from his insane needs andhe shoved your hand back off of him, coming back to himself.

“Babygirl, shhh, you’re sleepin’ lets get ya home,” He said, he breath coming in half shuddering.

“I know all the secrets you hide.” Your voice lilted into a exaggerated southern drawl, deep and commanding, almost like his own but still too high, you, his daughter, mimicking him. Joel had about enough of this now, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and stood you up, you stood without hesitation and he took your into the aisle. Joel shrugged his coat off as he walked you out of the nave, putting it around your shoulders.

“Thanks for callin’, Father.” Joel said as he passed Father Reyes who nodded and Joel felt him watch him as he took you out of the Narthex and to your car.

Joel got you situated laying across the backseat, going to the front seat. He was trying his hardest not to linger on the words you had spoken while sitting in the pew. What secrets could you have possibly been talking about? Clearly you were dreaming and speaking nonsense, there was no other explanation for it. You slept in the backseat for the entire short drive back to the house. Joel parked in the driveway and stared out the windshield for a moment, there was no reason to be unsettled by you, you were his daughter for Christ’s sake.

You had been challenging and a little different your whole life and Joel had always appreciated that about you. You follow the beat of your own drummer, peanut! He had always told you. You had also always had issues with sleep, dating back to when you were a baby, colic-y, clingy, restless. But there was something about now that felt so different to Joel. Maybe it was just because you were grown now and reverting to childhood problems seemed…off. The way you had looked, sitting in that church pew, staring forward, unseeing, it gave him the heebie jeebies. Then again, when you had slept walked as a little girl, you had often scared the shit outta him. Suddenly appearing at the foot of his bed, or worse, leaning directly over him.

Joel tried to push aside the worry and got out of the car, glancing towards the front of the house as he walked around to the backseat. When he finally turned his gaze to the backseat you were sitting straight up, looking through the window at him.

“Jesus,” he jumped, not expecting you to be right there. When he opened the back door, you blinked a few times,

“Dad?” You asked and Joel was relieved to hear your sweet voice, normal, emotional and confused.

“Yea, peanut, you were sleep walkin’,” he said, reaching out to help you out of the car. “Almost all the way to fuckin’ Timbuktu,” He said, half under his breath. You reached out to him and he took your hands, wrapping his arm around you as he lead you into the house.

Joel took you right up to your room, you were still pretty out of it but you were wondering where you had gone, Joel reluctantly told you and you stared at him like he had three fuckin’ heads, as if he would lie to you about where he had picked you up from.

“I don’t…understand, I don’t remember-“ You were mumbling as Joel pulled the blankets in your bed back so you could get in.

“Well you were sleepwalkin’ I don’t think you typically remember that-“

“Yeah but…I was at church?” You confirmed again. Joel nodded.

“Don’t worry too much about it now, peanut. Get in bed,” He instructed, he watched you sink down onto the edge of the bed, laying back against the pillows and staring, still clearly upset, at the ceiling.

“Did I say anything?” You asked. The words spoken to him in a flat monotone came back to Joel, sending a shiver up and down his spine even now as he tucked you safely into bed. Do you think He will forgive you, Daddy? Do you think He should forgive us? I know all the secrets you hide. Joel shook his head,

“Nothin’ that made much sense,” he said. You were quiet, laying under the covers, your eyes distant. Joel watched your body give an intense shudder, your teeth started to chatter and your brow knit.

“I’m…I’m freezing,” You said.

“Well doesn’t surprise me, walkin’ all the way to church in nothin’ but your nightgown and no fuckin’ shoes.” Joel half laughed and turned to leave you, “You’ll warm up quick-“

“No! Dad!” Your voice tilted towards desperate as you reached out for him. “I’m…I’m so cold…” Your teeth were chattering so hard it was making it almost impossible for you to get the words out. The shivering had seemed to come out of nowhere. Joel turned back,

“Babygirl, you’re safe.” He said, wondering if maybe the shivering was more from being unsettled. “Just relax-“

“NO!” you practically shouted, you sat up in bed and reached out to clutch his arm, “Daddy!” You wailed, and it crushed something inside of Joel. It wasn’t the same way you had said ‘daddy’ earlier, taunting, cruel. It was like you were his baby again, crying for him. “Please come warm me up,” Your voice tortured him in so many ways, he couldn’t focus on which one this was. “Please!” You pleaded. Joel couldn’t say no. Not when you were shaking, not when you seemed to need him so badly.

“Okay, darlin,” he pulled the blankets back again and crawled into your small bed next to you, body pressing into yours. “Christ, girl,” He said as his hand touched your bare upper arm, you were freezing. So freezing you didn’t feel real. He started to rub your arm, trying to bring life back into your skin.

“I told you I was freezing,” You whined. Joel curled around you, wrapping his arms around you and pulled you back into him. Your back to his front. Those secrets your sleep-stolen mind had mentioned earlier started to pulse under his skin. No. You didn’t know those secrets. You had been talking nonsense in that church. He clenched his jaw and shut his eyes, willing away any feelings that had started to erupt inside of him. But then you wiggled your hips back and it certainly didn’t feel accidental.

“Daddy,” You breathed and the word felt so completely wrong in this little bed, with his arms locked around you, and your hips wiggling.

“Shh, go to sleep again, babygirl.” He breathed. He rubbed at your back, your sides, your arms wanting to rub warmth, heat into you but it seemed like he was only stoking the heat inside of himself.

You were quiet for a moment and he hoped you were starting to drift off but then you suddenly pushed yourself up and flipped around so you were facing him. You tucked yourself into his chest, curling up there, Joel’s arms resting on your waist. He could feel your breathing, feel every tiny motion of your body. So when you opened your legs, flinging one over top of his he almost pushed you off of him. But what kind of father rejects cuddles from his daughter like that? Even though now he could feel your crotch pressing into his thigh which was now resting between your two legs, he couldn’t shove you off of him. Not when you needed him so badly and your arms were still so cold.

Joel resigned himself to lay still and allow you to try and get comfortable in whatever way you needed. He listened to your sweet breaths, trying to calm down it seemed. It had been an eventful night and now you were just looking for comfort. Joel leaned over and buried a kiss in your hair. You sighed contentedly and your weight shifted slightly. Adjustment, to get comfortable.

You pressed your hips forward, feeling your dad’s jean clad thigh between your legs. His arms were holding you so tightly, protectively and you felt very out of body, like you couldn’t quite control the motion of your hips. You were caged in his arms, something gripped you and kept you there, rocking your body forward. Your short nightgown was riding up, practically around your waist. Joel pretended he didn’t notice. Your underwear was the only protection between your most intimate part and the denim of his pants and it felt rough and delicious.

Your movements were steady now, not adjustments, not something Joel should ignore…but he was. You were grinding your pussy against his leg, that was obvious. Secrets. You also had secrets apparently and yet while you were sleeping you had the fuckin’ audacity to mock him about secrets? You pressed yourself against his thigh, and Joel didn’t move, or…he did a little, he adjusted his leg, propping it up some, providing a more stable spot for you to grind against.

The silence between you was thick, you were trying to regulate your breathing, if he caught on that you were breathing too hard it would break the spell, the agreement to say nothing and he would stop you. You couldn’t stop now. Something deep inside of you was compelling you forward, it was fucking humiliating how badly you needed this. You needed to get off on Daddy’s leg and you hated yourself for it. If you could have stopped, you would have, you would have forced your body away from his and run away, never to look at him again. But no. It was like you were a puppet, being held up by taut strings, rocking your hips forward over and over, grinding yourself against him. But there was no marionette that could control the throbbing in your clit and the need for release.

Disgusting girl. The voice crept in unbidden. It was familiar now. A rumble from underneath and it sent chills through you. All your secrets laid out right here. Dad’s watching them play out. Your humping of his thigh was becoming more frantic and you needed something to hold on to. So afraid of the trance being broken but unable to stop yourself your arms reached up and locked around Joel’s neck.

Joel was screaming at himself to stop it, to hold your hips back but his cock was throbbing in the jeans and he needed to see this play out and he couldn’t take away the comfort from you. He wouldn’t. You buried your face in his shoulder, he could feel the hum of whines, muffled by his shirt as you worked your body towards climax. Joel reached around and put his hand on your lower back, helping you rock back and forth, seeking that need. The movement of his hand made you even more aware of who this was, Daddy…Dad, trying to take care of you. Disgusting girl. Always needing Dad to help. The voice burrowed itself inside of you. You were losing yourself now, pleasure was taking over your body but something else was as well, relishing in the incestuous lust. The vile debasement of a loving father and daughter. The moan escaped your mouth, sounding like a gasp and a growl at the same time.

Joel could feel you shuddering against him, his jeans felt damp from how wet you were and as you moaned he just knew you had just come. He couldn’t speak. How could that growl that had just escaped your mouth be his sweet little girl? Coming against his thigh. He was proud of you for taking what you needed but his cock was rock hard with need, he resigned himself to the fact that there was nothing to be done about it now. Especially as your body went limp in his arms and you buried your face in his chest.

Silence stretched on and you refused to look up from his chest. Joel half wanted to whisper that it was okay, that he loved you but you clearly couldn’t look at him, or even move away from your hiding spot in his chest so he let it remain silent. After a while, he just hoped you were sleeping. He hoped it was peaceful.

You might have been asleep but it wasn’t peaceful. The voice taunted you, mocking you for all your secrets, even as you slept enveloped in Daddy’s arms.

#joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #the last of us #tlou #writing #tw: incest #cw: incest

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zepskies · 2 days ago

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Ahahaaa I love it!! Definitely need to buckle in for this one - it's wild ride for more than one reason lmaooo 🙀

This was soooo good! Pure poetry, friend! Brava 😍👏❤️‍🔥

ehehe thank you, lovely! Coming from you, that's big praise. 🥰🥰 (Also was debating like, how many metaphors for this is too many? Trying to be more creative with the smut writing 🤣)

Not the soap drop 🤣

*snorts* admittedly was a bit cliché and a little mean, but I couldn't resist 😂😂

I’m watching you…

😘

I’m reading up 😭😭😭 I’m happy he gets to say it to her again, but at the same time, I hope it’s not inevitable if the last times 🥲

You know, I even debated whether he should admit it yet, but for some reason it felt right. 🥹 Maybe because he knows he may not have as many opportunities to say it, and he's still reeling that she forgave him and is back in his life. ❤️‍🩹

Uh-huh, let’s do the fucking “second opinion stuff,” Mark?! How long does he think he can wait with this? 😅 And you raised an interesting point that I kept thinking throughout watching (and especially during that little fainting spell in 1x05) – how long does he think he’s gonna be okay enough to do this? At this point, it seems most likely he hopes to get shot because it’s be quicker 🙈

Right?! lmfao she's definitely going to bring that up again soon.

That's honestly what I keep thinking about. Until when does he think he can hide this from his team? And like we just saw in 1x05, how long until that happens while he's mid-mission, not just in a stairwell safe in home base. 😰 I think you're right - he'd rather just keep making reckless moves until he gets taken out on the job somehow, or at least try to finish this last mission.

Lol that poor man. Actually so curious where his story goes 👀

lol me too! He was thwarted in 1x05, but I don't think we've seen the last of him 😂

Yup!!! But I fear Rachel is too far gone and you can’t help someone if they don’t wanna be helped 🤷‍♀️

It's quite possible! But maybe by the end of this one she'll get some clarity on a few things lmao

Of fucking course! God, I hate that woman so much 🤮😂

hahaaa right? She's a lot (too much) 🤣🤣

I loved how reader instantly tore into Rachel! I was cheering her on throughout 😂👏👏👏

When she said "on sight," she truly meant on sight! 😝 Their problems go back way past Mark, unfortunately, so it was like popping the cork open on years of resentment on both sides 😅

Haha his road rage stood out to me, too. Fuckstick 🤣🤣

💯💯 lmfaooo girl I had to put it back the first time because I was like, "he really said 'fuckstick'??" 😂😂😂 This man.

This whole bit had me rolling!! Loved how reader just really gave it to Rachel, and Mark just stood and watched 😂😂 But man, this girl deserved it, and you delivered. Thank you, Alex 😻😌🙌 (And it’s clear theres no coming back from this. I don’t even think Lisette likes Rachel 😂)

Ahaha I'm so glad you enjoyed the show! (we know Mark did.) 🤣🤣 Reader definitely went all in, and tbh I think Rachel deserved it too. Girl needed a reality check 🤣 (honestly no, Lisette is that sad, disappointed woman who just realized she created a monster lol.)

That cut so deeply and it’s so true 😭 Please don’t kill my heart with this series 🙏 (Slowly regretting sending you that song lmao)

Oof yeah, I think this is the part that justifies reader's rage the most. It's not just the fact that Rachel tried to steal her man/wreck her relationship, but the fact that reader and Mark lost precious time where they could've been already married, him getting treatment, etc.

Also I'm trying not to kill my own heart with that song inspo. 🤣🤣 Still trying to decide how big of an asshole Mark is gonna end up being in the next one 😅

Awww, such a callback to Downgrade! I loved this little tidbit between them and how it reminded him of her back then 😍🥹

omgg I'm so happy you caught that little tidbit!! 🥹 That's exactly what I was going for 💕

Oooh, I can’t wait to see where you take this! They tried to paint Valwell in a better light with what Bell said, but I’m still kinda sus of the man – asset or adversary? So I love that reader is in the middle of all of this (even if she doesn’t know it yet) 👀

Aww thank you!! Nah I think Valwell is skeevy tbh. Maybe he was a good prosecutor in his younger days, but he strikes me as getting more of an ego as the power got to him. Reader may or may not be about to find out how in the middle she is in the next part... 🫢

And I sound like a hypocrite after I told you about my angsty deadly Mark dreams, but please let that second opinion work out 😅🙏 Can’t wait for the next part, Alex!! 😍💙💜

Oh my God, Wayne you nearly killed me with that!! 😭 Please be gentle with my heart, friend, you know I'm delicate! 😂😂💙🩵

I'm so happy you're enjoying this little series! I'm genuinely having a lot of fun with it, like I know you're having fun with ATS. Right now I'm torn between going my own way and seeing what they do to end S1, but I guess we'll see in parts (and episodes) to come...

SISTER, SISTER

Pairing: Mark Meachum x F. Reader

Summary: You and Mark have an emotional reconnection after he finally comes clean. But that also means you have some unfinished business to take care of with your sister, Rachel.

AN: Wrote this last week because I guess I can't stop myself! 😂 So yep, these Mark stories have officially become a series of one-shots called — ‘Til When Do Us Part. This one is also a gif check requested by my friend @lamentationsofalonelypotato for the 5K Follower Celebration. I think this is an important puzzle piece to explore after Catastrophic Blues. 😉

Word Count: 4.6K

Tags/Warnings: [Set during 1x02] 18+ only! Reunion smut, fluff, an epic cat fight (lol), angst, hurt/comfort

Series Masterlist

His hair dragged through your fingers again. First soft and loose, then gripped tight—desperate, hot tingles across your skin.

It was almost too much.

A halting moan fell from your lips, his biting kiss along your throat as he moved inside you.

“Fuck. Takin’ me better than ever, baby,” he said into your skin, his words gritted out and tinged with smoke and relief. “Gonna feel me for fuckin’ days at this rate.”

The sound of his voice reached deep into your bones. The safety of his arms caged you underneath him on his bed, the old mattress creaking with every test of the springs. He wrapped an arm around your thigh like curling steel, opening you up more for him, making his rolling thrusts hit deeper. Harder. A man possessed.

You gasped, your pussy already throbbing in time with your heartbeat. Your words were barely syllables, but they escaped you nonetheless. "Oh, fuck. Mark..."

He smirked into your neck. His lips trailed down to your shoulder and nipped harder with teeth, just to feel you writhe against him. You whimpered, your sensitive nipples brushing against his chest when you arched back up into him.

His hot breaths further ignited your skin. Your nails raked down the back of his neck and down his shoulder as you held on for the ride—an obscene squelching of wetness and hot breaths, skin against flushed skin. Your fingers pressed into every divot of muscle, as if you could sink right through his skin and make him feel you. Not for days. Forever.

You didn’t have words to speak. It was all in your eyes when they met his. Raw, vulnerable, glassy with pleasure, your breaths unsteady with emotion.

He pulled back a little, just so he could slip his hand between your bodies and find your slick, swollen clit again. He swept the pads of his fingers in the angles and rhythm he knew would serve you best in between his thrusts.

He swallowed your gasp of his name, your whimpers as you shuddered and came. A sensation like kaleidoscope colors, bursting like so many stars. You fucking squeezed him from the inside out for the third time tonight, finally forcing a ragged groan from his own lips as he spilled into you. His hips stuttered a shaky and powerful release.

You grabbed his face and poured your soul into that kiss, a wet and filthy meeting of lips and tongues.

Panting breaths forced their way through his nose, but he wouldn’t break that kiss for all the world. He finally had you back in his arms. He had the scent of your floral soap in his nose, your familiar sweetness on his tongue, your hair threaded through his fingers. He had it all.

It wasn’t the faded memories he clung to in a brick-and-mortal cell, or the daydreams of what if that had been torturing him whenever he saw a girl in a white dress, or a family sitting at dinner with their little kids in highchairs.

It was you, solid and real.

Your kiss swollen lips dragged from his slowly, reluctantly, with shaky breaths in between.

He let your thighs slip down to rest more comfortably around his hips, but he didn't move just yet. He stayed buried deep inside you.

He brushed your frizzy hair away from your forehead, his eyes a little softer, less crazed. You sniffled as a tear rolled from the corner of your eye. He swept the wetness away with his thumb.

“I know it was good, but you don’t need to cry, sweetheart,” he teased lightly. There was a tender note in his voice though.

Your heart clenched to hear it. Part of you still couldn't believe this was real. Despite yourself, you laughed a little, breathless and boneless.

“I guess it’s just, um…it’s been a while.”

“Really? You haven’t, uh, been seeing anyone?” he asked, trying to hide the hope from his voice.

You snorted. “No.”

Plain and simple. He quirked a smile.

“And you?” you asked reluctantly, as if the answer wouldn't tear into you if he said any form of yes.

He almost laughed. “I was in lockup for nine months, remember?”

Relief allowed you to relax again. A smirk began to curve your lips as your fingers tapped an idle rhythm on his dewy arms.

“What, you didn’t get yourself a little boyfriend? No ‘drop the soap’ action?” you teased.

Mark’s jaw nearly unhinged. He stared down at you, disbelief and amusement warring for dominance at your cheek.

“Oh, you think you’re funny, huh?”

Your whole body shook in effort to contain your giggles, but you couldn’t help yourself.

His tongue poked the inside of his cheek as he tried not to laugh. Honestly, he should’ve expected nothing fucking less from you.

You were still kee-keeing when you caressed his bearded face with both hands, then twined your arms around his neck. But soon, you sobered up.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… You had to live with those animals for almost a whole year. I can’t even imagine how deeply shitty that was. How scary,” you said.

Mark huffed, shaking his head. He rubbed your arm and pressed a kiss to the inside of your wrist.

“Heh. I was in hell long before I walked into Palmdale,” he said.

The confession slipped through his lips before he could think better of it, but there it was. Your expression fell even more. With a sigh, he stroked your cheek. Then he carefully withdrew, pulling out of your heat. You both felt the loss with soft groans.

He climbed out of bed just to grab a towel from his bathroom for the cleanup.

This was the first time you’d come to his place, just a couple of days since he took you home from that bar in Downtown. Two days since he came clean to you about what happened in Venice. Two days since you somehow found it in your heart to forgive him.

He still didn’t know what the hell he was doing with you. He hadn’t discussed it with you, hadn’t labelled it. It was almost as if you two had picked up from where you left off, except this time, there was an unknown expiration date.

That reminder literally hit him between the eyes. It forced him to pause in the bathroom and white-knuckle grip the edge of the sink. He grimaced and willed the pain away, stifling a grunt. Fuck...not even a moment's fucking peace.

"You okay?" your voice filtered over from the bedroom. Mark turned his face away from the mirror, just in case you could catch an angle of him.

"Yeah," he said, a little rougher. He breathed in deep, until the sharpest edges were passed. He padded back out and brought the dampened towel back to you.

It was late, but he still checked his phone on the nightstand for any missed notifications. He never knew when he might get called in by Blythe—another thing Mark couldn’t tell you about. He wondered if the taskforce was on your radar anyway, what with how D.A. Valwell was consistently trying to butt into their operations.

So far, you hadn’t mentioned anything weird going on with your boss in the office. Maybe Valwell was keeping you out of it. As he should.

You welcomed Mark back into bed and under the covers, luring him into a kiss as he settled in beside you. He drew you into his arms and couldn’t help but stare. He took in every contour of your face. Every shade of beauty.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “Have I said that yet?”

A slight, sad smile twitched at your lips. Your heart pulsed sharply.

“What’s happening to you isn’t your fault. There’s no reason to be sorry,” you said.

“There is a reason,” he nodded. “I didn’t want to leave you twisting in the wind. I just…��

“I know,” you sighed. You watched his profile as he looked ahead, rather than at you directly. A deep breath ran through him, not altogether steady.

“I love you,” he said. He swallowed, jaw clenching. “Think it’s pretty obvious that I never stopped.”

You guided his face back toward you with a gentle hand on his cheek. Your thumb brushed over his lips.

“It’s become painfully clear to me,” you said, “that I’ll never love anyone like I love you.”

Morning came, and you weren’t ready. You didn’t want to leave this house with its familiar smell and its gray-blue walls, which you and Mark painted together. After he inherited the house from his mother, who passed away a few years ago, you helped him clean and touch it up without losing the character of the house.

You were going to officially move in with him after you two got married and let go of your Downtown apartment that was close to your job, but often so empty. Obviously, that move never happened.

“You’re having dinner with your mom tonight, right?” Mark asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

You finished tucking in your blouse into your skirt and began to fix your hair in his wardrobe mirror. You had to go into work, and so did he. He was buckling his belt over his jeans, already dressed in a dark green shirt and one of his favorite leather jackets—the black one you helped him pick out.

“Yeah, every Tuesday,” you nodded. You turned and reached for the edges of his jacket. “I know it’s your business to share, but…can I tell her about what you’re going through? That we’re back together? She would want to see you.”

Mark hesitated. “I’d like that too, but let's just keep this between you and me for now.”

You frowned. “I still can’t believe you haven’t told your precinct. How long do you plan to work like this? Mark, what if…what if something happens when you’re on the job? I mean medically.”

He couldn’t blame you for your worry and concern. He held you by your arms and gave a reassuring squeeze.

“You know I’m on a case right now. It’s important,” he said, trying to communicate the gravity of it through his eyes, the tone of his voice. “After that’s done…I don’t know. We’ll talk about it. That and the, uh, second opinion stuff.”

Despite your lingering worry, a small smile peeked through. “At least you said we.”

Mark flickered at a smile too. He bowed down to kiss you on the forehead, lingering there with a short sigh. Ever since he left you, he’d been operating with a reckless head and a worse heart. But if you were determined to stick this out with him, like you seemed to be, then it wasn’t just about him anymore.

He’d have to protect you too.

“Mmm, smells good, Mom,” you said, shutting the door of your childhood home behind you. Inside, the modest three-bedroom house was filled with the rich savory smell of something warm in the oven.

Your mom, Lisette, waved you over with her oven mitt hand.

“Hey, honey. Come ‘ere and taste this.”

She took out a large glass pan filled with beef pot roast, complete with carrots, little yellow potatoes, and charred sprigs of rosemary on top.

“Wow, all that for just the two of us?” you asked, kissing her on the cheek. She just smiled and gave you a forkful after she blew on it first. You took the bite and fairly melted.

“Ughhh, so good. It’s been a long time since you made a whole…” You trailed off as you realized it.

Lisette’s smile turned bittersweet. “Yeah, it was your father’s favorite.”

She took off her oven mitts and left the pan to cool on the counter. She braced a few fingertips on the edge of that counter, as if her mind contained too many memories to sort through. You brushed a hand against her arm, earning her attention.

“Thanks. I brought dessert too,” you said, raising the grocery bag in your hand. You set that on the counter as well. You gave your mom a hug, warm and comforting.

Lisette sighed and hugged you back gratefully. She rubbed your back, like good moms did. But when she pulled back, she noted the smile on your face with a raised brow. It was genuine, not the fake ones you gave to pacify her. In fact, you looked more relaxed, more like yourself.

“You seem…”

“What?” you asked in confusion.

“I don’t know. A little happier today, I guess,” she said. “Did something good happen at work?”

You huffed. “No. Valwell’s antsy and frustrated about something, but every time I ask what’s wrong, he tells me it’s fine. Nothing for me to worry about.”

Not to mention, he’d taken three long lunches at odd times in the past week alone. Every time he got back to the office, he seemed more agitated and upset, storming through the halls like they owed him rent money.

“Well, it’s probably above your clearance, honey,” said Lisette. “If he wanted you to know, he would tell you.”

You frowned thoughtfully, tapping a nail on the counter. Before you could think too hard on it, your mom subtly cleared her throat, the way she always did when she was a bit nervous. She busied herself with grabbing silverware for the dinner table. Your brows drew together.

“You grabbed three sets,” you pointed out.

“Mhmm,” she nodded. “We’re going to be three today.”

“Who else is coming?”

Lisette hesitated, didn’t seem to want to meet your suspicious gaze. “Your sister. I invited her.”

Your face fell. Stony and incredulous.

“You did not.”

“I did. You two haven’t spoken in almost a year.”

“For good damn reason, Mom!”

“I know,” Lisette said, in a sharper voice than you expected. After a moment though, she softened. “I know. What she did to you…it’s frankly incomprehensible. But she’s still your sister. Your father would be sick to know you two are fighting like this.”

A harsh sigh fell from your lips. You rubbed your temples with both hands.

“We’re not fighting,” you said. “I’m just choosing to pretend I’m an only child.”

Lisette gave you a sad frown that spoke more volumes than her words could. You felt a stab of guilt for it, but you didn’t take it back. If you had to see that hateful bitch today, then you wouldn’t hold back this time. It would be on sight.

And…of fucking course.

As if on cue, there was a commotion at the front door. The lock began to turn and click. Then the door slid open, revealing Rachel with her key to the house poised in hand. She was a personal trainer and yoga instructor, so she was wearing her skin-tight Halara leggings (yes, the “TikTok Leggings”), along with a breezy crop top.

She had a chain-link purse strung over her shoulder and oversized sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, but you could still see her eyes widen when she caught sight of you, her steps stopping short in the doorway.

You stared right back at her. Your teeth clenched, like a train grinding against the tracks at a hard stop and shooting off sparks. Everything Mark told you two days ago came rushing through your mind—every unwanted touch, every disgusting, manipulative word she used to try and spin him into her web while he was at his worst.

“What—What’re you doing here?” she said, a frightened little deer caught in your trajectory.

You didn’t even answer. You couldn’t speak.

You just moved, rounding the kitchen counter and cutting through the dining room with a purpose. Rachel squeaked, and she scrambled to back out of the house the way she came in. She flung the door open and retreated.

You followed.

“I know what you really did, you lying, psycho bitch!” you hissed. Your voice carried and seemed to slap Rachel upside the head. She stopped on the stone walkway leading up to the house. She turned around, lifted the sunglasses to the top of her head, and she glared at you warily.

“What’re you talking about?” she shot back.

You laughed in disbelief. “Oh, don’t act dumb now. What you did to Mark isn’t just reprehensible. I should file a report and get you fucking arrested for being a vile cunt.”

Rachel’s eyes flashed. Her face screwed up in anger, so much that she strode back up the steps and slapped you across the cheek. Your head twisted to the side at the stinging blow. You even stumbled a little, but your shock gave way to a grim smile.

Can we say, self-defense?

Her face dawned with realization, just a bit too late. She didn’t even have the instincts to duck your punch.

“Goddamn it. Fucking move, people!” Mark muttered uselessly at the cars in front of him.

It had been a long damn day. It also looked like he and the team were heading to Mexico in the morning. Doing a drug run for Javi, a local cartel boss, would hopefully get them one step closer to finding out who he carried a shipment of goddamn fissile material for. They had to find out who was trying to orchestrate another 9/11 in California.

Mark was on his way home, cutting through L.A. traffic the best he could during rush hour. His stomach was practically attacking his liver in hunger. He also wanted to see you before he left, hopefully for just a day or two.

Didn’t you say you were over at your mom’s for dinner? Damn, that woman could cook.

How many Sunday dinners had he spent with your family in the past five years? All those Christmases and Thanksgivings, birthdays, Fourth of Julys at the beach and Memorial Day backyard barbeques.

Your mom was a sweetheart, too. She always bought him gifts at Christmas, never forgot his birthday, always saved him a special cut of whatever she was cooking. Truth be told, she was like a second mother to him, especially after his mom passed.

Mark sighed. He closed his eyes for a moment and let his head slowly fall back against the headrest. A warning flash of pain echoed through his skull, like a small oyster knife on the twist.

Fuck me.

It would be good to see Lisette—and be able to share another one of those meals with you too, however many of them he had left.

The traffic light finally turned green. Mark found himself changing lanes, then changing directions. Another twenty minutes had him pulling up to your family home on a quiet residential street.

Well, it was usually quiet.

“Aw, shit.” Was that Rachel out there on the driveway? What the hell was she doing here?

She was beelining up those cobblestone steps right for you. She threw you a slap so hard it snapped your head to the right, making your hair fly in your face.

“The fuck?!” His angry brows furrowing, Mark parked the car and unclipped his seatbelt quick, but when he next looked up, he caught sight of your swift left hook.

“God-damn,” he couldn’t help but laugh. As a man of the law, he knew he should've been stepping in right about now, but this opportunity was a little too satisfying to give up. He stayed where he sat to watch the show.

Rachel went down like a sack of shit.

And you didn’t waste no time. You pushed her the rest of the way down into the grassy front yard and got on top of her, pinning her arms behind her back and wedging your knee in her spine. Before she could swing back and headbutt you, you shoved her face into the grass.

Your dad taught you pretty damn well.

Rachel screamed and cried for help, but all it did was fuel your ire. You felt crazy and deranged, but you also felt alive too, for the first time in a long time.

Meanwhile, your mom watched in worry from the porch. Her protests weren’t strong enough to reach you though.

“Get off me, you fat ugly bitch!” Rachel screeched.

You saw a nice little brown pile the neighbor’s dog must’ve left this morning. It was just close enough for you to grab (unfortunately) with your bare hand. You pulled her head back by her hair and smeared dog shit all over her face—her cheeks, her forehead and chin. Her shrill screech reached new heights.

The neighbors could’ve been watching with shocked open mouths and iPhone cameras raised high, but you didn’t give even half of a fuck. You did quiet her down though, by shoving her face back into the dirt. The lawn was still nice and damp from the afternoon sprinklers.

“Yeah? You like that? Keep talking shit and I'll break your fake-ass nose, which I helped pay for!” you shouted. “I waited in that fucking lobby for hours while they hacked off the old one. I gave you cold compresses for your swollen, puffy lobster face. Now how about I snap that shit off like you’re Mr. fucking Potato Head?”

She cried as if you were killing her. Dramatic, as always. But eventually she stopped wriggling and thrashing so much, just shaking her head and sniveling. Realizing she wasn’t about to get out of this so easily, she switched tactics.

"Okay." She splayed her hands out the best she could behind her back in surrender. "Okay! Jesus Christ, I'm sorry!"

“Oh, yeah? You’re sorry? What’re you sorry for?” you asked.

"I already told you I fucked him! I fucked your fiancé!"

"No, but you tried to," you seethed. "You just couldn't, could you? Because he's a good man, and you're a lying slutbag. Isn't that right?"

Rachel tried to deny it, but the harder you shoved her shit-stained face into the wet dirt, the more she coughed and spluttered. You eased up just enough for her to nod her head, lips trembling.

“I-I’m sorry. I-I was wrong. I didn’t mean for it to end up so bad,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just let me go—”

Tears began to sting in your own eyes. “Do you know what you actually stole from me?”

Your breaths shook, along with the inner most depths of your soul. You bent closer to her ear.

“Time. That’s what you took from us,” you said, a coarse whisper. “Time we’ll never get back.”

Rachel continued to cry pitiful tears. You almost, almost started to feel bad for her.

But then, you didn’t. Too many memories were rising to the surface.

“Why’d you do it, huh? Danny Mendez wasn’t enough for you?” you said. “Oh yeah, you remember him, back in high school. You made out with my boyfriend the night of my senior prom, bitch!”

Oh yeah, that was a fun little memory to unlock from the brain bank. You realized now that it established a pattern of behavior, one you still couldn't completely understand. It hurt your heart.

“Why?” you demanded through blurry tears. “Why do you hate me so damn much?”

“Because!” she yelled. Her own tears had mixed with the shit smears on her face. Her lips wobbled. “Everyone thinks you’re so fucking perfect! Mom…Dad…he practically worshipped you.”

Your brows knitted together. “No, he didn’t. What the hell are you talking about? He rode my ass all the time! Way harder than he ever did to you.”

Your dad had been a good man, but he'd also been a fucking hardass. A former marine turned LAPD, from officer to Homicide Detective, and finally Captain. In typical firstborn syndrome fashion, you took on the brunt of his expectations, and even resented him for it at times. But you eventually saw the wisdom and the work ethic he was trying to instill in you.

Then again, it would’ve been better for everyone if he had paid closer attention to Rachel. She had been a wild child who even you had a hard time corralling. Your mom was a loving, nurturing person, but unfortunately, not much of a disciplinarian. Your father had too much on his plate at work to wrangle Rachel in as much as he’d wanted.

“Because he believed in you!” she said. “He didn’t just pick at you or criticize you or tell you what to do like you were one of his little soldiers. He talked to you like…like a person. Even…even when he was dying. He only ever asked for you, or for Mom. He never asked for me.”

You heard the resentment and immature selfishness in her voice, but you also heard the hurt. The deep kind of hurt that could make you lash out at others, just to try to mask the pain.

After a long moment of hearing her pitiful sniffles, you sighed.

“He did ask for you,” you admitted. “That day, when you and Mom went out to get coffee, and it was just me and him…I think he knew it was the end. He opened his eyes for the first time in days, and he said your name. His eyes went all around the room, like he was looking for you.”

Rachel’s body shook underneath you. Her quiet sobs of realization reached your ears.

“I called you, but you didn’t pick up. Maybe you had your phone on silent because we were in the hospital… Anyway, a few minutes later, he was gone,” you said. “But he loved you, Rachel. He just hated that he couldn’t stop you from becoming what you are. Selfish. Insecure. Immature and vindictive. A truly heinous combination.”

Rachel had long stopped fighting you. She just cried and shook like a leaf.

You jolted at a touch on your shoulder. You were surprised to find Mark, looking down at you with calm reassurance and a tinge of humor in his eyes.

“All right, sweetheart. Think she’s had enough,” he said.

Rachel gasped and craned her neck up as far as she could. Her eyes went impossibly wide, her mouth falling open in shock to see him.

Mark helped you up with one hand on your arm and another around your waist. He guided you away from your sister. Rachel pushed off the ground and scrambled shakily to her feet. She wiped at her disgusting face painted with three kinds of shit, but shame was what radiated the most when she looked up at you and Mark.

“I…I’m sorry,” she said.

It was the first time you actually believed her. You didn’t say anything, but you swallowed tightly.

Rachel shot one last glance at Lisette, who was teary herself with disappointment. Rachel grabbed her purse off the ground and retreated quickly to her car. You watched her go, releasing a deep breath and the rest of your fury.

Mark massaged the back of your neck, pressing a kiss to your temple. He felt a surge of pride well up in his chest for you. Not just for being a veritable badass and handling your business, but for still having the kind heart he knew underneath.

“You good, Rocky?” he asked with a note of teasing.

Your lips tugged reluctantly at a smile. You wondered how much he saw. How much he heard. All you knew was, you really needed to get cleaned up.

“I don’t know. I might still be a danger to myself and others,” you said, a little slyly as your gaze ran up to his. “Might even need you to restrain me.”

His brows rose, his resulting grin showing teeth. You still knew how to catch him off-guard, in the best fucking way.

“Mark, is that really you?” your mother asked from the porch.

You two had to put a little pin in your game, for now, but his green eyes were full of promise. His lips twitched upward and he squeezed your waist. Then he looked up.

“Hey, Lisette. Been a while.”

When you and Mark ventured up the steps to join her, Lisette welcomed him into a warm, warm hug. The kind that sunk into his bones and made his shoulders feel a little lighter.

She later sighed and pulled away, giving you both a raised brow.

“It looks like there’s more to the story of what happened last year,” she said.

“That there is,” Mark nodded. He shared a look with you, and with your clean hand, you rubbed his back in support. However he wanted to do this, you would back him up.

“Well, we can talk about it over dinner,” Lisette said. She opened the front door to the house, giving a small smile. “I made a pot roast.”

Mark’s face broke into a grin. “Oh, I’m excited.”

You and your mom had the same laugh, like sweet sunshine.

“You remember my pot roast?” Lisette asked.

“’Course I do. With the little potatoes, sprinkle a’ rosemary?”

Mark held the door open for you like the gentleman he was, and he shut it behind him.

AN: Sister, sister, dog shit eater. Amirite? 🤣

I have another Mark fic in this storyverse for you guys next week! I do have more ideas too (especially after watching 1x05 😭), so I plan to continue this little series as we get deeper into the season. 💜

But until then, I'd love to know what you guys think of this one! I think reader and Mark deserve a lot more "making up for lost time" moments lol. And was her confrontation with Rachel everything you wanted it to be? 😂

Next Time:

Your arms wrapped around his waist from behind. A smile began to tug at his lips on reflex. He felt your head resting against his dewy skin. Your hands inched up his chest and playfully teased with your nails. Little sexy scratch. Little kiss between his shoulder blades.

“Go back to sleep, baby,” he said. A teasing note crept into his voice, “It’s too early for you.”

“You got in late last night.” Again. He’d been pulling late hours all week. Whatever case he was on, you had a feeling it was a big one. He still wouldn’t give you any details though. Not even when he was gone for almost two days, coming back smelling like a rancid farmhouse and covered in sweat and grime.

“I want to see you,” you added softly. “Kinda the whole point of me being here.”

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#lovely review! 💕💕#reader appreciation #the wonderful wayne tag 💙#lovely mutuals #zep replies #mark makes us feral #it's fine

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suzukiblu · 2 days ago

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WIP excerpt for Mango Bat behind the cut; “a fake cryptid and a real romantic”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Tim starts with the exterior of the circle–if a summoning circle ever gets screwed up and the wrong eldritch spirit gets summoned, that spirit needs to stay contained–and makes sure to make the pattern exaggerated and obvious. Which–equally obviously, Superboy isn’t going to pick up the Batman’s summoning circle in a night, much less one repetition, but doing the exaggerated pattern is a reflex from when he was teaching Steph.

The Batman’s summoning circle is quick and efficient to draw once someone gets the hang of it, but it’s also very specific, so it’d taken a few weeks for Steph to get it down fully, and it’d taken him a week or so to get it down himself when Dick had taught him. And Dick’s definitely a better teacher than he is and at the time they’d also been seeing each other a lot more often than Tim had been seeing Steph when he’d been teaching her, but also he’d still been seeing Steph way more often than “one date-night patrol a week, maybe”, so it’s definitely gonna take longer to teach Superboy than it took both of them combined, Tim’s sure.

So yeah, probably for the best he’d decided to get started on that one ASAP, come to think.

“Patterrrrrn,” Tim explains as he demonstrates the circle, careful to stop himself from reflexively closing the last glyph to complete it. They just ditched the Batman, for one. “Alllll in . . . orrrrrderrrrr.”

He’s actually not sure how well he’s going to be able to explain this in Robin’s voice, considering when he’d been explaining it to Steph he’d at least been able to turn the vocoder off, but–

“Oh, so it’s like the order of operations? Like the lines’ve all got their own precedence?” Superboy asks as he links his hands together behind his back again and peers down at the almost-constructed circle Tim’s chalked out, and Tim blinks behind Robin’s mask, briefly mystified by the question. That is . . . definitely not a question he thought Superboy would ask him. Like–very definitely not.

Okay, maybe it makes him kind of an asshole, but Tim just genuinely did not expect Superboy to either get what he was saying that quick or compare it to mathematical concepts when he did.

“Uh,” Superboy says, wincing a little. “Sorry, it’s a math thing. Science thing. You . . . probably do not care about those, huh. Uh–like, it just means you gotta do stuff to, like . . . the right pattern, I guess? Like there’s rules for which parts you do first, I mean. Uh. I am making literally zero sense, huh.”

“. . . sennnnnse,” Tim agrees a little slowly, blinking behind Robin’s mask again. It’s not like Superboy’s wrong, but he just really did not expect that to be the comparison Superboy went with, is all.

Well–it’s not like he knows the guy all that well, but still. Just–not the vibe he was getting, really.

“Oh, cool,” Superboy says, looking a little relieved. “Um . . . how do you, like . . . charge it? Turn it on?”

“Clooooose,” Tim says, and mimes the last line of the sealing glyph in the air over where it goes. It doesn’t actually do anything, obviously, because it won’t do anything unless–

“Close?” Superboy repeats, and then reaches out and mimics the line right where Tim demonstrated it.

The circle sparks.

What the fuck, Tim thinks right before the whole circle bursts into flames.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #wip: a fake cryptid and a real romantic #Mango Bat

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sophia-barnes · 1 day ago

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Chapter 1: Static

Summary:

Working as the Thunderbolts’ logistics assistant isn’t glamorous, but it’s never dull—especially when Bucky Barnes is around. You’ve had a quiet crush on him for months, but lately he’s been distant… or maybe you’ve been avoiding him. And that rumor about him dating someone on base doesn’t help.

Content Warnings:

Light angst, mutual pining, subtle emotional miscommunication, reader is self-conscious but confident, Yelena is suspiciously observant, soft tension.

⸻

You knew taking a job with the Thunderbolts would be chaotic, exhausting, and possibly involve a lot of yelling. What you didn’t expect was Bucky Barnes. And definitely not… this.

This thing—whatever it is—where his eyes seem to find you when the room gets too loud. Where he hovers near your desk without ever saying much. Where you pretend not to notice when he walks in, like your heart doesn’t hiccup just a little.

But lately… something’s shifted.

You hear more about him than you see him now. He’s gone for longer stretches, showing up to briefings late, eyes shadowed and far away. He still looks at you—but it’s different. Harder to read. Distant. Like there’s a wall there that wasn’t before.

Which is fine. Totally fine.

You have your own walls.

You’re the team’s assistant—not a handler, not a field agent. You’re the one who makes sure the transport arrives on time, the comms are synced, the right files are printed, and someone brought food that won’t give Alexei indigestion. You coordinate the chaos.

You do not get crushes on super soldiers.

Or at least, you’re not supposed to.

⸻

“You’re thinking about him again.”

Yelena’s voice drags you back to the present like a hook behind your ribs. You look up from the mission tablet and raise a brow.

“No, I’m thinking about how we’re going to fit six people in a four-person jet with weapons and zero personal space.”

“Same thing,” she says, smirking. “Your Bucky obsession is getting louder.”

“He’s not—”

“Don’t lie to me. I’m Russian. I can hear lies.”

You roll your eyes, but it’s halfhearted. “I’m over it. Seriously.”

Yelena stares at you like she’s trying to X-ray your soul.

You sigh. “I was over it… until I overheard a couple agents saying he’s seeing someone. One of the medtech girls.”

There’s a beat of silence. Yelena leans forward on the bench outside the hangar. “He’s not.”

“Okay, but you don’t know that.”

“I do know that. Because I know Bucky, and he hasn’t smiled in like two months. Trust me. He’s the opposite of getting laid.”

You snort. “I didn’t say he was getting laid. I said he was dating someone.”

“Same thing . But even if he was, why does it matter to you? You said you’re over it.”

You press your lips together and hand her the tablet. “Can you check the evacuation routes again? The last GPS pull had Ava landing twenty clicks south of where she’s supposed to be.”

Yelena gives you one more narrow-eyed look before dropping it. “Fine. But this conversation isn’t over.”

With anyone else, you’d redirect easily. But Yelena sees too much. And worse—she cares.

⸻

The mission debrief is exactly as chaotic as you expected. Bob knocks over a chair. John complains about the jet seating. Alexei tries to light a cigar inside the building again, and Bucky

Bucky’s already there when you walk in. Sitting at the far end of the table, arms crossed, jaw tight. His eyes flick to you for the briefest second. You don’t meet them. Instead, you slide into your usual chair between Ava and Bob, pulling your tablet close like a shield.

“Let’s keep this short,” you say briskly. “Ava, your reentry coordinates were twenty clicks off. Did the terrain shift?”

“No,” she says, frowning. “My altimeter was glitching.”

“I’ll flag it for diagnostics,” you nod, typing. “Alexei, your comms—”

“Dead for fifteen minutes,” Yelena cuts in. “He tried to reroute through the satellite dish on top of a grocery store.”

“You said it was smart,” Alexei argues.

“I said it was ‘not entirely stupid,’ which is different.”

A quiet chuckle comes from the end of the table.

You glance up—he’s smiling.

Bucky. Just barely. But it’s real.

And for some reason, that smile hits you like a bruise. Warm. Deep. Fading fast.

You look away.

⸻

By the time the meeting wraps, you’ve already packed up, ready to bolt. You make it halfway to the door when Bob blocks your path with a big, dumb grin.

“Hey! You promised to help me with my personal file thingy.”

“I said I’d help you learn how to open it. Not fill it out for you.”

Bob looks vaguely betrayed. “That’s not what I heard.”

“Do you want your bio to say you’re an ’accidental weapon of mass destruction with mommy issues’ again?”

“…You typed that?”

“You dictated it. I just formatted it.”

Yelena snorts behind him, and Bob groans.

“Fine. I’ll rewrite it. But don’t abandon me, okay?”

“I’ll be in the comms room,” you say, brushing past him. “Just knock.”

What you don’t see is Bucky watching you the whole way out.

⸻

It’s not like you meant to pull away from him. It’s just… safer this way. When you thought maybe he liked you too—maybe something was there—it felt electric. Now, it just feels like static. Like you were wrong.

And being wrong hurts worse than you thought it would.

So you keep things professional. Friendly with everyone else. Distant with him. It’s not a punishment—it’s protection.

Even if it makes your chest ache.

⸻

Later that night, you sit alone in the staff dorm rec room, legs curled under you, scrolling through logistical reports with a lukewarm tea balanced on your knee. You hear the door open and close behind you, but you don’t look up.

Until a voice says, “Didn’t think you’d still be up.”

Bucky.

You freeze.

Then force a smile and glance over. “Night owl perks.”

He hesitates, then walks over, hovering at the end of the couch.

“Mind if I sit?”

You shrug. “Free country.”

He sinks down beside you, but not too close. You can feel the tension radiating off him like heat. You focus on your tablet.

He watches you in silence.

After a minute, he says quietly, “You’ve been different lately.”

You blink. “What?”

“Quieter. Not with everyone. Just… with me.”

You grip the tablet tighter. “I’ve been busy.”

“That’s not it.”

Your jaw tightens. You don’t look at him.

“Did I do something?” he asks, softer now.

That question almost breaks you.

“No,” you say. “You didn’t.”

But it’s not the whole truth. And you know he hears it in your voice.

“Then what changed?”

You finally look at him.

The worst part is, he looks genuinely confused. Like he doesn’t know. Like the idea of you caring at all hasn’t even occurred to him.

And maybe it hasn’t.

You swallow. “Nothing. Just… life.”

“Right,” he says, leaning back, eyes clouding over.

You stand up before he can say more. “I have to finish reports.”

He watches you go without another word.

⸻

You don’t cry. Not really.

But that night, as you lie in your bunk staring at the ceiling, you let yourself feel it. The slow ache of wanting someone who doesn’t—can’t—want you back.

You remind yourself of everything you are. Everything you’ve built. You’re confident. You’re sharp. You’re respected. You like who you are.

But you’ve never been kissed.

Never been loved.

And when you imagine what it would be like—just once—for Bucky Barnes to want you the way you want him, it hurts like a secret you’ll never tell.

⸻

Pt.2 coming soon

It’s my first ever fic; hope you guys like it 🫶

#thunderbolts bucky #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x f!reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes x shy!reader #thunderbolts

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antithetical-bolter · 2 days ago

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Out Of The Woods (3)

Hi besties!! I am overwhelmed in the best way by everyone's kind words and interest in this story. If I had to guess i would say it'll be between 7 and 10 chapters in total, but it's not outlined so we'll see what my lil brain cooks up. There's some more Robby POV in this one bc I felt like it was important to get a little look into his sweet but messed up head, pls tell me if you hate it or if it's unrealistic lmao

5.0k words | Pregnancy continues to wreak havoc on Iris's digestive system. Robby goes to therapy and begins the groveling process.

warnings: nausea, throwing up, unplanned pregnancy, excessive use of the word fuck, commas, and em dashes.

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tag list: @snowflames-world @antisocialfiore @eviemonroeer @princessjayll @sizzlingkryptonitetale @two-bitkit @dizzybee03 @knifetotheback @nerdgirljen @legolas-the-homeschooled-elf @tradingtruthsforlies @robbyrosierobinavitch

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Chapter 3

Iris

Rest is far harder to accomplish than I’d like it to be. Dana checks in on me a few times, and while I haven’t lost what little sustenance I’ve been able to keep down I am still nauseated as fuck. Sleep teases me with three minute stretches, consistently interrupted by nausea and full body sweats. Samira comes in around four and tells me she’s been tasked with seeing if I can tolerate any PO intake, and while I'm not thrilled about the idea I know it’s necessary. The crackers she’s holding up in front of me sounds lovely to my brain and seriously awful to my stomach. A small bite is all I can convince myself to take - and when I immediately start to dry heave we table the problem for the time being.

“Dana and I think you should go home.” Samira tells me as she rubs slow circles on my back. That makes three of us, I swear I can hear my bathroom floor calling my name.

“Yeah I’d love that, but I’m not taking public transport like this and I’m not taking your car either.” The silence expands as she chews on her words before filling me in on whatever plan she and Dana seem to have hatched while I wasted away up here.

“Uh, about that. We have a solution but I’m not sure you’re gonna like it.” She waits to see if I’m going to interject, but I really don’t have the energy right now so I just brace for whatever she’s about to suggest to me. “Jack will be here any minute to send Robby home so he can go to his appointment, he could very easily drop you off on his way there.” She’s right, I really don’t like that idea. But this bed is fucking uncomfortable and all I want is to be able to be miserable in my own space.

“If that’s my only feasible option then I guess that’s fine, but he’s gonna have to pick me up out front. No way I trek through the ED like this.” It’s bad enough that I have to leave early at all - I’m not adding any fuel to the gossip fires that are bound to be raging on the floor below us.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine with that. He’s been on our case about where you are the last few hours, he’s suspicious and definitely freaking out a little bit so I’m pretty sure you could get him to do literally anything you wanted.” God, if fucking only.

“That’s a reeaallly long list, Samira. But we’ll start with picking me up out front and getting some therapy and go from there.” Her phone is already out and I don’t have to look to know she’s texting Dana. We sit in silence for a few minutes, me focusing on remaining upright and Samira texting her co-conspirator back and forth. My eyes are just starting to droop, my head leaning on her shoulder when the door opens again. I expect it to be Dana with my stuff, but it’s Robby. My backpack is slung on the shoulder opposite his own pack and he looks like he ran up here - is breathing like he sprinted up the stairs. The words he’s trying to spit out sound suspiciously like ‘are you okay’ and ‘I’ve been worried about you’ and I just really do not have the emotional bandwidth for that right now, so my sense of self preservation kicks in and I interrupt his half formed statements of concern.

“Alright let’s get this show on the road, I miss my bed.” My legs are a little shaky underneath me as I stand and orient myself to being vertical again but I don’t feel nearly as faint as I did earlier.

“Yeah, uhm yeah the car’s already out front so I’m ready when you are.” Robby stammers out as he comes to stand beside me, apparently not trusting my legs as much as I do. Not unfair but I’m still a little annoyed about it. I turn to face Samira, intending to thank her for all of her help but she beats me to the punch.

“I’ll swing by and check on you after I get off tonight, okay? I’ll just let myself in and come up so you don’t have to move.”

“Sounds good, thanks Samira.” I turn towards Robby as I continue talking, now addressing him. “Let’s get a move on before I puke in your car.” He nods furiously in agreement, and pulls out a few fresh emesis bags from his pocket and hands them to me. Honestly great forethought from him, a simple solution but one that is definitely beyond my own brain's capabilities right now.

We take one elevator and then walk about fifty steps out to the suburban, and it exhausts me. I don’t fight Robby as he puts a hand on my right hip and helps me get up into the car and then reaches around me to buckle my seatbelt. To my immense surprise and even greater relief, I’m dozing before the car starts to move.

I wake up again to Robby opening up my car door, gently coaxing me back into the land of the living. That less than fifteen minute drive was the longest uninterrupted sleep I’ve gotten all day and it was nowhere near enough.

“Hey, honey, we’re at yours. Your bed awaits.” Fuck if that’s not the best thing I’ve heard all day. I accept his offered hand as I slide onto the ground and turn to walk inside. I make it as far as the porch, punching in my door code, so damn close to safety before I lose what little I’ve kept down this afternoon. Robby is quick with the emesis bag and he holds my hair back as puke.

I manage to choke out “I need to sit down,” before I attempt to ease myself to the floor. Attempt being the keyword, because really Robby catches me and brings me down to sit against him as I catch my breath. I always cry when I throw up, but I’m crying for more than that right now. “This is fucking awful, god dammit.” He takes the used bag from my hands, twists it closed and sets it to the side before pulling a package of wipes seemingly out of thin air and wiping my face for me. “Thanks.” I croak out, feeling like speaking is far more effort than it’s worth.

“Maybe I should stay…” He starts to speak, but no way am I letting him miss his therapy appointment for this. Absolutely the fuck not - I’d like for him to continue to take care of me like this but that isn’t happening unless he goes to fucking therapy.

“No, Robby. Help me upstairs and make sure I’m settled and then go to your appointment. Seriously - I will be okay for a bit. It’s already almost five and Samira will be here when she’s off and I promise I’ll sleep in the recovery position. No aspiration risk here.” I sleep on my side naturally, which has really been working in my favor the last few weeks. And honestly if I continue to puke I won’t be sleeping anyway so really it won’t matter.

Apparently I’ve managed to make my voice strong enough to get my point across because he doesn’t argue with me. Just quietly agrees before adjusting so that he’s holding me around the shoulders and under my knees and moves to a standing position. If I wasn’t still quite sick and trying to enforce boundaries with him I would let myself acknowledge that it’s pretty fucking hot that he can move so well while holding me like this - but I am trying to enforce boundaries with him so that thought gets quickly filed away for later use.

Once we make it up the stairs and into my room, he sets me down near the edge of the bed and prompts me to sit down.

“Pick out your pajamas and get changed, I’m gonna go get your bag and make sure you have everything you need up here.” He observes me just long enough to confirm I won’t be passing out on him before he heads back downstairs.

I feel a little better after slipping on my favorite Noah Kahan concert t-shirt and comfy sleeping underwear, enough so that I’m able to stand at the sink long enough to brush my teeth and quickly wash my face.

As I open the door to my bathroom and slowly make my way back to my bed, I take in what he’s brought up for me. A whole pile of emesis bags, a garbage bag for any used ones, tissues, mouthwash (where did he get that??), my water bottle and a bottle of glacier cherry gatorade. He has the covers pulled back and ready for me, and I not-so-gracefully flop onto my pillows. Robby pulls the covers up around my shoulders and kneels down next to the bed.

“Alright I’ve gotta go if I’m gonna make my 5:15 appointment time. I know Samira will be here after shift change but would it be okay with you if I drop in on you on my way home? Would be around 6:30 or so.”

“Uhh yeah sure, I guess. But I won’t be getting up. The door code is 474713. If I’m sleeping, don’t wake me up. I’ll be pissed about it.” He laughs a little bit at that, and I’m glad I’m feeling well enough to joke a little bit. A good sign, all things considered.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll be quiet. I’ll leave my phone on silent during the appointment but if anything comes up call three times an-“

”It’ll override the do not disturb, I know how it works. If for some reason I need someone here that badly I will call three times but I doubt I’ll need to. Go, you’re gonna be late if you stay much longer.”

“I know, I’m going. If you come up with anything you need between now and me coming back just text me, I can stop at the store for you.”

“I will. Thanks, Robby. Now seriously - go. I’m not fucking around about this and being late to your establishing appointment isn’t a great way to start out.” He sighs and nods his head like he’s resigned himself to his fate. His left hand lands on the edge of my bed as he pushes himself to a standing position, running the other over my hair before he turns to leave.

Sleep gives me a measly thirty second taste of relief while he’s gone. It’s the opposite of restful and I’m once again on the verge of tears - this time from exhaustion.

At 6:15 on the dot my phone starts to buzz.

Robby (6:15pm)

Walking out now, you awake? Need anything?”

Iris (6:16pm)

against my will, but yeah I’m awake nothing off the top of my head

Robby (6:17pm)

Alright, I’ll be there soon. Just gotta make one stop on my way.

I thumbs up his text and close my eyes, trying my damndest to fall into a real sleep. It does not happen and by the time I hear my front door open I have unwillingly started crying. Again. I swear - this kid is going to make me emotionally unstable before they even get here. Robby finds me sitting on the edge of my bed, water in hand, sobbing like someone just died.

“Hey, hey, Iris, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” The bed dips as he sits down next to me and puts an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side.

“I’m, i-“ I pause to take a deep breath, but all I can manage is a gasp, “I’m just so fucking tired, but I can’t sleep and I feel like I’m going insane.” A few more sobs before I get the rest of it out. “Everytime I lay down my stomach gets upset again but I can’t get comfy sitting up and all I want is some fucking sleep!” The last part comes out as more of a yell than I intend it to, but Robby takes it in stride.

”That sucks, I’m sorry. Wish I could fix it for you.” My shoulders shrug, and I’m a little disappointed in myself as I realize that him being here is making me calmer. Especially as I recall that the only actual sleep I’ve gotten today was in his car. Fucking pregnancy hormones, making me all soft for the man responsible for said hormones. ”I can’t fix it, but maybe we move down to the couch for a bit? We can sit up and I can rub your back and if you fall asleep on me then I’ll just let you sleep?” Yes, please.

“You don’t have to do that, I’m sure you’re tired and ready to go home.” And maybe if he leaves I’ll feel a little less like he’s the only thing keeping me stable.

”Nah, I’m at least half the reason that you’re feeling like this anyway so the least I can do is stick around and suffer with you if it comes to that.” Or maybe it’s okay that he’s keeping me stable - he is partially responsible for my current state of being, afterall.

“Well when you put it like that… Just let me splash some water on my face and I’ll be down.” And take a few minutes to reign it in - it’s nice that he’s here and showing up but I don’t want to get my hopes up too high.

“Do you want to try and eat? It’s been long enough since your last zofran that you could have another if you wanted.”

“Yeah I should probably try, there’s some of my favorite ramen in the pantry and it’s usually pretty tummy-friendly so I’ll give that a go I guess.”

“I’ll go get it started while you make your way downstairs. Take your time, okay?” I take a fortifying breath and nod against his shoulder before pushing myself into a standing position and walking to my bathroom. Robby stays in the room long enough to make sure I’m steady on my feet, and once I close the door I hear him walking down the stairs and rummaging around in the kitchen. While sitting down to pee I quickly fire off a text to Samira, letting her know that Robby is here and that she can skip the check in visit tonight. She doesn’t respond, likely busy being a doctor and all that, but I know that I’ll be getting the fifth degree from both her and Dana the next time I see them. Five minutes later, bladder freshly emptied and face washed of tears, I slowly make my way downstairs. I expect to see Robby in my kitchen, but I don’t expect to see the massive bouquet sitting on my counter. It’s so big that I have to walk around it in order to make eye contact with him.

“Uh, wow. What are these for?” I can hazard a guess, but I’d like to hear him say it. So much for reigning it in.

”Well I realized that I never actually told you that I’m pretty fucking thrilled about you having my baby, so these are ‘I’m sorry, I’m a fucking idiot and also thank you for giving me the best gift anyone has ever given me’ flowers.” That gets a real laugh out of me, and all of a sudden I’m feeling a lot better. No less exhausted but a little hit of joy gives me a second wind.

“Wow, that’s a pretty loaded bunch of flowers. They’re beautiful, thank you. I tentatively accept your apology.” A visible wave of relief washes over his face as I finish speaking, and it has me feeling pretty damn hopeful. ”And for the record, I’m excited too. Scared out of my fucking mind, but in a good way I think?” He nods and laughs lightly, reaching out to pull me in for a hug with one arm as he stirs my ramen with the other. I go willingly, folding myself into his side. We both take steadying deep breaths - me because I’m exhausted and my emotions have run quite the gambit the last few hours. I can’t speak to why he needs a few deep inhales before speaking, but I can only guess that he’s remembering the last time we hugged and how it ended with me kicking him out and sobbing on the floor of my entryway.

“I’m glad to hear that.” He pulls me in just a little tighter, his arm lightly running up and down my side.

“In a day or two we can talk some more, but tonight is not the night for me to have any heavy conversations if that’s okay with you. Maybe we just put on a movie and eat and then hope I fall asleep?” I want to hear about therapy, as much as he’ll tell me, but I fear if we try to talk tonight that I will either be a bitch or just cry and neither of those are things I want to do. Healthy emotional regulation or whatever.

“Sounds perfect. Go get set up on the couch, I'll bring your meds and food over to ya in just a sec.” I step out of his hold as he moves to grab two bowls for the soup, and as I watch him get everything together for me it’s impossible to squash that hopeful, romantic voice currently making itself known in my head.

Robby

Iris finishes and keeps down the ramen, much to my relief. It’s not uncommon to lose a little weight in the first trimester but it still hurts me to see her feel so terrible. While we eat I turn on her TV and ask what she’d like to have on, but she just shrugs. I make an executive decision and put on Parks and Rec, knowing it’s one of her favorites. This seems to be the right choice as it earns me the biggest, most genuine smile she’s given me in months.

Once she finishes eating I take our dirty dishes and load them into her dishwasher alongside the pot I used to cook. As insurance I grab a few emesis bags and put them within arms reach, though I hope she won’t need them. I’m not sure how much cuddling she’d like to do - I did offer to rub her back while she tries to fall asleep but I don’t want to force her into physical contact if that’s not what she wants. She decides for me, patting the cushion right next to her on the couch. Her legs are extended onto the L shaped portion, so I sit in the middle right next to her. Immediately after I sit down, she leans into me. That seems like invitation enough so I put my right arm around her shoulders and pull her close, resisting the urge to lay a kiss on her hair. I honestly was not sure if she’d ever want to be close to me like this again so I just enjoy the feeling of her pressed against me.

Therapy this evening was just as hard as I expected it to be. Carson, the guy Jack referred me to, seems competent. While I did not enjoy it I can see the benefits and will make an honest to god effort to give it the time it deserves. Seeing how badly my actions hurt Iris fucking gutted me so if this is the solution for making sure I never cause her to feel like that again then I will show up and participate.

It’s been hard for me not to draw parallels between Iris and Heather, and it’s not lost on me that had she decided to terminate the two situations would be even more similar. As I’ve gotten older, I just assumed that kids were not in the cards for me. Jake and I are on better terms but still slightly rocky ground - and after Heather filled me in on the day of Pitt Fest I figured my fate was all but sealed. Iris has been the biggest surprise and blessing, and now that there’s a kid on the way I feel like the luckiest guy on the whole fucking planet.

She caught me off guard, we’ve always been friendly but our shifts have never overlapped all that much due to her having been on nights the past few years. A schedule change right after Pitt Fest last year brought her to days full time and we became fast friends. I’d had a little crush on her for the months leading up to Jesse’s birthday party - but seeing her walk in the door wearing the cutest fucking dress, her hair down and laughing made me realise that my feelings were stronger than I thought. Two drinks gave me the courage to flirt with her, and she seemed to be feeling it as well so going home with her felt natural.

I spent a lot of my session tonight talking about how much I regret leaving that morning, and while I know it’s because I’m afraid Carson made me dig into it a little bit. Being scared is not a feeling I can fix overnight, but I can change my actions. It seems so fucking obvious to me now - but showing up scared is half the fucking battle. So, here I am. Showing up fucking terrified. Scared that she’ll never want to be in a relationship and that co-parents is all we’ll ever be, scared because I'm definitely in love with this woman, scared that these feelings seemed to appear out of nowhere and hit me like a mac truck.

When she’s ready to talk, I’ll tell her whatever she wants to know. But for now, if all she wants is for me to hold her and cook for her, then that’s what I’ll do. Happily and to the best of my ability.

Her voice pulls me out of my head and back into the room.

“Thanks for cooking for me tonight, it’s nice to have you here.” The blush that I feel heating my face is entirely out of my control and I’m glad she’s facing the TV.

“No need to thank me, if anything I should be thanking you for letting me be here.” She doesn’t respond verbally, just snuggles in a little closer and I swear I feel my heart bursting at the seams. “You comfy like this?”

“Eh kinda, maybe you scoot this way so we can at least kinda be at an angle? I’ve never been able to sleep fully sitting up.” I follow her instructions, moving so that I'm fully on the same cushion as her and no longer sitting up completely straight. My legs join hers on the L-shaped extension of the couch and she rearranges so her top half is molded to my side and her legs are tangled in with mine. Sleeping upright is historically not great for my neck, but I will happily endure a little bit of soreness if it means getting to have her draped over me all night.

The next episode of our show plays as she settles in and I toss a blanket over us, and she tells me it’s one of her favorites from the series. Something about the flu and Ann being her nurse spirit animal. Despite that, she falls asleep before the episode is even halfway over. I stay awake a while longer, making it through three more episodes before I decide she’s asleep enough for me to rest as well. If she wakes up feeling sick it will inevitably wake me but it seems like she’s going to be able to continue to catch up on some much needed sleep. I let myself lay a gentle kiss on the top of her head as I silently thank my lucky stars that I have somehow earned her trust enough to be here.

Iris

Fuck, it’s hot in here. My place tends to run cold (because I keep the thermostat at 66 year round) but I am currently sweating like a dog. I peel my eyes open, unwillingly bringing myself back into consciousness. It becomes immediately obvious why it’s so hot in here. Robby is already awake, and I can feel his arm running over my back in very light touches. My head is resting on the junction of his shoulder and neck, and I’m all but on top of him. One of my legs is bracketed between both of his and I can feel the heat seeping out of his hands and into my back. I’m not sure how long I slept, but it’s still dark out so it can’t have been that long.

“What time is it?” I ask him after clearing my throat a few times, sitting forward a bit so I can look at him.

“Uhh, just about 2am I think.”

“Shit, I’m sorry for nap trapping you here for so long, I'm okay now if you wanna go home and sleep in your own bed.” His expression shifts from tired and affection to looking at me like I’ve lost it.

“There’s literally nowhere else I'd rather be. You’re gonna have to pry me off this couch with a crowbar if you want me to go. And besides, seems like good practice for being nap-trapped when our little one shows up.” A sleepy laugh tumbles out of me and he leans over to kiss the top of my head. Between that and him saying ‘our little one’ I’m about to melt into the couch - and not because he’s a human heated blanket.

“I’m so glad to hear that but I really need to pee…” He immediately lets go and shifts to help me up, making sure I’m stable on my feet and pointing me in the direction of my downstairs bathroom. While I’m sitting down, I check my phone to see if Samira texted me back.

Samira (7:47pm) Omg what!! Okay I will go home but call me if you need me. Also expect to give me all the details soon

Iris (2:17am)

He came back after therapy and cooked for me, we fell asleep on the couch and I begrudgingly admit it’s the best sleep i’ve gotten in weeks And he got me the biggest bouquet i’ve literally ever seen

I slip my phone back into my pocket and wash my hands before going back out into the living room. Robby is up and moving, having found two glasses and filled them both with water. He is just finishing his as I come out, and he heads to use the bathroom himself. I drink my water slowly, not wanting to risk waking the beast that is my ever present nausea. A little bit of a rumble occurs just as I finish my first sip but seems to stay at bay after that, so I walk to my pantry and grab a packet of saltines to nibble on.

Robby exits the bathroom to find me eating a cracker with so much caution it’s almost laughable.

“If that stays down, want something more substantial?” I do, I’m actually fucking starving, but I don’t want to get my hopes up.

“Yeah but I’ll let you know, don’t wanna rush it.” He gives me a thumbs up and he refills his water glass and comes to stand beside me. We exist in companionable silence while I work on my cracker and I can tell he’s trying not to stare at me. “What? I can feel you looking at me.”

“Nothing, uh, I’m just really glad you’re feeling better.” I stay silent, knowing that’s not all he has to say but letting him take his time getting it out. “Andyoulookreallygoodinthatshirt” comes racing out of his mouth and it takes me a few seconds to process what he says. Once I do, I lean up and kiss his cheek. He turns tomato red and it’s endearing as fuck.

“Thanks, glad you’re a fan.” I tell him before taking the last bite of my saltine.

“Most definitely a fan.” The t-shirt with just boyshort underwear definitely was not meant to impress him but it’s a nice confidence boost that he’s clearly still attracted to me even after having to hold my hair while I puked.

“Seems like my stomach is going to cooperate for now, and I'm feeling kinda hungry.” “Yeah? That’s great. What do you want?” I mull over his question for a bit before landing on an answer.

“Meh I could go for some more ramen, I don’t really have a lot in the house since I’ve been feeling so shitty the last few weeks. And I don’t wanna ask you to cook for me in the middle of the night.” My parents were solidly in the ingredients household camp, and old habits must die hard because the only things in my pantry and fridge require cooking.

“We both just got 6 plus hours of sleep, I’m gonna be up for a bit anyways. What do you want to eat? I really don’t mind cooking.” I’m very glad to hear him say that, I probably would’ve ended up cooking for myself anyway because apparently my cravings have decided to make themselves known now that the nausea was less in the forefront. And I lowkey hate cooking. Baking? Great. Baking is chemistry - an exact science. Cooking? Based on vibes and estimates? Not my forte.

“Some pasta, I have some alfredo sauce and parmesan. Oh, and some bread! And maybe some pickles.” He smiles and chuckles at my enthusiasm, leaning in to kiss the top of my head.

“I can do that. You go sit, I’ll bring it to you.” He’s looking at me like I’ve never seen before, all soft and fondly. Like he actually wants to be here, cooking for me, far past midnight the night after a shift. I’m inclined to believe him.

#the pitt fanfiction #michael robby robinavitch #dr robby #robby x therapy #robby x original femal character #robby x ofc #michael robinavitch x ofc #samira mohan #dana evans

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charliegyrth · 2 days ago

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Two Fit Foodies

A Gay Gainer Romance

Hi, everyone! This story is based on a reader request from @fatmayor97-blog! Thanks so much for the idea!

(Also, quick update about me: I'm finally 210! I know it's not a lot, but this was my previous high point, so I'm really proud.) Anyway, here's the story:

***

Travis leans across the table and feeds me a bit of his peanut butter cheesecake.

“Oh sweet Jesus.”

“I know, right? Best cheesecake so far?”

I swirl the flavors across my tongue. “Hmm. Better than Etienne’s. Creamier than East/West, but I think I liked that one better overall.”

He smiles. “I was thinking the same thing! So what’s your rating?”

“Let’s say it at the same time. Three, two, one…”

“Four-and-a-quarter stars,” we say in unison.

God, I love him so much. We’re totally in sync. I reach past the plates and hold his hand. I’m so lost in the moment, lost in his eyes (yeah, I know how cheesy that sounds), that I completely forget that my sister is also at the table.

She scoffs at us. “I do not understand you two.”

“We’re not the only couple who bonds over food,” Travis says. He always talks to Carli like he’s explaining fire to a caveman. It annoys the crap out of her, which is why he does it.

“No. I get that. You both have an oral fixation. That’s pretty obvious.”

Travis and I exchange looks.

“What I don’t get is how you can try every dessert in San Diego and still be so skinny.”

First of all, we aren’t skinny. We’re fit. Travis is shorter, with more body hair and a slightly wider structure. I’m taller, more willowy. But I don’t identify with the “skinny” label. That implies a lack of muscle.

But more importantly, enjoying food has nothing to do with body weight. Most of our foodie friends are just as healthy as us. Fat people don’t appreciate food the way we do. They’re out-of-shape because they eat anything. We only eat the best.

“We eat, Carli,” my fiancé explains in his lecture-y tone. “We don’t overeat. And we never snack.”

“Why?”

“Because our taste buds require something better than the processed, chemical-loaded shit they sell at Walmart.”

“So you spend all week starving yourselves so you can go crazy at fancy places like this on the weekends?”

Travis shrugs. She’s not getting it, and she never will. To her, this cheesecake is just as tasty as a $5 slice from 7-Eleven.

No one says anything for an awkwardly long time, so I scoop up my last piece of cheesecake and feed Travis across the table.

***

I carry Travis over the threshold. He’s heavier than usual. He looks the same, but it’s a bit harder to carry him around.

I guess that’s not surprising. We just got back from our two-week honeymoon in Hawaii, where every dinner was a five-star experience. We feasted for hours every day. Now that life is back to normal, he’ll naturally get back to his regular size. We both will.

“Well, Mr. Park-Trammel. How does it feel to be home?” he asks.

“I don’t know, Mr. Park-Trammel. It feels a little different.” I mean that as a joke, but come to think of it… Yeah, the house feels different now that we’re married. This totally sounds cliché, but it really does feel more like a home.

I lead him into the bedroom so we can christen our marriage bed a couple times.

I climb onto the mattress and he strips for me. That’s when I notice that I was wrong before. He does look different. He doesn’t have a belly or anything, but his torso is more solid. His sides don’t narrow before they reach his hips. I don’t think I would’ve noticed if I hadn’t felt his heaviness, but now that he’s shirtless in front of me, that's all I can think about.

My husband’s thick.

And I like it.

Once he gets his pants off, he jumps on top of me.

“Oof.” Yeah, definitely heavier.

***

That night, we’re snuggled on the couch, catching up on the Survivor episodes we missed on our honeymoon.

We’ve been home for six hours, and we still haven’t unpacked our luggage. It’s sitting on the edge of the room, daring us to act like adults and put our beach clothes in the laundry.

Travis’s head is on my shoulder, but I can tell he’s bored. (I’m pretty sure he looked up the winner of this season without telling me.) He sighs.

“Wanna watch something else?” I ask.

“Naw. This is good.” Then he jumps off the couch like an overexcited puppy. He just thought of something. He races toward his suitcase and digs a long, thin object out of the front zipper. “Ta-da!”

He’s holding up a box of Toblerone chocolate.

“Where’d you get that?”

“Duty Free.” He plops back onto the couch.

I’m surprised that he bought chocolate when I wasn’t looking. I’m equally surprised that he wants to snack on the couch. We never do that.

But at least it’s the fancy stuff, not some Hershey’s nonsense.

He opens the box and pops off a wedge. “Open up.”

“Aren’t we gonna save that for a special occasion?” After all, that’s Rule Number One of being a foodie. We never snack just because. We wait till the right moment, and we savor.

“This is a special occasion. It’s our first night as a married couple.”

Technically, our first night was two weeks ago. But it is our first night as a married couple in our own home, so yeah. That seems special enough.

I open my mouth and he gently slides the chocolate onto my tongue.

My God! It’s incredible. I swear I’ve had Toblerone before. How could I not have realized how decadent it is? The sweetness overpowers me, and I love every wonderful second before it slides down my throat.

“I love you, Lowell.”

“Love you, too.”

He breaks off another piece and raises it to my lips.

“I think I’m good,” I say, even though my mouth is literally watering for more.

He brushes its edge against my mouth. “Are you sure? I just want my husband to be happy.”

I take it from him. Same glorious blast of flavor.

He tries to feed me a third piece, but I grab it from his hands and feed him instead.

I was going to tell him about the extra thickness around his middle. (Not as a complaint. Just a heads-up.) But I figure it’s not the best time. Even if the honeymoon’s over, we’re still in honeymoon-mode. We can take a few more days before we settle back into our old routine.

***

I take a bite of the chicken Caesar salad. Why does it taste so good? Travis makes us Caesar at least once a month, and it’s never been this tasty before. We’ve been back home for three days now, and every meal seems better than the last. It’s like my tastebuds are on overdrive now. Because we’re finally married? Because we’re happier than ever?

Travis notices my confusion. “I tried a new dressing,” he explains. “And I doubled the cheese.”

“I like it.”

He smiles across the dinner table. “How many stars?”

“I can’t rate your food like that. Don’t be arrogant.” Our star system is reserved for the best restaurants in town, not just a normal meal on a normal weekday. As a foodie, he should know that we can’t water down our standards.

“Oh,” he says, disappointed.

I feel so guilty whenever he slumps down like that. “I won’t rate you, honey. But I will say, this is the best salad you’ve ever made.”

That perks him up.

For the rest of the meal, we talk about nothing in particular. I tell him about how my coworkers reacted when I gave them their little Hawaii tchotchkes. (Decorated shells and keychains. Nothing fancy.) He tells me about his boss’s weird reaction to his newly hyphenated name. (Don’t ask.)

Overall, it’s not a special meal, but it feels special because I’m with my husband. I end up eating a second serving of the salad. Why not? I guess Travis expected that. He made extra.

And when we’re finished, he clears the table and comes back with a plate of brownies.

“What are these for?”

“Just to keep these honeymoon vibes going,” he says. “They’re from Luvair’s.”

If you’ve never been to downtown San Diego, Luvair’s is one of our top five bakeries. It’s in all the tourist guides. Super-expensive. I’ve only eaten there once.

We each grab one and eat at the same time. It’s good, but it’s not as mind-blowingly good as I expect. I finish the square, really focusing on the combination of tastes in my mouth. “Two,” I say.

“Two and a half,” he counters. Then, realizing what’s missing, he scoots his chair next to mine, grabs another square, and presses it into my mouth.

And there it is. The burst of flavor is back. It’s not just about the taste. It’s about the experience. And when Travis feeds me, that two-star brownie immediately becomes four-star. I let out a moan, which is not something I do unless I’m really impressed by a meal.

He wipes a streak off chocolate off the corner of my mouth. Then, he leans back and opens up, waiting for me to return the favor.

***

Something is very wrong. My slacks are clinging to my thighs and my belt digs into me.

I stare at my reflection and wince. I look exactly the same from my belly button up, but the rest of me is wider. My sides bulge outward and the front of my stomach strains under my button-down shirt. There’s no denying it. I’m getting a spare tire.

It’s been two months since the wedding, I must’ve gained, what? Ten pounds? Twenty? I literally can’t even estimate a number because I’ve never been fat before.

I feel like such an idiot for not noticing. This much weight doesn’t grow on you overnight. It’s a gradual process. I should’ve felt the changes weeks ago.

And I should’ve stopped letting Travis feed me. Before our wedding, sweets were for special occasions. But now, every day is a special occasion. Every night, Travis surprises me with something sugary (usually from Luvair’s). For a while, he’d say things like, “We’re still celebrating the wedding.” Or “It’s like an extension of our honeymoon.” Comments like that gave me the mental justification I needed to give in and take a bite. But he stopped those comments a while ago, and yet, we just kept indulging.

I was aware from the beginning that Travis was thickening up. And I’m totally fine with that. His extra weight makes him look solid. Hunky.

But me? This is not how I’m supposed to look.

I consider switching to another outfit, but I’m sure I’ll have the same problem. All my nicest clothes are meant to accentuate my slim build. None of them will hide this fucking roll.

God. I have a roll.

I trudge into the living room, where Travis is waiting for me. He’s wearing a purple vest that doesn’t button anymore. He smiles at me. “Hey, handsome.”

“Hi,” I mumble.

“What’s wrong? Aren’t you excited to try out their tarte tatin?” He’s talking about the premier dessert at Le Nid Canard. We have reservations there in an hour.

I want to tell him about my fat, but I can’t. For one thing, he knows. He’s probably known for a while, just as long as I’ve known about his changes. More importantly, though, he’s been looking forward to Le Nid Canard for weeks now, and it was a bitch to get reservations. I can’t ruin his night.

So I decide to cheer up, enjoy the meal, and start dieting tomorrow. My body is naturally slim. It’ll go back to normal if I start eating normally again. It’s as simple as that.

***

“What’s wrong?” he asks. “You don’t like it?”

I swallow my last bite of duck confit. He knows I liked it. He heard me moaning. And I’d already told him that it was a three-and-a-half. (He gave it a four, but he’s a bigger fan of duck than I am.) “No. It’s amazing.”

“You have this look. Are you…” He takes a deep breath. “It’s because of our marriage bodies, isn’t it?”

“Marriage bodies.” He’s talking about my spare tire and his torso’s barrelization. (I know that’s not a word, but you get it. He’s getting barrel-shaped.) It’s crazy how blunt he is about this, like it’s no big deal.

“Yeah?”

He reaches across the table and grabs my hand. “Let’s be mathematical about this. Let’s talk about it like we talk about food.”

I don’t understand.

“Look at me. I’m, you know, wider now. If you had to put a star value on how I look, what would you—”

“Five stars,” I say automatically.

He laughs. “Don’t just say that because I’m your husband. Be objective.”

I take a deep breath. “Okay.”

“On the day we met, how many stars?”

“Four.”

“And now?” He pats his solid stomach.

“Four and a half.” I mean that. I can’t explain it, but his bigger frame has boosted his number by a half star. (I know this sounds dumb, and very objectifying, but this is how Travis and I view the world.)

“Thank you. Now, think about last night, when I was straddling you on the couch and feeding you muffins from Luvair’s.”

“Five stars,” I answer. That was a five-star evening for sure.

“I agree.” He squeezes my hand. “And the last question. The hardest question. When you finally realized you were outgrowing your clothes, when you saw your wider hips for the first time, how would you rate yourself?”

“Half.”

“Half a star?”

I pull my hand away. “You want me to be honest. I’m being honest. I love how you look. I love eating with you. But… I don’t love myself right now.”

He nods. He understands.

“How would you, you know, rate me?”

He holds up five fingers, making me instantly guilty for only giving him four-and-a-half. “It looks like you have a choice. The waiter is going to come back soon. I’m going to order the tarte tatin. I already know I’m going to love it. But should I order two or just one?”

It’s a big decision. I know I need to stop myself. If I give in now, I’ll just keep giving in. I’ll get bigger and bigger. I’ll be huge.

But I can’t stop myself. I want to eat with Travis. I need to.

Fuck it. “Order two.”

He smiles. “That’s a five-star answer, Lowell.”

***

I wipe chocolate crumbs off my mouth. I’m sinking into the couch, stuffed and sleepy and very, very content.

Travis squeezes my love handle and jumps off the couch. He always has energy after we feed each other, while I turn into a lump. I don’t get it. We eat the exact same amount.

He’s only gone for a minute. When he strolls back in, he’s holding another plate of brownies.

“But we just… ate those,” I mumble.

He sits back down. “I ordered double this time. Come on. Let’s celebrate.”

“And what are we celebrating this time?”

“Progress.” He pulls up his shirt and traces his finger along the edge of his belly. Last night, his skin grew its very first stretchmark, long, pink, and irregular. It was only a matter of time. His stomach has rounded out a lot in the last month. He’s not barrel-shaped anymore. He’s… spherical, I guess.

(And if I’m being completely honest with myself, he’s finally reached five-star status. He looks amazing. He feels amazing.)

Meanwhile, I’m still conflicted about my own body. Unlike Travis, my weight collects on my hips and sides. I have love handles now. Thick ones. And I’ve upgraded my work pants twice. Instead of spherical, I guess I’m more diamond-shaped. Travis loves it. I’ve accepted it, more or less. Still a little scared.

And this second plate of brownies is reason to be scared. It’s yet another sign that we’re not just enjoying our food anymore. We’re actively, consciously fattening ourselves.

“Aren’t those expensive, though?” I ask, trying to find an excuse to slow down.

“It’s worth it,” he says.

“Maybe we should save them for tomorrow.”

He already has the first square in his hands. He’s itching to slide it into my mouth. “Is this really about the money?”

“No,” I say. “But… yeah. Aren’t those like $15 each?”

“Just take a bite.” He hovers it an inch away from my face, and of course I tear off a bite.

I moan again. Incredible as always.

“Delicious, right?”

“Yeah. But we really can’t afford…”

“Walmart,” he says.

I swallow. “What?”

“I’ve never been to Luvair’s. Or Panucci’s. Or Smoky Chef. All the treats we’ve been eating are storebought.”

“You lied?”

“And you couldn’t tell the difference. So what does it matter?”

I don’t know how I feel. I’m not mad at him. In a way, I’m relieved that we haven’t spent thousands of dollars on desserts. But I have this weird sense of… loss? Yeah, loss. For my entire adult life, I saw myself as a foodie, a guy who can appreciate fine dining when others can’t. That’s how I first bonded with Travis. And now, it’s like I lost my whole identity.

What am I anymore? Just a fat guy who’ll eat anything.

A thousand thoughts whirr through my brain, but I still eat the rest of the brownie. Plus three more. And I still rub Travis’s belly as I feed him the same amount.

I’m still happy. And I’m still in love.

***

It’s a beautiful, breezy afternoon in the park. Travis and I waddle side-by-side. He offers me a lick of his vanilla ice cream and I offer him my mint chocolate chip.

A glob of it plops onto his shirt. He trembles a little as the cold cream seeps through his tank top and reaches his skin. God, he’s cute. Just one little tremble sends waves across his soft body.

We’re weeks away from our three-year anniversary, and we still haven’t decided where we’ll go. It has to be someplace special. Someplace where we can eat and eat without ever running out of food.

Expensive restaurants are out of the question now. We haven’t gone to anyplace fancy in years. The portions are too small. Besides, very few restaurants have chairs that can accommodate my size.

Travis is fatter than me (440 compared to my meager 410), but he doesn’t have the hip-width problem that I do. I get stuck in chairs easily. Small price to pay, I guess.

By the time we reach the edge of the park, our ice creams are both finished. I avoided spilling any of mine, but Travis’s tank is a mess. He’s not embarrassed, though. A bunch of people are staring at us, but it’s not because of ice cream stains. It’s because my dimpled thighs are bursting out of my denim shorts, and because Travis’s sloping moobs are peeked over the edges of his tank top.

I look around. My sister was supposed to meet us here fifteen minutes ago. There’s no sign of her, and my knees are killing me again, so I back into the nearest bench.

Travis, still with more energy, heads over to the Indian fry bread guy near the park gate. As I watch him order, I can’t help thinking about the old me, my skinny, unmarried self. I would’ve been disgusted at the idea of eating fry bread from a park kiosk. Now, I’m salivated and silently praying that Travis will get us each two.

As he’s making his way back, Carli jogs over. She got a new haircut since the last time I saw her. That was, what? Six weeks ago? I wonder if she notices the nine extra pounds I’ve added since then.

“Hey, Carli!” Travis says as joins me on the bench.

Carli crinkles her nose at the pile of Indian fry bread in my husband’s lap. (Four pieces. He read my mind.) “I just don’t understand you two.”

I laugh. “What? It’s delicious.”

“I’m talking about how you invite me to hang out at the park. ‘Let’s sit together and catch up.’”

“Yeah? So?” I ask.

“Does it look like there’s space on the bench for me to sit with you two?”

She has a point. We fill the bench completely. Perhaps this isn’t the ideal location to meet. (Though the fry bread is definitely worth it.)

Carli shrugs. “Whatever. Anyway, I got what you asked for.” She hands Travis an envelope.

Travis takes it, but he doesn’t look happy. “You weren’t supposed to give me these in front of him,” he says between his teeth.

“I know. I just wanted to see him open it.”

“What is it?!” I shout.

“Well, I was saving it for tonight, but…” He hands me the envelope.

I tear it open. There are two tickets inside. Cruise tickets. A two-week cruise!

“Happy anniversary!” Travis says. “I know you wanted something special, and I couldn’t think of anyplace else with an endless supply of cheap food. It’s…”

“Heaven,” I finish for him. I pull him close and kiss him. The fry breads almost fall off his lap, but he catches them.

Carli walks around the park for a bit, giving us some alone time as we sloppily make out.

“Are you happy?” Travis asks as his hands sneak under my shirt.

“Five stars.”

The End

Thanks for reading! I’m planning to continue this story with a more erotic-focused sequel set at their cruise, but I probably won’t get to that for a while.

Anyway, check out a list of all my stories here.

#male wg #gainerfiction #gainerstory #gainer stories #gainer fiction #gainer story #feeder fiction #gainerstories #weight gain fiction #gay feeder

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loceiswhereyouleastexpectit · 3 days ago

Text

Soon enough - Chapter 3

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

Word count- 2.6k

a/n: I need you guys to bare with me, this is def gonna be all over the place for a while but you'll see the vision. Thank you for all the love so far, if you have any recommendations of where u want this story to go please feel free to share. Enjoy :)

Chapter 3

Azzi POV

What the hell is wrong with me? I need to get out of here. I should have move my hand three freaking years ago. Omg. She knows, she can read my brain. Fuck I can’t pull away now, she’ll know. Its ok Azzi ur ok, we are almost there.

Soon enough Paige pulls right in front of the frat house. Azzi immediately jumped out, not even thanking her best friend for the ride. She needed some space, she needed to think and honestly she needed a fucking drink. Caroline was walking right beside her instantly catching a weird vibe from her. “Azzi, what’s up girl, u look so tense” carol asked.

“Nothing, just weird day yk”.

“Yea I guess but thats why were here, we have been working nonstop, we all deserve a break”.

“For sure” said slowly but all Azzi could think about was Paige, how she just abandoned her back there with nothing, not even a thanks. She felt guilty and knew that Paige had always been the kindest person to her, she deserves everything in this world, not a confused best friend. Just as she was walking though the frat hours door, she turned her head, making sure Paige was ok, however, she was still at her car. “Oh lord this is gonna be fun…” Azzi whispered. She just hoped her best friend wasn’t as confused as she was.

As soon as she and carol entered the frat party, there was so much chaos. Loud music, bodies dancing, and drinks everywhere. Exactly what Azzi needed in this moment to forget about Paige.

Carol and her grabbed drink right away and went to go look for the rest of the team. They quickly saw Aubrey and made there way over.

“Hey guys, you all look great” Aubrey said. “Where the rest of them, I thought Paige took y’all”.

“She’s around” Caroline stated, however when carol said around she really meant around, around the fucking corner surrounded by a bunch of girls already. OF COURSE, thats just perfect.

In that moment Azzi decided to drown out all her emotion in alcohol, hoping to distract from the confusing feelings of the blonde. The brown eyed girl was not a drinker, but tonight was definitely an exception.

She sat with the team and began to realize that no matter what, as long as the drinks kept coming she would have a good time.

——————————————————————————————

A few hours had gone by and at this point Azzi was slightly wasted, more than most of the frat guys. She was having fun, laughing hard, and most importantly not thinking about the blue eyed girl only 50 feet from her talking to some girls. Nika and Ice had been having a very heated debate when a man came approaching there table. He was tall almost 7ft and very much built, he had dimples and fluffy brown hair with the biggest green eyes ever. He was attractive alright and no one could really ignore it.

Nika immediately saw him and hoped he was coming there way for her but instead he stopped right in front of Azzi.

“Hi, im Kyle, i just had to come over and say your beautiful. I hope thats not weird.” He said shyly.

It caught Azzi off guard, he was sweet. She definitely wasn’t opposed to talking to him so she said “Hi, im Azzi, wanna grab and drink?”

And with that he extended his hand and walked to get a drink from Azzi.

To be honest, Azzi knew that this wouldn’t go anywhere but what’s the harm in talking to a guy for a bit.

However, the harm was Paige Bueckers heart.

Paige POV

Paige decided she wanted to be sober tonight. No more distractions, she was finally going to get the girl. At least thats what she hoped. However the problem with wanting your girl is that everyone wants her to.

It has been a few hours since they all had arrived at the party and from the start Paige was surrounded, to be fair she did have a breakout game the other game so the attention was more aggressive that usual. She had a lot of people giving her drinks which she respectfully declined because she knew this season she needed to be healthy, strong.

Azzi and her had talked about that this past pre season, wanting to actually take care of there bodies, worried that if they didn’t injuries might take over.

But when Paige finally got away from the grasp of the crowd she looked for her best friend, confused that she was no where to be found by the team.

“Hey guys, have you seen Azzi?”

“Yea, uh some guy came over, they went to get a drink” Aubrey replied, Nika and KK gave Paige a little head nod, in hopes to encourage the girl to not back down this time.

“Thanks”, and just as she walked away, Nika joined by her side.

“Im not letting you give up this time Paige, its time”.

“IK IK, the time just slipped away, and everyone was so excited to see me, I guess I have been in isolation so long, haven’t done social outings in a minute”

“Paige, that fact that you referred to a party as a ‘social outing’ gives me all I need to know. You’ve been so caught up in Azzi, you forget about everything else. If she doesn’t want to go out, you dont either, and then you miss out. You can’t do that anymore. I know you love her but this cant continue dude”.

“Can we just find her and if I chicken out, thennnnnn you can lecture me?”

“Ok”.

Paige and Nika didn’t have to look long, as they made there way to a smaller living room they say the two, drinks in hand. Azzi’s legs draped on top of the guys legs, him running his hand on her calf. It was sickening to say the least.

Immediately Piage turned around, not wanting to see this anymore, but Nika knew she needed to do this. She pushed Paige forward, just enough to get a “UH” out the girl, which got the attention of the brown eyed girl.

Wow she looked perfect, slightly tipsy for sure, but in a way that made her eye bigger and her cheeks flushed.

“Hey Paige, you ok?”

“Yea, can I steal you for a second, sorry”, she said looking at the guy.

“Of course, sorry Kyle, thanks for the drink, and the company”. She said sweetly. She never once disrespected anyone, even if there was a reason to. On the court she was as calm as ever, and nothing is more frustrating than playing rough basketball, but Azzi never complained. Always keeping her composure and her kindness.

“What’s up P?”

“Nothing, I just needed some Azzi time yk”, why would u say that omg, she’s gonna think your obsessed with her.

“Yea me too, missed you”.

Oh ok cool.

“Wanna go outside, its just a lot in here”.

“Yea, are your headaches coming back, I know you get overwhelmed when your in loud spaces, it might be your headache”.

“Honestly now that I think about it, yea, my headache is coming back”.

“I put some Tylenol in your car earlier, here come,” the younger girl said and grabbed Paige’s wrist, weaving there was though some crowds and eventually to the passenger side of Paige’s car.

As soon as they got to Paige’s car, Azzi reached into the girls pocket and grabbed her keys to unlock the door, the pocket right by her thigh. It immediately sent a jolt right up Paiges spine and she had to back away, Breatheeeee Paige, she barely touched you.

Then Azzi leaned into the passenger seat and went digging for the Tylenol, leaving Paige a perfect view of her butt, she immediately looked away. This still was her best friend, respect, Paige.

Azzi finally found the Tylenol and opened the bottle giving Paige two pills.

“Shoot I dont have water, ill go back inside”.

“No”, Paige said holding Azzi back from her waist, “I can swallow dry”.

Paige took the pills from Azzi and popped them in, keeping eye contact with the younger girl for much longer than necessary. Azzi’s lips looked perfect, nice and plump, reddish from her lipstick earlier, but most importantly there were attached to the most beautiful and kind girl in the world, and nothing could beat that.

Azzi began to form a soft smile and reached up and started gently rubbing the sides of Paige’s head with her thumbs, it was something she used to do a lot back when Paige had chronic headaches. The younger girl always did it right.

“Mmmm thanks”, Paige said and she began to close her eyes, she started leaning forward and was met with Azzi forehead.

They both stood there forehead to forehead, just soaking in each other company, both girls thinking the same thing, neither of them knowing it.

I could stay here forever.

Slowly both girls started to open there eyes. Azzi now moved her hands down to Paiges shoulders while Paiges hands remained at her waist. There was a twinkle in Azzi eyes that Paige had only seen a few times before, but the fact that is was directed towards Paige made her weak at the knees.

“Hey, you feeling ok?”

“Yes better, thank you”

“Ofc that’s what friends are for,” FRIENDS.

“Azzi?”

“Yes Paige.”

“Thank you, seriously thank you. I-I just love you so much. Your the best person in the world, your alway so kind to me, I just have never trusted anyone the way I trusted you”.

“I-i love you too”.

Azzi POV

SHE TRUSTS YOU. She trusts you more than anyone and your over here fansticing about her abs and her arms and all she did was trust you. Azzi realized it was unfair to ignore her BEST friend. Even if her feelings were complicated, she would not let that get in the way of there friendship. However saying those words, those three little words felt different to Azzi this time.

“Azzi, you look beautiful btw, idk if anyone has told you that today”.

And there her heart went again, a slight gasp escaped for her mouth and she knew, these feelings were just starting to wrap around her heart, leaving her to suffocate.

“Thanks P, you look good too, too good”.

“Too good?” Paige responded with a sly smirk on her face.

“Yk what I mean, those girls were all over you."

“Jealous Az?”

“No” Yes.

“Well you have no reason to be, ill always be your best friend. No one can take me away from you”.

And that was true, for the next few months the two girls were more inseparable, both knowing there feelings for one another, neither mentioning it, but always knowing that being in the confront of the other was all that they wanted.

“Hey, do you wanna just chill in you car until everyone else is ready to leave, ik ur head still hurts.”

Paige’s head no longer hurt so she said “Yes”.

The two girls made there way into the older girls car, turning on the heat and the music. The car flooded with “Nobody Gets me” by SZA and both girls just looked at one another, knowing that this song was there’s. It perfectly resembled how they felt not in just that moment, but in most moments, never feeling misunderstood by the other.

The night had ended with both of the girls just sitting in the car, talking, about nothing, and also everything, just as they did every single day. Neither getting tired of being in the presence of the other.

——————————————————————————————

Paige and Azzi woke up the next morning in Paige’s dorm, just like most nights they were not able to fall asleep without each other and always made it a plan to end up cuddled next to one another. However Azzi woke up way to early. Seeing Paige wrapped up next to her made her heart beat just a bit harder than normal.

Omg Azzi now is not the time please, she’s your best friend, she’s your best friend, she’s your best friend.

And because she was her best friend, Paige felt Azzi’s heart beat out of her chest, all of a sudden waking her.

“Hey, Paige said groggily, “You ok, nightmare?.” Paige sat up looking straight into the brown eyed girl.

“Hi, sorry to wake you, yea.”

“Was it the same one?”

Azzi had had a recurring nightmare for the past few months. She had the ball, it was the national championship and there was 6 seconds left on the clock, they were down by two. All she needed was a heave up a three, 3, 2, the ball left her hand and it looked good from afar, but as soon as the buzzer hit, the ball had just rimmed out the basket. They had lost all because of her.

When she told Paige about her dream she said “I would never put that pressure on you to take that shot, if for whatever reason that happens, pass the ball to me and let me take the blame”.

It wasn’t that Paige didn’t trust her to take the shot, it was the pure selflessness of Paige, she never wanted anyone to feel like if was there fault, so she always took that pressure away, making it her problem.

“Yea, same one”, she lied, she couldn’t tell her best friend that the reason her heart was going crazy was because she looked so good and was so kind and made her feel like she had fire on her every time they touched.

“Come here” Paige said, just as she pulled down the younger girl back to bed, however, this time this was actually the worse case scenario. Having Paige all over her made her even more fidgety.

I need to get out of here.

“Actually” Azzi said all of a sudden, popping out the bed, “Im gonna go on a run”.

“Its 6 am?”

“Yea ik, just need to clear my mind for a bit.”

“You sure, we can talk about it, im not tired.”

“Paige go back to sleep, I know you tired”, she walked over to the blue eyed girl and smoothed out her hair. “Ill see you later ok?”

“ok, text me when you get back to your dorm.”

“I will promise. Bye Paigey” and just as she was about to leave, she turned back real quick and gave a quick peck on Paiges cheek, earning a smile from the older girl. It was something they did a lot, just to ensure the other that they were ok.

Azzi walked through the door and felt fire on her lips, she brought her finger to her lips, feeling them tingly all over. What is happening to me, She thought, but before she can slip free, she caught Nika in the kitchen.

“Hey” Azzi said.

“Hey Azzi, everything ok with you and Paige?”

“Yea ofc why wouldn’t it be?”

“Oh no just asking, your leaving earlier than normal”.

She’s right, im being weird, stop being weird. “Yea, I know, just have some things to do this morning”.

“Right ok, well see ya later”.

“Bye Nika” and she walked out the door without another word.

I miss Paige already. Was the first thought that popped into Azzi’s head as soon as she exited the door. Omg I need to get a grip.

That day a few things were certain, Azzi was slowly falling in love with her best friend, Paige was never going to do anything about it, and Nika would make it her mission to get the two together.

#paige x azzi #pazzi fics #pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi35 #azzi fudd #love

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kxsagi · 3 days ago

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Just an ask. In this fantasy au, out of bllk guys who is most likely to kill someone who stole their s/o by giving them love potion/spell that hypnotized them into loving them?

my answer is pretty simple: rin freaking itoshi.

why rin:

this man already has a rage switch that flips when things don’t go his way, especially when it comes to being second choice. the thought of someone magically cheating the system to take you from him? unforgivable.

the idea that your love wasn’t real, that your affection was puppet-stringed out of you, would send him into a spiral. he wouldn’t cry. he wouldn’t beg. he’d go silent, methodical, cold.

he wouldn't even kill in a fiery rage. he’d wait. study the enemy. understand the magic. and when he strikes, it’s swift, clean, terrifyingly efficient. the kind of killing that feels like justice.

and then he’d work himself to the bone trying to reverse the spell. he'd never forgive himself until you're you again. and even then, he’d still look at you like he’s afraid you’ll slip away again.

honorable mentions:

kaiser

he’d definitely kill someone over you, but not in a dramatic revenge way, more in a “how dare you think you could touch what’s mine?” kind of way. a flashy duel at sunrise, arrogant grin on his lips, and no mercy once you’re crying someone else’s name under a spell.

would brag about it afterward. "you know, most people don’t survive challenging a king."

kunigami (post-wild card)

extremely moral… unless the crime is you being stolen by dark magic. this is his villain origin. the only time he’d say: “justice means nothing if i don’t get her back.”

emotionally dead-eyed as he takes them out. silently walks away into the rain. no one talks to him for a week.

shidou ryusei

chaotic evil. might help the person make the potion just to see what happens, until he realizes you actually fell for them. then it’s murder. messy, loud, explosive.

“you think you can play house with her while i’m still breathing? cute. now bleed.”

nagi seishiro

wouldn’t seem like the type… until he realizes the potion robbed him of the only thing he actually cared to fight for.

he'd kill them in a dream realm. like, trap them in some endless illusion of heartbreak until they die from it. lazy execution, but terrifyingly powerful.

#kxsagi's mailbox 💌

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thought-you-knew · 3 days ago

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what more could i want

Summary: things were going great until you started having doubts about your friendship with bob. whether or not you or bob are ready to cross that line.

Pairings: bob reynolds x fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, slight angst, emotionally constipated reader/ avoidant attachment, slow burn, friends-to-lovers. limited use of y/n, reader's appearance isn't described. not proofread

Author's Note: Hi! I accidentally deleted this blog when I was doing some old tumblr clean out. This is not plagiarized. I know that previously, some people wanted a part 2, and it will come, slowly. Please bear with me. This is the first time I've written fanfiction since my one direction days, and that was a lifetime ago. I have part of pt. 2 written, but I'm still unsure where to go with it.

I also reuploaded the pb&jj roommates au

Who knew a name could hold so much meaning to you, and how much a name could change everything. Bob, how has such a simple name managed to become so deeply intertwined with your very being so effortlessly? Almost as if it was meant to be there from the very start.

"Are you even listening to me?" You tear your gaze away from the open skies and look over to the pilot's seat. Yelena is already looking at you. More like staring through you.

"Hmm?"

"What's with you lately? Your mind always seems to be," she waves her hand in the air, "not focused."

You look away from her piercing gaze. "It's nothing."

"Liar. I thought we promised each other no more lies."

"Lena, I'm just exhausted from the mission. That's all, promise." You try giving her your best fake smile. Which she obviously sees right through. It's a partial truth, partial lie. The mission had lasted longer than expected, and seeing as it was just you and Yelena on this one. It felt like you two did twice as much work.

"You know what I know," Yelena comments back while turning off the autopilot and taking over the controls.

"What do you think you know?"

"That Bob misses you." That simple statement makes you freeze, while your heart races a bit. You glance at her and see that she has a smug look on her face.

"Bob misses whoever is gone on a mission."

Yelena lets out her deep, throaty laugh. "Oh yeah, he definitely misses Walker when he's away for weeks at a time. Wanna try again?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"Just admit what you've been denying these past few months."

You start picking at your nails. "We're friends. That's it."

"And that's why you're a bad liar."

A few hours later, you and Yelena are finally back at the Watchtower. Yelena turns to you when you're both in the elevator. "Don't worry about the report. I'll handle it."

"Yelena-"

The elevators open, and Yelena gives you a slight shove. "Go see your man." The doors slide shut before you can protest. Turning around, you see that the open common space is mostly unoccupied.

"Hey! Look who's finally back. Thought you died or something." You brush off John's comment. Too mentally drained to deal with the usual back and forth. You head for the open kitchen and see that Ava gets up and follows you.

"How was Istanbul?" She asks once you've managed to chug down some water.

You raise your eyebrows at her. "Fine, and when are you one for small talk?"

"I'm not. Something happened while you and Yelena were gone."

That caught your attention, and your mind immediately went to Bob. Is he okay? Is he hurt? Even though technically he can't get hurt, there's still a possibility. Everything was going so well. He's been doing so much better. What had happened within 3 weeks?

Ava placed a hand on your shoulder to ground you. John had wandered into the kitchen and leaned against the counter, watching you two.

"Geeze, don't make it sound like that," he had a slight smirk on his face, "don't worry, your boyfriend is okay."

"He's not my boyfriend." Some of the tension was leaving your body. Bob's fine, everything is fine.

"My bad, boy who's just a friend."

You turn your attention back to Ava. "So, what happened?"

You find yourself standing in front of Bob's door. Hand raised, but hesitant to knock. Your mind goes back to the brief conversation with Ava in John. It's no big deal, everything is fine. This changes nothing. Why did Ava and John make it seem bigger than it was?

Just as you're about to knock, voices from the other side stop you.

Two voices.

One is Bob's, low and quiet, yet still self-assured.

The other was a girl's voice.

A sudden barking and scratching at the door makes you move back and almost run.

"Oh, someone must be on the other side." The girl's voice says, and the door is swung open. Two things happen simultaneously. One, a fluffy brown and white dog leaps at your chest, and two, a girl with glasses and a long braid meets your eye.

Bob rushes over, his concerned face changes once he sees it's you. The girl moves back slightly so Bob can grab the dog's collar, said dog is still trying to lick your face.

The way Bob says your name makes you wanna run and hide away. "You're finally back."

The dog has finally calmed down and is panting happily while keeping a fixed gaze on you.

"Yup, just landed." You're gaze meets the girl's, and you can't help but feel a twinge of annoyance.

Why was she in Bob's room? Since when did Bob let random people in his room? Does Bob feel more comfortable with her than you? What exactly happened within the three weeks you were gone?

"I'm Beth," The girl said, holding out her hand. "I'm one of the trainers at the dog shelter."

Bob watches as you quickly take her hand, give it a firm shake, and quickly drop it.

Beth turns back to Bob with a slight, shy smile. "I should probably head out. Are we still on for tomorrow?"

"Yeah, and Gus too."

You watch as the two exchange a few more words, and then Beth is leashing up Gus, and the two are off. One thing you do notice is that Beth is wearing a very familiar scarf.

"Shall we?" Bob's voice startles you, and you're being pulled back to his presence. You look at him and see that he's gesturing back towards his room.

You find yourself feeling cautious, like the first time you entered Bob's room all those months ago. You stare into his room, almost feeling like you shouldn't enter. Bob says your name again, this time a little hesitantly.

"I'm actually tired." Your voice sounds vacant and faraway.

"Oh...yeah, no yeah. Long mission and all that." Bob says with a slight chuckle. You avoid his gaze and start to head back down the hallway.

Bob says your name again, and you wish he wouldn't in that tone. A tone that holds such care and almost a longing. You plaster on your best smile and turn back to face him. Bob moves closer and gazes at your face. You hold your breath and wait. Your eyes move across his face as well.

He moves a bit closer. You notice how much his hair has grown in the last three weeks. His hand raises up to tuck a stray bit of hair behind your ear.

His touch is warm.

"Do you-"

"Hey, Y/N." Mel's voice calls from the other end of the hallway. "I know Yelena is working on the report, but I need to double-check some things with you."

You pull away first and head towards her without looking back.

"I can't believe Bob has a dog," Yelena says, lying upside down on your bed. Ava is camped out on a bean bag a few feet away. "Also, who the hell is Beth, and why is she always here?" Yelena looks over at you, but your face remains void of any emotion.

"I mean, it's good that he has a dog," you reply, "I know animals help when it comes to emotional support. Look at Bucky and Alpline."

"Yeah, but Alpine didn't come with a Beth." Ava chimes in.

You roll your eyes, somewhat regretting this girl's night.

"Guys, it's fine."

Ava and Yelena share a look. "Say it's fine again and mean it this time."

"Also, if it's fine, why have you been avoiding Bob?"

"Oooh! Good point! Answer, please."

You stand from the bed, making both of them sit up.

"Guys, it's not a big deal. I think it's great that Bob is expanding his social circle. Also, there's no avoiding whatsoever. Bob's busy with Gus and therapy. And I'm busy-"

"Avoiding him and Beth, we know." Yelena interrupts.

You grimace, thinking back to the past week. So maybe you have been avoiding Bob. But you can't help it. Three's a crowd, and you're not a fan of watching Beth not so subtly flirt with Bob. Either Bob is oblivious as hell when it comes to Beth's advances or-

No. You don't want to think about the or. At the same time, you feel slightly guilty for feeling jealous. It's not like you've admitted your own feelings out loud. You don't know if you will now.

Not with Beth hovering around.

"Just talk to him."

And you do finally talk to Bob.

A week later.

Only Beth talks to you first.

You're half watching a show that Yelena has abandoned when Beth approaches you.

"Hey, do you have a sec?" Her tone is hopeful.

You mute the show and look up at her. She sits down a few cushions away, and you notice that she's wearing that scarf again.

Your scarf. Your scarf that you left in Bob's room the night before leaving for your mission with Yelena.

"...you know what I mean?" It takes you a moment to realize that Beth has continued talking, not waiting to see if you've been listening. "like I know he's been through a lot, but I can see a lot of improvement with him and Gus."

Been through a lot is an understatement, but you don't say anything.

"Do you think he's ready? Or am I coming off as too pushy? Sometimes I feel like he might like me back, but I can't be sure."

That does get you attention. "Ready for what?" But you already know what she's talking about.

Beth shoots you a slightly peeved look. "Y/N. Bob, what do you think I should do?

"Uh..."

She scoots a little closer to you, her gaze imploring. "Bob talks about you a lot. I mean, you are one of his closest friends. So, I thought you could give me some advice on how to ask him out without scaring him off."

You take her in, her eyes wide and hopeful. The expression reminds you of one that Gus has given the team members during meal times when he's hoping one of them will drop some food by "accident".

Feeling like you're not fully committed to this conversation. Beth reaches out and takes your hand. "I really like Bob."

So do I

You gently withdraw your hand and turn to fully face her. "Look, I can't speak on Bob's behalf, but just be patient with him."

Beth isn't satisfied with that answer." Okay, but do you think he likes me back? What about his past relationships?"

This was heading towards a red no zone.

"You've only known him a few weeks-"

"I know, I know. I should be asking him that, but it's too soon for that, ya'know? And since you're such close friends..."

Your mouth moves before you can think. "You want me to him if he-"

Beth lets out a squeal and hugs you. "Oh my god, that would be amazing!"

The only thing you can focus on is the soft material of the scarf brushing against your neck.

It's late. Too late to be up, but your mind can't quiet down. Which is why you find yourself standing in the semi-darkened kitchen, aimlessly scrolling through your phone. Deciding whether or not you should make something.

You're just about to call it a night when Bob enters the kitchen. Half asleep himself. You're both caught off guard by each other, so the only thing you can do is stare.

You notice that Bob isn't wearing one of his usual sweaters. He's wearing a white fitted t-shirt and grey sweatpants.

"Did you finally overheat?" You try to ease the slight awkwardness between the two of you.

Bob looks down as if almost forgetting what he put on. He tugs at the bottom of his shirt as if it will magically turn oversized.

"Oh..uh, this? I think this is Walker's. There was this laundry mishap involving him and Alexei. Long story short, they managed to break more than one dryer. So...yeah," He gives a slight laugh before looking back up. "it was either this or one of Alexei's obnoxious Avengerz tracksuits."

"It looks good on you." You say before thinking, and you catch Bob's slight change in expression, from apprehensive to relieved, to something else. Something you chose to brush off.

There's still a slight awkwardness in the air. The last time there was an awkwardness between the two of you was when Bob was still adjusting to the team.

"Couldn't sleep?" His question echoes back to the first time he found you in the kitchen at the dead of night.

"Do you wanna go for a walk?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

The city is surprisingly quiet at 3am. You and Bob stop at a park near the Watchtower.

"This is nice," you motion towards the empty park, "Gus would've liked this. Why didn't you bring him along?"

It takes Bob a little too long to respond, but when he does, his words make your heart beat faster.

"I don't need him when I'm with you." You look over, and Bob is already looking at you with a soft expression. Some small voice in the back of your head tells you to reciprocate.

Instead, you think back to Beth and the scarf. Why does she still have your favorite scarf? Does Bob know that it's your favorite? That's a stupid question, of course he knows, you wore it all the time. So why give it to her like that? So easily.

Instead, you panic, withdraw, and deflect.

"Beth seems nice, and she's good with Gus."

"Yeah, I guess so."

Ask him, Beth's question floats around in your mind.

"I think Beth has a crush on you."

Bob lets out a semi-loud laugh. "Oh, you think?" You look over and see that he has a slight smirk on his face. Okay, so he wasn't that oblivious. Which makes it worse. "Beth is nice and all, but... I dunno."

You can't stop yourself. "Do you like her?" What you've been wanting to ask is why does she have my scarf?

"Why? Where is this coming from?" You can see him staring at you from the corner of your eye. You don't dare to face him. Instead, you keep your gaze fixed on a distant lamp post.

"I'm your friend."

"And?" He pushes gently.

You can feel a lump forming in the back of your throat. "And what else is there? If you like her, consider asking her out. Only if you're ready for that."

"Like I said, she's nice. But I'm trying to keep my options open."

You scoff. "What options? Robert, are you trying to tell me you've been sneaking around these past few weeks?"

"N-no nothing like that. But ya-know, there are always other... options."

"Well, there's her or someone from the team," you give a dramatic gasp, "Bob, don't tell me it's..."

Bob sighs, hangs his head low, and jokingly responds. "You caught me. There is something between me and Walker. We're in love."

You lean over and give him a playful shove. "Knew it. Enemies to lovers at its finest."

"What about friends to lovers?"

You catch his eye and give a small smile. "That's another good one. People love a good friends-to-lovers story."

"Really?"

"Yeah, what more could they want. It's romantic."

"Huh." Silence falls between you two, but this time it isn't awkward. Just calm and peaceful.

#bob reynolds x fem!reader #bob reynolds x reader #bob reynolds #bob reynolds imagine #thunderbolts #mcu #marvel

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sinfiction · 1 day ago

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Hey There, Roomie

Mark Grayson/Reader | Interactive Fic

Warnings: None, NSFW

Mark Grayson was the best roommate a broke college student living off-campus could ask for. He seemed… sweet, if a little guarded—the kind of guy you could trust to share a living space with. You never would have expected that he was a literal superhero... if he hadn't accidentally flown in through your window one night while your were stark naked in the middle of a little... self love. You definitely never expected him to stay.

When you decided to rent an off-campus apartment for college, you really weren’t trying to have a guy roommate, but when Mark Grayson answered your ad, you decided to give it a go.

He seemed… sweet, if a little guarded—the kind of guy you could trust to share a living space with.

And it turned out to be a pretty good decision on your part. Mark’s not the perfect roommate—he’s been known to leave a mess here and there, and you find yourself doing the dishes he leaves around more often than not, but in the grand scheme of things you could definitely do a lot worse in the roommate department.

Over the months that you’ve been renting together, you and Mark have become pretty good friends. When neither of you are buried in homework—and sometimes, even when you are—you have a blast kicking his ass at Mortal Kombat, or lying on the living room floor with him, watching some shitty B list horror movies over pizza and ice cream…

Because you’re both broke college students and you’ve yet to buy a couch.

But there’s still a lot you don’t know about Mark.

For example, where he disappears to after that weird pager sounds off… It’s not really your business—like, at all—but if you didn’t know any better you’d assume he has some weird government black ops job.

Hell, he’s come home beat to hell more than once. A lot more than once, to the point where you’ve started keeping a pretty robust first aid kit in the bathroom to patch him up when he drags himself through the door looking like he’s halfway to death’s doorstep.

You’ve asked him a grand total of once, but… he made it very clear that it’s not something he can tell you about. Anything about. The look in his eyes was impossible to argue with, so you finished up his stitches and minded your own business.

Besides, it’s not like Mark stays hurt for long. You swear he must have some kind of mutant gene with how quick he bounces back.

Maybe he’s a superhero…

Ha. No. There’s no way you’d have a superhero for a roommate… they have like, headquarters, you’re pretty sure.

All in all, he’s a pretty great roomie, and you’d never do anything to jeopardize that.

Which is why, under no circumstances, do you… give yourself a little self care while he’s home. You’re not exactly known for cumming quietly, and you’re pretty sure you’d die if he heard you.

Partly because… you have an insane crush on him. A real crush, worse than when you were in high school awkwardly fumbling around romance for the first time.

Which you feel absolutely horrible about.

The entire reason you wanted to avoid having a male roommate is because you were afraid of them catching feelings and making things weird, but here you are, pining over Mark Grayson like some teenager doodling hearts in her notebook.

But, Mark isn’t here right now, and you know he’s usually gone a while when he gets a message on that pager, so you finally have plenty of time to yourself to relieve the tension that’s been burning you up lately.

What you’re not aware of, however, is that while you’re going around your room lighting your scented candles and putting on some music to set the mood, a certain superhero is flying home, exhausted after stopping a whole ass plane crash.

So exhausted in fact, that when he finally makes it back to his apartment, he climbs in through the wrong window.

That’s how you find out that your roommate, Mark comic book nerd Grayson, is Invincible.

And that’s how he finds out what you look like naked, fingers between your legs in an intimate moment that was supposed to be private.

“Oh my god…” falls from his lips, and even though you can’t see his eyes through the lenses of his mask, you can feel them on you…

Until he suddenly startles, entire body going rigid. “Oh my god. Shit, Shit. I’m in the wrong room. I am so fucking sorry. Shit.”

There’s no mistaking that voice. Even if you hadn’t been sure before he opened his mouth, there’s not a doubt in your mind that your roommate… actual superhero Mark Grayson… is standing in your candlelit room, trying—and failing—to not stare at your naked body while your best fuck me music is playing.

What are you going to do about it?

💛 💙 Continue the Story on Glimmer 💙 💛

#mark grayson x reader #mark grayson x you #mark grayson smut #glimmerfic #glimmerfics #invincible x reader #invincible x you #This is NOT the fic I was meant to be writing tonight but I could not help myself #I'm glad I did NOT help myself though because I am BUZZING #(sorry friend who is waiting for the other fic. This one was just a one shot though so EP. 4 OF SOLDIER BOY'S BABYSITTER IS NEXT)#IT IS NOW TIME FOR ME TO GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP #IT'S 2AM #I am weak for Invincible #My obsession started as just Sinister Mark but there is some very compelling Regular Mark propaganda out there

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mingiatz · 1 day ago

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When Y/N starts spending late nights at Halcyon to wait for her best friend, she never expects the charming bartender, San, to become her safe place. Between playful banter, soft moments, and a past she’s learning to heal from, she finds herself drawn into something tender, a little chaotic, and maybe—just maybe—worth falling for.

Pairing: Choi San x Reader

Trope: Friends to lovers, bartender AU, hurt/comfort, slow burn that turns soft and steamy

Genre: Romance, fluff, angst, smut, found family

Featuring: Protective but lovesick San, Reader with a shy streak and emotional growth, A chaotic supporting cast (ATEEZ), Wooyoung being a menace and endlessly flirting with Haneul, Soft kisses, playful teasing, and tender intimacy

⚠️ Trigger Warning: This story contains mentions of bullying (past, verbal/emotional), anxiety, panic attacks, and low self-esteem. There are also scenes of consensual sexual intimacy (soft smut). Reader discretion is advised.

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

San leaned against the doorway to the staff room, a towel hanging loosely from his hand. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but he’d been heading back to the bar when he caught the sound of your voice drifting softly from the corner where you sat with the others.

“You know…” you said, your tone thoughtful. “I don’t talk about this a lot, but this place—Halcyon—and all of you… you’ve been such a big part of me feeling normal again. Especially San. I can’t really explain it, but… I don’t know how I would’ve gotten through the past few months without him.”

San froze in place, the words settling heavily in his chest. There was a faint warmth in your voice, the kind that made something tighten deep in his ribs. But then you added softly, almost matter-of-factly, “He’s a really good friend. You all are. I’m lucky I met you.”

Friend.

The word echoed in his mind, hollow and heavy. He tried to swallow past the sudden lump in his throat, forcing his expression into something neutral as he lingered out of sight.

“San’s glad to have you around too, Y/N. Trust me,” Yunho said kindly, his voice carrying gentle sincerity.

Wooyoung, on the other hand, let out a quiet sigh once you excused yourself to the restroom. He leaned back against the counter, rubbing his neck. “She really doesn’t get it, huh?”

“Not yet,” Yunho replied, shaking his head with a small smile. “She’s still too focused on healing to even think about someone that way.”

Mingi’s voice was low but firm. “Don’t take it personally, San. It’s not because of you—it’s because of what she’s been through.”

San stayed silent, his eyes still fixed on the space where you’d been sitting. He didn’t know what hurt more—hearing that you never even considered being with him… or knowing he couldn’t fault you for it.

“She’ll come around,” Jongho said softly from his seat at the bar, surprising San with his quiet certainty. “If anyone can make her feel safe enough to love again, it’s you.”

San let out a slow breath, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I’m not going to push her. She deserves to take her time.”

Wooyoung gave him a sympathetic look. “Yeah… but man, it’s gotta suck to hear that.”

San’s lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile. “It does. But I’d rather be her friend than nothing at all.”

You returned from the restroom moments later, smiling faintly as you rejoined the group. The guys all straightened, their faces adopting the easy, casual expressions of people who definitely hadn’t just been discussing your love life.

“Did I miss something?” you asked, sliding back onto your stool.

“Nothing,” Mingi said a little too quickly.

“Just talking about the weather,” Yunho added, nodding seriously.

You blinked, but before you could question them further, the door to the bar swung open and Haneul stepped inside, her ponytail swishing as she scanned the room.

“There you are!” she called with a grin. “Ready to go?”

You nodded, sliding off your stool and grabbing your bag. “Yeah, just let me say bye.”

As you hugged the guys goodbye, Wooyoung smirked and leaned toward Yunho, his voice dropping to a mischievous whisper. “You know… Haneul’s actually really hot.”

Yunho groaned audibly. “No. Don’t even start.”

“Please no,” Mingi muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

Jongho raised a brow at Wooyoung, his voice flat. “Do you enjoy making everyone else suffer?”

“What?” Wooyoung grinned unrepentantly. “I’m just saying. I might have to shoot my shot.”

San shook his head with a quiet sigh, but there was the faintest upward quirk of his lips as the others groaned in unison.

“Endless flirting,” Yunho muttered. “We’re never going to hear the end of it.”

As the door closed behind you and Haneul, the group let out a collective sigh, bracing themselves for whatever chaos Wooyoung’s newfound interest might unleash.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

It was Haneul’s day off, and the two of you were curled up on her couch, mugs of hot chocolate in hand as the autumn chill settled outside. The TV played a random rom-com in the background, but Haneul’s attention was firmly on you.

“So,” she said, tucking her legs underneath her. “Are you doing anything for Halloween?”

You shook your head, pulling your oversized sweater tighter around yourself. “Not really. I never… really celebrated it much after high school.”

Haneul’s eyes lit up mischievously. “Then it’s perfect. You should come to the Halloween party at Halcyon.”

“The bar’s throwing a party?” you asked cautiously.

“Kind of,” Haneul replied with a grin. “It’s a staff thing, but the people from the other shifts are coming too. No customers, just us. Costumes mandatory, drinks free, and Wooyoung is in charge of music—so it’s guaranteed chaos.”

You hesitated, chewing your lip. “I don’t know… I’m not really good with parties. What if I don’t fit in?”

“Y/N.” Haneul reached over to squeeze your hand. “You’ll be fine. Everyone loves you already, and I’ll be there the whole time. Plus…” She smirked. “It’s a chance to see San in costume.”

Your face warmed instantly, and you swatted her arm. “That’s not why I’d go.”

“Sure, sure,” she teased. “So… you’re in?”

You took a deep breath, forcing a small smile. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll go.”

“Good.” Haneul clapped her hands in delight. “Now we just need costumes.”

The afternoon of the party, you and Haneul stood in front of her full-length mirror as you got ready.

Haneul had gone all out, dressed in a sleek black bodysuit with a pair of cat ears perched perfectly in her hair. Her eyeliner was sharp enough to cut glass, and she’d even added a playful tail to complete the look.

“Sexy cat cliché?” she said with a wink. “Never fails.”

“You look amazing,” you admitted, eyes wide as she spun in a little circle.

“Thanks. Now let’s see you.”

You stepped out from behind the bathroom door, tugging nervously at the hem of your costume. You’d chosen something cute but slightly out of your comfort zone—a soft pastel bunny outfit with a short, flared skirt and a fitted corset-style bodice. The fabric hugged your curves in a way you weren’t used to, and the thigh-high stockings paired with delicate lace gloves added just a hint of flirtiness. A pair of bunny ears sat atop your head, and a small, fluffy tail completed the look.

Haneul let out a delighted gasp. “Oh my god, Y/N, that’s perfect.”

You hugged your arms around yourself self-consciously. “Isn’t it too much? I don’t usually wear stuff like this.”

“It’s adorable and a little sexy. Exactly what you needed,” Haneul said with a grin. “You’re going to stun everyone.” She smirked knowingly. “Especially San.”

“Han…” you groaned, rolling your eyes but unable to stop the small laugh that escaped.

But her teasing grin softened slightly as she watched you adjust your bunny ears. “Speaking of San… can I ask you something?”

You froze. “What?”

“What do you think about him? Really?”

You fiddled with the lace of your gloves, trying to play it off. “He’s… a good friend. He’s been there for me when I needed someone. That’s all.”

Haneul raised a brow and didn’t say a word, just staring at you like she could see straight through the flimsy defense.

With a sigh, you gave in, voice quiet. “Okay, fine. I think… I think he’s really handsome. And maybe… maybe I have a little crush.”

Haneul’s grin threatened to split her face as you rushed to add, “But it doesn’t matter. Someone like San doesn’t like women like me.”

“Y/N.” Haneul’s tone was unexpectedly serious now. “You have no idea how wrong you are about that.”

You gave her a weak smile, brushing her words off. “Let’s just get going before I lose my nerve.”

“Fine, but I’m not dropping this later,” she said, grabbing her purse. “The bar isn’t ready for us.”

You took a deep breath, willing your nerves to settle as you followed her out the door.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

San had been helping Yunho string up the last few fake cobwebs near the bar when the door creaked open. Laughter and music filled Halcyon’s staff-only Halloween party, and the guys were in various states of ridiculousness—Wooyoung in vampire fangs, Mingi wearing a banana costume that no one had asked for, and Jongho somehow pulling off a full suit of armor like it was no big deal.

But the second San glanced toward the door, he felt his breath catch.

You stepped in behind Haneul, clutching her arm with an almost shy smile. Haneul, dressed in her sleek black cat bodysuit and killer heels, looked every bit the confident queen she was. But you… you were something else entirely.

San’s eyes trailed over the pastel bunny outfit you wore—cute yet undeniably flirty. The corset bodice hugged your frame, the short skirt swished with every careful step you took, and the thigh-high stockings seemed to emphasize just how delicate you looked. Your fingers fiddled nervously with the lace gloves, and you glanced around like you weren’t sure you belonged there.

San couldn’t look away. He’d seen you in cozy sweaters, oversized t-shirts, and even his own clothes—but this? This was… new. His chest tightened, and a faint warmth crept up his neck. He only snapped out of it when Wooyoung let out a dramatic gasp from across the room.

“The future mother of my children has arrived!” Wooyoung declared, clutching his chest as he made a beeline for Haneul. “Haneul, you look so dangerously gorgeous I might faint.”

Haneul blinked, caught completely off guard as Wooyoung took her hand with an exaggerated bow. “What are you doing?” she asked, trying not to laugh.

“Admiring perfection,” Wooyoung replied smoothly. “Did it hurt when you fell from heaven, or was it just when you put on those ears?”

Yunho groaned loudly from the bar. “Oh no. He’s started already.”

Mingi buried his face in his hands. “We’re never going to survive this.”

Even Jongho shook his head with a muttered, “This is going to be painful.”

But San’s gaze had drifted back to you. You were laughing softly at Haneul’s flustered expression, your fingers still tugging at your skirt like you didn’t know how stunning you looked.

He quickly turned back to the bar, forcing himself to focus on stacking cups. Anything to keep from staring too long.

But his heart wouldn’t stop racing.

The second you stepped into Halcyon, your nerves flared. The warm glow of string lights and the low thrum of music made the bar feel unfamiliar, even though you’d been here countless times before. Everyone was laughing, drinks in hand, their costumes ranging from absurd to jaw-dropping.

Haneul strutted in beside you, oozing confidence in her sleek black cat bodysuit, and you tried to channel even a fraction of her energy as your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your skirt. You tugged at your bunny ears, wishing for a moment that you’d chosen something less attention-grabbing.

But the attention came anyway.

“Oh my god, Y/N?!” Mingi’s voice boomed from across the room. “You look adorable!”

“You’re so cute it’s unfair,” Yunho added with a grin, already making his way toward you.

“Dangerously cute,” Jongho said with surprising seriousness, his arms crossed like he was trying not to smile.

You felt your cheeks heat up as you laughed nervously. “Guys, stop. I’m not—”

“Yes, you are,” Haneul cut in, smirking as she gave your arm a squeeze. “Own it, sweetheart.”

Before you could respond, a sudden hush fell over your little corner of the bar. You followed the shift in attention and felt your breath catch.

San was there.

Dressed as a pirate.

The loose white shirt hung open just enough to reveal defined muscles and a glimpse of toned abs. A leather strap crossed his chest, and the black pants clung to strong thighs. The messy waves of his hair and the kohl smudged around his eyes added to the rugged look, making it impossible to look away.

Your mouth went dry. Oh no.

He noticed you then, his dark gaze locking with yours for a fraction of a second before you tore your eyes away, your face burning.

“Earth to Y/N,” Haneul teased softly beside you. “You’re staring.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Yes, you were.” She grinned. “And it’s okay. I mean, have you seen him?”

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands as the others chuckled, but your mind kept replaying the image of San in that pirate outfit.

Haneul grinned as she tugged you through the crowd toward a group of staff you didn’t recognize. “You haven’t met the others from the later shifts yet, have you? Let’s fix that.”

You smiled nervously, trying to ignore the flutter of anxiety in your stomach. “Do I look okay?”

“You look perfect,” Haneul assured you. “Trust me, they’re going to love you.”

She introduced you one by one to a handful of coworkers dressed in all manner of costumes—from vampires to superheroes. Everyone greeted you warmly, but one of them, a tall guy in a devil costume with small horns perched on his head, seemed particularly intrigued.

“I’m Minjae,” he said with a grin, his eyes raking over your outfit in a way that made you shift uncomfortably. “You’re Y/N, right? I’ve heard a lot about you from the others.”

You offered a small smile. “All good things, I hope.”

“The best,” he said, his tone dripping with charm. “So how come I haven’t seen you at any of these parties before?”

“Oh, I… don’t really go to parties much.” You fiddled with the hem of your skirt, missing the way his grin widened.

“Well, I’m glad you came tonight. Here—” He held out a cup of something dark red. “Let me get you a drink.”

“Oh, um… thanks, but I don’t really drink.”

“Come on,” Minjae pressed lightly, stepping a little closer. “One drink won’t hurt. It’ll help you loosen up.”

“I really don’t—”

“Y/N doesn’t like alcohol,” a familiar voice cut in sharply.

You turned to see San standing behind you, his dark eyes fixed on Minjae. He stepped forward, his hand closing gently but firmly around yours. “I’ll borrow her for a bit.”

Before you could process what was happening, San was leading you away through the crowd. You glanced back to see Minjae’s smirk falter as San’s hold on your hand tightened slightly.

The others watched the scene unfold from across the room. Yunho and Mingi exchanged glances, while Wooyoung let out a low whistle.

“Oh, he’s jealous,” Wooyoung whispered, barely able to hide his grin.

Jongho folded his arms, watching San’s back as he guided you away. “About time he did something.”

Meanwhile, your heart was pounding as San stopped near the quieter end of the bar, finally releasing your hand but keeping his eyes on yours.

San led you to the quieter end of the bar, his hand still warm from holding yours. The muffled bass of the music vibrated through the floor, but it felt distant here, the two of you tucked away in your own little pocket of calm.

“You okay?” San asked softly, his dark eyes scanning your face.

You nodded quickly, though your heart was still racing from his sudden intervention. “Yeah… thank you. I didn’t know how to get out of that.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” he said firmly. “Minjae was being pushy. I couldn’t just stand there.”

The way his jaw tightened made your stomach flip unexpectedly. You’d never had someone step in like that—so quietly, yet so unshakably protective.

“Still,” you murmured, fiddling with the edge of your lace glove, “thanks for… noticing.”

His expression softened, and for a moment it felt like the noise and laughter around you melted away. “You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. I’ll always notice.”

Your breath hitched slightly. There was something in the way he said it—low and sincere—that made your chest feel too tight.

You shifted your gaze, willing your thoughts to settle, but it was no use. You couldn’t stop the flicker of heat that ran through you every time your eyes landed on him—the pirate costume doing little to help as it clung to his frame, his shirt still open just enough to reveal the sculpted lines of his chest.

God, why am I even thinking about him like that? You scolded yourself. You’d never had these kinds of thoughts about anyone before, and now you couldn’t seem to stop. It was both thrilling and unsettling.

Later, after San had been pulled away by Jongho to help fix something with the music setup, you lingered at the bar with Haneul, trying to shake off your confusion. But your eyes kept darting toward him without your permission.

That’s when you saw her—a stunning woman in a tight red dress leaning close to San near the bar. She laughed, touching his arm as she whispered something, and he smirked in response. It wasn’t anything overtly intimate, but it made your stomach twist in a way you didn’t expect.

Two women standing nearby giggled behind their hands.

“Is that San with her?” one of them whispered.

“Yeah,” the other replied. “Honestly, I’m surprised he hasn’t left with someone yet. He’s not exactly the type to turn down attention.”

“You mean he…?”

“Mhm. Sleeps around a lot. Not that I blame anyone. Look at him.”

You quickly looked away, your hands gripping the edge of the bar a little too tightly. The tightness in your chest returned, though you tried to swallow it down.

“Hey,” Wooyoung said suddenly, appearing at your side. “Do you—” He paused. “Wait. You don’t drink. Sorry, that was dumb.”

You turned toward him with a strained smile. “Actually… maybe I will.”

His brows shot up in surprise. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Just… one.”

Wooyoung didn’t question it further, but his eyes lingered on you with faint concern as he turned tooget one.

The alcohol hit you faster than you expected. It had been just one drink—a sweet, fruity cocktail that Wooyoung had slid across the bar with a wink. You hadn’t planned on drinking, but after seeing San with that stunning woman and overhearing those whispers about him, something inside you had shifted. Maybe you just wanted to forget for a little while.

As the glass emptied in your hand, a warm, dizzying fuzziness spread through you, loosening every taut string of anxiety in your chest. It wasn’t unpleasant—not at all. It was like someone had turned down the volume on your overthinking.

You set the glass down on the bar a little too firmly and giggled at the faint clink. “Oops.”

Wooyoung, leaning casually nearby, tilted his head at you with a grin. “You okay there, Y/N?”

“I feel… light,” you said dreamily, a giggle bubbling out of you. “Like… floaty. Is that normal?”

Haneul’s brows knitted together as she watched you sway slightly on the stool. “Wooyoung. What the hell did you give her?”

Wooyoung raised his hands, his expression one of mock offense. “Hey! It was just one of the fruity specials—she said she wanted it! I didn’t know she was a total lightweight.”

Haneul’s glare could have burned a hole through him. “She doesn’t drink, idiot. Her tolerance is zero.”

You waved your hand dismissively and slid off the stool, nearly stumbling as your heels hit the floor. “I’m fine,” you insisted with a laugh. “Actually… I feel amazing.”

“Y/N—” Haneul started, but you were already making your way to the dance floor, the music’s thumping bass calling to you like a siren song.

Wooyoung’s grin widened as he watched you go. “Okay, I take back my concern—this is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Haneul rounded on him with fire in her eyes. “If she so much as twists an ankle, you’re dead.”

You didn’t hear any of it. You were too busy spinning in a circle, the short skirt of your costume flaring slightly as you laughed. The song playing was one you vaguely recognized, and when the chorus hit, you threw your hands in the air and began singing loudly—off-key but with every ounce of enthusiasm your tipsy state could muster.

“THIS IS MY JAM!” you shouted to no one in particular, laughing so hard you nearly doubled over.

People nearby turned to watch, some clapping along as you shimmied awkwardly, your bunny ears bouncing with every movement. Someone even cheered, “Go bunny girl!” which only made you laugh harder.

Haneul groaned, rubbing her temples. “Oh my god. She’s singing.”

“Yeah, but look at her,” Wooyoung said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “She’s having the time of her life. Let her live.”

Across the room, San had just returned from helping Jongho fix the playlist. He froze mid-step when his eyes landed on you. His brows furrowed first in surprise, then softened as he took in the sight of you twirling on the dance floor, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with uninhibited joy.

The other guys noticed too. Yunho chuckled softly, shaking his head. “She’s adorable… but she’s going to feel that later.”

Mingi grinned, though a trace of worry crossed his face. “She’s never like this. It’s kind of refreshing… but should we let her keep going?”

Jongho’s expression was more serious. “We should keep an eye on her. She’s way out of her element.”

You were too caught up in the music to notice the group’s concerned stares. And then—because it seemed like a brilliant idea at the time—you clambered up onto one of the low tables.

A chorus of surprised voices rose around you. Someone whistled. “Bunny girl’s taking over the party!”

You raised your arms dramatically. “THIS SONG IS EVERYTHING!” you shouted before launching into a carefree dance, hips swaying, bunny tail bouncing as your skirt flared dangerously with each spin.

Wooyoung’s jaw dropped, but his grin returned in an instant. “She’s a star. An absolute star.”

“She’s going to break her neck,” Haneul hissed, panic rising in her voice. “Why didn’t you stop her?!”

Across the room, San’s chest tightened at the sight of you on the table. His concern spiked as he noticed your slight wobble when the beat changed.

“That’s it,” he muttered, already moving.

Haneul saw him and let out a relieved sigh. “Thank god. Someone responsible.”

San weaved through the crowd with purposeful strides, his jaw set. The guys watched silently as he approached, Yunho murmuring under his breath, “Guess she picked the right pirate to rescue her.”

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

San’s strides were quick and purposeful as he cut through the crowd, his eyes never leaving you. The soft thump of music faded in his ears, replaced by the loud pounding of his own heartbeat as he watched you swaying recklessly on the table.

The table wobbled slightly with every shift of your weight, its legs creaking under the strain. San’s jaw tightened. One wrong step and—

“Y/N!” he called, but your laugh drowned his voice out as you twirled again, the edge of your skirt catching on the breeze from a nearby fan. The crowd cheered, oblivious to the danger.

And then it happened.

Your heel caught on the edge of the table as it wobbled violently, sending you lurching forward with a small yelp. The sound froze San’s blood.

But he was there.

In one smooth motion, he reached the table, arms outstretched. Your fall was abrupt but short-lived as you tumbled straight into his waiting hold. He caught you effortlessly, one arm supporting your back, the other cradling your legs as if you weighed nothing.

The crowd gasped, then erupted into cheers and whistles.

“Like a scene out of a movie!” Wooyoung cackled from the bar.

But San didn’t hear them. His focus was entirely on you.

You blinked up at him, wide-eyed and flushed, your bunny ears slightly askew. “San…”

His chest rose and fell heavily as he looked down at you, his arms tightening just slightly. “What were you thinking?” he said, his voice low but steady, laced with a tension that sent shivers down your spine.

“I… I don’t know.” You let out a nervous giggle, though your face burned hotter under his intense gaze.

“Let’s get you down,” he murmured, already stepping back from the table and carrying you away from the center of the room.

“Whoa, pirate prince alert!” Yunho whispered to Mingi, watching as San moved through the crowd like you were the most precious thing in the world.

San ignored the teasing voices and kept his focus on you. Your head lolled slightly against his chest, the warmth of his arms and the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat making your own spin even faster.

He reached the quieter edge of the bar and set you gently on your feet, his hands lingering at your waist to steady you.

“You okay?” he asked, eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort.

You nodded, though your knees felt weak and your thoughts were a blur. “Yeah… thank you.”

“Stay here,” he said softly. “I’ll get you some water.”

But as he stepped away, you realized your heart wasn’t racing from the alcohol anymore—it was entirely because of him.

San led you carefully into the staff room, his hand steady at your back as you giggled softly to yourself. The moment the door closed behind you, the noise of the party dulled to a faint hum. The quiet felt comforting, wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

“Sit,” San said gently, guiding you toward the sofa.

You flopped down with a graceless sigh, leaning back and closing your eyes. The short skirt of your costume rode up dangerously high as you shifted, revealing more of your thighs than you intended.

San’s eyes flickered down instinctively before he quickly averted his gaze, heat creeping up his neck. Without a word, he grabbed a folded blanket from the armrest and draped it over your lap.

“Careful,” he murmured. “You’ll thank me later.”

Your eyes fluttered open, and you tilted your head to look at him with a dreamy smile. “You’re so thoughtful, San…”

He chuckled softly, crouching slightly so he was level with you. “Someone has to look out for you.”

You leaned forward suddenly, your finger poking his chest through the thin fabric of his pirate shirt. “I never realized…” you murmured, your words slightly slurred. “You’re so… strong.”

San stiffened at the unexpected touch. “Y/N—”

But you didn’t stop, your fingers trailing down to poke his arm and then sliding daringly to press at his thigh as you giggled. “Wow… solid. Do you work out a lot? These muscles are insane. Your thighs too—like rocks.”

San’s breath hitched, his face flushing crimson as he gently but firmly caught your wandering hand. “Alright, that’s enough exploring, bunny,” he said with a nervous laugh, trying to sound light even as his heart pounded.

You blinked at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes, your words tumbling out unfiltered. “But… you’re so handsome.”

San froze.

“Every time I see you, my stomach does these little flutters,” you mumbled softly. “Like there are… grasshoppers in there or something.”

San’s throat tightened as your gaze stayed on him, vulnerable and sweet in your drunken haze. He held your hand tighter, torn between wanting to smile and wanting to say something he probably shouldn’t.

“San…” you whispered again, hesitating. “Is it true? What they said about you… that you… sleep around a lot?”

He blinked, caught off guard by your question. For a moment he didn’t speak, then nodded slightly. “It’s true,” he admitted quietly. “I’ve… been with people casually before.”

Your lips parted as you stared at him, the faintest crease forming between your brows. “Would you…” Your voice lowered to a whisper. “Would you sleep with me too… if I asked?”

San’s heart thudded painfully as he searched your dazed expression, his hand still holding yours tightly. “Y/N…” he murmured, voice low, conflicted.

The silence between you stretched as San’s words lingered in the air. You shifted slightly under the blanket, your cheeks warm from more than just the alcohol. Sleep pulled at your limbs, but a small part of you clung to consciousness, embarrassed by what you’d said moments ago.

“That was… a stupid question,” you murmured sleepily, your voice muffled as you turned your head against the sofa cushion. “We’re just friends. You wouldn’t… not with someone like me. You’re way out of my league anyway.”

San’s chest tightened at your words. He stayed crouched beside you, his hand still holding yours. “Y/N…” he said softly, his tone almost chastising.

You peeked at him through heavy eyelids, trying to downplay the lump forming in your throat. “It’s fine. I didn’t mean it.”

But San’s thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles, and his expression held none of the rejection you’d braced for. Instead, his dark eyes were steady, almost vulnerable. “I wouldn’t sleep with you,” he said gently, watching the way your brows drew together faintly.

You nodded faintly, a sad little smile tugging at your lips. “I know. Makes sense…”

“Not because I don’t want to,” San added before you could retreat any further into yourself. His voice was low and warm, carrying a weight that made your sleepy brain focus despite the haze.

You blinked up at him, confusion flickering in your gaze. “Then… why?”

“Because you’re not like them,” he said simply. “You’re different. You’re… special. If it was with you, I wouldn’t want it to be casual. I’d want to take my time. You deserve more than a fleeting night, Y/N.”

The words sank into you slowly, wrapping around your chest like a soft ribbon. Your lips parted, but no response came—your exhaustion finally winning as your eyes drifted shut.

San watched as your breathing evened out, your hand still tucked in his larger one. He exhaled quietly, his thumb brushing over your fingers again as he murmured to the sleeping room, “You really have no idea what you do to me.”

He stayed there for a moment longer, then adjusted the blanket carefully around your legs before sitting on the floor beside the sofa, determined to stay close until you woke.

San quietly closed the door to the staff room, letting out a soft sigh as he ran a hand through his tousled hair. The muffled music of the party returned as he stepped back into the bar, but his mind stayed behind with you—curled up on the sofa, breathing softly in sleep.

He spotted the others gathered near the bar counter. Wooyoung, of course, was in the middle of trying to impress Haneul, leaning one elbow on the counter and flashing her his most exaggerated grin.

“You know, Haneul,” Wooyoung said smoothly, “if I were a cat, I’d use up all nine lives just to spend one with you.”

Haneul blinked at him, obviously caught between confusion and secondhand embarrassment. “What… does that even mean?”

“It means I’d risk everything for—”

“Oh my god,” Yunho groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “He’s still at it.”

Mingi leaned against the bar, sipping his drink with a long-suffering expression. “Does he ever stop?”

“Not unless you forcibly remove him,” Jongho muttered flatly.

San let out a small chuckle despite himself as he approached. Wooyoung noticed his arrival and straightened with a grin. “Ah, San! Back from rescuing your damsel in distress?”

Haneul perked up instantly at his words, concern flashing across her face. “How’s Y/N? Is she okay?”

“She’s sleeping,” San replied calmly, his tone soft. “I’m thinking about taking her to my apartment once she wakes up. She should sober up somewhere quiet.”

Haneul’s brows arched slightly, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You don’t have… any weird thoughts about that, do you?”

San’s dark eyes met hers, steady and unflinching. His answer came without hesitation. “No. I would never hurt her. She’s not just anyone to me.”

The others fell silent, Wooyoung’s grin faltering as San continued in the same calm, resolute tone.

“She’s the woman I actually love. I’d never risk that.”

A beat of stunned silence followed. Yunho’s eyes widened slightly. Mingi froze mid-sip. Even Jongho’s stoic expression cracked faintly in surprise.

Haneul blinked at him, caught completely off guard. “You… you love her?”

San nodded once, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I do.”

Then, without waiting for their reactions, he turned on his heel and headed back toward the staff room, his steps measured but his chest tight with unspoken emotions.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

The group stood frozen in the wake of San’s words, his quiet confession hanging heavy in the air long after he disappeared back into the staff room.

Yunho was the first to find his voice. “Did… did San just say what I think he said?”

“He said he loves her,” Jongho confirmed simply, though his brows were raised slightly, a rare show of surprise crossing his usually calm face.

Mingi set his drink down a little too hard, wide-eyed. “Wait. San? Love? Are we talking about Choi San? The guy who’s always been… casual about women?”

Wooyoung let out a low whistle, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed. “Well, shit. Didn’t see that coming.”

Haneul, however, was still staring at the door San had gone through, her lips parted slightly in shock. She replayed his steady voice in her head: She’s the woman I actually love.

She’d never seen San like that—so calm, so sure.

“You okay there, Haneul?” Wooyoung teased lightly, though there was an uncharacteristic softness in his tone.

She blinked, snapping out of it. “I… I just didn’t expect that. I mean, I knew he cared about her, but…”

“He’s serious,” Jongho said matter-of-factly.

“Dead serious,” Yunho agreed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Honestly, I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at her.”

Wooyoung smirked, though it lacked his usual bite. “Guess the pirate’s found his treasure.”

Haneul crossed her arms, still processing. “If he hurts her…”

“He won’t,” Mingi said confidently. “Did you hear his voice? That wasn’t a guy playing around. That was…” He shook his head with a small laugh. “That was San laying his heart out.”

The group fell into a thoughtful silence, each of them realizing in their own way just how much had shifted in that single moment.

San shifted your weight in his arms as he carried you out of Halcyon, the night air cool against his flushed skin. Your head rested limply on his shoulder, your bunny ears slightly askew as soft breaths escaped your parted lips.

A few late-night pedestrians glanced curiously as he passed by, no doubt taking in the sight of a tall, broad-shouldered pirate carrying a drowsy bunny girl through the streets. One woman giggled into her hand; a group of young men snickered and muttered comments about “wild Halloween parties.”

San ignored them, his grip steady and protective. If anyone dared say something inappropriate, he wasn’t sure he could stop himself from glaring them into silence.

By the time he reached his apartment, you stirred faintly in his arms. “San…?” you murmured sleepily, your voice small.

“We’re at my place,” he said softly, nudging the door open with his foot. “Just for tonight. You need rest.”

He set you down gently on the edge of his bed, crouching to unbuckle your shoes. Your eyes fluttered open, still hazy from the alcohol, and you looked up at him with a faint smile. “You’re so nice…”

San’s lips curved in a soft, conflicted smile. “Come on. Let’s get you into something more comfortable.”

You nodded and pushed yourself up clumsily, fingers fumbling at the corset strings of your costume. “I’ll… change.”

San stood, about to turn away and give you privacy, but froze as you tugged clumsily at the laces. “Wait… San, can you… help me? I can’t reach the back.”

His throat went dry. “Uh… Y/N, maybe I should—”

“Please? Just the strings,” you said, peering over your shoulder at him with glassy, pleading eyes.

He hesitated, then stepped closer, his hands carefully finding the corset ties. He worked silently, his fingers deft but his mind anything but calm as he loosened the laces.

“There…” he murmured, stepping back once it was undone. “It should slip off now.”

You turned toward him then, clutching the loosened fabric to your chest with both hands. The smooth expanse of your bare shoulders and collarbone caught the dim light of his room, and San’s breath hitched at the sight of you standing in front of him, vulnerable yet unbothered in your drunken haze.

“I… I’ll wait outside,” he stammered, quickly averting his eyes.

But your hand shot out, catching his wrist. “Don’t go.”

His pulse thudded wildly. “Y/N—”

“Just stay. Please.” Your voice was quiet, almost shy, as you looked up at him with those sleep-heavy eyes.

You clutched the loosened corset to your chest, still standing in front of San as he shifted uncomfortably. There was a strange, giddy confidence thrumming in your veins—an intoxicating mix of the alcohol and the safety you felt with him.

Why am I acting like this? You wondered dimly, but the thought felt distant compared to the warmth in your stomach every time his dark eyes flicked nervously toward you.

“Don’t go,” you had said, your voice soft but insistent. You didn’t want him to leave. For some reason, you wanted him there—close enough to chase away the unfamiliar vulnerability curling in your chest.

But then, as the quiet stretched and his gaze faltered, the fog in your mind lifted slightly.

What am I doing?

Heat flooded your face as the realization hit. Your drunken courage cracked like fragile glass, leaving embarrassment in ist place. You stepped back hurriedly, clutching the corset tighter. “I-I’m sorry. That was… I shouldn’t have asked that. I don’t know why I—”

“Y/N.”

San’s voice was gentle, and when you hesitated, his tall frame lowered into a crouch before you. You froze as his warm fingers brushed your flushed cheek.

“Hey,” he said softly, his eyes searching yours. “It’s okay. You don’t need to apologize.”

You swallowed hard, your gaze darting anywhere but his. “But I—”

He shook his head faintly, his thumb tracing the edge of your jaw in a feather-light caress that sent shivers down your spine. “I’ll stay. But we need to talk tomorrow. When you’re clear-headed.”

You blinked at him, words catching in your throat as his steady gaze held you there—grounded, safe.

“Okay,�� you whispered finally.

San gave you a small, reassuring smile and stood slowly, turning toward the door. “I’ll be just outside if you need me. Change into something comfortable and rest, okay?”

You nodded, clutching the blanket he’d left you tighter as he stepped out, closing the door behind him with quiet care.

As you sank onto the bed, heart pounding and face hot, you whispered into the empty room, “What am I doing…?”

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

The soft glow of morning sunlight seeped through the thin curtains, warming your face as you stirred. Your head throbbed faintly, a dull ache that made you wince as you cracked open one eye. For a moment, confusion swept over you—this wasn’t your room. The sheets smelled faintly of sandalwood and something distinctly San.

Oh no.

Memories of last night trickled in, slowly at first, then all at once—the party, the dancing, the table, San’s arms catching you, his gentle hands undoing your corset strings. And then… the words you’d mumbled, the boldness you didn’t recognize in yourself, the way he’d crouched beside you, eyes warm and soft.

A groan escaped your lips as you buried your face into the pillow. Why did I say those things? Why did I act like that?

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling you from your spiral. Blinking against the light, you grabbed it and squinted at the screen. A message from Haneul.

Haneul: Morning! Are you okay? Everything alright?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard as guilt churned in your stomach. You typed, erased, and typed again before settling on a simple reply.

You: I’m okay. Just… a little embarrassed.

As you hit send, the weight of your thoughts settled heavier on your chest. You’d asked San things you’d never even dared to think sober. You’d clung to him, touched him like it meant nothing—like he wasn’t your closest friend. He must think I’m ridiculous… or worse.

A soft knock at the door made you jump.

“Y/N?” San’s voice carried gently through the wood. “Are you awake?”

Your heart leapt into your throat. “Y-Yeah,” you called back weakly, clutching the blanket tighter around you. “But… I-I don’t think I can look you in the face right now. I’m too embarrassed.”

There was a pause, then a faint chuckle from the other side. “That’s okay. You don’t have to yet.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, burying your burning face into your hands. How am I supposed to face him after everything?

San leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed as he watched the pan sizzle softly. The smell of eggs and toast filled the apartment, warm and comforting. He’d told you he was making breakfast after your muffled confession through the door—that you couldn’t look at him yet because of your embarrassment.

He didn’t mind waiting. He’d wait as long as you needed.

But when he heard the faint shuffle of your footsteps approaching, his heart gave an annoyingly eager flutter. He turned slightly, catching sight of you standing hesitantly in the doorway.

The morning light streamed through the curtains, spilling across your face and catching in your messy hair. Even with tired eyes and faint shadows beneath them, you looked—

Breathtaking.

He didn’t think it was possible, but his chest tightened even more as he took you in. There was a vulnerability to you he’d never seen before, but it didn’t make you look weak. If anything, it made you impossibly beautiful.

“Morning,” he said softly, his voice gentle so as not to startle you.

“Morning,” you murmured back, your fingers tugging nervously at the hem of the oversized t-shirt you’d changed into.

“You can sit,” San said with a small smile. “Breakfast’s almost ready.”

You nodded and slid into a chair, still avoiding his eyes. San plated the food and set it before you carefully, then sat opposite, his gaze lingering as he watched you pick at your toast.

The clink of cutlery and the faint hum of the refrigerator filled the silence until he finally spoke, his voice steady but quiet.

“Everything I said yesterday…” He paused, waiting until your eyes cautiously lifted to his. “I meant it. Every single word.”

Your lips parted slightly, your fingers tightening on your fork.

“You’re different, Y/N. Special. The most beautiful person I’ve ever laid eyes on. And not just because of how you look right now.” His lips curved faintly. “Though… even exhausted, you’re still stunning.”

You blinked at him, stunned, heat rushing to your cheeks as you stared down at your plate.

“I didn’t say any of that lightly,” San added softly. “You mean more to me than I think you realize.”

You shifted in your chair, your chest tight with a confusing swirl of emotions. But he wasn’t done.

“And last night… in the staff room.” His voice deepened slightly, though there was no heat in it—only sincerity. “When you asked me if I would’ve slept with you… I said no. But not because I didn’t want to.”

Your head snapped up, your breath catching in your throat.

San’s dark eyes held yours unwaveringly. “I said no because you weren’t in control of yourself. You weren’t ready. If I’d known you were… if I believed you were clear-headed and really wanted me…” He swallowed hard, his thumb rubbing absently at the edge of his plate. “I wouldn’t have hesitated to stay with you.”

The confession hung between you, heavy and intimate, the sound of your pounding heartbeat loud in your ears.

“But you deserve more than that,” San finished gently. “I don’t want to be another fleeting memory for you. I want…” He exhaled slowly. “I want to take my time with you. If you’ll let me.”

You stared at him, your hands curling slightly in your lap. Words tangled in your throat, but the warmth blooming in your chest felt undeniable.

San’s voice softened further, his eyes searching yours. “I’ve fallen for you, Y/N. From the first moment you stepped foot in the bar… I couldn’t take my eyes off you. And it hasn’t changed since. I’ve liked you for 8 months now and with each day I just liked you more and more.”

Your fork rested idly on your plate as San’s words replayed in your head over and over again. I’ve fallen for you, Y/N. From the first moment you stepped foot in the bar… I couldn’t take my eyes off you.

Your chest felt tight, your thoughts spinning in a whirlwind of disbelief and longing. You forced yourself to take a shaky breath, though it did little to steady the storm inside you.

Why me?

You stared down at your hands, knuckles pale from how tightly you gripped the fabric of your oversized t-shirt. Why would someone like him—so confident, so attractive, so perfect—fall for someone like me? I’m nothing like the women who flirted with him. They’re bold and beautiful, the kind of people who turn heads without even trying. I’m… just me.

San seemed to sense your spiral, his chair scraping lightly as he stood. He moved slowly toward you, his expression calm but unreadable. “You’re thinking too much again,” he said softly.

You looked up, your lips parting slightly as he crouched in front of you, his warm hand rising to brush gently against your cheek.

“San…” you whispered, overwhelmed.

He gave you a small, reassuring smile. “You’re cute in your own way, Y/N. I like cute things. I like you.”

Your breath caught as his thumb stroked along your jaw. “I would be yours,” he murmured, his voice low but steady. “If you’ll take me.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as all your insecurities came tumbling out in a rush. “San… I don’t know if I can do this. I’m awkward. I overthink everything. I shut down when things get too emotional. I don’t even know if I’m… good at relationships. What if I’m not enough for you?”

His hand stilled on your face, and then he let out a quiet laugh—warm, soft, unshakable.

“I don’t care,” he said simply. “None of that matters to me. We’ll figure it out together. You and me. That’s all I need.”

Your throat tightened, and you couldn’t stop the tear that slipped down your cheek. San brushed it away with his thumb, his touch as gentle as his gaze.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his forehead nearly resting against yours now. “You’re already enough.”

For a moment, the world felt still. San’s thumb brushed away the tear on your cheek, his forehead so close to yours you could feel the warmth of his breath. Your chest ached, but not from fear anymore—it was from the steady, quiet longing in his eyes.

You swallowed hard, fingers twisting in your lap. “San… I don’t know how to do this. But… I want to try. With you.”

His eyes widened slightly, and then a smile—soft, unguarded, and impossibly beautiful—spread across his face. Relief washed over his features as he gently lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he murmured against your skin.

Your breath hitched at the warmth of his lips on your hand, and for the first time that morning, a shy smile tugged at your lips.

San straightened slightly but didn’t let go of your hand. “How about we have a lazy morning? I’ll make tea, we’ll watch a movie, and you don’t have to think about anything except which snack you want first.”

You let out a small laugh, tension easing from your shoulders. “That… sounds nice.”

A little while later, you found yourself curled up on San’s couch with a soft blanket draped over your legs. A random movie played on the screen, though your mind barely registered it. San sat beside you, his fingers still entwined with yours, thumb stroking lightly over your knuckles.

You tried to focus on the film, but your heart wouldn’t settle. The warmth of his hand, his nearness, the tender way he looked at you whenever your eyes met—it all left your chest fluttering wildly.

“Y/N?” San asked softly, noticing how quiet you’d grown. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, then hesitated. “I… I want to try something. But I’m nervous.”

San tilted his head, curiosity sparking in his dark eyes. “What is it?”

You took a shaky breath, summoning every ounce of courage as you turned to face him. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire. “This.”

And before your nerves could convince you otherwise, you leaned in and pressed a soft, tentative kiss to his lips.

San froze for a split second, then melted into the touch, his free hand rising slightly as if to cup your face but stopping just shy, not wanting to startle you. You felt the warmth of his breath as he kissed you back carefully, his lips gentle but sure.

When you pulled back, your eyes wide and face flushed, his lips curved into a slow, awed smile.

But then, without meaning to, you leaned in again—hungrier this time. San’s breath hitched as your lips pressed against his more firmly, and his hand finally cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly along your skin.

You sighed softly into the kiss, your nerves giving way to something deeper, a longing that had been growing all along. As your confidence built, you shifted closer, your fingers finding his shoulders, then cradling his face as your lips moved against his with more insistence.

“I really… really like kissing you,” you whispered shyly against his mouth, your words warm and shaky.

San’s eyes fluttered shut at your confession, his thumb stroking your jaw as his own kiss grew slightly more intense, though still reverent. “God, Y/N…” he breathed, his voice low and full of awe. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

You kissed him again, deeper this time, your fingers sliding into his hair. San let out a soft groan, his hand resting against the small of your back as if to keep you close without pulling you too far in.

The heat between you was undeniable now, but still wrapped in a tenderness that made your chest ache in the best way.

The kisses grew deeper, slower, and somehow more consuming. You felt yourself melting into San’s warmth, the steady press of his hand at your back making you feel anchored and wanted in a way that made your head spin.

Then, without thinking, you shifted in his lap, straddling him. You could feel his thighs tense beneath you, his hands still resting lightly at your hips as though he didn’t trust himself to pull you closer.

Your heart pounded wildly as you moved your lips against his with growing confidence, testing your own limits and his. The heat in your cheeks had nothing to do with embarrassment now—it was the raw ache of wanting more, even if you didn’t know exactly what more meant yet.

When you shifted your weight slightly, you felt it—him. Hard against your thigh. You froze for just a second, wide-eyed, then flushed even deeper.

San let out a shaky breath, his ears tinged red as his hands gripped your hips reflexively. “Y/N…” His voice was soft but laced with strain. “We… don’t have to—”

But something bold and unrecognizable flickered in your chest. “I-I know,” you whispered, your hips moving slightly, experimentally. A soft gasp left you at the friction, and San groaned low in his throat, his fingers digging just slightly into your sides as if to hold himself back.

“God, Y/N…” he murmured, his voice thick. “You’re… you’re going to drive me crazy.”

You buried your face in the crook of his neck for a moment, too flustered to look at him, but you couldn’t seem to stop the slow roll of your hips as curiosity and heat tangled inside you.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” you admitted in a whisper, your lips brushing his skin. “But I… I like this. I like you.”

San’s hands slid up your sides gently, one settling against your jaw to tilt your face up so he could see your expression. His eyes were dark, but there was no rush in them, only awe and a trembling kind of restraint.

“You’re perfect,” he said, his thumb stroking your cheek. “But we’ll stop whenever you want, okay?”

You nodded faintly, and when he kissed you again, it was slower this time—like he was trying to memorize the shape of your mouth, every sigh and shiver you gave him. His lips trailed briefly to your jaw, then back to meet yours as his hands kept you steady on his lap.

The moment stayed tender, even as the heat between you flared. Neither of you needed to go further. This was enough—for now.

The heat of the moment eventually faded, replaced by a tender stillness that felt heavier than the quietest words. You stayed curled in San’s lap, your legs folded at his sides, head tucked beneath his chin as his arms held you securely against him. The rise and fall of his chest was soothing, and his heartbeat beneath your ear settled your racing thoughts. His fingers traced lazy, feather-light circles on your back that sent small shivers up your spine.

“Better?” he murmured, his lips brushing your hair.

You nodded, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah… this feels really nice.”

“Good,” he whispered, his voice low and warm. You felt him press a soft kiss against your temple, his hold around you tightening slightly. “I could stay like this forever.”

You let out a quiet laugh, fingers curling into his shirt as if to keep him close. “Forever’s a long time.”

“I know,” San said softly, his thumb stroking soothingly along your arm. “But I mean it.”

The movie’s muffled dialogue filled the background, neither of you paying it any attention. You felt a comforting weight settle over your chest, your earlier nerves replaced by a deep sense of safety. Your eyes grew heavy, and you let them drift shut for a moment, savoring the warmth of him, the quiet of his apartment, and the thought that maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something you wanted to last.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

The next afternoon found you sitting across from Haneul at your favorite café, the warm smell of roasted coffee beans filling the air. A steaming cup of tea sat between your hands, your fingers tracing the rim absentmindedly as you tried to find the right words.

Haneul, however, was having none of your hesitation. “Alright, out with it,” she said, leaning in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’ve been smiling like an idiot since you sat down. What happened with San?”

Your cheeks flamed instantly, and you dropped your gaze to your tea. “We… kissed.”

Haneul’s jaw dropped, then she let out an excited squeal that made a few people at neighboring tables glance over. “You kissed?! Oh my god, Y/N!”

“Han, not so loud!” you hissed, your hands flying up in embarrassment.

She leaned closer, lowering her voice but her grin no less wide. “Okay, okay. But you have to tell me everything. How did it happen? Did he kiss you first? Did you—wait, was it good?”

Your face felt like it was on fire as you fiddled with your sleeve. “It was… really good. I kissed him first. I just… I don’t even know what came over me.”

Haneul’s grin softened as she studied your flustered expression. “And?”

“And we cuddled after,” you admitted, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “He was so gentle, Han. Like he didn’t want to rush anything.”

Haneul rested her chin in her hands, her eyes twinkling. “You like him.”

“I do,” you whispered. “I really, really do.”

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

Meanwhile, at Halcyon, San leaned against the bar, idly polishing glasses as the slow lull of the afternoon shift surrounded him. His lips curved faintly, a warmth lingering in his chest that had nothing to do with the faint hum of music playing overhead.

Wooyoung slid into a stool opposite him, a grin already forming. “You’re smiling like you’ve just won the lottery.”

San raised an eyebrow. “Am I?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Mingi said, joining him with Yunho not far behind. “Something happened. You’re glowing.”

San sighed, setting down the glass and leaning on the counter. “She kissed me.”

Yunho’s eyes widened. “Y/N?”

“Yeah.” A soft smile crept across San’s face as he recalled the feel of your lips, your warmth pressed close to him. “And then she just… stayed with me. No pressure. No expectations. Just her.”

Wooyoung whistled low. “Man, you’ve got it bad.”

“I do,” San admitted without hesitation, his voice almost dreamy. “She’s… everything. More than I ever thought I wanted.”

Mingi blinked, a rare grin spreading across his face. “Wow. You sound like a guy in love.”

“Maybe because I am,” San said softly, his thumb tracing the wood grain of the counter absently, lost in thoughts of you.

The others exchanged knowing glances but didn’t tease him further. Not this time. Instead, they watched their friend’s softened expression, the way his eyes lit up every time your name crossed his mind, and they understood.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

A month later, Halcyon thrummed with ist usual Friday night energy. Glasses clinked, conversations overlapped in gentle waves, and the glow of string lights bathed the bar in a warm, golden hue. Behind the counter, San polished the same glass for what must have been the tenth time, his lips tugging downward in a pout he wasn’t even trying to hide.

“Someone’s distracted tonight,” Yunho remarked, smirking as he stacked a tray of clean tumblers.

“Distracted?” Wooyoung leaned lazily against the bar, his grin widening. “He’s like a lovesick teenager. Look at him. Pouting because his girl’s not here yet.”

San didn’t look up from the glass. “She said she’d be here at seven.”

Mingi groaned playfully from his perch on a barstool. “It’s 7:05, San. You’re acting like she’s an hour late.”

“She’s probably just waiting for the bus or something,” Jongho said flatly, though there was the faintest trace of amusement in his eyes. “Relax.”

San finally set the glass down with a sigh and checked his phone again, scrolling to your last message for the hundredth time.

On my way. Can’t wait to see you.

His chest ached at the thought. She’s coming. Just a few more minutes.

Wooyoung clicked his tongue. “God, he’s hopeless. Look at those puppy eyes.”

“I’ve never seen him like this,” Mingi added. “Remember when he was cool and mysterious?”

“Barely,” Yunho said with a chuckle. “This version’s kinda cute, though.”

San ignored them all, his heart leaping when the bell above the door chimed. His head snapped up so fast it startled Mingi. The second he saw you step inside, wrapped in your favorite coat and scarf, cheeks flushed from the chill, his pout melted instantly.

His entire face lit up like the sun breaking through clouds. “Y/N!”

You spotted him instantly, your shy smile growing when his grin widened. He all but bounded out from behind the bar, his excitement obvious in every step.

Wooyoung let out an exaggerated groan. “Here we go. Puppy mode: fully activated.”

Mingi laughed into his drink. “I swear, he’s got one speed when it comes to her—maximum.”

Even Jongho cracked a small smile. “It’s ridiculous… but also kind of sweet.”

San didn’t hear a word of their teasing. He reached you in seconds, his hands hovering like he wasn’t sure whether to hug you or grab your hands. “You’re here.”

You laughed softly, your heart skipping as his gaze swept over you like you were the only person in the room. “Sorry I’m a few minutes late. Bus was slow.”

“Too long,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. “I missed you.”

“San, it’s only been a day.”

“Still too long,” he said without hesitation, brushing his fingers against yours before gently tugging you toward the bar. “Come on, I saved your favorite spot.”

As he guided you past his friends, Wooyoung couldn’t resist calling out, “Hey, San! Don’t forget we’re here too!”

“Yeah,” Yunho added with a grin. “Try not to melt into a puddle in front of us.”

San only shot them a grin over his shoulder, completely unbothered. “Sorry, can’t promise that.”

You bit your lip to hide your smile as San pulled out a stool for you, his hand lingering on your back even after you sat down. He leaned in, his voice dropping just for you. “Can I get you your usual? Or… should I make you something special?”

Your cheeks warmed as you nodded. “Something special.”

“Anything for you.” His smile softened, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he reluctantly pulled away to start your drink.

Wooyoung sighed dramatically from across the counter. “We’re never getting our cool bartender back, are we?”

Yunho grinned. “Nope. He’s officially gone full soft boyfriend mode.”

And as San glanced back at you with that same lovesick look in his eyes, the others couldn’t even argue.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

The walk home felt like a dream San didn’t want to wake from. The city was quiet around you, but his heart wasn’t—beating fast every time your fingers brushed his, every time you glanced up at him with that shy little smile.

“Your hands are cold,” he murmured softly, slipping his fingers between yours as if he’d been waiting for an excuse.

“They’re not that bad,” you replied, though you didn’t pull away.

“They are,” he said, bringing your joined hands up to his lips. He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. “I’ll fix it.”

You ducked your head, cheeks pink, and San smiled to himself. God, he adored you. Every little nervous laugh, every glance that lingered a second too long—it made his chest tighten in the best way.

When the wind picked up, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his side. “Almost there,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. But secretly, he wished the walk would last forever.

By the time the door clicked shut behind you, San felt like a balloon about to burst from how much he wanted to hold you. He toed off his shoes and tugged you gently toward the couch.

“Sit,” he said with a grin, then flopped down beside you, reaching out to pull you into his lap.

“San!” you laughed as he wrapped his arms around you like a giant teddy bear, his face burying into your shoulder.

“Mine now,” he muttered, voice muffled against your sweater.

“You’re such a baby.” You tried to sound exasperated, but your voice softened, your hand settling on his hair.

“Yeah,” he admitted shamelessly. “But I’m your baby, so deal with it.”

You let out a quiet laugh, leaning back enough to meet his eyes. He looked so happy—eyes crinkled, cheeks faintly flushed—and before you could overthink, you kissed him.

It was soft at first, your lips tentative, but the way his hands flexed against your hips made heat pool low in your stomach. He kissed you back carefully, like he didn’t want to rush, but his hold on you tightened slightly when you pressed a little closer.

“You okay?” he murmured against your lips, his thumb brushing your cheek.

You nodded. “Yeah. I… I want to try something.”

“Anything.” His voice was low, rough with affection.

This time when you kissed him, it was deeper, more certain. You felt his breath hitch as your hands slid to his shoulders, then into his hair. When you shifted to straddle his lap, his fingers gripped your hips instinctively, though he forced himself to stay still, to let you set the pace.

He could feel how fast his heart was pounding when your body pressed closer, your sighs soft and warm against his mouth.

“God, Y/N…” he whispered as you kissed him again, hungrier now. “You’re… you’re driving me insane.”

You pulled back slightly, flushed and breathing hard. “I trust you, San. I really do. And… I feel safe with you. I want to take the next step. With you.”

For a moment, he forgot how to breathe. He stared at you, his chest aching with emotion. “You… you’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” you said softly. “I want this.”

San’s hands cupped your face, his thumb stroking over your flushed skin. “You have no idea how much this means to me,” he murmured, kissing you with a reverence that made your heart stutter.

His hands moved to your sweater, pausing. “Can I?”

“Yes.”

He pulled it over your head carefully, his breath catching as his eyes swept over you. “You’re beautiful,” he said softly, almost like he couldn’t believe you were real.

Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, and he chuckled lowly, helping you with the last few before shrugging it off. You laid your hands on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your palms as his lips found yours again.

San took his time. His kisses trailed to your jaw, down your neck, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His hands slid over your sides, his thumbs tracing circles that made your breath hitch. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispered. “We’ll stop whenever you want.”

“I don’t want to stop,” you whispered back, your fingers tugging gently at his hair.

When he finally eased you down onto the couch cushions, his body settled between your legs, he paused again, his forehead resting against yours. “Y/N… last chance. Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” you breathed, your hands framing his face. “I want you, San.”

“Then I’m yours.”

The way he undressed you was tender, almost reverent. Every kiss, every caress was slow, his eyes never leaving yours as he whispered praise—“You’re so perfect… I’ve got you… You’re safe with me.”

When he finally pressed into you, it was careful and patient, his breath hitching as he felt you tense slightly. “You okay?” he murmured, brushing your hair back.

“Yes… please don’t stop.”

San’s hand found yours, fingers entwining as he moved slowly, his forehead resting against yours. He kissed you deeply, every movement unhurried, savoring the soft sounds you made and the way your fingers clung to his shoulders.

“You feel… incredible,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “You’re everything, Y/N.”

The heat built between you, slow and steady, until you both trembled with the effort to hold back. When you finally fell apart together, clinging to him like he was your lifeline, San held you through every shiver, pressing kisses to your cheeks, your temple, your hair.

Afterwards, he stayed close, his arms wrapped tight around you as you lay together on the couch.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered against your hair.

You buried your face in his chest, your voice small but sure. “Me neither.”

San smiled to himself, brushing his thumb over your knuckles where your hands were still entwined. He didn’t know how he’d gotten this lucky, but he swore he’d never take it for granted.

San woke first.

The soft morning light spilled through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the small tangle of blankets on his couch. He tilted his head slightly to look down at you, still curled against his chest. Your hair was a chaotic mess—wild strands sticking up in every direction—and your cheek was squished adorably against his shirt, leaving a faint damp spot where you’d drooled in your sleep.

His lips curved into a lazy, lovesick smile. God, he loved you. Even like this. Especially like this.

“You’re so cute,” he whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “Even with bedhead and murder breath.”

“Mmmph,” you groaned, burying your face deeper into his chest. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt like you were trying to fuse with him. “Don’t talk. Too early.”

San chuckled, his chest rumbling beneath you. “You know you drool, right? Like, actual puddle status.”

That earned him a half-hearted swat to his chest. “Shut up,” you mumbled.

“Never.” He pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head, tightening his arms around you. “I could stay like this forever.”

“Five more minutes,” you muttered sleepily.

“You said that ten minutes ago.”

“Five. More.”

San just laughed and rested his chin on your head, perfectly content to let you steal as many “five more minutes” as you wanted.

Later that day, Halcyon was alive with ist usual chatter and clinking glasses. The second the door chimed and you and San walked in hand-in-hand, all conversation at the bar seemed to pause.

“Well, well, well,” Wooyoung drawled from behind the counter, leaning dramatically on his elbows. “If it isn’t the human koala couple.”

San grinned, completely unbothered. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is a bad thing,” Jongho deadpanned, though there was the faintest trace of amusement in his eyes. “For our eyesight.”

Yunho smirked. “Should we just set up a private booth for you two? Maybe bring out a sign that says ‘Reserved for Extreme PDA.’”

You laughed nervously, cheeks heating as San led you to your usual spot. But he wasn’t fazed in the slightest. If anything, he looked even more smug as he pulled out your chair with exaggerated gentleness and kissed your cheek before sitting down.

“God, they’re insufferable,” Mingi muttered under his breath, pretending to gag as San draped an arm casually over your shoulders.

But Wooyoung’s attention had already shifted—straight to Haneul, who had just walked in carrying a tray of supplies for the bar. His eyes lit up like a predator spotting ist prey.

“Haneul! My favorite goddess of the night,” he announced dramatically, vaulting over the counter with surprising grace. He landed in front of her and took her free hand, pressing an exaggerated kiss to her knuckles. “What miracle must I perform today to earn your heart?”

Haneul stared at him, unimpressed. “You can start by not breathing my air.”

The guys collectively groaned.

“Oh my god,” Yunho muttered. “Here we go again.”

“Seriously, do we have to witness this every shift?” Mingi said, hiding his face in his hands.

But Wooyoung was undeterred. “Your words wound me, my feline queen.” He clutched his chest as if struck. “But love is patient. I shall persevere.”

“Love is imaginary in your case,” Haneul retorted, though her ears had gone faintly pink.

“Cute,” San murmured in your ear, grinning as you stifled a laugh.

Wooyoung shot him a look. “Hey! Not everyone can be disgusting and couple-y like you two!”

“You’re just jealous,” San replied, feeding you a bite of his dessert with unashamed fondness.

Wooyoung gagged dramatically. “I’m filing a complaint. Against all of you.”

Haneul rolled her eyes and sidestepped Wooyoung, but he followed with his hands clasped as if in prayer. “Haneul, give me one chance. Just one. I promise I’ll make you laugh.”

“You’re making me nauseous. That’s close, right?” she quipped as she disappeared into the back.

The table burst into laughter as Wooyoung groaned loudly.

“She’ll come around,” he declared, plopping back onto a barstool. “Mark my words.”

San chuckled and turned back to you, resting his forehead against yours. “Ignore them. You’re all I see.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said between giggles.

“Maybe.” He kissed your nose, then your cheek, then finally your lips, ignoring the chorus of groans behind him. “But you’re stuck with me now, bunny.”

You smiled, snuggling closer into his side. “Guess I am.”

And as Wooyoung continued his theatrical pining and the others rolled their eyes in mock disgust, San only pulled you closer, perfectly content in his little bubble with you.

Not even his friends’ teasing could ruin this.

Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2

💌 Author’s Note

Thank you so much for reading this far! This story has been such a soft and special one for me to write, and I’m so happy you’re here for the journey. ✨ I’d love to hear what you’d like to see next—whether it’s more soft moments, chaos with the friend group, or something entirely new. Drop your thoughts and suggestions in the comments or send me an ask. Your ideas always inspire me! 💕

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