#i'm in a rush to post before leaving town

[bananayuyu]

just friends (10) - sparks on the horizon

pairing: san x f reader

genre: smut, angst, a bit of fluff

word count: 10.7k

warnings: smut, MDNI, oral (f and m receiving), rough sex, facial

a/n: I can't believe I'm here posting the final part y'all. My sappier and longer notes will be at the end as always, if you'd like to read them, but for now, I really hope you enjoy <333 I appreciate all of you endlessly!

<- previous part | series masterlist | read it on ao3

Two Years + Six Months Later

“Okay, hi everyone, I just wanted to say on behalf of me and Maya, we really appreciate that you all are here to celebrate with us this weekend, and we truly cannot thank you enough.  Each and every one of you has supported us in one way or another throughout our lives, and we wouldn’t be here if weren’t for you all, so thank you from the bottom of our hearts, and I hope you’ve been having a wonderful weekend so far.  Now, let’s eat!”

Tina’s voice was bright and shaky with nerves, the entire rehearsal dinner breaking into applause, before silence fell as they dug into their meals.  The winter air was crisp and chilly and laced with a breeze, your thin sweater doing little to help you.  As you chowed down San noticed your shivering, and took off his hoodie and handed it to you, without saying a word.

“Sannie, you’re gonna freeze,” you pouted, looking at him with eyebrows knit together.

“I’ll go grab another one from the room, I’ll be right back,” he said as he stood, leaving the hoodie in our hands.  You pulled in on swiftly, catching the eye of your dad at the table just behind, and you smiled at him fondly.

You were out in the mountains, out in the small town Maya grew up in, at the motel her parents had owned and operated all her life.  They’d inherited it from her grandfather, who had passed before she’d ever had the chance to meet him; his picture adorned the tiny front office, the black and white portrait hung proudly on the wall.  It was a quaint and well maintained little place, boasting twelve rooms per floor, and two stories.  It had been a no brainer to hold the wedding here; Maya’s parents had insisted the field behind would make for a great venue, and had mowed and trimmed and prepped everything perfectly in preparation for their daughter’s big day.

Though they’d intended a medium sized affair, the wedding ended up being pretty large, more guests needing to stay at another motel down the road, one that thankfully was’t completely booked up for the weekend.  You and San had a room here, right next to Tina and Maya’s; being the maid of honor certainly had it’s perks, and you’d enjoyed the work of organizing you, Sasha, Bibi, and Micah into a perfect set of bridesmaids.  

As a part of the wedding party, you sat at the biggest table for the rehearsal dinner, right next to your best friend, with your handsome plus one by your side.  Micah was there too, as were all the other bridesmaids and groomsmen, many of whom were also girls.  “This has to be the gayest wedding ever,” Maya remarked when all of you had stood in place, a mixture of genders dotting either side.  You could’t have thought of a better group to be with; there was no drama, no fighting, just plenty of laughter and joy and excitement.

The rehearsal had gone well, much to everyone’s relief.  Things felt rushed and chaotic in the lead up to this weekend, but you figured that was always the case with weddings; it wasn’t like life could be paused, and fitting in all the extra work between other responsibilities was difficult.  Thankfully Maya’s parents could be relied upon for so much, and the place was perfect, food delicious, and venue set just right.

As the sun set, bathing the small field in orange and purple light, yawns were abound.

“Sweetie, we’re going to head back to our room now,” your mother said, her hand on your shoulder.  Your parents were staying at the other motel, just minutes down the road.

“Did you enjoy the sopes?” you asked, smiling as you rose out of your seat to give her a hug.

“So delicious, I haven’t had one in too long,” she sighed, licking her lips.

“Those beans are so good, huh?”

“Full of the good stuff, lard,” she added, and you both chuckled as you separated.  Your twin got up too to give hugs of goodbye, and you made your way towards your Dad, his back hunched in his wheelchair as he keenly observed the scene around him.

“How are you doing Dad?” you asked as you approached, leaning down to give him a hug.  His body was so stiff nowadays, it didn’t feel anything like it used to; hugging him was it’s own sort of sensation now, stilted but still so important to you.

“Good, fine,” he answered as he always did, your question really just a way of showing him you cared, even if you knew you’d never get an honest answer.

“Are you excited for tomorrow?”

“Oh yes, should be fun,” he lightly smiled, as much as the muscles of his face still let him.

“A little birdie told me the cake is going to be chocolate, so you’re in luck,” you smiled deviously, now grabbing onto his hand, letting it shake in yours.

“Ah, my favorite,” he said, attempting a chuckle.

“Okay dear, are you ready to head out?” your mom called as she walked your way, Micah in tow.

“Sure,” your Dad answered, letting you place his hand onto his lap gently.  “Oh, you tell San if he wants my old RPGs, they’re his.  I can send them with you next time you come visit.”

“Oh Dad, that’s really nice of you,” you answered, eyebrows turned up in admiration.  Now you knew what they’d been talking about earlier when the tables had first been set, and your dad called San over to ask him something while the rest of you fretted over tomorrow’s plans.

“Well, I can’t make use of them anymore,” he joked, again trying to smile.  “And neither of you two will use them, will you?”

“We somehow did not inherit the video game gene, unfortunately,” Micah responded.

“Probably for the best,” your Mom added, rifling through her purse to check for something before zipping it closed.  “Okay, goodnight everyone, we’ll see you tomorrow.”

You all wished them a goodnight too, before Micah started yawning as well, retiring to her room three doors down from yours after giving you a big hug.  She’d taken on extra shifts this week, now that she was finally working days and could handle it, but the adjustment was a challenge in and of itself.  Soon the whole field started clearing out, quite a few of Maya’s cousins and other family helping to clean up the area and ready the tables for the next day’s festivities, and you joined in for a moment, following their lead and helping where you could.

San sat lounging in his chair, even as everyone else bustled about and started to leave; being here was causing many thoughts to flood him, and there was relief in just letting them swirl in his head and eat at him.  It was the first time he’d seen your family again in all these years; he wasn’t sure what you’d told them, only knew that your mom was as overbearing with her praise as ever, and that your Dad seemed to genuinely respect him and appreciate his company.  Micah seemed pleased too, in her own way, that he was back.  He had no idea that it really was the difference in you that Micah was responding to, knowing that he’d caused it, that even though it had been so painful at the time, his departure from your life had been the catalyst for so much good.

You and your twin had been through change after change this past year, and though it could have been so easy to slowly grow apart and stop really talking, you didn’t let that happen.  When you visited your parents now you stayed with her in her apartment; she’d had one for years, but for some reason you’d both still stayed at your parent’s house in the living room when you came to the city.

It was habitual, and comfortable in a way, but not staying there anymore was one of those important boundaries you’d set; it allowed you both time with each other, time to process and deal with whatever new changes you were seeing.  Your Dad was only getting sicker, and your Mom was clearly struggling to cope with it; she wasn’t her best self in many ways, and you both knew that, as disappointing as it was.  You had much more capacity for understanding it now, and understanding Micah’s tempers too, knowing that she was the main person your mother relied upon, which wasn’t really fair.

You’d finally encouraged Micah to stand her own ground, and the relief of not always being the person your mother called when in crisis had helped her life improve immensely.  It was one of those patterns that had been established so long ago that she hardly could imagine a life without it.  But now that your mom had started going to therapy herself, and had a hospice team helping here and there with your Dad as needed, she didn’t need to rely on Micah so much.  It was a huge weight lifted, and for the first time in a while it seemed like your twin was living her life for herself.  Even she was finally dating again, and hanging out with a coworker she’d been friends with for years but never had the time to see on days off.

All of these changes showed in the body language of your family; everyone could tell that things were better, not just San, and no one needed a real explanation for it.  The hugs between you and Micah were longer and warmer, the look on your face when you gazed at your parents so much more caring.  It had taken losing San, of all things, for you to turn your life around, and that in and of itself could feel embarrassing; therapy had taught you not to think that way, though, to instead be simply thankful that you were spending your life in a better way now.

Parents.  Family.  It had always been a tough subject for you, one you dreaded talking about, one you avoided at all costs.  It was difficult to explain the true nature of just how severely your childhood had affected you; you’d never been without, always had food and shelter and the tools you needed, so it seemed strange to you that you’d always felt so uneasy.  You’d never had a lot, but you knew no one needed a lot to be happy; many of those with more money than you could dream of were miserable anyway, and some of the happiest people you knew were people who got by with very little.

What you didn’t understand back then was that without truly knowing yourself, you’d never be happy.  It didn’t matter what you had, what you’d accomplished, if you got the money or success or book deal of your dreams; none of it could make you happy if you didn’t dig down deep and rip open the part of you that always wanted to stay perfectly hidden.  The ugly underbelly of your heart was where the truth lied, buried underneath a myriad of complicated feelings: guilt and shame, panic, pain, self-importance, dissatisfaction, frustration, anger, fear.  It was what all kids take on when they’re young; the lie of life is to think that children are innocent, that they don’t understand the horrors happening around them.

You understood perfectly well.  Your Dad was sick at an age everyone thought was too young; your mom was forced to take care of an ailing husband far sooner than anyone thought she deserved; you and Micah had to raise yourselves, take care of your own feelings, not bother either of your parents with a single problem, because they truly didn’t have the time for you.

You’d both dealt with this differently; there was overlap in how closed off you were, but while Micah had taken a pragmatic and almost robotic approach to her life plans, you had fallen deep into the world of all things creative, needing the stories and songs and art to cope with the stresses you constantly felt.  You’d long regretted this, wished you could take yourself back to childhood and somehow reset your path to be just like your twin’s; there was plenty of cultural messaging to support that thought, but it wasn’t helpful, it wasn’t useful, and it wasn’t right.

Honest, that’s what you had to be.  With yourself, and with others, if you ever wanted to be happy.

“You feeling okay?” you asked San as you walked back to the table, still lounging comfortably in his fold-out chair.

“Yeah, just enjoying the breeze,” he sighed, looking around as you pulled out the chair next to him and sat down.  “You all finished cleaning up already?”

“Yeah, everyone’s heading inside,” you answered, wrapping yourself into a ball to fend off the chill in the air.

“You feeling okay?  Are you cold?”

“Yeah, a little,” you chuckled, sucking in a breath through clenched teeth.

“Wanna get up and walk for a moment?”

“Okay.”

You both slid out easily, San pushing in your chairs before you had the chance to yourself.  The field was nearly cleared out completely; each table was blank but a small vase in the middle, every chair pushed in, not a soul in close range.  The only people still visible were Tina and Maya, who had walked back to the small arch her mother had set up, decorated with an assortment of flowers she found in the trees behind the motel.  They were desert mountain flowers, not particularly bright or vibrant, but gorgeous in their simplicity, in the knowledge of how much they endured and how beautifully they still stood.

They held such meaning to you, seemed a perfect addition to the occasion; you were so excited for your best friend to get married beneath that beautiful little archway, her father-in-law  officiating the wedding.  Tina and Maya stood there talking a mile a minute, hands clasped together, smiles bright, barely visible in the waning sunset.

“How did Antin seem Wednesday at rehearsal?” San asked as you started moving, taking the little path that followed the perimeter of the field, walking past the lines of chairs set out for the next day’s ceremony.

“He seemed fine, why do you ask?”

“I just worry about him, I know he texted me that things are going well but I also know he gets really nervous and doesn’t want to show it,” he said, sighing slightly.

“He’s doing fine, I don’t think you need to worry about him,” you answered, hoping your words were reassuring.  “It’s always a tough thing to adjust to, a new directer.  If you think about it, it’s almost like getting an entirely new boss every few months.  Or having multiple at once, that are all asking different things from you.  It’s a lot to adjust to I think, honestly, I’m kind of thankful I’m not an actor.  It looks fun up on stage but it’s a bizarre world behind the scenes.”  

You knew the honesty might not be completely comforting, but you also felt this sense with him that withholding any thoughts was a bad idea.  As much as San wanted to protect Antin’s feelings, you wanted to protect San’s, but you knew that wasn’t how this worked.  You had to all trust each other, to believe that no matter what occurred, you would all be okay.

“I don’t know if he can handle harsh critiques, even if he says he can,” San added.

“He’s not getting harsh critiques, only copious amounts of praise.  Seriously, the director loves him, and I love him, he’s doing really well.  It’s just a hard play, the cast is so fucking huge.”  You’d neared the end of the field and turned the corner, now walking behind the entire set up for the wedding, your two friends still standing together under the little archway.  Your eyes flashed to them but you forced them away, not wanting to stare at what probably was a very special moment.  The last night they’d be simply fiancees, simply awaiting their inevitable union; your head shook involuntarily as you tried to process the change about to come, but you couldn’t.

“I just want everything to work out so that he can stay.”  The sentence left San’s lips with such weight that you stopped, placing a hand on his arm to stop him too.  The touch was such a surprise that he paused jerkily, looking to you.

“Sorry,” you said quickly, pulling it away.  “I just-“

“It’s okay,” he said, eyes softening, stepping closer to you again.

“I just wanted to comfort you, I can tell you’re worried about your friend, but we haven’t made any plans to change our agreement…”  Your eyes flicked over his entire body before moving to the trees behind him, knowing you’d need to broach this conversation now, because you were having this feeling now.

“What are you thinking about?” 

“I want to be able to hug you,” you replied, words whooshing out of you with satisfying relief.

“Then come here,” he said, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into the first hug you’d shared in months.  His warm body was a welcome comfort against the chilly air; you melted into him, wrapping your arms around his waist, not squeezing but simply letting your body rest within his.

“I’m sorry that it’s still up in the air whether Antin can stay or not,” you said, rubbing your head against his chest subtly.

“It’s okay, it is what it is,” he answered, but the sigh that wracked through him was deep enough to shake his entire torso, and you could feel it all the way down to his gut.

“It’s not okay, you should always be able to live near your best friend,” you answered.  “Obviously that’s not how life works, but it’s valid if that’s upsetting to you.”

“It is upsetting.”  Gentle silence hung, but you knew it was a challenge for him to be this vulnerable, and you wanted to say something that would neither embarrass nor discourage him.

“It is,” you finally answered, parroting him.  “But you’ll be okay even if he has to move again.  You were okay before.  And you should enjoy the time you have with him now, and not worry about him so much.  He’s an adult, he can take care of himself.”

“But I want to make sure he’s here if I can,” San sighed.

“That’s not something you can control.”

“I wish it was,” he added, too quickly.

“I know Sannie, you wish you could control everything,” you chuckled softly, trying to ease the tension of his previous statement.

“For everyone’s benefit, not for some selfish gain,” he responded, sucking in a breath.

“I know, but it’s still not how life works.”

“I know, baby.”

That nickname had never left, not even as you’d put a moratorium on physical touch; you’d always be that to him, there was no getting away from it.  And as sweet as he meant it, as wholesome and kind as he was being, it always stoked something fiery within you. You giggled as he said it, at the word and also at his tone.  Therapy had turned you into quite the advice giver, and though you sometimes worried you were overbearing, for the most part your friends and family appreciated the wisdom you shared.  But San’s use of that word made it clear he was done with the serious conversation for now.

“Control is only okay in one context,” he laughed, and you shook your head and laughed with him, poking him slightly in the ribs.

“Don’t talk about that right now,” you pouted, the heat between you growing with a fierce speed, just at the mention of something suggestive.

“Why not?” he chuckled lowly, knowing exactly what was happening to you.  Though he respected your boundaries, he couldn’t help how fun it was to mess with you; the crinkle of your eyes as you fought your smiles, the warmth that radiated off you as you got lost in the feelings and fun, and forgot the heaviness of your worries.  When you laughed San found you grew wings, like you were flying on wind he was sending your way.

“Sannie,” you pouted again, laughing as you pushed away from him gently, hardly strong enough to actually put any distance between you.

“Sorry, I just like hearing you laugh,” he chuckled, loosening his grip, but not completely letting go.  Your left hand found a home against his his torso, able to feel the hard plane of it even through the layers of clothing.  His hoodie and sweats hung off of him comfortably, but there was nothing wholesome about the way your touch was making him feel; a simple hug didn’t need to feel so complicated, but it did when so much time had passed, when physical space had stood between you for so long.

It had allowed the mental walls to come down, just as you both needed.  

As you peered over your shoulder again you saw your two friends hadn’t moved from their spot, but Maya was now down on one knee as if she was proposing again, and Tina stood laughing and covering her face, tears surely forming in her eyes.  San’s gaze followed yours, Tina’s laughter carrying through the quiet night air.  It was so strange to feel such desire when witnessing something you’d never wanted; you’d had some level of confusion about this since the two got engaged, not sure why you were so damn excited if marriage was something you’d never really believed in.

In that moment, held in San’s arms and held by the guarantee that he’d always be honest with you, you finally understood.  They both had always wanted this, had wished to share this promise with someone special and share that someone special with their friends and family alike.  There was beauty in companionship that was so aligned in it’s goals, and that was what you envied slightly, what you truly wanted for yourself.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay if we never do that?” you asked San, watching as Maya stood up and captured Tina’s lips in a kiss, one that started sweet but grew deeper, more passionate, their hands grasping at each other’s faces before they fell into a tight hug.

“Yes, I’m sure, we’ve been over this,” San answered you, turning the two of you away to leave them their privacy, neither of you sure if they even knew you were here.

“But if your mind changes in the future, will you feel like you’ve wasted your time with me?” you added, staring into the blankness of the forest, holding onto him more tightly again.

“Who’s to say it won’t be you who changes your mind?”

“I guess that’s possible,” you sighed.  “But I just really don’t see it happening.”

“And either way, I won’t care,” he said, setting his head on top of yours and squeezing his arms around you.

“You’re sure, Sannie?”

“Yes I’m sure, it does’t matter to me now.  Life is too short, and marriage is not some end goal necessary for happiness, even if some people think it is.  I know that isn’t true.  I know I was quite slow in learning that lesson, but I finally have.”  The deep breath he let out made his whole body shudder, his voice low and grumbly in a way that was making your mind a bit fuzzy.  The words felt too good to be true, too; he was right, this conversation had happened several times over, your friend’s engagement making the subject front and center in your mind at almost all times.

“You don’t believe me still?” he asked, your thoughtful silence lasting longer than you realized.

“No, I do, it’s just…” you couldn’t find the words, there were too many you wished to condense into one succinct sentence, but you couldn’t find a way.  

“All I want is you, in whatever way I can have you,” he sighed, squeezing even tighter.  “I’m never fucking letting you go.”

“Sannie,” you giggled, face getting crushed under his bicep, your breathing cut off.

“Unless things are bad again between us, then we both need to step away,” he continued, the rational side of his brain kicking in.  “I really just want us both to be happy.”

“Me too,” you sighed, wriggling to get more comfortable in his grasp, your body finding this prolonged proximity intoxicating, so easy to fall back into his chest and arms and every inch of him.  “Sannie?”

“Hm?”

“I’m tired of our little boundary,” you sighed.

“You like hugging me again that much?” he joked.

“I do, don’t make fun,” you whined, craning your head up to look him in the eye.

“I do too,” he whispered, dropping any hint of humor from his tone, just smiling at you sweetly with those deep dimples, his eyes heavy even if he tried to keep them open.

“Can we say no more to the no touching rule?  It’s been like what, six months?  I think we’re in a spot now that we can handle it,” you sighed.

“You want to remove the rule completely?”

“Yes, completely,” you nodded, taking in a deep breath and looking at him with wide, sure eyes.

“Completely?” he asked again, fixing you with a similar gaze.  Though it was a genuine question, the implication of it made you break into a small giggle, looking away from him for a moment, your neck craning to the right.

“Yes,” you said once you’d recovered, looking back up to him with a wishful gaze.  It wasn’t long until he was moving into you more, his arms locking around your waist more sturdily, his gaze sharper and heavier than you had seen it in all these months since you started seeing him again.  He was moving slowly and with care, observing your reactions to him, making sure that your words were true, that you really wanted this.  It was clear in your body’s reaction, frankly had been clear for months now that you’d really wanted this, but were holding back for your own good, and for the sake of him too.  It had been a long time; six months was a crazy length to date someone without ever kissing, ever touching beyond a few hugs, especially when you'd already fucked countless times and knew just how good it always was.

His lips met yours with heat, and immediately the months of prolonged waiting and wishing were made completely worth it; he was soft and gentle against you at first, taking his time opening you up, the way he’d always liked to do.  He coaxed his lips along your’s gently, pulling back slightly to tell you to start parting your’s, using the soft brush of his tongue along your bottom lip to help you open even further.  His tongue on yours again sent immediate ripples of pleasure straight through you, landing in your core and stoking that fire that had been waiting to be set free for too long.

Your hands snaked under his hoodie and shirt as you let him devour you as he wanted to; he was heftier than he’d been before, the years apart spent in the gym working on himself, taking care of himself in the best way he could.  It was hard for you to comprehend the thicker layers of muscle you found; you’d seen it through shirts he’d worn in the summer but hadn’t touched it yet, didn’t understand how tough and sturdy it felt, yet all warm and inviting and comforting too.  San was tipping his head to the side, careful to avoid your glasses still balanced precariously on your nose; you hadn’t had the chance to kiss with them on yet, didn’t realize the ways you’d need to maneuver around them.  You reached a hand up to pull them off, holding them off to the side as you kissed him again, worried at any moment you might drop them and loose them in the darkness of the evening.

San could feel the tension enter your body in an instant; his own hands had started snaking under your hoodie and holding your back, feeling the muscles of your shoulder flexing hard as you held onto your glasses for dear life.

“Baby,” he huffed as he pulled back, breaking the kiss.  “Let’s go set those down inside.  In our room.”  He chuckled at the pout on your face, your body feeling like it was missing what it needed now that you weren’t so intensely connected.

“Sannie, I need you,” you whimpered, holding onto his arm for dear life as he started moving.  The need pooling between your legs was overwhelming to a point that your rational thoughts had left you, even if you were worried about your precious glasses too.  It had been an agonizing wait, and the relief that awaited you dangled in front of your nose, egging your body along in it’s growing arousal and neediness.

“You have me, I’m right here,” he huffed, grabbing the glasses out of your hand and folding them closed, holding them with the utmost care as you clung to his other arm.  “Come on, we have a bed in there, we can actually…”

You whined instead of completing his sentence, your mind flying with images of what was to come.

“Stop leaning on me like that,” he continued, his left shoulder working overtime to carry your weight along with him, as he made his way back towards the building.  “Come on, let me carry you.”

You whined in response, still clearly so deep into a lustful headspace that you couldn’t respond with words.

“Baby don’t leave me right now, come back to me,” he said, turning to face you and prop his free hand on the side of your face, so you had no choice but to look at him.

“I’m sorry, I’m here,” you pouted, sighing and coming back into the moment slowly.

“No leaving me tonight, I don’t want you doing that unless we’ve agreed, you know, we’re doing that…”  He trailed off with a soft smile and you were sure in the light of day you would have seen his cheeks flush.

“Yes, San,” you answered, head tilting down in slight embarrassment, but your eyes rose to meet his and you gazed through the top of your lashes longingly.

“Don’t look at me like th- you know what, just-“  He cut himself off by stepping towards you, leaning down to put his left shoulder against your hips and hoist you over his shoulder entirely.

“San!” you called out, giggling as you rag-dolled over him, his left hand holding onto your legs for balance and right hand gingerly carrying your glasses still.

“Have a good night!” San called to your friends as he passed by them, making quick work of the small path.

“You too!” Tina called back laughing, and you raised your head awkwardly to stick your tongue out at her, making her laugh more.  Distracted by the image of them you hadn’t noticed it, but as soon as you turned the corner and were walking down the concrete path that lined the front doors of the motel rooms, San’s hand against the back of your thigh was all you could think about.

It was so close to where you needed him, you were almost worried he’d start to feel how wet you’d become from that kiss by the woods.  As he came to your room he handed you the glasses back, reaching into his pocket for the key.  You had to work at concentrating enough not to drop them; you didn’t realize how thoroughly your body was buzzing with need when your brain had dropped so far, but now it was impossible to ignore.  Once inside he grabbed the glasses back from you without setting you down, placing them safely on the table in the corner before making for the bed, finally tossing you down on it and staring at you with labored breaths.

You were finally here again, watching him rip off his hoodie with so little effort, his t-shirt riding up and exposing the strongly muscled plane of his stomach.  As soon as his was off he was pulling at your’s too, and you were pulling at his shirt, and the two of you were a mess of arms and legs and giggles, your hoodie getting stuck on your hair and making you yelp.

“Sorry, your hair is so much longer now,” San laughed, pulling back to help you untangle yourself gently and without pain.

“So is yours,” you huffed in response, grabbing onto it once your hoodie was off and giving it a slight tug.

“You like it?” 

“Yeah, it looks really good,” you smiled, pulling him into a kiss and wrapping your legs around his waist, his hips coming flush with yours.  “You should get an undercut, it would look so cool.”

“Yeah?”  He rolled his hips into yours as he said it, placing his mouth on your neck and kissing there, hard.

“Yeah,” you moaned, making him chuckle into your skin, moving up your neck further until he was at your ear, winding his tongue around the small ring that sat in your lobe.  It only made you moan louder, the feeling going straight to your head; it was going to be hard to stay as present as he wanted you, when all your body wanted to do was completely let go and give in.  But you understood why he’d said it, and now that he had you wouldn’t disobey; it had been so long since you’d done this, and he needed to know that you wanted it, that you weren’t lying, that this was a decision made of sound body and sound mind.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he said as he pulled back and got a good look at you, using the opportunity to begin pulling at your little sweater and tugging it off.  There was nothing underneath, he had noticed it all day and fought with himself not to stare.  It had been like this all these months; you still often went without them, and still wore so many of the articles of clothing he remembered ripping off of you.  It had truly been a test of his will, and he honestly couldn’t be more proud of how well he’d resisted his urges.

Many nights had been spent with his cock in his hand, but it had been enough.  It had been enough, then.

“Fuck, I missed this,” he sighed as he flicked his tongue around your right nipple, and it pebbled immediately under his touch, his lips moving to suck gently.  You threw your head back in pleasure, forgetting just how good this felt and how well his body knew yours.  His mouth was like a ballerina, trained and precise in it’s movements, never faltering once; he moved to your other nipple swiftly, and that one hardened too, your legs and arms clasping him harder.

“Sannie,” you whined, not sure why you did.

“What baby?” he asked, pulling off of you to kiss down your chest and tummy further, moving his hands to the waist of your shorts and starting to pull.  You mumbled in response but it was unclear, your brain fighting with you.  “What is it, talk to me.”

“I can’t, I-“  You cut yourself off with a sharp breath, one that made San stop himself.

“Something’s wrong,” he said, not a hint of a question in his tone.

“No, no,” you sighed, holding onto his head, pulling yourself up to be more normally seated.

“Yes,” he replied, knowing.

“I just can’t stay… here…”  You gestured around, hand swirling to refer to the room; your breathing was already ragged somehow, and you could feel your pulse in your fingers and toes.

“What can I do?”

“Just, talk to me, I don’t know, just don’t shut up,” you mumbled, head braced against his shoulder, needing shooting through you so severely you could feel the comforter growing wet beneath you.

“Is it hard to believe this is actually happening?” he asked.

“Mmhm,” you nodded against him.

“Come here, look at me,” he said, taking your head in his hands and holding your gazes level. “I feel that way too, but it is, we’re here, we’re doing this.”  You just nodded with a slight pout, your eyes so glazed and cheeks so flushed that San thought he might come on the spot.  “You sure you’re ready for this?”

“I need it,” you cried, the words coming out ragged.

“Then you’ll have it baby, whatever you want.  Tell me what you want.”

“Your cock,” you mumbled, reaching forward to pull at San’s own shorts.  He laughed hard in response, but helped you tug them down, stepping onto the floor again to reveal himself entirely.  You salivated immediately, stumbling forward to drop to your knees, your shorts still awkwardly holding your thighs together and your back slumping against the side of the bed. 

“Baby, come on,” he said, lifting you up a moment to help you pull your shorts off, and now you were naked like him and completely exposed, the first time in months, the first time in years, and you were both older and thicker and stronger, and it made the room feel heavy with heat.

“I wanna taste you,” you pouted, dropping to your knees again as soon as you had the chance.

“Come here then,” he said, holding the back of your head gently, snaking his hand trough your hair.  He moved his aching, leaking cock in front of your face, waiting for your lips to open to push it towards you further.  You immediately grabbed the base of his shaft with one hand, licking the underside of his tip while looking up, needing to see the reaction.  His cheeks were flushed like yours but his eyes were sharper, and from below the giant mass of his shoulders was almost too much to bear.  He hissed when you finally made contact, face scrunching in pleasure, the hand on your head steady but not pushing.

There was a reverent quality to what you were doing; you weren’t sure where it had come from, this desire to suck him off, you’d never really done this much and never really liked to, but the need had come over you and nothing felt better than kneeling here in front of him and taking all of his thick length that you could.  He felt bigger than you remembered; these past years you’d been certain you had always overblown his size, that it was the inaccuracy of memory that gave you the impression that he was unbelievably large.  You’d often giggled to yourself at night, both desire and pain squeezing your heart, touching yourself in nostalgia for what had been.  But here in front of him you knew your memories had not lied; it seemed like he’d gotten even bigger, that every part of him had.

“You wanna be good for me tonight?” he asked, softly brushing hair out of your face as you kept working yourself up and down on him, covering his entire length in a thick trail of spit.  You nodded at his question, eyes flashing open to meet his again, before they shut as you gagged on him fully.  “Fuck,” he groaned under his breath, involuntarily.  “I want you to be good for me too baby, do what I say.”

“Yes, San,” you answered him, popping off for a moment.

“Good girl,” he replied, a scene starting to unfold, but one that wasn’t laced with a dark intense control, just a subtle one.  It was the only way you’d stay present as he wanted, he realized that moments ago when you whined in frustration; he certainly didn’t mind it, if it meant he got what he wanted, got to have you here and present and looking in his eyes as he made you feel good.

With a gentle nudge he pulled your head back towards him, and you took him down your throat as far as you could, bobbing on him while staring up, tears and droll starting to fall down your face as you tried desperately to breath through your nose.  The look on his face, equal parts loving and lustful, was so enthralling it egged you on further; no one had ever looked at you like that, and no one else ever would, you were sure of it.

“Fuck, baby, stop for me,” he sighed, holding onto your head as he pulled out, breath hitching when you sucked hard on his tip one final time.  “I’m gonna cum all over your face if you keep doing that.”  You giggled and stared up with a bright smile, your eyes heavy.  “Maybe you want that,” he chuckled, and you nodded, still smiling.  “Okay, you will get what you want, but first I get what I want.”

You nodded and stood, his hands holding under your arms to help you.  He was quick to capture you in a kiss again, a deep one with his tongue in your mouth, like he was staking his claim on it.  One hand was around your back and one was behind your head, holding you to him as you arched back a bit, the ease of the movement making it clear just how much stronger he’d gotten.  Your head went fuzzy again at the thought, and you ran your hands over his chest and arms to feel the taught muscle, then ran them down along his abs and felt the clear lines between them all.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked, unbelievably cocky for him, and your head spun.

“Yeah, you’ve gotten so big,” you sighed, his lips back on yours in a second, a dark chuckle escaping the back of his throat.  It was about the best thing he could hear, making his cock twitch against your leg, your bodies involuntarily bucking against each other, finding any bit of pleasure they could.

“And you’ve gotten so fucking curvy, fuck,” he sighed, landing a smack against your ass, making you yelp and jump into him.  He laughed, turning you around and bending you over the bed, pushing you forward so you were forced to crawl on to all fours, your ass sticking high in the air in front of him.  He kneeled down and licked a long, slow stripe up your slit, reveling in the taste and groaning into you, the vibration echoing through your core.

“You taste so fucking good baby,” he sighed, dipping in for more, sucking hard on your clit and making you yelp again, chuckling lowly at it.  It was a rush of power to be doing this again, for the wall to finally be down and your body free to be used, to be touched, to be tortured.  He didn’t want to do that tonight, not yet, he wanted this to be sweet and wholesome and full of emotion, but you two just never seemed to be able to achieve that; you were too freaky for that, not intentionally but inherently, and it always came out in these moments no matter what San thought he’d be able to avoid.

With swift circles around your clit he had you moaning in seconds, your hips pushing into his face to chase further pleasure.  His nose was pushing into your entrance and had you whimpering at that possibility of being filled completely, that way that only he ever had, that way that you cousin’t achieve yourself no matter how hard you tried.  The angle was just never right, and nothing felt hot and heavy inside you the way his cock did; you salivated at the thought as he sucked harder, your clit so alight in pleasure you almost blacked out, your moans turning pathetic and loud.

“Fuck baby I gotta fuck you,” San groaned at the sound, so turned on and so hard he felt like was going to explode.  He could hold out for a long time, something he had always been quite proud of, but sometimes in moments with you he was so overcome that he couldn’t; he really didn’t want that to be today, not when this was the first time in so long that you finally were letting him in like this.  But even if he wanted to make you cum enough times that you lost count, he also was so hard he couldn’t stop himself, needing his own pleasure too, needing to feel you squeezing down around him.  He pulled back from your pussy with a pop, lining himself up quick and thrusting in hard, your arms falling out beneath you as your shoulders hit the bed.

“You feel so fucking good, fuck,” he groaned again, and you whined and mewled and went completely incoherent at it, the rough tone making you feel like prey, like you were his and only his, like you’d forced him to hold back from this pleasure he deserved for too long.  Now he was taking it and making you pay, the thrusts so strong they were both pleasing and painful, but you loved it more than anything and needed it harder even, wanted him to pound into you as hard as he possibly could.

“Harder, harder,” you managed to squeak out, mouth muffled against the comforter, as you tried not to completely scream your head off and make everyone in the motel aware of your current position.

“Harder?  Are you sure baby?” San asked above you.

“Please, please,” you whined, arching further, looking back at him with tear-stained eyes full of want.

“Fuck, my crazy girl,” he sighed, gripping your hips to snap harder, hitting a spot so deep and perfect that with seconds you were coming undone, squeezing down on him as your thighs shook uncontrollably.  “Baby, baby, fuck, ahh, you’re squeezing me so hard,” San hissed through gritted teeth, maintaining his pace and the pleasure he was getting from it.  He didn’t let up until he could tell the aftershocks were hitting you; he pulled out quickly, flipped you over, and fell into your arms, locking you in a deep kiss before pulling back to find your cunt again.

“Need to see your beautiful face,” he groaned as he pushed back in, so close himself, using every bit of strength not to cum just yet.  He threw your legs over his shoulders and held onto them tight, loving how your face twisted up and your mouth went agape with all the pleasure you were feeling.  “You like that baby?” he asked after another sharp snap of his hips, your legs starting to shake again, your body buzzing.

“Yes Sannie, yes,” you mumbled, holding onto him, grabbing for any bit of skin you could find.  “I’m gonna cum again,” you cried, eyes squeezed shut, cunt so sensitive that you felt like you hadn’t even come down from your last orgasm before this one started blooming.  Waves of pleasure washed over you; you had no recollection of feeling this way in your life, something about it was so deep and intense that you wanted to scream, and San could sense it in a heartbeat and put a hand over your mouth as you came around him again, your entire body convulsing.

“Breathe baby, breathe,” he said as he helped you through it, releasing his hand and stroking it down your cheek comfortingly, even as he continued to thrust hard.  “You still want me to cum on your face?”

“Please,” you managed, opening your eyes enough to pout at him directly.  Your body was spent but your mind still desired the sensation of it, and you found yourself pushing up and stumbling to the ground even as the muscles of your legs still shock and spasmed.

“Fuck, baby, careful,” San said, his cock popping out of you with a loud squelch and ripping the orgasm about to wash over him away.  But he knew with just a few more strokes he’d be done for; this whole turn of events had been overwhelming in the best way, his nerves on fire, his body feeling super charged.  He helped you to your knees gently and then stood up above you, starting to stroke his red and leaking cock, holding it just inches from your face.  Your tongue lolled out of your mouth at the sight, and you managed to reach forward and actually lick him, right as his orgasm hit and the ropes of cum starting pouring out, painting your tongue completely, and your cheeks and nose and forehead too.

“Holy fuck, shit baby, ah,” San groaned above you, his eyebrows pulled together in an almost pained look, the ecstasy he was feeling so severe it was almost blinding.  In the years you had been together he’d only done this a handful of times, and though there were so many ways he loved to cum when he was with you, something about the slightly degrading nature of it in this moment felt so perfectly representative of everything that had changed.

You sat staring up at him, breathing deep once you’d swallowed what you could, wiping more of him from your cheek and licking your finger clean.  San’s muscled chest heaved up and down as he tried to steady himself, his legs feeling weak and shaky now, causing him to sink to the ground too.  He brushed a hair out of your face that was stuck to your lips, chuckling at the dirty image in front of him, and the pleased look on your face.

“You like that?” he asked, finally, the moment stretching in a perfectly comfortable way.

“Mmhm,” you chuckled, scooting over to him and climbing on his lap, peppering wet sticky kisses all over every bit of his body you could reach.  His hold of you was strong and firm and indicated all of the intense feelings he was having; you were his again, in every way now, and though it had been kind of rough and far from wholesome, his heart was swelling with love at the thought of what you’d just done.

The trust was there now, for both of you; there was no further need for the strict boundary, because everything that needed to be said had been spoken, and seemingly every problem had been resolved.  He knew that nothing was ever perfect, and there was sure to be issues in the future, confusion or disagreements to resolve.  But now he was positive that between you the skills existed, that words could resolve every issue, that no longer would you get buried in each other and so codependent, using sex as a distraction to cover any bit of uncomfortable emotion.

It was different, this time; he felt it as you both cuddled in bed, as you showered together in comfortable silence, as you spoke softly of the day to come as the night wound to a close.  Sex between you now was all about connection, and for the first time in his life he understood why some people spoke of kinky acts with such reverence; to be so deeply entrusted to someone that you let them throw you around, hurt you, take control of you body entirely, was a remarkable thing, something only achieved through the upmost emotional maturity.  

Now, that maturity existed between you.  Everything else in life could ride on it, could thrive on it, and he no longer had to worry at all.

“Good morning sweet pea!” you called through the half-opened door, Maya’s mound of curly hair just visible, hanging off the corner of the bed.

“Too early,” Tina groaned as you entered their room, ten on the dot, the time you’d agreed upon.  Maya laughed, pushing the covers off of herself and sitting up, yawning deeply as she stretched.

“You two up late last night?” you asked her, closing the door quietly and walking towards them.  Maya just nodded, her smirk letting you know all you needed to.  They’d always been like this and you expected nothing less; you were certain tonight would be hours of fucking if all went to plan today.

“Baby, you told her to come this early, come on,” Maya sighed, but her tone was sweet and she smiled brightly as she rolled over to her soon to be wife, running a hand through her hair softly.

“This is not the day to sleep in and be late to your plans Ti,” you added, chuckling.

“I know, just give me a fucking second,” she mumbled, pulling her pillow over her head.  You and Maya erupted in laughter; how funny it was that even on this big day Tina was struggling to stay on schedule, her old habits dying hard.

“I brought you coffee,” you offered.

“Oh thank fucking god,” she sighed, finally pushing herself up, sticking out a hand before even opening her eyes.  Maya pushed up too and gave her a hug and kiss, before standing and grabbing her phone and keys.

“Well I’ll be off, see you in a few hours,” she said, giving you a hug too, then leaving.  This morning they’d agreed to be as separate as possible, wanting to be surprised by whatever the other was wearing.  You couldn’t wait to see their faces and inevitable tears of joy; you knew you’d be joining in on the waterworks, you’d warned everyone already and had water-proof mascara along for that very reason.

“You ready for today Ti?” you asked once it was just you two, sitting on the bed in front of her, watching her hungrily sip at the warm drink in her hands.

“I think so,” she chuckled, sighing.

“You nervous?”

“Well, yeah,” she mumbled.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I just am.  There’s been so much buildup, so much shit going on, if something goes wrong it’ll feel like all that work was for nothing,” she said, lips turning down slightly in a pout.

“I will make sure nothing goes wrong, that’s why I’m here babe,” you smiled, grabbing her hands and pulling them into her lap.  “You just focus on having fun today and enjoying yourself.”

“Okay, I’ll try my best,” she answered, a small smile forming on her lips.

It was only thirty minutes later that the rest of the bridesmaids arrived; Sasha and Bibi brought her dress, carefully carrying it between them in a huge black garment bag.  Sasha’s huge makeup bag was slung over one of her shoulders, and you quickly ran back to your room to grab the supplies you needed to do Tina’s hair, having forgotten them in the morning.

When you entered your room San was just stirring; your alarm had woken him earlier, but he was tired and it was the weekend, so he let himself sleep more.  His long hair was laying messily over his face, and the low grumble he let out as he stretched was too beautiful a sound to ignore; you stumbled over to the bed, sat next to him and leaned down to pepper kisses over his cheeks, making him grab onto you and actually kiss you.  He hadn’t said a word yet this morning, hadn’t done hardly anything but yawn and roll over; kissing you first thing was the best start to the day, something he could surely get used to.

“Why are you here?” he asked, running a hand through his hair and yawning.

“Forgot my curling iron and hairspray and bobby pins, and… yeah basically everything I need,” you laughed, looking towards the small vanity in the corner of the room where you’d laid everything out the day before.

“Cause you’re too excited?” San asked, pushing up to his elbows.

“I guess so,” you chuckled, brushing away hair that had again fallen in his eyes.

“I really need to get it cut, goddamn.”

“No please don’t, I love it so much,” you pouted, running your hands through it, tugging slightly on his roots.

“You just like doing that,” he murmured, his eyes closing again as his voice dropped.

“Maybe,” you giggled, doing it again, slightly harder.

“Are you trying to make me hard?”

“No, I-“

He cut you off by grabbing you, his body suddenly alight in energy even though the remnants of sleep were still in his eyes.  Pinning you to the bed he kissed you hard, moving to your cheek and your neck, your laughter building the whole time as your body tried to recover from the surprise of his movements.

“You think it’s funny to make me hard first thing in the morning?” he asked through labored breaths, but he was laughing too, his dimples popping in that way that always made your heart ache.

“Sannie,” you sighed, staring into his eyes mere inches from yours, before kissing him again, softly.

“I know you need to get back to her, I just had to do that,” he chuckled, sitting back on his knees, helping you up.  You could see through his sweats that he was in fact hard, and you looked at his bulge rather pathetically; you felt bad he’d have to deal with it himself this morning, the whole day stacked with plans, not a chance for you to help him.

“Stop looking like that, I can handle myself for a day,” he chuckled.  “What’s a day when I lasted six months?”

You snorted, slapping his shoulder playfully and dipping your head in what almost felt like embarrassment; you weren’t sure why, but now that things were changing and that period of celibacy was behind you, it already was starting to feel sort of ridiculous.

Ridiculous, but needed.  The time that had allowed things to blossom again, to regrow, stronger, healthier, with deeper roots.  There was no breaking your bond now, not with how gracefully and intentionally it had been repaired.

“Go, don’t be late.  I’ll see you later,” he smiled, kissing you once more before moving off the bed, allowing you to do the same.  You quickly scrambled to grab your things, heading back out the door and jogging the twelve feet next door, the entire room already a tornado when you returned.

“What took you so long, miss thing?” Sasha asked as soon as you entered, already starting on Tina’s face makeup, the group of you wanting all the time in the world to get this perfectly right.

“Oh nothing, just San was up, so…”  You gestured with your hands as if they explained anything, fighting a smile forming on your lips.

“Did something happen last night?” Tina asked, and immediately your eyes snapped up, feeling like she’d read your mind.

“How could you tell?”

“Last night he was carrying you over his shoulder,” she laughed, forcing Sasha to pull back her sponge for a moment.

“Yeah?”

“And we saw you guys kissing,” she continued.

“Oh, well, shit, I didn’t think y’all even knew we were there,” you snorted, and the entire room’s eyes were on you, shocked by everything Tina had just said, knowing all about your agreement with San.

“So you guys are done with your no touching rule?” Micah asked, starting to apply her own makeup in her tiny portable mirror propped up on the bed.

“Yeah,” you smiled, and the entire room started cheering, making you cover your face and groan a bit.  

“I feel like you all are more excited than me,” you laughed, shaking your head at each one of them.  “This day is about Tina, too, I don’t want to overshadow that.”

“You won’t mija, but this is such good news!” Bibi responded, everyone nodding in agreement.  “Felicidades y lo mejor.”

“Gracias Bibi,” you replied, smiling genuinely, finally organizing yourself enough to start working on Tina’s hair.  You sidled up behind her, plugging the curling iron into the wall, before getting to work sectioning off her hair and clipping it up.  The room fell into a steady lull of meticulous work, and as you finished curling the bottom section of her hair, Tina finally spoke.

“So, did you fuck last night, or what?”

“Titi,” you laughed, nearly burning yourself in the process.  “I have a very hot weapon in my hand right now.”  You mimicked hitting her with it which made her jump a tiny bit, Sasha scolding your for messing around and almost messing her up, too.

“So you did,” Tina laughed, reaching back her hand to try and poke you.

“Yeah, yeah we did,” you mumbled, laughing as Sasha howled, your twin completely crumbling in laughter, having not experienced the many funny voices and faces of your hilarious coworker.

It took many hours of meticulous work, but eventually as the afternoon wore on you’d all transformed Tina into the bride of her dreams, her hair curled and fluffy, her makeup soft but not subtle, her dress so perfectly fitted she looked like a Disney princess.  She’d gone with a sleeveless option, the new tattoo on her right upper arm visible, the bottom of the dress flowing and huge like her hair, covering the dainty white heels she was wearing.  After scarfing down some food, you all made final adjustments to your own hair and makeup, having worked in shifts helping each other, doing whatever you felt looked good in the moment.  Tina and Maya hadn’t requested anything perfectly coordinated, just wanted you all there and feeling your best, happy smiles on your faces.  It was easy to fulfill their wish when the day had been so pleasant already, elation and joy filling the air as you all slipped into your dresses and made final touches to your faces.

You waited for the text from Tina’s mom that everyone was ready, then waited just outside the door for her to walk over and take Tina’s arm in hers.  The four of you made your way to the small ring of trees being used as a sort of backstage area, then lined up with the four groomsmen, and finally walked your way up the aisle, a small group of local musicians alighting the air with the atmosphere of dreams.

Maya looked sharp and stunning in her suit, just as you’d expected, and as you walked past her you smiled giddily, so excited to see her reaction to the masterpiece that was your best friend in her white dress.  As you all lined up either side of the arch, the music stopped, then swelled, and a new song was started; the song, the predictable one, the one Tina had requested specifically.  She’d always loved Mendelssohn’s Wedding March in C Major, as cheesy as it was; she had always dreamed of this day, and that song was always the soundtrack of all those dreams, a lullaby of future hope and happiness.

And as she turned the corner, as every head in the seats craned backwards, you focused your eyes on her partner, on the one who had made this dream come true for her.  Maya’s eyes were glassy with tears and she did a remarkable job holding them in, taking deep breaths to help steady her nerves.  Tina was also on the brink of tears, but doing a far worse job of hiding it; you saw one slip down her cheek as she neared the little arch, and Maya reached up to brush it free from her cheek, whispering something.

Your eyes scanned back over the rows of loved ones, catching on your mom, your dad, and then San, sat comfortably with your parents and smiling widely.  As Maya’s father commenced the ceremony everyone fell quiet, his wavering sing-song voice filling the air, but you weren’t making out any words, only the soft hum of them.  Your eyes were stuck on that beautiful handsome face; his deep brown eyes, his dimples, his hair falling slightly in front of his right eye. 

There he was, the love of your life.  In his eyes was the promise of love to come, of true companionship, and the proof that you’d changed, you’d grown, that you were so much better now.  Tina and Maya kissed, the rows of smiling people clapped and cheered, tears sprang in your eyes, and life felt about as right as it could.

(the end)

taglist: @pyeongstarr @hwaromi @hi00000234567 @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starhwa1024

@completelyjae @midnightrebel1028 @pautiny27 @snapcracklen @randajjjad

a/n pt. 2: as with my last series, it's truly blowing my mind that I even made it here. this series challenged me in many ways, I felt extremely unsure after finishing part 5 if I'd even be able to write the rest. I feel so proud that I found a way to do it, that I pushed on, and I can't thank you all enough for the response I've gotten.

the asks I've received about this story have absolutely blown my mind. to know so many of you have connected with the story and care so much about these two characters like I do is a spellbinding thought. if you ever have left comments, reblogs, or asks for me, know that I absolutely adore you and I think about your words often. feedback is what every author craves, and I feel so lucky to have received such kind words from you all.

tomorrow will be my one year anniversary of writing and posting fics on here, and to think back now at how much has changed, it's honestly hard to comprehend. though I don't struggle with romantic relationships the way our mc in this story does, there are always hurdles we face in life that seem incomprehensible at the time, that often we are hardly aware of. I hope that in the coming years I can go on a journey similar to hers, and I hope that you all can as well. Know that you deserve love, good and healthy love, without pain or confusion or fear. not just form others, but from yourself as well.

I love you all to pieces. thank you for everything <33333

[im-so-tired-sorry]

The Yellow Blanket

fantasy!kiribaku x pregnant!reader

a/n: this was an inbox ask/request but it was anonymous so idk who to tag ;-; but ik @ashthesalamipiece wanted to be tagged too so here that is lmao also lowkey inspired by the kiribaku fantasy series by Yuzuya on yt also also didnt really know how to end it so its a little rushed sorry

cw: pregnancy, lowkey dont know who the father is woops

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Your feet were killing you. You had been walking and standing at this new market that had been touring the village for a good couple hours. With your need to see what vendors and good were available in the town for such a limited time, you gained the motivation to leave the house, even if the rounded weight that centered in your lower abdomen compelled you into a waddle type of walk.

You knew you were due in a couple of weeks, at most a month. And as much as you loved your child more than anyone in the world and as much as you prayed for the healthiest birth, you needed to push this baby out now. The constant aches, pain and general discomfort had you begging your baby to come out already. But as much as you cringed at the sting from your heels and ankles as you took each step, you were beyond excited to meet your addition to your family.

Well, maybe not as excited as your husbands were.

Bakugo and Kirishima and been preparing for the last nine months to be the best dads in the world. Bakugo, learning safety precautions for you and the baby for the birth and the first couple weeks post partum. Kirishima, on the other hand, looked into proper care methods for him and Bakugo to learn in case you weren't around/out of the house. Both of them spent their time building furniture, baby proofing the house, and most importantly, pampering you for the past couple months to make sure you were in the most comfortable state of mind. You were the one carrying their child after all.

If we're being completely honest... none of you knew whose baby it was. The little kicks you endured starting your second trimester had Bakugo's passion and intensity, but the constant hunger and cravings indicated that Kirishima's endless stomach was inherited. Not to mention that no matter whose it was, it was a dragon soul and you had researched that regular humans have experienced more intense births when it was to a dragon soul. Did that freak you out? Maybe. But you knew it would be worth it and that you would take any type of pain as long as your child came out beyond healthy and happy.

"Jewel!" You heard your nickname being shouted across the market by the only dragon shifter, the only man, who would call you that. You turn to see Kirishima making his way through the crowd towards you, and you noticed Bakugo closely behind him.

"Hey, what are you doing here love? Are you ok? We thought you were going to be home by now." Kirishima instinctively scanned his eyes over you to make sure you weren't injured in any way. When his scan came out clean, he placed his hand on your stomach, almost as if to check the baby's vitals as well.

"I'm fine Ei," you placed your hand over his, "just saw there was a market in town on my way home and I wanted to check it out is all."

"Not in this weather. It's a million degrees out." Bakugo scolded as he fanned you. Your husbands were obviously protective of you and the baby, and they always meant well, but sometimes it seemed to sprout an idea of paranoia. Like now, they want to make sure the weather doesn't bother you and they know that the weight has been causing a pain on your feet recently. But it probably has devolved into the idea that any bead of sweat is the last before a heat stroke and that your legs will crumble if you take another step.

But he did have a point; the summer season was coming around and living in the warmer region has slowly been bringing an intense heat. Reluctantly, you agreed it was hot and allowed your husbands to carry your things as you three walked home.

Before reaching the end of the market however, you noticed a particular stand. There were various types of clothes, fabrics, handkerchiefs, and blankets. Out of the selection of blankets, one had caught your eye. You walked towards the stall, leaving your husbands behind, and you grabbed the blanket. It was a small, yellow one, made of soft cotton with a satin lining. The feeling of the cloth was perfect; as soon as you had grabbed it, you couldn't do anything but imagine your baby swaddled up in it.

"When is the little one due?" The merchant lady had asked. She was an older woman, her white hair wrapped in an updo as she fanned herself under the shade of her stall's tent. "Within the next month." You answered, a gleam of excitment hitting your voice as you answered.

Kirishima and Bakugo walked back towards you at the tent and examined what you were holding.

"Do you want it?" Bakugo asked, easily prepared to spoil you. All you had to do was look up at him and nod with a smile on your face before turning to the vendor. "How much for it?"

The old woman looked at you three for a moment. She noticed how Bakugo had placed his hand on the small of your back as he had approached you; how Kirishima held your hand while examining the softness of the blanket with sparkling eyes as you showed it off to him. She knew that this baby was going to be loved by three people who would pour thier hearts and souls for this child.

"Consider it a gift." She answered.

All three of you gave the old woman shocked looks.

"Oh... no ma'am. Thank you but this material and quality is way too valuable to give up without a price. Just let us know-" You were cut off by the woman enveloping her two hands into yours.

"My price is that you swaddle this baby up every night, not only with this, but with all the love and care it deserves. That is all I ask of you." Your eyes began to water; you coudn't tell if it was the genuine kindness or the hormones that were making you so emotional. Either way, you thanked the merchant profusely, and your husbands guided you away before you started crying in front of the stranger.

You held the blanket in your hands all the way home, thinking of how long the blanket could last; you thought of how long it would stay ith your child. A year? Five? Could this blanket possibly be passed down generations? In any way, you vowed to keep the old merchant's wish. Of loving and caring for your baby every night, and to keep them warm and safe and happy, with or without the blanket.

[gyuuberryy]

vanilla coconut !

pairing: sunshine!sunoo x grumpy!reader

genre: one sided enemies to lovers, sunshine x grumpy trope, barista au, christmas au

synopsis: it's winter break and instead of exploring switzerland with your friends, you're unwillingly working in your mom's cafe. to make matters worse, the new hire is a little too clingy and hyper, always adamant on getting you excited for the holiday season, much to your dismay. as you're forced to be around him for more than half of the day, every single day, you learn a thing or two from each other. he smiles for the both of you, whatever you do is enough for him and whatever he does is too much for you. maybe just maybe you could be friends, or perhaps something more?

warnings: kissing, jealousy, flirty!sunoo, family issues, argument, reader is kinda mean, crying,

note: i finally got to write for my biggest crush—sunoo!(I'M SO IN LOVE WITH HIM) this has a slight hallmark movie vibe because i lovee them. merry christmas!

word count: 10.1k

i love reading your comments and reblogs, so please do so if you liked reading this<3

the plan had been perfect.

switzerland in winter, cozy chalets, the sparkle of snowflakes in the alps, and hot chocolate that was more melted dessert than drink. your friends had already started posting pictures: selfies by frosted windows, snow-covered towns that looked ripped out of postcards, and captions so carefree they stung.

but no. you weren’t in switzerland. you were here, in the cramped kitchen of your mom’s café, drowning in holiday specials and watching other people live out the joy you were supposed to be having.

“do you have to look so miserable?” your mom asked that morning as you trudged downstairs. “you’ll scare away the customers.”

“it’s not my fault i’m stuck here,” you muttered, your words muffled by the scarf you were wrapping around your neck.

your mom sighed but didn’t argue. she didn’t have to. the weight of responsibility—the oldest sibling’s eternal curse—hung heavily between you. when your mom had insisted you stay behind to help with the café’s holiday rush, the conversation hadn’t exactly been open for debate.

“it’s your responsibility,” your mom had said, her voice as unwavering as ever. “you’re the oldest. you understand that, don’t you?”

she’d said it like it was obvious, like it didn’t matter that you’d saved for months or that this was your last winter break before finishing university. your siblings had been conveniently absolved of all obligations, leaving you to pick up the slack.

and now here you were, staring out the café window at holiday shoppers bustling about their merry little lives.

it wasn’t just the lost trip that soured your mood. normally, you liked the holiday season—the warm lights, the scent of cinnamon in the air, the general buzz of joy. but this year, it felt impossible to muster up even a hint of cheer. maybe it was the bitterness of being left behind. or maybe it was the feeling that everyone else got to celebrate while you were stuck doing the thankless work.

whatever it was, you wanted no part of it. no twinkling lights, no jingly music, no forced smiles. if it were up to you, you’d fast-forward straight to january.

suddenly, the bell above the door jingled, snapping you out of your brooding. you straightened up, putting on your polite customer-service face as you prepared to take their order. but the sight that greeted you stopped you cold.

the man standing in the doorway looked like he’d lost a fight with a christmas clearance bin—and lost spectacularly. his coat was a patchwork of red and green, his scarf glittering with snowflake designs, and atop his head sat a ridiculous pom-pom hat that looked like it came straight from santa’s workshop, bouncing with every step.

you squinted at him, wondering how anyone could walk around looking like a walking holiday advertisement and not feel the slightest bit self-conscious. he practically radiated cheer, and you were already bracing yourself for the headache that would inevitably follow when you took his order. 

his curious eyes stopped their surveillance once they stopped at you. he lit up and waved at you enthusiastically(his mittens made a soft fwip-fwip sound against the air as he did that, making him look even more adorable ridiculous in your opinion).

“sunoo!” your mom’s delighted voice rang out, cutting through your internal judgment. she emerged from the back, her face lighting up as if he were her long lost son. “you’re early! perfect timing.”

“always early for christmas,” he replied, his voice as bright as his outfit.

you raised an eyebrow, trying to piece together what was happening as your mom motioned for him to come closer.

“sunoo’s going to be helping us out during the holiday rush,” she explained, turning to you with an expectant smile. “isn’t that wonderful?”

wonderful was not the word you would have chosen.

before you could object, sunoo turned his attention to you, his smile widening like he’d just found the best present under the tree.

“hi!” he said, thrusting out a hand. “i’m sunoo. it’s so great to meet you! your mom’s told me all about you.”

“uh.. hi,” you managed, shaking his hand hesitantly.

“she also said you’re going to be showing me the ropes!” he added, his enthusiasm not faltering for even a second.

your mom patted his shoulder approvingly before disappearing back into the kitchen, leaving you alone with who could only be described as christmas incarnate himself.

“where should we start?” sunoo asked, looking around the café with sparkling eyes. “drinks? decorations? oh, wait—do i get an apron?”

you blinked at him, trying to process how someone could have this much energy so early in the day. “uh, yeah. apron’s over there,” you muttered, pointing toward the storage cabinet.

as he darted off to grab one, you couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that this holiday season was about to get a lot more...complicated.

the next few days were nothing short of exhausting and it wasn’t because of the café rush.

it was him.

day one with sunoo was a test of patience.

he wasn’t just enthusiastic—he was relentless. he greeted every customer like an old friend, remembered their names and favorite drinks, and even started a suggestion box for “holiday improvements,” which was quickly overflowing with ideas.

on his second day, came the first incident. while you were preparing an espresso, sunoo decided to take matters into his own hands and “spread holiday cheer.” which apparently meant hanging garlands around the counter while you worked.

"could you not?" you finally snapped as a strand of tinsel landed on your shoulder.

"it’s festive!" he countered, grinning as he perched a tiny santa hat on the espresso machine. "doesn’t it make you feel jollier?"

you glared at him. "i’m plenty jolly."

he blinked innocently. "are you sure? because you’ve been frowning for…well, since i got here."

but it wasn’t just the decorations. sunoo had an uncanny ability to be everywhere at once. whether it was bringing you hot cocoa during your break (“it has marshmallows!”) or attempting to teach you his rendition of “jingle bells” while you prepped the next batch of cookies, he was always there.

“smile more!” he said one afternoon as you handed a cappuccino to a customer.

“i am smiling,” you replied through gritted teeth.

“that’s not a smile. that’s...a grimace,” he teased, leaning in with mock seriousness. “here, watch me.”

he turned to the next customer, flashing a grin so radiant it could have melted an iceberg. “welcome! isn’t it just a great day to treat yourself?”

the customer chuckled, clearly charmed. you, on the other hand, wanted to crawl under the counter and hide.

well yes, you begrudgingly had to admit that his presence had improved the café’s working tremendously. the customers loved him. he remembered names, guessed favorite drinks, and made people laugh. tips flowed into the jar like magic.  but he was trying to ruin your plan of not appreciating the holiday season! and you were not going to let that happen.

but, by the end of the week, something shifted.

slowly—very slowly—you had started to tolerate him.

it wasn’t that he stopped being annoying. if anything, his energy seemed to double with each passing day. but somewhere between his absurd carol remixes and the way he handed out extra cookies to kids who looked like they’d been dragged to the café against their will, you found yourself less irritated.

not impressed. definitely not charmed(lies!). just...less annoyed.

but one question lingered at the back of your mind: why? why was he so happy? what made him light up like a human christmas tree every day?

you weren’t sure you wanted to know the answer. but as you caught him grinning at a regular customer who’d just handed him a homemade ornament, you couldn’t help but wonder.

the café was quiet as you flipped the sign to "closed" and started tidying up for the night. it had been a long day, and you couldn’t wait to finally go home.

just as you locked the register and reached for your coat, the bell above the door jingled. you turned, irritation already bubbling up.

“we’re closed,” you started, but your words faltered when you recognized the man standing there.

“y/n,” your ex-boyfriend said, his smirk as familiar as it was grating. he stepped inside, dressed in a tailored coat that screamed money and arrogance. god, you can’t believe you fell for someone like him as a teenager.

beside him stood a woman teetering on heels that seemed entirely impractical for the icy streets outside. her outfit was bold, to say the least, a mishmash of sequins and faux fur that seemed more suited for a nightclub than a quiet evening in a café.

“oh my gosh,” the girlfriend squealed, twirling a strand of platinum-blonde hair. “babe, is this the little place you were talking about? it’s, like, so...cute!”

your ex casually leaned against the counter you had just wiped, trying to look cool. “i told her about this café. thought we’d stop by, see if you were still here.”

still here? the condescension in his tone made your jaw clench.

“it’s nice to see you’re keeping busy,” he added, his eyes sweeping over you like he was assessing your worth.

you plastered on a polite smile, one you reserved for particularly rude customers. “we’re closed, actually. maybe come back tomorrow.”

“aw, don’t be like that,” he said smoothly, ignoring your words entirely. “i was just telling tiffany here about how we used to hang out all the time. she couldn’t believe it. right, tiff?”

tiffany nodded enthusiastically, chewing gum as she looked around the café. “totally. i mean, you’re, like, so brave for working here. i could never do customer service—ugh, people are just the worst, you know?”

you stared at her, unsure if she was trying to insult you or if she genuinely had no self-awareness.

“i’ve been doing amazing, in case you were wondering. just opened my own tech startup. big investors, huge growth potential. you know how it is—some of us were always meant to do big things.”

he gave you a pointed look, and you felt your jaw tighten.

“and of course, i’ve got tiffany now.” he draped an arm over his girlfriend’s shoulders, and she giggled, resting her manicured hand on his chest.

“uh-huh,” you said, folding your arms. “well, congrats. i need to finish closing, so if you don’t mind—”

“oh, don’t rush us,” tiffany said with a pout. “we’re just, like, so fascinated by this little place. did you decorate it yourself? it’s so quaint!”

before you could respond, the door opened again, and in walked sunoo, bundled up in his bright scarf, carrying a bag of cookies.

“there you are!” he said cheerfully, making a beeline for you. he barely glanced at your ex before sliding an arm around your shoulders, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “sorry i’m late, babe. got caught up picking these up for you.”

your ex straightened, his brows knitting together. “babe?”

sunoo turned to him, his smile wide. “oh, sorry, i didn’t realize you were talking to my girlfriend.”

the word “girlfriend” sent a jolt through you, but sunoo didn’t give you time to react. he extended a hand towards your ex. “i’m sunoo. and you are?”

“her ex-boyfriend,” he replied stiffly, clearly caught off guard.

“oh!” sunoo said, feigning surprise. “well, nice to meet you. guess you’re the one who didn’t see how amazing she is, huh?”

you blinked, your cheeks warming as sunoo turned to tiffany, giving her a polite nod before focusing back on your ex.

“you know, y/n’s been working so hard lately,” sunoo continued, his voice light but deliberate. “between helping out here and pursuing her corporate law degree, she’s just incredible. i mean, it’s not every day you meet someone with brains, ambition, and kindness all rolled into one.”

your ex’s confident smirk faltered, and tiffany’s chewing slowed as she looked at you with newfound confusion.

“she’s studying law?” tiffany asked, wide-eyed.

sunoo nodded, his smile unwavering. “yep. top of her class, too. honestly, i don’t know how she does it. i feel lucky just to be a part of her life.”

your ex opened his mouth, likely to retaliate, but sunoo wasn’t done.

“and she’s so good with people,” sunoo added, looking at you with a softness that made your heart skip a beat. “customers just adore her. i see it every day—her kindness and how much she cares about others. it’s inspiring, really.”

your ex looked like he’d swallowed a lemon, his girlfriend now staring at him with something akin to disappointment.

“and now,” sunoo said, turning back to you, “i think it’s time we head home, don’t you, sweetheart?”

before you could process what was happening, sunoo leaned in and kissed you. it wasn’t a quick peck, nor was it overly dramatic. it was soft, lingering just enough to leave your heart racing and your mind spinning.

when he pulled back, he smiled at you, completely unfazed. “let’s go.”

you nodded, your voice seemingly lost, and allowed him to guide you toward the back.

as soon as you were out of earshot, you whispered, “what the hell was that?”

“that,” he said, grinning, “was me helping you. you’re welcome.”

you wanted to argue, to scold him for his audacity, but instead, all you could do was feel the butterflies in your stomach.

sunoo, ever the cheerful enigma, simply winked at you before heading to the kitchen, leaving you wondering why you couldn’t stop smiling.

the next day at the café began like any other, the morning rush fading into a calm lull as the afternoon light filtered through the frosted windows. you stood behind the counter, idly wiping it down, the hum of soft café music mixing with the faint clinking of dishes being cleaned.

across from you, sunoo was in his usual element, drying a tray of mugs with an ease that felt almost theatrical. he hummed a festive tune under his breath, the kind of annoyingly catchy holiday song you couldn’t escape this time of year. unlike most people, though, he wasn’t out of tune—his voice was smooth, each note light and cheerful.

despite yourself, your eyes drifted toward him. it was hard not to watch the way he worked, his every movement quick yet deliberate. but what caught you the most wasn’t his efficiency—it was his smile.

sunoo had this way of smiling that was entirely his own. it wasn’t just polite or perfunctory; it was warm, genuine, and impossibly bright. whether it was an elderly regular ordering tea or the grumpiest customer throwing a tantrum over a latte, he treated everyone with the same sunny energy, as if he’d been waiting all day just to see them.

you barely noticed your cloth stalling on the counter as your gaze lingered on him. his lips curved up, eyes crinkling at the corners, his entire face lighting up in a way that could rival the café’s twinkling christmas lights.

“earth to y/n!”

his voice jolted you from your thoughts, and your head snapped up to see him standing there, a mug still in one hand, the other waving dramatically in front of your face.

“you’re staring,” he said with a knowing grin, leaning casually against the counter. his apron hung slightly askew, a splash of frothy milk smudged near the edge, but he didn’t seem to care.

“i was not staring,” you shot back, too quickly for your own good. the heat rushing to your cheeks betrayed you, though, as you fumbled to sound indifferent. “i was zoning out.”

“sure you were,” he teased, his grin widening into something playful, yet somehow unbearably charming. “let me guess—you were thinking about me, huh?”

before you could even process a retort, sunoo moved. he stepped closer, his easy grin never wavering. instinctively, you leaned back, only for your spine to hit the counter behind you. the realization that you were cornered sent your heart into overdrive.

“w-what are you doing?” you stammered, your eyes darting up to meet his.

he was close now, too close. his arm came up, his hand braced against the counter next to your head, the air around you enveloping you in his mouthwatering scent of vanilla and coconut. his other hand still held the mug, but that didn’t stop your thoughts from spiraling. the way he leaned over you, his face mere inches from yours—it made your breath hitch. for one wild, utterly ridiculous moment, you thought he was about to kiss you(again?).

but then, with a smooth, almost nonchalant motion, he reached past you and grabbed a washcloth from the counter behind your shoulder.

“got it!” he announced cheerfully, pulling back and holding up the cloth like it was a prize.

you blinked, stunned into silence as your brain scrambled to catch up with reality.

sunoo tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “what? did you think i was gonna—” he paused, letting the suggestion hang in the air, a devilish smirk tugging at his lips.

“no!” you snapped, your voice cracking as you shoved past him to put space between you. “as if!”

his laugh was light, melodic, and thoroughly maddening as he turned back to the mugs, completely unbothered.

you busied yourself with refilling the napkin dispensers, determined to ignore the way your heart was still racing. yet as much as you wanted to brush the whole thing off, you couldn’t help the small, traitorous smile tugging at your lips. and you hated that somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered if sunoo had caught it.

later that evening, you found yourself at the door, keys in hand, ready to lock up. the café was quiet, the streets outside eerily calm. the cold had settled in deeper now, a biting wind nipping at your fingers even through your gloves.

as you pulled the door shut and turned the key in the lock, a figure caught your eye. sunoo was leaning casually against the lamppost just outside, his breath visible in small puffs of condensation.

“what are you still doing here?” you asked, wrapping your arms around yourself to stave off the chill.

he straightened, brushing some snow off his coat. “wanted to make sure you got home safe,” he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

you froze for a moment, caught completely off guard. “you didn’t have to do that,” you said, though your voice was softer than usual, your usual bite missing.

“i know,” he replied with a shrug, his tone light, almost nonchalant. “but i wanted to.”

the words hung in the air between you, heavier than they should have been. his sincerity was disarming, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. the light from the streetlamp cast a faint golden glow on his face, catching the warmth in his eyes and the faint pink dusting his cheeks from the cold.

your chest tightened, the realization of how kind he was settling in. it wasn’t a grand gesture, but it felt significant. genuine.

you wondered if he could hear the pounding of your heart in the quiet night, loud and insistent as it was.

“thanks,” you mumbled after a beat, unable to meet his gaze for too long.

he smiled at you, soft and easy. “anytime.”

as you both started walking toward your respective homes, you couldn’t help but glance at him out of the corner of your eye. there was something about sunoo that you couldn’t quite put your finger on—a warmth that you hadn’t noticed before but suddenly seemed impossible to ignore.

the nightly walks home had become a routine you hadn’t quite agreed to but couldn’t seem to stop either. sunoo, had decided somewhere along the line that you needed a chaperone to make it home safely through the wintry streets. you’d grumbled about it at first, muttering under your breath about his unnecessary chivalry, but over time, you’d grown to expect the sight of him waiting outside the café after closing.

of course, you hadn’t told him that. no, you preferred to keep up your facade of mild annoyance, pretending not to notice how his presence made the cold nights feel a little less lonely.

sunoo, naturally, was undeterred by your grumpiness. if anything, it seemed to fuel his determination to get you into the holiday spirit. one evening, as he walked beside you, humming yet another cheerful christmas tune, he turned to you with a sudden burst of excitement.

“y/n, i just had the best idea!”

you glanced at him warily, already regretting whatever was about to come out of his mouth. “do i even want to know?”

“yes, you do!” he insisted, his grin as bright as the fairy lights strung across the street. “i’m going to teach you my famous christmas cookie recipe!”

you stopped in your tracks, giving him an incredulous look. “your famous christmas cookie recipe? who exactly considers it famous?”

“everyone who’s ever tasted them,” he replied, puffing out his chest dramatically. “they’re a holiday masterpiece.”

you couldn’t stop the amused huff that escaped you, though you quickly masked it with a roll of your eyes. “and why, exactly, do i need to learn this ‘masterpiece’ recipe?”

“because,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “you need some christmas cheer in your life, and nothing says cheer like baking cookies with me.”

you groaned, already feeling your resolve weakening under his hopeful gaze. “fine,” you muttered, trying to sound begrudging. “but only because i’m curious if they’re actually as good as you claim.”

his cheer was instantaneous. “you won’t regret it!”

the next day, sunoo dragged you to the grocery store and. you trailed behind him, half-heartedly protesting whenever he added something to the cart that wasn’t on the list.

“you’re buying way too much butter,” you pointed out as he tossed another block into the cart.

“you can never have too much butter when it comes to cookies,” he said with a sage nod.

he practically bounced beside you, a walking ball of excitement, clutching a carefully curated shopping list for his "famous" christmas cookies.

“y/n, we need to decide on the chocolate chips,” he said, holding up two bags like they were precious artifacts. “semi-sweet or dark? this is critical.”

you shrugged nonchalantly, feigning disinterest. “it’s your recipe, gordon ramsay. pick whatever.”

he pouted dramatically, clutching his chest. “gordon ramsay? that’s a little harsh. i’m more of a... what’s the name of that really cheerful baker on tv? you know, the one who smiles a lot?”

“sounds like your spirit animal,” you muttered under your breath, though a faint smirk tugged at your lips.

while he deliberated between chocolate options with the intensity of someone defusing a bomb, you wandered off to grab some sugar. as you made your way back toward the cart, a voice called your name.

“y/n? is that really you?”

you turned to find yourself face-to-face with an old high school friend. their warm smile was familiar, even if their fashion choices now had taken a complete 180.

“oh my god, it’s been forever!” they said, pulling you into a quick hug. “how have you been?”

you exchanged pleasantries, updating each other on work and uni life. it was nice, catching up after so long, until their eyes flicked past you.

“wait, who’s that?” they asked, nodding toward sunoo, who was now examining a bottle of vanilla extract like it held the secrets of the universe.

“oh, him?” you said casually, glancing over your shoulder. “that’s just sunoo.”

they raised an eyebrow, their smirk teasing. “just sunoo? he looks like he’s your boyfriend or something.”

“what? no, no,” you said quickly, a little too loudly. “sunoo’s not my boyfriend. god, no. he’s just my coworker. we work at my mom’s café. that’s all.”

your friend gave you a knowing look, the kind that made your cheeks heat. “coworker, huh? he’s got major boyfriend energy. seems sweet.”

“sweet?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “he’s more like a hyperactive puppy. always smiling, always humming, always doing something. it’s exhausting.”

your friend chuckled, clearly enjoying your exasperation.

“and don’t even get me started on his christmas obsession,” you continued, rolling your eyes for effect. “he’s like a walking hallmark movie. i swear, if he could marry a christmas tree, he’d probably do it and throw a wedding with carolers.”

your friend burst out laughing, egging you on. “does he sing christmas songs all the time too?”

“constantly,” you replied with mock suffering. “if i hear ‘jingle bells’ one more time, i’m going to lose it. it’s like he’s got a jukebox in his head that’s stuck on holiday mode.”

the two of you laughed, exchanging more exaggerated and judgmental quips about sunoo’s overly cheerful demeanor. but then, as your laughter faded, you caught sight of something—or rather, someone—out of the corner of your eye.

sunoo was standing there, a bag of flour in one arm and a bottle of vanilla extract in the other. his bright smile, the one you’d always teased him for, was gone. in its place was an expression you’d never seen on him before—hurt, raw and unguarded.

“sunoo,” you started, your voice weak and unsure.

he blinked, his eyes darting between you and your friend, as though piecing together everything he’d just overheard. then, without a word, he turned on his heel and walked away, his steps brisk and unsteady.

“wait, sunoo—” you took a step toward him, but he didn’t stop, his figure disappearing around the corner.

your friend shifted awkwardly beside you. “uh... i think i’ll let you handle that. good luck.” they offered an apologetic smile before retreating, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.

the guilt hit you like a freight train. you replayed every word you’d said, each one now twisting like a knife. you hadn’t meant to be cruel, not really, but hearing it all in retrospect made you wince.

you stood there in the middle of the aisle, the festive chaos of the store blurring around you, and all you could think about was the devastated look on sunoo’s face. for someone who always wore his heart on his sleeve, you’d just managed to break it without even trying.

and now, you had no idea how to fix it.

the café felt colder than usual, and it had nothing to do with the weather. sunoo, the walking ray of sunshine who once filled every corner with warmth and holiday cheer, had dimmed entirely. it started the day after the grocery store incident. he no longer greeted you with his annoyingly bright smile or playfully nudged you when you were grumbling about the customers. instead, he was polite—frigidly so.

“good morning,” you said tentatively as you walked in for your shift.

“morning,” he replied without looking up from the espresso machine, his tone flat.

no teasing. no humming. not even a sarcastic remark about you being late again. just a curt acknowledgment, followed by silence.

you couldn’t deny it—it stung. you thought back to the way he used to coax reluctant smiles from customers, how he would hum festive tunes so loudly you’d complain, and how his energy made the café feel like a holiday movie set. now, he did his job mechanically, avoiding unnecessary conversation with you and barely engaging with anyone else.

the decorations he had painstakingly hung felt like they belonged to a different world. they no longer carried the magic they once did.

at first, you told yourself this was what you wanted—a quiet, sunoo-free workspace where you could brood in peace. but it wasn’t peace you felt. it was guilt. crushing, suffocating guilt.

even though sunoo seemed hellbent on giving you the cold shoulder, he still made sure you reached home safely. your evening walks were not the same anymore, with him trailing a few metres behind you instead of him usually sticking right to your side. you couldn’t help but feel even worse. even after you had been inconsiderate about his feelings, he still cared.

one day, during a rare lull, you approached him, the desire to fix things clawing at your chest. you were generally awkward with apologies but you had to try your best. he was wiping down the counter with that same forced nonchalance, eyes focused on the towel, not sparing you even a glance.

“sunoo,” you started, your voice small, breaking the silence between you. “i… i wanted to say sorry about what happened. i didn’t mean—”

“it’s fine,” he interrupted, finally looking up with an expression that was almost unreadable. “don’t worry about it.”

but you could tell it wasn’t fine. it wasn’t fine at all. the tension in his jaw, the lack of the usual warmth in his eyes—it was all proof that you had hurt him more than you realised.

that afternoon, a customer—a girl around your age—came in and ordered a latte. she was attractive, dressed in trendy winter clothes, her hair a perfect cascade of curls despite the weather. you barely registered her order, too preoccupied with the way sunoo’s demeanor had shifted as soon as she walked up. he leaned over the counter with a smile that was just a touch more dazzling than usual, his eyes bright with that cheerful, carefree light you hadn’t seen in days.

“oh, you’re so good at making latte art!” she said with a little laugh, eyes wide as she watched him.

sunoo chuckled, a sound that came so easily, so naturally, it made something sour twist in your stomach. “thanks. i’ve had a lot of practice. what’s your favorite design?”

“oh, anything cute! maybe a heart?”

you clenched your jaw. the way he laughed, the way he looked at her, it was like the last few days had never happened. he was back to being the sunoo who had brightened every corner of the café, the same sunoo you’d ignored and pushed away. a storm of irritation and something deeper bubbled inside you.

you couldn’t help yourself. marching over, you interrupted their conversation, “sunoo, the tables need wiping. i’ll finish this order,” you said, your voice sharper than intended.

he looked at you, his smile fading as quickly as it had come. for a moment, you thought he might argue, but instead, he stepped back and handed you the steaming cup. “sure,” he said quietly, walking away without another word.

the customer looked at you, slightly startled, but you avoided her gaze, focusing on finishing the latte art. your hand trembled slightly as you poured the milk, frustrated at yourself for the way your emotions had spiraled out of control.

this wasn’t like you. you weren’t the type to get jealous, especially not over someone like sunoo, who you’d spent weeks convincing yourself was nothing more than a coworker.

the silence that followed felt deafening, and the rest of the shift passed in a haze. every time you looked at him, he looked away. every time you spoke to him, he responded with clipped, polite words, his voice void of warmth. he was now a shadow of the sunoo you had known, and it was your fault.

and the worst part? you missed it. you missed him.

every day, the weight of your guilt grew heavier, and with it, the realization that you hadn’t just been cruel—you’d hurt someone who had only ever tried to brighten your world.

you wanted to fix things, but you didn’t know how. every attempt to reach out was met with silence, and every smile he gave someone else felt like another nail in the coffin of what you had ruined.

the festive tunes in the café continued to play, but now, they felt hollow, much like the ache in your chest.

that night, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the ache of regret clawing at your chest. the guilt was like an icy chain around your ribs, squeezing tighter with every passing minute. you could still picture the smile he had given the girl, so carefree, so genuine, and the way he had walked away from you, a hint of defeat in his posture.

the next day, he was back to avoiding you, treating you like a stranger he’d once known. you watched, helpless, as he poured that same energy into talking to customers, chatting with people as if he hadn’t lost himself in the process. it hurt more than you thought it could.

the coldness extended past the café. sunoo’s laughter seemed to be reserved for everyone but you, and you watched as the cheerful light he carried dimmed even further. it made you wonder if you had lost something you didn’t even know you wanted.

the day had been relentless. the café buzzed from the early hours with orders flying in and customers bustling through, each interaction adding another layer to your growing frustration. by mid-afternoon, you were running on fumes, barely holding it together as the weight of responsibility pressed down on you.

it wasn’t just today. it had been like this for weeks. ever since your mom insisted you stay back during winter break to help with the café, it felt like you’d been drowning in expectations. and somehow, the family seemed perfectly content to let you struggle.

you caught sight of your younger siblings in the corner booth, lounging with their phones in hand, sharing quiet laughs. the image stung. while you juggled orders, cleaned counters, and played the perfect hostess, they enjoyed carefree moments, untouched by the demands that seemed to fall squarely on your shoulders.

by the time you escaped to the back room, your patience was hanging by a thread. you slammed a tray of used mugs onto the counter harder than you meant to, and the sharp clang echoed in the small space.

“do you have to make such a racket?” your mom’s voice came from behind you. she stepped into the room, her hands busy with a clipboard, completely unfazed by your obvious distress.

your control snapped. “maybe if someone else around here actually helped me, i wouldn’t have to,” you retorted, spinning around to face her.

she paused, her eyes narrowing. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means i’m exhausted, mom,” you shot back, the words tumbling out in a rush. “i’m doing everything—running the counter, cleaning up, dealing with customers—and for what? so everyone else can just sit back and relax?”

“don’t be dramatic,” she said, her tone clipped. “i’ve been working just as much as you.”

you let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “are you serious right now? i haven’t seen you take a single order all day. and don’t even get me started on them,” you gestured toward the café, where your siblings were still parked, oblivious to the world around them. “they get to sit around doing nothing while i’m running myself into the ground.”

“they’re younger,” your mom said flatly. “you’re the oldest. you should know better by now.”

the words cut deep, sharper than you expected. “so what? that means i don’t get to have a life? i don’t get to enjoy a break like everyone else?” your voice wavered, anger and hurt intertwining. “you expect me to just give and give, and no one cares about what i need.”

“stop being so ungrateful and selfish all the time,” she snapped, her eyes hardening. “this is your family. you do what’s necessary.”

her words hit like a physical blow, and you staggered back a step, the air knocked out of you. selfish? after everything you’d done? 

she didn’t wait for a response, brushing past you and leaving the room without a backward glance.

the silence that followed was suffocating. you stood frozen, your chest heaving as the tears burned behind your eyes. you tried to fight them, but the weight of her words, of everything, was too much.

your legs gave out, and you sank to the cold floor, pulling your knees to your chest as the first sob broke free. it came in waves, uncontrollable and raw, until you buried your face in your arms, muffling the sound.

you weren’t sure how long you stayed like that. time seemed to blur, your thoughts spiraling in the same vicious cycle of frustration and hurt. the ache in your chest felt unbearable, like a storm raging inside with no signs of clearing.

then, faintly, you heard footsteps. they stopped near you, hesitating, before a familiar voice called softly, “y/n?”

you didn’t look up. you couldn’t. but then you felt it—a warm, steady hand on your shoulder, grounding you in a way you didn’t realize you needed.

when you finally lifted your head, your tear-filled eyes met sunoo’s. his usual brightness was dimmed, replaced with an expression so soft and concerned that it made your chest tighten all over again.

he didn’t say anything at first, just crouched down beside you. then, without a word, he pulled you into his arms. the action was gentle, almost hesitant, but as soon as you felt the warmth of his embrace, you broke all over again.

your fingers clutched at the fabric of his shirt, desperate for something solid as the tears came harder. “i’m so tired,” you whispered against his chest, your voice cracking.

“i know,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “i know.”

his hand moved to your back, rubbing slow circles that seemed to ease the ache just a little. he smelled his signature scent of vanilla and coconut, a scent so comforting it made you lean into him further, seeking out the solace he offered.

sunoo didn’t let go. not when your tears soaked into his shirt, not when your breath hitched as you tried to form words between sobs. he stayed there, holding you, his warmth anchoring you in a way you hadn’t realized you craved.

eventually, the tears slowed, leaving you shuddering against him. he didn’t rush you or ask questions, just kept his hand moving in those soothing circles on your back, his presence steady and unwavering. it was only when your breathing evened out that he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

“do you want to talk about it?”

for a moment, you hesitated. but then, the weight of everything—the years of bottled-up frustration, resentment, and heartache—came spilling out.

“it’s just… it’s so much,” you began, your voice hoarse from crying. “being the oldest, it’s like… it’s like my life stopped being mine the moment dad left.”

sunoo’s hand stilled for a second, then resumed its comforting rhythm, encouraging you to continue.

you sniffled, swiping at your damp cheeks. “he just—he ran off with some rich woman when i was sixteen, like we didn’t matter to him at all. mom was devastated, and suddenly, it felt like i had to grow up overnight. taking care of my siblings, helping with the café, picking up the pieces he left behind…” your voice cracked, and you bit your lip, trying to hold it together.

“and now it’s like nothing’s changed,” you went on, your words tumbling out faster. “mom still leans on me for everything. the café, the house, the family—it’s always me. i can’t even remember the last time i did something just for myself.”

sunoo didn’t interrupt, didn’t try to fill the silence with empty reassurances. he just listened, his gaze fixed on you with such unwavering focus that it made your chest ache in a different way.

“and today—today was just the last straw,” you admitted, wiping at your nose with the back of your hand. “i feel like i’m suffocating, sunoo. like no matter how much i give, it’s never enough. and it’s so… so lonely.”

you looked away, ashamed of your outburst, but his arms tightened around you. “you’re not alone,” he said softly, his voice steady. “not anymore.”

that simple promise unraveled something inside you, and before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “and i’m sorry. for everything. for being so mean to you, for judging you when i didn’t even know you, for acting like a total brat.”

sunoo blinked, his expression softening even further, but you didn’t let him speak yet. “i know i’ve been awful,” you continued, your words spilling over each other in a frantic rush. “and you’ve been nothing but kind, and here i am, all snotty and messy and—”

“y/n,” he interrupted gently, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“and i probably look terrible right now,” you rambled on, ignoring his soft chuckle. “like, who wants to deal with this?” you gestured vaguely to your tear-streaked face and disheveled appearance.

“y/n,” he said again, a little firmer this time, his hand brushing against your cheek.

you froze, finally meeting his eyes. they were impossibly warm, filled with something you couldn’t quite name but that made your breath catch all the same.

“you’re perfect,” he said simply, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear.

and then, before you could process his words, he leaned in and kissed you.

it was soft at first, hesitant, like he was giving you a chance to pull away. but when you didn’t—when you found yourself leaning into him instead—it deepened, his lips moving against yours with a warmth that chased away every lingering shadow of doubt and hurt.

you melted into him, your hands clutching the front of his shirt as if he were the only solid thing in a world that had felt so unsteady. the kiss was everything you didn’t know you needed—comforting, electrifying, and completely disarming all at once.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours, his breath mingling with your own in the quiet of the room.

“i’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he admitted, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

you stared at him, still dazed, your fingers brushing your lips as if trying to hold onto the feeling. “you… you kissed me,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“i did,” he said, his smile growing. “and if i had known it would shut you up, i might’ve done it sooner.”

a laugh bubbled up in your chest despite yourself, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the heaviness inside you lifted.

“i don’t think i deserve you, sunoo,” you said softly, your gaze dropping to the floor.

he tilted your chin up gently, his expression earnest. “then it’s a good thing i get to decide that, isn’t it?”

and just like that, with sunoo’s arms still wrapped around you and the lingering warmth of his kiss, it felt like everything had finally fallen into place.

the next morning, you found yourself standing outside the café, shivering in the early chill. snow blanketed the ground, sparkling under the soft glow of the streetlights. the café wasn’t open yet, and you were earlier than usual, clutching a small box in your hands. the carefully wrapped gift felt heavier than it should, the weight of nerves pressing down on you.

inside the box was a collection of little things that reminded you of sunoo: a cheerful snowman mug, a candle that smelled like warm sugar cookies, and a pair of bright green fuzzy mittens. they weren’t much, but they were chosen with care—a way to apologise properly, to show him you understood now just how much he meant to you.

the quiet street stretched around you, peaceful but lonely. you rocked back and forth on your heels, trying to shake off the morning cold and the knot of anxiety twisting in your stomach. what if he didn’t accept the gift? what if he was still upset?

before you could spiral further, you heard footsteps crunching in the snow. turning, you saw him walking toward you, his breath visible in the frosty air. he wasn’t wearing his usual bright smile, but the sight of him was enough to make your chest ache.

“y/n?” he called out, stopping a few steps away. “what are you doing here so early?”

“i, uh…” you hesitated, holding the box tighter. “i wanted to see you.”

his eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. “really?”

wordlessly, you held the gift out to him, your breath hitching as he stared at it. slowly, he reached out and took it, his fingers brushing yours.

“what’s this?” he asked, his tone soft.

“an apology,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended. “for everything. for being mean to you, for not appreciating you sooner, for—just open it.”

sunoo glanced at you, then down at the box. he tugged the ribbon loose and carefully peeled back the paper, his movements deliberate. when he saw the contents, his expression shifted, his eyes widening as a genuine smile began to spread across his face.

“you got me mittens?” he exclaimed, holding them up like they were a treasure. “and this mug—it’s so cute! and a candle?” he brought it to his nose and sniffed, his grin widening even more. “it smells amazing!”

the brightness in his reaction melted the last of your nerves, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“i thought they’d suit you,” you said quietly, feeling a little silly now but also oddly proud.

“suit me?” he repeated, his tone playful. “y/n, this is the most thoughtful gift anyone’s given me in a long time.”

before you could react, he closed the distance between you in one swift motion.

“wait—sunoo!”

but he didn’t wait. he scooped you up effortlessly, spinning you around in the snow. the world blurred for a moment, the sound of your surprised laugh ringing out as he twirled you like you weighed nothing at all.

“put me down!” you cried, though your laughter betrayed any real protest.

“not until you promise you’ll stop being so hard on yourself,” he said, his voice full of warmth and mischief.

“okay, okay! i promise!”

he set you down at last, but your balance wavered, and the two of you tumbled into the snow together, a heap of giggles and cold breaths.

“you’re impossible,” you muttered, brushing snow off your coat.

“impossible to stay mad at, right?” he teased, propping himself up on one elbow beside you. his grin was as dazzling as ever, and it was contagious.

you rolled your eyes, but your heart felt lighter than it had in days. “yeah, yeah. don’t let it go to your head, sunoo.”

“too late,” he quipped, tossing a handful of snow at you.

what followed was an impromptu snowball fight that left both of you breathless, your cheeks pink from the cold and the laughter. by the time the café was ready to open, you’d built a lopsided snowman and shared stories over hot cocoa.

as you sat across from him, watching the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, you realized something else had thawed—your carefully guarded heart. sunoo had done more than bring holiday cheer into your life; he’d brought a warmth you hadn’t known you were missing.

over the next few days, things between you and sunoo took on a rhythm you hadn’t expected. there was no big moment when it all changed, no grand confessions. it just sort of happened. in the middle of the busy café, amidst the noise of espresso machines and the chatter of customers, the two of you found your own little world, filled with unspoken understanding and a quiet kind of comfort.

despite your shy nature, sunoo was anything but reserved. he was touchy, cuddly, and so unapologetically confident in his affection that it left you flustered at least twice an hour.

one morning, you were at the counter, meticulously preparing an intricate coffee order for a regular. concentrating on the froth, you didn’t even hear him approach.

suddenly, his arms slipped around your waist, pulling you into his chest. the warmth of his body against your back startled you, and you nearly dropped the milk frother.

“good morning to you, too,” he murmured softly near your ear, his voice low and teasing.

“sunoo,” you hissed, your cheeks burning as you glanced around the café. thankfully, it was mostly empty, save for the regular who seemed too engrossed in their phone to notice. “what are you doing?”

“giving my girlfriend some love,” he said matter-of-factly, resting his chin on your shoulder. his hold on you was secure but gentle, and you couldn’t ignore how solid he felt.

your brain scrambled as you became hyper-aware of every point of contact—the way his hands fit around your waist, the way his sweater couldn’t completely hide the firmness of his chest and arms.

you tried to maintain your composure, focusing on pouring the steamed milk into the cup. “you’re distracting me,” you mumbled, your voice shakier than you’d intended.

“oh?” his tone was pure mischief now, and you could practically hear the grin on his face. “didn’t know i had that kind of effect on you, y/n.”

“stop,” you groaned, half-horrified and half-flustered, trying to wriggle free from his hold.

but he just tightened his arms slightly, chuckling. “not a chance. you’re cute when you’re flustered.”

your heart pounded in your chest as you finished the order, sunoo still clinging to you like a human koala. when you finally handed the coffee to the customer, you turned to him with an exasperated glare.

“happy now?” you said, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably.

“very,” he replied, his bright smile disarming you completely.

moments like these became a regular occurrence. sunoo had no concept of personal space, especially when it came to you, and he seemed to revel in how easily he could fluster you. whether it was sneaking up behind you to steal a kiss on your cheek while you were stocking shelves, lacing your fingers together under the table during your lunch break, or leaning in close just to whisper something playful and teasing—he was unabashedly, wholeheartedly himself.

at first, you didn’t know how to handle it. the warmth of his attention made you feel vulnerable, exposed in a way you hadn’t expected. but it also made you feel… cherished, like you were the only person in his world.

one afternoon, you were wiping down tables when he plopped down in a chair nearby, resting his chin in his hands as he watched you.

“what are you staring at now?” you asked, glancing at him over your shoulder.

“my beautiful girlfriend,” he said with a grin so sincere it made your chest ache.

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “you’re impossible.”

“and yet, you’re still with me.”

despite your best efforts to stay composed, sunoo always managed to draw out the softer, shyer side of you. and though it terrified you to be so open, so seen, it also filled you with a kind of warmth you’d never known before—like stepping into the sunlight after a long winter.

the warm light of sunoo’s home bathed the living room in a soft glow, creating a sense of comfort that seemed almost too perfect. the scent of cinnamon and roasted vegetables filled the air, mingling with the gentle hum of christmas carols playing in the background. laughter and the sound of clinking glasses bubbled up around you, and it was hard to believe you were even there, in this place that felt so full of warmth and life.

sunoo had invited you and your mother to an early christmas dinner at his house a few days ago. you had come alone, expecting your mom to stay home after the fight you’d had earlier that week. she’d been sharp with her words, and you’d spent the past few days wrapped in the solitude of your thoughts, wondering if things would ever be the same between you two. but now, as you glanced around at the smiling faces, the feel of this home settled into your chest in a way that was almost foreign, yet achingly familiar.

sunoo’s family, full of kindness and easygoing laughter, was everything that you’d never had. being the youngest child had given sunoo a softness that showed in everything he did—the way he laughed too loudly, the way he clapped his hands when he was excited, the way he instinctively reached for your hand when he wanted to share a joke. it was clear that love had been poured into him without question, without the burden of responsibility or guilt.

the warmth of that realisation grew inside you as dinner was served. sunoo’s father sat at the head of the table, telling stories that made everyone chuckle, while his mother bustled around, her hands full of serving spoons and platters. the room was a symphony of family, love, and shared history. it made you long for that kind of life, for that kind of belonging.

just as you were helping pass a dish of mashed potatoes, the doorbell chimed. sunoo, who had been sitting next to you, turned to look at you with a smile. “can you get that, y/n?”

you nodded, a little confused, and stood up, making your way to the front door. when you opened it, your eyes widened in surprise. there, standing in the cool night air with a basket of homemade goodies balanced in her arms, was your mom.

“mom?” you said, voice catching. she looked as surprised to see you as you were to see her, eyes wide and a little uncertain. but then she took a deep breath, stepping into the house with an air of resolve.

“hello, y/n,” she said, offering a soft smile that reached her eyes. she turned to the room beyond, where sunoo’s family was looking at her with curiosity. “merry christmas, everyone,” she said warmly, her voice more steady than you’d expected.

sunoo’s mother, surprised at the unexpected guest, beamed as she ushered her in. “merry christmas! we’re so glad you came.”

you stood there, feeling a flutter of hope. your mom walked past you, her eyes meeting yours for a brief moment as if to say, can we talk? you nodded, your heart pounding as she led you away from the bustling room.

she took you to a corner by the window, where the soft light from outside fell on both of you, mingling with the glow of the christmas tree. for a moment, neither of you spoke. you heard the sounds of laughter in the other room—the clinking of glasses, sunoo’s voice as he said something that made everyone laugh.

finally, your mom broke the silence. “y/n, i’ve been thinking a lot about us, and how i’ve let you down. when your dad left, i was lost, and i leaned on you for strength when you were just a kid yourself. i didn’t see how it affected you; i only saw my own pain. i’m so sorry for making you feel like you had to carry everything alone.”

her voice cracked, and she reached out, pulling you into a hug. you let yourself melt into her embrace, the weight of years of resentment and unspoken words finally falling away. a tear escaped, then another, as you let yourself feel everything you hadn’t allowed yourself to before—the hurt, the longing, and the relief.

“i’m sorry too, mom,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “i didn’t know how to say it, but i needed you to know i was scared. i was so scared of turning out like… like everything i didn’t want.”

she pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes glistening. “you’re not like that, y/n. you’re everything i could have hoped for, and more. i love you.”

“i love you too,” you said, your voice finally steady, the words feeling right and true. the basket of treats she’d brought had slipped from her grasp, forgotten as you both shared this moment that seemed to heal everything at once.

there was a noise from behind you—a soft cough. sunoo stood at the end of the hallway, a warm smile on his face. his eyes met yours and then shifted to your mom, who was still holding you close.

“everything okay?” he asked, voice soft.

you nodded, a tiny smile breaking through your tears. “yeah, everything’s perfect.”

sunoo stepped forward, pulling you into a hug that felt like the last piece of the puzzle falling into place. it felt like everything was right, and the past had been forgiven, making way for something better.

as the sound of laughter swelled behind you, you knew that this was a new beginning. and in that moment, you felt loved, not just by sunoo but by the family you had always dreamed of, and by the one that was learning to be there for you, piece by piece.

BONUS SCENE!

it’s christmas morning, and for once, the café is closed. you wake up to a rare, quiet morning, the kind that feels like it could stretch on forever. snow blankets the world outside, muffling every sound and adding a serene glow to the sky.

just as you’re about to head downstairs, you hear the faint sound of shuffling outside your front door. curiosity piqued, you open it to find a very familiar figure standing there, bundled up in a bright scarf and holding a giant thermos. sunoo grins up at you, cheeks pink from the cold, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“merry christmas!” he chirps, holding up the thermos. 

you stare at him, confused but already smiling. “sunoo, what are you doing here? shouldn’t you be with your family?”

he shrugs, his grin never faltering. “already had breakfast with them. besides, i wanted to see you.”

your heart does a little flip at his words, and before you can respond, he’s nudging past you, making his way into the living room like he’s lived here his whole life.

“wait,” you say, following him. “what’s in the thermos?”

“patience,” he says, wagging a finger at you. he sets the thermos down on the coffee table, pulling out two mugs he somehow managed to balance in his coat pocket. “sit.”

you reluctantly sink into the couch, watching as he pours steaming hot chocolate into both mugs. he even pulls out a tiny bag of marshmallows, which makes you laugh. “you’re ridiculous,” you mutter.

“and you love it,” he retorts, passing you a mug before plopping down next to you, so close that your knees bump.

the two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, sipping the hot chocolate as the snow falls outside. you catch yourself stealing glances at him—at the way his lashes frame his eyes, the way his nose scrunches up when he takes a particularly hot sip.

as you’re lost in thought, sunoo suddenly turns to you, catching you mid-stare. “what?” he asks, his tone playful but soft.

“nothing,” you say quickly, your cheeks warming.

he leans closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “were you admiring me?”

“don’t flatter yourself,” you say, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you.

sunoo laughs, setting his mug down before reaching out to tug the edge of the blanket draped over your shoulders. “come here,” he says, pulling you closer until you’re tucked against his side.

“you’re so bossy,” you mumble, but you don’t resist, letting your head rest on his shoulder.

“only for you,” he replies, pressing a light kiss to your hair.

you look up at him, something warm and fluttery building in your chest. his gaze drops to your lips for just a second, and your breath catches. before you can overthink it, sunoo leans in, brushing his lips against yours in a kiss so sweet and gentle it feels like a snowflake melting on your skin.

when he pulls back, his eyes search yours, a soft smile spreading across his face. “merry christmas, y/n,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“merry christmas,” you reply, your voice shaky but your heart steady.

he grins and presses his forehead to yours, his fingers playing with the hem of the blanket. “so, do i get a thank you for the hot chocolate and the kiss, or…?”

you laugh, swatting his arm lightly. “don’t push your luck.”

but when he leans back and pulls you closer, you know you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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[cryptidghostgirl]

hiii can i request a silly little scene i have in my head? ok so!

alastor x wife! reader- theyve been together since they were alive, legit partners in crime they both encouraged eachother to kill and when they reunited in hell after around 8 years they were independent once again UNTIL They got in trouble with Lilith and she took reader to be like her slave until Alastor finished helping Charie with her dream (until he helped prove that demons can be redeemed) so they didnt see each other for another 7 years (his absence)

And all throughout the first season hes like “I miss my wife, Husk. I miss her a lot” (while drunk-) like that one sonic dub meme and starts shaping his shadow creature into reader and talking to it and everyone is like “m yep he’s officially lost it.”

BUT then Sir Pentious is redeemed and Lilith sees and shes like “damn :/“ and send reader to the new hotel via portal and reader just. falls on the ground in front of the big entrance and everyone hears it and they rush out and Alastor is quiet, wide eyed and reader goes smth like “i know- i shouldnt have accepted it in your name but-“ blah blah she rambles on about it and Alastor just goes “Youre as beautiful as the day I los you.” LIKE THAT HEARYBREAKING SCENE FROM HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON 2 ;-; and everyone reacts in their own way

I REALLY NEED THIS BUT I LACK THE ABILITIES TO DO IT HEEELP (love u)

A/N oh bestie,, i got you. I was actually planning on something similar where Alastor was getting drunk at a bar and talking about the love of his life (I'm still gonna write that one too but I really like this prompt!!) You guys really come up with the best requests, please keep sending them in.

Fuel and the Fire (Alastor x Wife!Partner-in-Crime!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: ANGST also bad words (idk why i wrote the warnings like this). Also Angel Dust is in this one and I love him but he is a warning on his own.

Word Count: 2,392

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Alastor and Y/n, partners in crime, the fuel and the fire. On a first glance, it would be assumed she was his fuel, the coal and dry leaves he fed himself by. Once anyone got to know them -- and god, what trouble a person was in if they got to know them -- they quickly realized it was the other way around.

Hand in hand from day one, from childhood. Running from the cops, washing the blood off one another's faces. In the living world and life after death, nothing could tear them apart. He was the soil she planted herself in, he was her rock and Y/n? Well she was Alastor's everything. He'd do anything at all for her, all she had to do was ask.

For a decade, they terrified the living world. They were the reason to double check the lock on the door before bed, they were the ominous shadow at the corner. When cold death wrapped them in his reckless grasp, they turned their terror on Hell.

The pair made a name for themselves quickly, filling up the airwaves and making waves in the underworld. For generations, they reigned supreme. For generations, they knew no fear. Then one day, they simply disappeared.

When Alastor reappeared on the streets seven years later without his shadow, the town was alight with gossip. No one knew where he had been, where she still was, or why he had returned but Alastor quickly rebuilt his operation, setting up shop at Lucifer's daughter's Hazbin Hotel along with several of the souls he owned.

The hotel's other residents and workers were distrustful of the man, to say the least. He was shifty, wore a constant smile, and rumors circled around him like birds of prey. That was until about three months into his stay, at least.

Angel hadn't meant to eavesdrop. He'd been coming down to the bar for a drink and a rant of his own when he'd heard the familiar, crackling voice of the Hotel's host.

"I just... I miss her so much, Husk."

He sounded sad, utterly dejected. Angel crouched down on the staircase, hiding his slim body behind one of the ornate posts supporting the railing.

"You keep saying that but do nothing to go find her. She disappeared the same time as you, you know." came Husk's gruff reply.

"I know she did."

"You keep saying that, acting like you know something. Admit it: you don't know shit, Alastor."

Alastor's radio waves faltered, squeaking slightly. Angel tensed in terror, wondering if he'd been found out. This was clearly a private conversation, and the Radio Demon was testy at the best of times. Right now he seemed positively furious.

"Don't test me, Husk." Alastor said after a moment, breaking the tense silence, "She... we both got roped into something. I am doing my part, she is doing hers."

Angel straightened himself up, deciding it was high time he entered the room. He still wanted that drink, after all. He let his feet fall heavily on the stairs, alerting the others to his presence. Husk turned toward the sound, meeting Angel's eyes as he entered the bar. Alastor, on the other hand, kept his back to the spider demon.

Taking a seat beside Alastor, Husk immediately poured Angel a drink and slid it across the counter towards him.

"So, tough night, Smiles?" Angel asked, turning to Alastor who downed the rest of his drink in a single gulp.

"I don't know what you're talking about, my good fellow." Alastor hummed in response.

There was a threat in his voice, but Angel could tell the demon's heart wasn't in it. Everything was just, odd.

"Yeah... sure..." Angel scoffed, taking a sip of his own drink.

"Radio man was crying to me about his wife five seconds ago." Husk grumbled and Angel's eyes went wide.

"You have a wife?" he asked, turning back to Alastor, "I mean, I get it. I'm in to the whole 'tall dark and creepy' thing too but, you care about someone? I don’t know if I can see it.”

Alastor's eyes narrowed as he turned on Husk. The cat demon rolled his eyes in a brazen display of disrespect. He knew his master well, knew this was the only thing he had any leverage with the man on. With a deep breath, Alastor placed his hands firmly on the bar top and pulled himself to his feet. Not saying another word, he disappeared into his shadows.

That had been the first odd occurrence. Of course Angel had told Charlie and Charlie had told everyone, had even approached Alastor about it. The Radio Demon brushed it all off with skill and for a while, things were quiet.

About a month later, the second strange thing began happening. Alastor had always had a certain sway over shadows, everyone knew that. However, he very rarely used them, brought them out if it wasn't to hide him or take him where he needed to be. Then, suddenly, one began to follow him.

"Uh, Alastor?" Charlie had timidly approached him the first time she saw this happening.

"Yes, Charlie my dear?" Alastor asked, turning to face her as he tossed his microphone in the air, catching it neatly in the center of the stand.

"Well, we were just wondering if everything was... okay?" she asked, her hands behind her back and a pointed gaze on the shadow.

"If everything..." Alastor trailed off, following the path of Charlie's gaze and realizing what was going on, "No, no my dear. Everything is quite all right, quite alright indeed."

"Well, okay... If you say so." Charlie had relented after a few moments, unsure of what else to do.

Eventually, the members of the Hazbin Hotel grew used to the shadows, they too slipped out of their minds. Overcome with impending doom of the extermination just a month away, Alastor's strange behavior was no longer a priority.

That had been until the third odd occurrence came into being. It was Sir Pentious who had noticed it first, drawing it to the group's attention as Alastor walked through the lobby and past the group doing trust exercises there on his way to some meeting or another with the other overlords.

"Sir Pentious?" Charlie had called, trying to bring him back to earth as he watched the place Alastor had occupied, "Sir Pentious?"

"Pentious!" Vaggie yelled and his head snapped to her, "You're not coming up with some new plan to attack Alastor, are you?"

"No!" he quickly exclaimed, waving his hands frantically in the air, "Not at all just..."

"What?" Vaggie asked through gritted teeth, advancing a step forward, her spear in hand.

"It's just... doesn't that shadow Alastor has had following him well.... doesn't it kind of look like a woman?"

Husk broke out into wild laughter while Angel widened his eyes.

"Oh, he's definitely lost it now." Husk exclaimed as he calmed himself, clutching his stomach, "If I knew Y/n was the secret to breaking him down, I woulda done something about it years ago."

"No you wouldn't have, ya big talker." Angel teased, elbowing the cat demon lightly.

"Y/n?" Sir Pentious asked.

"Alastor's wife. That was her name." Husk replied.

"Did you know her?" Charlie asked.

Alastor had left the hotel, the threat that had held their questions at bay for months was gone and the topic was right. Husk nodded.

"So, what's she like?" Angel asked suggestively, "Is she more of a dom? Does deer boy like to get dicked down by his lady?"

"Gross." Charlie shook her head, her hands to her temples, "I do not want to know that."

"She's a good kid." Husk said after a moment, "She's nice..."

He trailed off.

"But?" Vaggie prompted, sensing there was more that he wanted to say.

Husk sighed.

"If you think Alastor is trouble, she's a fucking house fire set for the insurance money."

"So probably not interested in being a guest." Charlie dejectedly stated.

Husk shrugged.

"You never know. It has been seven years since anyone has seen her. Alastor allegedly knows where she's at but, he hasn't gone after her. Just keeps whining to me about it so, I don't know. Maybe she's changed. I doubt it though. Sweet as a pea, sharp as a knife."

Charlie had never felt such relief as when she learned Alastor had not died in the chaos of the battle. The hotel was destroyed, heaven was pissed, Sir Pentious had died but, at least he was alright. They rebuilt the hotel, Alastor's same shadow of a woman trailing after him wherever he went. After about a week, thanks to all the angelic and demonic powers involved in the construction, the new Hotel was finished.

It was just as they put the finishing touches on the place, hung the portrait of Sir Pentious they'd commissioned above the fire place, that a portal opened in the lobby. Everyone tensed, banding together behind Charlie and Alastor. Angels were coming, they were sure of it.

A crash echoed from the other side, a sharp yell and then something tumbled through the portal. With a flash, the portal disappeared behind the shape of a person huddled on the floor. She coughed violently.

Alastor's eyes went wide. Everyone else was too distracted to notice, but if they'd have been paying attention, they would have seen his shadow disappear.

The girl was filthy, her clothes torn and her hair tangled. She let out another, sharp cough before slowly lifting her head. Alastor took a trembling step forward.

"Y/n?" he asked, his voice soft in disbeleif.

A smile, wide and sharp, split the woman's bruised face in two.

"Hey hun, I'm home."

In a flash, he was at her side, helping her to her feet, checking her for wounds.

"Jesus, Y/n." he sighed, "You're a mess."

"I know."

"Y/n-"

"I know. I shouldn't have done it, you don't need to lecture me. I didn't have a choice. It was you or me, Al. I couldn't... I can't... I had to. You've gotta understand."

"Sweetheart-"

Y/n cut him off again, her speech a single, constant, stressed-out stream.

"It was stupid, I know. I know. I really do but, she gave me the option and I couldn't say no cause then if I said no you'd really be the one in trouble a-"

Alastor raised a hand gently to her cheek and Y/n's words caught in her throat. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes at last.

"You're as beautiful as the day I lost you."

His voice was soft, so quiet the others could barely hear him. Y/n's cheeks flushed a bright pink. Her hands found the lapels of his jacket, holding them lightly.

"I.." she stuttered, her mind racing.

With a sigh and a slight shake of her head, she gave up in the search for words and buried herself in his chest. Alastor wrapped his arms around Y/n, pressing her tightly into his frame.

"God, I missed you." she said, her voice muffled by the fabric.

Alastor pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

"I love you." she continued, "I'm so sorry."

Alastor pulled her off of him, leaning down the slightest bit so they were eye to eye. Y/n, wiped a stray tear away, letting out a slight, sad laugh. Alastor's eyes traversed her face, caressing every crevasse.

"I'm so glad your alright but, I don't understand." he said at last, "How are you back? The deal..."

Y/n nodded and Alastor's eyes went wider still. Leaning on Alastor's shoulder for support, she turned her eyes onto the rest of the group.

"You must be Charlie." she hummed softly, meeting the young demon's gaze.

Taking a deep breath, Charlie stepped forward and nodded.

"Yes, I am. I run the Hazbin Hotel, which is where you are, to help rehabilitate sinners."

"I know." Y/n nodded, her voice quavering slightly, "I've heard so much about you. You... my dear, it worked."

"I- what?" every other question died in Charlie's throat, shock shot through her body like a bullet.

"It worked." Y/n confirmed, "You did it. I had a deal, a deal which Alastor went to your side to get me out of. If you succeeded in redeeming a soul with his aid, I would be free. And here I am."

"Here you are." Alastor repeated, spinning Y/n to face him once again.

She wobbled unsteadily on her feet. Catching sight of this along with the numerous wounds all over her body, Alastor scooped Y/n up into his arms like he did when they had first been married, when they had crossed the first threshold together. Y/n looped her arms around his neck, exhaustion seeping in with the relief as she let her head fall on his chest.

"Vaggie..." Charlie began as she turned to her girlfriend, "you don't think..."

"Pentious?" Vaggie asked and Charlie nodded.

"It's gotta be." Angel confirmed.

"You did good, kid." Husk smiled, patting Charlie on the back.

Y/n raised her head at the sound of a familiar voice, her eyes opening.

"Husker?" she asked with a smile.

The cat demon stepped forward, bowing slightly.

"Husker! I-"

"Enough of that, my love." Alastor cut her off, tapping her nose gently, "You need a shower and some rest. You can meet everyone in the morning."

Y/n crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes as she looked up at her husband.

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise." he sighed.

"Does that mean you're staying?" Charlie asked tentatively and the couple turned to her.

"Whatever the little lady desires." Alastor stated, looking back down at his wife in a lovestruck daze.

"Yes, Charlie. We're staying." Y/n laughed, "Things need to start changing around here and I don't see anyone else doing a god damn thing to make that happen except for you."

"I.." Charlie was speechless, the kindness this fear inspiring woman was directing towards her, having never met her before. What Husk had said made sense, she smiled, "Thank you. I don't know what you did, but that you both so much."

"Anything for my favorite girl." Alastor kissed Y/n softly.

"Oh, get a room." Angel scoffed, rolling his eyes.

[bellaxgiornata]

You Are My Sunshine [2]

Pairing: Jax Teller x Fem!Reader Word count: 4.8k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Teller Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; sunshine!Reader/grumpy!Jax (somewhat), fluff, angst, friends to lovers, eventual smut, canon divergent, canon typical violence (more tags to possibly come)

a/n: May have been on a roll with writing, so enjoy part two sooner than anticipated! I greatly appreciated all the comments on the last part, too! Y'all are the reason I've already started on part three. I've also found that I'm enjoying the Jax POV's so there's more in this one and the next! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

tag list: @mariamadison6-blog @moongirlgodness

The rush of customers in the coffee shop had finally dwindled down after opening, leaving you with the usual mid-morning lull with which you’d grown accustomed. The elderly couple that came in almost every single morning around the same time to have a coffee was sitting at the exact same table in the far corner where they always sat, sipping their coffees and chatting quietly with each other. A college-aged young woman currently sat posted up at the front counter with her laptop and a notebook, her attention focused on an assignment. The sight of them brought a smile to your face as you filled up your small watering can at the underbar sink behind the counter.

You’d opened this coffee shop with the intention of it becoming a place for people around Charming to feel welcome. Whether that meant Honest Coffee was a spot to come and enjoy a cup of coffee for a first date or with a spouse of thirty years, or a place for students to focus on homework or others to come in and work. Whatever it was that brought repeat customers in here and allowed you the opportunity to meet the members of your town, it gave you joy seeing your shop growing into exactly what you’d hoped it could become. 

Mia, one of the baristas you’d hired when the shop had first opened months ago, stood beside you as she cleaned down the machines and wiped down the counters. You’d noticed she wasn’t quite as chatty, working in an unusually thoughtful silence this morning, but just as you’d been about to ask if something was on her mind, the approaching rumble of motorcycles had caused her to stiffen and stop working. The noise grabbed your own attention as it drowned out the sound of the music playing over the speakers. You gave Mia a curious sidelong glance before the line of bikes pulling into the lot across the street drew your attention over to the front windows of your coffee shop. 

Standing there holding the full watering can in your hands, you watched with Mia as the handful of men rolled into the lot across the street in the bright morning sunshine. The group of men backed up in the parking lot, lining their bikes beside each other in front of the clubhouse. The difference was almost immediate once they all began to cut their engines, the shop becoming noticeably quieter than it had been a second ago. It was something else you’d also just grown accustomed to with having a coffee shop located across the street from the Sons of Anarchy. 

It didn’t skip your notice how the few people in the shop were all reacting to the motorcycle club, either. Besides the way Mia had gone completely still beside you, the young woman working on her laptop was agitatedly clicking her nails on the countertop. Across the shop, the elderly couple was staring out of the window beside them with matching guarded expressions on their faces before you caught them exchanging a look with each other. The elderly woman rolled her eyes at her husband and you frowned at the sight.

It wasn't that you were oblivious about what was said around town about the Sons, because you definitely weren't. You'd heard the rumors–everything from them selling guns to making crack to being killers for hire. You knew most of the things people said about them were embellished, false assumptions, but you also were aware that some things probably held some truth. 

But that didn't matter to you. You were a firm believer in everyone deserving a fair chance. Equal treatment. You'd met Gemma, the supposed matriarch of the Sons, a few times now. She had come in often after you had first opened the shop. And while she'd absolutely come across completely different than the usual citizens of Charming, you'd found her to be a very sweet woman–in her own special way. And you'd had a strong inkling that her visits to your shop for coffee as she chatted with you about your plants or how business was coming along had just been a way for her to ease the pain of missing her son while he was doing time in Stockton.

A few nights ago when you had finally met that son of hers, you'd gotten a feel for the Sons’ President. You weren't entirely sure what had brought him in after you had closed that night–because you were certain it wasn't the coffee–but you had caught the hint of pain hidden deep in the depths of his blue eyes despite all of his charming smiles and pet names. In all honesty, he had seemed lonely and lost beneath all that playboy persona you'd heard about. You hadn't minded letting him stay to chat because he seemed like he needed a friend or some kind words, even if he didn't realize it himself. And you had been content to be that for a short time.

“It's unfortunate your coffee shop is across the street from that,” Mia muttered.

Snapping out of your thoughts at the sound of her voice, you looked over at where she'd resumed cleaning down the counter. You could feel the frustration building in your gut, but you did your best to tamp it down and keep it at bay. Not everyone in Charming was as determined to be as open-minded as you were. It was a small town, after all. And it wasn't like the Sons hadn't caused their own fair share of trouble over the years.

“Why do you say that?” you asked.

Setting the filled watering can down on the counter, you turned and focused on your employee. Mia pulled a face at the question before she dropped the towel she was cleaning with onto the countertop and fixed her full attention on you.

“Really?” she asked before gesturing a hand at the front shop window. “Your coffee shop is across the street from a whole criminal operation. A very loud, very crude one. It's not exactly the most ideal location.”

Shrugging a shoulder, your eyes darted across the street. A bunch of men in kuttes, as Jax had taught you they were called the other night, were congregating in front of their bikes. You could easily make out Jax amongst the group from his blonde hair even from this distance. He looked angry about something as he spoke, one of his arms gesturing in wide, sharp movements. Briefly you wondered what had made him quite so furious before your attention returned to Mia and the topic of conversation.

“The rent was vastly more affordable for this building,” you told her, knowing exactly why it was. “And while it can occasionally get a little noisy with the motorcycles, and some people aren't the biggest fan of our neighbors, I don't really feel bothered by their presence.”

Mia sent you a flat look, one of her brows arching upwards in disbelief. “They don't bother you? Are you completely insane?”

“They're really not that bad,” you disagreed.

Both of Mia's brows shot up onto her forehead at that, her jaw partially dropping. You playfully rolled your eyes at her in return, an amused smile curving the corners of your lips. She was always so dramatic.

“Are you serious?” Mia asked. “Have you forgotten Gemma already since her last visit?”

You shook your head at the question. Of course you hadn't forgotten the woman. You didn’t think it was possible for anyone to forget her.

“Gemma is just blunt. She speaks her mind,” you replied. “Maybe it's a bit much for most people, but she's really not all that bad.”

“Well the guys over there–” Mia continued, gesturing back out the front window with a hand again while remaining focused on you, “–definitely aren't good.”

You shook your head, picking the full watering can up from its place on the counter. “That is entirely a matter of opinion. You can’t paint people in black and white, Mia. What one person considers “good” is arguably “bad” to someone else, and vice versa. It's objective. A social construct. It isn't like they haven't participated in charity work around Charming. Done things to arguably help the town on occasion, either.”

“Well, you can't argue that they don't break laws. And I think killing people is pretty black and white, boss,” Mia called after you as you began watering the plants in the shop. “That’s about as sharp of a contrast as you can get between the two.”

“Maybe in some cases,” you agreed, watering one of your pothos plants that had been growing like crazy in a hanging basket nearby. “But to some extent, I think there's more factors to be considered before passing judgement. Like the why behind it all. Something no one in this town probably really knows when it comes to each one of them.”

Mia exhaled sharply at your words, the sound almost like she was deflating at your response. A moment later she began laughing a little, the noise catching your attention as you moved to water the next plant.

“Okay, I didn't sign up for one of your lectures on morality this morning,” Mia teased you.

You grinned as you focused back on watering the plant before you. “All I'm saying is that humans are complex, you can't just–”

“Lectures on morality?” Gemma's distinct voice cut through the conversation, causing both you and Mia to glance over at the shop’s entrance. “I thought you just sold coffee here, now you're lecturing on morality, sweetheart?”

Mia grew tense behind the counter instantly, her mouth closing as she forced a professional smile onto her face that clearly looked forced when she greeted Gemma. But you genuinely smiled over at the dark-haired woman, and that smile only grew wider when you saw who she had brought with her–Abel. His blonde head came to just about knee-height beside her as he held onto her hand, but the moment the almost one-and-a-half year old little boy saw you, the biggest smile spread across his own face. 

During Jax’s time away in Stockton, Gemma had spent a lot of time watching Abel when he wasn't with his nanny. Which meant sometimes she had brought him with her when she came in for coffee, so you had gotten to know him along with Gemma over the past few months. And Abel had gotten used to the free cookie you'd given him every time–anything from chocolate chips to snickerdoodles to monster cookies. He'd taken to calling you ‘cookie’ because of it, something you personally adored hearing in his little voice every time.

“I didn't know my favorite customer was coming in today!” you exclaimed.

Turning in a hurry, you set the watering can down on the counter behind you before rushing across your shop, not having seen the little boy for over a week. The moment he began hopping in place next to Gemma, his small hand still wrapped around hers, you felt your heart melt. He was the sweetest little boy.

“You're more chipper than usual today,” Gemma observed.

You caught the teasing smile on her face before you knelt down in front of Abel, your smile widening when he waved at you and called you 'cookie’ once again. You'd been about to open your mouth to ask him if he was ready to pick out a cookie today, but a now familiar voice behind Gemma caught your attention.

“What about cookies, little man?” 

Looking up from your place on the floor of the shop, you saw Jax stepping inside just behind his mother, the door falling shut behind him. The moment his attention left Abel and focused on you, you went still. Judging by the look of confusion on his face, you guessed he hadn't known about Abel's visits with Gemma to your shop. But behind that outward confusion written on his face, you could still see the remnants of something like anger left over from when you'd seen him yelling about something across the street a short time ago. You were half tempted to ask how he was doing today, but you had a feeling the question would be met with either a lie or hostility. So you left it alone this time. 

“Been bringing Abel here with me since you boys were in Stockton,” Gemma explained, turning on the spot and studying her own son closely as he stepped further inside. “He calls the owner ‘cookie’ cause she always gives him one when he visits.”

Jax's expression shifted to something harder when his mother mentioned Stockton Prison, a muscle jumping in his cheek. You quietly watched as some sort of silent exchange occurred between them while you remained kneeling in front of Abel.

“The hell are you doing here, anyway, Jackson?” Gemma asked after a moment of silence, still eyeing him suspiciously. “Don't you have a...thing to go deal with?”

Jax’s eyes narrowed at his mother before he answered. “A few of the guys are handling it right now,” he replied, voice tense. “Thought I'd see what you and Abel were up to. Figured I could use a coffee myself.”

Gemma’s head tilted to the side, one dark brow arching up at his comment as if she didn’t quite believe him. Not wanting to get in the middle of whatever was going on between them, you stood back up, eyes shifting between the pair.

“So…is it alright if I let Abel pick out a cookie this morning?” you asked cautiously.

Both Gemma and Jax turned their attention to you at the sound of your voice. Almost simultaneously they both responded to the question, the sight causing you to bite back a grin.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“Sure thing, sunshine.”

Gemma's head immediately snapped in Jax’s direction as she pulled a face at him. “Sunshine?” she questioned sharply.

Fighting down a laugh at the briefly sheepish expression you caught on Jax’s face before he recovered, you grabbed Abel's hand and led him over towards the front counter. You noticed the firm look Jax sent his mother before you walked away–the one clearly telling her to not say anything further.

As you helped Abel pick out one of the freshly baked cookies you had made–peanut butter brownie swirl–you could hear Mia awkwardly taking Gemma and Jax’s drink order behind the register. She began fumbling behind the counter shortly afterwards as she started on Gemma's latte, clearly more thrown off by the presence of Jax with her this time. The only time he'd come into the coffee shop was the other night after closing when it had just been you here. Besides that night and Gemma's visits, no other Son or affiliate of the Sons had ever actually come into your shop. 

You could tell Jax’s presence wasn't just affecting Mia as Abel happily ran back to his father's side with his cookie in hand. The young woman at the counter doing her schoolwork kept shooting Jax nervous sideways glances. She had almost imperceptibly inched away from them where she sat at the counter, as if wanting to put some distance between herself and the pair. Across the room, the elderly couple was scowling at Gemma and Jax, whispering amongst themselves at the table. 

Oddly enough, neither Jax nor Gemma seemed to notice or react to the negative attention. They were too busy leaning against the counter waiting for their drinks as Abel contentedly munched on his cookie, both mother and son talking in hushed tones. Your smile faltered a little at the wary look you once more caught on the young woman's face before you saw Mia growing flustered behind the counter. Deciding to rescue her, you joined her behind the counter and started on Jax’s coffee–the same order as what you'd made him the other night.

Mia shot you a grateful look as she filled the frothing pitcher with milk. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Smiling as you started on Jax’s coffee, you shook your head at her. “You're making this into something more than it needs to be,” you whispered back. “They're just here for coffee like anyone else.”

Mia leaned over towards you, pausing as she set the frothing wand of the espresso machine into the pitcher. “Usually my customers aren't armed though,” she countered quietly. “That makes a difference.”

“He's not going to shoot you for messing up a coffee order,” you told her as you grabbed a to-go cup for Jax’s coffee.

“You have no proof of that. Just look at his face today, he looks like he'd shoot someone for less,” she murmured.

The loud sound of the milk frothing abruptly ended the conversation as Mia focused back on Gemma's order. As Jax’s coffee began extracting into the pitcher, you couldn’t resist looking over your shoulder to where he and his mother were still leaning against the counter. 

He did look upset, Mia wasn't wrong about that. Both of his brows were pulled marginally together, a slight crease visible between them. His mouth was drawn into a straight line as he listened to whatever Gemma was saying, the corners of his lips occasionally shifting downwards. There was even a noticeable stiffness in the way he was just leaning against the countertop that hadn't been there when you'd met him the other night. But behind all that rigidness that made him look tightly wound, there was an exhaustion in his eyes that seemed like it went further than just a bad night of sleep.

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you focused back on the coffee you were making, but a second later an idea struck you. Reaching over beside the stack of to-go cups, you grabbed the black marker used for writing names on orders and began writing something small on the outside of his cup, a faint smile on your lips as you did. Afterwards, you placed the cap on the marker and set it back before you began filling Jax’s cup with the coffee that had finished brewing. As you finished up, you heard Mia turn around and nervously give Gemma her drink. 

Grabbing a lid, you fastened it onto Jax’s cup before also turning around. He was already focused on you, his blue eyes watching as you stepped over to where the pair stood on the other side of the counter. You set Jax's drink down in front of him, a warm and friendly smile on your face. He looked like he could use one–and probably a hug, too, but you figured that would certainly be a weird offer. 

“Thanks, sunshine,” Jax said.

There was the ghost of a smile on his lips for the briefest of moments before it disappeared as his hand reached out, grabbing the cup without looking at it. He looked as if he'd been about to say something more, but the amused huff from Gemma had his expression quickly growing further irritated than it had been a moment ago. 

“Won't bother you today,” Jax told you, pushing off the counter with his ringed hand. “Gotta deal with some shit. But thanks for the coffee.”

A small pang of disappointment hit you when you realized he wasn't going to even chat for a minute, but you figured you should just count it as a win that he had come back into the shop at all. Maybe that meant there’d be a third visit. With a smile still on your lips, you nodded back at him.

“Of course,” you replied. “I'm always happy to fuel a caffeine addiction.”

Gemma laughed a little, shaking her head at what you’d said. It was a line you'd used a few times now and she knew that. 

“You should lay off on snorting those coffee beans, sweetie. You're already plenty perky,” she teased as she grabbed Abel's hand.

“Or maybe that's my secret,” you jokingly countered, enjoying the way Jax seemed to be fighting back a grin as he sauntered over to the counter by the exit to add sweetener into his coffee. “A few lines of freshly ground beans first thing in the morning. Wakes you right up.”

Gemma laughed, the sound loud and genuine. A flood of pride hit you, especially when Jax began securing the lid back on his coffee, his attention on you as an almost cocky, amused grin tugged at his lips. Maybe it was only for a moment, but you’d briefly brightened both of their mornings. 

“You take care, sunshine,” Gemma teased.

She turned and led Abel out of the door, Jax following behind her now with a surly look on his face at the way she’d used his nickname for you. Mia stepped over beside you as they left, watching the three of them cross the street back towards the clubhouse and Teller-Morrow. 

“It’s insanely weird how well you can get along with absolutely anyone,” Mia said after a moment, turning to look over at you standing beside her. “You realize that, right?”

Your smile only grew wider at her words as your eyes remained fixed on the retreating form of Jax. You’d gotten a bit more of a genuine smile out of him today even if you hadn’t gotten much conversation. That was something, at least. Eyes shifting over to Mia, you shrugged a shoulder.

“I like people,” you answered simply.

“The hell you think you’re doing with that girl over there?” Gemma asked sharply.

Her eyes fell on Jax as they passed the line of bikes in front of the clubhouse, Abel’s hand still wrapped around hers as he finished eating his cookie. Jax immediately rolled his eyes at his mother’s tone, not interested in being scolded like he was a teenager all over again.

“I’m not doing anything,” he responded firmly. 

Gemma shot him a pointed look, clearly not buying what he was saying. He huffed in annoyance, stuffing his free hand into his jeans pocket as he brought his coffee cup up to his lips for another drink. Christ, it was still as good as the other night when you’d made him one.

“Bullshit,” Gemma continued. “Sunshine? Really? I’ve never once in my life heard you call a woman that, Jax. And I’ve heard you call them plenty of shit.”

He swallowed down the coffee, his irritation rising with where he felt she was trying to take this conversation. “So what? It’s a goddamn nickname, Gem. You got a problem with a nickname now?” he snapped at her.

Her lips drew into a thin line across her face as she came to an abrupt halt which in turn had Jax stopping just behind her and Abel. The way her eyes narrowed at him meant trouble and he knew it.

“That sweet, nice coffee shop owner back there is not club pussy, Jackson,” she began sternly. “Just because her shop happens to be as close as it is to the clubhouse does not mean–”

“Jesus Christ, relax!” he shouted, cutting her clean off. “You don’t think I know that? I’m not interested in her like that, alright? I just stopped over there the other night because…” 

His voice trailed off for a minute, unable to even try to think of a reason as to why he had, especially with the way Gemma was staring at him right now. Truthfully, he still hadn’t known why he’d gone into your shop the other night in the first place, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about you on and off since then. And he certainly had still been watching you through your shop’s windows.

Jax ran a hand across his mouth in agitation before he continued, trying to keep his tone more level. “Look, I stopped in there the other night ‘cause I saw her closing up. She always just looks so goddamn happy and…I dunno. Just made me curious what the hell was up with someone like that, okay? I’m not trying to get her in my bed or anything, Gem. I promise.”

“Better not be,” Gemma warned, her eyes still narrowed at him. “Because that girl is not meant for our world and you know it. She’s far too kind and sweet, she’d probably have a heart attack spending one night around the guys at the clubhouse. And I don’t need you charming your way into her bed and breaking her tender little heart and having her spitting into my coffee whenever I stop in because I birthed a little shit.”

Jax scoffed, pulling a face at her over-dramatic words. “I’m not going to sleep with her. You can calm the hell down already. And I highly doubt she’d ever spit into a coffee, she seems far too nice for that.”

“Not the point,” Gemma countered. 

Jax watched as his mother led his son by the hand back towards TM’s office, a scowl on his face as the noise from the garage rang out around him. Anger flared within Jax from the conversation he’d just had with her. He didn’t know why her warning to stay away from you had him bristling and itching to hit something because she’d been completely right on all fronts. You were a good person and absolutely nothing like the club whores he was used to. Not that he’d had any intention of it, but sleeping with you would certainly end with your heart getting broken because Jax was not a relationship kind of guy–even less so after the bullshit with Tara that made him hate the idea of one even more. And the thought of you knowing any little bit about the things he’d done for the club had his hand tightening around the paper cup of coffee you’d given him. 

Gemma was entirely right. You weren’t someone who belonged in his world. Without a doubt, Jax knew the only thing he’d ever be capable of doing to you would be snuffing out that bright, warm light he found himself strangely drawn to, and that wasn’t something he’d ever want to do to you–even if he barely knew you. 

Teeth gritting together, Jax knew that you’d be better off if he stopped visiting your damn coffee shop. He glanced over at the nearby trash can just outside of the garage. He exhaled a sharp breath and made his way over towards it, reaching his hand out with the mostly full cup of coffee. As it hovered over the open bin, Jax about to drop it into the garbage, black ink hidden behind his hand caught his eye.

Frowning, he pulled the cup back and shifted his hold on it to get a better look. In small, delicate handwriting he saw the words ‘maybe this is the cup.’ Jax’s eyes narrowed in confusion as he reread the line over again, wondering what the hell you’d meant by writing that on his cup. And then he remembered the other night when he’d stopped into your shop and you’d told him you believed a good cup of coffee could make a bad day better or some bullshit along those lines. When he’d disagreed, he remembered your words exactly, hearing your own voice in his head for a moment. 

“You never know, maybe you just haven't had the right cup of coffee yet.”

An amused breath fell out of Jax as he shook his head at the fucking cup of coffee in his hand, reading what you’d written again–“maybe this is the cup.” You were so goddamn persistent and optimistic, weren’t you? You really thought one of these days that a stupid cup of coffee was going to somehow change his day, didn’t you?

“You’re something else, sunshine,” Jax muttered to the cup in his hand.

He stared at it for a moment longer, his eyes tracing along the lines of black ink before a voice behind him cut through his thoughts. Jax’s head darted over his shoulder, spotting Chibs making his way towards him.

“There ya are, Jackie,” he began. “Was lookin’ for ya. We got an update on that problem, might wanna head to the chapel so we can fill ya in.”

Jax sighed softly, nodding his head at Chibs. “Right,” he agreed. “Let’s go.”

He turned around, following Chibs back across the lot to the clubhouse. As he walked, he drew the cup of coffee up to his lips for another drink. When he swallowed the warm liquid down, his gaze inevitably returned to your neat, delicate script beside his fingers. The corner of his lips twitched.

[maldaptivedreamer]

Save An Outlaw... - Arcane

Sevika groans, grasping her side. Warmth floods onto her hand as blood trails down her arm. Digging her heels into dark fur, she urges the horse faster. 

She huffs, shaking her head as she tries to chase away the darkness fogging the edges of her vision. Her snarl quickly fades, her body unable to resist the exhaustion consuming her.

content: Sevika x fem reader, errors/mistakes, wild west au, outlaw/cowboy sevika, young adult sevika, strained mother/daughter relationship, fighting/violence, guns, blood/gore, violence against animals, description of animal harm/mutilation, name calling, canon character cameo

wc: ~8k

a/n: This fic was inspired by the ao3 fic, I'm a Lady Lover Darlin', by Athena_Winter13. I love Sevika and cowboy Sevika hits different. Also this turned out to be pretty long, so I'll be posting it in 3 or 4 big chunks.

MINORS DNI NSFW 18+

Masterlist Next Part

The setting sun warms your face as you urge your horse faster. The town lights fade behind you as you ride further into the plains.

Slowing your pace, you click your tongue against your teeth in frustration. Dismounting, you pace back and forth, clawing a hand through your hair in agitation.

“I don’t understand, Honey. Mama’s crazy. I mean-” Scoffing humorlessly, you spin towards the light brown horse and throw your arms out by your sides. “I’m doin’ just fine on the ranch. Don’t need no man to keep up the ranch. Pa’s been gone a while and she’s done just fine without him.” 

Your heaving chest gradually slows as you silently stand there, watching Honey peacefully graze on a patch of grass. Groaning, you rub your face. “I know. I know. She’s just worried for me but that don’t mean-”

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Your hair whips wildly against your face as you spin towards the noise. The foliage rustles, branches trembling together. 

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Furrowing your brows, you curse yourself for leaving the gun at the ranch. Scanning your surroundings, you desperately search for a weapon but only find a large stick. You can't help but laugh at your own stupidity before picking up the branch and cautiously approaching the source of the clacking. The sound of horse hooves and whinnying grows louder as you move closer, treading lightly around the dense foliage.

And then you see her.

A woman, around your age, lying on the ground. Blood darkens the material of her clothes and two shiny pistols lie holstered on her hip. Her muscular arms lay limp on her outstretched legs.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Your eyes snap towards a large horse, its’ dark coat gleaming in the lowering sun. Swallowing nervously, you cautiously throw away your makeshift weapon and raise a placating hand towards the horse. He responds with a loud whinny and waves his head towards the woman. Your mind races with questions and theories as you take tentative steps towards the stranger.

"Yeah, sure. I got it, I got it... Hope your owner doesn't kill me." You mutter under your breath, trying to mask your nerves. "Or is alive." You add even quieter.

Grimacing, you lower to your knees. You eye her pistols, watching her as you slowly take them out of her holsters.

Placing a gentle hand on the woman’s shoulder, you nudge her in an effort to wake her. Suddenly, she jolts awake and you let out a scream, falling backwards in surprise. Snarling, she reaches for her guns.

Heart racing, you press a hand to your chest to calm your rushed breaths. The stranger struggles to keep her eyes open. 

"Yah know, your growlin’ and huffin’ loses a bit of its’ scary when you’re bleedin’ out." You joke, trying to lighten the tense atmosphere. Slowly rising to your feet, you wave her pistols at her. "I took these just in case you tried to kill me."

Wrinkling your nose at her defensive stance, you shrug. "Though I'm sure you could kill me without it." You shove the guns deep into your skirt pocket and scan her form again. As much as you joked about her not looking scary, she definitely is. Pressed into a boulder and growling like a cornered animal. 

With a worried expression, you gently lower yourself to the ground, trying to show the woman that you mean no harm. "Listen." You say softly. “My town’s close. It’s small but we’ve got a doctor that can help you.”

Her silver eyes are frantic with fear and desperation as she scowls at you. “My guns, now.” She demands raspily.

Pursing your lips to the side, you frown at her. “With all due respect ma’am, I’d feel more secure if you didn’t have your guns.”

Her face is unwavering and she stares in silence.

Your lips part as you grow incredulous, watching as her red cloak wettens further with blood. Groaning, you cave. You make your annoyance clear as you sigh, pressing the cylinder release on each revolver. Eyeing her sarcastically, you tip the guns. The bullets clang against one another as they fall to the ground. 

Tossing them into her lap, you smile sharply. “Happy now?”

She quickly holsters them on her thighs. Grunting, the sound layered in pain, she presses a bloody hand against the rough surface of the boulder and slowly pushes herself to her feet. You step forward instinctively to help her, but she gives you a pointed glare.

Huffing in frustration, you stand with your arms crossed, watching as she struggles to stay upright against the rock wall. You roll your eyes at her stubbornness. “Plan on gettin’ on that horse all by yourself too, cowboy?” You say, unimpressed.

Sweat beads down her forehead and she can't hide her sharp intake of breath as she sways. Her face takes on a grayish hue and you rush to her side, ignoring her protests. “Easy, cowboy. Let’s getcha all patched up and you can be on your merry way, hmm?”

As you try to lead her towards her horse, her legs tangle with yours and you stumble, struggling to support her weight.

“C’mon.” You pant, urging her horse closer. “You wanted me to help and I’m helpin’. You gotta come a little closer.” You grunt out.

It doesn’t. You curse this stubborn, beautiful woman and her equally infuriating horse.

Tears fill your eyes in anticipation of getting her on the horse. You bite your tongue to keep from crying out, grunting with effort as you finally reach the stallion. You press your damp forehead into its fur, taking a moment to catch your breath. 

Before you can fully gather yourself, the stranger slips out of your grasp and mounts her horse. Your eyes grow wide as she heaves herself onto the stallion’s back.

Gasping, you throw your arms around her muscular thigh as she falls limp. Pressing your head into her thigh, you grit your teeth. “God-fucking-dammit.”

You take a few deep breaths, preparing yourself before jumping onto the horse behind her and using your body to steady her with each slow movement.

You wrap your arms around her tightly and grab onto the reins. A quick click of your tongue summons your horse to your side. And with that, you start your slow journey back to town.

Sevika slowly opens her eyes to the sight of a wooden ceiling above her. The bed beneath her feels soft and comfortable, a luxury she hasn't experienced in a long time. As she moves to sit up, her hand automatically falls to her stomach and she finds clean bandages wrapped around the wound. With a groan, she heaves her legs over the side of the bed and stands, wincing at the nauseating pain that shoots through her body.

Stumbling towards the door, she hears muffled voices coming from outside.

...

You resist the urge to groan. “Mama, I-”

Your mother’s voice is short as her face scrunches in anger. “You don’t know her. How many times I gotta tell you, she could’a hurt you. And you shouldn’t have been out so far past sundown.”

Your voice grows slightly high pitched as you try to defend yourself. “Mama, that’s not-”

“You think just anybody gets shot like that. You-”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. Absentmindedly, your eyes wander to a corner behind your mother. A small spider has inhabited the space, a fly flails in its intricate web and you watch in fascination.

“Are you listening to me?” Your mother’s sharp voice pierces your ears.

Wincing, you peek one eye at her and shrug. “Would it help if I said yes?”

She inhales a breath to continue, but the door is pushed open, interrupting her lecture. You sigh in relief as your mother turns to the stranger. Her lips part in a strained smile. Your mother’s voice is steely as she introduces you both to the stranger. “Good to see you awake, been nappin’ for quite a while. Gave everyone in town quite the scare.”

The woman glances at you, before nodding to your mother. She gruffly speaks, her throat scratchy and dry. “How long have I been ‘nappin’?”

Grimacing, you take a hesitant step forward and answer. “Bout four days.”

Her eyes rake over your frame, almost dismissively. Your mother glances between you skeptically, her voice protective as she steps into the space between you. “What’s your name, stranger?”

Clearing her throat, the woman ignores your mother's question and shifts her muscular frame against the wooden door frame. Her voice is demanding. “Where’s my stuff?”

You wince at her tone and quickly intervene. “Your horse’s bein’ well taken care of. Your stuff’s just in the room behind you.” Your eyes flicker to your mom, before you give the stranger a purposeful nod into the room. “I can help get you settled, right mama?” You turn back to your mother and flash her an innocent smile. 

Your mother’s eyes pinch in anger before she covers it up with a wide grin, her knuckles white as she grips her skirt tightly. “I’ll get started on dinner then. You let me know if you need anything.” She looks at you with a mix of frustration and concern before hesitantly going downstairs.

You both watch her leave, the air thick with tension.

Your smile fades as soon as she's out of sight. Turning to face the stranger, you lift a brow at her unmoving form. “You gonna go in or you wanna ask your questions out here?” You ask dryly, your voice laced with annoyance.

You both silently sit on opposing sides of the room. Grimacing, your eyes dance around the room while hers remain steady on you. You fidget under her intense gaze, nervously scratching at your wrist. Letting out a resigned sigh, you finally break the tense stillness. “I told you, I had to hide ‘em so that they’d help you. I’m sorry.”

Silver eyes darken into a murky gray and she purses her lips angrily. “Well, un-hide them and bring them to me.” 

Huffing a breath, you roll your shoulders and meet her gaze. “And where exactly do you plan on hidin’ them? You look plenty scary and everyone in town is already keepin’ a close eye on you. If they see you carryin’ then there’s no tellin’ what they’ll do.”

The stranger's eyes narrow, the intensity of her glare sending a chill down your spine. “If you think I can’t kill a few deputies with my hands, you're wrong.”

Sputtering, you jump out of your seat and frantically wave your hands in front of you. “Woah, woah, woah. Hold your horses, cowboy. Ain’t no lawmen here. I told you, my town’s small. If you’re runnin’ from something’ then this was the best place to end up.”

The stranger remains expressionless, causing another uncomfortable silence to settle over the room. Your nerves begin to tingle and your tongue feels like lead in your mouth. Cringing, your voice comes out awkward and rushed. “So- uhh- you hungry? And what’s your name? If you don’t wanna tell anyone your name for whatever reason then just give me a fake name. Jus’ somethin’ to call you by would be nice instead of ‘stranger’, yah know?”

Sighing, Sevika feels a gnawing hunger in her stomach. Huffing another annoyed breath, she stands and answers you. “Sevika.”

You quickly move ahead of her and send her an unsure smile. “S’good to meet yah Sevika. If that’s your real name. Oh, and just so you know, you kind of smell like shit right now. But don't worry, I'll show you where the shower is later." The words spill out of your mouth before you can stop them. Silently sighing in embarrassment, you cringe, your shoulders curling in on themselves.

With a deep breath, you rise from your crouched position. Adjusting your hat, you click your tongue and swing your leg over Honey. With a steady trot, you follow the fence line, scanning for any signs of further damage or breaches. Absentmindedly, your mind wanders to the stranger in your home. Sevika.

The sun beats down relentlessly as you guide Honey along the fence line. Your thoughts drift back to Sevika, wondering what kind of trouble she might be in. A woman with a gunshot wound doesn't exactly scream 'law-abiding citizen.' But there's something about her that intrigues you, despite her gruff demeanor.

A flicker in your peripheral vision snaps you back to attention. You pull Honey to a stop, squinting against the glare. Seeing a small gap in the fence where the barbed wire has frayed, you approach the damaged section. With a grunt, you dismount.

As you examine the break, the sound of approaching hoofbeats makes you turn. Your breath catches in your throat as you see Sevika riding towards you, her red cloak billowing behind her. She still looks grey and sickly.

Frowning, you shield your eyes from the sun and speak up to her. “The hell are you doin’?”

Sevika scowls at you. “I’m leavin’.”

Nodding, you send her a sarcastic smile. “And exactly, how far do you think you’ll get before you bleed out?” Shrugging, you chuckle mockingly. “And this time I won’t be there to rescue you, princess.”

Sevika's scowl deepens at your words. She shifts uncomfortably in the saddle, her face drawn in pain. "I can take care of myself." She growls, but her voice lacks any real heat as she grasps her side.

You raise an eyebrow, eyeing her skeptically. "Sure you can. That's why I found you half-dead in the middle of nowhere." You take a step closer to her horse, your voice softening. "Look, I get it. You're not the type to sit still and let others help you. But you're in no shape to be ridin’ off alone."

Sevika's jaw clenches as she glares down at you, clearly torn between her desire to leave and the reality of her condition. You can see the internal struggle playing out on her face.

With a sigh, you place your hands on your hips. "You've got a safe place to rest up and heal. Why the rush to leave?"

Her silver eyes narrow suspiciously. "Why do you care? You don't know me."

"Maybe my mama’s teachin’s of that ‘take care of thy neighbor’ bullshit finally stuck." You retort with a smirk. "Or maybe I don’t want the supplies and time I spent on the mysterious stranger I rescued to go to waste." You lie, attempting to appease her.

Sevika remains silent, her gaze intense as she studies you. You can almost see the gears turning in her head as she weighs her options.

Finally, she lets out a resigned sigh and slowly slides off her horse. “I’m not takin’ your pity. I’ll work for everything. And I want my shit back.” She grumbles.

Eyeing her from the corner of your eye, you grab your tools and give her an easy task. In her pain induced haze, she doesn’t notice.

You both work in silence for hours, the repairs taking longer with her help.

Wiping the sweat from your brow, you glance over at Sevika. She's leaning heavily against a nearby post, her face ashen and her breathing labored.

"Alright, the fence’s done." You announce, trying to keep the concern out of your voice. "Let's head back and get somethin’ to eat."

Sevika opens her mouth to protest, but a sudden wave of pain causes her to grimace and clutch at her side. You move quickly to support her and she attempts to push you away.

"Don't be stubborn." You mutter as you help her onto her horse. "You've done more than enough to earn your keep today. If you don’t rest now, you’ll just have to stay longer." With an exhausted nod, Sevika trots to the house.

You quickly follow behind, hovering close to her.

Reaching the bunkhouse, you leave the horses at the porch. Finding the building empty, you nod towards the bathroom. “Why don’t you go clean up, replace your bandages, and I’ll get started on the food?”

Sevika hesitates, her pride clearly battling with her exhaustion and pain. Finally, she gives a curt nod, gathering some clothes and limping towards the bathroom, one hand still pressed against her wound.

You busy yourself in the small kitchen, throwing together a hearty stew. As you're stirring the pot, you hear the bathroom door open. Sevika emerges, her hair damp and her face looking slightly healthier.

"Sit." You say, nodding towards the table. "Food's almost ready."

Sevika obeys without protest, sinking into a chair with a barely concealed wince. You ladle out two bowls of stew and set one in front of her, along with a chunk of bread.

You both eat in silence. Each spoonful of food is a slow, deliberate movement as you watch her closely, your eyes fixed on her stomach.

Your spoon scrapes against the bottom of the bowl as you study her. "How's your stomach?" You finally ask, your question laced with worry and concern.

Sevika pauses mid-bite, her silver eyes flicking up to meet yours. For a moment, she says nothing, seeming to weigh her words carefully.

"It's fine." She finally grunts, returning her attention to her bowl.

You can't help but scoff at her stubborn response. "Yeah, alright."

Sevika's eyes narrow at you, but you ignore it. "Look, I know you're not one for showin' weakness or askin' for help. But if that wound gets infected, you could die. So how about we cut the bullshit and you tell me how it's really feelin'?" You say bluntly.

For a long moment, Sevika just stares at you, her face unreadable. Then, almost imperceptibly, her shoulders slump.

"It… hurts." She admits reluctantly. “And I…”

She trails off and you wave your hand for her to continue. Sighing, her spoon plops into the bowl as she drops it. “I couldn’t change the bandages.”

You nod, pursing your lips. "Alright, let's take a look then."

Sevika hesitates, her pride clearly warring with her need for help. Finally, she gives a curt nod and slowly stands, grimacing as the movement pulls at her wound.

You lead her to the bathroom, gesturing for her to sit on the edge of the tub.

"Shirt off." You instruct, rummaging through a cabinet for fresh bandages and antiseptic.

Sevika complies slowly, her movements stiff and pained. Kneeling in front of her, your eyes meet hers briefly before you focus on her wound.

"This might hurt a bit." You warn softly as you begin to peel away the old bandages. Sevika remains stoic, but you can see the tension in her jaw as she grits her teeth against the pain.

The wound is angry and red, but thankfully shows no signs of infection. You clean it gently, feeling Sevika's muscles tense under your touch.

Attempting to distract her, you start talking. “It looks good so far, no inflammation or anythin’. Should take about 2 or 3 months to fully heal.”

As you work on Sevika's wound, you can feel her intense gaze on you. You try to keep your hands steady as you apply the fresh bandages, hyper-aware of her proximity and the warmth radiating from her skin.

"There." You say softly, smoothing down the last edge of the bandage. "All done."

You look up, meeting Sevika's silver eyes. For a moment, neither of you move. Then Sevika clears her throat, breaking the spell.

"Thanks." She mutters gruffly, reaching for her shirt.

You stand quickly, averting your eyes as she buttons up her shirt. "No problem. Just… let me know if you need help again, alright?"

Sevika nods curtly, her walls firmly back in place.

Nodding back, you send her a tense smile and leave.

Sevika is still cautiously detached, but you can see the tension, ever so slowly, dissipating with each day as she regains her strength.

Running your tongue over your dry lips, you rub your face in frustration and slowly traipse towards the horse stables. As you approach, the sound of raised voices catches your attention and your feet quicken into a run.

“Watch your tongue, boy.”

“Fuck. You. If you think that bitch dotin’ on you means anything, then-”

You burst into the stables, heart pounding. Sevika stands tall over John’s smaller figure, her fists clenched at her side. John's face is red with anger, a vein throbbing in his forehead.

"Hey." You hiss, rushing between them. "What the hell is goin' on?"

John sneers, pointing an accusing finger at Sevika. "This outsider thinks she can just waltz in here. She don't belong here!"

Sevika's eyes flash dangerously. "I don't want nothin' from you or this town. I'll be leaving as soon as I can."

You place a hand on Sevika's arm, feeling the tension in her muscles. "John. Back off."

John spits on the ground. "What?” He asks incredulously, before his tone shifts condescendingly. “Why? You too busy lickin’-”

With a fierce growl, you curl your hand into a tight fist and put all your weight behind it. The force of your punch meets the bridge of his nose with a loud crunch, causing his face to whip violently to the side. Undeterred, he quickly retaliates with a hit to your mouth.

Grunting through the pain, you launch yourself at him in a tackle. Straddling him, your knees pin his arms to the ground and you unleash a series of punches on his face. Each impact sends shockwaves of pain through both of you, but adrenaline fuels you.

Sevika stands to the side, silently watching you.

Moving back, you spit on the ground next to him. "You crazy fucking bitch!" John wails, his voice muffled by his hands.

You stand over him, your fist still clenched and shaking with anger. "Leave and don’t fuckin’ come back." You snarl.

John stumbles onto his feet, shooting both you and Sevika a venomous glare before stumbling out of the stable. As the sound of his footsteps fades, you turn to Sevika, your anger slowly dissipating.

"You alright?" You ask, eyeing her with concern.

Sevika’s face is an unreadable mask. "Didn't need your help.”

Scoffing out a laugh, you flex your aching hands. “Who said I was defendin’ you? He essentially called me a cock ridin’ bitch and it’s not the first time he’s mouthed off. Been dyin’ to get rid of that asshole.”

Sevika turns her head away from you, her silver eyes sparkling with amusement as she exhales. You feel the tension in your body release and a warmth spread through your chest at the sight of her smile, albeit small.

Her gaze roams over your figure as she licks her lips and tilts her head, studying you intently. A mischievous glint flashes in her silver eyes as she speaks. “Who woulda thought somethin’ so little and gentle like you, coulda put a grown man on his ass?”

Huffing out a tired laugh, you swipe a bead of blood from your lip. “Oh, I’m plenty gentle. But I’m rough when I need tah get the job done, baby.” A playful smile tugs at your lips as you glance at Sevika before dusting yourself off. “And I wouldn’t exactly call John a grown man.”

Sevika hides a smirk and nods towards the house, her voice teasing. “Guess it’s my turn to play nurse, huh?”

You nod, wincing as the adrenaline fades. “Fuck, I forgot how much that fucking hurts." Sevika's smirk widens as you shake out your hands, following you back to the house.

As you both make your way back to the house, you can't help but notice the way Sevika's eyes linger on you. There's a newfound respect in her gaze, mixed with something else you can't quite place.

Inside, Sevika starts rummaging through drawers for the first aid kit.

“Underneath the sink.” You perch on the edge of the table, watching her move and bend despite her own injury.

"Got it." She says gruffly, turning back to you with supplies in hand. She steps close, almost caging you against the table. Her body heat radiates against you as she examines your face. Her calloused fingers gently probe your swollen lip and you wince.

"Sorry." She mutters, her voice uncharacteristically soft. She begins cleaning the cut, her touch surprisingly gentle and you can’t help but stare at her as she works.

"You didn't have to do that." She murmurs, moving towards your bloodied knuckles.

You wince slightly at the sting. "Like I said, it wasn't just about you. John's had it comin' for a long time."

Grey eyes meet yours briefly before she silently nods. Swallowing, you ignore the flutter just below your navel and shakily speak. “Thank you.”

She pauses, her hand hovering in the air before slowly lowering it. Her lips part as she lifts her gaze, her breath catching slightly. You hold your own breath, watching as her eyes flicker to your lips before returning to meet yours.

A heavy warmth settles over your body as you feel the soft brush of her breath against your dry lips and you drop your eyes to her plush lips.

Her voice is low and husky as she responds. “Welcome.” Lowering her head towards yours, she starts closing the distance between your lips with agonizing slowness.

“What the hell happened!?!” The loud slam of the front door echoes through the house as your mother storms inside, her footsteps heavy and angry. You both instinctively move away from each other. Her touch still lingers on your skin and you feel your shoulders drop in disappointment.

Trying to compose yourself, you raise a hand to your mouth. You attempt to clear your throat, but only manage a small cough. "In here mama." Your voice breaks.

Your mother purses her lips when she sees you, before slowly approaching you. She looks tired, with dark circles under her eyes and lines of worry etched into her forehead. You avoid looking at either one of them as she grasps your chin and tilts your face towards hers. Sucking her teeth, she releases your chin and picks up your hand, roughly brushing her thumb over your bruised knuckles.

A sharp pain shoots through your hand and you instinctively pull it back. “Oww. What the hell mama?” You cry out in surprise.

Stepping back, your mother rubs her forehead in frustration. “What happened?” She asks, her voice laced with concern and disappointment.

Frowning at her, you speak defensively. “John was yellin all kinds a’ stuff and mouthin’ off. Was callin’ me names and stuff.”

Inhaling an angry breath, she closes her eyes. “You got into a fight with John cause he was callin’ you names?”

Smiling sarcastically, you shake your head. “Okay, well one, it wasn’t much of a fight. And two.” You glance at Sevika. “He called me a cum guzzlin whore. And a dick ridin’ cunt before he hit me. Was I not supposed to defend myself?” You ask, tone incredulous despite your embelishments.

Your mother's eyes widen in shock. She opens her mouth to speak but seems at a loss.

"This wasn’t the first time." Your mother finally manages, her voice strained at the statement. Sevika shifts closer to you, her eyes darting between you and your mother. "You should have come to me." She grits out.

You scoff, rolling your eyes. "And what would you have done, mama?"

Your mother's lips press into a thin line. "I would have believed you. I do believe you. I would have talked to him."

"I talked to him plenty." You retort, your voice rising. "Do you think that I can’t handle things myself?"

"That's not what I'm saying." Your mother insists firmly. “But you need to know what battles to fight and which to walk away from, especially if you’re gonna take over my ranch.”

You feel your anger rising, your face flushing with heat as your hands clench on the counter. “That’s all I’ve ever been prepared for. If I’m not ready, who’s fault do you think that is?”

Your mother's eyes narrow. “I should pop you in your goddamn mouth, girl. And that’s one fight you won’t ever be able to win.” Sevika tenses and your mother’s gaze flicks briefly to her before returning to you with heavy intensity.

Clenching your jaw, you send Sevika a look before taking a deep breath, visibly trying to calm yourself. “I’ve got everything from here, cowboy. Why don’t you head back to the bunkhouse and rest?”

Sevika ignores your mother’s annoyed glare, searching your face. “You sure?”

You feel a hint of comforting warmth break through the haze of anger and you nod with a small smile. “I’m sure, cowboy.” 

Nibbling on your lip, you narrow your eyes at her after a moment of contemplation. Keeping your eyes on your mother, you move to Sevika and lower your voice. "Rafter. Above Honey’s stall.”

Recognition flashes over her face and you send her a nod, backing away. “I’ll see you in the mornin’.”

Sevika sends your mother a dark look before leaving you both alone to sit in the stifling silence.

Feeling the anger return in full force, you can’t help the bitter comment that whips off your tongue. “Still think John’s good for me mama? I told you, I didn’t like him.”

Narrowing her eyes, she purses her lips in anger. “No. You ran away, like a child.” She takes a step closer. “You’re a grown woman, act like it.” She hisses.

“I ran away, because if I hadn’t, I would have told you that I didn’t want a life like yours. Pathetically, waiting on hand and foot for a man I don't love, much less like.” You send her a sharp smile. “I was walking away.” You match her tone, throwing her words back at her as you turn away.

With a loud groan, you forcefully throw your blanket off of you. Your tired eyes burn and water as you struggle to fully open them. Weary and disoriented, you slowly pull yourself up and begin to clumsily get ready in the dimly lit room.

The lingering anger from your argument rises as you leave your room. You let out a loud sigh as you take slow, heavy, steps down the creaky stairs. Passively aggressively, you hope you’ve made enough noise to wake her up.

As you reach the bottom of the stairs, you pause, listening for any signs of movement from your mother's room. Nothing.

With a mixture of relief and disappointment, you head towards the kitchen. You move mechanically, chugging a glass of water and snatching an apple from the countertop.

With a crisp crunch, you take a bite of your apple and step out onto the wooden porch. The cool morning air greets your skin, causing you to shiver slightly. Moths flutter around the porch light, their delicate wings beating against the warm glow. In the distance, crickets chirp in harmony.

Then. They don’t. The sounds of nature are replaced by an eerie silence that settles over the ranch.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you mutter under your breath. “What the fuck?” 

As you move closer, squinting your eyes in the darkness, you see it. A gap in the fence. Panic rises within you as growls and the sound of screeching animals fill the air.

The apple falls to the ground with a dull thump as you sprint back into the house. You take each step two at a time as you rush up to your mother's room. You burst through the door and with a flick of your wrist, you flip on the light. Flinging open the door to her closet, you push her clothes aside.

She jumps up with a gasp and screams. ”What the hell are you doin’!?!”

Ignoring her question, you grab the shotgun from its place and quickly load it with salt rounds.

"There's a hole in the fence." You explain urgently. “A pack got in. The dogs are holdin’ em off, but somethin’s wrong.”

Firmly gripping the gun, you rush out to the bunkhouse. Kicking open the door, you flip on the lights and shout. “Up, now! There’s a pack attackin’ the cattle.” They jump up and you don’t stay to watch them get ready.

Sprinting back out into the darkness, you deftly leap over the splintered remains of the fence, your gun raised.

The ranch dogs bark and snap at the snarling wolves surrounding them, but they are heavily outnumbered. The wolves’ ears are pressed flat against their heads, their hackles raised in anger. They refuse to back down, their eyes wild with hunger. Some are already stained with blood and bits of flesh hang from their gnarled mouths.

You take aim at the closest wolf and pull the trigger, unleashing a spray of salt rocks that hit its body with a loud crack. It flails in pain with a whimper, retreating slightly.

Heavy footfalls rush up behind you, but your eyes remain on the snarling animals. Taking aim again, you shoot, hitting another wolf. "What do you need me to do?" Sevika's voice echoes in your ear.

"You find those guns?" You grunt without taking your eyes off the advancing wolves.

“Yeah.” She responds gruffly.

Sighing with relief, you roll your shoulder. “Good. If they get too close, shoot.”

Closing in, you take careful aim and fire off shots at any that come within range. Sevika shoots a lunging wolf as the other ranch hands finally join you.

Gunfire and the sound of snarling wolves fills the air as you and the ranch hands fight to drive back the pack. Your ears ring from the constant barrage of shots, but you remain steady.

Sevika moves with surprising agility beside you, her own occasional shots ringing out. You catch glimpses of her in your peripheral vision - her face set in grim determination, silver eyes flashing in the darkness.

….

The chaos of the night fades as the sun begins to peek over the horizon. You stand amidst the aftermath, surveying the damage with a heavy heart. Several cattle lie motionless on the blood-stained grass, their bodies torn and mangled. The surviving herd huddles together, still trembling from the attack.

Your ranch hands move about, tending to the injured animals, disposing of the dead ones, and herding the frightened ones. The air is thick with the metallic scent of blood and the acrid smell of gunpowder.

Sevika approaches you, her face grim and spattered with dirt and blood. "How bad is it?" She asks, her voice low and gravelly.

You run a hand through your hair, your exhaustion and stress evident in every movement. "Could've been worse." You mutter. "Lost about four, maybe more. Won't know the full extent 'til we search the ranch and do a proper count".

Rubbing the crease between your brows, you sigh. “Fuck me, it’s too early for this shit.”

Striding over to one of the corpses, you bend down and carefully examine the dead cow. Its once plump and healthy body now lies lifeless on the ground, chunks missing and entrails spilling into the grass below.

“What’re you lookin’ for?” Sevika wrinkles her nose in disgust, covering it slightly with her hand.

Narrowing your eyes, you furrow your brow in concern. "Somethin' don't feel right." You mutter, clicking your tongue as you tilt your head. You inspect the blood that covers the cow's body, noticing how it has congealed into a thick, dark brown crust around the edges. “Does this look fresh to you?”

She shrugs indifferently. “I don’t know.”

Standing up straight, you use your boot to lift the cow's head, revealing a clean line on its neck. Closing your eyes briefly, you let out a seething sigh. “Shit.” You curse.

Running a hand over your weary face, you wince as your fingers brush against the cut on your lip. It stings and you can taste the metallic tang of blood as you stalk towards the broken fence.

Examining the damage with a deep frown, you turn to one of the ranch hands standing nearby. “Lay it on me, Arlo. What’d you find?” You say with a tense exhale.

“Well.” He begins, lifting his hat to scratch at his head. Flicking his nose, he points at the fence post with a calloused finger. “I don’t know of any axe-wieldin’ wolves, but it looks like the posts were hacked to shit and the railing planks were tossed.”

Raising your hand, you lightly trace the splintered wood of the fence post.

Wiping sweat from his forehead, he continues. “The gate’s bein’ worked on now. But whoever did this was pretty pissed.”

Nodding in agreement, you drop your hand and pat him on the shoulder with gratitude.

Stepping away from the fence, you shield your eyes from the harsh rays of the sun, peering up at the house. Your mother sits on the porch, her expression unreadable as she rocks back and forth in her chair. You release a tense breath and roll your shoulders. Deciding to retreat to the stables, you drop your hand and turn towards Sevika, silently gesturing for her to follow.

You both settle onto a bench and you prop up the shotgun against the wall beside you. Rubbing your hands on your thighs, you attempt to still them as they tremble with residual adrenaline.

"Nice thing to wake up to, ain’t it?" Sevika's gravelly voice breaks the silence.

You grunt in response, acknowledging her statement with a slight nod.

Sevika shifts, her thigh brushing yours as she leans back into the wall. “How you doin’?” Her silver eyes flick up to meet yours.

“I’m fine.” You reply curtly.

Immediately regretting your tone, you cringe inwardly. But Sevika simply chuckles lowly, a deep rumble that eases the tightness in your chest. “Yeah, alright. How’re your face and hands?”

“Care to take a closer look for yourself, cowboy?” The retort slips easily, too easily, from your lips and you immediately regret it. Your eyes dart around around nervously and you straighten, clearing your throat. “This is a fuckin’ mess. Wonder what happened.” Your tone is laced with sarcasm.

Sevika studies you for a moment as you avoid making eye contact. Eventually, she nods and clears her throat before leaning onto her knees, her thigh rubbing against yours. “John.” She huffs out.

You ignore the heat of her thigh and rest your head against the wall with a groan. “Can’t wait to have that conversation. Mama’s gonna be real great to talk to after yesterday.” Your words are dripping with cynism and frustration.

You close your eyes, letting out a long exhale. Sevika remains silent beside you, her presence oddly comforting.

After a few moments, you open your eyes and turn to face her. "He's always been a sore loser, but this is a new low. He couldn’t have made it more obvious. I mean, the timin's too convenient. Right after our fight, and the cattle… " You trail off, shaking your head.

Sevika's jaw clenches, her grey eyes tracing the angry lines etched on your face. The muscles in her jaw tense and flex as she speaks. "Why was he around for so long?"

You scowl, feeling a surge of fury rising in your chest. “You can thank my mama for that.” Your voice comes out low and harsh, your words dripping with bitterness. Rubbing your temples, you stand up from your seat.

"Well, I’m off to see the wizard." You try to inject some humor into your statement, but it falls flat in the tense atmosphere. "Wish me luck, cowboy." You lift the shotgun into your hands.

Sevika's eyes narrow dangerously, her gaze following you as you make your way towards the door. "If you need me." She says with a hint of worry. "I’ll be close by."

Sending her a grateful smile, you nod silently in farewell before making your exit.

Each step towards the house feels like trudging through quicksand, each one sapping more and more of your energy.

Your mother continues staring, expressionless, at the damage to the ranch as you step onto the porch. The old chair beneath her squeaks with each rocking movement.

Sitting down on the old wicker chair, it lets out a tired creak, matching your own exhausted sigh. You lay the gun across your lap, nervously picking at the skin around your fingers as your eyes dart back and forth between each worker on the ranch, their faces reflecting the same exhaustion that you feel.

"We still need to search the ranch but we know we lost four." You begin. "Three are injured, one went into labor early. But the rest are fine, just scared shitless." You pause, rubbing your burning eyes. “Gate and fence should be finished in the next few hours. George’s circlin’ the perimeter, lookin’ for any other damage and strays, and I’ll go back around later.”

Squeak… Squeak… Squeak…

You lean forward, resting your elbows on your knees and letting out another heavy sigh.

Rubbing your chin, you lick your lips and draw in a deep breath. “We both know who did this.” You squint into the distance with a frown.

Slowly turning to you, she finally responds, lifting a mocking eyebrow. “And what are you gonna do about that exactly?”

Your nose flares in anger and you clench your hands in restraint. “I’m not gonna sit here and do nothing. I have to do something. And I’m gonna start with finding him.” You hiss with a tense jaw.

With determination in your shoulders, you stand and walk towards the stables. The ground crunches under your boots as you make your way down the path. “Look at what happened the last time you did something.” She calls out behind you.

Your mother's words hit you, stopping you in your tracks. You whirl around, eyes blazing with anger and hurt. 

"What happened last time?” You say, your voice high with disbelief. “You mean when I defended myself against that asshole? When I stood up for myself like you never did?"

She rises from her chair, her own eyes flashing. "I'm talkin' about you pickin' fights you can't win. Look what it's cost us already!"

"Cost us?" You spit back. "This ain't on me, mama. This is on John, and on you for bringin' him 'round here in the first place!"

Your mother's face hardens. "Watch your tone, girl. I'm still your mama."

"Then act like it!" You shout, your voice cracking with emotion. You roughly tap your chest. "For once, just fucking once, take my side!"

You don't wait for her response, spinning on your heel. Spotting George’s approaching group, you redirect towards him.

As he begins to dismount, you raise a hand. “Hold on. Tell me what you found first.”

Leaning forward on his saddle, he readjusts himself before answering. “Someone clipped the barbed wire in two spots. We’ve already patched ‘em up. Found three more dead cows."

The relentless sun beats down on your back, causing a bead of sweat to trickle down your spine. You nod, squinting up at George. “I need you and whoever else you pick to pay a visit to Mama John. If her son’s there, bring him here. If he’s not, question her.”

You turn towards the stables and Nora calls out to you. “Think it was John, boss?”

You scoff, not pausing in your strides. “I don’t think. I know.“

As you approach, you see Sevika leaning against the stable door, arms crossed over her chest. Her silver eyes meet yours, a question in their depths.

"I'm goin' after him." You say before she can ask. "You comin'?"

A ghost of a smile flits across Sevika's face and she pushes off of the door. "Lead the way angel."

You give a grateful nod, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. "Thanks for havin' my back out there." You squeeze her arm as you brush past her.

As you saddle up Honey, you sneak a glance at Sevika and see her shrug nonchalantly, her face giving away little. "Didn't do much." She says in a cool tone.

"You did plenty. Quick on the draw, even with that boo-boo of yours." You insist softly, trying to convey your sincerity. "I'm glad you were there.”

Pausing on the buckles of the saddle, you lock eyes with her. “That you’re here." You say with emphasis.

That emotion you can't place flickers over Sevika's face again. She clears her throat and jumps onto her stallions back. "So, where’re we headin’?"

As you lick your dry lips, your gaze drifts down before returning to Sevika. You mount your horse with a grunt. “Doesn’t have much family, but his mama’s got a house on the edge of town. I sent a pair of ‘em that way.” You nod towards one of the dusty roads before heading in the opposite direction. “We’ll split off. Head to the general store.” 

Raising an eyebrow, she follows closely behind you. The streets are lined with wooden buildings, some showing signs of wear and tear while others gleam with fresh paint. As you pass by, heads turn to watch your arrival, their nosy eyes hungrily biting into your skin. But you pay them no mind, focusing instead on the path to the general store.

Sevika meets every invasive gaze with a glare, and tilts her head at you in curiosity. “The owner a gossip?”

Puffing out an amused breath, you shake your head. “Nah, but I’ll be sure to call him that to piss him off sometime.”

Finally, you reach the center of town. The wooden structure looms ahead, its creaky sign swinging gently in the breeze.

You can hear the whispers from curious onlookers as you guide Honey to a stop in front of the building. Dismounting, you tie Honey’s reigns to the railing and wait for Sevika.

As she slides off her horse, you lean in close and lower your voice. "Don’t mind him if he starts teasin’. He’s harmeless."

Sevika nods, her eyes scanning the street warily. "And if he isn’t?"

You shrug, pushing open the creaky wooden door. "He is."

As you both enter the store, a bell chimes softly overhead. The air inside is cool and musty, a welcome relief from the scorching heat outside. Shelves lined with various goods stretch from floor to ceiling, creating narrow aisles throughout the space.

A heavyset man with prominent mutton chops looks up expectantly from behind the counter, his eyes lingering on Sevika. "Was wondering when you’d show up." He drawls, setting aside the ledger he was writing in.

You approach the counter, your boots creaking against the wooden floorboards. "You seen John?"

His bushy eyebrows furrow downward in sympathy. "Hate to tell you this, kid." He pauses, glancing over your shoulder at Sevika. “But he’s gone. ”

Your heart drops and you shake your head in disbelief. “What d’you mean he’s gone?”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose wearily with a meaty hand, he sighs deeply. “I mean, he's gone. He left.” Raising his head, he nods towards the back of the shop. “The boy spotted ‘im high-tailin’ it out of town on horseback at sunrise.”

Your heart sinks as you realize how you just barely missed him. Sevika’s monotoned voice helps ground you slightly. “Any guess on how far he could be? Where he’d go?”

He shakes his head, with an apologetic smile. “I don’t. But I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

“Thank you Benzo. I appreciate it, like always.” You reply dejectedly.

He gives a slight nod in return. “Course, kid. M’ sorry I couldn’t have been more help.”

You knock a bruised knuckle against the counter in frustration before shaking your head. “You were plenty help. It’s just not anythin’ I wanted to hear.”

Sending him a terse, but grateful smile, you both leave.

Next Part

[monstacheol]

𝓖𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮𝓻/𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓵! 𝓢𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓸𝓵

This is from the poll I did and I am still working on my 400 followers celebration (I know it's taking me so long but it's coming. I promise.) And THIS. This has been on my mind and I thought it was interesting idea in my head so why not. This may or may not be a full length fic in the upcoming future. But enjoy, like, comment and reblog for support and improvement. (This is not proof read and kinda post out of a whism)

𝓖𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮𝓻/𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓵! 𝓢𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓸𝓵 was the one their mothers told their daughters to stay away from and their fathers told their sons to avoid.

𝓖𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮𝓻/𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓵! 𝓢𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓸𝓵, the person who doesn't fit in by the standards of the neat little square lifestyle. With his leather jacket smelling of oil and smoke from the garage and a hint of something sweet: cherries.

𝓖𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮𝓻/𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓵! 𝓢𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓸𝓵, who carried a reputation and would run his fingers through his dark hair, a cigarette hidden behind his ear and his knuckles bruised from a fight that didn't start—but damn well finished it.

𝓖𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮𝓻/𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓵! 𝓢𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓸𝓵, whom you met one summer as you returned from college for summer break.

𝓖𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮𝓻/𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓵! 𝓢𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓸𝓵, who saw you at the dance hall with your friend and immediately caught your eye with his charming smile and dashing good looks.

𝓖𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮𝓻/𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓵! 𝓢𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓸𝓵, who, after watching you for what seemed like an eternity, couldn't resist speaking to you after seeing you outside.

"I've never seen you in town before. New in town."

"No," you simply answered. "I'm just home from college for the summer."

"Ah." He took a drag of his cigarette. "College girl, huh?"

𝓖𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮𝓻/𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓵! 𝓢𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓸𝓵, a dim grim on his face, daredly leaning in closely, keeps the conversation going. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"Huh," you mumble. "I-It's Y/N."

𝓖𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮𝓻/𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓵! 𝓢𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓸𝓵, who repeats your name, savors the sound of it like it is the sweetest thing ever. "Y/N. Cute. Nice to meet you. I'm Seungcheol."

𝓖𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮𝓻/𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓵! 𝓢𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓸𝓵, whose gaze never left you, enjoyed the effect he had on you as he leaned on his bike and smoked his cigarette.

𝓖𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮𝓻/𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓵! 𝓢𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓸𝓵 Who saw you getting ready to leave after your friend rushed home to not miss curfew and said, "See you around, doll"

And see him around, you did.

𝓖𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮𝓻/𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓵! 𝓢𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓸𝓵, who you have met and run into over the past week after knowing each other. First it was the state fair, then going out to a diner, and even the drive-in.

𝓖𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮𝓻/𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓵! 𝓢𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓸𝓵, who will take you in his 1955 Cherry Red Chevy Bel-Air and drive around listening to the rock n roll of Elvis or Jazz of Billie Holiday.

𝓖𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮𝓻/𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓵! 𝓢𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓸𝓵, who got to hear your thoughts, your dreams, everything that you wanted to do in life, and loved how passionate you were about them. And would look at you with so much admiration, like you were the brightest star in the sky.

𝓖𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮𝓻/𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓵! 𝓢𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓸𝓵, whom you shared your first kiss with during the movie drive-in.

𝓖𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮𝓻/𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓵! 𝓢𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓸𝓵, who didn't believe in forever and didn't think it was meant for him—but that all changed when he met you.

𝓖𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮𝓻/𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓵! 𝓢𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓸𝓵, who would give you anything and everything if he could just see that sweet smile on that pretty little face.

𝓖𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮𝓻/𝓡𝓮𝓫𝓮𝓵! 𝓢𝓮𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓸𝓵, who promises to make this summer worth your while.

[mehwmidklpe]

A DEMI-WHAT NOW??

Percy Jackson x Mortal!Gf

A DEMI-WHAT NOW?? PART 2

(I don't like this one tbh, but I needed to post smth for Percy so...)

You might just be the only teenager to be glad when the summer vacation is over.

Whenever summer vacation arrived, Percy Jackson left.

Why?

Wouldn't be much of a question, almost everyone goes to a different location for the summer.

Only his mother never went with him, his steph-dad didn't either.

But it's okay cause his mom told you he goes to summer camp every year.

That does not explain the weird behavior or the dissapearing he often does.

Like a few years ago he was gone for the entire winter break, leaving you on delivered, voicemail and worried.

Anyway, that doesn't matter considering it's not summer right now which means Percy is in Manhattan with you.

You were laying on his bed together. His parents were out of town, so you were all alone.

It was nice, being with Percy, talking about anything and nothing at all. Both of you had two smiles on your lips as you lied next to each other.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?" Percy was absolutely whipped for you. He always showed it in some way.

Words, glances, touches, kisses

You hummed contently. "Normally I'd slap you." You started. "I know." Percy smiled. "But I'm just happy to be with you right now." You continued, scooting closer to him.

"Me too." He agreed with made you smile. "I love you." "I love you too." The way he said it made you feel like melting.

As if anything else anyone else had ever told you in your entire life was a complete lie.

As if Percy Jackson's love for you was the only truth.

You nudged his nose with yours, the smiles on your lips never leaving as you leaned in. Your gaze on his beautiful eyes that reminded you of the ocean.

Then just as you were about to kiss, Percy sat up.

A frown formed itself on your forehead at his sudden action. "Percy? You okay?" You question. The boy took a breath. "Uhm.. Wise Girl.. Maybe–maybe you should go home. I'll call you."

Wait what?

"What? But why? I thought–" "Don't take this personal. Please. I love you, I do, you know that. You just... you should really go." It was like he was in a rush, trying to get you out as soon as possible.

What was that about?

"Percy what's going on–" A loud smash interrupted you and before you could process it some weird, un-humanly figure stood into your boyfriend's room.

"Perseus Jackson."

Why the heck did that thing just call him Perseus?

Your boyfriend is not the demigod who cut off Medusa's head.

"Percy." You repeated, backing away from the weird looking creature. "I told you to leave." He said, although he didn't sound mad. More like worried.

He stood infront of you, his arm keeping you behind him, his other hand reaching into his pocket to pull out a pen.

You gulped. "What is a pen gonna d–Oh my God." Your lips parted as you saw the pen turn into a bronze sword. 

Before you knew it, your boyfriend was fighting the monster. The way he was fighting gave away that he had done it tons of times before cause dam he was good.

You'd be drooling over him right now if your life wasn't in danger.

The room was a mess by now, everything was ruined, and all you could do was watch how Percy fought that ugly thing. 

Only you couldn't stand it anymore. So you grabbed the sharpest thing you could find in te room, and before the ugly ass could hurt Percy, you attacked.

Before you knew it all that was left was dust. The monster was gone.

You were panting as you and Percy ust stood there, frozen in place.

"What. the heck. was that?" 

"What do you mean 'Camp Halfblood'?"

Percy had sat down with you, trying to explain where the monster came from, where he went every summer, that kinda stuff.

"It's a camp for halfblood's like me." Percy says to you. "Since when are you a halfblood? halfbloods are people with two different ethnicities. You're American." You frown at which he shook his head. "Not like that."

"Y/n.." He took your soft hands into his.

"I'm a demigod."

Your eyes widened. "A demi-what now??"

"You know what I mean, you've studied about Greek mythology." He says to you. "You're not–" "My dad's Poseidon."

Your hands slipped out of his as you stand up. "You're insane." You state. "Y/n." He tried but you stepped back. 

"No. You're here trying to tell me that you've been going to this weird camp, fighting monsters, stopping and fighting in wars, talking to animals and gods, flying on a flying boat and a machine dragon for the past 6 years and you think I'm gonna believe you??" You spat at him.

Percy felt his heart ache. "You don't.. you don't believe me?" 

"Of course I don't believe you. Do you know how crazy all that sounds? You expect me to believe that you're a god, named after some other half god, you have water powers, can breath underwater and talk to horses and sea animals?" Yes, it absolutely sounded insane.

The boy gulped. "I can–I can prove it to you." He turned to the glass of water that stood at his nightstand, and before you knew it, the water was flying around. This isn't real..

"I–No. No. I must be dreaming. This is, this is fake right?"

"Trust me, I wish it was, I do. But it's not Y/n. My father is Poseidon, I am a demigod, I've been trough wars, I have been in hell. Literally. I've seen so many bad things, and the only thing keeping me tied together is you. I lost so many friends. Bianca, Zoë, Lee, Castor, Micheal, Luke, Silena, Beckendorf, Ethan when he finally chose the right side, Jason, Festus, Leo.. Leo was the only one who came back, thank the gods for that, but I lost everyone else. I can't lose you too!"

You just stood there, listening to everything he's been trough, and it probably wasn't even half of it. Never have you ever seen him like this before. But it hurt It really did.

Without saying anything, you stepped forward and pulled him inot you. A warm hug, hand on the back of his head. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I believe you, I do. You don't deserve all that Percy. You don't.."

Percy never realized just how much he needed this until he found himself holding you so, so tightly. "I don't wanna lose you too." He repeated.

"You won't, you won't. I'm not going anywhere." You soothe him. "It's just you and me, okay? No one's gonna take that away."

And in that moment, Percy believed you.

Cause right now you were all he needed.

[emeraldserenade]

Hello! Could you write a fic about Joaquín’s girlfriend getting jealous and a little upset about a female Avenger (whoever is fine) getting too close and flirty at a work event and it being reported on/posted on social media? 🫶🏾 thank you! ☺️

Misunderstandings ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: pictures of Joaquín and Yelena huddled together get published while you're at work

tw: fem!reader, limited use of y/n, none?, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

I am so sorry for the long wait, but I hope this is what you wanted.

➽──────────────❥

You knew Yelena Belova meant no harm, that the pictures were taken out of context. Yet, you couldn't help but feel that sting of jealousy when you saw the paparazzi pictures of her and Joaquín huddled together and smiling. You hadn't seen him since the photos came out, he was at work and you were at yours. It wouldn't take long for him to get there, granted that would mean he saw the photos. You wouldn't put it pass him to ignore his phone blowing up unless he thought it was you.

"Y/n?" Simon, your boss, called for you. You walked into the back of the store to his office as he called you over.

"Yes, Mr. Gil?" You leaned against the wall, you knew weren't in trouble.

"I wanted to ask if you were ok, my granddaughter sent me those photos of your boyfriend and the blonde," Simon questioned and you nodded.

"I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding," you informed him.

"Y/n, you're basically my granddaughter. Please do no lie to me," he leveled you with a look that can only be mastered after years of practice.

"I'm ok, I promise," you nodded.

"Either way, you're going home. I already called in Maddie to take your place," he shoo'd you out and Maddie walked in. You waved at her as she said hi to her grandfather before grabbing your things and leaving.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You didn't go home right away, you decided to spend some time going around town. You got a drink from your favorite coffee shop and went to some of your favorite shops, you bought some clothes at the thrift shops. You've been ignoring your phone, sure it was just people asking about the photos since Joaquín would still be at work and most likely hadn't seen the photos. You finally made it home a few hours later, you parked your car in your usual spot and made your way up to the apartment.

If you had been paying more attention on the way up, you would have noticed the haphazard way Joaquín had parked his car, the multiple messages and calls from him, the way the decorations on your apartment door were slightly ajar. And if you were paying more attention on your way in, you would have heard the frantic whispers of Joaquín trying to call you for the hundredth time that day.

"Joaquín?" You put your bags down on the kitchen table when you saw him pacing the living room.

"Angel," he breathed out and rushed to you, pulling you into his arms.

"What are you doing home so early?" You questioned as you pulled back, you finally noticed the tears that were streaming down his face and quickly reached up to brush them away. "Why are you crying, my love?"

"I thought you were mad at me," he admitted, his hold shifting to your waist.

"I'm not mad, why would I be mad?"

"The pictures, I've been trying to contact you all day," he told you and you gave him a guilty look.

"Oh, I thought that was other people going to ask about the pictures. I didn't realize it was you and it didn't even cross my mind that it could have been you," you told him and you could see him finally relax. "Wait, why were you so close with Yelena?" You questioned and you saw Joaquín stiffed again. He shifted on his feet while mumbling something and you took a step back. "Joaquín?"

"It's not what you think!" He quickly told you once he realized that you were slowly moving away from him. "I just," he paused and glanced around before slowly reaching into his pocket. "I was showing her this," he held a small box in his hand and your eyes widened. He went to open it but you quickly put your hands over his.

"No, keep it closed," you rushed out. "I'll wait until whatever you have planned," you told him, pushing his hands down.

"You aren't mad?"

"I never was," you told him, smiling as he hugged you.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

make you mine 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, age gap, possible abuse, alcoholism, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your father is strict but his authority is challenged by the boy in town and the man at his door.

Characters: Arvin Russell, Lee Bodecker

Note: you know what, why shouldn't I?

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

You keep your head down as you near the store. That group of boys is smoking at the corner again, their stained white tees and dusty old flannel jackets smell of sawdust and oil. Your daddy always tells you not to talk to strange men and except for him, they're all strange. 

"Hey, doll, where you in a rush to?" One of them flicks a cigarette away as he breathe smoke behind you. 

You hurry up as he whistles, "yeah, walk faster, girl. Wiggle them hips." 

"Quiet," another hisses and you hear the heavy thump of a slap against his shoulder, "ain't no way to talk to a lady." 

Footsteps rush after you and before you can reach the door, it opens, the bell jangling above as one of the men pulls it back. You look at his boots, grimy, laces fraying, slouching around the ankles. His other hand dangles by his side, cap folded in his grip. 

"I'm really sorry about Jethro, miss, he's got a real nasty mouth," he says, "you alright?" 

You nod and say nothing as you continue inside. 

"You're scarin' her, Arv," another man calls over, "look at her shaking in her shoes." 

He sighs and lets the door close between you as he turns back to respond. His words are muffled as you take a basket and flit into an aisle. Mr. Canavan is behind the counter, flipping through a newspaper as the radio crackles. You pick out the few staples running low in your pantry and add on a bottle of rum for your pa. 

"Afternoon, miss," Canavan greets in his piggish snort. You return the sentiment as you wait for him to tally up your order. "How's your daddy?" 

"Good, good," you answer as you peek towards the window. The men cross the street and disperse, some still walking in pairs. 

"He got a thirst?" he comments on the bottle. 

"Doesn't he always?" You count out the money and hand it to him. 

"Yeah but he usually takes care of that down at Hal's." 

"Lost too much on the table last time," you shake your head as he gives you back the change. 

He packs up a paper bag and you thank him, sliding it off the counter. It's heavy and makes your shoulders ache. You shouldn't have waited so long. 

You push the door open with your hip and turn, nearly colliding with another. The same man chuckles as he puts a hand on your elbow to keep you from toppling. You bite your lip and his eyes fall to his touch, dropping his arm guiltily. 

"Sorry, miss," he says as he sweeps back a curly lock that droops down his forehead, putting his cap over his hair to hold it back, "didn't mean to scare ya." 

"It's fine," you nearly whisper. 

"I wanted to say sorry again for my friends, if I can call them that. They don't see ladies often and they forget their manners." 

"Really, it's okay," you insist with a squeak. 

"Nah, it isn't," he counters, "but I told 'em to leave you alone." 

"Oh, thank you," you look past him. 

There's a pause. Awkward as he digs his heel into the ground. He chuckles and rubs his hands together. 

"That looks heavy, can I help ya with that?" he asks. 

You look at your armful. You don't know if you should. Would he be mad if you say no? He hasn't been mean. 

"Just halfway," he offers, "not tryna creep on ya or nothing, I'll just walk you to your corner." 

You press your lips together. Your daddy wouldn't see him at the corner.  

"I really feel bad about those other jerks," he continues, "so least I can do is carry your groceries." 

"Okay," you utter. 

You stand stupidly as he grins at you. You catch a glimpse of his dark eyes and crooked smile before your eyes return to the ground. He gently reaches to shift the bag out of your arms and lifts it easily. He steps back and you feel his gaze hanging over you. 

"Which way am I goin?" he asks. 

"Oh, uh," you point past him. 

He turns and waits for you to come up beside him before he starts off. He's shorter than the others but his shoulders are broad. He's still got a couple inches on you, though he's much trimmer. You catch up and focus on keeping pace with him. 

"I'm Arvin," he says. 

"Um," you breathe and muster your name in return. 

"I like that. It's pretty. Hope you're husband wouldn't mind me sayin' so." 

"Husband? I'm not–" 

You stop at the corner as you wait for several cars to pass before crossing. A brown and white cruiser rolls past and you watch the bumper disappear down the next street. You continue on as Arvin kicks a pebble unwittingly. 

"Not married?" he finishes for you. 

"I live with my pa," you answer. 

"Course. You must be young then." 

"I'm grown," you insist.  

You hate how your daddy teases you in the same vein, especially when he has friends over. It felt worse coming from someone nearly your own age, or looks to be. 

"Ah, just wonderin'," he assures. 

You're quiet as you carry on. You know you shouldn't still be at home. Lots of girls in Knockemstiff marry before they finish school. You haven't even had a date, not a kiss, or a look in your direction. 

"Just up here," you point to the next corner. 

He nods and carries on, stopping at the end of the street as he turns to you, "you sure I can't walk you all the way?" 

"My pa wouldn't like that." 

"He loves you, huh?" 

"He's my pa," you shrug and reach for the bag. He hands it over reluctantly. 

"I hope I see ya around. I work down at the mill. For Mr. Haroldson. Case you're wonderin' where to find me." 

"Thanks," you hug the groceries. 

He gives a tight-lipped smile. Disappointment twitches in his cheek. 

"See ya ‘round then." 

"Maybe," you answer as you turn away. 

You continue down your street. Halfway, you look back. Still watching you, he waves and slowly walks back the way you came. You spin back along the old country road, houses speckled over flat fields. You pass the rusty old brown truck at the edge of your pa's property, the sheriff's cruiser parked closer to the shed. 

You didn't expect company tonight. It must've been the same cruiser you saw at the corner. Your dread bubbles up but you quickly tamp it down. The sheriff always makes you nervous. He's talkative and you're... not. 

As you go inside, you hear your pa grumbling. You put down the groceries as the screen door clatters and take off your tweed jacket. You hang it as you step out of your boots. 

"You know we miss you down at the station," Bodecker's voice nears as his footsteps lurk, "there she is." 

Before you can retrieve your haul, he has it in his arms, "how ya doin', baby girl?" 

His usual pet name makes you squirm. Your pa says it's just him being nice. You never say anything against it. 

"I got it–" 

You try to take the bag but he holds it away from you. 

"Nah, what kinda man would I be, let alone a sheriff, if I didn't help a lady?" 

He winks and turns away from you, leading you past the doorway of the front room. You peer over at your father as he scowls and gulps from a can of beer. The sheriff likely brought the appeasing six pack to ease his presence. 

"What's for dinner tonight?" Bodecker asks as he puts the bag on the counter, peering inside. 

"I'm making a meat pie," you explain as you go to the fridge, "be more than enough for company, if you like?" 

"Now, how'd such a sweet thing like you come from that old coot?" He smirks over as you take out the beef wrapped in brown paper. 

You shrug and take the cutting board from against the wall. He doesn't move as you set up around him. You hate how his eyes follow you. Every time he's around. 

"You don't gotta work?" You ask as you reach for the bag. He pushes it towards you as he steps closer, looming over you. 

"I'm off duty for the night. Think I might indulge with your daddy," he reaches into the bag, his belly brushing your elbow as he lifts out the rum, "good brand." 

"Pa likes it," you step away as you search the cupboard. 

"You're old enough, you could join us after dinner–" 

"I don't like the taste and my pa don't want me drinking," you kneel to pull a pan out from the drawer. 

"Good habit not to take up," he clunks the bottle on the counter and rests his hand on the neck, "that boy you were walkin' with, he your friend?" 

"Boy? No, he was being helpful is all." 

"Was he, now?" He comes closer as you stand, "I know that boy, he ain't helpful." 

You glance at him. His blue eyes cling to you and you don't miss how they wander to the top of your blouse. You put the pan down and turn to grab your apron.  

He comes up behind you and takes the string, tying them tight as you wince in surprise. 

"Well, you're young. I'm sure you're fixing to find a husband soon. I'm just lookin' out for you." 

"I'm not looking for a husband," you draw away from him, "thank you, sheriff." 

"Well, your daddy won't live forever. Who's gonna take care of you, then?" 

You face him and frown, "I don't wanna think about that, sheriff, and I got dinner to make." 

"I'm sorry, baby girl, I worry about you. How long have I known you? I can't help it." 

"Thank you, sheriff, for worrying, but I'll be just fine." 

He tilts his head, bemusement sparkles in his vibrant irises, "I'm sure ya will be, baby girl… very fine." 

He sidles away and you return to the counter, pulling a knife from the block. The sooner dinner's on the table, the sooner you can go hide. 

🍽️

You clear your plate first, dinner’s made less appetizing by the sheriff and his leer. Your father doesn't help as he drinks more than he talks and you're left to entertain Lee's comments about your cooking and the same blouse he'd seen you in a dozen times. 

As you stand, the sheriff slurps from his beer and watches you. His lips shine as he puts the can down and smirks, "baby girl, you mind gettin' me the ketchup?" 

You swallow and nod, "certainly, sheriff." 

You turn and carry your plate into the kitchen, clunking it down on the counter before pulling open the fridge. You take the glass bottle of Heinz and return to the dining room to set it down.  

"Pa, you need anything?" 

"Dammit, Marcy, leave me be. I told ya… patrol's been busy," he waves his hand at you dismissively, your mother's name giving you pause. Lee hesitates as he twists off the metal lid. 

"I… pa, I…" 

"Is this what you're gon' do? Pester me?" Your daddy slurs, "'cause what? She was only being nice, ya know? I was too, I couldn't say no–" 

"Jack," Lee reaches over and pats your father's arm with his knuckles, "ain't there a game on soon? That old radio still work?" 

Your father blinks drunkenly and scowls. He shakes his head and hiccups, swearing as he tries to drink from his empty can. He tosses it so it bounces off the edge of the table. 

"Course it does," he sneers. 

"You got twenty on the home team?" Lee goads, "I should lock ya up for gambling." 

"Ah shut up," your father glowers into a dark chuckle, "it's you that's gon pay me fifty anyhow. Can't lock a man up for winning." 

"Ah sure, Jack," Lee stands and claps your father's shoulder, "come on. We’re missing the first." 

You don’t miss how the sheriff shifts his grip and lurches your father out of his chair. He gives him a nudge toward the front room and glances back at you. You should be grateful for the redirection, yet the leer in his eyes only makes you nervous. You know he’ll be wanting thanks for that for a long time to come. 

“How about you bring some of that rum out with dessert?” Lee smirks as he follows your father towards the den. 

You don’t mention that you didn’t have anything planned for dessert. He doesn’t wait for you to say so. He chuckles and teases your dad again about the wager. 

You’ll have to come up with something. You might be able to spare enough for cream puffs. Those were always ma’s specialty. 

[megwritesriddles]

A Few Strings Attached ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Sam (Stardew Valley) x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: Request: I saw your post about requests, and I love your sdv stuff! Could you maybe do something with the reader and Sam being fwb. Sam gets super jealous when she hangs out/starts getting close with one of the others, leading to him confessing the next time they have sex. If you wanted to have him be a little rougher with the reader, that'd be cool to, just whatever you're comfy with ^-^ tysm!!

Tags: Friends-with-benefits, P in V, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Nipple play (minor), Biting, Rough sex, Jealousy, Moody!Sam, Love confession, Possessive behaviour (slight).

Word count: 2.5k

all fandom masterlist | sdv masterlist | read it on ao3

Authors note: This may seem like it starts in the middle, because it DOES!! I wrote too much unnecessary exposition like always so I'm posting it as an optional 'prequel' to read. There's a few weird text formatting things going on that I can't fix but oh well!! Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

'PREQUEL' HERE !! (you don't have to read it but if you do, prob read it first, it's only 1.3k words)

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

He’s late arriving at the Saloon one Friday for your weekly hangout, a time to enjoy the ‘friends’ part of friends-with-benefits with you and relax with the people he’s closest to. The new riff he’d written on his guitar had kept him busy and he’d lost track of time. When he arrives at the Saloon and heads to the side room to find his friends, he freezes a little at the sight before him. Sure, you and Sebastian had started talking more lately, he’d noticed, but Sam was confident he had you to himself and had no reason to worry. He barely thought of anything but you each day since starting the arrangement, and as you seemed to enjoy the sex as much as he did, he assumed you would be the same. Sebastian had ceased to be any sort of a threat in his mind, until now. The two of you stood at the end of the pool table, way too close together for Sam’s comfort, talking and giggling, nudging each other with your elbows. Sam just stared for a moment as the two of you clearly made jokes back and forth, giggling and swatting each other. What could the two of you possibly have to giggle about? You didn’t have anything much in common… Did you? Sam tried to think but came up blank, yet something was clearly very funny to the two of you. Trying to control the irrational urge inside of him to rush over and stake some claim over you, he took a deep breath and wandered over.

“Hey guys, having fun without me?” he teases, although his voice is just a little tense enough to give him away. He doesn’t think of himself as the jealous type, and really you weren’t his to get jealous over, but the burning of his cheeks tells him exactly how he feels. He wants to wrap an arm around you and pull you in, bite your neck in the way that he knows you love right in front of Sebastian and actually leave a mark this time.

“Hey Sammy, had to entertain ourselves somehow while you weren’t here,” you tease, your voice and expression sweet, unaware that Sam is seething with jealousy. Is this what you’d do if he went out of town for a while or something? Find a way to ‘entertain’ yourself? Turn to Sebastian? His face falls without him being able to help it.

“Right,” he grunts, staring at you intently. You tilt your head at him, finally noticing something is wrong. Sam is seldom moody, he’s always outgoing and happy-go-lucky, so seeing his face twisted into a sour expression is disconcerting. 

“Is something wrong Sammy?” you ask gently. “Why were you late?” you clearly assume whatever made him late is what has him upset. Are you really that naive? He glances contemptuously at Sebastian who is still at your side, looking similarly concerned. 

“I’m just tired, honestly I’m gonna go home, you’ll have more fun without me bringing you down,” he grumbles, turning to leave. He knows he shouldn’t be acting like this, you’re both his friends. Friends. And it wasn’t like he caught you kissing Sebastian, just laughing with him, but the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach persists. The two of you and even Abigail protest, saying he’ll feel better after a round of pool, but he’s made up his mind, he cannot watch this. If you want Sebastian, who is he to stand in your way? As long as he doesn’t have to see it play out. He stomps back to his house, listening out in case you’ve come chasing after him, but you haven’t, taking him at face value and assuming something had happened at home to upset him. Admittedly, he does feel a little stupid returning home mere minutes after he left, and considers turning back around, but can’t bring himself to. Hiding away in his room sounds best right now. He waits quietly in his bed, glaring up at the ceiling, expecting that you might knock on his window, but you don’t. It pains him to imagine what you might be doing instead. Could Sebastian please you as well as he could? How was he to know? You might be forgetting all about him at this very instant. He comforts his male pride by convincing himself that Sebastian is probably a disappointing size compared to him, even though he has no evidence of this. Then when he realises what he’s thinking, he feels wildly ashamed. Sebastian was his closest and oldest friend here. Wasn’t the whole point of this arrangement for things not to be complicated? His thoughts had never been so muddled. After another half hour, he concludes you aren’t coming to knock on his window, and turns himself over to sleep.

The next day, although he tells himself he won’t, he’s drawn to walk to your farm at his usual time. He’s a little worried about what might be waiting for him. He imagines Sebastian embracing you from behind as you bake, something he’s always wanted to do, as he often arrives just as you finish baking and is sent home with some fresh rolls. He knocks on your door and you open it like usual, smiling brightly. 

“Hey Sa– ooh,” a puff of air leaves your lungs as he pounces on you, pushing you to the wall of your entryway. You give him a bewildered look as he tilts your chin from side to side, examining your neck for any marks. “What are you doing?” you chuckle, but he doesn’t answer, examining a tiny dent in your skin that resembles a bite. Was that the same one he’d left on you a few days ago? Beyond hope, he hoped it was. “Sam?” He pulls back and looks at you, examining your face as if something in your expression would give away if you’d done something with Sebastian. “What are you looking for?” you scoff. He knows he’s being unreasonable, so he falters a little.

“Nothing…” he huffs, looking away, though his hands remain on your waist, thumbs rubbing gentle circles. You laugh softly and it sends a jolt through him, reminding him of the scene last night. He slams his lips to yours to shut you up, causing you to squeak in surprise for a moment, but quickly relax, slipping your arms around his neck just in time for him to hoist you up and carry you to your bed. Your lips remain connected, moulding together and tongues finding one another as he walks you over. He’s determined to make you forget everything but his name. The bed dips as he climbs on, lowering you to lie beneath him, wasting no time in sliding his hands beneath your shirt to push it up. You giggle at his sudden dominant attitude, but you don’t mind at all, lifting your arms so that he can free you of your shirt. “No bra…” he purrs. “Expecting someone?” His voice is rough enough to give you a little pause, but his hands dancing all over your bare skin don’t allow your brain to pause for long. His thumbs circle your nipples, causing them to stiffen into peaks.

“You, of course,” you sigh as he lowers his head, wrapping his warm lips around one rosy bud and swirling his tongue, gently rolling the other between his fingers. A gentle moan leaves your lips and he flicks his tongue back and forth. 

“Me,” he mumbles against your skin, slowly kissing his way from one nipple to the other, before taking it in his mouth and repeating the swirling action you so liked. 

“Mhmm,” you whine as he carefully brushes his teeth against your sensitive skin. He doesn’t bite but just teases you enough for goosebumps to rise on your skin, the cool air meeting the wet kisses over your chest adding to your shivers. His hands cup the weight of your breasts, his mouth swapping between your nipples periodically just to tease you, hardness rubbing against your inner thigh. You squirm, trying to shift so Sam’s bulge would press where you need it to. He growls, slamming his hips to yours and harshly rutting against you. Your head tips back and you moan, much to his private delight.

“You want me, don’t you? Tell me you want me not Sebastian,” he hisses, biting his way over the swell of your breast and up to your neck. 

“What–? What does Sebas–,”

“Just say it, tell me you want me,” he demands. Your mind is hazy with arousal, but even so, you know something is incredibly odd with this ask. At your silence, he ruts against you once more, spurring you into action.

“I want you, I want you, only you…” you whine, wriggling against him softly. Full of pride, he bites down on your neck, sucking a harsh mark into your skin. Another squeak leaves you, surprised by this, he doesn’t usually mark you, it defeats the purpose of hooking up in secret, but before you can protest, he’s tugging down your leggings and rubbing his fingers through your slick folds, melting all of your thoughts away until you’re left with only his touch against you. Your hips chase his fingers as he playfully withdraws them, enjoying watching how needy you are. He isn’t usually so teasing, but his ego needs stroking right now, as does something else. He sucks his fingers clean with a groan and drops them back down to resume rubbing. The sensation has you whining and squirming and he enjoys it whole-heartedly, guiding your hand to his bulge as he dips his fingers inside of you, stretching you open. Ever generous, you immediately begin to stroke him through his jeans, even despite being a little distracted. It’s a fumble for you to undo his jeans when your eyes are glued to where his fingers are disappearing inside of you, but eventually, you manage. He snatches your hand before you can try to dip it in his boxers.

“No, I want to fuck you,” he growls, making you moan, looking up at him starry-eyed. You want it too, but words escape as his fingers drive as deep as they can go into you before quickly withdrawing completely. The empty feeling makes you whine, but you don’t have to worry for long. He sucks his fingers clean again, making sure he doesn’t miss a drop and then strips himself down to the buff, kicking off his jeans. He always enjoys the way you admire his body, but today it feels especially favourable. He admires you in turn, dripping wet and perfectly sexy, the perfect body laid out in front of him, belonging to the perfect person. Something regrettable threatens to slip out of his mouth, so he bites his lip and settles right between your legs, placing his heavy cock against you, and gently tapping your clit with it a few times. You whine and wriggle, giving him your best wide-eyed plea, he loves it when you get like this. Out of a hint of misplaced lingering spite, he grinds his cock between your folds a few times, not yet pressing inside like you want, getting the both of you wetter and wetter. It would be torture for him too if it wasn’t for the look on your face. “Pretty perfect girl…” he hums as you whimper for him. You’re too aroused to notice the seriousness of those words, he usually only calls you hot or sexy. 

Finally, at long last, he grabs the base of his cock and angles himself so he can push inside of you. He buries himself to the hilt immediately, revelling in the choked-out gasp that leaves your lips. He takes a grip on your hips and, after a few gentle thrusts to assess if you can take it, he begins pounding into you. Your eyes roll back and you shout out in pleasure and he feels much the same way. His eyes roll a little and he growls, holding you down as his hips slam into yours over and over. You’re so tight and warm and perfect. He pants, staring down at you, flushed and blissed out, your tits bouncing with each ruthless thrust. You take him so well, you look so beautiful, even now. He leans down to kiss you, your noses bumping as he bullies his cock into you, tongues making a sloppy mess together. You’re so perfect, nothing has ever felt this good, he refuses the idea that someone else might take this from him. With a loud grunt, his pace increases impossibly more, forcing loud wanton moans from your throat with each movement.

“You’re mine,” he pants, a hand coming up to grip your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You’re mine, say it,”

“I’m yours,” your fucked-out mind doesn’t understand the gravity of what he’s saying, merely obeying orders so your orgasm isn’t stolen from you. Your words make him groan and lift your legs, thrusting into you at a new angle. You cry out in pleasure.

“You’re mine, say it, say my name,” he growls.

“Sam…” you whine, unable to form a coherent thought.

“That’s it, my perfect girl, I–” he cuts himself off, stuttering and twitching deep within you. “Ah–, I’m close, please…” he ruts himself against you a few more times, the pleasure completely clouding his brain. “I- I love you,” he grunts against your lips.

“Sam…!” you sob and it sends him over the edge, his thrusts slowly significantly as he shoots ropes of his cum deep inside of you.

“Fuck, I love you,” he chokes as he cums. “I love you so much…” he collapses on top of you but gives a few more weak thrusts into you as he feels your fingers frantically rubbing at your clit, helping you fall over that edge. He hisses when you do, feeling you squeeze down around his oversensitive cock, but he can’t bring himself to pull out. He lies there on top of you, one arm sliding behind your back to keep you pressed to him. His eyes fall shut and he takes a deep breath, completely satisfied. 

“You love me?” your weak voice squeaks from beneath him and he suddenly realises what he’s said, what he said throughout what you just did. He could probably pass it off as a weird kink, or just getting lost in the moment, but as he looks down at your flushed confused face, he can’t lie.

“Y-yeah I uh… I guess I do,” he grins sheepishly, back to his old self now he got the insecure anger out of his system.

“And you… thought something was going on with me and Sebastian? That’s why you were being so odd?” you sluggishly piece the pieces together, struggling to think in your pleasured haze, but unable to ignore it. He nods. “Well, nothing is going on, I promise you, we’ve been talking more because I’m trying to get him to ask Abi out,” you chuckle tiredly. “Why would I want him when I have you?”

“My thoughts exactly,” Sam jokes, but is incredibly relieved to hear it. “And… the whole ‘me loving you’ thing, how do you feel about that?” he asks, gently wiping some sweat from your brow. 

“Well… I guess I love you too,”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

hey you! want to get tagged in my work when it comes out? click here! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

xoxoxo

[lostgirlmuseum]

Who the Hell is Daryl?

Summary: Bucky is in love with you, and finally finds the courage to tell you. But what happens when it sounds like someone else is already in the picture? (Miscommunication!)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Avenger!Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings: Miscommunication trope! Only one small mention of “Y/N”, teensy bit of yelling, let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: Wrote this a couple days ago and put it in drafts, spontaneously posted bc I'm procrastinating on an essay. Okay I'll get back to hw now :(

Dividers: @firefly-graphics

He was going to do it. He was really going to do it. 

He was finally going to ask you out.

-----

To the surprise of everyone on the team, you and Bucky had become fast pals after you joined six months ago. Something about the two of you clicked. ‘Opposites attract’ and all that, but Bucky always felt it went deeper than that.

The two of you had never argued, something he felt very proud of, considering he argued with most people. But not you. Never you.

The moment he decided that he needed to man up and ask you out wasn’t anything fancy. You were sparring with Wanda across the gym, and he was simply watching you work in tandem. He watched the entire 15 minute session, and didn’t take his eyes off you, even as you approached him. 

“Buck, I’m out of water, can I take a sip of yours?”

He nodded, “Sure, Doll,” and tossed you his bottle. 

You shot him a charming smile and opened the cap, and not-so-gracefully chugged half the bottle. You wiped your upper lip and handed it back to him. 

“Thanks, Jamie,” you breathily said, and jogged back to the arena. 

His head was completely empty except for a single thought, tumbling through his desert mind like a tumbleweed.

I’m going to marry her someday.

He shocked himself with the thought, he wasn’t sure where it had come from. But he couldn’t help the grin that snuck its way onto his lips as he realized he didn’t disagree with the thought.

Of course before marriage is dating. One step at a time Buck. 

After his realization, he had spent the next three days planning the perfect way to ask you out. He went through an entire list of ideas, but none of them seemed good enough for you. He wanted it to be perfect. But as the clock ticked on and he started running out of paper, he realized it was best to just be honest about his feelings. 

You had just gotten back from a solo mission, and Bucky was hanging out in your room as you showered.

He was blushing like an idiot and fidgeting like crazy on your bed as he waited for you to hurry up. It was surprising he had so much self control as to not blurt it out while you were showering.

“Oh, Bucky,” you called from the bathroom, the sound of the water pausing.

“What’s up?”

“Could you set an alarm on my phone for 7:30 A.M. tomorrow before I forget? I think I left it on the side table.”

“You got it, Doll.”

“You’re the best! I’m almost done, I’ll be out in like two minutes,” you called, and soon after the sound of rushing water resumed.

Bucky grabbed your phone and typed in the passcode, his heart fluttering a little as he thought about how you trusted him enough to know it.

But the flutter stopped almost as quickly as it started, the moment your phone turned on and resumed on your text string with someone. He would’ve ignored it, but a red heart at the top of the screen caught his eye.

Who the hell is “Daryl,” and why does he have a heart emoji next to his name?

Bucky couldn’t help himself as his eyes flitted over your last texts.

Daryl ❤️ I’m back in town, lemme know when you’re around 

You About to leave for a quick mission, but I’ll be back tmw evening. I miss you sm :( how about we meet up Monday morning at 8 at Bernie’s cafe?

Daryl ❤️ Lets do it. And I miss you too, can’t wait to see your beautiful face!! I love you, be careful

You Love you too, and Im always careful 😘

Bucky felt sick to his stomach. You had never mentioned a brother named Daryl, or any other kind of family member. And you’d told him about all your closest friends, and none of them were named Daryl. How did Bucky not know you had a boyfriend?

Bucky fought the urge to scroll up, and quickly tapped out of the app, and set the alarm you asked him to set. 

So you were meeting this “Daryl” tomorrow morning?

Bucky heard the water stop, and the sound of the shower curtain shuffling.

Shit. You were getting out. Fuck, he wasn’t ready to face you.

You’d never mentioned you were in a relationship before. He would remember. How long have you been dating? And more importantly, why did you keep this from him? Did you feel like you couldn’t trust him? Maybe you weren’t as close friends as he’d thought.

“Which movie did you want to watch tonight?” You asked, peeking out of the door with a turquoise towel wrapped around you.

“Um, I’m actually really tired, suddenly. I think I’m going to go to bed.” Bucky stuttered, avoiding your gaze as he quickly stood up.

“Oh, okay,” you responded, disappointment and concern lacing your voice. “Everything okay?”

“Everything is fine. Glad you got back safe. Good night.”

With that, Bucky ducked out of your room and practically ran back to his.

Bucky tossed and turned, and once he got over his embarrassment, he settled into a familiar depressive feeling. Of course you didn’t like him back. What the fuck was he thinking? He’s—well, he’s Bucky. Broken, only destined to ever be your friend. How could he be foolish enough to think you would love him like he loves you. At about hour 4, the heartbreak started turning into betrayal. Betrayal that you kept this from him. And soon enough, that betrayal festered into a kind of resentment, something he’d never felt for you before.

He didn’t get much sleep that night.

Bucky checked the clock for the 20th time in the past 5 minutes. 7:45 A.M. You were probably about to leave. Bucky felt his heart clench. He was usually up by 7, and eating breakfast in the common area by 7:30. He sat at the barstool, dragging his spoon around his now soggy Coco Puffs, waiting for you to appear. Why he felt the need to torture himself, he didn’t know.

Finally, he heard your steps coming down the hall. 

And there you appeared, wearing the most beautiful sundress he had ever seen. It was lavender, and had small white flowers adorning the skirt, and it fell just above your knees. 

Bucky took you in, and his momentary adoration turned back to his heartbreak. You were dressed up as if you were going on a date. There was no chance this wasn’t your boyfriend.

“Good morning Bucky, did you sleep okay last night?” 

“Yes.” He lied. Maybe you would tell him the truth if he asked. Yes it would hurt hearing the truth from your mouth, but he wanted to give you a chance to tell him your secret. “Where are you headed?”

“To meet a friend,” you nodded smoothly. 

Maybe Bucky was crazy. Maybe he was overthinking all of this. Maybe Daryl really was just a friend.

“Which friend?”

“Penny.”

So you were just flat out lying to him now. Bucky nodded and waited for you to leave before moping back to his room. He wanted to cry. And he did for a minute, or two, but his tears turned from sad to angry when he remembered you were now lying. You never lied to Bucky, and Bucky never lied to you. At least, he thought that was how it was. He clenched his fists, mad at you for betraying him, but more mad at himself for believing he could ever have you.

He didn’t move from his bed.

“Bucky?” Your voice emerged after three knocks to his door.

He couldn’t get himself to respond. 

The door slowly creaked open, a stream of light flooding his dark room.

“Hey Buck. You okay? You seemed a little off this morning.”

“Fine.” He mumbled, not turning over in bed to face you.

A pause. 

“Jamie, what’s wrong?” You asked, closing the door behind you and flicking on the light. 

“Don’t call me that.”

“What?” You asked, slightly taken aback. You thought he loved your affectionate nickname for him.

“I don’t want you to call me ‘Jamie’ anymore.”

“Okay…”

He felt the bed dip as you sat next to him. 

“Bucky,” you whispered, “please talk to me.”

He sat up and gave you a pointed look. Was he being immature? Yes. But what could he do, he just discovered that his best friend has been lying to him, and doesn’t love him.

“Where were you?” He asked.

You furrowed your brows a moment, trying to piece together where he was going with this. 

“I was at Bernie’s with Penny.”

“Don’t lie to me.” He sneered.

Your eyes widened at his bite.

“I’m not lying? Bucky, what is going on?”

“What’s going on is that you’ve been keeping the fact that you have a boyfriend from me. Why don’t you want to tell me?”

“A boyfriend?” You blinked. “I don’t have a boyfriend,”

“Why won’t you be honest with me?” He yelled, and you scooted back.

“I am!”

“Then who is Daryl?”

“What?”

“I saw your texts last night, when you asked me to set your alarm.” Bucky looked down at his lap, ashamed.

“Bucky,” you sighed, and a look of understanding crossed your face. A moment later you held out your phone to him.

“What?” He asked, dumbly looking at your outstretched hand. The screen was on your text string with Daryl.

“Call the number.” You simply said.

“What?” He repeated.

“Take my phone, and call the number.”

Confused and suspicious, Bucky grabbed your phone and hesitated over the call icon. 

“Go ahead,” you urged.

He pressed the button. 

Ring.

Ring.

Ri—

“Hey!” A familiar feminine voice rang through the speaker. “What’s up hon?”

“Hello?” Bucky said, looking from the phone to you to the phone.

“Uh, hi? Is that Bucky?”

“P—Penny?” He sputtered.

“Hey Bucky! What’s up, is everything okay? I thought Y/N was calling.”

“Hey Pen,” you interjected, “Everything’s fine, I’ll call you back in a bit, kay’?”

“Sure thing, bye, love ya,” Penny added, and hung up.

Bucky stared at the now blank phone, baffled.

“I don’t understand.”

“Bucky,” you sighed, and tilted his chin to look at you. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Penny is in my contacts as “Daryl” because it’s my funny little nickname for her. My Dad has had a best friend since grade school named Daryl, and they don’t see each other often, but when they do it’s like nothing has changed. They get along like no time has passed. I call Penny “my Daryl” because I know that even if we don’t talk for years, we are so close that I know we would be the exact same.”

Bucky sat quietly for a moment, simply taking in your story. He felt really stupid.

“I’m sorry,” he started, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry I called you a liar.” He struggled to meet your gaze, ashamed of what he did.

“Jamie—can I call you Jamie now?”

He nodded sheepishly.

“Jamie, I forgive you. But I wish you had just talked to me about it, and asked me. We are usually so good about being open with each other. What happened?” You asked, wide eyes looking into his.

“I know, I’m sorry. I flipped out, I guess I was just shocked, because I was going to—” he licked his lips, “well, I was…”

“You can tell me, Bucky. Honesty, remember?” You soothed, placing your hand on his leg.

He gulped.

“I was going to ask you to be with me.”

You tilted your head, not quite understanding.

“Like, I was gonna ask if you’d let me be your boyfriend.” He mumbled. “So when I saw that you were texting and saying ‘I love you’ to some guy, I guess I was just blindsided.”

“James,” you smiled, moving yourself to sit on his lap. You brought your forehead against his. “You silly, jealous man.” You gently stroked his cheek with your right hand. “You want to be my boyfriend?"

"It sounds so juvenile, I don't know, I just want you to be mine, and for you to call me 'yours,'" he mumbled.

"I accept," you giggled, and watched his glittering eyes shoot to yours.

He had started to say something, but he stopped when you brought your soft lips to his.

“I'm so happy,” he whispered between kisses.

Suffice it to say, Bucky completed step one of the path to marrying you.

A/N: Tysm for reading! If you liked it, please feel free to let me know!

Also I'm sorry if the ending sucks, I wrote this in a couple hours and Idk why I'm so bad at endings gahh

Here's my Masterlist if you'd like to read more!

[iidesxreii]

Fire, meet Medicine - E. Buckley

╔ Pairing: Evan Buckley x Plus Size!Black!Doctor!Reader

☆ Word Count: 3.2k

☆ Category: Fluff (near the end)/SMUT! (18+ YOU HAVE BEEN FOREWARNED)

☆ Summary: You find yourself at a halloween party with one particular person fighting to get your attention. And when he does, all hell breaks loose.

☆ Content: First meet, makeout, SMUT!!!!

╚ A/N: Since my first fic did so well (in my opinion) I guess I'm gonna keep going with posting my drafts. I have about 4 drafts that can be tied into this so I'm going to call this a series and just go through with posting these on Wednesdays. I'll post regular fics on Saturdays instead. This is written with a plus size, black female character in mind. I don't see a lot of Black!reader fics let alone PlusSize!reader fics so I decided to make one for myself as it is my ethnicity. At some point it will be VERY known, but hopefully it doesn't bother any of you! ALSO!! I know my smut scenes suck, I'm trying and working on them to get better. If you have ANY tips, and I mean ANY, please send them in or message me about it so I can get better. Literally anything to make my fics better helps.

As always, even if you hate it, let me know. constructive criticism is always welcome when it comes to my writing.

═══════ ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ｡･ ═══════

You check your outfit over once more before turning in the mirror and making sure your modesty is still intact. It was halloween and you were finishing up your outfit. Which consisted of a small green dress, some wings you found last minute and a whole lot of glitter. You flattened out your dress before grabbing the clutch you had packed before you started getting ready. It had all of the normal necessities. A card holder, keys, lip gloss, makeup wipe, compact mirror, a stain remover stick and a miniature deodorant. You grabbed your phone off the charger and checked the time. The party you were attending was across town and had started at 10. You on the other hand hadn’t gotten off your shift until 11 and rushed to get ready as quickly as possible. You knew the party wasn’t going to end soon since it was an LA party, but you still wanted some time to mingle about. 

You make your way down the stairs of your loft and into your living room area to check on your dog. Cerberus was fully capable of protecting the apartment while you were gone, but you always made sure to check on him before leaving. Your heels click against the hardwood as you walk over to your dog and rub your hand against his head. He makes a little sound which has you poking your bottom lip out. You almost cave in and say fuck the halloween party. You could have your own. You, Cerberus and a bucket of candy from the store. You sigh and shake your head before heading into the kitchen. You check his automatic bowls before peeking back at him in his bed. You blink a few times before making your way to the door and heading out, locking the door behind you.

You put in for a rideshare and make your way down to the lobby. The rideshare app dinged and you were donned with a wait time of 3 minutes. You shuffled a bit as you felt the eyes of your doorman on you. Connor was nice, you spoke to him every once in a while but not like you spoke to Fredrick. Frederick was your favorite, he treated you like his own daughter. Asking about your residence at the hospital and making sure you were taking care of yourself. You spoke to him every morning and you were sure you wouldn’t miss another chat tomorrow morning. Maybe you’d bring him a coffee. Before long your phone is pinging and letting you know your ride was outside. You make your way outside and get into the car. Immediately your trek starts and you’re on your way.

You walk into the house of your friend who was hosting the party and sca around for her. You wanted to say hi before heading anywhere else. The minute you walked through the door boys looked your way. Some approached but others just watched, you could feel their eyes digging into you. Before long you find your friend and give a hug before thanking her for the invite.

“You look so good! I’m so glad you could make it. Hopefully residency isn’t so bad?” Your friend, Emara, gave you a hug before looking you over once. Emara was your dorm mate in med school. You guys clicked almost immediately and clicked even better when she found out you were 2 years younger than the preconceived notion she had placed on you. She wasn’t aware she was bunking with a ‘literal genius’. Her words, not yours.

“It’s just as I expected! How is yours?” You look over her costume and smile. She was of course dressed as a sexy nurse. She was waiting for residency before she pulled out all the stops. She was waiting for the chance to actually drop the bomb that she was a doctor.

“Calmer than North Med! Enjoy the party and the hotties! We’ll have to catch up later on!” She turns and heads off into a crowd with a handful of shots in her hands. You turn towards the makeshift bar and pour yourself something to drink. You turn around and lean on it before noticing the lovely, and very hot, man dressed as Robin. He had his eyes on you, and you were attempting to ignore him. You turn away from him and make your way deeper into the crowd and away from his eyes. A good 15 minutes later you find yourself talking to a girl that was also a student at your med school. Though you had never formally met her, you were excited to talk to her. You had also managed to avoid the blonde haired boy pretty nicely. Ever since the encounter 15 minutes ago he’s been trying to get to you, but you wanted to play the long game first. 

You hadn’t let yourself experience a relationship in a while seeing as you were always busy with schooling, then med school came around, and then residency. You had no time for a relationship back then, or right now. But you could have fun in the meantime. You turned to the girl and said you were going to grab a drink and heeded off towards the counter. You stopped to grab another drink and managed to slip away to the backyard as you noticed the guy coming your way. You stayed hidden from him for a while before you caught him coming at me from a little ways away. You tried to hold back a smile before turning to him as he approached you. He stopped right next to you and made no effort to speak to you just yet. You sipped your drink and checked the time on your phone that you had pulled out of your clutch when you were getting that other girl’s number. 1:38. It wasn’t like you had work tomorrow, but you still wanted to be in bed by a certain time. 

“Are you playing a game with me?” The guy turned to you ever so slightly and you giggled into the cup that was at your lips. You peeked at him for a second before taking another sip of your drink and turning to him fully.

“It’s my first night out in like a couple months. I just wanted to have a little fun is all.” He drank the rest of his drink and he sat it down somewhere. He turned back to you and asked a question. 

“And why did you choose me to play it with?” You looked up into his eyes. He was taller than you expected and you kinda liked that. He had a birthmark above his eye, he smelled like alcohol and it was mixing with something so good. You couldn’t explain it. It smelled like something You needed in your apartment all the time. If you were being honest, you wanted him in your apartment all the time. The things you’d do if you had his scent near you all the time. Wait…no. 

“I dunno. You were cute. And you caught my eye.” He shook his head and let out a low chuckle. It riveted into your brain and straight through you. It was hot, fuck that, it was sexy. You loved the sound. And you wanted to hear it again and again and again.

“Ah. Cat and mouse. Which one am I?” You let out a giggle and shook your head. He had a point. But you weren’t sure which one he was. You bit your lip and scanned his body, you didn’t know if this was the alcohol talking or if you genuinely thought this, but why were you running from someone as sexy as him? Instead of running you should’ve been getting your payback for the last few months. You were in desperate need and you had finally found something that appealed to you as much as your vibrator did. 

“What’s your name?” was what came out of your mouth. You watched confusion pass by his face before his answer slipped out of his mouth with a quickness. 

“Buck.” You raised your eyebrows at that answer. Who names their kid Buck? But like he read your mind he continues. “It’s a nickname. I-it’s my last name. Evan Buckley…hence the Buck…” You shook your head and smiled as you extended your hand. You think it was the alcohol hitting. Whatever you mixed in those few cups were coming back to bite you in the ass.

“(Y/N), nice to meet you Buck…but I have a proposition.” He made a face and you assumed he was listening. You placed both hands onto his shoulder, and leaned up to his ear. You were close enough to whisper but not to get lip gloss on it. “I’m not going to lie, this could definitely be the alcohol talking but, I’ve never met someone who appealed to me as much as my vibrator did. And I’d kill to have her right now. So instead, how about we get one more cup of whatever it is they have in that kitchen, get shit faced and make our way to the bathroom. That way, I get what I've been needing for 9 months, and you can learn my last name.” You leaned back onto your feet and winked at him. He easily grabbed your hand and beelined his way to the kitchen area. You both grabbed a cup each, and downed it in that same second. Then you made a direct line for a bathroom. You both make it to a bathroom and the minute the door closes your back is pressed against the door with his hands running all over your body. His hands felt so good running over your body, everything felt surreal. This is exactly what you needed in your life. Or at least right now at this moment. 

He pulled away for a second and instead went into your neck. Sucking, licking, soft kisses, all of it was pushing you to the edge. His hands found your ass and gripped it tightly, which made you moan. In turn, you rake your hands down his back and he almost growls in your ear. He pulled away from your neck and quickly lifted you onto the bathroom counter. The feeling of the cold counter threw you off for a second making you gasp and arch your back. He took this as an opening and pushed his way in between your legs. He began rubbing your thigh with one hand and dipped his head back to meet your lips in a kiss. You felt him grind against you and your eyes almost rolled out of your head. There was a knock at the door and you both ignored it. You wanted this. You needed this. Nobody could stop you from going through with this right now. Then there was another knock. And another and another and another. It was constant at this point, and you knew it was only going to get worse. You pushed him back a bit before checking your phone. 2:10.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

By 2:27 Buck has you pushed up against his door and is trying to unlock it to no avail. You release him and he grumbles as you step to the side to allow him to unlock the door properly. You were sure that if he didn’t get the door unlocked he was going to have you in any way in the hallway of his apartment building. The lock clicks smoothly and Buck opens the door before bringing you in. Before you can get a look around you’re tugged into him and he’s picking you up with ease. Before you know it you’re being tossed onto a bed.

“Are you sure about this?” Buck is standing over you and your mind is anywhere but vanilla. You watch as he takes his shirt off and you almost pass out from how good he looks. Instead of marveling like you want to, you find his eyes again and smile.

“Thinking I’m going to change my mind Buckley?” You’re perched up on your elbows and Buck is eyeing you up from head to toe. You watch as his eyes darken and his pupils dilate before they find yours.

“I’m all about consent.” His smile is shit eating and you almost find it funny. He leans down and places both hands on the bottom of the bed. He’s leaned over almost primal looking. He’s cute, what else can he do?

“That’s hot.” you mean it towards him, but the consensual part is just as hot. You bite your bottom lip and motion for him to come to you. He crawls up the bed and you find it in you to take off the dress you’re wearing. As the dress passes your eyes you find Buck sitting back on his ankles undoing your heels. He takes one off, and then moves to the other. Your heels are soon discarded along with your dress and wings. His pants soon find a home on the floor with your costume and you both are back to kissing. His kisses trail down the valley of your breast, over your belly button and to the top of your underwear. He looks at you before watching for any type of wavering. When you nod he drags your underwear down and is faced with your soaking cunt. He all but groans as he licks a tender stirpe up your center. You shudder and reach for his hair. As you come in contact with his locks he dives into you licking recklessly. Sucking, licking, hot breaths passing your sensitive bud. Everything feels much better than you could’ve imagined. He hums something and your back arches. Your breathless moans push him over the edge and he finds every way to get you to react like that again. You feel the bud in your stomach growing and your grip on his hair gets tighter. He flattens his tongue against you and you immediately find release. 

He doesn’t let go though, he moves and inserts two fingers into you making your legs wrap tightly around his head. He takes this as something you liked and continues digging into you. He takes his time exploring the inside of you and your moans become a mix of heavy breaths and incoherent words. He finds that ever loving squishy spot and picks up his pace. Buck watches as you fight the inevitable, taking pride in the fact that he’s doing so well you think you have to hide anything that falls out of that pretty mouth of yours. You, on the other hand, have to stop the string of curses that threaten to fly out of your mouth. Buck finds your bud once more and expertly licks at it with his tongue. He starts slow, picks up space and then slows it down again. You arch your back and pull him into you more as you find release against his face once more. Your legs begin shaking and you’re reluctant to let go of his hair. He pulls your hand from his head and kisses the back of your hand.

He lifts his head from you and pulls his fingers out, licking them clean. A devious smile on his face as he moves up to find your lips. He captures them in a kiss and you immediately taste yourself on his lips. You didn’t know what about it had turned you on, but it made another pool between your legs. Buck pulls back with your bottom lip between his teeth and tugs on it just a bit. 

“Can you give me one more? You’re shaking and holding on pretty tight.” You nod your head and Buck bites his bottom lip before kissing you once more and heading back down. His fingers find that spot inside of you again and this time you hold nothing back. You let out every moan and whimper that graces your lips. It turns Buck on more as he finds your bud and licks at it relentlessly. From how good it felt you find yourself grinding into his face for more pressure. Buck tries to find release from his bed. He grinds his own hips into the bed as you moan from how good he’s making you feel. Your hips become sloppy and Buck knows you’re about to reach another release so he takes his free arm and wraps it around your hips. He locks you to the bed and continues his assault on your cunt. Within moments your moans become breathless gasps and Buck sits up to watch your face fully. Your eyes roll back and you cum but he doesn’t let up on his fingers and you find yourself squirting onto his chest. Buck in awe, cums in his underwear at the sight of you.

“Oh my god! I’m so sor-” you begin to panic. You had never experienced that in the many years you had been sexually active. No guy, or girl during your small phase, had ever made you feel like that. Buck immediately closes his eyes and you wish the bed would swallow you whole.

“No. No no no. Do not be sorry.” Buck gets off the bed and heads into the bathroom with a slight jog. You hear water running and then in seconds he’s back out and leaning over your trembling legs. “That was the hottest thing ever, oh my god.” His reassurance calms you almost immediately and you find it comforting that he wasn’t mad about it. He wipes at your legs and your core before making sure he’s got everything with another swipe of the towel. He immediately heads over to the dresser and digs into one of the drawers. He grabs a navy blue shirt and turns to head down the stairs. He comes back up and is holding sheets in his hand. You notice the wet spot, courtesy of you and a blush finds its way onto your cheeks. You grab the comforter and wrap yourself in it as Buck changes the sheets as fast as possible, then he turns to you with the shirt in hand and holds it out to you.

“I’m gonna go shower. Do you want to stay or do you want me to call an uber?” His voice is softer as you make your way back into the bed. He follows suit and places himself on the edge of the bed and his hand finds a place on your ankle. He’s rubbing soothing circles into it while your leg jerks ever so slightly.

“W-whatever you want…” You whisper it and Buck’s eyebrows crease. You had never been asked if you wanted to stay, let alone given something to sleep in. Buck smiles and his hand finds its way to your thigh and he pats it softly. He hands you the shirt before standing and heading towards the bathroom.

“It’s way too early to be kicking you out. I’ll drive you home tomorrow.” and with that he’s in the bathroom. You hear the shower turn on and then slight humming. You place the shirt over your head before fixing the duvet over the entire bed and lying down. Before long his pillow lulls you to sleep.

[skyeslittlecorner]

Hello! I hope you're having a wonderful Halloween!

Will it be all right if I request the WHB King's reactions to MC wearing One of those sexy Halloween costumes (any of your choice!)

You're writing is extremely well done And I really enjoy reading your work!

Have a nice day or night :3

Hello! And thank you! And yes, and thank you! I'm writing this answer early, because the time it's posted, I'm probably sitting with family and friends. Hope I can brighten up your three minutes with my silly ideas 

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

You came to Satan in a mummy costume, covering strategic places with bandages. He is delighted. For this joy he will kick anyone who looks at you, and he will want to take you here, now, in this corner, on this wall. The bandages you wore will grow to the status of relics. Satan will tie them around his wrists for difficult fights, and small pieces will be used to tie the most seriously wounded warriors, as a reward and support in healing.

Mammon won't be able to take his eyes off you when he sees you dressed as an Egyptian queen. Dripping with gold and silk, half-naked, combining inaccessibility with luxury... This will be Tartaros' favorite Halloween, because Mammon will take you on his knees and open up the throne room, accepting audiences for ordinary devils. Let all the devils see how beautiful and powerful their queen and his Master is, before he takes you to his chambers to ruin your expensive makeup.

Leviathan will be disgusted when he sees your exposed shoulders, tight corset and short skirt with a deep cut if you dress up as a pirate. What kind of idea is that? And that knife on your thigh. You want to fight with anything? With this? Foolish human. As a pirate, you should be ready to fight a kraken... and he can show you how dangerous and big the tentacles are.

You know those edible bracelets made of powdered candy? This is what the bikini Beelzebub will send you is made of. Only there will be less candy than on this bracelet. So that you can somehow go out on the town, you'll throw on his coat and tie it tightly around your waist. Improvisation is all you have left. You grab your markers, open the phone gallery and in the mirror, sloppily, scribble words on your body; Beel's tattoos. You'll steal Bael's glasses, and voila! Avisos, don't count on seeing your king, because when he sees you, he'll get obsessed. Do you want to be his so much that you're dressed up as him? Do you miss him so much? Come here. All you'll see for the next few hours is him and his clones; he'll point out every mistake in your tattoos and make you learn them by heart on his own body.

For Lucifer, you really tried your best with the makeup. You came in torn clothes, with fake wounds painted all over your body. The poor devil almost had a heart attack when he saw you. He rushed to check which of them were real, and when it turned out that none, you only heard a quiet whisper and felt a warm breath on your cheek. "Not very convincing." he muttered disapprovingly, as if he almost didn't panic at your sight. "I'll help you make them better." He licked his lips. Looking at his sharp fangs... your makeup can't compare to what they will leave.

For Belphegor the sexiest thing you can do is dress up as a mattress, but he guesses that wasn't the purpose of this event. You put on a sexy outfit, drew some card designs, and slid some cards and dices under your clothes and into ruffles. You decided to present the devil with a fait accompli. Took his favorite dice and threw it under your bra. "Oops." You spread your hands as if you hadn't done it on purpose. "I think you lost something?" Although initially unfazed, you quickly motivated him to search... even though your ornaments would soon be the last thing he was interested in.

Asmodeus was hard (as always) to figure out… so you decided to ignore him completely and just have fun. Let's test our king. Will he really think you're sexy in *everything*? Even if you dress up as an inflatable T-Rex? You were already excited when you found out that there was no such thing in hell. Sucks. Annoyed, you decided to tease your king. With Eligos and Paimon you spent a good few days, preparing a tight black dress, a curly wig, and specific makeup. To them, you looked simply sexy; but when you stood before Asmodeus, made up like Lust, his eyes widened. After all, he’s a man of culture who spends most of his time on Earth. “Sassy.” He smiled menacingly as he ran his finger over the tattoo between your collarbones. “Do you want to mock me or please me? Oh, well… Guess I have to ignite you.” Others better appreciate your creation before he sees you, because there will be absolutely nothing left of it.

[angelyuji]

It’s a crime that there isn’t more stuff for Cecil (now that I’ve gotten into invincible). In your post you mentioned reader being in a Truman Show like situation, what if someone unfortunately messed up and gave it away, or she figured some stuff out and tried to leave? Is the tracker in her or is it like something she can leave in order to buy time? I just need more stuff for this man and the show as a whole. Love your works by the way.

omggg right!!! i got into invincible when it first came out and the lack of cecil x readers made me soo sad but im here to fix that... now...

anyways thats something i thought about while writing the headcanons but i didnt want to go off on another tangent halfway through lmao

cw // yandere behavior, made up gda employee oc, truman-show vibes, i'm not really sure how to label this... its not really kidnapping cuz you moved willingly but cecil set it all up. like he controls every part of your life, unconsensual body modification, (lmk if i missed anything)

humans make mistakes unfortunately and that goes for the gda as well for sureee.

no matter how much they're trained and how much cecil stresses that you cannot know that you're being watched or that basically your entire life/job is fake, someone will slip up.

similar to how it happened on the truman show, you wouldn't necessarily figure it out until someone slips up.

you periodically check your phone. hoping to get a call from cecil soon. you missed him: his warmth, his smile, his voice, his hands, everything about him. you could feel your heart ache.

"(y/n)?" you turn back around to jessica, sighing. your neighbor had come over, asking for some company after her husband left for work. you set a cup of coffee down in front of her and lean back on the counter behind you.

"sorry, i- cecil hasn't called me back. he said he would after his-" you pause, cecil hadn't told you what was keeping him away this time after leaving in a rush.

'i'm sorry, i know i promised to stay longer, but things are... they need me back at work.' he pressed a kiss to your forehead and you rub his back. you could still feel his misery after he pulls you into a tight hug. you tilt his face down to plant a kiss on his lips.

'cecil, go. i'll be here, waiting for you."

"his mission brief or whatever?" jessica rolls her eyes, sipping her coffee. "cecil is such a hardass. so-called leader of the GDA can't even make time for the person he's keep-" she stops, cup frozen against her lips. you stare at her, eyes wide.

"what? mission briefing? what are you-" you reach over to her, but she jolts out of her chair. the cup slips from her hand, shattering at the floor.

"shit- i'm- god, i'm so fucked." she looked frantic, eyes darting around the house before bolting. you were frozen in place, eyes at the front door she left open. you looked over to the mess your friend had left and resign yourself to clean.

i feel like once you get that small slip, everything else comes unraveling with it

cecil will find out that jessica messed up (cuz he's watching you using the cameras in your house <33) and boyyy is he pissed

not that you would know how pissed he is

cecil, to me, is a very soft yandere compared to the psychos we have in the show (and that i've written about) so he wouldn't kill jessica/whomever slipped up

but he would make them disappear from your life

he would affectively move them from the quiet comforts of the suburban town to some fuckass mission in the arctic or smth

firing them isn't enough punishment, he needs them to feel pain w/o killing them becuz he has "morals"

anyyyway you'd get distracted that day with work and then cecil coming over to go see wth jessica was talking about

you rest against his chest, head buzzing with worry. 'what did jessica mean by mission? what was the GDA? what did she mean "keeping you"? was jessica lying to you? is cecil?' you close your eyes and cling to him. "you feeling okay, honey?" he pulls you in by the waist, putting a hand to your forehead, "doesn't seem like you're sick."

you smile and rest your head back onto his chest, "just... a weird day, i guess."

"talk to me." he uses a finger to tilt your head up. you bite your lip, unsure if you should bring it up. "don't do that." you stop, just from his words.

"i- today... you know our neighbor, jessica?"

"she sounds... familiar. why?"

"well... she said something about a GDA? i'm honestly not sure, but she seemed just so weird today after i mentioned you." you feel cecil's grip on your waist tighten.

"what did she say exactly?"

"i don't know," you sigh, tired. "something about a mission and a GDA... and..." you pause.

"and?" you feel cecil stir, turning himself to look at you. your eyes trace the lines on his face, the scar on his face, and the love in his eyes.

you smile, "it doesn't matter. she was probably just talking crazy because she missed her husband." you laugh. cecil smiles, pulling you back into him, resting his chin on your head. "do you go crazy missing me, cecil?" you mumble into his chest as his hands sneak under your shirt.

"i start going crazy the moment i can't see you, (y/n)."

btw cecil's 6'4

OWY*)IDG(U:OKJD"PISA"SDOKAS{DKASDSAD im about to sloppy style on that istggg

sorry, cecil was lowkey interrogating you cause he wanted to see 1. how much his dumbass employee said and 2. how much you believed

he's pretty happy you disregarded everything...

but did you?

after that moment with jessica, you start to really notice how many eyes are on you

at first, you think you're just being paranoid but then when did you introduce yourself to the mailman? why did everybody in town know your name? you're not that popular to have people watching you over their newspaper or as they walk their dog

to get rid of your suspicions you go over to jessica's house only to find a sold sign on their front lawn.

cecil is quick to get rid of idiots, so jessica and ?maybe?fake?husband was gone literally the day after she messed up

that was the final straw for you to realize that something was very very veryyy wrong

anyway lemme add some quick thoughts before this gets longer than it needs to be: cecil def put a tracker on you.

he couldn't really put a tracker on every piece of clothing you own, so maybe he told the in-town dentist that your wisdom teeth need to come out or some tooth needed fixing

and while you were knocked out, tracker in your skin

the only way you could leave effectively is if somehow you managed to figure out where the tracker is and also somehow manage to evade the employees that watch the house and also somehow manage to disable the cameras before cecil finds out

its hard but... with a little luck (and a kinder author) you/(y/n) could do it!

i also mentioned in a different post that cecil would probably put a chip similar to mark's in your head, but i think he'd do something like that only if you were someone with powers

[orchidniins]

oh i NEED pt 2 of Serendipitous Beginnings🙏

Serendipitous Beginnings Pt. 2 | Arthur Frederick

Summary: Y/N and Arthur finally spend some much time together and go on their first date. Between movie nights and cute museum dates, it's clear they've fallen hard for each other. Pairings: ArthurTV x afab!Reader Warnings: Mature content, Smut, Fluff Word Count: 6k

A/N: Thanks to everyone who showed love on my first post! I wanted to write a part 2 for this with all the cute little ideas in my head. This fic is basically a little collection of events and just a little sprinkle of smut right at the end. I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist ⟡ Part 1

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You awaken on Saturday, later than your usual wake-up time, feeling a faint headache throbbing behind your temples. Despite the headache, your mind is abuzz with the memories of last night's conversations with Arthur. The lingering memories of the night's events are still fresh in your mind.

As you reach for your phone, a smile tugs at the corner of your lips, eager to see if Arthur had messaged you. Sure enough, his name lights up your screen, and you can't help but feel a rush of happiness as you read his message. The two of you had stayed up pretty much all night texting, the conversation flowing effortlessly between you.

Eventually, it was mutually decided to stop texting and finally catch some sleep, but now, even with maybe only two hours of sleep, you're still buzzing with excitement to keep the conversation going. You couldn't help but grin at your phone, fingers tapping out quick replies

Arthur: Hey! Morning! 😊 Arthur: Did you manage to get any sleep in? Y/N: Hey! Good Morning 😊 Y/N: Yeah, I did. Just barely. Did you sleep well? Arthur: Yeah, I managed to get a few hours in too. Couldn't stop thinking about our conversation though. Y/N: Haha, same here! I guess we'll just have to continue it in person, huh? 😉 Arthur: Did you wanna maybe grab some lunch today? Y/N: That sounds great! I'd love to. Where were you thinking? Arthur: How about that place we talked about yesterday? Y/N: Perfect! Can't wait 😊

Eagerly agreeing to meet Arthur for lunch, excitement courses through you at the thought of spending more time with him. However, as you're about to set your phone down, a sinking feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. You had completely forgotten about your plans with Sienna to meet up with a mutual friend who was in town for the weekend.

Y/N: Hey, Arthur! I'm so sorry, but something's come up for today. Can we reschedule for tomorrow? Arthur: Oh, no worries! Tomorrow won't work for me, I've got a shoot scheduled. Y/N: Ah, got it. No problem. Maybe another time then? Arthur: Definitely! Let's figure something out soon. 😊

After a bit more back-and-forth, the conversation trails off, leaving you feeling disappointed that your plans with Arthur didn't pan out. With a sigh, you set your phone aside and get out of bed, heading towards Sienna's bedroom to check in on her.

Entering her room, you find her sprawled out on the bed, half of her body hanging off the edge, her hair messy and makeup smeared. You try to wake her up gently, but she protests, murmuring, "No, not yet, five more minutes."

"Siii," you say, nudging her shoulder, "you know I turned down a date for this lunch today, so you better get up, or I'm gonna have to use violence." Sienna groans in response, still half-asleep, but your mention of a date piques her interest. "A date? What do you mean, a date?" she asks, her eyes fluttering open as she tries to grasp the situation.

You chuckle at her confusion. "I was just kidding, but we better make it to that café on time. You're the one who insisted we go there, even if it's a 50-minute drive from here. Now, get up." Sienna, still groggy, fixates on the idea of a date. "Okay, but what date?" she mumbles, her words slurred with sleep.

With a laugh, you shake your head and say, "Nothing, just get ready," before leaving her room to get ready yourself.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

Over the next few days, despite the promise to meet up, neither you nor Arthur seemed to find the time. It had been over a week since the initial plan was made, and your schedules were keeping you both occupied. Arthur had spent a few days away from London for a shoot, while your own commitments to classes, coursework, and your TA job filled your days from dawn till dusk.

The conversation between you over text seemed to flow effortlessly though. Whether it was during breaks between classes or late at night after a long day of work, hours slipped by unnoticed as you traded stories, shared interests, and laughed at each other's jokes. Even through the screen, you felt like there was undeniable chemistry.

In person, however, it was a different story. Whenever you crossed paths with Arthur in person, whether for the few minutes you had while entering or leaving your apartment, the atmosphere became charged with a hint of awkwardness. Your face-to-face interactions were tinged with an unspoken tension. Probably owing to the fact that neither of you had addressed the hot and steamy kiss shared the other night, leaving many unanswered questions. And neither of you knew how to broach the subject, leaving the issue lingering between you like an elephant in the room.

Today, you're rushing out of your apartment, a whirlwind of activity as you stuff papers into your backpack, your mind preoccupied with the evening class you volunteered to handle for a professor.

You stand outside the elevator, tapping your foot impatiently, waiting for the doors to open. As they slide open, you're about to step in when you're met with Arthur's smiling face.

"Hey," Arthur greets you warmly, his eyes brightening at the sight of you.

"Hey," you reply, mustering a smile as you step into the elevator beside him.

"How're things going?" Arthur asks, his voice laced with genuine interest.

"All good," you respond, offering a brief nod. "Just heading to TA for an evening class."

Arthur nods in understanding. "You've been pretty occupied lately, huh?"

You chuckle softly. "Yeah, well you know… Where are you off to?"

"I'm meeting some friends for a drink.", Arthur responds.

"That sounds fun," you say, though inwardly you can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment that your paths are diverging once again.

The elevator ride continues in silence, the awkward tension lingering between you like a thick fog. You bite your tongue, racking your brain for something to say to break the uneasy atmosphere. Finally, just as the elevator doors slide open, you blurt out, "Are you free tomorrow night?"

Arthur's eyebrows raise in surprise. "Um, I think so," he replies, sounding intrigued.

"I was thinking of having a movie marathon," you explain, feeling a surge of nervous energy. "And I was hoping to have someone along for it."

A hint of a smile plays at the corners of Arthur's lips. "That sounds like a plan," he says, his eyes brightening with interest. "What were you thinking of watching?"

You grin, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "How about 'The Lord of the Rings'?" you suggest eagerly.

Arthur's eyes light up at the suggestion. "Yes! I love Lord of the Rings. Have you watched the extended versions? If not, we could watch those," he says, genuine excitement in his voice.

Just as excited, you reply, "Yeah! I’d love that."

"Great, sounds like a plan," Arthur confirms with enthusiasm.

Feeling a weight lift off your shoulders, you say, "My place tomorrow? I’ll text you the time."

"Definitely. I'll see you then," Arthur replies.

With that, you bid Arthur goodbye as you step out of the elevator, feeling a sense of excitement building in your chest. Maybe this movie marathon would finally give you the chance to address the elephant in the room and see where things could go with Arthur. But your thoughts are interrupted by the fact that you didn't want to be late to set up for class. You wave him goodbye and head out.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

Before you know it, the day of your movie night arrives. You make sure to stock up on snacks and drinks, preparing for a cozy evening. With Sienna out of the city for work till next week, you have the place all to yourself. You take the time to set up the couch with extra pillows and grab an additional blanket from Sienna's room, ensuring everything is just right for your evening with Arthur.

However, for a fleeting moment, you can't help but overthink why you're going to such lengths. It's not like this was a date, just two friends hanging out. But you quickly brush off the thought when you hear a knock on your door. Taking a deep breath to shake off the nerves, you stride over to the door and swing it open, revealing Arthur standing on the other side.

"Hey!" he greets you with a warm smile, holding up a bag of snacks. "I brought some snacks for movie night. Hope you like popcorn and chocolate!"

You return his smile, feeling relieved at the sight of him. "That's perfect! Come on in," you say, stepping aside to let him enter. "I've set up the living room for our movie marathon. Make yourself at home."

As Arthur steps in, you close the door behind him, trying your best to calm your nerves. Tonight was supposed to be fun, you remind yourself, a simple movie watching experience between friends. Definitely not a date, just two friends hanging out.

You settle onto the couch, gesturing for Arthur to join you. He takes off his jacket and joins you. There's a brief moment of silence as you both get comfortable, but you're determined to keep the atmosphere light.

"So, how's your week been?" you asked, turning to Arthur in an attempt to break the awkward silence.

Arthur leaned back against the cushions, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "Kind of busy," he replied with a chuckle. "Filming schedules have been hectic lately, but it's been pretty fun filming with my mates. How about you?"

You shrugged, a wry smile playing on your lips. "Same old, same old. Classes, TA gig, grading papers, dealing with undergrads….," You trail off, not wanting to bore him with the details of your day-to-day responsibilities.

But Arthur seems genuinely interested. "I bet you're great at it though," he says, leaning closer, his eyes sparkling with sincerity.

You feel a warmth spread through you at his words, grateful for his encouragement. "Haha, thanks, Arthur," you reply, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, your eyes locked with his.

As the movie progressed, you found yourselves immersed in discussing your favorite scenes and characters. The initial awkwardness began to dissipate, replaced by an easy flow of conversation and laughter, and soon the movie became nothing more than background noise.

Before long, you realized that as the conversation flowed, you were sitting much closer to Arthur. Your knees brushed against each other as you faced one another on the couch. His arm draped over the back, his fingers lightly grazing your shoulder, sending delightful shivers down your spine.

Lost in the moment, you couldn't help but wonder why you had ever felt awkward around him in the first place. It felt as though the universe had conspired to bring you together. The desire to kiss him again bubbled up inside you, igniting a warmth that spread through your entire being.

With each passing second, it became increasingly difficult to ignore the palpable tension between you, leaving you hopeful that perhaps Arthur felt the same way.

In the silence that followed, the air between you seemed charged with anticipation. Slowly, almost hesitantly, the two of you leaned in towards each other, the space between you narrowing with each heartbeat.

His gaze met yours, "This feels familiar," Arthur murmured, breaking the silence. You couldn't help but laugh, relieved that at least one of you had acknowledged it.

"Does it now?" you replied, a playful grin tugging at the corners of your lips. "So, you do remember."

"How could I forget?" Arthur's voice was barely above a whisper, his words sending a shiver down your spine. "It's been on my mind ever since."

As he leaned in closer, a surge of excitement coursed through you. "Well, good then," you replied, your heart pounding in your chest. Without hesitation, his lips meet yours.

You shifted closer, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you into him. With a gentle but firm grip, he pulled you onto his lap, your bodies fitting together perfectly as if they were meant to be intertwined. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt of electricity through your body.

You melt into each other in a passionate kiss, the world around you seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you in your own private universe. His lips were soft, moving with a rhythm that matched yours. With each brush of his lips, it sends the blood rushing down to your core.

Lost in the heat of the kiss, you pressed yourself closer to him. Tangling your hands in his soft hair, savoring the feeling of his arms around you, the warmth of his body against yours.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, you found yourself lost in his gaze, unable to tear your eyes away from his. And you couldn’t remember the last time someone looked at you with such intensity.

As you both caught your breath, a wave of relief washed over you, the tension that had been building between you finally dissipating. With a gentle smile, he breaks the silence, his voice soft but determined. "Let me take you on a proper date," he says, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Okay," you chuckle softly, feeling excited at his words, a fluttering in your stomach as you look back at him. "I’m free this Friday," you reply, your voice filled with warmth. With a playful smile, you lean in and give him a little peck on the lips.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

You were thrilled when Arthur suggested meeting at the history museum after class, eagerly looking forward to spending time together. You even took the extra effort to dress up a bit for the occasion. However, as you hurriedly made your way there, excitement turned to frustration as you realized you were running late. The class you were assisting in had unexpectedly extended, leaving you racing against time as the museum's closing hour approached. You quickly texted Arthur, apologizing for the delay and assured him that you were on your way, determined to make it there as soon as possible.

Y/N: Hey, sorry I'm running a bit late 😅 Y/N: Class ran over, but I'll be there soon! Arthur: No worries at all. I'm just glad you can make it Arthur: Take your time 😊

With determination, you quicken your pace, determined not to let the opportunity slip away. As you finally arrive at the museum, you spot Arthur waiting patiently outside the entrance. He looks great, dressed in a nice crewneck sweatshirt and black cargos, it makes your heart skip a beat at just how good he looked.

You hurry over to him, eager to make up for lost time. "Hey!" you exclaim, a wide smile spreading across your face as you reach him.

"Hey," Arthur greets you warmly, his eyes lighting up with genuine delight at the sight of you. He opens his arms, inviting you into a warm embrace.

You gladly accept the hug, reveling in his warmth and the comforting scent of his cologne. "Sorry I'm late," you say softly, pulling away slightly to meet his gaze.

Arthur shakes his head, a reassuring smile playing on his lips. "No need to apologize. I'm just happy you're here now," he assures you, his voice filled with warmth.

You feel a surge of relief at his response. "Thanks for waiting," you say gratefully, reaching out to give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Arthur squeezes your hand back, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. "Of course, it's no problem. We can always do something else if the museum's closed," he suggests, ever the considerate gentleman, despite the museum being almost 15 mins past closing.

But you shake your head, determined not to let the evening go to waste. "No, no, just trust me on this," you insist.

Arthur raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your enthusiasm. "Alright… I trust you," he says with a smile, willing to go along with your plan.

With a grin, you take Arthur's hand and lead him towards the side entrance of the museum. As you walk, you quickly glance at your phone to confirm the last-minute plans one final time, the ones you made on the subway over, sending a quick text message. Then, slipping your phone back into your pocket, you look up to flash Arthur a smile, and he returns it with warmth in his eyes.

You head to the side entrance and spot your friend. Waving enthusiastically, you exchange greetings and shake hands, expressing your gratitude once again. "Thank you again, I owe you big time," you say appreciatively.

"Not a problem at all," your friend responds warmly as he lets the two of you in "Anything for a friend. Just make sure to leave before 8 p.m."

You nod in agreement and turn to Arthur, excitement bubbling within you as you lead him inside. His curious gaze prompts you to explain the situation. "That guy was an old graduate advisor of mine," you begin, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "He's works here as a curator now."

Arthur's eyes widen with interest as he looks around, taking in the museum's atmosphere. "I have to say… that’s quite impressive," he remarks, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Yeah, his job's pretty cool," you reply, nodding in agreement.

But Arthur interrupts you before you can say anything further. "No, not that… you. You are quite surprising… in a good way," he adds with a playful smirk, his hand still holding yours. You feel a blush creeping up to your cheeks at his compliment.

You chuckle softly, feeling shy at his words, "Just give me more time to impress you further with my wildly interesting mind," you playfully quip, unable to contain the grin that spreads across your face.

Arthur's smile widens in response, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he admires your playful banter.

Turning away to hide your embarrassment, you reply, "Anyways, we have two hours now… best not waste any time," as you pull him towards the main hall.

The museum is bathed in the soft glow of a few lights, casting a gentle ambiance over the now empty hall. Excitement courses through you as you eagerly lead Arthur around, pointing out each exhibit with enthusiasm. Arthur listens intently, his eyes filled with genuine interest as he witnesses how passionate you sound.

With each second passing, he finds himself increasingly impressed by just how intelligent you are, finding himself melting at each of your words.

He often found himself just looking at you, mesmerized by your beauty, and sometimes forgetting to even glance at the displays. It still felt surreal to him that you were here with him right now.

"You know," you share, a hint of nostalgia coloring your voice, "when I was a kid, my dad used to bring me here whenever he had work in the city. He’d always bring me along with him."

"It's always been one of my favorite places in London," you conclude with a smile.

Arthur smiles warmly, his admiration evident as he responds, "I can see why."

As the two of you continue to explore the halls, the world outside the museum fades away, leaving you in your own private sanctuary. Stolen glances, brushes of hands, and a shared electricity fill the air, making this the most enjoyable date you've ever had.

As the evening progresses, you find yourselves completely immersed in each other's company, sharing stories and laughing without a care in the world. Arthur's admiration for you grows with each passing moment, his heart feeling lighter in your presence. Lost in the magic of the moment, you both find yourselves laughing and running around the museum halls, creating memories that will last a lifetime. Arthur captures candid photos of you, the echoes of your laughter filling the empty corridors.

Caught up in the magic of the moment, Arthur can't help but stare at you with admiration, his eyes drinking in your beauty. You stand before a display of jade artifacts, leaning closer to examine the intricate details, while sharing a story about a similar find or an excavation you volunteered on last year. "This is fascinating, isn’t it?" you remark, turning to Arthur with a sparkle in your eyes.

As you await his response, you're met with a lingering gaze, his eyes intense and unwavering. Feeling a warmth spread across your cheeks, you can't help but inquire with a small chuckle, "What?"

"You know," he begins, his voice soft with sincerity, "you're absolutely stunning."

You chuckle at his compliment, feeling a warm blush spread across your cheeks. "Oh, stop it," you tease, playfully nudging him. "You're not so bad yourself."

His gaze remains fixed on you, his expression filled with genuine affection. "I mean it," he insists, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're truly amazing."

You meet his gaze, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest. "Well, I guess I can't argue with that," you joke, a playful grin tugging at the corners of your lips. "But I must say, you're not so bad at dishing out compliments either." You pause, your tone softening. "Thanks, Arthur."

Arthur smiles warmly, his eyes reflecting the sincerity of his words. "Anytime," he replies, his hand squeezing yours gently. "I just call it like I see it."

With a contented sigh, you fully face him now, reveling in the comfortable silence that envelops you both. The quiet of the museum amplifies the intimacy of the moment, and you find yourself drawn to Arthur, his presence filling you with warmth and affection.

Arthur leans in closer, his heart pounding in his chest as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. As he pulls away slightly, his breath tickling your skin.

You smile back at him, your cheeks flushed as your hand finds the back of his head, gently pulling him closer. As your lips meet his, you eagerly return the kiss, losing yourself in the sensation of his lips against yours. In that moment, nothing else matters, not caring about the passing time or potential interruptions.

As you reluctantly pull away, a soft smile plays on your lips. "It's getting late," you murmur, glancing at your watch. "A lot later than we were supposed to stay."

Arthur rests his forehead against yours, smiling down at you. "Okay, let's head back," he suggests, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment.

"But hey, how about we grab dinner on the way back?" you suggest, a playful glint lighting up Arthur's eyes as he nods eagerly.

With a smile, you reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers as you make your way out of the museum. As you walk, you take a moment to text your friend, expressing your gratitude for letting the two of you sneak in and apologizing for overstaying your welcome.

-------⋆✧⋆-------

After leaving the museum, the two of you walked a few blocks to a cozy restaurant nearby, to grab some food before you sadly had to end your date. The warm glow of the restaurant's interior welcomed you as you stepped inside, finding a quiet corner to enjoy your meal together.

As you savored each bite and shared lighthearted conversation, it became evident that neither of you were quite ready to end the evening just yet. With a reluctant sigh, you eventually found yourselves back in the lobby of your apartment building, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

The anticipation hung heavy in the air as you stood side by side, nerves buzzing beneath the surface. Unable to resist the urge any longer, you finally turned to Arthur, your voice tinged with nervousness. "Do you want to come back to mine?" you asked, your heart pounding in your chest.

Arthur's gaze met yours, his eyes reflecting a hint of apprehension. Slowly, he nodded his head, his own nerves evident.

He had been to your place before, but tonight felt different, the stakes somehow higher, or perhaps that was just the horny part of his brain taking over. He wanted nothing more than to be glued by your side, yet he also wanted to be respectful of your boundaries, especially after the wonderful time you had today.

A nervous chuckle escaped him as he tried to ease the tension. "I'd love to," he replied with a slight voice crack. You couldn't help but laugh, your laughter bubbling up uncontrollably, joined by his as you both shared in the moment, breaking the tension that had settled between you.

As soon as you and Arthur step into your apartment, the door closes behind you with a soft click, enveloping you both in the intimate glow of the dimly lit space. The air feels somewhat thicker, and though you had spent quite a cute and romantic evening, all you could think about was just how much you wanted him right now.

As if on autopilot, your body moves on its own accord. You close the distance between you in an instant, pressing your lips against his. Your hands instinctively find their way to his firm chest, while his slowly rise to grasp your waist, pulling you closer as you usher him further into the apartment. The kiss is hungry and urgent, reflecting the desire between you two.

You continue to kiss each other, your lips locked in a fervent kiss. Occasionally, you break apart just long enough to catch your breath. As the heat between you grows, your hands roam eagerly.

In the midst of your passionate exchange, you manage to breathe out a whispered "Bedroom," your warm breath grazing his skin, sending shivers down his spine. Without hesitation, you both stumble together towards the bedroom, both of you equally as eager.

Once you're in your bedroom, you guide him to sit on the edge of the bed, your movements fluid and confident. You position yourself between his legs, feeling the heat radiating from his body as his hands find their place on your hips, pulling you closer.

You lean in, capturing his lips again, igniting a fiery passion between you. His hands trail up the back of your shirt, leaving tingles in their wake as you deepen the kiss, your fingers tangling in his soft, fluffy hair.

With newfound boldness, his hands move down to your ass, giving it a teasing squeeze that sends a jolt of electricity through you, before he trails his hands down to the back of your thighs.

Arthur pulls you onto his lap, a low hum escaping his lips as you shuffle over his growing arousal. You bite down on his bottom lip, a gasp escaping you as you feel the hardness beneath his clothes. "God, Arthur," you breathe out, your voice heavy with desire as his hands continue to knead the soft flesh of your thighs.

As your shirts come off in the heat of the moment, your hands eagerly explore his body, tracing every contour and eliciting soft groans from him. His mouth and tongue muffle your shuddering gasp as you grind yourself against his clothed crotch, the friction sending waves of pleasure coursing through both of you. Your kisses grow more passionate, tongues intertwining, exploring each other's mouths desperately.

You pant out his name, your body overtaken by the intense sensation, but Arthur suddenly pulls away from the kiss and grips your hips firmly, halting your movements. Confusion clouds your expression, wondering if this wasn't what he wanted after all.

He notices the flicker of self-doubt in your eyes, his hand instinctively reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his smile as reassuring as ever. "Don't worry, darling," he begins, his voice gentle yet earnest. "I love what we're doing, don’t get me wrong…big fan of sex, and you are incredibly sexy. But I just want to make sure you know that I like you very much, Y/n. I mean, really like you. This is more than just something physical for me. I love spending time with you, and I think you are one of the most beautiful women I have ever had the opportunity to lay my eyes on."

You melt at his heartfelt words, a blush creeping up on your cheeks at his sincerity. Arthur's genuine expression reassures you, his intent clear as day. It's endearing how he takes the time to ensure there's no doubt in your mind about his feelings.

You reach for his face, holding it gently between your hands as you stare deeply into his captivating eyes. "I really like you too, you know," you admit, sincerity echoing in your voice. "I don't just jump into bed with any odd guy." A smile dances on your lips as you share a brief moment of understanding, sealing it with a small kiss on the tip of his nose.

As you pull back, his fingers linger on your waist for a few seconds, sending goosebumps rippling across your skin in a sweet, tingling sensation.

As you resume kissing, your hands begin to trail down to the button of his trousers, starting to undo them. But once again, Arthur stops you, gently pulling away from your embrace. "Wait," he murmurs, his voice low and husky, "Lay down on your back for me."

You comply, as Arthur gently moves you off of him, the anticipation building as you settle onto the bed, watching intently as Arthur moves closer. With ease, he helps you slide off your jeans and panties, his touch sending tingles down your spine, each moment feeling more intimate than the last.

Once you're fully exposed before him, Arthur takes a moment to admire the sight before him, his gaze filled with desire and admiration. He begins to remove his own clothes, his movements deliberate yet filled with an undeniable hunger.

The atmosphere in the room shifted from one of urgency and desperation to something lighter and sweeter. He leaned over you, his touch gentle and reassuring as he positioned himself between your legs. With one hand resting softly on your hip and the other providing support beside you, he lowered his head to spread kisses along your body. Each touch of his lips spreads a heat throughout your body, making you even wetter than you already were.

As his lips found their way to your breast, a soft sigh escaped your lips. Arthur's mouth moved with a practiced rhythm, his movements calculated to elicit the sweetest of moans from you. With each kiss and gentle suckle, he drew out your pleasure, his touch igniting a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing moment.

His lips trailed from your breast to your neck, peppering delicate kisses along the sensitive skin. Finding a spot that made you gasp and arch your back, he lingered there, his ministrations drawing out a deep, primal moan from deep within you. He had surely left a mark, something that you would have to worry about covering up tomorrow.

Arthur shifts slightly, supporting himself as he rises, granting you an enticing view of his hard cock. With a few quick pumps of his hand, he looks at you, both your eyes glazed with undeniable lust. Without a word, he poses the question, "Condom?"

Your body slightly moves to the side and your hand reaches instinctively to the nightstand drawer, quickly retrieving a foil packet. You tear it open, pulling out the condom. As you carefully slide it down his throbbing length, a soft groan escapes him, his body responding eagerly to your gentle touch.

The anticipation hangs heavy in the air as the two of you lock eyes, dark with desire. You search his eyes for any hint of hesitation or doubt, but all you find is pure admiration reflected back at you. And in that moment, there was no need for words, you knew how much you craved each other.

He gently rubs the tip of his cock against you. Your eyes shut tight, a soft moan escaping your lips as you feel the sensation of his cock exploring your wet folds.

Arthur's voice breaks through the haze of desire as he asks, "Ready?" You nod eagerly in response, your body craving the intimate connection that only he can provide. With a gentle thrust, he enters you, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips. Your hands instinctively grip his shoulders for support, while his hands firmly grasp your hips, guiding each rhythmic movement with care.

You pant out his name between breathy moans, the sound reverberating in the air as he continues to thrust into you. "Arthur," you gasp.

He pauses, his movements slowing, and he looks down at you with genuine concern. "Is this okay?" he asks softly, his eyes searching yours for any hint of discomfort. In that moment, the connection between you felt deeper than mere physicality and it all started to feel more intimate and meaningful.

He waits for your response, his breath mingling with yours as he gazes into your eyes. When you nod in affirmation, a wave of relief washes over his face. With a tender smile, he resumes his movements, each stroke of his cock against you more passionate and deliberate than the last.

Arthur murmurs, "Y/N, you feel absolutely amazing, darling," as he grunts with each slow thrust, a subtle force behind each movement now, hitting your sweet spot deliciously.

You grip his shoulders tighter, your voice a low moan. "Fuck, Arthur."

Your moans and grunts intertwine, echoing throughout the empty apartment as the two of you become lost in each other.

Arthur rests his forehead against yours, his movements still steady as he continues to pleasure you. A soft smile graces his lips as he whispers, "You're so beautiful, Y/N," planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Your mind swims in a sea of pleasure, every sensation heightened as you surrender to the moment.

Arthur maintains his pace, gradually speeding up as the intensity between you heightens. Each movement feels like a perfect fit, as if your bodies were made to intertwine in this exact moment. As you feel your orgasm approaching, you can't help but release a string of uncontrollable moans, "Shit, Arthur, I'm close."

Arthur slows his pace slightly, his thrusts becoming deeper and more intense with each movement. You can feel him filling you completely, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. "Me too," he responds breathlessly, his arousal evident in his voice, matching the urgency in yours.

Moments later, Arthur reaches his peak, his release triggering your own. You cry out into the crook of his neck as waves of ecstasy wash over you, your bodies trembling in the aftermath of shared pleasure.

Both of you are left as absolute panting messes, your bodies still intertwined. His lips move across your face, peppering tender kisses everywhere, trailing down to your neck where he places a kiss at the mark he had previously left.

Gently, he pulls out of you and excuses himself momentarily. He returns with a wet towel from the bathroom, carefully cleaning you up before tossing the towel aside. A gentle peck on your lips follows, his affectionate gesture speaking volumes.

Settling into the spot next to you, he pulls you onto his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around you. "I'm so lucky to have met you," he murmurs softly, his words laced with sincerity. He places a sweet peck on your forehead, feeling the weight of the day finally catch up with you as sleep begins to overtake you.

You snuggle closer, a contented smile gracing your lips. "No you have no idea how lucky I am," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. With a final sigh of contentment, you drift off into a peaceful slumber in his embrace, the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a deep sleep.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺��✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N: Thanks again to everyone who sends in requests. I appreciate all of you so much. I have about 6 works in my drafts right now that I am working on getting out as quickly as possible.

Check out my other fics and oneshots here. Not working on any new requests currently but feel free to drop into my asks for a chat! 😊