#sophia scenarios

[nakylvr]

Hello, could you do a one shot of Sophia from Katseye with a female reader? They are in the same group and like each other, but they never admit it, until one day when something happens in which Sophia gets jealous of the reader with some boy, and then declares herself afraid of losing her.

this was so fun to write, thank you so much for requesting! 🫶

— I LIKE YOU (I DO)

sophia laforteza (katseye) x fem!reader

summary: dealing with a crush in the same group is hard. dealing with the jealousy that comes with it is also hard. which is why sophia confesses out of fear.

warnings/tags: language, fluff, jealous!sophia, mutual pining, 7th member!reader, confessions

wc: 3,0k

main masterlist | katseye masterlist

Debuting was a dream come true. After dealing with two years of training and a survival show, you felt as if everything had worked out just the way it was intended to. You were close with all the girls that had debuted with you into the group and believed there was nothing that could go wrong from there. That was, except for the crush you had. 

You thought it was silly in the beginning, that it wouldn’t become anything too serious. You were with the other trainees since the beginning of the program, and grew extremely close to all of them. However, you realized within a few months that your “silly crush” was no longer silly anymore. It’s not like it was your fault! How could anyone not develop a crush on Sophia Laforteza? Still, you thought you were partially insane for it. 

The only thing you didn’t notice was Sophia’s feelings towards you were the same. 

Sophia felt like she had been shot in the chest when she was bluntly told by Daniela that it was obvious she had feelings for you. The “duh, it’s obvious” made her start panicking at the thought of being obvious about liking someone while being oblivious about it herself.  There was no way, in her mind at least. But, when she was told it she did realize it made sense, even if she didn’t notice the things she did herself. 

While Sophia was one of the older sister-like figure for most of the girls, it was noticeable that she would spend more of her time with you. If you were having a rough time during practice she would be there reassuring you and helping you with each step, when you weren’t practicing she was essentially always by your side, even if it was just sitting on the couch, Sophia made sure every time that she was the one sitting next to you, and if any of the other girls did she would throw a fit until one of them moved. She cooked for all the girls, but if you two were up in the middle of the night in the dorm she would make you food that was from your culture depending on what was in the dorm at the time. You two weren’t roommates, but the girls have multiple pictures of her making her way into your room to lay down with you and fall asleep that neither of you know about nor have seen. 

And yet, neither of you said anything. Both of you were too scared to do anything. It made sense. There was the initial fear of liking another person, then the fear of dealing with being in the same group as said person, and the many different outcomes that could come from it. Additionally, neither of you would ever believe the other reciprocated those feelings. 

You learned fairly quickly after debuting that Sophia could become jealous of when others would be around you, but you thought it was merely platonic and the sisterly love she had for all the girls in the group. You wouldn’t call yourself oblivious, but apparently, you were if you couldn’t figure this out. But, then again. There were a few times that made you start wondering about certain things. 

The first instance was when you were in Korea for the survival show, and she wakes you up in the middle of the night to go to a convenience store. 

“Psst, Yn, are you awake?” 

The answer was yes. You had been awake for the past two hours trying to get to sleep, so when you heard Sophia’s hushed voice ask you that question in the dark, you immediately responded. “Yeah.” You open your eyes to see Sophia crouching in front of your bed, the hood of her hoodie over her head and a small smile on her face as she hears you reply. 

“Do you want to go to a convenience store with me?” Sophia asks you. 

You can tell by the look on her face that she wants you to say yes, her eyes wide and filled with anticipation of your answer, the small smile on her face, and it’s what wins you over in the end despite your tiredness and dreading schedules for the next few days. “Yeah, sure,” You answer with a nod. “What time is it?” You ask, sitting up and rubbing your eyes with your hands. 

“It is…” Sophia’s voice trails off as she pulls her phone out of her pocket and looks at the time. “1:42!” She answers, showing you the phone. 

“Why are you even awake at this hour?” You ask her while yawning, grabbing your phone off the charger and swinging your legs over the bed, scooting yourself closer to the edge. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Sophia shrugs, standing up. “Plus, I’m really hungry and want ramen.” She finishes with a smile. 

You let out a quiet chuckle and nod your head. “Yeah, that makes sense,” You say, getting up off your bed. “Give me a minute to get ready, I look like a mess right now,” You add, running a hand through your hair to try and fix what you know is a mess. 

“You look perfect,” Sophia responds the second after you speak without a hint of hesitation. It's too dark for you to see the blush make its way onto her face when she realizes those words actually came out instead of just staying in her head, but you're also grateful for the darkness as it hid your own flushed face. “I-I’ll be in the living room. Just come out when you're ready,” She says after a moment of silence, trying not to sound panicked but her stammering is noticeable. Within another second, Sophia hurries out of the room quietly, shutting the door behind her and going to sit down on the couch. 

You have no time to respond before Sophia is out of the room leaving you back in the darkness. You can’t lie to yourself and say that hearing those words from her made you feel warm inside because it did. Even if it wasn’t meant to be taken that way, it was still nice to have it be said while looking like a zombie half-awake at one in the morning. All you do to get changed is fix your hair, put a beanie on to cover the top, and put on a pair of slip-on shoes before leaving the room quietly. When you enter the living room, Sophia is sitting on the couch with her phone in her hands, looking at it so intently that she doesn’t even notice you walking up to her until you are standing right in front of her and speaking. 

“Wow, for someone who woke me up at one in the morning, you sure aren’t paying attention to me, huh?” 

Sophia’s head shoots up from her phone and a smile immediately makes its way onto her face. “Sorry, I was looking at something,” She replies. 

“Something important enough for me to go back to sleep?” You say with a short chuckle. 

“Nope!” Sophia shakes her head and quickly stands up. “Come on, let’s go!” She grabs your hand and starts walking to the front door. 

You let her drag your tired body to the front door and leave the house. You had your hood over your head like Sophia as you two started walking down the streets of Seoul to find a convenience store. You don’t even realize her hand is still holding onto yours until you glance down to look at the time on your watch, and a blush forms on your face, but you don’t do anything as you let your other hand fall back down to your side. 

After around ten minutes of talking whilst walking the streets, Sophia eventually spotted a convenience store and dragged you inside along with her. You felt an odd sense of relief when she let go of your hand finally, but you also wished she held onto it longer. But, again, you didn’t say anything as you two walked inside the small store. 

You absentmindedly follow Sophia as she roams the store looking through each of the small aisles of snacks. You stop in a random aisle and let Sophia walk off in another direction, grabbing a chocolate bar before continuing on your way to where Sophia was. You turn the corner to see her ripping open a package of ramen and you silently walk up behind her, peering over her shoulder. 

“Which one did you choose?” 

“Jesus Christ!” Sophia jumps, turning to look at you. “You scared the shit out of me!” 

“Sorry,” You smile innocently at her. 

Seeing your smile has all the (petty) anger fading from Sophia’s body the second she sees it. She couldn’t lie, she did love your smile. It’s just she wished they were directed towards her more, even if there was already more to her than the other girls. She doesn’t even notice she’s staring until you point at the package in her hands. 

“You know that’s like, super spicy, right?” You ask her. 

“Huh?” She lets out, not hearing what you said due to being stuck in her thoughts and staring. “Oh! I think I’ll be fine,” She shakes her head, turning back to the machine that dispensed the hot water. 

“That’s what you say now,” You say, grabbing a package of ramen and one of the plastic bowls. You rip open the package with your teeth and pour the contents into the bowl, not noticing Sophia’s gaze on you out of the corner of her eye while you move. 

The two of you watch the water pour into both of the bowls and you yawn, covering your mouth with your hand and rubbing your eyes with your other hand. 

“You should get an energy drink,” Sophia says. 

“I’ll be alright,” You reply. “Plus, I’m used to Redbulls.” 

“Redbulls,” Sophia shakes her head mumbling to herself. “Those things are so bad.” 

“I just like the strawberry apricot flavor,” You shrug your shoulders, grabbing the bowl from the dispenser and covering it with its top. “All the other flavors are shitty.” 

“They’re all shitty, Yn,” Sophia retorts, grabbing her bowl and sitting down at the little 2-person table. 

“Not the strawberry apricot,” You respond, sitting down in front of her. 

“Sure, sure,” She replies sarcastically while nodding her head. 

There’s a moment of silence that fills the space between you two and the small table, and you’re not sure what to say. You’re so awkward with Sophia outside of practice and the dorms that going out in the middle of the night with her feels weird now that it’s just the two of you alone. It’s not an awkward silence, it’s calming given the chaos you were thrown into daily with the program. But, you don’t know what to say. Maybe there isn’t anything to be said in the first place, you’re not completely sure. All you know is that this isn’t so bad, spending time alone with her without the other girls nearby. Looking at it now, you two look like a couple going to a place this late into the night just for some ramen. The thought made your face flush, and you look down at the table trying to not show it. 

“Are you okay?” Sophia questions once you randomly look down. 

“Yeah,” You nod your head, looking back up and at her. “I was just thinking,” You reply. 

Your words have Sophia raising one of her eyebrows, looking at you with an expression you hadn’t seen on her before. “About what?” She asks another question. 

The new look she’s giving you has you not knowing what to say. You could lie and say you were thinking about something totally different or, you could tell the truth and lowkey admit your crush on her. You can tell she’s anticipating your answer, and you stumble out words before you can even think over them and determine if you should say them. “I was just thinking about how we kinda look like a couple going out alone like this.” 

Sophia’s eyes widen for a split second before they return to normal, which you fail to notice, and she isn’t sure how to respond. She’s always known what to say and how to respond to things, but for some reason, she’s struggling right now. But, she tries her best to not show it. “Yeah, we kinda do, don’t we?” She replies, tilting her head slightly and smiling. “You don’t feel weird about that?” 

Her response along with her smile has the prominent blush on your face growing bigger, and you shake your head at her question. “No,” You answer. “Do-” You clear your throat out of nervousness. “Do you?” 

“No,” Sophia immediately answers, shaking her head with the smile not leaving her face. 

You weren't really sure what that meant in the moment, but when you two returned to the house you found yourself unable to sleep due to the thoughts running through your mind of what it could possibly mean. But, you didn't voice these thoughts out loud ever. Except to Megan, who insisted that it was obvious, Sophia liked you as well. 

Once the realization dawned on you that surely, Sophia liked you back, you felt a whole assortment of feelings that you didn't know what to do about. You didn't want to confess, because of the possibility that you were wrong, accidentally mistaking the kindness for liking you. But, you were having a hard time keeping it inside at the same time. 

You ended up keeping it inside the whole time. Throughout the program, throughout debuting, you didn't say a word. You couldn't. You didn't want to ruin everything that was built just because you ended up developing a silly crush on her. You weren't stupid enough to do that. 

In the end, it was Sophia who confessed first. 

It was an off day after months of schedules after officially debuting, and you and Sophia were doing a Target run to get groceries for the dorm. She had left you with the cart while she went further down the aisle to get something, leaving you standing there tapping your hand on the cart to a random song. 

You heard your name from behind you, and you turned your head to see one of your old friends walking up to you. A smile instantly grows on your face seeing him walk up to you. 

“Jax! I haven't seen you in forever!” You say smiling, hugging him as he walks up to you. 

“How are you doing?” He asks you once he pulls out of the hug. “You’re like, famous now,” He laughs lightly.

“I’m good!” You answer, giggling softly at his second sentence. “I’m not famous yet, Jax. I just debuted.” You shake your head. “But uh, it's something.”

“Mm?” He hums, tilting his head to the side. “What do you mean?” He questions.

“Nothing,” You shake your head again. “Don't worry about-” You stop your words when you hear footsteps approaching from behind and stopping next to you. 

“Sorry, no pictures,” Sophia says while putting the items in the cart, putting her hand up.

“Oh, I’m not a-”

“Sorry, we have to get going now,” She cuts him off before he can finish. “Come on,” She grabs your hand and starts walking away.

“Sophia, what the hell?” You instantly say when she stops halfway across the store. “He was my friend.” You pry your hand out of her grip. 

“I don't like him,” She responds, shaking her head. 

“What?” You question. “Okay, so? I haven't seen him for months! And you just dragged me off! You can't just do that!”

Sophia shakes her head again, not knowing what to do. She acted without thinking, she rarely does that. Now she got herself stuck in a situation not knowing how to handle it. You're clearly irritated judging by the look on your face, and she's contemplating just outright saying the reason she did it, the reason she did everything when it came to you. “I-” She starts, but you're quick to cut her off.

“You're what?” You cross your arms over your chest. “You’ve been acting weird ever since the debut, hell, since the lineup was announced! Part of me is starting to think you secretly hate me or something!”

“What?” Sophia lets out, looking at you like you just said something insane. “No, no, no, no, I don't hate you!” She says quickly, panicking truly for once in her life. “Yn, you have to understand I can't-”

“Understand what, Sophia? That-”

“I have feelings for you!” Sophia raises her voice to speak over you, her face immediately turning red when she realizes what she said. “I mean, I, uhm,” She stammers out as the look on your face changes and you take a step towards her.

“Are you serious?” You question seriously. “Please don't be lying to me right now.”

“I’m serious,” She answers quietly. “I know it's not-” She stops abruptly when you cup her face in your hands, staring at you with wide eyes. 

There's a moment of silence that lingers in the air as you two stare at each other, before you hesitantly start leaning closer to her. You stop, hesitating again with your lips merely inches away from hers, trying to see in her eyes if she really wanted this. Before you can do anything else, Sophia closes the gap and kisses you. It's quick as she pulls away, smiling at you with you smiling back.

“You don't have a clue how much I’ve wanted that to happen,” You admit shamelessly. 

“Mm, I had a feeling,” She says jokingly. 

“Oh really?” You reply in the same tone, tilting your head to the side.

“Yeah, Dani claimed it was ‘obvious’ to everyone else,” She nods.

“I’m so going to kill her when we get back,” You grumble out.

“Oh be quiet, it's cause of her this happened anyways,” Sophia pats your head gently. “You can kill her later.”

“Fine.”

[hood-ex]

Just thinking about how interesting things would've been if Dick had met Olivia (Blockbuster's daughter) after Chemo destroyed Bludhaven, and if he took Sophia and Olivia in during that time. The three of them would've had that shared trauma of Chemo and losing everything. Plus then you've got Dick having to take care of a kid who is completely innocent, but who happens to be the kid of the man who destroyed his life.

A vigilante, a mob boss's daughter, and a crime lord's daughter. You're seeing the potential of this combo, right? Right.

[hugsforaerix]

❀ your instagram stories if you would be a member of katseye!

-i know they dont post a lot of stories, but i had the mood to make this 😜 also i tried to save pictures that are kinda similar to the members but uhm maybe they aren't-

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

I've got a more wholesome and simple request this time How would the SVE marriagables react to the Farmer telling them that they want to start a family (aka have kids with them)? And how quickly would they wanna "get to work" after the Farmer suggested it?

"Get to work", huh... 🌚

I have to say, I was a little hesitant about whether to make Farmer someone specific here. But in the end I decided to make Farmer as neutral as possible. Thank you so much for your question and enjoy 💕

SVE bachelors/ettes react to the Farmer telling them that they want to start a family (have kids with them):

_________________________________________

Magnus Rasmodius:

Yoba have mercy, Magnus has mixed emotions after Farmer said the word 'children'.... Technically, Magnus already has a daughter, but the wizard never took part in raising her. He blamed himself for the mistakes of his youth and no longer believed he would find happiness. But the beautiful Farmer appeared in his life, love, wedding, and now... This time, Magnus will do the right thing. Wizard finally believe he deserves another chance at a happy life and he'll do everything he can to be a wonderful husband to Farmer and a wonderful father to his and their children. No mistakes, not a step backwards. To his bedroom! Erm, that was too rush, wasn't it?

Victor:

"I've waited a long time for this moment... Honey, we'll get to it right now." *winks* "Wait for me here, dear...." *returns with a pile of books from the bookcase* "So, let's start with the 'everything for expectant parents' book...." If the Farmer was expecting, ahem, 'practice in the bedroom', well... they'll get it, but a little later. Victor decided to familiarise himself with the theory of starting a family first, to get it right, and then move on to the practice. He wants everything to go smoothly and safely for both of them. Such an exciting moment for Victor. Don't worry, Farmer, he will organise everything. I think they'll start in a month.

Lance:

*Chuckle* "What a coincidence, I just wanted to discuss this with you." Lance had been thinking about having a baby for a while now, but first the adventurer wanted to talk about his and Farmer's time management. After all, the baby would need all of parents' attention, and with the adventurer's responsibilities (Farmer + their basic farming duties) that could be problematic. However, when Farmer and Lance have discussed important questions, the pink-haired man will smile genuinely at Farmer and shower them with kisses. And then picks Farmer up in his arms and carries them to the bedroom, "to do his conjugal duty."

Sophia:

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep?! Wait, no- I mean yes! I want kids! I mean... Right now?" Poor Sophia, she's red as a tomato, the question caught her off guard. In fact, she had been thinking about becoming a mum for a long time, but couldn't bring herself to bring it up with Farmer. But her spouse was ahead of the uncertain girl. The preparation itself will not begin immediately - the girl wants to anticipate everything. Special books and courses on what to do during pregnancy/what documents to prepare for adoption, prepare the house, prepare herself... It will take several months for sure, because Sophia takes it very seriously, and even though she is worried, the pink-haired girl knows that with her beloved Farmer they can do anything.

Claire:

"Kids? Oh, I don't even know..." Don't get Claire wrong - she would love to be a mother. It's just that weddings, fitting into a new community, moving to the farm and adapting to a new life - Claire is just getting used to it, and wouldn't want to rush things. And the ballet fan is very grateful that her spouse turned out to be an understanding person. In her spare time, Claire will be watching videos on the internet or reading articles useful for parents. For now, Claire and Farmer will slowly but surely prepare the house for a new family member, and in about six months she is ready to conceive a child/sign all the adoption papers.

Olivia:

Olivia knows exactly what to do when having a baby. After all, she'd already raised one child, her precious son, and she still remembered the right way to start. Only Olivia didn't know if her Farmer would share the idea of having children, but she's happy that Farmer was the first to broach the subject. In the case of pregnancy, they'd get started right away. If the case of adoption, that wise woman would first study what documents are needed to draw up the adoption so that there are no problems later in the process. Olivia won't forget to share funny stories from Victor's childhood, which will have wisdom and advice for Farmer as a future parent. How excited she is, very excited!

[triciabeloved]

the siblings!!!!!! + some family stuff with their parents

[skibasyndrome]

something has happened and now I DESPERATELY want to write some he/they/she Wille fic???

[sirnlish]

Sophia Jordan & Andre DaSilva | Finding Love After Breakup 💕

[nofuckingbody]

i love you im sorry but man those lyrics are about a friendship

[allovertheplace-writing]

Hello, hello! Welcome to my Stardew Valley masterlist! Make sure to check my pinned post for request info <3

Not all characters I write for are listed here, by the way!

   ➢ Multiple

   ➢ Sebastian

Headcanon - With a Spouse That Holds in Their Emotions (Comfort)

   ➢ Sam

   ➢ Victor

Headcanon - With a Rich yet Closed Off Reader (Fluff)

   ➢ Sophia

   ➢ Haley

♧ Thank You for Reading ♧

         ♡ Send in an Ask if You Want ♡

  ☆ Do Not Copy, Repost, Edit, or Translate my Work ☆

[whump-in-the-coffee-cup]

Headcanons II

ORIGINAL POST  // AO3 VERSION

These are headcanons I have made for The Walten Files, an analog horror series on YT. It’s short, but effective in its horror, as well as whump since it distances itself from the usual animatronic-is-the-cause-of-horror, and has a foundation of human error and mistakes to create horror.

Below the cut is where it starts — CONTENT WARNINGS: car accident leading to death, children death, burying dead bodies while alive, violence, alcohol addiction, death/MCD (brief comfort is covered and included)

🐇 Ed and Molly held hands often, even in their deaths, they held hands. (It greatly added to the unforgettable mental image that stuck to Felix, he still couldn’t shake off the fact the kids were comforting each other. He would say they were inseparable, but he didn’t want to add salt to his mental wounds.)

🐇 Edd tried to rescue Molly amidst the crash, like he knew they were going to die and he desperately wanted Molly to be safe, so he unbuckled himself and flew in between Felix’s seat and Molly. However, he was crushed by the weight of the driver’s seat on his back. Molly was left still conscious, screaming for Edd to wake up.

🐇 Rosemary was just as distraught as Jack was when Jack kept sending voicemails to Felix. She couldn’t talk to Jack or Sophie for days. She lost the motivation to make proper meals and had to serve take-out frequently. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t terrified of Jack, of how he progressively got louder and louder in the voicemails.

🐇 When Jack didn’t leave his office for days for being caught up with work, Rosemary would come in with a healthy meal, plus some coffee or tea and Jack would just collapse in her arms in temporary relief from the stress.

🐇 Felix had extreme trouble sleeping during the days after Ed and Molly died. He couldn’t bring himself to drink when he was still in shock. The details of the days just blurred but he managed to count a little over a week until he started drinking again.

🐇 Felix always kept a shovel in his car, to bury the bottles he has in the car before he reaches home. He and Linda always got into arguments the moment she learns about the addiction, Felix buries the bottle to at least still keep Linda in his life.

🐇 Felix didn’t bury the kids with a shovel. He buried them with his bare hands out of extreme grief. (Unbeknownst to him, the kids were still alive. Screaming for him to call Jack or some help. But no, he continued to bury them.) He had to walk home without the car, most of his belongings, and especially the belongings of the kids. No one on the road questioned a bloody, soil-ridden, tattered man walking from the forest. The truck that hit him just went on their day.

the walten filestwftwf headcanonheadcanonstwf storytwf writingwhump writingwhumpjack waltenmolly waltenrosemary waltensophie waltenedd waltenfelix krankenlinda thompsonjenny letterson

[nakylvr]

heyy, how r u doing?? since you write g!p could we get some g!p!dom!sophia?? thanks a lot!

well yes 😋 thank you for requesting 🫶

— WANTED YOU

sophia laforteza (katseye) x fem!reader

warnings/tags: language, nsfw content, g!p!sophia, dom!sophia, sub!reader, unprotected sex, shes kinda mean sorry, size kink, creampie

main masterlist | katseye masterlist

minors do not interact

"awe, baby, you're so cute."

you let out a whimper at sophia's words, staring up at her while she sits on her knees in front of you, you trying to keep your eyes open like she told you to.

"how am i gonna fit in your pretty little pussy?" she says teasingly. she's rubbing the tip of her cock up and down your slit, occasionally pushing in just enough for you to feel it before pulling back out immediately. she's already been at this for a while, and you know she's enjoying teasing you by the look in her eyes as she watches you fall apart under her.

"please stop teasing," you get out through heavy breaths.

sophia fake pouts at your words. "oh, but i thought we were going slow like you wanted? you're the one who said i was too big to manon, right?" her voice is laced with condescension as she talks to you, almost mocking you in a way.

the way she's talking has you letting out another whimper. you should've known saying something like that would only result in this. the thing was, it was partially true. considering you had only given her blowjobs and couldn't nearly fit all of her in your mouth, you think you had a right to say you thought she was too big to actually fuck you. that being said, you didn't think it would end up like this. "please," you whine.

hearing your plea has a smile forming on sophia's face, and she doesn't say anything as she slowly pushes her tip into you. her eyes stare down at the way your pussy swallows her cock inch by inch, glancing at you when she hears your breathing get heavier. her hands grab your hips, pulling you closer to her as she sheaths herself completely inside you. "you tell me when you want me to move," she says to you.

your jaw falls open as soon as you feel her slowly push inside of you, your hands grabbing at the sheets under you in an attempt to ground yourself from the initial pain of the stretch. after a few moments, you let out a shaky breath. "please move."

sophia's hands gently rub your hips as she watches you take her fully, the smile on her face still there, and growing bigger when she gets the okay to move. she slowly pulls halfway out and pushes back into you, groaning quietly at the way your walls clench around her as she builds a slow pace.

a few whimpers along with curses leave your lips at the slow pace sophia is going, and your eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of her long, veiny cock moving in you. "too slow," you mumble out.

sophia's head tilts to the side at your words. "oh? then i guess i'll have to change that," she replies. she pulls you impossibly closer to her by your hips, her nails digging into your skin as she pulls out of you and slams back into you, grinning at the sharp gasp you let out as she does so. "i want you to be as loud as you can be, understand?"

"mhm," you nod your head.

"words."

"y-yes," you say, nodding again. "please just fuck me."

sophia doesn't respond this time, and instead just starts pounding into you at such a fast pace like it was nothing. you throw your head back against the pillow, moans spilling from your mouth while your hands grip the sheets beneath you tight enough to nearly rip them. your eyes close again despite your attempts at keeping them open, too caught up in everything you were feeling.

"fuck," sophia breaths out, watching you fall apart under her. "it's like you were made to take my cock. look at you," she says through panting. her nails dig into your skin as her hips snap against yours, keeping her fast pace. she glances down and sees your belly bulging in the outline of her cock, and she moves one of her hands to press down on it, grinning at the moan you let out. "awe, is my cock too big for you, baby? i can barely even fit, just look at you."

you can barely process her words, the condescending tone back in her voice as loud moans and whines leave your mouth. with the way she's pressing down on your stomach, you're sure there's a bulge and that's why she's saying it, and you can hardly make out any words to respond with. "f-fuck, you're so big," you whine, your hips starting to move to meet her thrusts.

your words have sophia swelling with pride and her cock twitches inside of you. she's grinning down at you with a dark look in her eyes as her hips stutter for a moment when you clench around her and she lets out a low groan. "you just love it, don't you, baby? you love this big cock?"

"yes!" you gasp out. her words have you getting impossibly close to cumming, the feeling building in the pit of your stomach. "i'm gonna cum!"

sophia could tell you were close before you said it, feeling the way your walls were clenching around her cock every other moment. she can feel her own orgasm approaching, and her thrusting is becoming more out of pace with quiet whimpers leaving her mouth every time she feels you clench around her. "fuck...wh-where hngh do you want me?"

you can feel her cock twitch again, knowing she's just as close as you are. it takes you a few seconds to answer her question, the sound of her desperate voice and the look on her face results in you answering in another gasp. "in me!"

sophia's eyes go wide at your response, but she is ecstatic on the inside. her hands grip your hips tightly as her thrusts become more desperate and erratic. your whines and moans are so loud she's sure she'll likely get a noise complaint, but she doesn't care as she leans towards you, mumbling "cum for me, baby." before kissing you.

your hands immediately grasp at her back when she finally gets closer to you, and you moan into the kiss. one more thrust and you were cumming all over her cock. parting from the kiss to breath as your eyes roll back and your back arches up into her. it doesn't take much longer for sophia to cum after you, letting out a whiny moan into your neck as she releases inside of you, her hips stilling to a stop.

you both pant heavily in silence for a moment before she slowly pulls out of you and lays on the bed beside you. her arms wrap around you and pull you close to her as she moves your hair out of your face.

"you okay?" she asks softly.

"yeah," you answer with a short nod.

"i love you," she says quietly, a smile on her face.

"i love you too," you reply, a smile on your own face.

[maideninorange]

The witch gave her a sad smile from her towering makeshift throne, "And who exactly can fault them for that? I crossed the boundary between human and inhuman. Mortal and immortal. Mage and witch. It wasn't my decision, sure, but it was my decision to throw my lot in with the fairies responsible, now wasn't it?"

Sophia took a step back. The little monsters with vines for skin and flowers for hair follow her every move. As if waiting for the moment their queen ordered them to strike her down. The worn, dusty leather bound journal in her hands shook like a leaf, and not just from the awe of being before a witch, and a powerful one at that.

She shuddered under their gaze for the knowledge of this witch and the old journal she held being one and the same.

The witch's gaze trailed downward, eyeing the book in her hands, "Ah, so that's where that one went. You were the one I found it, I take it?"

Sophia couldn't do anything but nod, her teeth clenched to the point it hurt. What else could she do? She had assumed the owner was a dead human. An odd human who commanded flower fairies against all the warnings within against interacting with Creatures, sure, but a human all the sames. Not this Creature in a human shape, vines wrapping all around pale skin and a flower blooming from her throat like a mended wound.

"Did you get to the section on witches?" She asked like Sophia hadn't taken it upon herself to read every word even when mocked for it. It was why she survived to be granted sanctuary into the witch's domain, whereas Sherry and Jackson quite literally fell prey to the monsters that lurk throughout this endless labyrinth of a forest, and why she knew better than to trust any guide that isn't the Creature at the center to guide her out unlike Mac.

"Then you'd know that witches, despite being born from humans, are not actually human themselves. There is no such thing as a human purview, and believe me I checked!" A forced laugh, more like the mocking of a child self than at anything resembling a joke, "The moment my fairies decided to pour all their magic into my dying body, I had stopped being human. I am just as much a Creature as those in that book you hold."

The witch stood up then, stalking lower, closer, until Sophia could see her face beneath the hood of that cloak she wears. She couldn't find it in herself to run away or look away, despite no flower covered vines rooting her into place.

Even though her eyes were fiery flicks instead of the deep hazel in the photographs within the journal, even through her hair was messy and long in its ponytail as opposed to the short, neatly kept bob as in the photos, it was all still the same face she grew to understand, and perhaps, care about in her oen strange way.

She held the same posture, had the same curious glint in her eyes despite how smothered it became. The witch before her is the one and only Danielle Cargen.

She reaches a green tinged hand out to Sophia, beckoning her, "And I can tell you are on the same cusp. Pondering the same questions I did when I first became what I am now centuries back. I am a cruel witch, but I am also not merciless like my fairies are."

Sophia stares longingly at her hand, blood frozen in her veins. Danielle gives her a small smile, more geniune, "Come, take my hand and follow in my footsteps. I'll teach you everything I know, wish I knew, when I first lost my humanity. Or turn back, and let my fairies guide you out with no guarantee you will even stay human."

"...No catch?" Sophia choked out hoarsely.

"No catch. Consider it my treat for making it this far. And for finding my book."

It was an offer of apprenticeship. To become a familiar, and with that something inhuman yet powerful.

Sophia wanted to say no. All common sense begged her to say no, to walk away now while she still could. To become a witch herself meant to never see home again.

But then again, what exactly did she have to look forward to back home? She didn't have many kind thoughts for either parent of hers, and it's not like her boss was much better even if he didn't die early on since being brought to this realm. What did she have to lose? Perhaps she was crazy, but she wanted what Danielle was offering.

She wanted to only be a slave to her own desires, not anyone else's. Why bother being human? Nothing good ever came out of it anyway.

So against every thread of sanity still holding her psyche together, Sofia took the witch's hand. She tried not to wince as the vines dug into her palm, her pitiful fate sealed.

"I trust you."

Prompt #2839

“But you’re human-”

“Am I? How novel. No one has treated me like a human in a long, long time.”

[urfavleo777]

warnings: age gap, tattoo artist! colby x reader, alcohol

"Angel's wings!" your best friend exclaims, speaking completely seriously. Your other friend approves, clapping her hands eagerly. "Get them tattooed!"

You almost choke on your drink when you hear how seriously Katrina gives you a new idea for your first tattoo. If someone told you that friendship between three people doesn't exist, you would laugh at them. The three of you are living proof that it's not the number of people in the group that matters, but the love that exists between you. Each of you is different, but that is the most beautiful thing. There is nothing worse than boredom and monotony in friendship.

"Come on, you'll be eighteen in an hour. Do something that will make you happy, not your parents." Sophia, usually the voice of reason, tries to convince you.

You don't know if it's the alcohol you just drank, but in a split second you undergo an internal transformation. You'll be of age in an hour. No one will be able to lecture you. Even your parents who, instead of spending this birthday time with their daughter, decided to go to the mountains. At first you reacted with sadness, but over time you were glad that the situation had turned out this way because you could invite your two favorite girls over for the night.

Katrina and Sophia look at you with impatient eyes, encouraging you to make a quick decision. You take a deep breath, tilting your head back. As pathetic as it sounds, you try your hardest to get advice from the ceiling.

You look back at your waiting friends. They send drunken glances your way, which only reinforces the fact that you must probably look like one of them at this point. Sophia and Katarina's eyes widen. Something unexpected is about to happen; something that will change the course of history forever.

Katarina clenches her fists like a true boxing legend, preparing for the worst possible scenario. With each subsequent inhalation, you feel even more excitement and arousal wash over you. You open your mouth to announce the official verdict.

"If not now, never, right?"

After saying these words, you're crushed under the bodies of these two freaks. And, you swear to yourself that if your parents had been home, after all those squeals of happiness, you would have ended up under a bridge.

"The best decision you've ever made, Y/n! I'm so proud," Sophia squeals excitedly, and Katrina joins in. You realize that you still hold the glass in your hand. You hiss, knowing that you'll definitely need to change the sheets of your bed after tonight. "Don't worry about it! Let's go to the tattoo artist!"

"Now?" you keep mumbling under their bodies.

Katrina and Sophia step away from you, exchanging meaningful glances with each other. You are finally able to catch your breath, but you don't really understand what they're trying to tell you.

"Yes. Now." Sophia grins. "Katrina, are you thinking about the same person as me?"

The friend nods her head in response, also with a big grin on her face.

"Oh, yeah! The handsomest, hottest and most expensive tattoo artist in town," she starts counting and you wonder why you've never heard of him before. "Y/n, we guarantee you the best fucking fun."

"Let's fucking do this!" They both squeal, grabbing your hands and pulling you out of the bed.

***

"You guys didn't even give me a chance to change clothes!"

You are wearing a black body suit and really low rise jeans so people on the street can see a bit of skin, which makes you feel a little uncomfortable.

"You look great." Sophia assures you and Katrina nods to her. Well, they're wearing perfectly balanced sweaters compared to you. They decided to make you the main star without outshining you with clothes. You feel like standing out of the crowd, which you don't like very much.

"Do you think this tattoo artist will accept us without prior consultation?" you ask, genuinely curious. "Maybe we should call him? We'd better get back home..."

"Relax, Y/n," you turn into a street you've probably never been to. Katrina tries to convince you, but with each step you take, you become less and less sure. Even though your parents have well-paid jobs, they usually don't let you hang around the rich districts. They would be disappointed if they knew that while they were away their daughter was getting a tattoo, not really knowing where.

"You said he was an expensive tattoo artist. I don't think I want to spend money this way." You continue, feeling the alcohol drain from you. You regain consciousness and regret saying yes to your friends. "Maybe we should really turn back?"

"Y/n," you stop in front of a building emanating LED light. The girls move closer to you and one of them puts a hand on your shoulder. Sophia, the fucking voice of reason, says: 

"He is my brother's friend. They have been friends since childhood. He practiced on my brother, making the first patterns. He would never take money from me or my friends. We are always out of line. Trust me, you're in good hands."

"He was the one who gave me that big tattoo you liked so much," finishes Katrina.

You sigh, trying to convince yourself first and foremost. Sophia pulls out her phone and brings it closer to your face.

The first thing that catches your eye are the huge white numbers on the screen. What's more, they don't seem blurry at all. You must be really sober. You take a deep breath, recalling the quote of your favorite teacher in your head.

12:00. Carpe diem.

 "It's time to go fucking crazy, Y/n." 

***

"Sophia? What's for today?" It’s a male voice. Raspy, yet soft. The sound of it makes you whip your head over to your friends, but you're trying to stay calm. He lets out a heavy sigh before humming to himself in thought. Only after a while he notices that Sophia is not alone. "And who is this?"

"Hello, Colby. Meet Y/n, your new client." 

And the way he shakes your hand is firm but gentle, not as hard as you think it'd be given the size of his biceps probably are larger than your head. But then he softly grips your elbow and guides you into the chair with a hand on your back. "Don't worry, I don't bite."

"Well, I thought I would have to convince you.. longer."

You flush a little under his gaze because he's noticed how you're shaking like a leaf next to him. And the way he smiles indicates he might enjoy biting you anyways... and maybe you'd let him. 

"I was just about to close, but you know perfectly well that I will always make an exception for you, Sophia." Your friend smiles at his words.

"So, what are we doing tonight?" he focuses all his attention on you. You swallow, not really knowing what to answer. Katrina decides to save your ass from total embarrassment.

"Angel's wings." 

He looks like he's about to roll his eyes.

"Seriously, I can't count how many girls asked me for the exact same pattern. Try something more creative."

"I'd like to stick with the wings, please. In a place invisible to the eye."

"Getting a tattoo so you don't show it to anyone? How old are you anyway?"

"Eighteen." He doesn't look convinced. With one movement of your hand, you pull your ID from your back pocket. Colby, as you can guess, surprised by the concrete, grabs the ID in his hand and looks at it carefully.

"She's so young." When he talks about you in the third person, something happens to you. "Are you sure you want those fucking wings?"

"Come on, Colby. You did this to my brother many times." Sophia interjects. "Don't ruin her birthday."

"Ah, yes. Happy birthday or something." You can tell he’s in a good mood based on the playful amusement in his voice. 

"Thanks," you hang your head.

"We have to do something about her shyness." he turns to your friends.

"Maybe wings between her tits? I bet no girl has ever asked for this," suggests Katrina. You almost choke on your saliva. You want to get up from that chair and run out.

"That sounds perfect." His voice is sweet with a touch of flirtiness, and you swear you can hear the smile in it. "What do you think, Y/n?"

"There's no way I'm going to show you my tits." You take courage. Colby laughs loudly. He clearly takes pleasure in your attitude and shakes his head, leaning in to watch you.

"It's your choice." You bite at your lip instead of answering him. 

"Come on, Y/n. We won't look either." Katrina says and Sophia nods.

You've already succumbed to them once in a while. Nothing will stop you from doing it again.

The girls send you their last kisses. After a while, it's just you and your tattoo artist left in the room.

***

You're honestly glad when the uncomfortable silence is drowned out by the song "Ultraviolence" by Lana Del Rey. You asked to simply turn on the radio, but you were surprised when Colby asked you for the title. What was even weirder was when he used the fucking vinyl of one of your favorite albums instead of Spotify.

He hums to himself. "Those are nice."

You got rid of your bra. No one has ever complimented your boobs, but you smile slightly, burying your face in your hands.

He gives you a little wink before stenciling what you had in mind, his fingertips tracing the lines of the ink that leaves goosebumps across your skin.

There's a lingering feeling as he pulls his hand back. You think he's toying with you. Frightful little thing, you are and here he is wanting to play with his pretty little client. Next thing you know, his hand is around your throat.

You tense and realize that he has moved some of your hair to the other side to give more access to the space between your tits. It definitely could have been done easier and better, but the twinkle in his eyes said he did it on purpose. Oh yes, he was definitely having fun with you. The way his hand barely grazed your throat and the side of your neck before he would gently scratch your arm with his blunt nails and pull away.

He let's out a huff of quiet laughter and then gets his tools ready. "So, y/n, you have a safeword?"

And you're brought out of your thoughts about his large hands because... "Huh?"

"A safeword. It's big."

W..what's big? You can't stop your eyes from flitting down to his thighs and what may lie between them. He laughs and shifts so your eyes are instantly back up and staring at his eyes that glimmer in amusement.

"The tattoo, I mean. It's a big piece. Need to know if it'll be too much, yeah?"

[dixons-sunshine]

Holding On To You | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Despite not being too keen on PDA, Daryl craved comfort too. He got that comfort by holding your hand in his. It wasn't always that simple, though. He had to work his way up to being comfortable with that. Luckily, you were a patient person.

Or, three different scenarios in where the archer shows progress in his comfort with you.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Pre-prison (on the road); pre-Alexandria; Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.

Warnings: Swearing, migraines, mentions of injuries.

Word count: 2.1k

A/n: @louifaith, the muse you are, feeding our Daryl obsessed minds with your beautifully crafted scenarios. I wasn't feeling well today (a migraine and I was pretty dizzy) and didn't get much writing done, but this idea deserved to be written. There's a bit of Eugene slander in this but it's because I don't really like S5 Eugene. He's way better in the other seasons imo. Anyways, I hope you like this!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

The cruelty of life seemed endless. With the stability and safety of the farm being something of the past, having to scavenge for scraps and having to move from house to house every few days, and with the impending arrival of Lori's little baby, everyone's spirits were diminished. Everyone longed for the comfort the farm brought for those few weeks you had all been looking for Sophia, everyone wanted a decent meal to satiate their hunger and although Lori's unborn baby was a reminder that innocence still existed, it was also a cruel reminder that you all needed to find someplace to plant some roots, and fast—especially if you didn't want to attract the dead with the baby's loud crying.

You sighed softly as you quietly followed behind Daryl, yours and his boots making clear tracks in the deep snow. The archer, as observant as ever, noticed your shift in mood and turned his head, eyeing you carefully.

“Ya alrigh'?” he questioned, turning his attention back to the tracks in front of him. Your relationship was pretty new, only having been "officially" together since the two of you had shared a kiss back after the fall of the farm.

You nodded, although he couldn't see you. “I'm fine.”

Daryl hummed, unconvinced. “Yer not fine. I know ya better than tha'.”

Your lips twitched up into a smile, walking a little faster to walk next to him. Daryl slowed his pace slightly to allow you to walk next to him at a steady pace, eyeing you as you adjusted your compound bow over your shoulder—a gift he had gotten you when you had mentioned wanting to learn how to hunt.

“I'm fine, I promise. I'm just tired, that's all,” you replied reassuringly, walking almost shoulder to shoulder with your partner.

Daryl shot you a worried look, fully prepared to head back. “If yer tired, we can go back. This trail ain't leadin' us anywhere, anyway.”

“I don't mean tired in the literal sense,” you corrected. “I'm just tired of all this moving around. Not knowing what our next meals going to be, if we even eat at all, not knowing when our current camp's going to be overrun with walkers, not knowing when Lori's baby's going to be here... It's mentally exhausting. We all need a break.”

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod. “Yeah,” he agreed. “We could do with a couple' of days where we ain't gotta worry.”

Before you could respond, there was a snap of a twig ahead of the two of you. Instinctively, you and Daryl raised your respective weapons in the direction of the noise, expecting to find a walker staggering towards you. However, instead of coming face to face with danger, you saw a small deer walking over to something in the distance.

Daryl raised his crossbow, aiming to take the shot. However, your hand on his arm halted his intentions. He shot you a questioning look, but you only hushed him and beckoned for him to follow you. The two of you slowly crept closer, the scene before you becoming clearer. The small deer made its way to what was presumably its mother, nuzzling against her legs.

You smiled softly at the sight. Despite the fall of the world, beauty still remained. Unbeknownst to you, Daryl was thinking the exact same thing at that moment, but he wasn't looking at the deer. He was gazing at you, taking in your radiant smile, the sparkle in your eyes, just everything about you. You truly were beautiful to the archer.

Hesitantly, Daryl brushed his hand against yours. Your smile widened but you made no move to grab his hand, not wanting to scare him off. You moved at his pace, and whether he held your hand at that moment was his decision.

In the end, the only thing he did was link his pinky with yours, and it was a perfect moment for you. In your mind, that was really good progress for a man who wasn't familiar with giving or receiving comfort. You'd wait as long as you needed to for Daryl to be comfortable around you. You'd never push him, never.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

The road seemed endless. You listened to the incessant yapping from one of your newest companions in your group of ragtag survivors, Eugene Porter, and had to resist the urge to tell him to shut up. Despite the euphoria and relief that came with reuniting with your group and having new members that could help you all, you were tired. Not just physically, but mentally, too. It was so much worse this time around than when you were initially on the road two years back. You were sporting a bruised cheek with deep cuts and scrapes littering the rest of your body, and you had a raging migraine.

And Eugene's droning wasn't helping matters at all.

As if sensing your deteriorating resolve at not biting the poor man's head of, Rick finally called for a break. “We rest here for now. We'll get moving again in an hour. Everything you want to do, do it now. Once we move again, we're not stopping until nightfall.”

Everyone soon dispersed, some heading to a nearby creek to refill the water supply, some starting a small fire to heat up some food and some even laying down on the hard ground to get some much needed sleep. You walked over to a tree and slid down against it, resting your head on your knees, willing the migraine away.

You soon heard a rustling next to you, before feeling a body sitting down next to you. You didn't even have to look up to know it was Daryl—the archer's presence was something you had grown used to and you could identify him anywhere.

“Hey,” he greeted you quietly, loosely hugging his knees. “Ya alrigh'?”

You hummed, lifting your head to look at him. “I'm fine,” you replied. “I just have a migraine.”

Daryl nodded, his face showing sympathy for you. “M'sorry we dun' have anythin' fer yer migraine. I know how bad they can get.”

You smiled and shook your head, placing your hand on the ground beside you, right between you and Daryl. “It's okay. It'll go away eventually. It's not that bad, as long as Eugene's quiet.”

Daryl chuckled, eyeing the aforementioned man who was sitting near the campfire. “Yeah, he's quite annoying, ain't he?”

“No, he's alright. He just needs to learn to be quiet from time to time.”

Daryl hummed and quieted down, simply basking in the early afternoon heat under the shade of the tree while the two of you observed the survivors going about their chores. However, Rick soon called for everyone to regroup, and you and Daryl got up to follow behind him.

You and Daryl walked at the back, giving you some semblance of privacy, and some semblance of relief from Eugene's rambling as he was at the front with Abraham and Rosita. Slowly and hesitantly, Daryl moved closer to you and brushed his hand against yours, before slowly interlacing his fingers through yours.

You smiled up at him, and he returned the smile with a small one of his own. It may not have been the first time that you've held hands with the archer, but it was the first time that you've done so with people around. Although Daryl slightly manoeuvred the two of you in a way that your locked hands wouldn't draw attention if people weren't directly looking at you, it was still a big deal for you. He was starting to show you off publicly. Although people back at the prison knew you as "the hunter's girl" because of an incident where a guy flirted with you and Daryl put him in his place, PDA wasn't something they ever saw from the man. He preferred to keep that part of your lives private—so this simple gesture was a big deal.

You squeezed his hand, a gesture you and Daryl had come up with to quietly tell the other "I love you". Daryl smiled softly and squeezed your hand back.

You truly loved this man, and he had shown countless times that he loved you, too.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“You guys should come over again. This was nice,” Eric told you with a smile, him and Aaron walking out onto the porch with you and Daryl.

You smiled at him and nodded. “We will, especially if you're going to be serving that spaghetti you made again. It was delicious. Seriously, thank you. It's the best meal we've had in a while.”

“No thanks necessary,” Aaron replied, waving you off. “It was our pleasure.”

Daryl nodded, moving to shake Aaron's extended hand. “Thanks. This was a hell of a lot better than tha' party at Deanna's woulda been.”

Aaron nodded and withdrew his hand again, allowing Eric to take his place before moving over to give you a hug. You returned it before giving Eric a hug too, and then pulled back.

“We should get going. Once again, thanks for tonight.”

“Once again, it's our pleasure,” Eric laughed. “Goodnight, guys. We'll see you around.”

“Goodnight,” you greeted them.

“Nigh',” Daryl responded, turning to you and subconsciously extending his hand to you.

You smiled at him but didn't say anything, not wanting him to change his mind about it. You slipped your hand into his and walked with him down the porch steps and into the relatively quiet streets of Alexandria, music from Deanna's party playing very faintly in the background.

You and Daryl didn't instantly go home. You simply walked through the streets, familiarising yourselves with the community. Daryl never let go of your hand; he had even brought your hand up to his lips once to kiss your knuckles, and your heart swelled with love for the man.

The two of you had run into a couple of the people in the community who were returning to their homes after the party, and you had suspected that Daryl would pull his hand from yours, but he never did. His grip on your hand seemed to tighten slightly during your interactions with those people, seeking your comfort around people he didn't know. It made you feel special, important. It made you happy to know that the man you met back at the quarry trusted you enough to bring him comfort.

Later that night, when the two of you returned to the empty house and retreated into the sanctuary of your shared basement, snuggled up together under the covers was when you finally addressed what he had done. Daryl was laying with his head on your chest, absentmindedly tracing shapes and figures onto your hand.

“You held my hand today,” you told him, softly threading your fingers through his freshly washed, brown locks, the shower having been courtesy of your skillful convincing.

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed absentmindedly, nuzzling his face deeper into your chest.

“In front of people,” you said, eyeing his reaction carefully.

Daryl simply glanced up at you, his face not revealing anything. “Ya want me to stop doin' tha'?”

You shook your head. “No, I like it. It's just a little out of the ordinary for you, and it took me by surprise.”

Daryl was quiet for a few moments. “I always wanna hold yer hand when we're walkin' together. I jus' never had the courage to. Dun' want people to overreact when they see it. But, I dunno... I love ya and I'll be damned if I dun' hold my girl's hand 'cause of wha' people think.”

You giggled and kissed the top of Daryl's head. “So I can expect an increase in handholding?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah.”

You smiled at him. “Good. That's exactly what I wanted to hear. I love you, Dar.”

Daryl placed a kiss to your chest, before laying his head back down. “Love ya more, sunshine.”

[selfshipprincess]

I primarily imagine myself as being a child bodily, unless it's a scenario where I'm romantically involved with a character.

Question for all the littles out there: when you imagine yourself in your fandoms with your fictional cgs, do you imagine yourself in your current body, but feeling little? Or as an actual child? That was my big shower thought last night and I had to put it out there. I typically imagine myself as an actual child, unless it’s specifically with a character I self-ship with. Then, I’m back to adult body, occasional little time. I’m genuinely curious about this!

[buckets-and-trees]

Red, White & True: Las Vegas & Cleveland (2/?)

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x curvy Millennial Female!Reader, Sam Wilson, Bucky Barnes Word Count: 4k Summary: Three months has raced by since you agreed to join the campaign team of Rogers for America as Steve runs for President of the United States of America. You've settled in and are starting to hit your stride campaigning, but what the state of affairs for your marriage?

Content/Warnings: marriage of political convenience, slow burn

Notes: This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.

Previous Chapter | Series

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[SEPTEMBER 2 - Las Vegas, Nevada]

“Mrs. Rogers!” “Mrs. Rogers!”

You exchange a brief look with your assistant Sophia. She nods to wordlessly confirm that you have a few moments and should engage with the press. Taking a deep breath, you turn and approach the bank of reporters waiting and eager to regale you with questions.

There are a few familiar faces who’ve been consistently covering the Rogers for America campaign, some of them even assigned specifically to report on you - mostly friends, but some that could be categorized in the foe column.

“Mrs. Rogers, you and your husband are in the same city for the first time in eighteen days.” This is one of the faces you aren’t familiar with in the gaggle of press. “Are you looking forward to being reunited as you support him in the first presidential debate tonight?”

Eighteen days… You hadn’t realized it had been that long, but you’ve become a trained professional when appearing in public now, and you don’t let your face betray any shock or unease.

“Yes, we’re eager to spend time together.” Consummate professional that you’ve become, you do play into showing a little bit of surprise. “Has it been eighteen days? Who’s been tracking this? Clearly we need you on our campaign team!”

It garners some good-natured laughs from the group.

“Mrs. Rogers, you and Steve had to cancel the traditional honeymoon, has it put a strain on your marriage, and will you be taking a honeymoon any time soon?”

“Oh, Ben, are you saying this isn’t a honeymoon? I thought all newlyweds took a five-month long zig-zagging trek all across America to kick off their marriage!”

A few more laughs.

“Steve is serious about this campaign, and we both knew the sacrifices we would be making along the way. Our time together is very limited, but I can tell you, without question, that Steve will be as dedicated to his roles and responsibilities as President as you have seen him be to this campaign. One thing we speak about frequently when we do have time together are the incredible people we’re meeting as we travel from state to state and get to talk with you, see what your life looks like in each new place.” This is true. It’s become one of the unspoken safe topics you can bring up at the drop of a hat with each other. “We’re getting the opportunity to experience first-hand that although we’re all so different, there’s so much that unites us as Americans, shoulder to shoulder, regardless of the part of the country we live in.”

“Thank you, everyone,” Sophia steps up and cuts in. “I’m sure we’ll see you all tonight at the debate. A reminder that the Rogers for America campaign will hold a brief press conference ten minutes after the debate concludes. For now, you have to let me get Mrs. Rogers in the car and on the way to the university or we’re not going to beat traffic - and neither will any of you.”

Then Sophia ushers you away, and you slip into the vehicle waiting for you both.

“Good answers,” she says, as the driver pulls away. “You’re really becoming comfortable fielding their questions and directing their energy where we want to see it go.”

You smile at Sophia's praise. She’s genuine but very no-nonsense, so she doesn’t throw out compliments to placate you or anyone else. It’s one of the reasons you promoted her to your assistant. "Thanks. I do feel like I'm starting to get the hang of it. Though I have to admit, I was a bit thrown by that '18 days' comment."

Sophia nods sympathetically. "I know. It's been a whirlwind, but you're doing great. The public loves you, and your approval ratings are holding steady."

You lean back in your seat, letting out a small sigh. "Approval ratings. Sometimes I still can't believe this is my life now."

As the car weaves through traffic, your mind drifts back to the past few months. The whirlwind wedding, the campaign launch, the endless string of rallies, interviews, and public appearances. You've barely had a moment to catch your breath, let alone get to know your husband.

Steve. Your husband.

In name and public persona only, it seems. The campaign trails that are being charted and continually adjusted for you, Steve, the VP nominee, and his wife, have all four of you covering as much ground as possible, and there’s rarely any overlap, but it does seem like you’re rarely with the Mr. to your Mrs. It makes things simultaneously more and less complicated. More complicated because the lack of time together means it’s more awkward that you’re still basically acquaintances but have to look the part of happy newlyweds. Less complicated because at least you’re not messing with any deep or complex feelings.

"Mrs. Rogers?" Sophia's voice pulls you from your thoughts. "We're almost there. Are you ready?"

You straighten up, smoothing down the front of your outfit. "As ready as I'm going to be. What's on the agenda before the debate?"

Sophia consults her tablet. "You have a meet and greet with the VP and a group of the local campaign volunteers. Steve should be arriving about forty-five minutes before the debate starts. Twenty minutes before the debate, you all have a brief prep session with the communications team - updates on the developments over the day and reviewing the message for tonight."

You nod, trying to ignore the small flutter in your stomach at the mention of Steve's name. It's ridiculous, you tell yourself. You're married to the man, for goodness sake. And you both know it’s a marriage for the stability of this campaign and the future presidency.

The car pulls up to the Thomas & Mack Center at the University of Nevada, and you take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the chaos that awaits. As you step out, you're immediately greeted by flashing cameras and shouts from the crowd. You smile and wave, but don't stop to answer any questions as you make your way inside, following someone from the debate logistics team to get to the staging and holding area.

Backstage is a flurry of activity. Campaign staffers rush back and forth, last-minute preparations are being made, and there's an electric tension in the air. Your eyes scan the room, looking for one person in particular.

And then you see him. Steve is standing off to the side, deep in conversation with one of the communications strategists. Even after all these months, the sight of him still takes your breath away. He's tall, broad-shouldered, and undeniably handsome in his perfectly tailored navy suit. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he listens intently to the woman in front of him.

As if sensing your presence, Steve looks up, his eyes meeting yours across the room. His face softens slightly, and he excuses himself from the conversation, making his way over to you.

"Hey," he says softly as he approaches, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on the cheek. It's for show, you know, it’s important that even your own campaign staff thinks this marriage is more than surface level, and you stifle the small thrill that runs through you at the gesture. It’s only a gesture.

"Hi," you reply, managing to offer up an encouraging smile. "How are you feeling? Ready for tonight?"

Steve nods, his expression determined. "As ready as I'll ever be. We still have a long weeks ahead, but I think we're in a good position - and that’s what they keep saying across the team at this point."

You nod, studying his face. Despite his confident words, you can see the tension in his jaw, the slight crease between his brows. You've learned to read these subtle signs over the past few months, even with your limited time together.

"You've got this, Steve," you say softly, placing a hand on his arm. The gesture feels both natural and strange - you're still navigating the boundaries of your unique relationship. "Just remember why you're doing this. Speak from the heart, like you always do."

Steve's eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see a flash of vulnerability there. "Thank you," he says, his voice low. "I -”

But before he can say the rest of what he was going to, Sophia approaches, tablet in hand. "Mrs. Rogers, we need to go to the reception with the volunteers from the local campaign team."

[SEPTEMBER 7 - Cleveland, Ohio]

The campaign strategy meeting is in full swing, the air thick with tension and the buzz of caffeine-fueled ideas. You're seated at a long table in a nondescript hotel conference room, surrounded by a sea of laptops, notepads, and half-empty coffee cups. The walls are covered with maps, poll numbers, and hastily scribbled strategies.

Steve sits at the head of the table, his brow furrowed in concentration as he listens to the latest polling data. You're positioned a few seats away, close enough to appear united, but not his most trusted. Sam, Bucky, the VP nominee Young and his assistant, the campaign press secretary, the communications director, all sit closer to or directly across from Steve, at the heart of the table. But you are closer than the finance director, legal advisor, speech writers, and the policy directors.

You're seated next Sam on your left with Sophia on your right, taking notes and pulling up memos on her laptop.

Steve is leaning forward, his brow furrowed in concentration as he listens to the campaign manager, Jake Thompson, deliver his latest assessment.

Jake, a seasoned political operative with salt-and-pepper hair and a no-nonsense attitude, stands at the head of the table, remote control in hand as he flips through a report on polling and focus groups that have been conducted over the past two weeks with Gen Z in urban, suburban, and rural pockets of the country.

"As you can see," Jake says, his voice carrying a mix of concern and determination, "this is where we’re making progress. Enough of them are tired of the rhetoric that’s been recycled all their lives, problems that never seem to be resolved because they’re too useful as campaign issues. That’s why an independent candidate is beginning to look a lot more appealing.”

Jake clicks to the next slide, which shows a breakdown of key issues that resonated most with young voters. "Climate change, affordable education, and social justice are their top priorities. They appreciate your strong stance on these issues, Steve, but they're still skeptical about whether you can actually deliver real change."

Steve nods, his expression thoughtful. "So how do we bridge that gap? How do we convince them that we're not just another set of empty promises?"

You lean forward slightly, your mind racing with ideas. This is an area where you feel you can contribute significantly, given your background in non-profit work and your ability to connect with younger generations.

"If I may," you begin, and all eyes turn to you. You feel a flutter of nervousness but push through it. "I think we need to focus on concrete, actionable plans. Not just broad strokes, but specific steps we'll take in the first 100 days. I think it would speak to Millennials as well.”

Jake nods appreciatively at your suggestion. "Mrs. Rogers, did you hack into my laptop sometime in the last 24 hours?” He’s not smiling - he never outright smiles - but he has a proud glint in his eyes as he looks at you. “What you’re suggesting is exactly in line with what I wanted to bring to the table today. We need to show them we're not just talking the talk, we’re ready to his the ground running when they put us in the White House."

Steve nods, his eyes meeting yours with interest. "Go on," he encourages.

You take a deep breath, feeling more confident. "We should consider hosting a series of town halls specifically targeting young voters. Not just to talk at them, but to listen. Let them voice their concerns directly and then demonstrate how our policies address those issues. We could even live-stream these events, make them interactive."

Jake looks intrigued. "That should work. It plays into our strengths - Steve's authenticity and your ability to connect with younger demographics."

"We could also leverage social media more effectively," you continue, warming to your topic. "Not just posting sound bites, but creating engaging content that breaks down complex issues in accessible ways. Maybe even collaborate with some respected influencers who align with our values."

Steve leans back in his chair, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I like it. What else?”

Elsa, communications director jumps in, "These are excellent strategies we can absolutely put into play, but we're still facing challenges with this demographic. Many of them feel disconnected from the political process entirely. They see you, Steve, as part of an older generation that doesn't understand their issues."

You watch Steve's reaction carefully. His jaw tightens slightly, but he nods, absorbing the information.

"What do you suggest?" Steve asks, his voice calm but tinged with frustration.

Elsa hesitates for a moment before responding. "We need to make you more relatable to younger voters. Show them that despite your... unique background, you understand and care about the issues that matter to them."

"And how do we do that?" Steve presses.

Jake glances your way before answering. "We think Mrs. Rogers could play a key role here."

You straighten in your seat, suddenly very alert. "Me?" you ask, trying to keep the surprise out of your voice.

“Yes,” he confirms. “We have a problem and an opportunity that’s developing. That 18 days comment last week heated things up again with the public perception and scrutiny of your marriage. You handled it exactly as you should have, Mrs. Rogers,” he assures you, “that’s not our concern. But now that someone has brought up numbers for days apart, it’s becoming part of the narrative, and we already had to tame concerns over your sudden nuptials, we don’t want the state of your marriage to be the focus again.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, and you can see out of the corner of your eye that Steve isn’t thrilled about this either.

“But the opportunity here,” Elsa jumps back in, “is that we can put that to rest and capitalize on what we’re beginning to see as the Mrs. Rogers effect on the campaign trail. Her approval ratings were never bad, but they keep climbing. The public still wonders if Steve is a politician, if he’s ready to be the next President, but they already see a politician’s wife in you, Mrs. Rogers.”

You feel a mix of pride and unease at Elsa's words. On one hand, it's gratifying to know your efforts are making a positive impact. On the other, you can't help but feel like you're being used as a prop.

Even though that is what you are at the most elementary level.

"What exactly are you proposing?" Steve asks, his tone careful but with an edge to it.

Jake leans forward, his expression earnest. "We want to increase the number of joint appearances you two make. Show the public that you're a united front, a team. Town halls, rallies, even some more casual, candid moments. Show the public that you're a team, that you support each other. It'll help soften Steve's image and make him more relatable to younger voters."

You glance at Steve, trying to gauge his reaction. His face is impassive, but there is a slight tension in his jaw.

You can see Steve is uncomfortable with the idea, but he's considering it carefully. You decide to speak up.

"I appreciate the strategy, but I have some concerns," you say. "We don't want to come across as inauthentic or like we're using our relationship as a political tool. That could backfire, especially with younger voters who are already skeptical of politicians and doing things for clout."

Jake nods, "You're right to be cautious. We're not suggesting anything overly staged or fake. Just more opportunities for the public to see you two together, interacting naturally."

Steve finally speaks up. "I agree with my wife," he says, and you feel a small, unexpected thrill at hearing him refer to you that way, even though you know it's just part of this gig. "We need to be careful about how we approach this. I don't want to exploit our relationship. But let’s make it work."

Jake wraps up the meeting quickly at that point, instructing his staff to update each candidate’s logistics team over the updated schedule that will play to the ‘Rogers & Rogers Strategy,’ and putting the policy advisors and communications team to work on implementing your suggestions into the direction they were going to propose. As every minute of the campaign season is instrumental, nearly everyone clears out of the room at that point.

You’re at the elevator in the lobby when you realize you left your jacket in the hotel conference room. Sophia says they can have an aide bring it up to your room, but you insist you’d like to stretch your legs a little more before heading up to sleep. As you head back down the hall, you’re relieved to see the door is still open, and you pick up your step. But then you come to an abrupt halt when you hear voices and your name drifts out into the hallway in a conversation between Steve, Sam, and Bucky.

“I don’t like it.”

“What a surprise! The anit-social, bionic man with a staring problem doesn’t like the idea of pal-ing around with the new Mrs. Rogers! Man, I know you only recently started to like me, but can you get on board with her.”

“Who says I like you?” he counters.

“Ha ha,” Sam retorts dryly. “You should be so lucky that next time we put you up for president so we could canvas the country for a girl who could put up with you and all your bullshit.”

Steve chuckles - something you realize you’ve rarely heard him do.

“But it’s you I’m surprised by, Steve,” Sam continues. “Why are you still holding this girl at arms’ length?”

Steve heaves a heavy sigh, and you can just imagine him putting his hands on his hips.

“You don’t even know, do you?” Sam presses him, his tone incredulous.

You hold your breath, straining to hear Steve's response. There's a long pause before he speaks.

"It's not that simple, Sam," Steve says, his voice low and weary. "This whole situation... it's complicated."

"Complicated how?" Sam presses. "She's smart, she's kind, she's dedicated to the cause. And let's be real, she's not hard on the eyes either. What's holding you back?"

You feel your cheeks flush at Sam's words, a mix of embarrassment and curiosity coursing through you.

"It's not about her," Steve says firmly. "She's... she's great. Better than I could have hoped for, honestly. But this whole arrangement, it just feels..."

"Fake?" Bucky offers, his voice gruff.

"No," Steve says quickly. "Not fake. Just... I don't know. Forced. This whole situation - it's not the same as the tour for war bonds back in ‘43, but it’s still a production. I never imagined being in a situation like this again."

"None of us imagined this, Steve," Bucky chimes in, his tone softer than before.

Steve sighs again. “And I know it’s another thing I’ve chosen that neither of you signed up for, and I appreciate you being here by my side.”

"And she's here now, too,” Sam circles back to you, “and she's trying. You can't keep pushing her away."

"I'm not pushing her away," Steve protests, but it sounds weak even to your ears.

"Really?" Sam challenges. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're doing enough to conveniently keep your distance. She's your wife, Steve. On paper, sure, but she's also becoming a real partner in this campaign. You've seen how she handles herself out there."

You lean against the wall, your heart racing as you listen to the conversation. You know you shouldn't be eavesdropping, but you can't bring yourself to walk away, not when - even if you’re not involved - someone is finally talking about the state of your marriage.

"I know," Steve says, his voice tinged with frustration. "I see it. She's incredible out there. The way she connects with people, the way she articulates our message, she’s all in and she's a natural."

"So what's the problem?" Sam presses.

"If I let her in and this doesn't work out..."

"You mean the campaign?" Sam asks.

"No," Steve says.

And then - because of course it’s that exact moment - a door just a bit further down the opens, and you have to pretend you were not just standing in the hallway eavesdropping on anyone, and you abandon jacket retrieval and pretend you were on your way to the hotel bar to catch a quick nightcap with some of the staffers.

[SEPTEMBER 8 - Airspace over Ohio]

The next morning, it’s wheels up at 7am for the presidential candidate campaign plane, and you’re on it. You’re being sent with Steve to Wisconsin.

As the plane climbs to cruising altitude, you stifle a yawn and make your way to the "war room" - a section of the campaign plane that serves as a mobile strategy center and occasional dining area. The smell of coffee and pastries wafts through the air, a tempting lure after the early morning rush.

Sophia’s intern had already supplied you with your go-to morning drink, but you grab a plate and fill it with some fruit, cheese, bacon, and a surprisingly and delightfully warm croissant. The plane's engines hum steadily as you settle into one of the seats at the table. The early morning sunlight streams through the small windows, casting a warm glow over the polished wood table. You've barely slept, your mind still reeling from the conversation you overheard last night.

You pull out your tablet, intending to review the day's revised schedule, but your thoughts keep drifting back to Steve's words. The weight of them sits heavy in your chest, a mix of disappointment and something else you can't quite name.

You're so lost in your thoughts that you don't notice someone approaching until they clear their throat. You look up, expecting to see Sophia or maybe one of the campaign staffers. Instead, you find yourself faced with Bucky Barnes.

"Morning," he says, his voice gruff but not unfriendly. "Mind if I join you?"

You blink, momentarily thrown off balance. In all the months of campaigning, you've barely exchanged more than a few pleasantries.

"Of course," you say, gesturing to the seat across from you.

Bucky nods and takes a seat, setting down his own plate of food. There's an awkward silence as he settles in, and you can't help but study him. His hair is short again - the style he’d adopted when he was pardoned not long after the Snap. He's dressed casually in jeans and a dark henley. Despite his relaxed appearance, there's an undeniable intensity about him, a coiled energy that seems barely contained.

"So," Bucky says, breaking the silence. "Wisconsin."

You nod, grateful for the opening. "Yes, big day ahead. Are you joining us for the rally?"

Bucky shakes his head. "I’ll be backstage, but no."

Another silence falls between you, but it feels almost companionable, and the two of you enjoy your breakfast. Usually people try to fill any potentially silent moment around you these days, and so the reprieve itself is nice, but it doesn’t last long. Soon you’re joined by some of the staff - some seeking breakfast, some looking for you or for Bucky. And so the next wave of action for the day begins.

next part: HOUSTON

I KNOW! WE JUMPED FROM THE DAY BEFORE THE WEDDING TO THE BEGINNING OF SEPTEMBER! But that's by design.

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