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svckmyballzfr · 17 hours ago

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“I know it’s over”

Yandere Batfam x Neglected Maki Zenin!reader

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 - “Where else I can go” Tw: neglect, Injury, obsession, abandonment, Torture, Abuse, SA, Death, Suicidal thoughts, Suicide, brief description about [name]’s eyes sorry (this is a disclaimer for the whole story + sorry about the bad grammar and typos, I won’t rewrite until I’m bored)

[Somewhere In Tokyo]

The sun was setting as it rained, the streetlight outside of the school buzzed as it flickered.

Heavy breathing was heard in the hallways of said, school “Well Well , if it isn’t Yuta Okkotsu my favorite weakling”

“Don’t you come near me” Yuta said shakily as three boys surrounded him in the empty classroom.

“Oh come on, don’t play hard to get” The bully said with a smirk.

“I said don’t …” Yuta said trying to said tuff but failing miserably as the bully itched closer to him. “Come on I just wanna slug you one more time before i graduate!” The bully laughed and his little minions joined in.

“Stop it..” Yuta muttered as he clenched his other arm looking down.

“Since it’s our last time together, maybe I should just kill you” The bully said as he walked closer.

“D-don’t touch me! RIKA” Yuta said in a panicked tone looking up as the bully had gotten closer with his hands towards him. A large shadow then appeared behind the bully and he froze with a wavering presence behind him.

“hm? Whatcha say?” The bully asked confused as large hands with sharp nail and went to both sides of his face. “Argh!” The bully let out a noise as his face was pulled back behind him.

….

The rain got heavier outside as yuta had crouched by the walls of the classroom muttering “I’m sorry” Blood leaks from the locker next to him slowly and it slowly opens to a mangled body.

Yuta was now sitting in a chair, in a room full of Tailsman with small lamps surrounded in the dark room to give light. He looks up staring at all the Tailsman that reached to the dark never ending ceiling.

….

“A complete cover up and a secret execution? Boy that’s some story” Gojo said unamused “The child in question did consent though.” One of the higher ups replied but Gojo quickly responded “He’s underage, just sixteen years old, and who knows how many he have cursed”

“So you’ll take him?” One of the old hags of the higher ups asked “Yes, Yuta Okkotsu will attend Jujustu high school.”

….

Yuta had his head down with his arms crossed still sitting on the chair “You make this in shop class?” Gojo said infront of him holding up a twisted knife “Yuta Okkotsu..” he finished “I-it used to be a knife..” he said softly

“I tried killing myself” He hugged his knees closer and slowly looked up “But…Rika wouldn’t let me. Gojo just stared at him “Kinda dark.” he tossed the twisted knife away. “guess what? You’re starting at a new school today.”

…

The next day at Yuta got ready for the day where he would Jujustu high! He got to walking in the hallways tiredly with his eye bags shining in the sun.

“Did you hear about the new transferred student coming today? I heard he stuffed 4 of his classmates in a locker” Panda said while he walked with [name] and Inumaki

“You mean he killed them?” [name] asked “Tuna mayo” Inumaki added “Nah, gravely injured”

“If he’s cocky I’ll put him in his place” [name] said holding her bag on her shoulder. “Bento flakes” Inumaki sighed

“Students of all grades!” Gojo said exaggerating with hand motions “We have a new student! Give him a hand!!!!!”

‘God it’s too damn early for his bullshit..’ [name] said with a her head leaning on her hand, with her legs crossed.

“not one hand…” he said sadly

“Heard the kid’s a real wet blanket, the last thing I need is an another moody rookie to look after.” (Whatever that means..)

“Salmon”

Panda hums in agreement with Inumaki, Gojo sighs and puts his hand out “Oh well then! You can come on in now!”

Yuta then opens the sliding door and as soon as his foot stepped in the classroom they sensed his cursed aura and ever stepped he took it got stronger. Panda tensed up and got aggressive and [name] eyes widen, a large menacing curse was sensed behind him and made a strange noise while facing the 3 students, [name] unzipped her bag, Inumaki put a hand on his tall collar getting ready to use his cursed technique.

Bruce Wayne had never truly possessed a reason to resent [name]—not a logical one, at least. He simply did. Or, more accurately, the reason was etched into [name]’s eyes: the exact same eyes as her mother’s.

Every time Bruce looked at her, he saw those eyes staring back—haunted by their shape, their color. He recoiled, not out of hatred, but from something far more : fear. Because he knew precisely why they unnerved him.

Her mother—the woman he loved—had abandoned him. Abandoned the Waynes. She had walked away from the life they had built, forsaking them for her Clan—a group that viewed weakness as expendable and loyalty as conditional. A Clan that had never seen her as a person, only as power.

That memory alone, of her turning her back—festered inside Bruce like a wound that refused to heal. The thought of her always lingered, sharp and unforgiving, and [name] carried that echo with every glance.

So when Bruce received a call from Naobito Zenin, irritation boiled in his chest. He instructed Alfred to sever any lines of communication. He didn’t want to hear from them. But curiosity clawed at him, and eventually, he took the call.

“Maybe M/n is finally ready to crawl back. Fine. I’ll entertain it—but I’ll make her work for it,” he had thought, even allowing a slight smile at the idea of seeing her again. Just like old times… M/n, Satoru, and him—together. A family of sorts, fractured but familiar.

But that smile shattered when Naobito’s voice turned somber. M/n was dead—she had died months ago. And now, there was a child. A daughter. His daughter.

He could barely choke out a response. “What.”

It was too much. Jason’s resurrection. The chaos of the Red Hood. And now, this?

Bruce had Gordon collect the girl from the airport and order a DNA test immediately. He needed proof—needed something solid to stand on.

The results were : the child was his. And… impossibly, she was Satoru Gojo’s as well???

The moment she stepped through the manor doors, Bruce hadn’t yet been briefed. But when his eyes met hers—one luminous blue like Gojo’s, the other the rich hue of M/n’s—he knew.

Even beyond the strange eye color, everything else was him. The cheekbones. The jawline. Even her posture. She stood tall for a six-year-old—too tall. But those eyes... they unraveled him.

He couldn’t be near her.

If he stayed, he feared he might crumble. Or worse… lash out at something so heartbreakingly innocent.

“I’m sorry for your mother’s passing,” he murmured, voice hollow and clipped, before retreating to the Batcave.

There, beneath the weight of grief he’d never prepared for, Bruce collapsed to the floor. Hands gripping the cold ground, lungs burning, air slipping through him like smoke. Pressure mounted on his chest, like unseen hands crushing his ribs. His limbs trembled. His heart thundered like a war drum in his ears.

“No, no, no, no… please stop…” he thought as panic overtook him. His vision tunneled, lips dry, mind spinning into a storm of sorrow and helplessness.

Dick never had anything against [name], he knew her mother was really close to Bruce and had seen the woman before plenty of times as robin and he couldn’t help but grow fond of her. I mean that’s basically his mother! So was nice, caring and also helped him when he had a problem with something between him, and Bruce! He could’ve hate her, never! But that changed when she had left, when he was nightwing. How could she? For that clan.

So, when Dick was in the kitchen he had got surprised by a voice behind him and when he turned he had thought it was M/n but smaller! Those eyes. Blue and e/c eyes…he got scared and kicked the poor child.

‘I mean who is this child?? Why do they have M/n eyes, and Gojo’s eyes…’ he soon snapped out of it when he seen blood dripping from her head.

hey sorry I’m so sorry…” Dick said and helped her up.

“I-It’s o-ok I’m a big girl..” [name] says as she wipes the streak of blood of off her forehead.

“Let me-“ Before he finishes he gets a text from Alfred [Master Bruce has passed out in the batcave. Please hurry here master Dick.]

“You said you were a big girl right?” He said turning his head to her. [name] nods her head eagerly.

“Then you’ll be fine handling it. I have to go. When I come back we can go to the arcade.” Dick offered a smile then left and hurried to the batcave where Alfred stood with a worried expression.

….

The next day Bruce had woke up in his bed when dick sat near with his hands on his face.“Bruce.” Dick stood up when Bruce had sat up on the edge of the bed. “What happ-“

“I can’t be a father for that girl.” Bruce interrupted and Dick froze and looked confused “The girl little that just came to the manor. I can’t be her father. That isn’t my daughter.”

Dick just stared at Bruce with a frown “Bruce-“ Bruce silently began to cry with a hand on his eyes “I can’t..” he said shakily, dick sat next to him with a hand on his back “Ok.”

Of course Dick didn’t approve of this, I mean who would??? But he could obviously see that Bruce isn’t in the right state but It’s ok he’ll be a big brother for her to lean on and see as a father…one day. Right?

Jason hated [name].

Or at least, that’s what he told himself every single time he caught her in the corner of his eye, every time someone so much as brought up her name. He’d scoff, roll his eyes, cross his arms, and say something cruel like-

“She’s a spoiled bratty bitch whose mother was a dumb whore that got herself killed.”

He said it like it was truth. Cold, harsh truth.

But deep down—where the rage throbbed and the loneliness curled into something even colder—Jason knew he was full of it. Every time he dragged her mother’s name through the mud, he was really just trying to bury how much he missed her. M/n was the only person who ever made him feel like more than a burden. She treated him like he mattered—like he was hers.

He cried harder than anyone when he found out she died. No one saw it. He made sure of that. But behind all the noise and anger and bravado, he wept for her. For the mother he never truly had, but almost did. Until she left. Until she abandoned him—right after he was kidnapped. After the Joker. After everything.

And now she was dead?

Jason couldn’t even look at photos of her without feeling like the world was cracking apart at the seams. He hated her for walking away. Hated her for dying. Hated how much he still loved her.

He had ignored Dick’s call two days ago. Didn’t want to hear anything that had to do with the manor. With Bruce. But something in Dick’s voice… something had kept him from deleting the message. So now here he was—back in the same house where everything had started to rot.

Dick looked like a wreck. Pale. Exhausted. Haunted.

Jason didn’t bother hiding his sneer. “What’s wrong with you, dickface?”

Dick barely looked up. “She’s dead.” His voice cracked like glass. He ran a trembling hand through his hair.

Jason blinked, confused. “Who?”

“M/n… I just wanted to tell you. She has a child. And she… she’s here.”

Dick couldn’t even finish. He left the room without another word.

Jason stood there for a long time. Heart pounding. Head spinning.

He wandered into the library, trying to escape the weight of it all. Grabbed a book—anything to pull him out of his own head. Tried to focus. Tried to not feel.

But the pages blurred. Wet. His hands were shaking.

Tears? No. No, stop that. I don’t care. I don’t fucking care.

But he did. God, he did.

No mission, no alias, no mask could erase the ache of being loved—and left behind.

She had come into his life. Treated him like a son. Then left. Had a baby. A new child. And then died.

Where was his closure? Where was his chance to protect her? To yell at her? To forgive her?

Jason slammed the book shut and sat frozen, chest heaving.

Then someone bumped into him.

His book hit the floor with a dull thud.

“Oh, sorry—” a small voice stammered.

He looked down.

It was like someone had punched him in the gut.

Those eyes. One blue. One [e/c].

His hands curled into fists.

So this is who she died for? This… replacement? This child? Is this the one who got her love in the end? Got her last words? Her final breath?

“Watch where you’re fucking going,” he snapped, voice low and venomous.

The girl looked down, ashamed. “...oh.”

He scoffed, bitterness thick in his throat. “Another one of Bruce’s adopted mistakes?”

“I-I’m his kid! I promise… a-and you’re my brother, right?” she said quietly, voice soft and trembling.

Jason didn’t answer. He smirked—sharp and humorless.

She thinks I’m her brother. Like she gets to call me that.

He knelt slightly, resting a heavy hand on her shoulder, watching her flinch beneath his grip. “Look, kid,” he said, voice like ice, “you’re just one of Bruce’s little distractions. And soon enough, he’ll forget about you too—just like everything else you care about. You’re not special. And I’m not your brother.”

He let her go and turned without another glance as she stumbled into the bookshelf behind her. The sound echoed like guilt.

But Jason kept walking.

And as he stormed off down the hallway, jaw clenched so tight it ached, he swore something to himself in silence.

‘You ruined the only good thing I ever had—just by being born. So don’t expect mercy. Not from me.’

Yuta explains that the Cursed Spirit is Rika, a childhood friend whom he had promised to marry when they grew up. Rika died in a freak accident and became an overprotective spirit that harms anyone who threatens him.

During his first mission with [Name], Yuta successfully summons Rika on his own for the first time to save them from a Cursed Spirit. Three months pass in his school training, and he grows close to [Name], Toge, and Panda. One day, on a mission together, Toge and Yuta are attacked by a high-level Curse. The man behind the attack was Suguru Geto, a previous student and old friend of Gojo, who defected from the school and killed over a hundred innocent people on a mission.

Geto attempts to get Yuta on his side so they can make use of Rika, but Yuta refuses when he insults Yuta's friends due to unsettled circumstances. Geto declares war to activate a portal to the under-world: he will release a thousand Curses upon the city to remove non-sorcerer humans, as he believes them to be undeserving and beneath sorcerers. Geto's real reason for the war, however, is to distract Gojo so he can kill Yuta and add Rika to his collection of cursed spirits. Gojo realizes this upon learning of Yuta's background, and sends Inumaki and Panda back to the school to protect Yuta and Maki during the night of Geto's attack. Geto overpowers them all, leaving only Yuta conscious. Enraged at seeing his friends hurt, Yuta promises himself as a sacrifice to Rika in order to strengthen their bond. As a result, Geto is severely wounded. He is found by Gojo, who after reflecting on their past friendship, executes him.

[name] stood quietly at the edge of the room, her gaze resting on Gojo’s sleeping form. The soft rise and fall of his chest was the only proof he was still here—still breathing, still fighting. But earlier… she’d seen his face after the fighting. The way his expression cracked when he thought no one was looking. The way his hands trembled before he shoved them deep into his pockets.

Her eyes drifted to the blindfold resting against his forehead, slightly askew. With a small breath, she stepped closer, fingers twitching nervously as she reached for it. She gently lifted it from his eyes, careful not to wake him, and replaced it with her own glasses, pressing them onto his face with a little huff.

she slipped the blindfold over her own eyes.

“Gosh, how does he see with this thing?” she muttered to herself with a crooked smile. “I’m literally blind right now.”

She took a step—and promptly bumped into the wall with a soft thud.

“Ow…” she mumbled, rubbing her arm.

Laughter—low and breathy—broke the silence behind her.

She whipped around, the blindfold slipping halfway off her face. Gojo was awake. Sitting up. Watching her.

And smiling.

His eyes—those eyes—were soft and bright like sunlight scattered across an endless ocean. Their glow lit something warm and dizzying inside her chest.

“H-HUH?! THIS IS A DREAM!” [name] blurted, panicking, leaping into the weirdest stance she could think of on the spot.

“Oh wow, I’m terrified,” he teased, clapping dramatically. “Is that… the ancient Fighting Crane meets Confused Flamingo technique? Legendary.”

[name] tried to hold the pose, struggling to stay serious. “Silence! I am the blindfolded warrior, guardian of the living room!” she declared, wobbling slightly to the left.

“Well then, oh mighty warrior,” he said with a mischievous glint in his bright blue eyes, “I challenge you to a duel. But only if you can pass… the tickle trial.”

“Huh? Wait no—NO!” she shrieked as Gojo lunged, grabbing her sides with the lightest poke.

She burst into uncontrollable giggles, twisting away and finally pulling off the blindfold in a fit of laughter.

“You blue eye bastard!” she panted, catching her breath.

He sat up, smiling softly now. “Yeah, I tend to break the rules. Especially for a smile like that.”

For a moment, there was silence—the good kind. Then his voice turned gentler.

“Hey, [name]… could you take that bandage off?”

She blinked, confused. “Oh. Sure—but I kinda can’t see too good with that eye,” she murmured, fingertips brushing the edge of the gauze as she slowly peeled it away.

Her partially blind eye met his, and he stared.

“I was right,” he whispered, stepping forward with small, steady steps.

“What?” she asked, her voice a whisper.

She felt it, then. The heat of tears soaking through her shirt. His shoulders trembled against her. The strongest man she knew was quietly falling apart in her arms

“You’re my daughter.”

She froze in his embrace. And then slowly, carefully, wrapped her arms around him, like maybe, just maybe—someone loves her.

A/N || sorry for the wait but here’s the chapter!!! And boom here’s the big plot twist!!! btw name won’t have six eyes or anything, just related to gojo!! SO YES GOJO IS OUR PAPI TOO GUYS 😜 (ALSO ANOTHER AUTHOR I LOVE LIKED MY SERIES AHHHHH!!!!! TYYYYYYY ILYSM (I follow you😝) Also about the genetics thing, M/n genes pull the stronger genes into [name] ,but there is a possible, a little chance that if there is a third party, their genetics can also be in said baby (not logically obvious)

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#yandere batfam #yandere bruce wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #neglected reader #yandere cassandra cain #yandere damian wayne #yandere duke thomas #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #yuta okkotsu #inumaki toge #panda #yandere stephanie brown

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pitchsidestories · 14 hours ago

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Three weddings and one new love II Patri Guijarro x Reader

romantic masterlist | platonic masterlist | word count: 2169

summary: Patri and Reader cross paths at three weddings. Each meeting brings them closer, but is it enough for something real to begin?

author's note: hi, like everyone else, we absolutely loved all the woso weddings and inspiration struck. We hope you enjoy the fanfic that came from it. <3

disclaimer: everything in this fanfiction is purely fictional and nothing corresponds to reality.

Lola and Cristina’s wedding was in full swing.

“Patri, do you remember her?” Leila’s question was innocent enough, but when the midfielder caught sight of you, she nearly choked on the champagne she’d been sipping.

Of course, Patri remembered. How could she not? But somehow, you were even more beautiful than she’d allowed herself to recall.

Noticing the brunette’s stunned expression, you laughed, light and effervescent, like the bubbles rising in your glass: “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Nice to see you again. It’s been a while.”, Patri said, recovering quickly. The midfielder felt the warmth rising to her cheeks. Normally, she was cooler, more composed. She blamed the heat. And the drinks.

“It’s nice to see you too.”, you replied, a soft smile on your lips.

“Are you enjoying the party so far?”, the Barcelona player asked, her voice casual, but her eyes lingering just a little too long.

“I do. What about you? I really like your dress.”, you said.

The sleeveless black dress hugged her figure effortlessly, the ink of her tattoos accentuating her sun-warmed skin.

Patri tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous smile playing on her lips: “Oh, thank you.” She paused, gesturing vaguely. “And yeah, Lola and Cristina know how to throw a party.”

You took a moment to absorb the atmosphere. Laughter drifted through the garden, and even usually composed Alexia was dancing in her pink dress, barefoot and carefree, with the bride.

“I’m not usually a fan of weddings, but this one’s something special.”, you confessed.

Patri grinned: “That’s a big compliment, then. Can I get you another drink?”

“Oh. Yes, please.”, you responded, returning her smile.

Like a true gentlewoman, she returned with fresh drinks for you both, gently clinking her glass against yours. “Cheers.” “Cheers.”

“It’s really beautiful.”, Patri murmured, her eyes scanning the joyful chaos unfolding around you.

You followed her gaze. The couple radiated happiness, surrounded by friends, laughter and the soft golden light of early evening.

Knowing them as well as you did, especially Lola, the goalkeeper who’d stood by you when everything in your career was falling apart, you felt a quiet swell of emotion. “I agree.”, you said, your voice low.

Patri turned to you, a playful tilt to her head:” Would you like to dance?”

Her brown eyes caught yours, deep and steady, and something warm unfurled in your chest. You hesitated, nerves fluttering at the edges.

“Oh, um… sure,” you nodded, speaking almost to yourself.

As you stepped onto the dance floor, the DJ smoothly shifted from a fast rhythm to a slow, melodic song. You both paused, smiling, a little shy, a little amused, before stepping closer.

Her hand found yours, and the space between you disappeared. The movement was easy, natural, like you’d rehearsed it without knowing. There was no need to speak, your bodies seemed to anticipate each other, flowing in quiet synchrony.

The moment, soft and perfect, was suddenly broken by the arrival of Irene, her expression tight with concern.

You watched as Patri’s eyebrows knotted together, looking over to her teammate.

“Patri? Can you help me find Mateo?”, Irene asked, the slightest hint of panic in her voice.

“I…”, Patri hesitated, looking back and forth between you and Irene until she nodded firmly: “Yeah, sure.”

She offered you an apologetic smile: “Sorry.”

You waved her off casually: “It’s fine. I need to check on Andrea, anyway, looks like she had enough to drink.”

With a final wry smile, Patri disappeared into the crowd. She eventually found Mateo several minutes later, sitting calmly beneath a table, hidden by the tablecloth and happily playing with his toy cars. The relief on Irenes face when she saw her son was immeasurable.

Happy to have been of help, Patri returned to where she left you earlier but you were gone.

“Ale? Do you have y/n’s number?”, she asked Alexia who was seated on a table nearby, sipping white wine.

She raised her eyebrows as she took another sip: “I don’t. Why?”

“I…”, Patri started. But what was she supposed to say? That she couldn’t find you after circling the parameter of the big yard three times already. That she felt something between you two and didn’t understand why you had just left?

Before she could find the right words, Leila chimed in, her eyes lighting up with excitement: “You want to see her again?!”

“Yeah?”, Patri answered carefully.

This caused Alexia shoot her a knowing, slightly pitying look. Patri wished she hadn’t even asked at all.

Summer break meant wedding season in the womens football world, so the next ceremony was only a couple days later. It felt like the celebrations were never-ending. But you weren’t complaining, not when it gave you another excuse to wear something fancy.

You were stuck in some small-talk with two men you didn’t know, and it quickly became clear that they were more interested in each other’s opinions than anything you had to say. You stood there politely, twirling the stem of your champagne flute between your fingers and pretending to listen. At least until a bright red jumpsuit caught your attention.

It was Patri, smiling carefully as she walked towards you.

You smiled back at her, grateful to have an excuse to leave the one-sided conversation: “You again. I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here.”

“Hi, I didn’t know you knew the brides.”, Patri greeted you and as she took in your uncovered arms added: “… or that you had any tattoos.”

You smirked at her, catching the way her gaze lingered on your body: “Wow, you underestimate me, Guijarro.”

“I did. I thought…”, she started, her cheeks turning pink.

“You thought I was just the girl next door? I feel like I should be offended.”, you teased, leaning in with a grin.

Clearing her throat, the midfielder defended herself: “I didn’t mean that.”

“I know.”, you said quickly, hoping to ease her visible nervousness.

Biting her lip, Patri murmured an apology.

“Yours are really pretty.”, you admitted, lightly tracing the inked lines on her upper arm with your finger. Was this still just friendly chatter between guests, or had it already tipped into flirting? You suspected the latter. You couldn’t help it, the banter between you was too good to resist.

Under your attention, she muttered: “Oh, thanks.”

“Although the tiger might be a bit cheesy.”, you added with a wink.

Pretending to be offended, the brunette shot back: “What? No, it’s cool.”

You chuckled: “Uh-huh.”

Then the mood shifted. A memory surfaced, the last wedding where you’d seen her, and how abruptly it had ended. Your voice softened: “Sorry for vanishing like some kind of Cinderella the last time we saw each other.”

“Is that a thing you do?”, Patri asked, her tone cautious. She didn’t want to be hurt again. The feeling of being left behind was still raw, it hadn’t been a few days ago.

You shook your head.: “Vanishing and leaving a pretty girl behind? No, usually not. At least, not on purpose.”

“So, I don’t have to be scared you’ll disappear again?” she questioned, watching you hopefully.

“No, I won’t do that.” You smiled, heart open. “You want me to stay?”

“I do.”, Patri confirmed, her voice barely a whisper. “I even asked the others for your number.”

“You did?”

Here was the thing, you had all played for the national team together. But after you left for England and refused any further call-ups, not much in the Spanish federation had truly changed. Just fragments. Bits and pieces. And there was still so much left to be desired. Which meant, of course, that none of her football friends would have your contact details.

“I can give you mine now,” you offered, pulling a pen from your small bag and scribbling your number on her arm.

“Thanks,” she responded softly.

“You’re welcome. I’m rarely in Spain these days, but I’m here most summers.”, you explained.

Nervously, she glanced at you, her voice quiet as she hinted at the dance you never got to finish last time: “That’s... fine. I just still owe you a dance.”

“You should do that now,” you replied with a smirk, nodding towards the dance floor. “One of my favourite songs is playing.”

Patri shrugged as if this opportunity was as good as any: “Okay, then.”

You took her hand in yours and led her onto the dance floor.

The music surrounded you both as you started to sway. Patri’s hands settled naturally on your waist, guiding your movements with the rhythm of her own body. She moved smoothly, like water. Almost like the way she played football, you thought.

“You’re surprisingly good at this.”, you smirked.

Patri smiled, lifting an eyebrow: “Surprisingly, huh?”

“Yeah, I mean you’re maestro on the field but the dance floor is very far from a pitch.”, you teased, biting your lip.

She tilted her head, considering for a moment and then said with a slightly challenging tone: “Can’t I be both?”

Her face was so close to yours now, the sunlight catching in her deep brown eyes.

“You can be even more than that.”, you murmured, your gaze locked on her.

You knew she stared at your lips. You waited for her to lean in. Maybe she was waiting for you too. The kiss never came.

And then the moment was gone. You had to leave right after this dance, but you had no idea how much chaos your exit would leave behind.

Later that night, with the music still playing and drinks still flowing, a fine sprinkle of rain began to fall over the wedding and Alexia came running towards her friend group, her high heels dangling from her fingers: “Olga! Leila! Patri is crying… and she won’t tell me why!”

They found her outside, sitting on the venue steps, quietly sobbing and mascara smudging underneath her eyes.

Leila crouched down beside her: “What happened?”

“I had her number but it vanished… just like her.”, Patri sniffed, pointing towards the fading writing on her arm that was almost completely washed away by a mix of sweat and rain.

“Aw, cariño…”, Olga sighed, brushing strands of hair out of Patris face.

“It’s okay. I’m sure we can get her number somehow.”, Leila said softly.

“Promise.”, Olga added, squeezing her shoulder.

Patri wiped her eyes and looked up to them. The crying had finally stopped.

The third wedding was Laia’s. Just as beautiful as the last two ceremonies and with a lot of familiar faces on the guest list.

When you walked in, you noticed one table right away.

“Patri. Get up and stop pouting.”, Ona ordered, elbowing her in the ribs.

Patri was seated next to her, frowning into her champagne glass.

“She’s here!”

“Stop messing with me.”, the midfielder muttered, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

Unmoved by her teammate’s theatrics, Ona gave a half-smile: “I’m not. She and Laia go way back to their Atlético days. So come on now.”

Patri’s head shot up: “Wait, are you serious?”

With a sigh, Ona grabbed her arm and gently tugged her to her feet. She turned her toward the other side of the courtyard, where you stood talking to the bride, laughing in the golden dusk.

“I am.”, Ona said simply.

Laia’s voice rang out beside you, warm and sure. She rested her arm on your shoulder: “I hope you’ll come visit me in Barcelona soon.”

You smiled, hugging her close: “Of course I will.” The promise was meant for her, but when your eyes flicked past her shoulder and found the one woman you'd seen at the last two weddings, your heart quietly wondered if the promise might stretch to her too.

Beaming, Laia announced: “I’ll go find my husband.”

“Okay.”

Their happiness was contagious, easy, natural. It was beautiful to see someone you’d known so long marry the man who had cried the moment she stepped into view at the ceremony.

You and Laia shared one last hug. Then, as you turned, you almost stumbled straight into Patri.

“Oh, hi.”, you mumbled, nerves fluttering in your chest.

“Hey.”, she replied, calm on the outside, though her heart was pounding. Three weddings. Third time’s the charm, maybe this was the moment, like in all the films and books.

You gestured toward the happy couple: “Laia and I were just talking, I’ve got to visit her in Barcelona soon.”

“Yeah,” Patri said. “It’s great to have her back.”

You nodded. “You lot are lucky.”

“We are.”

You hesitated, searching her face: “What if I want to see you too, not just Laia?”

Her expression lit up, hope blooming across her pretty face: “You want to visit me?”

“Yeah.” You smiled. “I really do.”

“I’d like that.”, Patri answered, and stepped a little closer. She kissed your cheek soft, deliberate, her lips brushing just a little too close to yours.

Three weddings and maybe, this was the first chapter of your own little love story.

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mydear-corinthian · 23 hours ago

Text

old man

synopsis - after a mission, you and Bucky were forced to stay in a cabin until Steve and the others arrived. In the middle of a small argument, you said something you regretted… or did you?

pairing - bucky barnes x avenger! reader

warnings - SMUT +18, enemies to ..?, small argument, one bed trope, dom!bucky, overstimulation, creampie, squirting, dirty talk, p in v, (y/n) mentioned once

notes - inspired by that one fic of duncan vizla i read here ^_^ divider by enchanthings-a

main masterlist | marvel masterlist

For how many months was the Avengers' primary mission to locate the small Hydra bases around the world? It's not exactly a new task for you. You and Bucky were assigned to this mission, which involved searching Romanian woods for a batch of super-soldier serum.

It painted the white, cold snow, and the bodies of the Hydra soldiers covered in blood adorned the area outside the small base.

“We got ‘em, Cap,” you said as you touched your earpiece, breathing hard after you just fought the last Hydra men.

“Good. You two must stay put first while the others continue to locate bases in the area. There is a bunker in that location. You and Bucky can stop by there until everyone is done with their mission and then we’ll pick you up.” Steve replied on the comms.

A frown replaced your smile. What do you mean stay on put? With Bucky?

It's not really the kind of person you get along with, Bucky Barnes. He’s mysterious, cold, distant– everything. You don’t exactly have a good relationship with him. The both of you often argue with the smallest things– from a box of cereal, when training, just every single interaction you had with him.

It felt more like divine retribution than an assignment when Steve revealed that you and Bucky would be working together on the mission. Like the universe had looked you dead in the eye and said, “Yeah, suffer.”

Out of all the people they could’ve assigned, they gave him Bucky. The one person you swore you’d never work with.

What a wonderful day right!

"Aw, come on! We retrieved the serums already. Can we just go home and call it a day?” you groaned.

“Yeah, Steve. I’d rather go home. Or into a coma. Whichever gets me out of this faster,” Bucky muttered.

You didn’t bother hiding your annoyance, eyes rolling before Bucky even finished his sentence. It was exhausting to be around him, as if seven years of your life were being chipped away by every second. But he’s right, you’d rather get out of this mess immediately.

The both of you heard Steve chuckled from the comms, “I’m sorry, lovebirds. You guys really gotta wait. Make this a perfect moment to stop fighting each other and offer peace.”

Lovebirds

Fuck that.

“Whatever. Just send us the coordinates.”

“Sending now.”

It took almost an hour to find the bunker. Every step felt slow and heavy, and the entire trail was blanketed in thick snow that was at least a foot deep. The cold wind blew through the trees, and everything was quiet except for the sound of your boots crunching the snow.

When you finally saw it, the bunker looked small — way smaller than you expected. It was hidden at the edge of the clearing, almost buried under snow. The walls were old and rusty, and the roof looked like it might cave in if it snowed any harder.

“What a nice AirBnB huh,” you sarcastically commented as soon as you saw it.

Bucky didn’t mutter a single word and went inside right away. You hurriedly followed him, not wanting to get locked outside. As soon as he opened the door, your mouth hung open.

One bed.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You put your go-bag on the little table in front of the bed, exhausted and defeated, while Bucky locked the door firmly and looked for items the S.H.I.E.L.D. had left behind. You removed your black parka jacket and folded it beside your bag. On the other hand, Bucky found two guns covered in a plastic zip-lock that was placed under the bed.

“You gonna shower?” you asked, looking up at him. “You can go first. I’m still arranging my stuffs.”

Bucky simply nodded, not having the strength to argue anymore. He grabbed his whole bag and brought it with him to the bathroom. You sighed, getting up and grabbed the guns. Ripping the plastic open, you inspected them carefully before putting the bullets in then placed both on the nightstand. One for you, one for Bucky.

The mattress was supringsly soft but still small for the both of you. Your head was clouded with thoughts as soon as you sat on the bed. The both of you fight. A lot. Practically every time the both of you talk. And yet… sometimes, you wish we could just sit down and have a real conversation. Just talk. But you know it’s not that easy—especially not with someone like him. He’s so quiet, so withdrawn, like he’s always trying to disappear into the background. You get it. They broke him and made him into something he never wanted to be, and you know what Hydra did to him. Everyone talks about the Winter Soldier as if he were just that. But you don’t care about that. I want to know James. Bucky. The man. Not the myth, not the weapon. Just… him

Your thoughts were interrupted as soon as you heard the knob twisted from the bathroom. Bucky got out of the shower with some new clothes on. The sight was.. something for you to feel things.

The tight active dry shirt was hugging his biceps so much. He was also wearing a plain shirt and his hair.. oh god his hair. It was still a bit wet but god he looks good.

“You can go next,” Bucky said while he wiped his hair with a white towel that was sitting on his shoulders.

You instantly grabbed your clothes and towel to cover up the blush that had appeared on your cheek. Closing the bag, you walked past him and went inside the bathroom.

It was small but it’ll do. It was a miracle that it has a heater— definitely can’t find that in a cabin like this. As you started rubbing soap all over your body, you can’t help but thought of Bucky again. Are you actually having a crush on him?

He’s smart, tall, strong.. and definitely handsome. He might be cold and harsh but there are some times that he’ll ask you if you're okay after debfreifing and he never doubted your skills– which is a big thing for you.

After you finished taking a shower, you found Bucky reading his own copy of The Hobbit. His face looked calm, collected, and.. hot?

"What is up with you and that book?" you asked.

"Huh?"

You rolled your eyes. "That's the 1937 book, right? The one that you've been bragging and literal is old like you."

"I'm not that old," he sighed, putting the book on top of the night stand.

"You're like 120 yea—"

"107."

"Same thing! You even got that old man's attitude."

"Oh really now?"

“You’re so old I bet it won’t even stand up anymore,” you bit.

Oh shit.

You definitely did not dodge a damn missile on that one.

Bucky paused for a bit. He looked at your eyes and god you were terrified. You thought that maybe you slipped through the line with that joke. You were mentally punching yourself. You were waiting for a slap on your face or even a gun but nothing. Why the fuck did you even say that?

It wasn’t nothing.

But his lips on yours.

Bucky’s hands suddenly grabbed your face, firm and desperate, and before you could breathe—he kissed you. Hard. Your heart slammed against your chest, wild and thunderous, like it was trying to answer him.

"You really need to shut that mouth of yours, huh?" he murmured.

Your mouth parted when his tongue brushed your lips, asking for an entrance— wait asking? He didn't need to. He did it right away. Bucky's rough palms guided towards your neck, titling it to taste you more.

"Mmm—" you moaned.

He didn't hesitate to slide his fingers down to your stomach then to your shorts, toying with the garter as he continued playing his lips with your mouth. He swiftly removed your black shorts, together with your panties— soaking wet—, and tossed them somewhere the room.

You whimpered when you felt his fingers brushed your pussy, making a slick of wetness sound. You arched your back and clenched your fists around the bed linens.

"Jesus— you're soaking," he teased.

Bucky's vibranium arm left your face and started to unzip his pants swiftly. His cock sprung free. Hard. And definitely big. Pre-cum leaking out from his swollen tip.

Aligning himself, he began to slide it in— swiftly. Bucky smirked at the sight.

"Oh my god. Fuck— my dick fits perfectly inside you, huh?"

"Bucky! Wa-it—!" you choked.

Bucky was stretching your hole so much that it hurt. You didn't expect for him to be big— THAT big. You can feel his veins kissing your walls, his tip meeting your pelvis aggressively. Your eyes rolled so much you felt like your eyes were facing backwards now.

"You take me so well, doll. You're squeezing me like your pussy knows me, so don't even pretend you don't like this."

As he sank farther, your legs locked with his. You whimpered, groaned, and repeatedly chanted his name as if it were a damned prayer. You never imagined for this to feel good and to be doing this with.. Bucky. Someone who gives you a cold glare. Someone who doesn't even talk to you. Someone you never thought you'd fall for.

Bucky looked at you. Your eyes.

Not with lust.

But a hint of love.

It was wrong, and he knew it. It was wrong for someone like him to fall to a woman like you. He's a murderer. A criminal. A monster. But he shook his head mentally, ignore all the negative thoughts for now.

"F-feels good, Bucky.. aah—"

Bucky's arms were beside you, holding himself as he thrusted in and out. The silver dog tags on his neck moved crazily. His biceps were flexed at his pace. He leaned forward to you until his face was just half a inch apart from you. You can feel his hot breath whenever he groans. You can see how his eyebrows furrowed everytime you clench on him.

You broke the distance; kissing him up. It was sloppy. Wet. Lusful. An action that speaks to continue and pace up. Both of your lips were glossy. You heard him groan again as he went inside deeper. Bucky was hitting the spots that your fingers cannot even reach— and damn he is good at it.

He looked at you with that dumb smirk of his and broke the kiss, leaving a trail of saliva between your lips and his.

"Didn't know that a damn insult is all that you need for me to fuck you like this, hm?"

"Mmp—! F-fuck you, Barnes."

"I am, doll."

Bucky straightened his posture. His metal arm grabbed your left leg and then placed it on his shoulder, allowing himself to push himself even further. You let out a loud moan when you felt him fucking the spongy spot. His head rolled back and eyes were closed from the pleasure.

"Please.. Bucky," you beg as a knot forms in your stomach.

"Please what, doll?"

"'m so close— I think I'm gonna cum.. Oh god!" you writhed.

He let out a chuckle. His pace going faster, harder. More desperate. More power. More possessive.

"Yeah? My girl's gonna come? Go on, doll."

After a few more thrusts, the knot on your lower stomach finally ripped off. You clenched on him as you came hard. You were a moaning mess.

But Bucky didn't pulled out just yet. You felt a cold touch on your clit; his finger circling figure of eights with his thumb. You whined and whined from the continuous pleasure until you felt like it was too much. Too hard to handle. Too good.

"No— wait! Too much, Bucky! I can't!" you whimpered.

"Shh.. I know, doll. But I can't just stop especially when you're still squeezing me."

You curled up your toes, arching your back, and gripped the pillows tightly as the pleasure became too much. You were overstimulated and overwhelmed. The sound of your bodies slamming into each other echoed all over the small cabin. His finger flicking your clit so fast and well until you felt another wave of orgasm incoming.

"Aah!— Too much.. too much! Mmp—"

You finally squirted. Your juices were all over his cock as he continued pumping inside you. A wet puddle started to soak on the white bedsheets.

"Jesus Christ, doll— So good for me. Look at you so vulnerable, so addicted."

Your eyes closed again from the overstimulation. Your legs were trembling. Bucky's pace slowly slowed down and turned sloppy. His moans and grunts were getting louder and louder.

"You were talking shit about me earlier and now I'm cumming inside you," he teased.

With one final deep thrust, he spurted all of his cum inside you— rope after rope after rope, filling you. His head rested on your shoulder for a bit, waiting every drop to store inside your fucked pussy.

Your legs collapsed. Your chest violently heaved up and down. Bucky then pulled out slowly and when he did, his cum dripped down on your ached hole. Letting out a choked moan, you clench on nothing; suffering from the phantom cock.

"All you need is pissing me off so I can fuck you? Very smart idea, doll."

The next morning came. The both of you finished packing. After a few more minutes, the sound of the Quinjet rang into both of your ears. The door opened, revealing Steve and Natasha.

Bucky walked first, holding his black backpack that was hanging on his left shoulder. He greeted Steve and looked at you. You grabbed your go-bag and wobbled to Natasha.

"Woah, (y/n). Are you injured?" the red hair woman asked as she offered her hand to you. "What happened? We'll bring you to the Medbay as soon as we ar–"

"Oh trust me, she's fine. She just did cardio last night," Bucky replied with a smirk forming on his lips before going to the Quinjet.

Steve's eyebrows furrowed. "How can she do cardio in the middle of the ni— OH."

#x reader #marvel #marvel smut #marvel x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier #winter soldier smut #winter soldier x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut

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paulyenvol6 · 3 days ago

Text

Delicate

Based on this amazing request (Thank you so much, I had a blast writing this :)). Just wanted to let you know that I haven't watched Materialists yet so I'm sorry if I wasn't able to capture Harry's character so well, but I tried my best! Anyways, enjoy <3

Contains: fluff, sweetness overload, brief mentions of anxiety and panic, little bit of crying but nothing heavy, mentions of alcohol, kissing, suggestive tension

Wordcount: 7,796

Masterlist

You nibbled at your thumb and instantly cursed yourself as you dropped your hand.

You weren't supposed to be so nervous. And you certainly weren't supposed to fall back into your old habits and bite your nails out of nervousness. This was just a date after all, a nice dinner at a beautiful restaurant to see how the two of you would be going along.

On one hand you didn't want to go into this with too many expectations. But when you thought about Harry, his gentle smile and soft brown eyes you couldn't help it. You couldn't help but feel your heart clench and as much as it could be caused by sheer anxiety, part of you knew that after your first meeting at the wedding last week, you sort of had a little… crush? Who could blame you, really? He was a dream. A perfect, surreal dream that was almost too good to be real.

"Hi!"

You twirled around, clumsy hands reaching for the wall of the building next to the restaurant to ground yourself and prevent yourself from stumbling.

"H-Hi, Harry," you smiled, your heartrate shooting up, but the curl of your lips genuine. Then your gaze dropped to what he was holding in his left hand and this time your heartbeat didn't fasten, but on the contrary, it stopped for a brief moment. He had a bouquet of flowers in his hand, with shades of purple and violet catching your eyes as you took in the various tulips, asters, petunias, and clematis.

"Oh," you made and involutarily squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassement. This was the worst reply you could think of. No 'thank you' or 'wow', just a stupid 'oh'.

"It's very good to see you," Harry said, smirking as he handed you the bouquet of flowers. "For you. You mentioned that purple is your favorite color, so I thought…"

He left the sentence unfinished, but your eyes were on the bright purple anyway. The muscles around your mouth were twitching and tingling, an untamable chaos thrumming in your stomach as you took the bouquet with trembling hands and then looked up to him again.

Say something. Thank you. Anything.

"Thank you so much," you eventually said, a little too late, but still reasonable.

"You're welcome," he answered, invitingly raising his eyebrows."I can carry the bouquet while we go inside. It might be a bit unwieldy. Besides, you've got your purse."

You blinked a few times and all you were able to think about was how dumb and slow you must look to him. It took you an extra 10 seconds to process each of his words, and then you responded with as few words as possible.

"Yeah, that'd be great. And really, thank you. I love the color purple and the flowers are so pretty." You were content with yourself now, softly exhaling as Harry glanced at your profile while offering you his arm.

"I'm glad. There were two bouquets I liked and had to choose between and I wasn't really sure which one to take, but I was in a rush because I obviously didn't want to make you wait and so I was forced to make a decision. Sorry for being a little late by the way."

You chuckled, turning toward him while taking his arm.

"You were not late. I was a bit too early."

Harry pushed the door open, but you were too absentminded to observe your surroundings such as the waiter standing by the door, the dimly lit interior of the italian restaurante, the bar and the flower bouquets by the entrance that didn't quite match the color of your flowers, but didn't look any less pretty. You were so taken by Harry, he was like a black hole sucking in all your attention and making you hyperaware of every single detail of him – the things you had already noticed the day you had met him as well as the new ones. The little scar on his hairline, the few grey strands highlighting his thick black hair and of course his indistinct smile. The way it seemed to reach his eyes at once, making them shimmer and radiate warmth and comfort, which you found remarkable considering the fact that you had only just met him.

Harry exchanged a few words with the waiter, but you couldn't hear them. Not just because you were daydreaming about the man next to you, but also because of the loud noises in the restaurant. For a moment you feared that the muffled mumuring and loud laughter might impose a struggle for your conversation, but it turned out the waiter was leading you to a table slightly away from the others. The distant piano music was still in your ear, but a lot more subtle now and so was the mumbling from the other guests.

Harry, the polite gentleman that he was, pulled back the chair, waited until you had sat down and then adjusted it while you smiled over your shoulder.

"Thank you. Your manners really are remarkable. I almost feel bad because I wasn't taught all of this."

He grinned while taking his seat across the table.

"Don't. I like things to be a little romantic. Or, you know… I like a retro vibe at times. But I don't demand or - or god forbid expect the same from the people around me."

You nodded and ran your eyes over the cutlery spread out in front of you, swallowing at the sight of four spoons, four knives, and four forks. This was an expensive establishment and although you weren't surprised by Harry taking you somewhere fancy, you still felt a little lost.

"It's so beautiful in here. I love the tapestries and the paintings. Do you come here often?"

"Not really. I like to save this place for special occasions."

God he was a flirt and the wink of his left eye didn't exactly improve the situation. You were his special occasion and despite acknowledging his words for a polite gesture, you found that it wouldn't have been necessary to answer that way. Maybe…, just maybe he actually saw potential for this, just like you did.

"But do you have any recommendations?" you wanted to know, hoping that the slight flushness on your face would be swallowed by the bad lightning.

"They have good pasta. I had the mushroom pasta once and I liked it," Harry answered with such a welcoming smile that you felt like your awkwardness didn't matter at all. He was encouraging you, giving you signs that none of this was odd or uncomfortable with subtle gestures such as his flashing eyes or his soft tone when he was adressing you.

"Maybe I'm gonna try that one then," you said more to yourself and dropped your eyes to the menu. The prices next to the selections of food were making your eyes widen, but you had a strong feeling, Harry hadn't accidentally chosen this place. At least you didn't want to order the most expensive meal on the menu, so you actually decided to go with the mushroom pasta.

"How was your day?" Harry asked once the waiter had taken your orders (Pasta Arrabiata for your date) and leaned over the table, elbows resting on the surface.

"Oh whatever," you wryly grinned, swinging your head to the side as you made yourself comfortable on the cushion.

"What does that mean?" he asked, wrinkling his forehead.

"Work was a little stressful. And I got into a fight with my sister. But you know… I was just thinking of our dinner tonight and that kept me going."

Harry returned the smile, his hand toying with the salt shaker, but his eyes on you.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Yes. If you really wanna know… My sister's getting married soon and I wanna be supportive and patient and you know, be calm even when she freaks out, but today I don't know…" You sighed, wiping over your eyes. "I was stressed because of work and then we met for lunch and I immediatly saw how nervous and restless she was and so we were both kind of strained and had a fight. Over something stupid, it doesn't even really matter. But now I feel bad because I feel like I have to be a better sister and I'm unsupportive because this is such a special time for her and I wasn't there for her today."

Harry nodded in understanding, biting down on his lip as he watched you.

"I'm sorry. But your feelings are valid too. You felt stressed and overloaded and that means you deserve someone to be there for you too."

You carefully glanced up to him, feeling so relieved and touched by his words, but regretful over the fact that it had taken less than 5 minutes for you to complain and pour your heart out to him. What must he think of you? That you were an emotionally unstable drama queen who wasn't capable of having normal small talk? You sighed, forcing your lips to curl into a smile.

"Thank you. And… I'm sorry, I don't wanna bother you with my problems now while we are in such a nice place. How was your day?"

Harry lowly chuckled, chewing on his bottom lip and was just about to say something when the waiter came to bring your beverages. A bottle of Sangiovese and two glasses that he placed in front of the two of you. After he had poured you an appropriate amount of the deep red liquid, Harry looked at you again.

"Now I forgot what I wanted to say… Oh yeah I know: don't apologise, okay? I'm glad you feel comfortable talking to me about stuff like this and I'm happy to listen. And you're not bothering me with it. If it makes you feel better, I'm all ears for you. Okay?"

You laughed, your finger tracing the base of the wine glass and a telling pink creeping up on your cheeks.

How could someone be that nice?

Your face was glowing, your heart pounding in your chest as you gave him a nod.

"Good," he answered, leaning back in his chair and raising his glass along with you.

"To good conversation then," he grinned and your glasses gently clinked together, producing a soft, tinkling sound.

"Damn small talk," you joined and then took a careful sip from the wine.

"Oh it's good," you said once you had removed the glass from your lips and put it back down on the table.

"It is. And I thought it would go well with both of your pastas." Harry did the same thing as you, lowering the glass and then tilting his head.

"Oh and you asked about my day… Not that stressful fortunately. But I did have a weird encounter with a cat on my way to work."

"With a cat?" you giggled.

"Yeah. She wouldn't stop following me until I was about to step into the office building. I don't know what it was, but I guess I should feel flattered."

You smirked and rested your chin on your palm, watching Harry with a sparkle in your eyes.

"You should've adopted her. Maybe you just met your soulmate."

"I do hope that my soulmate is not a cat," he scoffed. "And maybe I need to keep myself available for now. Not jump into a new relationship while I'm getting to know someone as lovely as you."

You almost shuddered at his words, a warm shiver rushing down your spine in the most comforting way.

"You're right about that. And I mean I couldn't possibly compete with a cat like that. Especially when she's so loyal to you."

Harry winked, taking another sip from his wine.

"I don't think you have to worry about that. Not being able to compete with a cat, I mean."

The two of you laughed and only now did you realise how comfortable and at ease you were. There was no trace left of the initial nervousness and you could only once again silently thank Harry for his endearing and calm nature.

Soon the food came and a little later the two of you were deeply invested in a hot-headed discussion about literature. You found out about his love for modernism and that his favorite author was Kafka and long after your plates were empty and all that was left of the wine were a few stains at the edge of the glasses, your conversation drifted to music. Harry turned out to be a big fan of 70s and 80s music and you were more than happy to have found an equally passionate counterpart when it came to your favourite bands and musicians. And then, noticing your yawns that grew more regular over time, Harry cleared his throat, dimples visible as he raised his eyebrows.

"Are you tired?" he asked, his voice so soft and husky that you felt goosebumps rise on your arms.

"Yes, a little. I think it would be good to get home soon, I have to be at work early tomorrow," you admitted, apologetically pursing your lips.

"Of course. How did you get here, do you want me to drive you home?" he asked, but already scanned the restaurant for a waiter.

"No, no, that's alright. I took the subway."

He stopped in the motion, his gaze lingering on your eyes and a frown visible on his brow.

"I'm not gonna let you take the subway so late. I'm afraid I have to insist."

You were doubtful, but couldn't deny the bubbly coil in your stomach area. He was sweet and affectionate and unfortunately you were the kind of person to fall for stuff like that.

"But it's not really on your way, is it?" you whispered nonetheless because you really didn't want him to waste his time and be the reason for it.

"Y/n," he said, carefully, almost shyly, placing his hand on top of yours, which made the corners of your mouth lift.

"I want to drive you home. It's about 15 minutes. Otherwise you would have to take the train and not only wouldn't it be safe, but this is much faster. Please let me."

What were you to say against this? You found you had no choice but to approve, but thanked him a million times in the next few minutes until Harry once again stated that you were doing him a favor by letting him drive you.

"I wouldn't be able to have a peaceful drive home if I was worried about your safety."

Then you stayed silent about the topic and found yourself in his passenger seat five minutes later. His expensive passenger seat, as it might be worth mentioning. The leather felt cool against your naked thigh and although Harry had told you that he drove the black mercedes for almost 4 years now, it still smelled new and fresh. Of warm vinyl, something clean and money.

Harry had held you the door open and now walked around the car to take his seat on the other side.

"Ready to go?" he asked once the two of you had fastened your belts and glanced at your profile with a mischievous smile.

"Always," you replied and then the bright lights around you, the distanced red of some traffic lights, the logo of a cinema across the street and the lights behind the restaurant winows began dancing before your eyes as Harry started the drive to your apartment.

"I had a really good time tonight," he said after a few seconds, his eyes on the street, but his pupils flickering like he had to fight the urge not to look at you to watch you for your reaction.

"So did I. I would love to do it again," you answered, but then furrowed your brow. "But I can't have you invite me to such an expensive restaurant again, Harry. Although this was probably the best pasta I've ever had."

"Then why not? I like making you happy and I don't mind. But if you really want to do something else, I know a nice bar just down the street. We could meet there and grab something to drink later this week. Maybe it would also be better to do something earlier so you won't be tired for work the next day."

You had to bite your lip, partly because you loved the way he cared about you, remembering all the little signs and things you had said earlier, but also because the prospect of going out with him again this week made you fear for the sound that might escape your throat.

"I would love that. Just tell me when and where," you grinned and excitedly intertwined your fingers.

"Perfect. What do you think about Thursday? I get off work at 6, so maybe 7?"

You could only nod with a stupid smile glued to your lips, but Harry couldn't see it anyways.

"So we're making plans before you have even dropped me off… I'd say that's a good sign, right?"

His teeth scraped his lower lip, a brief glimpse in your direction the only answer you received.

You tapped on your phone screen, your breath coming out in sharp hitches.

6:57.

You would make it, you were sure. The bar was just around the corner and you still had 3 minutes, so you just had to hurry up a little. But you didn't want to be soaked with sweat when you arrived.

What was more important? Being on time or your face not glistening with sweat?

Fuck it, you thought and slowed down. One or two minutes too late wasn't a big deal. Last time you had waited for Harry for 5 minutes, but to be fair, you had been 10 minutes early. You briefly closed your eyes, shaking your head to clear your mind and forcing your racing breath to calm down. Everything would be fine and overthinking it would only make you more nervous.

You were heading around the corner now, blinking a few times at the sun-drowned street and raising your hand to protect your eyes from the soft, golden rays. You looked at your phone again. 5:59 and no text from Harry.

A part of you, a strange, anxious and insecure part of you feared to get a massage cancelling the date from him, but at the same time the rational part of you knew that he wouldn't do that. It was him after all.

Him, who you hadn't been able to stop thinking about for the past two days. Him, who had been haunting your mind like a ghost howling around a scary, decayed lodge and him, who was now standing in front of the bar a few feet away from you.

You waved, but instantly felt awkward doing it so you lowered your hand. Harry had noticed you though and turned toward you, the smile on his face visible even from the distance.

"Hey!" he said once you were in reach and determindely took a step toward you, pulling you in for a gentle hug, which you welcomed with an inaudible happy sigh. He was so warm, so soft and big. His hands were on your back, sprawled out on the small of your back and stroking up and down your clothed skin.

"Very good to see you. You look beautiful" he said against your hair.

It took you much too long to answer him, your senses overstimulated and cloudy from the smell of his aftershave in your nose, but when you eventually did, Harry had already withdrawn, leaving you disappointed that the body contact had ended so soon.

"Thank you, so do you. And I'm happy to see you too. How have you been doing? Any more weird encounters with cats?"

"Oh way too many," Harry answered, chuckling softly and putting his hands in his front pockets.

He looked absolutely gorgeous tonight, wearing a black turtelneck, a jacket and plain, grey tousers that fitted him suspiciously well. So well that you were almost sure they were tailored to his body.

"But no, she luckily left me alone. You get aaaaall my attention tonight, I swear. Should we go in? Then you gotta tell me about the concert. I'm just happy to see you and the band wasn't so taken by you that they took you on tour with them."

Harry placed a hand on the small of your back, gently guiding you to the door and you immediately felt your heartrate picking up as the warmth of his palm spread in your body. You just hoped that it wouldn't be too hot inside because you were already struggling here, the air somehow stuffy although a cool breeze was blowing through the city.

Soft piano music was lingering in the air as Harry opened the door, taking a step aside, so you could enter the bar. You were welcomed by indistinct mumbling combined with the tinkling jazz notes the woman by the piano produced with her elegant slender hands dancing over the keyboard.

"Over there?" you said over your shoulder, your hand gesturing to a table in the corner of the bar, and approached it once Harry had given you a nod.

The butterflies were awakened at the sight of him taking off his jacket and putting it over his chair. Tonight you noticed a ring on his pinky finger, a green emerald if your eyes weren't mistaken by the dim light.

"And?" Harry said loudly to overcast the noises from a larger group of people gathered by the counter.

"What?" you asked, frowning in confusion.

"Tell me about the concert."

"Oh right. It was amazing. Absolutely amazing. My friend and I were at the venue at like… I think like 3pm and I'm eternally grateful to her for calling in sick for the afternoon just so we could be there early. I don't think my legs are every gonna recover from standing so long, but it was amazing. And it was worth it, we were second row."

You wore a broad smile, your eyes sparkling as you told about the perfect night that had happened the day before and reached for your phone in your back pocket.

"You wanna see a picture?"

"Sure," Harry said, leaning over the table to watch the photos on your phone.

"Oh wow. You really had a great view. And – oh I see... the bass you told me about."

"Yes," you grinned proudly, turning your phone so you could take another look at the instrument of your dreams.

"It sounded soooo good, you wouldn't be able to imagine it. And to take a look at it from up close? It was more than I could pray for. And of course the band… They were magical. One of the best concerts I've ever been to, and the crowd, the vibes… I'm already missing it."

Harry watched your screen for a few more seconds before leaning back in his chair again, wrinkles around his eyes as he tapped with his fingers over the wooden surface of the table.

"I'm really glad you had a good time and everything turned out so well. Do you know how many people were there?"

"Mhmm I'm really bad at estimating stuff like that, but maybe… I don't know, like 4000 people? It wasn't a large show, but not super small either."

With trembling hands you put the phone back into your pocket. Not only because just thinking about the show from last night made you all excited and pumped with adrenaline again, but also because you almost lost it at the way Harry seemed genuinely interested in what you had been doing and were telling him right now. You felt appreciated and seen. Like this man sincerely wanted to know about you and what was going on in your life and you could honestly say that no man had ever made you feel like that.

"But what about you? Anything special that happened the last days?"

Harry thoughtfully pursed his lips, scratching his temple and crossing his legs under the table.

"I met with my brother, which was nice. But apart from that just a lot of work. Which is fine, I don't wanna complain, but I almost feel bad that this is all I can report from the last two days."

"No, don't. I don't go to a concert every week. This was special for me too."

Harry smiled at you, taking in your face and the softness around your eyes. His knee briefly brushed against your leg, making your heart skip a beat and you wondered how you would ever be able to initiate any kind of physical contact if you reacted to the briefest touch of his knee like that.

"Good. I don't wanna lie to you, I'm not the biggest party person. I like going out like this or have dinner at a restaurant or go to the movies, but my favorite nights are nights in."

"I get that. I love a solid night on the couch with a good movie and takeout food."

At this point, you were interrupted by a waiter taking your orders which consisted of two beers, but once he was gone, Harry picked up the conversation right where it had stopped.

"Noted," he smirked and you would have giggled like a teenage girl, hadn't you swallowed the sound in the last second.

"Did I mention that I have pets, by the way?" you tried to avert from your childish reaction, planting your elbows on the table.

"No, you haven't. What pets?"

"You can guess. I give you three options, but it's a bit unusual."

Harry narrowed his eyes, but nodded.

"Okay. I'm all ears."

"A: Two sand boas, B: axolotls or C: an ant colony."

You triumphantly glanced at him, watching as you could hear it rattle behind his scalp and challengingly lifting your eyebrows once Harry opened his mouth.

"I'm going for… Okay let me explain my thought process: It's not the axolotl. I don't know why, there is no explanation, but I just don't see you with one."

"Do you know me that well already, Harry Castillo?" you hissed through small eyes, but Harry just laughed it off and pointed at you.

"No, no, no. Don't you play mind tricks with me. I mean it could be the axolotl. But I don't think so for some reason. In my head you wouldn't really like them. And then… I think a sand boa is a bit more conventional, right? I think I'm saying A. Just because… I honestly really don't know why, but I pick A."

You hesitated for a moment, savouring the curious and prying look from your opposite before you slowly folded your hands in front of you.

"It's C. The ant colony."

Harry's face dropped, a fist bumping on the table as his face drew with exasperation.

"Damn it. But honestly… I'd call it a win. I said that it's not the axolotl and I was right. I just know you."

"Harry, you said A. And it was C. I wouldn't call that a win."

The two of you broke into laughter, your body vibrating until Harry chewed on his bottom lip.

"So an ant colony… That's cool. How did you come up with it?"

Before you could answer, your beers were brought to the table, your warm, sweaty hands instantly reaching for the cold glass. When the waiter was gone, you cleared your throat.

"That's actually a very good question. My family and I had a big garden growing up with lots of insects obviously. My mother loves gardening and she always specifically planted plants that are bee and butterfly friendly. My sisters and I always used to play in the garden and I don't know, maybe it's just some childhood thing, but a couple of years ago I was thinking about having a little pet in my apartment and I knew that my place would be much too small for a dog or cat so I thought why not something smaller."

"And you went for the very small ones," Harry chuckled, wrapping a hand around his glass.

"I did, yeah. But I love them. They are easy to keep, they aren't a lot of work but I still like looking at them. They might not be as cute as a dog, but in my apartment that would be animal cruelty. I wouldn't have enough time for a dog anyway."

"I get that. I love dogs too, but I would only get one if I lived in the countryside. Ants are nice though. They don't make loud noises or take up much space. Although… I haven't asked how big the terrarium is."

He watched you with acted suspicion, eliciting a scoff from you.

"Don't worry, it's not that large. There are around 400 of them. I keep them in a terrarium on a shelf in my bedroom."

You raised your glass and winked.

"What're we drinking to today?" you asked. "Please not ants."

Harry sniggered, lifting his glass as well and twisting his lips.

"Then… maybe to us?"

"Cheers," you replied, softly clinging your beer against his, your eyes locked and everything around you suddenly very unimportant.

An hour and a half later, the noises in the bar grew louder. The group by the bar was now severely drunk, producing a volume of laughter fitting their level of intoxication.

"Would you like to go?" Harry fought against the chattering, leaning over the table to get closer to your ear. "It's so loud in here and I'm afraid we're gonna lose our voices."

You gave him a short nod, looking around for a waiter, but Harry sensed what you were about to do before you could act.

"Let me, okay?" he said and put a large hand on top of yours.

"But Harry, come on, I – "

"I invited you, haven't I?" he smiled, but there was something genuinely pleadingful in his eyes that made you let out a soft laughter.

"Damn it," you made, but sank back in the chair while Harry made eye contact with a waiter.

"I'm feeling genuinely bad, Harry. You can't just invite me all of the time, I feel… I just feel bad."

"Please don't. How many times do I have to tell you? You make me happy by letting me pay the bill. And once again: I invited you and asked you on a date. So it only makes sense that I pay."

With determined and deliberate hands he grabbed the bill the waiter had left there and took out his briefcase. Fortunately, you had only been in a bar after all so the check wouldn't be too high.

Soon he was done, had left a generous tip and rose to his feet while you did the same. Leaving the bar, you felt his warm hand on your back again and this time, walking through a dense crowd, you were even more grateful for it. The cold air outside hit you like a sharp smack in the face, the air knocked out of your lungs. Goosebumps instantly spread on your naked arms and legs like a disease and Harry certainly didn't have to be a genius to notice the signs of your coldness.

"Take that," he said at once, taking off his jacket and putting it around your shoulders.

"Oh my god, thank you. But tell me if you're freezing," you replied, immediately feeling a comforting warmth travelling from your stomach through your body and to every last fingertip, but you couldn't be certain that the change was caused by the jacket and not just the mere gesture.

"No problem. I'm all good."

He turned toward you with his body, your gaze catching at his broad chest and you silently cursed yourself for being so obvious.

"I had an amazing night. Thank you," you said instead to distract him from your telling stare.

"So did I. I… Actually I wanted to know if you would like to come over to my apartment for a bit. We could have a drink and have a chat in a more quiet place if you want to. If not that's fine of course. I can also just drop you off at your place."

Your heartbeat was thundering up your throat, both excitement and the fear of saying something wrong making your head dizzy.

"No, I would love that. I would love to go to your place. Thank you."

And so it happened. Harry opened the passenger door for you, waited until you were inside, closed it and then walked around the car just like he had done two nights ago. Within the blink of an eye, he sat next to you, hands on the steering wheel, but his gaze lingering on your eyes.

"You really look pretty tonight. Not that it's an exception though."

"Thank you, Harry. Thank you for everything, you are… you are the sweetest."

You didn't know where that unfamiliar boldness was coming from, but it seemed to have the desired effect. Harry gave you a wide grin and then started the car while you were getting comfortable in the passenger seat.

"You say 'thank you' too often. It's cute, you know, but you don't have to."

"Maybe I just want to be cute."

Jesus Christ, was that the alcohol speaking out of you?

You hadn't had much to drink, not more than a single glass, but you felt so… light and courgeous. You had nothing to lose and Harry had given you more than one signal during your two dates. He definitely was interested and so were you, so what were you waiting for?

"I can promise you, you don't need that to be cute. I'm more than satisfied with what I got."

His voice was low and a little raspy and frankly, it drove you insane. This was so much better than in the bar where the two of you had to scream just so you could hear one another.

"Alright then. That's all I've wanted in the first place."

With one last mischievous dart in your direction Harry activated the indicators and drove out of the parking space heading west where his apartment was located. It wasn't more than a ten minute drive and time passed so quick that you were almost surprised when Harry slowed down, looked over his shoulder and parked the car right by a very fancy looking apartment building. During the drive, the car had been filled with chatter and laughter, a flirty kind of tension still heavy in the air at all times, but now that Harry had parked the car, unbuckled the seatbelt and opened the driver's door, most of the playfulness was gone and something hot and intense was lingering around the two of you like a cloud.

A quiet 'Wow' escaped your mouth at the sight of the expensive cars parked by the building and you most certainly didn't have to be very smart to figure out what kind of neighbourhood you were visiting right now. Harry had seen your look of sheer baffle, but didn't comment it, instead unlocking the door and holding it open for you.

"Welcome, my lady."

You quietly giggled, curiously stepped inside and found yourself in front of a door with the name 'Castillo' next to the doorbell plate a minute after the two of you had walked up a few stairs.

Everything here screamed luxury, the warm walnut wood that coated the walls, radiating a soft and effortless warmth without being too obnoxious, a thick carpet floor that swallowed the sound of your heels on the ground with each step and this very specific scent in the air. It was nothing radical, nothing aggressive or stark. Just a faint, soft hint of cedar. Or was it pine? You didn't know, all you knew was that it reminded you of something woody, something that made a warm and coiling feeling of comfort gush from your heart.

"There… we go," Harry murmured as he opened the door to his apartment and once again, a sound of amasement catched in your throat.

The last thing you wanted was to make the impression that you were reducing him to his money and you most certainly didn't. It was him, his character and gentle nature that had swept you off your feet and you were sure that nothing would change that, no matter how often he would insist on paying the bill or how many times you would step into this impressive apartment of his. It was Harry you were here for. It was him you wanted to see across the table while having dinner and it was him you wanted to be led through the apartment by. And you still wanted all of these things even if the two of you were eating at a McDonalds and Harry was leading you through a rancid barn.

Nonetheless, the beauty and elegance of his apartment could not be denied. The marble floor, the spacious hallway that was stretching to a door that looked like it led to the living area and the few paintings decorating the walls were marvelous and you told Harry so.

"It's lovely, Harry."

He turned around, giving you a smile that looked almost shy and then stopped in his motion.

"You're lovely."

Your heart stopped and it wasn't just because of his words. It was his eyes that looked even more puppy-like in the subdued light of his apartment. And god he looked beautiful in his black turtleneck shirt, showing off his broad shoulders and muscular arms.

Slowly, he approached you, his eyes on you at all times and with each step he took, your legs seemed to become weaker. By the time he had reached you, you felt like you were about to faint, your head spinning and your hands playing with the hem of your skirt.

"Can I kiss you?" Harry murmured when all that was separating you from him was a few cubic centimeters of hot, steamy air.

"Yes," you breathed and then your lips finally connected and all of this tension and pressure that had accumulated over the past few hours (past few days actually) was finally released.

His lips were soft and careful at first, like he was still trying to savour the moment and not go all in immediately. Like he wanted to slowly explore you, not rush things, but enjoy every new inch of tender skin one by one. Take his time with you. He gently took your bottom lip between his, sucking and covering it with small kisses and all it took was a minute of his sweet treatment for you to start sighing.

In the meantime, Harry's hands were on your waist, palming you through your dress while yours were combing through the babyhair in his neck, twisting single strands around your fingers.

And yet, when his hands wandered down your side, touching your bare skin right where your dress ended, you stiffened up. Not because you didn't like his hands on your body and not because you had changed your mind about Harry. But his intentions were clear, his mouth hungry and demanding against yours and somehow you didn't feel ready yet. It was just… you couldn't even describe it in your head, but this thing between Harry and you was special. Beautiful and delicate, new and unfamiliar, but something that you wanted to savour to the very last drop. And not that you felt appalled by him – you had actually been drooling over him like an animal all night – but it was in that moment that you realised what you wanted was to wait. You didn't know for how long, maybe you would like to sleep with him on your next date, but you knew tonight was too fast for you. Therefore you felt yourself tense up and Harry seemed to notice it as well.

"Are you alright?" he asked against your lips, hands on your legs coming to a stop and his face withdrawing just a little bit.

"Yes. But… can we wait a little? I don't know, just… I don't feel ready for that step yet."

His expression softened and you felt a wave of relief crash upon you. You had feared, almost expected to find his first red flag because honestly, how could a man be that perfect, but he once again turned out to be understanding and caring.

"Of course," he whispered, his voice so low and gentle, your legs started to tremble. "You don't need to explain yourself. We can wait for as long as you want to."

He stepped away from you, one corner of his mouth lifting while he gestured to a door across the hallway.

"I'm sorry. I was really rude overrunning you like this, I just… I couldn't help myself."

"No, no. I enjoyed the kiss, I really did. And I – I feel drawn to you. I thought I made that obvious. I don't know, I guess I just wanna explore things slowly. Wait until it feels right and maybe tonight would just be a little too rushed for me. But that doesn't mean I'm not interested, really."

You didn't know why, but suddenly tears were swimming in your eyes. Maybe it was overload or the fear of pushing him away. What if you were sending the wrong signals and Harry wouldn't ask you on another date because he thought you had lost interest? That couldn't be further from the truth and the anxiety of having just rammed a deep gorge between the two of you made you panic, eyes big and wet with frustration about yourself. Why couldn't you just kiss him back, proceed and spend the night with him? Why couldn't you just feel ready and kiss him with the same passion and a clear head? Why had there been those doubtful thoughts swirling in your head?

"Hey," Harry suddenly made, reaching for your hand and squeezing it gently like he was afraid to hurt you.

"It's okay… It's all good, there's no need to panic," he hushed you, but you just shook your head.

"Come. Let's get you inside."

Harry slowly, yet determindely guided you into his living room and then to the couch. The cushions creaked when the two of you sank down, his worried gaze on the wetness gushing from the corners of your eyes at once.

"Listen to me okay? We're all good, aren't we? There's absolutely no reason to feel bad. Please, I don't ever want you to feel bad for not wanting something. This is important, okay? I'm so happy you told me about your boundaries and you should be really proud of yourself. You think either of us would've had a good time if we did something that you're uncomfortable with?"

His words had a good effect on you, the lump in your throat slowly dissolving and yet you weren't quite ready to accept his affectionate words yet.

"But – But I don't know why. I mean, I don't know why I wanna wait, because… because I like how things are going right now, but in that moment… I don't know, I just felt that I wasn't ready for it. Maybe… I don't know, maybe I just need a little more time. If you're willing to give me that time."

Your round eyes shyly glanced at him and you had to swallow as Harry briefly sighed before taking your hands into his.

"Oh y/n… You think that's the only reason I'm going out with you? You think that's all I'm after? I'll give you as much time as you need, hell, I don't care how much time you need, I'm doing this because I'm interested in you. I, shit, I don't want this to be too much for a third date, but I really like you. I… I can feel that there's something between us and if you're willing to go on another date with me I'd love to figure out what it is."

You exhaled again and it felt amazing. Fresh air was entering your lungs, your chest heaving heavily with the newly found freedom.

"Yes. Of course I want that. I'm really sorry for this whole drama, jesus… I didn't plan on crying, but I guess some things you just don't see coming."

"Don't apologise for that…," he murmured, briefly brushing with his thumb over your knuckles.

"But actually I'm rather concerned about the picture you have of me. I don't want you to think of me as this kind of guy who only dates for the one thing. I mean, yes, I couldn't really hold back tonight because I was just… in awe of how beautiful you look, but as I said, that's not why I asked you on this date. I want you to know that, okay? I asked you because I think you're smart and funny and interesting and I just feel comfortable around you."

You swallowed hard, but this time because his words moved you in a way that was making your throat dry.

"Thank you, Harry," you whispered, slightly moving closer to him. "I don't think of you that way. I guess I was just panicking because I thought that you might feel like I'm pushing you away. Which is the opposite of what I want. I felt like I wasn't giving enough and like I was risking it all by telling you that it was going too quickly for me. Because I thought maybe it's not going fast enough for you. But I feel comfortable around you too and I wanna get to know you better. I wanna know all about you and – and just see where this is going. Because I'm optimistic about this."

You smiled and Harry returned the most sincere and gentle smile you had ever seen. It was the kind of smile that you wished you were the first person in his life to receive.

"Is that okay?" he then said, draping an arm around your shoulders and caressing your skin.

"Yes," you replied and even slightly crouched against him until your head was resting on his shoulder.

"Good. Do you wanna drink something, by the way? Sorry, I'm a really bad host today."

You chuckled, eyes closed and your face gleaming with sheer satisfaction and peace with the moment.

"It's alright. I'm good. I would just like to stay like that for a while," you grinned, unaware of Harry's admiring gaze on your profile and perhaps it was for the better, he thought.

He didn't want to deter you with these feelings he had about you.

They were fragile and new, yet to be figured out, but already so intense that he couldn't believe this was basically your second date.

"Okay," he purred, his lips still curled into a grin long after the word had left his mouth.

#harry castillo #materialists #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #harry castillo smut #harry castillo fanfiction #harry castillo x reader #harry castillo fanfic #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #materialists 2025 #harry castillo x you #harry castillo fic #harry castillo materialists #harry castillo x female reader

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fluffyfluffytime · 1 day ago

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Look Up In The Sky! Is It A Bird? Is It A Plane? No It's... (Part 2) | Bob Reynolds x fem!Reader

Chapter summary: How Bob is handling the aftermath of the rejection.

Author's Note: I'm quite surprised how well-received part 1 was. I’m sorry part 2 took so long, I did a complete 180 with the draft. Anyways, if you would like to be in the taglist, let me know, I'll add you

Part 1

The team weren’t always the type of people who needed breakfast. However, given that they were gone for a month, where meals were sporadic, it was nice to a relatively normal eating schedule. Ava silently chewed on her cereal, with sleep in her eyes– enjoying sleeping in for once. Next to her sat John, who sat slouched while devouring his traditional American breakfast of eggs and bacon. Across from him, Bucky who sat upright while quietly flipping through today’s newspaper, his coffee half empty as an article caught his eye. Across the room, Alexei loomed over the pot on the stove, wearing an apron that said ‘kiss the chef’ and humming some russian song. A calm morning given the rambunctious group.

The quiet broke with the soft hiss of the door opening. Yelena strode on, her hair a mess– given she too had decided to sleep in, and made a beeline for the fridge

“Bob’s not in the mood for breakfast”, she announced, grabbing the orange juice and letting the fridge door swing shut.

A chorus of groans followed

“He seriously needs to get over it,” John muttered, stabbing his eggs with unnecessary force.

“He said he’ll go on walk, said it will help clear his head” Yelena replied, twisting off the cap and pouring it into a glass “But that’s probably bullcrap. He’s gone 20 walks this week”

Alexei let out a deep chuckle from the stove, “Don’t worry. When he comes back I give him cure for broken heart” he said, adding a pinch of salt into the stove.

Yelena leaned over, peering into the contents of the pot, face scrunched. “Is that suppose to be Ukha?”

“Yes”

“And exactly where is the fish?”

“Ehhh… had no time for market” He responded, “So I double everything else for replacement”

John raised a brow “How is a fishless fish stew supposed to help him?”

“Because I put extra of this,” Alexei lifted a bottle high, the overhead light causing it to shine like a gemstone

Ava squinted at it, her face morphed to an unimpressed expression at the realization of what it was “Vodka? Seriously?”

“What… it will make his heart burst,” Alexei declared, striking a fist across his chest. “With flame re-started, he will find passion with other woman”

Yelena, now settled at the table, next to Bucky, with her breakfast and a glass of orange juice, rolled her eyes. “With that soup, you’d probably give him actual heartburn”

“Actually,” Bucky muttered, not looking up from his newspaper, “with the serum, alcohol wouldn’t even affect him”

“At least I am trying to lift Moody Boy’s spirit,” Alexei huffed, giving the soup a stir “You people complain complain complain”

John waved his fork. “He got his heart broken by a crush, not his wife. He’ll live”

“Are you speaking from experience” Ava raised an eyebrow, with a little smug look on her face.

John paused mid chew. “What? No– shut up”

“I say we hunt down that waitress”, Yelena offered, only half-joking.

“With you on her trail”, Ava replied dryly, “she better start counting her day”

John dropped his fork, dragging a hand down his face. “Not this again,” he groaned, letting out an exasperated sigh. “She did nothing wrong”

“She did hurt Bob,” Ava said between chews of her cereal

“His feelings. It's not like she skinned him”

“She could’ve been nicer,” Yelena chimed in, arms crossed as she leaned back in her chair

John pointed a finger, jabbing it in their direction. “You two are both hypocrites”

“We are not” “This is different”

“Yes.You.Are” John jabbed the table. “Apparently ‘no means no’ doesn’t apply to a nice, awkward guy”

Yelena rolled her eyes. “She gave him mixed signals. She was practically flirting with him”

“She’s a waitress, Lena! Of course, she’s gonna be nice. She works off tips,” John snapped, “Unbelievable. You two have never worked in the service industry, so you don’t get a say in this.”

“She could have been nicer”, Yelena muttered

“How much nicer do you want her to be?” John shot back. “She was honest. She told him why she said no– which by the way, she didn’t even have to do”

Yelena rolled her eyes. “Bucky, come on. Back us up”

Without looking up from the newspaper, Bucky grunted, “I’m too old for dating dilemmas”

John pushed his chair back and stood up. “You know what? I don’t think the problem is her– it’s you”

Yelena scoffed, clearly offended by the insinuation “Me?”

“Yes, you” John pointed. “You treat Bob like he’s some helpless kid. Newsflash– he’s a grown man. He doesn’t need to be coddled”

“I do no such thing” Yelena fired back “Unlike you, I watch out for people I care about”

Bucky sighed, finally looking upfrom the paper “Okay, break it up, you two”

John ignored him “No. No, no, no, she needs to–”

He was cut of by a faint rumble, it hummed beneath the floor. Barely noticeable, just enough to make the surface of Bucky’s coffee ripple.

Everyone paused. Eyes darted. Not a single word uttered

Then came another wave– this one stronger. The floor gave a light shudder, and a few utensil clinked against their plates

Ava first to break the silence. “...You guys feel that too, right?”

Alexei, with the bottle of vodka gripped in his hands, tense. “Is it an earthquake?”

John braced himself against the table “Doesn’t feel like it”

Just then, everyone’s phone buzzed in unison. One by one, screens lit up with a red notification.

EMERGENCY ALERT

An evacuation warning has been issued in your area. Remain vigilant of any threats and be ready to evacuate. Gather loved ones, pets and supplies. Continue to monitor local weather, news and the webpage

Yelena scoffed, “As if that answers our question ”

Bucky’s phone rang. Without a word, he stood, sauntered to the side and answered, his expression tense. “Mel?”

There was a long pause on the other end. Judging by the way Bucky furrowed his brows and tightened his jaw, whatever Mel was saying wasn’t good.

“Seriously?” He asked, his voice clipped and his shoulders square. “Put Valentina on the phone”

“You made us the new Avengers,” he said quietly, but clearly on edge, given how hard he gripped his phone. “So let us handle this”

He lets out a sigh when the call ends. Lowering his phone with deliberate slowness. His jaw was squared. He looked at the others “Everyone, suit up. Manhattan is under attack”

Yelena shot up, eyes wide “Bob! He went out for a walk”

The room froze.

—

Bob wasn’t really sure where he was going. He’d been walking aimlessly for the past half hour, hands in his pockets, head down.

The warmth of the morning sun did feel nice against his skin, but it did little to thaw the cold pit in his chest. He knew he shouldn’t be too bent over a rejection, you had every right to turn him down. But it wasn’t just the prospect of a romantic relationship that got him down. Outside of the tower, you were the closet thing he had to a friend.

The two of you would talk about the latest book, show or movie consumed. He was always interested hearing your opinion on it, even if they were horrible.

You’d also gotten to the point where he told you more about his personal struggles, albeit he did leave some stuff out. Surprisingly, it felt good telling you, even though all you did was listen, like a weight had been lifted off his chest

He loved hearing more about you. The shenanigans you got up to as a kid from the country side reminded him of the main character in a book her read as a child. The story that got him laughing the hardest was the one where you tried sneaking in Betsy, your favourite cow, into the house

In his world of tragic backstory, spies, missions and experimental procedure. You were the normalcy he didn’t know he craved. It was refreshing

Stopping in his track he realized, maybe he should just head back. Instead of lifting his spirit, his mind kept wondering back to you. He couldn’t stand the ache echoing in his ribs.

Then–

He felt it. A faint rumble beneath his feet

Bob paused. It was subtle. Barely noticeable. Looking around, people seemed unbothered. Was it just him who felt this

But then it came again– stronger this time. The vibration made the storefront window hum and loose pebbles skitter across the pavement. People stopped walking and looked around. Alright so it wasn’t just him.

A military trucked tore past the intersection ahead, followed by another. A helicopter roared overhead, the sounds of it’s blade chopping through the air. Sirens began to scream in the distance.

Bob turned, confused– just then his phone buzzed violently in his pocket. Pulling it out, he was met with a notification

EMERGENCY ALERT

He stood there, blinking at the screen. Around him, the street had erupted into chaos—people running, yelling, trying to reach their cars or get underground. The world was spinning too fast. He didn’t register the police officer yelling at him until the man grabbed his arm.

“Sir, you need to evacuate—now!”

Bob nodded automatically.

He started running with the crowd, feet pounding the pavement. His phone buzzed again—this time a call. Probably one of the team.

He fumbled for it, but a sharp bump from someone behind him knocked it from his hand. It clattered to the ground.

“Shit–!”

He dove to grab it, but another person crashed into him, then another. Then he realized— the crowd was changing direction

That’s when he saw it,

In the distance, looming above the buildings, it’s armored legs crunching down onto the cars– piercing though it like tin can. It was a massive scorpion

The stinger looked modified, turned into a canon given that it glowed blue. With a shriek it fired a beam of raw energy down the street. Taking down the line of tanks and soldier that just arrived.

It shrieked once more, it’s stinger arched and aimed. This time shooting at the rooftop of the building he was standing next to. Bob threw his arms up, expecting to be crushed by falling rubble–

But it never came.

No pain. No impact

Just wind

He opened his eyes.

For a split second, he thought he was dead. Instead of being buried beneath rubble, he was surrounded by clouds. Feeling the cool wind on his face, he felt weightless

Then, a flicker of dread crawled up is spine. Wait, he’s felt like this before, at the vault.

No. No, no, no–

Had the Sentry taken over?

He squirmed, heart pounding fast.

That’s when the grip around him tightened, he realized that he was cradled securely in someone’s arm.

Then he looked up.

His breath hitched at the very sight of her. Her (y/c/h) hair whipped wildly against the wind. Her (y/c/e) eye were mesmering but they were rimmed red.

A single tear rolled down her cheek.

“I didn’t know angels could cry,” Bob uttered, his voice hoarse.

The woman blinked, startled for a moment. Then broke out into a smile, like relief had washed over her. “Are you okay?”

Bob could only nod back, throat too tight to speak. Still, mostly confuse with the situation– not really sure if he was ascending to the afterlife or not.

“Good” she sighed in relief, eyes scanning ahead.

Moments later, she touched down on the roof of a building, far away from the chaos. There were already people gathered, most covered in dirt and dusk– likely other civilians she’d rescued.

“You should be safe here.” She said as she let him down gently.

Before Bob could thank her, she was gone– a streak of blue and red vanishing into the sky, heading back to the chaos.

Bob stood frozen, breath shallow, the imprint of her hand still lingering around him.

Who was that?

---

Taglist: @yagurlannastasia @yyiikes @one17 @abbyrxx @hiraethmae @msfirth @cherrypieyourface

#bob reynolds x reader #robert reynolds x reader #thunderbolts #lewis pullman #thunderbolts fanfic #bob x reader #marvel #fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #robert reynolds

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wlwsoccerfics · 2 days ago

Text

Late Night & an Early Morning with Mami & Mama (LiaWältiXMarionaCaldenteyXChildReader)

Summary: you have a Bad dream and still have a good Morning.

You woke up at night, looking around. It was 3am. Noticing that your moms weren't in your bedroom with you anymore. So you started crying. They always read you a Story and you fell asleep with them there. It has always been like that. As Long as you could remember. Which wasn't long cause you just turned three years old a week ago.

"Mami?Mama?ayuda." You sobbed out. It only took them like 15 seconds to stand in front of your little bed which was painted like the Emirates Stadium & had Arsenal Written all over it. And your mommies Jersey Numbers. ( Mami?Mama?Help. )

"¿Qué pasa princesa?" Your Mami asked, picking you up and holding you close. You cuddled up to her right away. ( what's wrong princess? )

"mal sueño." You informed your mommies. Pouting thought the tears. ( Bad Dream. )

"Oh, no, dulce niña. Lo siento mucho oír eso." Your Mami replied. Kissing the top of your head. ( oh no sweet girl. sorry to hear that. )

"would you like to sleep in bed with me and Mami?" Your Mama asked. Gently stroking your hair.

"sí, por favor." Your answered. "Momo sleeps with us?" You wanted to know. Momo was your stuffed monkey. You didn't go anywhere without it. ( Yes please. )

"He sure can." Your Mama agreed. Smiling softly at you.

"thanks Mama! Thanks Mami!" You replied with a soft smile. Yawning softly.

The three of you went back to your mommies bed. You laid in top of your Mami while your Mama was running your back gently and your Mami gently stroking your hair. One of your hands had a tight grip on Momo.

"get some more rest my sweet Girl! In a few hours you gonna travel with us to Manchester." Your Mama let you know. So you closed your eyes. Smiling a bit. Because you would be able to see your auntie Grace. Your auntie Kyra had introduced you to her. Cause the two were quite close.

"Duerme bien, dulce niña." Your Mami whispered out. Which you didn't even hear anymore because you fell asleep again. Your Mama let out a sigh of relief. Traveling with a tried and grumpy toddler wasn't fun. So she was glad you got some more sleep. ( sleep well, sweet girl . )

"she is out like a light!" Your Mama whispered out and cuddled up to your Mami. The two falling asleep as well.

The morning was quite peaceful and you let your Mami get you dressed before the three of you drove to the Training grounds because that was where the Bus was leaving from. In the Car you listened to a Paw Patrol Audiobook.

"i Love Marshall!" You happily announced with a lisp. Which made both of your mommies laugh.

"Lo sabemos princesa." Your Mami said. "You Tell us at least once a day!" She added. ( we know princess. )

"and we brought you lots of different Marshall plushies!" Your Mama replied.

"i needed them all! A Marshall Football team!" You told them. You had around 10 different Marshall plushies and you insisted that they all had to sleep in your bed.

"of course you did, Liebling." Your Mama said. Smiling softly. ( Sweetheart. )

Twenty minutes later you have reached your destination. When your Mama got you out of the car, your auntie Kyra , auntie Beth and auntie Steph walked over.

"Look Steph, Look Beth it's our favorite little princess!" Your auntie Kyra announced and held her arms out for you and you walked up to her since your Mama had put you down onto the ground.

"aunties!" You happily said and jumped into Kyras Arms. "I Had a Bad dream so Mami and Mama let me sleep in their big bed!" You explained.

"sorry you had a Bad dream, Sweet Angel. But glad your mommies made you feel better!" Your Auntie Steph replied. You held onto Kyra and cuddled up to her. Looking at Steph.

"thank you auntie Steffy!" You answered.

When you sat on the Bus you had decided to sit with your auntie Leah & auntie Beth. Being very entertained by listening to them talk about different kind of dogs. It also made you want to get a Dog.

"i get a Dog?" You asked. Looking at them both.

"kiddo you have to ask your Mama and Mami!" Your auntie Leah told you.

"¿Me compras uno solo?" You asked. ( You can just buy me one? )

"in english please!" Your auntie Beffy answered. You sometimes don't realize that you reply in Spanish or (Swiss-)German.

"she said that you should just buy her a Dog or asked you to buy her one. That's the better explanation . Which isn't happening." Your Mami explained. She was sitting behind your aunties Leah and Beth with your Mama.

"Vale la pena intentarlo." You admitted. ( worth a try. )

"i need to start learning Spanish!" Your auntie Beth stated and chuckled softly.

"agreed!" Your mami answered with a soft smile.

"maybe when you are older we can get a Dog." Your Mama let you know.

"okay." You replied. Still pouting a little. But not saying anything about the dog for the rest of the Drive. No somehow you ended up asleep in your auntie Daphnes Arms. Snoring cutely.

So your morning was quite relaxing. If only all Mornings were as relaxing as this one.

#woso x reader #woso fic #arsenal women x reader #lia walti x reader #mariona caldentey x reader #mariona caldentey x lia wälti x toddler reader #beth mead x toddler reader #stephcatley x toddler reader

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onaswife · 10 hours ago

Text

Always yours

Couple: Lia Wälti x reader

AU! Omegaverse, Omega x Alpha.

Note: Sorry for the delay, university evaluations have come out from where I didn't know, so it's a bit of a small thing.

You met your current girlfriend five years ago, when you played against each other in the Champions League. It was your sister who introduced you.

"You can't turn down every opportunity to meet new people, Liten," you sighed audibly. Of the two of you, Caro was the least shy, while you always tended to avoid meeting new people, so you were the first to leave the field and head straight to the locker room to avoid that social interaction.

That day, however, was different. You were going to say hello to Frida, who was your and Caro's teammate on the Norwegian national team, along with Ingrid, who had already joined you.

"You should swap shirts with one of them," Ingrid commented mockingly as she gently pushed you by the shoulder, while your sister laughed happily beside you.

"My second choice was Arsenal, remember that," you replied simply, walking quickly to where Frida was and hugging her. She squealed when she felt your body hit hers, until she recognized you and hugged you tightly.

As you separated from her, you congratulated her on the game you had played.

"Oh, let me introduce you to this girl right here." Frida walked past you and pointed to the girl you had guiltlessly ignored behind you, who was giving you a slightly shy smile. "Hello," her voice sounded low and almost timid, while Frida smiled widely at her side, as if she were introducing you to a puppy.

You stood a little awkwardly in your seat, as you formed a small smile and slowly raised your hand to shake her hand. "Hello…"

"God, does no one know how to say hello properly?" You heard Frida speak, finding it a little difficult to stop staring at the girl in front of you. "Not even a handshake? I understand that a hug is awkward, but at least that's it." Her voice now laced with frustration as she brought her hand to the bridge of her nose, gently pressing it, looking at us out of the corner of her eye.

You nodded slowly as you withdrew your hand from hers, looking anywhere but at her. "Nice to meet you, Lia. I'm Ingrid, and this is Caro, Y/N's sister."

You sighed as you extended your hand toward Frida's classmate, whose name you still didn't know, only that she was very pretty and short, although not as short as some people you knew (e.g., Pina).

"Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N," you smiled politely as you felt her soft palm against yours, while her fingers pressed against the back of your hand, making you blush. "Nice to meet you, I'm Lia."

After that somewhat awkward moment of greetings, you left your sister talking to Frida, Ingrid, and Lia, while you walked to the tunnel, where Alexia was already talking to Jenni, who was looking at you mockingly.

You grunted as you passed her, already expecting her usual jokes about you and your shyness.

"For such a tall, Scandinavian alpha, you're really shy. I thought you guys took control of everything, you know, like your sister used to say."

A few days later, you received a notification on Instagram, the social network you normally used for collaborations with brands and the like. It was a notification about a new follower, nothing unusual; you received hundreds of those every day, but this one was different.

"Shut up, Hermoso, I'm not in the mood for jokes," you murmured as you passed her.

Liawaelti has started following you.

You stared at the screen that was slowly fading in the palm of your hand, already sitting on the couch, where you had been lying minutes before.

You looked at your phone again, thinking about it. She had started following you, and you didn't follow many people in soccer, just close teammates and your sister.

You felt strange. As you checked her profile, you noticed several photos with her teammate, Caitlin, where they looked very close, along with other posts of Lia with Arsenal, on vacation, or with the national team.

You sighed, leaving the phone next to you on the couch as you leaned back against the backrest, thinking about everything.

"Why does it seem like you're thinking about all the mistakes in your life?" You jumped in your seat when you heard your sister's voice. You opened your mouth to ask her what she was doing there. "I called at least four times before your neighbor came out to scold me, so I let myself in with my keys. Is everything okay?" she asked, seeing you staring at the floor.

"It's okay, I was just thinking that my contract was running out and-"

"Don't even think about it, they want to renew your contract and they're going to," you sighed, listening to her words, as you made room for her on your side of the couch. As soon as she sat down, you leaned against her.

Caro was very protective of you, as was your other brother, Fredrik. They were competitive, they argued, they fought, but unlike you, you were their little sister. They still saw you as that 2-year-old who couldn't be away from one of her siblings because she'd start crying thinking she'd been abandoned, who would sneak into her older sister's room at night because she'd had a bad dream, or who always turned to her older brother when she got a small wound.

A week later, the first text arrived. A simple "hello," but it felt like something more to you.

You were both their favorite child, even though they always denied it in public.

And there you are, four years after that awkward start, now Lia's partner. Not much had changed in those years. You were still playing for Barcelona, Lia was still playing for Arsenal. Both of you were still safe options for national teams, although you did go through a period of injuries, nothing you couldn't handle.

From that moment on, the two of you started talking more, making calls or sometimes arranging outings when their schedules coincided. You stumbled into their lives around the time Lia broke up with her partner, although you never knew, since you didn't want to ask.

That day was special, another Champions League match between you. Your team this year was the favorite to win the competition, but everyone knew Arsenal was coming off a great run in England and from previous Champions League matches. So it didn't surprise you much when, from the bench due to injury, you watched after 90 minutes as your girlfriend's team emerged as champions after 18 years.

It hurt you; you felt a little angry with yourself for not being able to play because of the injury, but you were also happy for your girlfriend.

You approached your team, watching as each of them seemed to want to cry at that moment, just like you. You remained silent, watching the English team celebrate with their coaching staff and fans, while all of you were lost in your thoughts.

It wasn't until the medal ceremony that you were able to talk to Lia. Although you didn't like her, simply because of the person who seemed to be clinging to her, like a parasite.

You clung to your jaw as Caitlin wrapped her arms around your omega's waist and rubbed her nose against your mark, making you instantly angry, not out of jealousy—you trusted your girlfriend—but more out of possessiveness.

You'd always liked that, showing others that Lia had chosen you as her alpha, so you tended to be possessive, so your scent was always present in hers, always leaving your hand on her body, or leaving kisses on her face when she was talking to someone you didn't like.

You approached slowly until you were behind Lia.

"Congratulations, love, I'm glad you won, you deserved it." You watched as Caitlin looked you up and down as she snorted and left, while your Omega hugged you tightly, letting you bury your nose in her neck, marking her with your scent and growling in the process.

"I would have loved to celebrate with you… I don't like playing against you in games like that, one of us always lose more," you sighed at her words, trying not to break down right then and there.

You pulled away, bringing your hands up to her cheeks, squeezing them a little. "You deserve it, so now go and enjoy your victory, champ." You placed a kiss on her forehead and both cheeks before letting her go, walking over to where your sister was, her gaze fixed on the grass. You hugged her, and she hugged you back, sinking into the misery you both felt at that moment.

That night, Lia invited you to the small celebration, but you didn't want to go, so you politely declined. Just because you were angry with yourself didn't mean Lia should be the one to pay the consequences. So there you were, lying in the hotel bed where all your teammates were staying, staring at the ceiling while your mind replayed the exact moments of when you lost your chance to play in the final, the moment the game stopped being your team's, and when they lost, all on repeat.

Until around 2 a.m., you received Alessia's message. She first attached a photo and a message, "Caitlin's drunkenly complaining to Lia. I think you should come over." You instantly got up, grabbed your jacket, and walked as quickly as possible to the hotel where they were staying and where the party was being held, which was less than a 5-minute walk away.

You arrived with your heart pounding. From what you knew, Caitlin was still hurt because Lia had broken up with her. Even though she was in a relationship with another teammate, she seemed to feel entitled to make your Omega feel bad, which you weren't going to allow.

You walked in, looking everywhere, trying to find her in the crowd, while keeping your face as serious as possible and regulating your breathing.

"You didn't take long," you looked to your side, seeing the blonde who had texted you.

"Where is she? Is she still bothering her?" Your voice sounded harsher than usual, even your scent was now more sour.

She just pointed you to a spot a little far away, but close to a corner. You didn't even say goodbye; you just walked up to them with the sole idea of getting that woman away from your omega.

"Am I interrupting something?" As soon as the words left your lips, Lia turned around, her eyes shining at the sight of you and a huge smile appearing on her face. "You came, love," she said before colliding with yours.

As you hugged her, you leaned into her neck, smelling Caitlin's scent. You looked over Lia's shoulder, seeing her frowning at them. Your hand moved down to your omega's lower back, watching Caitlin grow more annoyed, while Lia gasped at the feel of your hand.

"I don't know what your intentions are, but for your own good, I want you to stay away from my girlfriend. She made it clear a long time ago that she no longer wants anything to do with you. Also, respect your relationship." Your tone surprised your girlfriend. She had never heard you be so curt with someone, while you felt so possessive over her, making her legs feel like jelly.

Without another word, you grabbed your girlfriend and dragged her out, muttering insults in Norwegian to the Australian woman who seemed to be cursing you from where you left her.

You reached the outside of the room, letting go of her and gently pushing her against the wall. She moaned as she felt the wall pressed against her back.

"I don't want that girl to flirt with you again. She doesn't understand that you're not hers anymore, you're mine." You pressed yourself closer to her body, biting her neck, hearing her moan your name in a low tone.

She brought her hands to your back, digging her nails into your spine as she gave you more access to her neck. "Mine," you repeated, biting her throat and pressing your hands on her hips, while your leg slid between her legs.

"What else do I have to do to make her see that you chose me? Fuck you in front of her? Let her hear you moan my name while you cum on my cock and not hers? That you always think of me when you cum or masturbate for me?" you said now, moving your hips against hers, hearing her gasp more and more frequently.

"God… love," her voice was more muffled, trying not to be loud and not be discovered. "I'm only yours… only yours…"

She gasped before feeling her back arch against the wall, a sign of her orgasm. You smiled sarcastically against her cheek, placing a kiss there.

"Show me where your room is, darling. I'll fulfill my role as your alpha and make sure everyone understands that I've already marked you as mine… and that I'm yours. I love you," you whispered against her ear, feeling the fabric of your pants stick to your thigh where she had previously rubbed against it. She just nodded, taking your hand and leading you to the elevator, where you started kissing freely.

#woso x reader #woso omegaverse #arsenal wfc #lia walti #lia walti x reader

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aylish91 · 2 days ago

Text

The Cat's in the Bag

Thank you @mothiepixieMothie for participating in the Kofi Writing event! I hope you enjoy!

~~~

In which you find yourself having a rare peaceful moment with one of the SF Brother's. (black X reader : Nagamob/NagaMafiaTale) Continuation of, Cat and Mouse, read after, Feathers and Claws.

"I FEEL AS IF YOU DIDN'T BOTHER TRYING THIS TIME, MOUSE. IT WAS RATHER DISAPPOINTING."

You were sat outside in the back of a cute rustic little cafe, sipping a drink while you looked over a wooden railing to view the Ebbot River below. Vines swayed above as they dangled from the patio's beams, matching the lush growth around the river's edge. Shimmering ledges of cascading water gave you a sense of calm.

At the familiar voice, you simply took a deep inhale of breath. Your chair was cushioned and the view favorable, so you opted not to reply as you took another sip of your drink and waited for your pastry to arrive. At this point, you knew none of the Snakes would hurt you anyway. They simply enjoyed the game.

Black, to his credit, seemed just as nonchalant as you felt, the purple of his scales gliding smoothly up and around your area as he settled next to you. You knew if he decided to lounge, he would be closer to your height while you sat, but the Naga remained fully upright. Then, with hands naturally at parade rest behind him, he pretended to peer down at the water below.

It was quiet between the two of you as you waited, time dragging on with each chirp of a bird. The longer you sat, the more patches of light peeked through the foliage above to glint off the deep colors of Black's scales. You couldn't help but watch as they sparkled with each minor expanse of his breath. It was vexingly pretty…

With a great put upon sigh, you tilted your head back and turned to look up at your looming companion. For as beautiful as the day was, it was hard to relax when he radiated such stiff tension.

"You can't possibly be comfortable like that."

He didn't move, but the flash of his eyelight glanced your way. "I AM COMFORTABLE ENOUGH, CONSIDERING."

"Considering I walked off again, or that you are not acquainted with this establishment?"

There was a huff, the edges of Black's shark-like teeth ticking upward. "DOES IT MATTER?"

"It does if you're going to ruin the mood."

Glancing at the cafe doors, a brief flicker of annoyance passed with the realization you probably wouldn't be getting your pastry either, so long as Black remained on guard. Black used that moment to finally move, arms coming around to cross at his front as he turned and bent just enough to hit you with a raised socket.

"I'M SORRY. IS MY PRESENCE AN INCONVENIENCE FOR YOU?"

You were tired. Tired of being afraid and smart enough to have realized you didn't have to be. You didn't know why these monsters were so obsessed with making your life harder, but it was time to return the favor.

With the best teasing grin you could muster, you leaned up to match his gaze. You could feel the skin crinkle at the edges of your eyes.

"You? Never. But your looming has scared away all the staff, and it would have been nice to have shared my pastry with you." Lowering yourself, you deliberately faced forward with an overly dramatic sigh. "A shame. I heard they were some of the best."

Chancing a sideways peak, you happened to catch a glimpse of glowing purple before Black righted himself to fidget with his cuffs and tie. It gave you great pleasure to note that he couldn't seem to look at you, but your lingering smile soon fell as you let another real sigh pass your lips.

"It's the little things, you know? We should all be able to relax and enjoy the sun..."

Pain pulled at your soul. The water was truly a peaceful sight to behold, and it was only a matter of time until your little bout of freedom would be over.

You had thought this would be the end of it. Sit a few more minutes in peace, then willingly follow Black back into the chaos. But surprisingly, the coils near and around you twitched, slowly spreading to almost deflate next to you. It was even more surprising when Black lowered himself carefully down into them. You couldn't tell if he was relaxing or if the way he draped was more in defeat. It was the first time you had seen his face show anything other than a tight grin or smirk. Many things passed over him before he settled with a slight frown.

"YOU… INTRIGUE ME. DESPITE EVERYTHING, YOU…" He ran a hand down his face, sinking lower into his coils. "IT'S NO WONDER THAT ARROGANT FOOL FROM SWAP PLAYED SO DIRTY."

You stared, moving to lean on the arm of your chair as the river was fully forgotten. For some reason, you were having a hard time keeping the smile off your face. From what little you knew of him, Black didn't seem the type to be so open.

"Oh~"

He grimaced, lulling his skull to look you over. "DON'T GET SO COCKY, I'M NOT GOING TO EXPLAIN. I'M ONLY ALLOWING THIS," he waved a clawed hand, "BECAUSE RUS IS NO DOUBT HANDLING THINGS NEARBY."

You giggled. It was cute seeing a normally stoic person pout. You wanted to say something more, but didn't know quite what. Instead, you let the quiet peace resume so you could contemplate. There was a lot to unpack from such few words.

Eventually, however, you decided to risk rubbing a hand delicately down the smooth scales of a coil, giving it a gentle pat, then slowly bringing it back to rest upon the warm surface.

"You know… Sometimes I wonder how differently things would have gone if I had taken your offer back then."

Something danced at the edges of Black’s eyelights, the volume and harshness of his voice becoming oddly soft. "I WOULDN'T ADMIRE NOR RESPECT YOU NEARLY AS MUCH IF YOU HAD."

…

The sun was shining, birds were singing, and for the first time in a long time, things felt like they would be okay.

…

Even if you never got your pastry…

Mafia Master Grand Master Post

#my writing #Aylish91 writing event #undertale fanfiction #undertale #sans #swapfel #NagaMob #NagaMafiaTale #mafiatale #mobtale #x reader #nagas #lamias #You learn some things about one of The Snakes #You think you like it #all the boys are allergic to emotions #the cat's in the bag

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marginofthought · 17 hours ago

Note

an 9.05 one shot where dean (as a dog) knots sam…please? 🌷

(I hope this is dog enough, also, sorry it took me so long.)

Also, might as well dedicate this to @motherrsam 🐶

--__--__--

Sam turned groggily in his bed, squinting at the bathroom light that was spilling out behind Dean. A quick glance to his side confirmed that it had only been half an hour since he had gone to sleep while Dean had headed for a shower.

“What?” Sam asked, when Dean only stared at him.

And now Dean looked uncomfortable as he tugged at the towel that was covering his hips.

“Don’t tell me it’s gonorrhea again, Dean,” Sam groaned and rolled to his back, staring at the ceiling. “I thought you sai-”

“I don’t have the clap!” Dean interrupted him, whisper-shouting in the quiet motel room.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Sam grumbled to himself, quiet enough that Dean shouldn’t have heard it if it weren’t for the spell still affecting him.

“It’s not that,” Dean repeated and stiffly walked over to his bed where The Colonel laid at the foot of it.

Dean absentmindedly patted the dog’s head as he now stood fidgeting, just a few feet further into the room than before.

“What is it then?” Sam asked exasperatedly since Dean didn’t say anything but clearly wasn’t going to go to bed.

“It’s-” Dean started. “I was just-”

Sam didn’t have to guess, knew Dean’s habits and schedules. “-jerking off,” Sam finished.

Dean looked at him sharply and Sam had to suppress a grin at the action.

“I- yeah,” Dean finally agreed and sat down heavily on the bed, the Colonel only shifting slightly but appearing to still be sleeping.

“And what? You do that like three times a week, what’s so different now?” Sam tried again, a yawn splitting his face a second later.

“There’s-”

Another pause.

“Dean, c’mon, either you tell me what’s wrong with your dick or I’m going back to sleep,” Sam grumbled, turning back to his side and facing Dean.

“It got like hard-”

“Yeah, that’s what usually happens,” Sam laughed, “that’s normal.”

“No,” Dean exclaimed, “there was like a growth that got like bigger and hard when I-”

Now Sam stopped him, not needing to hear it in all the detail. “At the base?”

“Yeah?”

“A knot?” Dean asked, sounding confused.

Sam let his head thunk back onto the pillow. “Told you, you’re like a dog now.”

“What?”

“You play fetch, you bark at mailmen, you can’t eat chocolate and you grow a knot,” Sam said, eyes closing again as the exhaustion of the day set back in.

“Yeah, dude, like dog’s have,” Sam explained, voice starting to slur with sleep. “Look it up.”

Dean didn’t reply and Sam took it as his queue to fall back asleep, his sleep thankfully free of nightmares of snake people and cheetah livers.

Dean had swapped his towel for his own blanket at some point and was resting his head on Sam’s thighs, chin digging in.

Sam woke up with a heavy weight on his legs and it wasn’t easy to shift under it. “Colonel,” Sam complained quietly, peeling one eye open before he suddenly felt a little too awake.

It wasn’t the dog curled up on and against Sam’s legs, no, it was his big brother.

It was seven thirty and as Sam looked around he saw the other reason he had woken up. The Colonel was sitting in front of the door, whining in an annoyed manner.

The Colonel gave a short yip which Sam took as an affirmation before he finally opened the door and let the dog out to presumably do his business.

“Sorry,” Sam said automatically as he pushed Dean off and stumbled out of the bed, his legs almost numb. He staggered towards the door and gripped the door handle but stopped at actually opening it.

“You’re coming back, right?” Sam asked even though he wasn’t the one that could talk to animals.

“Sammy?” Dean asked from behind him, making Sam turn around.

“Dude, wrong bed, you know,” Sam just said before walking back to where his duffel lay on the ground. He bent down, back towards Dean as he looked for his last clean pair of socks for the day.

There was a rustling sound and Sam expected Dean to get up from the bed but instead hands gripped his hips and pulled him back into Dean.

“Dean,” Sam squeaked and tried to step forward again.

“Smell so good,” Dean mumbled, muffled by Sam himself.

“Fuck, Sammy, this spell, I swear,” Dean said and pulled Sam in closer.

Sam’s rear connected with something solid and by the warm, moist air hitting him, Sam was pretty sure that his brother’s face was practically in his ass now.

“Dean, what are you-?”

“What?”

“Smell so fucking good,” Dean said and Sam could both see and feel Dean breathing in deeply, the fabric of his boxers getting heated by Dean’s damp breath.

There was a tongue licking at his boxers now and Sam tried to shove Dean away but the pathetic whine his brother let out made him loosen his grip again.

“Dean, I don’t-”

“Please, Sammy, you smell so good.”

Dean took it as a positive thing apparently because he added a tongue to the mix now and soon he was pulling Sam’s boxers down.

As he was tugged back again, Sam stumbled, his legs getting tangled in his boxers until he fell onto his bed, Dean quick as he shoved Sam down into the mattress.

“So good, Sammy. You smell ready to mate, to breed, to-”

Sam tried to twist in Dean’s grip again at that but his brother licked over his bare ass in apology. “Sorry”

“Please, Sammy,” he whined and there was this quality to his voice that was new ever since he had taken that potion and Sam was powerless to do anything.

It was an odd sensation and Sam couldn’t quite say if he liked it or not.

Sam grumbled but didn’t fight it when Dean grabbed his hips to pull them up, nestling his face between his asscheeks, tongue darting out again.

“What’s going on with you?” Sam asked, voice a bit high pitched and muffled.

Sam wasn’t a virgin, not even the anal kind but this was new and now Dean was letting his teeth scrape over the sensitive flesh, making Sam jump a little before Dean’s hands kept him still.

At first Sam didn’t think that Dean would reply but he ended up pulling off a moment later. “I don’t know, just need to,” he said, burying his face back in between Sam’s ass cheeks.

And okay, yeah, it was a little weird that Dean was licking and panting at his ass but Sam had to suppress a moan when Dean pointed his tongue and started to pierce his hole.

A few moments later Sam not only finally let himself moan out loud, he also noticed that the bed was rocking weirdly, making him look back at Dean.

Dean was humping the bed.

Dean was humping the bed like a dog and sniffing around his ass like a dog and his brother’s dick had a knot like a dog…

A spell to just understand animals, yeah right. Fuck.

Before Sam could even say anything, Dean whined again, apparently not satisfied with what he was doing anymore. He shifted and the blanket finally fell away, Sam realising that Dean had been naked all night which also meant that Dean had curled up next to him naked all night.

“Wha-”

“I need to fuck you,” Dean said at the same time.

“Dean, I don't think we should,” Sam protested.

Sam raised his eyebrows, logically knowing that it was where this was going but still not prepared for the demand.

Dean only shook his head, reaching down to Sam duffel and expertly extracting the travel size of lube Sam sometimes kept in there. Which also told Sam that Dean went through his stuff on a regular basis to know that. He would be pissed about that later, right now his mind was pulled back to the moment when his brother spoke again.

“Now, need to fuck you now,” Dean growled, the cap of the lube snicking open and Sam felt warm hands and cold liquid on his ass again.

Dean was panting behind him as he shoved not one but two fingers into Sam’s underprepared hole. Sure, his tongue had been nice and he had loosened up a little but it hadn’t really been enough to skip the single finger treatment.

Sam groaned uncomfortably and Dean licked at his ass again in what Sam thought was an apology but Dean didn’t say anything, only added more lube and fingers until he deemed Sam stretched enough for his dick.

There was no warning when Dean pulled his fingers out just to immediately shove the head of his dick inside. It burned and Sam gritted his teeth while his body tried to adjust to the intrusion.

“Yeah, gotta fuck you, gotta mate, gotta breed,” Dean replied, sounding far away as he began pounding into Sam.

Dean didn’t let him though as his brother pushed his hips forward, sending Sam back to the mattress and seating his dick all the way inside, Dean’s hips meeting his ass with an audible slap.

“Fuck, Dean,” Sam breathed out heavily.

Sam’s prostate was getting hit on every thrust, moans punched out of him at the sharp zings of pleasure up his spine. His cock was rock hard underneath him, pre-come dripping onto the bedding as the force of Dean’s movements were rocking him and the bed both.

It was quick and brutal, almost animalistic in the way that Dean’s dick was splitting him open and making Sam whine. Dean was only growling in response, his hips not stopping. Dean’s body was covering him all over, his brother’s sweaty chest pressed to his chest as he nosed at Sam’s hair.

“God, Sammy,” Dean groaned, tongue laving over Sam’s neck before he began nipping at his ear and throat once more. “Taking it so good.”

It almost felt like the pressure in his ass was increasing, like Dean’s dick was getting bigger.

Sam wanted to say something else but Dean’s hips got erratic, not pulling back far since his knot had swollen too much and Sam could feel it pull against his rim. A moment later Dean’s nipping turned into a bite as he clamped down on Sam’s shoulder, making Sam yelp in pain.

Sam stiffened as he remembered that that was most likely exactly what was actually happening, Dean’s knot growing and catching on his rim, only increasing the pleasure pain he felt.

“Wait, Dean, the knot,” Sam tried to say but it got lost in a warble of sounds as he moaned while Dean growled deeply, shoving his dick in as far as it would go.

“Did you just bite me?” Sam asked breathily and with just a touch of hysteria.

Dean didn’t let go to answer, just rocking his hips and presumably coming deep inside Sam.

The feeling of Dean’s knot stretching him wide while also plugging him was almost enough for Sam to forget about his own arousal before Dean unceremoniously wrapped his hand around Sam’s dick and started stripping it quickly.

Sam had no choice but to take it, trapped under Dean and on his dick as his brother jerked him off just a touch too roughly.

It didn’t take long for Sam to be brought over the edge, his come soaking into the bedsheets below him as Dean continued to stroke him.

Only once he had let go of Sam’s dick did he also let go of his shoulder, teeth unclamping just for him to start licking at the bite instead.

Dean shifted then, letting them fall onto their sides, his knot pulling uncomfortably at Sam’s rim and reminding him that his ass was still full of Dean’s dick.

“Did so well, Sammy,” Dean slurred, hips still moving a little. “Took me so well.”

Sam could only respond in a groan, not sure he knew what to say but Dean didn’t seem to mind, his tongue going back to licking at Sam’s shoulder.

“Gonna keep my knot all warm and tight, right, Sammy?” Dean asked and Sam knew that he didn’t have any other choice but to submit, Dean’s knot keeping him right there, right there for his brother to do with what he pleased.

#i wanted to make Dean lick his hand after getting Sam off #but i forgot to add it #so just imagine that #wincest #samdean #sam winchester #dean winchester #bottom!sam #top!dean #s09e05 #s09e05 dog dean afternoon #spn #supernatural #anon ask #my writing

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linkons-most-wanted · 3 days ago

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My dear, I’ve been stuck in the time lock event + death and rebirth. Strap in for my rambles and get some tinfoil. Also I’m sure some of my little ideas have plot holes or inconsistencies but this is all fun speculation

I think the implications from in game and the way it’s been presented is our general “timeline” is beyond cloudfall, hunger games world, current story setting. If that’s the case, it kinda confirms Sylus did die and later reincarnated (still doesn’t disqualify him being a dragon tho 😩) then they got separated in the deepspace tunnel where things progress into the main story as we know it. In this, Sylus would regain his memories at some point. Perhaps similar to how for our current mc she’s getting it in bits and pieces. (This isn’t even touching on the conceptual eldritch horror? potential of her and what she is and him with energy because WOW my Bloodborne/Elden Ring days see cosmic beings and go “that’s scary shit right there”)

Here’s where I put on my tinfoil hat.

Sylus remembering things while mc doesn’t could very well be attributed to the very notion of energy itself. Regardless of if Sylus has multiple reincarnations or not, he always ends up remembering because energy cannot be created nor destroyed. (Thinking about where he says something akin to “to all your future crimes you’ll commit”, implying he remembers/knows lives beyond this one)

The inherent manipulation of energy makes it impossible for him to not remember as the energy itself holds echoes of the past and the forms it once existed as. While in the new story chapters we see mc witness countless deaths and rebirths ;D she’s the cycle of life and death itself it seems like. Being born, you know nothing. From the moment you exist you are learning. I think about how if you answer the ambition question “it’s like me, always searching for knowledge/truth” (paraphrase).

He remembers and protects her ambition because it’s just something so important to her… periods are hardly the first of her cycles he dealt with LOL “you think periods bother me when you consistently die and get reborn?”

Here’s MORE tinfoil for a hat to put on the hat.

Beyond cloudfall was the start of it all. Two souls defying fate so strongly they become one with the stars and space. In every lifetime, in the universe itself, they will find their way to each other.

Mc had to have a start somewhere and why not at the end of her life as an immensely powerful sorceress (dragon) knowing she was soulbound to her love that she herself cursed into perpetual existence.

So if Sylus always remembers and patiently awaits and follows wherever his soulmate goes, it’s no wonder he’s so secure with the relationship. (Not to mention his near “perfect” status skill wise ;p for his sake we’ll say that he doesn’t remember EVERYTHING, just the important-for-the-story bits.)

He says for him there are no worlds without you in it and he meant it. His patience is infinite because witnessing your brilliant soul persistently want and desire regardless of what life you take is something he craves and loves. It’s why he despises Ever so thoroughly, putting mc into a situation that forces the cycle. They took you and hurt you and ripped away the greatest parts that come with living and growing. The small details he gets to learn about while falling in love all over again are stolen several times over and that’s a debt EVER will never be able to pay in full.

If you’re a comet, shooting across the night sky, he’s the fiery trail you leave in your wake. There is no love purer than his. 🤧😩

Sorry it took me so long to reply, but I wanted to be sure my brain was online!! Because I LOVE THIS 🤩 I am STRAPPED IN

I actually have a different idea about the timeline tho! It's probably just my bias and my meta story brain, but I'd actually put the nebula gladiatorial combat first.

Because then what you get is:

Two astral children, born of universe stuff, created with the express purpose of fighting their peers so only one survives > they defy this fate somehow (we don't know how but maybe it's a teaser for Sylus's new myth this year since his team loves to foreshadow???) > they reincarnate on Philos as dragon/sorceress > this is why they're destined arch-nemeses, because the very nature of their initial existence pits them against each other in an "only one can survive" way > they defy their fate again > sorceress MC dies > adult dragon sylus reassembles and retains his continuity of memory, explaining why these are top-of-mind when he meets her in the N109 Zone

The nebula arena read as really primordial to me (eldtrich cosmic like you said!)--highly connected to MC's true nature as a force that can be reborn and absorb the planetary core of all possible branching timelines. (Which itself actually explicitly represents the power of love in its infinite incarnations and OMG I NEED to write a whole essay on this!!) It's that primordial-ness that makes me put it as the "first" of the lives.

My theory here requires the assumption that Sylus is also a similarly primordial being capable of reincarnation, and though we haven't been told that specifically, it's true of Zayne and Raf and Caleb (Xavier TBD) so I don't think it's a stretch.

Emotionally, the reason I'm drawn to this explanation is that it explains why MC always has an instinct to kill Sylus and steal his power, even/especially at the start of Beyond Cloudfall. Yeah, it can be "Just because", but the idea that the basic nature of their existence is that one of them is meant to kill the other and come out on top just adds a delicious layer to Beyond Cloudfall.

While I think the authors leave themselves options on purpose, the sequence of events from Beyond Cloudfall > space pirate > N109 Zone is so tight that I'll probably assume they're contiguous until proven otherwise (and at that point I'll cling to it in head canon).

All that said, the writers also lean into the cyclical and branching layer of things so I think that any sort of themes or feelings that arise from putting things into different orders are all intended on some level and definitely very valid!

I love the idea that Sylus is more able to access his memories due to his Evol/powers because, you know what they all that in-universe??? Consciousness energy. So I think you're really onto something!!

I totally agree with the idea that him talking about "and all the crimes you'll commit" is a reference to him knowing about the reincarnation, and I think with the teasers we've gotten of the nebula arena, we know for sure they're still going to use the reincarnation angle with Sylus's myths (as opposed to working them all into the same immortal continuity). So I'm really curious to see where they go with that! As much as I want space pirate Sylus, I think we'd have gotten hints that MC was around in those years if a version of her was, but all we know is he was searching for her all that time, so I don't think we'll get space pirate adventures with the two of them. (Thematically it's probably too similar to Beyond Cloudfall anyway, so I am DYING to see what they do with the upcoming myth. I kinda wonder if we'll get young Sylus x young MC, but the Companion would be adult Sylus so the whole myth can't be while they're young. But I'd bet money it's gonna be the gladiator thing still.)

This had me CACKLING and yes I totally agree! Regardless of the continuity of his lifetimes (which will probably remain vague) I'm fully bought in that either his Evol and/or his journey through the Deepspace Tunnel has given him more understanding of & access to the multi-life memories than any other character.

The small details he gets to learn about while falling in love all over again are stolen several times over and that’s a debt EVER will never be able to pay in full. If you’re a comet, shooting across the night sky, he’s the fiery trail you leave in your wake. There is no love purer than his. 🤧😩

THROW A BRICK AT ME WHY DON'T YOU (ilu) 💫🥹

The meta part of my brain wants to sit down with the writing teams soooo soooo badly and, like, pick their brains. 🤣 Like, who's in charge of the main story continuity? Why is Sylus's story so much tighter across all the different types of media than the other LIs? Do the other writing teams have that option and they just don't take advantage of it? How do I learn Chinese so I can become best friends with the Sylus writing team because I just KNOW we would get along omg.

Anyway. Bring me ALL the tinfoil hat theories!! I feel like we're gonna have so much to work with after this livestream on Friday!!!!!

#asks #answered #lads character discussion #lads character analysis #sylus character discussion #sylus lore #sylusposting #sylus brainrot #dragon sylus #lads sylus #sylus lads #love and deepspace sylus #sylus love and deepspace #sylus x mc

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