#again the would-like-to-start-off-small-as-i’m-sort-of-still-new-to-it

[scarfacemarston]

Hii, for the pride month requests, could I request Yelena Belova x female reader, with Yelena having feelings for her but not knowing how to deal with them/how to confess, she's scared of messing things up because she never had a relationship like that before. Basically fluff with a bit of an insecure Yelena and the reader comforting her. Thank you <3

Happy belated Pride Month! I meant to write this earlier and I got started, but real life got in the way so here it is now! I've not written something like this before so I hope you like it! Солнышко - means sunshine

Yelena was one of the most intriguing, complicated women you’ve ever met. You considered yourself lucky to have not only met her but also befriended her. You two met while Yelena was visiting the museum where you work. She was one of the few visitors who seemed truly engaged with the exhibits. You were surprised when she asked not just one question…..but a multitude. The questions led to a full conversation where she then asked you out for coffee after work, and you two have been close ever since.

You were not the clingy sort, but you did worry for Yelena. She would swing between visiting frequently, even daily, to radio silence for weeks or months at a time. You were always disappointed when she left, wondering if she’d ever come back, but you did nothing more than text once in a while to show you still cared. Yelena would always come back apologetic, usually looking worse for wear.

Lately, Yelena had been hanging on a wire. You finally decided to gently confront her about it.

The next time Yelena came over, you led her to your couch and sat next to her. Yelena gently raised her hand and gestured to let her speak.

“Growing up, feelings were not acceptable in the Red Room, but as a child, I experienced all the emotions - sometimes multiple in quick succession when I was wanting attention.” She said with a small smile before continuing,

“This…is hard. I’m not used to letting people in, but I want to let you in. Sometimes I feel like you’re one of the only things grounding me. I’ve not been myself. I don’t know who I am anymore. I feel like I have nothing, like I am nothing, but with you I feel alive again.” Yelena said, not meeting your eyes.

“My new job is…boring, unchallenging and soul crushing. Not different from other jobs, right? But this one, just makes me feel nothing. All I do is work and cry and drink. I want more, but I don’t know what to do.” She finished, her voice cracking. Yelena hated the shame that flowed through her.

“I’m not good at this. I’m not good at being human with emotions anymore. With relationships.” Yelena bit her lip. Should she just blurt out her feelings? Pull it off like a Band-Aid and then brace herself for the blow?

You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. You had a feeling that you knew what she was about to say. You had been feeling the same for months, but didn’t confess your feelings. You were concerned you’d frighten her off.

“Take your time, Yelena. If this isn’t a good time to talk, then that’s okay. We can do whatever you want. I can get take out and we can watch something stupid on Hulu. But I’ll be here and ready to listen if you ever need to.” You said gently. 

Yelena shook her head.

“No. I need to say it. You’re my light, my Солнышко. Sometimes, thinking of you is the only way for me to keep going. I…care for you. A lot. I’ve not done this before. I have no clue what to do, but I want to try, for you. We’ll have to go slow. I guarantee you I will fuck up at least once, but I want to try.” Yelena said apprehensively.

You felt a grin slowly spread on your face as you took her hands in yours and kissed them.

“Of course, Yelena. I’ve wanted this for so long. I just didn’t want to push you. You have so much on your shoulders, and I never want to add to that burden. I hope now that I can lessen it for you. Being your safe space means a lot to me. Thank you for trusting me, Yelena. I can’t wait to see what’s next for us.” You said, touching her cheek.

Yelena smiled, nodding,

“Me, too, Солнышко, me too.”

[kagaintheskywithdiamonds]

!!! I finally wrote the first chapter of car stan!!

And I might cross-post it to AO3, if/when I can actually come up with a title besides "car stan".

@eiriscosmo @aroace-get-out-of-my-face @kale-of-the-forbidden-cities @princessbubblecup @someoddmix @arzzly @pigeonsholdup @openendedquestionss @maridrawss @skrytch @bren-the-chicken @dark-lord-of-awesomeness @beetlbi @anotherspookyarchivist

This is not what I thought the afterlife would be like.

These were among Stan’s first thoughts when he came to in his new body.

Also not what I thought reincarnation was like.

Apparently the tow truck driver didn’t notice Stan helplessly spin his front wheels in the air when he woke up, trying to move his arms and legs only to discover that he had none.

You think the guy in that Kafka story had it bad? At least bugs still have things like a brain and a heart, Stan was fairly certain. I don’t. How the fuck am I even alive?

Never mind the fact that the jump off that bridge should’ve killed him. He was pretty sure it did. He didn’t really expect to wake up again after that, except maybe in front of the pearly gates.

Or hell, more realistically. Wasn’t suicide supposed to be a sin, or something? A really bad one?

Maybe that’s what all this was, some weird cosmic punishment.

Not that Stan was particularly worried about receiving some kind of cosmic punishment when he made his decision, because he didn’t really believe there was an afterlife, or a God at all, for that matter.

But now, having spent days staring at the back of a tow truck, Stan was certain that not only did God exist, but that he was a real sadistic bastard with a sick sense of humor.

Stan had somehow become his own car, and now he’s being towed to wherever his estranged twin brother lives. He’s about to be Ford’s car.

Because of course that’s how things would play out. He said that he wanted Ford to have the car, and amazingly someone actually respected the final requests that Stan left in that suicide note, but of course there had to be this bizarre monkey’s paw sort of twist to it.

About a week ago, Stan used the last of his spare change to call Ford one last time, and he’d actually worked up the nerve to say something instead of hanging up after three seconds of silence. Stan didn’t have high hopes that his attempts at reconciliation would go over well, but he had to try, he had to extend the olive branch one more time just in case there was any hope that he still had something left to live for.

But Ford’s words to him that night had not been so kind. That settles it, then, Stan thought at the time. I officially have nothing left to live for. I’ve got no future, I’m banned in half the country, I’m never gonna make those millions, Sixer apparently still hates my guts, and I’m so goddamn sick of living in my car.

Again, it feels like there’s a monkey’s paw twist here.

It took days of driving and quite a few pit stops before Stan arrived at his destination. He wasn’t sure where he expected that Ford would be living these days, but it wasn’t a log cabin in the middle of the woods in bum-fuck Oregon.

Gravity Falls, that’s what this tiny-ass town is called. Apparently it’s so small and unimportant that they don’t even put it on maps—much to the chagrin of the tow truck driver, who had a hell of a time finding the place.

The tow truck driver unhitched Stan in Ford’s driveway (if you could even call it a driveway. It was mostly just dirt) and Stan watched the driver approach Ford’s front door with clipboard in hand, probably so Ford could sign for delivery or something.

Stan thought about driving off right then and there. He was finally unhitched from that stupid tow, he had all four wheels on the ground, he could just drive off and start a weird new life. But for some reason he felt compelled to stay, at least for a bit longer. Stan kept his attention focused on Ford’s front door as the truck driver knocked.

Stan didn’t have a great view from where he stood (don’t ask him how he can see at all without eyes. He doesn’t even know), but he could see Ford answer the door. And he swore Ford actually looked… upset? About what?

About me being dead?

The truck driver, his business concluded, got back in his vehicle and drove away, probably glad to be done with this assignment.

Ford, meanwhile, stood almost motionless in his front door, fidgeting with the set of keys he’d just been given, seemingly deep in thought. Once the tow truck was gone, Stan watched Ford descend the steps on his front porch and walk towards the Stanleymobile.

Once Ford got closer to him, Stan was able to see that not only was Ford clearly distraught, but he actually looked like he’d recently been crying, and was possibly about to start doing so again.

Were Stan a more emotionally intelligent person, he might’ve been able to make sense of the complicated whirlwind of feelings going through his head at that moment. But it was easier to just be angry, so he was angry.

Oh, so now you give a fuck about me?! Now you care?! Stan really wished he could speak. He wished he could do anything other than keep his rage bottled up in his strange new body. It would’ve been nice of you to say that when I was still alive! I called you, I said I wanted us to be brothers again, and you acted like you still hated me, you asshole!

Ford placed a hand on the car’s hood, completely unaware of his brother’s silent rage. “Oh, Stanley…”

Don’t you “oh, Stanley” me!! Stan had to restrain himself from revving his engine in anger. You weren’t supposed to care if I live or die! I wouldn’t have gone through with it if I knew you actually still gave a damn!

Ford’s tear-streaked face was a bit of a surreal sight. Pines men don’t cry. Stan hadn’t seen Ford cry since they were children. So to think that the death of his brother—the brother that he turned his back on!—would be enough to bring him to tears…

Stan felt like he was about to spontaneously combust.

Ford lifted his head up a bit, enough to peer through the car’s windshield, and Stan noticed his eyes narrow slightly. Apparently their decade apart didn’t change the fact that Stan could still read Ford like a book. Even the subtle changes in his facial expression were enough to make Stan realize, Ford was thinking. Stan could practically see the gears turn in his head as Ford made observations, and then came to conclusions based on those observations.

Ford was noticing all the clutter inside the car.

Stan, at that moment, really wished that he’d splurged on those legally dubious tinted windows when he had the chance.

You didn’t have to be a genius like Ford to figure out that Stan had been living in his car. And, sure, Stan knew that Ford would’ve eventually figured that out when he left the car to him in his makeshift will, but he didn’t think he’d be around to watch Ford come to that conclusion, to see the look of pity on his face…

Fuck tinted windows, Stan wished he could turn invisible.

Ford looked back down at the keys in his hands and continued to fidget with them. Actually, not just fidgeting, it looked like he was getting ready to use them. Sure enough, Stan then saw Ford approach the driver’s side door with key in hand.

Ford was about to open the car up and root through all of Stan’s trash, learning just what a pathetic life he’d been living for the past decade.

Pines men are also prideful, and Stan didn’t think his pride could take that.

Stan felt the key as it was inserted. He felt his doors unlock.

Stan panicked.

His engine roared to life. And with a screech of his tires, he rocketed forward.

Ford leapt back in surprise, losing his balance and falling backwards into the dirt.

Stan came to a hard stop again just a few car-lengths forward. He could still see Ford propping himself up in the dirt, staring at the car with his mouth agape and glasses askew.

Stan realized at that moment, he probably could’ve just re-locked the doors.

He also realized he didn’t have a plan, as he froze momentarily without a clue what to do next. Maybe I should just run, he thought. Running seemed natural enough. He’d been running pretty much nonstop since he was kicked out of the house at 17. Apparently being a car (a reality that Stan was still absolutely boggled by) wasn’t going to change that.

He turned, kicking up dirt in Ford’s driveway (or the dirt-way, whatever. Stan still felt like it didn’t count as a driveway) as he made a beeline for the open road. He still didn’t have a plan. He just knew that he wanted to be anywhere other than here.

“Wait, stop!” Ford yelled as he scrambled to his feet. But Stan ignored him as he accelerated onto Gopher Road.

Fuck it, maybe I’ll travel the country, for fun this time. Stan thought as he began to picture what the next chapter in his bizarre new life might be like. Maybe I’ll go sightseeing in all the states I was banned from. They can’t ban a car, right?

The thought of existing as a carefree automobile became increasingly enticing, and Stan thought it might actually be a not-terrible existence if he could figure out a way to keep his gas tank full—but something made him hesitate, and that something was the sight of a sprinting, panting nerd in his rear-view mirror.

Amazing. Ford was actually trying to run after a self-driving car that did not know or care what this road’s speed limit was.

Before he even realized he was doing it, Stan started to slow down.

Against his better judgment, he soon came to a stop.

Stan stood still for a moment, watching as Ford put his hands on his knees, no longer able to stand upright as he gasped for breath.

Stan didn’t know why he did what he did next. He made a three-point-turn on that quiet rural road, and then slowly drove back in the direction that he came from, stopping just in front of Ford.

For a moment, the only sounds were the quiet hum of Stan’s engine, Ford’s labored breathing, and the distant chirping of birds in the woods.

That is, until Ford tried to speak.

“How…? I… And you…” Ford gasped between breaths, gesturing wildly as if that would somehow help articulate the thoughts he was trying to get out. Eventually, Stan watched Ford steady himself, take a deep breath, stand up straight, and say a full sentence:

“What the hell?”

Yeah, that’s a fair reaction.

[salsflore]

looking into drawing tablets once more ...

[alienzil]

Nanny Danny

“That is a whole ass baby,” was the only thought running through Lex Luthor’s head when the scientist proudly showed him the tube containing Project KR. It was not remotely the sort of thing he would normally think and most definitely not what he had expected to be thinking the first time he saw the clone.

He’d been pleased when he’d read the reports indicating the success of KR after years of failures. Lex had poured millions of dollars and literally his own blood into ensuring a clone of the alien could be made, one that would be under his total control instead of the unknown aspirations of Superman.  He’d wanted to see the fruits of his labors personally but this…

It. No, not an it. He scrunched his tiny face and smacked his lips and…did he smirk? Was that HIS SMIRK on that baby’s face?! No. No. Babies this small didn’t smile or smirk. They passed gas and their sleep deprived and addled parents mistook it for an intelligent response. He’d heard enough inane conversations in the Lexcorp office about the various progeny of his employees to pick up on that but still. This child had Kryptonian DNA, not to mention his own contribution. Surely, he was far more advanced than the dribbling potato shaped lump of an infant whose pictures he’d been forced to smile and nod over when Mark from accounting had rudely shoved them in his face at the last quarterly budget meeting. Yes, that was definitely a smirk. His, that was his smirk.

“So as you can see its growth is well within expected parameters and we’re planning to start phase one of accelerating the maturation process tomorrow once the testing is do-”

“Take him out.”

“Sir? The testing can all be accomplished while it remains in the tube. There’s no need to-”

“I said, take him out. The project is cancelled.”

“What?! Mr. Luthor you can’t!”

“I think you’ll find I can. Now get me my son.”

*****

Two years later

“Call them again”

“Sir, I’ve called them seven times. They won’t answer.”

“Then call another agency!”

“There isn’t another agency, Sir”

Lex glared at his assistant who stared back at him impassively. Mercy stood by the door staring off into the distance and pretending she didn’t notice him being bested by his own secretary.

He stopped himself from shouting again and took a deep breath before asking, “Then what, exactly, do you propose I do Mrs. Anderson? Adjust my entire schedule around naptimes? Find a toddler size lab coat and safety goggles and bring my son with me to tour the new clean energy project on Thursday? Perhaps buy a tiny business suit while I’m at it for the next board meeting?”

“I’m not suggesting anything of the sort, Mr. Luthor. I’m telling you that no childcare agency in Metropolis will return my calls anymore. Most won’t even answer.  You’ve gone through 27 nannies in the last 3 months. You need someone better suited to your son’s…special needs.”

Lex snorted. “Special needs might be a bit of understatement. He can lift a car over his head and his favorite word right now is No.”

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Thank you for…clarifying the situation, Marjorie. If there’s nothing else, you can leave.”

His secretary didn’t move. She looked at him like she was waiting for something and now that he was paying attention, he saw she was holding a file.  “Did you have a suggestion?”

Looking pleased with herself she responded, “Actually, yes, I did.”

“Well?”

She set the file on his desk and flipped it open. He looked down at the first page and raised an eyebrow, “What am I looking at here?”

“This,” she responded pulling out the top set of papers and spreading them out, “is the employee file and background check for Daniel J. Fenton, an intern that started in our engineering department about 4 months ago. He has one sibling, two parents and several close friends he regularly meets with. His current supervisor has nothing but good things to say about him and reports he gets along well with all his coworkers.”

She set out the next set of papers, neatly arranging them on the desk to be easily seen. “These are newspaper articles and screenshots of social media posts regarding a small town vigilante locally known as Phantom. The same small town, Mr. Fenton is from coincidentally. Also coincidentally, Phantom made his first appearance only a few weeks after Mr. Fenton was involved in a minor accident in his parent’s home laboratory when he was 14, the medical records for the incident are included.”

“Hmm,” Lex said observing several photos of Phantom and a younger Fenton arranged in order of similar poses and facial expressions and printed out side by side.

“Finally,” she said handing him the last set of papers directly, “this would be a report from the lab Mr. Fenton works in from an incident that happened yesterday. A test with a new protype went wrong and started a fire. Everyone evacuated per protocol when the alarms went off but one of the other interns was working on a programming issue off to the side of the lab while wearing headphones and didn’t hear the alarm or notice the fire. Mr. Fenton noticed his absence and returned to the lab to get him out.” She stopped talking and let him look at the last several pages in the file, a series of photographs of the lab.

“Is this ice?”

“Yes, it is. It’s several inches thick and covers half of the lab. It completely put out the fire leaving minimal damage.”

“This machine was moved?”

“It was. It was very close to the flames and would have required replacement if exposed to extreme heat or cold. That particular piece of equipment also weighs several thousand pounds and was bolted to the floor.”

Lex read through everything in detail then clasped his hands under his chin and stared at the photo of Daniel Fenton for several moments before turning back to his waiting secretary.

“Have HR send Mr. Fenton up. I’d like to offer him a promotion.”

[digitald0rk]

ANIMAL ATTRACTION

𓏵𓏵 DON'T LET HER GET AWAY ! mark grayson ( invincible ) x fem reader ( catwoman ) synopsis : in which mark tries to put a kitty back in her cage. warnings ⤻ swearing, suggestive content, you are a tease <3 mentions of blood, sexual tension, grinding? no actual smut. w.c : 3.5k. notes — mark's still a rookie hero ++ new to the GDA so yeah :3 he's trying his best! not to let his hormones control him. title is indeed a swr reference.

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ taglist ! @vm4879bb-blog @fairii-majii @hihowyoudoin00 @rayaaa4444 @wadehowl3tt @luvvcharxo @lacesoflove @urmyvalentine1 @sweetb3rry

this wasn't how it was supposed to go.

the plan was simple: retrieve the stolen jewels from the infamous thief and then take care of said thief.

so why the hell is he just staring at you from the shadows as you toy with one of the shiny red rubies, holding it up and watching as the moonlight reflects off it prettily.

“mark,” cecil's voice rings in the half viltrumite’s ear, “are you there? can you hear me kid?”

“huh? i mean yeah, yeah i’m here.”

“you catch the thief yet?”

“uh no but i’m getting to it”

liar, it's been twenty minutes, he could easily overpower you — but he hasn't, yet.

“i’ll talk to you when i’m done okay? don't want her getting suspicious or something.”

“you know i can see you, right?”

oh fuck.

a nervous chuckle escaped his lips at that, he floats closer to you sitting on the roof — all clad in that leather body suit that makes him feel lightheaded and that damn smile, you know what you're doing, there's no way you don't know the effect you have on him. he rips his gaze away from your thighs, taking a deep breath to calm himself down.

“what you did was not very nice,” he says dumbly, his voice cracks slightly at the end and he wishes the ground would swallow him.

“oh i'm well aware invinciboy.” holy shit are you teasing him? you're still playing around with the gem in your hand, it's like you're not scared or even slightly fazed by his presence, he's not sure how to feel about that.

“ah, so you know who i am?” he huffs a little proudy, “you know stealing is a crime right?” he asks, again a very dumb question but his brain is a little fried right now especially with the way you're looking at him like that.

“i’m gonna have to take you with me,” he manages to say.

“a man who knows what he wants,” you put the ruby back in the sack full of other similar precious jewels and walk closer to him, hand pressed against his chest as you lean over to whisper in his ear, “i like that.”

he's going to die.

his heart jumps at the action — beating way too fast, it's almost painful, he's sure you can hear it too.

“listen lady, you're coming with me,” he says weakly, stepping away a little and trying to put some distance between you two for his own sanity, god you smell good.

“go on and try, pretty boy,” you challenge him, holding his gaze as you step away too — you sound a little too confident, too sure of yourself.

he'll just have to put you in your place.

or maybe he won't, he feels dizzy all of a sudden before his head starts pounding and eyes start getting heavy, he groans at the pain.

and just like that, you're swinging the sack over your shoulder and getting ready to run away, looking back at him through your mask, the wind making your suit's tail sway.

“wait,” he pathetically calls out, his body feels weak — what on earth have you done to him?

you throw his way the now empty small dart, with a pointy needle attached at one end, that you stabbed him with, which was probably filled with some sort of drug or worse poison, he assumes. so that beating of his heart wasn't that painful for no reason, you had stabbed him huh? he should've been more careful — shouldn't have underestimated you.

he tries reaching for you again but his knees give out, making him fall onto the cold rough floor of the building's rooftop, he grunts and looks up at you as he tries to keep his eyes open.

and you have the audacity to blow him a kiss playfully, “we'll meet again invincible,” you even send his way a wink for good measure before you make your escape, effortlessly moving to jump from one rooftop to another, landing precisely each time.

mark reluctantly falls into a slumber, hearing cecil’s worried voice as his eyes shut down.

he feels groggy and disoriented when he wakes up in the all too familiar GDA patient rooms.

“about time,” cecil’s voice makes him sit up a little bit straighter as he tries to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

“how long was i out for?”

“almost six hours.”

it was supposed to be a simple job, in fact he only took it because he needed a break from all the intense, hard hitting, leaving-him-with-severe-injuries missions. he knows cecil is disappointed — heck, he's disappointed with himself too.

“get some rest kid, i’ll send someone else to take care of her.”

“no let me, let me fix my mistake, let me go after her again,” mark says without thinking. it's his job to stop crime, he'll do it no matter what  — is it also an excuse to see you? maybe. 

cecil sighs, “fine. but you better get that damn cat in her cage. and don't hold back this time.”

he's going to see you again. 

“why are you smiling?”

“i’m not!”

“give me that bag right now,” mark demands.

the GDA was able to track you down easily — or maybe that's what you wanted, as donald had suggested earlier.

now here he is, standing in front of you in your little hideout, the bag of precious gems behind you as you guard them with a charming smile.

“i don't appreciate your tone, sweetheart.”

“well i don't appreciate you stabbing me with a sleeping drug either.”

“heard you superheros don't get enough sleep, i’m just trying to look out for my favorite one, love.”

you're messing with him — it's working, the thought of him being your favorite in any kind of sense makes his cheeks heat up.

“don't make me use force, cat,” he threatens, walking closer. except you don't back down, you never do and it annoys him deeply. he takes a hold of your neck and pins you to the wall behind with a loud thud, the sack worth probably millions momentarily forgotten — his eyes trained on you as if he's waiting for you to validate him, his strength.

“choking? well that's certainly kinky.”

“what?” he stammers out, he knows you're enjoying this — his cheeks are flushed from both the proximity and your words.

“you heard me,” you smile up at him like he can't just crush your bones in a second of he wanted to, “didn't take you for such a bold one,” you muse aloud, nails lightly raking against his suit from his neck down to his chest, the action sending a shiver down his spine that settles low in his gut, a familiar heat starting to bloom down there.

“you're coming with me,” his voice is rough as he turns you around so your front is pressed against the cold wall and he pins your hands behind your back with one hand while the other rests on the back of your neck.

his eyes not so subtly take in the view — the leather of the black suit clings to your body deliciously, the slight arch of your back and the way the fabric stretches across your thighs and ass has his breathing hitching.

“enjoying the view back there invinciboy?” you sway your hips side to side as if to taunt him which makes him huff, the sound annoyed but undeniably laced with some sort of fondness.

“you're so annoying,” he whispers into your ear — just like you did before you decided to drug him and knock him out.

mark presses himself against your body almost unconsciously, gulping when he feels the swell of your ass rub against his very obvious hard problem.

“is that a gun or are you just excited to see me?”

“shut up,” he mutters, embarrassed but still wishing you'd continue to grind back on him to offer him some sort of relief — relief which he hasn't been able to get ever since your first meeting.

“well then maybe you should put my mouth to good use.”

excuse me? his mouth goes dry at your comment.

and for a moment his teenage hormone driven brain even considers the very obvious inappropriate insinuation before he snaps out of it at cecil’s voice.

the bag.

mark drags you with him, manhandling you — something which you look a little too happy with but he doesn't comment on it, instead he grabs the bag with his free hand that's not restricting your arms but it feels suspiciously light.

so he empties out its contents carefully and lo and behold, it's only filled with a handful of gemstones — the bottom is filled with cotton and other trash of no use.

he glares at you, scoffing when you only playfully bat your eyelashes at him, feigning innocence.

“where's the rest of them?”

“maybe they turned into wool?” you shrug and his eye twitches.

“don't play dumb with me cat, where are they?” his patience is running thin.

“fineeee, they're in the vault down there, under the desk.”

he's still wary of you — for good reason, but he knows he can stop you if you try to run away and plus his main priority is those stupid gems so he lets you go, moving to locate the said vault.

he manages to find it, entering the passcode you gave him and opens the metal vault.

mark immediately gets hit in the face with some sort of gas can which leaves him coughing and wheezing, the purple colored gas leaking and making it hard to see, even his eyes start watering a bit as he tries to find where you are.

you yelp when he ends up yanking your tail, dragging you right to him and where the fuck did you get that mask? of course you planned everything till the end, you always do.

he's about to catch you, once and for all but you catch him off guard, pulling the dirtiest, most unfair trick in the book, a kick right to his family jewels. ouch.

he winces loudly and stumbles back a little, the purple haze only getting more dense as the seconds tick by making it even harder to see, he can make out the faint sound of your pretty voice through the gas mask, “sorry!” yeah right, you don't sound sorry at all.

his eyes feel heavy, not this again — does this woman have a thing for knocking people out or something? mark thinks as his consciousness starts to fade out, the sound of your footsteps fading away as well.

and just like that you've slipped through his fingers. again.

he'll catch you, just you wait.

he wakes up after god knows how many hours, why the fuck is he all tied up with a mirror in front of him — he groans in frustration when he comes to the conclusion it's probably your doing.

i mean who else would draw cat whiskers and a dot on his nose and leave him tied up in the same spot he was once again outsmarted by you — it is humiliating and he is definitely not turned on by the idea of you tying him up to do something else. nope. no.

oh right there's cecil, clearly not amused.

“mark.”

the younger man sighs, he knows he's in for it.

much to his surprise, the stolen jewels — half of them, were found in the same bag behind some important political building which mark would know of if he did actually pay attention in class and wasn't busy day dreaming about catching you, chasing after you — the thrill of it all is something he craves.

he knows you steal from the rich, but it's still a crime. 

so when he catches you in the act of seemingly stealing another thing, in broad daylight this time, that honestly he could care less about, he wastes no time flying over and grabbing your tail — okay, he may or may not have a thing for pulling on it.

“cat.” he tackles you to the ground, palms sweaty at how close you two are— which to his amusement you look very happy about, being underneath him like this. it's almost as if you planned this too.

your bodies pressed together has him acting up, a soft almost imperceptible sound leaving his mouth. the softness of your chest against his, your nails lightly raking up and down his arms, he feels himself getting worked up.

“invincible.” you smile up at him like you can see right through him, like you know how red his face is beneath that mask.

“come on, just hand over whatever you've stolen.” he grunts when you swiftly move to roll over with him, he's now under you.

“you mean your heart? oh sweet boy it's right there,” your place your palm flat against his erratically beating heart, “although it seems like it will jump out any second,” you chuckle, those annoyingly alluring eyes staring right into his soul.

“stop that.” he says weakly even though his hands move to settle on your hips, his mind already going a mile a minute as he takes in the position you two find yourself in.

“stop what?” you shift slightly on top of him, sitting up and he pathetically chases the friction of your leather clad body rubbing against his bulge, a small sound escaping his lips much to his horror.

“looking at me like that.” it makes his skin feel like it's on fire.

wait, no why are you getting up?  goddamnit it no!

mark can't help but gasp when your heeled foot rests on his chest, the heel slightly digging into his suit, the pressure is delicious and so is the view — you standing over him, looking down at him like that, like you'll eat him alive, he's not sure how his heart hasn't given out yet. if omniman finds out about this he's sure his father would never look at him the same.

and then you drag the heel down, from his chest down to his needy aching clothed cock and gently apply more pressure by shifting more of your weight onto it and he moans so prettily — a familiar throb settles between your legs.

he desperately bucks his hips up, but you pull away completely, leaving him flushed and panting oh so horny.

“you're evil,” he frowns up at you, reaching to tug on your suit's tail, holding back a chuckle at your little gasp as you lose your balance.

“you seem to enjoy it.” you're not wrong.

you throw his way the small pouch you stole before jumping down to make your escape like you always do, leaving him needy, conflicted and confused each time.

he sighs as he undoes the strings closing the pouch to open it, curious to see what you'd given up on so easily.

his jaw practically falls to the floor.

you fucking tease.

it's a pair of panties — your panties, a small note falls out of the pouch too, “have fun sweetheart,” it says, as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

he should've known, those wide eyes of yours as he caught you “stealing” were just for show.

he resists the urge to just relieve himself right then and there, hands toying with the soft fabric of the material in his hand, mouth going dry as he rubs his thumb across the gusset, mind going into overdrive.

god, does this mean you know that he's a pervert and touches himself to the thought of you?

he needs a cold shower.

with the way everything is going in the superhero business, mark decides to quit GDA to clear things up and just help people without cecil barking orders at him.

it definitely has nothing to do with the fact that cecil had to witness you two being horny bastards, grinding on each other because holy shit did you look good with blood on you.

mark blamed it on some villain's “sex pollen” afterwards, both cecil and him knowing it's a damn lie.

yeah no, he's going to stay away from cecil for a bit, that was embarrassing — although he has zero regrets.

“sorry for you know . . . kicking your balls and making you lose your job.”

you say it so casually like you didn't just once again somehow manage to knock him unconscious when he was on his way back to his house from a mission — where the hell are you getting all these resources and equipment from anyways?

and now he's here, hanging upside down by some flimsy rope that you both know he can easily break, but he won't.

last time he used his strength, you ran away and that did not sit well with him no matter how much he tried to deny it.

so he'll indulge you in your antics as long as your attention is on him and him only.

“apology rejected.”

you act wounded at his words like he's ripped your heart out or something with the way you're clutching your chest all dramatically, the action makes his lips twitch into a small smile.

“well that won't do,” your eyes sparkle with that gleam, dangerous and all too familiar to him, “how can i make you accept my apology then, invincible?” 

it seems like you already have something in mind because you're leaning closer and closer, until your lips are only an inch apart from his.

except obviously you don't act all suave about it and have to say some shit like, “damn your lips are dry as hell,” which makes him laugh more than self-conscious, he knows they're not dry — he's been taking care of himself a lot more ever since you've stepped into his life, you know just in case you two kiss or something, a small innocent, okay maybe not innocent, but nevertheless a fantasy that he certainly does not dream about everyday.

his dad did not tell him that being a superhero comes with whatever this is, he was never told it meant being stuck with an annoyingly hot woman who he's ready to do a concerning amount of things for, just for the rush of adrenaline that he's sure he's grown addicted to.

just like he's grown addicted to your presence.

“i think you need to moisturize them,” you clear your throat, your flirty facade breaking the tiniest bit, eyes glued to his lips.

and he's not that dumb. he knows what you want and lucky for you he wants that too — maybe even more than you.

“yeah i really do, think you can help me out with that cat?” 

“i think i can,” your lips brush against his teasingly — but you're holding yourself back, giving him the option to back away if you've read into the situation wrong but he doesn't. instead he firmly presses his lips against yours and for all the innuendos that get thrown around between you two and the undeniable sexual tension, the kiss is sweet, almost tender — his lips moving in tandem with yours.

it lasts for what feels like an eternity — but not nearly enough when you two pull away. he immediately regrets the action.

he doesn't need to breathe, he needs you.

mark chases your lips, fully expecting you to tease him about his clear desperation but you don't, you kiss him back, again.

“is my apology accepted now?” you mumble against his lips, he chuckles at your words having completely forgotten about that, “yeah,” he gives you a lopsided grin that has you smiling back.

“you gotta work on your morals, kissing a thief? now that's just low invincible”

“no no it wasn't kissing, remember? you were-”, he tried to do air quotes before realizing his hands are still tied, “you were helping me moisture my lips, no?” he teases you back, the playful banter flows easily between you two, like always.

“oh right, my bad, moisturizing.”

“i think my lips are still dry though.” he sheepishly says, hoping you'll kiss him some more.

and you do.

this is so wrong, he knows that, but your lips against his feel like heaven, your hand cupping his jaw oh so gently like he's made of glass just feels so right.

he stiffens slightly when he feels you lick a strip up his face. you menace, his eyes snap open and look at you in mock disappointment.

“are you ever not horny?

“that's bold coming from you invincible.”

“you're gonna leave me blue balled again, aren't you, you tease?” he sighs exasperatedly.

you gasp, “at least take me out on a date first,” your faux offense is adorable — like you haven't been making his life a literal nightmare with all those teasing touches and heated gazes.

he forgets whatever he was about to say when you gently force his jaw open, thumb tracing his jawline while you slide a piece of paper in his mouth, “close your mouth,” your tone alone is enough to make him obey, closing his mouth — teeth holding onto the paper’s edge.

“good boy.”

mark feels himself getting hot and bothered at your praise. he holds your gaze, hoping for an explanation.

“my number, love.”

oh, so you weren't messing around for once.

you press one last kiss, to the tip of his nose before hopping onto some building's ledge, your body moving gracefully, once again leaving him hanging — quite literally this time.

© digitald0rk 2025. do not steal, repost or translate any of my work. want more? click here ★

[navybrat817]

Vanilla Frosting

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky takes a call at home and you decide to tease him a bit.

Word Count: Over 1k

Warnings: Established relationship, banter, teasing, dirty thoughts, very slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?) and he worships you.

A/N: I blame these photos as they gave me CEO vibes. And @whisperlullaby and @targaryenvampireslayer . Again, before our couple has Muffin and Bean. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“I thought you said no calls, Boss.”

Bucky sighed and rolled up his sleeves as he looked toward the kitchen. You stood in the doorway with crossed arms and slow building irritation in your eyes. The sight of you always lightened his mood and made his heart race, but that look wasn't a good sign. Oh, he was in trouble.

Some sort of trouble.

As a CEO, he was always prepared to take the fall when it came to his company. Seeing your kissable mouth set in a grim line though? “It’s Steve’s fault,” he blurted out, throwing his best friend under the bus without hesitation.

“Really, Buck?” Steve’s voice rang out from the laptop speaker.

“Yeah, really,” he snapped. When Steve found a partner like you, he’d get why he bent his will to you over everyone else. Hell, he welcomed Steve getting a bit of payback because it would mean his best friend would have found happiness. “I’m sorry, Cupcake,” he added in a softer tone to you.

He didn’t want to take the call, he really didn’t. All he wanted to do was hold you and forget about the stress of work for an evening. He even assured you that there would be no work tonight, but Steve insisted he get on a video chat with some of the executive team. God knew the punk was relentless, but the unimpressed look on your face made him want to fire everyone and start from scratch.

The two of you had plenty of money, so you’d be set if he went that route.

“Steve’s fault, huh?” You slowly smiled after a moment. “Okay. You take the call and I’ll start making some cupcakes.”

Bucky cocked his head with a confused stare as you went further into the kitchen and out of sight. Baking cupcakes wasn't out of the ordinary for you, but you saying “okay” wasn't okay. He knew better. There was no possible way he was off the hook for this. He already had at least ten gifts in mind to buy you once the call wrapped up.

“I love you,” he called after you, not at all ashamed for anyone to hear that as they joined the meeting. If anyone eyeballed him or said an unkind word about voicing his feelings for you outside of the office, they could find another job.

“Love you, too!” You called back.

That brought a small smile to his face. “Let’s get started so we can all get back to our regular evening plans,” he said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.

After a minute, he glanced over the monitor as he heard gentle movement in the kitchen. You weren't slamming things around, which was good. You understood how crazy things could get since you were his secretary. It didn't mean he enjoyed taking time away from the two of you and he didn’t want you upset with him. Even if you weren't upset, he still had to make it up to you. He-

“Hey, Bucky?” Your eyes lit up as you appeared in the doorway again with a small bowl. He was certain he forgot how to breathe when he eyed what you were wearing: a new black and white apron. And nothing else. Jesus fucking Christ. “You want vanilla frosting for the cupcakes, right?”

Bucky subtly shifted in his seat as you sauntered further into the room, his throat dry at the sight of you. The curve of your hips, your hardened nipples teasing him through the fabric. Calling you beautiful wasn't enough. Your beauty was transcendent, indescribable. The kind that made the strongest of people drop to their knees. He was a powerful man, but still just a man at the end of the day and you rendered him powerless. And right now he needed to focus on the call, but how could he focus on anything but you?

He cleared his throat when Jack rambled on about something. Or was it John? Who gave a fuck? “Cupcake,” he growled.

“I know I do. Maybe you can frost me later?” You scooped a bit of frosting onto your finger and wrapped your lips around it with an obscene moan. Thankfully he had his microphone turned off. They didn't need to hear your pretty sounds. “Mmm.”

He groaned when you showed him your tongue. He knew it was frosting, but the image made it easy to picture you wrapping your warm mouth around his cock and showing him his release before you swallowed like a good girl. It took a lot of control not to palm himself. Surely everyone would understand if he ended the call now. Why the fuck did he take this call?

Making sure his hand was out of sight, he beckoned you closer with his finger. If he was lucky he could get you to take the apron off, sit in the nearby chair, and touch yourself. Or you could keep the apron on. As long as he could see your glistening pussy. Even looking wouldn't be enough. He had to get his mouth on it, his cock in it.

But you didn't go to him.

Instead, you tsked with the finger you licked and pointed at the laptop. “Oh, no, Boss. You listened to Steve and took the call. Now deal with the consequences,” you smiled sweetly, turning on your heel and giving him the perfect view of your ass as you walked back into the kitchen.

Yep, he was in big trouble.

Bucky's fists clenched as he got back to the task at hand, but he also chuckled. He deserved a bit of blue balls for the time being. He also had to respect the way you played the game, but he knew how to play the game, too. Before the night was over, he’d be back in your good graces. He’d eat one of your delicious cupcakes before he got a taste of you. And he'd remind you that he didn't have the world because of money, power, or any of that.

Bucky Barnes had the world because he had you.

Oh, these two. 🥰 Steve isn't even upset for getting blamed. 🤣 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[pacofprunes]

Most likely to slap reader during an argument.

Thanos

Nam gyu

Hwang inho

Myung gyi

_💐

warnings — domestic abuse, crying mentions, drugs mentioned, withdraws mentioned, short one for inho

1. thanos

when he’s off the drugs i actually think myung-gi would be more likely to and would be number one, however, thanos pupils are huge the entire series, so i’m just basing it off of that.

i think pestering him in arguments is the quickest way for this to happen. if it’s a short argument, he’s just going to yell at you. however, if it’s a longer argument and he thinks you’re pestering him and treating him like a child and you’re close to him and keep following him around, he’s quick to just swing his hand out without a second thought and after the fact he still will stand there angry and upset. it’s not until when he steps away and has a few minutes to himself that he realizes his mistake or until he sees a red mark littering your cheek that he realizes what he’s done. and even then he doesn’t immediately apologize to you. if he’s high he’ll give you a half assed apology.

“baby, i’m sorry, i’ll make it up to you.” while caressing the side of your cheek. now on the rare occasion that he’s not high, he’ll stare at you in absolute shock after he realizes before immediately pulling you into a hug. in that hug it’s like he’s not breathing. it’s like after yong-sik and his mom meet after a round of the mingle game, yong-sik staring into space almost, eyes wide open, tears slowly spilling over his eyes as his mom hugs him before he breaks down apologizing over and over.

that’s what thanos does. just a little less extreme where a few tears might slip and he slowly squeezes you tighter, afraid you’ll slip out of his grasp. mumbling sorrys that you can barely comprehend because he’s holding in a cry so his words start cracking apart, threatening to let out a giant sob once you squeeze him tighter and he starts to feel his chest getting wet with your tears and hearing your own sobs. he wanted to promise you and himself that he would never do this to you again, but thanos always made promises that he couldn’t keep.

2. myung-gi

i think if you pester him a lot (aka try talking things out like a couple should) he would also be more likely to hit you like thanos, but i think he just gets more agitated in general. he’s already a pretty toxic guy to have as a boyfriend, he’s not going to draw the line at hitting. he doesn’t want to push it to that point, it’s not intentional, it just sort of happens…

it starts with him starting to manhandle you, pulling you by your wrist like you’re a doll if you piss him off in public. when you’re plain out arguing you notice he starts to practically rip out his own hair now, his fingernails digging into his palms. the moment he strikes you he doesn’t look at you, he either just walks away, still fuming, cursing under his breath, or he just continues to argue with you, not truly caring for what he did.

honestly, he has zero plans on actually apologizing to you. he’ll either just go on with his day, talk to you like nothing happened the night before or he’ll give you a small gift without officially saying that it’s his way of apologizing. he has a pretty big amount of pride and he will not apologize unless you threaten to leave for a couple days or leave him forever.

“you’re being dramatic! sorry? okay? is that what you want to hear?”

or

“don’t be so irrational. i’m sorry. can you just move on now? i have.”

he can be a good boyfriend but if you go down this route with him, he’s not going back to how you guys used to be, and you can expect to have a red sting on your cheek for quite awhile. he’s not proud of what he did and he doesn’t enjoy hurting you, and deep down he is sorry, but he’s not going to tell you that unless you force him to. he doesn’t wanna lose you, but his pride is way too high. if you don’t want him anymore all because of a ‘dumb mistake’ he’ll restart with someone new who’s not as ‘sensitive’ and ‘dramatic’ as you.

3. nam-gyu

it was pretty hard to choose between nam-gyu and inho/youngil but i think due to drugs and stress, he’s a lot more likely to do so than him.

i don’t believe he would ever hit you if he wasn’t high. however, if he’s using or he’s going through withdraws and you get into an argument with him, there’s zero hesitation before his hand goes up to your face. the argument doesn’t have to be a long one for this to happen either, you both could get two words out and then it’ll just happen. but despite being high and not in his right mind, he would immediately grab your face with both of his hands, eyes wide, rubbing his hand over the red forming on your cheek before pulling you into a hug and pushing your face into his neck, holding the back of your head and rubbing his hands over your hair. the whole time his eyes are wide open, tears flowing like a waterfall out of his eyes while he tries to shush your own, his words shaky and his lips quivering. struggling to get any words out.

“baby, oh—oh m’-my god. i’m so sorry, sh, please don’t cry, m’ so sor—sor..ry’..”

he could hold you there with your head in the crook of his neck and on his shoulder forever. every time he feels the spot dampen he just grips you tighter and tighter, more and more apologies coming out of his mouth. the next day he’d immediately make you breakfast (despite not being the best at cooking) and he’d immediately shower you with love and kisses. it wasn’t just for you, but it was for his own state of mind as well. he genuinely thought he was going to die after what he’d just done to you. it only gave him more motivation to stop using. he didn’t want to hurt you ever again. he wouldn’t hurt you ever again.

4. inho / youngil

i can’t actually see him hitting you but if and when he does he will apologize immediately after. pulling you into a side hug and rubbing your back. he assures you he’s very sorry and then he kind of just moves on and tries laughing it off. arguing with him in general feels like he’s trying to treat you like a child. he always just brushes arguments off and laughs it off, sometimes even saying that maybe you need to rest or lay down, you’ve probably just had a long day and that’s why you’re so upset. it only makes you angrier with him, causing you to just raise your voice even more, stepping closer and closer to him and that’s when it just happens.

“i’m sorry baby, you just pushed me a little. it’s okay though.” and then he moves on like nothing happened. honestly the way he says it makes it seem like he’s insinuating that it’s your fault and you two never mention it again. it always lingers with you though, but the second after it happened it was as if he just forgot. in fact to him, it never even happened.

[rose24207]

Excuse me, dear?

Summary: A kind and hardworking girl working in a women’s clothing department helps a sweet grandmother find a blouse in the right size, and when the grandmother’s handsome grandson comes to pick it up, he’s instantly captivated by her warmth and charm, sparking an unexpected connection.

Ahn Suho x reader

Part two

A/N: Fun fact: This is me in real life, but without the romance and Suho.

Navigation

You don’t know what’s more exhausting—the fact that your shift started at 10 a.m. and you’ve already restocked the clearance rack five times, or the way customers loudly complain about how “messy” the store is… while throwing cardigans on the floor like it’s a sport.

A woman in her 50s sighs dramatically as she steps over a crumpled blouse.
���It’s like a war zone in here,” she says, voice deliberately loud enough for you to hear. “No pride in presentation anymore.”

You paste on your best retail smile and nod.
“Yes, ma’am. Let me know if I can help you with anything.”

She ignores you, of course.

With a sigh of your own, you kneel down to start folding again. You’re a full-time student, juggling classes and this part-time job, and though your feet hurt and your smile is starting to twitch at the corners, you refuse to let this place break you. You have bills to pay and a dream to chase.

You’re halfway through sorting a pile of misplaced cardigans when a gentle voice draws your attention.

“Excuse me, dear?”

You look up and meet the warmest eyes you’ve seen all day. An elderly woman with perfect silver hair and a soft lavender sweater is holding up a blouse—pastel blue, floral, elegant.

It’s one of the newer arrivals, definitely more suited for her generation than the TikTok-hyped mini dresses you keep finding stuffed into the wrong sections.

“Would you happen to have this in a medium?” she asks sweetly.

Your smile turns genuine. “Let me check for you.”

You pull the scanner phone from your lanyard and beep the tag. The small screen loads slowly, spinning like it knows your patience is thin. Finally, the inventory appears.

“Good news,” you say. “We have two mediums left—one in the stockroom and one on this floor. I’ll go hunt them down for you.”

The woman beams, crinkles by her eyes deepening.
“You’re a doll, thank you. I tried looking, but these racks make me feel like I’m in a maze.”

You laugh lightly. “You’re not wrong.”

You dash off to the far side of the floor first, and sure enough, you find the blouse tucked behind a dress on the wrong hanger. With practiced hands, you bring it back to her, holding it up triumphantly.

“Here you go! Medium and wrinkle-free.”

She claps her hands together. “Perfect. My grandson will be thrilled.”

You raise an eyebrow playfully. “Is it for him?”

She laughs, and it makes you giggle too. “No, dear. I’m too old to go upstairs and back down, and I still want to look nice when I see my friends. He’s going to pick it up for me a little later.”

“That’s sweet of him.”

She hesitates. “Would you mind terribly if I left this behind the counter? I know it’s not usually allowed, but I didn’t want to drag it through the entire store.”

You glance around. Technically, it is against policy, but she’s been kind and polite—rare commodities on this floor. You smile and lean in slightly.

“I’ll stash it for you behind the register. Just tell your grandson to ask for the floral blouse his grandmother left.”

She winks. “You’re an angel. I’ll tell him exactly that.”

She pats your hand gently before heading to the escalator. You watch her go, a warm feeling blooming in your chest.

Maybe today won’t be so bad.

About twenty minutes later, you’re helping a stressed-out customer look for a specific black blouse that’s apparently been discontinued.

“Are you sure you don’t have it?” the woman asks for the fifth time.

You keep your voice light. “It looks like we’re out in this store, but—” you tap your screen, “—our sister store down the street has it in your size.”

She lights up. “Really? That’s not far!”

You nod. “You can either go there or call ahead and ask them to put it on hold for you.”

“Oh my gosh, thank you. I thought I was going to have to settle for something else.”

You smile. “No settling on my watch.”

She laughs—a genuine, grateful sound—and waves as she heads for the exit.

You breathe out, proud of yourself for helping her without crumbling under retail pressure. You turn back to your task before… only to find a guy standing there waiting.

He’s leaning against the register counter with his arms crossed, wearing a simple black hoodie and jeans, his dark hair slightly messy but undeniably intentional. His gaze flicks up to meet yours the moment you notice him.

“Oh!” you say, stepping closer. “Sorry for the wait, I was helping someone with an item.”

He smiles slightly, eyes warm but curious. “No worries.”

There’s something… familiar about him. Not that you’ve met him before—but his face could belong on a poster. You ignore the flutter in your stomach and ask,

“Are you here for the floral blouse?”

He nods. “Yeah. My grandma said she left it with someone nice downstairs.”

You grin. “Then you must be the grandson.”

You duck behind the counter and pull out the carefully folded blouse, still on its hanger, the tag neatly pinned.

“She was lovely. Had the best manners I’ve seen all day.”

He laughs—a low, soft sound—and takes the blouse from your hands, brushing your fingers slightly. “That sounds like her.”

He pauses, glancing at the blouse, then back at you. “You folded this?”

You nod. “Guilty.”

He looks impressed. “You did a better job than most of the packaging I’ve ordered online.”

You snort. “You should see me on a good day.”

There’s a moment where neither of you speaks. He’s just… looking at you. Not in a creepy way—just surprised. Or struck, maybe. Like he expected someone else. Someone older, maybe grumpier. Not a pretty girl with tired eyes and a shy smile.

“I’m Suho, by the way,” he says, breaking the silence.

You blink, a little caught off guard. “Oh. Nice to meet you.”

He offers his hand, and you shake it lightly. “I’m… just y/n.”

“Just-y/n works.”

Your face warms. You glance away, suddenly very aware of your scuffed black flats and the wrinkle in your shirt from bending over racks all morning.

“Your grandma has great taste, by the way,” you add quickly, trying to change the subject.

“She does,” he agrees, still watching you. “But I think she also has matchmaking instincts.”

You laugh, surprised. “Excuse me?”

“She told me, ‘The girl downstairs is so sweet. She has kind eyes.’” He shrugs, trying to look casual, but his ears are pink.

You’re half flattered, half flustered. “Well, I try to keep my eyes from rolling at rude customers, so that’s nice to hear.”

That earns you a real laugh from him, deep and warm. “You’re funny.”

You shrug. “Survival tactic.”

He lifts the bag with the blouse inside. “Well… thanks for the rescue. She’ll be happy.”

“Anytime,” you say, tucking hair behind your ear.

Suho hesitates, like he wants to say more, but then gestures to the escalator. “I should head up before she buys more things just to make me carry them.”

You smile. “Have fun on the third floor. The kids section is wild.”

He points at you, backing away. “You do have kind eyes. She was right.”

You laugh, watching him disappear around the corner with your heart fluttering embarrassingly in your chest.

Two Days Later, you’re working another shift when you hear familiar laughter near the register. You glance up, and your breath catches.

Suho.

He’s holding a coffee in one hand and a small paper bag in the other, looking right at you like he expected you to be here.

“Hey,” he says, sliding up to the counter.

“Hi,” you say, surprised but smiling. “Back for more floral blouses?”

“Tempting, but no.” He places the coffee on the counter. “For you.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Me?”

“You looked like you could use one last time. And… I figured it was a good excuse to come back.”

You take the drink slowly, warmth creeping up your neck. “Thanks.”

He slides the paper bag over next. “Also, I grabbed one of those crazy chocolate croissants from the third floor café. Don’t tell the kids.”

You laugh. “I won’t if you won’t.”

There’s a beat of silence. You feel him watching you again.

“Look,” he says, suddenly shy. “I don’t usually do this. But… I wanted to know if you’d maybe want to grab lunch sometime? When you’re not saving grandmas and scolding messy customers.”

You blink. Then smile.

“Are you asking me out because I folded a blouse really well?”

“I mean,” he grins, “it was a pretty impressive fold.”

You tilt your head. “And if I say yes?”

“Then I’d say your kind eyes are just the start.”

Your cheeks burn, but you nod slowly. “Okay. Lunch sounds nice.”

Suho beams. Like you just handed him a winning lottery ticket.

“You have no idea how relieved I am right now,” he says.

You laugh. “Just promise not to complain about my department being messy.”

“I’d never,” he says solemnly. “I saw what the customers do firsthand. It’s basically a jungle down here.”

And for the first time in a long time, you feel seen.

Not just by a customer, not just by a cute guy—but by someone who watched you do your job with grace, who waited while you helped others, and who still thought you were pretty great.

Kind eyes and all.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @same1995, @amatswimming, @llando4norris, @dr3wstarkey, @hurtblossom, @ernegren, @esposamultifandom, @darleneslane

[wileys-russo]

pass outs and paperwork II fresa putellas (oc) x solstråle engen (oc)

the people have spoken - a little fresa x sol fic set in the future after they’ve gotten together written by @girlgenius1111 and i for your enjoyment! pass outs and paperwork II fresa putellas (oc) x solstråle engen (oc)

“and you’re sure i have to do this?” sol sighed heavily, refusing to make a move from the passenger seat as mapi cut the engine off, having parked right outside the clinic. “sí mi sol, unless you would rather go back to the doctor and-” the norwegians seatbelt was undone and she practically flew from the car making mapi chuckle.

“can we get a coffee first? we should get a coffee first.” sol tried to run and was stopped in her tracks by the shorter spaniard in front of her. “no you have to fast you know this nena. i reminded you, ingrid reminded you and i know fresa reminded you. clinic first, coffee later, i will even buy you lunch after.” mapi patted her back, turning her around and lovingly pushing her forward toward the clinic.

“oh wait, my phone! i left my phone in the car mapi i have to go back and get it." sol scoffed again trying to turn back as mapi hummed knowing it was a lie, shaking her head and turning her back around, a slightly harsher shove forward this time.

sol couldn’t even take her time entering as the doors were of course automatic, opening by themselves the moment she was within a foot's distance, mapi’s hands on her shoulders still walking her forward despite their obvious height difference the defender was stronger than she seemed.

“vamos solstråle, that nurse there is cute eh? should we go talk to her?” mapi teased making sol roll her eyes, the norwegian's girlfriend not having noticed them come in yet as she sat typing away at the front desk.

“she’s not technically a registered nurse yet actually she-'' sol started, words dying in her mouth as fresa heard her voice and looked up, smiling in their direction as the older girl's knees buckled making mapi snort with amusement and mutter some sort of teasing remark under her breath.

“bon dia! i will not lie maría, i really did not think you would get her here." fresa grinned as the pair arrived in front of her, only three other people sat in the waiting room. “hey!” sol frowned as her girlfriend sent her a wink, reaching under the desk and grabbing out a clipboard with a new patient's form and a pen.

“fill this in then bring it back over and we’ll head back, don’t lie on it solstråle.” fresa warned, a perfectly manicured finger held up menacingly as her girlfriend's eyes rolled and she grabbed the clipboard, the younger girl blowing her a kiss and turning back to the monitor in front of her.

“dios mio you really see the alexia in her as she gets older don’t you? i thought it was bad when she was a niña but now she is so bossy, just like her hermana!” mapi tutted as the pair sat down in the waiting room, sol starting to fill in the new patient sheet with a hum.

“translate please.” the norwegian gave in with a defeated sigh after struggling through the first two questions, shifting the clipboard onto the defender's knee and handing her the pen.

it shocked her that mapi barely had to check anything with her, near flawlessly filling in all of her health details and only clarifying a few small things here and there when the defender wasn’t sure.

“acabado. now go give it to that cute bossy nurse!” mapi handed her back the clipboard with a smirk anna wink as sol shot her a dirty look. “yeah yeah she’s not a nurse, now hurry up i’m hungry!” mapi mocked, shooing for her to go, pulling out her phone as the girl stood.

“you’re hungry? i’m the one whose fasting! you ate two dinners last night!” the younger girl scoffed as the spaniard just impatiently waved her off toward the front desk.

“gracias amor!” fresa sang out, plucking the paper from the girl's grasp, setting it down in front of her and beginning to quickly type everything into their system to set her up with a clinic profile.

“you look very pretty today.” sol smiled charmingly, resting her chin on her fist as her girlfriend glanced up in amusement with a small smile.

“you look pretty everyday.” “you look prettier.” “you’re the prettiest.” “you look prettier than the prettiest so-”

“excuse me this is a work environment not a bar, be professional putellas no flirting with the patients!” fresa rolled her eyes as one of her coworkers, carmen, joined her, watching with a grin as sol's face flushed bright red in embarrassment and she quickly straightened up from where she’d been leaning against the front desk.

“ignore her cari. she is just joking, jealous and hopelessly lonely.” fresa teased her friend with a sarcastic pout who pulled a face back, the catalan sending her girlfriend a wink as she finished inputting her information into their system.

“vale. ready?” the younger girl pushed back out of her chair, swapping out with her coworker who sent sol a kind smile and took her seat at the monitor, fresa moving out from the front desk. “no.” the norwegian mumbled nervously under her breath, following slowly after her girlfriend as mapi joined them, the trio heading out of reception and toward the collection rooms down the hall.

“go into this one here. solstråle mi amor up on the bench and take your hoodie off por favor, mapi you sit down in that chair, and i will be just a minute." fresa slid open a door on the right and gestured inside. “oh and don’t touch anything maría, i mean it.” the youngest putellas warned seriously, closing the door again and leaving the pair alone.

“see! diablillo. so bossy, just like alexia.” mapi scoffed, though the norwegian kicked her gently as the older girl immediately reached out to grab a 3D model of a heart from the desk in front of her. “well she has a point.” sol chuckled as mapi huffed and crossed her arms, dropping the model back down on the desk. though seeing sol's face pale as she looked around at the posters and shrugged off her hoodie mapi sat up properly knowing she was needed now.

“hey. mi sol you will be fine nena, you are in the best hands possible you know fresa would never hurt you.” mapi promised softly, a hand settling on the younger girl's knee as she sat up on the bench with a shaky nod, chest tightening with anxiety as her left leg bounced lightly up and down.

the norwegian jumped suddenly as the door slid open again and closed with a small bang, her girlfriend returning with an armful of vials and a box of gloves, setting them down and messing about grabbing out a few more items from the drawers beneath.

“did you touch this? i said no touching, tonta! why do you have such big ears if you cannot use them to listen?” the brunette narrowed her eyes, smacking mapi on the shoulder and moving the 3D heart back where it came from as the older girl whined about abusing clients in the workplace making fresa roll her eyes.

“now cariño do you want me to explain exactly what i am doing as i go, or do you want me to go ahead and have the bocaza distract you?” fresa stopped right in front of her girlfriend, hands on her knees and a kind smile on her lips as she jerked her thumb toward the tattooed defender beside her.

mapi scoffing in offence at the nickname she muttered something under her breath, resisting the urge to sweep the youngest putellas’s legs out from beneath her.

“i don’t know.” sol answered quietly, fresa grabbing her hands where they nervously fidgeted in her lap. “okay. well first i am going to get this band and wrap it around your bicep, then i will pump it with air and that will feel strange but it is to cut off the blood flow so it is easier for me to find your vein.'' fresa explained softly, sol nodding in understanding.

“aquí bebé, fiddle with this but try to sit still, then we can get this done faster!” the younger girl messed around with the tie on the woven bracelet on her wrist.

sol knew it held a large amount of meaning to her girlfriend, given to fresa by her sister alba to help with her own nerves when she was much younger, the girls older sister now always replacing it with a new one she’d make when the strings would fray and fade.

managing to untie it fresa wasted no time tugging it off and slipping it onto her girlfriend's wrist, tying it back up with a smile and softly kissing the taller girls palm as mapi fake gagged, a loud smack echoing as again fresa’s hand collided this time with the back of her head.

“bocaza, distract her.” fresa ordered addressing mapi this time with a click of her fingers as she grabbed out the band. “no please? no manners? your hermana raised you better than this.” mapi tutted as fresa rolled her eyes. “stop feeding alexia’s delusions that she’s my mami, she is already too protective.” the girl huffed, grabbing her girlfriends arm and wrapping the band around before starting to pump the air which sure enough felt strange as sol grimaced.

“do you think when ale has kids they will call you tía or hermana?”

“maría, you are supposed to be distracting sol, not annoying me. or one of these needles might slip and fall into your leg, or maybe your forehead. ya sabes i am not trained in botox but…” fresa threatened as her girlfriend cracked a genuine smile and mapi’s jaw fell open in shock.

“if we were not in your place of work, diablillo…” mapi inhaled with a shake of her head, the younger spaniard smirking and sending her girlfriend a wink. “i can take you anyday león. i have before!'' fresa reminded as mapi’s face blushed red at the memory. “you cheated and i was drunk! that does not count.” the defender huffed.

“when barca won the champions league a few years ago we went to a big party afterwards with all the family and friends. mapi had a few too many shots and tried to lift leila onto her shoulders, she fell over and thought i pushed her and then tried to tackle me-” fresa recounted, sols eyes never leaving her face nodding along with the story.

“-but she missed and tackled a pot plant instead. then she tried again but tackled alexia because she could not see straight, and la tonta can show you the photo of the black eye which followed.” fresa finished, grinning at the melodic sound of her girlfriend's laugh. “that is not how it happened putellas!” mapi scoffed incredulously, shaking her head.

“i was minding my own business just trying to celebrate with the team. then i tried to hug your sister, diablillo stuck her leg out and tripped me over out of nowhere, and sent me flying into a table and i smacked my face on the corner." mapi’s hands flew around the room determined to defend her honour.

“not what happened.” fresa whispered to sol as mapi continued to rant and rave behind her. “has mapi told you about the time she and leila looked after me for the weekend when i was little?” fresa spoke up again as the norwegian shook her head.

“she tied us up and tortured us for two days!” mapis hands flung up into the air as sol grinned watching her neck and ears turn red with frustration. “i told you both i was in charge, you did not listen. you should be embarrassed, letting an eleven year old tie you both up.” fresa shook her head as mapi scoffed. “you tricked us! you pretended to be sad you were left behind and said you wanted to-”

“and done!” the norwegians eyes widened in shock at her girlfriend who interrupted. “what? already?” even mapi was stunned into silencing her stories, both girls wide eyed as fresa nodded.

“sí. i told you, i am the best!” fresa shrugged, unwrapping the pressure band and setting it down beside sol on the bench as she grabbed out a marker and started to fill in the labels on the eight vials of blood she’d taken while her girlfriend was distracted.

“you even got a lollipop because you were such a good girl.” fresa smiled smugly, holding out the jar to her girlfriend and relishing in the way the girl's entire face blushed beet red at her words and she hastily grabbed one.

with the norwegian the tall and tattooed individual she was everyone always assumed the dynamic between the pair would sway in her favour, which was occasionally true (when fresa allowed it), though really fresa enjoyed nothing more than watching how easily she could get the seemingly more dominant girl to crumble, knowing in reality most of the time she was anything but.

“wait, are those all from solstråle?” mapi asked wide eyed as fresa's head whipped around to glare at the defender, sol’s own eyes dropping to the vials of blood. “por qué preguntas eso, estúpido idiota!” fresa hissed, mapi’s mouth opening and closing trying to find an answer.

though their pending argument was cut off by a loud thud, sol having passed out and fallen to the floor collapsed in a heap, mapi dropping to her knees right away to lay her down properly as fresa let out a loud groan, burying her face in her hands.

“por el amor de dios! maría do you know how much extra paperwork i have to do now because she passed out? i had a near perfect patient record until this, and i just came off my probationary period!” fresa groaned dragging her hands down her face with a sigh.

“mi sol? sol? nena? solstråle?” mapi repeated, tapping gently at the norwegian’s cheeks with the back of her hand. “fresa make her wake up, i hate when she does this.” the girl demanded with a scowl.

“well whose fault is it that she passed out maría? you just had to point out the blood didn’t you? idiota!” fresa bit back and rolled her eyes at the spaniard’s panic, knowing well enough by now that this was a normal occurrence for her girlfriend any time she saw blood.

“this happens when she pulls on a hangnail too hard and see’s a drop of red, how are you not used to it by now mapi?” “well fresa i do not like my girlfriend’s hermanita looking lifeless on the ground in front of me, would you like to call ingrid and tell her what has happened?”

at those words fresa paled and dropped to her knees, admittedly quite terrified of her girlfriends older sister despite the fact ingrid had never really given her a reason to be, mumbling a quiet “no thank you.”

with a light touch to her cheek and soft encouraging murmur from the younger girl, sol was blinking her eyes open, a glazed over look finding its way onto her face as she recognized her girlfriend hovering above her.

“oh hi fres.” the norwegian mumbled, smile only growing when the girl above her smirked back. “hola dopey, did you have a nice nap?” the spaniard teased with a wink, tracing sols jaw with her thumb.

“sol! ay dios mio nena, you have to stop doing that.” mapi exhaled dramatically, clutching at her chest as if the poor girl had just attempted some life risking feat and not fainted at the sight of her own blood.

“you should not have pointed out the b-l-o-o-d and she would have been fine!” fresa snapped, though her touch remained gentle as she ran her thumb across sol’s cheek and forehead, tracing across the taller girls worry lines which she knew from past experiences helped to ground her again.

“i can spell.” sol interrupted. “i know you just spelled blood, i’m not stupid.” “of course not mi amor, maria is the only stupid one here. do you want another lollipop?”

“yes please!” sol replied excitedly, effectively distracted, though it meant she sat up much too fast. “uh oh.” the girl mumbled, head spinning at the sudden movement.

sol shut her eyes tightly, reaching out to grab on to the nearest stable object; that just happened to be mapi’s arm. with a sigh, the defender lowered the girl back down onto the ground mumbling something inaudible and encouragingly squeezing her shoulder.

though whatever was said seemed to reach fresa’s ears who smacked the footballer on the shoulder with an unimpressed glare before getting back up to her feet to finish labelling the vials, handing mapi the jar of lollipops as sol blinked groggily.

“i will be back. once she is a little more stable can you try to get her back up on that bench? legally i am not allowed to let her leave until her heart rate is normal and i test her blood sugar levels.” fresa sighed, collecting the vials and addressing mapi who nodded.

stepping out fresa made her way out back where only staff were permitted, bagging up the vials and slapping on the sticker of her girlfriends details, carefully placing it into the storage fridge and hurrying through to reception where carmen still sat typing.

“can you print me off an incident report please?” fresa asked quietly. “what? did you try to have sex with your girlfriend in one of the rooms and get caught?” the older girl teased as the younger girls ears burned red in humiliation. “carmen! cállate.” fresa hissed looking around to make sure no one heard as carmen rolled backward to grab the paperwork from the printer.

“relax chica i am only teasing. is everything okay?” the girl asked, much kinder this time handing fresa the stack of papers who nodded. “sí, está bien. solstrale is not good with blood, she took a look at her vials and passed out.” fresa sighed as carmen smiled.

“and you know to-” “monitor her heart rate, check her blood sugars, keep her till i am happy with the results?” fresa recounted in a somewhat questioning tone as carmen nodded happily. “perfecta.” the older girl praised filling fresa with pride as she nodded.

“oye fres? when you are done, take your break. go get some lunch with tu novia!” carmen informed as the spaniard frowned.

“are you sure? you started before me so you take your hour first?” fresa questioned as carmen waved her off. “oh sí, i just have to check with the manager…” she paused looking around for a second until her eyes fell down to her nametag on her scrubs.

“oh look, that is me! and i say it is fine, now go before i change my mind amiga.”

~

“sol will drive you home?” eli questioned as she parked outside the apartment building where her youngest daughters girlfriend lived. “sí mami, and i will be home before ten. gracias!” the girl leaned across the console to kiss her mamis cheek, unbuckling and stretching over to grab her bag from where it sat on the backseat.

“mija do not forget to tell her about family dinner on friday, i will make her favourite!” eli called after her youngest who frowned. “why do you always cook her favourite? you used to like me more than my girlfriend, eli.” the girl scoffed, paling instantly at the hardened look at the use of her mamis first name.

“lo siento mami, i will tell her.” fresa apologised quickly, waving goodbye again before using the key given to her by her sol and letting herself into the building.

stepping out of the elevator fresa barely knocked twice at the front door before it swung open, a squeal leaving the girls mouth as her feet were no longer touching the floor, her girlfriend tossing her over her shoulder.

“solstråle! put me down tonta, ya mismo!” fresa laughed hitting the taller girl on the back who ignored her, kicking the door closed and carrying her further into the apartment making a beeline for her bedroom.

“hi fresa!” ingrid called out with a small smile from the kitchen where she was making dinner, mapi out walking scout to burn off his extra energy since he’d been home alone all day.

“hola ingrid!” was all the girl could get out before sol made it to her room, dropping her girlfriend very ungracefully onto her bed and closing the door. “door open solstråle!” her sister yelled out in warning as sol groaned but opened it just ajar again.

“mi amor no i need a shower por favor i still have my scrubs on and-” but the catalans protests fell on deaf ears, her girlfriend flopping down on top of her without a care. “you can shower later.” the norwegian decided for her, hand patting her cheek lightly as she wriggled around to get comfortable.

“there is blood on them.” but at that she shot bolt upright, rolling off fresa who grinned and pushed herself off the bed. “hey no there isn’t!” sol scowled looking her girlfriend and her seemingly clean scrubs up and down and crossing her arms, fresa only sticking her tongue out and grabbing her bag off the floor, making a beeline for her girlfriends ensuite.

“do you have to do all of that?” the norwegian groaned, dragging herself into the bathroom as fresa made her way through her post shower skincare routine. “you already look pretty all the time babe, even without all this shit on your face.” the girl mumbled, hugging her shorter girlfriend from behind, hunched over and scowling.

“sí amor, quiero.” fresa chuckled, patting sols hands which rested on her stomach as the girl huffed, unwrapping herself and taking a seat on the lid of the toilet. “i am done anyway cariño, your turn!” fresa cheered as sol threw her head back with a loud groan, her girlfriend moving her legs apart so she could stand between them.

“no i don’t wan-” but before she could even finish her sentence sol grimaced and quickly closed her mouth, moisturiser already being smeared across her face as the older girl deflated with defeat, allowing fresa to do as she wanted.

though when finally fresa was done and sol was ready to pull her into bed, ingrid called that dinner was ready and her girlfriend was already up and headed out, the norwegian groaning and begrudgingly following after her to the table.

“no we don’t want to watch a movie, no we don’t want to play a game, no we don’t want to hang out with you both but great dinner so good so delicious one of your best thank you bye!” sol rambled out quickly once they’d all finished their food and fresa had of course insisted she help clean up, grabbing her girlfriends hand and practically hauling her back toward the bedroom, ignoring mapi’s teasing remarks yelled after them.

“finally!” sol exhaled, ever so carefully closing her door with the softest of clicks, waiting a moment and when ingrid didn’t yell for it to open again she let go of the handle.

“wait what? what are you doing?” sol frowned as fresa was knelt down rummaging through her backpack, not making herself comfortable in the middle of the bed like she normally would be, scout already curled up on the end waiting patiently.

“studying amor, i have a unit due at the end of the week!” fresa frowned as she pulled out a textbook, mumbling something to herself in spanish as she hunted for something else and sol groaned loudly, dramatically back flopping onto her bed. “nooo!”

“you should be studying too! your history paper, did you finish it?” the spaniard asked, standing up with an armful of school supplies and staring her girlfriend down who shook her head. “did you start it?” fresa asked, giving the taller girl a hardened look who scoffed. “yes! don’t give me that look putellas.”

“well then don’t lie to me engen. oh did you buy more lego?” fresa realised as she tried to clear some space on her girlfriends desk, noting a few new additions to the norweigans very large and very proud collection as the girl sprung to her feet eager to show them off. “yes! look i got the jaws set, and another succulent and then mapi finally found the add ons for my-” she fell silent seeing the amused smirk on the younger girls face.

“don’t laugh!” sol scowled, crossing her arms and glaring down at the shorter girl who placed her books down on the desk. “i am not laughing mi amor, it is muy adorable how much you love your little legos.” fresa grinned, hugging her and staring up at the stone faced norwegian, stretching up to peck her lips a few times.

“solstråle!” fresa yelped as once again she was picked up off her feet. “i told you to stop manhandling me!” the girl warned, her accent when she spoke english making her girlfriend grin as once more fresa was dropped on the bed, scout jumping off and making himself comfortable in his own bed in the corner.

“no no bebé i told you i need to-” but fresa sighed as her girlfriend again collapsed on top of her causing her to grunt. “you need to cuddle me.” the girl demanded tiredly, fresa wanting to argue but unable to stop the smile curling into her features at the sudden softer shift in sol when she was needy.

“you are such a big baby.” fresa teased, the two of them moving around for a second until both were comfortable, sol grabbing her girlfriends hand and moving it to tangle in her hair, fresa already knowing exactly what she wanted as the taller girl turned on the tv.

“can i pick? you will be asleep in ten minutes.” fresa chuckled knowingly, sol grumbling something in norwegian and refusing to give the remote up making her girlfriend roll her eyes, fingers messing about with her hair.

“another nature documentary?” “they’re interesting!” “sí, for old people.” “fresa!”

“bien. watch your stupid tree show!” fresa gave in with a sigh, admittedly far too comfortable using her girlfriend as a makeshift weighted blanket to be bothered to argue. “well i did go through a horrible experience today, this mean nurse stabbed me and made me pass out!” sol sighed, laughing as her girlfriend scoffed in offence and tried to push her off to no success at all.

“oh lo siento, poor bebé.” fresa pouted sarcastically and rolled her eyes, her feisty attitude part of what had solstråle so attracted to her in the first place. “mmm i think i need spanish kisses to make it better.” the girl grinned wolfishly, tapping her lips as fresa sighed deeply as if it was a chore, sol pinching her softly and shuffling up the bed a little.

“lucky you are cute sometimes engen.” “only sometimes?” “si, you are also very annoying amor.” “so charming putellas.”

“i love you.” sols features softened as she pushed herself up to hover over the younger girl a little whose hands moved from her hair to cup her face, perfectly manicured fingers tracing her jaw. “i love you.”

“i love you more.” “i love you most.” “i love you more than the most.” “i love you-”

“ay dios mio i have had to hear this all day! you two are disgusting give it a rest!”

[t1red-twilight]

the void

content/warnings: gn!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, ptsd, dissociation, self hatred

wc: 1.1k

masterlist r. r. masterlist

“bob?” you called out. the room you stepped into looked to be a repurposed attic of sorts. it seemed there were toys in the room, this was definitely a childhood memory of some kind.

the void had made you remember things you did not want to, things you had pushed down so deep you couldn’t recall the exact details. throughout it all, you could only think of one thing: where was bob? was he alright? what was happening in new york was definitely not him, that was for sure.

there he was, sitting with crossed legs fiddling with something in his hands. “bob?” you said, quieter this time. his eyes flicked over to you and then back to whatever was in his hands. when he didn’t say anything, you sat beside him. “is-is everything okay?”

he looked forward at the wall in front of him, a far-away look in his eyes. if you looked back down at his hands, you could see them shaking. you weren’t sure if physical contact would help him or not, so you kept your distance. “bob?” you repeated.

bob inhaled, and then you heard it. yelling was coming from beneath you. if you maneuvered yourself you could see between the floorboards, and there he was. a little boy, with the same watery eyes and distant expression as the man in front of you.

when you looked back up at him, you could see his lips moving just so. his lips matched with the shouts from below. “just wait a second,” bob mumbled. “it’ll be over in a second.” his eyelashes fluttered as he relived the moment.

bob’s eyes became glassy for a few moments, but he blinked a few times and then it was gone. he turned to look at you, but he didn’t say anything. you sat in silence, just waiting until the air felt a little less dense.

you looked him over, his shoulders were hunched over, his jaw tense. you tried to meet his gaze, but to no avail. he began to fiddle with his fingers. the more the silence prolonged, the more bob curled in on himself.

“bob?” you repeated once again. your voice was hushed, you were scared of alarming him or making the situation worse. you set your hand palm-up, on the top of your leg. you wiggled your fingers ever so slightly.

tentatively, bob set his hand in your own. his hands were shaking almost violently. you laced your fingers together with his, and squeezed his hand a little tighter. “you don’t have to feel bad,” he started, his voice wavering. “this is-it’s, uh-“ he stammered.

bob straightened his spine and a faux smile grew on his face, one that didn’t reach his eyes. that faraway look was still there, almost as if his consciousness had retreated back into his body.

you stroked your thumb against the back of his hand and squeezed it another time. the small point of contact grounded you in the moment; all you could focus on was him.

bob looked up at you, his brow pinched and bottom lip quivering. “i’m sorry, i-“ he gulped. “you don’t want to see this, i-“

you raised your other hand and placed it on his cheek, effectively cutting him off “hey,” you swiped at his cheekbone. “no, don’t apologize. i’m fine, you don’t have to worry about me.”

bob clenched his eyes shut as a tear crawled its way out of his eye. his teeth bit down in his bottom lip rather harshly and his breathing became ragged. your thumb wiped the tear away and you scooted closer to him. “cry, if you want. this is a no-judgement zone.” bob opened his eyes and a sob wracked through his body.

he leaned into your touch. his shoulders shook as he cried. in this moment you saw a side of him that you hadn’t seen much of previously; right now he just looked like a scared child who hadn’t been provided safety.

“do you want a hug?” you said quietly. “if you don’t, that’s fine too.” you attempted a comforting smile but you were unsure if that was the effect it was giving.

bob nodded against your palm. you moved your position as to make it more comfortable for yourself, and you let go of his hand and his face. the loss of contact wasn’t for long, because as soon as you were apart, he was diving back into you.

his head tucked into your shoulder and his arms encircled you as much as they could. he pulled himself closer to you, and you could feel his shoulders beginning to shake again.

one of your hands trailed up to his neck and ran though the hair there, and the other sat on his mid-back. you set your cheek against the top of his head. every couple of seconds he would cry a little harder and pull you a little closer, but you didn’t dare let go. you couldn’t find it in yourself to want to let go, even if you could.

“i thought that this would make me better, but it just made me worse.” his voice shook and broke as he spoke. “you should’ve left me behind. you should’ve just left, if i wasn’t here, then-“

you pulled away slightly, just so you could look at him. “what? no. why would we have ever left you? despite everything you think about, you still deserve a shot. that’s not you out there. why would you say that?” bob didn’t respond. your hand on his neck began carding through his hair again.

he opened his mouth to speak and closed it. his shoulders went up in a shrugging motion and he shook his head. “bob, you can’t deal with this on your own. you don’t have to if you don’t want to, i’m here if you want me to be.” bob had closed his eyes tightly again, his face screwing up in a painful expression.

“i hate remembering everything. i forget so much, but i never can seem to forget this. i can never forget the bad things.” he topped his head forward and one of his palms rubbed against his eye socket.

“and then it feels like you’re neck-deep in all the bad. like you’re drowning and don’t know how to swim,” you weren’t good at this, at comforting people. you just hoped that you didn’t sound condescending or anything like that. but, you did have some experience with what he was talking about. “brains have a funny way of reminding us about everything that sucks, huh?”

a small smile found its way to his lips. bob inhaled for a few seconds and exhaled for a few. when he opened his eyes, this time it looked like he was actually in front of you for the first time. “thank you for not leaving me,” he whispered hoarsely.

you nodded before you spoke. “of course. i don’t leave important people behind.”

[pastryfication]

hi! If you are still taking requests would you please write a Oscar x reader where the reader starts being besties with Hattie and Oscar is half panicking bc they are now both making fun of him bc Hattie tells the reader so many embarrassing moments in his life

MONACO MAYHEM, oscar piastri

oscar piastri x fem!reader

becoming best friends with hattie piastri was perhaps one of the best things that ever happened to you.

it wasn’t something you had planned, but it happened almost instantly and so naturally that it felt like you were actually soulmates.

oscar had just invited you to meet his family during a visit to australia, and you were incredibly nervous at first—meeting the family of your boyfriend felt like a big deal!

but hattie had made everything easy. as soon as you two started chatting, you clicked. it wasn’t long before you were in deep conversation, laughing at her endless stories, many of which revolved around oscar’s childhood blunders. by the end of the trip, you’d exchanged numbers, and from then on, your texts became a daily thing. hattie’s constant updates were often filled with the most embarrassing and ridiculous moments of oscar’s life, which you gleefully stored in your memory bank.

oscar, however, wasn’t exactly thrilled with this new friendship—especially when he became the main subject of your conversations. now that you and hattie had teamed up, he was completely outnumbered.

one morning, when you were curled up on the couch in the monaco apartment you shared with oscar, lazily scrolling through your phone, you received yet another message from hattie.

hattie: did i ever tell you about the time oscar made a homemade 'racing simulator' out of a lawn chair and bicycle handles? he claimed he was training for the future . . . except he was like 5.

you burst out laughing, barely able to contain yourself. oscar, who was sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, sorting through some papers, looked up in alarm.

“what happened?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at you. his voice was tinged with that familiar suspicion—he knew that laugh too well by now.

you tried to bite back a grin, quickly locking your phone screen. “nothing. just . . . hattie being hattie, you know.”

“which means she’s telling you more stories about me,” oscar muttered, already dreading whatever had made you laugh. “what is it this time? my high school haircut? the time i crashed my bike in front of the neighbors?”

you shook your head, barely able to keep your laughter in. “no, not quite. it’s . . . something about a ‘homemade racing simulator’. a lawn chair? bicycle handles?”

oscar’s face immediately flushed a cute pink. “oh god, not that story.”

you grinned, enjoying his embarrassment way more than you should have. “i mean, it sounds pretty impressive. five-year-old oscar was ahead of his time, huh?”

he buried his face in his hands, groaning. “i’m going to kill hattie.”

“oh, come on! it’s cute,” you teased, scooting over to sit beside him. “i love hearing about little oscar and his racing dreams.”

“you love hearing about my embarrassing moments,” he corrected, glancing at you with narrowed eyes.

“true,” you admitted, leaning over to kiss his cheek softly. “but it’s all in good fun. besides, it just proves that you’ve always been destined for racing greatness—even if you started off with bicycle handles and a lawn chair.” you stifle a giggle by burrowing your face in his shoulder.

oscar sighed, shaking his head. “remind me again why i introduced you to my sisters?”

“because you love me,” you said sweetly, wrapping your arms around him from behind. “and because you secretly love how well i get along with hattie.”

“yeah, but i didn’t expect you two to team up against me,” he muttered, resting his head back against your shoulder.

“we’re not against you,” you teased, kissing the top of his head. “we’re just . . . having a little fun.”

oscar rolled his eyes, trying to keep his irritated demeanour, but the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed him. “yeah, sure. that’s what it is.”

just then, your phone buzzed again. another message from hattie.

hattie: hey, so i’ve been thinking . . . how about me, edie and mae come visit you guys in monaco next month? i’ve been dying to see what oscar’s life is like over there.

you grinned, already excited at the idea of oscar’s sisters coming to visit. hattie had mentioned visiting monaco before, but this was the first time she’d included edie and mae in the plan. you quickly typed a response.

you: yes! please come! we’ll be thrilled to have you!!

oscar noticed the gleam in your eye and immediately sat up. “what’s going on now?”

you turned to him, trying to keep your expression innocent. “oh, just hattie asking if she, edie and mae can come visit next month.”

his eyes widened in what could only be described as mild panic. “all three of them? here? in monaco?”

“yep,” you said, stifling a laugh. “she wants to see where you live and get the full experience. plus, you’ll get to be the perfect tour guide.”

oscar groaned, leaning back against the couch dramatically. “so i’m going to have my girlfriend and my three sisters all in one place, ganging up on me?”

“sounds like a good time to me,” you said cheerfully, nudging him. “don’t act like you’re not excited.”

“i’m not excited,” oscar grumbled, though you could see the slight smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “this is going to be a disaster.”

the weeks leading up to his sisters’ visit flew by, and before you knew it, the monaco apartment was buzzing with excitement. oscar, despite his initial grumbling, was secretly thrilled to have his sisters visit—though he wouldn’t admit it outright.

“do you think they’ll like it here?” oscar asked nervously as he placed snacks on the kitchen counter. “i mean, it’s . . . different from home.”

“are you kidding?” you replied, giving him a reassuring smile. “they’re going to love it! monaco’s gorgeous, and they get to spend time with their favorite brother.”

“yeah, but they’re mostly here to spend time with you,” he said, half-joking, half-serious.

“i mean, hattie did say she’s excited to see me,” you teased, wrapping your arms around him from behind. “but you’re not so bad either.”

oscar gave you a playful look, shaking his head. “great. my girlfriend and my sisters, united in their mission to embarrass me.”

just as you were about to respond, the doorbell rang, and oscar stiffened. “they’re here,” he muttered, as if preparing himself for battle.

you laughed, giving him a gentle nudge. “go on, open the door.”

oscar opened the door, and in an instant, the apartment was filled with the sound of his sisters’ excited voices. hattie was the first through the door, pulling oscar into a tight hug before spotting you, rushing over to give you a big hug as well. “it’s so good to finally be here! i’ve been dying to see this place.”

“it’s amazing!” edie chimed in as she stepped inside, looking around in awe. “oscar, you didn’t tell us you were living in this kind of fancy.”

mae followed close behind, wide-eyed and already snapping photos on her phone. “this is insane. i can’t believe we’re in monaco!”

oscar stood there, slightly flustered by the sudden burst of energy, but he managed a small smile. “yeah, it’s . . . different from home, huh?”

“just a bit,” hattie said with a smirk. “you’re really living the high life now, oscar.”

“okay, okay, let’s not make a big deal out of it,” oscar muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

but over the next few days, his sisters made sure to make a big deal out of everything. the apartment was filled with laughter and playful teasing, and oscar—despite his constant groaning—was clearly enjoying having his family around.

“remember when oscar tried to teach himself how to juggle and ended up with a black eye?” edie brought up one afternoon, and you nearly spat out your drink from laughing so hard.

“oh, i’d forgotten about that!” hattie chimed in, leaning forward eagerly. “he thought he was so cool, but then bam! right in the face.”

“seriously?” you said between giggles, glancing over at oscar, who was sitting on the couch with his face buried in his hands.

“it wasn’t that bad,” oscar mumbled, though you could tell he was smiling beneath his hands.

“it was pretty bad,” mae teased, snapping a quick photo of oscar with his head down.

“i’m never going to survive this,” oscar muttered, though the warmth in his voice betrayed him. he really did enjoy having his sisters around. and the fact that you all got along so well made it even better.

in that moment, his life actually felt pretty close to perfect.

[clockwayswrites]

Uncle John Part 2

masterpost

Even though Bruce knew what he was opening the door to, it was still almost startling to see John Constantine shielding two teenagers on the other side. The oldest was a redhead, though Bruce could only tell that from the fierce eyebrows. The hair of both teens had been shaved so close to the scalp that it was basically nonexistent. From what little Bruce could see of the second, behind the protective forms of John and the red head, the second teen’s head was also bandaged from what little Bruce could see under the hood of the thick sweater.

Whatever they had been through was clearly no small matter.

“Who’s all here?” John asked as he entered, looking around the foyer as he slunk into the room.

The kids stayed close to his back.

“Just Alfred and Tim. Alfred is in the kitchen and Tim is up in his room, though he was excited to know that there would be other teens visiting,” Bruce said, keeping his personage open and calm.

Excited was at least an honest enough word for Tim’s curiosity that Bruce had tone his bet to tamper. It didn’t seem the time to pry and Bruce was sure to learn far more as he set up the new identities.

John’s frown said he knew exactly what excited meant for Tim.

“He can help us instead if you’d rather,” Bruce offered to keep the peace, “but I thought that the kids might enough just playing some video games and enjoying Alfred’s snacks while we worked.”

“Stop that,” John said.

“Stop what?” Bruce said, blinking guilelessly.”

“Making fuck’n sense.”

The kid in the hood muffled a laugh into the thick fabric. The sound made Bruce smile. It wasn’t so very bad if they could still laugh. It meant that there was still hope.

“Tim is my current foster,” Bruce said, as that was the easiest way to explain things. “I would guess he’s around your ages. And I’m Bruce, a friend of John’s.”

John snorted. “He comes off as a rich playboy, but he’s one of the good ones, if you’ll believe that.”

“Thanks for that rousing endorsement,” Bruce said dryly.

John just grinned back, his smile a little more teeth than normal.

“I’m Danny,” the one in the hood said, still mostly hidden behind the redhead. The voice was scratchy, like it have been overused recently. The fingers that clung to the too large flannel shirt the redhead wore were covered in bandages. “This is my sister Jazz.”

Jazz regarded him with frozen blue eyes. “If you do anything to hurt him, I will find some way to hurt you worse.”

“That’s fair,” Bruce said calmly. “All I want to do is what John asked me to: which is to make you new identities so that you will be safe. Well, I would also hope that you both could relax some and enjoy some of Alfred’s cooking. His cookies especially are something amazing.”

Jazz searched his gaze for a moment longer before almost reluctantly nodding.

“Would you be alright with Tim joining you two?” Bruce asked.

Jazz glanced back at Danny before nodding again.

“Let me show you to the media room then,” Bruce said and started leading the group that way. He kept up idle chatter about some of the games he knew that Tim had been playing just to fill the silence and make everything seem less threatening.

It was still hard to speak of Tim like a son, but easier than it had been when Bruce had been the very broken and irrational man Tim had first come to. If Gotham’s spirit hadn’t thrown a fit, if Constantine hadn’t gotten involved… Bruce hated to think how things might have continued. Bruce hated to think what sort of mentor and guardian he might have been to the boy.

It was hard, but it was better like this.

Bruce opened the door to the media room with a smile. “Make yourself a home. I’ll send Tim down and either he’ll bring snacks with him or Alfred, a demure British man who isn’t a serous as he seems, will bring them in.”

“Right, thanks,” Jazz said and pulled her brother inside with her. She closed the door on them.

Bruce looked at Constantine who rubbed calloused hands over his face.

“Yeah, mate, it’s… it’s rough.”

Bruce reached out and clasped his shoulder in commiseration.

---

AN: This was still stuck in my head so have some more! I'm thinking end game Danny/Jason, because it's me, and Jazz/Steph because Steph deserves to be a disaster bi with her own fierce, magic user redhead.

Obvious canon divergence due to the added ghostliness.

[alisonsfics]

too good to me

pairing: carmen berzatto x reader

summary: after weeks of stress and being on edge, carmy blows up and yells at marcus, but carmy holds such a special place in your heart that you go to his apartment afterward to see how he’s doing

word count: 3.2k

warnings: swearing, arguing, general angst and then fluff

You all knew that something had been on Carmy’s mind. The past few weeks, he’d been more than just anxious. He was really putting his perfectionist tendencies to the extreme. It had been three weeks since officially opening The Bear.

Carmy knew that the first few weeks were crucial to a new business, especially one as volatile as a new-age restaurant. He’d been stressed, which was nothing new for him. But, it was more extreme. He had gotten into an hour-long screaming match with Richie about what specific angle the hostess stand should be pointed.

Everyone was trying to keep Carmy calm, but it had to be done carefully. If he picked up on a tone that was too sympathetic, he’d yell “I’m fine,” and storm off.

With everyone walking on eggshells around him, the tickets for the orders got a little jumbled and in a backwards order.

“Somebody better fucking fix this.” Carmy said, running his hand through his hair. You’d seen him do that move a hundred times, and it usually meant that everything was getting overwhelming. “It’s alright, Carmy. I can handle this. Just go take a quick break outside for me, please?” You asked him.

You were Carmy’s weak spot.

He’d always had a special place in his heart for you. He was wrapped around your finger. If anyone else had told him to take a break, he would have told them to fuck off.

Carmy walked around the corner, where Marcus walked up to him with a new pastry in hand. “Hey, chef. I was thinking we could add a new pastry to the menu for that special event next week?” Marcus asked. It was a perfectly innocent question, especially since Marcus didn’t have any urgent work to be done. In that moment, Marcus was just lacking in reading the room.

“Tonight’s service is a disaster, and you’re wasting your fucking time doing this?” Carmy yelled, smacking the dish out of Marcus’ hand.

That was too far. Farther than Carmy had ever pushed it.

You inserted yourself between the two men. “Marcus, you okay?” You asked him. He nodded his head, but looked down at a small cut on the back of his hand. You placed your hand on his forearm. “Go get that cut washed, and then help Sydney sort out those tickets please.” You said, remaining calm.

“Yes, chef,” Marcus said, walking towards the sink.

Carmy was frozen in place, like even he couldn’t believe what he’d just done. “You,” you started to say, turning around to face Carmy.

“I know,” he said, softly.

“Go home, Berzatto. You need to cool off.” You said, trying to be firm but also gentle. Carmy huffed and ran his hand through his hair again. “But I just…one more—” he started to say.

“Home, Carmen.” You repeated, firmer this time. You called him many things: Carmy, Carm, Bear, and the occasional pet name, but never Carmen.

He walked away, but you heard him slam his hand against the wall as he left.

Still rattled from the whole encounter, you tried to get back on your game. “Syd, you’ve got this,” you encouraged your friend, as she directed the kitchen. The rest of the service was a little bumpy as all of you were still a little distracted.

At the end of the service, you were all silently cleaning up your stations. Normally at this point in the night, you were all catching up and joking around with each other. But instead, you all were recalling the night’s events in your heads.

You lightly knocked on the door of the office, where Sugar was sitting and looking through some forms. “Hey, Nat. You mind if I head out a little early? Richie said he’d clean up my station. I was gonna go check on Carmy and see if he’s alright. I’ve been really worried about him.” You told her.

“Yeah yeah, go for it. I think he’ll want to see you. And it’ll be good for him to talk to someone, and you’re the only one he really talks to.” Sugar told you, pulling you in for a quick hug before you left. She hesitated. “Let me know how he is…I’m worried about him,” she told you, softly.

“I will, I promise.” You said, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. You turned to leave the office. “Carm’s lucky to have you,” she told you as you walked away. You turned backwards as you kept walking. “The feelings mutual,” you added.

You walked up to Carmy’s apartment and knocked on the door. “Carmy, it’s me, please let me in,” you said.

You heard silence on the other side of the door. You fished your spare key out of your pocket and slid it into the lock. You turned the key slowly and let yourself into his apartment.

You walked into his dark apartment. You saw Carmy’s silhouette as he sat on the couch, staring out the window.

“I gave you that key for emergencies.” He said, coldly. You flipped on the light switch, bringing some light into the dark apartment. “I think what I saw earlier calls for a little intervention, don’t you?” You asked. Carmy sat in silence, continuing to stare out the window. You walked around to the front of the couch so you could face him.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He said, still refusing to look at you. Carmy felt guilty about what he’d done. He’d never yelled at you before, and he was ashamed that you had to see him scream like that. Carmy cared more about your opinion than he did about anyone else’s.

You walked towards Carmy, only stopping inches in front of him. “When was the last time you ate?” You asked, blatantly. He leaned back against the couch, trying to add some more distance between you both. He shrugged, genuinely not knowing the answer to your question.

You dug into your work bag and pulled out a takeout box. You stopped by Carmy’s favorite burger restaurant in Chicago to grab him some food. You knew Carmy would sometimes forget to eat when he was feeling anxious. “Eat it,” you told him, handing the box over to him.

He reluctantly opened the box and started eating. You set your work bag on the ground and sat down on the chair that faced the couch.

Carmy shifted nervously in his seat as your gaze was set on him. He was unnerved that you weren’t talking about what happened at the restaurant.

Carmy could normally read you like the back of his hand, but something about your current expression was throwing him off. He couldn’t tell if you were going to scream at him or not.

“Are you here to yell at me like everybody else? I already know I screwed up. I shouldn’t have yelled at Marcus, and I shouldn’t have argued when you told me to leave.” He told you, hoping he could apologize and avoid you yelling at him.

“You know that I’m not here to yell at you. You really fucked up, but Marcus knows that you were just stressed. I’m here to make sure you’re doing okay because I’ve never seen you blow up like that” You said, finally showing your cards. Carmy frowned, looking guilty.

“God, you’re too good to me. I acted like a piece of shit today, and you’re still trying to make sure I’m okay.” He said, still amazed by the love you had for him. He was looking at you like you were his whole world.

He set down the takeout box and used his hand to call you over to him. You stood up and walked towards him, and he patted the seat next to him.

You joined him on the couch. You both were sitting so close together that you were practically in his lap. He turned his body so he could face you.

He let his hand rest on your thigh, feeling more grateful for you than he ever had. You let your fingers caress his bicep, “you deserve to be okay. I want you to be okay,” you said, softly.

You studied his face. You noticed the small bags that had formed under his eyes. You wondered when the last time he’d actually gotten a good night’s sleep was.

You softly brushed his hair out of his face. When he was stressed, Carmy liked to pull on a certain strand of hair right in the front. You knew him like the back of your hand. You noticed all of his quirks; quirks that most people never picked up on.

Carmy watched as you gently tried to soothe him. He was sure you could see the adoration in his eyes.

“I hope you know how perfect you are. You always know exactly what to say.” He said, smiling at you. He pulled your hand away from his hair and interlaced your fingers. He’d wanted to kiss the back of your hand, but couldn’t push himself to do it.

“Do you wanna talk about why you’ve been so stressed recently?” You asked. You were treading lightly, but you wanted to understand what was making him so anxious. You hated seeing him push everyone away, and you wanted to help in any way you could.

He shrugged. “It’s just the restaurant,” he said, not knowing how else to explain it.

“The restaurant is doing amazing though, Carmy. You have no need to stress about that. You’ve been doing such a great job.” You told him, sincerely.

You watched him get a little more nervous. He was looking down at his lap, avoiding meeting your gaze. You ran your thumb over the back of his hand, trying to silently reassure him.

“You can tell me anything, Carm,” you said, softly.

“You just mean so much to me,” he started to explain. You were a little confused as to where he was going with this conversation. The room was silent as Carmy gathered his thoughts.

“Everything at the restaurant has been going so well. Every time my life has ever gone well, something terrible has happened next. I feel like I’m just waiting for everything to…I don’t know, crumble? Losing the restaurant would be terrible, but losing you and the rest of the team would be devastating. You guys are my family.” He told you, his voice cracking with emotion.

Tears threatened to spill from his eyes. You quickly pulled him into you arms, giving him the tightest hug you could. He clutched onto you like he was scared you’d disappear if he let you go.

“You aren’t going to lose anybody,” you said, holding back tears just from watching how emotional Carmy was.

The soft leather scent of Carmy’s cologne occupied your thoughts as you held him close. You both stayed attached like that for a few minutes. The room was silent, but a comfortable silent.

When you both finally pulled apart, Carmy dried the tears off his cheeks. “Nothing bad is going to happen with the restaurant. We’re all family, and that doesn’t go away based on what happens with the restaurant. You will never lose me, or any of us.” You promised him.

You earned a small chuckle from Carmy when you held your pinky up to him. “You won’t lose me either,” he said, dutifully going through with your pinky promise.

You both stared into each other’s eyes, unsure what to say next. The tension in the air nearly made it hard to breathe.

“I should probably get going and let you have the rest of your evening. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said, standing up from the couch.

You had never felt so awkward around Carmy. Just the task of walking to the front door felt like a giant opportunity to embarrass yourself. Carmy also quickly jumped up from the couch, feeling equally self-conscious.

His hand lightly grazed your back as he led you back to the front door. “Thank you for coming over and talking to me. You really helped calm me down.” He said, sincerely. You smiled and nodded your head at him.

“Make sure to call me if you ever need to talk about anything. I promise that I’ll always be here to listen,” you assured him.

The tension returned.

You both chose to avoid it.

“Well, goodnight,” you both quickly said, at the same time. You rushed out the door, and Carmy closed it behind you.

The door clicked into place and seemingly broke you both out of your trance.

You both realized you had missed the perfect opportunity. The perfect opportunity to finally confess those feelings that had been weighing you down.

You lowered your head, almost shamefully, and started walking down the hallway.

Carmy leaned his head against the closed door, wondering how he could have missed it. The girl of his dreams was walking down the hallway away from his apartment, away from him.

He started to walk towards his bedroom when he suddenly thought “fuck it,” and turned around.

At the same time in the hallway, you had the same thought.

Your heart beating in your ears, you turned on your heel and headed back towards Carmy’s apartment.

Carmy started walking back towards the front door. Before he could reach the door, he watched the knob spin and the door fling open.

You were back and standing in front of him.

Realizing you both had the same idea, Carmy quickly closed the gap between the two of you. His strong tattooed hands cupped your cheeks as he finally kissed you. You kissed him back immediately, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist.

He moved one of his hands away from you, but just a second, so he could quickly close the front door behind you.

He pushed you against the back of the door. The back of your head bumped against the door causing you to grin against the kiss. “Oh, shit, sorry. You okay?” he asked, cupping the back of your head. You quickly nodded your head. “I’m fine, I promise.” You said, grabbing his collar and pulling him back to kiss you.

He smirked against your lips at your eagerness to not break the kiss for even a second. He held onto your waist and pinned you against the door, while you wrapped your arms around his neck and toyed with his hair.

His lips felt perfect against yours. The kiss was somehow everything you’d dreamed of but completely unexpected.

You shifted your weight against him, gently nudging him away from the door. Carmy picked up on what you were doing. You noticed his signature smirk as he guided you towards the couch.

You fell back onto the couch, pulling Carmy down on top of you. All his weight landed on you, causing you to wince. “Sorry, that more violent than it was supposed to be.” He said, sheepishly. He quickly shifted his weight, so he was holding himself above you.

You both were giggly as these little mishaps continued to happen. It suited your relationship. You both had always been able to joke with each other, especially because of your matching sense of humor. It made sense that when you both finally got together that Carmy would accidentally bump your head against the door. But it didn’t make things awkward. You both were so comfortable just giggling with each other.

“Get back here, Berzatto,” you said, connecting your lips again. He quickly obliged. While Carmy loved laughing with you, he had been waiting years to kiss you and wasn’t going to waste the opportunity.

“You look so fuckin’ pretty,” he mumbled as he kissed you. You quickly slipped his tshirt over his head and tossed it to the side.

Then, you both heard a strange muffled sound. You pulled out of the kiss and gave Carmy a concerned look. It sounded like someone was in the apartment.

Your face completely changed when you realized what it was. “Carmy, that’s your phone. You butt dialed someone,” you whispered. His eyes also grew wide. He quickly grabbed his phone out of his pocket, hoping he could hang up and not say anything.

Once his phone was in his hand, he realized it was a FaceTime call and he was now face-to-face with his sister.

“Oh, shit. Sugar?” He said, the shock clear on his face. You immediately held your hand over your mouth, trying to remain completely silent.

“Hey, uh yeah. You called me? Are you okay?” She asked, confused by the whole situation.

“Oh, I must’ve done it on accident, sorry. Listen, I’m really sorry about yelling tonight. I’m gonna come in tomorrow and apologize to everyone though.” He said, sincerely. You were finding it so hard to not giggle. He was on the phone with Sugar while lying directly on top of you, and you just had to stay silent.

“It’s okay, Carm. Everyone knows you’ve been going through a lot. Y/N was going to head over to your apartment. Did you talk to her?” Natalie asked, genuinely invested.

Carmy quickly nodded his head. “Yeah, she came by earlier and we talked. I’m doing a lot better. Yeah, she’s umm—” Carmy stalled as he tried to come up with a lie.

Natalie picked up on his hesitation immediately. “Oh shit. Is she— are you two— wait is she there now?” She asked, putting it all together. You froze, trying to anticipate Carmy’s next move.

He quickly sat up on the couch before pulling you into his lap. “Hi, Nat,” you said, smiling at the camera and bracing for her reaction. You both watched her jaw drop.

“Did my two favorite people finally confess their love for each other? Oh, you guys,” she awed, being able to read you both just from the way you both were blushing.

Carmy buried his face in your neck. He knew how long Natalie had been rooting for this to happen, and he was having a hard time controlling how red his face was.

“You’re good for him. I’m really happy for you guys,” she said to you. You smiled in return and thanked her.

“Well, I’ll let you both get back to it.” She said, winking at you both and ending the call.

“So, how long before everybody knows?” He asked you. You just laughed in response, knowing it wouldn’t be long.

“I think she’s already sent an all-caps text to Sydney and Richie, and the rest of them will know before we go into work tomorrow.” You told him, honestly.

“We could just stay here tomorrow. We don’t really need to go in, right?” He said, pressing kisses to your cheek.

“Would that be the responsible thing to do?” You teased him. He chuckled and pecked your lips. “You know I would spend every second with you, whether it was responsible or not.” He told you.

You giggled, stopping him from kissing you. “Awww we’re only fifteen minutes in and I’m already your biggest weakness? You big softie,” You continued to joke around with him.

“You’ve always been my weakness, sweetheart,” he said, quickly picking up and carrying you to his bedroom.

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Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for all my imagines or for a specific character/fandom!!

[arbitrarykiwi]

BfNam gyu x femreader.

Where nam gyu is a twich streamer with Lots of viewers (mainly girls) and reader gets a bit jealous about it.

Now Streaming...

I literally had this sitting unfinished in my WIPS for months. It was on the shorter side so I wanted to get it finished up and get it out :D I got the request and I immediately just SAW it. Like Nam-Gyu as a streamer got me feeling things......I hope you enjoy it anon <3

I’m also lowkey still nervous to get back to posting 😭 like I feel so rusty so puhleasseee forgive me if this isn’t up to my normal standards 😩🙌

Warnings: none, sfw, fluff

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!!!! I fucking told you guys if I went that way I’d die!!”

Nam-gyu’s voice rang out through the dimly lit bedroom, laughing along with the flood of comments that roll in on his screen commentating on his untimely death in the game.

His loud yells, laughs, and screams coming from the desk in his room wouldn’t bother you- you were used to it.

Every Tuesday, Friday, and Saturday like clockwork your boyfriend would stream. Nam-gyu loved doing it, he loved that people enjoyed watching him play video games! People loved watching him do what he loved!

You, as a doting girlfriend always would set up camp in his bedroom. Laid out on his bed, snuggled under the covers with your volume on your phone muted. You didn’t need the audio when Nam-Gyu was approximately 10 feet away from you. Sure, there was a slight lag between the words and the visual of the stream but you never complained.

But as normal, he streams late. And he streams in long successions. You try to watch all of it, support him through the entire stream, donating some of your own money to him every now and again- however, his bed’s always so comfy, his voice is a rough gravely tone that lulls you to sleep effortlessly, and it’s always so, so late - you can’t help but to shut your eyes and doze off sometimes.

“Oh?? Yeah? You dig the hair?”

He’s laughing bashfully, a playful lilt to his voice. It’s one that makes your eyes shoot open and rush to focus in on whatever comment he just responded to.

You see his camera in the corner of the stream, he’s paused the game, leaned back in the chair with his arms behind his head - smirk on his face as he plays with the half-up half-down style that pulled his bangs out of his face in a small ponytail.

The style you did for him before he went on stream.

“Hah, thanks. It’s gotten pretty long so I needed it pulled back.” Nam-Gyu responds to the chat, eyes watching the new messages rush in. You can only do the same from the spot in the bed.

‘Ughhhhh he looks so good!!!’

‘It’s the hair pulled back…makes him look soo FINE!!’

‘I knew he was going to die there guys omg’

‘Yall see that new tattoo on his bicep?! I wanna sink my teeth into it! Woof!!!!!’

Your eyes narrow at the chat, sure you were used to fangirls flirting with him in chat, you’ve seen far too many edits of your own boyfriend on social media with even more people thirsting over him - you knew he was hot. You knew he was going to get comments like those.

You were well secure in your relationship with Nam-Gyu. He gave you no reason at all to be worried or have any sort of doubts in his love for you. And normally these things wouldn’t get to you.

Maybe it was because it’s been happening for so long now? He just made a year on the streaming site he uses a month ago. It could be that you’ve just put up with it so long.

Or maybe it was because he didn’t outright say that his girlfriend did his hair for him. You couldn’t be mad at him for that though. When he started getting a big viewing while streaming he asked you if you wanted to be public, wanted to be brought into the limelight he was now being thrown into. At the time, you told him no. The thought didn’t even appeal to you! You wanted his channel to be focused on him, you didn’t want his relationship with you to overthrow anything he was working on while streaming, you didn’t want the chat to only be filled with comments of the relationship when they should focus on Nam-gyu and his efforts in streaming.

You also valued your privacy. You knew how if a big streamer came out saying they’re in a relationship- that significant other is bound to get followed by thousands of people who would have never found their account in the first place.

But now…you’re starting to think you’ve changed your mind.

You huff, turning over in the bed and sinking into the plush comforter as you narrow your eyes on the chat, watching the chat go from talking about the gameplay and his ‘poor gaming skills’ to being flooded with what looked to be fan girls gushing over him.

Nam-gyu hears the bed creak and the blankets rustle, his head turning to the side to look at you. He smiles, you know it’s directly at you, for you- it makes your heart melt. You try to adjust your furrowed brows and small frown before he notices, it obviously fails when his furrowed brows mirror yours, his dark eyes focusing in even more on you in a silent question of ‘are you okay?’

You smile, almost beaming and nod- giving him a thumbs up. It seems your over enthusiasm just makes him more suspicious. Nam-gyu chuckles a bit to himself and gives you a look of ‘I know you’re lying.’ Before turning back to the camera and the chat.

“I just got it done! It’s sick as fuck right!” Nam-Gyu responds to the chat, falling back into a rhythm instantly. You watch on your phone as he’s scooting back to show off the new tattoo on his bicep.

He looks so fucking good- you can’t even blame the chat for thirsting over him.

Arm flexed as his long fingers trace over the new lines of the tattoo. The way his hair is pulled up and how he’s wearing his glasses low on the bridge of his nose only add to it.

“It goes up my shoulder and across-“

Your boyfriend’s voice is background noise at this point as you watch even more of the comments you know decided you did mind, flood into the chat box sat on the right side of his stream lay out.

‘Lord I know those fingers can reach crazzzyy places’

‘Let me take you out. I’ll literally be your sugar mommy ohmylawddddd’

‘The glasses STAY ON’

‘I cannot believe he’s single holy shit.’

You sit up suddenly, eyes narrowing at the screen as if you could see the person who left the comment. Maybe the harder you glare at the letters on your phone the more likely that random chatter could feel your wrath.

You watch as the chat catches on to the one users comment.

‘He’s single?! No way!?’

‘Move guys!!! My turn!!’

‘Girlfriend applications starting when?!’

To make it all worse it seems Nam-Gyu is noticing every chat but those ones! Maybe that’s a good thing, that he’s not edging on these fangirls. But he’s not correcting them and that’s what makes you seethe with a petty rage you hated that you were developing.

“You know I’ve been thinking about playing that game! Let me see if I can download it. You cool with that chat?” Nam-Gyu says, responding to a random comment that was actually about video games, one requesting him to play a game. The comment above and the many ones that rolled in after were filled with fangirls begging for a chance at him.

It’s childish. It’s so petty! You know you shouldn’t feel any type of way towards some random people behind the screen that would have no chance at getting with Nam-Gyu ever. But you do. You do feel it. Every comment that rolls in making some reference to how there’s no way that he could be single makes you hate that you ever made the decision to keep your privacy.

You’re so engrossed in watching your phone, sat up ridged and chest heaving as you squint at the bright screen, that you don’t realize Nam-gyu was watching you. You don’t see how he catches your scowl.

Nam-gyu knows you’re watching the stream. He knows that the only thing that could anger you at the moment in time would be the chat. His games paused and he hasn’t done anything outlandish.

Then he finally sees the comments he’s missed. The ones boldly claiming he’s single, the mass of fangirls thirsting over him and saying how neglected he’s been since hes single.

He falters. Staring dumbfoundedly at the chat. Sure he’s gotten fangirls commenting on his looks here and there but with the new ‘knowledge’ of him being single- oh boy, it ramped up.

“W-what where did you guys even get that fucking info? You guys just believe anything ya see!?” Nam-Gyu says reading the chat, leaning forward to try and catch every new one that blips into existence on his screen. He’s laughing, genuinely finding it funny how dumb people seemed to be. Just taking someone’s word and running with it.

“You guys are fuckin’ crazy. Some of you need to be spayed, my god.” He says chuckling, genuinely entertained by the way people would say anything behind a screen.

But he doesn’t correct them.

Nam-Gyu keeps to his word of the past and keeps you private. Maybe anyone with half a brain cell would have caught on to his words- realize that what he meant was he wasn’t single. It’s what you two agreed on, private not secret. He also doesn’t know why people cared so much, he’s a gaming channel why the fuck should his personal relationships matter when he’s trying to play a cheap horror game?!

You taste blood.

Gasping softly to yourself, you touch your bottom lip- the one you’ve been gnawing on anxiously as you watch the chat. You grumble to yourself, licking the blood off your lip.

Nam-gyu, despite having his gaming headphones on, hears the disturbance from your area. He looks over, seeing your state. His breath catches in his throat, he hates seeing you like this. He sees your thumbs hovering over your phone, keyboard open as if you’re debating on typing something.

Your boyfriend knows you too well. Way too well. He can see the gears turning in your head, practically watching the words pop up in your brain as you conjure up some wild thing to say in chat to get the comments to stop.

“I know I gotta start wearing my hair up more…”

You hear his voice again, it brings you out of the trance you were in. The message you were thinking of sending in chat completely erasing from your mind when you hear Nam-Gyu speak to the chat once again.

“I’ll get my girlfriend to teach me how to do it myself. She did pretty good didn’t she?”

Your heart jumps, you watch his face cam as he touches and plays with the small ponytail you had pulled his hair back into.

It’s almost comical the way the chat seems to pause. Chats still roll in about the game, others complimenting him and agreeing with his statement with a ‘she killed it!’ Or ‘I knew a girl did that! It’s too good for you to have done it’… but none of the ones begging to have a chance to be his girlfriend.

You smile, eyes flicking up from your phone to look at where he sits at his desk. “I’m honestly confused how you guys thought I was single. She literally lays on the bed every stream.” Nam-gyu points behind him.

You look back to your phone and to his face cam. Where he points you could see the tent in the blankets from where your feet were. Now that he’s pointed it out, it’s so obvious someone was lying in the bed. But it seems for months prior, everyone thought it was just the bed’s blankets bunched up.

You laugh a bit to yourself as you see a few comments come in that were from ‘normal’ fans, playfully making fun of him.

‘Lies!! Thems just pillows under a blanket.’

‘That ain’t no girl. Your gooner ass probably has a sex doll in the bed’

“You guys seriously don’t believe I have game?! Oh my god!!!” Nam-Gyu groans, dramatically leaning back in his hair and running his hands down his face.

You look at your phone confused as you watch Nam-Gyu begin to wheel away from the camera in his gaming chair, back towards the bed.

Given no time to react, he spins the gaming chair around and grabs at your waist, “Alllllright c’mere.” Nam-gyu says, pulling you into his lap with ease. He settles you so you’re being held like an infant- legs draped over one armrest while your back leans against the opposite one.

Your laughter echos throughout the room, surely being picked up by the microphone he uses to stream. He spins the chair around and scoots back forward towards his desk.

“See chat?! I’m not fuckin’ lying. I have a girlfriend.” He says damn near holding you up to the camera. You wave bashfully, not knowing what to do.

Nam-gyu senses your slight unease and lifts a hand to your face, squishing your cheeks. “Just such a pretty thing! That’s why I’ve been hiding her!! Can’t have any of you dweebs tryna slide into her DMs.” He jokes, showing you off.

‘Awh!!! She’s so pretty!!’

‘Stop the way he just grabbed her and put her in his lap!!! Ugh so cuteeee!!!!’

‘She’s doing charity work bro’

‘Please tell me you’ll bring her back on!!!’

“This is my channel! You guys are begging to see more of her?! What is this!!”

You laugh at his amped up dramatics and playfully roll your eyes. Nam-gyu smiles widely, dropping his hand from your face. He places a quick kiss on your cheek as the cherry on top of it all.

‘Someone clip this!!!!!! Omg so cute!’

‘Stfu I’m gonna edit them’

‘She’s so pretty she needs to drop a makeup routine’

‘Forget about him.. I want her!!!!!’

“If you guys behave yourselves…” Nam-Gyu says, putting on a scolding fatherly tone- trying to keep a serious face even though he fails severely. “We’ll have girlfriend time. I’ll share her with you guys for a few streams.” He says playfully, moving his legs up and down to make you rock in his lap. “We can play some co-op games or do some challenges in upcoming streams.”

‘Ugh…lame now I don’t want to watch him if he has that thing with him.’

The chat catches your eye, a blurry image in a sea of positive comments. You knew this was inevitable with going public with a famous streamer with such die hard fan girls….but that sure doesn’t make it easier.

“Ahahhhh! Get fucked then.” Nam-gyu says- he saw the same comment. He leans forward, you moving with him as he reaches for his mouse. With a few clicks you see a notification that the user who left the comment was banned.

“If anyone else has some dumb fucking shit to say, be my guest. The block buttons lookin realllll tempting right now.”

Yeah….he don’t play about you.

I hope you all enjoyed this one. It’s a little shorter than some of the other things I put out but I really had fun writing it!!!! I wanted to keep up the posting schedule to help me get back into the swing of things. Let me know what yall think !! - <3 wiwi

[hyukalyptus]

txt reaction when they’re making love to you for the first time, you’re shy and want the lights off, but they urge you to keep them on and end up finding your healed body scars. Is that angsty?

HELL YEAH THIS IS ANGSTY i love it. lets do some hcs,hmm?? im kinda nervous for this one lmao. i feel like my answers may be a bit cringe but i don't care lmfao. maybe a tad self indulgent MWAHAHA

cw. lots of talk of scars and of self harm (nothing graphic, just talking about scars, not the actual harming), kinda cheesy i think?, i tried really hard to not make it cheesy though, sex implied but nothing graphic there, kissing, swearing.

hcs under cut. again, this talks about self harm.

yeonjun is quiet at first. you can feel the moment he sees them. it happens every time. and you still don't really know how to prepare or react. should you act like they don't exist? address the elephant in the room? cover them up with the blankets? your internal argument is interrupted, though. "i see them," he says. no sugarcoating things. which might be your favorite approach so far. you let out a quiet laugh. he says, "honestly, i was already impressed by you." then he grazes his fingertips over them. "now I’m just kinda intimidated." u raise a brow, unsure if he's joking. "you went through all that, and you're still here like it's nothing." you take a deep breath. then he looks into ur eyes and says, "you're even more of a badass than I thought." and you can tell that it's not a stupid line he pulled out of his ass. he's dead serious. and when he leans in to kiss you again, he shows you just how much he wants you.

soobin i think would be very quiet about it. like not really making many comments for a while. but not out of shock or confusion or pity. just an acceptance of who you are. like he's undressing you gently and finally sees your bare body in the light and starts noticing them slowly, his eager hands slowing down. he looks at it for a second while u carefully watch his reaction and then he leans down to press the softest kiss to one. again, not a performative pity party, not feeling sorry for you, and definitely not wanting to "save" you like some have wanted in the past. it's almost in admiration or reverence. and he kisses more of them, saying i see you without speaking.

beomgyu notices them when he lifts your shirt off, eyes slowly trailing down before catching on the thin lines as a flicker of awareness flits across his eyes. you've done this before, though, and with worse lighting. it's not so scary anymore. "yeah," you start. "they’re what you think they are." and he just nods, "okay." and there's this beat of silence before you finally ask, "you good?" he nods with a chuckle and says, "just trying not to say something stupid." a small smile tugs at the corners of ur lips. then he gently rests his palm on ur stomach and says, "it's just..." he takes a deep breath. "ur still here. and you let me be here too." he smiles. "that’s…a lot, you know?" and honestly? you finally feel seen. not as someone with weird scars or some pathetic thing that's minutes away from breaking down. and he's obsessed with you.

taehyun is kinda caught up in the moment already. ur splayed over the bed, fully bare and visible in the light. and he's just noticing them, touching them to acknowledge their existence. "they're not new," you say. "i'm okay now." and the way he looks in ur eyes, a deep admiration and respect ur not sure u've ever felt, just sort of hits. he holds ur face in his hand and says, "thank you for letting me see this part of you." and it's not dramatic. just truth. and you finally feel like he's not looking at something broken. "i didn’t mean to make it a big deal," you murmur. "you didn’t," he whispers. "but it is. you could’ve kept the lights off or covered up. but you didn’t." and the kiss is so beautiful and blissful—not because he sees your scars—but because you trusted him to.

hueningkai sees them when he's kissing down your stomach. he takes them in, slowly, silently. you go still, bracing for something, but ur not quite sure for what. you just hope it isn't disgust or worse: pity. he doesn't speak. just sits back on his knees and really looks at you. "damn," he starts. "you've been through it, huh?" then his eyes flick back up to yours, something different in them now—heavier than they were before. "and i’m just really fucking honored you chose me." you blink. and it hits. you don’t say anything. just reach for him, hand wrapping around the back of his neck to rest gently. when he leans in to kiss you again, it's not careful. it's intentional. he knows what this means. and he's not afraid. and this weight lifts off your shoulders. because he saw them. and he stayed.

-

suicide hotlines:

usa national suicide hotline: 988

Trans Lifeline: 877-565-8860

Blackline (centers Black, Indigenous, & People of Color): (800) 604-5841

Wildflower Alliance Peer Support Line: (888) 407-4515

For text based support, THRIVE Lifeline offers 24/7 crisis support at 1 (313) 662-8209

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 27

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 26 | Series Masterlist | Part 28

Chapter Word Count: Almost 4k

Chapter Summary: An idea comes to you regarding part of your future and Bucky has a few choice words for your parents.

Chapter Warnings: Confrontation, bonding of sorts, inner turmoil, world building, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: I don't know what happened to the original post. Let's try this again! More Hold You Tight, and thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411 and @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-in-darkness. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You thought it would feel strange with Curtis hanging out in the kitchen while you baked the brownies, but it wasn’t as bad as you thought, and it was something you’d have to get used to since he would be around you going forward. He didn’t try to fill the silence with small talk unless you asked him a question, likely trying to remain in the “shadows”. You did wonder what was on his mind since he mentioned being trapped, but it wasn’t any of your business. He was your bodyguard but that didn’t mean he’d be your friend. 

“Smells delicious,” he said, standing when you took them out of the oven. 

“Don’t worry. I won't burn myself,” you said, nodding for him to sit back down. “And thanks. I hope you like them.”

“I'm sure I will.”

Ray walked into the kitchen the moment you set the brownies out to cool off and looked between you and Curtis who settled back in his chair. “A treat for breakfast?” he guessed.

“A treat for Curtis,” you said, making your bodyguard smile a little.

Ray blinked hard and slow. “I see,” he said, pushing his glasses up. Did that upset him? 

“Well, that batch is for Curtis. You have first dibs on the other batch,” you clarified. 

“Thank you. That’s very kind of you.” The blonde raised an eyebrow. “And what about the boss?” 

“He’s third. He knows what he did,” you said unapologetically. They were your brownies. You could do what you wanted with them.

Curtis hid a smile before Ray asked, “And how are you feeling?”

You put your hands on the counter and shrugged. “Hard to say since I’m seeing my parents today and still dealing with…”

“Everything,” Ray finished for you. 

You nodded. “I appreciate you asking.” It felt like you hadn’t talked to him in days and you admittedly missed it. Like Curtis, keeping you safe wasn’t a bore or chore in his eyes. He believed you were brave and part of you was starting to believe it, too. 

“We’re all glad you're safe now,” he softly said.

“Careful there. You might be showing emotion,” Curtis said, earning him a glare from his colleague. 

“Where’s Bucky?” you asked. 

“He sulked for a minute when you kicked him out of the kitchen,” he said, making Curtis snort. Again, Bucky knew what he did. “But he’s in his office. Called Steve and Natalia. He also got an update on Lois.”

“How is she?” you asked, hoping that things were still looking up.

“She’s recovering well,” he assured you. You were glad to hear that. “From what we know, she’s stubborn and strong and it’ll take time, but she’ll be fine.”

You let out a breath. “I really need to see her, and I need to talk to Natasha,” you said. A woman you could hopefully help heal and move forward and a woman who was going to help you in some capacity. Both receiving and paying it forward. As that thought settled in your mind, an idea washed over you, making you stand up straighter and look at Ray again. 

“What is it?” he asked. 

“I have a thought,” you answered, trying not to get too excited. “I need to talk to Bucky.”

Curtis jumped from his chair when you walked out without another word, his footsteps behind you nearly silent. He really was going to be a good bodyguard for you. Ray followed, too, likely curious about why you rushed out so quickly.

Bucky looked up from his desk when you walked into the office, a smile on his face when he stood up. “Brownies ready?” he asked, holding his hand up to keep Curtis and Ray from walking in. 

“Yeah, but that’s not what I came in here for,” you said, taking a seat on the sofa. Bucky immediately went to join you. “I have a bit of a crazy idea and I wanted to get your opinion on it.” 

“You want my opinion?” The subtle shift in his posture showed he was touched. “And I’m the crazy one, Kotyonok, so nothing you could say would ever sound crazy to me.”

You didn’t dispute that he was crazy. “So, you know how one of the things that attracted you to me was helping your mom and my generally kind nature?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“And you helped Natasha however long ago so she could give the women who work at her hotel a better life, right?” you continued. You remembered Natasha telling you if it wasn't for Bucky she wouldn't be where she was. 

“Yes, I did,” he confirmed, not elaborating on how or why.

“What if I do something kind of like that? What if I try to help other women who have…” You swallowed and tried to find the right words, suddenly nervous to ask for his opinion. “Been through stuff, like Lois or me.”

He tilted his head. “You want to help women who have been hurt in some capacity?”

“Yeah. Assault. Abuse. Trauma,” you said. You thought of your own situation, not just Clark's attack, but Bucky systemically making his way into your life. He wasn't out to harm you, but some stalkers did try to harm their victims. “And it's not like I’d have to quit being a florist. I just… I don't know. I want to do something.”

It could've been a means to take back some more control of your life. Being by Bucky’s side, you didn’t want to lose who you were in your core and wanted to continue putting good back into the world. Perhaps you wanted to pay it forward even more since others didn't have the kind of money and protection you now had. 

“It’s stupid, isn't it?” you asked when he stayed quiet. 

You were a florist. Yes, you volunteered when you could and wanted to help people, but it wasn’t your area of expertise. An endeavor like that was out of your depth, wasn't it? 

Bucky framed your face, his eyes flashing with a mixture of pride and fury. “Don't you ever say an idea of yours is stupid. I won't stand for that,” he said, his gaze softening considerably. “Especially since that’s a great idea.”

You studied him, looking for any sign that he was joking. He wasn’t. “Really?” you asked in a small voice.

He kissed the tip of your nose with a smile. “Really. Money won’t be an issue. We can sketch out a plan and figure out what exactly you want to focus on, start local and small. Or you can sketch out the plan and I’ll give input if you seek it out,” he said, a hint of his businessman tone coming out. “If this is really something you want, we’ll make it happen.”

“So, just like that?” you asked. He was really supporting this?

“Of course. It’s admirable that you continue to look out for others and I’m going to support whatever you want to do,” he said. 

“Thank you,” you whispered. You didn’t want to admit how nice it felt that he was backing this up, especially when you had no set plan yet. 

“It also means a lot that you asked for my opinion.”

“Well, we have to talk through these things. It’s what couples do,” you said. 

His smile was brighter than the light in the room. “So, you really see us as a couple now.”

“I guess so,” you said. What choice did you have?

He sighed before he kissed your lips, featherlight and full of promise. “You won’t regret it,” he whispered, suddenly standing and helping you to your feet, too. “You’re still in your robe.”

“I’ve been in the kitchen this whole time,” you reminded him, your mind going back to Curtis and wondering more about his past. 

“And what about the day I’m walking around in nothing but my underwear?” you blurted out without meaning to.

Bucky checked his watch. “Why don’t you get ready for lunch? I think Curtis and Ray have seen you in your robe enough for one day,” he tried to tease while his eyes stayed on his watch. 

Darkness crossed Bucky’s eyes, but it was more lust than rage when he put his hands on your hips. “I’d hate to have to hurt my own men, but I do love the thought of you walking around our home so… freely.”

“I’ll bet you do,” you whispered, knowing he’d probably chase you around or drag you to bed if he had the chance. “But for now, yes, I should get dressed.”

“Don’t want to keep your parents waiting,” he said, letting you pull away to get ready. “I hope I make a lasting impression.”

You shivered, wondering just what kind of impression he wanted to make. “I’m sure you will.”

Curtis leaned against the wall outside of the office while Ray stood on the other side. “You want to help others, huh?” your bodyguard asked.

You stopped to face him. “Yeah, I do.”

Curtis didn’t say anything else, but he looked impressed. So did Ray. You didn’t have time to dwell on that. You had to get ready for a lunch that you didn’t want to go to. 

But your whole life as of late had been a series of events you had to participate in without much of a choice, so what was one more?

Bucky held your hand the entire drive to the restaurant and didn’t force you to talk, which you appreciated since your stomach was in knots. You found yourself playing with the diamond necklace, which he had put around your neck before you left. Your mom would no doubt stare at it or make a comment since you had never had such a nice piece of jewelry. Was this going to be a disaster or were you overthinking it?

“We’ll get through this quickly,” Bucky told you once the car stopped, his lips brushing the top of your hand. “Long enough for me to meet them and send them on their way.”

The knot in your stomach tightened more. How exactly was he going to send them on their way? “And after that?”

“Whatever you want,” he promised, helping you out of the car.

You didn’t pay much attention as you were escorted to the private table, but you knew Ray and Curtis weren’t far behind. The place was bright and airy, but sophisticated. It would've been a nice place to go on a date. Would this lunch sour that idea?

“I’m here,” Bucky whispered, pulling out your chair for you.

Considering the way he burst into your life you never expected to lean on him for anything. You had since your attack and now this, looking to him for support without meaning to. You even asked for his opinion on your idea to help other women, which you did seek out. Who were you becoming?

“Why do I care so much about what they think?” you asked when he sat down beside you.

“Because they’re your parents and it’s natural,” he replied, taking your hand under the table. “But you don’t need them.”

You were about to argue that you did need them before you caught them in your line of sight, your back rigid as they moved closer. They didn’t look overjoyed to see you, which broke your heart a bit. Bucky squeezed your hand before you realized you had squeezed his hand first. This was going to be a long lunch.

“It’s good to see you,” your dad said when Bucky released your hand only to pull your chair back to help you stand. “And you must be-”

“Bucky, her boyfriend. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said, shaking his hand and smirking when your dad winced and turning a critical eye on your mom. Neither of them hugged you before they took their seats and you quickly sat back down to hide your embarrassment. “You two raised quite the woman,” he added, daring them to say something.

“Thank you,” your mom said, looking over the menu. 

“Since the menu seems to be more important than greeting your daughter, please, pick whatever you want,” Bucky smiled like a wolf getting ready to strike while you gaped at him. “I spare no expense when it comes to her and her… loved ones. Just look at her necklace. I purchased it for our first date.”

Your mom’s mouth fell open and you felt a bit of satisfaction when your dad squirmed in his seat. Did that make you a bad person? “I’m sorry. I meant nothing by it.” Your mom cleared her throat. “We’re thrilled to see you. It’s just with our accounts being frozen…”

“You’ve had a lot on your mind,” you filled in the blanks. You were used to it.

“Yes, I’m sorry about your accounts,” Bucky said without sounding sorry at all and pretended to look over his menu. “Interesting how you always think of others first even when you have a lot on your mind, Kotyonok,” he said loud enough for the whole table to hear. “Makes me wonder what that came from.”

Your mom’s mouth didn’t drop again, but you heard her sharp inhale on her next breath and your dad squirmed again. They weren’t used to subtle insults like that, especially from someone who had just met them. But as Bucky took your hand, you very much felt like his queen and he was defending you as such.

“Aren’t you going to compliment her necklace?” Bucky asked, turning his head to smile at you. “It’s as beautiful as she is.”

Your face felt hot when your parents stared and admired the diamonds. “They don’t have to say anything,” you mumbled.

“But I don’t understand. What kind of parents don’t compliment their child, especially when they haven’t seen them in some time?” he asked. Once again, it was loud enough for them to hear. He was digging the knife in and twisting it in the most passive aggressive way.

“It’s beautiful,” your mom said enviously, avoiding looking at Bucky. 

“Thanks,” he said, flagging the server down and putting a hand to his chest. “Like I said, whatever you want. It’s on me.”

You picked a light meal, knowing there was a high chance you couldn’t stomach something heavy. Your mom chose the highest priced meal, which Bucky merely smiled expectantly. Your dad had the good sense to not do the same. It would’ve been nice if they asked how you were or gave some sort of indication that they cared.

“How did you two meet?” your dad asked to break the tension, which only made you nervous all over again.

“My club, and I very much fell for her first,” Bucky answered easily and leaned over to kiss your temple. “I knew she was the one the moment I laid eyes on her.”

“Club?” your mom questioned. “Since when do you go to clubs?”

“It was for Addison’s bachelorette party,” your boyfriend answered for you, smiling again. “You know Addison, don’t you? I would hope so. She’s practically family to her.”

You took a sip of your water and said nothing as your parents looked more uncomfortable with each passing second. The air was awkward to say the least.  Bucky, on the other hand, looked over the moon one second and ready to kill the next. It had to be giving your parents whiplash.

“She’s a good friend,” your mom said, her smile shaky. “How’s the shop?” she asked, changing the subject.

“The shop’s great,” you said and found yourself smiling since you did love the place and your job. “Mrs. Crandle is still a great boss and-”

“And you’re still just a florist,” she cut you off dismissively with a shake of her head, wiping your smile away. “You could’ve been so much more.”

Your eyes glossed over, but you held your head high. “There’s nothing wrong with me being a florist, and I am more.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you?”

“Ease up,” your dad whispered to your mom, shocking you both. Since when was he not on her side? Or was it because Bucky glared at them?

“Just a florist.” The man beside you chuckled, a dark and empty sound. “Tell them about the idea you told me about earlier today.”

The knot filled your stomach so much that you feared you’d get sick. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you said, not wanting to hear what they had to say since they never backed you up on anything.

“But it’s a great idea,” he assured you, giving your parents a smile. “Wait until you hear it.”

Your dad leaned forward and appeared interested. Was it for show? “What is it?” 

Bucky nodded, encouraging you to speak up. “I went through something recently,” you said carefully, not wanting to blurt it out. “And it made me realize I want to help others and build a support system for women who have been through things.”

Your parents looked at each other as you held your breath. “That sounds ambitious,” your dad said just as carefully as you. “I realize you have good intentions, but…”

“You can’t just up and decide you want to run a charity,” your mom said, laughing and tapping her finger on the table when Bucky gripped his water glass. “You need more than just good intentions. You need experience and funding, which you have none of.”

You sighed. It was exactly what you expected. They wanted you to be more, but offered no encouragement when you tried. 

“Aren’t you even going to ask what I went through?” you asked, your voice thick with emotion. For the first time, your mom looked worried. “Someone-”

“They don’t deserve to know.” Bucky took a sip before he gently set the glass down, making you eye him warily. He looked like he was ready to explode. “She isn’t just deciding, by the way. She has volunteer experience and she’s going to formulate a plan. And what she may lack in other ‘experiences’, she has passion, heart, and drive. It’s a shame you're too blind to see that.”

Your mom shrank back in her seat, looking as small as you felt. “I didn’t mean-”

“And as far as funding, I’ll be helping her with that since I don't expect either of you to lend her a thing. She has her own money, too. You just didn't know it,” he explained, bitterly laughing again at their shocked expressions. “Jesus Christ. You’re her parents. You should be proud of her. She’s loved by everyone she meets and she has thrived without your support.” He let that hang in the air before he continued. “She has more character in her finger than you two have in your entire body and I will back her up on anything and everything she needs because I believe in her.”

You placed a hand on Bucky’s thigh to ground him, your eyes welling with tears again. You were torn between not wanting him to cause a scene and for him to keep speaking because it just felt nice to hear. It felt pathetic and empowering, a strange combination. 

“I just wanted you to support and love me,” you whispered, your chest aching at finally saying the words. “Why didn't you?”

Why did it hurt so much that you didn't have the love you needed?

Your dad leaned back like you slapped him while your mom didn't move. “We did and do love you,” he swore, looking to his wife for help when Bucky scoffed in disbelief. “Tell her.”

He shouldn't have to tell her that.

“We just wanted you to have direction,” your mom said, flinching when Bucky leaned forward with one elbow on the table. She couldn't even say she loved you. 

“She has always had direction. You just never bothered to look where she was going,” he said, his voice soft and dangerous. “Though I guess your lack of support helped build her into the woman I love, so I almost wonder if I should thank you for not being who she needed.”

“I’m not going to sit here and let you continue to insult us,” your dad said since your mom was rendered speechless for once. 

You almost warned your dad that Bucky wasn't the kind of man to mouth off to, but didn't. 

“You know, I think I know now why you wanted to become a florist,” Bucky said as if he didn’t hear him. “You’re surrounded by warmth and brightness and you get to watch things bloom and grow and thrive because you never had that.”

You blinked away your tears. Bucky saw what they didn’t. You didn’t have to point it out.

“We do love our daughter, even if we didn't show it in the best way,” your dad argued, trying to take your hand across the table, but Bucky pulled you back. It was another brick added to the wall to keep people he didn’t want near you out.

“You didn’t love her enough and you never will.” He took his wallet out and threw some money on the table, more than enough to cover the meals that hadn’t yet arrived at the table. “Thank God I love her enough for all of us and I always will.”

Your mom sniffled. You hardly ever saw her cry. “I…” She trailed off when your boyfriend tossed more money on the table. 

“That should cover the rest of your time here in the city. Take it. Or don’t. But I’m not going to sit here and play nice with people who make my future wife feel low about herself.” He pushed himself up and let your parents see just how large and imposing he was. “Just leave her alone the way you always have.”

They were good at leaving you alone. 

“Please,” your dad begged, making you pause. “We’re sorry.”

“Empty apologies mean nothing,” Bucky said, his eyes narrowed. “Oh, and as it stands, I don’t want you at our wedding, but maybe your loving daughter will change my mind.”

“Wedding?!” your mom exclaimed. 

“Yes, she’s going to be my wife and have a wonderful life with me.” He smiled when you didn't disagree. “Enjoy the rest of your trip.”

Bucky helped you up from the table and led you away, not even letting you look back when you heard your mom choke on a sob. They didn’t chase after you. They never would.

Your steps felt heavy. Your head spun. It was a relief that they knew how you felt in some capacity, but you didn't feel much better. Why not?

“They’re the past and I’m your present and future,” your boyfriend whispered, slipping an arm around you when you bit your lip. “I’m the family you need.”

“Thank you for sticking up for me,” you said, making him preen. 

“I’ll always defend and stick up for you,” he promised, his grip possessive. “And I'm proud of you.”

What was there to be proud of? No, you wouldn't think like that. You were a good person, and a survivor. Your parents and their lack of support and care wouldn't take that from you.

“But I didn’t even get to tell them what happened.” What if they had wanted to help? They weren’t loving, but you were still their daughter and your mom had looked worried for a second.

“You don’t need them. Not when you have me,” he said, leaving no room to argue when he nodded to Ray and Curtis who hovered nearby. “And I won't let them hurt you ever again.”

You should’ve known lunch with your parents meant Bucky would close the door. You would have no choice but to move forward. And you didn't know what that meant except that you were now one step closer to being entirely his. 

This chapter took a lot out of me! As a mom who wants to show nothing but love and support to my babies (and protect them), I want to wrap Kotyonok in a huge hug. Where do we think they'll go from here? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

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