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Pairing: Black Cat!Daniela Avanzini x Female reader
Warnings: smut,kissing,pussy eating,pet names,use of kitten,hidden and secret identity(more to be added),
Series Summary:
By day, Daniela Avanzini is the clever, silver-haired girl you keep running into on campus. By night, she’s Black Cat — the cat burglar who owns the city skyline.
You have no idea they’re the same person.
What starts as flirtatious run-ins between classes slowly escalates when Black Cat begins dragging you into her heists… and her bed. The thrill is dangerous, the chemistry is undeniable, and Felicia always gets what she wants — including you.
Pairing: Daniela Avanzini x Deadbeat dad female g!p reader
Warnings: cussing,mentions of alcohol(not current) ,mentions of reader being a deadbeat ,angst ,smut ,creampie,p in v sex,cock warming?,angry sex,fluff,happy ending,
word count: 3.6k
a/n: I had a lot of fun writing this!
Request is here
The fluorescent lights of the grocery store buzz overhead like they always do, casting that sterile glow over rows of brightly packaged cereal and pasta. You’re halfway down the aisle, absentmindedly reaching for the oat milk you’ve been buying for years,the same brand Daniela used to tease you about because “it tastes like watery cardboard, baby, why do you do this to yourself?”—when everything inside you locks up.
There she is.
Daniela stands at the far end of the aisle, one hip cocked, pushing a sleek black shopping cart that’s already half full with fresh produce, organic yogurt, those fancy almond butter jars she loves, and a small mountain of diapers. She’s wearing the same leather jacket she had on the last night you spent together, the one that smells like her perfume and makes her shoulders look impossibly strong. Her dark hair is pulled into a loose ponytail, a few strands escaping to frame her face, and she looks… good. Too good. Healthy, rested, glowing in that way only Daniela can manage even on a random Tuesday afternoon.
But it’s not just her.
Balanced on her hip is a little girl she can be no more than one year old, with wild dark curls, big curious eyes, and your exact nose. Thea. Your daughter. She’s wearing tiny denim overalls and a striped shirt, one chubby hand clutching a brightly colored plastic ring toy while the other waves at everything in sight. Her mouth never stops moving.
“Ma-ma! Look! Apple! Red apple! Baba ga ga! Big big! Mama up up please! Da-da? Where da-da? Ga ga goo!”
Daniela laughs,that rich, throaty sound that used to vibrate through your chest when she laughed against your neck after sex,and presses a kiss to the top of Thea’s head. “Sí, mija, eso es una manzana roja. Pero no vamos a comprar todas las frutas del mundo hoy, ¿okay? You’re already talking my ear off and we haven’t even hit the bakery yet.”
Translation: (Yes, sweetie, that’s a red apple. But we’re not going to buy every fruit in the world today, okay?)
She bounces Thea gently, humming a little tune under her breath in Spanish, completely unaware that the woman who disappeared from her life two years ago is standing twenty feet away, frozen like a deer in headlights.
Your heart slams against your ribs so hard you think it might crack them. You haven’t seen Daniela since the night she sat on the edge of your bathtub holding the pregnancy test between trembling fingers, eyes shining with a mix of terror and joy. “We’re having a baby,” she’d whispered, voice cracking. “Our baby.” And you had been a coward, panic-stricken, terrified of turning into the deadbeat your own father was—had stared at the two pink lines like they were a death sentence. That same night, while she slept curled against your side, you packed a duffel bag, wrote a cowardly note—“I can’t do this, I’m sorry, I love you”—and vanished. No goodbye. No explanation beyond those pathetic six words. You ghosted the woman you claimed to love and the child she was carrying because the fear of failure felt bigger than everything else.
You duck behind the endcap display of canned soup before she can turn and see you. Your palms are sweating, your throat is dry, and every instinct screams run,ike you always do. But this time your feet won’t move. Not when Thea is babbling “da-da da-da” like it’s her favorite song, not when Daniela is right there looking like the life you could have had if you hadn’t been such a fucking idiot.
You abandon your cart in the middle of the aisle and slip out the emergency exit instead, the alarm beeping once before you’re outside in the cool March air. You lean against the brick wall near the cart return, heart racing, waiting. You don’t know what you’re going to say. You don’t know if she’ll even let you speak. But you know you can’t walk away again. Not after seeing Thea’s face—your face, miniaturized and perfect and so full of life.
Fifteen minutes later the automatic doors whoosh open. Daniela steps out first, pushing the cart with one hand while the other steadies Thea in the built-in seat. The little girl is still going strong, pointing at every car in the lot. “Car! Blue car! Vroom vroom! Mama look! Big truck! Baba ga ga! Da-da drive? Da-da car?”
Daniela sighs, but it’s fond. “No da-da today, mi amor. Just us girls, like always. But maybe we’ll get ice cream later if you’re good.” Her voice is soft, tired in that gentle way that comes from loving someone so much it exhausts you and fills you at the same time.
You step forward before you lose your nerve.
“Daniela.”
She stops dead. The cart wheels squeak to a halt. Her head snaps up, dark eyes locking onto yours. For one endless heartbeat there’s nothing,no sound, no movement, just the two of you staring across six feet of concrete and almost two years of silence. Thea keeps babbling happily, oblivious. “Mama? Who dat? Hi hi! Baba! Pretty lady! Ga ga goo!”
Then Daniela’s hand cracks across your face.
The slap echoes through the parking lot, sharp and final. Your cheek explodes with heat, vision blurring for a second, but you don’t flinch. You don’t step back. You stand there and take it because god knows you deserve that and a lot worse.
“¿Qué mierda haces aquí?” she hisses, voice low and lethal at first, then rising like a storm. “After two fucking years? You disappear the night I tell you I’m pregnant, leave a note like some spineless cabrón, and now you just… show up? In the middle of a goddamn grocery store parking lot? ¡Hijo de tu chingada madre! Who the fuck do you think you are to walk back into my life like this?”
Translations: (What the hell are you doing here?)
(You son of a bitch!)
Thea startles at the volume, eyes going wide, but then she focuses on you and lights up like Christmas. “Da-da! Da-da here?! Hi da-da? Up up! Mama, da-da! Kiss kiss! Baba ga ga! You dada?”
Daniela’s chest rises and falls rapidly. “You don’t get to look at her. You don’t get to hear her call you that. Do you have any idea what the last two years have been like? I carried her alone. I felt her kick alone. I gave birth alone,pushing for hours in that delivery room with nurses holding my hands because the person who was supposed to be there ran away like a scared little girl. I brought her home to an empty apartment and learned how to be a mother while crying myself to sleep every night wondering what the hell I did wrong. And Thea,she’s been asking for you since she could make sounds. Every time she sees a tall woman she points and says ‘da-da?’ like maybe this time you’ll finally show up. ¡Vete a la verga! I should call the cops right now and have you trespassed.”
Translation :(Go fuck yourself! Goddamn it!)
You swallow the copper taste of guilt and blood from where your lip split against your teeth. “I know. I know I fucked up worse than anyone ever could. I panicked, Daniela. The second those two lines appeared I saw my dad,drunk, violent, gone—and I thought if I stayed I’d become him. I’d ruin you. Ruin her. So I ran. I ran because I was terrified of failing you both. But running didn’t make it better. It made everything worse. I spent two years hating myself every single day. I got sober. I got therapy. I built a life that wasn’t falling apart every weekend. And three months ago I moved back here hoping,praying, I’d find you. I didn’t know how to reach out. I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me. But seeing you today… seeing her… I can’t disappear again. I won’t.”
Thea reaches both arms toward you now, her chubby little fingers opening and closing. “Da-da come! Up up please! Mama, da-da here! Hug! Ga ga ba ba! Love da-da!”
Daniela steps protectively in front of the cart, eyes blazing. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare act like you can just pick her up and everything’s fine. You lost that right the day you walked out. I had to explain to a baby why her other mom never came home. I had to learn every single thing, how to swaddle her so she wouldn’t wake up screaming, how to tell if she had a fever, how to survive on four hours of sleep and still smile when she babbled at me like I was the best thing in the world. And you? You were probably out getting drunk and fucking strangers to forget we existed.”
“I never forgot,” you say quietly. “Not for one second. Every time I closed my eyes I saw you—your smile when you came, the way you’d whisper my name like a prayer, the way you’d fall asleep with your head on my chest. I dreamed about this baby every night. I dreamed about coming back and begging. I just… didn’t know if you’d ever forgive me. But I’m here now. And I’m asking—begging—for a chance to prove I’m different. Let me help. Let me carry the bags. Let me sit in your living room while you scream at me in every language you know. Let me change diapers and make bottles and listen to every single thing I missed. I’ll take whatever you throw at me. I just want to try. For real this time please Dani.”
Daniela’s jaw clenches so hard you can see the muscle jump. Tears spill over her lashes but she doesn’t wipe them away. “You think sorry erases two years? You think showing up makes up for every milestone you missed? Her first smile. Her first word—‘mama,’ by the way, not you. Her first steps. Every single one of those moments I had to celebrate alone because the person who helped make her couldn’t be bothered to stay.”
“I know,” you whisper. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for it if you let me.”
Thea chooses that moment to really go off, clapping her hands and squealing. “Mama mad? Da-da sorry? Kiss kiss! Mama hug da-da! Up up! Family! Ga ga goo! Da-da stay! Stay stay!” god she was so fucking cute.
Daniela exhales shakily. She looks at Thea—really looks—and something in her expression cracks. “Dios mío,” she mutters. “She’s been waiting for you. Every day. And I hate that part of me still wants to believe you won’t run again.”
Translation:(My god)
“I won’t,” you say, voice breaking. “I swear on everything. I’m not leaving unless you tell me to go. And even then I’ll fight to stay.”
She stares at you for what feels like forever. Then, quietly, “You can follow me home. But only because she won’t stop reaching for you and I’m not doing this in a parking lot with people staring. You get one hour. You help me unload groceries. You sit with her while I make dinner. You listen to everything I need to say. After that… we’ll see. But if you hurt her—if you hurt me again,you’ll never see thea ever again Do you understand?”
“Yes,” you breathe. “Thank you. Thank you.”
The drive to her apartment is tense and quiet except for Thea’s endless stream of chatter from the backseat. “Mama car! Da-da car! Vroom! Song? Mama song! Baba ga ga! Da-da sing? Sing please! Ga ga!”
Daniela glances at you in the rearview mirror more than once, eyes still wary but no longer pure fire. When you pull into the underground garage of her building,a nice mid-rise in a quiet part of the city, the kind of place she always talked about wanting,you help carry the bags up without being asked. The apartment smells exactly like her: warm vanilla candles, fresh coffee, a hint of the eucalyptus body wash she loves. Toys are scattered across the living room floor in cheerful chaos, soft blocks, stacking cups, a plush giraffe with one ear chewed off. On the fridge is a gallery of photos: Daniela pregnant and radiant, Daniela holding newborn Thea in the hospital, Thea’s first birthday with cake smeared across her cheeks. No pictures of you. Of course not.
You spend the next hour doing exactly what she demanded. You unload groceries while she supervises like a drill sergeant. You sit on the floor with Thea while Daniela cooks arroz con pollo, letting the baby climb all over you, babbling nonstop. “Da-da! Block! Build build! Tall tower! Boom! Ga ga! Again! Da-da funny! Kiss nose! Muah! Love da-da! Mama look! Da-da play!”
Daniela watches from the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, expression unreadable. When Thea finally starts rubbing her eyes and yawning—“Sleepy? Nap nap? Story? Da-da story please!”—Daniela scoops her up and carries her to the nursery. You follow at a distance, standing in the doorway while Daniela rocks her, singing softly in Spanish until Thea’s lashes flutter shut.
When the baby is down, Daniela turns to you in the dim hallway light. “She settled fast for you. Too fast.”
“Because she feels safe with me,” you say. “Because she knows I’m hers.”
Daniela doesn’t respond right away. Instead she walks past you into the living room, sits on the couch, and pats the cushion beside her. You sit. Carefully. Like you’re afraid one wrong move will shatter everything.
She stares at the floor for a long minute. “I hated you,” she says finally. “For so long I hated you. But hating you hurt more than loving you ever did. And seeing you today… seeing how she lit up… I don’t know what to do with that.”
“Let me stay,” you whisper. “Let me show you I’m not running anymore.”
She looks at you then—really looks—and something shifts. Slowly, she reaches out and cups your still-stinging cheek. “One chance,” she says. “That’s all you get. And you’re going to earn every single second of it.”
Before you can answer she kisses you.
It’s not gentle. It’s teeth and anger and two years of pent-up everything. She climbs into your lap, straddling your thighs, hands fisting in your shirt as she devours your mouth like she’s trying to punish you and claim you at the same time. You groan into her, hands sliding up her back, feeling the familiar curve of her spine, the heat of her skin through her thin top.
“Bedroom,” she growls against your lips. “Now.”
You follow her like you’re under a spell, feet moving before your brain even catches up, the air between you thick with heat and inevitability. She doesn’t ask, she simply turns, grabs a fistful of your shirt, and shoves you backward onto the mattress with surprising strength. The springs protest under your weight; you barely have time to catch your breath before she’s swinging a leg over your hips and straddling you.
Her hands are everywhere at once,yanking your shirt up and over your head, dragging your jeans and boxers down just far enough. She doesn’t bother with finesse; buttons pop, fabric tears a little at the seam. Your hands fumble at her clothes in return, but she’s already peeling her own top off, bra following in a careless arc across the room. Skin meets skin in a rush of fever-hot contact.
When she finally grips you, firm, almost possessive—and lines herself up, the first brush of her slick heat against your tip makes your hips jerk involuntarily. She doesn’t tease for long. Slowly, deliberately, she begins to sink down.
Every inch stretches her open. You feel the tight, liquid grip of her body yielding around you, fluttering, resisting just enough to make the slide exquisite. Her mouth falls open on a shaky exhale; her nails dig half-moons into your chest as she forces herself lower. When her ass finally settles flush against your thighs and you’re buried to the hilt inside her, the sound that rips out of her throat is raw.
Her whole body trembles once, violently, walls pulsing hard around your length like she’s trying to pull you even deeper. She stays perfectly still for a heartbeat, eyes glassy and unfocused, lips parted on uneven breaths.
Then she whispers, barely audible, voice cracked:
“Fuck… I can feel you in my stomach.”
And the spell tightens.
“Fuck,” you gasp. “Daniela—”
“Shut up.” She starts riding you hard, hips rolling in that perfect rhythm that always drove you insane. Her nails dig into your shoulders, leaving half-moons. “You feel that? That’s what you left behind. Two years of me aching for this cock, touching myself in the shower thinking about how deep you used to fuck me, how you’d hold me down and make me come until I couldn’t breathe. And you weren’t here.”
She grinds down harder, clit rubbing against your pelvis with every thrust. Her pussy is soaked, slick sounds obscene in the quiet room, walls fluttering around you like she’s trying to pull you deeper. “You don’t get to come until I say,” she pants. “You’re going to lie there and take it while I use you. While I remind myself why I ever let you inside me in the first place.”
You grip her hips but don’t thrust up and stay as quiet as you can like she said only letting out groans when she sinks down onto you ,but you let her set the pace, let her take. She rides you faster, tits bouncing, head thrown back as she switches to Spanish curses that make your cock throb harder. “¡Sí, así! ¡Más duro, cabrona! ¡Me estás volviendo loca! You think you can just come back and I’ll forgive you with pretty words? No. You’re gonna fill me up like you should’ve the night I got pregnant. Gonna make me come so hard I forget how much I hated you.”
Translation: (Yes, just like that! Harder, you bitch! You're driving me crazy)
She leans down, biting your neck, marking you. Her rhythm falters as she gets close—thighs shaking, breath hitching. “Touch me,” she demands. “Make me come on this cock.”
Your fingers find her clit, circling fast and firm the way she likes. She shatters almost immediately—back arching, walls clamping down so tight you see stars. “¡Me vengo! Fuck—yes—right there—don’t stop!” Her orgasm milks you relentlessly until you can’t hold back anymore. You spill inside her with a broken groan, pulse after pulse, filling her until it leaks out around your base.
“Fuck daniela”
She collapses onto your chest, still trembling, still full of you. “Don’t pull out,” she whispers. “Stay inside me. Just… stay.”
You wrap your arms around her, kissing her sweat-damp hair. “I’m not going anywhere. Never again.”
The next morning you wake to Thea’s voice crackling through the baby monitor, already wide awake and narrating her entire world. “Mama? Da-da? Morning! Sun! Birdie outside! Tweet tweet! Baba ga ga! Breakfast? Pancakes? Yummy yummy! Up up please! Da-da sing? Song song!”
Daniela stirs against you, smiling sleepily for the first time since you walked back into her life. “Your daughter never shuts up. You sure you’re ready for this?”
You kiss her softly. “I’ve been ready for two years. I just didn’t know how to admit it.”
You both get up, throw on robes, and head into the nursery where Thea is grabbing on the edge with her chubby hands. The second she sees you she squeals. “Da-da! Hi hi hi! Mama da-da! Kiss kiss! Love love! Ga ga! Milk? Please please! Story? Da-da story! Big adventure! Baba!”
You scoop her up, settling her on your hip and follow Daniela into the kitchen while she starts the coffee. Thea immediately grabs your face with both hands, planting sloppy kisses everywhere. “Da-da funny! Nose! Muah! Cheek! Muah! Love da-da! Mama pretty! Family! Yay yay! Pancakes now? Please!”
Daniela slides a plate of sliced fruit toward you both, watching with soft eyes. “She’s been like this since five a.m. Nonstop talking. You’re gonna have your hands full.”
“Good,” you say, bouncing Thea gently. “I want my hands full. Of both of you.”
The morning stretches into lazy hours. You make pancakes, burning the first batch because Thea insists on “helping” by throwing flour everywhere. You read the same picture book five times because she demands “again again!” after every page. You let her babble for twenty straight minutes about nothing and everything—“Doggy woof! Cat meow! Birdie fly! Da-da big! Strong! Hug tight! Mama sing! Song song! Love love forever!”
Daniela sits beside you on the couch, head on your shoulder, fingers laced with yours. “She’s happy,” she murmurs. “Really happy. I haven’t seen her this excited since… ever.”
“Because we’re together,” you say. “All three of us.”
Thea chooses that moment to climb into both your laps at once, wedging herself between you. “Mama da-da! Sandwich! Hug hug! Family! Ga ga goo! Forever forever! No go! Stay stay!”
Daniela kisses the top of her head, then turns to you. “We’re taking this slow. One day at a time. But… yeah. We’re doing this. We’re trying again. Properly.”
You pull them both closer. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
Thea claps her hands, babbling triumphantly. “Yay! Mama da-da happy! Pancakes more? Play play! Love love! Ga ga forever!”
And in that sunlit living room, surrounded by toys and laughter and the two people who mean everything, you finally feel like you’re home. Not just visiting. Not just trying. Home. For good.
Pairing: adhd Spider woman reader x Sophia Laforteza
Warnings:Just the fluffiest fluff, making out,kissing,mentions of blood(not to much)
word count:2.6k
a/n: Wanted to make this into a series so i am!
request is here
pt 1
The late afternoon sun had slipped into evening by the time you slipped out the window of your bedroom two nights later, the city lights already flickering on like scattered jewels across Santa Monica. Sophia had left your place with a soft kiss at the door and a promise to text when she got home, her cheeks still flushed and her hair a little messy from your fingers. You had fallen asleep smiling, her vanilla scent still clinging to your sheets. But tonight the streets called again, that restless itch in your palms flaring up the second the sun dipped below the horizon.
You moved fast across the rooftops, web lines singing through the air as you swung low and tight between palm trees and billboards. The fight started simple enough, just a tip from an overheard police scanner about a crew hitting a warehouse down near the pier. You dropped in expecting a couple of guys with bats and bad attitudes. What you got instead was four of them, plus the one in the middle who moved wrong, too fast, like someone had pumped him full of something that made his veins bulge and his punches land like freight trains.
He caught you off guard with the first swing, a meaty fist slamming into your ribs and sending you skidding across the concrete floor. Pain exploded white-hot along your side, but you rolled with it, webbing his ankles together before he could follow up. The others piled on then, boots kicking at your arms, a knife flashing once across your forearm before you could twist away. You fought dirty and precise, the way you always did, webs pinning two to the wall, a spinning kick cracking the third guy’s jaw. But the big one broke free, grabbed you by the hoodie, and hurled you through a stack of crates. Wood splintered. Glass shattered. Something sharp sliced along your thigh and another bruise bloomed across your shoulder when you hit the far wall.
By the time you webbed the last of them to the ceiling and called in the anonymous tip, your body felt like one giant heartbeat of hurt. Blood soaked through the sleeve of your suit on your left arm, warm and sticky. Your ribs screamed every time you took a full breath. The cut on your thigh burned like fire. You knew exactly what a hospital would ask, the same questions every time, the same suspicious looks when the injuries did not line up with any normal story. So you did not even consider it. Instead you swung north, slower this time, each web pull pulling a fresh grimace from your lips, until the familiar apartment building near the hospital came into view, the one with the faded blue balconies where Sophia lived with her mom.
You landed on her balcony with a soft thump, the sliding door already cracked open because she had started leaving it that way on nights you might show up. The lights inside were low, just the warm glow of a lamp in the living room and the blue flicker of the television turned down low. You tapped once on the glass, careful not to leave blood smears, and waited.
The door slid open almost instantly. Sophia stood there in soft gray sweatpants and an oversized hoodie that swallowed her frame, her dark hair pulled into a loose bun. Her eyes widened the second they landed on you, the mask still covering the lower half of your face but doing nothing to hide the split lip or the way you were favoring your right side.
“Oh my god,” she breathed, stepping back fast so you could slip inside. “What happened? You’re bleeding. You’re actually bleeding.”
You pulled the mask off with your good hand, letting it drop to the floor. The apartment smelled like her, citrus and vanilla and the faint trace of the herbal tea she liked to drink before bed. “Bad fight,” you said, voice rough from the pain. “Warehouse near the pier. Guy was on something, moved like he had extra limbs. I handled it, but not before he and his friends got a few good shots in. Couldn’t risk the hospital. They’d start asking questions I can’t answer without sounding crazy.”
Sophia’s face went tight with worry, but she did not panic. She never did. Instead she moved with quiet purpose, guiding you straight to the bathroom down the short hallway. “Sit,” she ordered softly, pointing at the closed toilet lid. “Mom’s on a double shift tonight, she won’t be back until morning. We have the place. Let me see.”
You eased down with a hiss, ribs protesting. She knelt in front of you without hesitation, peeling back the torn sleeve of your suit with careful fingers. The cut on your forearm was long but shallow, already starting to clot. Her touch was gentle, clinical almost, but her eyes stayed soft.
“Talk to me while I clean this,” she said, pulling a first-aid kit from under the sink, the same one her mom kept stocked for work. “What exactly happened? Start from the beginning. I need to know how bad we’re dealing with.”
You watched her open alcohol wipes and gauze, the fluorescent light catching on the tiny fox sticker still clinging to her water bottle on the counter. “I dropped in thinking it was just a smash-and-grab. Four guys loading crates. One of them was different, faster, stronger. He clocked me first, right in the ribs. Felt like getting hit by a car. Then the knife came out. I webbed three of them quick, but the big one threw me through some crates. That’s where the leg got cut. Nothing’s broken, I don’t think. Just bruised and sliced.”
She pressed a wipe to the cut on your arm and you flinched hard. “Sorry,” she murmured, blowing cool air across it the way you had seen her do with her own paper cuts. “Keep going. Did you get them all?”
“Yeah. They’re wrapped up nice and neat for the cops. Anonymous tip already sent. No one saw me leave.” You let out a slow breath as she taped gauze over the wound, her fingers warm against your skin. “I came straight here. I always feel safer here than anywhere else.”
Sophia looked up at you then, eyes shining with something fierce and tender at the same time. “Good. Because you’re staying here tonight. No arguments. I’m not letting you swing home like this.” She moved to your thigh next, helping you peel the torn fabric away just enough to see the cut. It was deeper than the arm but still clean. She worked in silence for a minute, cleaning, applying ointment, wrapping it carefully with a fresh bandage. Every touch hurt, but her hands made it bearable, like she was pulling the pain out with every gentle press.
When she finished she sat back on her heels and studied you, cataloging every bruise blooming across your ribs and shoulder. “You’re a mess,” she said quietly, but there was no judgment in it, only worry wrapped in affection. “I hate seeing you like this. I know you have to do it, I get that now, but it still scares me every time.”
You reached out with your good hand and brushed a loose strand of hair from her cheek. “I know. I’m sorry I scared you. But I’m here. I’m okay. Mostly.”
She leaned into your palm for a second, then stood and turned the faucet on in the tub. “You need to soak some of this off. Warm water will help the bruises loosen up. I’ll run it for you.”
You watched her adjust the temperature, adding a handful of Epsom salts from a jar on the shelf, the kind her mom swore by for muscle aches. Steam began to rise, filling the small bathroom with a soft herbal scent. She helped you out of the rest of the suit, careful with every movement, her touch never lingering in a way that felt anything but caring. Once you were settled in the water, the heat sinking into your sore muscles making you groan loudly, as she sat on the edge of the tub.
“Better?” she asked.
You let your head fall back against the cool tile. “A thousand times better. You’re magic with this stuff.”
She smiled, small and relieved. “Years of watching Mom patch up patients. Plus I like taking care of you. Even when you show up looking like you lost a fight with a building.”
You laughed softly, the sound turning into a wince as your ribs protested. “Feels like I did. But having you here makes it worth it.”
She stayed with you while the water worked, talking quietly about her day to keep your mind off the pain,. You listened, letting her voice wash over you the same way the water did, steady and warm. When the bath started to cool she helped you out, drying you with a big fluffy towel, her hands moving slow and sure over your skin since you were kinda wobbly on your feet.
She led you to her bedroom next she had the bed was made with soft blue sheets that smelled like her laundry detergent. She pulled back the covers and you slid in carefully, the mattress dipping under your weight.
“Come here,” you said, patting the spot beside you.
Sophia didn’t hesitate. She climbed in fully dressed, curling against your good side, one arm sliding carefully around your waist to avoid the worst of the bruises. Her head tucked under your chin like it had been made to fit there. “You’re safe now,” she whispered. “No more swinging tonight. Just stay right here with me.”
You turned your face toward hers, brushing your lips against her forehead. “I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”
She tilted her head up and caught your mouth in a kiss, slow and careful, the kind that said everything words could not. Her lips were soft, tasting faintly of the mint tea she had sipped earlier. You kissed her back just as gently finally forgetting about the damn ache in your muscles and you sighed into it you deepened the kiss even more as her tongue brushing yours once, twice, sending a warm spark through you that had nothing to do with pain and everything to do with how much you needed her close.
When you finally pulled back for air she rested her forehead against yours. “I was so worried dont do that shit again” she said as she flicked your nose. “Ouch!” she laughed before you silenced her by dipping down kissing the tip of her nose, then her cheek, then the corner of her mouth. “Fine fine I’ll do my best”
She smiled against your lips and kissed you again, longer this time, her hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck. You let your fingers tangle in her hair, loosening the bun until it spilled dark and soft over the pillow. You broke the kiss only to trail your lips along her jaw, down to the soft spot just below her ear. “You smell good” you murmured before burying your face in her neck
She laughed softly, the sound vibrating against your chest. “You say the sweetest things when you’re half-broken. But I like it. I like all of you, even the parts that show up bloody on my balcony.”
You kissed her again, deeper this time, the kind of kiss that lingered her hand rested over your heart, feeling the rhythm calm under her palm. You could have stayed like that for hours, just kissing her, letting the world outside disappear. She pulled back after a while, eyes half-lidded and soft, and pressed a quick peck to the corner of your split lip.
“Does that hurt?” she asked.
“Not when you’re doing it,” you answered honestly.
She kissed you once more, lighter, then settled her head back on your chest. “Tell me something good,” she said. “Something that has nothing to do with fights or hospitals or bruises. I want to fall asleep thinking about normal stuff with you.”
You thought for a second, fingers still playing with her hair. “Remember the first day you sat next to me in class? I was doodling those stupid webs in my notebook and you didn’t even blink. You just leaned over and asked about Spider-Woman like it was the most normal thing in the world. I think that’s when I knew I was in trouble. In the best way.”
Sophia’s fingers traced idle patterns on your arm. “I knew the second I saw those doodles. They looked alive, like you were drawing something you understood in your bones. And the way you talked about the silk proteins, all excited and rambling… I wanted to hear more. I still do. Every day.”
You tilted your head to kiss her temple. “You’re the only person who ever listens like that. Like my tangents are interesting instead of weird.”
“They are interesting,” she insisted, lifting up just enough to kiss you again, slow and thorough, her lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache in a completely different way. “You’re interesting. The way your brain works, the way you care so much about things most people ignore. I love that about you.”
You kissed her deeper in response, pouring everything into it, the relief of being here, the gratitude, the quiet joy of having someone who saw all of you and stayed.When the kisses finally eased you both lay tangled together with your lips kinda swollen, with her leg draped carefully over yours, your good arm wrapped around her back as she snuggled into you. The fairy lights cast soft golden patterns across the ceiling.
“You make me feel safe too,” you told her quietly. “Even when everything else is chaos. I swing around out there thinking im alone, but then I get to come here and you patch me up and kiss me like none of it matters as long as I’m breathing”
Sophia lifted her head again, eyes shining in the low light. “It does matter. You matter. But yeah, as long as you come back to me, we can handle the rest.” She leaned in and kissed you once more
She pulled back with a small smile. “Close your eyes now. I’ve got you. No more swinging until those ribs feel better. I’ll make breakfast in the morning, something easy, and we can finish the last slides on the project if you’re up for it. Or we can just stay in bed and kiss some more. Your choice.”
You chuckled softly, the sound warm in your chest. “Both sound perfect. But right now I just want to keep kissing you until I fall asleep.”
She had no qualms with that as her mouth immediately finding yours again in a series of slow, gentle presses that turned into longer, deeper kisses, making sure she didnt resplit your lip and make you start bleeding. Each one felt like a blanket being pulled higher, wrapping you tighter in safety.
You lost track of how many times your lips met, how many quiet sighs she gave against your mouth, how many times she whispered your name like it was something precious.
“I’m glad you came here,” she murmured one last time, voice thick with drowsiness.
“Me too,” you whispered back. “Best decision I ever made.”
Pairing: adhd Spider woman reader x Sophia Laforteza
Warnings: Smut, praise kink, titty worship,cum eating,strap reffered to as cock, rough sex?,sophia is a pillow princess,increased stamina,soft sex also?,humor, happy ending
word count:2.7k
a/n: WRITTEN FOR MY LOVE, MY PRECIOUS 🪼 ANON
Request is here
pt 2
The late afternoon sun poured through the classroom windows in long golden bars, turning floating dust motes into tiny sparkling stars above the rows of desks. You sat near the back, third row from the window, your leg bouncing steadily under the table in that familiar restless rhythm that never quite settled.
Your notebook lay open in front of you, half-filled with notes on mitosis and cytokinesis, the margins crowded with tight spiraling web patterns that seemed to crawl across the page like living things. Your way to many pens lay strewn around you.
The teacher’s voice carried on about point mutations and frameshifts, steady and calm, but your mind kept slipping back to your night before and the sharp thrill of webbing a speeding getaway car to a lamppost, the rush of city lights blurring past as you swung between rooftops, your heart pounding so hard it felt like it might crack your ribs open as you barely escaped being seen by the cops
You hardly registered the new girl until Mrs. Alvarez called out her name.
“Sophia Laforteza,” the teacher said, pointing to the empty chair right next to you. “You’ll be working with our resident science nut here.”
Sophia turned, her dark hair falling like a curtain, and smiled at you with a small, easy smile that settled in your chest. She gathered her belongings, a tidy notebook with a spiral binding, a black pen, and a water bottle with a cartoon fox sticker that was peeling at the corner, and plopped down into the chair next to you without a second thought.
You hardly registered the new girl until Mrs. Alvarez called out her name.
“Sophia Laforteza,” the teacher said, pointing to the empty chair right next to you. “You’ll be working with our resident science nut here.”
Sophia turned, her dark hair falling like a curtain, and smiled at you with a small, easy smile that settled in your chest. She gathered her belongings, a tidy notebook with a spiral binding, a black pen, and a water bottle with a cartoon fox sticker that was peeling at the corner, and plopped down into the chair next to you without a second thought.
“Habit mostly,” you said, “keeps my hands busy so they don’t start vibrating off my arms or something.”
Her laugh came out soft and surprised, like she hadn’t expected to enjoy the sound of her own voice mixing with yours. “I get that, my leg does the same thing during long tests, just bounces forever.”
The teacher had already moved on, projecting the project guidelines onto the screen in bold Comic Sans nobody had bothered to change since 2012, forty percent of the semester grade, genetic mutations, real-world or fictional applications allowed,10-12 minute presentation due in two weeks. You felt Sophia lean in just slightly to read over your shoulder, her perfume drifting into your space, light citrus blended with warm vanilla, and for three full seconds nothing else in the room existed.
When the pairing instructions wrapped up, she didn’t pull her chair back. Instead she tilted her head toward your notes again.
“So, any ideas already?”
You shrugged, trying to keep it casual even as your knee picked up another notch of speed. “I was thinking something with superheroes maybe, how mutations in comics and movies sort of mirror real genetic changes, radiation accidents, spider bites, gamma rays turning people into rage monsters, that kind of thing, it’s fun and I’ve… read way too much about it already.”
Her eyes brightened instantly. “Spider-Man?”
“Spider-Woman technically,” you corrected before you could stop yourself, “but yeah either works, the spider thing is cool, silk proteins, tensile strength, all that.”
Sophia nodded slowly gave you a sort of odd look at your correction of spider man, but then shales her head. “I like it a lot, makes it way less boring than doing sickle-cell or Down syndrome for the hundredth time.”
You laughed too loud again, felt the heat crawl up your neck, but she just smiled wider, like the volume didn’t bother her at all.
By the end of the period you had a rough outline typed into a shared Google Doc, introduction to mutations, real examples like albinism in animals and antibiotic resistance in bacteria, fictional parallels with Peter Parker, Bruce Banner, maybe even Matt Murdock’s heightened senses, the conclusion was about ethics and responsibility. Sophia typed almost as fast as you talked, jumping on every tangent without ever losing the thread, asking sharp follow-up questions that proved she was really listening, which kind of shocked you as no one really paid much attention to your tangents half the time.
When the bell rang she stayed seated for a second longer than everyone else.
“So,” she said, closing her laptop with a soft click, “we doing this at your place or mine?”
“Mine,” you answered immediately, “my parents work pretty late, it’s pretty quiet.”
“Perfect,” she said, standing and slinging her bag over one shoulder. “Text me your address?”
You nodded, already pulling out your phone, fingers shaking just a tiny bit as you typed the street number.
Walking home together felt strangely natural.
Santa Monica in late spring carried that perfect mix of salt air and warm pavement, palm trees swaying lazily overhead, the sun still high enough to heat your shoulders through your hoodie. You always walked fast, legs eating up sidewalk without thinking about it, but Sophia matched your stride effortlessly, sneakers scuffing in perfect rhythm with yours. Conversation rolled out easier, no awkward pauses and you somehow managed to hold yourself back from interrupting her which you mentally high fived yourself for doing.
“You really know a ton about spiders,” she said after you launched into a three-minute ramble about how orb-weaver silk is five times stronger than steel by weight and still flexible enough to catch prey without snapping.
“They’re efficient,” you told her, “no wasted energy, build exactly what they need then wait, patient, precise, kind of beautiful when you think about it.”
She glanced sideways at you, eyes catching the late light. “You sound like you admire them a lot.”
“I do,” you admitted with a small shrug, “plus the swinging thing would be pretty sick.”
She laughed again, that bright unguarded sound that made something in your chest loosen. “You talk about it like you’ve actually done it.”
You swallowed hard, flexed your fingers to push down the itch in your palms. “Just imagination, late-night Wikipedia holes mostly.”
“Uh-huh,” she teased, bumping your shoulder lightly with hers. “You’re kind of mysterious you know that?Its adorable”
Your cheeks flushed a bit “Uh thanks?”
The rest of the walk slipped by in comfortably, her favorite horror movie was Hereditary because the dinner scene still haunted her dreams, you both hated group projects that turned into one person doing ninety percent of the work, she had transferred because her mom got a new nursing job at a hospital downtown and the commute from the valley wasnt worth it.
When you reached your house, a low white bungalow two short blocks from the beach, a small flicker of nerves sparked in your stomach, not about the project exactly, more about her stepping into your space, seeing the real version of you.
You led her through the front door, past the living room with its mismatched thrift-store couch and the ancient coffee table covered in science magazines, into the kitchen where sunlight spilled across the wide table in warm pools. You dumped your backpack, pulled out snacks, chips, a bag of sour gummies, two cans of sparkling water, spread everything across the table like a small offering.
Sophia dropped into a chair, already opening her laptop. “Okay, let’s make this thing actually good.”
You worked for hours, real work, not the fake kind where people scroll and pretend to research. You traded sections back and forth, fact-checked each other, argued gently about whether the Incredible Hulk’s transformation could count as a beneficial mutation or just a catastrophic one. She laughed every time you got excited and started talking with your hands flying everywhere, you caught yourself staring when she tucked her hair behind her ear and chewed her bottom lip while reading a dense paragraph.
Around 6:30 the rough draft was done, fourteen slides, proper citations, even a stupid meme slide you both agreed to keep because it made you laugh whenever you saw it.
You leaned back in your chair, stretching until your spine popped satisfyingly. “We actually finished early.”
Sophia closed her laptop with a satisfied little click. “We’re good together.”
The kitchen had gone quiet except for the low hum of the fridge and the distant steady roll of waves through the open window. She looked at you, really looked, and the air between you shifted, not dramatically, just warmer, heavier in the best way.
“Your parents really not home till late?” she asked.
“Probably nine, maybe later if the shift runs long.”
She nodded slowly. “Cool if I stay a bit? No rush to get home.”
Your heart did the flip it usually saved for the moment right before a big swing. “Yeah, definitely cool.”
You didn’t plan to end up in your bedroom. The original idea was the living room, some dumb Netflix movie, popcorn, casual hanging out. But when you stood to grab another drink she stood too, and followed you down the short hallway without saying anything. When you pushed your bedroom door open, messy unmade bed, posters of city skylines taped crookedly to the wall, one very faded Spider-Woman comic cover thumbtacked above the desk, she stepped inside like she belonged there.
The door clicked shut behind you.
You turned. She was closer than you expected
“Hey,” she said softly.
“Hey yourself.”
The first kiss happened like it had been waiting since third period.
Slow at first, tentative, lips brushing carefully, testing the shape of each other. Then her fingers curled into the front of your shirt and tugged you closer, and slow turned hungry fast. You backed her toward the bed until her calves hit the mattress, she sank down willingly, pulling you with her so you ended up braced over her, knees bracketing her hips, weight held on your forearms.
You broke apart just long enough to breathe, foreheads resting together.
“You’ve been thinking about this,” she whispered.
“Since you sat next to me,” you admitted, voice rough around the edges. “Maybe before.”
She smiled against your mouth. “Same.” as you made out with her for minutes which felt like delicious hours
When you finally pulled back with swollen lips and flushed face clothes came off slowly, reverently, like unwrapping. Her shirt a soft pale blue cotton sliding over her head. You kissed the newly bared skin of her collarbone making her sigh and goosebumps break out across her skin, and then her shoulder, then the gentle swell above her bra. When you unhooked it and let it fall away she shivered even though the room felt warm.
Your mouth found her breast, soft, warm, perfect, you took your time, slow circles with your tongue, gentle suction, then a little more pressure when she arched up, god you could stay burried in these all fucking day.
“Harder please”
"m'kay princess"
She tasted faintly sweet, like the vanilla in her perfume had soaked into her skin as you complied with her order. Every small sound she made as you followed her request made you want to nut on the spot, and every hitch of breath, every quiet moan felt like permission, like a reward and you were damn well gonna earn it.
You kissed lower, across the stomach, the hip bones, the spot where her thigh met torso. When you hooked your fingers in the waistband of her underwear you paused, and looked up at her with the biggest puppy eyes ever.
“Can I?” you asked looking up at her
Her nod was immediate, eager. “P-please.”
You peeled them down her legs, kissing every new inch of skin you uncovered. When you finally settled between her thighs and dragged your tongue along her, long slow deliberate, her hips jerked hard off the bed.
“Oh fuck—” she let out a pornographic sound that most likely woke the neighboorhood.
You held her open right there with easy strength, palms flat against the insides of her thighs, keeping her spread while you worked her over, like you had years , and just the taste of her, the way her breath hitched every time your tongue circled her clit made you groan ,as you licked and sucked till she was writhing and you felt the way her fingers twisted in your hair as she held on for dear life while you continued eating her out.
The first orgasm hit her fast and hard, she gasped your name, her thighs trembled and , a sudden rush of wet heat against your tongue and you swallowed it down. You didn’t stop, licked her through the aftershocks, gentler now, soothing, until she was whimpering, oversensitive, and tugging you upward.
You crawled back up her body, kissed her deep so she could taste herself on your lips. She moaned into your mouth,
“Y’have to many clothes on” she pouted as she started to undress you hands fumbling at your clothes until you were both naked.
When you reached for the drawer, the harness, the strap she had seen you glance at earlier, her eyes darkened with clear interest.
“You want that?” you asked, voice low.
“Yeah,” she bit her lip. “Want you to fuck me with it.”
You took your time buckling it on, let her watch every movement. The silicone was smooth, dark, realistically veined. When you settled between her thighs again you rubbed the tip along her folds first, teasing, coating it in her slick.
“Ready baby?”
She nodded, legs falling open wider. “Please.”
You pushed in slowly, watching her face the whole time. Her mouth dropped open on a silent gasp, nails digging into your shoulders which you barely registered.
“Fuck it’s big,” she breathed.
“You’re taking it so well,” you murmured, bottoming out. “Look at you, so fucking perfect.”
You started gentle, long thrusts that let her adjust, but when she rocked up to meet you, the last thread of your paper thin restraint snapped.
You fucked her deep and steady, hips snapping against her ass, her tits bounced with every thrust, you couldn’t resist leaning down to suck fresh bruises into them while you fucked.
“So pretty like this,” you rasped against her skin. “Just laying there letting me take you apart.”
She moaned high and broken. “Yes your cock feels so good—fuck”
You sensed her second orgasm building fast. When it hit she squirted hard, hot messy, soaking your thighs and the sheets. You groaned at the sight, fucked her through it until she was babbling, glassy-eyed, trembling all over.
“Thats so fucking hot soph”
You flipped her onto her stomach. She stayed soft pliant, ass up just enough for you to slide back in from behind. You gripped her hips and pounded into her, watching the way she melted into the mattress with every thrust.
“Good girl,” you praised, reaching around to circle her clit. “Taking it so deep, my perfect princess.”
She came again like that with muffled cries and her body shaking so hard you were pretty sure that the bed had started to rock.
You turned her onto her back once more because you needed to see her face her legs wrapped around your waist, your mouth on her breasts since you couldnt get enough of them, as you thrusted into her fast and deep.
“Look at me,” you said softly. “Let me watch you fall apart.”
Her eyes locked on yours, wide hazy trusting her mouth opening and closing as she failed to put what she was feeling into coherent words. The final orgasm ripped through her, back arching, squirting again, a string of broken pleas leaving her.
You slowed down but only when she went completely limp beneath you, with her chest heaving, and the small aftershocks still rolling through her body.
You eased outof her carefully, unbuckled the harness threw it on the ground, walked into the bathroom and came back with a warm cloth which you gently wiped her with before wiping yourself down and, then gathering her against your chest. She curled into you immediately, face tucked under your jaw, one leg thrown over yours.
“That was…” She laughed weakly. “I think you broke my brain.”
You kissed her temple. “You were fucking incredible, letting go like that, beautiful.”
She snuggled closer. “You’re kind of intense.”
“Only when I really want someone.” you blushed
A sleepy smile curved her lips. “Good thing I really want you too.”
a/n: super happy abt this one i kinda wanna make it a series
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✯✒ Plot: The girls always dreamed of kissing their partner under the mistletoe and now that they were taken, they will be getting that kiss
✯✒ Tags: fluff, everyone's so soft it hurts, calm x hyperactive (the girls are really full of energy), let's all take a shot for every time i say mistletoe
✯✒ Notes: Merry Christmas to anyone who celebrates!! this is kind of rushed because I wanted to be able to post it in time for Christmas but I still think it turned out okay!
✯✒ Word count: 3.1k
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The mistletoe.
Not only a decoration, but one of the many existing Christmas traditions. A tradition as old as time, most people don't even know how it was born or why it exists, but they nonetheless hung them in their house and followed the rule.
The rule being: 'If two people find themselves under the same mistletoe they have to kiss'. Simple as that.
Some people (like you) found it corny, a cliché element in Christmas movies and another gimmick used to cling to the Christmas spirit. You didn't actively hate it, you let your girlfriend hung it wherever possible since she seemed so exited about it; but you also wouldn't act on the tradition.
While other people (for example your girlfriend) found it really cute. And would actually try anything to get kissed under the mistletoe by their partner.
Lara has a plan.
A plan she sets in motion as soon as you take out the box full of decorations. She passes you the lights and the balls while you hang them on the tree and around the house with her as the judge.
You tried asking her why she wanted to stick to just handing you things, she answered by saying that you were able to reach higher places and it would just be quicker this way. You had no reason to suspect her logic, not reason to suspect that sher goal was keeping you away from the box at all times.
She leaves the mistletoe for last, hidden under piles of Christmas lights, and waits for you to be on the ladder and fiddling with the tape to put it in your hand.
Your twirl it around in your free hand, eyes scanning the fake plant "how am i supposed to hang this?"
"The leaves facing down" her teeth dig into her lower lip, sly smile spreading slowly "thought you should do something before that"
You check the ornament, it doesn't seem to have any missing parts that you might have to fix and the ladder was in the right position- the position Lara chose. "what?"
She waves her hand around, like you couldn't know what she meant and shakes her head "get down"
Once you're in front of her you put the mistletoe in her open hand, but instead she grasps your elbow and moves it so the plant hovers between the two of you.
"Kiss me" she answers finally, head tilted to the side as her smile is now impossibly big and you're met with her white teeth
You raise your eyebrows but don't fight against the warm touch on your sweater "really?"
She nods without breaking eye contact "it's the tradition, you can't break a tradition"
"Sure, the tradition" your tone is skeptical, but your arm wraps around her waist anyway and you lean down to put your lips on hers.
If she really cared about the tradition she would have stopped after the first peck, as that's all the tradition requires. Instead, her arms wrap around your shoulders to pull you down- closer to her, while her lips press harder against yours to deepen the kiss.
Lara pulls away only once she's sure she broke you and that you'd have no objection of kissing her under the mistletoe next time she asks. She removes your hands form her waist and closes your fingers around the mistletoe to make a point.
"Now you can hang it up"
The light sting caused by the leaves brings you back down to earth.
"So I have to kiss you every time I enter the kitchen?" you ask with a smile, nose still brushing hers. Her lips spread into a wide grin once again.
"You learn fast I see, good job baby"
Megan, on the other hand, is very easy to read.
And precisely for this reason, it is really fun to tease her.
She'd stand under every mistletoe, talking like she didn't know, like she was casually standing in the doorway even when you were on the other side of the room. Then she proceeded with grabby hands and the cutest smile that always made you fold when you didn't fall into her trap. But not now.
You'd act oblivious, pretending to do something with your back towards her so you wouldn't see her, then you'd start teasing "why are you talking so far away? I can't hear you"
She - predictably - was the first one to give in.
"Oh come on, let me have this"
Her whine stops the conversation you were having, faux innocence and interest where she was once again trying to get you to stand next to her under the mistletoe. You turn your head in time to see her smile softening until it becomes a pout.
"Have what, Meimei?
You dry your hands on the towel to your right and lean back onto the counter, arms going to cross over your chest to properly enjoy your girlfriend's despair.
"You know what" she knows you are just teasing her, and that somehow makes it worse. Her pout deepens, bottom lip coming forward.
Your hips stay attached to the marble, smirk widening "I'm not sure I know what you mean, why don't you just say it?"
With a grunt, she finally surrenders.
"I want you to kiss me under the mistletoe. And you know it"
This time, you don't even try to deny it "yes I know"
You cross the room in four wide steps, leaning one hand on the doorway once you're standing in front of her.
"That's why you were acting so whiny? For a kiss under the mistletoe? I always kiss you" your fingers brush a lock of hair out of her face and take its place, holding her cheek in the palm of your hand. Even though such an action would normally make her short-circuit, this time it doesn't stop her whining.
"Yes but it's different, it's more magical. And don't act like you kissed me already because you didn-"
You don't let her finish, using the hold on her face to bring her closer to you. She doesn't mind- she doesn't mind at all. In fact, the happy sound she releases as soon as her lips touch yours shows that she couldn't care less about being interrupted.
Her breathing stops and her hands find support on your shoulders, squeezing tightly to let all the energy the simple touch generated out. Even after you pull away the blissful expression on her face remains.
"Happy now?"
Her eyes are still closed like she has yet to process the kiss. But the response is immediate. Negative.
"Not yet. One more? Please?"
"I'm pretty sure it's one kiss for each mistletoe.
"I don't care" she shakes her head, her hands tapping repeatedly on your shoulders "come on, I'm saying please?"
This time you really can't resist her pout "okay okay" you concede with a playful roll of your eyes, pulling her in for a second kiss that might escalate into more.
As long as the mistletoe is in the house you never refuse her request, but you always make her work for it.
If Megan is transparent, Manon is the complete opposite.
She plans it, like Lara did. But unlike her, she waits.
You helped her with the decorations, you know where the mistletoes are and she can't risk you anticipating her moves so she waits for the perfect occasion. She needs a moment when you're distracted enough to forget about it.
That's why a week later, you don't see it coming.
"I'm going out now, I'll see you soon" you call out from the door way with your body curled into yourself as you hastily put your shoes on. Every supermarket was about to close but Manon just remembered she wanted a specific dessert for dinner, and if you want her to have it- you have to run. So you don't wait for her to respond and start running towards your car.
"Wait! Come here for a second!"
Manon's voice can be heard from outside, and despite the fact that you should really get going, you turn on your heels and start making your way back. Your hands dig into every pocket on your body to make sure you're not forgetting anything: your phone is in the jacket pocket, your wallet is lodged in your back pocket and you can hear your car keys jingle with every step you take.
When your girlfriend stops outside the door empty handed your confusion only grows.
"Did I forget anything?"
She makes a face like she doesn't know how to explain it before the tip of her nose points to the mistletoe hanging in the air. When she turns to look at you she seems almost guilty "kind of?"
You follow her line of sight, your eyebrows instinctively rising up when your eyes meet the plastic leaves "really, now?"
She helplessly shrugs and at the back of your mind you wonder if she really thinks she's selling this lie "it happened now" she takes on single step down the stairs so she can be eye level with you but still be under the mistletoe "you can't back down, it's bad luck not to kiss"
"Oh is it really?"
With one more step in her direction she reaches for your jacket, adjusting its collar so you wouldn't be cold on your way to the supermarket "we wouldn't want the door not to open when you come back" Manon has to look away not to laugh in your face at her own words, while your mouth hangs open in shock.
"Are you threatening me? Should I be scared?" your tone is higher than normal and this time she can't stop the small shakes of her shoulders as she starts laughing
"Not me" she says after a bit, breathing in check and mission back on "the mistletoe"
You stare at her, before taking the last step that takes you to stand in front of Manon "just because I don't want any bad luck before Christmas" you whisper and a second later your lips meet the idol's.
Your fingers get lost in her loose hair while her hands tighten around your jacket, not caring about the quick escalation of the kiss or the cold air entering the house right this moment.
She pulls back a minute later with a bite to your bottom lip, enjoying how you try to pull her back for more.
"Now go." her voice lost all the confidence, replaced by pure softness "I want my dessert."
And you both know that when you'll be back, she will be waiting outside for another kiss.
You didn't think Daniela cared about the mistletoe.
Not a single one is hung anywhere in your house and although you are completely unbothered by its absence, you remember the latina mentioning while you two were still just friends how it was something she would have eventually wanted to try when she got a partner. The thought soon slipped your mind, too caught up in organizing Christmas dates and the little gifts you had planned for Daniela all throughout December.
So you ended up not asking her about it. Something Dani found very convenient: if you didn't expect it, she could film the perfect video.
Her phone is leaning on the wall under the mirror while she fixes her make up. The bathroom's door is open, so you don't bother knocking.
"Are you ready?"
She turns her head side to side to check if her eyeliner is even before answering "almost" seeing you stand on the doorway almost makes her regret not hanging the mistletoe there "come here amor, don't be shy"
You eye the phone for a second "I thought you were live" you explain, but enter anyway
"Oh no I'm just recording the process" she dismesses it quickly to guide your attention away from it "you know I wouldn't have minded, anyway" she kisses your cheek, long square-shaped nails scraping your cheekbone.
She puts her eyeliner away and messes with her make-up bag for a while, putting everything she used in its place. When she turns so her whole body faces you you don't notice the mistletoe hidden under it.
"How do I look?"
You don't miss a beat. "you always look gorgeous"
She bites her lip, both regretting setting you a trap (she doesn't regret it one bit) and also being very glad she was recording this moment.
"No lipstick tonight?"
She shakes her head, hand itching closer to her make-up bag "not yet. You'll ruin it"
"Why would I?"
"Because you have to kiss me"
In one swift motion she freed the mistletoe and is now letting it hang in between you two. Though with her height is more accurate to say that it was above her head and next to yours. You put your weight on one hand on the sink, bringing your face closer to hers as a result. Unbeknownst to you the movement made the phone move slightly to the right; but luckily for Daniela you two were still in frame.
"Ah, see I did find it weird you didn't hang them around the house"
Her teeth stop digging into her bottom lip only when your thumb frees it, her eyes literally shining upon seeing your smile matching hers. She literally has to force herself to stop smiling to be able to kiss you properly, but after a few kisses it doesn't matter anymore- your teeth are touching and you have to stop every few seconds because Daniela breaks into a fit of giggles.
Eventually you just give up, holding her in your arms while she continues to snicker without a real reason. The leaves brush your cheek as her hands caress your neck.
"Ready to go now?"
"No, now I have to put lipstick on"
Later, Daniela posts the video with the caption "got em 💋"
marz: omg I love them
sophgf: mama y papa
jser158: "you always look gorgeous" yeah okay Dani we get it you got a good one
danisgf: me next please
The thing with Sophia was: you knew she was hiding something, but you couldn't figure out what.
Sophia is a normally loud person, so when she tries to hide something from anyone..she doesn't do a perfect job. Since you decorated the house for Christmas (she handled the house while you took care of the tree- her decision) she has been giving you little smirks like she knew something you didn't; or she'd giggle by herself while you moved around the house. You'd roll your eyes when she would answer your questions with 'nothing' and ultimately stopped paying attention to it.
But now the problem was, Sophia was on the verge of giving up.
She planted those mistletoes everywhere, under every doorway and under every high surface around the house and yet? not a single kiss. It's not that you were refusing her, she wasn't receiving kisses under the mistletoe because...she wasn't asking for them. You told her earlier that year how you felt about them, the indifference regarding the whole tradition and she made it her Christmas goal to get a kiss the natural way.
She'd ask you to fetch her something in the other room but didn't have enough time to follow you that you were already back, confused smile on those un-kissed lips when you'd witness her scowl. Or when you two did end up under the mistletoe you would just end up moving out of the way to let her pass.
She had to change her tactics.
"Mahal? Can you come here? I need advice"
Your head pokes from behind the couch at the sound of her voice, and immediately pause your game to reach your bedroom.
"Advice about what?
Your feet stop you in the middle of the hallway as soon as you spot your girlfriend. Tight sweater with a mini skirt that grants you the view of her long legs and knee high boots. You suddenly feel undressed in your own home.
"What do you think about the fit?" she accompanies the question with a little twirl.
Maybe using your weakness (her body) to get what she wants is a desperate move, but reached that state days ago and doesn't care anymore. And it's not like you aren't enjoying this.
Sophia rests her back against the door way so you have no choice but to stand under the mistletoe too, if you want to be close to her.
Surely enough, you don't waste any time to wrap your hands around the sliver of skin left uncovered by the sweater "Are you going anywhere?"
She shrugs and tilts her head to the side, but doesn't answer your question; instead lets the words hang in the air, letting you get lost in the moment- in her eyes.
Only when you lean down does she speak up "are you about to kiss me because I look good?"
"Uh" you hesitate, not sure how one should even respond to that "not..only because of that? I like kissing you in general..?" it sounds more like a question, but Sophia doesn't seem to mind.
"Are you sure there's no other reason?" when you don't respond she points to the door with her head "look up"
It takes a minute for your brain to catch up, caught into a staring contest with the plastic plant before a light bulb turns on in your head.
"Is that what these things are?" you mutter after a while, and when you lower your head she's already looking at you with those big pleading brown eyes. You already know you can't say no "so what? Do we have to kiss now?"
Sophia just nods, bangs going everywhere on her forehead.
She meets you halfway, lips wrapping around yours with certainty and excitement in equal measure. The wood of the door digs uncomfortably in her upper back but she doesn't care, as long as that mistletoe stands in between you two.
When the kiss ends, she's still as giddy as she was when she took the decorations out of the box.
"Did you seriously dress up just for this?" she laughs, because she knows it would be obvious, and still doesn't fully believe it was necessary
"Believe me when I say I ran out of options" she answers, voice gaining a higher pitch at the incredulity of this whole situation. Her plump lips form a beautiful pout that you can't help but kiss away
"Well..since you're already dressed up. May I take you out on a date?"
Continuation to this, this one needed its own post
✯✒Tags: (18+), gn!r, established relationship, oral (D receiving), soft and slow
Your hands are on her waist, the pads of your fingers causing little shocks of electricity to run down her spine whenever they touch her midriff or under the swell of her breasts; her twitching abs react to your caresses like they're asking for more.
Daniela's warm. Sun kissed. You can feel the heat on your cheeks every time you lay a kiss on her skin, each slower than the last, tasting the salt of the sea clinging to her. You're jealous of the sun that kissed her body the whole day- that's why you're reclaiming her. And now you're the sole reason why her face is flushed.
"Amor" she sighs, one hand coming to run through your hair while the other cups your face. She moves it so you're looking up at her.
The look she gives you is pure trust and anticipation, soft features contrasting the rapid movements of her chest. Your chin rests on her lower stomach before turning your head to kiss her open palm.
The whole day was spent running after each other on the hot sand, splashing one another and drinking acapulcos; but now the sun is long gone, replaced by a bright crescent moon and you're finally back home, loud laughs making room for quiet smiles in the comfort of familiarity. And the dinner reservation isn't for another two hours.
You guide her to the middle of the hotel room, still on your knees, until she leans on the back of the couch. One hand resting next to her hip to support her body.
Your hands move down, from her ankles all the way up to the back of her thighs, mapping a body you know all too well- her legs almost hit you in the chest when they shake involuntarily. Your nose bumps against the silver chains attached to her skirt as you kiss the hem of it, not wanting to tease but wanting to savour every moment with her.
Daniela, however, seems to think differently as her sighs quickly turn into whines and the nails caressing your scalp turn the slightest bit more firm. "Please, amor?"
Her eyes meet yours - eyebrows furrowed and mouth agape - you can't deny her anymore.
You make quick work of her skirt, letting it pool at her feet and your girlfriend almost sighs in relief. Your lips make contact with her inner thighs but it's not long before you move away to look at her once again "can I?"
She doesn't hesitate to nod when your fingers hook into her panties, already damp with anticipation, and takes a sharp breath once they meet the ground. As per your silent command she hooks a leg over your shoulder, panties around her ankle and forcing you deeper onto the hardwood floor; but you can't even begin to complain when Daniela's pussy is right in front of you.
Despite the temptation, you start by kissing her inner thighs right next to where she needs you and she doesn't know if the moan that escapes her is one of frustration or pleasure. Maybe both.
You keep this up for a minute, kissing and softly biting the skin there, only letting your nose graze her core every now and then all while your arms stay around her legs to keep her close to you. As if she could ever want differently.
Daniela might hate the denial but she can't hide her labored breathing, how her hips twitch forward every time you almost touch her there. But you know her, you know that as soon you take her clit into your mouth - the latina is nearly at her breaking point. Her high pitched whine is nothing but proof.
She starts rocking her hips more, using the hold on your hair to bring you closer, nails digging into your scalp and into the couch cushions behind her. She's so engrossed by your tongue licking all over her that she doesn't feel your fingers approaching her hole until one is already inside.
"A-amor" she calls for you - she doesn't know what for - you're right there, on your knees in front of her "my love" but she needs you, more of you, closer.
You look up to her just as you add a second finger and start moving them how she likes, slow and hard. Daniela has to refrain from throwing her head back so as not to break eye contact.
By the time you add a third finger she can't help but look away, the sound of your hand going in and out of her almost takes over her moans- and that only helps in making her ears redder. Her whines are now either cuss words or a cry of your name, beginning you to keep going just a little more.
The hand that was previously on the couch lands on yours where you were drawing circles on her hip to calm her down, silently demanding to hold you. You grant her her wish, intertwining your fingers and rubbing your thumb over her skin.
"You can let go baby. I'm right here"
She comes with a silent scream - the beach day probably robbed her of her voice - and closes her eyes while her body keeps on moving on its own accord, helped by your tongue still licking her excess. Her normal taste is enhanced by the sea water but you unfortunately have to pull away when her hand weakly presses against your forehead to push you away.
As soon as you're back on your feet she brings you into a hug, her whole body touching yours and arms around your shoulders as her nails graze your neck. Your hands run up and down her back, giggling whenever she shivers
"come on" you untangle from her to take her hand and pull her in the direction of the bathroom "let's go take a shower"
I know I'm late to the party but I literally can't stop thinking about it so! (gn!r, established relationship, suggestive? towards the end)
Tour is finally over and as much as it was the time of her life Daniela can't wait to go somewhere far away only you and her.
If you thought your girlfriend was loud and hyperactive then you've never seen her at the beach. She's waking you up at the crack of dawn because she wants to see the sun rise and doesn't want to go home until the sun is completely out. she drags you everywhere: walks by the sea with the cold drink she begged asked you to get for her (she could have bought it herself but the bar was just tooo far and why would she have to walk when she has you?), dragging you into the water to relax or splash you with water- but don't you dare do it to her, not before she can take millions of pictures for her insta.
Half of the pictures are selfies but the other half are pictures you're 'forced' to take for her "come on baby please only a couple more" "Dani we've been here for over an hour and I haven't even touched the sand yet" "then take better pictures so we can go" Once the torture is finally over you have full permission to pick her up over her shoulder and throw her into the water- though she will cuss you out while laughing loudly and trying to break free
Daniela is at risk of falling asleep while tanning so you always have to keep an eye out on her so she doesn't get sunburnt. but Daniela is very careful when it comes to her skin, sunscreen every two hours. But she's not the one doing it. She doesn't even ask with words, just lifts the bottle up to her face and tilts her head to the side "please?" She can put it on herself? oh no absolutely not, she can't read her book with her hands dirty so you have to put it on her cheeks, shoulders, tummy, lower back, thighs- and doesn't let you go until you're a flustered mess (keep looking at her like that and she might have to rent a private beach for the two of you)
✯✒ Plot: Sophia thinks she's spending her birthday and new year's day without you, but while she's trying not to think about that you're already on a plane to the Philippines
✯✒ Tags: fluff, soft Sophia, established relationship
✯✒ Notes: I literally wrote this last night so bare with me, also I messed up the timestamps in the pics so just go along with what I wrote
✯✒ Word count: 1.8k
7 p.m. 31th December.
Sophia's birthday.
You could still make it in time.
You texted her last night as soon as it hit midnight in the Philippines.
She had responded less than two minutes later, like she was waiting for your text but was taken hostage by her parents and cousins' hugs.
Her text could have seemed dry or petty from an outside perspective, but you knew she couldn't help it. And when the second text came in your heart broke a little.
It was your compromise, one you agreed on years ago to avoid hurt feelings and miscommunication: if for any reason you two could not be together for birthdays or anniversaries you would facetime and be on the phone until one of you fell asleep.
So you missing her birthday wasn't anything new sadly. But saying you wouldn't be able to call her was, and the hurt was evident.
You told her you had a work thing, an event to promote your new album and since it was presented to the public as a winter album you couldn't postpone it.
Sophia understood, of course she did. But only slightly lightened up when you told her you could facetime in time for the new year.
Your phone buzzed in your hand once again.
You hated lying to her, but when your manager told you about the improvised event you weren't sure there was anything you could do. And when you finally found a way to have the next few days off you had already broken the bad news to her.
It hurt your heart to leave her like this, but you couldn't possibly be on the phone with her when you had a plane to the Philippines in a couple of hours, suitcase already packed and waiting for you by the door.
Sighing softly, you replied with a simple 'goodnight, I love you too' and put the phone back in your pocket. You only hoped the surprise was enough to make up for the lying.
The ride to the airport was filled with calm chatter and your friend teasing you for all the strings you had to pull just to be on the other side of the world for your girlfriend's birthday despite being the one offering to take you to the airport. The wait to get on the plane was tiring and the whole flight was... well you wouldn't know since you slept for almost all of it.
And now, almost eighteen hours later - thank you unexpected delays - you finally got off the plane.
No one was there to greet you at the airport; just like you wanted to. Your presence wasn't a complete surprise to everyone, you had told Sophia's mum as soon as you booked the flight so you could make sure that the house wouldn't be empty once you got there. And that there would be enough food to fill your empty stomach.
Her husband offered to come pick you up but you declined since you didn't want Sophia to get suspicious of her dad going out without a proper explanation (you didn't particularly trust him with keeping the secret- but since he apparently got the information from his wife you realized you trusted the wrong parent)
You stretched your arms above your head and looked down at your watch.
7 p.m.
The delayed flight almost destroyed your plans but not your determination.
So, with the map of the city on your phone and a hand written list in your hand, you started grabbing taxis and running around to get whatever you needed. Candies for Sophia's younger relatives, small toys for the pets and a plant for their living room since her mother complained about a 'lack of colour' in the room last time you were over. And of course, a flower bouquet for the most beautiful birthday girl.
You were outside the Laforteza household an hour and a half later.
Your feet were killing you and your fingers were trying not to fall off with all the weight they were carrying. You could finally breathe when Sophia's mum opened the door.
You were met with an older copy of your girlfriend grabbing your arms and bringing you inside. She almost laughed at the amount of bags you were carrying but stopped when she spotted the flowers, heart warming at yet another proof that you were the right one for her daughter.
"The plant is for you, you mentioned green being a good colour for the living room so-" you finished the sentence with a shrug, quickly thanking her when she emptied your hands.
"Thank you honey, it's perfect" her hands skimmed over the delicate leaves, but her figure was soon hidden by her husband.
A wide smile spread onto his face as he brought you into a hug, big hands patting your shoulders before pulling away. "I could have helped you with the bags and got you here earlier if you weren't so stubborn to want to do everything yourself"
You laughed as you mindlessly adjusted your shirt "it's fine really. I didn't want Sophia to suspect anything"
Right on cue, the laugh that stole your heart all those years ago echoed in the living room, causing a smile to unconsciously grow on your lips.
"Speaking of, she knows nothing. Right?"
They both shook their heads, her dad bringing their attention back to the food while her mum put a hand on your chest with a teasing smile "don't even think of helping, you'll help him after you've surprised Sophia and after she forgives you for lying"
You only raised your hands in surrender, laughing at her playful scolding. You sent her a grateful smile and picked the flowers back up.
You slowly walked towards the living room, making sure Sophia wasn't looking at you.
You found her sitting with her back to you. Perfect.
As you made your way into the room the other members of the family started noticing you, but before anyone could talk you held your finger up to your lips and everyone got the memo; getting back to what they were doing and pretending you weren't there.
Sophia was playing with her little niece and making silly faces, so when the little girl started laughing and making grabby hands towards you Sophia didn't think much of it.
You stopped behind her, one hand on the back of her chair as the other went around her body to put the flowers in front of her on the table. Her head jerked back in surprise- your voice made her whole body freeze.
"Am I still on time for the countdown?"
An inhumane squeal left your girlfriend, neck snapping back and mouth wide open like she couldn't believe her eyes. Her chair scraped against the floor in an uncomfortable screech as she hastily got up, wrapping her arms around your shoulders without even a second of hesitation, caging you into a bone-crushing hug.
Her head fell into your neck as she breathed you in, heart beating so loud you could almost feel it thumping against your own ribcage. She smelled like shampoo and body wash, a smell so familiar and calm that could make you feel at home even when 16 hours away.
"Happy birthday my love"
Sophia's cheeks reddened as her younger cousins started making kissing noises to tease the two of you, getting away from your neck only to yell at them. Her head tilted to look into your eyes, plump lips stretching into a wide grin.
If you hadn't known her for so long her reaction would have probably taken you by surprise. But since you did know your girlfriend, you grabbed her wrist just before she could slap your arm.
She crossed her arms over her chest "you lied!" a few of her older parents laughed at her yelling as she turned around to look at her parents "You two knew?"
Your arms tightened around her middle "don't take it out on them, I needed a mole and I told them not to tell you"
"Of course you did!" she instantly answered, not lowering her tone and causing a few more snickers "did you lie about the event?"
"Not about that, but thankfully I was able to postpone it to next week." Sophia tilted her head like she didn't know if she should believe you "I didn't know if I would be able to and I didn't want to give you false hope"
She still didn't look convinced, but rolled her eyes and let it go with a sigh. Her hands returned on the back of your neck, plain nails playing with your hair, not wanting to let go but also feeling too shy to kiss you in front of her whole family.
You caught on the small action and did the work for her. When your lips fell on hers she couldn't help but melt into it, kissing you back like she hadn't kissed you in months and forgetting about everyone in the room but you.
Although when the kids resumed with the kissy noises she had to fight the urge to flip them off.
When her dad entered the room with one more plate in his hands - your plate - Sophia glared at you once more, but her hand never left yours not even to eat (she did leave it when you offered to feed her and she saw the kids' faces light up in a dangerous way)
After dinner you stood outside, arms around her waist as you hugged her from behind with her trying to be mad while you waited for the countdown.
"So...am I forgiven?" your nose nudged her cheek as she tried not to smile too much
Normally she would be jumping around and screaming but she had silently given up on the thought when she learnt she wouldn't get to spend the night with you. And now that you were here she really didn't want to let go.
"Mhh, maybe"
So when everyone around her shouted zero she slowly turned to you, fireworks playing in her eyes and painting her skin different hues of yellow and pink and blue.
"Happy new year mahal" she whispered, hands tightening on your elbows and nose brushing yours.
"Happy new year Soph" you whispered back, bringing her lips to yours in a slow kiss.
Sophia was your first kiss of the new year. And hopefully also the last one of the year.
And the only one you got to kiss for many many years- if she were to accept the ring currently hiding in your coat pocket.
the lips i used to call home (so scarlet, it was maroon)
pairings: sophia laforteza x f!reader
warnings: yearning, eventual smut, suggestive themes, everyone wants everyone, etc.
everyone thinks sophia laforteza and leon barreto have a crush on each other, even leon's own sister. but as you slowly get to know her, life takes a strange turn, and fate reveals it has other plans.
CHAPTER 1: but on a wednesday, in cafe, i watched it begin again
a/n: i watched spiderman brand new day yesterday and rewrote all the five chapters that i had previously written for this we're in for a treat.. ANYWAYS HI SMAU NATION DID WE MISS THIS
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✯✒ Pairing: Sophia laforteza x spiderman! tmasc! r
✯✒ Plot: Katseye's next and last concert before a break is in New York, city of a beloved by many, spider themed superhero. Sophia doesn't particularly care about the hero, but will her opinion be the same with the person behind the mask?
✯✒ Tags: spiderman! r, tmasc! r, comic book nerd! r, brief Megan x r, injury, spiderman related canonical violence, incredibly slow burn, idiots in love, smau + written chapters
✯✒ Notes: the timestamps in the pics never matter unless I specify it. Specific warnings will be given at the start of every chapter. Sneak peeks will be posted soon but the real story will start next month.
✯✒ (current) Word count: 8.2k
Profiles:
- the Kats, pt2 - the bug gang, pt2
Chapter index:
Chapter 0: setting the web
Chapter 1: setting the music
Chapter 2: New York night 1
Chapter 3: I need to act nonchalant (half written)
✯✒ Notes: a little preview of what's to come. Wanted to post it on Christmas but since I posted the other fic you're getting this for Sophia's birthday. Also if you saw this before no you didn't.
main | next
Chapter 0: setting the web
CIWAF! Sophia who is so used to seeing you with the full suit that she feels like a man seeing ankle for the first time every time she sees your skin
CIWAF! Sophia whose heart skipped a bit the first time she heard your laugh, awkward and muffled by the mask
CIWAF! Sophia who wants to buy you that limited edition comic sooo bad. She knows it's expensive but she heard you talk about it and wants to make you happy soo bad and money is not even a problem for her- she only stops because you two are barely friends and doesn't want to overwhelm you
CIWAF! Sophia who sneakily put a spider emoji next to her anchor on her twitter (fans obviously pick up on it but that doesn't stop her)
CIWAF! Sophia whose eyes are glued to the tv screen any time you're away on a mission, with her heart working overtime
CIWAF! Sophia who follows any spiderman news fanpage to get constant updates
CIWAF! Sophia whose eyes are glued to you anytime you're in the same room as her. That becomes a problem when she's live and fans start asking who's got her blushing (the other girls have to literally kick you of the room)
CIWAF! Sophia who yearns hard
CIWAF! Sophia who fell hard
CIWAF! Sophia who tried to bury her feeling so deep because she didn't want to hurt Megan, Sophia promised to herself when she was little that she would never try to steal a friend's boyfriend
CIWAF! Sophia who, despite people cheering for her, is hesitant to pursue the relationship. A superhero who could die every time he wears his suit and an idol who travels the world for work? how could that even work
CIWAF! Sophia who spoils you with food "oh I'm used to cooking a lot... there's so much leftover, why don't you just come eat at my place?" the only reason why Yoonchae doesn't rat her out is because she gets more food too, though she doesn't miss the opportunity to tease
CIWAF! Sophia who doesn't really ask you anything about the superhero life unless you spontaneously talk about it- not because she's not interested, but because she doesn't want to accidentally sound invasive or make you revive something painful (let it be emotionally or physically)
CIWAF! Sophia who will - with a straight face - ask you if you eat insects and need them added to your diet or if the lotion she uses to keep mosquitoes away bothers you
CIWAF! Sophia who doesn't want to admit it but loves how stubborn you are when you're in the suit. She hates the thought of you getting hurt because you refuse to rest, but she admires how much you care about people you don't even know
CIWAF! Sophia who, if she's being honest with herself, finds your messy hair from the mask and breathy voice cute. Lara and Manon suggest spiderman roleplay in bed and Sophia's cheeks are burning before she can tell them off
CIWAF! Sophia who makes sure to stand next to you the day after a bad mission so the other girls don't unconsciously touch you where it hurts. And she really needs to be beside you because she can't believe she could have lost you (she's most probably being over dramatic but you're not changing her mind)
cw: pregnant!sophia, f!reader, mentions of being sick, suggestive content but mostly pure fluff!
summary: you still want to make your wife feel special on your anniversary though she’s sick.
a/n: i had so much fun writing this, i hope this is okay and you enjoy <3 this also is not proofread. req here!
the sun beamed through the thin curtains, hitting your face and waking you up before you were ready to be up. you were up with sophia all night whilst she was sick. she was in the third trimester and was still always violently sick.
you turned over, the light barely touching sophia’s skin as she finally slept peacefully. you kissed her forehead gently before slowly getting out of bed.
today was your 1 year anniversary of being married, but you knew sophia wouldn’t be up for much which is okay, but you still wanted to make sure she felt special, so you made her a breakfast that would be soft on her stomach but made sure to set a delivery for a small pack of cupcakes for later.
she’ll eat those regardless of how she felt. you grabbed her plate and quietly crept back to the bedroom, finding her already awake and sitting up in bed. “hi baby, do you feel better? i made you breakfast.” a small smile sat on her face now, raising her eyebrows.
“aw, thank you, baby. and yeah, i feel a little better. a lot less nauseous. and hungry. so hungry.” you laughed as you handed her the plate and a glass of water. you sat next to her with your own plate, making sure to give her the morning kisses she deserves.
“happy anniversary, honey.” sophia pouted as she spoke, sniffling before the tears even came. she was so emotional, and she hated it. “no, no, why are you crying?”
“b-because i don’t feel good, and and it’s our one year and you deserve something.” she sniffled in between words, setting her half empty plate down on the side table. you gently placed one hand on her bump that peeked out of the tight shirt she wore.
“i promise you there’s nothing i’d rather do than stay in the house and take care of my beautiful wife and our baby.” you whispered before pecking her lips, making her cry even harder.
after about an 15 minutes of getting her to stop crying and 20 bathing her, you two sat in the living room cuddled up under a white blanket, her head resting on your shoulder as your hand rested on her tummy.
you were honest earlier. you love the peacefulness and quiet of it just being you two. you loved being alone, though soon that would change, you were still so grateful.
you tried thinking of ways to continue making her feel better rather than just cuddles, kisses, and reassurance. after minutes of silently pondering, you shut off the tv and stood up.
turning around, you grabbed sophia’s hands and pulled her off the couch, making her groan. “what are you doing, y/n?” she frowned, rubbing her belly in slow circles.
“something. go put on a pretty dress.” sophia stood there for a moment before actually doing so, waddling her way to the bedroom. you’d already changed into a pair of jeans and one of sophia’s shirts while she was in the bath earlier.
eventually, she finally came out, wearing a light purple, flowy dress. but you could still see her bump, it was adorable. “now what?” she huffed with both hands on her hips. you couldn’t help but laugh.
you walked over to sophia and got behind her, guiding her out of your home and to the car. you opened the car door for her before getting into the drivers seat, giving her a gentle kiss to the lips.
“where are we going, y/n?” is all you heard the whole car ride until she started recognizing buildings and street signs. “omg, it’s been so long since we’ve drove in this town.”
you nodded, taking a few more turns to end up at your destination. it was the shitty restaurant you two sat in until sunrise, talking, on your first date. she gasped softly, out of what seemed like excitement and “what the fuck.” “you had me dress up in this nice dress for what?” she laughed, tilting her head.
“i wanted you to feel pretty.” she pouted before leaning in to kiss your lips. after the two of you had dinner, you bought her her favorite childhood snacks and flowers, a big smile on your face as you walked out of the grocery store with them.
“ugh, what did i do to deserve you?” sophia hummed the moment you got into the car, immediately smelling the flowers.
sophia cupped your face gently to pull you into a kiss, her thumb stroking your cheek. “i love you.” she mumbled against the kiss, deepening it and not giving you a chance to say it back.
the candy and flowers now sat in your lap as one of your hands sat on her thigh and the other on her wrist. the kiss got faster and sloppier before sophia pulled away, still inches from your lips. “is there a way to get pregnant while… already pregnant? because i think we could make that happen.” she joked, pecking your lips repeatedly.
“eh, i think i’ve heard a couple stories.” you both laughed at your response, deciding it was best to take this home and not fuck in a grocery store parking lot.
y/n never expected a girl literally running into her to become the highlight of her senior year. dani definitely never expected that same girl to make her question everything she thought she knew about herself. but when their friends get involved, ignoring their feelings becomes a lot harder.
chapter thirty three: and i go back to decemeber all the time
A soft, hesitant knock echoed through Dani's dorm room.
She already knew who was standing on the other side. Taking one last steadying breath, she crossed the room and pulled the door open.
Y/n stood in the doorway, her hands tucked deep into the front pockets of her oversized hoodie.
"Hey," Y/n said softly.
"Hey."
For a long, heavy moment, neither of them moved.
Then, Dani stepped aside, opening the door wider. "You can come in."
Y/n nodded silently, walking past her into the room. A familiar silence quickly settled between them, but it wasn't the easy, comforting quiet they used to share. It felt thick and heavy with tension.
"I-" Dani started, cutting herself off before taking a breath, "Thank you for coming."
Y/n crossed her arms, leaning back against the edge of Dani's wooden desk. "Lara talked to me earlier."
Dani looked down at her shoes, "I figured."
Another fragile silence stretched between them before Y/n finally looked up, meeting her gaze directly. "I don't care that you and Sophia hooked up," she said plainly.
Dani's head snapped up, "You don't?"
"No," Y/n sighed, shaking her head slightly. "It happened long before we ever met. It would have been stupid and childish of me to get mad over something in your past." Her voice softened, a raw edge of vulnerability cracking through. "What hurt was realizing every single person in that room already knew about it except for me."
Dani felt her chest tighten painfully. "I know."
"I felt so stupid, sitting on that couch while everyone looked at me like I was completely out of the loop, like I missed something obvious."
"I am so sorry," Dani whispered.
"I know you are,” Y/n let out a breath.
"No," Dani shook her head, her voice cracking as tears welled in her eyes. "I don't think you fully understand. I'm not saying 'I'm sorry' just because you happened to find out. I'm sorry because I made it possible for you to find out from someone else instead of hearing it directly from me."
Y/n stayed quiet, watching her closely.
"I've replayed that night in my head a hundred times," Dani confessed, a tear finally spilling over. "When you first asked me about it, I should have just been honest right then and there. I don't know why I didn't. I wish I had some actual, logical explanation to give you, but I don't. I just panicked, and every single day after that," Dani let out a bitter, shaky laugh. "It just felt harder and harder to bring up. So I kept telling myself I'd tell you tomorrow. And then tomorrow turned into next week. And then...you found out like that."
Y/n watched as tears continued to fill Dani's eyes, her own heart aching at the sight.
"I never wanted to hide it from you," Dani continued, wiping her cheek, "I was just... I was ashamed."
Ashamed. Not of Sophia, and not of what had happened in the past, but ashamed that she had let a split-second panic spiral into something that could deeply hurt the person she cared about most in the world.
"I understand why you didn't tell me right at first," Y/n admitted quietly, her tone softening. "It was also the fact that you told me not to worry about her. I just felt... lied to."
Dani’s eyes closed for a couple seconds, blinking the tears away "We're just best friends, Y/n. Back then I was so... confused, I think. About my sexuality. About my feelings for you."
“You literally have her contact name as ‘love of my life!’” Y/n raised her voice slightly.
“Platonically, Y/n. I swear, I don’t feel anything towards her and I never will,” Dani reassured her.
"I just really wish you had trusted me enough to tell me eventually."
"I know," Dani sobbed softly. "I do trust you. I was just... I was so terrified, Y/n. I was scared you'd look at me differently."
Y/n's expression softened completely. "I would have."
Dani's heart dropped into her stomach. "I would have thought you trusted me," Y/n added gently.
The room fell into a profound, quiet stillness.
"I missed you," Dani blurted out, the words slipping past her lips before she could stop them. "I miss you every single day."
Y/n blinked quickly, fighting back the sting of tears threatening to spill over her own eyelashes. "I missed you too."
Dani offered a weak, watery laugh through her tears. "I've been wanting to just hold you since the second you walked through that door."
A small, genuine smile touched Y/n's lips for what felt like the first time in over a week, "So why didn't you?"
"I wasn't sure if you'd even want me to," Dani admitted.
Y/n pushed off the desk and took the last few steps separating them across the small room. "You should have asked."
Dani immediately reached out, carefully wrapping her arms around Y/n, clinging to her as if she were afraid Y/n might leave if she let go. As Y/n wrapped her arms tightly back around her waist, Dani buried her face in her shoulder and finally let out the breath she felt like she'd been holding for days.
"I'm so sorry," Dani whispered repeatedly into the fabric of Y/n's hoodie.
"I know."
"No," Dani murmured, pulling back just enough to look Y/n dead in the eyes. "I really need you to hear this."
She held Y/n's gaze firmly, "I love you."
The words hung between them, clear and undeniable.
"I know this is probably terrible timing," Dani rushed out nervously, "And I know I probably don't even deserve to hear it back right now. I just- I love you, Y/n. I loved you before any of this happened, and I still love you right now."
The room drifted into silence for half a second. Dani's stomach twisted, maybe she'd said it too soon.
Maybe she-
Then, Y/n reached up with both hands, gently cupping Dani's tear-stained face. "I love you too. I was just really, really hurt."
"I know you were."
"And I'm still going to need some time to process everything."
"Take all the time you need," Dani promised without hesitation.
"But," Y/n leaned forward, resting her forehead gently against Dani's, "I'd much rather work through all of this with you."
Dani closed her eyes, an overwhelming wave of pure relief washing over her entire body. "We can do that. I promise I'll earn back every bit of your trust. No more hiding things.'"
Y/n nodded against her. "Deal."
For the first time in over a week, the silence that settled between them felt warm and familiar again. Not because everything they'd been through disappeared overnight, but because, for the first time, they truly understood each other.
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y/n never expected a girl literally running into her to become the highlight of her senior year. dani definitely never expected that same girl to make her question everything she thought she knew about herself. but when their friends get involved, ignoring their feelings becomes a lot harder.
chapter thirty two: lover, you should've come over
Y/n was carefully packing her lyricbook into her bag when she heard someone call her name from the hallway.
"Y/n?"
She looked up to see Lara standing in the doorway of the practice room, watching her with an uncertain expression.
"Oh, hey," Y/n said softly.
"Do you have a minute to talk?"
Y/n hesitated for a second before giving a small nod. "Yeah, sure."
Lara stepped inside, crossing the room and leaning casually against one of the electric pianos. "I know this is probably the absolute last thing you want to talk about right now," she began carefully, "and if you want me to turn around and leave, I will."
Y/n offered a small, neutral shrug, "It's fine."
A brief, heavy silence settled between them before Lara let out a slow sigh. "I just- I don't want you to think I'm standing here trying to make excuses for Dani."
Y/n looked down at her hands, tracing the strap of her bag awkwardly. "I'm not asking you to."
"And I'm not going to either," Lara said firmly, before her voice softened, "She messed up. Plain and simple."
Y/n nodded once, looking back up. "I know."
"But..." Lara continued, choosing her words carefully, "I also don't think you fully know what this past week has actually looked like for her."
Y/n stayed completely quiet, waiting. "She's barely sleeping," Lara told her. That single sentence made Y/n's eyes flick up to meet Lara's for the first time since she walked in.
"She goes to class because she has to, and then she goes straight back to her dorm room," Lara said, letting out a quiet laugh, "Half the time, we don't even know if she's eaten unless Sophia literally forces food into her hands."
Y/n's guarded expression softened for just a fraction of a second before she quickly caught herself and smoothed it over.
However, Lara didn't miss it. "She's not avoiding you because she doesn't care about you, Y/n."
Y/n swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. "Then why is she?"
"Because she genuinely doesn't know how to explain herself to you." Lara looked down at the floor, shaking her head gently. "I asked her straight up why she lied in the first place."
"And what did she say?" Y/n was curious.
"She doesn't even know," Lara admitted. She smiled sadly. "She just keeps repeating, 'I wish I had a better answer for her than I panicked.'"
The hallway outside buzzed with students changing classes, laughter echoing off the lockers, but inside the practice room, neither of them moved. "She knows she should have told you," Lara said quietly, "She knows she waited too long."
Y/n let out a slow, heavy breath, leaning back against the music stand. "I wasn't even upset because they hooked up, I was upset because-" Her voice cracked slightly, the emotion she'd been bottling up finally breaking through. "Everyone in that room looked at me like I was the only one who didn't know."
Lara nodded slowly, offering no comfort, "You were."
The sheer honesty of the words stung far more than Y/n expected. "I'm so sorry," Lara said softly. "None of us even realized you didn't know until you asked."
Another quiet pause settled between them, lighter this time.
Finally, Lara pushed herself off the piano. "Whether you decide to forgive her or not, that's completely up to you. I'm not here to try and change your mind." She met Y/n's eyes with a warm, earnest look. "I just think you deserve to hear whatever explanation she has before you make up your mind for good."
Y/n stared down at the wooden floorboards for a long moment. "Thanks, Lara."
Lara nodded gently, "For what it's worth," she added softly as she reached the doorway, "I've never seen Dani be in love with someone like the way she is with you."
She slipped out into the hallway before Y/n could even respond, leaving her standing alone in the quiet practice room with her mind racing.
back ∥ main ∥ next
a/n: sorry for the late update ive been super busy today
- ★ - I kinda like it when you call me wonderful - ★ -
★warnings★ food n shi
★synopsis★ dinner dinner
★genre★ ion know
★A/N★ nothin really
★word count★ 5.6k
By five fifteen, Sophia had checked her phone thirty-two times.
Not because you were late.
You had texted her at four forty-eight.
Outside. Don’t panic.
Sophia had immediately started panicking.
The family party had already expanded beyond what any reasonable person could call a party. Cars lined both sides of the street. The house and rented event space behind it were bright with warm lights, flowers, trays of food, and relatives who kept appearing from rooms Sophia had been certain were empty.
Her mom was directing people toward tables.
Her dad was moving through the kitchen with the focused calm of a professional chef who had prepared enough food to serve a small nation and still distrusted everyone else near his stove.
Sophia’s older brother was pretending not to watch the front door.
Her younger brother was very obviously watching the front door.
The girls were worse.
Megan had been stationed near the entryway for twenty minutes under the transparent excuse that she was “helping greet people.”
She had greeted no one.
Lara kept circling through the room like a shark.
Manon had chosen a chair with a direct view of the entrance.
Daniela was speaking to one of Sophia’s relatives while somehow monitoring the entire house.
Yoonchae had asked Sophia what her girlfriend looked like six times.
Sophia had responded differently each time.
“Pretty.”
“You said that already.”
“Very pretty.”
“What color is her hair?”
“Hair colored.”
Yoonchae had stared at her.
Sophia had walked away.
Now Sophia was standing near the hallway with her phone clenched in one hand, wondering whether it was possible to fake a minor fire alarm incident before you entered.
Her mother found her first.
“She’s here?”
Sophia nearly dropped the phone.
“What?”
“You keep looking at the door.”
“I’m checking something.”
“What?”
“The door.”
Her mom’s expression softened with such immediate understanding that Sophia wanted to fling herself out a window.
“You’re nervous.”
“No.”
“It’s okay.”
“I’m not nervous.”
Her mother touched her arm gently. “She’s probably nervous too.”
Sophia looked toward the front of the house.
You had seemed remarkably calm during the entire week of preparation.
Too calm.
Sophia had sent you an eleven-page document.
You had responded:
This is not notes. This is a hostage dossier.
Then you had read all of it.
You had asked questions about her parents, her brothers, the girls, the relatives most likely to corner you, the ones most likely to post pictures, what foods Sophia liked, which stories she had already told, and how affectionate you were expected to appear.
You had made her explain the relationship timeline three times because she kept changing details.
You had taken notes.
Actual notes.
You had forced Sophia to agree on a story for how you met.
At the coffee shop, obviously.
You had decided the fake relationship had begun after Sophia stayed late one morning because the rain was too heavy to leave, and the two of you had talked until your shift ended.
It was simple.
Believable.
Worse, there was enough truth in it to make Sophia uncomfortable.
She had stayed through rainstorms before.
You had talked.
You knew things about her that the girls did not know you knew.
Her mother squeezed her arm.
“We’ll be normal.”
Sophia looked at the room behind her.
One auntie had already moved a chair closer to Sophia’s table specifically so she could “see better.”
Her brothers were whispering near the drinks.
Megan had changed positions and was now standing directly beside the front door.
“You don’t know how to be normal,” Sophia said.
Her mom looked offended.
“We can be normal.”
At that exact moment, Lara rushed past them toward the entrance, hissed, “She’s here,” and almost collided with a cousin carrying a tray.
Sophia’s mom watched her recover and pretend nothing had happened.
Then she looked back at Sophia.
“We can try to be normal.”
The door opened.
The room did not become silent.
There were too many people for that.
But Sophia felt the shift.
The girls noticed first.
Her brothers noticed immediately after.
Then her mother.
Then her dad, who glanced up from where he was speaking with someone near the kitchen.
And then Sophia saw you.
You had listened.
That was the first thing she noticed.
Not in some dramatic, cinematic way.
You had just listened.
You were dressed nicely without looking like you were trying too hard. You looked appropriate for a family event, comfortable enough to survive several hours, polished enough that no one could accuse Sophia of hiding you because you were embarrassing.
You were holding a small box from the bakery her mother liked.
Sophia had mentioned it once.
Once.
You stepped inside, looked directly at Sophia, and smiled.
Not the grin you gave her over the coffee counter when you were about to say something irritating.
Something softer.
Familiar.
Like finding Sophia in a crowded room was the only thing you had needed to do.
Her heart gave one violent, traitorous beat.
Then Megan appeared in front of you.
“Hi.”
Sophia closed her eyes.
You looked at Megan.
“Hi.”
“I’m Megan.”
“I know.”
Megan’s eyes widened.
You smiled. “Soph talks about you.”
Soph.
Not Sophia.
Not delivered awkwardly.
Not emphasized.
Just Soph, as if you had used it a thousand times.
Megan turned her head slowly toward Sophia.
Sophia could see the screaming in her eyes.
Before Megan could begin an interrogation in the doorway, you looked past her.
“Are you going to rescue me, or is this some sort of test?”
Sophia moved.
Too quickly.
She nearly clipped her shoulder against a wall but reached you without falling, which she considered a success.
“You’re early.”
“You told me five-thirty.”
“It’s five-fifteen.”
“I know how time works.”
“You work at a coffee shop.”
“And yet I’ve mastered clocks.”
Your eyes softened slightly when Sophia stopped in front of you.
For one horrible second, she forgot what came next.
You did not.
You opened one arm.
It was subtle.
A question.
They had discussed this.
Brief hugs were acceptable.
Sophia stepped into it.
Your hand settled at the middle of her back, warm and steady. You leaned in just enough for the embrace to look natural, your cheek briefly near her temple.
“You’re doing the haunted stare again,” you murmured.
Sophia’s fingers tightened against your side.
“Everyone is watching.”
“I know.”
“You’re not supposed to sound happy about it.”
“I’m getting a semester out of this.”
Sophia pulled back before she laughed.
You kept one hand lightly at her back for half a second longer than necessary, then looked toward her mother.
Sophia watched you straighten almost imperceptibly.
“Mrs. Laforteza?”
Her mom beamed.
The expression was so bright Sophia nearly felt guilty all over again.
You offered the bakery box with both hands.
“Thank you for inviting me. Sophia said you liked these.”
Her mother accepted it, already looking emotional.
“You didn’t have to bring anything.”
“I know. I wanted to.”
That was it.
Sophia saw the exact moment her mother decided she loved you.
Not approved.
Not tolerated.
Loved.
Her mom touched your arm.
“You can call me Carla.”
You glanced at Sophia.
Just quickly.
Like checking whether that was okay.
Sophia nodded.
“Thank you, Carla.”
Then her dad approached.
Sophia had warned you that he might be quieter at first.
You had said that was fine.
She had also warned you that he was a professional chef and food mattered.
You had asked what he had made.
Sophia had not known.
You had looked personally offended by her lack of information.
Now you smiled and greeted him with the same calm respect, not too eager, not intimidated.
You shook his hand.
“Thank you for having me.”
Her dad glanced toward the crowded house.
“Have you eaten?”
You smiled. “Not yet.”
“Good.”
That was apparently enough.
He nodded once toward the food.
“Come before everyone finishes the good things.”
Sophia blinked.
Her father had accepted you in under thirty seconds.
You looked at her.
“Is that a family welcome?”
“That’s practically an adoption.”
Her mother laughed.
Behind them, Sophia’s older brother cleared his throat.
Sophia felt the mood change.
You turned.
Both brothers stood together.
They had clearly planned this.
The older one held out a hand first.
“So you’re the girlfriend.”
Sophia wanted to die.
You took his hand.
“So you’re the brother with the laundry chair.”
He froze.
The younger brother made a choking sound.
Sophia covered her mouth.
You released his hand and turned to the younger one.
“And you’re the one who thinks toast is cooking.”
Her younger brother stared at you.
Then at Sophia.
“You told her that?”
“You asked for details,” you said mildly.
Sophia’s older brother looked offended.
“What else did she tell you?”
You glanced at Sophia.
“Enough.”
It was perfect.
Not too much.
Not too little.
Just enough to suggest late-night conversations and private jokes without giving them anything useful.
Both brothers looked at Sophia with renewed betrayal.
You moved closer to her and lowered your voice.
“They’re easier than you said.”
“They can hear you.”
“I know.”
Her younger brother laughed first.
The older one tried not to.
He failed.
Sophia felt some tight, painful knot inside her loosen.
You were good.
Far too good.
Then the girls descended.
All five of them.
There was no orderly introduction.
Megan hugged you before Sophia could warn you.
You caught her without stumbling.
Lara immediately asked how long you had known Sophia.
Daniela asked whether you really traveled for school.
Manon watched you like she was assessing structural integrity.
Yoonchae smiled and said, “You’re real.”
You looked at her.
“I hope so.”
Yoonchae nodded seriously.
“We weren’t sure.”
Sophia glared at her.
You laughed.
Not nervously.
Not too loudly.
You looked perfectly at ease surrounded by five women firing questions at you from different directions.
Sophia could barely follow them.
You answered only what needed answering.
Yes, you were in college.
No, you did not travel internationally every week; Sophia had exaggerated because Sophia was incapable of giving a normal answer when cornered.
Yes, you worked at a coffee shop.
Yes, that was where you met.
No, Sophia had not immediately charmed you.
“She complained about cinnamon for four minutes,” you said.
“It was unnecessary cinnamon,” Sophia defended.
“You accused it of ruining the structural integrity of the latte.”
“It changed the flavor.”
“It was dust.”
“It was aggressive dust.”
Megan looked between the two of you with delight.
“Oh my God.”
“What?” Sophia asked.
“You’re like this with her too.”
Sophia’s stomach turned over.
You glanced at her.
“Like what?”
“Like—” Megan waved both hands between you. “Like this.”
“That explains nothing,” Sophia said.
“It explains everything,” Lara said.
Daniela was still watching.
Sophia noticed because Daniela was always the one most likely to notice something wrong.
You noticed too.
Your gaze shifted to her.
“You’re Daniela.”
Daniela lifted one eyebrow.
“You know all of us.”
“Soph gave me a very thorough briefing.”
“How thorough?”
“Your section was labeled, ‘Do not mistake her staring for hatred.’”
Manon laughed.
Daniela looked at Sophia.
Sophia looked away.
You continued, “It also said you’d probably be the first one to know if I made her uncomfortable.”
That changed something.
Daniela’s expression eased.
Barely.
But Sophia saw it.
You had not tried to flatter her.
You had acknowledged her.
Acknowledged the role she played in Sophia’s life.
Daniela nodded once.
“She told you right.”
“I assumed she did.”
By the time Sophia’s mother called everyone toward the food, the girls were already treating you less like a stranger and more like a new development they intended to study indefinitely.
Megan had linked her arm through yours.
Lara was asking whether you had embarrassing coffee-shop stories about Sophia.
Yoonchae wanted to know your order.
Manon had started explaining which relatives to avoid being trapped by.
Daniela walked beside Sophia.
“She’s good,” she said quietly.
Sophia’s heart stopped.
“What?”
Daniela looked ahead.
“She’s good for you.”
The words landed harder than they should have.
Sophia glanced toward you.
You were listening to Yoonchae explain something with complete seriousness while Megan interrupted from your other side. You looked over their heads and caught Sophia watching.
Your mouth curved.
You tilted your head toward the food as if asking whether she was coming.
Sophia looked away too late.
Daniela noticed.
Of course she noticed.
“I see why you hid her.”
“I didn’t hide her.”
“You hid her from us.”
“It was new.”
Daniela hummed.
Sophia hated that sound.
Before she could defend herself, an auntie intercepted her.
Then another.
You had been at the party for eleven minutes.
Sophia should have expected it.
“Sophia!”
Hands reached for her.
Someone hugged her.
Someone else touched her hair.
Questions began before she had even fully turned around.
How was work?
Was she eating?
Why did she look tired?
Was that the girlfriend?
Was she the one from far away?
Why had Sophia hidden her?
Was it serious?
You appeared beside Sophia without seeming to rush.
Your hand settled lightly against the small of her back.
It was not dramatic.
It was barely pressure.
But Sophia felt it.
A quiet reminder.
You were there.
You smiled at the aunties.
Introduced yourself.
Accepted three compliments and one comment about your height without blinking.
When one of them asked how long you and Sophia had been together, you looked at Sophia first.
Not because you needed the answer.
Because it looked like the kind of glance couples shared before deciding how much to reveal.
“A little over a month,” you said.
Sophia’s auntie’s face lit up.
“Very new.”
“Very,” you agreed.
“And already meeting the whole family?”
You looked around at the crowd.
“I was told there would be fewer people.”
Sophia’s aunties laughed.
Sophia looked at you.
You lowered your voice.
“You said maybe ninety.”
“That is fewer.”
“Than what? A concert?”
The aunties laughed harder.
One of them touched Sophia’s arm.
“She’s funny.”
“I know,” Sophia said before she could stop herself.
You looked at her.
Something softened in your expression.
The aunties saw it.
Sophia knew because they all made the same small, delighted sound.
She wanted the floor to open.
Then came the first sticky question.
“So who said ‘I love you’ first?”
Sophia’s entire body locked.
You did not.
You smiled.
“Her mother told us not to overwhelm me.”
The auntie laughed.
“That is not an answer.”
“No,” you agreed.
Another auntie leaned closer.
“So neither of you?”
You looked at Sophia again.
This time your expression changed.
Just slightly.
Softer.
More private.
Like there was an answer, but it did not belong to the room.
“We’re taking our time,” you said.
It was perfect.
The aunties melted.
Sophia nearly did too.
Then you redirected them by asking which food you needed to try first.
Every auntie had an answer.
Within seconds, the conversation moved from Sophia’s imaginary love life to an argument over which dish deserved to be your first introduction to the family.
You leaned toward Sophia.
“You’re welcome.”
She whispered, “That was terrifying.”
“That was five women.”
“There are more.”
“I’ve noticed.”
You guided her toward the food with your hand still at her back.
It became a pattern.
Every time Sophia got trapped, you appeared.
When an uncle asked about marriage, you told him you still had assignments due on Monday and could only survive one life crisis at a time.
When a cousin asked why Sophia had never posted you, you said, “Have you seen what people say about the way she holds a water bottle? I’m keeping my peace.”
When an auntie asked whether your parents knew about Sophia, you replied that they knew you were seeing someone but that you had not subjected Sophia to your side of the family yet.
“Fair is fair,” you added.
Everyone accepted it.
When Sophia’s younger brother tried to catch you by asking what Sophia ordered at the coffee shop, you answered without hesitation.
“Large latte, extra shot, no cinnamon. Unless she slept less than four hours. Then she pretends the second extra shot is medicinal.”
Sophia frowned. “It is medicinal.”
Her dad looked at her.
“It is not.”
You nodded toward him. “I’ve told her.”
Traitor.
Her father liked you more.
The worst part was that you never overdid it.
You did not cling to Sophia.
You did not invent dramatic declarations.
You stayed close, touched her lightly when moving through crowded spaces, and checked on her without making it obvious.
You handed her a drink when she started looking overwhelmed.
You remembered where she had left her phone.
You stepped in when relatives crowded too close.
You laughed at her brothers.
You let her mother feed you.
You complimented her dad’s food with enough specificity that he immediately began explaining how he had prepared it.
That was when Sophia realized she had made a tactical error.
Her dad liked feeding people.
You liked trying things.
Together, this was dangerous.
“You eat spicy food?” her dad asked.
“Yes.”
Sophia looked at you.
“You do?”
You glanced at her. “We’ve discussed this.”
“When?”
“You said you could handle spice.”
“I can.”
“You called black pepper aggressive.”
“That was one time.”
Her dad smiled slightly.
“What level?”
You shrugged. “Pretty high.”
Sophia’s brothers overheard.
They moved closer.
So did Megan.
Then Lara.
Within moments, all five girls had gathered.
Sophia’s father began setting different dishes on plates.
“This one is mild,” he explained.
Sophia took offense.
“That is not mild.”
He looked at her.
“For you.”
You covered a laugh with your hand.
Sophia nudged you.
“Don’t encourage him.”
Her dad handed you the first bite.
You tried it.
Everyone watched.
You nodded thoughtfully.
“That’s really good.”
“No reaction?” Sophia’s younger brother asked.
You looked at him. “Was I supposed to perform?”
“It’s spicy.”
“It is.”
“But?”
You took another bite.
“But it tastes good.”
Sophia narrowed her eyes.
The next dish was stronger.
You tried that too.
Still fine.
A little warmth reached your face, but you continued eating without difficulty.
Her dad looked impressed.
Her brothers looked challenged on his behalf.
Sophia felt vaguely betrayed.
“You said you liked spicy food,” you reminded her.
“I do.”
“You’re drinking water.”
“I was thirsty.”
“You’ve been thirsty after every bite.”
Megan laughed into Lara’s shoulder.
Sophia ignored them.
There were several things on the table you had never tried before, and once her family realized that, they became delighted by the opportunity.
You let Sophia choose things for you.
That should not have felt as intimate as it did.
It was food.
That was all.
Sophia picked up a small piece from one dish and held it toward you.
“Try this.”
You looked at it.
“What is it?”
“Trust me.”
“That phrase has cost me a semester of my life.”
“You’re gaining a semester.”
“Financially.”
“Open.”
Your eyebrows rose.
Behind you, Megan made a tiny sound.
Sophia ignored her.
You leaned forward and let Sophia feed you the bite.
The room did not stop.
Nobody gasped.
But Sophia felt every pair of eyes at the table turn toward you.
You chewed.
Your expression changed.
“That’s good.”
“I know.”
“What’s in it?”
Sophia began explaining.
You listened, then let her choose another.
And another.
Some you liked immediately.
One made you pause, visibly reconsider, then swallow with determined politeness.
Sophia laughed.
“You hate it.”
“I don’t hate it.”
“You made a face.”
“I was processing.”
“You looked betrayed.”
“It has a surprising texture.”
“You hate it.”
“I respect it from a distance.”
Her mom laughed from across the table.
One auntie touched another’s arm and whispered something while watching Sophia feed you another bite.
That was when Sophia became aware of how normal it looked.
Too normal.
You were standing close to her.
Your shoulder brushed hers.
You took food directly from her hand without hesitation.
You occasionally leaned down so she could say something beneath the noise.
Her family had accepted you.
The girls had accepted you.
Even Daniela had stopped watching for inconsistencies and started watching the two of you with a small, knowing smile.
This was supposed to be acting.
It did not feel like acting.
Sophia’s chest tightened.
She needed to break the moment.
Immediately.
Her gaze fell toward the large pot near the back of the table.
Her father’s spicy dish.
Not the spicy dish.
The spicy dish.
The one he had warned everyone about.
It had been simmering for hours, with whole chilies cooked into the sauce. The actual food was hot enough.
The peppers themselves were monstrous.
Sophia would not eat one.
She had once touched the sauce to her tongue and lost feeling in half her face.
Her father had placed the chilies along the edge so people would not accidentally serve them.
Sophia looked at you.
You were speaking to her auntie while holding the small plate Sophia had filled for you.
Too calm.
Too convincing.
Too comfortable.
A terrible idea formed.
Sophia reached toward the pot.
Her dad noticed.
“What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“That is not nothing.”
Sophia picked up one of the peppers.
Her father stared.
“Sophia.”
You turned back toward her.
“What?”
Sophia held the pepper between two fingers.
“Try this.”
Her dad’s expression changed.
“You don’t eat that.”
Sophia ignored him.
You looked at the pepper.
Then at her.
“What is it?”
“Spicy.”
Behind you, her older brother started smiling.
Her younger brother leaned forward.
Megan’s eyes widened.
Her aunties stopped speaking.
Everyone at that end of the table was watching now.
You studied Sophia’s face.
She tried to look innocent.
She failed.
“You’re trying to kill me,” you said.
“No.”
“You look guilty.”
“I always look like this.”
“That is unfortunately true.”
Sophia held the pepper closer.
“You said you could handle spice.”
“I can.”
“So?”
Her father intervened.
“That was simmering in the pot.”
You glanced at him.
“How bad?”
He looked at Sophia.
Then at you.
“It has been cooking in concentrated sauce for several hours.”
You looked back at Sophia.
She smiled sweetly.
You narrowed your eyes.
“This feels like a relationship test.”
Sophia’s aunties made another delighted sound.
Sophia’s face warmed.
“It’s not.”
“It’s food you refuse to eat.”
“I never said that.”
Her brother spoke immediately.
“She refuses to eat it.”
Sophia glared at him.
You looked at the chili again.
Then, maintaining direct eye contact with Sophia, you leaned forward.
Sophia stopped breathing.
You opened your mouth.
She placed the pepper between your lips.
The entire table watched.
You bit down.
For one second, nothing happened.
You chewed.
Swallowed.
Sophia’s older brother looked disappointed.
Her younger brother looked impressed.
You nodded once.
“Good flavor.”
Sophia stared.
“That’s it?”
You looked at her.
“Were you hoping I’d suffer?”
“No.”
“Yes,” her brothers said together.
You took a calm sip of your drink.
Then Sophia noticed the color beginning to rise along your neck.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
Warmth spread over your skin.
Your ears turned red first.
Then your cheeks.
Your eyes sharpened slightly.
You swallowed.
Sophia’s mouth curved.
“There it is.”
You looked at her with great dignity.
“It’s warm.”
Her father laughed.
Not politely.
A full laugh.
The girls lost control.
Megan folded over.
Lara clung to Manon.
Yoonchae covered her mouth.
Daniela’s shoulders shook.
You remained perfectly upright.
Another wave of heat visibly reached your face.
Your eyes watered once.
Barely.
You blinked it away.
One auntie asked, “Are you okay?”
You turned toward her with an impressively composed smile.
“Perfectly fine.”
Your voice was slightly strained.
Sophia laughed.
You looked at her.
There was a promise in that look.
Not a threat.
Worse.
A future problem.
You set down your plate.
“If you’ll excuse me for one moment.”
You said it so professionally that several aunties nodded as if you had announced you needed to take a business call.
Then you walked away from the table.
Not quickly.
Not technically.
But with purpose.
Sophia watched you cross the room, enter the kitchen, grab the largest available glass, fill it with water, and drink the entire thing without stopping.
Her younger brother leaned toward her.
“You’re evil.”
“She said she could handle spice.”
“She handled it better than you would.”
“I could eat that.”
Her father looked at her.
“No.”
Sophia frowned.
“I could.”
“You cried from the sauce.”
“I had something in my eye.”
“You had chili in your eye because you touched your face.”
“That was unrelated.”
The table laughed again.
You refilled the glass.
Drank half.
Then stood with both hands braced on the counter, breathing carefully through your nose.
Sophia’s amusement began to turn into guilt.
Maybe she had gone too far.
She slipped away from the table and entered the kitchen.
You did not look at her.
“Y/N.”
You held up one finger.
Sophia stopped.
You drank the rest of the water.
Then finally turned.
Your face was still warm.
Your eyes were slightly glassy.
Sophia bit her lip to stop smiling.
“You think this is funny.”
“A little.”
“You fed me the pepper itself.”
“You agreed.”
“You weaponized my pride.”
“That sounds like a personal weakness.”
You stared at her.
Sophia smiled.
Then your expression changed.
The heat was still there, but amusement began creeping into your face.
“You know I can handle more spice than you, right?”
Sophia folded her arms.
“Clearly not.”
“You gave me something your professional-chef father warned you not to touch.”
“You survived.”
“I left a table full of aunties to chug water over a sink.”
“Professionally.”
Your mouth twitched.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
The words left Sophia automatically.
Both of you went still.
The noise of the party continued beyond the kitchen.
Voices.
Laughter.
Dishes shifting.
Someone calling for another chair.
But inside the kitchen, something quiet settled between you.
Sophia became painfully aware that she had just repeated the premise of the entire lie.
You liked her.
That was what everyone believed.
That was what you were being paid to pretend.
Your gaze dropped briefly to her mouth.
Or maybe Sophia imagined it.
Then you stepped closer.
Not enough to touch.
Enough that Sophia had to tilt her head slightly to keep looking at you.
“You seem very confident about that,” you said.
Sophia’s heart stumbled.
“You’re still here.”
“You’re paying my tuition.”
“Higher education.”
“Stop using education to avoid emotional accountability.”
Sophia opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
You smiled.
There was the barista smile again.
The one that made her feel like you had won something she did not know you were competing for.
Then you reached past her, took a small container from the counter, and held it up.
“What is this?”
Sophia blinked.
“You’re changing the subject.”
“I’m recovering.”
“It’s yogurt.”
“Does it help?”
“Yes.”
You opened it immediately.
Sophia laughed.
You took a spoonful, then another.
The heat slowly began leaving your face.
“You’re terrible,” you said.
“You still said yes.”
“I was financially vulnerable.”
“You made me ask properly.”
“I wanted to hear it.”
Sophia stared at you.
You ate another spoonful of yogurt.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That was a meaningful silence.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
You gave the words back to her casually.
Sophia looked away.
The kitchen door opened.
Megan leaned inside.
“There you are.”
Her gaze moved between you and Sophia.
Then to the yogurt.
Then to your still-red face.
Her grin became unbearable.
“You okay?”
You nodded. “Sophia tried to assassinate me.”
“She does that when she likes people.”
Sophia whipped around.
“I do not.”
Megan ignored her.
“You should’ve seen her with us during training.”
“That does not prove anything.”
Megan looked at you.
“She’s evil.”
“I’m learning.”
“And you’re still dating her.”
You glanced at Sophia.
Your expression softened with terrifying ease.
“I’m learning that too.”
Megan froze.
Sophia froze.
You took another bite of yogurt.
Megan’s eyes widened.
Then she backed out of the kitchen without another word.
Sophia heard her begin running before the door closed.
“She’s going to tell everyone,” Sophia said.
“You’re welcome.”
“For what?”
“You looked like you were about to panic again.”
“So you made it worse?”
“I redirected her.”
“To our fake emotional intimacy.”
You pointed the spoon at her.
“Keep saying ‘fake’ that loudly. I’m sure your family will appreciate the clarification.”
Sophia stepped closer and lowered her voice.
“You are enjoying this too much.”
“Your family feeds me. Your dad likes me. Your mom gave me permission to call her Carla. Your brothers are easy to bully, and your friends are fun.”
“And me?”
You looked at her.
Sophia immediately regretted asking.
The teasing faded.
You took your time answering.
“You’re okay.”
Sophia slapped your arm.
You laughed.
When you returned to the party, you did not make Sophia explain the kitchen delay.
You simply took her hand.
That had been part of the agreement.
Hand-holding.
Low-level affection.
Nothing complicated.
Your palm was warm from the chili.
Sophia’s fingers fitted between yours.
The girls noticed.
Her family noticed.
Nobody questioned it.
You guided Sophia back toward the table, stopping once to let an older relative pass.
Your thumb moved lightly over the side of Sophia’s hand.
Once.
Probably accidental.
Sophia felt it anyway.
By the end of the night, everyone was convinced.
Her mother hugged you before you left and made you promise to come again.
Her father packed food for you and included a separate container of the spicy dish.
“No peppers,” he said.
You looked at Sophia.
“Thank you.”
Her brothers had both added your number to their phones, allegedly for emergencies.
Megan had invited you to three group outings.
Lara wanted to visit the coffee shop.
Manon had told you that you were “less annoying than expected,” which was practically a declaration of love.
Yoonchae hugged you and said she was happy Sophia had found you.
Daniela waited until the others were distracted before approaching.
Sophia stood beside you near the front door, suddenly tense again.
Daniela looked at you.
“You’re good at helping her.”
You did not joke.
“I try.”
Daniela nodded.
Then she looked at Sophia.
“Don’t mess it up.”
Sophia’s mouth fell open.
You squeezed her hand.
“I’ll do my best.”
Daniela walked away.
Sophia stared after her.
“What just happened?”
“I think I passed.”
“This was not supposed to have an exam.”
“You gave me an eleven-page study guide.”
Outside, the night had cooled.
The noise of the party softened once the door closed behind you.
Sophia walked you toward your car, still holding your hand because her family could see through the front windows.
That was the reason.
Obviously.
When you reached the car, neither of you let go immediately.
You looked down at your joined hands.
Then at Sophia.
“I think they bought it.”
Sophia laughed once.
“Bought it? My mother is going to start adding you to family group chats.”
“She already did.”
Sophia’s eyes widened.
“What?”
You showed her your phone.
There it was.
The family chat.
Her mother had added you twenty minutes ago.
Her younger brother had changed the group name to:
SOPHIA’S REAL GIRLFRIEND CONFIRMED
Megan had replied with six screenshots from across the room.
One showed Sophia feeding you.
One showed your hand at her back.
One showed you staring at Sophia while she argued with her brother.
One showed Sophia staring at you in the kitchen doorway.
Sophia took the phone.
“Delete these.”
“They’re not on my phone.”
“Tell her to delete them.”
“She added a heart around this one.”
Sophia groaned.
You took the phone back.
Then your smile softened.
“They like me.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Your dad packed me enough food for a week.”
“He does that.”
“Your mom invited me to lunch.”
“She does that.”
“Your friends invited me to movie night.”
Sophia paused.
“They don’t do that.”
You looked at her.
The humor faded slightly.
Sophia became aware of your hand still around hers.
The party was over.
Nobody was close enough to need convincing.
Still, neither of you moved.
“You surpassed expectations,” Sophia said quietly.
“I know.”
“Arrogant.”
“You offered me tuition because you thought I was capable.”
“I offered you tuition because I was desperate.”
“That too.”
Sophia looked toward the house.
Shapes moved behind the curtains.
At least three people were watching.
She could tell.
You followed her gaze.
“Should we give them something convincing?”
Sophia’s head snapped back toward you.
“What?”
You smiled.
Then lifted her hand and pressed a brief kiss to her knuckles.
Nothing dramatic.
Nothing outside the boundaries you had discussed.
Barely anything.
Sophia’s entire brain went silent.
From inside the house came a muffled scream.
Megan.
Definitely Megan.
You released Sophia’s hand.
“Good night, Soph.”
You opened your car door.
Sophia remained standing there.
Frozen.
“You—”
You looked at her over the door.
“What?”
“That wasn’t in the plan.”
“Neither was the pepper.”
You got into the car.
Sophia stared.
You started the engine, rolled down the window, and looked at her.
“You owe me.”
“I’m paying your tuition.”
“For the emotional damages.”
“You survived.”
“I had to eat emergency yogurt.”
“I’ll buy you yogurt.”
“Coffee too.”
“You work at a coffee shop.”
“I know. I want yours.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t need to.”
You smiled.
“Text me when you’re inside.”
Sophia opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
You drove away before she recovered.
The front door opened behind her.
Sophia did not turn around.
She could already hear the girls.
She could already hear her brothers.
Her mother was saying something about how sweet you were.
Her dad was asking whether Sophia had warned you about the pepper.
Megan was shouting about the hand kiss.
Sophia stood in the driveway, staring after your car.
The fake date had worked.
Too well.
Everyone believed you were her girlfriend.
Her family loved you.
The girls loved you.
Sophia’s parents were probably already planning the next dinner.
And Sophia could still feel the warmth of your mouth against her hand.
She slowly covered her face.
She was so fucked.
★A/N★ theres the dinner. r fr is hamster
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