#I still have no clue what their ship name is

[karespocketboyfriends]

𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍

Chapter Seven

A Love and Deepspace Fanfiction (Sylus X OC)

Warnings -> Mentions of parental abandonment

<- Chapter Six

An original fan-fiction for Love and Deepspace. I appreciate reblogs but reposting to Tumblr or any other site is not okay with me.

Finally, after eight incredibly long, harsh years, this chapter in my life is about to end.

This apartment, as old and cramped as it may be, has sheltered my brothers and I through the worst of storms. It's protected us from the monsters that roam our world, both the Wanderers and the ones that look like us. More often than not, I forget about the Wanderers, the cause behind the madness that turned the N109 Zone into what it is today. I'm fortunate enough to have never come face to face with one, and I've blacked out a lot of the memories from when the Chronorift Catastrophe occurred.

Living in this city, it's more logical to worry about what your neighbor is plotting than where a Wanderer may be lurking.

I never realized just how little my brothers and I had to our name until we started packing. Between the five of us sharing this space, it's always felt so full. Some of the decorations that lived on the walls have already been transported to the new apartment, as have the pots and pans, clothing and towels, those kind of personal things. Most of the furniture we're either leaving behind or have sold, like the torn couch only a desperate person would want and our beds that Drew and Mateo have kept in decent repair over the years. I wanted to donate the furniture, still do, but my brothers remain unaware of how much I make. The five new beds I bought for the new apartment, as far as they're concerned, came from a hefty work bonus.

I'm going to have to tell them the truth soon, for the sake of my morals if nothing else. I'm so guilt ridden, keeping us here for so many months when I could have moved us out back in January, but fear of their reactions has kept my tongue tied when it comes to work. I'm an adult and it's my own business, but with the way we've grown up, we're very protective of each other. I just know they won't take it well. Know that they'll try to convince me to step down and let them shoulder more. A sweet thought, but I want Simon and Troy to focus on school. I want Drew and Mateo to start building their own lives.

The sound of something tapping on glass catches my attention. My body goes still, hands freezing mid-air from where I'm packing up the last of my things. My collection of books is the last thing to go, my paranoia about them getting lost or damaged in the move kept me from shipping them with everything else.

The sound happens again, and I get up to investigate. I move quietly to the end of the hall, where it opens to the living room and kitchen, and look towards the window above the sink. A familiar black crow sits on the short guard rail lining the bottom of the window, tapping his sharp beak on the fragile glass.

I rush over and open the window before it breaks under his relentless tapping. "Mephisto? What are you doing here?"

The mechanical crow caws and flaps his nimble wings. Of all the occupants of Onychinus' base, it's little Mephisto here who took the longest to accept me. I'm used to charming people, not mechanical birds, so at first, I didn't have the slightest clue on how to befriend him, or if I even should. It turned out that all I needed was to leave a bowl of seeds and dried fruit trail-mix unattended on my desk for him to start visiting my office every night.

"Sorry, Mephie, but I don't have any right now." Reaching out, I gently stroke the jet black feathers on his chest. "I'll bring more to the base tonight, I promise."

My phone, tucked in the back pocket of my jeans, rings. My brows rise at the name flashing on the screen.

"Has Mephisto found you?" Sylus asks, sounding wide awake for a man who's usually dead asleep at this hour.

"He has." I say cautiously. "Are you the one who sent him?"

"Naturally, I'm the only one he answers too. It would be rather inconvenient if he did what anyone commanded."

"Fair point. So, what's he doing here? Are you asking me to work overtime?"

Sylus scoffs. "If I were summoning you, I would have sent Tim to pick you up. I'm outside."

That's all he says before abruptly hanging up. I pull the phone from my ear and stare at it, but nothing else comes through. As if to drive the point home, Mephisto caws and takes flight, disappearing from the window as if to say 'hurry up'.

Stuffing my phone back into my pocket, I throw my spring jacket on, lock the front door, and head downstairs. I'm not exactly rushing, but my steps echo rapidly in the stairwell. Sylus being awake at this time of day is odd. Him unexpectedly showing up at my apartment building is just bizarre. My mind starts racing with questions. Was the base attacked? Do we have to go into hiding? Did something happen to Luke and Kieran? They're the one's I've been expecting, not my boss.

As promised, Sylus is standing on on the curb right outside the building, Mephisto sitting on top of the black SUV he's leaning against. Unlike the black clothes I'm used to seeing him in, Sylus is dressed more casually in a grey sweater, black slacks and loafers. He's got a couple of accessories, like a black ring on his left index finger, a small geometric necklace, and a black strap wrapped around his right bicep that I have to try very hard not to stare at.

"Took you long enough." He says as I speed walk up to him. "I was starting to get cold, sweetie."

Again with that damn nickname. It's not that I hate it - quite the opposite, actually. It makes something inside of me go fuzzy, something I'm scared to feel. "You should have worn something more than a sweater. It's only April and we have no sun for warmth."

Though, didn't he give me his jacket back in January? How can he be cold now, when it's much milder, compared to back then? Unless he's messing with me, which seems most likely.

"What are you doing here? Where's Luke and Kieran?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. I'm not uncomfortable around Sylus, I'm just not used to seeing him outside of work. He's caught me off guard.

"Something came up that I needed them to take care of. They groveled outside my door until I agreed to come in their stead." Sylus ever so slightly dips his head. "They care more for you than I initially realized."

Hearing that makes my heart warm. I've come to adore those two as another set of brothers, and though I know they consider me a friend, I wasn't sure how deep it went on their end. "I see. Thank you for coming, but I understand if you're tired and need to sleep, Sir. I can wait for my brothers to get back and ask them for help."

One corner of his mouth crooks upwards. "Sylus."

I blink up at him. "Huh?"

"You're not on the clock, so call me Sylus." He stands up straight, no longer leaning against the SUV, and brushes something off his shoulder. "I'm already here, so you may as well use me."

A sound escapes me, something between a laugh and a scoff. "Fine, but don't complain if I work you to the bone."

Spinning on my heel, I lead Sylus into the building and up to the fifth floor. Every flight of stairs we clear twists my stomach into an even tighter knot. I've had Luke and Kieran over a handful of times before, but besides them, I've never brought anyone here, let alone someone who could probably fit their entire bathroom in the size of the apartment.

I can't say for certain if I expect Sylus to make a comment or not, but he doesn't. Not right away, at least. The second he steps inside, his ruby eyes take their time examining the place. Part of me wonders what he sees, and the other part doesn't want to know. I've never been embarrassed about how my brothers and I lived before now, I'm still not, but...

I fold my hands behind my back and smile up at him. "Cozy little place, isn't it? And very easy to clean. I bet you're jealous."

Sylus smirks down at me, but there's nothing arrogant or malicious about the look in his eyes. "Five of you lived in here? That's quite impressive."

I nod and look around, trying to take in the apartment from his perspective. "We barely had any privacy and frequently got on each other's nervous, but we made it work. Not that we had much of a choice." I shake my head and head towards the boxes that I've already dragged to the middle of the living room. "My books are the last things to go, so if you wouldn't mind putting those big muscles of yours to use-"

Sylus chuckles, the sound making butterflies dance in my chest. "Big, are they?"

Oh shit.

Heat rushes to my cheeks, but I ignore it. If I pretend it's not there, then he can't see it. Maybe. Hopefully. "Did you come here to help or not? If yes, then be the 'man' in manual labour and take these to the car, please and thank you."

He gives me a less than pleased look. "You've gotten bossy. Maybe I should be charging you for my efforts today."

I shrug one shoulder and smile at him again. "We can discuss payment during the drive. Get a move on."

Leaving Sylus to haul the boxes downstairs, I return to my closet bedroom to continue packing the last of my books. My dragon suncatcher has already been taken down and wrapped in bubble wrap, packaged safely in a small black box that's sitting on one of the shelves mounted above the bed. That was another treasure too precious to risk damage, so I'll personally be handling that one.

I don't even hear Sylus return, nor hear his approach. I only notice he's suddenly in front of me when a large shadow falls over me, startling me so bad I jump and almost hit my head on yet another mounted shelf.

"Jeez!" I exclaim, throwing both hands over my heart. "Please don't do that. You'll have to hire another assistant if I die of a heart attack."

"Regardless of how you'd die, I'd have to hire another." Sylus sounds like he's teasing, but that facade quickly falls as he looks around the small space I'm sitting in. At my daybed, which takes up the entire closet and leaves no floor space. At the handmade shelves mounted on all four walls. "This is where you slept?"

I don't look at him, choosing to keep packing instead. "I swear it's not as bad as it looks. I got used to it a long time ago. This place only has two bedrooms, and it made more sense for my brothers to share those."

I swear I can feel his eyes narrow. "You're the closest to the front door. The farthest from the fire escape."

My shoulders shrug on their own. "That's just the way it worked out. I never put much thought into it. My brothers weren't a fan of this idea either, but there's only so much space to work with here. The new place is much bigger, and has enough bedrooms that none of us need to share."

Placing the last few books into the box, I seal it with tape and hand it off to Sylus. While he carries it out, I grab the box with my suncatcher and make one final sweep to make sure nothing was missed. Then, I linger by the front door for a final goodbye.

As cheesy as it is, I lay my hand on the knob. "Thank you for sheltering us all these years."

The pipes creak, and it's as good a farewell as this old place can give. Stepping into the hallway, I lock the door, head to the ground floor and drop the key in the corresponding mailbox. A wave of sadness I didn't expect to feel washes through me, and I give myself a moment to feel it, then let it go.

It's time to move onto new adventures. Time to let go of the past and build a safer, more secure future for myself and my brothers.

Too bad the past can't be shaken off so easily.

The new apartment still doesn't quite feel like home, but it's slowly getting there. Perhaps it will start to feel like it after I've actually spent a night here. The past few days have just been about moving things in and getting furniture built. Yesterday, Drew and Mateo got all the beds built. My desk was done before that, and my walls were painted a soft pastel yellow before that. The only thing left is to put my massive, brand new bookcase together.

"Are you sure?" I ask, watching Sylus as he carefully pulls the pieces out of the big brown box it was shipped in. "Helping me bring the books here was more than enough. We work tonight, so shouldn't you go get some rest?"

Sylus cuts me a look. "Somehow, I get the feeling that if I leave you with this, you'll get too impatient and attempt to build it yourself."

I cock my head back. "I'm a grown woman. I can build a bookshelf."

He raises a brow. "Without hurting yourself?"

My mouth opens to respond, but nothing comes out. It closes, only to open again a minute later. "Do you like lemonade? I'll go make us some lemonade."

His chuckle follows me out of the room. The new apartment isn't as big as Onychinus' base, or even Sylus' personal wing within the base. The front door leads into a joint space the living room, dining table and kitchen share, but isn't cramped like the last apartment had to be. The five bedrooms and their private bathrooms boarder the common area, as well as a short hallway that connects my bedroom and the guest bathroom to the kitchen. The number of bathrooms is what really sold my brothers and I on this place. None of us ever wanted to have to share a bathroom ever again. That, and this building actually has twenty-four hour security. The rent is as high as one would expect, but my paychecks will more than take care of my share.

It's about time I started spending them on something. My bank account was starting to accumulate more funds than I could have ever dreamed of, and it was getting overwhelming.

When the lemonade is finished, I pour it into two tall glasses and carry them to my bedroom. They're all the same size, and as soon as we were approved, my brothers all but shoved me into one of the back bedrooms. They did still let me choose, so naturally, being the only girl, I chose the one that's a little more secluded and private. My bathroom lays between my room and Simon's, who shares a wall with Troy. Drew and Mateo took the bedrooms on either side at the front of the apartment.

Walking into the room, I blink at how much Sylus has done already. He's already got the top and bottom attached to one of the sides, and is currently attaching the other long side. "Wow, you work fast."

"It's not that hard." He says, standing up to take one of the glasses from me. He eyes the lemonade, the colour of my walls, and smirks- no, not smirks, smiles a little. "You like yellow?"

I nod and take a sip of my drink, humming in bliss as it touches my tongue. "I do. My brothers tease me for it, but it reminds me of the sun."

"Your brothers." Sylus taps his fingers against the glass as he ponders something. "You bring them up often, but you've never actually talked about them."

I take a seat on my bed, which sports a cocoa coloured pillow and comforter set, and pat the spot next to me. "I kinda assumed you figured it all out when you did a background check."

"Who told you I did a background check?" He asks, taking a seat next to me.

"You didn't do a background check?" I ask with a gasp. "Sylus! That's so dangerous! What if I was some kind of psycho?"

This time, he laughs. A hearty, booming laugh that echoes off the walls. It's rich and very unexpected, and it takes my breath away. It's the most beautiful sound I've ever heard. "Oh, you are very dangerous, kitten. You purr when you should hiss, retract your claws when you should scratch. Someone like you is a great disorder to the way the N109 Zone runs."

I huff, puffing out my cheeks on purpose. "I'm not a cat."

His signature smirk returns. "Ah, I'm mistaken. You're a chipmunk."

"A chipmunk?!"

Mephisto, who has been perched on beneath the open window this entire time, squawks with laughter of his own.

Huffing again, I glare at the bird. "I take it back. No trail-mix for you."

He falls silent again. He must really want that trail-mix.

The bedroom quiets down again, and Sylus continues. "I did look into you, but there was nothing to find. Just as Luke and Kieran said, you've lived a quiet life."

Sighing, I cross one leg over the other and sip my lemonade again. "Keeping our heads down is how we've survived all these years. We didn't have our parents to protect us for long, so we had to learn to look after ourselves. Not an uncommon story here."

Sylus doesn't say anything for a minute, but ultimately asks the question. "What happened to them?"

I take a minute to think, to decide if I want to have this conversation or not. I haven't spoken about my parents much, not even with my own brothers, but I want to share my story with him. I don't know why or where it stems from, maybe this is something that's just been building and needs a release, but I trust Sylus with my welfare, my very life. I can trust him with this fragile part of me, I think.

"Two years after the Chronorift Catastrophe hit, my mom disappeared. She didn't take any of her belongings, didn't leave a note, just vanished. She was struggling mentally, even before the catastrophe. Drew and Mateo, my older twin brothers, think she had some kind of mental break. I think something happened to her, but Simon and Troy, the younger twins, they believe my dad is responsible for her disappearance." A lump forms in my throat, but I quickly swallow it down. I want to share my story, but I don't want to break down over it. "Without her, my dad started to spiral. He started drinking, would get frustrated with Simon and Troy for no reason - though looking back, I can't help but wonder if he blamed them for whatever happened to Mom. Her mental state got noticeably worse after they were born. He walked out on us three years later, and it's been my brothers and I ever since."

I've been staring at my lap this entire time, and it's only after I finish that I find the courage to look up. Sylus' expression is calm, but the way he watches me, has his head tilted ever so slightly, is a testament to how intently he's listening. With his sharp facial structure, I wouldn't say he necessarily looks kind, but I don't think I've ever seen him so gentle before.

"Of the five of you, you're the one who shoulders the most." He says, phrasing it more as a fact rather than a question. As if, in this short peak he's had into my life, he's come to know what role we all play.

No, that's not the truth. I wouldn't have been at that gemstone auction if I didn't feel the weight of my family on my shoulders. Sylus has known since then.

"Simon and Troy are teenagers. I want them to just be teenagers. Drew and Mateo were doing the best they could. I'm just more... disciplined." I'm sure that's got something to do with me raising Simon and Troy as the only female figure in their lives, but that's a thought to be explored another day. "The older two have gotten themselves back on track. They've really stepped up these past few months."

Not long after Sylus hired me, Drew and Mateo switched to the nightclub's daytime cleaning crew. As far as I know, they haven't been visiting the dancers, but now that we're not financially struggling anymore, I'm not as worried about it. Even if they decide to visit them again, as long as they're keeping up their share of household chores and bills, I won't pry into their business.

"I haven't gotten to thank you properly, Sylus." The words slip out before I can stop them. "So, thank you. For giving me a chance."

His exhale is long and slow. "You're welcome."

Downing the last of my lemonade, I stand up. "Alright, sad talk over. This bookshelf isn't going to build itself. Oh yeah," I turn to face him. "You never did end up telling me what I should pay you for your hard work today."

Sylus rises to his feet. "Consider me paid."

Water still clinging to his skin, Sylus steps out of his lavish shower and heads to the robe laid out on his bed. He dresses before taking a seat on one of the leather chairs next to the fireplace, picking up a tablet and connecting to Mephisto's surveillance system. He changed the crow's route to include the street his assistant now lives on, and though the bird is completely mechanical, his A.I allows him just enough autonomy to have a temper.

And, apparently, enough to take a liking to a particular woman.

As the video feed loads in, Sylus recognizes the room Mephisto is peering into. It's a room he stood in several days ago, one with yellow walls and a brown bed and a bookcase he put together by hand. It's since been stacked full of books, not an inch of space left. From what Sylus can tell, Mephisto wasn't sitting outside the window, but is actually inside. Evie must have invited him in.

Mephisto's auditory system picks up on music, a rather upbeat song women his assistant's age would enjoy at a party or a club. Not only that, but he can pick out Evie's voice. Sylus has caught her singing in her office from time to time, her voice a true beauty he couldn't stop himself from pausing to listen to. He's never made his presence in those moments known, for he got the sense that she would be too shy to continue if she knew he was listening.

As for the woman herself-

Sylus snickers as Evie dances around her room in a white T-shirt and fuzzy pink leggings, a hairbrush grasped in her hand like a microphone as she seemingly puts on a concert for Mephisto. Her hair is wet, flying around her face as she moves, her skin free of makeup but no less pretty.

Sylus presses a fist against his mouth as he watches her, the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement as she sings and dances her selfless little heart out. He manages to keep his composure, but when pulls a broom out of nowhere and starts dancing with it-

The boss of Onychinus can't stop his shoulders from shaking as he laughs so hard, his gut feels like it's been punched.

Masterlist

Chapter Eight ->

Tag List:

@xxfaithlynxx @angelafinstone

[lunafeatherart]

I refuse to accept the shorty erasure Bioware is trying to foist on Nevemancers 😤

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 2

[Pt. 1] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 4] [Pt. 5] [Pt. 6]

[freemansasks]

...okay, here. Consider this a post-credits canon scene, three years in the making! Merry Christmas, nerds <3

[daily-oliver-swift]

I like these two a normal amount

Day 54 of drawing Oliver Swift everyday until I get on HRT

[pocket-lin]

For the fandom asks, numbers 9 and 20 please!

hello stranger!! thank you for making that fandom ask game, this has been so fun!!

I answered 9 (for the hp fandom) and 20 here, and 9 for the sandman fandom here, but I'm gonna do 9 again for another fandom because I'm enjoying this so much!

9. a ship that isn't your OTP but that you enjoy

when I got back into fandom in 2022, I realized how much I had completely fucking missed in the 8-10 years that I'd been away from it (huge shoutout to abusive relationships!! 0/10 do not recommend!). one of the first of my "old" fandoms I looked into on ao3 was check please! zimbits truly is my otp (which I'm now realizing is one of my rare actual canon ships??) but of course ya boy took a peek into the bitty/parse/jack ship tag and fell totally in love with the trio (also now realizing how many polyam ships I love, which is bizarre if you know me irl). I think I am forever chasing the high that I got from the Hat Trick Hearts series by SomewheresSword. highly highly highly recommend!!

[waywardsalt]

oc x canon is so fun. creating the right little guy for my blorbo

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the many firsts

a/n: you have no idea how many times while writing this first instalment that i needed to take a break, if you know what i meaannn 🫠

summary: “alright, I’m sorry, geez,” Steve huffed with only a whisper of sincerity, “just come tonight, please? I mean, have you ever even been to a real party before? So how would you know that you don’t like it if you’ve never tried it? Just stop by for a second, and if it’s not for you, then you can just leave, simple as that.” 

warnings: innocent!reader x stepbro!steve rogers, frat!bucky barnes, frat!ari levinson, smut, dark content, college au, move in day at university, frat party, alcohol consumption, kissing, virgin!reader, corruption kink, voyeurism, overstimulation, first orgasm, edging, dirty talk, size kink, masturbation, handjob

word count: 8043

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

take her under your wing au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

masterlist | join my taglist 

“Thanks for the ride,” you uttered as Steve’s car finally rolled to a stop in the campus parking lot. Cracking open the passenger side door, you slipped out and trailed back to open up the trunk, “but I can do this on my own, you know,” as the lid floated up to reveal the Tetris-like stacks of both of your stuff, you glanced up at Steve as he rounded the corner of the vehicle as well, “you really don’t have to keep up your end of the deal, our parents aren’t here to see.” 

“It’s alright,” his burly arm reached over you to fish out a laundry basket stuffed to the brim with your things, “I know it was just your mom babying you as usual and whispering in my dad’s ear to get him to make me watch after you.” 

“She doesn’t baby me, she just cares, a lot…” you shot back defensively, “and I don’t need anyone to watch out for me. I’m eighteen, not seven.” 

“Oh yeah?” he let out a faint scoff, “so you wanna just haul all this junk around campus, looking for your dorm, which you have no clue where is yet?” 

Your eyes then slowly narrowed in his direction before you muttered, “…well, maybe you could give me just a bit of a hand… just in the name of saving time instead of wasting my first day getting lost.” 

And as you filled your arms with as much stuff as you could carry, Steve noted, “hey, I'm not offering to be your fucking tour guide,” as he slammed the trunk shut behind you, “don’t worry, I won’t now try to make you suddenly like me,” he spoke of the ship that sailed away a long time ago. 

Arms full, you crossed the crowded parking lot till you reached one of the open gates leading into a lush green area where little paths weaved across the lawns and connected all of the towering buildings. 

“Welcome to Highridge University,” Steve breathed as you walked under the gateway, “best fucking years of your life.” 

For so long, you had dreamt of this moment, finally being out on your own, away at college, meeting kindred spirits and sipping from the well of knowledge. Glancing around, your teeth clamped down on the smile that rapidly grew and faintly calmed the jittery nerves that still tensed up your abdomen in nauseating butterflies. 

“Where are you gonna live, again?” his glance briefly drifted to you. 

“Uh…” one-handed, you swiftly scrambled to get out the papers folded up in your pocket, “… Manning Hall, room eight,” you read out loud once you finally found the information on the crumbled piece of paper. 

“Manning, alright,” he exhaled, “I started out in Lichfield myself, but I’ve, uh–, dated a few girls who lived in Manning,” his comment promptly caused your eyes to roll in your skull before your feet began to shuffle after him as he led the way. 

As you tried to keep up with his long stride, you watched as his gaze suddenly dipped to the contents of the laundry basket he carried before something caught his eye. 

“Ah, no way,” he chuckled as he shifted the hamper to free his one arm and snatch up an item, “I can’t believe you brought this with you.” 

Glancing over, fury swiftly began to simmer in your chest as you watched him clutch the brown plush bovine visage of Chocolate Milk, an old stuffed animal of yours. 

“Hey!” you swiftly snatched the soft cow out of his hand. 

But the loss didn’t get to diminish his flame as he only spotted the others buried deeper within the basket, hidden beneath the mass of Chocolate Milk, “oh my god, there’s more!”

“Will you please stop?” you begged as he picked up both an ivory bunny and a caramel-coloured bear, “okay, fine, so I brought a few stuffed animals with me, big whoop!” you screeched in hopes that he would for once show you an ounce of mercy as this was in fact your first time being away from home, so the sense of comfort that those toys brought seemed better than if you’d begged your own mother to stay with you till you settled in. 

But even when Steve let go of the teddy bears and settled them back into the hamper, his laughter still continued to rumble in his chest, “oh, you’re so adorable, fuck…” 

His laughter had thankfully subsided by the time you reached Manning Hall. Once you’d received your key, your feet began to carry you down the long corridors in search of your new home. 

When you found the correct door, it already stood ajar, prompting you to slowly push it open before you peeked your head inside. 

On the floor, next to one of the nightstands, there sat a dark-haired girl your age, haphazardly stuffing the small drawer with some of her things. 

“Hi,” you gently tapped your knuckles against the open door before crossing the threshold. 

Glancing over her shoulder, her eyebrows floated up before she exclaimed, “oh! You must be my roommate!” before she sprang up and rushed towards you, “hey, I’m Kate,” she reached out to shake your hand. 

Setting down enough stuff to free one palm, you grasped hers and offered her a timid smile, “nice to meet you, I’m Y/n.” 

Coming in behind you, Steve bumped against your side as he squeezed his eclipsing form in through the doorway, “where do you want this shit?”

“Oh,” you tried to get out of the way before his stride tumbled you down, “on the bed is fine, I think,” you gestured to the empty one. 

Slipping in past you both, Kate then asked as he placed the hamper down on the small mattress, “is this your boyfriend?”

You nearly choked on your giggle as your wide eyes soared to stare back at her, “him? My boy–, no,” you tried your best to ignore the flutter that tingled deep within your belly at her assumption, “that’s my stepbrother. He’s just already a senior here, so we drove together.” 

“Oh,” she exhaled before her face screwed up in immediate regret, “sorry.” 

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, your stepbrother briefly glanced down at the screen before muttering, “well, I'll let you girls talk. I'm gonna go grab the rest from the car and then be on my way.” 

Offering him a small nod, your gaze shadowed him as he exited the small dorm room, your eyes only ripping away from his fading visage down the hall when Kate soon uttered, “hey, I was about to go get my student ID. You wanna join?”

“Sure,” you nodded, stuffing both of your hands in your pockets, “do you know where it is?”

“Actually, I do,” she cocked her head proudly before sharing, “my girlfriend goes here, so I’ve already been visiting this place for an entire year.” 

“Wait, wait, wait, let me readjust my grip,” the frat bro with a buzzcut wheezed to the other guy carrying the heavy beer keg. They were barely halfway up the steps that led to the fraternity’s porch as you approached. 

“Seriously?” the one that looked like a Norse god halted with a huff, “you can’t keep pausing every five seconds or we won’t get this thing inside till next year!” 

“Hi,” the quiet tone of your voice caused them to drop their squabble as both of their eyes promptly drifted directly towards you, “I’m sorry, is this the Kappa Alpha Nu house?”

“It most certainly is, gorgeous,” the blonde one let his stare take a journey down over your frame, “why? You wanna join?”

“No,” you shook your head, “I'm just looking for someone.”

“Okay,” the other one nodded, “well I'm pretty sure everyone’s inside,” his head invitingly tilted towards the open front door behind them before he added, “except for if you’re looking for Frank or Billy, they haven’t arrived yet.” 

Slipping in behind them, the entryway that met you was generous and wide, with a broad staircase off to the side that stretched up to an open landing where numerous hallways spewed forth and weaved deeper into the house. Peeking around, you first poked your head inside the living room that bloomed off to the left, though the room that met you was completely vacant. 

Though as you twisted to take your search somewhere else, a figure appeared from out of nowhere, curving around the corner, before you blindly bumped directly into the mass. 

“Ow, fuck!” he cursed before you stepped off his toes that your shoes had accidentally stomped down on in the collision.

“Shit, sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going–…” your apology then promptly faded from your lips as you blinked up into the blue eyes of none other than Bucky Barnes. 

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” your stepbrother’s best friend blinked back into your wide eyes before his glance dipped down to the deep neckline of your shirt, “and since when did these stop being mosquito bites?” he teased as a smirk began to bloom on his lips. 

As you then tugged at your shirt to cover up more of your cleavage, Bucky only continued to brashly stare.  

“Do you know where Steve is?” you avoided his inappropriate comment with a roll of your eyes. 

“Yeah, he should be down any second,” his brawny arm curled up before he leaned his weight against the wall behind you, “so, how the hell are you? Taken any showers lately?” he briefly wiggled his brows, recalling the time over the summer when he had come over to hang out with his friend, only to naturally walk into your bathroom right as you were washing shampoo out of your hair. 

“I’m fine,” you sighed as your cheeks began to burn, “glad to finally have a bathroom door with a lock that actually works.” 

But then, before Bucky could torment you any further, three separate pairs of footsteps creaked on the staircase. 

“Hey, Buck,” you heard Steve call out before he reached the bottom of the steps, “did you remember to invite the Delta Phi girls tonight, because–,” his sentence then crumbled as his gaze landed upon you. Stopping in his tracks, he blinked down at you with his eyebrows harshly knitted together before his glare flickered to his friend, “what is she doing here?” 

Crossing the width of the entryway, you dipped your fingers into your pocket and said, “you forgot your phone in my room,” before you fished the device out and stretched it up towards him. 

Finally crossing over the threshold behind you, the two guys hauling the keg perked up, “already trying out the new wares on campus? Nice.”

“What?” you twisted around to glare at them, your heart suddenly thumping in your chest, “I’m his stepsister…”

“Oh…” one of the guys on the staircase beside Steve murmured before turning to utter closer to him, “this is her? Seriously?” though hushed, his voice was still loud enough for each and every person in the room to hear what he said, “that’s your stepsister?” 

The clearly lewd undertones of his cadence flew directly over your head as you then blinked up at Steve and asked, “you told them about me?”

“Oh yeah, he has,” the shaggy-haired one on the other side of your stepbrother eyed you a moment before he shifted down the last steps, “I'm Ari, president of this madhouse,” the towering man leaned against the thick bannister before he pointed out each other fraternity members surrounding him, “this is Marc, Thor, Curtis and I'm guessing you already know Bucky.”

“Yeah,” you briefly entertained Bucky and threw a glare over your shoulder at him, “our paths unfortunately crossed back in high school.” 

As your eyes fluttered back, Ari, still standing tall before you, tilted his head and asked, “you stopping by our annual beginning of the semester bash tonight?” 

“Oh,” you breathed, taken aback by the unexpected invitation, “thanks, but I don’t think I should. I have freshman assembly early tomorrow morning, and anyhow, I’m not really much of a party girl,” your fingers began to fiddle with the hem of your sleeve. 

But then, before you could share any more of your completely valid reasons, Steve spoke up, “oh, come on,” he nearly groaned, “I was told to take you under my wing, so I can’t very well stand around and let you waste away your college years just like you did back in high school.” 

“What’s wrong with how I spent those years?” you scoffed and crossed your arms across your chest. 

“Uh, you had no life, no friends, nothing,” he counted on his fingers, “you were basically a nun.” 

Throwing your hands up into the air, you exclaimed, “oh, well, I’m sorry we can’t all be the fucking prom king and go to parties every weekend without it affecting one’s GPA!” 

“Alright, I’m sorry, geez,” Steve huffed with only a whisper of sincerity, “just come tonight, please? I mean, have you ever even been to a real party before? So how would you know that you don’t like it if you’ve never tried it? Just stop by for a second, and if it’s not for you, then you can just leave, simple as that.” 

“Drinks for the beautiful ladies,” Lloyd winked as he and Bucky slithered into the cluster of sorority girls to hand out some beverages. You were leaning up against the nearby wall, shyly only having one foot into the conversation as your new roommate, who now stood with her arm around her girlfriend, Yelena, encouraged you to join in and meet everybody. 

“Fuck off, Lloyd,” the redheaded ringleader of the girls barked after she’d seized a cup from him, “I can’t deal with you tonight.”

“Still playing hard to get, I see,” Lloyd only smirked back at Natasha’s scowl. 

“Oh, I very much am not,” she uttered coldly. 

“See, every party you tell me that and every party, I don’t care. It’s part of our thing,” he briefly waved a finger between the both of them. 

“It is not part of our thing, we don’t have a thing, we will never have a thing.” 

Though his feet didn’t shift at her warning, as his stare only narrowed to a squint before he concluded, “…so what you’re saying is there’s a chance.” 

“Just leave me alone,” she threw up a hand between them to shield her from any more of his desperate attempts, “go flirt with some sad, lonely freshman.”

Though as you watched from the sidelines, you swiftly felt yourself stiffen up as Lloyd suddenly saddled up next to you and flashed you a dazzling grin, “hello… are you by any chance sad and lonely?” 

Sucking in a breath, you nervously blinked up at him, “not particularly.” 

But before the frat guy could make any other attempts, and make you that much further overwhelmed, Bucky’s palm landed on Lloyd’s shoulder before he offered him a band-aid for the rejections.  

“Hey, I think I saw those twins from Callahan’s class out on the dance floor a bit ago,” he leaned in slightly to utter over the booming music that rattled the entire frat house. 

“Really?” Lloyd gasped, promptly renewed with vigour before he darted off, leaving Bucky alone next to you.  

“He seems… nice,” you tilted your head as your gaze traced him onto the dance floor, briefly flickering to Thor behind them all as he controlled the music and put his own spin on it. 

“Ah, he’s not that bad when he’s sober,” Bucky shrugged before shifting to face you, “here,” he then held out a plastic cup for you to grasp.  

“Oh, I’m not really much of a drinker–,” you tried to protest before Bucky rolled his eyes and shoved the beverage into your hand, “oh, okay, sure,” you blinked back into his steely blue eyes as he then brought the cup up to your lips and guided you to take a large gulp. The searing sting caused you to swiftly tilt your head back down as you then coughed because of how strong it was, “oh my god, what is that?”

“Just drink it, it’ll help, trust me,” he urged as you stared down into the well of what must have been pure liquor. 

Cautiously, you took the older guy’s advice, sipping slowly as you let your gaze wander the space, though as you did, you expected Bucky to leave, but to your surprise, he didn’t shift to move away from your side, which then only caused a timid bubble to ache within your belly as your stare nervously flickered up to him, clueless as to what you should do next.  

“So…” you exhaled tensely as you tried to make conversation, “you guys do this kind of thing a lot? Throw parties here?” 

“Yeah, pretty much every weekend,” Bucky nodded after taking a sip of his own drink, “although this one in particular, the beginning of the year bash, it always gets a bit wild. Probably because we haven’t seen each other all summer long, so some years it gets a bit out of hand.” 

“Oh… like, how wild do you mean? Does it turn into a clue movie?” you half-joked. 

“No, nothing quite like that,” he chuckled at your slight terror, “although Scott did almost drown in the pool one time, so…” he shared, pointing to the man erratically shaking his thing in the centre of the dance floor, “he was fine, woke back up, but just don’t get alarmed if anyone pulls something particularly stupid before the sun comes up.”

Pursing your lips, you nodded faintly, “thanks for the tip.” 

As your gaze continued to flicker across the expansive space and the drunken students letting loose, his own stayed glued to you before you eventually heard him utter, “so, have you gotten the grand tour yet?”

“What?” your neck swiftly twisted in his direction.  

“Of the house,” he faintly gestured to the walls around him. 

“…you wanna show me around?” 

“Sure,” he shrugged, “well, I’m kinda just waiting around for it to become my team’s turn in beer pong, so I’ve got the time to kill.” 

“Oh, alright,” you breathed, your pulse suddenly picking up at the thought of wandering the halls by his side. 

“Cool,” he nodded before shifting his gaze to the room you already stood in, “so, this is the place,” he spread out an arm as if you hadn’t just been standing in this spot for twenty minutes. 

“Yeah, I already figured that one out on my own,” you chuckled briefly before the palm he slid over your lower back caused it to fade away. 

With his hold, he guided you around the corner, into the entryway, “so, the kitchen, dining room and the door to the basement are through there,” he then pointed to the different corners of the abode, “and through there is the living room and this room we use for meetings and shit.” 

He then ushered you upstairs, where barely any partygoers had ventured up. Pointing down the various long hallways, he guided your vision to the different doors all down each of them, “so, Frank, Billy, Curtis and Miguel’s rooms are down that way,” he then gestured to the opposite direction, “Scott, Thor, Lloyd, Ransom and Marc are down there,” before his feet then shifted down the last corridor, “and down here is my room,” he pointed to the closed door that had his name on it, “Steve’s, Andy’s and Ari’s.”

Though as he spoke, your eyes fluttered to the door at the end of the hallway, standing slightly ajar. The movement that caught your eye on the other side caused you to swiftly glance to Bucky with a look of alarm, though he clearly couldn’t spot it from where he was standing as he continued to chat, his voice soon fading and flying over your head as your stare wandered back towards the dark room. 

On a bed in the centre of the room, there was Ari, hovering and grunting above some blonde girl you didn’t recognise. It took a second for you to realise what they were doing, though when it sank in, a small gasp escaped your lips and caused the leader’s eye to snap up from the whimpering girl beneath him and lock with your own stare through the sliver. You wanted to look away, you knew that you should have, but you couldn’t. 

And as you stood there, paralysed and suddenly panting, a wide grin began to bloom upon his lips as he held your eye and began to roll his hips with even more force, causing the chick on the bed to nearly fall off the mattress as each thrust drove her closer and closer to the edge. 

Though as you finally managed to snap out of your trance, you nearly coughed as you scrambled to blink back to Bucky, “I’m sorry, what did you just say?” 

“I said that I’m gonna go take a leak,” Bucky cocked an eyebrow as he watched your chest rise and fall rapidly beneath your shirt, “you good?”

“Yeah,” you breathed foggily, “I think I just need a second before heading back downstairs again…”

“Oh, well, I'm sure you can go hang out in Steve’s room for a bit,” he cracked open the door behind him and gestured for you to slip inside. 

Slowly, your feet shuffled deeper into the room, the plastic cup in your hand soon resting on the windowsill as you momentarily cast your glance outside at the people down in the front yard, playing a rambunctious drinking game. 

Though as your frame sank down with an exhale to sit on the edge of the bed, your head swiftly burying itself in your hands, loud moans seeped through the wall from the other room as they crescendoed in a cacophony that caused your head to spin. 

Or perhaps it wasn’t just the lewd acts that were to blame for why you suddenly felt so dizzy. Ground unsteady beneath your feet, even though you were already sitting down, you noticed how inebriated you truly had become. Not that you had imbibed that much, but as the lightweight that you admittedly were and the minuscule experience your body had with such substances, it didn’t take much to have you feeling more molten than you ever had before. 

“What are you doing up here?” you suddenly heard, causing your face to crawl out of its hiding place in your palms. Glancing up, you saw Steve’s shadow in the doorway.  

“Steve!” you jumped slightly at his unexpected arrival, “you scared me,” you clutched your chest gently as you watched him shut the door behind him. 

Moving over towards the desk in the corner, he briefly dipped down to find a bottle of whisky that rested in the bottom drawer. Casting a glance back at you over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed as he studied your form, “did I just walk in on something?” he asked as he unscrewed the lid, “you waiting for someone to come up here and fuck you on my bed? Kinky.”

“What? N-no! Oh my god, no,” you sputtered, sensing a mortified heat rush up to your cheeks, “I swear, Bucky was just showing me around a bit, and I wasn’t ready to go back to the chaos downstairs yet, that’s all, he was the one who said it was okay for me to take a break in here.”

“Hmm… you’re still sweet on him, aren’t you?” he guessed before tilting the bottle back for a swig, “is that what was happening here? Were you waiting for him to get back? Did I just cockblock you from finally getting that stick fucked out of your ass? If so, then I feel like I have a responsibility to warn you, he is hung like a fucking horse, so don’t be discouraged if you can’t take him.” 

“I–, what?” you panted, blinking back at him wildly, “no, I’m not! I-I don’t like him, I’ve never–, what are you talking about?” 

“Chill! I’m only joking,” Steve swiftly chuckled at your perplexed panic, “I mean, not about his size, both a blessing and a curse, you know,” he cocked his head, “seriously, you don’t gotta freak out like some innocent little virgin,” he laughed, though his words only caused you to freeze up, a reaction he swiftly picked up on, “…unless you–, oh shit,” growing silent, his stare stayed glued on you as he slowly sat the bottle in his hand down upon the desk behind him, “you are, aren’t you?” 

“Well, you don’t gotta say it like that!” you groaned, keeping your eyes averted to the floor, “it’s not some terminal illness.”

“Sorry, no, I didn’t mean it like that, I just–… fuck…” he exhaled, “really?” 

“…yeah,” you nervously fiddled with the hem of your skirt as you felt the mattress dip beside you, “you know my mom has never let me date anyone…”

“What about like other stuff?” Steve’s tone tickled your hot skin as he now sat right next to you, “you’ve done that, right?” though you only managed to meekly shake your head as an answer, “really? No one’s ever like touched you before? Or you’ve played with someone else?” he pried, and you once again shook your burning face from side to side, “wow,” he exhaled, “well, then I can’t even begin to imagine how much you must masturbate, damn.”

“I–, I–…” you tried to utter, though the truth of your inexperience seemed too difficult to say out loud, rendering you to once again wobble your head. 

“Wait, seriously?” his eyebrows soared up even higher, “you haven’t that either?”

“Well, I’ve–, sort of–, I don’t know,” you stumbled, your gaze still hazy on the floor. 

“How have you done it?” he then asked, making it that much harder for you to fill up your lungs with oxygen. 

“Oh god,” you jaggedly shifted your vision to the ceiling, “this is so mortifying.”

“No, it’s okay, you can tell me,” he pushed in a gentle tone you didn’t think he had in him. 

Gnawing at your bottom lip till a metallic taste met your tongue, you hesitantly muttered, “…kinda just, I guess, sit on a pillow or a stuffed animal or something and then–…”

“Shit…” a low groan rumbled in his chest, a sound that shot straight down between your thighs and worsened the throbbing already distracting you down there, “that’s the only thing you do? You just hump your pretty little pillow till you cum?”

“Well, I don’t know if I–, uh, reach that per say, I just kind of rock till it builds and then I’ve always stopped because–, I don’t know…” you uttered, mortified that your inebriated state had nudged you to share such matters, especially with him, “it’s stupid, I know. My anatomy knowledge is great, much better than yours, I know where stuff is and how things technically work, but when I was younger, I know it’s dumb, but it all kind of scared me, like what if I did it wrong and ruined something, and I know now that statistically speaking the odds of something like that happening are really, really low, but–, yeah…” 

Steve’s eyes never left you for but a second, merely stared as you shared and eventually, after silence had swept through the room like a crisp breeze, he parted his lips and uttered, “do you want me to teach you?”

Finally, you turned your head to meet his gaze, “…you’re my stepbrother…” 

“Yeah, of a couple of years,” he had the audacity to shrug, “and for most of that time, I’ve been away at school, so like, are we really?” 

A stunned scoff then bubbled out of your throat, “our parents are married, so yes, that makes up stepsiblings.” 

“Well, for now,” he tilted his head slightly, “were you living in the same house as I was over this summer? They clearly aren’t newlyweds anymore…” he stated before leaning in closer, “so, what do you say? Will you let me help you?” your eyes flickered down to your knee as his knuckles slowly inched closer and ghosted against your skin, “I promise, it’ll feel so fucking good, you don’t even know…” he nearly whispered as if he was trying to sell you on a drug you’d instantly get addicted to. 

“I–…” you panted, “but wouldn’t it be weird that it’s you showing me?”

“No, it wouldn’t be weird at all,” his head gently shook from side to side, “unless you want me to go grab Bucky, I'm sure he wouldn’t mind either–”

“No, no!” you swiftly squeaked, “that’s not necessary,” as sharing such a secret with Steve had been bad enough, the thought of repeating the whole ordeal with someone else made you feel as if you might faint. 

“Okay,” he breathed before he slowly began to inch closer, an action you swiftly put a stop to when you pressed a palm to his chest.

“Wait, what if I don’t like it?”

“Then you just tell me, and I’ll stop,” one of his hands floated up to rest on top of your own, still pressed against him, “promise,” he offered you a reassuring smile. Steve’s glance then flickered down to your lips before his eyebrows twitched slightly as he wondered, “so, if you’ve never done any of that stuff before, does that mean you’ve also never been kissed?”

“…well, I've played spin the bottle a few times, many years ago, does that count?” you recalled the awkward pecks in your youth. 

“Not really,” the corners of his lips twitched before he asked you, “can I kiss you?”

“Can you–…” you echoed faintly before whispering, “okay,” utterly spellbound as you stared back at him, “what should I do?”

“Just relax,” he then gently grabbed each side of your face with his wide hands, “and follow my lead.” 

It simultaneously felt like an eternity as well as only the blink of an eye before Steve had closed the gap and pressed his lips to your own. At first, it was soft and slow, his right thumb briefly swiping against your cheekbone as he kissed you, but then you felt his tongue flicker forth, making you gasp, before he seized that opportunity to slip past your guard and let his tongue dance against your own, the sensation of which caused you to positively melt as you relaxed into the kiss and mirrored his efforts. 

You had no clue how much time had passed once you finally parted, and you blinked your dazed eyes back at him. 

And in your haze, he first shifted back deeper onto the bed, before he gently manoeuvred your frame to slot you in between his legs, “here, lean back against me,” he drew you closer till your back was pressed up against his chest. 

Twisting your neck to look up at him, you were still too stunned to speak, only suck in a shaky breath as he then pressed a peck to your temple. 

“You ready?” he murmured against your hairline as his hands slid down atop your own, his fingers swiftly interlocking with your smaller ones. 

“I think so,” you uttered nervously. 

“So, let’s start off with the basics,” his low voice only worsened the tingly sensation that now roared in your body like a roiling flame, “could you tell me what places you’ve explored before and where you haven’t yet?”

“…well, I guess I’ve touched most places before…” you hesitantly began, “my hands usually run all over my body when I–, you know… but I’ve never put anything inside, and I only touched my–, uhm, clit one time, a really long ago,” your confession began to make you feel so dizzy, you feared you might faint at any moment, “and it was just really intense and–, I don’t know, I was scared that it was too much, so I never tried it again, not directly anyway, just–, you know, pillows and such…” 

“Alright,” he uttered, letting go of your hands. 

Your eyes grew as they then traced Steve’s touch, first sweeping up to gently cup both of your boobs. Your cunt clenched around nothing as he briefly brushed his thumbs over the pebbles of your nipples, poking through the thin fabric of your shirt. You found yourself barely breathing when he eventually let his palms roam further south till they were at your hips, and his fingers began to hike up your skirt and let it crumble around your waist. 

“Let me see…” he murmured directly in your ear as he poked at your bent legs to pry them open, “oh my god, look at you…” you felt the deep groan vibrate in his chest as he caught sight of your panties and the embarrassingly soaked patch darkening the cotton, “you are so fucking wet…”

Steve then slowly slid his touch down over your covered core, merely cupping your lightly, though still making it near impossible for you to breathe. But your whole body twitched as he lightly curled up his hand till only the tips of his fingers still grazed you, before he then began to draw a feathery pattern of circles, tickling your deprived centre. 

“How does that feel, huh?” he kept up the ghostly touch. 

“I-it’s–, o-oh my god,” you whimpered, doubtful if you could take whatever else he’d dare to throw at you when even such a light touch managed to make you tremble, “Steve.”

Seizing his teasing, his fingers then hooked in the hem of your underwear before pulling them to the side, sticky strings of your arousal clinging to the cotton, “oh, fuck…” he groaned before his instincts overtook him and his fingers caught the waistband before ripping them down your legs till their rushed journey halted at your ankles, resting around them and loosely trapping them together. 

Pushing your legs further apart, one hand then traced your inner thigh while he hooked his other burly arm across your chest, just beneath the swell of your tits, occasionally squeezing so tightly that your boobs were pushed up even higher as he efficiently strapped you in, impossibly close to his broad chest. 

Painstakingly slow, he slid his touch closer and closer to your glistening core, till he reached the places that you never had the nerve to truly touch on your own.

“Oh, f-fuck!” you gasped as the rough pads of his fingers just lightly dragged through your folds. 

“Christ, you’re sensitive,” he kept on peeking over your shoulder as he drew a slow circle over your clit, “look at you, fucking trembling like a leaf, and I've barely touched you yet.”

“Barely?” you echoed breathlessly, “what do you mean–, how is this barely? I-I don’t know if I can–, it’s–, fuck,” you whimpered against his touch, “it’s too much,” your thighs trembled on either side of his wide palm, “I don’t know if I can take it, I think you might have to stop.” 

“No, no, no, it’s not too much, you can take it, I know you can,” he urged before he bent his strong legs and hooked them over your own, trapping your wiggly limbs and holding you down and open for him, “just trust me, I’ve got you, all you gotta do is just relax, okay? Just give into it.” 

His feathery pressure on your puffy pearl then increased, making your hips buck beneath his touch as a moan rippled out from deep within your lungs.

“Oh, fucking hell, there you go,” he smiled from behind you, “look at that little pussy, fucking crying out now that she’s finally getting some attention.”

Your fingers twitched just beneath his arm, still flexing over your ribs, and a murmur slipped out past your whimpers, “I can’t believe this is actually happening…” 

Though as Steve’s touch drove you mad, his fingers slipped down to catch some of the slick that leaked out of your untouched hole, before he went into autopilot and didn’t sweep back up to bully your glistening clit, but instead began to circle your virginal entrance. 

“No, wait,” you instantly began to freak out, “n-not there!” 

“You sure?” he let himself trace your tight opening one last time, “alright, maybe next time then…” 

Once his fingers had swept back up and focused in on your puffy pearl, rolling it firmly beneath his touch, you felt your body reach the agonising point where you’d always chicken out. 

“Steve, I–”

“Hm?” he hummed in your ear and kept up his efforts, surely feeling your clit throb beneath his fingers, “you getting close?”

“I-I–,” you gasped, trying your best to fight the feeling, “this is usually when I stop.” 

“Oh yeah?” you could plainly hear the smirk on his lips. 

“Mhm,” you nodded, staring down at his efforts that barely even paused. 

“So, this is what you’d do, huh? You’d ride your pillow and then just stop?” as he uttered that last word, he abruptly took his hand away, “just leave yourself all edged and needy?” your hips bucked after his fading touch, “that’s usually something I’d do to my girls just to be a menace and make them all dumb and desperate, but that’s just what you do to yourself all of the time?” your whole frame quivered against him as you weakly tried to grab for his hand, even as he brought it completely out of your reach, “damn, gotta admit, wish I had known that earlier… I could have sneaked into your room afterwards and lent a hand, helped you go all the way. That’s what you needed, wasn’t it? You just needed your big bro to come in and hold your hand through it because you got scared? It’s okay, I’m here now, I’ve got you, big brother’s got you.”

“You’re not my brother–” 

“Damn right, I’m not,” he nearly chuckled before he began to touch you once again, rendering any retort you had lined up to fly straight out of the window as shaky moans instead flowed from your lungs.

Though the cruel pause had given your body enough time to calm down just a tad, it barely took any time at all for Steve to push you back towards that intimidating ledge and hold you there as you peeked over the edge. 

“Steve, I don’t know if I can–, it’s–” 

“Baby, it’s okay, you can do it,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “just trust me, it’ll feel so fucking good, you don’t even know,” the hand he had plastered against your ribs slid up to grasp one of your tits, denting the softness with his long fingers, “just let it happen, relax.” 

Shaking uncontrollably, your face tilted to hide in the bulk of his arm as the most blinding and overwhelming sensation you’d ever felt in your entire life rippled through your form, white-hot pleasure in a dose that you hadn’t thought imaginable.

“Oh, there you go, fuck,” he moaned and tried to draw your very first orgasm out as long as he could, “atta girl, that’s it.” 

When his movements finally stopped, his messy hand slipped down to rest against your twitching thigh, hazy whimpers ever flowing from your lungs as you reeled in the staggering sensation. 

“Holy shit…” you eventually managed to pant shakily. 

“Told you it’d feel good,” he uttered cockily before pressing a kiss to your temple. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as he then began to caress your thigh gently, sweeping his touch up and down the goosebump-ridden flesh till your breathing began to slow. 

But then as you felt yourself relax even further back against him, wiggling slightly to get more comfortable, you noticed something hard poking your back. Assuming that it was something in his pocket, you shifted once again, but still couldn’t escape it, though with each of your squirming attempts, a low groan was conjured deep within Steve’s chest.

“What is that?” you then muttered, “is it your phone? Could you take it out of your pocket?”

“No, it’s not my phone,” he couldn’t help but chuckle at your innocence, swiftly causing you to freeze up, “you got me hard.”

Gasping loudly as if he hadn’t just had his hand on your pussy, you shot up to a sitting position and swiftly crawled around to direct your wide eyes straight at him. Skirt falling down to cover you back up, your panties however still remained around your ankles as you shifted to kneel on the bed before him. 

“Oh my god,” the stunned expression plastered all over your face caused him to melt, “you’re so cute…” 

Blinking back at him, you stammered, “that was–… you’re–…” 

“Hard? Yeah,” he casually uttered, “kinda impossible not to be after what just happened,” he let his hand drift down to palm himself through his pants, guiding your vision to flutter down as well to finally look at the prominent bulge that strained against the zipper of his jeans. And as his touch slowly rubbed against the mouthwatering hardness, teasingly squeezing it for an ounce of relief, his head then cocked as he continued to stare at you, “can I ask you something?”

Downright hypnotised as you stared down at the overwhelming display of his arousal, you only managed to hum as a reply, “mhm,” as you stayed transfixed on the clothed hardness that somehow both terrified and exhilarated you at the same time. 

“Have you ever seen a cock before?”

Meeting his unwavering gaze, you blinked, “…in textbooks and stuff…”

“How about up close?” he asked and you swiftly shook your hazy head, “you wanna see mine?”

“I–… what?” 

“Do you wanna see mine?” 

“U-uh…” you could barely think as you felt the sore sensitivity between your unsteady thighs somehow blossom back into the same agonising tingles that had taken hold of you before, “okay.” 

A sharp breath filled your lungs as you watched him free his dick. Your eyes swiftly grew even wider as he enveloped the hand, still glistening with your juices, around the fat girth. Slick and sloppy sounds filled the room with every leisurely stroke as he began to slowly jerk himself, your thighs unconsciously squeezing together at the show. 

“You good?” he chuckled lightly at the way your eyes had gone glassy. 

“Mhm…” you foggily nodded, struggling to grasp onto even a single thought, “it’s–… a lot bigger than I imagined…” 

“Have you been imagining what my cock looked like?” he relentlessly teased. 

“No, no, I mean, just in general,” you fumbled over your words as he kept up his silky strokes, “yours is bigger than I imagined them to be in real life.” 

“You wanna touch it?”

“…t-touch?” your eyes fought to blink back up and lock with Steve’s own. 

“Yeah, come on,” he then grabbed your hand and brought it towards his length. At first, he let you just graze your fingertips against his dick, guiding your touch as he slowly dragged it across the velvety skin, all the way from the bulbous head, glistening with shiny precum that beaded at the tip, to the fat base where his heavy balls bloomed beneath. 

“Oh–,” you swallowed as he then wrapped your fingers around his girth before engulfing them with his own broad hand, still shiny from your wetness, “it’s–, really hard.”

“Yeah, well that’s what you do to me, baby,” he smiled as he tightened his fist around your own, though even so, his girth was still too big for your own fingers to meet on the other side, “this is all for you…” 

His free hand then grabbed your chin before he ravenously pressed his lips to your own, kissing you fiercely as he began to move your hand and guide your touch over his throbbing length. 

Eventually, as you broke from the kiss, you peeped down at his cock, tight in your grasp. 

His fingers kept on clutching your chin, holding you close, as he then purred, “here, like this,” his wide hand flexed around your smaller one, “a little tighter, don’t be scared, you won’t hurt me–, yeah,” he then moaned as you obeyed his command, “fuck, that’s it…” briefly letting his eyes flutter closed as he breathed through the pleasure. Though as he blinked his gaze back open, his broad thumb brushed against your knuckles as he asked, “you wanna try on your own?”

“O-okay,” you uttered before his guiding touch faded and you timidly tried to emulate his efforts, “like this?”

“Yeah, that’s good,” he groaned as you slowly slid your careful touch up and down the length of his cock, “shit, you’re a natural, baby,” his fingers that clutched your chin briefly shifted before his thumb poked up to brush the pad against your bottom lip, “keep going like that and I’ll blow in no fucking time.” 

“Oh,” you swiftly ripped your stare away from his dick as you misunderstood his words, “should I stop then?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he growled before claiming your lips once again, not holding back in the slightest as he let the kiss grow sloppy and desperate. 

Rejoining his touch to your own, he began to speed up your actions, making you stroke his thick girth even faster than before. And as he tilted away from the greedy kiss, a glossy string of saliva still kept you both connected. 

Panting as he neared the finish line, he cast a brief glance down at his fat cock slick in both of your hands, before he threw his head back and moaned loudly as he unravelled at your touch. 

“Fuck…” he panted as he let go of your palm, now sticky with his hot load just as his own hand was as well. Chest still rising and falling rapidly, he caught your frame and tugged you even closer, “come here,” he murmured as he pulled you into a limp hug. 

“Was that okay?” you asked in a small voice as you curled into his chest. 

Catching your jaw, he tilted your head back enough for you to catch his eye before he uttered, “that was fucking perfect,” and he kissed you once again. As he drew back, his gaze lingered, eventually fluttering down towards your lips before he brought his fingers up towards them, still messy with both your nectar as well as his own load, “open up.”

“What?” your brows knit together as you blinked down at the sticky digits he ghosted against your lips, tilting your head back slightly in confusion. 

“Give it a taste.” 

“Why would I do that?” you nearly laughed. 

“Because it’s normal,” the older guy told you, “most people love cleaning up after their messes, so you probably do too.”

“Seriously?” 

“I shit you not,” he said, though you kept on staring back at him in doubt, “what, do you want me to prove it to you? Fine,” he then extended his thumb for him to suck it clean, “there,” he released the dinger from his lips with a pop, “now it’s your turn,” he twisted his hand back down towards your mouth. 

And hesitantly, you found yourself parting your lips for him, “there you go…” he groaned as he slipped two of his long fingers inside your mouth, “see? Tastes good, doesn’t it?” his gaze stayed transfixed upon your lips wrapped around his messy digits as he slowly let himself shift his fingers, greedily fucking your face for a bit, “shit…” he cursed as you licked them clean and he pulled them back out, a murmur swiftly slipping from his lips as he continued to stare, “I can’t wait to train this little mouth to do all sorts of tricks…” 

“What?” you asked as your mind began to scramble for the meaning. 

“Oh, nothing,” he sighed and ignored your naiveté before he pulled you back in for another hug, “nothing at all, sis…”

© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[digitalglitch10110]

RUNNING IN CIRCLES AT THIS

im gonna drive my head thru the wall at how good this is!!!!!!

Commission for @dr-skazka ! Both Ceec and AM designs belong to them!

[rafes-slut]

The cross

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x You (Enemies-to-Allies-to-Betrayal)

Summary:

You and Rafe Cameron were never supposed to be on the same side, but greed makes desperate allies. With the golden cross finally in your possession, you think you've won—until everything goes downhill. When the Pogues storm the ship, Rafe’s paranoia takes over. Convinced you betrayed him, he does the unthinkable.

One shove. Cold water. Open ocean.

Warnings: Betrayal, attempted drowning, violence, language, paranoia, enemies-to-allies tension, themes of survival, morally gray characters.

---

You and Rafe Cameron have never been on the same side before. In fact, you’re practically enemies—both stubborn, reckless, and willing to do whatever it takes to get what you want. But when it comes to the golden cross, you realize you have no choice but to work together.

The partnership is anything but smooth. You have the inside knowledge—whispers of a shipment, hidden clues that no one else has caught onto. Rafe, on the other hand, has the connections, the brute force, and the reckless confidence to get you past security. It’s a temporary alliance, one that neither of you trusts.

Every interaction is a battle. Tense car rides, sharp words, and the constant threat of betrayal hanging in the air. Rafe doesn’t trust you, and you don’t trust him. You both know that when the time comes, only one of you can walk away with everything.

But the deeper you go, the more complicated it gets. Near-death experiences force you to rely on each other. Close encounters with Ward, the Pogues, and even Carla Limbrey keep pushing you together. The constant proximity turns your partnership into something more—something dangerously intoxicating. Late nights spent strategizing turn into lingering stares. Heated arguments turn into something else entirely, something neither of you are ready to name.

---

The golden cross is finally yours. After months of planning, chasing, and risking your lives, you and Rafe finally have it secured. The two of you haul it onto the ship, adrenaline still coursing through your veins as the weight of your victory settles in.

But the celebration doesn’t last. The sound of footsteps—ones that don’t belong to either of you—echoes from the deck above. Before you can react, a gun cocks, and everything spirals out of control.

The Pogues.

They came back for what was theirs, and somehow, they found you. A full-on battle erupts on the ship, chaos spilling across the deck. Fists fly, gunshots crack through the night air, and the ship rocks violently against the waves. You’re dodging attacks, trying to figure out how the hell they knew where to find you, when suddenly—

Rafe turns on you.

There’s a wild, unhinged look in his eyes, one you’ve seen before but never directed at you like this. He grabs your arm, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.

"You snitched," he snarls.

You barely have time to react. "Are you insane? I didn’t—"

But he doesn’t listen. He never does when he’s like this. His paranoia, his obsession, the way he never really trusted you—it all snaps into place as he shoves you backward. Your foot catches on the edge of the ship, and before you can steady yourself, Rafe shoves you again—

And you’re falling.

The cold ocean swallows you whole, the impact knocking the air from your lungs. The salt burns your eyes as you fight to resurface, gasping for breath. Above you, chaos rages on, but Rafe doesn’t look down. He doesn’t hesitate.

He just turned on you.

As the ship grows smaller in the distance, the weight of betrayal sinks in harder than the freezing water around you.

The moment Rafe shoves you, it happens too fast to stop. The cold ocean swallows you whole, knocking the breath from your lungs as you sink beneath the surface. For a terrifying second, everything is black—just endless water, freezing and suffocating, pressing in on all sides. Your arms flail as you fight to break through, lungs burning, heart pounding like a drum in your ears.

When you finally surface, gasping for air, the ship looms above you, rocking violently against the choppy waves. The stormy sea churns around you, sending icy tendrils of panic through your veins. You kick your legs, trying to stay afloat, but the current is strong, the exhaustion creeping in fast.

And then you see him.

Rafe is still standing at the edge of the ship, watching. His grip is white-knuckled on the railing, his chest heaving, his jaw clenched so tight it looks like it might break.

But he doesn’t move.

He doesn’t help you.

He just stands there, eyes locked on yours, breathing hard like he’s trying to convince himself that this is what had to happen. That you betrayed him. That you deserved it.

The waves crash into you again, pulling you under for half a second before you break through, coughing, struggling to keep your head above the water. "Rafe!" You choke on saltwater, reaching toward the ship instinctively, but he still doesn’t move.

The betrayal sinks in deeper than the cold.

"You think I told them?" Your voice is hoarse, shaking, but filled with something else now—rage. "Are you that fucking paranoid?"

His lips part like he wants to say something. Maybe even like he regrets it. But before he can, another gunshot rings out on the deck behind him, and he flinches, whipping his head toward the chaos still unfolding on the ship.

Your limbs are going numb. The current keeps dragging you further, the ship drifting just enough that your fingers grasp at nothing but air. Rafe turns back to you, conflict flashing across his face—like he’s debating whether to pull you up or let the ocean take you.

You hold his gaze, chest rising and falling, waiting for him to make a move.

And then—

The ship lurches.

The cross shifts.

And just like that, the decision is made.

Rafe steps back.

And you’re left to the sea.

[ninus9607]

Lights, Camera, Action! - Elizabeth Olsen

Pairing(s): Elizabeth Olsen x Female! reader

Word count: 12,3K

tags: l content: slow burn, mutual pining, friends to lovers, actress x actress, wlw MCU, smut, dominant! Lizzie, sub! reader, praise kink, possessive! Lizzie, hickeys & marks, dirty talk, soft smut, fluff, and smutpost-sex cuddles

AN: GUYS, I HOPE YOU WILL LIKE IT, PLS FORGIVE ME FOR EVERY MISTAKE

San Diego Comic-Con – Hall H

The lights in Hall H were brilliant, and the atmosphere was electric with expectation. I sat in my seat on the Marvel panel stage, my heart racing faster than it ever had on filming. This wasn't my first visit, but it was the first time anybody noticed I was here.

Two years ago, I played a "blink-and-you 'miss" character in Age of Ultron. A few lines. A powerful scene. A shadow in the midst of chaos. However, fans remembered. Somehow, they remembered.

I suppose Black Raven left a mark.

Kevin Feige came in close to the microphone, smirking as if he were about to unleash a bombshell. "Some of you might remember a mysterious character who appeared briefly in Age of Ultron."

A renegade force, morally gray and extremely strong... "A vampire who left the fight before the dust had settled."

Whispers spread across the room. The phones were already out. My name was already trending before he said anything.

"Well," he added, "I believe it's time she returned. This time, she's not hiding in the shadows.

He turned to face me. "Please welcome back Y/N Salvatore- returning as Y/C/N, also known as Black Raven, in Captain America: Civil War."

The audience exploded. I blinked under the stage lights, giving a little shocked smile as the room took me completely.

"I'm still trying to believe this is real," I added as the ovation went down. "The last time I came here, I got maybe three minutes of screen time and one stunt scene. Now I am here and just Wow!"

Laughter.

I looked down the table, and there she was. Elizabeth Olsen. Sitting a few chairs away and giving me that familiar half-smile. Soft and illegible. There's something more behind it. Curiosity. Recognition.

We hadn't shot anything together yet, not really. There was only one brief interaction in Ultron that never reached the final edit. But fans have been shipping our characters ever since. Perhaps it was the tension.

Perhaps it was the way my character had watched hers walk away from Sokovia, her face empty as if they had exchanged something neither of them could understand.

The Marvel team went on to other announcements, but I could sense excitement rising around me. Questions from the press. Fan art is already overwhelming social media. Speculation.

Wanda Maximoff and Black Raven are two shattered, deadly women on opposing sides of a conflict.

And somehow, they were destined to clash.

I looked across at Lizzie again.

She was still watching me.

God, I had no clue what was going to happen.

By the end of the panel, I felt like I was floating. The shouting of the audience, the dazzling glare of cameras, and the way supporters sang my name as if I'd always been one of them. As if I hadn't just slipped through the gaps in Ultron and nearly vanished for good.

Outside the hall, the air was dense and bustling. Fans flocked behind barriers with posters, comics, and custom art, and I foolishly attempted to stroll past secretly.

Did not work.

"Y/N! Over here!"

"Oh my god, Black Raven!"

"Please sign this!"

I looked down at a poster of my character, dark and majestic in the shadows, fangs barely visible, red flames curling around her fingers. They even got the cloak correctly. And the eyes—burning with something wild.

"I didn't even know people still cared," I said, surprised as I signed the edge.

"They never forgot you," a devoted fan muttered.

I continued signing. Posters. A sketch of Black Raven and Wanda holding hands and staring at one another like lovers. A shirt with the phrase, "I Do Believe In Killing The Messenger. Know Why? Because It Sends A Message." One female gave me a little plush replica of my character. I laughed so hard I almost cried.

That night, when I returned to my hotel room, the adrenaline hadn't even worn off. I threw off my shoes, opened a soda, and cuddled up on the bed in my huge con sweater. Just as I was going to cruise lazily on Instagram, a fresh notification appeared.

"Robert Downey Jr. added you to the group 'Avengers Assemble 💥'"

I blinked. Then blinked again.

A flood of messages came:

(RDJ) well well well. look who's back from the dead

 (Chris E.): about time

 (Tom H.): I've literally been waiting since I was twelve

 (Lizzie 🥀): welcome back, stranger

(ScarJo): don't read the fine print. you're already in too deep

 (Hemsworth 🍺): A VAMPIRE! I KNEW I LIKED YOU

I laughed into my pillow. What the hell is my life right now?

My fingers hovered over the group chat. I typed, deleted, and then finally sent:

 (You): wait... what exactly did I sign up for?

 (RDJ): That's cute. She thinks she has a choice.

(Lizzie 🥀): don't worry. you're safe with us.

 (Lizzie 🥀): ...mostly.

I bit my lip, rereading the last message. My heart did something strange. Probably just the Coke. Or the heat. On the other hand, Lizzie sent a winking emoji immediately after.

I hadn't even read the entire script yet. I wasn't sure where my character was headed. Whether Black Raven would fight with or against Wanda. Whether they were enemies or anything else.

The sun filtered through the hotel drapes, creating a golden and gentle glow. I lay there for a time, taking in the peaceful morning mood. My body hurt in that slow, wonderful manner after yesterday's rush of panels, autographs, and screaming fans. I should have felt tired. I should have grumbled, nestled further into the cushions, and requested for another five minutes.

But I did not.

Because this was the day.

This is my first official Marvel table read since Age of Ultron. My actual return. Not just a postscript. Not as a supporting character with two lines and a beautiful battle scene. But as a true player, Black Raven. People remember the vampire antiheroes.

I took a long shower, letting the water calm my worries, the steam wrapping around me like a comforting blanket. Once dry, I stood in front of the closet for a little moment, just long enough to feel a flutter in my chest.

I wanted to feel like myself. But I also wanted to appear like I belonged here.

I put on cut black pants that hugged my waist well and made me feel quietly strong. A fresh white shirt was tucked in with a relaxed grace, and I layered on a lightweight, long camel coat that murmured gentle luxury.

Small gold hoops, silver rings, and a pair of glossy black loafers that catch the light. No logos. There's no chaos. Simply classic lines and calm assurance.

I left my hair down, brushed and elegant, with a single clip on the side to keep it out of my face. Makeup was clean, smooth, and very effortless. A little brow gel, a pop of color, and tinted lip balm.

I gazed into the mirror.

European subtlety with a biting undertone. That was me!

The studio sent a vehicle. Standard black SUV with silent driver and darkened windows. Very Marvel. I sat in the back with my coffee, pretending I wasn't sweating.

When I got to the lot, someone from production greeted me with a badge and a big smile. "They're all inside already. "You are sitting between Anthony and Lizzie."

"Lizzie?"

"Elizabeth Olsen."

"Cool," I blurted far too hastily. "Cool, cool, cool."

The door to the reading room opened, and I walked into a strange little dream. Long table. Dozens of chairs. Familiar faces, some I'd only seen in films, others I'd met briefly years before.

Scarlett Johansson gave me a wink and a nod. Sebastian Stan lifted his coffee as a toast. Chris Evans grinned and patted me on the back. "About damn time."

Then Lizzie.

She was already sitting, thumbing through the script, her hair in a loose braid, and a comfortable, oversized sweater flowing down one shoulder. She glanced up the instant I walked in, and her face brightened.

Like, genuinely lights up.

"Hey, stranger," she whispered quietly, rising to hug me.

I froze for a half-second. Just a second. Then I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her tightly. She smelled like honey, coffee, and something warm that I couldn't identify.

"You look like you belong here," she said softly against my ear. "You ready to break hearts?"

"Only if you help," I said back.

She drew away, her eyes gleaming with something I couldn't identify.

We sat down. Anthony Mackie leaned in and said, "Just so you know, there are already fan edits of you two spreading."

Lizzie smiled without looking up. "I've seen them."

The reading started.

Tony had lines. So did Steve. But as the image transitioned to Wanda and Black Raven, Wanda stopped outside a decaying structure, her hand lifted in midair as Y/N came from the shadows. I could feel a shift in the collective reaction.

I read my line carefully, eyes fixed on the page. "Did you miss me, little witch?" My European accent went on.

And Lizzie... God! Lizzie's voice dropped an octave. "You were supposed to be dead."

I gazed at her. She stared at me.

The table remained still. Someone let out a faint whistle. Someone another said, "Y'all need a moment?"

We laughed. Just enough to release the stress.

But that moment lasted.

After the reading, everyone went for notes, coffee, and chaos. I found myself near the studio lot, seated on a low wall behind a shade tree, phone in hand, but forgotten. Lizzie stepped up with two iced lattes and offered one to me.

"You were incredible," she stated. "Like you never left."

She raised her head. "Still haven't read the whole script?"

I shake my head. "Trying to savor it. I don't want to learn everything too quickly."

She grinned slowly. "Then I will not spoil it. "But...you and I have some scenes."

"Oh?"  WHAT???????

"Some very close ones." ARE YOU KIDDING ME, MARVEL

My cheekbones warmed. "You say that like it's a problem."

"It's not." She stared me dead in the eyes, funny yet serious below. "Unless you make it one."

And before I could say anything else, before I could even think, she was walking away, sipping her drink, hips swaying like a goddess in worn jeans and an Avengers crew hoodie.

I stared after her, heart hammering like I'd just survived a stunt scene.

Welcome back to Marvel, I thought.

A few months later.

Most of the nervous butterflies had disappeared by this point. The set had become like a second home, filled with familiar voices and traditions. I wasn't simply a new girl anymore. Everyone made it simple.

Chris gave me the nicest bear hugs and always made sure I ate my lunch. Scarlett had the type of cool that made you want to better your game, yet she always welcomed me with a warm smile and a "Hey, superstar." Anthony Mackie was an utter menace - but in the most lovable manner possible. Paul Bettany kept asking me to read poems between takes, saying it was "very Black Raven of you."

And Robert? He was like my dad!

"And Lizzie..." Lizzie was something else completely.

She'd knock on my door, holding a coffee in one hand and a protein snack in the other, as if she knew just when I needed her. Her jokes were dry, her eyes mischievous, and I'd caught myself looking a bit too long on several occasions.

We had gotten close. She was close enough to connect her arm with mine as we headed to the set. My heart skipped a beat every time she leaned close to murmur something only I could hear.

I knew exactly what I was doing.

I simply didn't know whether she did.

That afternoon, I was sitting with one of the directors, Joe, just outside the soundstage. The sun was casting a wandering light on the edge of the asphalt lot as he ran through the following several days' sequences.

"So, for next week," Joe remarked, brushing through his tablet, "we have the rooftop scene. You and Wanda are alone. It's the first time your character truly opens up."

I tilted my head, wondering. "What kind of open up are we talking about?"

He grinned. "The slow-burning sort. The 'I might not trust the Avengers, but I trust you' type."

My face felt heated.

He caught it as he looked up. "You good with that?"

"Yeah. No, yes. I mean, it's a great scene," I said, flicking through my copy of the script. "So, it's just me and Lizzie on the rooftop. At night?"

Joe nodded. "Right after the dramatic battle sequence. You are both still startled. Then it's silent. That time when the city hums under you and there is no goal or strategy. Just—" He hesitated and grinned. "Just feelings."

I swallowed. "Right. Feelings."

I sat in my trailer, flipping over the script. The rooftop scene.

It wasn't romantic, officially. But it may be.

Wanda looks at Y/N with gentle eyes. Y/N does not flinch for the first time. They don't quite touch. But it is near. Too close. 

CMON Y/N, U GOT THIS! YOU ARE A TALENTED ACTRESS, DON'T U?

Interior Set – Rooftop at Night – Scene 57

When I arrived at the rooftop set, the wind machines were already rumbling. Lights positioned to resemble a dark skyline threw long shadows across the faux-concrete, and I adjusted the black leather of my outfit as I proceeded to my destination.

Lizzie was already there, in her deep red coat, gaze faraway and focused, and falling into Wanda's sorrow.

Joe made a few parting remarks off camera, but I hardly heard him. My fingertips brushed over the hilt of the false dagger on my thigh. The character's familiar weight slipped into my chest like a second skin. I wasn't Y/N Salvatore anymore. I was Black Raven.

"Ready?" the assistant director called.

"Rolling!" came from the sound.

"Slate in!"

The clack of the slate snapped, and then - 

"Action!"

I let my gaze fall to the city skyline in front of me, taking in the depth of the picture and the severity of what I was going to say. The director, Joe, was allowing us space to relax into the spirit of the moment. I needed it.

I took a breath and proceeded carefully toward Wanda, each step thoughtful and silent. Raven's boots reverberated softly on the rooftop floor. My expression was inscrutable, meticulously crafted, calm on the surface, chaos beneath.

"Why are you here?" Lizzie spoke, her voice as raspy as Wanda's. She avoided looking at me at first, as if it hurt too much.

Raven paused. Her gaze searched the devastation below. Blood had flowed. Soldiers had died.

"You still believe in me," I said — Raven said. Her tone was not desperate. It was not a plea. Just pure curiosity. "Even after everything."

Wanda finally met her eyes.

"Because you've never hurt me."

A pause.

"And because you care... even when you don't want anyone to see it."

My expression flared. Not too much. Just enough to show that anything impacted her insides. My jaw clenched. I came closer, slowly and cautiously, as if Wanda was something I might damage simply by being near her.

Raven's voice lowered to almost a whisper now. "Maybe I'm tired of hiding."

And then, unexpectedly, her breath caught. Her face crumbled in the simplest, most human manner. Her shoulders twisted inward, as if she were sinking beneath an unseen weight, and tears welled up in her eyes, quiet, genuine, quivering on her eyelids.

"They're still arguing about whether you're dangerous or just reckless."

I smirked. "They're not wrong."

"I saw what you did out there," she said. "To those soldiers."

"They were trying to blow up a refugee truck," I answered casually. "So I ripped their throats out. Problem solved."

"You could've taken them down without... that."

"I could have," I replied, finally turning to face her. "But where is the fun in that?"

"You're not heartless."

Lizzie's voice trembled just slightly, even as her magic buzzed through the air like a quiet hum between us. "You just don't waste your heart on the wrong people."

"I never asked for this," I whispered, voice strained. "I just wanted to protect something, for once."

Then tears began to fall.

Not in the script.

Not planned.

I could sense that everyone was watching.

"You don't have to do it alone," Lizzie said quietly, coming in closer and gently placing her forehead on Y/N's. "We will figure it out. Together."

"Cut!"

I blinked once and again. Straightened. I took a silent step back, shrugged my shoulders, and wiped the tear from beneath my eye with my knuckle as if it were just another spread of makeup.

The entire crew remained quiet.

And then

Applause.

Real, loud applause.

"Holy shit," I heard someone from the lights mutter.

Joe went forward with a shocked expression and raised his hands. "That, whatever it was, we're keeping it. There is no second take."

Lizzie continued to gaze at me, her eyes wide. "How do you do that?" she muttered. "Like—switch it on and off like that?"

I laughed softly, removing an unwanted strand of hair from my face. "I drink a lot of espresso and don't think about it too much."

She grinned slowly, a little confused. "You were amazing."

"You made it easy," I replied softly, my voice totally Y/N again. "Your Wanda breaks my heart."

Joe walked over, his expression surprised. "That... was beyond incredible. Y/N, Elizabeth—your chemistry, the way you two just... felt that scene. I can't even put it into words. That was... magic."

But I felt it.

The way everyone looked at me has changed a little differently now.

The way Lizzie did, especially.

And I couldn't help but wonder, was it still just acting?

My phone lights up...

"Don't judge me," Robert said via text. "But I'm very certain I ate something suspicious today. "

I giggled softly to myself before scrolling down to see what others had said- Chris had tweeted a photo of himself "prepping for battle" with a pile of weights stacked around him. Then I received a text from Lizzie.

(Lizzie 🥀)I'm curious, Y/N: do you ever simply... quit being Black Raven? Is she always on your mind?

The message she wrote took me off guard, sending a shudder down my spine. I quickly composed my reply.

(You)I wish I could claim I left her on set, but she stays. But when you work with people like you, Lizzie, it's difficult not to bring her out, you know?

I waited for a bit, my pulse pumping slightly quicker than normal as I expected her reaction. But before I could think about it, my phone rang again.

(Lizzie 🥀)Hmm, maybe I'll give Wanda a chance at her. 😉 The chemistry is obvious.

I smiled, though no one could see it. I wasn't sure if she was still talking about our characters or something more personal. Perhaps both.

(You): Is this a challenge? Because Black Raven will not back down from one.

I sat back, exhaled, and smiled slightly. Was it a flirtation? I couldn't tell, but I didn't mind being unclear. For once, I wanted to let the words hang in the air without overthinking them. After all, everything was in good humor.

(RDJ) (After Lizzie's message): That's all. Y/N and Lizzie are now a real thing. Someone bring the popcorn.

I blinked, thoroughly caught off guard. Wait, was he talking about the chat? About us?

(Chris E.): You know what? I think they'd make an excellent couple. Don't you think?

(You): Lol, okay, okay, maybe I've had too much espresso today.

The studio lights had been bright for hours, and my legs hurt from running through take after take. The strain that came from filming Captain America: Civil War was finally easing as we took a break and spread across the set, ready for the next scene. The entire team had gathered in the makeup room to cool down, get food, and do everything they could to rest for a few seconds before the chaos returned.

I found myself standing in the corner of the room, trying to recover my breath while checking my phone for emails, texts, and the usual disaster. Lizzie walked in, her hair still a little filthy from the previous takes but looking effortlessly gorgeous as always. She gave me a heart-stopping smile, and I couldn't help but smile back.

"How's the new Black Raven scene going?" Lizzie asked, leaning on the counter near me. Her voice was sweet and playful, as if she understood how hard the day had been.

I rolled my eyes theatrically. "Oh, you understand. Running, battling, and being hit by objects I'm supposed to avoid. A typical day in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, right?"

Lizzie chuckled, her eyes bright with delight. "I'm sure it's nothing compared to the battle we're about to have in the next scene."

I raised my eyebrow at her. "Are you telling me Wanda is going to fight Black Raven? I'm all in on that."

Lizzie shrugged lightly, but I saw how her gaze lingered on mine a little longer than needed. "Who knows? Perhaps we'll be on the same side. Or not. You never know with us. "We have history."

That final part caught my attention.. She said it casually, but there was something more beneath the words, making me question if she was hinting at something more. "So, what do you think about the future?" Will we be best friends or enemies?" I asked, hoping to keep the discussion light, but I could see the air between us shifting, charged with something more.

Lizzie paused, her lips twisting into a cheeky grin. "I believe we could have some interesting chemistry on screen. You and I."

"Alright, guys," Joe Russo's voice echoed through the room, "let's get ready for the next shot."

The Filming Break

After another long sequence, the team took a break, and I found myself seated next to Lizzie again. This time, we were joined by a few other cast members, but the space between Lizzie and me felt different, as if there was an invisible thread pulling us together, even though we were sitting around chatting. We chuckled about the most recent scenario, in which our characters were meant to face off in a dramatic battle.

"You looked incredible in that fight scene," Lizzie added, her eyes shining with real adoration. "I have to admit, I didn't expect to be that ruthless."

I chuckled and shook my head. "Hey, this is all part of the character. But it's difficult to keep a straight face when we're dressed in silly costumes."

There was a silent moment, and the sound of the team preparing the next shot resonated in the distance. But it was not my top priority. I was concentrated on Lizzie, her eyes meeting mine,

"Maybe we could do that," I replied gently, my pulse pounding slightly quicker. "After we finish filming, might we... have a drink? Talk about life beyond the MCU?"

Lizzie's expression softened, and I could see a change in her eyes. She was considering it. "I'd like that," she murmured, barely rising above a whisper.

The last take had just finished, and the entire set burst into cheers. Some of us cheered and accepted. I stood there, hands on my hips, gathering my breath, my heart rushing from adrenaline rather than actual effort.

Months of filming, endless takes, bruises, sweat, early mornings, and late nights resulted in this: the final fight sequence in Berlin.

We were still in costume, half-covered in fake dirt, sweat seeping down between layers of leather, yet no one cared. There was a thrill, the type you feel after doing something incredible.

One of the assistants rolled in a monitor, and the director called out, "Alright, gather around. Let's watch the last sequence. You've earned it."

The screen began to light up. The first few clips of the Berlin combat began to play, with all the uncut footage patched together by one of the editors, who worked like magic. We watched as Cap and Tony fought, Peter helped with his spider ability, and Scott transformed into an actual giant.

But then came the moment we all waited for.

Wanda, or Lizzie in full Scarlet Witch beauty, flew over the asphalt and landed hard. The camera switched to a wide shot. A burst of black feathers and red energy appeared on the screen.

There I was, racing full speed at her, my boots hitting the concrete with amazing elegance. I sank to my knees next to her, scared yet cool. The sound wasn't completely mixed yet, but we could still hear the speech perfectly.

"You shouldn't have stayed behind."

"And let you go alone?" Never."

"You betrayed Tony."

"I don't care."

Everyone else made some kind of noise—"Oof," "Damn," "Okay, chemistry!" but I hardly heard it. I was looking at the screen too much. Specifically, on me, who was almost straining not to gaze at Wanda's chest in that fitting corset. And failing.

Badly.

Lizzie's lips twitched into a grin, and I noticed this out of the corner of my eye. She leaned down and said, "You were definitely not looking at my chest all the time in that scene."

Let forth a faint, regretful chuckle. "I stayed in character."

"Oh, sure," she said, sipping her coffee like a smug witch. "Black Raven was just emotionally overwhelmed by the... depth of Wanda's neckline."

By the time the last fight scene appeared on the monitor, the audience had quieted.

Everything stopped, including the conversation, taunting, and rustling of the food. We all sat there, actors still clad in half-costumes, sweating, hanging to our foreheads, our gaze fixed on the screen. The Berlin conflict was chaotic, but this was something else.

Tony. Steve. Bucky.

It wasn't simply punches and shields anymore; betrayal, sorrow, and desperation were woven into every action. Every punch was personalized. Every breath was heaviest.

When the shield collided with the arc reactor, there was a collective inhalation.

Nobody spoke. Nobody had to.

I noticed Chris and Robert seated side by side, both appearing much more serious than normal. Sebastian had his arms folded and his eyes squinted. Lizzie's fingers remained motionless against the sleeve of her sweatshirt, her knuckles white.

Then the screen went dark.

And another scene started.

Steve stormed down the Raft's hallways, mouth clenched, eyes scouring each gloomy path. The emergency lights flashed to a low red. The doors burst open. Guards had died. Empty cells.

Everyone leaned forward.

We hadn't viewed the footage yet—it wasn't done. Despite knowing what was about to happen, my stomach fluttered. I recalled shooting it and the weight of it. The atmosphere on set had been strained that day.

The camera followed Steve through the prison until he came to a stop.

Right there, bodies sprawled over the floor. Wanda's cell broke open. Debris. Smoke. Chaos.

Then the Woman emerged from the darkness, boots clicking on damp concrete.

Black Raven.

Me.

Drenched in blood, with tangled hair, the black villain's outfit is ripped and wild, like shadows sewn to skin. My character was motionless—except for her arms, which clutched Wanda against her chest. Wanda's hand grabbed my shoulder weakly.

Steve's voice resonated and was raspy. "What did you do?"

"What you would not do. Do not try to stop me, no one will hurt her again. And be careful, Captain. You're only alive because she likes you. And everything on my body wants to murder you, so stand aside."

The place nearly burst.

"Holy shit," Anthony Mackie said, half-standing. "That was badass."

"That's gonna break the internet," Scarlett said, her eyes still wide.

I saw myself on film taking Wanda to the Helicopter before turning around and disappearing into the darkness.

Chris whistled softly. "That's when the audience knows she isn't just a villain. She's something else entirely."

"I've got chills," Lizzie muttered near me.

Paul blinked. "Did... did your character kill all of them by herself?"

I gave a little smile. "She did."

"I love her," Robert announced. "She is terrifying. I love her."

Sebastian nudged me. "You looked like a vampire version of Batman."

"Thanks, I think?"

"No, seriously," the director interrupted, arms folded as he inspected the monitor. "That moment, when she carries Wanda like that? That isn't simply dark; it's loyalty. You can feel it."

Lizzie did not say anything immediately. She simply leaned in again and murmured, "You looked like you'd set the world on fire for her."

I looked at her, my lips parted slightly.

"And you looked like you'd let me."

She blushing but did not look away.

"Okay," Chris broke the quiet. "But can we talk about how Steve literally shows up ready to break them out, and Y/N's already done it and left a dramatic calling card?"

"I like a little flair," I shrugged.

"You carried me like a bride," Lizzie teased.

"You looked like one," I shot back without thinking.

She blinked.

So did I.

Scarlett grinned, she knew. "Guys get a room please, your eye fucking is too much even for me."

Jimmy Fallon show - a few months later

The lights came on strong, and the applause was louder than I imagined, but honestly? I was too high on adrenaline to notice.

Walking onto the Tonight Show set with the rest of the Avengers cast was unreal. The audience exploded as if we were true superheroes - Sebastian grinned, Robert blew kisses, Chris and Anthony began arguing playfully, and Scarlett walked like she ruled the building (she kinda did).

I greeted, smiled, and hugged Jimmy Fallon before sliding into my seat between Lizzie and Paul. Not by accident.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Jimmy announced dramatically once we had all settled down, "we have the most powerful couch on Earth right now."

 "So," Jimmy leaned forward, fingers steepled, "Captain America: Civil War. Huge feelings. Large fighting. There's a lot of confusion. And some new faces..."

He grinned as he turned to face me. "Y/N Salvatore, Black Raven herself, welcome to the madness."

The audience applauded again. I giggled gently and smoothed my dress.

"Thank you," I said. "I'm still not sure how I ended up here. One day I'm filming in a castle cellar in Romania, and the next I'm avoiding flying vehicles,"

"You're incredible in the movie," Jimmy replied. "The prison scene? You're carrying Wanda out like you're a goth vampire knight in shining armor?"

The crowd howled. Lizzie gave a little sigh beside me, covering her mouth to conceal a chuckle.

"I-I was doing my best, okay?" I shrugged. "Black Raven is a little dramatic. It's in her blood."

Chris said, "She also kills like... twenty guards in under a minute," his eyes wide. "I was like - did we just add a slasher villain to the team?"

"She's not a villain," Lizzie insisted, remarkably adamant. "She's complicated."

I gazed at her. She stared at me.

Jimmy blinked. "Oh, hello."

More laughs. Robert leaned into his microphone. "This has been going on through the press trip. I swear to God."

"Don't look at us like that!" Lizzie protested, her cheeks flushing just enough to be noticed.

"Okay, but," Jimmy said, pulling out a single shot from the tape of me kneeling by Wanda, cradling her protectively, blood streaming from my hands. "You can't blame us for shipping it."

Cue the crowd losing their heads.

Scarlett laughed. "They have unreal chemistry. Like, we all saw it."

"Yeah," Anthony nodded. "Even between takes, they were still looking at each other like—"

"Finish that sentence and I swear—" I warned, but I was laughing too hard to sound serious.

Jimmy grinned. "Okay, alright. We'll keep things cool for now. But truly, your performance was incredible. The emotional intensity, the silence, the uncertainty..."

He turned back to face the group. "Was anyone else on set just like... watching her and forgetting to act?"

Paul raised his hand. "I did. Twice. I got yelled at."

Sebastian nodded. "I tripped over my line."

I ducked my head and grinned. "Now you're all just being sweet."

"No," Lizzie responded quietly. "You were real. And it is unusual."

The room was silent for a little moment. Just enough for me to notice how near her knee was to mine again. And how warm her hand felt as it lightly touched mine as the talk progressed.

We laughed, mocked, and acted out our biggest blunders (Chris screwed up his shield flip and smacked a bulb. Classic). Jimmy showed a montage of us dancing behind the scenes—yes, there was an uncomfortable moment when Lizzie and I spun around in full costume as the stunt squad looked at us like puzzled pups.

But the moment that stuck?

When Jimmy pulled out a fan-edited clip of Black Raven and Wanda with the title: "Born To Burn – A Love Between Fire and Shadow".

And we both blushed like idiots.

I was still laughing at Paul's impersonation of Vision trying yoga when Jimmy leaned in again, this time with that sparkle in his eye that suggested he was ready to stir things up.

"Alright, alright," he murmured, interrupting the laughter. "I know I can't expect too much, but come on... We need to discuss what comes next."

I felt my smile freeze slightly.

"What about the new Avengers lineup? Perhaps a secret antihero will make more appearances?" He raised an eyebrow wildly and fixed his eyes on me. "Y/N, will we be seeing more of Black Raven in the future?"

The audience reacted with a chorus of excited gasps and cheers, with some admirers in the first row already screaming my character's name.

I opened my lips, not knowing what to say.

Scarlett, thankfully, jumped in first. "If she tells you anything, Feige will literally teleport here and kill us all."

Everyone laughed, but Jimmy was not finished.

"Oh, come on," he responded, smirking. "No teases?" "Not even a hint?"

I attempted to maintain a neutral look, but my stomach was already in knots. I hadn't even read the final script for the following step. Rumors were flowing, and the pressure was building, but was it true? I wasn't sure what I was permitted or wanted to say.

I glanced down immediately, attempting to seem casual, but my fingers curled a bit harder around the edge of the couch seat.

Then I felt it.

A soft, comforting hand gently touched my thigh, right above my knee.

Lizzie.

She said nothing and didn't even look at me. Her gaze was still fixed on Jimmy, and her smile was as calm and dazzling as ever. But her thumb glided gently back and forth on the material of my dress.

It was a tiny gesture. Soft. Subtle. But stable.

I inhaled gently through my nose, urging my shoulders to remain calm. My heart, which had begun to stutter in my chest, resumed its normal rhythm.

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see," I eventually said, giving Jimmy a faint smirk. "But I do think the universe of Black Raven still has some shadows left to explore."

Jimmy lifted both brows and glanced around at the others. "That... felt like a yes."

Robert clapped his hands once. "That was a studio-trained 'I can't answer this' voice if I've ever heard one."

"Ten out of ten," Chris said. "Very smooth."

Lizzie's hand squeezed my thigh, barely noticeable, but she never took her hand off me.

I took a quick glimpse at her.

She didn't look at me. But the sweetest smile tugged on the corner of her lips.

Time passed...

The premier light finally faded. The press junkets slowed. The constant travel, fittings, early call times, and all-day shootings were finally over—or at least put on hold. But even after I returned to my own small corner of the earth, a peaceful house in New Jersey, the Marvel craziness continued.

Naturally, I kept in touch with the cast. That part was simple.

Group discussions were filled with inside jokes and memes. Chris still sent way too many selfies of himself and Dodger. Scarlett dropped voice messages that never made sense, and Robert constantly sent me culinary recommendations no matter where I was in the world.

And then there was Lizzie.

We chatted. Often.

Sometimes it was simply voice messages at 2 a.m. We sometimes had extended FaceTime chats while she was cooking. Sometimes, there was silence, yet it didn't feel far. Just...quiet comfort. Her name was constantly visible at the top of my texts. My thoughts were continuously drawn back to her.

I wasn't quite sure what we were. But I knew we weren't simply friends—that didn't seem right anymore.

It had been pouring outdoors when this happened.

I was tucked up in my favorite oversized sweatshirt, covered in a throw blanket, and sipping chamomile tea while reading through a stack of forgotten mail and half-read magazines that were gathering on the kitchen counter.

Then one headline attracted my attention.

"Scarlet Spell? Black Raven & Wanda Maximoff Actress Spotted Hand-in-Hand After Intimate NYC Dinner"

My stomach dropped, then fluttered.

I focused on the glossy photo printed over the bottom half of the tabloid. It was grainy, somewhat dark, but clearly us. Lizzie and I were going along a quiet street at night after supper last week. I had entirely forgotten that photographers were standing near that restaurant. She was giggling, her head slightly tilted back, and my hand was in hers.

Not for the camera. Not for public relations.

Just... her fingers curled around mine as if they belonged there.

I sat back on the barstool and looked at the paper.

Part of me panicked. What about the other part? I kind of didn't care.

I grabbed for my phone, my fingers hesitating over Lizzie's number.

Before I could start typing, a fresh message appeared on the screen.

Lizzie🩶: You saw it? 🙈 ...We look cute tho, not gonna lie.

Later that night...

My phone buzzed again, this time with an incoming FaceTime call from Lizzie.

I barely hesitated before responding.

Her face dominated the screen, lighted only by the warmth from her bedside lamp. Hair slightly messy, large sweatshirt, no makeup - it's simply her. She still managed to look like a dream.

"Hey," she responded, her voice mild and somewhat raspy. "You okay?"

I grinned and tucked my knees up to my chest. "You mean after our small-town scandal broke the internet?"

Lizzie laughed. "Right, I forgot, hand-holding, the most forbidden act."

"I know," I teased. "Next thing you know,w we'll be... smiling at each other in public."

"Oh, the horror."

We both laughed, slipping into that comfortable rhythm, the easy warmth that only comes from being with someone you trust.

There was a nice pause, although it lasted a little longer than normal.

"You looked good in that photo," she ultimately replied, her gaze shifting away from the camera for a moment. "Not that this is news. You always do."

I blinked, my lips parted slightly. "You, too. You looked happy."

She shrugged casually. "I was. I mean-I am. With you. It's always fun."

"Fun?" I teased, raising an eyebrow. "That's what I am to you?"

Lizzie leaned closer to the TV, smiling. "Maybe a little more than fun."

The butterflies in my stomach grew into something heavier.

And then—

DING!

A group chat notification slid across the top of the screen. "RDJ 🧃🥸: Alright nerds, suit up. We've got a new project to talk about 👀🦸‍♂️ #avengersassembleagain"

I blinked and then laughed out. "Did he seriously just—"

Lizzie was already rolling her eyes and grinning. "Of course he did."

"I didn't even get time to emotionally recover from the last one."

"We never do," she said. "That's the Marvel way."

I gazed back at her via the screen. A glimmer of passion. Her eyes sparkled.

"So," I asked gently, "Do you think we'll work together again?"

She smiled more slowly this time. "I really hope so."

I leaned my cheek against my hand. "Yeah. Me, too."

INT. CONVENTION HALL – MARVEL PRESS CONFERENCE 

The stage was stylish. The backdrop said, "Marvel Studios: Phase 4 - Expanding the Universe." The rows of reporters, camera crews, and executives packed the room. The air was alive with curiosity.

I sat next to Lizzie, my posture excellent, and tried not to mess with the pen in my hand. Everyone had papers in front of them with secret Marvel material. Contracts. NDAs. Early outlines of the initiative, which we were here to publicly reveal.

I'd already read mine, attempting to keep my eyes from widening at the images I was in. And, more especially, who I was with throughout them.

Robert leaned down and said, "Have you read page 73 yet?" OH LORD, SEX SCENE...

I gave him a sideways glance. "Don't get me started."

He grinned and leaned back, as though he already knew everything.

Kevin Feige entered the stage. "The next film is something personal. We're sticking with a darker tone and more grounded emotion—but also something fans have been asking for."

The Russo Brothers then emerged, wearing their typical cool and cryptic expressions.

Anthony said that Y/N Hale and Wanda Maximoff would have a significant story in the next film.

The audience did not respond for a second.

And then, BOOM.

Gasps, whispers, and a few shouts. People began making notes and raising their hands. One reporter asked, "Romantic?"

Lizzie's gaze shifted toward me.

Joe nodded. "We can't say more."

My cheeks burned. I gulped water as if my life depended on it.

Chris Evans leaned forward and murmured, "You two are already trending. Check Twitter."

Scarlett gave me a slow smirk. "Better get used to the spotlight again, rookie."

I tried to hide my grin as I signed the last page of my contract. Black ink. Official.

Marvel had just made it canon.

And suddenly, we were the storyline.

INT. OUTDOOR MARVEL STUDIOS LOT – LUNCH TENT

The sun was warm overhead, creating a golden glow over the Marvel lot. A big picnic-style table was set up beneath an umbrella, and it was packed with known faces, including Chris Hemsworth with three protein bowls in front of him, Sebastian mocking Mackie, Tom Holland jumping in his seat, and RDJ at the head like some cheeky monarch.

I sat tucked between Scarlett and Lizzie, pecking at my salad and trying not to seem too excited.

Chris Evans sat down opposite us, sliding his tray as if he owned the table. "Okay, let us discuss Infinity War. No spoilers, but I read the script last night and"

"—You read the script?" Tom cut in quickly. "I've been given, like, three pages, and one of them was blacked out!"

Everyone came out laughing.

"Tom, you're literally the reason we have that many NDAs," Mackie said, pointing at him.

"I'm an innocent boy!" Tom gasped in his English accent.

"Sure you are," Sebastian murmured, his mouth full of fries.

Lizzie leaned over to me, lips close to my ear. "Have you read your scenes yet?"

"Not all," I said, clicking my nails on my water bottle. "But I saw one where I—uh—jump between two crumbling buildings and Wanda save me out mid-collapse?"

She grinned slowly.

"Maybe Marvel's trying to tell you something," Scarlett replied, without looking up from her dish.

Everyone turned.

"What?" She grinned and shrugged. "I see everything."

"Honestly, though," Hemsworth said, "the energy you two bring? Electric. I'm kind of jealous."

"Agreed," RDJ said. Seeing your connection on screen is like witnessing a solo film romance inserted into a superhero film. Very broody and intense."

Lizzie and I exchanged looks. I attempted to laugh it off, pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

"We're just... committed to the characters," I explained, attempting to maintain a cheerful tone.

"Right," Sebastian responded, exaggerating. "Very... method."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't you have a brooding scene to rehearse or something?"

Chris Evans smiled. "I ship it."

Tom blinked. "You mean in the movie?"

RDJ leaned back, his sunglasses glinting. "Sure, let's say that."

Lizzie's hand brushed mine under the table again, intentionally, softly. I looked down. She didn't move it. Neither did I.

"Okay, no spoilers," Feige called as he passed by with his own tray. "But can we all agree this cast is going to break hearts in Infinity War?"

"Oh, they're not ready," Scarlett said, gesturing between Lizzie and me with her fork. "Especially not for these two."

I hid my face in my cup. Lizzie just chuckled lowly beside me.

The sun was beginning to set behind the sound stages, coloring the sky in gold and pink. I was snuggled up on the little sofa in my trailer, script pages spread out on my lap, but I wasn't reading anymore.

Instead, I found myself looking at a specific scene, one in which my character and Wanda kiss and have sex.�� We're supposed to shoot it today. This is my first time on a Marvel movie with wlw intimate scenes, and I am quite nervous. There is also a sex scene with Lizzie, so ahhh.... This was not the first time our characters had kissed. Not by far. But... it was the one that lingered in my chest the most.

It wasn't difficult to pretend I was dating Wanda Maximoff. If anything, it was too simple. Sometimes I told myself that this was the most natural character I'd ever performed. The gentle stares, the lingering touches, the calm times between explosions when she'd grab my hand—it no longer seemed like acting. It felt like breathing.

The only thing that was not real was the kisses. And yet, every time Lizzie's lips touched mine on camera, I fell a bit deeper.

The first few times had been playful. Nervous laughs, gentle chuckles when the director yelled cut. But recently, Lizzie had changed. There was a change. There is a dominance to the way she touches me now- less hesitant, more confident. Her fingertips on my jaw, her thumb caressing my face, the gentle way she guided me through the scene.

And I let her. Gladly.

God, I probably looked like an idiot, leaning into her every action as if gravity drew me there.

I remembered the last scene we'd shot: her v me against the wreckage, and our characters finally having a raw moment of confession. Her forehead was pushed against mine, her breathing unsteady, and for a minute... I wasn't sure whether Wanda or Lizzie was whispering, "I can't lose you."

There was a knock on my trailer door just as I'd finished tying my robe.  I was still mentally pacing, flipping through the revised script pages for today's shoot.

Not graphic, not that kind of sex scene, but still intimate. Slow, emotional, intense.

"Come in," I called, voice just a little higher than usual.

The door creaked open, and in stepped one of the Russo brothers, script rolled in hand, calm but serious. "Hey, just wanted to give you and Lizzie a quick rundown before we get on set."

I nodded, trying to keep my expression neutral even though my heart was already speeding up.

"We want it slow. Intimate. Like it's not just passion, but release- relief. You've both been holding it in for so long. There should be touches that feel almost hesitant. But once it starts... we want the audience to feel how much your characters want this."

I nodded again, biting the inside of my cheek. "Got it. Oh, and," he added, "when you're moaning, don't hold back. Say her name. Multiple times, people will love it.

 He chuckled like it was nothing, but the casual direction sent a spark of heat up my spine. "Be raw with it."

Yeah. Sure. Totally fine. Definitely not freaking out.

I adjusted the collar of my shirt, which was soft and worn-looking. The costume designer had nailed the "undercover but still slightly dramatic" look. My character's hair was messily tied back, and there was no makeup save for the sort they used to make me appear like I had slept four hours in three days. Real method stuff.

Lizzie was already on set, barefoot, sitting on a pretend bed, and drinking from a paper coffee cup. She gave me that comfortable, lopsided smile. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be," I said, taking a long breath.

Joe came in next to us and lowered his voice.

"This is morning-after energy," he explained. "You have been on the run for months. You've got used to the silence and your relationship. You are not superheroes here. You're simply two people trying to hang onto something positive. Something honest. We want to feel that."

I nodded, and Lizzie's expression had already changed. Wanda was there. Tired, gentle, and a little guarded.

And when they called action

Everything slid into place.

"I think I saw someone watching us near the market," I remarked, carefully folding a dish towel and placing it on the counter. "He wasn't following me, but... I'm not sure if I'm paranoid or right."

Wanda, Lizzie, glanced up from the table where she was cutting fruit. Her fingers hesitated slightly. "You're probably correct. You usually are."

I turned to face her. "Doesn't make me feel better."

She let out a giggle and walked to me.

"It's been peaceful here," she remarked. "I forgot what peace even felt like."

Lizzie stood close to me, dressed as Wanda, with delicate makeup and a dark red cloak thrown around her shoulders, her hand gently stretching across the table to mine. "We're safe here," she added, with Wanda's soft, quiet, but authoritative tone. It caused chills down my arms.

I nodded and gazed into her eyes, waiting for my cue. But I wasn't acting anymore. When she gripped my hand.

"We don't have to go back," Lizzie said. "We might disappear here. Just you and I."

I swallowed hard. "You really think they'd let us go?" I demanded, leaning forward as the script instructed me. The intensity of Lizzie's gaze on me felt too genuine.

Her fingers brushed under my chin as she tilted my face up. "Let them try," she whispered, right before her lips pressed to mine.

Her hand slid up my jaw, into my hair. I leaned into her touch, kissed her back like I meant it, because maybe... I did.

We locked eyes.

She leaned down and cupped my jaw with delicate fingertips. Her thumb stroked my face, then lowered to my lips.

"You're safe now," she murmured to Wanda, her voice filled with emotion. "With me."

My breath caught. "I always was," I said, just barely audible.

Then, she kissed me again.

As we explored our mouths with our tongues, she slowly moved us to our bed...

Slow at the beginning. Lingering. Her lips slid against mine as if she understood every curve, every pause that made me melt. Her hands moved beneath the blanket, tracing my waist and bringing me closer. Her leg was looped around mine, possessively.

Then, with one hand, she performed her caressing movement, and I held up my hands as if they were magically tied down, because that is the effect they will add later.

"Wanda"

"OH, Wanda"

But as her lips moved to my neck, Lizzie kissed me differently. Less scripted. Hungrier. Her tongue touched my skin, and her fingers curled behind my neck.

And that is when it slid.

"Lizzie..."

I said it like a breath, a prayer.

The camera did not catch it. Nobody said anything. But I felt it. I knew it.

When the director screamed, "Cut!"I jumped upright and tucked the sheet over my chest.

"I'll, um, I'll be in my trailer," I murmured, blushing.

I didn't glance back at Lizzie. Couldn't. My heart was pounding, and my thoughts were spinning out of control. I grumbled since that was not Wanda.

That was Lizzie.

And I meant it.

I'm fucked.

I had been ghosting everyone for a weeks.

Text messages remained unopened. Conversations in groups were muted. Missed calls from Robert, Chris, Scarlett, Paul, and Lizzie.

I just couldn't.

When I moaned her name on set, it seemed like something inside me split wide open. I hadn't only crossed a professional line; I had revealed something far too true. Then I ran like a coward. Classic. And now? I couldn't even look at her, much less pretend we were "just friends" or "just coworkers."

So I remained away. From the cast. From rehearsals. From everything.

I didn't want to admit it, but the only thing that hurt was Lizzie's lack of communication.

Maybe she overheard it. Perhaps she didn't. Regardless, she remained mute.

That made things worse.

I was cuddled up on my couch, hoodie pulled over my head, watching horrible reality TV and eating cold leftovers when the doorbell rang.

I ignored it.

Then came the second ring.

Then they knocked.

Then there was some banging.

And, through the awful door—

"Y/N Salvatore, if you don't open this door in the next ten seconds, I'm calling Feige and telling him you died in a tragic avocado toast incident."

...Goddammit.

I grumbled and trudged to the door, opening it just slightly. Robert Downey, Jr. was standing there. Designer sunglasses, a wide-brimmed hat, coffee in one hand, and what appeared to be a Gucci purse in the other.

"Oh, thank God," he said, shoving past me. "I thought you had vanished. This area smells of sadness and fried chips. Not cute."

"Nice to see you, too," I mumbled, closing the door behind him.

He turned and pointed at me. "Sit. We're talking."

"I'm fine."

"Nope," he said. "You're in love, ignoring your lover, and attempting to self-sabotage before the greatest Marvel premiere of your life. Also, you haven't showered today."

I narrowed my eyes. "Did Lizzie send you?"

He snorted. "Lizzie has no idea I am here. She's too busy pretending she isn't devastated. Which, by the way, she is doing poorly at. The girl has been poking at foods as if they insulted her mother."

I glanced aside, my arms crossed across my chest.

Robert groaned and sat near me on the couch. "Look. I got it. It's messy. You are afraid. You believe you have ruined something."

"I did ruin it."

He shakes his head. "No. You felt something. She did, too. Salvatore, don't play stupid; you both acted as if you forgot there were cameras. Do you believe that type of chemistry is normal? We were all watching playback and wondering if this was still acting."

I didn't respond.

"You're not alone in this," he said quietly. "You are not a monster for having emotions. She definitely did, too. You're both simply being foolish. Which is why I am hosting dinner tonight. One of our last before the press tour madness begins. Everyone is invited. And yes, you will be there."

"I'm not going."

He stood dramatically. "That's wonderful, but I had already planned to drive you there myself. So either you get ready and arrive dressed like a Greek goddess, or I sling you over my shoulder and drag your theatrical vampire ass out in a robe."

I looked at him, blinking. "...Fine. But I'm wearing black."

"Duh. It is your color."

LATER — Y/N's BEDROOM

I stood in front of the mirror, curling the last strand of my hair. Something elegant but soft. My dress was black, yes, but tasteful. Backless. Flowing. Simple, but still dramatic. I applied a final coat of deep red lipstick.

My heart was racing.

Not because of the dinner. But because I knew I'd see her again. Lizzie.

And I had no idea how to act normally anymore.

But I could fake it. That was the job, right?

I grabbed my heels. Took a breath.

Robert was waiting downstairs, blasting ABBA on his phone like a true icon.

Time to face the chaos.

And maybe... her.

Robert's house is like a Vogue spread transformed into a mansion. There are lights everywhere, jazz playing from concealed speakers, candles flickering around the pool, and so many people.

I squinted at the sight, my heels tapping on the marble as I followed Robert through the front door. "Wait," I said, lifting an eyebrow. "Didn't you say this was a dinner?"

He smirked as he stared at me over his spectacles. "I mentioned there will be food. You imagined it meant 'calm' and 'intimate.' That is on you."

"Robert, there are at least forty people here."

"Not a single boring one. "You are welcome."

Before I could strangle him with my hold, he vanished into the crowd, greeting everyone like a Hollywood Zeus descending from Olympus.

I groaned and looked around the room. There is no indication of Lizzie.

Okay. Take a deep breath. Keep it cool.

I approached the bar, anxious for something cold and boozy. That's where I noticed Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan leaning heavily against it, as if they were in some whiskey ad.

"Ayyy, look who rose from the dead!" Anthony grinned and pulled me in for a hug.

"You do look like a vampire queen tonight," Sebastian said, lifting his glass. "I really adore it. Brooding looks fantastic on you."

"Thanks," I mumbled, smiling. "That's what two weeks of existential dread and bad reality TV will do to you."

We clinked glasses. Whiskey scorched my throat.

They spoke, asked how I was, and teased me like elder brothers, which made me chuckle. Until Anthony's smile became hazardous.

"Alright. Dare time."

Sebastian lifted an eyebrow. "This isn't high school."

"Oh, shut up, you love this." Anthony turned to face me. "Y/N, I challenge you to dance with Bucky Barnes over here. But, really, dance. None of that nice swaying. I want hip action. Maintain eye contact. Full commitment."

Sebjust chuckled and reached for my hand. "Are you up for it?"

I arched my brow. "You wish."

But I had already placed my drink down.

The music changed, darker, slower, hotter. Low boom sends through the floor.

And yes, I agreed.

I strolled with Sebastian across Robert's marble living room, as if we were in a noir club scene. Smooth, sultry, and a touch playful. His hand rested softly on my waist as I turned, our feet perfectly coordinated. Everyone around us cheered.

It was enjoyable. Light. Silly.

And suddenly, I felt it.

That sting.

It felt like flames on the back of my neck.

I turned.

Lizzie.

Standing near the bar.

Watching me.

Her jaw tensed, and the wine glass froze in midair. Her eyes focused on me.

Shit.

I quickly stepped back from Sebastian, laughed it off, and grabbed my drink, only to be stopped.

A hand was tightly wrapped around my wrist.

Fingers are warm.

"Lizzie—"

"Outside. Now."

Her voice sounded low. Controlled. Too calm.

She almost dragged me past the crowd and into a quiet corridor beside the kitchen, far enough away from the music to hear only the pounding of my own heartbeat.

And then, boom, I was pinned.

Back against a wall.

Her hands are on either side of my waist.

I'm breathing quickly.

Eyes are black.

"Are you trying to drive me insane?" she growled, moving closer.

I opened my mouth and nothing came out. I wasn't sure what to say.

She drew a trembling breath and moved back half an inch, leaving just enough space to make the tension break like a rubber band. Her voice lowered, harsh with pain. "You avoided me for weeks, Y/N."

I swallowed, remorse setting in.

"And now?" She sneered and clenched her fists. "Now you're out there... dancing with Sebastian like it's a fucking date? Really?" Her voice broke just enough to devastate me. "So what am I, nothing to you now?"

"Lizzie, no-"

"No? Then look me in the eyes and say that."

I tried. God, I tried.

But the moment our eyes met, my heart skipped, my throat tightened, and everything inside me screamed her name.

She laughed sadly, tears threatening but not dropping. "You can't, can you?"

I didn't respond.

"I was there for you," she muttered. "Through all of it. When you shut down, left the stage early, or stopped responding to texts. I waited. I worried. And still, I believed myself you only needed time."

Her fingers stroked my arm, sensitive yet trembling. "But then I walk in tonight and you're smiling like nothing happened. With him. And I can't." She broke off, coming closer.

"I can't look at you with him," she whispered. "Every time I see you with someone else, my body just"  Her breath caught. "Every part of me wants to take you away, Y/N. Take you out of this room, put you against a wall, and remind you who you belong to."

She was shaking, but not because she was weak.

Pain. Passion. Love entangled in an unbreakable knot.

"Don't you get it?" She breathed and looked at me as if I were the only thing keeping her alive. "I love you."

That shattered me.

"Liz-" I gasped out.

"I want you completely," she snapped. "I do not want a half-hearted version of you. I do not desire stray looks or hushed practice. I want the version who would whisper lines into my shoulder at midnight. The one who softened as I kissed her neck after a take. I want you.  All of you."

And then, suddenly, her lips were inches from me.

Breathless. Burning.

"I can't pretend this is just acting anymore. And I won't."

I gazed at her, every muscle in my body begging to let go. To give in. To tell her I felt the same way, that she wasn't alone in this insane situation. The fear of losing her kept me up every night.

"Say something," she begged.

My chest lifted and sank as if I'd just finished a marathon. Her words were still reaching in my mind: I want you totally. My lips split, but it seemed like my heart had risen up my throat,

I didn't have to think anymore. I didn't need to second-guess or pretend that she hadn't already blasted through every wall I'd ever created.

"Then kiss me."

Her breath caught.

That is all it took.

Lizzie jumped forward in an instant, her lips crashing against mine, angry and hungry. One hand was knotted in my hair, and the other gripped my waist as if she wanted to ground herself before losing control. I slid toward her, holding to her jacket as my lips parted without hesitation.

There was nothing planned or practiced about it. It was not a scene; it was real. Every brush of her tongue, every moan against my mouth, was messy, urgent, and true. We'd waited too long for this. And suddenly everything was spilling out.

She pushed me back against the wall, her body pressed against mine, her thigh slipping between mine with a possessive ease that made my breath catch and my knees weak.

Her mouth left mine, only to trail down my jaw and down my throat, biting softly before returning to my lips as if she couldn't stay away. Her hands were everywhere—sliding beneath my dress, holding my hips, and squeezing as if she didn't care who saw.

And perhaps she didn't. Perhaps I didn't either.

But then 

We heard laughter on the opposite side of the hallway. Someone is calling for Chris.

Lizzie remained still.

We were both panting, foreheads mashed together, and hearts pounding like thunder.

"I swear to God," she said, eyes still closed, "if someone ruins this again, I'll kill them."

I laughed out loud, my head tilted back against the wall. "We can't do this here."

She sighed and leaned in for one more kiss, slow this time, deep and devastating. Her hand caressed my cheek as she pulled away, her gaze softening.

"Come with me," she said, her voice lower now.  "Let me take you home."

I didn't even hesitate.

When we went out of that hallway, it was like walking into a spotlight. The party's talk stopped for a short moment before resuming.

"Ohhh, look who finally came up for air!" Anthony shouted, raising his cup with a smile.

Sebastian simply let out a long whistle. "It took you long enough. I thought you two were going to fuck each other there."

Chris smiled and nudged Scarlett. "Called it. I said by the end of the night, someone would be pinned to a wall."

Scarlett just rolled her eyes and raised her glass. "Finally."

I felt blood rush to my cheeks. Lizzie and I were still holding hands, fingers interlaced, lips swollen, lipstick slightly blurred, and out of breath. The proof was written all over us.

I squeezed her hand, holding back a laugh as Tom raised his brow and murmured to Zendaya, "Do we cheer? Clap? Light fireworks?"

"Fireworks," Zendaya responded without skipping a beat. "Obviously."

Lizzie simply rolled her eyes at each of them. "Children," she mumbled under her breath, turning to me with a little smile. "Let's get out of here before they start placing bets."

And with that, we slipped out.

Initially, the car was quiet. The city lights reflected a lovely golden tint through the windows, flickering over Lizzie's face as she drove. One hand on the steering wheel and the other on my thigh.

Her thumb brushed gentle circles at first, innocent and even oblivious. But things did not stay that way.

Her hand began to move higher, slowly and carefully.

"You know," she continued casually, not looking at me, "you have the worst poker face."

I swallowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She smirked. "Every time I touched you back there, your breathing changed."

I scoffed, my cheeks flushed. "It did not."

Her fingers climbed a bit higher. "Did so."

"Maybe you were just breathing harder, Olsen."

"Oh, baby." Her voice dipped, seductive and sexy. "I understand how you breathe when I touch you. I've been studying it for several months."

I turned to the window, trying not to burn, but she leaned in at a red light, whispering in my ear, "And when you moaned my name before... even if no one heard it, I did."

Her fingertips were no longer simply teasing my thigh. They explored slowly, confidently, and possessively. Moving up with purpose.

I shifted slightly in my seat, pretending I wasn't losing my mind, but my breath betrayed mesharp and sharp.

Lizzie's smirk deepened, her gaze fixated on the road as if she wasn't driving me insane. "I love how quiet you get when I touch you like this," she said.

Her fingertips dipped just beneath the bottom edge of my dress, brushing across the naked skin on my inner thigh. Higher. Slower. She wasn't hurrying anything. It was as if she wanted to memorize every inch, torturing me with excitement.

"You didn't want to talk to me for weeks," she said quietly and quietly, "but now look at you. "Falling apart in the front seat."

"Lizzie..." I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for just a moment.

She hummed. "You gonna beg me to stop?"

I shook my head, jaw gritted. "No."

She gave a quiet, satisfied laugh. Her hand reached just high enough to make me gasp, and then she drew away entirely.

"What the hell?" I looked at her, breathless, but she had already pulled into her driveway.

She slowly parked the car and then turned to face me. Her lips twisted into that arrogant, drop-dead gorgeous smile, which she knew had wrecked me.

"Get inside," she urged, her tone suddenly stern and forceful. "We're not done."

My heart pounded. "You, are you serious?"

She released her seatbelt with a gentle click. "You have been taunting me for months. Dancing with Sebastian, avoiding me, moaning my name when no one should hear..." Her glance swept over me. "You don't get to walk away again."

I swallowed hard, my knees wobbly, as I hopped out of the car and followed her to the door.

Lizzie turned around, jealousy in her eyes, as the door closed behind us. Before I could blink, she was raising me with ease, as if she had been waiting all night, and my legs reflexively wrapped around her waist.

"Bedroom," I whispered against her neck, my voice shaking.

She grinned. "Obviously."

Her lips claimed mine again, deep and eager, as she went down the hall as if nothing else mattered but putting me on her bed. I felt the heat coming from her skin, and mine felt similar—burning and throbbing.

As soon as we reached the door, she lowered me into the soft sheets—but didn't pull away. Her body hung over mine, her hands slipping under the sleeves of my dress, and her tongue trailing down the side of my neck. She picked a location just below my jaw and bit—not hard, but enough to make me gasp and leave a growing bruise that she had carefully planned.

"That's mine," she said, her voice low and full of yearning.

Her hands grew impatient, pushing the dress over my head, leaving me in nothing but lace. She sat back to view me, her chest rising and falling, mouth parted, and eyes wide.

"You're so beautiful, baby." She leaned back down and kissed my collarbone. "You've got no idea what you do to me."

I arched into her, moaning quietly as her hand moved between my thighs, her fingertips ghosting across the damp cloth. "Lizzie..."

"I know," she whispered. "I know, sweetheart."

She stripped me naked with slow, deliberate strokes, caressing every inch of exposed skin as if I were precious. Her lips traced a route down my ribs, stomach, and hips, leaving hickeys as evidence of possession.

She took her time, putting her fingers inside me just as her lips touched my breast, nibbling and teasing till I trembled beneath her. Her name escaped my lips in a breathy gasp again and over, and she enjoyed it. Her other hand held my wrist down softly but strongly.

"I want everyone to see what's mine," she muttered against my skin before leaving another mark right over my heart. "I want them to know."

I was lost in her, every touch, every breath, every piece of her weight on mine. She did not simply touch me; she held me. It seemed as if she was connecting me to the world. Even with all that dominance, there was a lot of love behind it.

When I came, it was with her name on my tongue, her hands grounding me, her lips murmuring praise I couldn't even process.

She didn't stop there.

Afterwards, she kissed me softly, her hands stroking my face, her voice gentler than ever. "You okay, baby?"

I nodded, still trying to catch my breath. "You ruined me."

She grinned. "I plan to do it again. And again."

Lizzie was still catching her breath as I rolled on top of her, straddling her hips with a playful grin.

She looked up at me, confused. "Oh, you're not done?"

I bent down and kissed her softly, tongue brushing against hers, one hand creeping into her hair and the other trailing down her warm chest.

"Not even close," I said softly against her lips. "My turn."

Her lips curled into a wicked smile. "Then take it, baby."

I kissed down her throat.

  Her skin tasted like salt and passion, like all the fire she'd poured into me, and now I was ready to return it all. My tongue reached the top of her breast, and I sucked softly before biting down just enough to make her hiss.

"Fuck, Y/N," she muttered, leaning into me. "You're getting cocky."

"You made me this way," I said, brushing my lips over her skin, lowering myself until I was kneeling between her legs.

She stared down at me, hair tangled around her pillow, lips puffy, cheeks flushed, and her eyes?

God, she looked destroyed, yet she was still so powerful. Even in surrender, she remained untouchable.

I pulled her thighs over my shoulders, kissed the inside of her knee, then the dip of her leg, and grinned as she snapped beneath me.

"You gonna be good for me?" I asked quietly.

"I'll be whatever you want," she said, her voice broken.

Lizzie's hand quickly reached the back of my head, fingers threading into my hair, as I kissed a stripe across her pussy

"Shit, Y/N. Yes. Exactly like that, baby."

I continued on, slowly at first, teasing her with the tip of my tongue, and watched her tear. Her hips rotated in quest of more, and I gave it to her flicking, sucking, and devouring her as if I were hungry. "Baby, you're really good at this," she sighed. "Fuck, you were made for me."

Her thighs gripped around my head as I murmured against her, sending vibrations through her core, causing her to cry out. She was panting now, rubbing against my mouth, and I didn't stop, not even when her moans became louder, she tugged my hair, or her back arched.

"You want to make me come, pretty girl?" she growled.

I gazed up at her, lips wet, and nodded. "Beg for it."

Lizzie's eyes brightened up. "Oh, fuck. Are you really going to make me?"

I smirked. "Yeah."

She let out a breathless laugh. "You don't realize how hot you are like this. Please, Baby. Please make me come."

That was all I needed.

I put two fingers into her, curving them perfectly while my tongue worked on her clit and the cry that exploded from her chest was filthy. Her body bucked, her feet pressed into my back, and she let out a low groan that rang throughout the room.

"Y/N. I'm, fuck, I'm coming!"

She cracked, yelling my name and writhing under me, her thighs tightening around my head like a vice. I didn't stop until she was exhausted, jerking, and gasping for air.

When I eventually crept back up her body, she looked beautiful. Her cheeks were flushed, her chest heaved, her hair tangled, and her red lips parted in the softest, sweetest grin.

She threw her arms around me and drew me into her.

I kissed her shoulder, then her neck. "You're mine."

"And you're mine," she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. "Every bit of you."

The first thing I noticed when I awoke was the silence.

The type of sweet, dreamy silence that only comes in the early morning. No cars, no texts, and no buzzing notifications. Just the warm weight of covers on my skin and the faint perfume of Lizzie on my pillow.

She was still sleeping next to me, her face buried in the blankets and one arm casually thrown across where I used to be. Her breathing was regular and quiet. Peaceful.

God, she was stunning like that.

I dropped a short kiss on her temple and slid out of bed as silently as possible, sliding one of her big t-shirts over my naked body. It covered my body, the sleeves almost reaching my elbows and touching the tops of my thighs like a dress. I grinned to myself, wondering why it felt so intimate to wear her clothing. I felt surrounded by her warmth even when she was sleeping.

Padding barefoot into the kitchen, I decided to be a nice girlfriend and prepare her breakfast. A small "thank you for last night" gesture. (And possibly: "I'm head over heels for you and can't stop thinking about how you kissed me like I was your whole world." )

When I added the eggs, the pan hissed, and I began looking around for coffee. It was busy but comfortable, me in her shirt, music playing gently from my phone on the counter, and dawn light streaming through the curtains.

Then I felt it: the familiar warmth.

Lizzie's chin settled on my shoulder as her arms wrapped around my waist from behind. She seemed warm and tired, her voice heavy and husky as she spoke.

"Mmm... Are you trying to kill me?"

I giggled and leaned back into her hug. "What?"

"You. In my shirt. Making breakfast. Looking like that." She nuzzled her cheek on my neck. "It is criminal. I should arrest you."

I grinned, putting down the spatula, and covered her hands with mine. "You're ridiculous."

"You love it."

"I do."

She hummed and gave me a delicate kiss just below my ear. "It smells nice. Are you attempting to tempt me into round two?"

I smirked as I glanced over my shoulder. "Would it work?"

Lizzie's eyes glittered, and sleep clung to her eyelids. "Baby, you are the reward."

We remained there for a bit, her arms wrapped around mine, our bodies swaying gently in time with the music. There is no haste, no world outside. It's just us.

"You know," she murmured softly, "this...this is everything."

I turned into her arms and wrapped mine around her neck. "What is?"

"This. Waking up with you. Seeing you in my kitchen. Wearing my clothes"

"Come back to bed," she whispered.

"But I'm cooking."

She nipped at my bottom lip. "Breakfast can wait."

And just like that, the eggs were forgotten...

[cyberqueenpatrol]

VIEWER!GHOST X YOUTUBER!READER

cw!: fem!reader, a bit of objectification, bit of perverse and creep behaviour

As the day winds up in the military barracks, Simon opens up his laptop, sitting with a Marlboro twirling between his index and ring finger. After all, even he needed some rest but his insomnia-drenched sleep won't let him doze off. So he just let his time be spent in this way.

But what is he watching? Million dollar question for a guy like him, right?

A petite, pretty girl's vlogs and gaming videos?!? (that's how he describes the girl)

YOUR YOUTUBE VIDEOS?!?

Man, he just loved the way you moved in front of the camera. He was entranced by the movement of your tits and swaying hips. His dick throbbed He was head over heels for you whenever you smiled. He had head in a mess of ecstasy, his ears sucking in every syllable of your voice. Whether it was your travel vlogs or GRWM videos, Simon had watched it all.

Simon was not very much bothered if any of the boys entered his room while he was watching your videos. Once, Price caught him jerking off vigorously, to you in the livestream (coz the thought of him directly being able to see you right at the moment drove him crazy).

"She still ain't ya birdie, L.T.", Price poked teasingly.

"But ain't far from 'hat", Simon replied, all while having a smirk on his scarred lips.

Once in a while, you would keep a quiz for anyone who wanted to gift you something. It was an easy one, the viewers just had to answer a question about your likes correctly and at the earliest.

"Okaaaaaay, so the the question is........" you say joyfully, your plush lips hypnotising Simon.

"What is my favourite colour? Very easy this time, isn't it?", you winked while reading the answers.

"Awww, many of you are commenting 'red'. You are so close to the answer! Just find the correct one in the shelves of your brain!", you say as you fake a pouty frown. You were never excessively trying to be cute in a cringe way, you were always fun to listen to.

Simon chuckled at your words, and typed out the answer with ease, hitting the send button.

"Wine"

Your excited eyes quickly catch the word in the ocean of comments under the livestream. You make a happy sound and clasp your hands together with a sparkle in your eyes.

"Aha! There it is! Wait, wait, where is username of winner, huh???", you exclaimed, scrolling through vast sea of comments under your livestream.

Simon wasn't a man of many words, in fact Johnny was the one who told him about you. He just typed out,

"Here"

"Oh yes! I found it guys, I found it. So it's #ghostriley. Pretty unique name, isn't it? Hello Riley! Well, first congrats on winning the quiz! Looks you paid a lot of attention to hidden clues in my previous videos. Hehehe! So, I m now...........sending.......", you win his heart with his words with these simple sentences as you type your post address to his account.

Simon almost cums at the way you said 'Oh yes'. He cannot look away, with you just biting your lower, plush lip as you write out your post address. God, he was so out of his mind. All that Simon could of was the numerous ways to make you satisfied and happy. He would anything for you. A.N.Y.T.H.I.N.G.

"Sent! Did you receive the message, Riley? Maybe it'll take some time. Don't worry, if you don't get it. You can ask me anytime, happy to help, ya know", your bubbly smile threw Simon in a mess and your soothing words cured his deepest wounds for the time being, if not entirely.

"Received. Thank you. Will recieve your gift in your gift in a few days,hm?", Simon typed out, as his other window was already in the process of shipping out the gift to your address.

"That's great, Riley! I will definitely look forward to your gift. I ma sure to must be having something good!", you radiantly smiled, earning lust-filled groan from Simon. Not to mention he also smirked as fucked the life out in his fist.

"Ok people, now it's........very late. So we need go to sleep, don't we? We don't want any eye bags,hmmmm? Ok so, I am turning it off now. Bye everyone! Good night! Sweet dreams! Stay tuned for what's Riley gonna gift me!", you beamed as you wrapped up the livestream. Soon you went to bed, waiting for the surprise in the few days.

A few days later

The Sunday morning went very cozy and satisfyingly slow, with you completing the household chores, feeding your cat Ron and listening to some music. Later, the sharp sound of the doorbell pierced through the tranquility of your flat. It must be the gift, you thought to yourself.

You open the door, just to see a young lad struggling with a cardboard box large enough to make a cathouse for Ron. You smoothly took the box from him, assuring him that it was fine for you to carry the box. He gave you a sheet to sign, but something struck you as odd. Usually there would a name of the sender with the city name. Here it was only Manchester written in the block on the sheet.

You just shrug it off, as you close the door with your pyjama-clad leg, thinking that there might be an error from the courier services. As soon as you put down the box, you realise it was REALLY heavy. But a chuckle came from your mouth, seeing Ron already establishing the cardboard box as his territory.

You decide to begin the livestream in the evening, but you needed to first inform your followers. You click on the app icon, not expecting much notifications. It's a Sunday morning, who would even bother to wake up and miss on their beautiful sleep.

"1 unread message"

Wow, maybe someone has really woken up. Anyways, it's gonna be just a reel from your friends just having free-

"Got the gift, sweetheart?"

You almost choke on your homemade strawberry milkshake, as your brain reels into a mess. Your finger nearly physically stammer as your message was being typed out.

"Yes,Riley! The parcel's here, all safe and sound. I just opened this thing to inform yall that livestream's gonna be in the evening"

"Good to hear that. Thank you :)"

"That's my pleasure! I m really happy to get the gift, and I hope that you'll like the livestream. Stay tuned at 19:00!!!

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, love"

You nearly feel the temperature and blush rising up in your cheeks. Boy, they were such simple words, yet they had so much influence on you. Just imagine if someone said that to you in real life.......................

The evening rolls around, with you setting up the necessary preparations for the livestream. You hit the start button with much anticipation, excited to see your followers again.

"Heyyyyyyyyyy luvvies!! I am back here to bring something delicious for you sweeties to chew on! As you know from earlier livestream, we had picked out a winner- #ghostriley! And today's the day to check their gifts. Anddddddd.......is everyone excited??", your bubbly voice boomed through Simon's headphones, who had already kept a box of tissues beside him.

"So, Riley, can we start the unboxing with your command?", you leaned towards the camera, your eyes sparkly and the curve of your pretty tits conspicuous to Simon's eyes. Your honey-laden voice was enough to open his zipper.

"Sure,love", Simon typed out, the fist of his calloused hands already wrapped around his cock. He knew that it was very immoral to do something like that behind the screen, but he couldn't help but thik your pussy would feel instead of his rough hands.

You were a little flushed, being all new to someone calling you pretty nicknames. And that face of yours was not escaping Simon's eyes by any chance. He was already turned on, and this face just aggravated it.

"OK then, let's open the big boy up! I really didn't expect it to be this big", you exclaim as you dig the cardboard knife through the its thickness. But to Simon, all dark and primal thoughts lurked in his mind no matter how much he tried to banish them. He was enticed by the way your tongue stuck out while you focused on opening the box, wanting to strike those pretty lips with his own.

"Ha! Here it is!", you say as the box was being opened by your curious hands. The first that you got hold of was a big glass box, carefully wrapped to avoid damage. No way, you thought.

IT WAS A LIFETIME SUPPLY OF YOUR FAVOURITE SHADES OF LIP GLOSSES??!??

Boy, that must hella expensive now. Your jaw was visible open, your lips parted onto an O as you looked down at the lip glosses. You glanced at the camera and back to box.

"OK,OK, now lemme get this straight. This. Must. Be. Very. Expensive. Like man, you people DON'T need to gift such costly things and empty your bank account, please, like really", your voice was reflected shock clearly.

But to Simon, it was nothing. You were the only pretty thing in his life. So why not spend money on it? He loved the way your eyes widened, it would a lie to say that Simon didn't enjoy the view.

"But I've to say it, Riley, like- damn, thank you. So much and so bad. Never felt so damn special in my life.", you giggled at the end and held them lip glosses close to your chest, as the box made its outline in your plush tits something that Simon wanted to grab so bad

"Anything for the lady", Simon typed out with generous amount of love in his heart, causing you to evidently blush at this comment.

"Hehe, thank you very much, Riley. That's very much of a gentleman whom I would like to meet one day. Yes, definitely!", your words perked up Simon's ears, at which he satisfyingly smirked under his balaclava. His thick, girthy cock had no less chubbed up

"OK,there's like more gifts in here!", your voice chirped up, as you dug through the bubble wrap that secured it. There was long, red box at the bottom, but the bubble wrap was your favourite thing to pop since childhood. It was kind of a therapy for you.

"Hey people, look at this. I bet there's no one in this world who has never popped this thing. This is my therapy, you know, because I am too broke to afford the real one. Anyways, there's this red box here though.........", you say as your hands dig towards the bottom of box.

Simon chuckled deeply at your humour, enamoured by your ability to keep people hooked with your thoughts. But right now, his gift might keep your mind hooked for days and nights especially.

"Can pay for anything you want, sweetheart.", Simon hit the send button, just to see how it would claw at your heartstrings.

Mentally, your jaw was on the floor. Physically, your mouth was actually gaping. You fingers subconsciously traveled to your lips, and Simon was nothing new to body language. He knew that it was something that you did when your mind was thoroughly engrossed and curious.

"Oh-oh no, Riley, I am definitely not a pick me, hehe. Don't spoil me like that.", your words did sound nervous, and definitely Simon loved that he could make you flustered even though he was just behind a screen.

"Anyways, Riley, let's see what's your last gift of the day! I think it's a bottle of wine, maybe.", Simon grinned darkly at your completely wrong guess, only waiting for you to open the box.

"And here we go!", you say with much excitement and anticipation, as your hand slowly lifts off the lid, with Simon's eyes as curious as yours, but he desired your reaction more than ever. Your hopeful eyes sparkled as your brain analysed the image captured by your eyes.

No way. No fucking goddammit way, you thought.

A dark purple vibrator. Sitting in all its glory in the red silky set of thin,red lingerie underneath it. BUT A GODDAMN VIBRATOR LIKE FOR REAL-

A piece of paper fell out from the underside of the lid, with your face providing a perfectly pathetic look for the dark, grimy mind of Simon. Definitely something was scrawled on it-

"A mould of mine, lovie"

[flowercrownsandherondales]

Against the Odds

Hi everyone! SOTR has thrown me into the deepest depression, and I wanted to try my hand at fanfiction again to try and heal this ache. I’m not sure how this will be received, but I hope someone gets enjoyment out of it! It will develop into a Haymitch story I swear! Let me know what you think!

I: Prologue 

Reaping days rarely held any difference. There was an unspoken schedule to them that kept families of District 12 from going mad with fear and grief. Wake up, do as much of your job as possible, splash some water on yourself and dress in a ragged and tired looking outfit that is the best you can muster, and go into the square to see which one of your neighbors will be irreparably broken. 

Today held an inch of silver lining for me. While I still have two more years of reapings, Wyatt was done after today. 

We had attempted not to celebrate too early last night. Once I had gotten done helping Ma with chores, watching after the neighbor kids while their parents were shipped off to work themselves to death, and kissing my father’s coal stained cheek as he heaved off his gear, I shipped off to meet Wyatt near the edge of the woods. 

His family didn’t have the greatest reputation. Booker boys were typically looked at with disgust, especially this time of year. My boy was an oddsmaker, and while I had no clue what he spouted off 99% of the time when it came to work, I knew he wasn’t the one making the bets.

 “Odds are odds, Y/N. Sometimes they’re shitty when you wish they weren’t.” He would whisper, clutching my hand like a lifeline. 

My oddsmaker was my everything. Everything else just orbited around him. One more day, one more and he’ll be safe. 

Twilight had just set in by the time we met, rushing towards each other and sweeping through the grass and into the dirt. He’d raided half a bottle of Jethro’s white liquor he’d no doubt bought in his latest win. We passed the bottle between us as easily as kisses, enraptured in his arms and legs. 

“You’re gonna get out. You’ve made it this far. I’m gonna get out, and I’m gonna spend every day after just like this.” I rubbed his arm that wrapped around my waist, trying to soothe the anxiety that radiated off him. 

He gave a tired, gentle smile at that, humming to himself and tightening his hold. I peered up at him, his eyes fixed on the land ahead of us. 

“How can I make it go away?” I asked, hoping he would catch onto where I was going. I’d been getting special herbs under the table from the hob, and they seemed to be working in my favor if the past few months were any indication. I’d been too embarrassed to see Astrid about it. 

His smile shifted from gentle to embarrassed before settling on ravenous. I used to shake my head whenever the women in the seam would tote around a multitude of kids, waddling off to the hob with a huge belly leading the way. How they could let themselves be in that position, how they could give birth and love these children that were on the brink of death. It seemed like a ticking time bomb, ready to blow and cause only devastation in its wake. As I grew older and saw my own lover heaving from the mines, it clicked. I understood the homecoming. 

We spent the rest of the night joined together, holding on like it was our last. 

Not realizing it was. 

The next day held unfounded horror. I stood behind Maysilee, Merrilee and Astrid as her name was called, watching as they clung together. My hands started to shake. Most people in the seam weren’t fans of Maysilee Donner, but she had never been outright rude to me. Sometimes she would sneak a spare piece of taffy into my bag, silently conveying it was for the kids. Louella would squeal when I handed it to her, her little brunette pigtails bobbing as she jumped up and down and devoured the sweet. 

The sweet little girl’s pigtails, now turned to braids, bobbed the same way as her name was called and she marched to her death. 

I squeezed my hands into fists, willing myself not to cry for the little girl I had helped take care of since birth. Wyatt made eye contact from across the way, a knowing look of grief sewn on his face. Lenore Dove in all her covey sweetness stood next to me, gently brushing her hand across my fisted one and giving me a similar look of shared grief. I had run into her briefly with Louella a few times, the little girl dragging me around to look for Sid and Haymitch Abernathy. Both boys were some of the kindest in the seam, and I never minded the days that Louella wanted to be around them. 

I was too wrapped up in the moment with Lenore to realize who had been called next. 

Wyatt Callow. 

My heart dropped into the ground, threatening to swallow me whole. I knew I had let out a gasp, and then all I heard was ringing. He held himself with strength, squaring his shoulders and walking up with a distant stare. My throat was closing, my whole body shaking with a held back scream. I watched every emotion fall onto his face as chaos erupted around us when the other name was called. A gunshot, someone pushing me to the ground, Lenore Dove yelling, Drusilla screeching like a bird. Wyatt standing pale as a ghost watching me the entire time. Bile rose up, and I willed myself to force it down. Tears coated my face, my hair sticking to them. Finally another name. Haymitch Abernathy. 

My mind was in a fishbowl. My breathing heavy and sharp. I was going to die. 

Drusilla announced that there would be no goodbyes this year. Everyone started to clear the square with his howling. Peacekeepers pushed us out, and I finally got control of my limbs enough to push back, screaming for Wyatt. 

“Let me see him! I need to see him! Give him BACK!” I thrashed, watching as they loaded him into the train car. Finally they released me once I was out of the square, and I looked around, following the train as it departed. I could follow it, make it to the edge before it disappeared with my boy, my oddsmaker, forever. 

Lenore Dove had beaten me there, tears running down her own face. Haymitch. The thought took the air right from my lungs. I caught a glimpse of Wyatt, face to the glass near Haymitch as they watched us scream for them. His eyes wide and fearful, conveying just how fucked this situation was. His mouth moved, whispering something. 

The odds are in. I love you.

With that he was gone. And so was my entire orbit. 

I turned to the side and vomited. 

[awritessomething]

Can I request a Dallas Liu's Zuko angst? The reader tries helping Zuko, and his anger gets the best of him, causing the reader to run away. He chases after her after realizing his mistake. Fluff at the end, please and thank you!

𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 | dallas liu!zuko x fem!reader

Requests Masterlist

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Zuko is trying to train. His aim is off, so his girlfriend tries to give him unwanted advice.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | angst, pre-established relationship, zuko accidentally burns her, pet names (baby, love), fluff at the end.

I wrote this yesterday and it didn’t save. Anyways I have no motivation and I just got broken up with so mb on slow updates

Zuko was a man who was never too good at controlling his anger. He took it out on most people around him, yet he did his very best not to take it out on his girlfriend. She was the only person who he believed was truly just there to love him.

On a particularly hard day after Aang got away once again, Zuko was training on the ship. He was struggling with his aim which was rare. He had been going for hours and hours. He looked exhausted. Y/N walked over to him.

Her hand lightly touched his arm. He gave a grunt of acknowledgment. She sighed from the lack of recognition, but she still took it.

“Zuko, love, take a break,” she whispered. His bicep flexed under her hand, showing his annoyance. “Just for a minute. If you’re just angry then you wont be able to get it.”

Zuko glared at her and took in a sharp inhale as he tried to calm himself down for a second. He showed no interest whatsoever in stopping. Her hand slid down his arm to touch his hand.

“Five minutes, Zuko. It’ll hel-”

“Stop it. I don’t need your help! You’re not a fire bender, so what do you know?” Zuko growled as he yawned his arm away from her. Y/N winced and stumbled backwards, looking down at her wrist. “Just… go and sip tea with my uncle or something.”

Y/N stayed silent and then nodded, walking away quickly. She was holding onto her wrist. She did indeed go and drink tea with Zukos uncle. He was a good man. Zuko was out on the deck of the ship for a few more hours. His mind was filled with thoughts of Y/N at this point though.

He took a seat on the side of the ship where there was a small spot to sit. He looked down at his hands. They were shaking. Zuko thought back to the way he talked to Y/N earlier and he dropped his head into his hands. Total guilt.

Zuko thought back to what had been said. He thought of the quiet insults that he had muttered afterwards. Then he thought of the pained look on her face. He had no clue what had happened to make her look that way.

A few short moments later, Zuko left his seat and walked over to where he knew that she would likely be. He knocked lightly on the door before going in. It only took a few seconds for his eyes to land on her. She was sitting on a small couch, her knees pulled up to her chest and a book rested in her hands.

“Y/N?” Zuko said her name cautiously as he walked over to her. She glanced up and gave him a small smile. “Hey, I’m sorry about earlier.” His voice was quieter than normal.

“Hm? Oh, no. I understand. Its fine.”

“Come on, Y/N. I’m sorry,” he kneeled in front of her and took the book from her hands. Zuko set it aside and then held onto her hands. She pulled her hands away. Zuko frowned. “I didn’t mean to yell. I was just frustrated.”

“I know, Zuko. Its fine,” she said again and gave him another smile. He could see that she was partially lying and it pained him. His hand moved slightly and pushed up her sleeve. After she had left Zuko alone, she had put on a sweater. He looked at her wrist, then up at her.

“Did I do that, baby?” Zuko asked, mortified at the burn mark that spread from the start of her wrist to the middle of her forearm. She pulled her arm away.

“Yeah. Its nothing though. I’m fine. Stop asking.” She yanked her hand away, unhappy with his pestering. He nodded.

“Come on. Please?” he begged for her forgiveness. Y/N sighed and then reached out with her non burnt hand and then touched his cheek. She gave him a smile. A bigger smile than before. “Is that a yes, love?”

“Of course. Its not like I can stay mad at you,” she gave him a kiss on the forehead. He nodded and then stood up. He put out his hand for her, she took it. Zuko brought her to his quarters where he did his best to bandage her wound. He was no medic. “You know its not that big of a deal, right?” Y/N asked as she looked at him. He was standing between her legs as she was sitting on his bed. He was very focused.

“I feel bad,” he muttered. He brought her newly bandages wrist to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the middle. She laughed.

The next day, Zuko was back doing his practices with his aim. Y/N was sitting at the side, silently watching him. When she noticed that his anger was getting to him again, she stood up and walked to him.

“Calm down, love. Come on, sit with me for a minute?” Y/N asked, lightly touching his arm again. His fingers flexed, but this time he nodded and lowered his hands. They sat together, her head resting on his shoulder. Next time he tried, he got it down.

[respectthepetty]

DMD 2025(?) - The Pros and Con-fusion

Domundi had its annual unveiling of upcoming shows, and like the liar it is, we were told all the shows on the 2025 lineup would be coming in 2025.

So even though I highly doubt that, I'm going to go through the pros and cons of each show according to my feelings and vibes since I'm always excited to see boys kiss their homies (and the possibility of more girls kissing their homies too!).

Zomvivor

The only non-BL show on the roster about a group of students fighting for their lives against zombies.

Pros: I have waited three years for this damn show, and I'm finally getting it DURING HALLOWEEN! Plus it looks like Boss and Boun are still in it!

Cons: I have waited three years for this damn show, and I'm not getting it until the end of this year!

Love Upon a Time

We got a new pilot for the show that depicts a college student being sent back in time to figure out who tried to kill his past self as we watch him fall in love.

Pros: This pilot fleshed out more of the story and although it still has some of the same beats, it feels different enough to showcase the pair's strengths.

Cons: Tonnam in brown face because he plays a servant and laborers must be dark-skinned.

Your Third

A worker is sent by his boss to collect the boss' younger brother, but hijinks ensue, and the worker ends up falling in love.

Pros: MaxNat!

Cons: I'm a MaxNat fan; therefore, there are NO cons! NONE!

Mr. Fanboy

A fan of a famous actor lands the dream role acting with his idol only to realize the business is more vicious than he imagined and sometimes it's best not to meet your faves.

Pros: Auau and Save look perfect for these roles, plus Jur from Jinloe is acting as support. On top of that, we get James looking delicious!

Cons: It is going to deal with shipping and toxic fans, which I feel most of the offerings we've had lately about those subjects have missed the mark in some way, so I'm hoping this one hits its target.

You(r)tuber

After being betrayed by his boyfriend and his best friend, a shy guy decides to step in front of the screen and prove he has what it takes to be a star with the help of his cameraman.

Pros: COOHEART! And he was being The Worst™! Also, I think it's color-coded.

Cons: Intouch is lying right? He was not the person Khun was supposed to meet, right? He just heard the name and decided it was his chance to get involved in Khun's life because he has a crush on him, right?! RIGHT?!

Duang With You

A boy openly chases after the most popular guy in school much to the popular guy's amusement.

Pros: We didn't get enough of this pair in Your Sky, so I'm excited to see what they bring to this series, and I like that the shy guy will go after the popular guy only to realize he might be in over his head.

Cons: That odd top/bottom discussion at the end of the trailer was a misstep in what had a been a solid trailer.

Restart

I have no clue, but this is the one I'm most excited for because I *think* a student gets a second chance to destroy the elite who hold the power to decide who lives and dies within an oppressive school system.

Pros: TOPTAP AND POPPY!!!!!!! Also, this is what all those GMMTV and Korean shows about crazy schools hinted at, but now Domundi is committing to it. There were so many naked bodies in this, and it's going to be QUEER with so many BL boys with the possibility of making out with each other, yet Tommy is going to hold down the fort for the heteros.

Cons: Grown ass men in school uniforms.

Magic Lover

Three wizards get sent to the human realm to find love in thirty days or they will be turned into animals for eternity.

Pros: First, color-coded wizards! Then, three different stories that revolve around high school enemies, a coffee shop with a mentor and mentee, and a boss and his secretary. My ass is sat! I'm excited for this because I love that Thomas gets to be a little bitch while Jimmy is going to be the mentor who falls in love. Oh, and that ending when Kong's character said if it was between sex or a life as an animal, he was picking that animal life.

Cons: Did you not read there were color-coded GAY wizards?! There are no cons! This is us winning!

HugELhee The Musical

An aspiring musician falls on hard times when his mother becomes ill only for another problem to arrive in the form a wealthy kid trying to get his land.

Pros: It's a musical! I know I hate when a boy sings his feelings in a BL, but starting with the premise of this being a musical changes everything. It's queer. It's camp. It's theater!

Cons: Twins?! I guess.

Thomas x Kong

They had two other series announced: Your Sky of Us which will continue their story from Your Sky with the two other couples in three episodes, and Unknown Lover which is about a boy who goes to New York after being betrayed and gets involved with a bad boy who shows him a whole new world (OF SEX!).

Pros: I think Your Sky of Us was filmed during the filming of Your Sky because those Q's were long, so I'm hoping we can get that soon. I also think these two can do well with high heat, so Unknown Lover seems like it'll be good with them, but that was part of the 2025+ lineup, so it might be a minute before we see it.

Cons: If some fans were in their feelings about Rak wanting sex in Your Sky, I hate to see how they feel with an adult Rak in Your Sky of Us and Kong getting a sex education in Unknown Lover.

Engineering: Crazy in Love

Not much is known except Tutor and Yim will be one of the pairs, but I missed which one (if it was even stated). This was also part of the 2025+ lineup, so we'll see it in 2028. EDIT: Apparently, it's a reboot of the Animal Line (Dinosaur Love) stories, so Lord help us all.

Rak Nee Mai Dai Service

After his reputation is ruined, an actor turns to a reality show only to be partnered with a famous idol who apparently hates the gays.

Pros: I like the plot!

Cons: It's part of the 2025+ lineup, so we will see it in 2029.

GL Series

All that is known is that the company plans to have a GL series, but it is part of the 2025+ lineup, so we will get it in 2030.

DMD Sitcom

It is going to feature the company's entire roster, but I didn't understand what exactly it would be, but knowing Domundi, we will probably get it next month and it'll be like Rose in Da House, which I ain't mad about!

Hope to see these show before 2030!

[skynights2]

Rich and Patty hall- Husband and Wife=Huggy and Kissy update

(spoiler chapter 4 near end)

so far

Chapter 2 confirms Rich has a note with hearts to call patty hall.

Chapter 3 Rich mentions he has a wife, and he is trying to be better for her! So with the in game clue left for us. Small piece each chapter. This points to Rich and patty being husband and wife as a strong Possibility. The only two character who are married in the employee list that we know of from the documents/vhs tapes.. Also noted Rich last name is never revealed and his year date on vhs. So this could mean slow big reveal.

It's never confirmed why Patty was defiant against the company.. But if Rich is the first who goes missing.. Then his wife would most likely get frustrated with no one knowing where Rich went. and we know from chapter 4 vhs they confirm they cover up missing people who worked in poppy playco company.. So patty not gonna get any answers unless she get their attention.. and she did...when they sent her to storage B, where we know Kissy is stored.. As documents state Patty hall has been dealt with...

Though not fully- As even when she becomes Kissy she still helping us the player, breaking the rules against the company that took her husband and also turned her into toy.

I am not sure Rich-huggy is aware of his wife fate... notice in game. both the bigger bodies of Huggy and Kissy have not interacted all game.

Rich statement- he trying to be better for her, his wife who he loves.. I could see this might be the turning point for rich/huggy turning on the prototype.

Also interesting thing in chapter 3 Rich mention he feels like everyone out to get him before he promoted..

From the doey clue, I think he might found huggy and patched him up. As when doey sees kissy. He is shocked and mentions to get the medic. They are also short supply down there.

Though other strong possibility is rich repaired himself with duct tape. As we know he worked in shipping, and what do box need when closed? tape and lots of it.

What could be end goal for Huggy and Kissy fate though in probably the last chapter?

Well from clue it's possible Patty was thinking of adoption, and Rich was aware. As chapter 3 Kissy is shown looking at one the children picture-possible one of the kids she would adopted if not turned into kissy.

And we do have a child, that being Poppy.

Poppy is a child as even in recent vhs tapes she states she misses her dad. When poppy starts to have a breakdown. Kissy concern for poppy over her own fear shows. Showing patty care for the child breaking infront of her. In the newest tapes Rich is shown looking out for his younger employee. and calls him kid. So to me this shows rich and patty might have adopted a child if not what happen to both of them. As in chapter 3 kissy was shown aggressive when we neared the abandons orphanage area.. And she know what they do the children in here.

As kissy stays behind to follow poppy and protect her from the prototype. She shows concern like a mother looking out for her child.

As we see her hang on the cliff ledge after she looses her right arm. choosing to stay behind and go after Poppy.

kinda symbolic now both of them have lost their arm. Kissy right arm, and Huggy left arm.

The only thing left is to See if Rich realize his Wife is also down here with him... Maybe they threaten Rich to behave or they turn his wife like they did him.. Rich did escape to some unknown house.. probably his house.. where he and patty lived.. Trying to go back to her.. but probably realizing his appearance would scare her nor would she recognize him while she was still human at the time.

Would explain Rich anger issue/behavior doing 180 for the company. Better for his wife safety. once they realized. He was patient all those years and showed no mercy in the hour of joy..

I think in the end when they reunite, after learning the truth.. Could maybe get them fixed up by the player, and poppy is adopted by Rich and patty..