#and decide what to keep and what to change

[madamechrissy]

Baby You're a Star

Art in the banner by Kerravi on x!

Summary- You meet Satoru Gojo at a wild Hollywood party, insanely out of place, waiting for your friend to show up. The two of you hit it off, spending time together, and share a kiss, but you're a good girl, and you just don't do this, but he is the top pornstar there is, and the top .01 % on OnlyFans. Once you find out, you know there's probably no match, as Satoru doesn't date, and you don't sleep around, but after meeting, you keep in touch- and soon Satoru can't get hard without thinking of you, and you get over curious, and join a livestream of the boy you like. Just how will that go for you both!?

Warnings- this time, lots of fluff, sweet confessions, emotional, mentions of Satoru's past and how he got in the industry, former Nerdjo mentioned. Also explicit sex, oral (f receiving) Gojo worshipping you, breedkink, creampie, fingering, squirting, dirty talk WC this chap- 9.6k

A/N- omg one more chapter, we are at the end! Taglist closed- please comment/rb if you enjoy <3

<<<Chapter Six - Masterlist- Playlist- Chapter Eight >>> (Final! - coming soon)

Chapter Seven

Satoru is nervous.

 He’s never really been on a ‘date’ before, he’s been on many meetings with girls from work, get togethers and hang outs, but he’s never been on something so official, even back when he was with the woman who got him into the industry. They of course fucked constantly, they went out together to hit parties, but it wasn’t that official term, not like this with you.

A real date.

Something he’s been playing over and over in his head for all these months, imagining if things could have gone differently, that night when the girl came up to him, and Nanami came up to you. Could he have said - yes, she’s my date - and not been so fucking terrified of the change? When you looked at him that way, as if you were waiting for his answer, could he have given it?

He shoves all of that back now, it’s all in the past, and the two of you have been in constant contact this week in anticipation, down to you sending him dresses you’re thinking of wearing. Suguru keeps mentioning the dopey fucking grin on his face every time you text him, and every time he calls you, the two of you end up falling asleep on the phone together.

You’re his girlfriend.

He’s actually gotten you a corsage, you maybe thought he was kidding, but he absolutely was not. He’s standing in front of your door, when he finally knocks on it, rapping his knuckles across it, and soon you’ve opened it, standing there so beautiful you make him ache. In so many fucking ways, too.

For every bit of Satoru that wants to rip this pretty little blue dress off you, another part wants to simply kiss your forehead.

The affection is as intense as the longing, the desire to have you with him always, not schedule times and days and work arounds. He knows that is what both of you have to do, but there’s a little part of him that would die to just have you with him, constantly. In his bed, waking up next to him, something he never knew he would want or crave so badly.

Your eyes light up, brilliant without your glasses on, he can’t decide what he likes better - how fucking pretty you are with them, or getting to look into them clearer without them on. You have cherry red lipstick across your lips, and a little blush on your cheekbones, your hair done up in a way that makes him crave yanking it out, letting it tumble and fall over your shoulders as he kisses you.

“Satoru, oh I’m so excited!” You’re grinning, melting his heart then, he swallows a little nervously again, leaning down and tilting your chin up with two fingers.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss on your lips, you tremble at it, your hands slipping up his chest, over the pretty light blue dress shirt he’s wearing. “We match.”

“We do,” you kiss him again, tugging at his collar, sighing into his mouth at how good it feels. “You look handsome, Satoru.”

“Of course I do.” You snort now, shaking your head and stepping back and tugging at his hands.

“Come in real quick, I need to throw my heels on and get a jacket,” he steps inside, noticing the couch is still very much spotless, no more tangled blankets, he smiles as you sit on the couch then and slip on a pair of black heels. “I’m very, very excited you know.”

“So am I,” he comes over then, kneeling and halting you before you slip the other shoe on, taking it from your hand. He presses a kiss on your bare knee, watching you react, your hands trembling, your breath quickening. “Let me.”

“You’re making me feel like Cinderella or something,” you tease, he laughs a bit softly, eyeing the flustered mess he’s made you. “I could get used to this treatment.”

“I could get used to treating you this way,” he murmurs, securing the little buckle now, hand slipping up your thigh slowly, he leans close, your fingers card through the snowy locks of his hair. “Like a little princess.”

“Satoru,” you lean down and kiss him again, deeper this time, he tugs you close as he sits between your thighs, feeling your heat. You pull back, breath ghosting his lips, he notices he’s kissed just a bit of your tint off, a fainter red now. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you.” You both kiss once more, it takes every ounce of self control not to devour you, that soaking wet little cunt so ready for him to drink up, but he knows you both have to take time, even when your bodies completely disagree. He pulls back and sighs, caressing your cheek carefully. “Don’t make it so hard for me to be a gentleman, do you know what it’s like right now?”

“You’re the one over here making me think insane thoughts,” you pout, and he grins, easing back just a bit. “This is not a good position for you to be in with where my mind is going.”

“And what is your innocent mind thinking of, hmm?” He raises a brow, so charming, still on his knees over your plush carpet. “Blushing, cute.”

“Shh! You know what I’m thinking, it’s not innocent…” you shift a bit closer, his hand slips up the inside of your thigh now. 

“No? Are you being a bad girl?” He grins, still slowly inching up, watching you shift on the couch.

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Maybe I wanna hear it,” he kisses your thigh now, watching goosebumps rise where his lips press, hearing your soft whine along with the little pop of his lips. “I can make it happen after the date, if you want it to.”

You bite your lower lip, while he looks up at you under his snowy lashes, just a little red on his own lips now. “I was thinking of places that really miss being kissed by you.”

“Oh, here?” He kisses your knee, and you giggle. “Or… here?” He kisses higher, teasing you with a nip of his sharp teeth.

“No,” he’s chuckling now, fuck he doesn’t remember the last time he felt like this, even with you. It was sexual so quickly and so intense there wasn’t much room for teasing. Your fluttering pulse and quick heart rate are matched by his own, when you run your thumb over his plump lip. “You know where I miss it most.”

“It’s here, isn’t it?” He grabs your wrist now, pressing a kiss along the delicate inside of it, over the little veins raised ever so slightly.

“You found it,” his teeth nip your wrist now, shooting desire hot and heavy, while his fingers slip dangerously close to your core. “Mnh…”

“I know, I can’t wait to taste your sweet little cunt again,” his words are husky, deep toned, that voice that feels like he’s touching you, pulling back now to tug out a pretty bunch of blue flowers from his black jacket. “But I’m going to do this right this time.”

“Satoru, did you really get a corsage!?” You’re giggling, the sound making him melt as he takes your hand now. “I didn’t think you actually would!”

“I told you I would,” he kisses the back of your hand after slipping it over your wrist, little delicate blue flowers adorning it now. “I think now you’re ready for this date, yeah?”

You blink back emotions, kissing him again, he’s still on his knees, arms wrapping your waist, kissing your lips over and over, sighing into them. “Did I tell you, I never went to prom?”

“Never?” He pulls back curiously, and you nod. “Tell me why, I want to know so much, who you were. Were you a little nerd?”

“Of course I was, I just played DnD that night.” He grins then, so handsome he breaks your heart into pieces.

“Guess what?”

“Hmm?”

“I didn’t go to mine either. I was also playing DnD.”

“No way!”

“Mmhmm,” he’s chuckling along with you, you kiss him again, a sweet little peck, shaking your head. “I was a nerd.”

“No way, I can’t even picture it!” He shrugs a shoulder and stands now, holding your hands and tugging you up, your head falls back to look at him. “There’s so much I don’t know about the man I fell in love with.”

It’s quiet then, he rests his head on yours, cupping your face, too quiet, your mind races. This will be the third time you’ve confessed, and the prior two were not met with answers, you curse internally, wishing you could keep it under wraps, wondering if you’re pushing it too far. But he pulls back, lips parted, exhaling and studying you carefully.

“You do not have to say it back-”

“I fell in love with you when I fucking saw you,” you pause, a little gasp the only noise aside from your pounding heart, beating so loudly, you can feel it thudding. “It scared the fuck out of me. I tried to explain it away in every different way, it must be your looks, it must be the chemistry, it must be a connection. Anything to avoid knowing what it was.”

“Satoru…” You’re blinking tears, little trails of mascara falling which he swipes up with his fingers.

“I was just really scared. I’ll get more into my past tonight, but I didn’t think this sort of thing was possible. These six months have been fucking torture,” you’re a mess now, while he tugs you closer, hands slipping down your bare shoulders. “I should have said it back.”

“It’s okay, it really is, you weren’t ready just yet.” He exhales, leaning low and kissing you once more, tasting the salty tears that fall.

“I wanted to do this after the date, I had a plan you brat.” You giggle now, as he keeps swiping at your tears. “All this work on your makeup too, want me to fix it for you?”

“You can do makeup?” You ask softly, he nods.

“I did a lot on set. You just need a touch up, though you’d be a pretty racoon, too. Where’s the makeup?”

“Scattered all over the sink,” he sees that clearly when you’re in your bathroom now, there are exactly seven lipsticks set out. “I couldn’t decide!”

“Always red, it’s my favorite on you,” he carefully takes your concealer and wets your makeup sponge like a pro as you watch. “Yes, I know how to do it pretty well.”

“Putting on my makeup and my shoes? I’ll never let you go,” you tease, while he dabs under your eye, touching up the little black spots as you look up. It’s quiet then, but he finishes that, tilting your chin up again. “Do I need more lipstick?”

“Wanna kiss you again first,” he murmurs, pressing his lips on yours, your arms wrapped around his neck, eyelashes fluttering shut. “One more.”

You’re smiling as you pull back, hands slipping down his chest. “I love you, Satoru.”

“I love you, and I wanna fucking bend you over this sink,” you moan softly when he turns you, facing the mirror, his hands on either side, you feel his length pressing against the small of your back, making you heat up. “The last time I looked at you like this…”

“I know,” you look at his eyes, as he leans down, bent at the waist, a big hand splaying the expanse of your tummy under your breasts, palm warm, you lean back against him, feeling every bit of it. “That was an… intense night.”

“It was, there’s this mix of regretting acting that way, and wishing I got to drink all that up,” you barely hold back your desperate whine, he kisses down the side of your neck now, moaning softly in your ear. “Is that terrible?”

“No, it’s not, I feel the same - ah - we won’t make the date if you keep kissing me like this.” He chuckles, pulling back a bit, you’re dizzy from his presence from every sensation.

“Can’t control yourself?”

“Oh!” You turn and shove him playfully, all lit up so pretty for him, he can’t help but feel that tug of affection. “You’re smirking!”

“You’re just so adorable like this.” He kisses you again, before pulling back, eyeing your lipstick, picking the shade you have on. “Here, I’ll fix it.”

Satoru glides the lipstick over your mouth carefully, smiling down at his work, when you wipe the tint of it off his own lips, blushing when he nips at your thumb. “All better?”

“All better, but tonight…” he leans over you again, a wicked little smirk on his handsome face now. “I think I’d like to ruin your makeup. And not fix it.”

“Toru…” He tugs you against him, thigh pressing right where you’re already pulsing around nothing, you arch them, dying for more, it’s been so fucking long since you felt him.

“The tears will be from cumming too hard, too much, not from you being sad,” he whispers, pressing hungry kisses along your jaw line now, until his lips brush the shell of your ear. “Lipstick smeared from where you’ll suck my cock down that tight little throat, from your drool.”

“Fuck…” You’re damn near done for, yanking him down and rolling your hips, his big hands stop you. “Please…”

“After the date, what do you take me for!?”

“You’re ridiculous!” He snorts and you barely manage a cute little glare. “Teasing me, ugh!”

“You’re too cute, I can’t help it.” He fixes the little bobby pins in your hair that have fallen, you watch his adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows.

“Then you better take me out now, before we don’t get to the door.”

“You’re so slutty right now,” he’s grinning against your neck as you push at him, his arm wraps you tightly, lifting you up for a moment with one arm like it’s nothing. “Be a good girl for me.”

“I’m trying, mnh,” it’s impossible not to want him, when he’s literally just fucking carrying you with that one arm to the front door now. “I could get used to this too.”

“You’re going to be a very spoiled girlfriend, hmm?” You bury your face at that, as he chuckles, setting you down in front of your door. “You like that?”

“Yes, I do.” He grabs your jacket from the stand, slipping it over your shoulders now and holding out his hand.

“Then let’s go on a date.”

“Let’s go.”

*****

“If it isn’t Satoru Gojo!” A girl runs up as you and Satoru are seated at the rooftop restaurant he’s brought you to later, overlooking the beautiful skyline below, high up as the sun gently sets.

Everything is perfect about tonight, sitting across from him, the soft candlelight flickering with the wind just a bit, your hands joined as your knees gently brush. He looks at her then, raising a brow, and you tense across from him, remembering the last time you two had gone out to eat. The girl who was his former costar, and you can’t get mad about it, he’s probably just rather popular with his career.

“I haven’t seen you in so long, what a shame,” she says then, slinking on up, her fingers trail his shoulder, when he takes her hand, yanking it off him, narrowing his eyes. 

“I’m clearly on a date with my girlfriend,” his words make your heart race, while you’re nervously fiddling with your hands in your lap. She looks at you in surprise, as if she’d not acknowledged it to even be some possibility. “What did you need?”

“I just remembered having a really good time on set, and was curious if you were into it anymore, I do have my contact info if you-”

“You’re clearly not reading the room,” he cuts her off, and you’ve never seen this side of him. Usually shmoozing and grinning, putting on a bit of a show, this Satoru is far, far different from the last time this happened. He puts a hand on yours and smiles at you, saying your name softly.

“Oh… I didn’t see you there,” she says, nose in the air, you blink and Satoru glares now, his icy eyes fucking insane. “I’m Amber, was a friend of his.”

Her insinuation is clear, clear as Satoru’s jaw tensing.

“Nice to meet you, Amber.” You say, too friendly for Satoru’s liking, he raises a brow and you give him a look - you can’t be rude!?

“To answer you, no I don’t want your info, I’m not doing that now.”

“Ah, I did hear you were modeling, how’d you get into it?”

“Here,” he hands her a business card. “That’s my agent, but if you don’t mind I have a date to focus on.” Resigned, she walks off, and he tilts his head.

“What?”

“Why are you so nice? Should have scowled at her with me.”

“She just likes you, who wouldn’t,” he leans forward now, hand entwining with yours over the table. “You want me territorial?”

“It’d be hot.” You roll your eyes as he smirks.

“You’re crazy, but thank you for telling her um… I’m your girlfriend.” He kisses up your inner wrist, where the corsage sits now.

“Of course,” it doesn’t feel strong enough of a word really, for everything he feels for you, watching you across from him. “All right, so what character did you main?”

“You really were a nerd,” he chuckles, the sound so perfect to your ears then, while you both nibble on your appetizers. “I was a bard of course, and a fire genasi, you?”

“I can see it, I was absolutely a paladin.”

“What kind!”

“Dragonborne.”

“Oh, that fits.”

“What’s that mean, nerdy brat?” He teases, when you lean your chin on your hand, so fucking heartbreakingly pretty across from him it almost steals his breath away, it takes everything to remain calm.

You make him feel every bit the younger boy he was then, stuttering on his words, fumbling nervously on the inside, even though on the exterior he was so calm, so sure. That grin he gives you though? It’s not the practiced one, the sleazy Hollywood one, it’s genuine - it’s him.

Maybe that’s what always scared him.

“So, are we going to play together? I have a group you know,” you tease, poking at him when he just stares for a moment. “Planning a new character?”

“No, thinking how beautiful you are,” you blink a bit in surprise, leaning back with a little intake of breath, those earrings dangling and swaying, casting shadows along the delicate curve of your neck. His fingers trail along it, reaching up to toy with them now. “Too much?”

“No, not at all,” your hand touches his, holding it there as you study him across from you, his pretty pink lips parted, lashes lowering. “I think you’re beautiful too.”

“Of course-”

“Inside too, not just your face, or your body, or even just your eyes,” you stop him in his tracks, eyes burning with the emotions that you bring from your words. “Everything about you.”

“Shit,” he tugs you to him over the table, kissing you in front of everyone, you taste the sweetness of that moscato on his plush lips, sinking into the kiss. “You’re too sweet, I need to drink you.”

“Don’t say that here,mmm…” you pull back, covering your face, hearing his little chuckle. “You’re mean, never mind.”

“Hey, sorry, come back here,” you shake your head, then he stands up, walking over in front of you, making you look up at him. “So we both missed prom to roleplay then?”

“Mmhmm, a destined match.” He hums a bit, as you look around, seeing that some people are watching you both with curious smiles.

“Then let's dance like it is prom, a nerdy little dnd prom with just you and me.” He says softly, playful gleam in those pretty azure depths of his eyes, and your pulse races, nerves making you heat up.

“Dance, here?” You ask nervously, there is music playing, there’s a singer with a guitar, and there’s room to dance on this rooftop, but no one is.

“Yes, since we both were too busy in the dungeon for prom,” he teases, white grin flashing as the soft wind tousles his white locks. “We should dance here and now, together.”

“You’re so insane, but…” He’s standing now, holding out his hand, and you take it, a pretty smile on your face melting him ever further.

He leans low, murmuring in your ear when he tugs you up. “Good girl.”

“Oh, you know what that does.” You’re burying your face against his chest as he chuckles, hand on the small of your back.

“Too cute I can’t help it, c’mon sweetheart,” he tugs you now by your hands, and pulls you in his embrace while the music softly echoes, mixing with the pounding of your heart in your ears. He’s spinning you in a little pirouette, as the people around you smile and murmur your direction. “Look, they think you’re cute too.”

You stumble nervously, he catches you so swift, like it’s a second nature, and you can’t stop the big grin on your face - a lovesick one. One only for Satoru Gojo, one that’s been gone from your face for a long time now. He has one hand in yours, as he sways you along, the waitresses pass by and giggle, whispering how cute of a couple you are.

“You don’t mind if they know I’m your girlfriend?” You ask then, he frowns, shaking his head.

“I want everyone to know you’re my girlfriend.” You light up, and he realizes when he didn’t acknowledge it to be more before, it must have created more of an insecurity. “I wish I told everyone, especially that Nanami guy.”

“Oh goodness,” his glare shows he’s still very much not a fan, you rest your head on his chest, swaying now. “You know he’s doing OF with Jenna now?”

“What!?” You pull back a bit, nodding. “Do you just attract sex workers like a lamp for moths!?”

“Shh!” You look around at his loud ass voice, and he sighs, rolling his eyes. “I thought you’d be happy he’s occupied.”

“Mmm, whatever, I didn't like his ass.”

“I can tell!”

“Didn’t like how he looked at you,” he tilts your chin up, still swaying side to side now. “Only I can look at you like that.”

“Possessive Satoru, I kinda like that,” he rolls his eyes at your teasing little smile, spinning you again, the wine hits your bloodstream, making you deliciously dizzy. “Maybe I feel possessive too, a little.”

“I knew it, you were holding back.” He eyes the girl who’d interrupted your meal, smirking as he sees your cute little scowl. “No one can catch my eye, okay? It’s just you.”

You falter, almost tripping again in your heels that are just a bit too high, head falling back to look up at him. “Oh…”

“Don’t cry again, not yet,” he presses a kiss on your forehead, warm to the touch of his lips, while the breeze gently blows cool waves of air, making your dress fly up just a bit. “Of course you’re all I see.”

“I will cry again,” you warn, eyes glassy already, as the song ends, and he spins you once more, until your back is against his chest, and his arms are wrapped around you. “Thank you, Satoru.”

“Of course.” People clap around you quietly at your little dance, when he guides you back to the table, but this time he sits the chair right next to him, a hand on your thigh under the tablecloth. His eyes lock with yours when you bite at your lip, he tugs it from the grip of your teeth. “Only I should get to bite it.”

“Only you, hmm?” He nods, leaning close, when a waitress comes with your orders, and he gives you a quick kiss, starting to cut up your food without thinking about it. “Satoru, you're very thoughtful, you know.”

“It’s nothing, I hope you like this,” he slips a bite into your mouth, juicy and tender, your eyes flutter shut as it fills your taste buds. “What do you think?”

“It’s so good!” He smiles at that, feeding you another bite now, ever so carefully, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. “You’re spoiling me.”

“I haven’t spoiled you yet, not even close,” you sip your wine, scooching even closer, your legs crossed, his hand firm on one. “I think I’ll like having a girlfriend to spoil, take you shopping, make you dress up for me.”

“You don’t have to do all that, you know.” He frowns a bit at that.

“What if I want to, will you let me?” He brushes a tendril of hair back that the wind keeps sweeping forward, the sky is darkening, the purples and oranges fading, the sun set over the horizon now. The lighting just makes the angles of his face sharper, the glow of his skin prettier.

“I’ll let you do anything,” you clear your throat then, blushing. “Well that sounded freaky.”

“I know you’d let me do anything, sweetheart I haven’t even gotten started showing you things. That blush is so pretty.”

“Oh!” You cut up some of his food then, putting it in his mouth, he eagerly takes a bite off the fork. “Yes I’ll let you take me shopping.”

“Good girl.”

“Satoru!” His hand slips up higher, surrounded by lively people and music. You get so nervous, but more excited, when his thumb brushes a little circle along the inner part of one thigh.

“You really like that, hmm?” His words are practically a purr, you narrow your eyes, but he already sees them dilate. “Are you wet already?”

“Shh,” you panic, but he’s just chuckling, pulling his hand back just a bit so it’s at your knee. Still tense, your entire body is reacting to his every movement as he sits next to you. “So you had said you wanted to tell me a few things?”

“Yeah I did,” he sighs, taking a sip of his blush wine now. “For courage.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not ready for.” He loves that about you, the way you’ve never pushed him - even if you should have truly. He picks up your hand and presses a gentle kiss on the back of it.

“So I was indeed a nerd, so nerdy in fact I may have been a virgin in college still.” You nod just a bit.

“Nothing wrong with that, not at all.”

“Right, but I thought there was something wrong with that, wrong with me I guess,” you frown now, heart aching for him. “I didn’t embrace it like you.”

“That’s okay, I’ll bring nerdy Satoru back.” He scoffs playfully at that, still holding your hand, you sip your drink, studying him carefully.

“So I met this woman, she was older. Like thirty, and she was someone who I guess started really noticing me, like as a man and not a nerdy little boy. I became really enamored with her, obsessive I guess…” You nod, listening, but he pauses. “Will this be weird to hear? Another woman?”

“It’s your past, absolutely not. I want to know more.” You set down your glass, still holding his hand now. “Go ahead.”

Fuck he loves you.

He blinks snowy lashes, they cast little shadows against his eyelids when he stares back at the hand he’s holding. “She was a very famous pornstar, I assumed out of my league, but she wanted me. And I guess I got a high off of it, it’s probably where I started associating sex with affection? Fuck I feel like you’re my therapist.”

“We probably both need one after what we did to each other.” He grimaces, nodding now. “But go ahead, I want to know.”

“I lost my virginity on set,” his voice is very quiet, just a murmur, and your heart aches then. “Don’t feel sorry for me.”

“But that seems kind of insane? Especially really young?”

“I loved that shit, I was all about it.”

“Did you love it, or just love her?” He looks at you then, shaking his head.

“Whatever I thought I had, nothing has come close to what I feel for you,” your breath catches, when he brings your hand to his lips, kissing it again. “I know it wasn’t love.”

“But you may have thought so, like I did with my ex,” he nods then. “I know now that it wasn't anything like this.”

“It wasn’t, but I suppose I was infatuated. We did this scene and I became some fucking sensation overnight, all my plans to do physics were changed when I realized that I could make millions fucking my girlfriend.”

“You wanted to do physics?”

He smiles then. “That’s what you heard?”

“Yes, that’s insanely difficult. And very interesting.”

“My parents pushed me into it, and I was good at it, I was top of my class at UCLA and all that shit. I don’t know, something about doing porn instead really made me feel rebellious or something.”

“It’s understandable.”

“You have not a single rebellious bone in your pretty body,” he leans low, fingers entwining now. “It’d be hot if you were bratty for me though.”

“Would it be?” You lean closer, necklace tantalizing him against your collar bone as it gently moves.

“Fuck yes it would be.”

“You’re distracting from the topic,” he pouts, even as you press him. “You lost it on set, and you enjoyed it?”

He leans back now, long lanky legs spread, brushing against your own. “Yeah, I did enjoy it, I guess. We got heavy into the industry, but of course she was with other people. It was her job.”

“But that hurt you.”

“Yeah, the shit hurt me. I was jealous a lot," he eyes you then. “I guess how you felt when you saw me doing that video.”

“It did make me unreasonably jealous,” you admit softly. “But I knew it was your career.”

“Yeah, I did too. I started doing my own shoots, I eclipsed her in fame, and she wanted to retire. But, I didn’t. She mentioned how much I changed, but she didn’t realize she changed me.” You blink back emotions, thinking of how a younger Satoru must have been, a sweet physics major, shy and nervous. The thoughts melt you and hurt you simultaneously.

“Deep down, you’re still just you.” He looks down at his glass, as a waitress comes and refills each of your wine glasses up. His fingers brush up the stem of it carefully.

“I almost did that to you, what she did to me.”

“You did not-”

“Yes, yes I did.” He cuts you off now, and you shake your head. “I didn’t accomplish it, or mean to do it, but just how I got into the industry for her, you were willing to for me. You just had enough sense to catch yourself. I got too into the lifestyle.”

“It was ultimately my choice, and I’m not in college and completely innocent here.”

“Damn near were, and not much older than I was. You can disagree, but I saw myself doing it, and couldn’t stop. I was so selfish for you.”

“And I was for you,” you lean closer, impossibly closer, the two of you damn near snuggled on that rooftop, a hand resting on his forearm over the soft material of his suit jacket. “Maybe being in love makes you dumb and selfish, and both of us really were.”

“You weren’t -”

“I was,” your turn to cut him off, he disagrees and opens his lips for you to put a finger against them. “Don’t take all the blame here, when we both were really bad at admitting things, expressing ourselves.”

“You stop taking so much blame then,” his words are quiet, meant for only your ears when he cups your face, thumb brushing your overheated cheek. “You are still a good girl, what you did doesn’t change that, okay?”

“I know that, and I got a bit of a rush from it, like you mentioned, not from them seeing me, but for when you called me your star.” He kisses you then, hungry and desperate, a kiss that should be in privacy, but he can’t stop it.

“You are,” he whispers, you whine into his lips when he barely has the ability to pull back. “Check?”

“Check.”

*****

The drive back is a blur, when Satoru damn near carries you out of the car, a stumbling mess of kisses until you’re in the elevator, heading up to his penthouse. He’s got you lifted like it’s nothing, pinning you against the wall, after the drive was nothing but torturous touches, caresses, kisses. The need in both of you is so intense it’s impossible to breathe.

The moment you walk into Satoru’s penthouse, he turns and presses you against the door, cupping your chin and slamming his lips on yours. You meet his kisses with desperate, needy ones of your own, your purse falling to the floor right along with the jacket he slips off your shoulders. You’re trembling when he presses hungry kisses along your now bare shoulders.

“Satoru,” you’re whispering his name, just like a needy little plea, when he unzips your dress ever so carefully, the cool metal against your overheated skin. “Mnh!”

“If you want me to stop, tell me now sweetheart,” he whispers, exposing the expanse of your back when the dress spills, breasts gripped in each of his hands, your head falls back as he squishes them in his grip. “If you don’t want this yet…”

“I want it, I want all of you.” He moans and kisses you again, one hand staying on your breast, the other tugging that dress down your hips.

“I need you sure, I can wait,” he whispers, you step out of the dress that’s around your ankles now, still in your heels, making you just a little taller, enough where he can easily touch your cunt bending down just a bit, you whine out at the contact. “I’ll wait forever for you.”

You blink back tears at that, looking up at him with lidded eyes, one of his hands now entwines with yours over the cool, slick white paint of the door, the other touching your cunt over your panties. You bite back a moan, a mix of love and desire, emotions and need, looking up into his brilliant blue eyes, dark and dilated in the dim lights of his living room.

“I’ve waited so long, for you to be back in my life,” you say then, sniffling back just a bit of tears, he pauses his touches, for you to put his hand back, looking at him under your lashes. “I want you in me, on me, with me. Please.”

“I’ll give you anything,” he kisses you again, you move his finger under your panties, earning the slick spilling down both your fingers. “Fuck you’re so wet f’me, so ready aren’t you? For me to cum inside you?”

“Y-yes, please, please - ah!” Satoru’s fingers slip inside, now your own slick ones grip his wrist as they pump. Your eyes roll back, mouth open in a desperate cry when he curls them just so in your spot, the one only he knows, exhaling as he feels your gummy walls tighten.

“There it is, did you miss me sweetheart?” He asks softly, cocky and arrogant, but you fucking love it, you nod eagerly, earning a turn of his plump lips. “Show me how much you missed it, let me feel her cum f’me.”

He’s working them faster, in that maddening fucking rythm he knows you can’t handle, you tighten up then. “T-too much!”

“No honey, don’t tighten up, already too fucking tight, let go,” his whispers urge you on, spreading your thighs and exhaling. “That’s it, that’s my good girl.”

“F-fuck!” You’re arching for more, bare ass pressed against his thighs, his cock leaks precum through his boxers, against his slacks, as he feels your muscles contract, your walls quiver. “M’gonna - ngh, Satoru…”

“That’s it, give me it, please baby,” he’s whiny and desperate even as he controls you, with those long fingers shoved so deep, and you shatter for him. You’re gushing as the orgasm hits you, rocking your entire body, you’re trembling and whimpering when the pleasure shoots everywhere, and he slips his fingers out with a pop. “Fuck, you did so good.”

He turns you now, you’re wobbling, he has to hold you firm, slipping his fingertips coated in your arousal across your lips. “Mnh… can’t stand…”

“I’ve got you, god just look at you,” he worships your body while your tongue laps that slick off, hands gently grazing your breasts, you eagerly shove off his jacket, he loosens that black tie, kissing you again, holding you steady while you threaten to fall on your own damn heels. “Need to drink you up.”

He’s slipped your panties down then, a soaked fucking mess, before slipping a thigh over his shoulders, looking up at you under snowy lashes, running a thumb down your slit. You’re shaking, head falling back and smacking the door. “Ow!”

He chuckles, and you giggle, his breath ghosting your inner thigh then. “You better not get a concussion on the night I get to taste you again, clumsy little thing.”

“I can’t hold steady - ah! Oh my god,” he kisses your hood now, lips right above your hood, your fingers slip through his silky strands, hips arching. “I missed that so much.”

“I will eat you out all you want tonight,” he smirks then, tongue flicking up your slit, you clench around nothing while he collects the pooled arousal around your little hole, making you gasp in pleasure. “I’ll eat my cum out of you too, over and over.”

“Please,” you’re tugging his teasing mouth closer, his tongue going in the slowest circles, all while you can hardly see, still blinking fuzz from your orgasm. “Oh!”

“Go ahead, don’t be shy, use me baby,” his words end you, that desperate look his pretty face has on it, the way he tugs you closer, a hand firm on your ass. “Use me all you want, fuck out all those frustrations on m’face, huh?”

“Ngh…” You tug him against you firmly then, cunt spasming around his long pink tongue, his nose bumps your twitchy clit, already sensitive from his fingers, and you do just that.

Your hips arch and roll, riding his pretty face as much as you want, as much as you’ve craved and missed, six months without him worshipping you on his knees. And it’s what he’s doing, in between filthy words and sweet ones, praising and teasing, torturing and giving. His mouth whispers how much he wants this, even as you suffocate him with your cunt.

“That’s it, keep fucking my face,” he whispers, and you’re lost to him, he’s pinned your hips firmly, as you barely hold yourself up on one leg, tongue lavishing inside your hole, between your folds, when you tense, tightening again. “No, let go, now. Let me drink it all, baby.”

You’re done again with one practiced flick of Satoru Gojo’s tongue, this time more intense, the way he sucks your clit into his mouth pushes you over that edge again, watching from on his knees as you cum for him. You’re hoarsely crying out his name as he palms his erection, straining and aching to be inside you. “Satoru, please.”

“Need more?” He teases, letting you go with a pop of his lips, while you’re still gasping for air, and he’s just smiling up at you the way he does, licking his glossy lips. “Mm, so sweet.”

“Need you inside me, now…” You tug at his silky hair now, he eases a thigh down, pressing more kisses on it. You’re flushed as he stands up, your legs giving out damn near, but he’s got you, wrapping an arm around your hips as your fingers flit to his belt.

“That needy, that eager baby?” He teases, a flash of a grin, but when his cock springs free he whimpers, clear as day, that sound you fucking miss so badly. “Fuck…” He trails off as you free him, stroking his pretty length, you run your thumb over the tip of him as he unbuttons his shirt, lapping up his precum, making his cock thicken. “You have to be this fucking sexy?”

“I missed your taste,” you tease softly, earning his moan when he quickly gets naked, filling your gaze with the perfect body, your fingers trail over his abdomen before he stops them, pressing your wrists against the wall. “Let me touch you.

“No, I can’t handle it,” he’s hoarse against your ear as he leans down, lips brushing the shell of it. “I’ll cum in your pretty little hand, and embarrass myself.”

“No, I’d just make you cum again, in my mouth,” you whisper back in his ear, so bold like he’s never heard you, your fingers pressing against his strong back now. “Then inside me.”

“Fuck me,” he grumbles,  you’re giggling but it’s halted when he lifts you like you’re nothing, and you cling to him, gasping. He chuckles, the sound warm against your skin, and he’s kissing your neck, his cock nudging against you, hard and demanding at your soppy entrance. “You’re talking a lot for a girl who just drooled.”

“What now,” he grins as he pulls back, and you feel the stretch, but he just holds it there. “Toru, please, stop teasing.”

“You’re too pretty not to tease,” he leans low, kissing your lips, eyes locking with yours, your thighs pressing on his narrow hips, your heat just burning against his sensitive tip. He swallows, emotions present he never acknowledged before, but he can’t hold back anymore, as he whispers your name. “God I’ve missed your taste, your scent, your sweet little cries, all of it. All of you.”

“I missed all of you, Satoru - mnh!” He presses in then, head resting on yours, you taste yourself on the breath that ghosts your swollen lips, when he starts stretching you out. “Oh f-fuck, m-missed everything.”

“I missed being gripped like this,” he whispers, pulling back and slipping further, she’s stretching to accommodate him, your whines filling his ears, his mind, as your heels press against his back, the sight so fucking filthy - him fucking you on his door - everything he’d dreamed of for so long. “I missed your pretty face.”

“Oh my god I… you…” You’re a mess, tears falling in pleasure and love, while you feel Satoru giving himself to you, the vulnerability, the sweet pressure deeper and deeper inside you. “M-missed yours, missed your voice, missed you.”

“I missed you, every fucking day,” he takes a shaky breath, shoving his thick cock deeper now, blue eyes so dark and glittery with his tears, while he fills you so deep you feel him fucking everywhere. “I never, ever want you to leave again. Say it,” he shoves his cock fully then, you gasp at it. “Say it, please.”

“Never again,” your answer ends him, he’s desperate now, no longer gentle once he knows you can take him, he’s pushing your back against that door, his mouth claiming yours again, his tongue dripping saliva and the lingering taste of your cunt along his mouth, mixed with him. “Mnh!”

“Fuck,” he’s lost in you now, and everything gets fucking heady, you’re dizzy, his thrusts and kisses are just like a drug, intoxicating and fucking addictive. You’re lost in his kiss, his scent, his touch, just Satoru Gojo. While his huge hands slip down to your ass, he is lifting you up and dragging you down fully on him. “Got you so fucking full, don’t I?”

You’re nodding, helpless, as he bottoms out as much as he can, and your cunt is dripping down his length, down his balls and your ass, which smack with filthy noises, heavy and ready to bust inside your eager little hole. His teeth sink into your neck as he lifts you, uses you, shoving you harder and harder until your lower back bruises, until your head smacks the door again.

You wrap your legs around his waist tighter, while his cock is thrusting inside your ready, slick heat, making you bite your lip so hard it almost bleeds. He pulls back and brushes his thumb on it, sighing as it smears red like your lipstick. “Don’t hold back, lemme fucking hear every cry, every moan, every scream.”

“Ah!” You do just that, screaming when he’s got his tip grinding on your cervix, you’re desperately struggling to take him all, the pressure so intense in your core. “So big, fuck you’re so big.”

“You can take me, cunt is made f’me, only me,” he’s lost now, in all of you invading every sense he has, as he works you. “Say it.”

“Made for you,” you whisper, ruining him, your fingers feeling the heat and muscle of his strong body as he pumps inside you, his hands roaming your body with a familiarity that no one could ever have. The way he touches you, the way he knows you, like he’s meant for you.

“Only me.”

“Only you, m-meant for you.”

Your words make him pause, even as he’s losing control, pulling back from the process of leaving a trail of kisses down your neck, a growing bruise making his instincts to keep you forever flare. His lips are parted, fucked out as you are, as he pauses with his cock buried as fully as he can get it. He swallows and brushes back your hair then, falling pins still clattering to the floor.

“Meant for me,” he repeats softly, then picks you up further, firmly inside of you, slamming you down like some doll in the air. You scream out, clinging tighter as he turns with you, effortlessly. “You are meant for me.”

“For you.” He moans and kisses you again, carrying you until you’re laid on just a section of his very fancy suede couch, soft under your skin as he lays you down, tugging the rest of your hair out.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, watching it fall across one of the little gold decorative pillows, splayed underneath you so pretty. Even with his cock inside you, still getting gripped by your walls, he can’t help but be lost in your beauty. “Perfect.”

“No…” he grips your chin, shaking his head then, and you feel it, you’re perfect for Satoru.

“You are perfect,” he murmurs, slowly entering you this time, lifting your thigh until it’s high over the back of the couch, kissing up your calf now, sinking deeper and watching your head fall back, your tits jiggle as your back arches. “Perfect for me, aren’t you?”

You nod eagerly, earning his pleased moan as he lets you adjust again only to press your leg over his shoulder, leaning forward, you’re stuffed so full he can see it, the sight almost ending him. You’re gasping and wriggling at just how full he has you, his tip leaking precum right against that cervix, a hand splaying your stomach, feeling how his cock moves in your body.

“Look at that, too big for you, hmm?” He’s taunting now, that feral energy tinged with an aching sweetness, you barely manage to gasp when he slams hard inside you now. “Can’t talk, baby?”

You can only helplessly whine out his name, as he fucks you again, harder this time, hips slamming into you, you feel him stretching you wide open, pushing you further than you can think, while your cunt clenches around him. He moans when your  juices gush out, making a mess of him, the little silvery white trail under his flat belly button already coated in you.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, so tight, god,” he groans out as he watches you, the way your tits jiggle more and more with every mean stroke, the way your face contorts in pleasure, that mouth in that perfect O, your brows furrowing. All while with fuzzy vision you study him, his jaw clenched, his muscles straining, sweat dripping from his skin onto yours.

“You’re s-so deep,” you whine out, he groans and leans forward, pressing into you so hard you cry out. “Toru!”

“I can’t hold back, can you take me baby?”

You want to demand how this is holding back, then remember filthy fucking nights. You blush, nodding then, and he exhales, slamming your cunt so hard you’re both a mess. You want it all, his desperate needy strokes, the way he grips you so tight you bruise - you want it, his marks, his thrusts, all while he’s pushing you over the edge, another orgasm about to end you, make you fucking delirious.

Need built for months and months, both of you drowning in it, as it consumes you, and he’s whispering your name over and over. “You need to cum, don’t you sweetheart?” You just nod, helpless, your throat so tight when he leans back, rolling his hips just so. “Then cum, lemme feel her.

Your nails are digging into his shoulders, leaving crescents in his pale skin, and he hisses at the pain, wanting more of it, fucking you harder, faster, skin smacking and squelching wetness loud and filthy. “Close, m’so close I - ah!” You’re damn near sobbing the words, this time your tears are from how much you want him, so they just make him harder, pulsing inside you.

“Cum for me then, let me feel how much you’ve missed me sweetheart, let go, you can do it,” he’s urging you when he rolls them again, dragging your spot just right, and you shatter around him. “That’s it, f-fuck, that’s it baby…”

Your pussy is clamping down like a vise on his cock, milking him for all that cum you so desperately want poured into you then, he whimpers at it, at how close you have him as your pleasure hits you. He holds back, just watching, swallowing nervously as he sees your drool spill down your smeared lipstick, sees your eyes fluttering shut and trying to focus on him.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispers, just for you to tremble, thighs shaking as you feel him. “Do you want all this cum inside you?”

“Please,” he moans now, leaking more and more from his pink tip stuffed in your hole. “W-want it.”

“Want me to breed your perfect little cunt?” Satoru loses it then, seeing your eyes light up, confusion and curiosity mixing together, biting your lower lip. “Don't know what that is, sweet girl?”

You shake your head, he leans low now, lifting your thigh higher, stretching you out. Your head falls back when he grips your face between his hands, exhaling. “What is it?”

“Fuck babies into you, hmm?” You gasp, heating up then, blushing furiously, he chuckles softly. “You're so precious.”

“Y-you wanna put… babies in me?” You're a mess then, the thoughts wrecking you, he groans, breath against your lips.

“So many, so much cum inside you, keep you forever,” his words fuck everything up more and more. “Have you round with me, tits so full.”

“Satoru!” You're close again, he smirks, leaning up, jerking his hips to slam inside you again, you cling to him, whining. 

“You like that idea, don't you baby?” You nod, the images overwhelming as his lips hover. “Should I breed your pretty cunt?”

“Yes, I want it, I want you -mnh!” He slams his lips against yours, groaning deep into them, his cock pulsing as he fills you up with his hot cum, so much it's flooding you with warmth.

“Fuck, sweetheart, taking it all aren't you?” He whispers, whining out as you cup his face with your hands, kissing him over and over, while he pumps more and more. “Perfect, slutty little hole, only wants to be filled by me.”

“Only you.” You gasp as he pumps more, and for a moment, you just look at each other, breathing heavily, hearts racing. His thrumming under your palm, his chest slick with sweat. He kisses your palm, rocking inside you again, watching your eyes roll back as his cum slips down between you two.

“I fucking love you,” You blink back tears, as he cups your face, brow resting on yours while he takes a breath. “I have loved you since I met you. I just wish I said it sooner, baby.”

“I love you, so much Satoru, since I saw you across that party,” tears slip out of the corner of your eye, his own fall, as he takes in how precious you are. “I want this forever.”

“So do I.” He's kissing you over and over, he's finally taken your heels off, starting a hot shower and carrying you like a little princess in his arms. You can't help but fall further, every second in his arms.

“I never thought I'd have this again,” you trail off, under the hot spray of water  while Satoru washes your hair gently. “It's even better than before, when I held back.”

“Me too,” he rinses your hair out, exhaling as he kisses across your neck. “You’re always my little star.”

His words destroy you, body relaxed under the shower now tensing with need, as you look up at him, water droplets trailing along his hard body, his pretty face. “Satoru did you um… keep a copy? For you?”

He chuckles then, kissing your neck and shaking his head. “I felt so terrible, no. I regret not being able to see it but it didn't feel right.”

You turn in his arms, cupping his face gently. Leaning up, you kiss his lips, water dripping across your bodies. “I could have handled that better.”

“You didn't handle that in any way but how you needed to, it's okay. Why do you ask?” You blush even under the hot water and he smiles a bit. “Do you want to make a private video?”

“Yes, but only us, just for us,” he moans at that, exhaling as you press a kiss on his throat. “I liked being your star, I just only want your eyes on me.”

“And I want to be the only one that ever sees you, just me,” he whispers, the hot rushing waterfall above being blocked by his broad shoulders as he holds you. “When you’re ready, we’ll get a whole plot for it. And costumes.”

“Costumes!” He grins now.

“Yes, costumes. Fuck I’d love to dress you up, too,” you heat up at the suggestion. “Little nurse costume, a sexy teacher.”

“Would you be my student?”

“Mmm, I’d be the worst one,” you’re kissing again, so happy it’s terrifying, after months and months of heartache. You’re quiet in his arms later, as he holds you against him, the soft satin of his pillow against your cheek. “What are you thinking, hmm?”

“I’m scared,” you admit softly, he sighs and leans over, cupping your face delicately and studying you in the night. “That this will all just end, and I’ll go back to being so sad and alone.”

“I know what you mean,” he admits. You blink back tears now, studying the man you love. “I was afraid you wouldn’t even go out with me today, then more afraid I’d some how fuck it all up.”

“No, everything was just perfect, and you couldn’t. I just want to be around you, Satoru, only you,” he exhales and kisses you again, the fear of losing him once more slowly subsiding with each press of his lips, each gentle touch that builds to more and more. “I love you.”

“I love you, sweetheart. Pretty little star,” he kisses you heavier now, as you’re turned in his arms, tugging you closer against him as you straddle him, heat pressed against his cock. “My star.”

“All yours, ah, I’m sore,” you admit softly, when he’s grinding his cock on you, he smiles a bit, watching your face flush while you arch your back. “It’s been too long.”

“Didn't you touch yourself to me?” He taunts, but you shake your head.

“Not because I didn’t want you, I did, I was um… just so sad.” He exhales, hands slipping down your waist, rustling the silky blankets.

“I won’t let you go without me again.” You fall into him once more, his gentle guiding of you as you ride his cock, shoved so deep, it’s intimate, the way your hands rest on his chest, the slow strokes. So intimate you feel ever closer, ever more in love with every look, touch, kiss and sigh.

His cock is stretching you again, but his thrusts are easy, letting you have the control, letting you take what you want, what you need. You cum again and again, almost passing out from the pleasure, from your sore cunt contracting around his thick cock. When he fills you again - with impossibly more of his cum - you’re crying from how good it feels, how close you feel to him.

When you’re exhausted, and he’s already taken care to clean you up again, and make sure you have water, he’s brushing your hair back, watching you fall asleep. And one thing keeps resounding in his mind - that he doesn’t want you to go home, that he just wants you in his arms forever.

“I wonder if we could get a place together, just you and me,” he whispers, but you’re already snoring. Satoru smiles against your soft hair. “I’ll keep practicing for when you’re awake.”

I'm a little emotional ending this one, these two stressed me out but I love them very much. Hope you all enjoyeddd!

Kofi link if you wanna buy me a glass of wine 🍷

Taglist 1 - @juicu @kalulakunundrum @gojoswaterbottle @aldebrana @simp-plague @wedojustbevibin @lucciferr0 @officialholyagua @privthemis @coffee-and-geto @homesickes @msniks @emi311 @mai-505 @ren-ren23 @yihona-san06 @emochosoluvr @sylvermoon @bunheadusa @karvokr @starmapz @queenexplosonmurderr @musiclover2119 @saitamaswifey @reagan707 @midorissi @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @itsinherited @maisiefrancesca @gyarubunny @theonlyhonoredone @chosslut @simperisksksk @xlilycoco @howlsdarling @femaholicc @maymaymarch @miseryyouth-99 @swoozleee @zeunys @cryingdevil @leafynightmares @princess-bblgm @gojosconsort @insomnicshello @joonunivrs @myahfig4 @silviscosplay @iluvjjkmennn @nutellajade

[bsturnzmtts]

Off limits p. 1 - Matt Sturniolo

Pairing: older sisters bf!Matt x innocent!reader

Summary: You’ve always had a small crush on your sister’s boyfriend. But you never acted on it, not until this summer, after you found out some things that changed everything.

Warnings: long plot?, cheating (I don’t condone cheating this is all fiction), teasing, age gap (Matt is 22 reader 18), virgin!reader, oral, lowkey mean!sister, kissing, first orgasm, fingering, pet names, almost caught.

A/n: idk why this took to long sorryy, I hope you guys like it! There will be a part 2! Maybe a bit more spicy…

Word count: 4209

You’ve always had a small crush on Matt Sturniolo. Not in a serious way, just one of those quiet, innocent feelings you keep to yourself. He’s your sister’s boyfriend, after all. Off limits. But still, he’s the only one who’s ever really paid attention to you. He remembers the little things, asks how your day is going, actually listens. Your sister barely does any of that. She’s distant, cold, always annoyed, with you, with him, with everything. So yeah, maybe deep down, you wished Matt was yours.

You’re heading to the cabin early just you, your sister, and Matt. Your parents won’t be arriving for a few more days, so it’ll just be the three of you for a while. It’s supposed to be a relaxing start to summer, until you find out something you weren’t supposed to.

A few nights before the trip, you overheard your sister on the phone where she mentioned she cheated on Matt. She doesn’t know you heard. And Matt still has no clue. Since then, you haven’t been able to act the same around Matt. Everything feels different and confusing.

Later

The cabin is quiet, the only sounds coming from the chirping birds outside and the gentle rustling of leaves. You're sitting on the porch swing, watching Matt carry in the last of the bags from the car. He looks up and catches your eye, giving you a warm smile that makes your heart flutter.

Matt walks over to you, and sets down the bags. "Hey," he says softly, sitting down next to you on the swing. "You okay? You've been quiet since we got here." He nudges your shoulder gently with his own.

Your sister walks out onto the porch just then, overhearing Matt's question to you. She rolls her eyes and interrupts before you can answer. "She's fine, she's always quiet, Matt. Get used to it."

Matt looks between you and your sister, a faint frown on his face. He seems a bit taken aback by her dismissive tone.

“Yeah… yeah I’m fine, just a bit car sick.” You try to brush it off, not wanting to cause any tension. “I’ll go set up my room” You stand up and leave.

You head inside, the cabin still smells like old wood and summer air. You walk down the short hallway to the room you always stay in.

You set your bag down on the bed and sink into the mattress, letting out a slow breath.

You’re not even sure why you lied. You’re not car sick. You just can’t look Matt in the eyes right now.

Not when you know what you know.

Not when he’s still smiling at your sister like she deserves him.

After a few hours, you get hungry and decide to head to the kitchen.

You open your door quietly, stepping into the hallway.

Just as you do, Matt walks out of the bathroom, fresh from the shower, hair damp, a towel slung low around his hips. You freeze mid-step.

He notices you and pauses, a little surprised. “Hey,” he says, a small smile on his face.

Matt's towel is wrapped around his waist, but beads of water are still dripping down his chest and abs. He runs a hand through his wet hair, leaving it slightly messy.

Your heart races as you take in the sight of him. The way the towel barely covers his hips, the muscles of his chest and arms on full display. You feel a warmth spread through your body, a feeling you've never experienced before. You swallow hard, trying to find your voice.

"Uh..." You stammer, your face turning red. You quickly avert your eyes, not wanting him to see the sudden flush on your cheeks or the way your heart is pounding in your chest. "I was just gonna get something to eat."

Matt chuckles softly, seeming to find your reaction adorable. "Help yourself," he says, continuing to walk down the hall towards the bedroom he shares with your sister.

As he walks away, you can't help but steal one last glance at his back and the way the towel hangs low on his hips. You let out a shaky breath and quickly make your way to the kitchen, your mind racing with thoughts you shouldn't be having about your sister's boyfriend.

You grab a soda from the fridge and some chips from the cabinet, trying to focus on anything other than the image of Matt half-naked. You sit down at the kitchen table, taking a big gulp of your soda. Suddenly, you hear some screaming from the bedroom.

The screaming is followed by loud arguing voices - your sister's high-pitched shrill and Matt's deep, frustrated tone. You tense up, recognizing the signs of another one of their fights. This has been happening more frequently lately.

You sit there for a few minutes, listening to the argument escalate. Suddenly, there's silence. And Matt comes out of the bedroom, now dressed, with a pillow in his hand and shuts the door behind.

He sees you sitting at the table and pauses briefly before walking over to the couch. He throws himself down on it, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"You okay?" You ask softly, genuinely concerned. The argument was loud and intense. Matt looks over at you, his expression tired and annoyed. "I'm fine," he snaps, but there's no real anger in his voice, just frustration. He lays back on the couch, staring at the ceiling.

You hesitate for a moment before getting up from your chair and walking over to him. ”You can have these.” You say softly as you leave the chips on the coffee table. “I’ll go get you a blanket”

Matt's expression softens slightly as you hand him the chips and offer to get him a blanket. "Thanks..." he murmurs, seemingly caught off guard by your kindness. He's touched by your thoughtful gesture, especially after the fight he just had with your sister. As you return with the blanket, he sits up and takes it from you, he lets out a heavy sigh. "You shouldn't hear all that shit," he adds quietly, as if realizing you probably caught most of their argument.

You shrug, trying to downplay it. "It's fine…I'm used to it," you admit quietly, looking down. "You two fight a lot lately." You bite your lip, debating whether to say more, but you decide not to. “Goodnight” you softly mumble as you head to your room.

Matt nods slowly, taking in your words. He knows their relationship has been strained, but he didn't realize it was that noticeable. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it again, seeming to think better of it. Instead, he just nods slightly. "Goodnight," he replies softly, watching as you head to your room.

The next morning, Matt is already awake and sitting at the kitchen table when you come downstairs. He's drinking coffee and scrolling on his phone, but he looks up as you enter. "Morning," he says, his voice a bit gruff from sleep but carrying a warmth that wasn't there yesterday.

You pour yourself a cup of coffee and sit down across from him, trying to act casual. "Morning," you reply softly, taking a sip. The tension from last night seems to have dissipated, but there's still an underlying awkwardness between you both. “Where’s my sister?”

"She left early," Matt answers briefly, running a hand through his messy hair. "Had some errands to run." He avoids your gaze, focusing on his phone instead. There's a pause before he adds, "She won't be back till late." Another silence falls between you two.

You nod, taking another sip of your coffee. The house feels oddly quiet without your sister around, and the tension with Matt is making the atmosphere even more uncomfortable. You set your mug down and fidget with the hem of your shirt, debating whether to say something to break the ice. "So..."

"Mm?" Matt lifts his head up to look at you, those deep blue eyes meeting yours.

"Nothing," you say quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly at the sudden eye contact. You look away, feeling self-conscious. "I was just going to... ask something stupid."

Matt raises an eyebrow but smiles slightly, leaning back in his chair. "Ask something stupid then," he says teasingly, trying to lighten the mood. His expression is more relaxed than it has been since last night.

"Um... nevermind," you laugh softly, feeling embarrassed. You stand up suddenly, grabbing your coffee mug. "I'm gonna go..." You trail off, heading towards the living room before you can say something even stupider.

Matt watches you go, a small smile still playing on his lips. He shakes his head slightly, amused by your flustered reaction. After a moment, he gets up from the table and follows you into the living room. "You know what?" he says as he leans against the doorway.

You turn to face him, holding your coffee mug tightly. "Hmm?" you a, your voice slightly shaky. He looks handsome standing there in his worn-out t-shirt and sweatpants, his hair messy from sleep. You quickly avert your gaze, focusing on your mug instead.

"You get really shy all of a sudden," Matt remarks softly, observing your body language. He's starting to realize that you hardly maintain eye contact, like you're nervous around him. “And you’ve been acting a bit weird around me lately.”

"Have I?" you ask quietly, taking a small sip of your coffee to avoid answering immediately.

"Yeah..." Matt observes your facial expressions carefully. He's starting to wonder if he imagined the fact that you used to laugh and joke around with him easily. Now you barely look at him or talk to him much. "Did I... do something to make you act like this?"

You shake your head quickly, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. "No," you say softly. "You didn't do anything wrong." You finally look up at him briefly before glancing away again.

Matt notices your quick glance and the slight blush on your cheeks. He's starting to piece things together but wants to hear it from you directly. "Then why are you acting like this?" he asks gently, taking a step closer. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

You bite your lip, feeling your heart race as he steps closer. You can feel the heat radiating off of his body. You don’t know if you should snitch on your sister and tell him the truth, or just stay quiet about her cheating.

"Listen..." gentle but carrying a hint of frustration. "If it’s about your sister cheating on me… i already know.”

You freeze slightly, then relax. "So..." you say carefully, testing the waters. "You know?" You try to keep your voice steady, like you're not curious about whether he's heartbroken or not.

"Yeah," Matt confirms briefly, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He watches your reaction carefully. "I’m not blind or dumb you know.” He lets out a small chuckle.

"Does she… know you know?" You ask softly, your curiosity getting the better of you. You set your coffee mug down on the side table, turning to face him fully. You can't help but notice how calm he seems about the whole thing.

"No, she doesn’t," Matt replies, his gaze lingering on your face. "I’ve been pretending like everything's normal between us. But to be honest... I'm tired of it. I'm tired of her lies and secrets. Plus she loves arguing with me about nothing literally, I’ll just let her be. I'm not gonna chase after her this time.”

You notice a hint of relief in his voice, and you can't help but feel a little lighter knowing he's not heartbroken over her. "I... didn’t know if I should’ve told you, I didn’t want to snitch on my sister. I’m sorry.”

Matt smiles slightly, finding your innocence cute. "You don't need to apologize," he says gently. “I know you knew about it too,” Matt says suddenly, catching you off guard “I saw how you were acting around me lately… like something was bothering you.”

"You could tell?" You ask softly, feeling a bit embarrassed that he noticed your unusual behavior.

"Yeah," he says with a small smile, taking another step closer to you. "You've been avoiding eye contact, hardly talking to me... pretty obvious actually." His eyes meet yours intensely, holding your gaze just a little longer than usual. "I mean, we always had a good relationship."

"Yeah," you agree quietly, your heart beating a bit faster as he steps closer.

Matt's smile widens slightly as he sees your reaction. He decides to take another step forward, closing the gap between you two. "You know..." he continues softly, his voice carrying a tone that makes you feel slightly nervous and flustered. “We could make our relationship even better… while she’s out.” He says, looking at your lips briefly before meeting your eyes again.

"But..." you stammer slightly, feeling your face flush. His closeness is making it hard to think straight. "You..." you try to form a coherent sentence but your voice comes out quieter than intended. "You’re my sister's boyfriend…”

"I know…" he murmurs softly, his presence almost deliberately invading your personal space. His hand gently finds its way to lean against the wall behind you, effectively trapping you there gently but intentionally. "But she cheated on me." He adds with a hint of a teasing smirk, his eyes searching yours.

"Yeah… I know," you whisper softly, trying to keep your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach. Your eyes flicker down to his lips briefly before meeting his gaze again. "But..." you hesitate, feeling torn between guilt and desire. “You’re still my sister’s boyfriend…”

Matt's smirk grows wider, understanding your internal struggle. He leans in just a fraction closer, his breath mingling with yours. "Yet you still have a crush on me," he whispers, his lips almost brushing against your ear as he speaks.

You blush deeply, feeling heat spread across your cheeks. "I..." you try to deny it but the words catch in your throat. You look up into his eyes, seeing the desire mirrored there. "How do you know?," you a softly, your voice barely audible.

He pulls back slightly to look into your eyes directly, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. "Because I've seen the way you look at me," he says honestly, his thumb lightly brushing over your bottom lip. "The way you blush when I'm around..." He chuckles gently remembering how nervous you always get. “How flustered you got yesterday when you saw me walk out of the shower.”

Your face turns beet red at the memory of seeing Matt half naked, his muscular body dripping with water. You can't help but get more nervous as he continues to tease you, his thumb pressing softly against your lips. "You..." You swallow hard, his thumb still on your lip making it difficult to speak. "You can't... You can't just say stuff like that." Your voice comes out breathy and weak.

Matt laughs softly, finding your innocence adorable. "You always get like this” He muses, realizing how innocent you really are. "Have you…kissed before?”

You hesitate before shaking your head softly, your eyes flickering down to his lips briefly. "Never," you admit quietly, your voice barely audible. You swallow hard, feeling even more nervous now that he knows you have no experience.

Matt's heart races at your admission. He can't believe how innocent you are - no kisses, no boyfriends... He leans in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you want to. His lips brush against yours softly at first, testing the waters. “Fuck…” he whispers under his breath before pressing his lips gently against yours. It's a soft kiss, testing the waters while giving you plenty of opportunity to pull away if needed.

You freeze initially, shocked by the sudden kiss. Your eyes widen slightly before closing instinctively. You part your lips softly without even realizing it, giving him better access. Matt deepens the kiss gently, his hand moving from your cheek to the back of your neck to hold you closer.

The kiss is gentle and exploratory, unlike anything you've ever experienced. Your heart races in your chest as you feel his lips move against yours, his tongue tracing your bottom lip softly. You whimper softly, unsure of what to do but unable to pull away.

Matt takes your whimper as encouragement and slips his tongue into your mouth, gently exploring. He kisses you deeply, passionately, pouring all his pent-up desire and frustration into it. His hand moves from your neck to the back of your head, holding you in place as he kisses you breathless.

Matt breaks the kiss, breathing heavily as he stares at you with heated eyes. A smirk plays on his lips as he sees your flushed face and parted lips.

“Did you like that?” Matt asks, his voice low and huy. He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. "I know I did." His hand moves to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

You're too stunned to speak, your mind reeling from the intense kiss. All you can manage is a soft, breathy "Mm-hmm" as Matt's hand on your waist sends shivers down your spine.

Matt smiles softly at your response, finding it cute how innocent you are. He tests another question, "Do you want to learn more things?” His voice drops lower.His thumb brushes your hipbone, making you squirm slightly.

You bite your lip nervously, unsure if you should ask but too curious to stop now. "More... things?" you repeat softly, your cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red. Your eyes flick down to his lips briefly before meeting his gaze again. "Like... what?"

Matt's smirk deepens, enjoying your innocence and curiosity. "You'll see," he says softly, his voice laced with promise. He takes your hand gently and leads you towards the bed. His movements are slow and deliberate, giving you plenty of time to change your mind if you want to.

Matt gently pushes you back onto the bed, following you down so that you're lying underneath him. He props himself up on his elbows, caging you in between his arms. "Open your mouth." He says, his voice low and huy.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of what he wants to do. But the curiosity and excitement in your chest wins out over your nerves. You open your mouth slightly, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

Matt swallows hard, finding your obedience incredibly sexy. He lowers his face to yours and slips his tongue into your open mouth again, this time kissing you deeper and more intensely. His hand moves to your thigh, slowly hiking up your skirt as he kisses you.

As Matt kisses you deeply, his fingers trail up your inner thigh, getting closer to the hem of your underwear. You whimper softly into the kiss, one of your hands gripping his shirt tightly stopped his hand.

Matt freezes, his tongue still exploring your mouth. He pulls back slightly to look at you, watching as you unconsciously tighten your thighs together. "Trust me, I’ll make you feel good." His voice drops lower, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your thigh where your hand stopped him.

"But..." you whimper softly, biting your lip as your legs press together tighter. "It's just..." You bite your lip again, hesitating. "No one's ever touched me there before." You admit softly, your cheeks burning red.

"Shhh..." he hushes you softly, his other hand gently stroking your hair. "I just wanna make you feel good" he whispers against your lips. His thumb traces the edge of your underwear, making you shiver.

He kisses you deeply again to distract you as his fingers slowly slip underneath your underwear. You gasp into his mouth as he touches you there for the first time, his fingers gentle and exploratory. He breaks the kiss to whisper,"Shh, just relax..." His fingers start to move slowly over your clit.

You let out a soft whimper as his fingers start to move, your back arching slightly off the bed. It feels strange at first, but also really good. You bite your lip to stifle a moan as he continues to touch you, your legs falling open unconsciously.

Matt watches you carefully, seeing your innocent reactions. He adds more pressure to your clit, his fingers moving in slow circles. He swallows hard watching how responsive you are, completely untouched before. "Spread your legs wider for me," he whispers huskily against your neck, placing soft kisses there.

You spread your legs wider as he asks, feeling shy but also wanting more. He slips a finger inside you slowly, watching your face closely. You're so tight and wet for him that he has to go slow. He kisses your neck again to calm you down.

"Fuck, you're so fucking tight." He whispers against your neck. He starts to move his finger slowly in and out of you, stretching you. You whimper softly, gripping the bedsheets. It feels weird having something inside you, but it also feels really good.

He adds a second finger, stretching you gently. You let out a soft cry into his shoulder as he kisses you deeply to muffle the sound. His fingers curl inside you, hitting a spot that makes your whole body jerk. "Shh shh shh..." he whispers against your lips, kissing you softly.

You clench around his fingers tightly, panting heavily as he continues to touch you in all the right spots. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close as you bury your face in his chest to muffle your moans. "M-Matt..." you whimper his name, "It feels so...weird, but good..." You bite your lip, your face flushed.

Matt smiles softly at your words, pleased by your innocent reactions. He continues to move his fingers inside you slowly while rubbing your clit with his thumb. "I know baby," he whispers, kissing your forehead gently. "Let me make it feel really good..." He picks up speed slightly.

Without warning, he starts moving down your body, placing kisses along your stomach. You blush deeply, trying to close your legs but he gently keeps them open. He looks up at you with hooded eyes. "Just trust me, okay..." He slowly starts taking off your skirt and panties.

He throws your clothes aside and spreads your legs wider, settling between them. He looks at your innocent pussy, completely bare and untouched. He swallows hard before diving down and pressing his mouth against you. You let out a loud gasp as he starts licking and sucking on your clit gently.

His tongue moves expertly over your clit, his hands spreading your legs wider to give him better access. He keeps his movements gentle and slow, knowing you're a virgin. You start squirming underneath him, your hands gripping his hair as you whimper and moan softly.

You pant heavily, your voice trembling with pleasure. "M-Matt...what...what are you doing...it feels so...good..." You arch your hips up slightly towards his mouth trying to get more pressure from him.

He looks up at you briefly, his eyes dark with desire. "Just enjoying you..." He says before going back down to lick your pussy more eagerly now that he knows you're loving it. He slips two fingers inside you again while continuing to suck on your clit.

"Oh my god..." you gasp out, your body tensing as his fingers move in and out while his tongue works its magic on your sensitive clit. "It's...it's too much..." Your legs shake slightly, and you can feel yourself getting closer to something you've never experienced before.

He feels you getting closer and starts moving his fingers faster, curling them inside you to hit that spot that makes your eyes roll back. He sucks hard on your clit, wanting to make you come undone. "That's it baby, let go for me..." he murmurs against your pussy.

Suddenly, you break apart. Your back arches off the bed and you let out a loud moan that turns into a series of whimpers as you come for the first time. Matt keeps his face buried between your legs, lapping up your release gently as your body shakes with pleasure.

He kisses his way back up your body once you've stopped shaking. He looks down at you with soft eyes filled with love and desire. "Did that feel good baby?" He asks, kissing your neck gently.

You’re about to answer as you hear the front door opening.

"Matt?" Your sister's voice calls out from the front door. You both freeze, your eyes wide with shock and panic. Matt quickly pulls up your skirt to cover you, but you can still feel the wetness between your legs and the lingering sensitivity.

Matt quickly kisses your forehead and jumps off the bed, and helps you get up "Go hop in the shower real quick, okay?" He says quietly, giving you a soft smile to calm you down. "I'll deal with her."

Taglist pt 1:

@blahbel668 @bernardsbendystraws @sturnzsblog @deffonotjae @suyqa

@mattsturniololover1 @mattsturniolosgf @annsx03 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @strnzzvsp

@mattsfavbitchhh @yourenogoodforme-blog @mattshighway @lauren-222 @slvtformatts

@megamorgan44 @xaristhings @ariestrxsh @sucretwin @tisiablack

@nelxoxo14 @miasturn1ol0 @mattssslutbby @sophsturns @sturnberrys

@sturniololover69 @wakeupitschrizz @jessie-essie @freshlov3 @sturniolofreakk

@lydi2718 @chrisstvrns @le4hsblog @pip4444chris @chris-hallelujah

@esioleren @namelesssav @ilovemenwithlonghairr @ribread03 @valkatriee

@sturniolofreakk @izzylovesmatt @lolastrniolo @pip4444chris @idrk2292

@strnilolover @2prcntmilkluvr @chrissbows @chrissweetheart @strvnolin

[hana-no-seiiki]

YAN! DAMIAN WAYNE x TSUNDERE! STARK! READER (PART ONE)

(Excerpt from my private fic Sun&Moon)

TW/CW: OP! Reader, “Mary Sue!” Reader, Soft Yandere Vibes. Aged Up! Damian. Damian Wayne falls harder. The last scene is literally ripped straight out of Honkai Impact 3rd’s Meteoric Salvation cutscene with some changes. Reader is GN, but gets their hands perfectly manicured.

SPIN OFF TO THIS FIC

Gotham Visions Academy.

You were practically destined to walk these halls. Born into wealth, surrounded by privilege, and backed by a network of names that opened doors before you even learned to knock. Your talents? Curated, polished, and paid for—every lesson, every skill, another line on your father’s invoice. And your intellect? At least that wasn’t bought. That, you were lucky enough to inherit. A gift among many from Daddy Dearest.

You were practically made to be fawned over. Worshipped. Adored.

And that you were.

Top of your class, heir to the Stark legacy, smarter than the ones who tried to impress you, and sharper than the ones who feared you. You walked through Gotham Visions Academy with the kind of ease that came with too many accolades and not enough real challenges.

Everyone wanted something from you—your notes, your secrets, your attention.

Everyone . . . except him.

Damian Wayne.

The only person in the school who treated you like you were just another student. Or worse—like you were beneath his time.

It was infuriating.

Which is probably why your heart started acting . . . weird whenever you saw him.

You didn’t like him. Obviously. You barely tolerated him. And today was no different.

You turned the corner toward your locker, only to find him already there, arms folded, back leaning lazily against the metal as if gravity itself catered to him. His eyes were focused somewhere in the middle distance, calculating and unreadable—like he was trying to decide whether or not to set the world on fire.

You stopped walking, your nose wrinkling.

“. . . Tch. You again?”

He didn’t even flinch.

“Still mistaking oxygen for entitlement, I see,” Damian said flatly, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “Must be exhausting.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed past him, the hem of your coat brushing his leg on purpose.

“Excuse me for breathing in my own hallway.”

Your own hallway you spoke. Yes. You owned the hallway. Courtesy of your father wanting you to have more privacy.

He didn’t move. Just raised a brow and continued watching you with that stupid, smug expression. The one that said he didn’t need to try to get under your skin. He already lived there.

You reached into your locker, trying to ignore the fact that your hands were suddenly a little shakier than usual. Probably from the air conditioning. Obviously. Not because he was standing close enough for you to feel the warmth of him at your back.

You refused to turn around.

“You’re always here,” you muttered. “What, are you stalking me now?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he replied smoothly. “You just happen to be impossible to avoid. Like a pregnant mosquito.”

You snapped the locker door shut with unnecessary force.

“At least I don’t look like a sleep-deprived Bond villain.”

“Wouldn’t you have to know what a villain looks like?” Damian asked, voice calm. “Or are you too busy pretending your father isn’t building half of them?”

Your lips parted in offense, but you didn’t fire back right away. The air between you thinned, stretched taut with something unspoken. Something both of you refused to name.

Because you knew. Just like he did. The late-night disappearances. The bruised knuckles. The matching shadows under your eyes. You both wore the same kind of silence, wrapped in different armor.

But neither of you said a word.

Because to acknowledge it would mean crossing a line. And if you crossed it—you didn’t know if either of you would stop.

“…You’re such a jerk,” you muttered instead, turning to walk away.

“And yet,” he called after you, “you keep finding excuses to talk to me.”

You paused. Just for a second.

Then you tossed your hair over your shoulder and kept walking, cheeks burning in spite of yourself.

“I-it’s not like I care, okay?! I just didn’t want your brooding face ruining my locker’s aesthetic!”

Damian didn’t respond. But you swore—just barely—you heard the faintest sound of him exhaling through a laugh.

Not that you cared.

You absolutely didn’t.

Probably.

You were intolerable.

A parasite of privilege, feeding off your father’s name, trailing arrogance like a perfume that suffocated every room you entered.

You didn’t just hold yourself above others—you reminded them of it. Every time you laughed too loudly at someone’s mistake, every time your perfectly manicured hand fluttered dismissively toward a classmate mid-sentence. It wasn’t even direct, half the time. Just those pointed glances. The offhand remarks. The carefully veiled cruelty that only someone trained to see it would notice.

He noticed.

He saw the way you mocked people who couldn’t keep up. The way you turned charm into a weapon, laced with venom, wrapped in satin. And worst of all—you smiled while doing it. Like it meant nothing. Like the world owed you attention, and anyone who didn’t give it willingly deserved to be broken.

You were everything he’d been taught to despise. Spoiled. Sharp-tongued. Useless outside your reputation.

And yet somehow, you had the nerve to act like he was beneath you.

Every time you rolled your eyes at him in class. Every smug remark. Every insult disguised as banter.

You looked at him like he was the one wasting your time.

And he hated it.

He hated you.

Or at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

Now, high above the docks, crouched on a corroded metal beam overlooking a shipment yard drowned in fog, he replayed the most recent encounter in his head. Your voice—cutting and too proud—echoed in his skull. Some throwaway line about him having “resting brooding face” or being a “sleep deprived Bond villain.”

He’d ignored it at the time. But it stuck anyway. Like you always did. Like a thorn he hadn’t bothered to pluck.

A gust of wind tugged at his cape, the cold stinging his cheeks beneath the cowl. His comm crackled to life just as he reached for the binoculars at his hip.

“Robin.”

Bruce’s voice—gravel and steel. Urgent.

“New intel. Bomb planted in the West End docks. Clock’s ticking—thirty minutes at most.”

Damian’s grip tightened.

“Copy that.”

He leapt from the beam, landing with a practiced thud on the rooftop below. The metal groaned beneath his boots as he moved.

Thirty minutes. Enough time if he was fast. Precise. Perfect.

He needed to focus. Forget you. Forget the way your voice made his chest tighten with something unnamable. Forget the way you watched him like you knew something about him—something he hadn’t even admitted to himself.

This wasn’t about you.

This was Gotham.

And people were going to die if he didn’t move.

Still, as the city blurred around him in streaks of smoke and steel, your voice wouldn’t shut up in his head.

Typical. Even in silence, you were loud.

The wind roared in his ears as he landed hard on the rooftop overlooking the West End loading yard. From up here, the city was a mess of metal veins and dim orange haze. Below, shipping containers were scattered like broken teeth, and in the center of it all—there it was. The bomb.

Sleek. Pale. Otherworldly.

Like something pulled from a dream that had never been meant to exist.

Even from this distance, Damian could feel it humming.

“I have eyes on the device.” His voice was clipped as he tapped the comm.

“It’s unlike anything I’ve seen before. This isn’t WayneTech. Not even League tech.”

A pause. Then Batman’s voice, heavy and grim.

“It’s Aetherial Arbor energy. Prototype. Stolen off-world. That thing goes off, it takes half the district with it.”

Damian narrowed his eyes.

“How do I disarm it?”

Another silence. Then—

“You don’t.”

“Your suit can’t handle the radiation field. No one’s can. Not unless it was designed by Stark.”

He clenched his jaw.

Of course.

“Then tell him to get down here.”

But Bruce didn’t answer.

Instead, someone else landed in the clearing below him—loud, intentional. Not a graceful drop from the shadows, but a debut. A gleaming figure in white and rose-gold armor, light glinting off polished plating as they rose from a crouch and faced the bomb.

Damian’s blood went cold.

“. . .No,” he whispered.

Because it was you.

The headpiece slid back, revealing a familiar smirk—tight with fear, but cocky enough to mask it. Your white suit hugged close to your frame, the glow of the chest reactor casting its light across your features. Your hair fluttered behind you in the breeze like you’d been pulled straight out of some myth.

But it wasn’t the suit that stunned him.

It was the expression.

You looked . . . calm. Like you were finally exactly where you were meant to be.

“Don’t worry, Gotham,” you said aloud, voice broadcast through the suit’s external mic. “Daddy’s not coming tonight. But his favorite heir is.”

Damian’s heart kicked in his chest.

The others on the comm were stunned into silence. Even Batman.

You stepped forward, scanning the device. Your voice dropped in pitch, switching to private comms.

“Bomb’s already too unstable. I can’t shut it down from here. Gonna have to fly it out. Somewhere empty. Somewhere safe.”

“No,” Bruce’s voice snapped. “Negative. You’re not authorized—”

“Respectfully?” you cut in, already lifting the bomb with magnetic tethers. “Too bad.”

You blasted upward in a sharp burst of light, rocketing into the sky with the pulsing heart of catastrophe cradled in your arms. The feedback nearly blew out Damian’s earpiece, but he didn’t care.

He was already running.

He leapt from the rooftop, following the streak of white and gold through the clouds, heart slamming against his ribs.

“Don’t be stupid,” he hissed into the comm. “This isn’t about theatrics. Drop it and disengage.”

Your voice came through, soft. Distant. But raw.

“ . . . If I let it fall, someone else picks up the pieces. I’m tired of pieces.”

You were crying, maybe. Or smiling. He couldn’t tell. There was static now.

“I want to make something beautiful out of this world, Damian. Even if I only get to do it once.”

And that—

That was when he knew.

He’d hated you. He’d tolerated you. Mocked you. Fought you.

But nothing prepared him for this.

For the way his chest split open at the sound of your voice.

For the way his heart screamed against the sky.

You were light and fury and sacrifice and brilliance. You were everything he never allowed himself to believe in.

And in that moment, as the sky bloomed into distant gold,

Damian Wayne fell in love.

Dick, Jason, and Tim were all watching this go down. You know where this all leads to no?

[millerlvrgirl]

come alive | simon ghost riley

𓏵 you & simon get stranded in the middle of nowhere. 𓏵

──── ୨ৎ

tags ..

simon "ghost" riley x reader , smut , outdoor sex , vaginal sex , squirting and vaginal ejaculation , vaginal fingering, p in v, stranded, unsafe sex, breeding, oral sex, porn no plot, porn with feelings

if u prefer to read on ao3 ..

ᢉ𐭩

enjoy !

──── ୨ৎ

You suppose it was understandable. Weeks out in the trees, down rocks, through rivers. You figure it’s valid, after being left alone with nothing but the opposite sex, having to constantly stick by each other so one of you wouldn’t wander off and put yourself in an even more dangerous situation. This wouldn’t be something you’d have to explain on judgment day, because it’s just human instinct. If God had a problem with this, he wouldn’t have implemented the urge, the need.

To fuck.

Simon wasn’t attractive to you when you met him. Sure, the burly, big, older man was in general appealing, but you were not drawn to him. It’s not like you ever talked to him either. And you were a pretty twenty something year old, you had enough hookups and vibrators to keep you satisfied. Not to mention he was your Lieutenant. And it was off limits.

Super off limits.

But there aren't laws in the middle of nowhere. And the fact that if Simon and you would happen to.. do it, there wouldn’t be repercussions. Right?

“Fucks up’ with you?” Simon’s voice snaps you right out of your frantic internal justifying and your eyes flick up to meet it. He was leaning over the opening of the small tent, a shelter you both got lucky on when you realized you were stranded.

His stern gaze makes you swallow thickly. “Huh?” You reply, fidgeting with the sleeping bag underneath you. The sleeping arrangement wasn’t too bad the first couple days when you understood that you both had to stay close anyways to reserve your body heat and not freeze to death. But now that you were soaking your panties at every little thing he did, the nearness was unbearable. “Nothing,” You shake your head, smoothing your palms over your thighs.

“Bullshit,” He grunts, cocking his head. “Fires high now. Come outta here.”

“I’m alright, L.T, swear it.” You sigh, biting the inside of your cheek.

Simon rolls his eyes, leaning down onto his knee and wrapping his hands around your arms, pulling you up and out through the zipper opening. “Y’r shakin’ like a fawn.” He mumbles under his breath when he lets go, going to sit down on the dried log next to where you both had decided to camp down.

Well.

You inhale sharply, sitting next to him. The fire crackles and chirps, sparks spraying upwards into the foggy sky, the sun already starting to lower down under the earth from your view. It’s all silent except for the flames and your breathing, the occasional breath from your Lieutenant as he puffs a cigarette that he almost cried with joy when he found the day before, forgetting he had packed a box of smokes.

The quietness breaks with Simon’s grumbling, rough, unfortunately British voice. “So,” He exhales, smoke funneling out through his chapped lips. “What’s got y’e all antisocial? Been talkin’ my ears off for days an’ now you’re sitting in the tent like a loner.”

“It’s nothing. I told you.” You exhale, tilting your head back, rubbing your thighs back and forth flat handed, a nervous thing.

Ghost sighs quite dramatically, flicking the ash from his cig. He turns his head, leaning his forearms on his knees. “Y’make shit so much harder than it has t’be, soldier. Just tell me.”

“I can’t.” You wince. “It’s literally illegal.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “For you to talk t’me? It’s illegal?”

“No,” Your breath hitches. You see his expression change back from confusion to irritation and you’re quick to try and defend your point. “It’s just— it’s.. the.. principle.. of the conversation we were to have if I told you—"

“For Christ’s sake, just tell me what the fuck’s going on,” He groaned through your stuttering, rolling his deep brown eyes. He’d taken his mask off when you guys discovered you were lost lost and it felt immensely intimate.

“It’s embarrassing.” You huff back. “..and illegal.”

Simon narrows his eyes. “Embarrassing and illegal.”

You gulp, nodding slowly. A small, sheepish smile curls at the corners of your lips. “Very illegal. Super, super illegal.”

His expression says everything. “Well. Good thing there ain’t any judges out here, eh?” He tosses his cigarette into the fire, echoing a couple pops and sizzles, and stands up from the log. “Y’got a grown man begging to listen what y’have to say and y’r still too much of a pussy. You are unbelievable, Bambi.”

You furrow your brows. “Bambi?”

“Yeah. Little nervous fucker. American movie. Wasn’t tha’ bad, honest.” Ghost shrugs, his jaw flexing.

“You’re strange, Lieutenant.”

He rolls his shoulders and crosses his arms. “Stop tryin’ t’ change the subject and tell me, damn it.”

Your heart is pounding like an incoming train when you are standing on the tracks, how the fuck do you tell your superior officer and also the only other person around for miles and miles that you are so horny every waking minute feels like agony. You’re so desperate it hurts. It aches. You need him.

He clicks his tongue. You blink at him.

You’re going to be sick looking into his eyes like this.

“You can’t get weirded out.” You let go of your breath.

Ghost huffs. “Alright?”

You shift in your sitting position, your clothes feel like they’re suffocating you, like you’re burning up. “I’m serious, L.T. You can’t— like,”

“I won’t. Swear to y’e.” He says and it sounds sincere. Caring, almost, as caring as you can sound when your voice is deep and rough like his.

You tuck your hair behind your ears, sniffing, your eyes flickering from his face to the ground, to his boots, to his gaze again. You are stuck, like a mouse and he’s the house cat pacing in front of the small hole you’d tucked yourself into, waiting for you to peek your head out so he could dig his claws in.

God, you really are a hormonal mess. Predator and prey fantasies all while said predator is staring right at you, just waiting for you to fucking talk.

“Uhm.. so..” You start, the words tasting like metal in your mouth. Your cheeks warm up and start turning bright, your shoulders filling with goosebumps. “You are kind of. The.. worst person.. to be stuck with, right now.”

You can see your Lieutenant’s eyebrows furrow and his nose bridge crinkle. “Well, I’m a hell of a lot better than any of the others—" He starts but you shake your head frantically, raising your hands in defense.

“That's not what I mean. I mean like— because— you’re.. you’re a man. A— a nice one, an okay one. You know.”

Your breathing is loud in the silence between you both while your heart skips every other beat. “L.T, I’m—“

“Horny?”

You feel like you got the wind knocked out of you. All your blood rushes to your face and you’re going to pass out, you’re going to faint—

Leaves crunch under Simon’s tactical boots, his hands going to rest on your shoulders, fingertips pressing into the soft parts in your collar and neck. “Was waitin’ for y’e to ask. Thought a little stress relief would be good f’r us,”

Your voice cracks and fizzes into nothing. It would probably be okay for you to die there, right?

“Didn’t mean to be too forward, baby, just thought that’s what had y’a freaked out. You’re hot f’r me, that right?” He told your chin, crouching down to your height, making you follow him with your eyes.

It’s like your head is spinning. “Answer me.” Simon huffs, and you scramble to curl your fingers into his vest, shooting your head forward, closer to his, your noses bumping.

You gulp, stumbling and tripping over words. “Y—yes. You’re right,”

Your voice is small, girlish, makes his stomach tighten. He slides his large palms to your love handles and Ghost squeezes, his lips moving just the tiniest bit into a grin that causes your blood to pulse in your ears. “Could’ve just told me.”

You shake your head, shutting your eyes. You can smell him, a bit earthy from being outside for so long, his musk filling your nostrils. If you were thinking about anything other than getting him inside your pants, you’d think this was sort of gross. You both hadn’t showered in anything but a river for two weeks and you were in the same three pairs of clothes you had brought for the mission that landed you here. But it didn’t even cross your lusted over mind.

“Didn’t— want to make stuff worse.” You admit, the hollow of your cheeks turning red and hot. “I mean you already have to.. be out here with me.. and if I made it awkward it—”

Ghost chuckles, a low rumble from his throat as he curls his fingers into your back, “You think tellin’ a man you want to fuck ‘im would make it awkward?” He nudges his face closer to yours, clicking his tongue.

“I would’ve pounded you the first night we got out here if y’asked,”

Your words fall from you and blood rushes straight to your cunt. “R—really?” You squeak.

He hums in response, yanking you closer. “Really, love.”

Your hands go to his chest and your head rolls down, your forehead against his. Your eyes drop to his lap, almost falling out of the sockets when you see the bulge at his crotch. Your tongue goes dry and you part your lips with a heavy exhale, blinking back up to his brown irises.

“You want me to take y’a back in that tent, sweetheart?”

You gulp, your mind spinning with anticipation, your stomach turning with heat and arousal. You nod quickly, your fingers tightening into the fabric of his vest. “Please, sir.”

“Don’t gotta beg. Silly girl.” It doesn’t take him any longer than a second to scoop you up into his arms, your legs frantically wrapping around his hips as he holds your spine, pushing you close into his chest. He plants a firm kiss on your lips, walking you over to the single person tent you both had been sharing for three weeks, unzipping it with one hand and kneeling down, careful with you in his arms. It never feels unstable as he lays you down, crawling over you, his strong knees pressed right next to your thighs, hands curling into the sleep bag material around your head. Your eyes flutter open just a bit and you almost ask him to zip the tent back up because—

“No ones around, fawn, it’s just you an’ me. I got y’e all to myself.” He chuckles against your pliant mouth, slipping his tongue inside and tasting you wholly. He palms your ass, lifting your hips onto his thighs as he kneeled over you. “You can be as loud as you want out here.”

His grumbles make a whine crack in your throat and your hands shake as they fumble with the layers of clothing and gear between you, searching greedily for his belt buckle.

“Slow down,” Ghost grunts, bucking his hips to knock your hands away. “Ain’t like no boy you been sleeping with. Not gonna stick my dick in you an’ hump y’like a dog ‘till I’m done. Gotta be more patient than tha’,”

His thick fingers slide underneath your pants, shifting them down on your thighs and moving his head, ducking it underneath yours. Simon lets out a low whistle, looking straight at the little pair of gray panties you had on, at how small you were compared to him. “Fuckin’ hell..” He groans, rolling his thumb over the soft cotton, finding your clit.

The way your body responds to his actions makes his gut clench and he can’t fathom how he’s got you all alone.

“Gonna let me taste y’r pussy?” He growls out.

You couldn’t say yes any quicker. “God. Please, Lieutenant, I need—"

“Shhh, shh, what did I tell you?” Ghost lifts his hand off your cunt and shimmys your underwear down enough so that you’re exposed.

You whine, a pathetic sound that makes your Lieutenant’s dick twitch in his boxers.

“Th—that I don’t have to beg,” You pant heavily.

He nods, sliding his knees back, hiking your legs up on his shoulders, large hands wrapping completely around your ankles. His breath is hot against your sex, his lips grazing against your slit in a gentle kiss.

“Put y’a hands in my hair, sweetheart,” The tops of your thighs fill with goosebumps and you slither your nimble fingers down into his messy hair, your heart beating a mile, every inch of you covered in a thick, consuming and wanting heat, all the way from your eyes to the tips of your toes as they rest over his back. “No pleading. Just show me how you wan’ it.”

Ghost isn’t a tease. He doesn’t make you jack him off or give him pleasure first, he doesn’t force your thighs apart to edge your orgasm with his fingers until you’re crying, he just parts your sticky lips with his thumbs and buries his face into your warm cunt. He guides you to roll your heat over his chin, his nose, all over his beard while he licks and sucks and groans like you are his favorite meal. You might as well be, he thinks, when he inhales deeply through his nose and is punched in the face with your scent, the natural, light fragrance of your pussy.

This is right where he is meant to be, you swear as his tongue makes your vision white, your fingers tight in his locs, pulling him deeper into your sex. You can’t say anything but Simon, and God. The two are synonymous when he’s got his lips around your clit and his palms on your thighs.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” He grunts, his voice practically drowned out by the slick sounds of his eating, his tongue sliding across every inch of your sensitive skin and you couldn’t be louder than you are now. Your moans and mewls fill the thin tent.

It takes you less than ten minutes to come into his mouth. Simon would have stayed down there for hours.

Your orgasm flows fast, you didn’t even know you could squirt as much as you did. It’s dripping down his lips and his chin, the coarse hair across his jaw drenched with your release.

Your Lieutenant’s eyes droop and he licks his lips as he raises his head, groaning underneath his breath, like a lion with a gazelle under its claws. He’s got you. You wouldn’t run even if you were able to. Your legs are practically limp, spreading open across his lap as he leans back on his heels.

“Shit, look at y’a. Gushin’ like a fountain, maybe I should’ve made y’beg if it was that good.”

A lazy smile stretches over your face and you roll your head back onto the sleeping bag. You feel his hands travel all the way up your torso again, landing on your cheeks. He tilts you back to him.

“Y’alright?” Ghost asks. “Think y’e can take my cock?”

You huff, parting your lips, “Yeah.”

"Say it. Tell me you can.”

Your eyes flutter open wider, staring at him steadily while your arms wrap around his neck and you dig your ankles into his lower back. “I can take it. All of it. Fuck me, sir.”

“Tha’s it.” Simon drops his hands to his pants, unbuckling his belt in a hurry and shoving the fabric down on his thighs. He’s got dark, intricate tattoos near the hem of his boxers. His cock is tenting his underwear, heavy as he moves the waistband down under his balls. He raises one palm and spits on it, uncoordinatedly rubbing it over his length, hissing at the much wanted friction.

“Goddammit.” He groans, tipping his head back, just stroking himself for a moment while your eyes sparkled, watching in absolute awe. He’s the desperate one, fisting his erection to the sight of you.

“Put it in,” You squirm, whining, already spoiled.

“Greedy.” Ghost huffs, shifting his hips forward and lining the head of his cock up with your glistening pussy. He ducks his head and spits again, right where you both meet for good measure as his slides inside. His face is quick to tip back again, hissing through his teeth while your cunt sucks him in.

“Simooon,” You plead, pain of the stretch making your nose bridge scrunch and crinkle, the cutest expression, causing his stomach to flutter like he was a school boy, even with his dick half buried in your heat.

“Need a minute, baby?” Ghost barely gets done with his question before he’s cut off by a buck of your hips, punching out a low groan from him as your movement sinks him deeper. “Shit. Little minx,” He pinches your clit lightly.

Your Lieutenant takes that as a hard no, continuing to fill you up until he’s balls deep. Your pussy pulses around him and he can feel it, his fists grinding into the ground by your arms as he holds back the urge to thrust. He allows your body a bit of time to adjust to his thick intrusion, biting down on his lip.

It doesn’t take too long for his cock to slide back out of you slowly and rock back in. It’s a smooth mechanical movement. Simon moans, satisfied with the thought that he already made you cum once, because he is not going to last long.

“Christ, love, you’re milkin’ me.” He grins, watching where your pussy swallows his length. His hands come down to hold your waist, lifting you from the ground, moving you back and forth. You’re making the prettiest noises, moaning his name like it’s the only thing you remember how to say.

“Little fawn,” He murmurs, huffing and puffing above you, looking at your blissful face. He sounds so sweet and it makes your body all warm.

“Faster, Simon,” You choke out.

You don’t have to tell him twice. He’s folding your legs up onto your chest, leaning off of his heels and fucking you properly. Your voice trembles and shakes, your eyes squeezing shut tightly while you try to catch up with the sudden change of pace.

Ghost seems pretty well adjusted, his teeth gritted while he smiles like a dog with a bone. He grunts, his hips slamming into the back of your thighs, the lewd sounds of him repeatedly filling you up filling the small tent. You’d be content if you were never found after this. If you and Simon were just left out here until mother nature's conditions took over, you wouldn’t mind. You don’t think you’d ever felt so good.

“Ain’t gonna last, sweetheart,” He stutters, his body caving in on yours as he squeezes you both tight to the ground. He cups your shoulders, looking into your eyes. “Need one more. Just..— one more, for me,” He groans loudly, his thrusts getting more sloppy and rough as his balls tighten up, his cock twitching inside of you.

Your cunt drools down his erection, a creamy ring at the base from your pussy. You gasp out, your legs limp on his shoulders while you squeeze like a vice, clamping down on his dick, your mind blank while another orgasm shoots through your veins and nerves.

Ghost breaks too, his abs twitching as he pumps you full of his cum, throwing his head back with a drawn out moan. His skin is all tingly while he holds your waist, keeping you plugged up. Even as his heart starts to regain its original pace and his cock starts to soften, slowly slipping out of your hole; he doesn’t loosen his grip on you, doesn’t move away. He feels you. All of you.

“L.T,” You pant after a few minutes. He only hums in response. “You think they’re gonna find us?”

Simon takes a bit to reply, snuggling his face up into your neck, letting your legs fall back onto his lap from his broad shoulders. “Hope not. Y’can’t be tha’ loud back at base, fawn.”

──── ୨ৎ

xoxo

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

If Your Character Doesn’t Want Anything, The Plot Can’t Start

so. here’s the thing. if your main character is just kinda floating through the story like a passive sad bean™️ with no real goal or drive, then the plot? is not plotting.

this isn’t a ✨you suck✨ thing. it’s a common first draft curse. but if you’re 30k words deep and your protagonist is still just reacting to stuff with vague concern and inner monologues about The Past™… we need to talk.

📍what even is a character “want”?

your character’s want is their external goal. the thing they’re trying to get, do, or change.

avenge someone

win a trial

run away from their cursed bloodline

steal the crown

get through one (1) normal semester without summoning a demon by accident

it’s tangible. it’s active. it’s visible. other characters should be able to argue with it, get in the way of it, or try to stop it.

💥without a want, your character is just:

wandering

reacting

monologuing about their feelings

getting dragged into scenes by external forces

waiting for the plot to happen to them

and honestly? same. but also: no.

readers need to feel like your character is making the story happen, not being passively pushed along by fate and side characters with better motivations.

⚠️ want vs need (aka: the emotional trauma part)

quick breakdown:

the want = the external goal (win the throne, survive the week, kiss the hot villain)

the need = the internal arc (heal the grief, learn to trust, accept their identity, realize kissing the hot villain is a bad idea)

your character should want something that will eventually lead them to what they need. but the want comes first. the want is the engine. the need is the crash landing.

plot starts with the want.

character arc ends with the need.

🎯 signs your character doesn’t want anything (yet):

you keep skipping scenes because “nothing is happening”

you’re relying on vibes or worldbuilding to carry the tension

side characters are doing all the heavy lifting

your protagonist spends more time reacting than deciding

your outline says “stuff happens” for 8 chapters

🛠️ how to fix it:

Make them want something that’s wrong. they don’t have to want the right thing. they just have to want something strongly. wrong goals lead to better tension. and failure. and chaos. (yay!)

Put something between them and that goal. wanting something isn’t enough. they need to pursue it, and get blocked. by enemies. allies. their own self-sabotage. this is where conflict comes from.

Tie the want to survival or obsession. if it’s not urgent, it’s background noise. raise the stakes. why now? why does this matter? why can’t they walk away?

Let them choose. at some point in Act 1, they need to make a conscious decision to pursue the goal. even if they get manipulated into it. even if it’s a bad idea. it needs to feel like a choice.

📦 examples:

✨bad✨: “she’s just trying to get by and see what happens”

✅better: “she’s trying to disappear, but someone recognizes her from the war and now she has to fake a new identity while hunting them down before they ruin her life”

see the difference? one is vibes. one is a whole plot engine.

the story doesn’t start until your character wants something badly enough to make a move, and risk breaking something.

give them a goal. a plan. a terrible idea. and then go ruin their life.

P.S. I made a free mini eBook about the 5 biggest mistakes writers make in the first 10 pages 👀 you can grab it here for FREE:

🕯️ download the pack & write something cursed:

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Road Trip.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here !!

authors note - me and my bf did a five hour drive yesterday, and decided to write a little something so enjoy lovies !!

word count - 4.6k

in which, you and harry decided to make an trip up to see his mum up in manchester, making it an family road trip, with a six year old and your freshly turned one year old. it’s going to be a trip to remember.

You’re deep into the M1 now, Manchester still a good stretch away but close enough that Harry’s already mentioned his mum twice. His hand hasn’t left your thigh — like it’s permanently anchored there whenever he’s driving — thumb drawing slow, absentminded circles just above your knee. He’s got that faint smile on his face, the one he gets when he’s in his own head, music low, road wide open.

In the back, Georgie’s eyes are glued to the iPad screen, face lit up by the cartoon glow. His little mouth quirks up into that same exact sideways smile Harry gets when he’s trying not to laugh. Spitting image, right down to the way he absentmindedly taps his fingers on his knee in time with the music.

“What’s he watching?” Harry asks, glancing at the mirror.

You check. “Still Bluey. I think he’s watched the same three episodes on repeat for the past forty minutes.”

Georgie speaks up without looking away. “It’s the one where they pretend the floor is lava.”

Harry grins. “Classic. You try that again in the living room and your mum’s gonna ban cushions for life.”

Georgie giggles and mutters something under his breath about how Harry fell over last time.

You shoot Harry a look. “He’s not wrong. You tried to leap across the sofa and pulled your back.”

Harry’s eyes stay on the road, but he lifts his chin like he’s got something to defend. “In my defense, the floor was lava.”

You snort. “You’re nearly thirty-one, H.”

“Exactly. Gotta keep up with the young blood. Right, Georgie?”

Georgie giggles from the back, not looking up from his screen. “You fell off the sofa when we played that.”

Harry makes a face. “Oi, I meant to do that.”

You turn your head toward him slowly. “You landed flat on your back and then swore you saw stars.”

He huffs, half-laughing. “That carpet’s not as soft as it looks. Nearly cracked my hip.”

“You’re thirty, not eighty,” you say with a grin.

He gives your thigh a playful squeeze. “Feels like eighty after a ‘floor is lava’ session with that one.”

Behind you, Isla gives another soft babble, followed by the sound of her rattle smacking against the side of her car seat. Her dummy’s still hanging on, but just barely — she’s more interested in yanking the loops on the hanging toy and slapping her foot against the edge like she’s keeping time with the playlist.

“She’s got the energy of three people,” you murmur.

Harry chuckles. “And none of the patience.”

You glance back again. Isla’s eyes catch yours — that exact same pale green as Harry’s — and she flashes a gummy grin. The curls are already forming around her ears, thick and unruly, just like her dad’s.

“She really is your double,” you say, turning back around.

Harry smiles softly. “I know. I see her little face in the mirror some mornings and think, ‘blimey, did I shrink?’”

You laugh. “You did. Twice. And now they both ask for snacks every seven minutes.”

“Which is fair,” he shrugs. “It’s how I live my life.”

Georgie speaks up again, tugging one headphone off. “I’m hungry.”

Harry checks the screen on the dash. “We’re coming up to services soon. Want McDonald’s?”

“Can I get a milkshake?” Georgie asks, eyes hopeful.

You hesitate, glancing at Harry.

He raises his eyebrows. “You gonna say no to that face?”

You sigh. “Fine. Chocolate. But no complaining later when your hands are sticky.”

“I won’t!” Georgie promises immediately — which is usually a guarantee that he will.

Isla lets out another squeal behind you, arms flailing like she’s trying to take flight.

“She’s gonna need a change, too,” you say. “I can smell something happening.”

Harry makes a face. “Of course she saves it for me driving.”

You smirk. “She’s thoughtful like that.”

He taps his fingers against the steering wheel in rhythm with the music, then reaches across and gently brushes his pinky against your hand. “Still glad we came?”

You lean back in your seat, watching the motorway roll out endlessly in front of you. “Yeah,” you say. “It’s loud. It’s messy. It’s constant.”

He waits.

“And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Harry squeezes your thigh again. “That’s good. ‘Cause I was thinking we could do this every weekend.”

You turn your head, raising an eyebrow. “Drive three hours with two kids in the back, every Saturday?”

He shrugs. “Just think of all the milkshakes.”

You laugh softly, then tilt your head back. “She’s gonna need a change soon. She’s doing that thing with her legs.”

“The kicking?”

You nod. “The warning kicks. Like a countdown.”

“Brilliant,” he mutters. “Always saves it for when I’ve just settled into cruise control.”

Georgie pulls off one of his headphones behind you. “Mum, how many minutes now?”

You check the screen on the dashboard. “About… one hour and forty minutes to go, babe.”

He groans like you’ve just told him school’s been extended through summer.

“You said that ages ago,” he whines.

“And I’ll say it again in another half hour,” Harry jokes.

Georgie slumps a bit in his booster seat. “Can I have McDonald’s now?”

“We’re stopping soon,” you promise. “As soon as we hit Milton Keynes.”

“Can I get a Happy Meal?”

Harry chimes in. “Only if you don’t wipe the ketchup on your jumper this time.”

Georgie thinks about it. “But what if I accidentally wipe it?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Then Daddy’s washing it when we get to Grandma’s.”

Harry huffs. “Don’t drag me into your crimes, mate.”

Georgie giggles and puts his headphones back on. He’s so much like Harry it almost stuns you sometimes — the same crooked little grin, the way he bites the inside of his cheek when he’s thinking, how his left foot taps constantly to whatever music he’s listening to, just like his dad does.

Isla lets out a loud, delighted squeal behind you. You turn your head just in time to see her kick her elephant toy clean off the car seat.

You sigh. “She’s launched the elephant.”

Harry glances in the mirror. “Did she actually?”

“She’s got a throwing arm on her, I swear. You might need to scout her for the England team.”

“She’s still in nappies, love.”

“Still more coordination than you,” you mutter under your breath.

He laughs. “Right, okay. Taking shots now, are we?”

You smile, leaning your elbow on the window. “Just saying. Maybe she gets that from me.”

He leans over slightly to kiss your shoulder at the red light. “She gets her sweetness from you. Everything else is all me.”

You pretend to be horrified. “So you’re taking credit for the attitude, then?”

He smirks. “Gladly.”

Another stretch of road rolls out before you. The motorway hums on beneath the tires. The kids are relatively quiet now — Isla seems content gnawing on her sock (which is somehow off her foot again), and Georgie’s fully engrossed in Bluey.

You take a breath and look out the window.

🩵💕

The “Services 1 Mile” sign appears just in time — one of those giant blue motorway beacons that feels like a tiny miracle when you’ve got two kids in the back and at least one of them smells… suspicious.

“Finally,” you say, stretching your back as Harry flicks the indicator on and takes the exit slip.

“Praise be,” he mutters. “I swear I can feel that nappy from the front seat.”

You glance back. Isla’s chewing on her blanket contently, completely unfazed by the chaos she’s left in her wake. Georgie’s still watching Bluey, completely nose-blind like all kids somehow are.

The Range Rover hums off the motorway and into the service station car park, weaving between lorries and scattered cars. Harry finds a decent spot — close enough to the entrance, far enough from the chaos of the petrol pumps.

As he parks up and shifts into neutral, you’re already unbuckling your seatbelt. He doesn’t move right away.

“What?” you ask, watching him glance into the rearview mirror.

He smirks. “Mentally preparing.”

“For what?”

He reaches for the door handle. “A full-blown blowout, based on that smell.”

You both step out. The air outside is fresh but carries that undeniable chill of July-in-England — breezy, cloudy, definitely not summer-summer.

You move to the boot and pop it open, pulling out the folded stroller with one hand and shaking it open with practiced ease. Meanwhile, Harry’s at Isla’s side door, unbuckling her from her seat.

He lifts her up, and the second he does, his expression changes.

“Oh my God,” he coughs dramatically, holding her away from his body like she’s a bomb about to go off. “That is… that’s not human. That’s criminal.”

You peek around the car, stroller halfway open. “Is it bad?”

He looks you dead in the eyes. “It’s spiritual. I’m seeing things.”

You burst out laughing. “Welcome to fatherhood, again.”

Georgie, now standing at the side of the car with his headphones around his neck, pipes up: “Does Isla need a nappy?”

Harry looks at him with mock-seriousness. “She needs a hazmat suit, mate.”

Isla lets out a delighted little squeal, clapping her hands like she’s proud of herself. You roll your eyes fondly and click the stroller into place.

“Come on then, let’s get inside,” you say. “Change the bomb and then hit the golden arches.”

Georgie lights up. “YES!”

Harry swings Isla onto his hip — brave, considering the risk — and closes the car door with his foot.

“Alright, hold my hand, buddy,” he says, reaching down for Georgie’s little hand.

Georgie grabs it without hesitation, still half-watching Isla with that perfect sibling blend of admiration and disgust.

“Does her bum actually smell that bad?” he asks as they start walking toward the entrance.

Harry leans down a little. “Georgie, it smells like something died and then came back angrier.”

You shake your head, falling into step beside them with the empty stroller. “Can we not scare everyone before we even get inside?”

Harry holds up one finger. “I make no promises.”

The automatic doors whoosh open as you approach the service station building. Inside, it’s a swirl of fast food smells, tired travellers, and vending machines glowing faintly in the corners. A couple of truckers walk past holding massive coffees, and the smell of fries is already drifting over from the McDonald’s queue.

“Right,” Harry says. “You take this one”—he gestures toward Georgie—“and I’ll go tackle The Situation.”

You smirk. “Good luck. Try not to cry.”

He hands Isla to you for a second while you strap her into the stroller, both of you laughing as she immediately starts trying to wiggle out, arms windmilling.

“She’s stronger than she looks,” he mutters, straightening up and shaking his hands like he’s just wrangled a wild animal.

You lean over and kiss her curls. “You’re chaos, aren’t you?”

She squeals back, completely unbothered by her own destruction.

Harry leans in, lowering his voice. “If I’m not back in ten minutes, assume I’ve been taken hostage by a nappy from hell.”

You grin, swatting his arm. “Go on, hero. We’ll be at the counter ordering fries.”

He winks, grabs the nappy bag, and heads toward the baby changing signs.

You and Georgie push the stroller in the opposite direction, his little fingers still sticky from whatever snack he had earlier.

“Can I get apple slices too?” he asks.

“Of course,” you say, pulling him closer. “Fries and fruit. Classic combo.”

🩵💕

He’s pushing Isla through the tiled walkway of the service station, one hand on the stroller handle, the other pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Alright, monkey,” he says quietly, glancing down at her as she kicks her sockless feet and babbles around the dummy still half in her mouth, “what have you done, huh?”

She beams up at him, wide-eyed and innocent, like she doesn’t smell like a literal landfill.

Harry laughs under his breath, shoulders shaking. “That’s the look of someone who knows exactly what they’ve done.”

They pass the Krispy Kreme stand and the row of vending machines humming against the wall. The baby changing room is tucked off to the side — that awkward, sterile, slightly damp-smelling little unit every service station seems to have. He pushes the door open with his hip, wheels the stroller in, and lets the door click shut behind him.

“Right, team,” he mutters to no one but her, “we’ve got a mission. It’s just you and me.”

Isla makes a high-pitched noise that sounds suspiciously like a challenge.

He lifts her out of the stroller and lays her on the plastic fold-down changing table. There’s a sharp, undeniable moment where the smell really hits.

“Oh my God,” he chokes out, stepping back like she’s just let off a firework. “Isla-girl You need to warn someone.”

She squeals again, completely unfazed, waving both arms like she’s proud of her own work.

Harry grabs the wipes and the nappy from the bag, shaking his head as he peels back the tabs on her nappy like he’s defusing a bomb.

He glances down.

And immediately regrets it.

He holds his breath as best he can, wipes at the damage with the precision of someone trying to preserve their own soul.

“You know,” he continues, as she kicks and giggles and smears her heel in her own mess, “I was once in Vogue. Big photoshoot. Had a fan blowing my hair and everything.”

She grins, dummy falling from her mouth as she tries to grab a wipe mid-swipe.

“Don’t even think about it,” he warns, catching her hand just in time. “You’re covered in war crimes right now. Sit still.”

A couple more wipes, a very efficient nappy change, and then a swift round of I-hope-this-bin-is-secure later, he finally gets a clean nappy on and fastens the little tabs like a man finishing a marathon.

“There we go,” he says, lifting her carefully off the table and blowing a raspberry against her belly. “Fresh as a daisy. A very, very loud daisy.”

She laughs properly this time — that belly-deep baby giggle that scrunches up her whole face. It softens everything instantly.

Harry holds her close for a second, arms wrapped snug around her warm, wriggly little body. Her curls tickle his chin, and she still smells a bit like… well, baby wipes and betrayal. But it doesn’t matter.

He kisses the top of her head.

“You know what?” he murmurs. “I’d do this a hundred times a day. For you. Even the nuclear ones.”

She snuggles into his shoulder for a second, going still — those rare, rare moments when she melts into him, trusting and soft and tiny.

He closes his eyes.

“Don’t tell your mum I said this,” he whispers into her curls, “but you’re definitely my favourite today.”

Another happy squeak from her, and he pulls back with a grin.

“Alright, let’s go find them. Bet Georgie-boy is already neck-deep in fries.”

He straps her back into the stroller, wipes his hands one last time with a baby wipe (more out of psychological necessity than hygiene), and pushes the door open with his foot.

As they wheel back out into the buzz of the service station, he’s got one hand on the stroller, the other rummaging in the nappy bag for her dummy. He glances down at her, still smiling like she’s done nothing at all.

“Next one’s your mum’s turn,” he tells her.

🩵💕

The McDonald’s is its usual motorway kind of loud — chip trays clattering, the hiss of the drinks machine, toddlers crying over apple slices — but somehow, your little corner table by the window feels untouched by the chaos.

You’ve got Isla nestled in your arms, feeding peacefully under a soft muslin cloth. Her breathing is slow, her fingers curled gently into the fabric of your jumper, lashes resting against her cheeks. The noise doesn’t faze her — not now. She’s warm, content, milk-drunk and safe.

Across from you, Georgie is working his way through the last of his Happy Meal, chips dipped heavily in ketchup, mouth stained slightly red from his chocolate milkshake. Harry’s beside him, turned half toward you and half toward his son, one arm casually resting along the back of the bench seat.

“So,” Harry says, taking a sip of his Coke, “what film are we making Nana watch tonight?”

Georgie looks up, chip halfway to his mouth. “Can I pick?”

Harry nods. “Course you can. You’re the boss of film night. Big responsibility, though. Nana’s got high standards.”

Georgie thinks for a second, lips pursed. Then: “The Incredibles.”

You laugh softly. “Again?”

“It’s SO good,” Georgie insists, animated now. “The bit where Dash runs on water? That’s my favourite. I wanna run like that.”

Harry grins. “You already run like that, mate. All elbows and shouting.”

“I don’t shout, Daddy.”

Harry lifts a brow. “You literally narrated yourself jumping off the sofa yesterday like it was an action film trailer.”

Georgie breaks into a giggle. “Okay but that was for effect.”

You shake your head, gently shifting Isla as she finishes feeding. Her little mouth drops open, totally still now, head slumped against your chest in perfect baby exhaustion. You adjust her carefully, lifting the muslin and tucking her in close.

Harry catches the movement and glances over at you, softening immediately. “She’s out?”

You nod. “Gone. She was holding on for that last bit of milk but now she’s in another dimension.”

Harry smiles, then turns back to Georgie. “So, The Incredibles, yeah? Think Nana can handle all that superhero chaos?”

Georgie shrugs. “She likes when the baby turns into fire.”

“She did laugh at that last time,” Harry says, chuckling. “Said it reminded her of Isla when she gets overtired.”

You glance down at your sleeping daughter. “She’s not wrong.”

Georgie yawns — one of those big, sudden ones that takes him by surprise. He blinks a few times, then scoots along the bench seat without a word and climbs onto Harry’s lap, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Harry reacts instantly, arms folding around him, milkshake now slightly forgotten in the corner of the tray.

“Comfy?” he murmurs, brushing Georgie’s hair out of his eyes.

Georgie nods, curling slightly into his chest. Not quite asleep, but quiet now, calm. Winding down. Harry presses a soft kiss to his curls, resting his chin gently on his head.

You cradle Isla tighter against your chest and lean back in your seat, soaking in the moment. Across the table, your son is slowly blinking his way toward rest, safe in his dad’s arms. Your daughter is heavy and still in your own, a little milk bubble at the corner of her mouth.

Harry looks up at you, eyes soft, mouth tugging into the faintest smile.

By the time you’ve packed up the empty Happy Meal box, wiped ketchup from Georgie’s chin, and gathered the crumbs from the table (as best you can), both kids have slipped quietly into that sleepy, post-meal haze.

Isla’s completely gone — she started twitching in her sleep as soon as you tucked her back into the stroller, arms limp at her sides, dummy bobbing gently with each breath. Her curls are matted slightly at the back, her little legs splayed comfortably, one sock half-on like it always is.

Georgie made it to the end of his milkshake, mumbled something about The Incredibles 2, and then crawled fully into Harry’s lap, curling up like he’s four again instead of six.

Now he’s quiet against Harry’s chest, fingers gently playing with the soft ends of the hair at the nape of Harry’s neck — a little absentminded motion, slow and rhythmic. His eyes are half-lidded, and his face has that flushed, warm look that tells you he’s minutes from sleep but clinging on, just barely.

Harry’s got one arm tucked under Georgie’s legs and the other braced behind his back, holding him securely as he stands up from the bench. He shifts his son gently against his shoulder, resting Georgie’s head just under his chin.

“Got him?” you ask softly, already flicking the stroller brake off with your foot.

Harry nods, smiling faintly. “Yeah. He’s a koala.”

Georgie mutters something sleepily, his fingers still idly twisting that little curl of hair just behind Harry’s neck.

“I think he’s talking to your hair,” you whisper.

Harry grins. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

You push Isla ahead of you gently, one hand on the stroller, the other clutching the nappy bag that now feels twice as heavy as when you arrived. The walk back to the car is slower now — that content, end-of-the-day kind of slow. The sky outside is still overcast, but the light’s softer now, golden around the edges.

Harry walks beside you, Georgie snug in his arms, completely trusting, completely still.

“I can’t believe they both fell asleep,” you murmur.

Harry glances over. “Miracle. Honestly. We should buy a lottery ticket.”

You smile. “Or just come to service stations more often.”

He laughs under his breath. “Tempting. Nappy explosions and all.”

When you reach the car, it’s the quiet coordination of two tired but well-practiced parents. You pop the boot and start folding the stroller without needing to say anything. Harry opens the back door and lowers Georgie down gently, trying not to jostle him.

“Okay, come on, mate,” he murmurs softly, as Georgie clings a little tighter. “Nearly there.”

Georgie doesn’t answer, but he allows himself to be buckled in with minimal fuss, head rolling slightly to the side as Harry clicks the belt in place.

You join him at Isla’s side, lifting her from the stroller carefully and resting her against your shoulder. She lets out a tiny sigh, eyes still shut, body warm and relaxed.

“She’s so still when she sleeps,” you whisper. “Like a little rag doll.”

Harry smiles. “Unlike her dad.”

You slide her gently into the car seat and start adjusting the straps while Harry folds the last of the stroller and slides it into the boot.

When you both finally climb back into the front seats, doors closing with a quiet thud, the car feels different. Full, warm, quiet in the best way.

You glance into the mirror: Georgie’s already slumped sideways, mouth open just slightly. Isla’s dummy is still in, one hand curled against her cheek.

Harry looks at them through the rearview and then over at you, hand finding its place back on your thigh, right where it always goes.

“They’re completely out,” he says.

“Think we’ll actually get the rest of the drive in silence?”

He grins. “We deserve the rest of the drive in silence.”

You laugh, leaning your head against the window as he starts the engine again.

🩵💕

The motorway unfolds ahead like a ribbon of quiet now. The kids are asleep in the back — Georgie’s head tilted to the side, mouth slightly open, arms slack at his sides, and Isla curled in her car seat like a perfect comma, dummy still in, chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. The car is filled with the gentle hum of the engine and the soft lull of whatever acoustic song Harry put on before pulling out of the service station car park.

He’s driving one-handed, the other resting on your thigh again — instinctively, always. Your fingers are threaded together, and neither of you speaks for a long while. There’s no need.

The silence invites memory.

You stare out the window at the passing blur of trees, motor signs, long hedgerows, and let your mind wander — backward.

To him.

To meeting him, first. Not in some grand way — not a glittering stage or flash of paparazzi. Just a quiet moment. A regular day. A shared look. A conversation that lingered. That smile that felt like a slow unraveling. His voice, his softness, the way he saw you. The way he really looked. You never expected him. You didn’t plan for him. But he changed everything without even trying.

You think of the first time you knew. Knew you were in love with him. Not because he said something grand, but because he did something small — thoughtful, quiet, meaningful. It was always like that with him. The little things. Making you tea without asking. Waiting to leave because your favourite part of a film hadn’t finished. Pulling you close in the middle of a crowd, like you were the only one that mattered.

Then the wedding — your wedding. Small, personal. Not showy. Not anything for anyone else. Just the two of you and the people who really knew you. His hands shaking slightly when he held yours, his forehead pressed to yours when the ceremony ended and he whispered something only you could hear. You can’t even remember what it was now — only how it made you feel. Like the world had steadied around you.

And then… telling him you were pregnant with Georgie.

His face. You still remember it like it’s printed behind your eyelids. The silence at first. Not shocked. Just overwhelmed. Like the love had hit him all at once and he had nowhere to put it. The way he pulled you into him, arms wrapped so tightly around you, the sound of his laugh into your neck. Not the big stage kind of laugh — the real one. The one he gives when his heart is too full.

You remember the moment Georgie was placed in his arms — tiny, pink, squirming. And Harry looking at him like he’d never seen anything so important.

Then Isla. A whole different journey. The exhaustion, the nerves, the impossible joy. Watching Harry become a dad again, but in a deeper way. Softer. Surer.

And now, here you are. Two kids asleep in the back. The same Range Rover he drove you home from the hospital in. Your hand in his, just like the very first drive. Except everything’s different now.

Because this time, you know.

You know the weight of his love.

The stretch of time you’ve walked together.

The way your family looks in a rearview mirror.

🩵💕

About forty minutes roll by in silence, the motorway slowly giving way to country roads — narrower, winding, framed by low stone walls and endless fields. The light’s beginning to shift, mellowing into early evening gold, and there’s that gentle stillness in the car that only comes when both kids are asleep and neither of you dares break it.

Harry’s still driving one-handed, your fingers threaded loosely in his. Isla hasn’t stirred.

And then —

“Mama?”

It’s a groggy little voice from the back.

You turn your head slightly, meet Georgie’s sleepy eyes in the rearview.

“What is it, baby?”

He shifts a bit in his car seat, blinking hard. “I need a wee.”

You groan softly. “Of course you do.”

Harry lets out a breath, not taking his eyes off the road. “How bad is it, mate? Like, we’ve got half an hour left. Think you can wait?”

Georgie frowns. “I really need it.”

You twist to glance at him properly. He’s already doing the tell-tale knee-wiggle. “Yeah, he’s not bluffing.”

Harry sighs again, louder this time, pulling his hand from yours to tap the wheel. “Brilliant.”

“Don’t make him hold it, H. You remember what happened on the way to Brighton?”

Harry winces. “I just got the smell out of the car, don’t bring that up.”

You stifle a laugh. “Pull over if you see somewhere. We’re in farmland now anyway.”

Harry cranes his neck slightly, scanning the fields lining both sides of the road. “Alright, alright… come on, countryside, give us something useful…”

Georgie pipes up again, this time with urgency. “I’m actually really really bursting.”

“Alright, alright! Hold on, Captain Bladder,” Harry mutters, eyes flicking toward a narrow lay-by just ahead. “There. That’ll do.”

He swings the car gently into a grassy pull-off that backs onto a quiet hedgerow and a wide, open field. No cars, no buildings. Just nature, a few cows in the distance, and your son about to have an accident.

Harry shifts the car into park and unclips his seatbelt in one smooth motion. “Right, let’s go, buddy. Come on.”

He’s out of the car before you can offer to help, jogging around to Georgie’s door and opening it quickly. Georgie hops down, dancing slightly on the spot.

“I can’t wait!” he says.

Harry’s already taking his hand. “I know, I know. Come on. Let’s find a nice patch of grass to wee on, yeah?”

You watch from the front seat as they disappear just slightly behind a line of bushes, Harry crouching down a little beside him, clearly making it feel like more of an adventure than a bathroom emergency.

You shake your head, smiling to yourself.

A few moments later, they reappear, Georgie looking very pleased with himself and Harry walking back like a man who’s been through war but made it out the other side.

“All good?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

Harry opens the back door and buckles Georgie back in. “Crisis averted.”

Georgie nods solemnly. “That was the best wee I’ve ever had.”

You try not to laugh. “One for the memoirs.”

Harry gets back into the driver’s seat and shuts the door with a sigh. “I swear, we could write a parenting book just called ‘Where to Wee When There’s Nowhere to Wee.’”

You reach over and pat his thigh. “You did great, babe. Very heroic.”

He leans back, gripping the wheel again with both hands. “I deserve a medal. Or at least a biscuit when we get there.”

🩵💕

The road narrows into familiar countryside lanes, and your shoulders relax just a little when you spot the final left turn. You’ve driven this route enough times now that it almost feels automatic — the way Harry slows just before the bend, the way the driveway stones crunch under the tyres as the Range Rover rolls into the space just outside his mum’s house.

Georgie is instantly wide awake.

“We’re here!” he announces, kicking his legs in the back seat like he wasn’t just dead asleep twenty minutes ago.

Isla, meanwhile, remains completely knocked out in her car seat, dummy still in, one arm flopped across her face.

You glance through the windscreen. Anne’s already outside, standing at the top of the drive, arms folded and one hip cocked in a way that’s more rockstar than grandma.

She’s wearing cropped black trousers, a crisp oversized white shirt, chunky trainers, and her signature sunglasses — despite the fact the sun’s nearly dipped behind the trees.

“She’s in full fashion mode,” you murmur to Harry, smiling.

“She always is,” he replies, already turning off the ignition. “Bet you a tenner she’s got matcha in that flask.”

Before either of you even reach for your seatbelts, Anne’s already making her way down the path, pulling her sunglasses up onto her head.

She goes straight for Georgie’s side, opening the back door with one hand and grinning wide. “Oi, mister. You napped through most of my texts.”

Georgie beams. “I was tired!”

“Poor you,” she teases, unbuckling him with ease. “Bet this car smells like crisps and baby wipes.”

“It does,” Harry calls, stepping out of the driver’s side. “And one questionable nappy.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Anne says, helping Georgie hop down. “You can air it out later. Come here, trouble.”

Georgie runs straight into her arms and she scoops him up with a familiar groan, even though he’s getting big for it now.

“You smell like nuggets,” she says, sniffing his hair.

“McDonald’s!” he grins proudly.

“I knew it,” she laughs, hoisting him properly onto her hip. “You two spoil them every time.”

You meet Harry at the boot and grab the nappy bag, while he’s already making his way to Isla’s door, peering in at her peaceful face.

“She’s completely gone,” he says. “I hate waking her.”

“Yeah, but you also hate being up at 2 a.m. with her.”

Harry sighs, already reaching in. “Fair.”

He lifts her carefully, her little body heavy with sleep, cheek smooshed against his shoulder. She stirs slightly, lets out a tiny grumble, then settles again, dummy still bobbing softly in her mouth.

Anne’s waiting at the door, still holding Georgie, who’s now lazily twirling one of her hoop earrings between his fingers.

“Baby girl asleep?”

“Barely holding on,” Harry says.

“Well,” Anne smirks, turning to open the door wide with her free hand, “bring her in. I’ve got snacks, Peppa on standby, and wine chilled. Priorities.”

You follow them up the path with a grin. “You’re a saint.”

Anne laughs over her shoulder. “I know. I’m also Nana of the year. Tell everyone.”

Georgie giggles, already wriggling to get down and run into the living room, shouting, “I want the red bowl!”

[yamumsyadadd]

anxiety

Mentions of cheating, sex (nothing graphic)

There was a level of anxiety that came with a new relationship. You and alexia were still learning each other. How to make space for someone extra in your life and in your heart. 

She hadn’t met your children as your girlfriend yet, you wanted to be really really sure before throwing in another person. Leah had introduced her multitude of girls. But everytime a new one was introduced, Oscar would be more confused and you, ultimately, had to deal with his behaviour. 

You were only four months into your relationship and you were beginning to worry. There had been no sex, no hint at sex, no talks of sex. Nothing. You wanted it, so badly, but you were scared. 

You had two kids now, breastfed both of them and overall just aged. Your body had changed, a change that most the time you welcomed but then you remembered what Leah had told the marriage counsellor. 

You found out Leah was cheating completely by accident. Her phone was lighting up constantly while she was putting your son to bed in his nursery. Just like many times before, you decided to look at her phone.  

Without thinking about it, you opened the messages. You felt sick immediately. Your wife, your beautiful loving attentive wife, was messaging another woman. Not just any woman. A teammate.   

Jordan fucking Nobbs. Someone you also considered a friend. 

As you read through the messages, some which were just mundane team things, but the ones about your body, or the insecurities that you had expressed to Leah about being a mother - those hurt.

But then it got worse. If that was somehow possible. Leah would complain about your body, the way the stretch marks on your stomach and boobs turned her off. As if you hadn’t spent the last 18 months growing and feeding your child. 

You didn’t know what to do with this information. It hurt to even think about ending your marriage to Leah.

You were only eight months postpartum. Oscar hadn’t even been earthside for as long as he’d been growing inside of you. And yet, Leah had moved on while you were still together. She was telling Jordan she loved her, while saying the same thing to you. 

She’d pretend to worship your body when you had sex, only to then express her repulsion to Jordan. 

It took an hour before you burst. You couldn’t stop the tears even if you wanted to  Leah never denied it, instead she turned the blame onto you. The way you were always busy with the foundation, your son or dealing with the house renovations. As if that made it okay to cheat. 

Marriage counselling started two weeks later. You could barely look at Leah after she said she not longer found you attractive. 

“Before Oscar she was fit. Her boobs were perfect, she was perfect. And now?” She waved her hand around, “well now she’s not.” 

It stuck with you. It’s been two years since she said that and your brain remembered it at the worst time. 

Alexia wasn’t Leah though. You knew that, logically but the damage was still there. A conversation with alexia was well overdue no matter how much anxiety it caused. 

It was one of those rare days where the foundation paper work was slow, alexia was free in the afternoon and your two kids were happily playing with their friends at daycare. 

You’d planned to have a quick coffee with Miriam and then see Alexia before she had an event that night. 

Even though Miriam was also one of Alexia’s best friends, she was usually very diplomatic when it came to your relationship. She was there for you, not for alexia in that moment.  

She was your go to for relationship help because you knew she would keep the secret, she’d tell you the truth without sugar coating it and help you whenever you needed. 

“Alexia and I haven’t had sex.” Miriam barely reacted. 

“I know.” 

“You know?” You raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Yes.” The diplomacy in moments like this annoyed you. 

“So Alexia has said something then.” Miriam just shrugged. “She’s said something to you but not be me?” 

“She’s said about as much as you have.” You knew that meant she had barely spoken about it. 

You decided it was safer to change the subject. You needed to talk to alexia and only alexia. 

Subtlety wasn’t your strong suit. You had barely made it into her apartment before you blurted it out. 

“Why won’t you have sex with me?” 

Alexia was taken aback. “What?” 

“Do you not find me sexual attractive? If that’s the case just let me know.” 

“No no! I do! You’re beautiful and I lov-like you a lot.” 

“Okay then what?” Alexia didn’t reply so you just kept going, “I have only ever been with Leah. It that is? Or is it that I have two kids and my body has changed? I know it’s changed. Leah reminded me all the time but I didn’t expect you-“

“Stop.” You stopped and looked at alexia, she looked hurt, maybe a little scared but mainly hurt. “I don’t care that you’ve only been with Leah. Yes obviously your body has changed because you grew and fed two babies. It’s not because of the way you look, or anything like that. I was waiting for you.” 

“For me?” You pointed at yourself, wide eyed and confused. 

“Yes amor. I’ve been waiting for you to be ready, to tell me or initiate. I was waiting because I know you’ve only been with Leah. You were with her for ten years and now you aren’t. I didn’t expect you to want to jump into bed with me on the first date.” 

You were speechless for a moment, “oh. Sorry.” 

You sat on the couch next to Alexia, letting you pull you into her. “You’re so silly sometimes.” 

“You wanna have sex?” Alexia laughed. The sweet laugh that you had fallen in love with. 

“Yes of course. But not tonight. If you’re ready then I want to make it special.” She kissed your temple and pulled you into closer. 

And special it was. 

There was no pressure, not need to feel anxious or scared. 

Alexia took care of you. Slowly and lovingly. She worshipped your body in a way you’d never experienced before. 

Somewhere in the middle of it, you confessed that you loved her and she did the same. It solidified your role in her life. 

The next huddle would come in the form of meeting her family. 

[heazueken]

Well Needed Fix

*ೃ༄ summary: Volt's a bit worried that Eddie may be falling back into some old habits since you three got together and he has an idea..

warning(s): MDNI, explicit sexual content, vaginal fingering, oral sex, voyeurism

pairing(s): EddiexVoltxReader (AFAB, gender neutral)

w/c; 8.4k

a/n: would you believe me if I told you this was supposed to be like 3k words max LOL google docs says this is 17 pages...OKAYYYY. I cant stop yapping unfortunately...anyway my requests are open btw if you want me to write more of these guys! Please enjoy!!

-

You’re sitting with Volt at the bar of the Breaker Box after a wild night of more of the objects crazy antics and performances. Volt had poured you a simple soda at your request and he wipes down the counters, lost in thought. His hair jolts with electricity and he tosses it over his shoulder. He’s stripped of his large jacket— having draped it over your chair (you can still feel the warmth radiating from it). His sleeves are rolled up to the elbows and his vest hugs much tighter around his waist than Eddie’s. He’s humming a god-awful tune that Johnny Splash had decided to subject the audience to but hearing him hum it almost made it better than the original. 

Volt breaks the silence.

“Y’know, Live wire,” you pause, holding your glass up to your lips and glance up at the man leaning across the bar. You set it down when you see his knit brows and troubled gnawing of his bottom lip.

“I’ve been thinking…about some things since our whole…debacle a couple weeks back.” 

You know he’s referring to that night. Eddie, almost to tears, refusing to let Volt go. Forcing a shut down on the power— a restart. The lights going out, darkness enveloping you only for them to flick back on and see the two of them still standing there. Your two boys, still together and now together with you. 

Ice clinks to the bottom of your glass as you set it down on a coaster. Arms fold across the bar and you look up at the man who towers over you.

“Thinking…?” 

He tosses a rag over his shoulder, he stares off to the side, eyes almost flickering like a bulb ready to be changed. 

“I know we’ve— you’ve helped Eddie take a load off— in more ways than one, I might add,” He teases, relieving some of the tension he knew you were holding. “But, I’ll be honest, love…He’s still working himself to the bone. I’m scared he’ll go back to his old ways.”

You see the pain in his face, the way his chin drops almost completely to his chest. He gently lays a few fingertips where his shirt exposes the white skin of his chest.

“Us being…connected in such a way. I can feel his anxiety, frustration, pridefulness and…” He lets his hand drop. “His fear, too.”

Perplexed, you cock your head, you hope he meets your gaze but once you ask, Volt almost completely turns away from you.

“Fear? What does Eddie have to be afraid of?”

He’s quiet for a good moment. Sparking hair flows like rays of lightning down his shoulders and over his back and you see it change into a more blue hue before you hear him take a full deep breath as it fades back to his bright white. He turns to you again, a sad smile drawn across his face but you can see in his eyes that the smile does not reach there.

“Afraid of being vulnerable? Afraid of being the one that deserves love? Afraid to accept that love?”

You can’t say you’re too shocked. You knew there was a part of Eddie that’s much less…well, eccentric than his counterpart. That was almost the point of Volt though, let him have the spotlight so Eddie can keep the club up and running. He just didn’t expect that this birth (he hates you using that word but what else is it?!) would almost add more pressure to his already stressful life.

You know he doesn’t resent Volt for all this. No, he cares too much about him— that much was true considering the way he reacted to the possibility of losing his other half forever. 

You always wondered why that— besides the night you two officially got together— Eddie barely participated in the more sexual aspects of your relationship. Almost afraid to touch you and Volt, stepping away when a kiss was planted on your lips by the lightning haired man, or even making excuses as to why he couldn’t join you both on the bed during the early morning hours of the club’s closure. 

“I gotta get the club ready for tonight,” he grumbled, shrugging on his vest and clearly bothered with something. You always want to ask and fix it immediately, looking to Volt who reads your expression easily when Eddie is out the door.

“He’ll be fine, my spark. He just needs some time.”

You usually were able to get a word in after closure, but Eddie would excuse you away, flicking his bruised hand. Yes, you did notice the bruises, even more than there were when you first met. It worries you and you grow as concerned as Volt.

You run the tip over your finger over the rim of your glass, staring into the melting cubes of ice. 

“Yeah…I can see that.” You look up. “Finally tired of dismissing it? You two are so cryptic sometimes.”

Volt sighs, his chest falling with the release of air and he stumbles back around the bar to sit next to you. He scoots the stool so close that his shoulder brushes yours. Even after being skin-to-skin and having him whispering filthy things in your ear, you still feel that flip of your stomach and burst of butterflies. He wraps an arm around you, leaning in a way where his hair creates a barrier so no one can eavesdrop on your conversation— not like there was anyone around anyway.

“I’m protective. There’s a difference.”

“I think we’re passed being protective considering I’m in a relationship with you both, don't you think?” 

Volt gives you a look, his eyebrows tilt in an apologetic way, lips parting to begin his speech you’ve heard tons of time. You place a hand on your chest and mockingly lower your voice to match his pitch and accent before he can even get the words out.

“My live wire, it’s simply different between me and Eddie. We need not your worry for our concern. Nothing against you, of course.” You match a wink just as he does every time.

He’s clearly taken aback and you almost see the hint of a smirk on his lips.

“Took the words right out of my mouth, spark.”

It’s not funny this time. You almost want to shove him away, your elbow digs into his pec and he backs off just a little— perhaps taking the hint.

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t make me feel like I’m part of this relationship.”

He seems confused, brows knit together and you don’t like seeing a frown on his face but it’s what you feel.

“I don’t like that you guys still hide stuff from me. I get that we’re still getting to know each other, but I feel like I should be able to help emotionally in a relationship,” You get up to leave, hopping off the stool after successfully elbowing Volt’s arm from around you.

Before you can even take two steps, he grabs your wrist.

“Y/N,” It shocks you so much to hear him say your name that you whip your head around to stare with wide eyes. Volt looks…sad…you’ve never seen him like this since that night. You turn around, wrist still in his hand. When he realizes you’re not going anywhere, his grip loosens but he doesn’t let go. “Forgive me. It’s why I called you here tonight.“ He curses to himself, you feel him squeeze your hand as if to comfort himself. He looks up at you with those glowing, pleading eyes. 

“For amp’s sake, live wire, I didn’t mean to start anything.” 

He sounds breathless, his cheeks tinge red with shame. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t gentlemanly of me to start something with you… you of all people…I’m sorry.” He repeats and this time he attempts to drop your hand but this time you’re clutching it, weaving your fingers together and pressing your palm against his. They’re clammy. You never see Volt like this.

You take a step forward. “What’s wrong, Volt?” You tilt your head in a way where he’s forced to look at you. His face is all angles and shadow now, ashamed of his combative behavior and embarrassed that you seem to shrug it off like a jacket, like it doesn’t even matter. You reach a hand up and cup his cheek, there’s a whirring of electricity that sparks across his skin and to your palm. It’s warm and comforting, like he’s pressing his hand onto yours to hold it there for longer. He looks to you apologetically.

“Forgive me. Eddie needs me— as much as he likes to argue he doesn’t. But I’m not enough to get through to him. I need your help this time but I’m such a stubborn ass that I picked a fight…please, forgive me.” 

He’s pained, clearly hurt by his own words directed towards you.

“It’s been just me and him for so long…We’re both still getting used to letting someone else see just how faulty we are,” He chuckles, trying to make light of the situation. You lean in to place a tender kiss on his lips.

“Say the idea you’ve got already, damn it,” You press your forehead to his, scrunching your nose playfully when he finally meets your eyes. They’re bright and loving, a warmth permeates between you both and he tilts his face, slotting his lips back to yours for another sensual kiss. He breaks it before it can get too intense.

“I wanted you to talk to him…”

You quirk a brow. “That’s it?” Volt’s cheeks flush and you’ve rarely ever seen him embarrassed.

“No…no…I want you to…I need you to— oh, for amp’s sake…” His head falls into his hand and he pushes back the streaks of light that is his hair. His entire face is flushed all the way down to his neck, he swipes at his cheeks with one hand hoping it’ll calm down the color. It doesn’t.

“I have an idea…you get him alone and…” He smirks, looking off to the stage of the club. His jaw is carved well and you watch his adam’s apple bob as he tries to maneuver his words into a coherent sentence. You stay silent and patient.

“I have an idea that I think would help him. You and him…get alone and well…you show him how appreciated he is…catch my drift, live wire?” It’s like the anxiety has completely melted off him in seconds. His voice lowers and becomes sultry once more, purring in your ear and it’s already enough to get you fidgety in your seat. But what he’s proposing…

“What about you?”

“I always get you to myself. I think it’s Eddie’s turn.”

You wipe your hands nervously across your thighs. “Yeah, but…Why not both of you?”

Volt waves a dismissive hand. “As much as I enjoy you both, I wouldn’t mind giving you to Eddie for a night or two. No quarrels here!”

You consider this, mulling over the conversation with Volt as you both continue pouring drinks.

When you find Eddie it’s within the late late hours of the night. Everyone is asleep so you sneak your way to the entrance of the club door, the neon light that usually blinks the establishment's name is off, indicating its closure. Eddie’s inside the bar when you take a quick peek inside after noticing the door was unlocked, you knew he liked to work at night, you just didn’t think it was this late he’d be awake.

He notices you the moment the door opens. He downs the rest of his hard liquor, barely flinching at the taste but his brows still crease and he rinses the glass.

“What are you doing awake, spark?” He sounds exhausted— like usual but there’s a tinge of something else you can’t put your finger on. It almost feels like the first few encounters you both had when first meeting. 

You stroll in, shutting the door behind you with a click and making your way to the bar that he stood behind. You take a seat at the stool you claimed earlier that day and you lean both elbows on the bar.

“Couldn’t sleep. Wanted to see Volt…and you.” You see the end of his eyebrow twitch at the mention and he sighs, pouring two shots in quick succession. He downs his before sliding you the short glass. Confused, you finger the rim for a moment, you don’t look at Eddie.

“What’s up with you?” 

“Nothing.” His tone sounds like a bark and hurts you like a bite. You don’t like this tone with him, this wasn’t the usual playful standoffish demeanor he had worn before. This was genuine irritation.

You down your glass too.

“Volt’s worried about you,” you speak plainly, no beating around the bush, no avoiding the topic of one another this time. Things are different now, right? All three of you are together now and you can actually function like a normal relationship, right? That’s how things should be.

“Yeah, well, I’m fine.” Eddie turns so his back is to you. Despite the tension, you can’t help but admire the beauty that is his large frame. He’s slightly shorter than Volt but his shoulders are wider, more defined from hours of working on keeping this club alive and working. His biceps flex under the tight material of his button up while he hastily cleans the shot glasses; once done, he throws the rag over his shoulder just as Volt does and turns around. He pushes back his hair and leans against the sink, you try to avoid letting your eyes wander because you know he’ll notice. 

You let them anyway and see a tint of blush dust across his cheeks. He pouts.

“Volt has nothing to be worried about.”

You let out a breathy laugh, sarcastic and dry. 

“Right,” you point to his clearly bruised hands. “It doesn’t look like you’ve been easy on yourself, Eddie.” He glances down at his hand and sighs, clicking his tongue in an annoyed way. He pulls the rag from his shoulder and covers both hands, rubbing them vigorously as if that would remove the evidence. You get up then, rounding the bar before he can even plan an escape. Your hands reach on either side of the bar, caging him in. Eddie had begun his getaway but was too late.

“Live wire,” He warns, “Let me leave.”

“Let me see your hands.” He keeps rubbing them.

“No.” 

You grab his wrist and he tries to pull away, his face contorting into one of anger but when you catch his eyes you see something akin to shame. Your fingers barely wrap around his thick wrist but you manage to tug the cloth off his hand.

They’re rough, just as they always are. Burns and bruises decorate his skin and callous over, your fingers delicately brush over them and Eddie is pulling them away and sticking them into his pockets. He says your name in a stern tone.

“Let me leave.” Taken aback for a moment at his tone, you hold his gaze for a few seconds, waiting to see if he’d relax, look to the side to sigh and apologize. But no, his face turns more red, his chin trembles and he holds his ground. Well, two can play at that game.

“Just tell me what’s up and I’ll let you go.”

His eyes plead for you to let him go, his hands escape their pockets and ball into fists at his sides. You can see a spark of blue in his eyes, one of anger you’re sure but that doesn’t scare you. He doesn’t scare you in the slightest anymore. 

“Why the fuck do you push and push, hm? Is it like your job now?” His words are venom and meant to hurt you and they do, but you’re stronger than that.

You point at him. “You have no right to speak to me that way.“ Your tone softens and your arms reach out to invite his vulnerability. “I’m equally as worried, Eddie. Me and Volt. I can’t have you overworking yourself again…please.” 

“I can do what I damn well please, little wire! I don’t need you or Volt worrying about me,” He shoo’s you away with a hand. “Go back to him and fuck, why don’t you? Leave me alone.”

Wow. You flinch at his words, unnerved by his tone and words.

“What? What is this really about, Eddie?”

He puts his hands on his hips, glaring at you with a malice you’ve never seen. “Volt is clearly better than me. That…that job is for him. Not me,” He places a hand over his chest, his jaw clenches. “You deserve Volt, Y/N. I only bring down the mood.”

“That is not true,” You say, your voice instantly getting softer. You should have seen it; the way he pulls away, the way he can’t seem to look as Volt steals a kiss from you, the way he pulls away when you try to touch him. It’s so clear now.

“Eddie,” you step closer, testing the water. Eddie doesn’t falter but instead rubs a hand at the back of his neck and looks down at his feet. He has nowhere to go anyway. “You know that’s not true, right?” Another step, you’re much closer, closer than he’d like you to be and he avoids your gaze still.

His flinches when your hand reaches at his side. It’s almost instant, the way his hand seems to unravel and let you slot your fingers between his. His eyes screw shut, knowing how calloused and rough they are. When you squeeze, he has to pretend like the bruises don’t hurt under the pressure, he doesn’t care really because despite everything he still craves for it.

You’re both silent. He doesn’t dare say a word and you study his face— the way the strands of wires that form his hair frame his face, the red wires complimenting his skin tone. The way his jaw tenses when you step even closer and he feels your body heat. You see his cheeks turn red just slightly.

“Say it,” You gently push. He wants to pull away, hide in his corner until you finally take the hint and leave but he knows you won’t.

“It’s not true…” He says gently, barely cracking his eyes open. His chin is nestled to his chest and he stares down at the shoes of yours. He seems so…small like this— finally admitting defeat.

“That’s right,” You confirm, finally you reach out again and this time he has no choice but to accept it. He won’t tell you that it’s really what he’s been craving for weeks now because, well…

“Will you please tell me what’s wrong? I thought I told you that you wouldn’t be alone anymore.”

He continues to stare at the floor and his eyes flutter shut at the comfort of your warm hand caressing his forearm.

“I…you deserve Volt. He’s clearly better than me.”

Huh?

Your eyes widen at the confession. “Eddie…what? Where did you come up with that?”

Eddie grumbles, running a hand through his wires again and pushing them back, he holds his hand at his neck and finally dares to look down at you. His silver eyes bare a foreboding sadness, you can see the disappointment in his eyes.

“I’m not good with…any of that shit. That’s Volt’s job…he’s the more outgoing one, the handsome one. He’s the better part of me. I’m only good behind the scenes, hidden away and working…”

You instantly shake your head before he even finishes.

“Eddie, no. None of that is right. What makes you think I only want Volt.”

Eddie shrugs. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe all the side glances you make to him even when I’m there, the way you two hold hands at every given chance. The way he kisses you and you kiss back—“ He seems to grow more irritated as he continues. “You always seem happier in his company rather than mine. The way you two will continue when I leave—“ His voice shakes for a moment and you feel his hand tremble under your hold. 

“Eddie—“

“It’s just clear that you and Volt found each other and I can go back to working my ass off.”

“Eddie—!”

“I’m clearly not good enough, you know? All I’m good for is keeping the power on and letting you two go at it like rabbits—“

You grab him by the shoulders and shake him like a ragdoll. Finally he shuts up.

“Eddie! Stop! Stop saying those things!” 

He’s warm, his eyes flicker with spikes of electricity and you think he’ll blow a fuse judging by the straining vein that stretches across his forehead. Eddie looks hurt, he looks at you expectantly, like you’ll finally call it quits here and walk out of his life. You’re sick of him at this point, right?

“I don’t think those things. I don’t feel how you’re accusing me of feeling. I don’t only have feelings for Volt.”

“But he’s the only one that deserves you.”

Your heart breaks. Eyes begin to water and you place both hands over his chest, your fingers weave into the buttons of his vest and you feel his quickened heartbeat.

“You deserve me too. Do you really think I was sticking around to see Volt every night?” Eddie looks off to the left, his eyes staring towards the stage. He shuffles on his feet.

“Yeah, kinda…”

You give him a sad smile. “You’re so fucking stupid,” you playfully pat a fist over his chest and Eddie looks down at you offended. “I was worried about you, you fool! Give me a little attitude and I’m determined to make that shell crack,” you snicker and your eyes beam at the slight lift of the corner of Eddie’s lips.

“Why me, though?” He asks genuinely. 

“Why not you?”

He motions to himself. “I’m not exactly the most appealing, little spark.” It’s ridiculous how he can act like he isn’t one of the sexiest objects in the house, like he isn’t the reason why you have two wonderful boyfriends now and the very foundation of the working house, giving each object a purpose in life and giving them said life he powers.

You let your hands wander then, taking in the sight of Eddie’s body tensing at the sensual touch, his eyebrows twitching and cheeks burning. You can feel the electricity coursing through his veins when your bare fingers find the base of his exposed neck and you encircle your hands around them, sliding your body close so your chest-to-chest with him. Fingers card through his hair and his mouth twitches when he speaks, his voice low and curious.

“What are you…doing?” 

“Admiring what’s mine?” You say it so simply, so easily that Eddie can’t seem to comprehend it. He finds a hand lifting and placing it on your waist. There’s a start.

“I’m yours, huh? What, I’m some panel of electricity only made for your pleasure? Is that what you’re saying?” You hook your wrist together, caging him there and his back leans into the wall. You shrug.

“If I said yes?”

“I’d say you’d get electrocuted,” His voice grumbles in his chest and there’s a shiver that runs down your entire body at the sound of it. You wiggle a brow at him.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Eddie.”

He laughs. It's genuine and refreshing to hear after not having it bless your ears the past few weeks. His eyes glisten with a newfound gladness and you take pride in knowing you helped create that in him.

“Is Volt giving you pick up lessons?” He places his other hand on your waist, his palms find comfort on your body and you begin to rock gently side to side.

“You weren’t supposed to know that,” You tease, tapping your lips with your index finger. Eddie chuckles and he runs his tongue over his bottom lip.

“What else am I not supposed to know? What else is he having you hide from me?” His fingers tease at the hem of your shirt and you feel your own cheeks flush. You play with the ends of one of his strands of hair, poking your finger against the exposed wire.

“Nothing…just that…he wanted me to—“ you cover your mouth and mumble the rest of your confession. Childlike mischief dances across your face and Eddie’s eyes close half lidded—unamused. He pulls your close, turning his head to hold his ear closer to your mouth.

“Didn’t quite catch that.” 

You giggle, Eddie smiles. “He wanted me to try and convince you to—“ another muffle, but Eddie is already grabbing your wrist and forcing it off your mouth. You belly laugh, doubling over when you try to fight back and fail horribly. You’re definitely not as strong as he is and he’s quickly turning you around and pushing you against the wall. He pins your wrist against the wall on either side of your head. Everything stops when you two look at each other, amusement playing across both your faces until you feel his thigh press between your legs.

He’s handsome like this, inches from your face, holding you and staring down at you with those halflidded eyes. His mouth parts slightly when it goes quiet and he lets his gaze flicker down to your lips. He licks his own.

“Convince me to what?” 

You don’t try to play this time. “Convince you to have sex with me.”

Eddie chuckles, “Volt thinks I should get my dick wet to relieve my stress?” 

You can’t really argue with that, “Well, it could help.” 

He stares at you for a couple moments, you feel like you’re being evaluated while his eyes roam across your features, tracing the lines of every piece of your face and settling for a good while on your lips before flitting them back up to your eyes.

“Yeah…I think it could help,” He sounds actually genuine this time, taking the advice into consideration as silly as it seemed. He pulls away to rub at his scruff, the sound of his rough hands on the stiff hair tingles the back of your neck and you have the urge to rub your cheek against it.

“I have a better idea,” He says thoughtfully. “How ‘bout— are you free tomorrow night?” 

You stare at him with an unamused expression. “You really think I have anything else planned besides being at home and rotting away?” Eddie chuckles, breathy and warm and you smell the whiskey on his breath. His hand slides up your waist and cups the side of your ribs, he gently presses the pads of his fingers into the muscles and it takes everything in you to not moan at the touch. He can see the effect it has on you, however and he gives you a knowing smirk.

“How about instead of rotting away in bed, you come meet me tomorrow night after the show. I’ll show you something, yeah?”

His entire demeanor has changed. Confidence permeates the air around him suddenly, his eyes seem to darken with want and it makes your stomach flutter with an excitement you haven’t felt in Lord knows how long. You’re eager, nodding your head and your jaw slack slightly. Eddie—amused, laughs again, his eyes shutting and nose crinkling. His crow feet are something to be admired and the way he cups your chin with his thumb and forefinger to shut your mouth has you blushing red.

“Thanks for the ego boost, live wire.” He presses a soft kiss to your cheek and you finally get that chance to feel his scruff. “I owe you one.”

You finally let him slip past this time. The sound of his  footsteps receding as you try to conceptualize just what he’s planning for tomorrow.

The club is once again closed when you head on over to the Breaker Box. Pushing up your dateviators curiously, you knock once, twice on the metal door. 

It creaks open, revealing Eddie. He looks much less worn out than usual. His hair is still shaggy and eyes 

 littered with lack of sleep, but for the most part there seems to be more color in his face and a gleam in his eyes that you can only say looks a little like mischief. You wave a hand hello and he opens the door further.

His vest is off, only adorning his white button up and it’s certainly not buttoned all the way. His wife ringlets around his neck still hang there and the collar of the shirt lays easily across his collar bones. You see chest hair peeking out of the shirt and you have to stop your eyes from wandering too far.

“Come on in,” He nods his invitation and the heavy door creaks and clangs closed behind you. The lights are dimmed, most off and you can barely see the stage without them on. But there’s a little shadow of the microphone where Johnny usually is, subjecting everyone to his demos. The bar is also barely lit, backlights highlight the glass on shelves, creating rainbows of light to dance across the countertop. Eddie takes you over, one hand on the small of your back to lead you over to your stool.

“Want a drink?” He holds up a shot glass he’s already prepared.

You look at him with an eyebrow raised. “Trying to loosen me up?”

He looks at it, then at you. “Well, I sure as hell need it. You mind if I…?”

“Please, go ahead. Just don’t get drunk on me. Already had to deal with a passed out Volt after I left last night.” You had found Volt, drunk and asleep, cuddling up with Betty on your bed, drooling over her breast. You settle on the stool and watch Eddie down the shot in one go. He places the glass on the counter and pours another.

“Yeah, thanks for handing him to me.” Eddie rolls his eyes at the memory of having to carry him back to the club.

Looking around, you notice something.

“Speaking of which. Where is Volt?”

Eddie doesn’t say a thing, instead he throws back another drink and finally rinses it, cleans it and places it back on the rack. He wipes his hands dry with a washcloth.

“Upstairs. You wanna see him?”

That sounds…ominous, the way he slowly releases the words— almost nervous to ask you. Afraid you’ll say yes. But when you look up at him he’s got this evil smile, a smug look in his eye.

“Eddie…what did you do?” He laughs at that and jabs a thumb to the stairs that lead up to their living quarters. You follow him.

He places his hand on the doorknob, turning it slowly while he places his index finger on his lips, shushing you silently. When the door opens, you hear Volt before you see him.

“This is just cruel now, Eddie, really. What have I done to deserve such treatment?” Eddie pushes you inside with a swift move, tripping on the threshold, you stumble into the bedroom where sitting in a rusty chair is Volt. You catch your balance as you take in the slight.

He’s clothed (surprisingly) but his hands are behind the back of the chair, a thick line of wire is digging into his clothes, cupping his chest. His ankles, also tied, force him to spread his legs and he struggles against his restraints. Hair falls into his face when he tries to jerk out of the confines Eddie clearly placed him in and when he tosses his head back to throw his hair back over his shoulder— he catches you.

“Live wire!” He exclaims, realization hitting him and you all at once. “That’s what this is, Eddie? Showing off?” Volt would almost look angry if it wasn’t clear that he was extremely proud of Eddie at this moment.

“What—?” You can’t finish your question before Eddie is grabbing your shoulder and pushing you to the bed. The strength in his grip alone leaves you gasping and there’s a pang of pleasure that makes the hairs on your arms stand on end. An electrifying excitement. 

“Thought it was my turn for a little fun this time,” He says cooly. “Better to give my other half a show while I have my way with our little spark, right?” Eddie flashes Volt a toothy smile before he begins unbuttoning his shirt. You lean back on your elbows on the bed, your eyes watching Eddie before switching over to Volt who’s staring at you with a knowing grin. 

Well done, live wire. You can practically hear it as he mouths the words. You bring your legs up and squeeze your thighs together with a glee and arousal. 

Eddie’s body is toned— where Volt is practically hairless albeit except the white happy trail that begins at his belly button— Eddie is covered. Hair dusts over his chest and travels down his entire torso, his pants hang low enough where you can see the beginning of his lower pelvic region. Soft lines point to where you can see the natural shape of him in his pants. His skin flushes under the dimmed lights when he tosses the shirt to the side and feels both pairs of eyes on him, raking down and up. Volt holds back his tongue for once, letting Eddie have the spotlight for tonight. 

The bed shifts when he places a knee on it, reaching and grabbing your ankle. Eddie tugs with one swift motion and you’re pulled to the edge of the bed, just a few feet from where Volt sits in the chair. You look to Volt for a moment when Eddie’s hands slide over your clothed thigh.

“Don’t look at him,” He says with a bite that almost sounds like anger. The lights soften the hard edges of his face but that gaze is equally as sharp and ten times more intense. Your eyes are glued to him then.

His hand slips under your shirt, fingertips hot against your skin and they press when it reaches the edge of the plump flesh on your chest. He squeezes gently, eyes glued to your face to see what expression you’ll conjure. His thumb swipes over your nipple and it’s hardening under his touch. Your eyes flutter shut, leaning back on your hands and letting your spine arch at the pleasure. Volt was always soft, sometimes too soft and delicate but Eddie’s already proving to be a beautiful contrast to his partner. You let your lips part in a sigh.

He pinches your nipple with his forefinger and thumb, there’s a jolt of electricity and it drives a yelp out of you. The pain quick to hit and just as quick to evaporate. You let out a needy moan then, letting your legs separate and scoot closer to Eddie— hoping he’ll pick up the sign that you want more of whatever that was.

Eddie’s other hand shoves your shirt up, exposing you to the chilly air and Volt’s piercing stare. The arousal increases in the room for every party. You hear the chair creak under Volt’s weight when he shimmies his wrists in his bindings. You look down, daring to open your eyes when you feel warm breath at the center of your chest between your breasts.

“More?“ Eddie lets out with a breath. You nod your head, his fingers pinch harder just a little. “Say it.” 

“M-more…please.” You add the polite request at the end, hoping it would please him. It certainly does because his tongue is pressing to your breast, starting the underside and sliding up to your hardened peak. He circles the tip of his tongue around a few times before letting his lips capture the rest in his mouth. Your hand finds its way to his hair, gripping the strands as he sucks more of your skin into your mouth. His own eyes flutter shut for a moment and you’re able to admire the way his eyelashes lay against his warm skin. He’s pretty like this— he always is but seeing the content on his face has the tips of your ears reddened and warm. 

He pulls away, letting a bridge of spit connect from your nipple to his bottom lip that’s become plump and red. He swipes his thumb over it, breaking the bridge and beginning a slow, wet circle around your other breast. Eddie looks up at you through his lashes and he leans in close, pressing his face into your neck. You gasp, mouth agape and already getting dry.

“Mmmmh,” He mumbles, “So soft,” his lips graze your neck, tongue sliding out to press against your quickened pulse. His teeth sink in slowly, not enough to break skin but enough to leave a slight indent. He suckles the sensitive skin there, it pinches and hurts but it sits so close to pleasure that you can’t differentiate between the two. You let out another moan, hips moving on their own accord.

Volt groans himself, eyebrows pinched together and pulling at the wires as he watches his lovelies neglect his pleasure. He’s hard— rock hard in his pants but there’s no release for him. 

“Eddie…” You breath, hand grasping the back of his neck. He grumbles into your neck before releasing you and soothing over his third hickey with his tongue. He pulls away, hair a mess, eyes droopy with want, hands trembling with excitement as he looks over your aroused state while he figures out what to do next. So much he wants to do…

He pushes your shirt completely off, it’s awkward and it tangles with your limbs but you managed to pull it off, now the two of you half exposed. Volt’s eyes seem to bulge out of his skull and he babbles something about how beautiful you two look. Eddie gives him a sideways glance that shuts him up. 

You lift your hips when Eddie begins to hook his fingers into your pants, peeling them off and letting his calloused fingertips slide across silky skin. He slides them to your inner thighs once your pants lay in a heap on the floor and he’s pushing your knees apart until they nestle on the blankets beneath you. He lets out a longing sigh after holding his breath, revealing the goldmine of your wet heat. Eddie looks in wonder, mouth watering at the sight and he can’t seem to figure out what to do first for a couple seconds. A curious thumb buries into the hair on your pubic bone and he pulls the skin upward, unveiling your plump clit. It twitches under his cooling breath.

He lowers his head.

Eddie lets his mouth cup over your mound, his tongue peeking out to swipe, flat and wide to cover the entire surface. He moans with you in his mouth, vibrating the area and your legs fight against the strong hold he keeps on your thighs to keep them separated. Your hips buck at the sensation, unable to control the roll of mind numbing pleasure that feels like warm water enveloping you from toes to shoulders. 

Eddie sighs, breaking the suction on your clit to swipe his tongue up and down with a precision and movement only he is capable of. He barely peeks over to Volt before he’s replacing his tongue with his two forefingers, watching your hole clench and unclench with each rub over your bundle of nerves.

“They taste so good, Volt. They’re doing so well for me, too, don’t you think?” 

Volt swallows over a dizzying lump in his throat, attempting to clear it before speaking but he sounds just as breathless as you. “Y-yes, they are…So good for you…” 

Eddie turns to you. “Good little spark,” His fingers play and circle at your entrance, pulling your lips apart to watch the slick ooze from you. His middle fingers dips inside slowly, it’s not nearly big enough to satisfy you— leaving you whining and wanting to beg for more. Before you can muster the courage to, Eddie is already pulling away and reaching over to press his fingers into your mouth. You let your mouth fall slack and take his finger in, a hand holds his wrist gently as you suckle and taste the saltiness of your own desire for him. “Get it nice and wet, spark…that’s it.” There’s a warmth to his voice that sends shivers down your entire body and you eagerly suck on his finger, letting saliva escape the corner of your mouth and slide down the side of his finger.

“Does Volt ever finger you?” He asks when he pulls away again and settles his hand between your legs once more. You shake your head and he pouts. “That’s a shame. He’s real good at it. Leaving our live wire out on some fun? eh?” He looks over his shoulder. “Not nice, Volt. Cruel, even.”

Volt groans, his pants tight around his crotch. You wonder if his hardon has the strength to burst from the seams. 

“That’s alright,” He hums, positioning his fingers at your entrance again. This time he holds his middle two, sinking them into his first knuckle. “I’ll take care of you.” 

With the width of his two fingers— your body reacts; leg spread wide, you toss your head back into the sheets, hands grip said sheets and you bite your lip in an attempt to muffle your moan. It doesn't work. Eddie’s fingers seek deeper inside you, feeling the plush, wet walls within you. The action alone has him feeling his cock dig into the bed below him. His hips adjust, feeling that satisfying friction but he stops himself— not yet. He’ll get his turn soon.

His fingers curl, hooking themselves deep inside you and he begins thrusting. Wet, filthy sound mix together with your sounds of pleading and pleasure when Eddie finds your g-spot and abuses it. 

“Eddie!” You moan, teeth clenching and legs fighting against his strong hold. “Fuck…fuck, fuck! Eddie!”

“That’s it,” His voice feels like warm honey against your eyes. “You want it harder, don’t you, my little wire?” Fingers move expertly, sliding in and out and pressing into that plush, sensitive spot so roughly it starts to feel numb. A knot forms in your lower abdomen, tightening and tightening—

“Eddie! Please, I’m almost there—“ He suddenly stops.

You whine, practically crying when his wet fingers leave you empty and clenching around nothing. By the time you open your eyes, he’s sitting up and sucking on his fingers, eyes trained over to Volt who really does look like he’s gonna burst.

His hair sparks blue, eyes flicker with a sick malice that you know isn’t true anger. You watch them, waiting for one of them to say something. It’s like they have a silent conversation, speaking telepathically. Eddie releases his finger with an audible pop and turns his attention back to you.

“Lay back down and spread your legs.” You don’t dare question him. 

You and Volt both watch with bated breath as Eddie unzips his pants, watching his hardon strain against the fabric before pushing them down along with his underwear. He springs out of the confines and you sit up to get a good look.

He climbs atop the bed, grabbing one ankle of yours with his hand and holding your leg open while the other grabs at his base. You hear a needy noise come from Volt when Eddie angles his dick to your heat. It’s warm and he presses his tip to your clit, sliding up and down to coat himself in your slick. His skin is soft and warm against you and Eddie lets out a moan that erupts from deep within his chest. A satisfying sound, something akin to a growl and he lets his eyes shut as the pleasure envelopes you both. He moves slowly, letting your pussy memorize the shape of him against your lips.

“Could cum just from this, live wire…” His tip catches at your hole and you gasp and relax— opening him for him but he slides back up to your clit and circles it with his tip. “Nice and wet, hm?” 

He pulls back a little to align himself to your entrance. You suck in a breath, holding it until his tip splits you open. There’s the slight burn the further he pushes in, waiting for you to flutter around him before Eddie continues to shimmy his way inside you. He’s much more girthier than Volt— thicker and hotter— you wonder in the moment if there’s any chance you’d ever be able to fit them both inside you one day.

Eddie releases his hand from his cock and grabs the back of your knee, lifting your leg to push it against your torso. He lets his head fall back when he bottoms out inside you and lets out a satisfying sigh. 

The room turns hot then. Everyone breathing deeply, Volt giving up on escaping and this time focusing on thrusting his own hips into nothing— practically crying over the lack of friction he receives. He watches you two with an icey, jealous, aroused stare that could melt metal.

There’s a searing heat between you and Eddie and it increases when he pulls his hips back and forward slowly, creating a slow and even rhythm. His thumb runs over the inside of your ankle, calloused finger soothing your mewling as you feel his cock bruise the inner working of your walls. Your toes curl when he pushes further in, his coarse hair mixing with yours, pelvis-to-pelvis in the most intimate way. 

“Fuck,” He breathes hard, breath fanning your face. He leans down, curling forwards and his hair falls over his forehead in a messy fashion. He thrusts harder, eyes peering down where you two are connected. Creamy white pools out of you and drips down onto the sheets, he fucks you harder, knowing you can take more. Your body rocks with each push inside you, reaching up to grab the sheets to keep you steady. You moan Eddie’s name, looking over to Volt whose mouth has fallen open, cheeks tinged blue. 

“So good, Eddie…Feels so good…” You say, eyes locking with Volt’s. There’s a smirk on your face and his eyes narrow, he still attempts to thrust but to no avail— there is no pleasure like skin-to-skin for him tonight.

Your other hand finds itself pressing into Eddie’s lower abdomen, feeling the ripple of muscle under his skin with each thrust. Your fingernails glide down a prominent vein on his pubic bone, down and down until your finger feels the wetness that’s coated on the small sliver of his exposed cock nestled in you. A choke catches in his throat and your hand goes to your very clit, circling it feverishly.

His speed picks up, thrusting getting messier, the sound of skin on skin growing louder, the bed creaking under the weight and his grip is so hard on your skin that you know you’ll have crescent shaped bruises in the morning. Eddie curses under his breath again, the pleasure becoming a hot white that almost blinds him. He’s just about ready to blow a fuse before he strains out.

“Gonna let me cum in you, right? Make you mine?” He says through clenched teeth. “Gonna fill you up and make sure we get every last drop deep inside you…” He leans down now, letting go of your ankle to grab the back of your knee, pushing both legs up and against your torso. The new angle is deeper, his girth splitting you open and tip bruising your cervix. There’s the burn and sharp pain of his abusing thrusts and he practically growls in your ear.

“Fuck, live wire, squeeze around me again and I’ll—“ His sentence is cut off when you tighten around him, lust filled eyes locking with his as you feel that wet warmth burry itself deep inside you.

Eddie’s lips part, glossy and red as he releases himself inside you, pumping his hips a few more times as ropes coat your walls. It’s lewd, the way you feel it slip out of you while he lazily moves his pelvis against yours. Slowing his motions, he lets go of your legs, letting the heels of your feet dig into the end of the bed. Sweat drips from his forehead and the tip of his nose, pushing his hair back, he sits back, still inside you.

Eddie quickly leans down to give you a long, strong kiss on your lips. When you separate and you press noses together, you look at each other deeply. Eddie’s eyes flash a pink color, eyelids droopy and the circles under his eyes seem to grow more prominent as the exhaustion of what he’s done takes over.

He slowly, eyes trailing over your body, pulls out of you. His softening dick drops cum from the tip and like a dam breaking, cum oozes out of you and onto the sheets. You release a sigh and let your achy limbs relax, stretching your arms above your head and arching your back.

You moan, pushing more cum out of you when you speak, “God, Eddie…that was…”

He sits at the edge of the bed, leaning his elbows on one knee and looks over to you, nodding. “Well needed fix, yeah…”

“I was gonna say amazing.”

He smiles and blushes. “That too…” He fully turns to you, remorse written across his face. “I’m sorry for the way I acted.”

You shake your head, sitting up and reach over to grab his hand. “Don’t be sorry for having insecurities. We all have them.”

He shrugs. “I’ll be better.” He looks away, blushing and then turns back to you quickly. He puts his other hand over yours. “I love you…I realized I hadn’t said it since…everything that went down. I love you.”

You squeeze back. “I love you too.”

There’s a groan coming from the edge of the bed. 

Oh right.

Volt sits, still tied up, head hanging forward, hair cascading down to cover his face. You and Eddie find your eyes trailing down his body to—

Oh!

A wet spot sits directly on the hard lump that is Volt’s erection. Eddie lets out a chuckle.

“No way you came untouched, in your pants.”

Volt groans, hair sparking aggressively. “Just untie me and let me change…”

[kaiser1ns]

#. A LONG-AWAITED DREAM

featuring 𝗷𝗶𝗻𝘂 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗶𝗱𝗼𝗹 𝗱𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗻!𝗿𝗲��𝗱𝗲𝗿

fluff + slight angst. you disappeared like a nightmare, but returned like a dream. he should forget you… but all he wants is to remember.

THE SHOOTING STAR you had been famous in the demon world many centuries ago. you were good at it, too good, flawless. maybe that’s why you were the favorite, a pawn polished till you stood alone, a weapon more than a somebody. but you made yourself disappear without a trace, leaving no one to remember you, not even the mighty demon king, who does little to recall someone who bears his mark.

you saw the sajas again. mostly because you were elbow-deep in demon guts at the time. yes, you, a demon, killing your own kind. the betrayal was heavy, just like the marks on your skin that you can’t erase, but you’ve long since cut ties with gwima and anything even mildly infernal. it’s been... what? two centuries? you stopped counting after ten years when you decided pretending to be human and saving souls was a better use of your immortality. it was long enough that even gwima doesn’t bother remembering you, not when he’s got new toys to parade around.

idol during the day, a soul-saving demon during the night.

you felt the energy of the five grim reaper boys, and panicked,  you ditched the scene, hiding in the shadows before any of them noticed. classic you, but the problem is, someone noticed you this time.

jinu. you have seen him before, or rather, you know him. of course, you do, since he’s older, technically your superior. he helped train you when you were just a newbie, back when your job description involved feeding souls to a gluttonous, egomaniacal demon king like it was a buffet. now he’s behind you. trailing like a lost kid at a mall who is crying for his mother, asking questions you didn’t ask for. 

“do you not hear him in your ear? do you not feel any shame, pain, regret?”

okay philosopher jinu, calm down. he wants to know how you did it. how you broke free from him, the one who wraps shame around souls like a curse masked as a vlessing. and you just want to know what the hell he’s doing here when his band is performing right after you. he’s cute, though. nostalgic, but you don’t have time for that. don’t have time for the past.

you blink, acting like you don't know what he's talking about.  "no, but i do hear the countdown to my performance in like... 30 seconds. so if you'll excuse me. see you, old man."

“excuse me? old man—hey!” he grabs your wrist like he forgot you're stronger than you look. your markings glow, purplish hues pulsing on your skin. eyes flashing gold from the sudden touch. you whip your head around, and that’s when he really sees you.

you look human, almost human. but your smile? oh, your smile screams devil in disguise. there’s something new in you, not darkness, but light. you smile like you tasted freedom and liked it. you have changed. his grip tightens, trying to keep you here, because he feels it, knows it. he remembers those eyes. they were made to take souls, but now… they burn with life.

“i’m not going anywhere, jinu” you say, calm and too perfect for someone with blood on their resume. “i’ll see you later, okay?”

he lets go, slowly, like something inside him just twists, and it wasn't from pain. it was something like the freedom he was seeking. he cleared his throat, shoved his hands into his jeans like he's a high schooler trying to look cool infront of his crush.

"break a leg then, sunbaenim," he mutters with a massive eye roll and a smirk that says i’m definitely going to bring this up again later.

“will do,” you wink, already walking off, refusing to glance back. “also say hi to the others, i’m sure abby misses me~”

MEMENTO MORI jinu watches you take the stage. the crowd erupts in screams and cheers the moment you appear. of course you have control here too. but it wasn’t built from doing dirty work, not anymore. not with blood on your hands or shame in your soul. you earned by rebuilding yourself.

he wants to forget everything; he wants his memories gone—burned, buried, erased. but you’re here now… have you always been here? have you always been more human than demon?

it’s like you died and were reborn. a wish from a shooting star, someone who escaped the endless maze, found the missing piece of the puzzle, and embraced their sins. he glances at his hands, and his own shame marks flicker in that same violet hue.

then you sing... and your voice? angelic. a complete betrayal of what you are. of what you used to be.

jinu clenches his fists and storms toward your dressing room. he doesn't know why he is doing something like this. as he enters, two familiar figures appear from the floor: a charming blue tiger and a three-eyed magpie bird, who is already wearing the tiger’s hat, again.

he pats the tiger’s head, and it purrs. then he pulls a blue envelope out of nowhere and places it gently into the tiger’s mouth. “wait for her, alright? she can resist me, but not you.” the tiger blinked, as it turned its head to the side, confused but listening and just going to fulfill the order. “be nice to her.”

and then he’s gone, off to prep for his performance.

GOTTA GO UNDER THE FULL MOON the show was over, and you kept killing it with your two new songs, “gotta go” and “full moon,” hit every note, every move, every soul, even the camera angle. don’t you love it when the cameraman knows how to do his job? give this man a rise. also the cover you chose? already trending, probably breaking the internet with edits. and the fans? oh, you adored them. pure, kind, unsuspecting humans, exactly the kind of souls you’d sworn to protect now, not harvest.

you walked into your dressing room, humming the last chorus under your breath, towel over your neck, heart still pounding, and you … freeze.

“did your master send you here?” you ask, staring at the unexpected visitors lounging on your couch like they are vips. a familiar blue tiger with big yellow eyes and a bird wearing the cat that was not his. “some habits never change, huh?” you kneel and scratch under the cat’s chin, it purrs like old times.

you missed them, only them. not him or the whole demon population. especially not the world you'd burned behind you.

then the cat padded forward and dropped something from its mouth. you blinked in surprise. a blue card? you picked it up and flipped it open.

“when the full moon rises, come see me.” – jinu

“is he out of his damn mind?!” you shouted, immediately followed by a guilty whisper after seeing how the two companions reacted. the cat blinks slowly, while the bird flaps twice in judgment. “sorry.”

you didn’t know why he wanted to see you. didn’t want to. what could he possibly want now? answers? closure? to poke at how you escaped? to ask again how you broke free from the grip of the demon king?

you don’t know, really don’t. it just happened.

all you remember is the hunter. the one who didn’t kill you. who saw your monstrous form and still spared you. who fought alongside you when you were still learning what it meant to want something other than power. maybe it was a blessing, or pure luck. maybe it was her.

you sighed, scribbled something on a small piece of paper, folded it neatly. “open,” you told the cat, and it obediently opened its mouth like a well-trained mailbox, as you tucked the paper in. “it was nice seeing you two. visit me next time without his creepy invitations, okay?”

except, you did end up going, because tonight was the full moon.

he’s sitting on a rock by the sea, waves crashing dramatically when you sneak up behind him. “nice spot. you come here often?” jinu screams, squealing like a little girl. “jeez, don’t do that ever again,” he groans, hand clutching his chest like the old man he is. “i was this close to becoming fish food.”

you laugh. can’t help it, because he’s the same even if he looks human. till handsome, still annoying. still... jinu.

"the moon’s beautiful tonight, isn't it?" he says, as you stand beside him, watching him gaze at the moon instead of looking at you. you hated how soft his features looked under the moonlight. hated that this felt right. then he turned to you, and like a coward, you looked away. it’s awkward. you both know what’s unsaid, both feel it burning beneath your skin like a song stuck on repeat. but you can’t say anything, not when gwima might still be watching.

so you talk about your career instead. your music, your fandom’s weird ship names with famous male actors. he seemed genuinely interested until he disappeared mid-sentence. you were smart enough to suspect something, just not fast enough to dodge the surprise wave of cold seawater he splashed on you from behind.

"what the hell—jinu?!" you yell, and he grins. "revenge is a dish best served wet."

“that’s not even how the saying goes!”

but you're already chasing him, splashing back, laughing like it’s 200 years ago and nothing even matters. knee-deep in the water, as you chase him while little cold waves hit your legs, and you laughed, he laughed harder. 

somehow, you ended up in his arms. you don’t know how you got in this position. giggles, flushed cheeks, eyes too close, lips too close. no need for words right now because your eyes are talking. the obvious three words feel special tonight. why is my heart beating so fast? when the full moon rises, you should give it all. it’s the perfect time for whispering love.

you're leaning in, so close. and then it struck. twelve o’clock. a silent bell tolled in your chest. you pulled away. what were you even thinking? you can’t be honest past this point.

his hands tighten just slightly. he doesn’t want to let you go. and you don’t either. but you have to. placing your hands on his chest, gently pushing him. he got the hint, and let you down, just like his hopes…like the dream he held for too long when it was just another illusion created to satisfy him for even a little while.

"i’m sorry, jinu..." he smiles. it doesn’t reach his eyes, and you see right through it. reaching for his hand, you squeeze it hard to reassure him it is going to be okay, but you are not the one to help him, you just can’t. "you’ll find your salvation. i promise."

and then you smile at him one more time before you vanish, teleporting when his hand reaches again for you, out of pure instinct, alas, you are already gone.

he stands alone under the moonlight, sea wind tousling his hair, eyes locked on the path of silver stretching across the waves. beyond that horizon, there’s another world out there where you meet again. there’s another world where you’re both free in his long-awaited dream.

BONUS cut to five saja boys sitting frozen on the couch in their dressing room. watching the tv with mouths wide open in shock, their souls leaving their bodies in slow motion. you’re on the screen, performing a cover of adult ceremony by park jiyoon. long and tight dress made of black silk, high heels ready to step on them. eyes glowing gold, lips tinted with red as the camera does a close-up and you wink. ending fairy style, the entire nation stops breathing. 

“did…did she just–” romance was too stunned to speak, and baby stole the remote from him. “shut up, and rewind it.” the saja boys are not okay. they’re in awe, terrified, fanboying. they need to collab with you immediately. but will you let them? will you let jinu be close to you once again?

taglist: @seneon @y2kuromi @maruflix @irethepotato @justanindiangirl12 @zuhaeri @levifiance @amery-benson-cvii @ririrenni3 @tsukimoon-chan (sorry if i missed someone; please let me know if you'd like to be added to the general kpdh taglist!)

©2025 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

[formulafanfics13]

What about female reader who replaces Fred as Ferrari team principal and brings them back to glory. Fixes almost everything going wrong with Ferrari within months. Works on Charles self esteem and confidence making him fall for her. You can decide how it ends with 🔥 or not. 💕

You Saved Me - CL16

Masterlist

summary: when you're appointed team principal of scuderia ferrari, the world holds its breath. a woman at the helm. a clean slate. and the desperate, burning need to win. within months, you restore the structure, the discipline, the glory. but you don't expect what happens next — not the soft-eyed driver with a fractured heart, not the way he watches you like you saved his soul, not the feelings blooming in places you swore you'd keep sterile.

warnings: reader is ferrari team principal, power imbalance, slow burn, obsession from charles, emotional tension, lewis as protective voice, charles spiraling into devotion, praise kink undertones, longing, subtle possessiveness, reader is unnamed/undescribed

They hand you the keys to the kingdom and an empire that's bleeding. You arrive in Maranello to polite handshakes and veiled doubt, the ghost of Fred Vasseur still lingering in the corner offices. The corridors are too quiet. The meetings too stiff. Strategy is still drawn with panic instead of purpose. The legacy weighs heavy — red walls, red suits, red scars.

But you don't flinch. You were hired because you don't.

By the end of week one, you've stripped half the outdated reporting structure and started a full data transparency overhaul. By week three, the entire pit wall dynamic has changed — no more decision by committee, no more blinking helplessly at split-second calls. You bring a cold, sharp clarity to every choice. Every race is a plan. Every mistake is accounted for and never repeated.

And by the time the European stretch hits, Ferrari looks... functional. Formidable, even.

The headlines shift from Ferrari Fails Again to The Woman Who Made the Prancing Horse Gallop. And beneath all the strategy briefings and power unit redesigns and press war rooms, is him.

Charles Leclerc.

You notice him immediately. Not because he makes noise. Charles isn't loud. He's patient, observant, too careful. But it's in the way he listens when you speak. The stillness of him. The way his body leans in when your voice picks up, the way his eyes track you through a meeting like he's trying to learn your cadence, your thoughts, your next three moves.

He starts staying after debriefs. Asking technical questions with answers he already knows. Sitting just a little too close on the pit wall. Brushing your shoulder on the way to the sim.

You keep it professional. He never crosses a line. But the air shifts. You feel it. And worse, you start craving it.

"You're rebuilding him," Lewis says to you one night in Imola, quiet and certain.

The garage is empty. Rain against the roof. Only the soft hum of telemetry screens still active. You look up from your notes. "I'm rebuilding a team."

Lewis raises an eyebrow. "Sure. But he's a part of it. And I've known him longer than you. I know what he looks like when he starts falling."

You pause. "Falling?"

He doesn't blink. "He looks like that."

It gets worse after Monaco. Charles finally wins it, wins his home race, the one that's haunted him for years. And it's not luck. It's you. Your calls. Your confidence in the rain. Your voice in his ear when the strategy window got tight and he started to doubt.

"You've got this," you'd told him, over radio. Calm. Steady. Like his spine when he forgets he has one.

He wins. Stands on the podium with tears in his eyes. And when he comes back down, past the screaming fans, past the team, past the blur of scarlet, he finds you. He doesn't say anything. Just hugs you like he might collapse. His arms wrap around your waist and his face presses to your shoulder and you swear you feel him breathe you in.

You keep your hands polite. Professional. But when he whispers, "You saved me," into your neck, something in you breaks.

After that, he's impossible. Not in the meetings. Not in the press. Not in any tangible way. He's polite. Obedient. Brilliant.

But he watches you like you're the fucking sun. Brings you coffee without asking. Leaves post-qualifying notes on your desk. Smiles too long. Eyes flick to your mouth when you speak. Holds eye contact like a man unafraid to drown.

You keep your distance. But only just.

Because the worst part? You like it.

You like that when you enter a room, Charles straightens in his seat. You like that when you praise him, "You made the right call into Turn 3, your tire management was perfect", he flushes and ducks his head and says thank you like it physically aches to hear it from you.

After Spa, when both cars finish top three, he slips a note into your jacket pocket. You don't find it until you're halfway through changing in your hotel room.

Thank you for not giving up on me before I knew how to stop giving up on myself. — CL.

You sit on the edge of your bed and stare at it for ten minutes. You still haven't responded. But you haven't thrown it away, either. You're not sure what happens next. You're not sure when the moment will come, the one where the space between you finally closes, or explodes.

But Charles looks at you like it's already happened. Like the decision is made. Like all that's left is timing. And god help you, you're not sure you want to stop him.

[lordzannis]

Please share this post by Hadeel and Abed. They've recently needed to restart their fundraiser and it's still very low on funds.

Hadeel and Abed have been verified by @gazavetters! They are #324 on their spreadsheet, which you can find linked in their pinned post.

💔 An Urgent Call: Stand With Us in Solidarity

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🌱 Why Your Contribution Matters

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Donate What You Can Every contribution, big or small, sows a seed of hope. Today’s urgent needs:  - £40 or £60 puts food on a family’s table or medicine in caring hands.  - Whether it’s £5, £50, or £500, every single pound changes lives.

Share & Amplify Use your voice! Share this appeal across your networks. Each repost, comment, and conversation helps build our collective power.

Engage in Solidarity This is more than fundraising—it’s about building a movement. Start conversations about mutual aid, participatory support, and grassroots solutions. Help us reimagine what community can be.

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We are united in our diversity—open, inclusive, and committed to transformative justice. Your support upholds the right to life and dignity, affirming our shared power to resist injustice and care for one another.

Join us in this urgent collective response.

Stand with us. Support today. Share widely. Build the future we all deserve.

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Very urgent call for donations for 8 family members. Two have died, so we're 6💔

Save us from Famine💔💔💔

This is Abed and His wife Hazeel.

We're not just asking for help — we're fighting to stay alive, literally.

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #324 )✅️

This is one eye Za'tar. He lost his eye in war due to a sharpnel. He is now depressed because there is no food. He refuses to feed his kids💔

We just feed our kids bread, only rotten bread💔

Because if we fed them good bread, we won't be abel to eat💔

Two of Za'tars' kids died starving and we couldn't save them, one is still alive so u can save him🥺

Luna the cat and Tama the turtle also are family members and they suffer what we suffer💔

The situation has become harder than ever. Our campaign isn't receiving much support, and donations have been very limited — but Alhamdulillah, we're still holding on.

We truly need your help now more than ever.

We need food

We have nothing to eat, literally nothing💔

Wheat, food and dry food are so expensive and we're suffering from real starvation with our pets💔🥺

Your support, no matter how small, means everything to us.

Thank you for standing with us.

Read our story here and donate or share plz:

https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-gazan-couples-dream-revival?lang=en_US&utm_campaign=man_ss_icons&utm_medium=customer&utm_source=copy_link&attribution_id=sl%3A2c176694-9b1a-4993-ad77-90a3f5cbc762

Shaaaare plzzz☹️

#Support #HelpUsRebuild #GoFundMe

[enhazy]

hi !!! i js read your fic and it's so good!!! if ever you want a fic idea, what about vampire hoon turning gf reader into one? 👀

I can't fucking lose you.

vampire!Sunghoon × fem!reader

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT

content warnings: DUBCON, NONCON/DUBCON turning (reader does NOT want to be turned, but hoon manages to change her mind), unprotected sex (don’t do this!), cream pie, hoon keeps fucking her while she’s unalive, biting, blood, mentions of death, slight breeding kink, somnophilia

Don't like it? Don't read it. Seriously. Nobody is forcing you to read this.

MDNI

word count: 1,219, not proofread

likes, reblogs, and feedback would be appreciated!!

DISCLAIMER:

I am not responsible for the content you consume. Content warnings are listed above (I may have missed something), please read thoroughly so you know what to expect. This is very very dark and I do NOT condone these things to happen in real life. THIS IS A FANFICTION WHICH MEANS IT DOES NOT DEPICT HOW SUNGHOON IS IN REAL LIFE.

ฅᨐฅ note: i feel like this is kind of shit, but ill let u be the judge of that!

—⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Sunghoon was going insane, and he rarely went insane. As a vampire, he never had to worry about life and death—not until you. You’ve brought light into his life when he thought he’d never get to experience such things ever again.

A relative of yours had recently died, someone Sunghoon’s never met but the news manage to shake him up a bit. He’s now realizing how fragile humans could be and how their life could be taken at any given moment. But that wasn’t going to happen to you, no. Your boyfriend would not allow it. He’s brought up the topic of immortality multiple times to you, you’ve always shared your distaste for it—talking about how life is an experience and you wanted to experience everything it had to offer. Even death.

Sunghoon obviously hated the thought. He didn’t want to stay himself while you grew old, what if you left him in the future since you can’t have babies with him? It was these thoughts that made Sunghoon wish he was a regular human, someone that could experience life with you the way you wanted to. But he isn’t a regular human, hell, he wasn’t human at all.

Your vampire was balls deep inside you when he decided, fuck it. He is not losing you—not now, not ever. So what’s he going to do? He’s going to turn you, whether you like it or not.

“Ngh, Hoonie.” You whined, Sunghoon’s pace becoming much more animalistic than normal. He thrusted with determination, fangs peeking out as his face got closer to your neck.

“Don’t move.” The warning was firm and commanding—growled—something your normally soft spoken lover would say in bed. Hoon’s always been different when you were having sex, so you didn’t question it. But this time? There was something different about him. His breath is labored, you could feel droplets of his saliva landing on your skin, the Sunghoon above you didn’t seem like your Sunghoon at all.

“What? Why? Are you okay, baby?” You frantically asked, placing your hands on his face as you tried desperately to look into his eyes—to reassure yourself that the man above you still loved you, still respected you.

Sunghoon ripped your dainty hands from his face, leaning into the crook of your neck, his mouth hovering over your pulse point. He breathed your scent in one last time, knowing you’d lose that fresh smell of life once you were turned.

He breathed in once.

Twice.

Thrice.

Then he bit, sharp fangs piercing your skin with no remorse, no mercy. Just straightforward and unforgiving. You screamed out in pain, grabbing onto Hoon’s shoulders and digging your nails into his pale skin, wanting him—needing him to stop—but the words never get to leave your mouth. Your vampire never ceased his thrusts, his pace only becoming much more erratic, like a mutt in a rut.

Sunghoon felt blissful, your blood flooding into his mouth straight from your veins like a fucking faucet. You were intoxicating, everything about you overwhelmed his senses. All he could feel, taste, smell, see, and hear was only you, you, you.

He let himself feed off of you, sipping your blood, draining you of it, just enough to leave only a little in your system so your body wouldn’t reject the venom.

Sunghoon pulled away a bit, pressing his forehead to yours as he feels your plushy walls tighten around his cock. He ceased his thrusts for a moment, wanting to give you a bit of time to collect yourself—though you’re on the brink of death. The lower half of his face was covered in blood, your blood, and though your eyesight was blurry, you could still see how beautiful the color looked on him.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” He apologised softly, kissing your lips, then your cheek, before returning to the wounds he pierced with his teeth. “I can’t fucking lose you, you hear me? I can’t. I fucking can’t.”

The venom pooled in Hoon’s mouth, he gargled with his venom, making sure to coat his fangs with the venom so he could feed it to your system. He thrusted and dug his fangs into you again simultaneously, weak whimpers leaving your lips. His venom made its way into your veins, making its way all over your body, reaching your heart in a matter of seconds and killing you instantly.

Sunghoon looked away, not wanting to see the light leave your eyes. He grabbed your hips instead and slammed his angry cock in and out of your limp body.

“Fuck!” He groaned, mouth falling open in a silent scream. The process would take a bit of time, Hoon knew he needed to last longer if he wanted to impregnate you. Maybe he’s doing the right thing, he could give you anything and everything if you’re both vampires. You could move to somewhere you’ve always wanted and have vampire babies together—the thought only spurred Sunghoon.

He chased his high, his hands tightly gripping your hips, pulling you flush against him. Your eyes blinked open and that’s when he released, hot spurts of his seed flooding your insides. Oh, you’d be pregnant in no time.

Sunghoon didn’t pull out right away, he leaned back and looked into your eyes. The eyes that used to hold so much life and hope in them, the eyes that sparkled whenever they landed on him. But Hoon didn’t regret it, no, he meant it when he said he wouldn’t lose you.

“You turned me.” You spoke for the first time after being revived. “Sunghoon, I told you—“

“I know. I know!” He cut you off, eyes dancing around the room, refusing to meet your eyes. “But I can’t lose you.”

“Sunghoon—“

“We can— we can move to wherever you want us to go. We can have kids, baby!”

“Hoon, what have you done?” Your eyes shone with tears, feeling betrayed by the person you trusted the most.

“You’ll understand one day.” Sunghoon shook his head, almost feeling how you felt right now. He was in the wrong, he knew that. But he also knew you would have done the same if the roles were reversed.

“I don’t want to understand one day, I want to understand now.” You pleaded, still soft for your lover.

“You’d turn me into a vampire to keep me, wouldn’t you?” He asked, sounding wounded. “If the roles were reversed, you’d do the same. Because— because you love me.”

You didn’t answer, you didn’t dare deny it because you knew he was right. The love you shared for each other tethered to obsession, neither of you could function without the other and now, you’d never have to be apart.

“Do we have to leave?” You asked, knowing if you only stayed here, questions would arise and could endanger you both.

“Yes, my love. We have to.” Sunghoon nodded, also fearing for the future. “You can say goodbye, if you want to.” He offered, knowing how much some people in your life meant to you.

“I still don’t like that you did this.” You replied, gently pushing Sunghoon off of you.

“I know.” Sunghoon sighed, caressing the skin of your abdomen.

“I might not ever forgive you.”

“I wouldn’t deserve it.”

“Sunghoon.”

“Yes, my love?”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

—⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

taglist:

@chuuyaobsessed, @choeryyxyz, @engeneheree

—⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[sevsevteen]

Hi I just discovered your writing and I absolutely love it!! I was wondering if you could write a miscommunication between the reader and a member where they think she likes them and try to let her down easy and the reader is just very confused because she doesn’t have feelings for them. Any member is fine I just thought it’d be a really funny idea lol

THIS WAS SO FUNNY !! I loved writing this omg, i was torn between choosing which member to write about and decided on our 🐶 - no. 1 spot on MTL to mistake feelings would definitely be him :D

"You...thought I what ?"

-- જ⁀➴°⋆

It started with a rumor.

Whispers here and there. A joke Seungkwan cracked. A look Joshua gave. Mingyu's wide-eyed "Wait, really?" when he passed you during lunch.

Mingyu didn’t mean to read too much into it.

But suddenly, every normal thing you did started feeling...more.

You gave your extra portion of kimchi stew at dinner.

You waited for him after practice that one time.

You lent him your umbrella after schedules on a rainy day without a second thought.

And that morning - oh, that morning - you casually said:

“Your hair’s sticking out like a puppy’s. It’s kinda cute.”

Mingyu’s heart dropped.

That was it. You liked him. The signs were clear, weren’t they?

So, being the gentleman he was, he decided to handle it maturely.

That afternoon, in the empty studio, he cleared his throat. You, seated on the couch cross-legged while reading your lyrics, looked up.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

You tilted your head. “Sure.”

Mingyu sat down beside you, exhaling like he was about to deliver news that would ruin hopes and dreams.

“Hey,” he began, voice soft. “You’re one of my favourite people in the group. You’re kind, thoughtful, and honestly - anyone would be lucky to have you.”

You blinked. “...Thanks?”

“But,” he continued, “I think it’s important to say...I don’t want anything to change between us just because I can’t return your feelings.”

You stared at him for a long second.

“What?”

Mingyu smiled gently, as if soothing a wounded animal. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me how?”

“I know how hard it must be, keeping something like this in—”

You squinted. “Wait. Are you saying you think I like you?”

Mingyu froze.

“I mean—” he faltered, “I—don’t you?”

You made a very unflattering snort. “You thought I liked you?”

“Well... yes?”

You laughed. Laughed. Slapped the couch cushion once for good measure. “Oh my god—who told you that?!”

Mingyu flushed. “No one! I mean—not really. But... Seungkwan said you called me ‘cute’ and Joshua said you looked at me weird during dinner.”

“I looked at you weird because you were drinking milk with ramen,” you deadpanned. “Are you five?”

Mingyu’s ears were red.

“I do not like you,” you said firmly. “I mean, you’re great. But no. I’m not insane.”

Mingyu let out a long sigh of relief—though somehow, his pride was slightly bruised. “Okay. That clears things up. Just...promise not to tell the others about this.”

You grinned. “No promises, puppy boy.”

Just then, the door burst open.

Seungkwan peeked in, wide-eyed. “Wait, did he do it? Did he confess to you?”

Mingyu and you groaned in unison.

--

[faramirsonofgondor]

AU where Tim realizes pretty early on that Dick is hallucinating Jason and he’s just like “nope, fuck that.” Tim has been parenting Batman, and Dick was supposedly the only semi-stable adult in his life (he doesn’t interact with Alfred much) and now Tim finds out that Dick is hallucinating???

At first, Tim tries to drug him with anti-psychotics, which actually takes a while because Dick keeps noticing them before he actually manages to ingest them. Then, once Tim actually figures out how to drug him without being noticed, the medications don’t even fucking work for some reason.

Then when Tim realizes that Dick has a pretty good handle on his hallucinations, Dick reaches out to him and tells him that he knows that Tim knows about his hallucinations. Dick is pleading, almost crying, while trying to explain that he’s not crazy, he’s fine, etc. Tim does not have time to deal with this shit, he’s not even getting paid to deal with this shit, and he knows that even if he reassures Dick that he doesn’t think he’s crazy, Dick will always be self-conscious and worried about it, and that will probably throw him off his game.

So Tim does the first thing he can think of, which in hindsight is incredibly stupid, and tells Dick that he saw Jason too. Once he says the words he regrets them, but he decides to double down anyways. He somehow manages to convince Dick that they’re both seeing Jason’s ghost, but that they’re the only ones who can see him. Tim would probably feel more guilty about it if it didn’t work so well. Sure, sometimes Tim will have to track Dick’s eye movements so he can figure out where he has to pretend to stare at Jason’s ghost, but once he gets the hang of it, it’s not too hard. Plus, it’s almost fun, watching Bruce try to figure out what the hell they’re both glancing at every so often.

For the most part, Tim doesn’t even have to do that much, since both Dick and Tim somehow came to the conclusion that Jason’s ghost seems to hate him and that it’s better if Tim doesn’t interact with the ghost. It would probably offend Tim under any other circumstances that some manifestation of Dick’s mind seems to hate him, but to be fair he is gaslighting Dick into believing that it’s not even part of his mind, that it’s reality.

Anyways time goes by and Tim even starts to forget that Jason’s ghost isn’t real cuz he gets so into it. Then someone breaks into Titans tower, but this time Tim gets a peek at the man under the mask. Jason decides to change his plans for some reason (read: I’m too lazy to come up with a reason). He decides to scare the shit out of Tim by unveiling his identity, hoping that Tim will tell Bruce. Unfortunately for Jason, Tim’s initial reaction isn’t “Holy shit, you’re Jason Todd”, but instead “Oh shit, I’m seeing him too now. Fuck, I knew I should’ve called that therapist. Is this hallucination contagious or some shit ?”

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!

Thank you for the response! Now that I have an identity on here, lol, can I request a tasm!peter x fem!reader fic if you’re comfortable doing so ?

can I request it based on this prompt, with reader saying it to Peter?: “I can’t tell if you’re really charming or if I’m just easily charmed.” Relationship and context can be whatever you decide :)

Thanks! <3

- 🪻

Thanks for your request <3

tasm!Peter x fem!reader ♡ 780 words

“You’re getting predictable." 

“You’re getting better,” Spiderman replies, dropping down onto the sidewalk beside you. He keeps pace with your unbreaking stride. “Don’t you feel safer when you can hear me coming? Or anyone?”

You scoff a little. Spiderman bumps his shoulder into yours chidingly, like you’re old friends. Yes, like every old person you’ve ever come across, he had some opinions on you wearing your earbuds while walking the streets by yourself. Vigilance, awareness, blah, blah, blah. It was only the touch of caring in your unlikely tagalong’s voice that had pressed on something tender in your chest and ultimately persuaded you. 

“Don’t act like you don’t wear earbuds too when you’re off the clock,” you say, though you know how it’ll go. You like to quip at Spiderman about his maskless identity, but that topic is where your strangely effortless camaraderie ends. It’s the rock against which the waves of levity break. 

He changes the topic instantly. “You’re pretty hypocritical to call me predictable, you know that? Who needs to go to the grocery store every night?” 

You fish in your bag, pulling out the sole item, a pint of ice cream. “The cravings hit like clockwork.” You shrug. 

Spiderman takes the pint from you. It’s strange that you know him well enough to read reactions into his silences, but you swear you can feel his eyebrows rising behind the mask. “Half baked?” 

“What about it?” 

“Nothing. Just, the tonight dough’s obviously better.” 

“Wrong.” You take it back from him, dropping it into your bag. “That one doesn’t have brownies.” 

“It has peanut butter cookies.” 

“If that’s what you’re prioritizing, you’re hopeless.” You turn a corner, trying not to smile when Spiderman has to backtrack a bit to follow you. This is another game you enjoy playing with him. You know he knows where your apartment is by now, and obviously there’s more than one way to get there, but sometimes you like to take routes which lead you away just to see if he’ll correct you. The consequence of getting to spend longer walking with him is a secondary effect. “I bet you haven’t even tried half baked.” 

“I don’t need to.” 

“I’d give you some if you came over.” 

Spiderman turns his head to look at you. Again, you feel like you know the energy of it even without seeing his face. You laugh. 

“Come on, you’d only have to take the mask off a little bit.” 

“The obvious solution here is for you to go back for a pint of tonight dough,” he says, following you through a random crosswalk. You’ve passed your apartment three blocks down on a parallel street. “And that way you can tell me I’m right after you compare.” 

You stop. Spiderman pulls you to the side, out of the flow of traffic, and you let him. His touch is warm on the inside of your elbow. “I’ll go back right now if you try both with me,” you say. 

Spiderman’s eyes are white and unblinking. He stares you down (or does he? You feel like he does) for a few moments before asking, “You’re really curious, aren’t you?” 

The corners of your mouth lift helplessly. “You have to know you make people curious.” 

“Uh, yeah, it’s my mysterious aura. You think I’d have gotten half as far walking pretty girls home without it?” 

“Girls?” 

“Girl.” His voice softens. A touch of caring, just where you left it. It disarms you the same every time. “Well, sometimes girls, but only when they need it.” 

“I get why it’s a secret,” you tell him, sincere now. “I’m mostly just messing with you.” You turn around, back the way you came. “But it is weird that you know when I go to ShopRite every night and I don’t know what you look like.” 

“It’s less weird than you think.” Spiderman begins ambling alongside you again. He makes no comment on your directionlessness. “The mysterious aura is half the fun.” 

“Eh. I’d like you the same with or without it.” 

“Yeah?” There’s a smile if you’ve ever heard one. Oh, you’d love to see his smile. It sounds like it dimples. 

“Yup,” you affirm, popping the p. 

“What makes you so sure?” 

You shrug. “I can’t tell if you’re really charming or if I’m just easily charmed, but,” you give him a sideways look, “I like you. I’d like you no matter what, I know it.” 

You like to imagine you’re making Spiderman blush under all that spandex. “You think I’m charming, huh?” 

“Don’t go getting a big head about it.” 

“Me? Nah. I’m your humble neighborhood hero, why would you even say that?”

[anki-of-beleriand]

The Best Kept Secrets Ch. 1

Summary: Wanda was on the verge of breaking down when she was called to attend her brother's engagement party. Alone and unable to keep up with her mother's expectations she makes a deal with the devil that would lead her to discover a side of her that may either destroy her or bring the happiness she so craves for herself.

Pairing: Female!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Warnings: au, Moder setting, No powered charcaters, cheating, idiots in love, unrequite/requited love, jealousy, drama, angst, broken hearts, homophobia, more warnings as chapters come in.

Author's Note: Hello guys! I know I have seen this before but thi time around I will take my time but ill force myself to write through this and finished it. This is the new, improve, version of a story that will tell you what happened to Reader in her everyday life. I hope you like it.

Thank you for reading, and giving me the chance to share this with you. Remember English is not my mother tongue, so apologise in advanced for any grammar, spelling or funny mistake you may find in here.

Chapter 1

 On a fateful evening

Electric blue broke into the sky falling with a single jolt of energy on the land.

The thunder rumbled with waves of sound crashing against the glass of the windows, the world around the villa trembled just as darkness consumed the room. The lights flickered once, then twice, and finally they gave in leaving the house in complete darkness breaking into gloomy shadows that danced into the night.

Time stood still.

The silence was broken by the wind and the drops of heavy water breaking into the land.

The Weather Channel had announced the storm early in the morning, and while you had not been averse to the idea of being trapped in such an Aegean paradise, you were not overly fond of being trapped in such a place with her.

Wanda Maximoff.

Your heart trembled at the sight of her deep, forest eyes. The frailty of her expression was accompanied by the beauty that had always charmed those around her.

You never thought you would see her again.

Not after she broke your heart.

And you decided to disappear.

A year Ago

 - Kent, England, King George's Club.

Morning light poured through the tree lines surrounding the golf course.

The wind from the sea was fresh, with a salty taste that usually made her relax and think of better times. There was not a single sound that could distract her from her goal, her hands closed tightly around the club with her eyes narrowed slightly as she pointed to the fifth hole. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her arms, turned her torso and then swung to the left…

…missing the golf ball for mere inches.

“FUCK!”

Kate Bishop winced, it was Wanda’s fifth attempt to hit the ball and the exercise was not going well for someone that had won several golf championships since she was 14 years old. Wanda grasped the club tightly, her body trembling with bad contained rage her eyes glaring at the ball as if the small, white object were to be blamed for her failures.  The morning glided through the land slowly, the heat turning into a freezing wind as the clouds changed into grey, darkened mounds in the sky.

Wanda stood frozen for a moment, her mind filled with memories of what had been a complete farce. The tears clouded her sight, she held her sobs tightly while her body trembled under the weight of the memories that brought heartbreak.

Wanda had loved Jarvis from the moment they had met.

She had fallen in love with his mind, his smile, and his lies. From the very first moment, Wanda had known it was a forbidden relationship, but the naive part of her heart hoped for a glimpse of something that would never be.

Wanda had loved him so much (she was still pretty much in love with him).

This was the reason why his deception had hurt so much.

Jarvis had betrayed her. He had used her. He had broken her in ways Wanda didn’t think possible to recover from.In the middle of the golf court, and without a warning, Wanda broke into painful sobs, her body trembling under the weight of her emotion she had been trying to hide from the world. 

In the middle of the golf course Wanda finally gave in, crying her heart out at the unfairness of the situation. She cried with the golf-club falling from her hands just as she wrapped her arms around herself; Wanda had her eyes closed with tears rolling down her cheeks and was ignorant of the young woman that was hesitating a few steps away from her.

Kate bit her lower lip with her right hand hovering closer to the crying form of Wanda, she could hear the sheer pain behind the other woman’s sobs. The way Wanda trembled while holding onto herself was enough to break Kate’s heart. She stepped closer unsure on how to approach the situation without creating more pain or desperation to her best friend.

“Hey, Wands,” Kate all but whispered, stepping closer until she offered the only comfort she could at the moment. 

Wanda welcomed the hug, hiding her face from the world in the crook of Kate’s neck, shaking as she sobbed and let go of all the pumped up emotions she had been holding for far too long. Kate closed her eyes wishing she could do something, anything, to heal her friend and to make the man pay for his transgressions.Kate rubbed Wanda’s back, brushing her hair soothingly as she held her close.

“It’s okay, Wands, it is gonna be okay, I promise you.” The word left Kate’s mouth before she could stop them, but even if she didn’t know how or when, she found it in her to promise Wanda a glimpse of hope for the future.

For what seemed like an eternity, Wanda cried and Kate held her tenderly allowing her to pour her heart out the way they had done so since kindergarten.

Kate had met Wanda at a younger age, and while she had been boisterous and loud and always competitive, Wanda had been the most logical and cautious one, always the voice of reason. The both of them had been together for the first love, and the first heartbreak, Wanda had been by Kate’s side when her father died, and Kate had been there for Wanda when the young woman had almost lost her brother. They had been through so much that, now that they are adults facing the real world, Kate didn’t know how to handle this situation. She didn’t know why she allowed the relationship between Wanda and Jarvis to spiral out of control, to get in the way of their friendship and, ultimately, to break Wanda the way it had done so.

“I am so stupid, Kate, so stupid…” Wanda whispered squeezing Kate tenderly before letting go, Kate hesitated stepping back her hands on Wanda’s arms, Wanda had her eyes closed and she was speaking to her friend as much as she was speaking to herself, “I should have known, I should have seen it…you warned me, everyone who knew warned me.”

Wanda knew she should have seen it from the very first moment they met. He had been in a relationship at that time, and ever since that first day Wanda had always been a shadow. A secret. The other woman. A lover, never a girlfriend, never a partner. Wanda should have done many things, and she should have known how things would end up; still a part of her had always hoped he was what Jarvis wanted, a part of Wanda had been so naïve into thinking they were meant to be together and that, by the end of everything, Jarvis would choose her.

How wrong she had been.

“Wanda…” Kate started hesitantly, she trailed off seeing the broken stare on her friend’s eyes.

“I should have known, Kate.” Wana sounded broken, detached from all emotions running through her.

Before Kate could do or say something, Wanda shook her head standing up while wiping her tears away.

“I think this is enough golf for today, don’t you?”

Kate opened and closed her mouth, she stood up locking eyes with Wanda. For a brief moment, Kate played with the idea of saying something, but the empty glance Wanda shot her way told her she just needed to forget for the time being. With a heavy heart, Kate nodded, trying to give Wanda the time she needed it to finally open up and tell her everything that had happened between her and Jarvis.

“Yes, I think you are right, it is almost midday and we should eat something for lunch before going back to the flat and get ready for Stark’s Gala tonight.” Kate mumbled, Wanda winced remembering the social event she was obliged to attend that night.

“I forgot about it,” Wanda passed her hand through her hair, wiping away the tears from her cheeks, “mother expects me to go and use the dress she got for me.”

Kate snorted knowing Wanda’s mother had been trying to control the social life of Wanda ever since she came of age and decided to be celibate and single. It was quite obvious, Wanda had been anything but celibate and single, but no one was to know that Jarvis had been the one Wanda had been dating; they were supposed to be friends nothing else nothing more. But since the relationship had been a secret Wanda’s mother, Natalya Maximoff, had tried to set her daughter up with the young single men in high london society. 

“So, she is also setting you up on a date tonight?” Kate asked, trying to divert the mood into more familiar, and mundane situations, Wanda rolled her eyes getting into the golf cart with Kate.

“No, not today, dad forbid her to continue the quest of hunting for a boyfriend or a husband for me.” Wanda said, shaking her head, if it hadn’t been because of her father she was pretty sure she would be going to the Charity event with some dumbass her mother thought appropriate for her.

Kate pursed her lips for a moment, her eyes diverting to the grass and the trees before turning to Wanda. 

“I guess…well, if you think about it, perhaps this could be your chance to…to finally meet someone new?” Kate ventured, she lifted her right hand opening the palm in a signal of peace, “I know it is too soon, but maybe you could think about it?”

Wanda sped up the golf cart while grabbing the wheel tightly in her hands, Kate yelped almost falling down understanding that her comment had been unnecessary. . At least, for now. The morning glided away with the sun touching the land with a cold embrace, the golf cart travelled down the camp swiftly leaving behind the many players that had just started the morning routine in the club. Kate grabbed the handler on the front while shooting Wanda a warning glare.

“You know this cart is not going to kill but probably just injures us?” Kate huffed. “I was just…it was just an idea, Wanda. You really, this situation is…I just want you to be happy.”

Wanda winced, taking a deep breath knowing that Kate wanted nothing more than for Wanda to be happy. To finally break the toxic cycle she had entered with Jarvis during their tumultuous relationship. 

“I’m sorry, I just…not yet, I am not ready yet.” Wanda whispered, slowing down her driving while taking the golf cart to the main building inside the Club..

Kate shook her head leaning back in the seat, “I know, Wanda. Look, I know it is not easy, and I know it is not fair but…you can’t let this situation get over your head. You can’t let him win.”

“I don’t want him to win,” Wanda mumbled, turning left and leading the golf cart towards the court parking lot. “This is just…too much. And I haven’t even had the time to mourn properly, to actually face what happened, to talk to him I mean…”

The place was already packed with societal crowds, Wanda trailed off trying to act as if nothing but bad luck had disturbed her golfing morning. Kate followed her inside the country house towards the showers, both of them offering polite and practical smiles to the people they encountered on their way to the changing rooms.

The place was not empty but at least in their chosen space they could continue their private conversation. Wanda sat fixing her socks and shoes while furrowing her brows, her words still hanging heavily above their heads.

“I don’t understand why you haven’t blocked him or stopped talking to him.” Kate finally blurted out, the question burning inside her mind since the relationship between Wanda and Vision exploded.

Wanda shrugged, focusing her attention on the make-up, “we are supposed to be old friends, no…we were not supposed to be anything else. If he stopped talking to me, it could be suspicious.”

A heavy silence fell upon them.

This admission shattered any argument Kate was ready to present to her friend, the deep implication of such a statement finally made sense of the puzzle the young Bishop had been trying to put together since Wanda had broken up things with Vision.

“We better hurry up, I am hungry and we need to get ready for tonight.” Wanda straightened up while glancing at her reflection, her forest eyes gleaming with unshed tears and heartbreak.

The table was already occupied by Jessica Jones and Gwen Stacy waiting for them, Wanda felt dizzy, her face drained from all colour and her eyes opened big as she set her them on the woman that had meant her downfall. Kate placed a single hand on her friend’s forearm, her eyes opening lightly as she led in.

“Wands, sorry i didn’t know…” Kate started, but Wanda clenched her jaw shaking her head.

“It’s okay, I know…let’s get this over with.” Wanda said though her voice had lost its usual  bite and emotion. “I have to act normal, remember?”

This last part was said with a bitter smile, and Kate had to wonder just how many times had Wanda put on an act inorder to cover her relationship with Jarvis. How long had Wanda submitted herself to be a simple shadow of the woman she really is. For the very first time, Kate could say that she felt actual hatred for someone, hatred for the man that had broken her best friend, her sister, in such a systematic and cruel way.

Jessica’s eyes lit up when she saw Wanda and Kate, the four of them had met during their High School years and their friendship had lasted since then. Wanda winced when Jessica wrapped her arms around her asking about her day and her life until then, Wanda tried to be polite and friendly, but it was obvious that something was bothering her. Gwen and Jessica interchanged knowing stares and they offered Kate and Wanda sympathetic smiles.

“I know what you guys are thinking about,” Gwen was the first one talking to Kate and Wanda, “but I know soon you will find the right man and in no time it will be me and Jessica, the ones all excited to be the maid of honour in your wedding.”

Kate almost choked on her water, Wanda rolled her eyes patting her softly on the back.

“Right, now I mean…we are happy for you two.” Kate said cleaning the water from her chin, she looked at Wanda out of the corner of her eye before turning her attention to Gwen. “But we are fine just being…maids of honor, right, Wanda?”

“Uh, yes, totally fine.” Wanda replied, forcing a tight smile that Jessica and Gwen didn’t buy.

“Look, Wands, I know Jarvis is your best friend, and that you were just as surprised as I was when he proposed to me but..”Jessica started while Wanda tried to conceal her emotions, “but you are also my friend and while the dynamic is going to be different, I want you to know that well, nothing has to change between us, and between you and Jarvis, he has been down as of late since you haven’t called him.”

Wanda sat there unable to form any words or even to react at what Jessica had stated so innocently. Kate placed a hand on Wanda’s thigh, a comforting gesture as he tried to take over the conversation.

“Pietro is also a little down since you haven’t been responding to his calls,” Gwen said furrowing her brows, “are you guys fighting or something?”

“No!” Kate exclaimed louder than was probably necessary, several people turned to her before she gave a sheepish smile and turned to the other two women, “It is my fault, I…I have been down since I found out Gwen will be married in two months, and Jess got engaged last week, I was dragging Wanda with me in an emotional comfort trip.”

Jessica and Gween soon turned their attention to Kate, their words meant to comfort the brunette in her role in their lives and the plans they could still make to enjoy their time together. Soon the conversation took an unexpected turn and Gwen was distracting everyone with the latest preparations for her wedding, Jessica was an avid listener taking notes to start the preparations from her own nuptials. 

In all this time, Kate could tell Wanda was holding it together by sheer will power but that, as the time passed and they kept hearing the fairytale narrated by Jessica and Gwen’s relationship the young woman would explode. And, just as predicted, the explosion came due to Gwen’s intervention.

“Pietro was fretting due to the amount of people being invited, but your mother and I tried to calm him down and explained to him the importance of a nice pre-wedding dinner, overall for those who are not invited to the main event.” Gwen fixed her hair giving a lighthearted giggle.

The conversation could have died there, no more was necessary but Gwen had always been naive and just a little dense about the reality of the world. She settled her grey eyes on Wanda, a twitch of the woman's lips told Kate she should intervene before Gwen said anything, but she was too slow to react.

“By the way Wanda,I have heard from a very good source that Victor Von Doom will be there, and your mother has already made arrangements for you to be escorted by him to the reception.” Gwen leaned forward placing her hand on top of Wanda’s one mistaking her dumbfounded glance for one of shocked nervousness.

Kessica opened her eyes with pure glee in them, she turned to Wanda with a smile, her face completely changed into one of happiness, the same expression Gwen was wearing while giving these news.

“Oh, Wanda, that’s fantastic!! Victor is such a handsome man, and he is a good man too.” Jessica said giddy by the news, “perhaps he is your knight in shining armour, I know Victor has been trying to get into business with your father, and this could be more than just business.”

Gwen nodded smiling, “I know Victor has tried to reach out to Pietro to ask properly to get you on a date. You know they both studied in the same Universityand Victor respects your brother and father.”

“Oh, asking for permission? How romantic…”

Kate watched the world crumble under her in seconds, she turned to Wanda and could see the red on her cheeks and the glint of anger in her eyes. 

“Excuse me?” Wanda couldn’t hide the anger in her voice, her eyes gleaming with animosity at the audacity coming from Jessica and Gwen. 

She knew Victor Van Doom, the man was a complete jerk and he had tried to get into her family for years. Wanda despised him, he was an arrogant jerk who could care less about her desires or her feelings. The fact that her mother had been dragged into this situation, and that she was planning to get the man into a party that she would potentially attend was insulting and quite frankly disturbing.

Gwen and Jessica blinked confusedly, they were taken aback by the obvious anger coming from Wanda. Kate could see Gwen and Jessica were not only confused but slightly hurt by this reaction, a flash of concern crossing their eyes, and Kate couldn’t help but feel sorry for them. They were really honest in their words, but the sheer innocence and naivety from them had always been a sore point for Wanda. 

“Van Doom is an imbecile whose reputation has been tainted by his inability to hold a business standing,” Wanda stood up, whatever frustrations she had been experiencing in the last month finally getting the best out of her. “Frankly I pitied the woman that fell into his hands, now Gwen, Jessica, if you excuse me I have an event to attend and I am already late to get ready for it.”

Wanda stood up leaving the table in a rush, Gwen sat there furrowing her brows torn between being offended and perplexed. Kate stood up as well, she shot Gwen and Jessica a smile placing her hand on top of Gwen's one.

“You better don't invite that man to the party, Gwen. Wanda really hates him, and the fact her mother is messing around to try and set her up with him is only going to end up really bad. I know Pietro would be against the idea of Van Doom coming to your party..”

Gwen shifted frowning, “Kate, I'm looking out for her. It has been so long since she dated someone, we all are getting either married or have a relationship going on whereas she is…alone. It's not right. I was just trying to get her to meet someone, perhaps dated and have a family on her own?”

“Kate, what we are trying to say here is that we are worried about you and Wanda,” Jessica continued pursing her lips. “We want you guys to experience the same excitement and happiness we feel with our boyfriends. To be loved and to actually have a future…”

Kate lifted a hand furrowing her brows for the first time, she turned her eyes to Jessica then to Gwen, they both had always been too naive for their own good. Kate straightened up wanting to leave her message pretty clear before going after Wanda.

“I understand your concern, I do.” Kate measured her words, pride in herself for being so good at being a grown up. “But you can’t expect us to be happy because you set her up with a man she obviously despises, or that all we want in life is to be in a relationship and get married. I get that for you guys it is the best thing ever, but Wanda, and even me, we are just fine the way things are.”

Then, Kate turned to Gwen, “you know Wanda wants to be happy, she is always looking for that spark, that one person that will change her view of the world and make her feel love. This is not what she wants.”

“Wanda wants to fall in love. To be loved and loved back.” Gwen nodded as if finally understanding, she softened her features, a flash of urgency growing in her grey irises. “Oh, no! I messed it up, didn’t I?I didn't want to…”

“I know, but Gwen you need to start listening to others and start listening to yourself and stand for what you think is right or not,” Kate hesitated before giving Jessica and Gween a hug. “It was good to see you guys, we…will talk later.”

“Please, tell Wanda I'm sorry and I will make sure no one she doesn't like is invited to my engagement.”

Kate walked away from the place rather relieved to know Gwen found a real man that cherished and loved her dearly. She didn't want to think what would have happened if a different individual had approached Gwen when she was younger. With determination behind her strides, Kate strolled down the halls towards the parking lot. In no time she found the car, Wanda was looking gloomily to the horizon, detached from what was happening around her while the tears gleamed under the thunder breaking into the sky. Kate huffed running under the rain before going into the car.

“Gwen and Jessica said they are sorry.”

“Hn, okay.” 

Wanda turned the engine on, she grabbed the wheel tightly, breathing deeply. Her face fell for a moment, then with a tired stare she turned to Kate.

“Will you go with me tonight?”

Kate nodded shifting in the seat, “you know I will.”

“Thank you.”

And with that, the both of them drive out of the club and into the highway leading to London. 

The sky bringing rain and a wind of change Wanda had been ignoring all day.

______________________________________________________________

- Oxford University, Bodleian Library -

The Bodleian Library was one of the oldest libraries in Europe, an architectural and intellectual marvel, the building was located one hour away from London at the heart of Oxford University.

The Library didn’t need to be at the center of the Oxford complex, to be the heart that led investigations in social studies, politics and international relations. In busy times, the building was always filled with students,investigators, workers and even tourists, it was a mixture of people from around the country and the world and it tended to be far too overwhelming. However, with Winter so close and Christmas vacations around the corner, the library became a silent sanctuary for those who were too absorbed in their studies to care for human interaction.

That was the reason as to why this library was your favorite place in the whole world. 

It felt like home for you.

The main room in the library was empty, there was only the librarian who was sitting on the far corner cataloguing some books. You sighed while stretching out while turning on the music, you grabbed the next book with your notebook filled with doodles and notes; you have been working on your thesis for more than four hours, not food or drinks, just you and the books. A pang of sadness went through your heart at the bitter reminder that regardless of the work you have done so far, you had yet to receive a proper job proposal. You frowned, lowering your gaze to the book you have been reading, ignoring your thoughts and your phone you tried to go back to your notes.

 “You know you look hot acting all nerdy and interesting like this?” You jumped at the sudden irruption in the silent setting, turning around you find yourself looking directly into the green eyes of one Natasha Romanoff.

The young woman was smirking at you while taking the sit beside you, she tilted her head grabbing the book you have been reading before grabbing your phone while pausing the music. You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips at the other woman’s antics. 

“Romanoff.” You tried to greet with a serious, non-sense tone of voice that your friend dismissed with a wave of her hand.

“Y/L/N.* She repeated just as formality, her grin growing winking at you. “So, what are you doing, hot stuff?”

You leaned back on the chair, your eyes drifted around the library before setting on Natasha. The brunette had been the first woman you met in the country, she had offered you friendship and companionship and for over six years, Natasha Romanoff was the best friend anyone could ask for. She had been there in the good and the bad, her friendship had saved you in ways you were not sure Natasha was aware of.

“I was finishing a mandatory reading for the lecture I am preparing.” You stretched out letting out a yawn while your stomach grumbled remembering you about your missing lunch.

Natasha lifted brow , chuckling at your red cheeks, “seems like you are hungry, wanna grab something to eat? I am pretty sure you are not forgetting to feed yourself or I will be very mad.”

You winced at the sudden change in the woman’s voice, she really was like a sister to you and Natasha took the role very seriously.

“I was too distracted, and I really wanted to finish this lecture.” You said softly, Natasha softened her feature winking at you while helping you put everything away.

“Come on, we can grab something to eat and then some coffee, in that place you like so much.”

You stopped what you were doing turning to a very eager Natasha, you narrowed your eyes at her until the young woman stiffened offering a guilty smile. 

“Why are you being so considerate and helpful?”

Natasha was a kind person, she could be protective and the person to go to if you needed help. But this kind of kindness, the fact that she came all the way to the library, and the sudden guilt in her eye and smile told you there was more to this impromptu visit that she led on.

“Can I be a kind soul with my best friend in the whole world?”

“Now, I know there is something wrong with you, what is it?” You asked, narrowing your eyes once more.

Natasha winced, grabbing your backpack while shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Her explanation came short as your stomach grumbled and soon you were blushing at the embarrassing sound. Natasha smirked once more, recovering her confidence while hooking her left arm with your right one. 

“Come, I am pretty sure you haven't eaten anything at all since the toast Yelena left you this morning.” 

“Well, I mean…I did have a coffee.” You mumbled trying to defend yourself, Natasha rolled her eyes while walking with you to the exit of the building.

“You really need to take care of yourself, Y/N.!” The cold breeze from the Oxford afternoon rushed through your face, wrapping your jacket tightly around your body and fixing your scarf as you followed Natasha down the stairs towards the yard.

A few minutes later the both of you were entering the café crossing the street from the main University building, the place was packed with students and professors while you two chose the only empty table inside. Natasha sat down tilting her head with her eyes on you, the young waitress that took your order let her eyes linger on Natasha before disappearing down the establishment.

“Lady killer, eh?” You chuckled, shaking your head before leaning in. “So, Nats, what do you want?”

Natasha laughed leaning back while placing her right hand on her chest faking surprise and indignation all in a single pout, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You offend me, Y/N. I come as a friend to ensure you eat something instead of drowning in self-pity and books.” She said resting her cheek on her palm, her lips curling into a more sincere smile, her eyes gleaming with understanding and the knowledge that you had been beating yourself as of late for your lack of job offers. “How are you feeling? I wanted to talk to you this morning, but you weren’t there.”

You shifted chewing your lower lip while furrowing your brows, “I didn’t wanna talk.”

“I know.” You lifted your eyes to see Natasha offering a half smile, you snorted nodding. “I just…I tried so hard.”

Natasha could detect the defeat in your voice, she knew you had been affected by the lack of invitations and job offers that most of your classmates had already received. The program for your Master’s degree had opened the gates of private companies, organisations and even government organizations to reach out to the brightest minds in the program. You had been the number one student in the program, but you had been the only one who had not received a job proposal yet. 

“I know you think you are not good enough, or that you are not ready, but Y/N, you are.” Natasha put her hand on yours, squeezing tenderly while offering a tiny smile, you tried to smile back but your lips faltered.

“I just…I have worked so hard.” You mumbled keeping your mouth shut as the young waitress placed the food on the table, Natasha kept her eyes and hand on you waiting until you could finally let it go. 

“I worked hard everyday, I studied and I know I am smart.” You said but your voice lacked conviction, and Natasha knew right there and then that your poor opinion on yourself was getting in the way once more.

“Y/N, listen to me,” Natasha said firmly, “you are smart, you are the smarter person in that program, You will get what you need because it would be the one thing to get you to the place you are needed the most. I know it is hard, but you need to be patient.”

You snorted nodding, you knew that speech by heart. 

It was easier said than done, and you sometimes didn’t have the patience to wait for what you needed or wanted. You started eating and, as soon as the food touched your mouth you gave in to the hunger you have been feeling all day. Natasha observed you in silence, you ate glancing everywhere but at the woman sitting in front of you, finally when you were focusing on your coffee she took over the conversation once more.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but you really need to be patient.” Just then Natasha put from her pocket a white envelope, you frowned, grabbing the object while turning questioning eyes to her. The young woman shrugged before explaining, “Tony sent the invitation yesterday, but since you didn’t come home I couldn't give it to you until now.”

You grabbed the invitation with trembling hands, this was an event prepared for some investors, students, and teachers of the different faculties Stark Industries worked with in the scholarship program. The same program you had earned 8 years ago, with trembling hands you grabbed the envelope and read the invitation.

Natasha offered a half smile, she finished her coffee and waited for you to talk.

“This may be your chance to actually get to know some important figures that can be interested in your job, don’t you think?” Natasha leaned forward pointing to the invitation, “and look at that.”

In the lower part of the invitation you read your name and then…

“Miss. Y/L/N and guest you are cordially invited…” You read he last part before glancing at a grinning Natasha, the woman had a glint of triumph in her eyes tha told you she had not only won her argument about you needing to be patient, but also she had gotten something out of the situation. “So, this is what you brought me here?”

You waved the invitation, Natasha leaned back her smile still in place.

“Yes, and no.” She stated softening her features. “I meant every word, Y/N, and that invitation shows Stark also believes in you, he knows you would hate for him to intervene, so he is giving you a chance by inviting you to a place where you can make connections.”

You snorted, shaking your head, your heart shrank with the cheer weight of your emotions.

“So, all I have to do is go to the party…with you?” You asked furrowing your brows, “why are you so interested in going?”

You couldn’t help but frown at the sudden change in attitude by Natasha, the young woman was suddenly shy, her eyes downcast leaning forward as if to tell you a secret. Now you were interested, this was the first time you saw Natasha acting all bashful and hesitant.

“Carol is going to be there.” Natasha was straightforward knowing by this point you didn’t need for her to pretend, and Natasha was really wanting to make you understand the great opportunity this party was going to be.

You opened your eyes in realization at the name of the Captain of the Royal Air Forces; this time around the blush in Natasha’s face was unmistakable and you couldn’t help but laugh. Natasha grumbled throwing her napkin at you rolling her eyes at being exposed so easily.

“So, you want me to go with you because you wanna get laid!”

“It is not because of sex, you idiot.” Natasha straightened up allowing the waitress to place the food and coffee on the table, once the young woman was gone Natasha continued. “Y/N she is…look last time it went awful, I just wanna have a chance to apologize and tell her…well, I just think I can…”

It was always funny seeing Natasha trying to grasp her language functions to explain exactly why she wanted to see Carol Danvers all over again after their failed attempts at a romance. You couldn’t blame Natasha, though, Carol was not only beautiful she was smart, and funny, and one hell of a woman. Natasha had been smitten from the beginning but her insecurities and past trauma, and past ex-girlfriend, had come in the way of her building something nice with the blond-haired woman.

You thought about this for a long time, when you heard about the Stark Industries Gala you dismissed the idea of going to such an event. You knew it was important, Tony had told you as much, indicating this would be the right place to start making contacts and get into the world you were so reluctant to be a part of. It was a necessity if you wanted to continue with your studies and get a respectable job, but you never thought you received a formal invitation or that your best friend would be so eager to go. Looking over at Natasha you knew you wouldn’t say no to her so, with a sigh you nodded curtly.

“Very well, we can go to function. But you better get me something nice to wear to this thing.”

“YES!! I love you!” Natasha exclaimed grinning like a fool, you chuckled rolling your eyes while the redhead steals some of your fries. “Let's finish this and go back to my place, I am pretty sure Yelena has something that can work on you.”

You shifted on the seat nodding, “hn, okay, I guess.”

“You don’t have to sound so excited,” Natasha gauged your expression before clearing her throat, “Look, I know you don’t like these things, and that this is not your main focus but…Tony is right, Y/N, you need the contacts and you need to start working on a network for your work This could be a chance for you to meet new people.”

“I don’t like meeting new people!” You exclaimed dramatically, Natasha shrugged.

“I know but it is not so bad and, who knows? Perhaps this is the place where you would finally meet the right person.”

You furrowed you brows grabbing one of Natasha’s fries while glancing at the smirking woman.

“The right person? I already know Stark, I think he constitutes the right person alright.”

Natasha rolled her eyes, “not that kind of person, dumbass, I am talking about the person that would finally make your heart beat just a little.”

You snorted in disbelief, while Natasha shrugged in a gesture that told you she was really considering this party to be everything you might need in life.

______________________________________________________________

Home House was a private club located at the heart of aristocratic London.

A palace built by James Wyatt under the orders of King George III. The palace was designed and built with high society in mind, the eccentric and intellectual class of early Eighteenth century England that was in the search of knowledge and conquest. With time, the Palace changed its history moulding itself as the beacon of culture, knowledge and power of the Empire transforming the world of Academics and cultural heritage; with the blessing of Queen Victoria, Home House entered the Twentieth Century  as the meeting place for those who had the power to shape the world.

Thus, that Tony Stark had chosen Home House as the venue for the Annual Stark Enterprise Gala was not a complete surprise.

Known as a genius, billionaire, married and philanthropist, Tony Stark was a man of business at heart. The preparation of his Annual Gala had taken careful planning, leading to a select group of guests that would lead the fields of politics, economics, and international relations for the upcoming year. Tony and his wife Pepper Potts had selected the Front Parlour alongside the Private Garden in the exclusive club to house the 200 guests they had invited over. 

Tony oversaw the event in person, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he observed those brilliant students that had earned the Stark Scholarship mingle with the high class and Europe leaders that may help them move forward in their careers.

The Club was filled with soft, classical music filled the room with the tender light of candelabra. The place was warm, and a great marquee was located in the garden to protect the guests from the rain; everything had been set up for students, investigators and investors to meet and talk about money and opportunities.

So far the Gala had been a complete success, people were mingling around and making good use of the new connections while some others had given in to the temptation of the free bar and the soft swing of the music.

Natasha had kept her word by getting you a dark cocktail dress that complemented your tone of skin and highlighted your honey-laced eyes. The high heels Natasha had chosen helped you look taller, but at not being used to that kind of footwear, your feet were hurting and you were holding yourself from the torture of walking around with such elegant hazards. 

So far the party had not been that bad, you got a chance to talk to several people and mingled around in interesting conversations. By the time Natasha left your side to join Carol, you had to face some eager, young men that had tried to give you a shot at flirting, with some cringe you let them down before moving out of the spotlight and hide In that little corner. The only one allowed to come at you was the cute waitress that had been your source of alcohol all through the night. 

Your eyes fell on the form of Tony, the man had his flirty smile on talking with every single person present in the room. His eyes darting around as if looking for someone, you winced knowing full well he had been looking for you most of the night. So far you were winning the hide and seek game Tony didn't know he was playing with you. 

Why did she accept to come to this event? 

You set your eyes on Natasha who was wearing the most revealing red dress she could find while talking with a blond-haired woman that at the moment seemed to be wearing her military uniform. You rolled your eyes, Natasha Romanoff was the reason you came to this party. Natasha Romanoff and her impossible libido, you snorted, emptying your champagne and looking around for your favorite waitress. 

“I surely hope, dear, that you didn't think I wouldn't find you before the night was over.” The voice of Tony Stark caught you by surprise, you winced turning around to see the man glancing at you amusedly, one eyebrow lifted with his hand nursing a glass of whisky.

“Tony, I wouldn't even dream of hiding from you. That would be too childish of me.” You said softly, Tony snorted, shaking his head while offering his right arm to you, after a moment of hesitation you took it and the both of you started walking around the room.

“I'm glad you came, even if you only did it to help Romanoff with Captain Danvers.” Tony spoke beside you leading you towards the garden.

You shrugged offering a tiny smile, “she really is quite smitten, and well.. I could use the distraction.”

Tony snorted, shaking his head, from the moment he had found you in the room he could see how uncomfortable you were and the pain you were enduring by wearing those high heels. 

“How are you doing, Y/N? Are you faring well with your studies?” He cocked his head, and those eyes gleamed with a tenderness you had seen just a couple of times.

“I am fine.” You finally said without much conviction, Tony raised a brow but didn’t press the matter.

With a roll of your eyes you continue, “I could be worse.”

This time around, Tony did laugh shaking his head while stopping the stroll facing the garden beyond the marquee.

“And, what about university? How about your investigation?” He asked genuinely.

“It is going just fine, to be honest. I am just…you know?” You shifted uncomfortably, you were not used to accept help or even ask for it, you had learnt a long time ago that accepting help would allow others to have control over you.

“No, I don’t know, that was one of the reasons I was asking you how you were.” Tony replied half amused and half exasperated.

“You know how I feel, why do you ask me these questions?” With a huff you turned your attention back to the party, your eyes wandering around the beautiful form of a brunette that seemed engrossed in a  conversation with another brunette with the most entrancing green eyes. You frowned, those eyes looked familiar. Tony cleared his throat and you returned your attention to him blushing lightly and being caught checking-out the other woman.

“Pepper missed you last weekend.” Tony stated, you flinched looking away.

“I know, she wrote me.” You mumbled letting out a heavy sigh. “Tony, look…I…I will end my studies pretty soon, and I will turn in my investigation, afterwards, I just…”

Tony waited patiently while you mumbled and babbled until you swallowed the lump on your throat.

“I haven’t received any formal invitation to join any…anything.” The words came rushing out of your mouth, and you clenched your jaw refusing to let the tears fall down. “I know that one of the conditions for my visa is to have a work, but apparently I am…not good enough.”

The sound of conversation, laughter and music became too much, you shifted on your feet while wincing with pain at the high heels. Tony placed a hand on your forearm; he had his brows put together shaking his head in a silent reproached that was mixed with amusement and exasperation. You blinked tilting your head at the reaction of the man in front of you, a man you had considered your big brother from the day you two met.

“You are good, Y/N, you are a genius in your area of expertise.” Tony smirked at you leading you into an adjacent room, you grew confused while your eyes settled on the open door leading to a balcony.

“I know, but…I mean, it doesn’t matter if I don’t get a proposal, or…” You trailed off narrowing your eyes at Tony. “What did you do?”

Tony lifted his hands in defence shaking his head, though his smirk only grew.

“I didn’t do anything; I merely offered myself to bring you over and introduce you to your new boss.”

“Tony…” You stated warningly standing still before following Tony any further, you glared at him. “Explain!”

Tony rolled his eyes standing in front of you, “I received a call a couple of days ago, they were asking for personal and professional reference from you. When I found out who was behind this credentials validation, I have to be the one to introduce you to your future boss.”

You stood there with a hammering heart, and sweating hands.

You were about to finish your investigation, by now every single one of your classmates had received an invitation or proposal to join some company, organization, or governmental agency. A part of you grew restless, and the doubts that had always plagued your confidence and self-esteem, had come back with a dark cloud that settled above your head and heart. Seeing the childish enthusiasm in Tony’s face told you the man wasn’t joking, but what it he…

“I didn’t intervene.” Tony was quick to read the unasked question, “I was asked to give references, nothing else.”

“Tony, I…” The words tangled in your throat, a lump forming in there that made it impossible to talk. You offered a shaky smiled that Tony returned with full confidence.

“Now, suck it up, kiddo, and let’s meet your new boss.” He said fixing your hair and dress making sure he didn’t mess with the makeup while leading you towards the balcony.

 —------‐—-

The moment Wanda Maximoff set foot on the club she knew the party would be a disaster.

The first sight that greeted her as soon as she entered the main room was that of Jarvis and Jessica hand in hand with Jessica showing on her recently acquired engagement ring. Wanda felt her world shattered when her eyes met those of Jarvis, the man smiled brightly at her approaching Wanda with Jessica by his side.

“Wands, looking good.” Jarvis leaned in but stopped when he noticed the glare coming from Wanda and the tension on her shoulders.

“Thank you, Vi…Jarvis.” Wanda tried to sound casual, to not raise any suspicions, but it was obvious Jarvis had caught up with her mood.

“Are you alright?” Jarvis asked tenderly, Wanda clenched her jaw, her eyes gleaming in disbelief.

Before anything could be said or done, Kate Bishop came saving the day. There young woman flashed a bright smile that didn't reach her eyes, Jarvis winced drifting her stare from Kate to Wanda, realization dawning on him. 

“Oh, Jarvis-Jar,” Kate smirked at the twitch coming from the man, he hated that nickname. “Looking good, congratulations to you and Jess, may the both of you have a happy marriage, full of fidelity and love.”

“Oh, Kate, that's so sweet.” Jessica giggled finally joining the group of friends, Kate offered a half smile before dragging Wanda away.

“Sorry, guys, Wanda and I have a commitment and we cannot be late!”

Before either Jarvis or Jessica could say anything, Wanda and Kate disappeared in the ocean of people looking for an exit to the garden.

The cold wind from the night was like a sharp caress on Wanda’s sensitive skin. She had her eyes closed taking a deep breath, aware of Kate’s eyes on her.

“Wanda,” Kate started tentatively, Wanda offered a crooked smile no her eyes in the distance.

“I should have known he would be here,” Wanda said closing her eyes to try and regulate the beating of his heart.

Kate hesitated for a moment before she set a hand on top of Wanda’s one, the young woman shook her eyes, and by the time she opened her green eyes were filled with unshed tears.

“I can’t do it, Kate.” Wanda mumbled brokenly.

Kate step closer but stop herself, if she were to hug her friend she was pretty sure Wanda would start crying. Wanda offered a crooked smile before emptying the glass of whisky she had grabbed from a tray; Wanda wished she could drink some more but she was a light drinker and it was not the moment nor the time to drown away her sorrows. Kate worried her lower lip on her teeth, before she too drank her glass of whisky making a face that brough a real smile to Wanda’s face. After a moment of hesitation, Kate decided to talk again.

“You know, we came and people already saw us, if you want, we can go.” Kate gauged Wanda’s reaction, she was hoping for her friend to just give in to get out of the place and not having to see Jarvis more than they should, however, just as Kate was about to pursue the topic some more Wanda’s eyes gleamed strangely.

“What? What is it?” Kate turned around, her eyes going wide before she turned to Wanda.

“Whose that talking to Stark?” For some reason, Wanda got her abdomen knotting at the sight of the young woman. There was something familiar about her, but…

Kate glanced up then back at Wanda, “I think she…I mean, it couldn’t be, but you know, perhaps?”

Wanda rolled her eyes, her lips curving into an exasperated but pretty honest smile.

“You didn’t say anything at all,” Wanda said raising a brow before nodding to the woman with Stark. “You know her?”

Kate winced torn between telling Wanda who was that woman, or letting her friend spiralled even more into depression because of Jarvis.

“Well, you remember last year? Halloween?” Kate said tentatively, as soon as she said Halloween Kate could see the glint of recognition on Wanda’s green eyes.

“Yes! God, that little…”

“Wanda.”

Before Wanda could react or actually said anything at all, a man in a wheelchair came to her. He was offering a kind smile and his eyes had not left those of Wanda as she smiled back, with a hint of confusion in her posture.

“Uncle Charles, I thought you wouldn’t come to this event.”  Wanda leaned in hugging the man who broke into a content smile.

“Well, I have an extenuating circumstance that needed my attention.” He glanced from Wanda to Kate, the other woman waved a hand to Charle before stepping back.

“Right, nice to see you, Mr. Xavier, I think I will be around.” Kate said walking backwards, Charles Xavier turned to Wanda and soon both of them were smiling.

“So I take it I am your extenuating circumstance?” Wanda observed as Kate was approached by a young woman, Wanda then returned her attention to Charles.

“Partially, yes. I also came here to meet with someone, now help an old man and take me to the other room, we need to talk.”

Wanda couldn't hide her wince, this sounded like one of those serious conversations she was not fancy to have any moment now. With a sigh and one last glare to the woman talking to Stark, Wanda took Charles out of the garden into the adjacent room .

—------

The universe had a strange way of working its design.

Your first real meeting with Wanda Maximoff was a complete disaster. You stepped into the balcony with Tony by your side, the young woman stood by Carles Xavier who directed his stare to the newcomers. Wanda had her green eyes on you, with a slight twitch on her eye and a fiery stare, you understood Wanda had recognized you. And she remembered you. Wanda narrowed her eyes, pursing her lips while you offered a half smile, full of amusement and challenge.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Maximoff herself,” You said rather impressed, laughter tainting your words, “isn’t it weird we always meet at parties? Hopefully this won’t end up like the last Halloween party, eh?”

The slap caught everyone by surprise, Wanda took a deep breath, her eyes growing big at her sudden reaction. She could see the flash of anger in your eyes, as well as the incredulity at what had transpired. But before anyone could do or say anything at all, Wanda clenched her jaw and left.

There was a moment of incredulous silence, before Tony turned to you with questioning eyes. You winced, pursing your lips while placing your hand on your cheek.

“I mean, I probably deserve that.” You said lamely, Charles Xavier laughed lifting his eyes to Tony then back at you.

“You are going to be surprised when you meet her,” Charles said, glancing at Tony, “that was what you told me when I asked you about Miss. Y/L/N.”

Tony chuckled, shrugging, “I think it is good to say we were all surprised.”

You chuckled nervously, your eyes drifting from Tony to Charles, blushing as you tried to explain.

“it wasn’t my intention, I swear I thought she probably…” You trailed off as whatever you could say about the topic would mean you would be in the spotlight for something you actually didn’t think necessary to mention at the moment.

“It is perfectly fine,” Charles said kindly, “my goddaughter has quite the temper, and I am pretty sure that whatever the story behind this circumstance is, I am sure it is not what you two had come to me to talk about.”

You had to agree with Charles, the reason behind the slap was not something you should be discussing at the moment, but you mind keep nagging you with memories of what had happened moments ago. Soon, Tony came forward stretching the hand of Charles before he pointed at you.

“As promised, this is my protegee Y/N,” Toney made a face and you stepped forward offering a tentative smile.

“A pleasure to meet you, sorry about…” You trailed off gesturing with your hands, Charles shared a laugh while Tony rolled his eyes.

“I was keen to meet with you, Miss. Y/L/N. I have heard of you from your teachers, the Oxford research team and of course, from Tony.” Charles then smirked, his eyes gleaming mischievous. “Now I have to add Wanda to the list of recommendations.”

You blushed mortified, but the older man merely snickered tilting his head with deep, sharp eyes pinning you to the spot.

“Very well, Y/N, let's talk about business.”

It was past midnight by the time you found Natasha talking with Carol in the parking lot. Your friend was looking satisfied, and rather smut when she caught sight of you. You couldn’t help the matching smile, a single brow lifted in a non-verbal communication with your best friend.

“Did you drink too much?” Natasha asked, passing you the keys of the car, you snorted, shaking your head.

“A couple of champagne shots, nothing else.” You let your eyes drift to the blond-haired woman waiting patiently, then back to Natasha who was grinning like mad. “So, you will have a good night?”

Natasha shifted hiding her blush before locking eyes with you. 

“You are one to talk, you disappeared most of the night.” Natasha chuckled at your reaction, placing her hand on your forearm. “Everything okay?”

This time around there was a genuine hint of concern, her green eyes gleaming lightly. You opened your mouth until your eyes found those of Carol then  you turned back to Natasha.

“Yeah, go back to your date, we will talk later today.” You shrugged, “lunch at the pub?”

“Count me in, be careful on your way back home.”

“I will, careful and…do everything I will do, Natasha!” You screamed, waving at Natasha who was glaring at you before guiding Carol to her car.

They disappeared into the night, with Carol Danver driving a luxurious car with Natasha sitting comfortably on the passenger seat. You stood in the parking lot long enough to see Wanda Maximoff stumbled out of the adjacent building leading to the garden.

You stood frozen in place, the young woman seemed to be tumbling over her own footsteps. Just before she crashed against the ground a pair of strong arms held her tightly, Wanda blinked a couple of times before her head lifted to meet a pair of honey eyes.

“You!” Her words came with a slurred, and you were not sure she was looking at you or someone else to your right.

“Wanda!”

You turned towards the newcomer, it was the same brunette you had seen Wanda with early that night. The young woman narrowed her eyes at you before rushing to Wanda.

“She almost fell down.” You tried to explain, your heart hammering against your chest when Wanda pressed her body against yours.

“I know you.” She all but whispered, her index finger drawing the edges of your chin.

You opened your eyes in panic glancing to Wanda and then to the other woman who came in wrapping her arms around Wanda. 

“Wanda, come…” Kate was not a rival to a drunk Wanda, and she almost lost her footing if you hadn't intervened.

Kate found your eyes, there was a hint of apology in her dark irises, and all you could only offer a half smile.

“She is quite a handful eh?” You commented, this time around you could see a ghost of a smile on Kate's face.

“Not handful, no loove able…” Wanda slurred leaning against you, her face resting in the crook of your neck. “Mm, jus’ ‘ired.”

Tears poured into her green eyes, and soon you had Wanda crying on you. You had stopped breathing, your eyes wide open while Kate merely winced waving her hand to a blue car parked at the other side of the parking lot.

“Can you help me out? I don't think I would be able to carry her on my own.” Kate all but mouthed with a hush whispers so as to not interrupt Wanda’s sobbing babbling.

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes drifting to your car then to Kate’s car and finally to the young brunette crying on your shoulder. With a heavy sigh, you nodded and soon you and Kate were taking a crying Wanda to the car making sure she was secured on the passenger seat before Kate closed the door letting out a huff.

“Thank you.” Kate stretched her hand your way, a single smile adorning her features. “Kate Bishop.”

You snorted, taking her hand, “Y/N Y/L/N.”

Kate locked her eyes with yours, for a moment you saw a spark of recognition that was soon replaced by polite gratefulness.

“Thank you for helping me with Wanda. She…” Kate trailed off, not sure how to explain the situation without giving out Wanda’s secrets. 

“No problem,” you said hesitating before glancing at the brunette that was now snoozing inside the car. “Are you sure you and her are going to be fine?”

Kate winced, nodding hesitantly. “Yes, I think we will, I live with another person so I guess we could handle her if necessary.”

“If you are sure.” You said stepping back, your eyes never leaving the sleeping form of Wanda. With a sharp jolt of concern shooting through your mind straight to your head you took another step back. 

“I guess…drive safe, then.” You mumbled glancing as Kate hesitated for a moment before going into the car and driving away with Wanda.

You stood there for what seemed like an eternity, the cold air of the night sneaking into your clothes making you shivered. For a moment, all you could see was the saddened expression of the brunette, the warmth of her body against yours, the tears and the drunkenly babbling. Then, memories of Halloween night almost a year ago came crashing back and you shook your head frowning.

Wanda Maximoff was a bitch.

That much you remembered.

Then, without another thought, you walked towards your car getting rid of your high heels while sitting on the driver's seat. With a heavy sigh, you turned on the engine and drove into the night towards the flat you shared with Natasha.

The night was finally over.

But your life had already changed in ways you could barely imagine.

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AN: So, this is the first chapter, i hope you guys enjoy it! tell me what you think and don't forget to like and share it you so want it!