#pretty sure i had a tag here about freaking out about there only being the epilogue left

[waltwhitmansbeard]

my fair lady: chapter thirty

lol if you saw this back in january (or approximately twelve hours ago) congrats on witnessing some peak dumbassery. i deleted the old post so i have no idea what i wrote here originally but rest assured it was clever and helpful. here's the previous chapters and extra special shout-out to @romeoandjulietyouwish for letting me know that this posted early way back when.

Black. In every direction, deep, inky black. It presses in on Vax's eyeballs, seeps into his lungs. The black is oppressive, and yet there is peace in it, he thinks. He exists in the black, with little sense of his body or his breath, and settling over him like a fog rolling in off the sea is the understanding that he is in the realm of the Raven Queen.

He stands—or floats, perhaps, he isn't really sure—in silence. Vax has many skills, and patience is chief among them. If she wishes to speak to him, surely the goddess of death knows where he is. He has no way of gauging the passage of time, if such a thing can even be measured here, so when the mask appears, it is both sudden and inevitable.

The mask is featureless, an unremarkable set of eyes, an average nose, a plain mouth, all porcelain white. It hovers just above him, some indeterminate distance away. If Vax was confident that he had hands, he might try to reach out and graze his fingertips along the cheek, to see if it is as smooth as it appears.

"Vax'ildan." The voice, sourceless, is soft, not as low as a whisper, but calm, subdued. It is the voice of a woman, though last he heard it, it was coming from the beak of a bird. "Welcome."

"My lady." The guilt swells up inside of him. He regrets it now, how he never said goodbye, never went back for his sister, never gave his wife their final kiss. "I am a man of my word, and I am prepared to resign myself to your realm forever. I only ask, by your mercy, a few extra hours, to make my peace before I go."

The mask moves closer, or perhaps just grows larger. "Vax'ildan, I believe there has been a...misunderstanding."

He blinks, and then the mask is only a few feet before him, and it is being worn by a woman robed in black with long, flowing black hair. She is of a height with Vax, her head tilted just to the side in what he guesses is curiosity.

"Misunderstanding?"

"I have not brought you here to claim your soul into my realm. You, my sweet, are to be my Champion."

All at once, Vax is in his body. He looks down, and in the darkness he can see his hands, and he knows himself to be corporeal, whatever that means here. He looks back up at the goddess. "I am no champion, my lady. I am a thief, and a rogue, and a bastard, nothing befitting the honor of a god."

A ghostly pale hand extends toward him, and though she seems too far away, her fingers gently caress his cheek. "So many villains imagine themselves heroes. So few heroes think they are the villain." The hand falls away. "My chosen, you are exactly the one I require to enact my will in your realm. Even from the shadows, you walk the path of righteousness, of nature, of life. You seek to dance on the threads of fate, not to cut them or pull them from my tapestry. This is what I need."

"I don't understand. I bargained my life to save Keyleth's."

"You pledged your life to me, and it is now mine to use, and I hope to use it well. As my Champion, you will stand against those who seek to escape death and you will challenge those who defy fate. My enemies chase undeath and immortality. My enemies work to wrest control of their destinies from me, the weaver of fate. You will strike down these enemies, and you will maintain the balance between life and death."

Vax's brow furrows. "And is this balance not tipped by my continued life? If my love died, and I do not die in her stead, will not the harmony between life and death be disrupted?"

For the briefest moment, Vax swears he sees the corners of the porcelain mouth curl up. "Did you not listen to your beloved in Syngorn?" His face must expose his confusion. "She told you, my Champion, that your purpose lies beyond dying for her. She is wise, your queen, your love. She speaks true. I have claimed your purpose for my own ends. This is the price you will pay for your lover's life."

Vax's mind is swimming with doubt and hope and elation and trepidation and awe. "But I...I can stay with her? With my sister?"

"Your actions are your own, Vax'ildan, so long as you continue my mission in your realm."

He can hardly breathe. "I...thank you, my lady. I will serve you well."

"I have little doubt, my Champion. Now." The hand comes up again to tap him once in the center of his forehead. "Wake up."

Vax shoots up with a gasp, blinking wildly as he tries to orient himself. He is in a bed, and there are sheets, and then there are hands on his bare shoulder. "Vax?" He turns, and Keyleth's face is there, eyes wide with concern. "Are you alright?"

He takes a few moments, willing his breath to come under control. He lifts a hand to rest against her cheek. "Yes, I...apologize. You should go back to sleep." Just then, a wave of emotion crashes over him, and he smiles, and the smile turns into a laugh, and the laugh dissolves into tears.

Keyleth is looking at him with bewilderment, running one hand up and down his back. "I...am entirely at a loss right now."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He takes her face and pulls her in for a kiss. "I'm not going anywhere."

The bafflement remains. "I should hope not. Where would you be going?"

And then it spills out, the entire story. He begins with Finefirn's appearance in her chambers, the scuffle in the room, and the attempted escape. Then he has to break the news to his wife that she died, and when he does his tears are no longer tears of relief. She claps a hand over her mouth in shock, tears of her own spilling forth, and he grabs her other hand and presses on with his story. He describes running, panicking, trying to get somewhere, anywhere safe. He tells her of the small shrine to the Raven Queen, and how empty and cold he felt laying her body out on the floor. At this point, Keyleth is squeezing his hand so tightly it's a wonder his fingers don't break, but still she says nothing, only listens with bated breath.

Then he explains his conversation with the goddess of death, and he does not mince his words. He informs her of the bargain he made, and what he believed himself to be agreeing to at the time. Before he can finish, the hand on Keyleth's face whips out and slaps him across the shoulder.

"Ow!" he yelps, rubbing his arm with a pout.

"How dare you," she breathes.

"How dare I? Have you forgotten what it was I was hired to do?"

Her eyes flash. "Have you forgotten that we are married and that your position in this castle means nothing to me when compared to your life?"

"Listen to me." He looks her dead in the eyes. "There is no world in which I let you die when I have the option to prevent it. There is no world in which I live on without you when you could have been saved. You can choose to be angry with me for this if you wish but know that it is not going to change. I will always, always put you first." And then he blinks, remembering that there is another who has been asked to be prioritized, one whose mission is now Vax's mission.

Keyleth's anger has started to melt into worry. "But what does this mean? Are you...am I going to lose you?"

"Just listen." He continues on his story: their escape through the catacombs, making it to his home in Zephrah, being so sure that at any moment, he was going to be snatched away to the domain of the Raven Queen. He tells her about the conversations with his sister, with Percy, and about his attempt to see her after she'd been brought here to the castle. When he recounts the confrontation he'd had with her father, her eyes go wide with shock.

"You just...burst out with it?" She buries her face in her hands.

"I was distraught! I believed myself to be moments away from being taken from you forever, and I thought that if I died before seeing you one last time, I would go mad. I am sorry for it."

"No wonder he was so upset," she groans. "But then what? Why do you say that you're not going anywhere?"

He's closing in on the end of his tale. He describes sitting in the holding cell, terrified that he was going to die before he could say his goodbyes, and then coming to see her and being unable to say them anyway. And then he details the dream—or, not a dream, a communion?—he'd just had with the goddess of death herself. Keyleth pays rapt attention to his every word.

"And then she told me that as long as I serve her, I may remain here, with you, with my sister." He takes her face in his hands and tips their foreheads together. "Kiki, I am allowed to stay."

She heaves a sob and throws her arms around his neck. "What a thing it is, to learn you are to lose your love and keep him all at once." She pulls back and claps her hands to his shoulders. "I hope you believe me then, now that you have heard it directly from a god. You are meant for more than sacrifice. You have so much to offer this world, and it would be a grievous crime for it all to be lost for the benefit of a single other."

He brushes her hair back behind her shoulder. "We shall have to agree to disagree, my love. But if the Raven Queen demands my loyalty in exchange for even an extra hour with you, I will serve her gladly." He glances past her to the darkness outside. "There is still some time before dawn. You should get some more rest."

An uncharacteristically mischievous smile tugs at the edges of her mouth. "Perhaps I am not as tired as I was." She lets her hands trail slowly down his arms. "Perhaps I need to show my husband how overjoyed I am at his triumph over death."

He lets out a low groan. "What did I tell you of tempting me, devil woman?"

Her impish grin has widened, and she gently pushes him back against the sheets. "Perhaps you need to be reminded that while you may serve a goddess, you serve a queen as well."

And he lets her teach him a most valuable lesson.

.

In the morning, tired and sore in newer, more pleasant ways, they meet with her father. Keyleth has resolved to tell him the truth, the entire truth, with one glaring exception: she will not tell him of her death. Vex had not divulged that detail when she informed him of Keyleth's escape to hers and Vax's cottage, and Keyleth is choosing to keep it in the small circle of those who already know. She has caused her father enough stress these past few weeks, and he does not deserve to have weighing on his conscience the knowledge that his only child was, even briefly, dead.

He listens to them fumble through the beginnings of their love story over breakfast, Keyleth blushing furiously and stammering through each sentence as she recounts their early days, their desperate attempts to stop the inevitable, and the inevitable happening anyway. Vax cannot stop apologizing for overstepping his bounds as her guard, though he promises on his life that it never once interfered with his duty to protect her, and Keyleth cuts him off to absorb the blame, reminding them both that she was the one who had the responsibility to respect the power balance between them. Her father watches them trip over each other with a look in his eye somewhere between exhaustion and amusement.

Once he has the whole story, from their attempts at staying away from each other to Vax's bargain with the Raven Queen to save her life, her father steeples his fingers in front of him and sits in silence. Keyleth's leg bounces nervously beneath the table, and her eyes dart between him and Vax, whose own expression is infuriatingly placid. When he catches her looking at him, he offers a small, reassuring smile, but she is far from placated.

After a lifetime, her father turns and calls over his shoulder, "Grog!" Keyleth shares a wild look with Vax, convinced that he is about to be hauled off to the dungeons again. Grog opens the door to the small dining chamber and peeks inside. "Please have Mistress Pike summoned here at once."

"Yes, Your Majesty." The door closes again, and now Keyleth is even more confused.

"I want you to explain to our Mistress of Divinity what you've just told me, Vax'ildan," he says quietly. Vax nods slowly, looking as unsure as Keyleth feels.

It only takes a few minutes for the door to reopen and Pike to scurry inside. She approaches the table with a bow. "How may I be of service, Your Majesty?"

"Vax?"

Vax recounts his two conversations with the Raven Queen for Pike, who listens on with wide, excited eyes. When he uses the word Champion, Pike's jaw fully drops, and Vax cuts himself off. "What?"

"She called you her Champion?"

"Yes."

"Oh Vax." She turns to the sovereign. "This is going to mean a lot of paperwork for me, isn't it?"

Keyleth's father chuckles low. "My apologies, Pike."

"Can someone tell us what's going on?" Keyleth demands.

"Being the Champion of a god isn't some small thing." Pike reaches up onto the table and snags a knife. She walks over to Vax and says, "If a god has chosen you, then..." Before either Keyleth or Vax can stop her, she settles the blade over her palm and slices quickly, leaving a bleeding gash behind.

Keyleth yelps and Vax immediately snatches up a napkin to staunch the bleeding. "What the hell, Pike?"

"Heal me."

Vax looks at her like she's lost her mind. "What?"

"Heal me."

Bewildered, Vax removes the napkin and places his hand over the wound, as Keyleth herself has done to his, and Keyleth watches him concentrate. After a few seconds, the skin on either side of the cut begins to stitch itself back together, and Vax's face blooms in surprise. "How...?"

"You are a god's chosen," Pike whispers, her voice filled with wonder. "This comes with both power and responsibility."

"And," Keyleth's father interjects, "it comes with a title."

Keyleth's head whips to face him. "It does?"

He nods. "You are no longer Vax, a common guard. You are Vax'ildan, Champion of the Raven Queen. It is a title that transcends nation or alliance." He smiles wryly. "Technically, you are no longer my subject, but instead answer only to the Raven Queen herself."

Keyleth's mind is whirring to keep up with the rapid influx of information. "If he is titled, that means any legal objection to our marriage would be unfounded."

Her father nods. "Congratulations, my daughter. You married up."

Vax leaps from his seat and picks Pike up in a bear hug, lifting her clear off of the ground and spinning her around in a circle. She squeals, "Let me down!" and he obliges, his face bursting with more joy than Keyleth has ever seen there.

"Thank you, Pickle," he says, and then he turns to Keyleth's father and bows. "And thank you, Your Majesty."

Her father stands, walks around the table toward Vax, and clasps their forearms together. "Thank you, Champion. For protecting her. For loving her."

"It's what I was meant to do," Vax answers, and Keyleth watches the two most important men in her life nod to each other with respect, and she feels that perhaps no one in all of history has ever been this happy.

[astonmartinii]

i like a girl in uniform | lando norris social media au

pairing: lando norris x fem vet!reader

little leo leclerc needs a trip to the vet, lando was just being a good friend but the vet tech was definitely a plus

based on the request by: @volleygal06

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 1,304,893 others

charles_leclerc: this dramatic little boy decided he wanted to eat every piece of grass he could find and got poorly, thank you to austin vet clinic for helping us out and getting him back into shape :)

view all comments

user1: leo is so dramatic, he's so me

user2: leo leclerc is the dramatic girl representation we need in the f1 paddock

pierregasly: please word your texts better, i thought someone had actually died

charles_leclerc: he nearly did!

landonorris: he did not, you're just a helicopter parent

pierregasly: wait why was lando with you and not me?

charles_leclerc: he just happened to be there and i needed a lift

landonorris: because he was freaking out

charles_leclerc: but he conveniently he decided he really cared about leo's wellbeing when he saw the vet tech

pierregasly: ohhhhh i see

landonorris: what! no! i'm a good friend!

charles_leclerc: sure, jan.

user3: fuckboy lando has re-entered the chat

user4: his slutiness knows no bounds

yourusername: he's such a precious little guy, i'm glad i could get him back to feeling himself. good luck to both of you this weekend!

charles_leclerc: thank you so much for your time, you definitely were the calm we needed

yourusername: ahahaha you're just a good dad to your fur baby

landonorris: thank you! any chance you can be my lucky charm this weekend?

yourusername: do you flirt with all the vet techs like this?

landonorris: only the cute ones

yourusername: i see...

landonorris: but i can still interest you in a coffee?

yourusername: i'll see if i'm free

user5: that was .... tragic

oscarpiastri: well that was something

alexalbon: you'd think he'd be better at it by now

georgerussell63: i have to have faith he's better at this in person

maxverstappen1: i'm kind of enjoying this show tbf

landonorris: i can read this?

alexalbon: take the constructive feedback

yourusername

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 11,563 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: never a boring day here, leo was just the loveliest boy ever

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user6: okay turns out i am no better than lando

user7: if you heard barking that wasn't me

landonorris: are you sure he was THE loveliest boy, or are you just being nice because he's a puppy?

alexalbon: bro is jealous of a dog

yourusername: i'm sorry lando, but leo was a very brave boy

landonorris: i can be brave too!

oscarpiastri: you wouldn't let me sit at the same table as you at a restaurant because i ordered salmon

landonorris: well yes but that's also because it's you - when i go on a date with y/n, if she ordered salmon i would live with it

yourusername: when i go on a date with you?

landonorris: our date on sunday?

yourusername: oh really?

landonorris: i'll pick you up, wear something pretty x

user8: i have no idea whether that worked or not

user9: it was a loser move, but i would cave as well

user10: lando is unbelievably lame but he's also a millionaire f1 driver so i guess he can do what he wants

alexalbon: no it was lame and you guys should continue to tell him that

landonorris: trust the process alex

georgerussell63: the last time we trusted the process your dms where you tried to go on a maccies date were leaked

yourusername: i am NOT coming if you're taking me to mcdonalds 🤨

charles_leclerc: he takes after his mother :)

yourusername: awwwww, based on how many times he pissed on you, i think he's definitely a mummy's boy

charles_leclerc: tbf i'll do anything she says too

yourusername: @landonorris take notes if you want a date ^^

user11: american races i will never not complain about you but you have given me entertainment before the cars have even gotten on track

user12: idk this kinda proves my theory that the american races are just one big humiliation ritual for f1

f1tea

liked by user14, user15 and 18,304 others

tagged: yourusername

f1tea: the vet tech, y/n y/ln, who helped leo is in the paddock for qualifying.

view all comments

user16: oh wow she's actually so pretty

user17: also like she just looks like a normal fucking person

user18: that's probably because she is a normal person

user19: okay queen is turning a fucking look

user20: she looks so effortless i love her already

user21: i beg you people don't get parasocial already, she's a vet tech who will probably just be here for the weekend

user22: not if lando has any say in it 😭

user23: i honestly think good for her for having him so down bad but i also pray for her for when the twitter girls catch on

user24: they've already found all of her personal details poor gal

user25: so like which garage is she in this weekend?

user26: she came in with alex and leo so i think it's a safe bet to guess ferrari

user27: i think the 13 year olds would actually have an aneurysm if she was in the mclaren garage

user28: i kinda want to see the meltdown

user29: the way ted kravitz shoved his microphone in her face killed me

user30: girl was so fucking confused

user31: the way she said 'i guess i'm a charles fan? i don't know i met him yesterday and he offered me tickets after i helped leo?'

user32: alex trying not to laugh right next to her when ted was asking her so many questions

user33: lando just fell to his knees in the mclaren garage

yourusername

liked by alexsaintmleux, landonorris and 24,509 others

tagged: f1 & charles_leclerc

yourusername: thanks for the hospitality charles and ferrari! this has been a dream come true x

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user37: girl rocked up to her job, met THE leo leclerc and got a paddock pass

user38: why does leo never eat a load of grass when i'm on shift

user39: ugh why does this stuff not happen to me :(

charles_leclerc: i'm glad i could repay you beyond leo's vet fees!

yourusername: i did not know this sport was so god damn stressful and it wasn't even the race 😭

charles_leclerc: are you sure you can't make it tomorrow, there's still a ticket with your name on it?

yourusername: just say you and alex want a free dogsitter

charles_leclerc: guilty!

charles_leclerc: no but seriously if you wanna pull a sick day, we have a ticket for you

yourusername: all of my managers follow you on instagram, so i think that might be off the cards now

charles_leclerc: ..... oh

yourusername: it's like you people forget you're famous

user40: she's not here for the race :(((

user41: rip y/n y/ln in the paddock 2024-2024, forever in our hearts

user42: we'll never forget the ted's notebook episode of him being humbled by her

landonorris: you're not here for the race ? :(

yourusername: i have a job babe

landonorris: but but but i never got to take you out

yourusername: i technically never even agreed to that

landonorris: but hypothetically if i happened to be in your vicinity on sunday evening, would you change your mind?

yourusername: i'm sure you'll be out celebrating mr racer boy

landonorris: so you think i'm good 😊

yourusername: well you're starting third so i guess so?

landonorris: don't count out a more lowkey celebration ;)

alexalbon: is this loser son of a bitch actually going to secure a date

landonorris: i told you guys to trust the process

yourusername: i can literally read this right now ?

landonorris: I'M DOWN BAD LET A MAN LIVE

landonorris

liked by danielricciardo, oscarpiastri and 1,429,788 others

tagged: yourusername

landonorris: i told the pretty girl i'd win something for her desk and i did ;)

view all comments

user43: holy moly he did it

user44: this is possibly bigger than his first win

user45: proved he can drive and is not completely sauceless

user46: is he at the vets in his sweaty-ass racesuit?

oscarpiastri: YES HE IS AND HE RAN BEFORE WE COULD DEBRIEF SO NOW I HAVE TO WAIT FOR HIS WHIPPED ASS TO COME BACK TO THE PADDOCK BEFORE I CAN GO TO BED

landonorris: your tone seems very pointed

oscarpiastri: it is indeed very pointed, i am so tired and you're so down bad that i'm going to have to sleep at the track

landonorris: well that sounds like a you problem

oscarpiastri: you are such a failure in this department that i'll let you off but i expect a tow next weekend

landonorris: anything i don't mind

oscarpiastri: this is levels of down bad i have never seen before

yourusername: i happen to like my men desperate and pathetic

landonorris: hehehhehehehhehe :P

user47: i now know way too much about these people

user48: at least all this public humiliation was worth it in the end for lando?

alexalbon: this pizza in the car date is very reminiscent of the proposed hotel maccies date ....

yourusername: why are you always up in our business

alexalbon: i've known this gremlin for far too long, if anything i'm looking out for you

yourusername: please refer to my previous comment about my preferences

alexalbon: you people are perfect for each other 🤨

yourusername: i can't deny a pretty boy when he's worked so hard to impress me

maxverstappen1: pretty sure that's just his day job to drive fast

yourusername: LET ME HAVE THIS FUCK OFF

landonorris: i knew i had one shot for you to take me seriously

yourusername: oh i was always going to say yes to a date, i just wanted to see just how much you wanted it

landonorris: well i wanted it and i want many more SO BADLY

yourusername: we'll see what we can do...

landonorris: HEHHEHHEHEHEHHEHEHE :)))))))))

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 34,109 others

tagged: landonorris

yourusername: someone tell this man he has a job and he has to leave

view all comments

user51: y/n's photography has shown me what the lando girls see for once

user52: i agree i am MOVED

yourusername: 🤨

user53: bro went on one date and thinks she's special

yourusername: more dates than you :P

user54: ugh finally a wag that fights back

landonorris: but i don't wanna leave you 😩

yourusername: i don't particularly want you to go either but somehow zak has gotten my personal number and wants you at the airport and i'm scared he'll get my address next

landonorris: tell him to fuck off next time

yourusername: he's your boss? WHAT IF HE GETS MY ADDRESS

oscarpiastri: not to sound like a sweat but he is actively looking for your address with cartoonish steam coming out of his ears

yourusername: LANDO IF YOU LIKE ME AS MUCH AS YOU SAY PLEASE MAKE SURE YOUR PSYCHO BOSS DOES NOT COME TO MY HOUSE

landonorris: ugh anything for you i guess

user55: i'm not sure how we got here but they're so hot

user56: he is PUNCHING SO BAD

landonorris: she's a literal goddess i know

yourusername: take notes ladies xx

landonorris: no but seriously, i don't want to leave you - can't you come to brazil?

yourusername: sorry babe i have a job i need to go to

landonorris: PLEASE

yourusername: but what about all the sick animals :(

landonorris: i guess :(

user57: what kind of spell is he under it's been THREE DAYS

landonorris: i love a girl in uniform

yourusername: even if it's scrubs covered in cat piss

landonorris: i find you sexy in anything, but preferably nothing ...

yourusername: right back at you xo

fin.

note: babes i am SWAMPED but i hope you enjoyed!

[rationaliity]

new lesson | aeon! dr. ratio x f. reader ( 18+ )

not a continuation post but more like a horny extra sideplot you're welcome you freaks /j in which our aeon ratio has come to learn that he, too, has human desires. he's perhaps a little too fond of his emanator, and perhaps his emanator is a little too pretty for him to be able to control himself. my aeon ratio plot here tags : face fucking, mind break, power play, mind control, consensual nonconsent that turns into to consent, painful sex, womb penetration, dacryphilia, asphyxiation, begging / whining / crying, use of the term 'girl', religious imagery sorta, ratio has a huge dick and it hurts, he also doesn't know the limits of the human body and pushes you way past yours, coercion almost, obsession, mention of stalking, yandere ratio, reader almost loses consciousness twice, struggling, afab anatomy, finger fucking, possessiveness, mean ratio calls you a failure once god x disciple word count : roughly 4000

the aeon of dissemination has taught you plenty while you were underneath his tutelage. so many whispers of the cosmos that others would fail to hear, so many secrets untold, shared only by those in the know. an all-powerful being with much more power than you could ever hope to know, yes, and yet.. during your private lessons together, you found yourself bearing witness to his more human side more often than not. your time together was much less a deity whispering incomprehensible knowledge to his devout pupil, and much more a civil conversation between humans. almost.

you were his emanator, which meant that you derived your power directly from him. this caused you to be able to reach heights previously unknown to you, but it also became your shackles. you were bound to his word, for his word was law. if he told you to bark, you would bark. you had no choice in the matter. if he told you to, by any chance, strip down and worship naked at his feet, well, you couldn't deny him that, either.

ratio had grown to enjoy his time with you. no, rather, he had grown fond of you. you learned quickly, you asked the right questions, you were beautiful, and kind. you were everything he wished for in a companion. even aeons get lonely too, surely you understood that. he found himself curious about you while you were away from him, often opting to lose his corporeal form and watch you from the shadows. he had always preferred doing things from the shadows, anyways, so this was nothing new.

you were beautiful. not just in your mind, but your body, too, something that ratio hated to admit. he had assumed, wrongly, that he had no attraction to human bodies, only human minds. but yours.. it stirred something in him, made him question himself. his motives, his.. desires.

and he desired you. he wanted that to be clear, and yet he bided his time, waiting patiently in the shadows of your home for the next time he would summon you before him, something coming up rather soon.

as you arrived within his domain - a huge, expansive, never ending library filled from top to bottom of books on everything in the universe. no matter how obscure, you could find the information you were seeking in front of you, from the tiniest of details of the most unknown planets to the biggest complexities of the cosmos.

" dr. ratio, it's good to see you again, " you called out, approaching his throne, sat in the center, surrounded by bookshelves covering every side by the front. there, ratio was sat, his legs crossed with an old book in his hand. " i pray you're doing well ? "

" i am, " he nodded, his demanding gaze flickering from the book to you, taking in your every single move. ratio snapped his book closed, his eyes never leaving yours, leaning forward in his throne. " i have been reading about human pleasure. it has been a subject previously untouched by me, but as you know, one must encapsulate all things to be able to full grasp the complexities of life. "

you stopped in your tracks, stunned. he had been reading about.. human pleasure ? you swallowed thickly, allowing yourself an awkward, small laugh, your hand coming up to the back of your head as you tried to figure out what to do with yourself under his gaze. " oh ! i.. see. it's surprising that you've just uncovered this now, considering your knowledge in human psychology. "

" would you say that those two things overlap ? " he asked, the book resting on his lap now, completely forgotten about now that he was in your presence, the human that had made the aeon of dissemination question himself.

" well.. they're definitely related, " you started, thinking about how to properly explain yourself before you said anything further, a quality that he admired. " human desires are just the culmination of inherently desirable qualities in a partner, right ? those who take a more submissive role often desire dominant partners in all aspects of their life, not just in the bedroom. of course, there are exceptions, but it could be used as a rule of thumb for understanding how humans interact with one another in a romantic and sexual sense. "

your explanation earned you the briefest of nods. " would you say that you yourself are in this broad generalization ? or are you an exception ? " he asked, his words low and gruff, like he was waiting on your answer to his question. " you, who dominates so much of your life. you teach the willing, guide them towards knowledge. not many would be above you in status, i presume. would you consider yourself in need of a partner who you can take control of, too, or would you rather.. be controlled ? "

you hesitated, something that he noticed. were you not willing to share such details with him ? was it because of his status, or simply because of your nature ? you were rather introverted, although not necessarily completely since you could command a room with just the tone of your voice. well, almost every room. this was one room that you had no control over.

you were confused, but mostly, you were curious. why did he want to know ? what was he gaining from learning such private and intimate details about yourself ? this was the first time that he had asked such revealing questions to you, although you weren't unaware of his recent curiosity with your life outside of the walls of this library. this was the first time he had actually shown any type of interest in you, and to be quite frank, it unnerved you a little bit. but if ratio asks a question, it gets answered. that much, you knew. " i.. find myself leaning towards the submissive role in bed. i prefer if my partner could.. command me, sometimes, and take control whenever possible. "

dr. ratio didn't say anything for a while, his eyes narrowing slightly, his legs uncrossing as he examined you from top to bottom, taking in your attire, and taking it off in his mind. he needed to know why he felt these desires towards you. he needed to know why you, specifically, out of everyone that he had interacted with within the cosmos, earned his gaze in a way that no others did. he didn't even know that he had these baser, more carnal instincts.

" now, who would be able to control you ? you, an emanator of the dissemination, a being with knowledge vast beyond most mortal comprehension, " his eyes sparkled with something as he beckoned you forward, signaling for you to get on your knees in front of him, something that he very rarely did. and yet you complied, and his interest in this situation only grew. " who could control you.. other than myself ? "

kneeling down in front of him, and looking up at his eyes, you sucked in a breath, your heart beginning to race in your chest as you thought about the implications of his words. were you truly interpreting his words correctly, or was this another one of his many wise warnings that he often bestowed upon you when you have strayed too far away from your chosen path ? and yet, you could see the smirk on his otherwise stoic face, and you knew that you weren't misunderstanding his words.

" strip for me, girl. " you felt that throbbing pain in your head that momentarily disorientated you, your hand rushing up to grab your forehead as you swayed slightly. you swore you could feel every single nerve in your body standing on end, a warning for what was to come. yet, this was not the feeling inside of you that you got when he was commanding you to do something that you had no choice in the matter of, you knew this for a fact because he had done that to you a few times while trying to guide you towards the correct path. you had no idea what this was, other than to perhaps remind you of his power over you.

nevertheless, even while bursting with embarrassment, you obliged, first taking off your purple blazer, undoing the buttons of your white dress shirt and slipping it off of your shoulders, before finally your skirt, something that made you more nervous than revealing your chest in front of him. you stood up onto your knees, bringing yourself in between his legs as you pulled your skirt and underwear down at the same time, letting the fabric pool beneath you at your knees.

" good girl, you're such a good girl, " he whispered, his hand reaching out, gently petting your head before combing through your hair, his gaze revealing nothing about his intentions, only the hunger inside of him. you'd only ever seen this look in his eyes whenever he was learning, and perhaps, in a way, he was learning something. " come closer. i trust you're experienced in this area, or should i teach you the basics ? "

you shuffled closer, your hands on your thighs as you didn't dare touch him. " i.. have a little experience, but not a lot. my apologies, i.. my lifestyle doesn't exactly allow me to often indulge in these kinds of.. activities with others. " you were just inches away from him, your face so close to his body, his crotch. you had so many questions. was this all just an elaborate test of sorts ? did he truly intend to teach you how to pleasure him ?

did he even have the anatomy for such a lewd idea ?

" it's okay, " he answered, as if hearing your thoughts, which he likely did. he was a being of immeasurable power, after all. and yet here he was, exerting his control over you and yet at the same time, losing his cool like a lovesick fool unable to keep himself together in the face of a beautiful person. " i'm rather fond of willing students, so don't worry. you'll learn, i am sure of that. you're a very capable being, after all. "

" this body is human in all capacities, " he continued, his hand still on the back of your head, subtly pulling you closer. " i originally believed it to be human in all ways except for the brain, but i believe i have been incorrect. it seems this form, no, i retain many of humanities baser, more carnal instincts. i would like you to service me. you may begin with removing this trousers from me. i will guide you, but i'll warn you, i won't be gentle. "

all you could muster was a small nod, your hands finding their way to his pants, shaking with nervousness, and also maybe just a twinge of excitement. here, you would have an aeon underneath your touch, begging for you. surely this was a pleasure that not many got to partake in. you could see it straining against the fabric of his pants, begging to be released, and you couldn't help but purse your lips together nervously, taken aback by its size.

finally working up the courage, you unzipped his trousers, pulling them from his hips down to his legs, letting the fabric fall beneath him onto your lap, leaving him in just his underwear, his cock pressed up against his leg, the bulge in his underwear now impossible to ignore. you looked up again at him for confirmation, to which he just nodded. " proceed. show me your worthiness to be at my side. take me into your mouth. if you don't think you can do it, i will guide you. "

you bit your bottom lip, your nervousness slowly turning into palpable excitement as you finally pulled his underwear off of him, freeing his cock from its confines once and for all. he was bigger than you'd expected, with precum messily coating his bulbous tip. he was huge, so much bigger than anything you've ever seen before, making all other sexual situation you'd been in before this one become meaningless in comparison. ratio's grip on the back of your head tightened, almost painful as he leaned you forward, giving you virtually no choice but to comply with his demands.

nervously, you kitten licked the head of his cock, one of your hands holding the base of it so you could bring it to your mouth. determination to prove yourself filled you, along with undeniable arousal, but you knew that there was simply no way to take all of him in your mouth without pitifully choking, and he must've been aware, too. you began to bob your head up and down his length, feeling an unfamiliar sting in the back of your throat every time the head of his cock hit the back of your throat.

you continued this for a moment, earning contented groans from his lips, until you found your throat constricting involuntarily at the intrusion. you gagged, pulling away from him completely as you coughed, feeling your stomach do backflips.

if you couldn't take it properly without struggling, he decided, then ratio would just have to force you to take his cock to show you how it's done, even if you gag around him. his expression darkened as he pulled your head towards him, forcing himself deep into your mouth. you gagged almost immediately, your hands grabbing at his thighs as he controlled your head, forcing you to take more of his cock.

" you can't handle my size ? you're pathetic. a failure, " his voice was filled with disappointment and anger, and you could do nothing but look up at him, tears forming in your eyes from his bruising pace as he fucked your face without mercy. you couldn't breathe properly, struggling against him weakly, your nails digging into the flesh of his thighs, not out of disobedience for him, but because when humans feel as though they're dying or they can't breathe, they often try to fight to get their airway back, struggling uselessly.

" i'll show you how to please me properly, " ratio's hand pulled and pushed your head with your hair, his hips thrusting his cock deeper into your throat. your gagging is ignored as you choke around him. " fuck. yes, that's it. take it. learn to swallow my cock. learn to love it, " he threw his head back, groaning underneath his breath. " you can be so good at this, i know you can. "

he wasn't stopping, especially not when he was finally starting to feel good because of you, the pleasure building up inside of him. tears began to streak down your reddening face, your eyebrows creased together as you struggled. ratio fucked your face relentlessly, thrusting inside of your mouth and using you like his own personal fucktoy. finally, the resistance in your throat gave way after a particularly harsh thrust, and he penetrated your throat, his cock so deep inside of you that you couldn't breathe at all anymore. your eyes widened, your heart beating against your chest, the painful lesson beginning to take root.

despite the treatment, your slick was pooling between your thighs, creating a puddle of it beneath you. his rough treatment turned you on more than you'd ever thought possible.

ratio seemed to notice this, his tone holding a hint of amusement as he used your face, your nose pressed up against his pubic bone, his balls resting on your chin. " can't breathe ? perhaps you prefer i choke you completely like this ? you're enjoying it, craving it like a drug now. i must say, i find myself captivated by your abilities, too. "

you could feel your own helplessness, the power that he held over you surpassing even what you thought possible. you understood this lesson, although you could feel your head starting to fog up with the lack of air. you were trying desperately to find a way to breathe around his cock, but he was too deep in your throat, clogging up your airway. his guide on your head became painful as ratio invaded your body.

your eyes rolled back, your hands falling down to your side as you almost lost consciousness. finally, before you could truly lose yourself to the black abyss, he pulled your head up off of him, letting you gasp and choke, all of the spit that he was keeping in your mouth slipping down your lips, covering your chest and lap as you coughed up the air, blinking rapidly to familiarize yourself with being able to breathe again. your stomach was churning, and you damn near threw up everything that you had eaten for breakfast that morning. you felt weightless and incredibly heavy at the same time.

" you're a good girl. you learn quickly, " he smirked, his voice filled with satisfaction as he watched you catch your breath. finally, he stood up, his cock still throbbing painfully, ready to finally take what he'd wanted. " turn around, girl. "

that painful feeling in your head came back, causing you to wince in pain as he commanded you to turn around. finally agreeing, you turned around on your knees, looking away from him. his large hand pushed at your back, knocking you onto your hands, your ass up in the air for him to see. ratio had made himself comfortable with being in between your legs, his eyes admiring your naked form, seeing your pretty folds glistening with so much slick it was dripping down your thighs.

" such a pretty little thing. human bodies are beautiful beyond compare, even in the eyes to an aeon, but yours ? oh, yours is magnificent. truly, you are worthy of being by my side, " his voice was low as two of his fingers penetrated your wetness, testing your readiness for what was to come. he savored the feeling of your tightness around him, the way your muscles gripped his digits.

you gasped, letting out a whiny, pathetic little noise as you moaned, your back arching as his fingers hit that special spot inside of you, caressing it in such a way that had you drooling like a dumb mutt on your knees in seconds. his fingers moved rhythmically, his gaze on where they disappeared and reappeared from your body. the anticipation was building within him, and he found himself fucking you faster with his fingers, enjoying every tiny little mewl and whine of pleasure as it came from your bruised throat.

your cries of pleasure fueled him, the sight of you writhing, begging, and ultimately submitting to him was almost as satisfying as the power he held over you. " that's it. you're such a good girl. " without warning you, he pulled his fingers out from you, your body clenching around nothing as your moans quickly turned into gasps. " you're going to take me now, yeah ? submit to me, and i promise you a lesson that you'll never forget. "

your eyes widened, even though you knew ratio couldn't see it, and you felt your anxiety spike. " y-you can't..! i-it's too big, it'll break me, please ! " you begged, but your voice was falling on deaf ears as one of his hands gripped your hips, guiding his shaft to your entrance.

" your body is resilient, and i'm confident it'll accommodate me, " with a swift motion, he pushed into you, his cock stretching her wide. you cried out, your body tensing as he slowly withdrew and thrust again, just testing the waters of what you could and couldn't take. as his entire length disappeared inside of you, he couldn't stop his hips from snapping up, pounding his cock into you.

your scream of pleasure filled this vast library, a symphony of pain and pleasure. " a-ah, fuck..! your cock, i-its- it hu-hurts, 's too big.. " you sobbed, babbling on like an idiot, your words incomprehensible, your voice hiccupping in your throat. you were feeling like you were being split in half from him, like your body wasn't yours anymore. just like you suspected earlier, no other human man you'd had sex with previously compared to him, and you'd never quite be able to get fucked like this again if it weren't ratio.

ratio leaned down, his body pressed against yours, whispering in your ear, " you love this, yeah ? its painful, but it feels amazing. " his hips pumped faster, your cries echoing through the library with each thrust. your protests turned into pleas, your words lost in your ecstasy. " i want you to come for me. you'll cum again, and again, and again, until you belong to me entirely. you'll cum for me, and say my fucking name, " he promised.

you cried out, your sobs and moans mingling together as you struggled to figure out what you wanted to do, whether or not you wanted to pull him closer or force him away all at once. you were going to cum, and there was nothing you could do about it other than let him fuck you like he wanted to. pain and pleasure mingled together, but not so much as when he slammed into you with all of his body weight, the tightness of your body giving way as the head of his cock breached your womb. " v-veritas..! " you moaned out, and it all exploded within you, your pussy clenching around him as he fucked you through your orgasm, the pain of him breaching your womb and the pleasure of his fucking being far, far too much for you to take.

ratio grunted, feeling your walls squeeze around his cock as she came, milking him, too. the sensation was exquisite, his thrusts becoming frantic as he fucked himself into you as your arms gave out from underneath your, your face planting into the cold tile below. at this point, he was focused solely on his own gratification, pumping into you as your hips met his, your moans like a beautiful lullaby to his ears. " g-goddammit, " he swore, his balls drawing tight, his orgasm imminent at this point. he pulled your hips into his, his cock pulsing deep within you as his orgasm washed over him in waves, filling you completely with his seed, causing you to mewl out pitifully in response.

finally, he pulled out, his cum spilling out from your pretty pussy, dripping onto the floor beneath the two of you. he helped pick you up, cradling your body in his arms as the two of you rest at the foot of his throne together. you were nestled against his chest, your breathing coming out raggedly as you looked up at him, your eyes half closed and your body weak. ratio had breached you completely, filled you up in ways that you didn't even know possible. such was the ways of an aeon, you thought, unable to fight back against him even if you wanted to.

" you've taught me a lot about the human body, " ratio whispered, content just to hold you there, his voice holding a hint of vulnerability. " no, the human body, and perhaps the human mind, too. my own mind. thank you for this lesson, dear emanator. "

perhaps being an emanator didn't always mean that you held all of the power. after all, there will always be a being with more power than you.

[linddzz]

Does mage Viktor's reality-hopping and 'only you can show me this' line imply that dozens if not hundreds of other Jayces have done what our Jayce did and end up there on that slope hearing the same thing from him? Did the Viktor that succeeded and lost everything, lost his own Jayce, keep getting to meet new Jayces one by one, allowing himself a small modicum of wistful joy in getting to see Jayce living and breathing again if only for a short time before he sends them back? talk to me here

Not only is it implied, we for sure see at least 8 (if my count is right) times Viktor has saved Jayce as a child, including the current one. You see them flash through and each time, he gave Jayce a different runestone

(gifs by @hextecht)

Since his phrasing was "all timelines, in all possibilities" it's pretty safe speculation that Viktor has been at this for way more than 8 rounds. We don't know if he's tried messing with other points of the timeline or if any other Jayces got as far as the our Jayce did when he reached the center of Wizard Viktor's hellscape (and I made such a distressed noise when the clouds parted and I realized the only beautiful place left, the center of the storm, the oasis, is where Jayce got assimilated).

The general consensus is that this is most likely the first time it worked, because Ekko used the rune Jayce had been given (the "acceleration rune" as Ekko calls it in S2E7) to make the time travel Z-drive that he cranks up to "break reality" levels before chucking it at Viktor's head and knocking that dork off enough for Jayce's "power of love" gamble to actually get through to him.

(I also have the opinion that Wizard Viktor is not going to stop here. He's got nothing but fields of dreamless solitude for him, this IS his project and he's probably going to keep trying to refine the process across timelines until some kinda multiverse cops show up like "dude. Fucking quit it!")

And OH BOY can I sure as hell talk about the way Viktor looks at Jayce over the top of the Jayce he destroyed!!!!

(gif by @glassrunner)

Look at him. LOOK AT HIM. His expression is already wistful and pained as he turns, but you can see him exhale with the breath knocked out of him. his eyelids actually flutter. He softens, he's struck. He looks like he's barely able to keep himself from crying in that moment where he not only looks at Jayce, but lets himself be seen by Jayce in return.

And which is more heartbreaking? That this is the first time Jayce got this far, the first time Viktor had to finally properly look at him after so many tries?

Or has this played out over and over for him? Has he looked over like this time and time again, and every time it takes his breath away? Subjecting himself to this repeatedly, and every. single. time. he's hit with the most classic doomed romance line

(Im holding myself BACK from rambling yet again about how Actually Deranged it is for Wizard Viktor to be doing this but @avelera and I talk about him being a fucked up little guy so much that I need to consider just having a wizard Viktor tag lmaooo but for more Wizard Viktor rambling enjoy

Wizard Viktor doesn't care about saving the world, he's just making sure Jayce and himself are intertwined

How many times has Wizard Viktor had to watch this himbo yeet himself into Pretty Hippy Viktor's cult?

Me giggling and kicking my feet in the air over Wizard Viktor being a control freak egomaniac about Jayce )

[sevikasdoll]

sevika x fem reader

Forced Attraction.

Tags : Captor!Sevika x Captive!Reader , kidnapping , dubious consent , very dubious , stalking , mindbreak , Dom!sevika , victim!reader , sevika is a creep , psycho even , reader is a freak tho , pain slut even , dark fic , violence , threats , Stockholm syndrome , manipulation , fingering.

Summary : You don’t remember how you ended up here.

Note : yeaaaah. I needed to write this one for my soul. In my defence… yeah I got nothing LOL. Enjoy degens. This is probs very ooc but ic if you squint hard enough.

Sevika followed you from a safe distance, making sure to stay hidden. Her keen eyes observed your every move. She observed the way you talked to others, the way you smiled, the way you walked. She memorized every little detail, committing it to memory so she could replay it in her mind later.

Sevika watched you with a mixture of fascination and obsession, her gaze never leaving your figure. She stalked you every day, always watching and waiting for the right moment to make her move.

The cold night air stung your face as you walked home from a late night shift, the dimly lit streets feeling eerie despite the city bustling with life. You couldn't shake off the feeling that eyes were on you, following your every move. As you quickened your pace, feeling increasingly uneasy, the sound of footsteps echoed behind you. You turned around, but there was no one there. Shrugging it off, you continued your walk, telling yourself you were being paranoid. However, the sense of being watched persisted, and you couldn't shake off the feeling that someone was actually there. As you walked, you started to notice small things out of place, a shadow darting behind a building, a sound of footsteps trailing just a few steps behind you. The feeling of being followed increased, making your pulse race. You could sense someone's presence, but whenever you turned around, there was no one there.

Fear gripped your heart as you quickened your steps, desperate to home and away from the unseen pursuer. You glanced over your shoulder once more, and this time you saw a figure disappearing around a corner. This only confirmed your suspicions. Panicked, you picked up the pace, jogging now towards your house, the fear of the unknown presence behind you outweighing the fatigue. Every step you took felt like an eternity, your heartbeat thundering in your ears as adrenaline coursed through your veins. You desperately longed for the safety and comfort of your home, away from the stalking figure lurking in the shadows.

As Sevika watched you run, excitement and anticipation coursing through her veins. She could almost feel your fear, smell it wafting through the air. She couldn't let you escape, not when she'd spent so long observing and planning. And that’s why she had a plan.

You spot Sevika in the distance ahead, a wave of relief washed over you. Her familiar face was like a beacon of safety in the darkness, and your tense shoulders softened as you jogged towards her.

"Sevika!" you called out, your breaths coming out in ragged gasps. "Thank goodness, I thought... I thought someone was following me."

Sevika feigned concern, her expression masking the fact that she was the one who had been following you. She stepped closer, her eyes scanning your face, taking in your disheveled appearance.

"Why would someone be following you?" she asked, her voice gruff but gentle. "Are you alright?" Hiding the excitement that was building up in her. She's enjoying this, the power she has over you, the trust you place in her.

"You know, I've been worried about you. You've been so distant lately, and I couldn't help but wonder what was going on in that pretty little head of yours."

Sevika's grip tightens on your shoulder as she pulls her in closer, her breath hot against her ear. Your heart races, a mix of relief and something else she can't quite place. Sevika's words are laced with concern, but there's an undercurrent of something darker, something predatory.

"You've been through so much, haven't you? All alone, trying to navigate these treacherous streets. It must be so hard, not knowing who to trust." You felt a strange mixture of relief and unease at Sevika's words. They were comforting, yet there was something in her tone that sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn't deny that she made you feel safe, but her possessive nature was beginning to worry you.

"You trust me, don't you? You know I would never let anything happen to you." Her thumb brushes against your cheek, and she sees the way your eyes flutter closed, a soft sigh escaping your lips. "That's right, you can rely on me. Always."

As your eyes flutter closed, Sevika takes advantage of the moment. She slips a small vial from her pocket, the contents within glinting in the dim light. She uncorks it swiftly, the faint scent of bitter almonds filling the air.

"W-wait, what is that?" you asked, a sense of alarm rising in your chest. "I don't-"

But your protest was cut short as Sevika's hand pressed more firmly against your lips, the cold glass of the vial resting on your chin. Her gaze held yours, an unspoken command in her eyes that brooked no argument. "It'll make everything easier, trust me," Sevika coos, her free hand stroking your hair softly. You comply, lips parting to accept the liquid. Sevika watches as she swallows, your eyes still closed, completely unaware of the betrayal unfolding.

The bitter liquid slid down your throat, leaving a strange, almost metallic taste behind. A rush of dizziness washed over you, vertigo stealing your sense of balance and making you swoon. Sevika caught you, her strong arms encircling your waist, pulling you against her body as you stumbled. As the drug begins to take hold, Sevika's eyes gleam with a twisted satisfaction. She leans in, her breath hot against your ear as she whispers, "That's my good girl." Those words send a shiver down your spine, but your body is too weak to react.

Sevika's hands roam over your body, her touch lingering in places it shouldn't. She traces the line of your jaw, her thumb brushing against your lips. Her fingers slide down your neck, her grip tightening slightly as she feels your pulse fluttering beneath her touch.

"You're so beautiful when you're like this," she murmurs, her voice taking on a dark, hungry edge. "So helpless, so vulnerable."

Her hands move lower, her fingers tracing the curves of your body. She leans in, her lips brushing against your neck, her tongue darting out to taste your skin. You let out a soft moan, your body responding despite your mind screaming in protest.

"You like that, don't you?" Sevika growls, her breath hot against your neck. "You like it when I touch you like this."

Her hands move to your thighs, her fingers digging into your flesh as she spreads your legs further apart. She leans in, her lips finding yours in a harsh, demanding kiss. You can taste the bitterness of the drug on her tongue, the metallic tang of her lipstick. But you're powerless to stop her, your body betraying you as it responds to her touch.

"Mine," Sevika hisses, her eyes locked onto yours. "You belong to me now."

Sevika's grip on your thighs tightens, her nails digging into your flesh hard enough to leave marks. She pulls away from the kiss, her lips curling into a wicked grin as she sees the haze of confusion in your eyes.

"What's wrong, love? Don't tell me you're already missing me." Her voice drips with mock concern, her fingers trailing up your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "I'm right here, after all."

She leans in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, "And I'm going to be with you every step of the way, from now until forever."

Her hands move to your wrists, her grip firm as she pins your arms above your head. She leans back, her eyes raking over your body, drinking in every curve and every inch of exposed skin.

"You're mine now," she growls, her voice low and possessive. "And I'm going to take what belongs to me."

She leans in, her lips finding yours in another bruising kiss. Her tongue pushes past your lips, claiming your mouth, your breath, your very essence. She swallows your moans, your whimpers, your pleas for mercy. She consumes you, body and soul, until there's nothing left but her.

"Say it," she demands, her lips hovering just inches from yours. "Say you're mine."

She waits, her eyes boring into yours, her grip on your wrists tightening. She won't let you go until you give in, until you submit to her will. And you know, deep down, that you will. That you'll say anything, do anything, to make the pain stop, to make the hunger in her eyes fade away.

"Say it," she growls again, her voice a low, dangerous purr. "Say you're mine, and I'll make it all better. I'll make you forget about everything except me."

She leans in, her lips brushing against your ear. "All you have to do is say the words.”

Your lips part slightly, a soft whimper escaping as Sevika's grip on your wrists tightens further. You can feel the pain radiating up your arms, but it's nothing compared to the dread and fear that consume you. Her eyes bore into yours, their intensity unyielding, demanding.

"Please..." you whisper, your voice barely audible. The drug has left you feeling groggy and disoriented, your body responding in ways that seem foreign and uncontrollable.

"Please what?" Sevika taunts, her lips curling into a cruel smile. "Please make it stop? Please take you away from this place? Please...what?"

She leans in, her breath hot against your cheek. You can feel the heat radiating off her body, her scent enveloping you—a mixture of sweat, leather, and something darker, more primal.

"You know what I want to hear," she murmurs, her voice a low growl. "Say it, and I'll make everything better. I'll make the pain go away. I'll take care of you like no one else ever has."

Your heart pounds in your chest, your breath coming in shallow gasps. You can feel the tears welling up in your eyes, a desperate plea for mercy.

"I...I'm yours," you manage to choke out, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. It's a surrender, a capitulation to her dark desires. And as the words leave your lips, you see a wicked gleam in Sevika's eyes, a triumphant smile spreading across her face.

"Good girl," she purrs, her grip on your wrists finally loosening. She leans in, her lips finding yours in a soft, almost tender kiss. But the tenderness is fleeting, replaced once again by a hungry, possessive desire.

"Now, let's get you somewhere safe," she whispers, her voice laced with a dark promise. "Somewhere where no one can ever hurt you again."

She helps you to your feet, her arm wrapped tightly around your waist as she guides you out of your old home. The world outside is a blur. Sevika keeps a firm grip on your waist, her stride quick and purposeful as she leads you through the winding alleys and shadowed streets of Zaun.

"Where...where are we going?" you manage to ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Your legs feel like lead, each step an effort as you struggle to keep up with Sevika's relentless pace. She doesn't answer, her expression hard and unreadable as she focuses on navigating the treacherous path ahead. The streets are filled with the usual sights and sounds of the undercity—shouts and laughter from nearby taverns, the distant hum of chem-works, the occasional scuttle of a chem-rat—but they all seem muted, distant, as if seen through a thick fog.

Eventually, Sevika slows her pace, guiding you towards a nondescript door set into the side of an old, crumbling building. She knocks a quick, rhythmic pattern, and the door creaks open, revealing a dimly lit staircase leading down into darkness. "Home sweet home," she murmurs, her voice echoing in the narrow space. She ushers you inside, her hand on your back pushing you forward. "Welcome to my little sanctuary."

You descend the stairs, your heart pounding in your chest as the door slams shut behind you. The air is damp and musty, the scent of mildew and chemicals filling your nostrils. Sevika leads you through a labyrinth of tunnels and corridors, the walls lined with makeshift beds, crude workstations, and stacks of crates and supplies.

"What is this place?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. The drug is wearing off, the edges of reality beginning to sharpen once more. Sevika turns to face you, her eyes gleaming in the faint light cast by the flickering chem-lanterns. She reaches out, her hand cupping your cheek, her thumb brushing softly against your skin.

"This is where I bring my special gifts. And you, my dear, are my most prized possession." Her hand trails down your cheek, her fingers intertwining with yours. She pulls you deeper into the heart of the underground complex, the sound of your footsteps echoing through the narrow tunnels.

Finally, she stops in front of a heavy metal door, the kind of door that's meant to keep secrets locked away. She withdraws a key from her pocket, the metal glinting in the dim light as she unlocks the door and pushes it open. Inside, the room is bathed in a soft, eerie glow. The walls are adorned with photographs—photographs of you. Snapshots captured in various moments throughout your life, some taken without your knowledge, others seemingly staged to capture specific emotions. You gasp, your eyes widening as you take in the sight. There you are, laughing with friends at a café, lost in thought as you walk along the riverbank, asleep in your bed, completely unaware of the camera trained on you. There are dozens of them, each one a window into a different moment of your life.

Sevika stands behind you, her breath hot on your neck as she whispers, "Isn't it beautiful? A chronicle of your life, all laid out for me to admire."

You turn to face her, horror etched on your features. "How? How did you...?"

A cruel smile plays on her lips. "I have my ways. I've been watching you for a long time, my dear. Long before you ever knew I existed."She steps closer, her eyes never leaving yours. "You're mine now. Every moment, every memory, every breath...it all belongs to me."

Her hands reach up, cupping your face, her thumbs brushing away the tears that have begun to stream down your cheeks. "Don't cry, my love. This is just the beginning. We have so much time together, so many memories yet to make."

Her hands remain cupped around your face, her thumbs tracing the line of your tears, her fingers tangled in your hair.

"You're so beautiful when you cry," she whispers, her voice a low, husky purr. "So vulnerable, so weak."

Her grip on your hair tightens, her fingers digging into your scalp as she tilts your head back, forcing you to look up at her. Her eyes are wild, hungry, the predator within her unleashed.

"But I don't want you to be weak, my dear. I want you to fight. I want you to scream." Her lips curl into a cruel smile as she leans in closer, her breath hot against your skin.

She leans in, her teeth grazing your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine. Her voice drops to a low growl as she whispers, "Scream for me, my love. Show me how much you want this."

Before you can respond, her hand moves from your hair to your throat, her fingers wrapping around your neck. She squeezes gently, just enough to make you gasp, to remind you of the power she holds over you.Her other hand moves down your body, her touch rough and demanding as she grabs your breast, squeezing it hard enough to make you wince. You let out a soft cry of pain, and Sevika smiles, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

*"There it is," she purrs, her voice laced with dark pleasure. "That's what I want to hear."

She tightens her grip on your throat, her fingers digging into your flesh as she leans in, her lips brushing against your ear. "Scream for me, my love. Scream until your voice is raw." Her hand on your breast twists, pinching your nipple hard enough to make you cry out again. The pain is intense, overwhelming, and you can't help but let out another scream, your body bucking against hers.

Sevika laughs, a low, dark sound that sends a chill down your spine. "That's it, my dear. Let it all out. Let me hear your pain, your fear, your desire."

Her hand moves from your breast to your stomach, her fingers digging into your flesh as she pushes you backwards, towards the wall. She pins you against it, her body pressing against yours, her hand still wrapped around your throat.

*"Say it," she demands, her voice a low growl. "Say you're mine. Say you belong to me."

Your body presses against the cold, unyielding wall, trapped beneath Sevika's overwhelming presence. The pain and fear coursing through you mingle with a dark, perverse desire—a craving for more, for her to push you further, to break you completely. Sevika's eyes narrow, a wicked gleam dancing in their depths as she senses your silent plea. She leans in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, "You like this, don't you? You like the pain, the fear, the control."

Her hand tightens around your throat, cutting off your air supply for a moment before releasing, allowing you to gasp for breath.

"Say it," she growls, her voice a low, dangerous purr. "Tell me you want this. Tell me you need this."

You swallow hard, the words catching in your throat, but you manage to choke them out, a desperate plea in your voice. "Yes... I-I want this.. I need this.. I need you, Sevika."

A wicked smile tugs at the corners of Sevika's mouth. She leans in, her lips finding yours in a brutal, punishing kiss. Her tongue invades your mouth, claiming every inch of you, tasting every tear, every gasp, every whimper. Abruptly, she breaks the kiss, her hand pulling back. Before you can react, her palm connects with your cheek, the force of the slap sending shockwaves of pain and pleasure coursing through your body. You cry out, your head snapping to the side, but you don't pull away.

Sevika's eyes blaze with a primal intensity as she watches the red handprint bloom on your cheek. She leans in, her voice a low, menacing growl.

"You like that, don't you? You like the sting, the burn. You like feeling used, abused, owned."

Her hand raises again, and this time, her palm crashes against your other cheek, the force of the blow sending you reeling. You let out a choked sob, your body trembling against the wall, but you don't turn away. Instead, you meet her gaze, a silent plea for more. There is such a pathetic needy look on your face.

Sevika's lips curl into a cruel smile, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Good girl," she purrs, her voice laced with dark approval. "You take it so well. You take everything I give you and beg for more."

Sevika's hand raises again, poised to strike. The anticipation hangs heavy in the air, a tangible force that crackles between you. She leans in, her lips brushing against your ear, her voice a low, menacing whisper.

"Count them," she commands, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Count every blow, every slap, every mark I leave on your skin. Let it be a reminder of who owns you."

The first slap comes without warning, the sharp sting of her palm against your cheek making you cry out. "One," you gasp, your voice very unstable. Like your mental.

Sevika smirks, her hand raising again. "Two," you choke out as the second blow lands, the pain blossoming across your cheek.

She continues, each slap harder than the last, each one leaving a vivid red mark on your skin. You count them, your voice growing hoarse and ragged with each number. By the time she reaches ten, your face is a mess of tears and bruises, your body trembling beneath her touch. Sevika steps back, her eyes raking over your form, drinking in the sight of your battered, broken body. She leans in, her hand cupping your cheek gently, her thumb brushing away a stray tear.

"Beautiful," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. "You look so fucking beautiful like this."

Her thumb traces the line of your jaw, her touch surprisingly tender despite the brutality that preceded it. You shiver, your body responding to her touch even through the haze of pain and tears.

Sevika's eyes darken, her pupils dilating as she notices the subtle shift in your body. She leans in, her breath hot against your ear as she whispers,

"You're wet, aren't you? All this pain, all this fear...it's turned you on."

Her hand moves from your cheek, trailing down your body until it reaches the dampness between your thighs. She presses her fingers against you, a low growl escaping her lips as she feels your arousal. "Filthy little slut," she murmurs, her voice laced with both contempt and desire.

She steps back, her eyes never leaving yours as she begins to unbuckle her belt. "Turn around," she commands, her voice stern. "Hands on the wall, ass out." You hesitate for a moment, a flicker of defiance in your eyes, but it quickly fades. You turn around, your body shaking slightly as you press your hands against the cold wall, your ass sticking out obediently.

Sevika watches you, her eyes gleaming with anticipation and darkness. She finishes unbuckling her belt, the sound of leather against denim echoing through the room. She steps closer, her body brushing against yours as she leans in, her lips finding your ear.

"Good girl," she whispers.

Her hand reaches around, her fingers brushing against your wetness before she plunges two fingers deep inside you. You let out a sharp gasp, your body tensing at the sudden intrusion. Sevika chuckles darkly, her other hand gripping your hip tightly.

"Relax," she commands, her fingers moving slowly, deliberately inside you. "Take what I give you."

She begins to move her fingers, her thrusts slow and steady at first, but quickly building in intensity. You can hear the wet sounds of your arousal, the slap of her hand against your flesh, and her low, dark growls of pleasure and dominance.

*Sevika leans in closer, her body pressing against yours as she whispers in your ear, "Who do you belong to, my dear? Who owns this pathetic little cunt?"

She punctuates each question with a sharp thrust of her fingers, her voice a low, menacing growl. "Answer me," she demands, her grip on your hip tightening even more.

Your mind reels with the intensity of it all—the pain, the pleasure, the overwhelming sense of Sevika's complete control over you. You know the answer she wants to hear, the words that will appease her dark desires. With a shaky breath, you manage to choke out,

"You...you own me. My body...my mind...everything belongs to you."

Sevika lets out a low, satisfied growl, her fingers still moving inside you, her palm pressing against your clit. She leans in, her teeth grazing your ear, her voice a dark, hungry whisper.

"That's right, my precious doll. You're mine, all mine. This tight little cunt, these perfect tits, this pretty face...it's all for me."

She punctuates her words with a particularly hard thrust, her fingers curling inside you, hitting that sweet spot that makes you see stars. Your body bucks against hers, a desperate moan escaping your lips as you feel the pressure building inside you.

"Don't cum," she growls, her voice a commanding snarl. "Not until I say so. You don't get to cum until I'm satisfied."

She continues her relentless assault, her fingers moving faster, harder, driving you closer and closer to the edge. Your body is on fire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure and pain, your mind consumed with thoughts of her, of how badly you need her.

"Please," you beg, your voice a broken whisper. "Please, I need...I need..."

Sevika chuckles darkly, her hand coming down on your ass in a sharp slap. Need what, pet?" she taunts, her fingers stilling for a moment before resuming their relentless thrusts. "Need my cock? Need my cum? Or do you just need more pain?"

Your body tenses at her words, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps. You're so close to the edge, so close to giving in to the pleasure that threatens to consume you.

She leans in, her lips brushing against your ear as she growls, "Beg for it, my sweet victim. Beg me to let you cum. Show me how much you want it."

"Please," you beg again, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please, I need...I need to cum. Please, Sevika, please let me cum."

She hums in approval, her fingers moving faster, harder. You can feel the orgasm building, the tension coiling in your body like a spring ready to snap.

"Cum for me, my pet," she growls, her voice laced with dark satisfaction. "Let go, let it all out. Show me how much you belong to me."

With a final, desperate thrust of her fingers, you tumble over the edge, your body convulsing as the orgasm rips through you. You cry out, your voice echoing through the room as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you, leaving you gasping and spent. Sevika holds you tightly, her body pressed against yours as she rides out the storm with you. When the last of the spasms finally subside, she leans in, her voice a low, satisfied purr in your ear.

"Good girl," she murmurs. her fingers slowly slipping out of you. "Now get on your knees and show me how grateful you are."

You comply immediately, your body still shaking as you turn around and lower yourself to the ground. You look up at Sevika, your eyes filled with a mix of gratitude, fear, and desire.

She stands before you, her pants still unzipped, her shirt partially unbuttoned, revealing glimpses of her muscular chest. She reaches down, her hand wrapping around your hair as she guides your face towards her crotch.

"Show me what a good little slut you are," she growls, her voice laced with dark hunger. "Make me cum with that pretty little mouth of yours."

You tentatively reach out, your hands trembling as you grasp the waistband of her pants. You pull them down, revealing her toned thighs and the bulge of her chemtech prosthetic. You look up at her, a silent question in your eyes.

"Don't worry about that," she says, her voice harsh. "Just focus on making me feel good. That's all you need to worry about."

You nod, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you lean in, your tongue darting out to taste her. You can feel her tense under your touch, her body responding to your ministrations. You redouble your efforts, determined to please her, to show her how grateful you are for the release she's given you.

As you work, you can hear Sevika's breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Her hand tightens in your hair, her hips moving in time with your movements. You can feel the pressure building, the tension coiling in her body like a spring ready to snap.

"Fuck," she growls, her voice a low, guttural sound. "You're so fucking good at this. Such a good little slut."

The words send a shiver of pleasure and shame coursing through you, spurring you on. You continue your work, determined to bring her to the edge, to make her cum just as hard as she made you.

As Sevika's body tenses and her breath hitches, you can feel the moment of her climax approaching. Her grip on your hair tightens, her hips thrusting harder, faster. You take it all, your lips and tongue working in harmony to bring her to the edge.

"Fuck, yes," she groans, her voice a low, desperate growl. "You're so good, my little slut. So fucking good."

Her body convulses, a guttural cry escaping her lips as she finds her release. Warmth fills your mouth, her essence spilling over your tongue. You swallow, your eyes watering as you continue to suck, determined to take every last drop.Sevika's breath comes in ragged gasps as she rides out the waves of her orgasm. Finally, she pulls away, her hand releasing your hair as she steps back, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her climax.

"Good girl," she whispers, her voice hoarse with satisfaction. "You did so well."

You look up at her, your eyes filled with a mix of pride and exhaustion. You've pleased her, and in this moment, that's all that matters.

Sevika extends a hand to you, helping you to your feet. She looks you over, her eyes roaming your body, taking in the bruises, the marks, the signs of your submission.

"You look beautiful," she murmurs, her voice softening. "Like a work of art."

She leans in, her lips brushing against yours in a gentle, almost tender kiss. It's a stark contrast to the rough, brutal passion that came before, and it leaves you feeling cherished, wanted, and utterly belonged to her.

"Clean yourself up," she says, stepping back and gesturing towards a nearby sink. "Then come find me. I have...other plans for you."

You nod, a shiver of anticipation and fear running through you as you move to do as she commands. Whatever she has in store for you next, you know one thing for certain— You belonged to Sevika.

❥・・ ┈┈┈┈┈‪༚༅༚˳ . ୨୧ . ˳༚༅༚┈┈┈┈ ・・❥

Wow you stayed until the end… freak. Heh I hope you enjoyed ^^ MIGHT make a continuation someday. <3 Be sure to take care of yourselves!!

[yannawayne]

ii. what's up danger?

SYNOPSIS: "Alright, let's do this one last time. My name is Y/N Kyle. I was bitten by a radioactive spider, And I've been the one and only Spidey in Gotham. I’m pretty sure you know the rest." PAIRING: Older! Damian Wayne/Fem! Reader TAGS: Established relationship, Mild sexual jokes, Making out AO3: yenwayne SERIES LINK: gotham's only spidey

<- PREVIOUS | NEXT ->

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“Hey, I’m Jason. Don’t freak out, but I think he’s cheating on you.”

Damian’s protest was immediate and alarmed. “I am not! Todd!”

Jason waved a dismissive hand, clearly enjoying the chaos. “Pretty sure I saw him with some redhead just last week—”

In the background, the distinct clink of Damian’s katanas being unsheathed was audible. The phone jerked violently as the struggle intensified, Tim’s voice cutting in with panic. “Alright, alright! Don’t stab him! Here’s your phone back.”

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Monday, 11:15 PM - ???, Gotham City.

THE METAL DOOR GROANED as it was forced open, releasing a cloud of dust that sent you into a brief coughing fit. Selina chuckled softly, her figure silhouetted against the dim light filtering through the grime-coated windows. She stepped inside, her movements graceful, each footfall echoing in the vast emptiness of the warehouse.

"One of my safehouses," she explained, the door clanging shut with a heavy thud behind you both. "Secluded, off the grid."

The walls were lined with old crates and rusting metal shelves, their contents long forgotten. Selina flicked a switch, and a single, flickering bulb sputtered to life, casting a dim, yellowish hue over the room.

"We can lay low here for a while. Think of this as your personal hideout," she added, brushing dust off a table. "No one knows about this place—not even Batman."

You hummed in acknowledgment, your eyes scanning the room. The space had clearly fallen into neglect, the floor scattered with debris, and the windows fogged with years of grime. The overhead light flickered intermittently, casting shifting shadows that danced eerily across the walls.

Selina leaned against a stack of crates, her watchful eyes following you as you explored. She gave you a moment to take in the space, the silence between you filled only by the soft creaks of the old warehouse. Eventually, she pushed herself away from the crates, her steps almost silent as they pressed into the thick layer of dust that coated the floor.

Her hand found your shoulder, firm but reassuring, guiding you gently to the side. "Come on," she said. "I want to see something."

You followed her through the cluttered space, weaving between old barrels and rusting equipment until you reached a clearing. Here, the walls were less covered by debris. The area was bathed in a slant of sunlight streaming through a dirty skylight, illuminating the dust motes that floated lazily in the air.

Selina stopped and turned to face you, pointing to a wide stretch of wall. "Show me what you can do. Use those hands again."

"Sure," you replied with a nod, a faint smile attempting to mask your nerves. You shook out your hands, trying to rid yourself of any lingering nerves. "Seems easy enough."

You approached the wall, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You placed your hand on the cold, rough surface, feeling it grip back. With a careful lift, you brought your other hand up and pressed it against the wall, then followed with your feet.

Before long, you were clinging to the surface, limbs spread wide. You began to climb, your start slow and careful, but as you settled into the rhythm, your confidence soared. You ascended effortlessly, and with a final leap, you swung up to hang from the ceiling, a playful grin spreading across your face as you looked down at Selina.

Selina craned her neck to watch you, a glint of pride in her eyes as she applauded slowly. 

"Not bad," she called up, warm and approving. "Now, let’s see if you can get down."

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the jump. Channeling the superhero landing techniques you’d seen on TV, you leapt from the ceiling, aiming for a smooth descent on your knees. But reality had other plans.

SLAM!

You landed with a jarring thud, your knees slamming into the floor with a loud slam. The shock shot up your legs, making you wince as pain flared through your joints. You let out a half-groan, half-laugh, collapsing to the floor in a heap and clutching your knees. 

“Oww, damn it,” you muttered, wincing as you rubbed your knees, trying to ease the sting. “Okay, superhero landings: they look badass, but they sure as hell don’t feel badass.”

Selina stifled a snort, a smirk playing at her lips as she watched you.

"You know," she drawled, "in real life, landing like that is a surefire way to mess yourself up." She arched an eyebrow, raising a finger. "Lesson one: don’t slam all your weight on your knees or legs. Roll with it and spread out the impact. Trust me, your joints will thank you."

With that, Selina moved to demonstrate. She climbed onto a low shelf, her posture perfect as she stood poised on the edge. With a graceful leap, she descended smoothly, her landing controlled. She rolled into a crouch, looking ready to spring into action. 

"See?" she said, brushing off imaginary dust with a smirk. 

You shot her a glare from where you were still hunched on the floor. "Okay, okay. I get it. No superhero landings."

Selina gave you an approving nod. "Exactly. Now let’s see if you can pull it off without turning me into a laughing mess."

"Alright, I'll give it another shot," you said, pushing yourself up. "But if I end up in a heap of broken crates, it's totally your fault."

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Training with Selina was a crash course in everything you thought you knew but didn't. 

Parkour was the first hurdle—literally. 

Each day kicked off with stretches and warm-ups before diving headfirst into rolls, jumps, and twists. Selina made it look like an art form, smooth and effortless like she was swimming through the air. You, on the other hand, had a style that was less about grace and more about grit—rough around the edges, but uniquely your own. It wasn’t pretty, but it got the job done. The city started to feel like your playground, and with every jump and scramble, you got better at making it your own.

Once you got a handle on the whole not-falling-on-your-face thing, Selina moved you on to flexibility training. Yoga quickly became your new frenemy. On the one hand, it was the calmest part of your day; on the other, you didn’t know it was possible to sweat so much while standing still. Then came gymnastics. Flips, spins, and handsprings made you feel like you’d signed up for a circus performance. You found yourself attempting gravity-defying moves that left you either soaring through the air or tangled in a heap on the mat.

Web practice was a whole different beast, mostly because Selina didn’t have much advice for swinging around the city like a manic Tarzan. The first few swings had you gripping the sides of buildings like a terrified cat. But after a while, something clicked. You stopped worrying about plummeting to your death and started enjoying the ride. Swinging through the air started to feel natural—like you were born to do it. 

Then there was hand-to-hand combat, where Selina decided bare-knuckle boxing was the way to go. Turns out, punching things with super strength was way harder than it looked. You didn’t just hit things; you obliterated them—cracks in the floor, dents in the walls, and one unfortunate punching bag that went on a one-way trip out the window.

And, of course, there was that time you got a little too cocky, tried to throw a fancy combo, and ended up clocking yourself in the face. That bruise was a harsh reminder that super strength was great—until you’re the one on the receiving end. 

Every one of these skills was drilled into you, over and over, until it was muscle memory.

Of course, it wasn’t all smooth sailing. There were days when you felt like you’d made zero progress and nights when your body ached like you’d been hit by a train.

Selina had a knack for pushing you to your limits—right to the brink, but never over. It was like she had some weird sixth sense for when you were about to break—she'd pull back, giving you just enough room to catch your breath before diving back in.

There was something oddly comforting about it too, like she was slowly molding you into something more, even if she had to drag you kicking and screaming the whole way.

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Saturday, 4:01 PM - Catwoman’s Apartment, Gotham City.

5 Days Later.

Right now, you were in your bedroom, the soft afternoon light filtering through the curtains and casting a warm glow across the room. The clock on the wall ticked towards four, and according to your new training schedule, it was time for yoga.

You found yourself in mid-crow pose, balancing on your hands with your knees resting on your upper arms. A YouTube video played on the floor nearby, the instructor’s calming voice offering a steady stream of tips and encouragement.

“Focus on your breath,” the instructor advised. “Keep your core engaged and your gaze forward.”

You exhaled slowly, settling into the pose with a growing sense of ease.

Just as you were beginning to settle into the routine, your laptop rang with a FaceTime request. With a quick shift of weight to one hand, you reached over and tapped the screen of your phone to answer the call. You nudged the video to full screen with your free hand, giving your full attention to the incoming call.

Damian’s face appeared on the screen, blinking in surprise as he took in the sight of you. His hair was tousled, and he was dressed in a fitted black shirt that accentuated his physique. He was lounging in bed, surrounded by the comfortable chaos of a well-lived-in space: rumpled sheets, a few scattered books, and a delicate, ornate cup of chai karak on the nightstand. 

“Habibti. Are you... doing yoga?” he asked, a slight red tint on his ears

You tried not to grin too widely as you held the pose. “Yeah, believe it or not. It’s part of my new training routine.”

Damian’s eyebrows shot up, clearly surprised. His eyes briefly traced over the tensed-up muscle of your arms, a hint of admiration flickering in his gaze. “Training? I wasn’t aware you had an interest in such pursuits.”

You hummed softly, stretching out your legs with practiced ease, each movement a dance. Your body, defined and taut, seemed like a sculpted work of art against the soft light filtering through your bedroom. Damian’s gaze followed the elegant curve of your back, lingering over every contour as if he were trying to memorize each detail.

“Well, Selina's been pushing me to get better. Uh... self-defense and all. It’s been intense, but I’m actually enjoying it.”

Damian nodded slowly, his eyes never straying from you. His usually steely gaze softened into something warmer, almost embarrassingly dopey, with hearts practically swimming in those steamy forest greens. He shifted on his bed, fingers drumming absently on the edge as he continued to watch, utterly captivated.

You followed up with a few air push-ups, grunting slightly as you bent your arms down.

The effort seemed to spur Damian more than you’d expected. His cheeks flushed deeply, and he quickly raised his phone's camera to the ceiling, desperately trying to hide his flustered face. He had always admired strength and discipline—traits he prided himself on and valued in others.

After a moment of awkwardly staring at the ceiling, Damian cleared his throat and adjusted his position, attempting to appear nonchalant as he lowered the camera back down. His attempt at casualness failed miserably. He was about as subtle as a brick being thrown into a window when it came to how much he thought you were beautiful.

“Well, I must admit, I’m rather impressed. I didn’t expect you to exhibit such dedication.”

You completed your set of air push-ups and settled back on your heels, a satisfied grin lighting up your face. “Thank you. It’s been challenging, but I’m making progress. Mom’s a tough coach, but her methods are effective.”

Damian’s gaze softened as he watched you ruffle your damp hair with a towel, the warmth of the setting sun casting a golden halo around you. The light painted your face with a soft, ethereal glow, highlighting the contours of your cheeks and the sparkle in your eyes. He shifted, lying on his stomach with his face buried in a pillow, but his emerald eyes peered out with a look of pure adoration.

"You're beautiful."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, but you quickly cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. “Thanks,” you replied, your voice betraying a hint of the fluttering emotions you were trying to hide.

Just as the moment settled, a loud crash shattered the calm. Damian flinched, his phone tumbling sideways, leaving you staring at the ceiling. Incoherent shouting and raucous laughter spilled through the background, punctuated by the unmistakable sound of someone barging in.

“Grayson! You insufferable, blundering imbecile! How many times must I tell you to knock before you manage to comprehend basic manners? You’re a barely tolerable nuisance, a wretched excuse for a brother. Get out before I lose my temper!”

Oh.

You snorted and continued to listen as more voices joined in.

“Oh, Damian’s got himself a little video call buddy. I hope you’re making a fool of my little brother, whoever you are.” A tuft of dark hair with a white streak appeared briefly before the phone was yanked away, giving you a downward view of someone’s face.

Tim’s grinning mug filled the screen next, and he gave you a lazy wave. “It’s his girlfriend.”

Before you could react, Damian’s voice erupted from somewhere off-screen. “Drake, give me my phone back this instant!”

Dick’s head popped into view next, his blue eyes the only part of him visible as he peered at you with a mischievous grin. “Y/N! Give me the phone. I wanna say hi too!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, waving to the two of them. “Hey, guys. Glad you could crash my call.”

Tim shrugged, still holding the phone. “Sorry about this. You know how it is here.”

Damian’s voice grew louder and more insistent, practically vibrating through the phone. “If you don’t give me my phone back right now, I will—”

Before he could finish, the screen shifted again. The phone wobbled as Damian wrestled for it and Tim tried to pull it back. In the background, Jason’s voice cut through with a snarky tone. “No way she’s actually real. I thought she was just a figment of his imagination.”

“Stop! Unhand it! None of you insipid fools have any concept of how to behave with respect!"

Jason managed to snatch the phone away with a triumphant smirk, his eyes narrowing as he took you in. Among Damian's brothers, he was the one you saw the least. You wouldn't be surprised if he didn't remember you. 

“Hey, I’m Jason. Don’t freak out, but I think he’s cheating on you.”

Damian’s protest was immediate and alarmed. “I am not! Todd!”

Jason waved a dismissive hand, clearly enjoying the chaos. “Pretty sure I saw him with some redhead just last week—”

In the background, the distinct clink of Damian’s katanas being unsheathed was audible. The phone jerked violently as the struggle intensified, Tim’s voice cutting in with panic. “Alright, alright! Don’t stab him! Here’s your phone back.”

Just as Tim was about to hand it over, Dick swooped in one last time, his face filling the screen with a very unflattering close-up of his mouth. “Wait! I didn’t get my turn!”

Damian’s screams and the scuffle of feet continued in the background. The phone changed hands again, this time revealing Alfred’s face as he peered down at the screen with a raised eyebrow.

“Say hi, Alfred,” Dick’s face appeared beside him, and the butler gave a warm smile.

“Good afternoon, Young Miss Kyle. I trust you’re well? We were all quite concerned after the incident at prom.”

You managed a small, sheepish smile, running a hand through your damp hair. “Thank you, Alfred. I’m doing much better now.”

Alfred nodded, his expression softening. “I’m glad to hear that. Please take care, and don’t hesitate to reach out if you need anything. Master Bruce sends his good wishes as well.”

Dick’s grin widened as he gently nudged Alfred aside and took back the phone. “See, even Alfred wants you to come over. It’s unanimous! Right, Cass?”

The screen shifted again, briefly showing Cass giving a thumbs-up and nodding. You signed a quick "hi," and she responded with a warm smile.

There was a final chaotic burst of shouting, tangled limbs, flying fists, and laughter before the screen spun once more, the sound of a door slamming shut echoing. Damian’s grumbling face reappeared, his expression a mix of frustration and relief.

“Apologies for the disturbance,” he muttered, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “It’s fine, Damian. Your family’s just... lively.”

Then, squinting with a playful grin, you added, “Is your shirt... ripped?”

Damian glanced down, noticing the tear in his shirt for the first time. The rip ran diagonally from his shoulder down to his ribs, exposing the defined contours of his muscles beneath. The golden light from the setting sun danced across his form, casting soft shadows that highlighted the ridges of his physique. His cheeks flushed.

“Typical,” he muttered, shaking his head.

Damian set his phone down and moved to his closet. The aftermath of the earlier chaos was evident: a pillow half off the bed, books slightly askew on the shelf, and one of his katanas leaning precariously against the wall.

You whistled as he pulled off his torn shirt, admiring the way his back muscles shifted and flexed with the movement. Damian glanced over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised, though a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. After a moment, he retrieved a clean black shirt, slipping it on. He picked up the phone again, his face coming back into view. 

“Better?” 

“Much better,” you replied, still smiling. “Though I wouldn’t have minded if you took a little longer.”

Damian rolled his eyes, but his expression was warm. “Idiot.”

He settled back down, setting his phone on his lap, which gave you a perfect view of his arms as he leaned over. The muscles in his forearms flexed slightly as he adjusted the angle, and you couldn’t help but admire how his strength showed through even in such simple movements.

"So... Is it true? Do you really have a secret redhead on the side?" you teased, a playful grin tugging at your lips.

Damian's eyes widened, and he straightened up, instantly defensive. “What? No! Todd’s insufferable, and his only goal in life is to make me suffer. I would never—! I’m completely devoted to you. Their teasing is just a pathetic attempt to rile me up. I’m all in with you, no one else.”

You couldn’t resist, a cheesy grin spreading across your face. “All in, huh?”

“TT.” Damian’s face flushed even more, and he quickly hid his face from the camera, groaning in embarrassment.

You chuckled softly, deciding to shift the mood. “Are you going on patrol tonight?”

Damian’s face reappeared, more composed but still slightly flushed. “Yes, the usual rounds. Gotham never sleeps.”

You nodded, trying to sound casual despite the worry creeping in. “Just... be careful, okay?”

Damian’s expression softened. “I will. And if anything happens, you’ll be the first to know.”

You smiled, feeling a comforting warmth. “Good. I’ll hold you to that.”

 ༻⊰───⋅

Sunday, 2:20 AM - Catwoman’s Safehouse, Gotham City.

THWIP.

“Is that the best you’ve got?” Selina taunted, her voice dripping with mockery as she effortlessly sliced through the webs you cast with a flick of her claws. “I thought you were better than this.”

The dimly lit warehouse echoed with the rapid sounds of your movements as you and Selina sparred. At 2 AM, the night’s calm had long since dissipated, leaving only the two of you engaged in a relentless back-and-forth. 

You grinned, focusing on your next move. “Oh, I’ve got plenty more. Just warming up!” You flicked your wrist, sending another burst of webs toward her, aiming to trap her legs.

Selina nimbly leaped over the webs, landing gracefully. “Warming up? You’re going to need more than that to catch me.” She charged at you, claws extended, slicing through the air.

You flipped away just in time, twisting mid-air to narrowly avoid her claws. You landed lightly on your feet. “You know, for someone who’s supposedly training me, you sure like to make things difficult.”

Selina smirked, turning to face you. “Aren’t you at least a little curious?” She teased. “Training isn’t supposed to be easy. If it were, it wouldn’t be worth the effort.”

You dropped into a boxing stance, fists raised and ready. 

“Easy? Who said anything about easy?” You shot back with a quick jab aimed at her midsection. Selina dodged with a bend. Unfazed, you followed up with a powerful cross, your fist just grazing her cheek.

 “Let’s see if your skills can match that mouth,” she sneered.

Frustration simmered, and you launched into combo of punches—left jab, right cross, left hook—occasionally shooting webs. Selina danced around them with cat-like grace. When you swung a particularly forceful uppercut, you shot a web at her feet. She leaped clear, laughing as she did.

“Getting better,” she admitted, landing a bit rougher than usual. “But still not quite there.”

You readied yourself again, stance firm. “Not yet, but I’m catching on.”

Selina lunged again, her speed almost blurring. You ducked under her swipe, but she adjusted mid-move and closed in with a sudden burst of speed. Her claws grazed your jaw, and you stumbled backward, trying to regain your balance.

“Damn,” you cursed, wiping a trickle of blood from your chin. 

“Learning yet?” she replied with a smirk. 

“Oh, you’ll see.” 

Charging forward, you fired a burst of webs that latched onto Selina’s torso. With a sharp yank, you reeled her in, closing the distance between you. As she was pulled within reach, you shifted your weight and threw a punch. 

JAB!

The force of your punch connected solidly with her chin, knocking Selina backward. She hit the ground with a grunt but was quick to recover. 

Huffing slightly, she sprang to her feet, brushing off the dust and massaging her jaw with a wry smile. “Nice hit.”

“Didn’t hit you too hard, did I, Mom?” you asked, genuine concern in your voice as you started to undo the wraps on your knuckles.

Selina chuckled, brushing off a stray web from her hair with an exaggerated flick. “Hardly. I’ve been hit harder by a wayward cat toy."—An obvious lie, you were a very heavy hitter—"But I appreciate the effort.”

You relaxed your stance, feeling a rush of accomplishment. “Just trying to keep up with you.”

"Is that so?" Selina said, gliding over to a table to grab a handful of ice, which she pressed against her jaw. She then slipped into a sleek, black jacket that accentuated her lithe frame. As she turned to you, her eyes sparkled with mischief, and a playful smile danced on her lips. “Still have some energy left?”

You rolled your shoulders, savoring the satisfying ache of a solid workout. “Yeah, I’m not quite ready to hit the hay yet.”

Selina gave a nod of approval as she bent to lace up her boots. “Good. We’re going out.”

Your eyes lit up, and you couldn’t hide your excitement. It had been days since she’d let you get out and test your new skills, and you were itching for some action. “Really? You mean it?”

“Yep,” Selina said with a sly grin, pulling a stray web from her hair. She tossed the ice pack aside, the cubes clinking as they hit the metal table. “Time to see what you’ve learned. Go get ready.”

You nodded and did as told. 

You slipped on a red varsity jacket—Damian’s from the school’s soccer team. He was the star player, but he never actually wore it, so you decided to "borrow" it for yourself. The jacket was oversized on you, but it offered that familiar warmth and carried the faint scent of his cologne. Underneath, you kept on your training clothes: leggings and a sports bra, still damp from the warehouse workout. On your feet, you pulled on your red, ratty Converse, their worn-out soles feeling oddly comforting.

It wasn’t long before you and Selina were leaping across Gotham's rooftops, the city below a sprawling tapestry of glowing lights and deep shadows. The cool night air rushed past you, carrying the distant hum of traffic and the occasional whoosh of a passing vehicle far below. Each leap sent adrenaline coursing through your veins, the thrill of the city’s pulse beneath your feet.

“Keep up!” Selina’s voice cut through the wind.

On cue, she vaulted off a high ledge, her body twisting mid-air like a dancer in flight. The moonlight glinted off her jewelry and caught the sharp focus in her eyes as she executed a flawless landing atop a streetlamp. The lamp swayed slightly under her weight, but she held her position with poise, a smirk playing on her lips.

With a grin, you shot a web at the streetlight, using it to swing in a wide arc around the pole. The momentum propelled you into a series of rapid spins, your laughter blending with the whistling wind as you twirled through the air. Releasing the web, you pulled yourself up and off the lamp, flipping effortlessly before landing in a smooth roll on the adjacent rooftop.

“Nice moves,” Selina called out. She leaped from the lamp with a fluid dive, twisting gracefully mid-air before she landed beside you, her boots barely making a sound on the rooftop.

Both of you continued moving, the exhilaration of the chase fueling your every step. The city lights streaked past in a blur of neon and shadow, each leap and swing a burst of adrenaline. As you bounded across another rooftop, something caught your eye—a large billboard, its bright screen flickering with the latest headlines. 

The text burned across the display. 

“Gotham High Senior Prom Interrupted by Villain Connected to Sionis Crime Family: Chaos Erupts.”

You came to an abrupt halt, your shoes skidding against the gravel roof. Breathing heavily, you tilted your head slightly and turned to face the billboard, your gaze fixed on the glaring headlines. The screen flickered to a live feed of a stern-looking news anchor. 

“Last Saturday, prom at Gotham High was disrupted by a violent attack. Eyewitnesses reported a scene of utter chaos where a villain equipped with mechanical arms infiltrated the event, resulting in a brief but intense altercation. Several students sustained injuries. The assailant, identified as Octavius Burton, was apprehended by Batman and his partner, Robin.”

Tucking your hands into the pockets of your jacket, you turned as Selina began to make her way to you, your brow furrowing with concern. You could see her fingers flexing at her sides, a telltale sign of her mounting frustration. She pulled her sleek, black jacket tighter around her, the fabric rustling softly. 

“Burton, a former professor at the academy, was terminated following inquiries into his activities connected with the Sionis Crime Family, an organization with known affiliations to the criminal figure known as Black Mask. Authorities are continuing to investigate the motives behind this incident.”

Black Mask was a touchy subject between the two of you, subtly pulling at threads of pain that neither of you fully addressed. His name seemed to drift into conversations like a ghost, stirring up the quiet ache of past losses—the kind that felt like a fresh wound, reopening old scars that neither of you had fully healed from.

“Have you seen anything strange lately?” you asked, trying to gauge her reaction.

Selina gave you a sideways glance, her expression thoughtful. “Funny you should ask. I’ve picked up on some strange shifts. The gang’s movements have been off—more frantic, almost like they’re gearing up for something.”

“And what do you think it means?” you asked carefully, trying to avoid pushing too hard.

Selina shrugged. “It’s hard to say. They’re usually pretty secretive, but something feels different this time. Like there’s a bigger play going on.”

You chewed on your inner cheek, feeling a familiar tightness in your chest. This was the most you’d managed to get her to talk about Black Mask or any of the darker aspects of her other life. It wasn’t often Selina opened up about such things, and the rare glimpses she offered were often fleeting, like shadows slipping through your fingers.

“Have you picked up any solid leads?” you asked, tugging at the sleeves of Damian's jacket. “Anything that might give us a clue about what’s coming?”

Selina’s expression grew more guarded. “Not much. Just fragments and whispers. But whatever’s brewing, it’s got those boys on edge. And when they’re on edge, you know something big is about to go down.”

You nodded, feeling a knot of anxiety in your chest. You shut your eyes for a brief moment, gathering the courage to voice your thoughts. When you opened them again, your gaze was steady. 

“I want to check this out,” you tell her. 

Selina froze. “I’m sorry, what?”

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “I can’t shake the feeling that everything’s connected. There’s too much coincidence here to ignore.”

Selina’s eyes narrowed, her posture stiffening as she took a step back. “What are you getting at?”

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to keep your voice steady despite the knot in your throat. “Look, think about it. My parents died because of Black Mask. Then, this villain linked to him shows up at the prom. The next day, I wake up with spider powers, and my dad was working on spider-human DNA stuff. All these pieces—”

Selina cut you off. “You’re not seriously suggesting you want to dive into this mess yourself, are you?”

“I have to! It’s all connected somehow. I need to find out what really happened with my father. I need to piece it together myself,” you sputter.

Selina’s eyes widened slightly, and she let out a disbelieving laugh, her hand coming up to her forehead as if to steady herself. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Kid, don’t get ahead of yourself. Just because I trained you for a week doesn’t mean I’m about to let you go and get yourself tangled up with the Sionis Family.”

You bristled at her dismissive tone, stepping closer, you waved your hands around in desperation. “But you don’t get it. I can’t just sit back and ignore this!”

Selina’s expression hardened, her protective instincts flaring. “You think I don’t get that? I lost your mother—my sister—too. I know how hard it is. But rushing into danger without understanding everything is risky. The Sionis Family isn’t just a petty gang; they’re dangerous, with connections and resources that could put you in serious danger.”

You took a step back, feeling the sting of her words. “You think I’m too weak to handle it, don’t you? That I’ll just fall apart like everyone else you’ve seen?”

Selina’s eyes widened. “That’s not what I meant—”

“But that’s exactly what you’re implying!” you shot back. “You’re treating me like I’m still a kid like I can’t make my own choices.”

“You’re my daughter,” Selina said quietly, her voice trembling slightly. “You are a child whose whole world was turned upside down with no explanation. You were left there all alone, on my doorstep. And I took you in because I couldn’t stand to see you lost and alone. Now, you’re asking me to let you dive headfirst into a world that killed everyone I loved and nearly destroyed me.”

You shook your head, trying to protest, but she silenced you with a raise of her hand.

“I know you're confused. I know you're angry. So angry about your mother's death. And, baby, I am too,” she whispered. “But you have so much ahead of you, and I don’t want this world to consume you before you’ve even had a chance to truly live. This life, it’s... it’s not what I want for you.”

“But what if this is what I want?” you asked quietly, looking back up at her. 

“You’ll regret it,” she croaked. Her eyes were clouded with something you couldn't quite place—fear, maybe, or sorrow. As she pulled you into a tight embrace, her shoulders sagged, the tension seeping out of her in a slow, painful release. “I see myself in you, in all the ways I wished I could have been something different, something better. It scares me because I know all too well what this life can do.”

The news report had long since faded, replaced by a garish commercial that blared across the billboard. The vivid reds and yellows bathed both of you in an almost surreal glow, distorting the moment into something dreamlike and distant.

The relentless noise and flashing lights felt like they belonged to another world, far removed from the quiet tension between you. You simply nodded, your throat tight, and clung to Selina, the weight of her words settling into your chest as you hugged her back, holding on just a little tighter.

 ༻⊰───⋅

Sunday,  3:43 AM - Catwoman’s Apartment, Gotham City.

The newly bought alarm clock, a hasty replacement after the old one met its demise the night after prom, glared at you with its green-tinted screen. Its bright blue neon numbers cut through the darkness, each digit pulsing with impatience:

3:43 AM.

You were seated at your desk, robin-themed socks snug on your feet and a green blanket draped around you for warmth. The soft glow of your laptop screen illuminated your face as you pored over a labyrinth of links and tabs, your eyes scanning for any scrap of information related to Octavius Burton. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the computer and the occasional click of your mouse.

Both you and Selina had returned from the run just an hour ago, the air between you still charged with unspoken words. Selina, visibly exhausted, had offered you a final, goodnight kiss on the cheek before retreating to her bed. The weight of your conversation had clearly worn her out, but you remained restless.

CLICK.

You clicked through a few more links on your laptop, but the information was frustratingly sparse—just fragmented reports and vague mentions that led nowhere. Restlessness gnawed at you, making the room feel too small, too stifling as if the walls were inching closer with each passing second.

Your gaze flicked to the window, where the city lights barely penetrated the thick curtains. The cool night air called to you, a whisper of freedom. An idea began to take shape, stirring a familiar itch beneath your skin—the urge to move, to escape, to find answers.

You grabbed your laptop and closed it with a decisive snap. The screen went dark, but the soft green light from your alarm clock still bathed the room in an eerie glow. You slid your feet into your shoes and approached the window.

Opening the window quietly, you peered out into the night, the cool air splashing against your face like a cold, refreshing wave. Using your spider powers, you crawled effortlessly up the side of the building. Once you reached the rooftop, you settled onto the edge, your legs dangling over the side. 

Cool and refreshing, a welcome change from the stuffy room. You pulled out your laptop.

As you continued your search for information, the quiet of the night enveloped you, broken only by the occasional distant sound of the city below. It felt like the world had opened up just a little bit more.

With a click, you redirected your search to something more personal. You began scrolling through the company pages of Oscorp Industries, the old company where your father had worked. 

You skimmed through employee directories, old press releases, and archived news articles. You paused at a page detailing the company’s history. Among the names and dates, you spotted a familiar one: Octavius Burton.

The text described him as a former lead researcher who worked at Oscorp Industries for a brief three years before his abrupt departure. Huh. 

Shaking off your unease, you shifted your focus to a research site where your father had published his work. Searching for his name, you navigated to his profile. 

Scrolling through his list of publications, you examined the coauthors and acknowledgments. Your heart skipped a beat when you came across a paper that mentioned Burton in its acknowledgments section. It read:

“Special thanks to Dr. Octavius Burton for his invaluable insights and technical expertise during the development of this project.”

A knot formed in your stomach as you closed the laptop, your head beginning to throb. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to fit together, but the edges were still blurred, the full picture just out of reach. 

Scowling, you rubbed your temples, trying to soothe the growing tension that had built up behind your eyes. But before you could find any relief, the unsettling tingle of your spider-sense flared to life. It started as a faint prickle at the back of your neck, quickly escalating into a sharp, insistent warning that sent your heartbeat into overdrive.

!!!

Your body reacted before your mind fully processed the danger. You snapped your head around, every nerve on high alert. A shadow moved in the corner of your vision, and in the next instant, a figure dropped down from above, landing with a nearly imperceptible thud just a few feet in front of you.

Without thinking, you sprang into action. Your laptop tumbled from your lap as you lunged forward, your fist arcing toward the intruder's face. The impact was solid, your knuckles meeting the side of their jaw with a satisfying crack. The figure staggered, but quickly recovered, straightening.

"What? Looking for some more?!” you growled, swinging another punch aimed at the intruder. But before you could connect, a gloved hand shot up, catching your fist with surprising ease.

"Beloved?" The familiar voice cut through the adrenaline-fueled haze, laced with both surprise and a hint of irritation.

You blinked and looked up to see Damian, clad in his Robin suit. His jaw was already showing a deepening bruise, a mottled patch of red and purple swelling rapidly.

"Oh my god!" you exclaimed, mortified. The realization of who you had just struck hit you like a wave, your cheeks burning with heat. "I—I'm so sorry! I didn’t mean to—"

Damian adjusted his stance, wincing slightly as he gingerly touched the sore spot on his jaw. “Really? Is this how you greet everyone who drops by? I’m both impressed and deeply insulted.”

He gave you a scrutinizing look, the white slits of his mask narrowing. “That punch—while forceful—was a bit too eager. A more controlled approach would be better. Precision and control usually work better than raw power.”

You stared at him, taken aback. “Are you... judging my punch?”

Damian’s lips curled into a smirk as he went on, clearly enjoying the moment. “And your balance was off. You need to keep your center of gravity more stable. Alignment and posture are key to effective strikes and maintaining stability.”

You rolled your eyes. “Brat.”

“Well, if the shoe fits,” Damian said with a self-satisfied smirk, adjusting his gloves with a flourish. “It’s only fair that I offer some guidance. A bit more finesse and you might have neutralized me more efficiently.”

Your eye twitched. Men and their egos, you thought, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. 

“Oh, sorry for not meeting your high standards,” you shot back, sarcasm lacing your words. “Maybe next time, I’ll make sure not to punch the person who’s here to give me tips.”

Damian chuckled, crossing his arms with a grin. “It was a decent hit. You’ve managed to impress me. Think of it as a compliment. Most people don’t even get the chance to lay a hand on me.”

“I hate you,” you grumbled, but the words lacked any real bite. Despite your irritation, you found yourself stepping closer, wrapping your arms around his torso, and burying your face into his chest.

Damian simply huffed, amused, and placed his arms over your shoulders, the warmth of his embrace comforting in its familiarity. Even when he was being insufferable, there was something about him that made it impossible to stay mad for long. 

“Why did you drop by anyway?” you asked, lifting your head to look up at him.

Damian’s arms tightened around you as he responded, “I was in the neighborhood. Curiosity got the better of me. And it seems I was right to investigate,” his gaze flickered toward your laptop, still lying on the rooftop.

You narrowed your eyes, not buying it. “Really? You just happened to be passing by? You know this is Catwoman’s territory, right? Seems a bit out of your way.”

“Tt,” Damian scowled, looking away as a faint blush crept up his neck. The tips of his ears turned a telling shade of red. “It’s not like I was actively searching for you,” he added, trying to sound indifferent. “Just a fortunate coincidence, I suppose.”

“Mhm. Sure, babe,” you murmured, reaching up to gently touch Damian's face. Your fingers traced a scar near his jaw with a tenderness that made him pause, his breath hitching ever so slightly.

“Idiot,” you said affectionately, a soft smile playing on your lips.

“Hardly,” he replied, a subtle warmth breaking through his tone. Before you could react, he scooped you up into his arms with ease.

“Put me down,” you groaned, half-heartedly resisting. “I’m heavy.”

Damian’s lips curled into a smug grin, his breath warm against your skin as he scoffed, “Beloved, my bench press warm-ups weigh more than you.” The gravel in his voice took on a teasing edge, smugness bleeding into your ear. “Watch.”

Before you could react, Damian’s arms tightened around you, and with a quick, effortless motion, he tossed you into the air.

A startled scream escaped your lips as you flailed, instinctively shooting out a web. The sticky thread hissed as it latched onto the rooftop edge, pulling tight and catching Damian’s attention. His head whipped around, confusion clouding his features as he tried to make sense of the sudden blur of movement.

In the split-second of panic, you plummeted back toward him, landing safely in his arms.

Shit. 

Without missing a beat, before he could fully look back, you grabbed his jaw and pulled him into a kiss. Damian’s eyes widened in shock, but as you deepened the kiss, his surprise gave way to something else. His arms wrapped around you, and he kissed you back with a fervor that matched your own. 

After a few minutes, Damian tried to pull away, his curiosity still evident in his eyes. But you weren’t having any of it. With a soft, pleading whine, you drew him back in, your hands sliding over the contours of his armor. You whispered his name against his lips, the warmth of your breath mingling with his.

Beneath the hardened exterior and the carefully constructed armor, Damian was achingly soft. The mere thought of kissing you, of feeling your lips against his, had managed to distract him so thoroughly that the facade he worked so hard to project fell away like fragile shards of glass.

Damian’s attempt to pull away was fleeting as if he were tethered by an invisible thread pulling him back to you. His hands tightened around you, one sliding up to cradle the back of your neck, the other pressing firmly against your lower back, drawing you closer. He swallowed the honeyed sounds slipping from your lips, savoring every breath and murmur.

Your hands roamed across the edges of his mask, fingertips tracing the ridges and contours, teasingly attempting to slip it off.

Damian’s groan of your name was a low, throaty rumble that vibrated through your chest. His lips followed a fiery path down to your neck, each kiss a heated brand that made your breath catch, as if he were etching his mark on you with every touch. 

Suddenly, the sharp crackle of Damian’s earpiece sliced through the intimate moment. His body tensed, and with a swift, almost robotic motion, he leaped several feet away from you, landing with a heavy thud. He straightened up, his posture rigid as he fiddled with the earpiece.

“Dam—Robin,” came Tim’s voice through the earpiece. “Eugh. What the hell is that noise? I thought you were on patrol. Are you seriously making out on the job? Redhood and I are getting an earful of... whatever that is.”

“Yeah, thanks for the front-row seat to the romance, demon brat. I’ll be sure to add that to my list of things I didn’t need to hear tonight. Next time, maybe give us a warning before you make me want to shoot myself.”

“TT,” Damian’s face turned a deep crimson as he yanked the earpiece from his ear with a grimace. In a burst of frustration, he slammed the device down, reducing it to a pile of broken plastic.

“Oh,” you said with an amused grin as he spun on his heel with a sharp, almost frantic movement and leaped off the rooftop in a swift, disappearing dive.

“Next time, maybe keep the earpiece off!” you called after him, the grin still playing on your lips. Damian responded with a speedier exit, vanishing into the night.

As the echoes of his departure faded, you let out a deep sigh, your grin slipping away. Turning around, you saw the web you had shot still clinging to the rooftop, its glistening strands catching the moonlight with an almost ethereal shimmer. Panic bubbled up inside you as you approached it, your hands trembling slightly.

Fuck. That was too close.

Taking a steadying breath, you carefully picked up the web, its sticky texture making your fingers feel oddly weighed down. With a swift motion, you tossed it off the roof, watching as it drifted into the darkness below. The night seemed to grow eerily quiet in the aftermath, each distant siren or rustle of leaves making your heart race with an anxious thrum.

You scanned the rooftop one final time, making sure no trace of the night’s events remained. Grabbing your laptop, you felt its reassuring weight as you turned and headed back to your room.

"I have got to be a lot more careful," you sighed to yourself, the words barely more than a whisper. 

 ༻⊰───⋅

Monday, 2:19 PM - Chemistry Lab, Gotham Academy.

“...and as you can see, the rate of reaction increases with temperature, which in turn affects the activation energy required. Remember, it’s crucial to maintain consistent variables to ensure accurate results. Any questions?”

The room buzzed with the soft rustle of papers and the occasional murmur as students exchanged glances and half-heartedly raised their hands. A question from one of the students prompted Dr. Foster to shift to a new segment of the lecture.

You slouched over your desk, trying to focus on the textbook despite the monotonous drone of the lecture. The room felt stifling, the endless rows of lab benches and flickering fluorescent lights adding to the sense of tedium. Your pen drifted absently across the paper in your notebook, sketching spiders—each more intricate than the last. It was the third-to-last class of the day, and you found yourself counting down the minutes until freedom.

This was one of the only classes you didn’t share with Damian, and his absence made the wait for dismissal feel even longer.

With a sigh, you sketched a detailed spider, giving it a little mask and cape for amusement. The classroom’s buzz of activity continued around you, blending into a dull hum as you lost yourself in your sketches.

“You like spiders?” came a voice, interrupting your idle doodling.

You turned to find your seatmate, Morgan, looking at you with a curious expression.

Morgan Stark—her full name rolling off the tongue like something out of a high-fashion magazine—was your lab partner in Chemistry class and a standout at Gotham Academy. Top student, robotics prodigy, and the heiress to Stark Industries

You blinked, slightly taken aback. “Oh, um... yeah. I guess so. Just an interest.”

Morgan leaned closer, her chestnut hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders. “Really? Most people find spiders creepy. What got you into them?”

You glanced at your notebook, where intricate doodles of spiders and webs sprawled across the page. 

“I don’t know,” you began, pausing as you searched for the right words. “They’re just… fascinating. I like their webs.”

Morgan nodded thoughtfully, a small smile playing on her lips. "That's pretty cool.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a bit more at ease. As the bell rang, signaling the end of class, students began to gather their belongings with a collective sense of relief. The clatter of backpacks and the rustling of papers filled the room.

Morgan leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms with a small smile. She tilted her head, studying you with a curious gaze. 

“What’s your name again?” she asked, her hand moving to adjust the glasses perched on her nose.

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the question. After months of sitting next to her, you'd assumed she’d have gotten it by now. Hell, you two did tablework assignments together, shared notes, and even collaborated on that tough group project last semester. 

“You... don’t know my name?” you asked, your voice tinged with disbelief.

Her eyes widened slightly, a hint of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her notebook. The blush deepened, contrasting with the freckles dusting her skin.

“Oh, I know your name,” she lied horribly, her voice faltering just a bit. “I… just want to know if you know it.”

A smile crept up your cheeks as you gathered your notebook and packed it away, your movements slower and more deliberate.

“I’m Y/N Kyle,” you said, offering a gentle smile.

“Nice to meet you,” Morgan said with a smile, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Maybe next time we can trade more than just doodles and spider talk.”

“Sounds good,” you replied, sliding your backpack over one shoulder and standing up.

As students filed out of the classroom, you and Morgan exchanged a final look. She gave you a quick, playful wink before turning to join her friends, who were already waiting by the door.

Walking out of the classroom, the hallway was alive with the usual end-of-day hustle. Students rushed to their lockers, chatted animatedly, or headed to their clubs. The walls were lined with lockers, some ajar and spilling over with books and personal items. Conversations and occasional bursts of laughter echoed off the walls.

As you pushed through the crowd, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out, glancing at the screen. It was a message from Damian:

SUGAR DAMI:

Beloved, I'm afraid I can't drive you home today.

I have soccer training that will extend until 5 o'clock.

You sighed, a touch of disappointment creeping in. Selina was out on a heist for the whole day, leaving you to your own devices. The thought of spending the rest of the afternoon cooped up in your apartment didn't exactly thrill you.

With a quick huff, you typed a response:

YOU:

No worries, I'll figure something out. Good luck with training!

You hit send and slipped your phone back into your pocket. Adjusting the strap of your backpack, you made your way toward the back entrance of the school. As you pushed open the heavy double doors, the crisp afternoon air greeted you with a refreshing coolness.

Stepping outside, you were met with a clear blue sky, dotted with only a few wispy clouds drifting lazily. The sun bathed the school grounds in a warm, golden glow, while the distant hum of traffic blended with the cheerful chirping of birds. 

You made your way to a secluded corner of the school grounds, checking over your shoulder to make sure no one was around. With a nimble leap, you cleared the fence and landed lightly on the other side. Slipping into the narrow alleyway, your footsteps echoed softly off the brick walls as you made your way to the fire escape.

You scaled the metal steps with practiced ease, pulling yourself up to the rooftop. Once there, you rolled your shoulders, loosening up before taking in the expansive view. Your apartment was visible in the distance, but that wasn't your destination today.

With a final glance back at the school, you took off across the rooftops.

 ༻⊰───⋅

Monday, 3:25 PM - Catwoman’s Safehouse, Gotham City.

The journey to the safehouse was quick, the cityscape blurring by as you made your way. As you pushed open the heavy doors of the safehouse, the familiar scent of old wood and metal greeted you, a stark contrast to the crisp afternoon air outside.

With a tap on your phone, you opened Spotify and selected a playlist, the tunes soon filling the room from the speakers resting on a nearby table.

Don't wanna be an American idiot One nation controlled by the media Information age of hysteria It's calling out to idiot America

Still in your school uniform, you took off your blazer and tossed it somewhere on the floor, leaving you in your shirt and tie, slightly rumpled from the day's wear. The warehouse felt cooler without the extra layer, and the air against your skin was refreshing.

Using your shooters, you spun a hammock between a few panels of the wall. You jumped onto it, the webbed fabric creaking slightly as it adjusted to your weight. The hammock swayed gently as you settled in, the rhythmic motion easing the tension from your muscles.

As the music played on, you bobbed your head to the beat, letting the lyrics wash over you.

Welcome to a new kind of tension All across the alienation Where everything isn't meant to be okay Television dreams of tomorrow We're not the ones who're meant to follow For that's enough to argue

Settling deeper into the hammock, you pulled out your phone and began scrolling idly through the latest news reports. The headlines were grim, detailing the latest string of crimes committed by Black Mask. As a Gotham native, you were used to the constant stream of bad news, but it still made your stomach churn slightly.

One headline caught your eye.

"Multiple Tech Industries Robbed: Black Mask Suspected in High-Tech Heist Spree"

You click on the article, your eyes scanning the details.

"In the past week, several leading tech companies have reported break-ins and thefts, resulting in the loss of millions in high-tech equipment and proprietary technology."

The article detailed the affected companies and the nature of the thefts. Wayne Enterprises had reported missing nanotechnology components. LexCorp was missing cutting-edge encryption devices, while Queen Consolidated had reported the disappearance of prototype energy sources.

Your brow furrowed as you took in the list. Black Mask was stepping up his game. He was gutsy, you'd say that, targeting Wayne Enterprises when Gotham was practically owned by the company. Maybe you could ask Damian for info. He might have some insights that could help you in your personal little mission.

!!!

Then there was a tingling sensation, a familiar prickle at the back of your neck, like tiny electric currents dancing along your spine. It heightened your senses, sharpening your focus as if the world slowed down for a brief moment. You turned just in time to see Selina swinging in with her bullwhip, landing on the ground with a graceful yet forceful thud.

Smirking, you raised a hand in greeting. “You didn’t roll. You know that’s really bad for your knees.”

“Oh, please, honey. Turning my own words against me? I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you,” she said, rolling her eyes. She straightened up, her black leather suit catching the dim light that filtered through the dusty windows.

"Why so early?" you hummed. "Thought you were out for the whole day. Got caught by Batman again?"

"Caught? Please, I never get caught. I just let him think he has a chance," she scoffed, sauntering over to you, her boots clicking against the concrete.

She held a small, black bag in her hand and, with a casual flick of her wrist, tossed it your way. The bag flew smoothly through the air, landing with a soft thud against your stomach. You grunted slightly and caught it in your arms.

“What’s this?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just a little something I picked up on my way back,” she replied, leaning casually against a nearby crate. “Figured you could use a bit of excitement.”

As you opened the bag, you discovered a sleek, black suit inside. The material felt smooth and durable—definitely Kevlar. It was similar to Selina’s suit, but when you turned it around, a spider symbol was stitched onto the back.

“A suit?” you marveled, pulling it out for a closer look.

Selina smiled, lifting her goggles and moving to sit beside you. “I made it myself. Took a while to get everything just right, but I think it’ll suit you perfectly.”

You traced the spider emblem with your fingers. “I thought... you didn’t want me to go out into that world?”

Selina sighed softly, her expression softening as she watched you. “I was hesitant at first. You know how dangerous it can be out there. The streets of Gotham aren’t forgiving, and I’ve seen too many people get hurt—or worse—because they weren’t prepared. But I also understand why you feel the need to do this. It’s in your blood, just like it’s in mine. We’ve both got that itch.”

She paused, her gaze distant for a moment before focusing back on you. “When I first started, I was headstrong, eager to prove myself. I took risks, some stupid, some necessary, but I learned. This is my way of making sure you can learn the ropes without getting in over your head.”

"You're going to let me patrol?" you gasped out, a grin so wide it spread across the ends of your cheeks.

Selina’s tone sharpened. “Don’t think for a second this means I’m giving you free rein. I’ll be watching. One wrong move, and I’ll be right there to pull your little spider-butt back. But for now, consider this my way of making sure you’re ready.”

“Fuck yes,” you cheered, smiling as you hopped off the hammock.

She smirked, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Now, get suited up. Let’s see how you look in action.”

You took the suit and headed to a makeshift changing area in the corner of the warehouse. The material felt surprisingly light and flexible, molding perfectly to your body. You glanced at yourself in a cracked mirror propped against the wall. The sleek, black suit clung like a second skin, with the spider emblem standing out against the dark fabric.

Stepping out of the changing area, you caught Selina’s eye. She circled you once, then twice, before nodding in approval.

“Not bad,” she said with a smirk. “You look like you mean business.”

You smirked cockily, crossing your arms over your chest. “I do mean business.”

Selina raised a clawed finger, her tone turning serious. “Now, before anything, let’s set some rules. First, no killing—under any circumstances. That’s non-negotiable.”

You nodded solemnly.

“Second, stay away from gangs. That means no getting tangled up with Black Mask or his crew. They’re trouble.”

You deflated a bit but agreed.

“Third, avoid the Bats. Don’t go near their patrol routes or get involved with them. No crossing paths.”

“No patrolling on school nights – your education is your priority..”

“No associating with Catwoman – you can’t be seen with me in costume. It raises too many eyebrows and could lead Batman or others to figure out who you are.”

“So... I get to go solo?” you grinned.

Selina rolled her eyes. “Yes, but I’ll be tracking your every move. Stick to small, street-level threats like muggings, burglaries, and assaults. No big jobs or anything that could draw too much attention.”

“After patrols, come to the warehouse first – don’t go straight to the apartment.It’s safer to lay low here.”

“And no mixing with civilians—keep your crime-fighting life separate from your personal life.”

You nodded, committing the rules to memory. “Got it. No killing, no gangs, no Bats, no school-night patrols, no Catwoman, warehouse first, and no civilians.”

“Good. Stick to those rules, and we might just keep you out of trouble. Any small slip-up or any inkling of suspicion from the Bats, and you're out. Got that?”

Her eyes bore into yours, glaring into your soul. You gulped and nodded again, more firmly this time. "Got it. No room for mistakes."

Selina gave a satisfied nod and tossed you a mask. You caught it and inspected it closely. The mask was sleek and full-faced, featuring large, white mesh eye covers bordered in black. Subtle, almost invisible web patterns were etched into the surface.

"You know, for someone who doesn't follow the rules, you sure do have a lot for me," you snorted, running your fingers over the webbing, appreciating the craftsmanship before slipping it onto your face.

“That’s because I’m Catwoman and you’re not. I know when to break the rules and play. You’re still learning.”

“Do I at least get a cool name?” you asked, adjusting the mask to fit snugly.

“The press usually decides that, honey. How do you like the sound of Spider-Girl?”

“Spider-Woman,” you corrected with a huff.

“Spidey might be cuter,” she teased.

“Spidey,” you hummed, rolling the name around in your head. “That has a nice ring to it.”

“Spidey it is, then.”

<- PREVIOUS | NEXT ->

 ༻⊰───⋅

dududun there's a stark

surely putting this child into vigilante work is a good idea

i am very sure spidey will be responsible and not at all destructive like every other peter parker ever

also! you fight like spider noir because both of you use bare-knuckle boxing

[cursedcatvibes]

KILLSHOT!

re4r!fuckboy leon x fuckgirl reader

word count: 5.9k

summary: Leon is only really a fuckboy because of some sort of childhood trauma thing. He doesn’t want to be forgotten, growing up ugly isn’t something he wanted to be remembered by so when he got his glow up he obviously used his looks to his advantage. But what happens when he starts to hear another name other than his own making rounds, everyone is raving about this person and Leon doesn’t like this. Is he jealous of them? Or is he actually jealous he hadn’t gotten to experience it yet?

tags/warnings: Minors DNI! Smut, 18+. Complicated emotions, slight mask kink, using of drugs, drugs mentioned, alcohol slightly mentioned, college ditzy bimbo talking, fingering, cowgirl, praise, characters from other franchises mentioned, halloween party, stalking-ish.. not proof read

A/N: hello! i have not been active in a few months oh my gosh.. literally sickening but life is literally sickening in itself? so.. but anyways, i had this idea strike me and it’s taken so long for me to punch it out because i kept changing the plot and rewriting and deleting shit because i didn’t like it. sue me! but yeah i forced myself to sit and write all day, so if some of the plot is not consistent i apologize! i actually got slight inspiration from pawgleon.. like the way the characters speak. i think she portrays bimbo and ditzy talk very well! (this is me partaking in kinktober)

Songs! ^^

Killshot (Slowed + Reverb) - Magdalena Bay

Rehab - Brent Faiyaz

Yummy - Ayesha Erotica

Like a Dream - Thomas LaRosa

Poison- Brent Faiyaz

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

Leon’s always made a name for himself ever since Junior year in highschool. He had been considered ugly up until that point, had a bunch of acne (just like a normal growing teenager would), wore glasses, and his voice was still a little high-pitched because his balls had yet to drop. So what? Most boys are late bloomers! Definitely nothing to be insecure about.

He got picked on a lot and all the girls he liked never liked him back, always made fun of him whenever they could and called him a weird freak. But that all changed one summer when he got back to school for the new year.

He had gained a skincare routine, traded his glasses for contact lenses, and even started working out. It made him feel good about himself and it gave him the confidence to say fuck you to everyone else.

When he strolled into school however, it proved to be different almost immediately.

Here he was thinking he would have to defend himself again this year but people actually seemed to like him, girls he had never spoken to in his life started coming up to him. All pretty and perky too.

Now all of the sudden everyone wanted to fuck him and he was overjoyed. He quickly lost his virginity not even a month into starting the new school year, it took him a long while to perfect his craft but soon he got pretty good at knowing a woman’s body, men too.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

A few years later and now he’s in college with a reputation of being a fuckboy. It wasn’t a bad thing for him, considering the fact that he was able to get out the pent up stress college applied onto him.

Leon always got to pick his fruit of the night daily, sometimes even more than once a day. He didn’t have to worry about girls trying to get into relationships with him because of his reputation, one, and two, he was always up front about how he didn’t want to date anyone.

He was 1000% sure that if someone could be labeled as best fuck/hookup he would qualify for first every single time.

Well that’s what he originally thought until he started hearing another name going around, almost as often as his own. He was curious about who this person was, he wondered if they were as good as him for this many people to be buzzing about them.

It only took him a couple of minutes asking around before he found out the full name of the person and what class they were in. Surprisingly they were in the morning class of the same lesson that Leon took except his was more in the afternoon.

No wonder they haven’t crossed paths. No worries, he’s sure that a person like him must be cool enough to become friends with.

Oh how wrong he was.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

You had a decent up bringing growing up, didn’t struggle academically and you weren’t bad looking but you weren’t good looking either. Just plain. No one paid much mind to you in middle school.

It was completely fine with you, no drama, no names to remember, and no one to pick on you. You could honestly say you enjoyed it.

No one bothered you up until you hit puberty, you noticed almost immediately that people started treating you differently. It was strange at first, getting used to everyone trying to butter you up for one thing only.

You didn’t see much of an issue because you didn’t care, you didn’t see virginity as a big deal either. Now you weren’t a hoe or passed around, you just had sexual relations with whomever.

You were pretty ecstatic about going to college you had aspirations and dreams, that dream job wasn’t going to be easy. You needed to have a proper education and a little experience in that field before you even tried.

It was also well known in college that you get to sleep around with whoever you want and receive no consequences.

But never raw, you definitely weren’t trying to get pregnant before your life properly started. You applauded the women who did have babies this early in life and still make something of themselves but you could barely take care of yourself on a daily let alone a whole other little human.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

You sat there in the middle row of the lecture, bored out of your mind. You stared at the chalkboard and occasionally glanced down at your notebook to doodle or something to make it appear you were paying attention. It was just an extra class you were forced to do for extra credits before the end of the semester.

Leon on the other hand was sat in the back row of that same class, he somehow managed to weasel his way into the same extracurricular as you so he could spy on you, a feeling of unease brewing in his belly as he watched you.

He didn’t trust you, he didn’t think you were a whore. That’s kinda hypocritical of him but he was put off by your presence. Maybe a little bit jealous of you and how you managed to make a name for yourself. It was almost like he was challenging you mentally. A challenge you yourself wasn’t even aware of.

He glanced up at the clock when he noticed people getting up, he collected his stuff immediately and quietly followed behind you. Leon felt like he was being a bit stalker ish but he wanted answers. Plus it’s not like he was doing it to be a pervert.

He watched as you met up with some friends to go study in the library, obviously he was still shadowing you from afar. His nose shoved inside a book in the far corner in the library but close enough to spy on you from a distance.

He didn’t gain much information, you were hard working with a flirtatious personality, it was kind of hard for him to gather anything from this. But he overheard you and your friends talking about going to a party, his head perked up a bit like a dog smelling a delicious treat.

He wasn’t sure why but he felt this strange feeling wash over him, could he confront you there? But why was he trying to confront you? In all honesty he wasn’t sure, he just knew that he was jealous and scared that he would become a nobody again.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

You and your friends spoke happily about the most random stuff, like who got who pregnant, followed by did you see this new show? The topics never truly stayed on one solid one unless the whole group had a deep connection to it.

So it didn’t surprise you that a party happening later that night was mentioned. “It’s a costume party?” You asked curiously and your friend chuckled and nudged you with her elbow. “Oh my god, like yeah. Obviously. It’s halloween.” Ashley giggled and the rest of them did too.

“That’s so lame.” You murmured, twirling your pencil around in your hand. “Like.. this is the start of a bad hallmark movie or something.” You said as your lips pulled up into a thin line.

Your friends shrugged and they obviously knew you would go anyways, you glanced around the library per usual. Something you did just as a random habit and you spotted someone looking at you.

You frowned a bit as you watched the guy look away and bury his face back in his book. How strange? “What a weirdo.” Your friend, Jill, spoke up and it startled you a bit. “Huh?” You turned back to her and she stared at the guy before looking back at you.

“Do you know him?” She asked and you shook your head no. “Yeah.. I thought so. He kept glancing over here and I thought it was all in my head.” Jill mumbled softly as if to keep it between the both of you. With a nod of agreement from you Jill joined back into the conversation.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

Leon on the other hand was burning red in embarrassment, you had looked right at him and made a face. Now he looked creepy. He should just leave the library now or something, anything! But he stayed glued to his seat, straining his ears to eavesdrop on your table.

After a while he watched you all get up and leave, he sighed softly and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Nice going, Kennedy. You’ve outdone yourself and now you look like a creep.” He muttered in annoyance.

He quickly packed his stuff up and exited the library, shooting his friends a quick text before heading towards his dorm. He needed a Halloween costume now.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

Halloween shopping didn’t take long for your group of friends. All of you got ready in Claire’s dorm because it was spacious and she was the one who got the best one because rumor had it her brother fucked one of the deans for special privileges and Claire used it as blackmail for herself.

Everyone in that dorm knew it was far from the truth, she was just a good student and because of that she got special treatment alongside Chris.

Ashley was busy doing her makeup when she looked over at you who was staring at the costume you had got. “You okay?” She asked and you turned around to look at her. It was obvious to everyone she would go as Harley Quinn. It suited her. Is what you thought before responding.

“I’m questioning if this is too much.” You responded and Jill perked up. “Definitely not. It’s actually beneficial because it’ll probably be super hot at that party so the less clothes the better.” She murmured mindlessly as she put on her realistic wig..

Ashley and Claire glanced over at Jill before bursting out in a fit of giggles. “This is why we keep Jill on a high pedestal. She’s like super smart and pretty. It’s a two for one.” Ashley grinned and you chuckled softly.

Claire slung her arm over your shoulder and tugged you close. “Besides you’ll be matching with me, and y’know if someone bothers you and you don’t want them Chris will stand up for us.” She pinched your cheek gently and you swatted her hand away with a whine.

“Fine, you have a point.” You relented with raised hands as if you surrender. Claire smiled and grabbed her costume to change into.

Ashley put her hair up into two pigtails and grabbed the spray of temporary hair dye. “So.. Luis is going to be there.” She beamed, and everyone in the room rolled their eyes. “Ashley, you are such a simp for him.” Claire huffed and you and Jill nodded in agreement.

“Okay well it’s not my fault okay! It’s gotta be his stupid accent.” Ashley grumbled softly, pouting as she did so. When she turned around after staring at the vanity mirror for so long she smiled seeing everyone in their costumes.

Jill is Tiffany Valentine from the Chucky franchise, Ashley is Harley Quinn from the DC franchise, Claire is Starfire, and you are Raven.

You purse your lips as you hold the cape up between your fingertips. “You know for the longest time I had no idea what she was saying.” You admitted and everyone but Jill agreed. “You didn’t watch it with subtitles?” She laughed and you shook your head no with a grin.

“I thought she was just speaking gibberish.” You said and it just made everyone laugh harder as they gathered their things to get ready to leave. “Yeah because they would make one of their main characters speak gibberish everytime she used her powers.” Claire teased and you turned red with embarrassment but also laughter as you all walked out the door.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

Leon on the other hand was pre gaming in his dorm room with his friends, Carlos, Chris, and Luis. “Dude you know how many hot chicks are going to be there?” Chris murmured as he slipped into a brown jacket, pulling gloves onto his hands while searching for his Jason Vorhees mask.

“I'm definitely scoring tonight.” Carlos said as he messed with his hair, a soft hum leaving his lips. Leon shrugged, not very interested in hooking up with anybody. He was more interested in trying to one up you.

Luis sat next to Leon on the couch and stared at him for a second. “¿Qué pasa, Sancho?” He asked, tilting his head at the blonde who seemed to be anxious. “Nothing. Just.. thinking. I guess.” He replied, rubbing his nape.

Luis cocked his eyebrow up and narrowed his eyes at Leon suspiciously. “Well, whatever it is. I’m here if you wanna talk.” He assured, placing his hand on Leon’s shoulder. Leon nodded and grabbed his Ghostface mask.

“Are we all ready?” Chris asked as Carlos was putting on his gloves with fake claws on them. He had the signature Freddy Krueger colors on while Luis had the iconic blue jumpsuit and Michael Myers mask. Once everyone was ready they set off to the party, Leon swallowed anxiously under his mask.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

The first thing you were met with when you entered the frat house was a mess, a mess of drunk and high people. You made a face at the smell of sweat and sex filling the air. Have some decorum people. You grimaced as you were dragged through the party.

Somehow ending up in the living room with everyone in your friend group. “They have coke! Oh my gosh, I’ve like totally wanted to try it.” Ashley beamed and grabbed you. “C’mon let’s all do a line, when’s the next time you’ll be offered coke or something. We’ll be all old with wrinkles.” Ashley whined, trying to convince Claire and Jill who sighed and reluctantly agreed.

“Okay but doesn’t this like burn?” You questioned.

“What? Like Molly?” Ashley raised her eyebrow.

“No—Like doesn’t it burn your nostrils?” You raised an eyebrow back at her.

Jill sighed and picked up a straw that was on the table along with random lines of coke on the glass surface while you and Ashley argued over something as tedious as whether it’ll go down smoothly.

Claire followed in pursuit of Jill and did a line too, squeezing her eyes shut as she sniffled. “Jeez, that shit is strong..” She muttered as she pinched her nostrils, Jill nodded heavily in agreement.

“I forgot you’re the fucking coke queen of America. That’s my bad.” You huffed softly.

Ashley rolled her eyes and went to reach for a straw for you only to see Claire and Jill holding them. “You guys did it without us!!” She complained and you just sighed.

“Ash, we can just do a line right now.” You murmured which seemed to calm her down enough to keep her tantrum at bay. She holds your hand and leans down in sync with you as you both snorted a line.

At the same time you both did, Leon and his goon squad arrived at the party and everyone started cheering. Garnering the attention of all of you kneeled at the table.

You wiped away the residue on your nose and sniffled, narrowing your eyes at Leon for a second as he put on his Ghostface mask and his face was hidden again. He looked.. familiar.

You tried to ponder where you saw him at, but you just shrugged it off. Whatever. Probably nowhere.

Jill glanced over at Chris a few times while Claire was eyeing Carlos. Ashley immediately bounced up and was about to scurry over to Luis. You grabbed onto her wrist before she could run off.

“Ashley! Are you seriously ditching us for Luis?” You stared at her, trying to gauge her reaction.

“What? Noo—I would definitely not. ‘M just being friendly. I’ll totally come back.” She replied in her usual manner, which gave away that she was lying. You reluctantly let her go and she scurried off.

You sighed heavily as you watched Claire and Jill give each other a knowing look. “You guys too?!” You groaned out and they gave you a sheepish smile. “We’ll come back, we have our phones on sound and we’ll all go home together.” Jill assured, placing her hand on your thigh.

“You guys hate me.” You frowned with a slight pout and Claire pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Pinky promise we’ll come back.” She whispered and you took her pinky in your own. “Okay. Promise.” You sighed out.

Then you watched Claire and Jill disappear, probably to go curl up with Chris and Carlos. You weren’t very amused, the only reason you came was to hang out with them but Leon and his stupid friends came and ruined it.

Whatever. Least you had some entertainment, the coke on the table and the promise of alcohol.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

Leon smirked as he entered the party, he knew he was hot shit. But that lingering fear that he would be some name in the past still brewed within him. Which is why he agreed to tag along. The only question was where were you?

He sauntered deeper into the party with his friends until one by one they were plucked away by girls he recognized from your friend group. He pursed his lips beneath his mask, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips as he glanced around.

It’s as if fate itself had its way of showing itself as you stumbled into the kitchen, not dressed in much. His eyes widened in surprise as you walked to the punch bowl that was probably spiked by now and got yourself a cup of juice.

He watched from the corner of his eye in awe as you licked the rim of the cup to clean the few drops of juice you got on the side of the cup. He gulped and chastised himself, no he wasn’t supposed to be staring at you like some lovesick maniac. He was trying to prove himself tonight.

He would plow through so much pussy tonight it would leave you behind in the dust. Or at least that’s what he hoped.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

As the night lingered on you got more wasted to forget about the fact you got ditched for some dick. You couldn’t say you were surprised and honestly you were contemplating getting laid. But there was something uneasy about tonight.

Every room you slowly made your way into you saw some guy in the Ghostface costume making out with some girl, borderline groping each other over their clothes. At first you thought it was different guys until you got a good look at the face of the man behind the mask twice to realize it was the same guy with different girls each time. Weirdo. Is all you thought but you were smart enough to remember some guys have a game to see who can get the most kisses, hook ups, blowjobs in one night.

Leon on one hand was shocked each time you walked past him like it was nothing, like you just didn’t care. He was sure he could fuck some girl in front of everyone and you wouldn’t pay them any mind. What the hell?

With a growl he was determined to get your attention somehow, it didn’t even register that he was doing all this for your attention. His body reacting on pure instinct as he broke away from the kiss with the girl. A brief apology as he excused himself. Chasing after you as you drunkenly stumbled back to the kitchen.

He stood at a distance watching you rummage through the fridge. “All my friends hate me, oh my god.” You mumbled under your breath as you found nothing to satisfy your hungry belly. A soft pout on your expression until some guy pressed up against you from behind.

You paused for a second before you stood up straight and turned around to see some random guy in a batman costume staring down at you. “Uhm, hello.” You say as he leans down to inspect your costume. “Oh okay. Just go on ahead—“

“Raven? From Teen Titans?” He asked as his eyes met your own again.

“Oh yeah, my friend and I dressed as Raven and Starfire.” You slurred a bit as he rubbed his thumb over your chin. “Oh—Hellooo.” You giggled as the guy placed his other hand on your hip.

“We’re from the same franchise. I think your costume looks really cool.. I’m Brandon” He uttered softly, leaning down to brush his lips against yours and you eagerly reciprocated, whispering your own name into the kiss. You had plans starting to form in your head to go back with this guy to his dorm and hook up with him.

Well, you did at least plan to leave with him. But no way in hell was Leon going to let that happen. He stormed over, his angry expression hidden behind the Ghostface mask, he cleared his throat and tugged you away from the guy.

He glanced between you and the guy in his stupid batman costume. When he realized what he had done he immediately lied on the spot, blurting the first name of your friend that came to mind. “Ashley! Erm—Ashley asked if you could come help her with something.”

You blinked a few times as you processed what was said, realizing that the guy behind the Ghostface costume must know Ashley, which didn’t surprise you. “Oh.”

You bit on your bottom lip and glanced at Brandon. “Sorry. My friend needs me.” You replied and latched onto Leon’s arm. “Lead the way.” You hiccuped.

Leon immediately walked off with you, feeling a sense of pride at the knowledge he ruined that moment for you. Yet when he looked down at your face you didn’t seem to mind, in fact you seemed more worried about your friend.

Leon guided you out the party, letting the fresh air overcome him and you. He didn’t realize how hot it was inside until he stepped outside with you.

“Wait. She left the party?” You stopped in your tracks and gently tugged on Leon’s arm.

“What?” He said, confusion laced in his tone before he remembered the lie he uttered. “Oh yeah—yeah. She uhm, left to go with him but she told him to tell me you needed her.”

You didn’t seem to question him any further, which was a relief for him because he wasn’t sure how much more he could lie as he guided you back to the dorms. More specifically his.

What the fuck am I doing?

Why did I care so much that she was going to kiss some random dude?

Why am I taking her back to my dorm?

I should’ve been on my fourth hook up tonight and yet I haven’t touched any naked body yet.

Leon’s mind raced as he unlocked the door and guided you inside, closing the door behind him and locking it as you called out for Ashley.

“Ashley! Ugh I swear if it’s not something important and you made me miss out on the opportunity to get laid I’m gonna murder you!” You groaned out as you stumbled in your platformed boots; which in theory are horrible to wear while being wasted.

Leon pulled his mask off and tossed it onto his couch, wiping the sweat from his brow before he followed after you, grabbing hold of your wrist to turn you around towards him gently.

“Ew your hands are like.. gross and sweaty.” You made a face of disgust and his nose scrunched up in annoyance.

“Okay that’s a bit rude.” He huffed and looked at you, he would finally be able to see you for you at this moment. It suddenly hit him.

You’re not competition, obviously not if you’re not bragging about your hook up to him, rather your friend who definitely isn’t here.

Hell, you’re just a girl. A girl who he’s jealous of for no reason.

A girl who’s.. really fucking pretty?

His eyes widened as he came to the realization that it wasn’t anger at being replaced, it wasn’t jealousy of hearing your name being uttered time and time again instead of his.

No, that's stupid. I’ll see if she’s really as good as everyone says she is. He was determined to see what was so special about you.

Your nose scrunched up as if mimicking his own expression as you could see different emotions ran across his face. “Uhm hello?—“ You went to wave your hand in front of his eyes when he tightened his grip on you and pulled you in for a kiss with force. Such force that you stumbled.

A quick lie running out of his mouth smoothly as he cupped your face in his hands. “I lied, Ashley didn’t call you here.. I just have such a big crush on you and didn’t know how to express it.” He breathed out as your tongue ran over his bottom lip.

You, to his surprise, didn’t fight back or protest the kiss. You seemed to encourage it more than anything.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s kinda sly of you..” You remarked as you pulled back from the kiss, your lipstick smeared on his soft plump ones. You brought your thumb up to his bottom lip and wiped away as much as you could.

“So what’s your name you big stud.” You teased in a drunken tone, Leon bit his bottom lip and ducked down to capture your lips again. “Leon.” He muttered into the kiss, slowly guiding you to his room with careful steps.

He could tell you were getting tired of how slow he was moving so he patted your thigh to encourage you to hop up. Once you did he grabbed the back of your legs and held you firmly against him, your lips not parting from his own as he stumbled into his bedroom.

He dropped you down onto the bed and finally pulled away. “I have to turn on the lamp..” He mumbled quietly as he reached off to the side to flick the light on. The moonlight helped to illuminate the parts of the room the light didn’t reach fully.

When he looked down at you he felt his heart rate increase. “Fuck.” He cursed and you just smiled at the sight above you.

You reached your hand up to move his hair out of his face. “What? Think I’m pretty or something?” You asked and he nodded, a soft giggle leaving your precious lips.

So precious. He thought as he pressed his left palm above your head against the bed while his other hand came up to cup and fondle your breast above your costume.

You managed to kick your boots off somehow, leaning back against the bed comfortably. “Well that’s sweet of you. I think you’re quite handsome.” You replied as your hair laid spread out behind you.

Leon hesitated for a second, what does he do now? He’s been hooking up with people for awhile now and for once in his life he’s stunned on what to do next. He opens his mouth to speak but all that comes out is a soft moan as you drag his hand up to your mouth to suck on his thumb.

“Hah.. you’re good at that hm?” He cooed, pressing his thumb down against your tongue. With a soft hum from you he adjusted the way he was hovering above you so he could use both hands instead of one.

He dragged his left hand down your torso right down to your pussy, he could feel the heat radiating off of such an intimate part of you. This made his cock throb with want as he pushed the crotch of your costume to the side.

“I guess this costume is pretty much easy access..” He spoke his inner thoughts aloud, watching you blush beneath his watchful gaze before his fingertip brushed against your clit.

You mewled softly and brought your hands up to paw at his chest, wanting his costume off but he clicked his tongue. “Patience. Good things come to those who wait.” He scolded you lightly and gave you a shit eating grin as you frowned.

“You’re like a delicacy.” He explained, rubbing his middle and ring finger through your folds before prodding them against your hole. “You must be handled with care.” He punctuated his words by shoving his fingers inside of you.

You gasped and your back arched off the bed a little. “O-Oh fuck. That feels good.. your fingers are so thick.” You whimpered around his thumb, he snickered softly and pulled his thumb away from your mouth, pressing the wet digit against your clit to rub hard and fast circles against the sensitive little bud while his other hand moved in tandem by fucking his fingers in and out of you.

A slick squelching sound resounding through the room followed by lewd moans coming from you. Who would’ve thought having sex while being high on coke made everything feel ten times better?

“Leon.” You whined softly as your walls clenched down tightly around his fingers. “You’re g’nna make me cum..”

Leon just shrugged and leaned down to nip at your neck. “And? That’s what you want, right baby?” He whispered directly in your ear, sucking on your earlobe. He let out a low chuckle as you cried out a soft yes.

He doubled down on his efforts and you swore you saw stars, definitely. You squealed softly as your orgasm crashed down onto your body like a truck, your cheeks and the tips of your ears turning red and hot with arousal.

“There’s we go. That’s my girl.” He lapped at the pulse point on your neck as you settled down from your high, he took the opportunity to strip himself of his clothes but not before getting a taste of what he was going to be indulging in.

He brought his fingers up to his mouth and swirled his tongue around his own digits, sighing softly as he tasted the sweet essence that he had coaxed out of you.

“God. That shits perfect.” Leon bit his bottom lip as he began to remove his clothes, eyeing you hungrily as his cock sprung up into view.

You mumbled something before sitting up on your elbows, your mouth almost instantly watering at the sight of his dick. “Woah.” You blinked a few times before reaching out to touch.

Accidentally grabbing it too hard made Leon hiss in pleasure. “God damn. Easy baby.” He groaned out, and you winced out a soft apology, letting him guide your hand to be the perfect pressure and pace for him to get off on.

“Wait..” You said suddenly which made Leon pause, staring down at you questioningly. “Can you get your uh.. the mask.” You asked coyly, twirling a strand of your hair around your finger slyly as it registered what you wanted in his head.

“Sure thing.” He chuckled and patted your cheek, disappearing for a second before returning with the mask on his head. You grinned wickedly as he stood near the edge of his bed.

“How do I look—“ He was cut off by you yanking him down onto the bed, straddling him as you smirked. “I’m gonna absolutely ravish you.” You sighed out softly, having already removed your clothes when he stepped out the room.

Leon was quite stunned at the 360 shift in attitude. You were just crying on his fingers a few seconds ago and now you’re practically pinning him down. He placed his hands on your thighs, gently rubbing his thumbs against your soft skin.

“Yeah? What if I want to ravish you?” He retorted and you leaned down to press your bare chest against his own, “You could try.” You slurred quietly, but as the hours went on the more you slightly sobered up.

“Guess I’ll have to try super hard then.” He whispered softly as he grabbed his cock, rubbing the tip of it through your folds with a soft hum. You bit your bottom lip as you eventually sank down on him, the two releasing a soft moan in sync with each other.

It didn’t take long for Leon to start bouncing you on his cock as you rode him with an eager pace, it seems the mask was doing things for you that you yourself weren’t even aware would do.

The wet sounds between the two resounding through the room as skin on skin slapping against each other blended into the mix. “Fuck, you’re so tight.. ‘n wet.. ‘n warm.” He whined, fingers digging into your plush thighs as he bucked his hips up into you.

You nodded in acknowledgment. Your eyes fluttered shut as you could feel that coil in your gut tightening with each thrust and bounce. You knew you were close and so did Leon. “I’m almost there.” He panted out, gulping beneath the mask which was starting to prove to be extremely hot. He was sure he had sweat all over his face and head, if he was to remove the mask he was 99% sure that his hair would be thoroughly damp.

Yet if he could get girls to ride him as crazy and as good as you do he would wear it for every hookup encounter he ever had.

You reached your hands up to start punching and twisting your nipples, fondling your tits to tease him. He grunted loudly as he watched you with bated breath. “Fuck, keep playing with yourself like that. Touch that pretty little clit of yours too.” He gritted out as you did so, causing your walls to clamp down tightly around his cock.

Your jaw dropped as his cock brushed against that spongy spot inside of you that never failed to give you chills. “I-I can’t hold it..” You cried out, hand still moving quickly against your clit. Leon could see your chest rising and falling quickly and he was just a few seconds away from spilling his own seed.

“I know. W-Where do you want it?” He uttered aloud, squeezing his eyes shut and throwing his head back against his bed. “Mm. Inside, please.” You whined, bucking your hips eagerly.

Leon's eyes shot open and his head shot up to stare at you. “Fuck.. that’s so hot. Are you sure?” He was a bit nervous and didn’t want to cum inside of you if you weren’t 100% sure.

With an eager nod you spoke once more. “Yes! God, please! Inside of me, Leon.” You insisted, throwing your head back in pleasure as he thrusted a couple more times before pulling your hips flush against his own, he came before you did and it only took a few quick rubs from you before your orgasm hit you once more.

You practically collapsed on top of him with a heavy breath, resting your head on his chest as he moved his hands up to pull the mask off, finally being free of the sweaty contraption. He wrapped both his arms around you as his cock started to soften within your warm wet walls.

Fuck. He had to admit that the people were right about you being a good fuck.

Especially when you looked up at him with that soft smile but your eyes told a different story as you wiggled your hips a bit, it’s as if he didn’t even start to soften to begin with as he was fully hard within seconds.

Guess he was in for a long night, just as long as you don’t hear the incessant buzzing coming from your phone that was discarded on his nightstand haphazardly from your friends.

[ssprayberrythings]

famous siblings | CL16

charles leclerc x female horan!reader, niall horan x sister!reader 

you’re the little sister of 1D member niall horan and when he gets invited to an f1 grand prix, he decides to take his girlfriend amelia and you, his sister where you meet the wonderful and most charming ferrari driver who ends up capturing your heart. 

warnings: im pretty sure none worth mentioning

note: there will be a second part to this but still feel free to give feedback and express your thoughts!!!

masterlist | taglist

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July 9th, 2023 

y/nhoran_ posted on their story  

caption: having a famous big bro has its perks 😎 @niallhoran @lewishamilton

*replies disabled* 

niallhoran posted on instagram   

y/nhoran_, mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, johnlegend, kellyclarkson & others liked 

Had a great time at Silverstone this past weekend. Thanks Mercedes for hosting us! 🖤 

tagged: mercedesamgf1 

view all comments 

niallfan: omg not niall being at an f1 race 

f1fan: the 1d x f1 girlies are not doing well after this 

niallerforlife: give me a moment to freak out brb 

fan23: did anyone see y/n’s story? they met lewis 

fan12: i love that amelia and y/n both got to go with him 

mercedesamgf1: it was a pleasure having you and your loved ones in the paddock 🖤

╰ liked by niallhoran 

y/nhoran_ posted on instagram    

niallhoran, ameliawoolleyx, mercedesamgf1, niallfan, charles_leclerc, gemmastyles & others liked 

Had a great weekend with great people 🫶 (except you Nialler🙄) 

tagged: niallhoran, ameliawoolleyx, mercedesamgf1 

view all comments 

ameliawoolleyx: Love you sis 😘

╰ y/nhoran_: ❤️

fan1: the sisterly love between y/n and amelia i love 

niallhoran: I’m the only reason you got to come but okay..🙄

╰ y/nhoran_: Okay but who got a second invite..? Thats what I thought😎

╰ fan23: wait what 👀

horan_niall: the horan siblings back at it again with their iconic bickering 

f1fan: anyone else see charles in the likes ?? and he follows all 3 of them ?? but they got invited by mercedes ?? confused 

╰ fan22: ooooh ok charles we see you.. 

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July 20th, 2023

y/nhoran_ posted on their story  

caption: another day, another plane selfie 😎

*replies disabled* 

July 24th, 2023

y/nhoran_ posted on instagram  

ameliawoolleyx, gemmastyles, niallhoran, kellyclarkson, charles_leclerc & others liked 

A weekend in Paris. Proud of what you’re achieving big bro 🫂

tagged: niallhoran

view all comments 

niallhoran: Happy you could be here sis! 

╰ liked by y/nhoran_

niallerfan: I love these two sm 

f1fan21: f1 fans; are we still seeing charles in the likes 

╰ f1fan2: yes we still see him..👀

niallfan: favourite siblings next to gemma and harry !!!

gemmastyles: missing you girly 💛

╰ y/nhoran_: not as much as im missing you 🥹

╰ horanfan: their friendship even after all these years 

-

dm between charles and y/n 

charles_leclerc: you know whats close to paris? 

charles_leclerc: monaco..😏

y/nhoran_: oh really? and why exactly would i go to monaco? 😏

charles_leclerc: i’m sure i could come up with a few reasons, one of them being me 

y/nhoran_: ferrari boy are you asking me on a date to monaco? 

charles_leclerc: if you’ll say yes, then yes i am. 

y/nhoran_: i’m sure i could see what i could do about getting to monaco..

y/nhoran_: wait aren’t you racing? 

charles_leclerc: we have one more race and then we great a break 😊

y/nhoran_: okay well how about you text me when you’re back in monaco and we’ll arrange this date 😊

y/nhoran_: heres my number: xxx-xxx-xx11 

╰ liked by charles_leclerc 

y/nhoran_: oh and good luck at the next race! 🙃

charles_leclerc: thanks 😊

╰ liked by y/nhoran_ 

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July 30th, 2023 

charles_leclerc posted on instagram    

pierregasly, scurderiaferrari, f1, oscarpiastri, y/nhoran_ & others liked 

What a great race, happy to be back on the podium! 🏆 

Now its time to recharge and see you in a few weeks. ❤️

tagged: scurderiaferrari 

view all comments 

f1fan: good job charles !!!! 

charlesleclerclover_: SO PROUD 

f1fan23: GOOD JOB !!! 

scuderiaferrari: ❤️

╰ liked by charles_leclerc 

niallfan12: anyone notice y/n now in his likes ??? 

╰ f1fan21: hmmm..somethings cooking 

╰ niallfan15: f1 fans x 1D fandom…look out 

August 3rd, 2023 

y/nhoran_ posted on their story  

caption: Travel fit! ✈️❤️

╰ charles_leclerc: Cant wait to see you😊

╰ niallhoran: safe travels ✌🏻

You boarded the plane to Monaco, being sure to text Niall your plane information and to text Charles letting you know you were on the plane. Shortly after the flight attendant instructed everyone to turn off their phones. 

Before you turned off yours, you caught Charles’ text back, 

Ferrari Boy🏎️ : See you soon☺️

You smiled at it before turning your phone off. You still couldn’t believe you and Charles were actually going on a date. Obviously when you first back at Silverstone, there was light flirting but you just had one of those personalities which you seemed to have in common with the driver.

He asked for your instagram and you happily gave it to him, following him back and then you parted ways. He once and awhile popped up in your likes but you didn’t think anything of it until you found out that he had also followed your brother and Amelia back when he followed you and then when he finally slid in your DMs, you knew this went beyond mindless flirting. 

You smiled at the thought of him and possibly something coming from this. With that you placed your headphones on your ears and decided to try and get some sleep before you landed and you’d be immersed into the busy life that was Monaco. 

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August 4th, 2023 

y/nhoran_ posted on instagram 

niallhoran, gemmastyles, madelyncline, charles_leclerc & others liked 

🖤❤️

view all comments 

gemmastyles: I expect details in my dm’s tomorrow morning, no later 

╰ y/nhoran_: Yes ma’am 🫡

╰ gemmastyles: 😘

niallfan22: Y/N YOU LOOK STUNNING (as always!) 

niallfan12: anyone wondering why she’s all dressed up??? could it be for a date??

╰ f1fan21: WITH OUR BELOVED FERRARI BOY, POSSIBLY?

╰ niallfan13: y’all are so delulu, i love it 

ameliawoolleyx: Gorgeous girl ❤️

╰ liked by y/nhoran_ 

August 5th, 2023

f1updates_ posted on instagram  

f1fan, charlesleclercfan_, f1fan23, niallfan12 & others liked 

new blurry photo of charles spotted out in monaco last night with a new girl🧐

who could she be? possibly a new wag or is it too early for that status? 

view all comments 

f1fan26: how do we know thats charles??

╰ f1updates_: the source that sent it in confirmed that was his car near them 

f1fan22: hmmmm…

f1fan21: i think i know who this is…😏

╰ niallfan12: miss y/n horan you were spotted…😏

f1fan16: the f1 fans are delulu, no way thats y/n horan 

f1fan4: i want it to be y/n horan cause she’s cool and charles’ type but it probably isn’t her 

niallfan18: if it is y/n we should definitely give them their privacy, she’s never had any dating rumours surrounding her before 

╰ niallfan17: agreed !!! 

╰ f1fan91: and for charles too..they both deserve their privacy 

╰ liked by niallfan18 

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August 5th, 2023

y/nhoran_ posted a series of stories on instagram  

caption: about last night..😜🥰 

caption: out exploring 🌞  

caption: im moving here and buying my own yacht 🛥️

*replies on all stories disabled* 

August 6th, 2023 

charles_leclerc posted on their story  

caption: I think she likes my car more than me..

*replies disabled* 

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August 7th, 2023 

y/nhoran_ posted on instagram  

charles_leclerc, niallhoran, gemmastyles, f1fan22, niallfan15 & others liked 

I love the art in Monaco..🥹

view all comments 

f1fan: SO SHE IS WITH CHARLES 

niallfan22: Y/N YOURE GIVING US BREADCRUMBS 

charles_leclerc: anything else you love in monaco? ;) 

╰ y/nhoran_ : I can name a few other things..

╰ niallfan12: ARE THEY FLIRTING ON INSTAGRAM 

f1fan12: ARE WE IN THE SOFT LAUNCH ERA OR HARD LAUNCH ERA? THE PEOPLE NEED TO KNOW 

niallfan16: can anyone check in with niall and how he feels about all of this 

-

texts between niall and y/n

niall: so hows monaco? anything i should know? 

y/n: monaco’s great 

niall: you didn’t answer my other question 

y/n: how are you? how are the festivals? 

niall: stop avoiding the question

y/n: okay fine what do you want to know 

niall: whats going on with you and charles ? 

y/n: at the moment? we’re on his boat 

niall: i didnt mean right in this moment🙄

niall: i mean overall 

y/n: i dont know what we are

y/n: we’re just taking it easy 

y/n: he invited me to monza which is a big deal to him and the f1 community in general 

niall: you should go 

y/n: wait youre supporting that?

niall: yeah, if its a big deal for him and he invited you then you should go

y/n: wow, im just surprised youre being so chill 

niall: dont push it 

niall: you’re still my little sister but i trust you 

niall: tell him if he does anything though..i wont be so chill 

y/n: understood overprotective brother niall 🫡

y/n: okay im getting back to my date 

niall: have fun 

y/n: oh we will..

niall: NOPE NOPE NOPE LALALALALALALA I CANT HEAR YOU 

y/n: youre such a child for a grown man..😒

-

August 8th, 2023 

f1updates_ posted on instagram  

f1fan12, f1fan23, niallfan12, niallfan16, f1wags & others liked 

new photos of charles and a girl that people are believing to be y/n horan, sister to one direction member, niall horan. it seems as if y/n has been in monaco for some time visiting and judging by their socials, they’ve been spending a lot of time with eachother. what does this mean for them? how long has this been going on? so many questions.. 

view all comments 

f1fan12: OH MY 

f1fan7: THIS HAS TO BE Y/N 

niallfan16: UGH THEYRE ACTUALLY CUTE TOGETHER IF IT IS Y/N

niallfan18: i so badly just want a hard launch post 

f1fan27: I NEED A CHARLES AND NIALL INTERACTION 

╰ niallfan4: YOU AND ME BOTH 

August 8th, 2023

f1wags posted on instagram     

f1fan23, f1fan12, f1fan11, niallfan12, niallfan15, niallfan44 & others liked 

Possible New WAG Update: 

Lately theres been photos taken of Charles Leclerc and Y/N Horan that shows the two are definitely more than just friends. Neither have yet to confirm or deny the dating rumours starting to surface but if they are dating, we thought we’d make a post for Y/N for the fans that don’t know who she is already incase she is our newest WAG. 

Y/N Horan, younger sister to One Direction member, Niall Horan. Y/N is 24 years old. She attended the University of Galway for a Bachelor of Arts Undergrad, specifically in Digital Arts and Technology. Since graduating, she sometimes models and will do ads for high end brands. Judging from her social media, she enjoys traveling, attending her brothers concerts and spending time with her close circle of friends which include other 1D member, Harry Styles’ sister, Gemma Styles. From what we gathered she primarily resides in London but does frequently go home to Ireland to visit family. 

In regards to her and Charles, we don’t have much, other than the few photos taken of them recently. We're guessing they met when Y/N joined Niall in attending the Silverstone Grand Prix back in July which means the two technically have known each other for about a month. We’re not sure how much of that time have been as friends or more than friends. For now thats all we got but if we find out anymore we’ll be sure to keep the account updated. 

*comments have been disabled* 

-

August 9th, 2023 

y/nhoran_ posted on their story  

caption: ❤️

*replies have been disabled* 

It was time for you to get back to London, you had a photoshoot with Ralph Lauren coming up and Charles was planning on spending time with family before he had to get back to racing. 

The last few days had been amazing. You got to see so much and really got to know Charles. You could feel yourself falling for him, he made it so easy but you didn’t want to rush anything so you decided not to bring it up, wanting to enjoy your time together before you left. 

Currently the two of you were cuddled up in his bed, he had insisted you stay with him instead of getting a hotel which you ended up really enjoying. He was playing with your hair while you had your head on his chest 

“I had a really great time here” you told him lifting your head up and looking at him, as he stopped playing with your hair with your movement 

“I’m really glad you came and let me show you around” he smiled, you could see it in his eyes, he was being genuine. 

“Next time you’re free you need to let me show you around Ireland to return the favour” you suggested. He had shown you his home, you wanted to show him yours. 

“I’d love that. I’ve never been to Ireland before” he told you, his smile never leaving his face

“We should probably go to sleep, so I actually wake up in the morning for my flight” you suggested even though you would’ve rather stayed up and talked with Charles 

“I know” he agreed, the sadness lingering in his words, just like you he would’ve preferred to stay up and chat all night. 

The two of you, got situated in bed, you enjoyed getting to spoon, you’d switch between who was the big spoon and who was the little, which at first surprised you because you would’ve thought Charles always liked being the bigger spoon but there were times when he just wanted to be held which of course just added to why he made falling for him an easy task. 

Tonight you were the little spoon which you both enjoyed. You laid on your side, your back against Charles’ chest while his arm held you against him and his other arm stayed free so he could play with your hair. 

You fell asleep before he did and he just laid there watching you sleep peacefully. He hadn’t felt this comfortable around someone in awhile and he didn’t ever want to be apart from you. 

He was falling for you and unknowingly to him you were falling just as hard. This brought forth one question and that was; who was going to take the first step and be the one to tell the other about their blossoming feelings? 

-

taglist: @namgification @itsyagirlmeee

TO BE CONTINUED !!!

im so happy with how this turned out! please feel free to leave comments and thoughts! if you want to be added to my taglist there's a link on my account!! anyways enjoy 😋

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddie-spooktober.

Gravity Always Wins

Day #3 Prompt: Apples | Word Count: 6464 | Rating: M | POV: Eddie | CW: Language, Sex | Tags: Modern AU, Meet Cute, Apple Picking, Bakery Owner Steve, Sports Guy Steve, Smitten Eddie Munson, Platonic Stobin, Gareth, Good Uncle Wayne Munson

Also right here on ao3.

"Oh shit, oh fuck," Eddie says as the apple tumbles out of his grasp. He looks down in horror as it falls, like a slow-motion car wreck happening right before his very eyes, as it lands directly on the guy's head that was picking below him.

To add insult to injury, it hits with a very audible thunk. 

Shit, he shouldn't even be allowed on a ladder. That's like the first rule of the universe or some shit. Who signed off on this? Honestly.

"I'm so sorry, are you okay?" Eddie asks, coming down the ladder, watching as the guy, the very pretty guy, rubs at the top of his head, only slightly worried he's about to get his ass kicked in a goddamn apple orchard.

But the guy is laughing.

He's laughing, and gorgeous, and Eddie can't help but smile. 

"Goddamn you, Newton!" Eddie shouts, dramatically shaking his fist in the air, eyes trained on the sky, as if he had nothing at all to do with this, and that gravity alone was solely to blame.

"Gravity always wins," the guy says, then adds, "I'm good, honest, you just startled me. I never thought concussion number four would be at the hands of an apple. But here we are."

Eddie feels his face fall.

"Oh, oh no, I'm kidding. I was just teasing you. I'm fine. Look? It was just a little apple," he says, leaning over to pick up the offending piece of fruit. 

Eddie eyes it in his palm, "That's definitely gonna have a bruise."

"Like my head," he teases, and Eddie reaches out and pops him on the shoulder, making him pull back, giggling. His sweater is soft under Eddie's hand, and Eddie wants to reach out and stroke it again, but stops himself. Content to just stare a second.

He's truly something to look at. Goddamn.

Eddie just smiles at him, and when he straightens back up, he hands the apple back.

It is a little apple, and Eddie probably shouldn't have picked it in the first place, but he doesn't know what the fuck he's doing. He saw an apple, and picked it.

Looking at the bushel this guy has selected, though, gives him pause. They are evenly sized, and brightly colored. No blemishes at all. Perfect apples, for the perfect guy.

Eddie's are a little misshapen and odd. The freaks, if you will, but he thinks that's pretty damn fitting.

"Guess you'll have to make applesauce–" the guy starts, and then stops, clearly searching for Eddie's name.

"Eddie," Eddie offers.

"Eddie," he repeats. "I'm Steve."

"Well, Steve, I would make some applesauce if I knew how," Eddie laughs.

"You could always come by my bakery slash coffee shop," Steve offers, sort of shaking the basket slung over his arm, "That's why I'm picking apples today. So I can make some seasonal items with local apples. Customers eat that shit up."

Eddie thinks he's being picked up. Maybe. Or not. He's never very good at getting those signals right. Gareth says he's hopeless, and sometimes that feels more accurate than he'd like to admit.

Like, right now. Is Steve hitting on him, or trying to drum up business? 

Eddie decides he honestly doesn't exactly care which it is, "Sure, I'd love to be the guinea pig for your apple pie."

"Well," Steve says, lowering his voice in a way that makes Eddie feel funny in a good way, "I never said pie."

"Oh, well, in that case…" Eddie teases, trailing off, acting as if he's going to walk away.

But, Steve just laughs at him, and digs in his wallet, producing a little business card: Harrington's. Since 1955.

"My, you look awfully good for your age," Eddie says.

Steve laughs, "My grandma and grandpa ran it before me. And they didn't think they'd have anyone to take over the family business when they retired. And then I turned up, with nothing better to do."

Eddie nods. He's definitely going to stop by Steve's family business, not even for the not-pie, but just so he can see more of this guy, "Well, in that case. When should I show up?"

"Tomorrow, anytime after three?" Steve suggests, and Eddie is nodding along. Tomorrow after three sounds perfect to him. 

Eddie pulls up in the alley behind the back of the bakery, as directed, and can't really believe he's here. Like, what does he know about baking? He can't even bake a box of brownies without messing them up somehow.

But, Steve is gorgeous, and this isn't an invite he's about to turn down. He's a fool, but he's no dummy. Eddie pushes on the back door, and it's heavy, but slowly glides open. 

"Knock, knock," Eddie says, and then hears a commotion. Lots of yelling. Like a fight is happening. 

His fight or flight starts to kick in, and flight will always win for him, but…he pauses.

He knows that kind of yelling from Uncle Wayne, and as far as a fight goes, it's surely a one-sided one, because Steve's staring up at the mounted television over on the wall, screaming at the refs of a football game, as he stands inside an industrial kitchen, at a stainless steel prep table, peeling apples.

Oh, no. No, no, no.

Steve the Baker is also Steve the Sports Guy? That wasn't advertised on the label at all. 

Eddie's been hoodwinked. The wool pulled straight over his eyes. Was bamboozled by a pretty face in a warm-looking sweater, right there in a goddamn apple orchard.

He's starting to plan his escape, when Steve turns to look at him, and smiles, waving his paring knife in the air, "Hey! You made it!"

"Hey," Eddie says back, shucking off his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack by the door. Steve sounds excited to see him, and maybe the game is almost over. He could deal with it for a few minutes. Steve was very pretty in that sweater.

He squints at the screen, and the score is 0-0 and it's still the first quarter. He doesn't know a lot about sports, but he grew up with Wayne. He at least understands that this means the damn thing has just started. 

"You care if I leave the game on?" Steve asks, flashing him those warm eyes, and Eddie finds himself nodding along with that idea, like a damn idiot. No, he doesn't want to watch sports, but…that face.

That face will make him break his most solemn of vows: no sports. He just won't tell Wayne or Gareth. He'll gloss right over that part, and nobody will ever have to know that he spent the whole afternoon with football blaring in the background of his maybe date.

Because, as good looking as this guy is, and as much as Eddie would like to eat this guy, and his baked goods, alive, he's sure this isn't going to go any further than this afternoon. It can't. What would they talk about? Baking and football? Eddie doesn't know anything about either of those topics. But he can surely bumble through one afternoon. That'll be fine. Eddie can do anything for one afternoon. All the odd jobs he's ever held has proven that.

Hell, if he plays his cards right, maybe he can get one night out of it, too.

But long-term? He can already see the writing on the wall, and it bums him out, just a little bit. He hadn't been this excited about a guy in a while.

Steve hands Eddie a peeler, and Eddie goes to work, peeling the whole bushel of apples that Steve has washed and laid out on a towel. He does know how to work a peeler, at least. That was his job for potatoes at Wayne's, when he was far too little to do anything else.

"So, tell me about yourself. Do you always assault men with apples?" Steve asks, and Eddie looks over at him and smiles.

"Only the cute ones," Eddie flirts, and loves the blush that stains Steve's cheeks as he looks back down at the apples he's evenly slicing. 

"No offense, but you don't seem like the apple picking type," Steve says, and Eddie laughs. He's not wrong. "What brought you out there, especially all by yourself?"

"It's part of my contract. Free apples from the orchard and free pumpkins from the patch," Eddie says, then realizes that doesn't explain anything at all, adding, "I work nights at the haunted hayride. As a scare actor," Eddie says, then holds his hands up like a zombie.

Steve's eyes are big, and it's awfully cute as he laughs.

"So, free apples. I mean, how many apples or pumpkins can one man eat? But free is free."

"Maybe I'll teach you how to bake something using them," Steve suggests and Eddie nods. He'd like that. A lot, he thinks. Even if that's all he gets out of the day.

"Deal. So, what's on the menu for today?"

Steve grins, "Apple fritters. Cupcakes. There's this apple maple upside down cake I want to try. A cobbler. Someone suggested an apple pie."

"They sound smart," Eddie banters, and Steve just keeps smiling.

"Have you ever made a dessert pizza?" Eddie asks, meeting Steve's eyes.

"Like from Pizza Hut?" Steve questions, and Eddie nods.

"No, but we totally can. I've never thought to try to make it myself."

Eddie smiles at the thought. He imagines homemade would be even better than what used to be on the buffet at Pizza Hut when he was younger.

Steve moves from slicing apples to dicing them very small and fine. In perfect little squares that are very impressive to Eddie's eyes. He can barely cut anything evenly, so that seems like quite the feat.

Eddie watches as Steve goes between watching the knife in his hands so he doesn't cut his fingers off, and the ballgame. 

"You should come to the hayride," Eddie blurts out.

Steve smiles, "I don't really do scary things, or anything that risks a head injury these days."

It's just a trailer pulled around the grounds, nobody touches anybody. Couldn't if they wanted to, but if he doesn't like scary, he doesn't like scary. Then he remembers something Steve had joked about in the orchard after Eddie had beaned him with that apple.

"Have you really already had three concussions?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah," Steve answers, "at least three that I know about. But not from falling apples. I'm fine. I promise."

"How'd you get them?" Eddie asks, because he isn't sure how one gets that many concussions unless they've been abused, and his stomach drops. Maybe he shouldn't have asked that. Maybe it's none of his goddamn business. Maybe-

"I got one from a dickhead in high school that blindsided me during a stupid fight, and then the other two from football plays in college, a couple weeks apart. One was a dirty, on purpose, helmet-to-helmet late hit, the last one was during a quarterback sneak that went wrong."

Eddie has no idea what that means.

"What's that mean?" Eddie asks.

Steve looks at him, "Not a football guy?"

Eddie shakes his head adamantly, "Not an any sports guy. Sorry."

"That's okay," Steve says, "A quarterback sneak is when you only need to move a yard or two down the field to, say, get across the goal line to score, or get a first down, and the linemen in front of you, the big guys, push forward and the quarterback tries to carry it over himself. No hand-off. No throw."

"And you were the quarterback?"

"I was. I was a little too exposed, and one of the defensive players came in and hit me helmet to helmet in the dogpile. Snapped my neck backwards."

"I'm sorry," Eddie says.

"It happens. Most of the time you go into concussion protocol, and clear it. Mine wasn't even caught immediately after it happened. Not even by me. I hopped right back up, and it wasn't until I'd thrown a few uncharacteristic picks later, that they decided something must be wrong with me and pulled me out of the game and straight into the tent. Once the migraines started a few days later, and never really stopped after all the other symptoms went away, that was the end of the line. No more football. No NFL draft."

Eddie swallows, that's fucking rough.

"They forced you to stop?" Eddie asks. 

"Yes," Steve says, then must change his mind, "No. Not really. The specialists suggested it. I don't think they could have forced me to comply. Hell, they'll play you into the ground. But it would have been a risk to draft a known concussion magnet. So, it was a choice I had to make for myself, and I chose to stop, to preserve what I had left. Stop it at the occasional migraine. Of course Robin, my best friend, would have flayed me alive if I'd done anything else. She was the first to call it, and she was right."

"But you were good enough to go pro? If you hadn't taken those hits?" Eddie asks, quietly.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows?" Steve answers with a shrug, like he doesn't really care one way or the other, but he must care. He'd have to. Eddie knows he'd care if he couldn't play the guitar anymore, and he's never been anywhere near going professional.

"But you still watch it? Football? Even after losing the chance to play?" Eddie asks.

Steve smiles, "Hell yeah. I still love the game. Even if I can't play."

Then he points at the screen, "I'm friends with #52. In the white. We went to college together. It all worked out better for him than it did me, but I couldn't be prouder of him. A little jealous, sure. But really proud, too."

"Do you ever get to go to games in person, or is that impossible with the bakery?"

"I try to hit one a season, as that's about all the favors I can call in with my friends. Coming in at three a.m. to get shit ready is a hard sell, let me tell you," Steve laughs, "That and they don't know what they're doing. So, it's just easier to just stay here. Watch on television. Scream at the refs from home instead of the stands."

"I know all about the screaming. I live with my uncle, and he has a sport for every season, I swear it. Getting him to move to Indy with me was no small feat, let me tell you," Eddie laughs, "But he needed to retire from the plant. He still works, because he's a stubborn old man, but now he's at a local hardware store instead, bossing clueless jackasses around. His words, not mine."

Steve laughs, "He sounds great."

"He is, and of course you'd think so, you sports guys always stick together."

Steve laughs, nodding like it's true, and then they go back to work. Baking, watching the game, and cheering on Steve's friend to a close game win.

And that evening, Eddie goes home with a still warm pie, and a phone number for Steve burning a hole in his pocket.

They spend the next two weeks texting back and forth, with a few short phone calls sprinkled in for good measure, but it hasn't gone beyond that. Eddie isn't sure if Steve's just busy or uninterested in setting up a second date. He wishes he'd just tell him. They could just be friends, but Eddie would rather know that now, instead of later once he's already gotten swept away by the idea of dating him, for real.

Eddie looks at his phone as Chrissy does his makeup, "Eyes up, Munson."

Steve hasn't responded, but he's probably asleep. Eddie puts his phone on the table, "Yes, ma'am."

She laughs, and gets him ready for another night of a constant loop of visitors to the maze. They've done this for a few years now, and they're all good at it, and it's not bad seasonal work. It helps pay the bills for the band to keep trying, stay plugging along. 

Eddie knows they aren't gonna make it big, not now, that window has closed. But they still make music together, good music he thinks, so taking on odd jobs to still do that has been worth it. 

Maybe after thirty he'll have to settle down, but for right now? He's just having fun.

"Tell me about the boy," she sing-songs, then changes her mind, "No, keep your mouth shut until I'm done with your face."

Eddie laughs, and keeps his mouth shut, as directed.

"But tell me later, though."

And he nods. He definitely will. Gareth's sick of hearing about Steve, so if he has a fresh pair of ears to listen to him yap, he's definitely all-in on that.

It's actually gotten chilly tonight, but when the second-to-last trailer full of guests pulls around the corner at quarter to two, Eddie sees Steve sitting next to a woman that has to be Robin. She just looks exactly like what Eddie imagined every time Steve's told a story about her. And she looks very grumpy about being awake in the middle of the night.

Eddie is stoked, and rushes around from Gareth to Jeff to Goodie to Chrissy, pointing out Steve, and then hurrying back to his spot for the last trailer. They don't really care all that much. He's sure they're happy for him, but they definitely just want to finish doing their jobs and get the fuck out of here for the night.

Steve's lingering by the employees only sign when Eddie exits backstage.

"You came," Eddie says, makeup hastily scrubbed off his face. It's a big no-no to interact with the guests in character, even if it's the guy you've been playing phone tag with for the last two weeks. He wasn't sure Steve would stay, but he did, and Eddie's fucking thrilled to see him.

"This is Robin," Steve says, slinging his arm over her shoulders.

Eddie starts to say hi, when the door bangs closed behind him, and he turns to see Chrissy on her way out.

"Night, Eddie," Chrissy says, as she passes by them, her dirty dead cheerleader costume slung over her arm.

"Was she the cheerleader?" Robin hisses, and Eddie nods. 

"Hey, Chris, wait!" he hollers, and drags her closer, making introductions. He's no dummy, he knows what that question entailed, and he has no problem playing a hint of matchmaker. And if they're talking, that'll give Eddie some time alone with Steve. 

The fact that Steve showed up at all, late at night, was a sacrifice of sleeping time. Eddie knows it, and appreciates it. So, he won't keep him. He'll send him back home to bed, or straight to the bakery, wherever he needs to be next, so he can get ready to make the donuts as Steve likes to say. 

"I'm glad you came," Eddie says, running his hand up Steve's arm. 

"Of course, I couldn't resist the opportunity to see you as the evil undead."

Eddie grins at him. He really likes this guy. 

"The bats were really believable."

Eddie grins, and tells him all about how he helped design them with his friends. They built the pulley system in Gareth's garage on the cheap, but it works, and well.

Steve nods along, then pulls Eddie into the darkness, where the floodlights don't reach. Eddie goes, willingly, sliding his hands along Steve's waist. 

And then they're kissing, and Eddie couldn't be more fucking thrilled. 

Steve is interested. And Eddie is definitely interested.

Steve's tongue slides along his, and Eddie squeezes him tighter, pulling Steve into his body, wanting to be closer. As close as they can get here in this dark alleyway. 

When Steve pulls back, he presses his forehead to Eddie's, and Eddie tries to look into his eyes this close-up.

"I've wanted to do that since the orchard," Steve says.

"Fuck, me too," Eddie admits. He'd like to do more, too, but Robin is yelling that her alarm is going off, meaning Steve's got to get to the bakery. 

Steve's day is just beginning, and Eddie's is just ending. Their schedules couldn't be more out of sync if they tried.

But Eddie reluctantly lets him go, they say their goodbyes, but Eddie is already scheming how he'll get to see Steve next.

The next morning, Eddie forces himself out of bed at a normal hour so he can go to the bakery. Gareth follows him to the van, tagging along without an invite, but Eddie doesn't care, as long as he can see Steve, it's all good.

Steve's behind the counter, and he grins when he sees Eddie come through the front door, "Hey!"

"Hey, yourself," Eddie says back, looking at the handwritten menu board. "Suggestions are welcome."

And Steve just laughs, and then produces a piece of cobbler that looks sticky and delicious.

"Sold," Eddie replies, taking the plate from him, and then nodding towards Gareth, "and whatever he wants. This is Gareth."

Gareth is looking in the glass case, paying no attention to either of them.

"So, this is the famous Eddie?" a girl who is not Robin asks, sidling up beside Steve at the counter.

"That's Eddie," Steve says with a smile, then introduces her, "This is Di."

She makes a shooing motion with her hands, "Go. Sit with him for a minute. I'll watch the counter," Di offers, pushing Steve from behind the register, and Eddie's grateful.

"Thanks, Di," Steve answers, pulling his apron off over his head, showing a strip of bare skin as it goes. His stomach is hairy and Eddie gulps, probably audibly, like he's in a cartoon.

He wants, he wants, he wants.

Steve picks up his coffee mug, and grabs a piece of cobbler for himself.

"Hey kid, head's up," Eddie says, and Gareth looks just in time to catch Eddie's wallet as Eddie tosses it to him. "Pick something and pay the nice lady."

"Yeah, yeah," Gareth says, and goes right back to looking at all his options.

Steve leads Eddie over to a table in the corner, and they sit and get to talk face-to-face, for the first time since their first afternoon here. Yeah, sure, he saw Steve last night, that was just a brief hi and bye.

It's nice to sit across from him again, and even nicer when Steve slides his hand forward, lacing their fingers together. Miraculously Gareth doesn't come over and cockblock him like the little shit that he is, instead lingering by the counter. 

Eddie looks back at Steve.

"You know, I don't really date," Steve admits, "I mean, the bakery hours keep my nightlife non-existent. And I've gotten used to that. But I really like you."

Eddie feels his cheeks heat up. Is he blushing? That's absurd, but he thinks it's probably true. He likes Steve. A lot. And he can deal with weird hours for Steve, he's damn certain. Dates at three in the afternoon? Awesome. He'll have just rolled out of bed a couple hours before that half the time anyway.

"But, I'd like to try. If you want to," Steve says, and Eddie nods.

"Yeah, I want to. I really like you, too."

Then the phone rings, and it's something Steve has to take, and Eddie glances at him one more time before he holds open the door with the jangly bell for Gareth to exit.

Steve's still looking at him, watching him go, so Eddie winks, and it makes Steve smile.

There's no plan, but Eddie knows he's gonna date the shit out of Steve Harrington.

Turns out, the whole dating with opposite schedules idea was way easier said than done. Eddie works every weekend night, all fall long, because that's the busy time. He works some weeknights, too, but those are easier to trade around for with his friends. So, weekends are definitely out, and he needs date ideas that don't mess with Steve's sleep schedule.

He's reading the paper that Wayne left on the coffee table as he sits on the couch and eats his cereal, when he sees that the local high school football team is playing next week, but that's on Friday. Duh. Friday Night Lights. Even he understands enough about football to get that that's a reference to the night they play. He may have needed three senior years to graduate, but he's not that dense. He keeps reading, and sees that the JV football team plays on Tuesday and the junior high team on Thursday. That's an idea. He doesn't really know what that means, but he knows who would.

"Hey, Wayne!" he yells, and when Wayne rounds the corner Eddie asks, "Tell me. Which is a better game to attend: JV or Junior High?"

"Game of what? Tiddlywinks? Dragons and Dragons?" Wayne prods, teasing him. Eddie damn well knows Wayne remembers what DnD is. He bought enough of those books for him in high school, it has to be seared into his old man brain. 

But Wayne glances over at him from his recliner he's just sat down in, waiting for Eddie to spill it.

Eddie lowers his voice and mumbles, "Football."

"What'd you say, I didn't hear you?" Wayne drawls, but he's grinning like he heard exactly what Eddie said.

"Shut up, old man," Eddie teases, "I'm sort of dating a guy. He likes football. Used to play. I thought it might be nice to take him to a game, and I obviously can't do a Friday night game this year because of work. But I thought Steve might like to go to one of these other games?"

"Steve, huh? This Steve have a last name?" Wayne asks, and Eddie rolls his eyes. Wayne doesn't need to try to vet this guy like he did every single person Eddie dated in high school. He's a grown man now, almost thirty. He picks better these days.

At least, he hopes he does.

"Harrington," Eddie answers, "and you're ignoring the question. JV? Junior High?" Then points his finger at the newspaper, crinkling it, "Or the local flag football team plays on Sundays. Help a guy out. Jeez."

But Wayne is just staring at him, mouth slightly open. Eddie's never seen him this shocked in his life. And Eddie did some wild shit in high school that Wayne swears made him go gray and bald.

"Yes, yes, I'm willing to go to a game. We're all shocked. Make fun. I have it coming. But close your mouth before you catch flies."

"No. Just. Steve Harrington, Ed? You, my nephew, who hates all sports sight unseen, is dating Steve Harrington? Heisman Trophy winner as a sophomore, that Steve Harrington?"

Eddie just shrugs, "I don't know about all that. He runs a bakery."

Wayne lets out a breathy laugh, "Right. He runs a bakery."

"He does," Eddie confirms. 

Wayne picks up his phone, puts on his reading glasses so Eddie knows he's serious, and finally turns the screen towards Eddie, "This your boy?"

Eddie smiles. He's younger, but yeah, that's definitely Steve, "Yep, that's Steve."

"I'll be damned, I knew he was from Indiana, but I didn't expect him to come back to our neck of the woods to run a bakery."

"You know my boyfriend, Wayne?" Eddie teases, lilting his voice, and batting his eyes.

"Anybody that followed football in the last decade knows of your boyfriend, Ed. He was gonna be a star, a franchise quarterback, for any team lucky enough to draft him."

Steve had said he wasn't sure if he was good enough to go pro, and now Eddie is doubting the validity of that, "He said he wasn't sure if he was good enough to make it pro."

Wayne laughs, "That boy would've been a first round pick. He's just being humble."

"Oh," Eddie says, "that's pretty cool. It's too bad he got hurt, then."

"It is," Wayne agrees.

"If he was as good as you say, why didn't he just go pro right out of high school?" Eddie asks, thinking this over. He's really not sure why you'd take the risk playing college football before you could make the big bucks.

"That's not how the NFL draft works. You have to be three years past graduation from high school before you're eligible. And what else are you gonna do for those three years, if not play ball at college?"

"Oh," Eddie says, then adds, "Good thing I wasn't good at football. I'd have been an old man trying to enter the draft."

Wayne laughs. It wasn't so funny when Eddie was bearing down on twenty-one and still trying to get that damn diploma, but they can laugh about it now. Water under the bridge.

Eddie then asks, "So, about the game…"

Wayne steered him towards the JV game, but told him over and over that all of the options were beneath the level of football that Steve Harrington was used to watching, or playing. 

Eddie decides to take him anyway.

Eddie buys the four dollar tickets at the gate from a mom sitting at a card table with a metal cash box in front of her, a button with her son's face pinned to her coat. He gives her a ten, and tells her to keep the change when she holds it in her hand, unmoving.

But that's just because she's staring at Steve, kind of starry-eyed. He is attractive, that's undeniable, and Eddie puffs up a little that he's the one getting to date him tonight.

Then Steve is accosted for pictures no less than seven times on the way to the stands, and Eddie wonders if he's made a mistake here. He didn't think it through, didn't understand that Steve would be known here.

Eddie escapes to the concessions stand, and when he comes back, arms full, there's a group of kids surrounding Steve. And Steve's engaged, and giving them what they want, clearly, but this isn't a good date. This seems more like he's trotted Steve out for the wolves. 

Everyone else finally clears out as kickoff happens, leaving them alone, and Eddie takes his seat next to Steve on the bleachers.

"Uh, did I fuck this up?" Eddie whispers, handing Steve a tray of nachos.

"No. No way, this is great," Steve reassures, a big smile on his face.

"I truly didn't understand that you'd be recognized here," Eddie says, "I don't know anything about sports. I'm in over my head. I just thought, well, maybe you'd like to see a game. Even if it's just kids."

"This is great, Eddie. You did great, honest," Steve says. "I'm not recognized outside of football. Don't worry. This isn't an everyday occurrence. This is a very isolated incident, because of where we are. Some of these kids probably watched me play. I'm not that old."

Eddie laughs, some of the tension draining out of his shoulders. He definitely didn't want to make Steve uncomfortable.

And if he is, he never lets on. Instead, Steve explains the game to him as it goes, and it's a slow enough pace that Eddie thinks maybe he's understanding it. The football Steve had been watching on TV in the bakery had moved so fucking fast he had no hopes of following, not even when there was an instant replay to slow it down.

Steve's never seen these kids play before, but he can read them all like open books, calling plays, calling probable results before they happen. And he's right. Nine times out of ten, he's right. 

He should probably coach football. But maybe that's too painful? Eddie's definitely not gonna bring it up. 

They leave at halftime, and Eddie's sure it's only partly because Steve has to be up in less than eight hours. 

He still thinks it went well, because Steve leans over in the van and kisses him.

Eddie suddenly feels like he can't feel his face, even as he kisses back, hand cupping Steve's face, just wanting to touch him.

Eddie likes him so goddamn much, and as Steve pulls away, Eddie feels like they are no longer struggling to make a connection. They've done it. They're getting there.

Over the next few weeks, they have half-dozen more half-dates. Eddie catches the first quarter of a college football game, Steve's alma mater, on the television at the bakery with him before having to head to the maze for the night.

A few days later they grab fast food in Steve's car, and Eddie's definitely trying hard not to make a mess. Steve's car is nice, and Eddie's only used to his shitty van.

They carve out an hour to just lay in Steve's bed, kissing and touching, and eventually fucking before they need to part ways again.

Eddie wonders if they'll ever get to actually sleep in the same bed with shifts this ass-backwards from each other.

Spooky season comes and goes, and Eddie's back looking for some kind of other temporary work. He's complaining to Steve that nobody is hiring, even when they say they're hiring.

"Come work at the bakery," Steve says, "then maybe we'll finally get to see each other for longer than an hour at a time."

Eddie starts to say no, starts to deflect in a knee-jerk way, but then decides he'd really like to do that, "Really?"

"Really," Steve confirms. 

"I don't know how to bake, you know that," Eddie teases.

"You're not coming there to bake. Please, no. But you could run the register. Right?"

And Eddie thinks he'd like to do just that, so he nods and nods.

So, they work together, and sometimes go home with each other after. Both of them dozing on the couch while Wayne watches football, or cuddling up at Steve's place while Robin whines about it being her turn to cook dinner.

And Eddie ends up loving Robin, because working with her at the bakery might be almost as fun as it is working with Steve. She's not there all the time, but when she is, they run the front together, while Steve and Di have the back, and it's the least work feeling work he's ever done.

She's funny, and snarky, and loves Steve so much Eddie can feel it rolling off of her in waves. She kept him from getting hurt further. She made sure he'd be okay, even if Eddie's sure Steve felt anything but at the time.

He talks up Steve's baked goods, upselling easily, turning a half-dozen box into a full dozen more often than not. Eventually he sneaks around while Steve isn't looking, and hangs his own picture on the wall, labeled underneath as Employee of the Month, as a joke.

When Steve finally notices it, it stays. Eddie's part of the place, now. And he couldn't be happier about that. Harrington's is fun, and relaxed, and he's honestly never gotten this invested in a job before. He wants it to succeed, because he wants Steve, and the rest of his friends, to succeed. And yeah, he's sure Steve has a lot to do with that, but still, the fact that he's enjoying it is a bonus he hadn't foreseen coming.

He helps clean up every afternoon, so they can get out of there faster, together. Today, with the cold winter air blowing, snow flurries are blustering around, stinging his face as they hit. So, he hugs Steve from behind as he locks the back door in the alley where they park, hiding his face in Steve's coat.

"Hello to you, too," Steve flirts, and Eddie smirks as soon as he realizes this is gonna be a short afternoon, because when they get home, they are definitely going straight to bed. 

And they do just that. It's cold outside, but the warm winter sunlight is pouring through the windows, made brighter by the snow on the ground, and Eddie's in love.

Steve looks fucking gorgeous, the light hitting him that way, letting that glow he always has about him shine through from the inside out.

Eddie runs his fingers over his body, his athletic frame that sees no playing time, anymore. He runs to keep in shape, but Eddie thinks he'd run too if he had that kind of albatross slung around his neck. If he'd lost the thing he loved most, the thing he'd hung his whole hat on.

If he'd lost possible rings and millions of dollars.

Steve's almost twenty-nine. He'd be hitting his peak, his best years of play.

But Steve's happy. He's not a bitter guy. He loves his bakery, and he loves his friends and-

"What's," Steve breathes out, easing up on his pace, "what's with the face?"

"I love you," Eddie blurts out.

Steve smiles, so fucking wide it feels like it cracks open Eddie's chest, "Well, don't look so sad about it then."

And Eddie laughs, reaching up to grasp Steve's hips, helping him regain his momentum. The spiral he was headed down on Steve's behalf, broken.

Steve doesn't want Eddie dwelling on the past. Especially if he doesn't do it himself. There are no pity parties happening in Steve Harrington's orbit.

"I love you, too. Now fuck me like you're not gonna cry about it."

Eddie huffs out a laugh, so fucking charmed and delighted by this man that he loves. He'll fuck him all right. 

"Hold on then, big boy," Eddie teases, and thrusts upwards, carrying the weight of Steve with him off the bed.

Maybe instead, they'll just hit their primes together.

Eddie starts to become a morning person against his will as the months wear on, and Steve will have to pay for that, eventually. But not today.

No, today he's more than fine with going to bed at eight-thirty, dicking down his boyfriend, then afterwards both of them will be sound asleep by nine. 

Gareth is hanging around the bakery more and more, and before Eddie realizes it, Steve and Di have taught Gareth how to bake. And he's somehow good at it. Gareth eventually weasels his way into a full-time job, too. Which gets Eddie's wheels turning. Maybe by next fall, Eddie can surprise Steve with tickets to an NFL game to watch his friend play, because together they are slowly building up enough of a staff to run the store in their absence.

It doesn't have to just be Steve anymore. It can be all of them.

Next fall, Eddie thinks.

And he smiles.

He's planning ahead, now. Planning for a future, one that he intends to share with Steve.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddie-spooktober to follow along with the fun! 🍎

[rubyvhs]

remedy (i) — sam winchester

series masterlist

summary: you meet jessica’s friend group that she’s talked so much about and one person who’s she’s never talked about — tags: underage!reader, 22 year old!sam, med student!reader, smoking, cursing.

You’re a lot of things but weak isn’t one of them. Okay maybe just a little. You’re only slightly weak when it comes to Jess’s pout, her ‘please, c’mon’ and those green eyes— okay so only a little corruptible, but it means nothing.

It means nothing that you’re now standing alone at a party where you hardly know anyone and you feel like sleeping outside on the open road might be more entertaining. Not just any party too— one of the biggest parties, Lily Carson’s birthday. 

Basically anyone who looked her way was invited, birthday presents were plethora but not required and you wish you could say that she’s a bitch to everyone, but really, she’s one of the nicest people you’ve ever met. Which is why you started gaping at Jess when she suggested (begged) for you both to go. You don’t know Lily personally but she’s popular, obviously, and she invited Jess so why shouldn’t you come?

“C’mon, girl,” Jess starts as she comes back from a round of beer pong, “you can’t stay rooted in the same place the whole time, that’s not why I made you come.” 

Why she brought you at all was the question. What were you doing here other than being awkward? You haven’t even seen Lily the whole night and she’s the birthday girl. Jess is way more of a party girl than you are, she’ll attend each one and somehow keep her grades up but it isn’t even that. You don’t hate coming, you just don’t prefer it. Too many people more often than not cause overstimulation, crying and too many emotions. You’d rather steer clear.

“I didn’t want to come.”

She rolls her eyes. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to my friends.” You knew all her friends, who would be new? Oh, probably people who aren’t majoring in med school. You met Jessica at lunch in your first year, she asked if you had company, you shook your head, she sat down, and the rest is history. 

You had plenty of friends from your major but none from outside so someone from law was quite thrilling since you’re not usually one to make friends easily unless you connect through school first. 

But throughout the past two years you’ve known her she’d usually hang out with your friends, she knew them all anyways, than you would go see hers. Now it’s different though, you don’t know of many people in your class that would go to a party on a Tuesday night so you’re sure you don’t know anyone here— well, until now.

Jess drags you to a different room. Fifteen, if not more, people are sitting in a circle— or something resembling it. Some of them on the floor, the couch, the tables with the booze. “Guys, here she is!” She introduces you with a big smile and most of them look up to wave at you. 

You want to say what catches your attention are the cute guys (there’s quite a lot) but it’s how freaking pretty these girls look. Like Jess. God, everytime you decide to leave your house your insecurities grow double their size. 

She starts pointing at her friends for you, “This is Emmy, Mary, Gen—” And it’s a damn long list. Longer than it should be, but you try to keep the ones you care about in the back of your head: Gen, Brady, Stella. No one really caught your attention the way those three have, they look like they’re more your style, laid back, on their phones, talking to Jess like they’re closer to her than the rest of the group. 

You sit between Gen and Jess on the beige couch, Brady and his girlfriend (?) at the foot of it, his hand around her shoulders. “Spin the bottle?” Someone from somewhere in the room says and you sigh. Yeah, this is why you don’t go to parties. The alcohol (which you don’t drink), the games (that you don’t play) and the making out everywhere. 

You grew up pretty reserved before you came to Stanford so you haven’t even had your first kiss, you haven’t smelled alcohol and you most definitely haven’t seen parties this big. 

“Brady?” Someone from the doorway shouts which makes most of us look up at— this person. Who isn’t real. I’m imagining him. “Hey, Jess, Gen,” he acknowledges both people I’m sitting between. Does that mean he’s real? No, no, just a figment of my imagination. He says my name next. A small nod. 

Kill me. Kill me now. How does he know who you am? You want to smile and greet him back but you feel like your body is just gone. Thankfully, he leaves your direct vision after slapping Brady’s shoulder, sitting opposite you on the couch next to a couple on another one. You look over at Jess with wide eyes.

“What just happened?”

“I should be asking,” she sighs, “you see one cute guy and turn mute.” Another thing about reserved upbringings? Never even had a boyfriend. Or seen cute guys.

“Cute?” You exhilarate aggressively, “Jess I would kill myself if I was him. He’s too beautiful for other people to see.” Her eyes widen and she leans forward. You’re already talking into each other’s ear at this point since everyone abandoned the ‘spin the bottle comment’ ever since this guy came in. “What’s his name?”

“I literally just said it when he said hi to you, which by the way, you’re so freaking rude! You didn’t even nod when I introduced you.”

“His name, whore.”

“Sam, slut.” You nod once and lean your back completely against the couch. You try so so hard not to look at him, he’s right in front of you at this angle, if you could just— he’s looking at you. In you. 

He smiles when you hold eye contact and you, like the dumb bitch Jess argues you are, look away quickly. Gen tells some stupid story about something that doesn’t matter to you no matter how hard you try but she’s so cute that you try your best to focus. His green eyes. Were they green? Not as green as Jess’s but they were green under this low light. His Long hair. Those shoulders.

Someone (the same guys who said ‘spin the bottle’?) suggests that you dip and almost everyone in the room agrees. You leave the party with about nine people, which, woah, too many human beings in one place. You see Lily on the way out, wish her a happy birthday, then run back to the group who’s getting two cars. 

You ubered here, not really sure what to expect or if you would be able to park somewhere safe, so you look at Jess with a frown. “What’s happening?”

“We’re going to McDonald’s. You wanna get in Sam’s or in Brady’s car?” 

“Neither, I could uber.” And even as you say it you feel a presence behind you, hovering. Jess is looking at him, but you’re sure if you look anywhere near his face you won’t be able to process the words out of his mouth.

“C’mon,” he draws out your name a little and you’re forced to look up when he stands next to the both of you, getting a cloud of his perfect cologne, “it’s safer this way, since we’re all together. Jess is coming with me, you should too.”

You nod once. Like before, nothing is going on in your head. God, screw this. How can you be so bad at talking to human beings when you're supposed to treat them for a living? 

“By the way, I haven’t seen you around, you’re law?”

You shake your head, taking a small step back that’s barely noticeable but allows you to breathe a little better. His eyes are brown and green. Is that possible? 

“Med. you’re pre-law?” He nods with a smile, putting a hand on Jess’s shoulder to drag her to the car and you follow along.

It isn’t even a tight fit since unlike half of the student population, Sam drives an SUV. You’re in the back with Jess and Gen, some guy who’s name you forgot is with Sam. He’s about to plug his phone in when Jess snatches it from him, “Nuh-uh, Sammy. You promised I can have it next time.” Next time? How many times has Jess been in Sam’s car? Are they together? No, can’t be, you two were just talking about him. 

But she did roll her eyes. Is it because they’re together? “Jess, I swear if I hear any Taylor Swift—”

Jess? And Taylor swift? What kind of joke is that?

“Shut up and drive, Sammy, nearest Mac is still ten minutes away.” But she says it like she’s glad. You and Gen look over her shoulder to choose songs with her, you decide on casual playlists everyone will like and both girls are calm enough to carpool all the way, meanwhile you’re texting your little sister that you’re out with friends so she can know where you are.

Okay, so maybe you listen to murder mystery podcasts too much— sue you for wanting to stay safe. You’ve occasionally gone out where boys were involved and so getting in their car was inevitable but most were nice enough to get into your own if you asked, just helped calm you down way more if you’re the one driving. 

You arrive and everyone’s out of the car, you’re the last one out when you notice Sam's not moving. The car’s parked, isn’t he coming inside?

You can’t believe you’re doing this. You’re speaking to him. “Sam, you coming?”

He looks back at you with that smile of his, that seemingly never leaves his face. “Yeah, just—” and he seems a little hesitant before he opens his armrest. This is it. You pissed off the wrong serial killer who looks nothing above twenty two. 

He takes out a pack of cigarettes and you let out a breath of relief. “I don’t like encouraging them and all that. I’ll finish up quickly and come inside.” You agree but don’t make a move out of the car, even if you do look away from him. “Do you? Smoke?” You nod a little but shrug right after so you confuse him more than yourself. 

You haven’t in a while, a few months, maybe. They’re expensive and money’s tight more often than not. Your parents send over as much as they can, which means you’re doing better than most of the people in school, but you try to be responsible so you’d only do it if someone offers one. A disposable, a cigarette, whatever they had.

“Come up.” It makes a smile stretch on your face as you get out of the car to get in the passenger's seat. “Pull it back. The seat.” You do and it puts you in a way more comfortable position. 

“Chad was just makin’ sure Gen was comfortable,” because she was sitting behind him, “how come I’ve never seen you with Jess before?”

“Oh, we don’t— or I don’t go out often. I don't go to parties and stuff like that ‘cause it’s,” God curse whoever invented oversharing, “yeah, anyways, I don’t do parties. I came ‘cause Jess promised brunch tomorrow if I come.”

“Brunch?” He asks with a small laugh, like it’s a ridiculous offer. 

You shrug, watch him take a cigarette out of the pack and pats himself down for a lighter then— “oh shit.”

Life is in your favor today because you’re grinning as you take out your own lighter. You usually keep it on you for aesthetic purposes, but times like these, they’re really handy. “Lighter?”

He looks over and nods, puts the cigarette between his teeth, his eyes meeting yours intensely. You could’ve lighted it up while it was between his fingers, you’re in the car, there’s no wind. But that doesn’t seem to be his point of view because he leans in and you do too, lining the lighter up, checking hastily so you can get back to staring into those oh so gorgeous eyes. With so many colors. 

The cigarette lights and he takes a pornaghraphic drag, arching his back a little to get comfortable and it almost makes you pass out. He repeats his earlier ridicule.

“Yeah, brunch,” You shrug a little, moving to face him more. You notice his phone is connected and playing music though it’s very low, “She’s paying so it’s basically a free meal for the week.” He chuckles through another drag and shakes his head.

“That’s true.” He offers the cigarette and you take a beat. Okay maybe a little more because he checks in, “It’s blueberry.” And it’s a ridiculous thing to say, he notices and shrugs. “Jess was the  one who bought it for me, my birthday was a week ago.”

“Oh, happy birthday, then.” He acknowledges your words as you take the cigarette between your own fingers to bring to your lips. You’ve shared smoking with other people, a whole car of people smoking the same thing— nothing new— but just the two of you? Sitting in the car with the low music… something is different. “How are exams— LSAT mocks are soon, right?” And if it’s the dumbest thing you could’ve said, he doesn’t mention it.

“Yeah, next week. They’re just mocks but I think they’re counting them as the finals.” You nod, not really understanding. Med school was way different than… this. Way way different. But you tried to be mindful of all the majors just so you could be able to open conversations with other people.

“That’s nice, must be stressful.” You wish you could say you’re usually better at conversations with strangers but unfortunately you’ve always found comfort in speaking about school whenever you don’t know the person in front of you. Really really lame when you’re talking to a guy you like.

You hand the cigarette back, “Shouldn’t we go back inside?” You ask quickly, wanting to leave.

He takes a breath, “I— uh, I gotta finish this first.”

“Why?”

“Emmy’s trying to quit. ‘S why she rode with Brady, he doesn’t smoke and she’s having a hard time.” Oh. That’s generous.

“You’re close with Emmy?” You take a beat before asking the real question that’s been on your mind, “and jess?”

He taps the cigarette out the window then look over at you with a small line between his brows. Just as you were about to backtrack. Not your business, you’re sorry, anything— “Not really. But I’ve known everyone since freshmen year and they're my friends so I try to be considerate. And I think what Emmy’s doing is good.”

For a second you think that’s that and are about to tell him that’s nice, maybe compliment him and then run out of the car but he smiles a little then adds, “Me and Jess are just friends too. Dated in my sophomore year for a few months, that’s it.” 

Oh. That’s good to know, you suppose. Not that it matters or whatever. He hands you the cigarette again and you steal at his eyes, trained on yours, before you take it from between his fingers, your hand slipping against his. You mutter a slow apology. He responds with a warm smile. “What about you? Boyfriend?”

That’s the question of the year. “No, no boyfriend.”

“And this group?” He nods over to the Mac you’re parked in front of. “You know any of them?”

“Except Jess, no. Just met everyone today, a lot of people.”

“So most of the people you know are from Med?” You nod. “You know Lana?” 

“Yeah, do you?” 

“Yeah, Lana’s an old friend, she got me into Stanford,” that earns a frown from you and he explains further, “helped me choose where I wanted to go since I didn’t have lots of options. I needed to get somewhere on a full scholarship. Said Stanford offers the most scholarships so I applied.”

“Woah, you’re here on a full scholarship? Really?” You see his proud nod, and it’s too damn cute. “That’s incredible, Sam.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Your phone pings and you thank god because opening a new conversation would be the end of you. You want to talk with him, and he obviously doesn’t mind your company if he’s opening topics but— it’s scary. And awkward. Though the latter is because of you. 

You see a text from Jess asking where you are, another from your sister to ask who you’re with, and a last one from one of the PA’s for your anatomy class. 

“You okay?” You nod quickly and open the one from your PA to make sure nothing was wrong but— hey, give me a call when you’re free, we need to discuss your last exam.

“Fucking anatomy.” You groan, shutting your phone off. You look up and notice Sam’s raised eyebrow. “What?”

“Anatomy 108?”

“Yeah?” In Med you take the same course four times throughout the school year. The first time you take it it’s called 101, then 102, then 104 and 108. It’s something you wouldn’t know unless you take Med or are interested enough to ask because it’s hard to explain in detail. 

“You’re— you’re taking anatomy? You’re a sophomore?” Oh. Oh shit. Yeah you’re a sophomore, shit shit. 

You can’t lie here, one, because he’d know, two, because you only take anatomy in your second and last year, and you damn well don’t look like you’re in your last. “That makes you, what, eighteen?”

God you wish, at least it wouldn’t kill you. You quickly hand him his cigarette before you break the news, “I’m seventeen.” His face drops and he sits up a little straighter, no longer as playful as he was before. 

So what if Sam’s possibly twenty-two? You’re only a few years younger, and he’s so gorgeous it wouldn’t really be that wrong to do something. Couldn’t you have pretended to be eighteen? Who said honesty is the best policy? Fuck them, man.

“Sam?” You ask when he’s been quiet for too long, even if only a couple of seconds that the music fills. “You okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” He shuts the car’s engine off and raises the windows, “let’s go,” once you’re out of the car he throws his cigarette onto the ground and takes out a packet of gum, then hands you one too. You take it with a smile.

You spot everyone pretty quickly, Gen, Jess and Emmy, the only girls you remember, are sitting on a booth so you head there and the whole way you’re getting looks from jess that you try to ignore. 

You wish it could be like that. And maybe it would’ve been. Maybe he would’ve kissed you or asked for your number or something if you’d kept quiet. 

part two; and all my life, I’ve been wanting this forever.

title from: static by alice shone.

main masterlist

if u wanna be tagged comment + hope u enjoyed!

[sideysvault]

*ੈ✩‧₊ Mundane Intervention *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Pairing: Michael Gavey x fem!reader

wc: 1,200k

Tags: [sfw] Mature themes, strong language, one use of the r slur, bullying, tension and a fluffy ending.

Read part two. [C. Soon]

────────

The Cathedral City looked as solemn as usual. The yellow stones shined in contrast against the pale green of the grass. Its baroque interior inspired respect in you, a bubbling sensation of awe. Even still, after all this time. The conversation your friends were having felt borderline sacrilegious. And it did scandalize you, to say the least. But then again, rich people’s brains seemed to be wired differently, that was another thing that you still couldn’t get used to. But it was the only group that had taken you in so far. The library engulfed the group, and the lame conversation that was being held was cushioned and absorbed by the old books.

“He’s like, a total retard”

Your body instinctively tenses upon hearing the term. The bad taste left from your childhood flooded every pore on your skin. You tried to concentrate on something else.

The weather constantly changed to sunny intervals by lunchtime. But you were sure that it would rain tonight. You could feel the humidity in the air, and the tense breeze.

“A mate of mine told me he goes around screaming at people to ask him sums”

A snort came out of someone’s mouth.

“What a pathetic party favor”

They were getting increasingly louder, and they seemed to pay no mind to the scattered students that surrounded us, trying to study, getting annoyed. In an effort to calm things down, you quietly ask “Who are you talking about?”

But you already had a fairly decent idea of who they were mocking.

“That Michael guy”

You frown and nod dismissively. Suddenly, your clothes were all the wrong fabric, with all the wrong texture. Shifting in your seat, trying to breathe in and out, in and out. People have called you those names your entire life, especially when you were younger. Just because you were starting to get the hang of social interaction at college, starting to be pretty, knowing how to take care of yourself, that did not erase everything that had happened to you.

You had only seen Michael twice before. He was quite handsome, and sure, he seemed weird. But as far as you knew, he had no friends, no money, and Oliver had ditched him for Felix a long time ago. That made you more similar to him than to anyone sitting across from you.

Still fearing being alienated and left alone and far away from home, even if it meant being away from vapid people who were there by pure chance and lineage, a strange comment that should’ve been a legitimate defense left your mouth

“Actually, I think he’s super hot.”

Your comment was the match that lit up the entire conversation again. A loud laughter came out in sync.

“Do you have some kind of freak fetish or something?”

Sighing and laughing along, you decided to dismissively collect your defeat and let the situation go. Embarrassed, and with your cheek burning. What else could you do?

────────

You were right. The grass felt humid, and the dirt was rich and aromatic. You quickly stumbled your way into the house, not wanting to ruin the pretty scenery with your puke. Desperation pounded your heart, and all you needed was a break. Somewhere to puke and rest for a while. Things went south at some point in the night. The evening turned from excitement for being invited to feel stupid for letting yourself get wrapped around stupid games and ending up drunk, and it had ended with you feeling irreparably lonely, because you really had no one to hold your hair while you got better, no one to talk and share a moment in the midst of all the rapid colored madness of Halloween.

You missed your small town, you missed your old friends, you missed being at home, at peace.

An open door finally turned to be a bathroom, and without thought, you ran to open the lit of the toilet and sober up.

“I was here before”

It startled you. That voice. Angry and petty, and completely unaware that you obviously needed to use the restroom with urgency. You turned to the person, who was hiding behind the curtain of the bathtub. You opened them, reinvigorated and with a new clear head. What the actual fuck? It was Michael.

He was wearing an awkwardly thick sweater, crimson red and a yellow collar. Michael was wearing his glasses, and when he saw you standing up before him, his eyes immediately trailed down towards your exposed breasts, your stomach, and your legs. You frowned. It was a party, and now he was making you feel conscious for choosing an appropriately revealing outfit. It wasn’t your fault if he was dressed like he was on his way to attend a lecture.

“Jesus, you really are a fucking asshole aren’t you?”

A smirk adorned his face, as he spat back “But you are into that, right? Freaks?”

Your heart dropped. He had heard the conversation at the library. You suddenly did not feel so confrontational. Embarrassed and slightly annoyed, you dropped your back against the wall and slowly sat on the floor.

“What are you doing here anyway?”

His body crisped, and his cocky was nowhere to be found. “It’s not like it was invite only”

Michael was being pathetically defensive about the topic, while you were only trying to make small talk. But you let it pass, because after what he had heard, he clearly thought you were making fun of him. As if you’d police who gets inside a party on a house whose host you didn’t even know.

“That’s not what I meant. Sorry.”

The awkward silence continued. And the angry look on his face did not disappear with your attempts to make amends. You tried again.

“You are not having fun?”

He slowly shakes his head no and lowers his gaze. Something had clearly happened to this guy. And by the way everyone talked about him, you weren’t surprised.

“Yeah, me neither”

Michael seems to relax a bit, finally dropping the defense. He quickly gets up from the bathtub and walks towards the sink.

“Clean your mouth. Or it’ll stink”.

You laugh at his abruptness, but he was right. You do as he says, and when you lower down to drink some water from the sink, he shakily takes your hair for you to not get it wet. This consideration makes your heart drop yet again, because that was exactly what you needed, some nice gesture, and it had surprisingly come from him, even after you did not have the courage of the wit to defend him. A small smile lights up your face and while you turn to face him, you make sure to leave a quick kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, I needed that”

The brownish red you were wearing stained his face, which seemed to match with the new brightness of his gaze, and the pink blush that marked his face.

“I really wasn’t making fun of you back there. I meant what I say”.

You gave him your name, and he finally properly introduced himself to you. You both smiled at one another. For the first time since you’d been together in the bathroom, he seemed truly comfortable. You weren’t one of those vapid cunts after all. And he wasn’t one either. 

────────

[zorrasucia]

"Just sleeping and fucking all day," I AM DEAD!!! and i revived just to BEG you to expand on this please i just love them so much 😭

I'm so glad you liked it, Anon! I came up with something but I'm like 90% sure it's not what you were asking for - I aimed to write more smut and it turned into saccharine fluff somehow. I apologize. Rest assured that the next update for this fic is business as usual, very spicy and contains Carmy finally ******* ****** :)

Teach Me Tonight - Deleted Scene 2.0

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] Deleted Scene: [Part 8]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Mature (1k)

Tags: Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Smut, Virgin!Carmy, Fluff, Miscommunication, Domesticity

"Hey, baby," Carmy mumbled with a smile, rolling over in bed and looking at you with sleepy eyes.

You had padded into the room and leaned over to kiss his neck, waking him up from his third nap of the day. In between, you had fucked - slow and loving, then quick and hard, then a mix of both. You felt tired in the best way - and still somehow you wanted him. But you could wait.

"Shhh. I'm not here for another round," you soothed, moving a lock of hair out of his face. "Got us some pizza," you settled across from him, laying the box between you.

He sat up and ogled you shamelessly. You were wearing jeans and one of his shirts, your nipples showing through the white fabric.

"You're gonna be the death of me," he shook his head and focused on the slice of pizza you handed him instead.

"I mean," you gestured at him, his naked torso and satisfied smirk, "likewise, Carm."

You shared a hungry look while taking a bite of pepperoni. He broke first, looking up at the ceiling, away from you.

"How's it feel?" he asked.

"Mmm?" you nudged his leg with your foot.

"You come like two, three times when I can only do one and be just useless..." he blushed, curiosity tinting his skin. "I was just wondering what that was like, if all women were like that."

You smiled. Sometimes you forgot that he was a virgin before you.

"A lot of women can, uh, come multiple times," you explained. "If it's done properly, if you work for it," you cleared your throat. "Some women can't come at all."

"That sounds, uh-" Carmy struggled.

"Miserable?" you supplied and he nodded. "It can be. But sex isn't always about coming, you know? It's about being close and getting to know each other."

Carmy hummed pensively.

Just now, between one round and the next you had fallen asleep still intertwined, spent, his arms around your waist and his softening cock inside you. It was nice, to be so close with zero expectations of it going anywhere.

"What've you learned about me? With sex, I mean," he asked, his blue eyes wide.

"That you're giving, uh, determined, a fast learner," you pondered for a minute while you chewed. "A bit of a control freak but we knew that from before," he chuckled. "And you think you don't deserve good shit, even though you do."

"Pretty spot on," he let out a shaky breath.

You caressed his calf over the bedsheets. It felt strange to be talking about this but it had been a fucking weird day, and discussing orgasms with Carmy while eating pizza fit right in.

"You're a great fuck, Carm," you said softly. "And that takes patience and care and- I love that you want to make me feel good. I do," his gaze was downward and you reached for his hand. "I just don't want you to think you need to be perfect for me here too, you know? There's no pressure."

Carmy nodded and his eyes met yours, he gave you a soft smile.

"Thanks," he brushed your knuckles with his thumb. Then his smile turned mischievous. "Just to be sure, you do like coming though?" he looked for confirmation, head tilted.

"Yeah," you laughed. "Obviously, yeah," you poked at his side and reached for another slice of pizza. "I'm just saying there's no pressure, okay?"

"Okay," he took a big bite of crust. "You didn't answer my question from before," he prompted, raising his eyebrows. "How does it feel?"

"Uh. Well, you don't know how good it's going to be until you're coming. Sometimes it slows down, becomes softer. Or you get halfway through the next and get stuck there," you shrugged. "Sometimes it builds up, becomes more intense each time-"

"Like the last one?" he asked.

You blushed - the memory of him on top of you, his chain dangling near your mouth, his hands holding your wrists above your head, taking up all your thoughts. He had fucked you through your first orgasm until you saw stars and your moans turned into cries of pleasure.

"Exactly like that," you replied bashfully like it wasn't you that had begged him to keep going and fuck you harder.

"How many have you done?" Carmy asked after a while.

"Huh?"

"How many times you've come in a row?" he repeated, that calculating look back on his face. "What's the max?"

"I don't know, five?" you laughed nervously. "I think you're getting the wrong message from this, Carm."

"No, I know," he shook his head. "I was guessing we could start with all that 'no pressure' thing tomorrow. And I think I still have one more round left in me today, so..."

"What the fuck, Carm?" you giggled.

You covered your face with your hands, hiding how flustered you were.

"I'm serious," he said, amusement still showing in his tone. You finally uncovered your face and looked at him. He was smiling but he wasn't joking. "I don't know how to be calm," he explained. "I don't know how to fucking relax and be normal. I never have. Being with you- That's the closest I've come to that," he said softly. You cupped his face tenderly. "But sometimes it gets so crazy that the only thing I know I can do well is make you feel good. That's why I can be a control freak and competitive and insane..."

You shushed him.

"You're fine, baby," you caressed Carmy's shoulders, scooting closer to him. "I love that you're all those things. I just- You push yourself to the limit. You can hurt yourself trying to make everything perfect," your thumb traced the edge of the dark circles around his eyes - all from early mornings and late nights at The Bear. "I don't want to be that for you - another weight, another thing that needs to be perfect."

"You're not," he whispered. "You've never been that, okay?"

"Okay," you sighed and surged forward to kiss him, his face between your palms.

Even after the kiss was over you stayed there, your forehead on his, and your noses touching.

"So," you said after a while, "how about we finish this," you pointed at the pizza, "and watch a movie?"

You had learned that watching a movie with Carmy was shorthand for a nap on the couch since he was always so fucking tired.

He chuckled against your mouth.

"I think I can manage that," he replied, guiding you by the hand to the living room.

~

[Part 8]

~

@th3h0nkz @faephoria @wadupppp

[balkanradfem]

I know I just made a serious post and I'm about to post something silly but stay with me here. I've had an experience that was deeply unsettling and horrifying to me and my mental health, and now you have to hear about it.

So I was reading fanfiction, and you can judge me, it's fine, I don't feel guilty for my little thought crimes, but it was a m/m fanfiction of two fictional blorbos I will not name in this instance. And this fanfiction was absolutely beautifully written, the prose had me in the first sentence; it was sophisticated, detailed, words so unusual and interesting I had to consult a dictionary. It started off wonderfully too, my characters were bantering, they were having issues, then had to work together and be civil to each other, it's what puts a smile on my face.

However, one of these characters had been changed in the fanfiction, in a way that felt unsettling to me. First the author changed his hair to long – and it happens sometimes, I'm okay with it, why not, make him look like an elf. Then his outfits were color-coordinated, and described in detail (it was like reading my immortal). Then he started wearing his hair in a long braid, which is normal, but, then he changed it to two braids, which I felt, was taking it too far, like this would happen only if he lost a bet and was being made fun of. Then he lost all of his desire for banter and started acting very dainty and vulnerable. I was having a bad feeling about it, but I still hoped it would get better. Maybe they would still fight.

The fanfiction had some very detailed and unusual descriptions of food, and it was food I've never heard about, red onion marmelade? I had to stop reading to consider if that was real. The food was a big issue and every meal had several courses and multiple fancy deserts and we were getting information about ingredients and freshness level. Then the characters started a discussion about the food, and the character I'm describing understood in detail how food is made, from what ingredients, in what manner, and I've felt suspicious about that, how would he know about cooking. Unreasonable.

I've still been hanging onto hope until finally, I got to the part where this character was in the hospital, and here I found out that the author erased all of the scars on his body. Not only that, but the character was obsessed with having skin free of blemishes and flaws and from what I was seeing, probably had a skin care routine. This was deeply unsettling because the scars have been vital to the plot, a proof of what had happened to him, and to just erase all this to make him blemish free? There was no hope. I knew it then for sure. I understood what was happening. They had turned him into a tradwife.

The outfits, the braids, the blemish-free skin, the extensive cooking knowledge, the lack of banter, the dainty behaviour... they did that to a fanfiction character. A male character. Nobody is freaking safe. The trend is so strong it bled into my emotional-support fanfiction. I am stripped of one thing that usually comforts me, two fictional males having a female-written relationship.

And the other character, who was supposed to be pursuing him, was written like a sexual predator. Consistently turned on by all of the tradwife elements and pretty much only by that. I generally love this character but in this fanfic I hoped someone would kill him. It was disgusting and disturbing. By the time the characters got to intimacy I was grossed out and skipped it entirely because I was about to throw up.

This is a common issue for me, a big bulk of fanfiction has already been ruined by rape fantasies, by bdsm, ddlg, fetishes, pedophilia, power imbalances, and all other influences of patriarchal society but I can usually FILTER THOSE OUT. Nobody will tag a fic 'tradwife' after they do this to a character. I've never seen a fic ruined in this particular way before.

This is mormon church's fault. They did this to me. They need to be taken down for this bs. This is taking it too far. Give me my adorable fanfictions back.

[dreamwatch]

Hello, I've Waited Here For You

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #18 - Prompt: Freak | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: period typical attitudes to women, period typical homophobia, internalised fat shaming, period typical sexism, sexist language | POV: Matt (Freak) | Pairing: Steddie, Matt/OC | Tags: Falling in love, CC is a family, secret relationship

I hope this makes up for yesterday.

Matt has always liked girls. Sadly, girls didn’t hold him in the same high regard.

He’s not an idiot. Yes, they were freaks in high school, no one liked them, boo hoo, but even then he was the odd one out. Because Jeff was seeing that irritating mathlete for a while there, Gareth went on a couple of dates with Samantha-what’s-her-face, and Eddie had actual women hanging off him at The Hideout, though he always seemed pissy about it. Fuck, even Henderson and Wheeler had girlfriends, though they don’t live in Indiana.

Actually, yeah, that’s probably bullshit.

And Matt? Nothing. If he looks at a girl he gets a curled lip and a side eye for his troubles. Because no one wants the fat dude. So he doesn’t talk about girls, and the boys don’t ask. It’s a pleasant status quo.

When they move to LA and start playing proper gigs in proper venues, suddenly girls are interested. But there’s a hierarchy.

The really pretty ones attach themselves like limpets to Eddie and Jeff. The shy ones hang around trying to catch Gareth’s eye. And then the bored friends who struck out with everyone else will rock up to Matt like they’re doing him a favour. It really fucks him off. But he’s a nineteen-year-old virgin and it’s slim pickings.

So he leans into it.

He doesn’t exactly sleep around, but if the opportunity presents then he’s not saying no. Girls come to a gig, they queue up for their spoils, the guys do whatever it is they do, and Matt gives some bored hanger-on a good time. 

But he rallies, chin up, he’s going to be a rockstar, women are going to be pounding down his hotel room door, and he’s going to be swimming in pussy. Really bored, would-rather-be-washing-their-hair pussy.

Jeff moves in with his new girlfriend, a sweet student named Melody. She’s going to leave him when she realises he doesn’t understand the concept of putting the toilet seat down.

Gareth moves his girlfriend in to make up the rent. It’s a fucking disaster, and they all fight constantly. In the end, they all go their separate ways: Gareth and the girlfriend in one direction, Eddie and Matt in another.

The new place is ok. Eddie is weird when it comes to girls. He lets them paw at him a little before he gets antsy, like an overstimulated cat. Like he wants it but doesn’t at the same time. So the apartment is girl-free, everyone goes to bed early, and by the way, did he mention he was going to be a rockstar?

Another backstage, another endless stream of girls pawing over all the bands, and another night of Matt nursing a beer and being ignored.

He’s thinking of leaving when he sees her.

She’s sitting in a dark corner on her own, black leather jacket, ripped black jeans, and long hair that looks dark pink under the lighting. He wants to find out what colour it really is. She glances at him occasionally, before looking away as if she’s trying not to get caught.

He’s never done this. Never approached a girl. He’s always left it to them to come to him. But she’s beautiful, and they’re only in town this one night.

“Uh, are you with anyone?”

She nods. “Yeah, um, Sandy. She’s over there with Eddie.” 

Sure enough, Eddie’s looking exasperated while Sandy practically climbs in his lap. Matt laughs. 

“She won’t be long, trust me. What’s your name?”

“Lily.”

“I’m—“

“Matt.” She smiles, shyly. “I know who you are.”

Damn. 

“Matty! Hurry the fuck up!”

“I’m trying!! This fucking—“ he scrabbles at the bow tie and yanks it off for the fifth time. Fucking thing is ruined. 

Eddie slaps his hands out of the way. “Let me look.” He scowls. “Jesus— why did we think we could do this? We wear fucking t-shirts for a living for Christ’s sake.”

There’s a knock on the door before Steve Harrington pokes his head inside the room.

“Hey, sorry, but the bride-to-be just arrived.”

“Oh fuck.” Matt can feel his insides flopping around like they’re looking for the exit. Why is he doing this, why is she doing this? She’s so beautiful and she could have anyone but—

“Hey! No zoning out, we don’t have time!” snaps Eddie. He glances at Steve. “Do you know how to tie these things?”

“Oh yeah, sure.”

He can’t figure his life out at all. In eight years he’s gone from school freak to minor rock star, he’s marrying a beautiful girl, and to top it all off, Steve Harrington’s tying his bow tie. Is he high?

“There ya go, you look awesome man.” Steve claps him on the arm. “I’ll see you out there,” he says, but Matt doesn’t miss how he looks at Eddie as he says it. 

Then it’s just the two of them.

There are a lot of things he wants to say to Eddie. He’ll get round to some of them later when he’s blind drunk and crying. But he needs to be sober for this.

“Just one of us left.”

Eddie smiles sadly. “Well, you know me, confirmed bachelor.”

“You know… if there was something you wanted to tell us. That— that you thought you couldn’t—”

Eddie shakes his head. “Matty—”

“—just listen. Please.”

Eddie freezes, eyes fixed on the floor.

“We love you. And if there was anything you ever wanted to tell us, we would be over the fucking moon to hear about it. And… and Steve’s a good guy.”

Eddie looks like a deer caught in a trap and Matt hates it. Hates that Eddie feels he can’t share the most important part of his life with them because the world is so shitty he couldn’t even be sure his best friends would be okay about it. So it stops now. 

They’re a family. Gareth and Bonnie, and Jeff and Melody, and Matt and Lily. And Eddie and Steve. 

[aziraphales-library]

Lost Fic #191

1. Hi! Yesterday I found a highly specific fic on tumblr and i started reading it, but I lost it and somehow I can't find it in my history. I had found it on tumblr, under somebody shitposting that crowley and aziraphale decide who tops or bottoms every evening based on who received the check... the actual fic's plot is that one evening they're dining and crowley tries to joke that waiters always give him the check because they think he tops, but he took for granted that Aziraphale hadn't understood the joke so he laughs it off, but Aziraphale DID and he gets irritated about it. They go to Aziraphale's place, they try to talk it out and smut ensues. I think Aziraphale says at one point "I don't always want to be your stupid friend". But I'm sure there was a reversed wall slam. Help me if you can, please?? - anon

2. Hello! I am looking for a lost fic that I couldn't find in my AO3 history or your tags :( It's Aziraphale POV, takes place mostly in the bookshop. Aziraphale is excited to make a human friend who asks what A.Z. Fell stands for, and Aziraphale panics and says "Anthony." Human friend asks Aziraphale to a lecture (or the like) and Aziraphale says yes not realizing it's a date. Crowley overhears him being called Anthony and cracks up, and human friend mistakes A and C for a couple. If you or any of your followers know what this fic is I'd be so grateful! Thank you! - @smallspaceplant

3. Hi guys, first off I'd like to thank you for all the love and effort you put here, and it's helped me loads! I'm looking for a fic that I read a long, long time ago. It was so long ago that it might have been posted on ff.net, I really can't remember. I'd like to think I've read it about 10 years ago, but can't be sure. What I do remember is that Aziraphale fell and went with the name Zira or maybe Zirah, favored a cane with intricate carvings that Crowley(not that name though) gave him, and he used that to, a, sort a problem with the extra baby, and Crowley(or whatever his angelic name was) found blood on it and was understandably freaked out. Does anyone remember this fic? - anon

4. Hello! I’m looking for a fic and I only have a vague recollection of some scenes so I completely understand if you can’t pin it down! It’s 100% book omens, and I’m pretty sure it was written before the show came out. I’m also pretty sure it’s less than 10k words. Crowley and Aziraphale sleep together for the first time and the next morning Crowley is having Thoughts about whether this was considered a temptation. Aziraphale shuts it down and kisses him again. They show each other their wings. In the end, they kind of go their separate ways but agree to meet up again some time in the future. Again, sorry for the lack of details! - anon

5. Hi! I’m looking for a fic where god sends Aziraphale to another timeline? Or something? Because the apocalypse happened and god said something about him being happy and Aziraphale can’t be happy without Crowley (I think Crowley became a star after death) He ends up being polite but super distant with Crowley in this new timeline bc Crowley’s last words were to leave him alone Begging for anyone to help🧎🏻‍♀️- anon

If you know any of these fics please include the number in your reply! Thank you :)

- Mod D

[yuri-is-online]

TD anon here, I do feel you on the "torture" scene with Taiga, I didn't want my last ask getting any longer lmao.

While the scene definitely made me squeal, for me personally it was undercut by the emotionally charged scene that happened immediately after with Romeo lmao. It's exactly how I felt with Frostheim too, being excited over the dance with Jin, and then immediately after we get the cigarette kiss scene with Jin and Tohma LOL. But it only makes sense, MC has only just showed up at the school, not enough time to bond, and honestly with these kinds of joseimuke games I don't have much expectations of interactions between the cast and MC so in TD she's already much more involved with the whole comic thing anyways.

Eating the Like Dove raw... was really a raw scene lol. He seems to be attracted to blood for some reason? Since he paused when MC's cut started bleeding, I think he was about to lick the blood tbh.

And yeah I do wonder if his shoddy memory has anything to do with his deal's cost. Another vibe theory time, I feel like his fear of the Like Dove might've been... ingrained in him somehow? Maybe he had a run-in before but can't remember it. The reason why I think this is because when MC met him alone, when she reminded him that she was the Honor student, his response was "Oh no wonder I didn't kill you on the spot", he literally forgot about her but his body/instinct made him aware she's someone he's not supposed to kill.... if that makes sense?

He feels like an even bigger enigma than Towa, I'm curious to know what's going on in his head in the moments he goes eerily quiet. Not to mention he's the poster boy of the game, has to be a reason. Luca feels more in line to be the poster boy but it's Taiga...

I enjoyed Haru's drunk spiel about how helpful MC is lol. Also my eyes going wide when Rui said he wants to know what she's made of too... what does that mean....... I need more Rui content, I love his blatant flirtations lol. I got a campus event with Rui, Haru and Romeo in the bar before I even read the chapter, their unexpected friendship is very cute ngl.

(sorry in case this is sent repeatedly, smth wrong with my net atm)

Generally speaking I have found tumblr doesn't post or send things twice but it sure as hell reblogs them with the same tags 42 times making me look like some sort of freak

for me personally it was undercut by the emotionally charged scene that happened immediately after

Yeah I get this. The cigarette kiss with Tohma and Jin took me off guard, but that was mostly because I thought this was an otome game? Come to think of it I don't think we've had confirmation of the whole joseimuke v otome game thing beyond the existence of the like dove and individual character affinity... Well and that when this was announced it was supposed to be an otome game. I know that the otome games subreddit has been having some, shall we say spirited? Discussions lately about how players feel about ros getting into relationships with each other. The general opinion was that a lot of times the ro x ro relationships feel more fleshed out that the ro x mc ones, and I agree. I actually stopped writing something I wanted to be an otome game because the story started shaping up to be more about the mc's mentor than them, and I personally do not think that is very fun. People do like laid back mcs, they do not like mcs who have no place in the narrative, and some writers aren't good at balancing that. TDB mc is doing pretty well when it comes to interactions with the main cast compared to something like Twisted Wonderland if what you want is explicit romance, so far it feels like Season 1 of og Obey Me! from what I remember of that game, so we'll see.

I didn't get the same level of intimacy from Romeo and Taiga as I did Jin and Tohma? But I think that's because in both cases I thought the like dove had appeared before Romeo got there and was talking to Taiga and the second scene made me think Taiga was angry at him for interrupting his "fun." Whatever that "fun" was going to wind up being because yeeeeeah he seems like he has a blood kink of some sort. I think he was going to suck on it and bite her a bit, but licking seems like a logical first step and less influenced by what's wrong with me. Like I said over here the scene with the Like Dove fascinates me... it says more about Taiga than any other character in the game that we get to see the dove twice and that when given the chance he shoots and eats it... if that isn't a metaphor for denial and emotional repression then I am not sure what is.

he literally forgot about her but his body/instinct made him aware she's someone he's not supposed to kill…. if that makes sense?

YES. I wanted to talk about this but it sort of got into conspiracy theory territory and my answer was getting long. I don't know if anyone remembers, but waaaay back in Book 1 when mc tries to escape the school she isn't able to get anyone's attention. It's like they don't see her, is that because of her curse or is it because of preventative measures put in place by the school? I want to lean towards the latter because it makes more sense BUT I also want to be delusional and say that it's part of mc's curse. There's something about Taiga's instinctual fear of the Like Dove and his comments to the mc that make me think his body knows her but his paranoia and memory issues keep him from knowing it.

This is just me writing fan fic... but Taiga is technically the first ghoul you meet. He is the poster boy of the game, he is the first person to bring mc into the main loop and tell her there's a spy. I want so badly for him to have known her at some point but to have been robbed of his memories... Romeo seems to think he is trying to forget stuff on purpose "gone off the deep end" and "escape reality" are both things he says to describe him though granted that last one was due to a misunderstanding about what Taiga was trying to do with the anomaly. Something real bad happened last year, something I feel like Taiga doesn't want to acknowledge unless he can get revenge on whoever caused it. I mentioned in another post, but I sort of want MC to have something to do with Clementia and that's why she's there at the dorm beyond it just being empty due to the clash. (I do get why Luca isn't the poster boy; he's not a dorm captain and those seem to be what the game wants to push. well them and towa lol)

Haru and Rui

Rui is a bar tender who is described as being "popular with the female students" probably because of how flirty he is ha. I love his dynamic with Haru and Romeo, just a barman and his two favorite customers shooting the shit and trying to relax. Rui is cursed to kill whoever he touches, so I think he wants to talk with MC more because he can relate to her in a very unique way. And he got gate kept from doing so by Haku in book one so he's extra curious now. I have his SR so I'll put him on my homescreen for a bit and see what voice lines I can shake out of him. For the little bit I did have him there he called him and mc "curse twins" which I thought was very cute. In a dark sort of way. The entire section at the Obscuary bar endeared me to all three of those idiots.

But especially Haru. He called Peekaboo his child this chapter too ;-; he's such a good dad. I wonder if he is going to show up next books at all? Or if it's going to be like the previous books and we'll instead see Taiga and maaaaybe Towa? Since he's friends with Zenji. Nothing to do but wait for May 0-0