#then silence apart from the brush of lips and the mood shifts

[crowlixcx]

If we ever get Aziraphale and Crowley neck kisses I'll give up therapy because if that doesn't cure my brain then nothing will

[magical-reid]

Hi I’m sorry to bother but I wanted to know if you have read or seen a fic with Bucky and he has a girlfriend he hasn’t told anyone about but him, nat and Sam so they meet her

I'm not the best person to ask for recommendations, but I'll make you what you're looking for! I hope you like it!

Secrets and Surprises

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 900

Summary: Bucky has been keeping his relationship with you a secret from most of the team, only confiding in Sam and Nat. But when the truth finally comes out, it’s not at all how he imagined.

You stretch up on your tiptoes, reaching for a coffee mug from the top shelf in Bucky's apartment. The morning light filters in through the kitchen window, casting soft shadows on the floor. Just as your fingers graze the handle, you feel a pair of strong hands settle on your waist, pulling you gently against a broad chest.

“Morning, doll.” His voice is husky with sleep, and you feel the warmth of his breath against the side of your temple as his lips brush lightly over your skin.

You smile softly, turning to face him. “Morning,” you murmur, your fingers still on the mug as you give him a teasing smile. “I was going to bring you coffee in bed.”

Bucky’s eyes gleam with mischief as he leans casually against the counter, his arms folding across his chest. “Sweet of you, but you know I can’t stay in bed when you’re up.”

You roll your eyes playfully and hand him his mug. “You’re too soft for me, Barnes.”

He lets out a chuckle, his usual steel-hard exterior slipping as his gaze softens. “And you love it.”

It’s true. There’s something endearing about seeing the once-feared Winter Soldier, a man who had faced battles that would break most people, now wrapped around your finger. But it still made you laugh, watching him melt in ways only you had seen.

As you’re about to tease him more about it, his phone buzzes on the counter. Bucky glances down at it, and his expression falls slightly.

“What’s up?” you ask, sensing the sudden shift in his mood.

“The team. Steve’s calling a meeting.”

You arch an eyebrow, setting the coffee pot down. “You gonna tell them about me?”

Bucky hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. His expression is conflicted, but not out of shame. It’s more complicated than that. After everything he’s been through, he wanted something untouched by scrutiny, a part of his life just for him. He’d only let Sam and Nat in on the secret—because, well, they weren’t easily fooled.

“I will,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a hint of regret. “Soon.”

You nod, your heart understanding his need for space. You’re not in any rush to share this with the world.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Later, the day unfolds in a way you never anticipated. You're sitting at your favorite café, sipping your latte, when your phone buzzes with a text from Sam.

Sam: Come to the compound. Trust me.

You furrow your brow, looking at the message. Sam was never cryptic without a reason.

Without hesitation, you gather your things and head to the Avengers Compound, curiosity gnawing at you. When you arrive, FRIDAY greets you smoothly, letting you in without question. That’s a red flag in itself—Bucky must’ve given her clearance to let you in.

As soon as you step into the common room, a silence hits. The entire team is there, staring at you.

Natasha’s smirking, her arms crossed, while Sam’s wearing a grin that could rival a Cheshire cat’s. And Bucky... Bucky looks like he’s about to burst into flames, his face turning slightly red as he meets your gaze.

“Uh…” you start awkwardly, shifting on your feet. “Hi?”

Steve’s eyes narrow, his expression shifting from confusion to suspicion. “You have a girlfriend?”

Wanda’s jaw is slightly dropped, and Tony raises an eyebrow. “I thought Bucky was sneaking out for midnight brooding walks… but no, turns out he’s been sneaking out to you?”

Bucky lets out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Okay, before anyone starts—yes, we’re together. Yes, I was going to tell you all. No, I didn’t because…”

“Because he’s a secretive little punk,” Sam cuts in, clearly enjoying the moment.

Bucky glares at him. “Not helping, Wilson.”

You suppress a laugh, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow. “So… surprise?”

Natasha leans back, a satisfied grin on her face. “About time you met them. I was getting tired of being the only one who knew.”

Clint raises a hand. “I have one question. Why were we left out?”

You glance at Bucky, who shrugs sheepishly. “Didn’t want you all scaring her off.”

Tony gasps dramatically, hand over his heart. “Us? Intimidating?”

You snicker, shaking your head. “Maybe just a little.”

The room erupts into overlapping conversations, questions firing off from all directions. How long have you been together? How did you meet? Why the hell did Bucky think he could keep a secret like this from a team of superheroes?

Bucky pulls you closer, his arm wrapping around you, a sign of both protection and reassurance. “Guess the secret’s out.”

You grin up at him, squeezing his hand. “Told you they’d find out eventually.”

Sam slaps Bucky on the back with exaggerated force, clearly enjoying the drama. “Man, you really thought you could keep a secret from us? Rookie mistake.”

Bucky groans in frustration, but you just laugh, feeling more at home with these people than you expected.

This definitely wasn’t how you envisioned meeting the Avengers. But looking around, at Bucky, at all these people who had been through so much and yet still felt like family—this was perfect.

[nanamiskentos]

tags — reader has a fever, trueform!sukuna

"sukuna, i think 'm dying."

the estate is unusually quiet tonight, the only sounds being the rustling of silks and the crackling of the candles flickering in the evening light. outside, the air has turned cool, but inside, the fever that rages through your body makes everything feel so suffocatingly hot. limbs thrumming with an ache that makes it so impossible to focus.

the king of curses is still beside you, and he has yet to speak, indifference practically radiating off him. two arms crossed over his bare, marked chest, and the other two are flipping lazily through the thin pages of a book.

"sukuna," you repeat, "are you jus' gonna sit there while the love of your life withers away?"

blood-wine eyes narrowing, barely glancing at you, "tch', do i look like a babysitter for ill humans?"

"hope you catch whatever i've got."

you can hear the smug tone colouring sukuna's dulcet tone, "can't. i've got an impeccable system. i'm immune to diseases you've never even heard of."

rolling your eyes, you throw the sheets off, shivering as the cool air hits your fevered skin, "not immune to being a cunt."

sukuna sighs, snapping the book shut, as though your ill mood is an mere inconvenience, "what is it that you want?"

you scoot closer to his hulking form, body heavy with an aching fatigue, "well, my head hurts and 'm hungry. like, i want plums."

"plums?" sukuna echoes in disbelief, his four arms unfurling, "tsk', what do you think i am? some kind of fruit merchant? i don't have time for this." with an irritable glance, he's muttering something under his breath, large frame retreating as he stalks out of the room.

he's still grumbling, biting and muttering about the incompetence of humans, and menial labour being below him. you can only roll your eyes, letting your head fall back against the pillow. wondering where on earth he's gone to.

perhaps, it would have been more prudent to call for the servants. but just as the silence becomes unbearable, you hear thudding steps. the door sliding open with a soft hiss, and before you can even lift your head, a cool cloth is pressed to your forehead. there's no tenderness nor gentleness in the gesture, but it is quiet and unceremonious. somehow bringing instant relief.

a basket is clunked! down beside you, and the sweet scent of ripe fruit fills the air, "don't get used to it, brat."

you crack open bleary eyes, and there he is, clawed nails slipping through your hair. you've seen those razor-sharp nails tear men apart into ribbons without a second thought, but they've never even left a scratch upon your flesh.

"y'don't have to do all this. the servants could get someone in," you mumble, unable to resist the small curl of a smile that tugs at the corners of your dry lips. there's something almost endearing about the sight of sukuna, his rough and bruised look softened by the mussed blush-pink strands atop his head.

"clearly, i do. not even capable of looking after yourself," sukuna grumbles, but there's a shift in a tone. no longer indifference, you would wager, looking at the worried creases kissing his eyes, whispering of rare concern from a demon's heart. he's clearly toying with some idea, stiff, as though he's visibly disgusted — but searing lips brush your forehead in a fleeting kiss. soft, barely there, but it's enough to soothe the worries that often plague at your heart.

"ugh, don't look at me like that," sukuna mutters, pulling back from you, eyes flitting over your face. large, warm hand moving to your neck, a broad thumb tracing the arch of it with a feather-light touch, testing the waters.

you softly laugh, tugging at a wide forearm, lightly dusted with pale hair, "i should fall ill more often."

sukuna's crimson eyes snap to yours, and for a split second, the usual smugness dissipates. handsome nose scrunching slightly, displeased, and you catch the fleeting shift of guilt in his expression. before you can remark on it, he leans in again, hot lips brushing the side of your neck, as though he wishes to hide his open expression, "greedy, aren't you?" he's murmuring, edge of his voice thick with something you can't place.

without a word, thick arms are pulling you closer, guiding your weary head to rest against the curve of his broad, bare chest. the raw heat radiating from his form is a welcome contrast to the chill of the room, and you can't help but melt into his touch.

"sleep, you idiot," sukuna grumbles softly, voice rumbling through his chest. a hand rests lightly on your back, heavy and warm. it's often a presence that you'd never thought you'd grow accustomed to. but now, with your body aching and your mind giving way to exhaustion, it feels...right. the last thing you hear is his steady, soothing grumble, the familar sound of him still annoyed, still gruff, but somehow softer, "don't want you ever forgetting that i do love you"

a beat of silence, and then, "shoulda' checked you were asleep before i dropped that one."

[boobabietch]

You needed me | Paige Bueckers x reader

Warnings: smuttttt, sub!Paige, bottom!Paige, oral (p receiving), fingering (P receiving), no use of Y/N, reader is annoying and it annoys Paige lmao

A/N: Based on this request and honestly I’m such a sucker for sub!Paige and I think this woman needs to be pleased more often!!!! As always English is not my first language so if you find something wrong tell me so I can change it asap, likes, reblogs and comments(!!!) are highly appreciated and my ask box is always open, with nothing else to say, enjoy! Love Sof :))

You could see it from the moment she woke up, Paige was in one of her moods. The kind where every little thing seemed to set her off, and no matter how hard you tried to lighten things up, it only seemed to make her retreat further into herself.

You understood her better than anyone, though.

Knew when to push and when to back off, so you gave her space, letting her have her silence. But now, as the night dragged on, you couldn’t take it anymore. The silence never sat right between you two, not for long.

So, you walked into her room, flopping down next to her without saying a word. Paige didn’t even glance up, just kept scrolling through her phone, her face scrunched up like she was still lost in whatever frustration she’d been holding onto all day. You waited for a minute, feeling the tension between you both.

It was killing you.

“You still mad?” you finally asked, your voice low but teasing.

“Not mad,” she huffed, but you could see the tightness in her jaw, the way her body tensed just from your presence.

“Sure, you’re not,” you muttered, reaching out to brush a stray lock of blonde hair from her face. She glared at you, but it lacked any real heat, more of that leftover irritation than actual anger. You pressed closer, your hand traveling to cup her jaw lightly, feeling her resolve start to crack. “Come on, P. Don’t be like that.”

Her sigh told you everything you needed to know. She was giving in, even if she didn’t want to admit it yet. But for you, that wasn’t enough.

You shifted even closer, hand on her waist, pulling her closer, lips brushing against her neck, soft at first, just enough to make her shiver. “You know you can’t stay mad at me for long,” you whispered, smirking as you felt the slight tremble in her body.

She didn’t respond, but you knew you were wearing her down. Kissing along her jaw, your hands found her thighs, resting there lightly at first, just testing the waters. “You wanna keep being annoyed, or you wanna let me make it better?” you murmured, your voice dropping into that low, raspy tone that always got to her.

Still no answer, but the way her breath hitched, the way her hands twitched, told you everything. You took that as your green light, hands slipping up her thighs, pushing her legs apart as you settled between them, your lips trailing lower, kissing, biting, taking her sports bra off and tossing it aside carelessly, knowing exactly how to push her buttons. Paige let out a shaky breath, and you couldn’t help the smug grin that tugged at your lips.

“I’m sorry for being annoying,” you murmured against her skin, your mouth hovering over her breast. “Let me make it up to you, yeah?”

She didn’t say anything, but her fingers tangled in your hair, tugging you closer, and that was all the permission you needed. You knew exactly what she liked, how to touch her, how to kiss her

How to please her.

And you could feel the tension in her body melting away with each passing second.

Your lips trailed lower, kissing her stomach, your hands working quickly but not too fast, teasing, making her squirm beneath you. By the time you had her shorts off, whatever had her upset was long forgotten. Her head fell back, her eyes half-closed, lost in the moment.

“See,” you murmured, kissing the inside of her thigh, sucking enough to know it’ll leave a mark “you’re already feeling better.”

Paige groaned, her grip on your hair tightening, and you grinned. Even when she was mad or annoyed, she couldn’t hide the way her body reacted to you.

You loved it.

“You can stop being mad at me now,” you teased, pressing soft kisses between her legs, your breath hot against were she needed you the most.

“I wasn’t mad,” she muttered, her voice shaky as your thumb started playing torturously soft with her clit, spreading her folds lightly, but you knew better. She always tried to play tough, but you could read her like a book.

“Mhm, sure,” you hummed, your tongue tracing a slow line along her, feeling her hips jerk in response. You held her down, maintaining control, your hands gripping her thighs with bruising strength as your mouth finally found home on her pussy, licking and sucking like a starved woman.

You sucked and licked her clit before slamming two fingers in her entrance, her grip on your hair tightened at the intrusion.

Her gasps and moans were all you needed to know you were winning. Paige was right on the edge, clenching on your fingers, her body trembling, back arching, hips grinding on you with desperation, breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. When you felt her start to tip over, you pulled back just enough to make her whimper in frustration, she looked down at you with that desperate expression she always had when she wasn’t having what she needed.

“You still mad, babe?” you asked, looking up at her, amusement clear in your voice as you saw the flush on her face, the way she was fighting to keep control.

“Just… shut up,” she breathed, head leaning back to rest on the pillow, too far gone now to care about her earlier mood.

You chuckled but didn’t need to be told twice. You dove back in, this time with no teasing, just pure focus. It only took a few more moments, a few more thrusts with your fingers curled to hit the spot that made her loose her fucking shit, before she was coming undone beneath you, her body tensing, a soft cry of release slipping from her lips.

You slowed down, tracing lazy circles on her clit, easing her through it, kissing her thighs softly as her breathing steadied, her body relaxing completely. After a moment, you crawled back up, kissing her softly, her collarbone, her neck, her jaw, then you kissed her, hands cupping her jaw, her release still present on the taste of your mouth. You pulled back, Paige’s eyes fluttered open, her expression soft, content, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of smug satisfaction.

“Better now?” you asked, your thumb caressing her lower lip softly.

She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at her lips. “You’re an ass.”

You grinned, leaning in to kiss her again. “I know.”

Requests are Open!

Masterlist

[petriwriting]

Amortentia - Theodore Nott X Reader

Summary: Learning about amortentia in class

“And with the correct blend of ingridients, does anyone know what is created?” Professor snape asks in his brass tone. A hufflepuff girl raises her hand very hesitantly. “Yes?” He points to to the girl with a gesture. “It’s a live potion.” She says tenderly. “Correct.” Snape retorts, before awarding hufflepuff house a whole 5 points.

You and Theo are standing next to each other, curiously gazing at the cauldron that’s emitting a pink glow very curiously. “The two of you,” professor snape gestures again. You and Theo are first in disbelief, but then you each step forward. “One at a time, I want you to lean forward and describe to me the distinct scent of this potion.” He says.

“Yes professor,” you say. “I’ll go first.” Theodore says. She leans forward into the cauldron, and a pleasant scent fills his senses. “It’s like,” he pursed his lips in thought before continuing. “Lavendar… Cloves, and fresh rain.” He says finally.

“Very well, your turn ms/mr L/N.”

You step forward just has Theodore had, and take a moment to inhale. “. . .It’s warm, it smells like a campfire, cedar… and lemongrass, old books, tobacco.” It was an odd but unique mix that was comforting, familiar almost.

“Does anyone know why Mr. Nott and Mr/Ms L/N are picking up these particular scents?” Professor snape asks. Expecting someone to answer. You step forward after a bit of awkward silence. For a brilliant potions master, he could sure be intimidating sometimes. You could recall from this last lecture; “The scents are whatever the person thinks to be attractive or alluring.” You explain. Professor snape nods. “Excellent.” He cooes.

Your house is awarded 10 points. The remainder of the class felt like a blur, you were tired less engaged during the second half of the class, though when dismissed you were finally able to sigh in relief.

Theodore, whom had been your best friend since your first year noticed the shift in your mood. “You okay?” He says, packing his satchel with his potion making tools for class, his textbook and notes. “Yeah, just tired is all.” You said quietly, gathering your things as well.

“Maybe you can get some rest this afternoon then.” Theodore offered gently. He had always been kind to you in that way. “Maybe.” You lean back putting your hands on the table, brushing theo’s hand which was already there.

Although this was an accident you felt a jolt of energy and your heart began to race. The busy classroom died down until it was just the two of you standing there in an empty classroom. He didn’t move his hand. You smiled softly.

He caught your eyes, his gaze was soft and he slowly leaned in, taking a auick peek at your lips. You did the same until your faces were inches apart.

You would have totally kissed. If it were the poor kid who forgot his book who came back into the classroom. You each pulled away slightly as the student uttered a quick “so sorry.” And rushed back outside.

You and theo chuckled. You liked being so close to him. You could smell that funny scent from the potion from the first part of class start to fill your senses, campfire… cedar… lemongrass… old books… tobacco. You brushed it off, thinking maybe it was some coincidental thing. Or a mind trick. But professor snap had did away with the cauldron and the concoction already… it was strange. You were rattled in thoughts.

“Well, I ought to get going.” Theodore said. “Meet me outside common room tonight, 8 O’clock, and we’ll chat then. Yeah?” He offered. You were still enamored with yourself. “Yeah, Yeah that sounds great.”

“I’ll see you then.” Theodore said slowly making his way away. It took you a few seconds before you realized what was happening. The scent was there when you were about to kiss him, it wasn’t just the cauldron.. and you thought back to when you had answered professor snape. It hit you all at once in a sudden moment, you facepalmed and laughed in disbelief at yourself. It’s smells like whatever is attractive for you, it smells like someone you love… And you were in love, oh Merlin were you in love.

What you did not consider, was what Theodore was thinking. And how you were wearing lavender and clove scented perfume that day.

[ivyues]

Sleeves Pulled Back: Stray Kids' reactions to their S/O's s/h scars

if you’re struggling: findahelpline | befrienders

request: “Skz finding out you did s/h or saw your s/h scars…” (i changed it up for some but i hope you like it :3 )

Bang Chan

Chris gently took your hand, his thumb brushing over your wrist as he pulled you to sit with him on the couch.

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice laced with concern. “Talk to me, yeah?”

You hesitated, looking away. “It’s nothing, Chris—”

“It’s not nothing.” He shook his head. “I know it’s hard, but I need you to know something, okay?”

You finally met his gaze, and his eyes were full of nothing but love and understanding.

“You can always call me. No matter the time, no matter where I am. Even if I’m in the studio, on tour, in the middle of a meeting – I don’t care. I’ll answer.”

A shaky breath left your lips. “I don’t want to bother you…”

Chris scoffed, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Bother me? Please. I’m an insomniac anyways.” He nudged you lightly, trying to lighten the mood. “Might as well spend my sleepless nights talking to my favorite person, right?”

You let out a small laugh, and his heart swelled with relief. But then, his face turned serious again.

“I mean it,” he said, squeezing your hand. “I don’t want you to go through this alone. And if it helps, why don’t you stay at the dorm for a while? I.N won’t mind, and I’d feel better knowing you’re close.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing, his tone gentle. “And… maybe we can look into getting you someone to talk to—like a therapist? Just so you have more support.”

Your throat tightened, emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

“Okay,” you whispered.

His arms wrapped around you in an instant, holding you as if he could take away all your pain just by being there. “Good,” he murmured into your hair. “We’ll get through this together, yeah?”

Lee Know

You had been reaching for your cup, your sleeve sliding up just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the faint, fresh marks among the old ones on your arm. His heart clenched. His mind raced. But he said nothing – at least, not at first.

Instead, he waited, watching you as you kept talking, pretending like nothing was wrong. But he wasn’t pretending.

When you finally noticed his silence, you frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Lee Know’s eyes flickered to your wrist. “Show me,” he said, voice low.

You blinked, following his gaze, and quickly pulled your sleeve back down.

His jaw tightened. He reached forward, carefully, fingers grazing over your arm. “Don’t do that.”

You shook your head, shifting away slightly. “It’s not a big deal, Minho.”

When you didn’t move, he reached for your wrist, this time with more purpose. His grip was gentle, but firm enough to keep you from pulling away. Slowly, deliberately, he pushed your sleeve up.

The sight of the fresh lines against your skin made something break inside him. He traced them with his thumb, barely touching, as if afraid he might hurt you more.

“Why?” His voice cracked. “You promised…”

Your eyes stung. “I know.”

“Then why?” His gaze was filled with hurt, with love, with something deeper – something that made it impossible to lie.

Tears welled in your eyes, but you bit your lip. “I just… I was overwhelmed. I didn’t know how else to cope.”

Lee Know let out a shaky breath before pulling you into his arms. His grip was tight, as if trying to hold you together when he felt you falling apart.

“You don’t have to do this alone.” he whispered against your hair.

Changbin

The night was late, the kind where the world outside felt distant and made it easy to speak the truths hidden deep inside.

You hesitated, fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. “Binnie…”

He hummed in response, turning his head slightly to look at you. 

“There’s something I want to tell you.” You swallowed, your hands gripping each other. “I used to… self-harm.”

“I don’t do it anymore,” You reassured him quickly, seeing the shock in his face. “But… I won’t lie. Sometimes, when things get really overwhelming, I get scared. Scared that I might—” You took a deep breath. “That I might do it again.”

Changbin exhaled softly, his fingers brushing over yours before taking your hands in his own. He squeezed them gently.

“I appreciate you telling me,” he said, his voice steady but soft. “I know that wasn’t easy.”

“I just… I don’t want to. I don’t plan to. But sometimes, it’s like the thought lingers, you know?”

He nodded, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your palm. “I get it.” He paused for a moment before his eyes lit up with an idea. “It might be stupid… but you my stress ball?”

You blinked at the sudden shift in conversation. You’d seen him use it often – squeezing it absentmindedly when stressed, rolling it between his hands to focus.

“Would you like one too?” he asked. “Not because I think it’ll fix everything, but because… if you ever feel like things are getting too much, maybe it can help. You and I—we can match.”

Something about the idea made my chest ache. It wasn’t just a suggestion; it was his way of saying he wanted to support you, to help you find ways to cope that weren’t harmful. To remind you that you weren't alone.

A small smile formed on your lips. “Matching stress balls, huh?”

Hyunjin

Today, Hyunjin decided to visit you unannounced. "Y/N?" he called out, expecting to hear your voice from the living room, maybe the kitchen. Silence.

He glanced around. Your shoes were by the door. Your phone rested on the couch. You had to be here. Then, faintly, he heard movement from the bathroom.

He approached and knocked lightly. "Hey, you in there?"

No answer.

He knocked again, firmer this time. "Baby?"

Still nothing. But he could hear you. Breathing. Something shifting. Something that didn’t sit right in his gut.

"Okay, I'm coming in," he warned, turning the knob. The door wasn’t locked.

The sight before him made his breath hitch.

You were standing by the sink, your sleeves hastily pushed down, hands shaking slightly as you gripped a damp washcloth. Your eyes went wide, frozen in place.

Then he saw it. The slight redness peeking from under your sleeve. The discarded tissue, faintly stained.

Something sharp twisted in his chest.

He swallowed thickly, willing himself to stay steady. To not let his emotions spill over.

"Y/N," he said softly, stepping closer. You flinched, instinctively taking a step back, but he didn’t stop. 

"Why…" His voice nearly cracked, but he forced himself to stay calm. "Why didn't you tell me?"

You opened your mouth, then closed it. Looking away.

Hyunjin inhaled deeply, blinking away the sting behind his eyes. He couldn’t cry. Not now. This wasn’t about him.

He let out a shaky exhale and, instead of saying anything else, pulled you into him. Holding you. Just holding you.

You were stiff at first, but then – gradually – you melted against him, gripping his hoodie like it was the only thing tethering you to the world.

"I'm here," he whispered into your hair. "Okay? I'm here. Always."

Han

It was late, the dorm quiet except for the soft hum of the heater. You had come over after a long day, curling up on his bed with one of his oversized hoodies. He was playing a melody on his guitar, when he noticed you tugging at your sleeve again.

"Are you cold?" he asked.

You shook your head, forcing a smile. "Just tired."

But when you stretched your arms above your head, your sleeve slipped for just a second. It was enough.

Enough for Han to see the faint but undeniable lines on your wrist.

His heart clenched. "Wait—" He reached for your hand gently, as if you might shatter. You tried to pull away, but he held on. "What… what is this?"

Your breath hitched, and you quickly yanked your sleeve back down. "It's nothing," you whispered, voice barely above a breath.

But Han wasn't buying it. His fingers trembled as he traced over the fabric where the scars were hidden. "No, it's not," he said, his voice breaking. "Why didn’t you say anything?"

Tears welled in your eyes. "Because I didn’t want you to worry. You already have so much on your plate—"

"That doesn’t matter," he interrupted. His gaze was filled with so much emotion it made your chest ache. "You matter. If you're hurting, I want to know. I need to know."

You looked away, ashamed. But Han cupped your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. There was no judgment in them – only pain, only love.

"You don't have to go through this alone," he murmured. "Please… let me help."

Felix

Felix’s fingers traced the ink on your forearm, his touch featherlight as he admired the delicate design. You both sat on the couch, his head resting against your shoulder as he held your arm in his hands, turning it slightly to see the details.

“I never asked before,” he murmured. “Is there a special meaning behind your tattoo?”

You stiffened slightly but forced yourself to relax. You had always known this question would come one day. 

“It covers old scars,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. You didn’t dare to meet his eyes, afraid of what you might find there.

“I… used to struggle a lot. But I didn’t want that to be the first thing people noticed about me. And I wanted to see something beautiful when I looked at my arm.”

Felix didn’t speak right away. Instead, he turned your arm over gently, his thumb grazing over the tattooed skin. You finally lifted your gaze to see his expression, only to find his warm eyes filled with something that looked like both sadness and love.

“You went through that alone?” he asked quietly, his brows furrowed as if the thought of you hurting alone physically pained him.

“I don’t anymore,” you said, giving him a small, reassuring smile. “I’m okay now, Lix.”

He nodded, but you could tell he was still processing. He lifted your arm and pressed a lingering kiss over the inked petals, then another to the inside of your wrist. “I wish I could have been there,” he murmured. “I wish I could have held you through it.”

“You’re here now,” you whispered, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from his eyes. “And that’s what matters.”

Seungmin

Upon seeing the scars, Seungmin’s heart clenched, but his face remained calm.

"Y/N," he said softly, his voice soft. "Can we talk about this?"

You hesitated, looking anywhere but him. Shame curled in your stomach, a familiar, bitter weight. "I don’t know," you murmured, trying to tug your sleeve back down.

But Seungmin didn’t let go – he wasn’t forceful, just… present. "You don’t have to tell me everything, but please… let me be here for you", his tone steady

Your lips trembled as you exhaled shakily. "I don’t know how to explain it. Sometimes it just… feels like too much. And this helps."

"I’m not going to tell you to stop," he said carefully. "But I need you to know… you don’t have to do this alone. I’m here. Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard."

Your throat tightened, and you blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay. "Aren’t you upset? Or angry?"

He gave you a small, sad smile. "This isn’t about me. Right now, you don’t need my emotions weighing on you—you just need to know you’re not alone."

Later that night, after he made sure you ate something, after he hugged you just tightly enough to let you know he was there, after you fell asleep with your fingers loosely curled around his, Seungmin slipped out of bed and into the bathroom.

He shut the door softly, pressing his hands against the sink, his knuckles turning white. His chest heaved as the weight of what happened finally crashed over him.

Silent tears fell, his shoulders shaking as he stifled his sobs with the back of his sleeve. He hated that you hurt in a way he couldn’t just fix, that he hadn’t noticed sooner. That you had been carrying this pain alone.

I.N

You sat on the dorm floor, your back against the couch, while I.N sprawled out beside you, his head resting comfortably on a pillow. He had been scrolling through his phone, laughing at some ridiculous meme, when his hand absentmindedly reached for yours.

His fingers toyed with the loose sleeve of your hoodie, tugging at it as he always did when he was relaxed. But then – his laughter faded. His grip stilled.

The fabric had slipped up just enough. Just enough for him to see.

I.N’s movements halted. The playful smile on his face faded as his eyes landed on the faint scars that lined your wrist. He blinked, his brows furrowing as his fingers hesitantly traced over the marks. You tensed, but let your arm stay in his hold.

“Y/N…” His voice was barely above a whisper, laced with something you couldn’t quite decipher – concern, sadness, love. “These…”

You swallowed. “They're old. I don’t do it anymore.”

He was silent for a moment, his thumb grazing over the faded scars like he could erase them. Then, finally, he spoke. “I didn’t know.”

“Well, I didn't tell you,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “It’s not who I am anymore.”

He exhaled softly, leaning his forehead against your arm, his breath warm against your skin. “Promise me,” he murmured, “if you ever feel like that again, you’ll talk to me?”

Your heart clenched. You had been used to people seeing the scars and looking away, pretending they weren’t there. Or telling you you just wanted attention. But I.N saw them, acknowledged them, and still looked at you like you were whole.

“I will. Thank you.”

masterlist

[biteyoubiteme]

apologize

yeonjun x fem!reader

synopsis: you do have to say sorry when you hurt feelings

warnings: 🔞!!! oral (f!rec), slight fingering, orgasm denial/edging, multipul orgasms (f!rec), biting, crying, overstim mentions, no protection, creampie, Yeonjun calls reader baby once, reader mentioned as a girl by gyu, prob forgot some

wc: 1.7k

an: this was a request! hope I did it justice <3 feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]

it wasn't often that Yeonjun was mad at you, annoyed yes, but never really angry. only tonight was different, all of your friends were out together at one of the dorms. a glorified study session that was only an excuse to hang out and have dinner. all of you are sitting around the couchs joking around after your meal. you should have noticed the switch when you didn’t hear his soft chuckle, Yeonjun sitting between you and beomgyu on the sofa. 

Yeonjun would usually add to the teasing but as you leaned over giggling, playfully hitting Beomgyus arm Yeonjun Reached out to pull your hand back. his fingers twisting in yours drawing Beomgyus attention, “aw is someone upset I make their girl laugh more than they ever could?” 

“you’re asking for it,” you laugh leaning your head on yeonjuns shoulder, “but it might be true,” you whisper making gyu burst into laughter, pointing at Yeonjun as he huffs a humorless laugh. you were always joking, it was never serious, Yeonjun would play along with the fake annoyance, his tongue running along his teeth as he tried to hold back his laugh. but it wasn't like that this time. it was one of the first hints at his mood and you tried to backtrack, “he's good at other things,” but the damage was already done. 

the drive home was spent in near silence, the radio softly playing as you scrolled on your phone. both of yeonjuns hands on the wheel instead of having one on your thigh like usual but you didn’t notice. kicking off your shoes when you got to the apartment you made a beeline to the bedroom to change, following your usual nighttime routine. moving to grab your pajamas from the dresser you don’t even hear Yeonjun following you but when you turn he's sitting on the edge of the bed. leaning back on the heels of his palms as he watches you, his indifferent look the opposite of his usual loving gaze. 

“What's wrong?” Your sweet voice is so sympathetic, ready to fix any problem he has. 

“I didn’t find it funny,” 

“Find what funny?” you’re genuinely curious as to what he's talking about, he can see it in the way you tilt your head, the way you trace your eyes down his body to try to point out what possibly could have started this mood shift. 

“Your joking, from earlier,” your shoulders relax, and his jaw ticks. 

“oh,” your soft laugh brushing him off, “I'm sorry jjunie it was nothing you know that,” 

“Do I?” It's the slight tilt of his head that makes his intentions known, the way that one strand of hair sits on his brow, the way he glances from you to the floor right at his feet. it wasn't often that Yeonjun got this way but you knew what he wanted. you slipped to the floor, sitting back on your heels right in front of him. 

“Do you want me to show you how sorry I am?” you ask hands in your lap waiting for his answer. He sat forward putting his elbows to his knees so that he could bring his face closer to yours, noses nearly touching. 

“no, I'll be sure to get it out of you eventually,” he brushes your cheekbone with his thumb making your eyes flutter. He traces down to your lips tapping along their seam prompting you to open your mouth enough to fit the digit in. With his thumb in your mouth he wraps his other fingers around your chin to hold you in place as he kisses your nose. “Do you think you can handle your punishment?” 

You don’t have much freedom to nod but the slight movement makes Yeonjun smile. He lets you go, taking his thumb back and motioning you to stand. tugging on the end of your dress you assume he wants you to strip only he pulls you forward between his legs before guiding you to bend over his knee, your cheek pressed into the bed's comforter. He flips up the skirt of your dress, feeling along the waistband of your panties. “something I did find funny was how giggly you were with gyu,” 

“yeonjun-“ 

“no, speak when asked,” his finger slips along the seam of your underwear following the curve of your ass before lifting the elastic to let it snap back against your skin. your hips twitch at the sensation, hands twisting in the duvet, toes just barely touching the floor. his fingers dip further tracing over the fabric, running over the outline of your cunt purposefully avoiding your clit. 

you want to push back against his hand he's ghosting over you, the light touch making you want to whine but if you moved he would only drag your punishment out longer. Yeonjun can feel your wetness through the fabric and he circled his fingers over your clothed entrance before moving to your clit. your hips jerk at the feeling and you expect him to pull away but he doesn't fingers picking up speed as he rubs at your clit. “Wait,” you gasp, your orgasm building too fast when he barely had his hands on you but as soon as Yeonjun saw your toes start to curl he pulled his hand away. “no-“ you try to push back against his hand but he tisks sliding it to your inner thigh to hold you still but even that light touch goes straight to your clit making you whimper. 

“If you want to cum I'd listen for when you’re told to speak,” both his hands go to either of your thighs, groping you to make your pussy lips spread. you can feel his erection in his jeans, pressed against your pelvis, every movement from you grinding right down on him. When he thinks you've come down a bit he goes back to feeling you over your panties, slow circles back on your clit to drive you crazy. 

you’re already so close, your soft moans filling the air as you pull your knees together. “apologize,” it is one word but it's in one ear and out the other, your hips moving to try to chase your orgasm before it's ripped away from you again.  

“nooo,” your hips wiggling against him enough to make him completely pull himself away from you. He stands leaving you laid out on the bed. but before you could move Yeonjun was pulling down your panties, not even getting them past your knees, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed and wedging himself between your legs, his mouth on your clit making your back arch. Your shocked yelp turned into a strained moan, white-knuckling sheets, face buried into the mattress as he sucked. it was enough to bring you right back to the brink of your orgasm, thighs trembling with need. you were so sensitive now that if you did cum you would pass right into overstimulation if he kept his mouth on you but Yeonjun pulled away again. you could feel the tears brimming in your eyes, “please jjunie, please,” your begging mixed with a soft sob. 

“Are you going to say sorry?” he asks, rubbing soft shapes on your inner thigh to watch you tremble. he was using his free hand to wipe at his bottom lip collecting your wetness and putting it back into his mouth. 

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I-“You’re cut off by your own throaty moan as he leans back to give one last harsh suck to your clit. your orgasm hits you like a truck, clenching around nothing, you can hardly breathe. you don’t hear the sound of his belt being undone, so out of it until you feel the head of his cock catching on your entrance, your whine at the stretch music to his ears. he's rough as he slams into you pressing himself deep enough to hit your gspot. your hips roll back as you feel your second orgasm hit you out of nowhere, spots in your vision as Yeonjun presses his mouth to your ear. “say it again,” 

you’re too lost to speak, gummy walls clenching around him as he keeps up his pace, your mouth open in a silent moan, a small spot of drool on the comforter where you’re laying your head. “Say it again,” he demands through clenched teeth, your wetness making it so easy to slip in and out of you, all of your slick down the back of your thighs making every thrust leave a wet slapping sound echoing. 

“I know that pretty mouth does more than just laugh at other boys' jokes, say you’re sorry,” when you don’t answer he wastes no time in slipping a hand between you and the mattress to rub at your clit again. your whole body reacts, squeezing around him as you cry out, “I'm sorry!” his hips stuttering as he reaches out to hold one of your hands, his face burying into your neck as he cums, the warmth triggering another orgasm for you, your face now tear-stained as you twitch under him. you bring your interlocked hands to your mouth biting down on one of his fingers, his breath hot on your skin, trailing moans rumbling along your back as his thrusts slow to a stop. he keeps himself buried inside you, kissing along your shoulder and neck as you both wind down. 

you whimper when he pulls out of you, the gush of your combined release slipping out and down your leg. Yeonjun scoops up any cum he can before shoving his fingers back into your cunt finger fucking it back into you. “yeonjun,” your soft whisper is the only sound in the room. He tugs your panties back into place before climbing into the bed with you, pulling you close to his chest. 

“I really am sorry,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his neck, your whole body feeling weak. 

“I know baby, i'm not upset,” he kisses the top of your head, “I know it was only a joke,” 

“I don’t like it when you’re angry with me,” 

“You don’t?” he chuckles, his hand rubbing up and down your back. “I shouldn't have let you cum at all then huh,” 

“Okay, maybe I do kinda like it,”

🏷 taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez wanna be added to the taglist? send me an ask

[andy-15-07]

hey! saw request is open, can you write about pedro pascal having friends with benefits with reader for a while? and maybe with friends to lovers trope? thank youu!

More Than This

PAIRING:Pedro Pascal x reader

WORD COUNT: 2014 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The clinking of glasses and the low hum of conversation filled the dimly lit bar. (Y/N) swirled the ice in her drink, her gaze drifting across the room. She'd been coming here for months, ever since she'd met Pedro. Not met, exactly. More like… collided with. Literally. She’d been juggling a precarious stack of books, he’d been rushing to catch a friend, and the resulting crash had left them both sprawled on the floor, surrounded by scattered pages and apologies.

That awkward meet-cute had blossomed into an easy friendship. They’d discovered a shared love for old movies, spicy food, and long, rambling conversations that stretched late into the night. And then, one particularly wine-fueled evening, the conversation had taken a decidedly different turn.

“So,” Pedro had said, his eyes crinkling at the corners, “we’re friends, right?”

(Y/N) had nodded, a little breathless.

“Good friends?”

Another nod.

“Friends who… enjoy each other’s company?”

She’d laughed, a nervous flutter in her stomach. “I think that’s a fair assessment.”

“Okay, good,” he’d continued, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Because I have a proposition.”

And that’s how they’d ended up here, months later, navigating the tricky terrain of a friends-with-benefits arrangement. The rules were simple: no feelings, no expectations, just… fun. Easy, right?

(Y/N) chuckled to herself. Easy was definitely not the word she’d use.

Pedro arrived, sliding into the booth across from her. “Sorry I’m late,” he said, his smile warm. “Traffic was a nightmare.”

“No worries,” (Y/N) replied, her heart doing a little flip-flop at the sight of him. He looked good. Too good. His dark hair was slightly tousled, his eyes crinkled with amusement, and his smile… well, his smile was lethal.

They fell into easy conversation, catching up on their week, sharing jokes and stories. The laughter flowed, the air crackled with an undeniable chemistry. It was moments like these that made (Y/N) question the wisdom of their agreement. How could she not develop feelings for someone so charming, so funny, so… Pedro?

Later, back at (Y/N)’s apartment, the mood shifted. The playful banter faded, replaced by a charged silence. Pedro leaned in, his hand brushing against hers. A shiver ran down her spine.

“You know,” he murmured, his voice low and husky, “this is working out pretty well, don’t you think?”

(Y/N) swallowed, her pulse quickening. “It is,” she agreed, her voice barely a whisper.

His gaze locked with hers, and the air between them thrummed with unspoken desires. He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of her jaw. (Y/N) closed her eyes, savoring the touch. His lips were close, so close. She could feel his breath on her skin.

“Pedro…” she breathed, her voice laced with longing.

He hesitated, his eyes searching hers. And then, he pulled back slightly, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.

“Maybe I should go,” he said, his voice suddenly tight.

(Y/N) frowned, confused. “Go? Why?”

He shrugged, a nervous gesture. “It’s getting late. And… well…”

He trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished. (Y/N) stared at him, her heart sinking. Had she misread the signals? Had she crossed some invisible line?

“Okay,” she said, her voice flat. “Sure. Goodnight.”

Pedro nodded, a strange look on his face. He stood up, and with a brief, almost awkward, wave, he was gone.

(Y/N) was left standing there, alone in the quiet of her apartment, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. She was confused, hurt, and more than a little frustrated. What had just happened? And more importantly, what was going to happen next? Their agreement, so simple in theory, suddenly felt incredibly complicated. And (Y/N) had a feeling that things were about to get a whole lot messier.

The following days were a tightrope walk. They saw each other, but the easy flow of their interactions was stilted. The comfortable silences were now filled with unspoken tension. At a shared friend’s barbecue, (Y/N) watched Pedro from across the yard. He was laughing with someone else, but his eyes kept flicking back to her. The intensity of his gaze sent a shiver down her spine. It wasn’t the casual, friendly look she was used to. It was something… more.

Later that evening, as she was leaving, he caught her by the arm. “Hey,” he said, his voice low. “Can we talk?”

They walked a little away from the party, finding a quiet spot under a large oak tree. The air was cool and the stars were beginning to appear.

“About… the other night,” he began, his voice hesitant. “I… I wasn’t trying to blow you off.”

(Y/N) looked at him, searching his eyes. “Then what was it?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s… complicated. I… I felt something. Something real. And it scared me.”

(Y/N) understood. The vulnerability of real feelings was terrifying, especially when they were playing by rules designed to prevent exactly that.

“I get it,” she said softly. “It’s scary.”

He looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of longing and apprehension. “But… I don’t want to keep doing this dance. The… the ‘friends with benefits’ thing. It’s not working for me anymore.”

(Y/N)’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you want, Pedro?”

He stepped closer, the space between them shrinking. “I want… more,” he whispered, his voice husky. “I want to know you, really know you. Beyond… the benefits.”

(Y/N) held her breath. The air between them crackled with unspoken desire. She reached out, her fingers brushing against his cheek. He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes.

“Me too,” she whispered back.

He opened his eyes, his gaze locking with hers. He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, tentative kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of longing, of vulnerability, of the tentative beginnings of something real.

They pulled back slightly, their foreheads touching. “So,” Pedro said, a small smile playing on his lips. “What now?”

(Y/N) smiled back. “Now,” she said, “we figure it out.”

They spent the next few weeks doing just that. They went on real dates, not just late-night hookups. They talked for hours, sharing their dreams, their fears, their vulnerabilities. They discovered new things about each other, deepening their connection in ways they hadn’t expected.

One rainy Saturday, they found themselves at (Y/N)’s apartment, curled up on the couch, watching an old movie. The rain outside was coming down in sheets, creating a cozy atmosphere inside. Pedro reached out, his fingers tracing the line of her jaw. (Y/N) closed her eyes, savoring his touch.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, lingering kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of comfort, of intimacy, of a growing love. The kiss deepened, becoming more passionate, more urgent. His hands moved to her hair, his fingers tangling in the soft strands. Hers found their way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

The world outside faded away, and there was only the two of them, lost in the moment, consumed by their feelings for each other. The kiss broke, leaving them breathless and flushed. They stared at each other, the unspoken words hanging in the air.

“(Y/N),” Pedro whispered, his voice husky, “I…”

He trailed off, unable to articulate the depth of his feelings. (Y/N) smiled, understanding. She didn’t need words. She knew.

She reached out, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “I know,” she whispered back.

He leaned in again, his lips meeting hers in another kiss, this one filled with tenderness and longing. It was a kiss that sealed their fate, a promise of a future together.

The rest of the evening unfolded in a blur of whispered conversations, shared laughter, and the quiet intimacy of two souls finding solace in each other’s arms. The physical expression of their intimacy was implied, a natural progression of their emotional connection, a shared understanding that went beyond words. The details remained private, a sacred space shared only between them.

As the first rays of dawn peeked through the curtains, they lay entwined in each other’s arms, their hearts beating in unison. They had found something special, something real, something that transcended the boundaries of their initial agreement. They had found love.

And as they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s embrace, they knew that their story was just beginning. The road ahead might be filled with challenges and uncertainties, but they would face it together, hand in hand, heart to heart. For they were more than just friends. They were lovers, partners, soulmates. And their love story, like the best stories, was just beginning to unfold.

Weeks turned into months, and their relationship deepened with each passing day. They navigated the ups and downs of life together, supporting each other through thick and thin. They celebrated each other's successes and comforted each other during setbacks. They learned each other's quirks, their pet peeves, their secret dreams. They built a life together, a foundation of love, respect, and unwavering support.

One crisp autumn evening, they found themselves back at the bar where it all began. The same dim lighting, the same low hum of conversation, but everything felt different. They were different. They had grown, both individually and as a couple.

"Remember this place?" Pedro asked, his eyes twinkling.

(Y/N) smiled. "How could I forget? The scene of the great book collision of '22."

Pedro chuckled. "And the birthplace of our… unconventional arrangement."

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow playfully. "Unconventional is one word for it."

He reached across the table, taking her hand in his. "It was complicated," he admitted. "But it led me to you."

(Y/N) squeezed his hand, her heart swelling with love. "It was definitely worth the complications."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, simply enjoying each other's company. The easy camaraderie that had defined their early friendship had returned, but it was now infused with a deeper level of intimacy and understanding.

"You know," Pedro said, breaking the silence, "I've been thinking…"

(Y/N) looked at him, her eyes filled with anticipation.

He took a deep breath, his gaze locking with hers. "I've been thinking about the future. About… us."

(Y/N)'s heart pounded in her chest.

"I know we've only been together officially for a few months," he continued, "but it feels like… like I've known you forever. And I can't imagine my life without you."

He paused, his eyes searching hers. "(Y/N), will you… will you marry me?"

(Y/N)'s breath caught in her throat. Tears welled up in her eyes. She had dreamed of this moment, but she never thought it would actually happen.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "Yes, Pedro, I will marry you."

A wide smile spread across Pedro's face. He stood up, pulling her into his arms. He kissed her, a long, passionate kiss that spoke of love, commitment, and a future filled with happiness.

The bar erupted in applause, and they pulled apart, laughing and blushing. They were surrounded by well-wishers, offering their congratulations. But in that moment, they only had eyes for each other.

They had come a long way from their awkward meet-cute and their complicated "friends with benefits" arrangement. They had found love in the most unexpected of places, and they had built a relationship that was strong, resilient, and filled with joy.

As they left the bar that night, hand in hand, they knew that their story was far from over. It was just the beginning of a new chapter, a chapter filled with love, laughter, and a lifetime of happiness together. They had found their happily ever after, not in spite of their unconventional beginnings, but because of them. Their love story was a testament to the power of connection, the importance of vulnerability, and the enduring magic of finding your soulmate in the most unexpected of places. And as they walked off into the night, they knew that their love story, like the best stories, would continue to unfold, page by page, year after year, a testament to the enduring power of love.

[xoluvx]

lunch; b.eilish .˚₊✩ part one ✩₊˚.

i'm interested in more than just bein' your friend

"Are you sure you're not gay?" you joked shoving the brunette sitting next to you. She'd just reached over to double tap your screen on what was very clearly a thirst trap. In your defense, you were gay as fuck so beautiful women on your feed was not a rarity.

"I just appreciate beautiful women," your best friend shrugged with a 'don't blame me' look.

You locked your phone and let it fall somewhere on the couch turning to face her with a serious look on your face.

"No, but seriously..." your voice trailed off as your arm rested on the couch's back rest. Billie looked at you with those eyes anyone could easily get lost in. "Are you gay?" you asked again and she chuckled licking her teeth. The action caused her already plump lips to protrude a smidge more so who could blame you for letting your eyes linger on them a second too long.

"I don't think so," she stated. "I've rode more dick than I've seen vaginas," she added. You couldn't help but chuckle at that one. She was always a smart mouth.

"I'm your best friend, you know you can tell me anything right?" You took her hands forcing her to look at you. You stared into her eyes again and she stirred, furrowing her brows.

"Is this an intervention or what?" she joked opening her eyes wide, making a face that lightened the mood. She squeezed your hands before letting go.

"I'm just saying...it's okay to like boys and girls," you emphasized the girls part just for her.

You weren't trying to be pushy. Far from it. You were actually just trying to be supportive. You'd noticed the way her eyes lingered on certain girls before. You also noticed how intrigued she was whenever you told her about a hook-up. So your brain was naturally trying to fill in the gaps. And your gaydar was rarely wrong.

After a moment of silence, she cleared her throat.

"How would I know if I like girls?" she wasn't looking at you. She was twirling her practically empty cup. The smoothie you'd made her was mostly gone.

Your mouth fell open slightly and you swallowed. That was a good question. You'd never really questioned if you liked girls. You just saw them and your heart did that weird fluttering thing that you assumed was suppose to happen when you looked at a boy.

"Shit," you mumbled and shrugged. "I guessss," your voice trailed off and she finally turned to look at you as if you were going to let her in on a piece of information she'd been missing her whole life.

"I guess-," you started again scooting closer to her.

"You know you like girls-," you swallowed now touching her knee with your own. The slightest touch now made your heart beat faster. "-if they make your heart flutter," you stated watching her look at you with those beautiful blue eyes.

"If you feel like you're going to burst into butterflies-" your voice was low as you inched closer. Her own body leaned into yours curiously. "-when they touch you like this." Your finger traced the side of her face pushing a tendril of hair behind her ear.

"What else?" Billie's voice was shaky. Her hands were clammy from hearing your voice. There was a shift in the energy. Suddenly, your voice was the only thing she wanted to hear.

"You melt when they hold your hand," you added running your fingers down her arm until they were locked with hers. Billie watched your fingers entwined on her lap and the gravitational pull grew stronger.

Your faces were centimeters apart, eyes searching for answers. Answers to questions you weren't sure you should've been asking right now. Not with your best friend at least.

When your foreheads touched, you swallowed hard and Billie bit her lip.

"What are we doing?" you whispered closing your eyes feeling her nose brush your own. You didn't want to open your eyes. You didn't want this to be a dream. But you also weren't ready to ruin your friendship. You didn't want this to make things awkward.

"Teach me," Billie murmured.

Were you hearing correctly? Teach her? Your best friend. Teach her what? How to be gay?

"I want to know what it feels like," her voice was soft as she answered your unspoken questions.

"What what feels like?" your chest was rising and falling rapidly. You felt like the oxygen in the room was dwindling and the muffled murmuring of the tv playing in the background was now making your ears ring.

"To be with a girl," she replied. This time she swallowed hard and your lips brushed for a brief second. You pulled away abruptly getting up from the couch. You ran a hand over your face, inhaling deeply.

"I'm sorry," Billie stood up as well. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-" she was frantic. Did she just fuck up your friendship? She didn't mean to. She didn't want to lose you.

"Okay," you bit your lip nervously. "Okay, I'll teach you."

Billie's eyes lit up.

"Just don't go falling in love with me," you teased. Billie’s shoulders relaxed. She rolled her eyes, but pulled you in for a hug.

"I'm already in love with you," she joked. Her arms still wrapped tightly around you as your bodies tumbled onto the couch.

"Kiss me," Billie's voice was still laced with goofiness as she grabbed the back of your head playfully trying to kiss you. You laughed harder pushing her away teasingly. She peppered your face with kisses and you giggled. But that silly little flutter in your chest was still present.

It wouldn't be so bad. There was nothing wrong in helping someone figure out their sexuality, right? Especially your best friend. Who you loved and adored more than anything...

At least that's what you were telling yourself to justify how much you actually wanted this.

part two

.˚₊✩ masterlist ✩₊˚.

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch.6

WandaNat x Raeder

Word Count: 2.4k

Ch. Notes: Rising tensions

Summary: The after math of the fallout between Wanda and her family leads to an all too important business meeting the next day.

An: haha I didn't almost forget to post today... And don't hate me for the next chapter please

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

“What um… what number are you guys staying in? Do you know?”  You ask, finally breaking the silence as you arrived at the building.

“220,” Natasha answers for them.

You nod, “I’m in 216, we’ll be right across from each other.”

The ride in the elevator was as silent as the car ride. The anger that was permeating off of Wanda had slightly reduced, but not by much. When the elevator opens, you escort the women to their apartment.

You point across the hall then say, “Well this is you and that is me if you need anything you can always knock."

You attempt to walk away, but a soft grip around your wrist stops you.  Your gaze slowly rises to meet Wanda’s. She pulls you into her and the warmth of her embrace let’s you know that she’ll be alright.

“Goodnight little krolik,” she kisses the top of your head before making her way into her new home.

“She’s going to be ok right?” You ask Natasha and she smiles softly at you.

“I’ll make sure of it lisichka. Go rest, you've had an eventful day. “

Its like her words trigger a yawn from your lips. Exhaustion is finally catching up to you properly.

“Goodnight, Nat.”

Once you go into your condo you sigh. The quiet finally getting the best of you. Though you were exhausted your mind was racing. Car chase, Wanda, Natasha, dinner, it all hit you at once.  Despite your thoughts you attempt to get ready for bed.

Your phone buzzes on the nightstand as soon as your head hits the pillow. It’s a text from Dragos calling for a meeting tomorrow at 9am. You put the phone back down and shut your eyes. This would all feel easier to deal with in the morning.

When your alarm rings at 7 am, you are quick to shut it off. Your sleep had been restless, and you feel the previous nights events weighing heavily on your shoulders. Nonetheless you stumble out of your bed.

After you brush your teeth, you throw on a pair of sweats to get your morning run in before the meeting. Usually, you’d do a run followed by a more rigorous workout, but you were short on time.

Your mind is clear as you begin to run away from the condo. Your only thoughts are focusing on your breathing.

Gloom hadn’t yet left the city. Though it wasn’t raining yet you wouldn’t be surprised if it started up later. Traffic seemed light, not a lot of cars were passing you on the road. The cool air was welcomed against your face as your body temperature slowly rose with each stride.

For a small moment in time, you were at peace. Part of you wished to skip the meeting and just take a lazy day. However, that wasn’t an option because you didn’t work in a regular job field. The non-negotiables of your profession were few but harsh. While you knew the Maximoff’s were lenient with you, you never craved to take advantage of that.

When you arrive back to your building, you quickly shower and dress. You had just finished doing your hair when your doorbell rang. Opening the door, you are met by a familiar red head, who seems to be in a better mood than last night.

“Morning little krolik, I come with coffee and a bagel.”

You smile, “The occasion?”

“I was hoping we’d carpool to work.”

You nod a few times, “Of course, just let me grab my coat and we can head out.”

Quickly you grab your belongings and follow Wanda to her car. You quietly munch on the bagel during the car ride.

“No Natasha today?”

She shakes her head, “Papa is still unsure of her role in the company, so he doesn't want her at the meeting.”

“Speaking of Dragos, are you feeling any better from… yesterday?”

Wanda takes a deep breath. You see her hands clench around the wheel and her demeanor shifts slightly.

“I assume the meeting will further address what happened last night,” she speaks flatly.

“Wanda, you have to keep calm.”

You see her jaw clench, “I will reflect whatever mood is brought unto me.”

You shake your head, “You and I both know that nothing gets solved with that kind of behavior.”

“So, what, you want me to bow down and apologize?” The irritation in her voice doesn’t phase you.

“That’s not what I said. I’m saying you can’t get into a yelling match, and you can’t put your hands on anyone.”

“If they were honest with me from the beginning I wouldn’t have-"

You cut her off, “I didn’t ask for an explanation Wanda. I’m telling you something that I know you are already aware of. If you want to head this organization, you have to keep your emotions in check.”

She mumbles underneath her breath. You raise an eyebrow at her childish antics, “What was that?”

“I said, it’s easier to keep my emotions in check when the lies aren’t about you.”

You fumble with your words briefly before speaking, “Well I told you truth, didn’t I?”

“Yes, but- “

“Well, there you have it. If you want to know something about me, it’s best to ask me. However, if I tell you, and you don’t like what you hear you have to deal with that on your own time,” you glance at her.

She chuckles softly to herself, “I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to how much you’ve grown.”

You smile, but then it falters as you recall the argument from last night. Wanda had made Pietro and Dragos retreat instantly when mentioning something that revolved around you. You want to know what it is.

“Wanda, what are they hiding from me?”

You can visibly see the woman pale, “Do you trust me Y/n?”

You nod slowly.

She sighs, “When it’s the right time, I’ll tell you.”

You want to argue more, but you don’t. You trust Wanda, you know she has your best interests in mind. So, you fight the urge to be upset for the rest of the car ride.

When you get to the office, the two of you ride straight to the top floor. Dragos, Pietro, and Flora were already there. The room is tense as you both sit across from them. Usually you’d sit by Pietro’s side, but you weren’t going to let Wanda feel alone in this.

“You can disagree with me if you want, but your actions yesterday proved why keeping you in the dark about the situation with Y/n was the right thing to do. You’re hot-headed now, but back then you were even worse,” Dragos looks his daughter in the eye when he speaks.

You can feel the anger radiating off of Wanda’s body and for a moment you think she is going to have an outburst. Instead, she puts her elbows on the table and leans forward, never breaking eye contact with her father.

“We are a family and I thought that we agreed on having no secrets from each other. In this business a secret is the most dangerous weapon that could be used against us. My potential reaction aside, keeping this secret from me is breaking the rules you set in place. Or do the rules only apply to me?”

Wanda’s response was damn good in your opinion. Although she was angry you saw her hands clasping each other for dear life as a sign of restraint.

“Can we just move on from this? It was 5 years ago, and Y/n is fine now,” Pietro tries to defuse the tension.

Wanda shakes her head, “As much as this is about Y/n, it’s also about not respecting me enough to keep me properly informed about our family and our business. It’s unfair for you all to sit here and claim that I’m solely in the wrong. We can’t move on until all parties take responsibility for their part in this,” Wanda holds firm.

It's weird being in a meeting about yourself, but almost having nothing to do with anything being discussed.

“Have you ever considered the possibility that Y/n didn’t want us to tell you?” Dragos states and your body tenses.

“No,” Wanda says nonchalantly, as if his question was unimportant.

“What if she…”

Wanda’s glare hits her father like an ice pick to the back, “This isn’t a hypothetical, papa. If in some universe out their Y/n wanted you to keep it a secret from me, then that would be fine. However, this isn’t that universe, now is it Y/n?”

She doesn’t look at you, but you answer her question firmly, “No, it isn’t.”

“The best way to move forward from this is an apology from both sides. Wanda has just returned and we’ve dwelled on this matter for too long,” Flora stops the argument in it’s track.

You thought it was a civil solution. It would be for the best, but just by taking a quick glance at Wanda you can tell that she doesn’t want to apologize. It was her rigid posture and her hardened eyes. She felt like she did nothing wrong, but you were hoping she would stand down for the greater good.

“Wanda, I’m sorry we intentionally kept this from you. It is not the way we do things around here. Forgive me, docha,” Dragos speaks sincerely as he looks at Wanda.

She doesn’t seem to be budging. You make the judgment call by discreetly placing your hand on her thigh. This causes her to look in your direction and you speak to her with your eyes. Your features are telling her to apologize. You see her posture relaxes and her eyes soften a bit.

“I’m sorry for the way that I acted last night. It was uncalled for, regardless of my feelings,” she speaks with an equal amount of sincerity.

“Good, now that we’ve settled that I’m going to cut to the chase. Natasha, what assets does she bring to the table?” Dragos moves on to business fairly quickly.

Wanda follows his suit, speaking highly of her wife, “Natasha is a hands on kind of employee. She thrives being where the action is and that doesn’t just mean in a fight. She’s a highly trained assassin, her accolades are insurmountable, and there’s quite literally nothing that she can’t do.”

“She can start as head of security, and we can see what she can do from there,” Dragos offers, but even you think the role is undercutting Natasha’s abilities.

Wanda seems frustrated, but she is going to agree to these terms.

You speak up, “I think she should be in charge of field operations.”

“You and Pietro handle the field operations just fine, why add a third?” Dragos questions with curiosity not animosity.

“To avoid things like what happened yesterday with Mr. H. Right now, the way we operate is that Piet comes and gets me when needed and we just go from there. It’s not strategic at all, I’m usually in the car before I know what exactly it is that we’re doing,” you argue your position.

“It always works out,” Pietro fires back.

Your eyes lock on his, “But it could work better. With me running numbers for the company and for our business, I don’t always have the time to sit and plan out these operations. We all know that Piet doesn’t believe in planning. It’s field operations, it shouldn’t always just be Piet and me. We should have men out there with us incase things go south, but there’s never a plan for that.”

“And you think the addition of Ms. Romanoff will add…” Dragos leads off his sentence.

“She’s going to add structure and power by organizing this department into an actual department rather than just Piet and I doing deliveries in car. She’s experienced and we should be using that to our advantage, especially with us potentially being undercut at the moment.”

Dragos ponders, which is a good thing. It means he believes there is something to everything you’re saying.

“Give her a week on field operations and if you don’t see any type of benefit, she can be head of security,” Wanda offers a compromise.

“Only a week?” His disbelief is hidden in his voice, but you know it’s there.

“It’s all she needs,” Wanda says with confidence.

“Alright, that’s everything for today- “

“We’re not going to address the Kingpin situation?” You stay planted firmly in your chair.

Dragos sighs, “I will deal with Kingpin personally.  I had Kate set up a meeting at neutral territory.”

You shook your head knowing what Dragos was insinuating, “You’re trying to have a one-on-one meeting with this bastard? Everyone in this room knows that idea sounds like shit.”

“It’s not an idea, it’s happening in a few hours,” Dragos counters.

“Papa you’re going to have someone tailing you right? You don’t trust him to keep true to his word,” Pietro looks at his father in disbelief.

Dragos’s hand trails through his thick gray hair, “I’ve dealt with Kingpin before. I’ve known him for a long time, and I will be prepared for whatever he has coming.”

“Papa you can’t be serious?” Wanda has features akin to Pietro.

The arguing is about to continue, but then Flora speaks up, “Your father knows what he’s doing kids. Have some faith in him, he’s got a lot of experience for all of you. If he thinks this is the right call, then it has to be. Now, you’re dismissed.”

Suddenly there was no room for arguing with her. You try to keep calm but your feelings on the matter aren’t well hidden as you storm out of the room. Wanda and Pietro leave after you, both with the goal of trying to comfort you. However, their moods weren’t much better than yours.

When it was just the husband and wife in the office Flora let her nerves show. She was unsure about this plan. The lack of support from the group only heightened her anxiety for her husband’s well-being.

“You better prove them wrong Dragos. If anything were to happen to you I-"

The older man is gentle as he reaches for his wife’s hand, in the way he is always gentle with her. He places a kiss to the back of her palm, “Nothing is going to happen to me, moya lybov. I’m going to take car of this business and this family like I always have.”

Dragos wasn’t going to show his nerves. He never did, but to think they didn’t exist would’ve been ignorant. There wasn’t a reality that Dragos saw where the meeting went sideways. It had to go well, or a war would tear across the city. That thought protected him like a bullet proof vest. He was going to protect the industry he worked to build because that was the only option.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy

[your-nanas-house]

Fuck...ing mommy

◇ Pairing: Robert Fisher X Stepmom!Reader

◇ Warnings: SMUT, cowgirl, blowjob, handjob, p in v, boobies job, stepmom x stepson, kissing, age gap (Robert 25 and Y/n 39) mention of impotence and an unhappy forced marriage.

◇ Summary: After a mistake Y/n made things go pretty intense in the penthouse.

◇ Note: An AMAZING collaboration with @mrkdvidal1989 , a wild one. Hope you enjoy...👏.

It definitely wasn't a good day, at least not for Robert as he got out of the car, slamming the door out of anger. Maurice Fischer was in a horrible mood today, and he didn't have any issues with taking it out on his son. Whole day Robert had to deal with backhanded comments and getting called names on every minor mistake.

That’s why, as soon as his shift was over, he jumped into the car pulling off the parking lot as fast as he could. Fishing in his pocket for a card to enter the penthouse they were currently sharing because of the flood in his own apartment a couple levels lower.

The front door made a soft click noise as he entered, allowing him to enter and throw his suitcase on the couch with a deep sigh.

The silence echoing through the space was… unusual, but since it was one of the first times this year when he was home this early, he brushed it off. His stepmom was the usual one to keep the house, with her energy… she was probably busy, at that time, with the chores his dad had left her, so that was probably the reason because she wasn’t near the front door, ready to greet him at the entrance, offering something to eat and a small talk.

The young man sighed loudly, his frustration clear as he tried to free himself from the tie that was getting tighter and tighter in his mind. His coat hanging where it should, his rich shoes resting right beneath.

A scoff escaping his lips when he saw a crease in the tie his mom had gifted him on his 18th birthday.. he needed to fix it, quickly. With a steady and quick pace he walked to his father’s bedroom to grab the number of their trustworthy dry cleaner.

His mind was long gone in the worries concerning his participation in business, and repeating the stressful situations that happened that particular day, so he wasn't paying attention.

As he walked in the room, his light blue eyes on the floor while walking with a goal, a feminine and sensual voice brought him back to reality, making him freeze in place. “Home earlier, huh” the voice purred, attracting his gaze in a magnetic way.

His heart was beating like crazy at the view that he had in front of him… his stepmom was on all four, thin lacy lingerie “covering” the best parts of her mature and feminine body, Her ass sticking out, up in the air as the fabric of the thong, almost completely trapped between her round firm cheeks… her back arched in a delicious way, allowing her round big breasts to press against the soft mattress, the lacy red cloth rubbing slightly against the quilts as she wiggled her butt and that way all her body. Her nylon stockings hugging her long legs, stopping mid-thighs, held by her matching garters in a teasing but extremely seductive way.

“Been working all day, honey” she whispered, arching her back more. Robert’s body got more worked up as his eyes slowly widened and stared shamelessly at her, noticing the silky blindfold that covered her eyes… sinfully angelic, he thought.

“All day long for you” she interrupted his trance in a smooth, silky voice that caressed his mind in the most pleasurable way. It felt like… honey almost, buttery soft tone with a hint of desperation— a deadly combination which on top of the unusually delicious sight, made his mind go blank, and his cock hard at an alarming rate.

With good timing, almost like she knew what she was doing, Y/n smiled, biting her bottom lip while she slid smoothly down on the bed, her body flat against the mattress… her round, perky ass was so noticeable, even in that position.

“I think I deserve a little reward, don’t you agree?” she teased, making Robert’s gaze race back and forth from her barely covered body, to her beautiful face. Little reward? He chuckled internally. That poor lady, Robert thought as he remembered that she was sleeping with his old father.

I'd give you a huge one, his snug mind added, as his hard cock twitched in his pants.

The older woman rolled on her back slowly in a sensual way, her hands playing with her hair before she pushed her breasts together, tongue swirling over her plump lips.

”I need it. Now.” She breathed out, rolling over on her belly again. With the wine red blindfold still intact, she crawled upwards, towards the end of the bed.

Seeing that the situation was progressing with each second, Robert's mind tried to fight the desperate urge to just.. give her what she wanted, because he shouldn't.

Of course he shouldn't, after all it was his.. stepmother.

As soon as she reached blindly in the air, he couldn't help but not leave her hanging, he wanted to be a good stepson for her.

With one single step he closed the distance between the bed and his shins, as he stood right next to the bed.

With a hungry smile on her lips, she reached for his thighs, pressing her hands flat against the material of his expensive pants rubbing them up and down.

”Mmm I've been hungry all day.” She murmured softly, biting her bottom lip softly brushing her face against his clothed boner… her tongue daring to come out to lick the fabric of his suit pants, before rubbing her cheek against it… letting a purr escape her. Damn if he was lucky that she was so disgusted by his father to have to wear a blindfold behind the closed door of their bedroom.

Consequently a long desperate sigh left her lips, which were pressed against Robert’s lower stomach… After she pulled it out of the pants,(don’t like it) she reached for the button, opening it up with a swift move. Draping her little fingers over the band of his boxers, she slowly pulled them down with a smile.

A smile that quickly turned into confusion as a huge penis jumped out of the underwear, hitting her in the face. Knowing exactly how.. not well endowed Maurice was, her suspicions arose as she tried to wrap her hand around the massive girth, unsuccessfully.

Her blood run cold, she quickly got pale as worry and fear slapped her out from her horny state “Maurice-–” she murmured, her voice cracking due to all the emotions.

Robert shivered, his mouth softly open, as he thrusted unintentionally forward, his leaking tip touching her slightly open mouth, smearing his precum against her lips… making her hand tighten around his thick cock and her body jolting back.

Y/n quickly removed the blindfold to reveal her wide eyes

“ROBERT!” she exclaimed, jumping off the king size bed so that she could grab a robe and cover her half-naked self in pure panic and shock. “Oh my god, dear. I’m so sorry, I.. I thought it was your father” she quickly explained, blaming herself without hesitance.. her view of her stepson innocent, seeing him as too young for this kind of thing.

Robert opened his mouth, attempting to say something.. anything as he tucked his rock hard cock back into his pants in a rush, his eyes staring at her tongue which cleaned her lips from him.

As soon as he managed to do so, they heard a slam of the front door.

”I’m home!” Maurice yelled in that typical, grumpy and annoyed voice. This man was forever unsatisfied.

Hearing it, Robert looked Y/n the eyes again, shooting her last apologizing look before retreating from her bedroom, and rushing to his own bedroom.

Y/n was frozen, standing in her room and hugging herself lightly, trying to shake off the guilt of the fact that… she liked the view of her stepson with his cock in her hand.

Admitting easily to herself that it was the most exciting sexual encounter she had for the last few years, ever since she married her husband… and the way his dick felt in her hand, she thought before quickly shaking her head. I need to stop, she added internally before heading to the bathroom to take a shower, rubbing her temples while trying to think about the chores she had to do before the day would have ended.

~~~~

The morning after the older woman woke up like usual, she prepared breakfast for everyone, leaving it in the kitchen before starting to take care of the house like the good housewife Maurice wanted her to be.

She managed to clean up their bedroom and the bathroom before she started to gather around the dirty clothes around the house, a soft music following her as she walked around. Entering what was Robert’s childhood bedroom without any worries, confident it was empty since the time and her everyday life would suggest that he was at work as well, since Maurice was long gone… in all the years ever since she joined the Fischer family, it was the first time for her to live together with Robert.

So it came up as an extreme surprise when she found him still in bed, his hair a handsome mess, a sleepy expression on his face… one hand on his stomach and the other behind his head, a clear visible bulge covered by the blanket that was covering him.

“Oh gosh, sorry, darling. I thought you were already at work” she explained, focusing her eyes on the dirty laundry basket, not noticing her stepson’s lazy gaze traveling all over her body, taking in her outfit. Silky white shorts, a revealing almost see-through tank top that allowed him to see her bare chest under the white fabric… her hard nipples pressing against it.

Robert’s body getting more and more excited at the view, his already hard-rock cock twitching and leaking, almost wetting his pajama pants… luckily not the blanket as well.

“I’m here to take the dirty laundry, honey. Can you show—” she stopped mid-sentence, her eyes stopping on her stepson who was sitting on his bed, his morning-wood so deliciously noticeable now.

His veiny hands pulled up his shirt, revealing his muscular abdomen and hair path under the navel. As the shirt went up further, she couldn't tear her gaze away from his muscular pecs and smooth, broad shoulders.… short dark chest-hair peppering his upper chest in an almost aesthetic way. Y/n’s jaw fell slack, at the utter shock she felt.

In her eyes, he was always so… innocent. Delicate and broken.

The same man she saw as a boy… was now boldly looking her straight in the eyes with the confidence that made her feel intimidated. Something she hasn't felt… for a while.

Gulping the knot that formed in her throat, she kept staring even though Robert was witnessing her hungry gaze.

With one eyebrow raised in a cocky manner, Robert rose from his bed, standing a few feet across Y/n. Without a second of doubt, he pulled down his pajama bottoms, standing completely naked in front of a woman that should be… like a mother to him.

Y/n’s eyes were wide open, as the laundry basket fell to her feet. She wasn't able to hold it, not when that massive cock that she tasted not so long ago, stood proudly looking right into her eyes. The pink tip was leaking with a clear fluid as it throbbed slightly.

Robert picked his pajamas from the floor, coming closer as he handed it to Y/n looking down at her with a serious expression.

”There you go” he said in a low, raspy voice as his Adam's apple bobbed on his throat. He could see the hunger written all over her face, he just… needed to push a little further to make her take the first step.

Her eyes closed for a brief moment, she cursed under her breath while picking back up the basket, placing his clothes in it before trying to focus on something else… like the sock that “dropped” from the bushel.

The older woman shifted, bending automatically down to grab the piece of clothing and place it back in place… accidentally brushing Robert's erect cock with her round ass, earning a low grunt from him.

As the younger man shook softly because of the jolt of pleasure, Y/n's reacted immediately as the panic settled, making her turn around without thinking… so that she could check on her stepson, worried to have hurt him somehow.

“Oh gosh, sweetie, sor—” she tried to apologize, freezing as soon as the leaking organ slapped her across the face making her gasps softly…and Robert groan. He was so glad of her clumsiness.

Her eyes were blown out, her mouth slightly agape, while her body completely froze in place… the air making her notice the pre-cum which had painted her beautiful face.

“Shit, mama, are you trying to kill me or something?” Robert murmured under his breath, his big hand now holding the base of it as his heavy balls tightened visibly, getting her attention immediately.

Robert noticed it, a mischievous smirk appearing on his lips as he gripped it harder. ”Are you okay?” He asked with a hint of mockery in his voice.

It took her a moment to try to speak, words dying down her throat as she just hummed a confirmation… not really registering his question. Robert chuckled, seeing her state. He had the upper hand now.

His left hand slowly moved onto her head as she didn't move from the spot so close to him. His right hand stroked his length lazily as the other one caressed her hair gently, scratching her scalp softly.

”Do you need something, mum?.. huh?” he couldn't help but keep teasing, seeing her hungry eyes staring at his pulsing, veiny cock.

She glanced up, hearing the tone of his voice, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly before she finally spoke

“Seems like you're the one who needs something, eh… mommy doesn't like being mocked” she informed him, licking his angry red tip without warming— collecting the pre-cum that was threatening to drop. He didn't expect it, at all, and his head flew back immediately, followed by a hiss, due to the sudden sensation of her warm tongue on his sensitive tip.

”Fuck!” He spat out, grabbing a hold of her head.

His beautiful eyes fluttering shut as he felt the warmth of her mouth wrapped around him. His patience was basically non existent as he saw her, kneeling in front of him with his cock in her mouth. Robert’s hand pulled her head down, making her choke around his girthy member as he hit the back of her throat with each thrust.

His heart pounding inside of his chest as his hips speed up the pace, wet, slapping noises filling his bedroom in a sinful but delicious way. Robert couldn't tear his eyes away from the sight.

Y/n struggled to contain all of him in her throat, saliva dripping down her chin along with the tears that fell from her eyes. She was a mess, all because of him.

”That’s a good mummy” He hissed out, pulling her down and keeping all of his cock down her throat for a few longer moments.

Y/n silently prayed that he would let go of her head soon, as she couldn't breathe around his thick cock that filled up all of her throat to the brim. A musky, masculine scent hitting her nostrils since her nose got pulled against his pelvis… her chin making contact with his balls with each move, as he greedily kept pressing her against his body.

As time passed, her hands tried to claw his muscular thighs.. her nails digging in his pale freckled skin as a warning to let her go.

He finally got the message, pulling her away with a hiss as Y/n eagerly tried to catch a breath. His cock was a mess, completely covered with spit and throbbing. The red color showing how desperate he was for release.

”Get up” He commanded suddenly, grabbing a hold of her shoulders before pulling her up.

As soon as Y/n got on her feet and managed to clean her face, she came closer grabbing his jaw suddenly… making Robert’s eyes go wide in surprise.

”Look, sweetheart…” She started out before the other hand went to grab his needy cock.. a little too hard for his liking, causing him to wince.

”You won't tell me what to do, baby. I’m your mommy not your slut” she whispered into his ear, the grip on his member tightening even more. ”Got the message?” She asked with the sweetest mum voice she could pull off, making him nod obediently. ”Good boy” she praised softly.

As soon as the last words left her lips, she pushed him on his king sized bed, watching as he stared at her. Like she was the most beautiful thing on the earth.

Y/n smiled seeing it, as she undressed slowly, putting on a bit of a show. Before he knew it, she was straddling his thighs and stroking his pink cock with both hands.

Her touch was soft but determinate, she wanted something and was for sure going to get it…. To take it from him.

Robert's body was shaking in pleasure now, her teasing touch was driving him crazy… making his back arch and his breath go heavier.

“Y/n—” he hissed, making it sound almost like a curse or invite/suggestion to speed things up. Hearing it, she looked up angrily, one of her hands landing a harsh slap on his face.

”That wasn't right now, was it?” She asked, still stroking his dick. ”What do you call your mummy, Robert?” Her tone was so soft and gentle, that he almost believed her good intentions.

”M..mommy.” He repeated with a whine, making Y/n chuckle.

”Good boy” She praised, leaning down and kissing his tip. “Such.. a good boy” she hummed at the taste as soon as she licked her lips clean.

Her free hand wandered on her stomach… slowly up to her bare breasts to play with her nipples. Taking a small break from the handjob to focus on her own body, pinching and brushing her thumbs on her erect nipples… causing her back to arch and her hips to shift against Robert's.

Her eyes glancing down, meeting his amazed gaze before she leaned down her chest now hovering above his face in a teasing way.

His stare daring to move from her tits to her eyes, stretching his neck to reach her face as soon as he noticed her leaning in for a kiss… A long, passionate and sweet kiss that got more intense as she grinded her bare pussy against his cock.

It didn't last that long since the older woman was getting a bit impatient by the mere feeling of his responsive length.

“Getting mommy all wet, huh?” she whispered, biting her bottom lip, excited by the situation “Can you get your mama's titties wet too, honey?” she requested sweetly, lowering her chest so that he could reach it with his mouth.

The pressure her teeth were giving to her bottom lip increased as Robert attacked her swollen chest, hiding his face between what he was willing to call heaven so that he could wet them just as his mommy had requested him…. Licking, mouthing and spitting on them till she was satisfied enough.

Enough to move away and kneel down back on the floor, happy to rest her legs on a soft carpet instead of a cold floor. Her hands busy teasing her breasts close to his cock before finally squeezing it between them.

A hum left her body as she watched Robert react to her actions, bouncing with the thrusts he was giving as he fucked desperately her boobs.

“Mommy!” He whined, increasing his speed desperate for more, his balls now slapping against her tits every time he made them reach the base of his member.

“Yes, my good boy” she cooed, letting him hold her big breasts as he wanted, so that she could reach his balls with her small hands, playing around with them while her eyes watched his cock appear and disappear between her chest.

Her eyes closing quickly and her mouth opening as he shuttered, thrusting up his hips before freezing completely.. shooting his load on her face and boobs, earning a soft hum of approval from her.

Robert was panting, his eyes still blown out at what just happened. Y/n watched him with a grin as she scooped up some cum with her fingers, before shoving them in her mouth with a hum.

”Fucking naughty” Robert scoffed with a smile, watching her.

With her actions, it didn't take a long time for him to grow hard again, and Y/n wasn't shy about watching the whole process. Her gaze didn't falter for a moment as she stared at his cock growing harder, bigger with each passing second before he was ready again.

I missed it, she thought, thinking of how long it always took for Maurice to get ready, if she was lucky enough that he'll.. get ready at all, that is.

Robert’s hands remained above his head as he watched her get up, rubbing her clit lightly with a quiet purr. Coming closer, she threw her leg over his, straddling his lap while grabbing his cock in her small hand, stroking it again. He was still quite sensitive, so he hissed quietly at the sensation.

”Fuck.. give me a moment, mommy” He asked, but Y/n just shook her head, lining him up with her slick entrance.

”I waited long enough.” She responded almost arrogantly with a smile, as she slammed down taking all of his impressive length into her tight heat with a loud moan.

Her back arched at the sensation, she could feel him filling her up completely, a bulge present in her lower stomach. “So big, baby” she moaned out impressed, squeezing her walls teasingly around his cock, earning a low desperate moan from him.

“So-fucking-big” she murmured through gritted teeth, bouncing hard at each word “Want to…feel you deep balls inside of me, baby!” she quickly added, rolling sensually her hips with the goal to reach her own peak.

Her smaller hands resting on his abs before moving in a teasing pace up to his pecs… remaining there for support, so that she could finally bounce wildly on his length. Accepting the stretching feeling and the pain mixed to a pleasure she didn't feel in ages.

“Fucking hell” she cursed, her ass smacking against his thighs at every rough and fast bounce— her breasts following the movements of her body, moving in a hypnotic way, making her look like a tiny angel who was there to ride the sin out of him or so was Robert's view of that moment.

They both missed the sensation of passionate sex, and the thrill of the “taboo” to all of it was just an addition.

He so desperately wanted to wrap his bruised lips around her nipples, suckling on them like a needy infant… burying his cock deeper inside of her cunt, railing it till they would have both reached their peaks. He was quite sure that his father never gave her an orgasm before, and even if he did, it wouldn't come close to the one HE would have given her now.

”So… beautiful” He breathed out with half-closed eyes as he kept moving, trying to spend all of his cum inside her as soon as his climax started to hit his whole body, making his muscles relax under her touch.

His eyes rolled back as she continued to bounce, milking his cock as another orgasms built up not long after.

His hips shuttered upwards and his hands grabbed her hips, rolling her in a quick motion with the back against the mattress so that he could fuck his cum deep inside of her sensitive pussy making her squirm. His head was buried in her breasts all along, even as he kept pumping.

The pleasure so strong that Y/n didn't pay attention to her top half enough to notice.

Only after a couple minutes, Robert slowed down to a stop, laying on top of her with his mouth still attached to her hardened nipples as he kept sucking.

Y/n sighed deeply in satisfaction, looking down at him with a grin and cocked eyebrow.

”Well… are you hungry, baby?” She asked with a giggle, patting his head. Robert tilted his head to the side, laying on her breasts with a cute little smile.

”Mhmmm.” He hummed softly.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @mrkdvidal1989

[r-memberme]

shouldn’t be here | k.m

⎯⎯ “Loving you is the only thing in my long, cursed existence that has ever felt easy. The only thing that’s ever made sense.”

warnings: light angst and light fluff

It was one of those rare, still nights in New Orleans, where the hum of the city seemed to pause, holding its breath as if the universe was waiting for something to shift. Klaus sat in his study, a half-finished canvas propped in front of him, the brush in his hand poised mid-stroke. The painting was chaos—streaks of crimson and shadow twisting in violent harmony. It reflected his mood perfectly: restless, unsettled, longing.

He hadn’t seen you in weeks, not since your last fight. Not since he’d let his temper get the better of him and said things he didn’t mean. He hated himself for it. For the way he’d watched your face crumble and your voice crack as you told him you needed space.

And so, he’d given you space. It was the one thing Klaus Mikaelson was terrible at—waiting. But for you, he would endure it. He would endure anything.

The quiet knock at the door shattered his thoughts. Klaus froze, his heart thundering as though it recognized something before his mind could catch up.

When he opened the door, there you were.

You looked tired, rain-slicked and windswept, but so achingly beautiful that his breath caught in his throat. You didn’t speak right away, your eyes searching his face as if you were trying to decide whether you were ready to confront the man who had the power to break you, even as he tried so hard to piece you back together.

“I shouldn’t be here,” you said finally, though you didn’t move to leave.

“Perhaps not,” Klaus replied, his voice quiet, his accent curling around the words like silk. “But you are, and that’s enough.”

Your lips pressed together, frustration flickering across your features. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

He smirked faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ve been told.”

You sighed, stepping into the room and brushing past him. The scent of rain and something distinctly you filled the air, and Klaus’s hands clenched at his sides to keep himself from reaching for you.

“I needed time,” you began, your back to him as you looked around his study. Your gaze landed on the unfinished painting, the jagged chaos of it, and you frowned. “And you gave it to me.”

“Because I knew you needed it,” he said, his voice low. “Even if it tore me apart.”

You turned to face him, arms crossed over your chest. “Why do you always do this?”

“Do what?”

“Say things like that. Things that make me feel like…” You trailed off, shaking your head.

“Like what?” he pressed, stepping closer.

“Like I can’t breathe when I’m not with you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Like leaving you was the worst mistake I’ve ever made.”

His eyes softened, and for the first time in weeks, a flicker of hope sparked in his chest. “Then don’t leave again,” he said simply.

You let out a soft laugh, one that held more pain than humor. “It’s not that simple, Klaus.”

“It is,” he insisted, closing the space between you. “You and I, we are not simple, love. We never have been. But that doesn’t mean we’re not meant to be.”

You looked up at him, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. “How do you always make it sound so easy?”

“Because it is,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Loving you is the only thing in my long, cursed existence that has ever felt easy. The only thing that’s ever made sense.”

You shook your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. “You hurt me, Klaus.”

“I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for it, if you’ll let me.”

The silence that followed was heavy, the kind that carried the weight of unspoken truths and unhealed wounds. But then you stepped closer, your hand reaching out to touch his cheek, and the world seemed to shift.

“I missed you,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

Klaus closed his eyes, leaning into your touch like it was the very air he needed to survive. “And I, you.”

When he opened his eyes, they were filled with a tenderness that made your knees weak. “Stay,” he whispered. “Not because I need you to, though I do. But because I think you need it too.”

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you stood on your toes, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that was soft and searching, as if you were testing the waters of something fragile and new.

When you finally pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, your tears mingling with his breath. “I don’t know how to stop loving you,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

“Good,” Klaus said, his voice raw. “Because I don’t know how to stop loving you either.”

The storm outside raged on, but within the walls of the Mikaelson compound, there was only warmth. And for the first time in weeks, Klaus felt something he hadn’t dared to feel in centuries: hope.

i wouldn't stop loving him either

[s4svnn]

Limelight . JJK oneshot (2)

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; After five years of chasing her dreams abroad, Iris returns to her small hometown, eager to embrace a fresh start with a new degree and a quiet apartment. But the peace she craves is quickly shattered by the relentless sounds of punches and grunts echoing from the apartment next door. What starts as a tense confrontation soon sparks a fiery chemistry neither of them expected as she comes face to face with her high school crush, now a determined, world-renowned boxer. As their paths cross once more, Iris can't help but wonder if this unexpected encounter might lead to a chance at the love she once thought was out of reach.

↳ pairing; Boxer Jungkook x reader

↳ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬; completed | All rights reserved 

↳ strangers to lovers, rekindling old flames, fluff

Kofi

Previous part

Part Two

I made my way to his door, my hands slightly clammy as I knocked. I shifted my weight back and forth on my heels, the nerves bubbling up despite my determination to appear calm. The door opened after a moment, and there he stood, cigarette dangling lazily between his fingers, an expression of mock surprise plastered across his face.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone laced with feigned innocence.

I crossed my arms, leveling him with a look. “Why are you acting as if you didn’t just invite me over two minutes ago?”

His lips curved into a slow, smug smirk, and he leaned casually against the doorframe. “Maybe I wanted to see how serious you were about showing up.”

“Well, I’m here,” I shot back, brushing past him into the apartment without waiting for an invitation. “So, what now?”

He chuckled, shutting the door behind me. “Someone’s in a mood,” he teased, taking a drag from his cigarette before exhaling a thin stream of smoke. “Relax, will you?”

I glanced around his apartment, it was just as chaotic as I expected: clothes draped over the back of the couch, empty coffee mugs scattered across the table, and a faint haze of smoke lingering in the air. It was exactly the kind of space that fit him, messy but oddly comfortable.

“Did you clean up just for me?” I asked dryly, raising an eyebrow.

He laughed as he flopped onto the couch, one arm slung over the back. “Nah. Didn’t want to ruin the authentic experience for you.”

I shook my head, leaning against the armrest of the couch but keeping a little distance. “Right. Wouldn’t want that.”

He studied me for a moment, his gaze sharp but unreadable. “You’re still standing. You nervous or something?”

“Nervous?” I repeated with a scoff. “Please.”

“Then sit down,” he said, patting the empty spot next to him. When I didn’t move, he smirked again, tilting his head. “You scared you might like it here?”

I rolled my eyes but sat down anyway, careful to keep a little space between us. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told,” he said with a grin, blowing out another stream of smoke. “But you’re here anyway.”

I looked at him, trying to decipher what game he was playing. But there was something in his tone, something unguarded, that made me pause.

“What’s your angle?” I asked finally.

“My angle?” he repeated, leaning back with an exaggerated air of offense. “Can’t a guy just want some company without being accused of scheming?”

“You? No. Not a chance,” I said, my voice dripping with skepticism.

He laughed again, the sound low and warm, and for a moment, I forgot why I was trying so hard to keep him at a distance. “Alright, you got me,” he admitted, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table. “Maybe I just like messing with you.”

“And maybe I’m starting to regret coming here,” I quipped, though my tone was softer than I intended.

“Liar,” he said, his voice dropping just a little. “You’re curious about me. Admit it.”

I didn’t respond right away, and the silence between us stretched. He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees as he looked at me, his expression a little more serious now.

I didn’t want to admit it, but he was right—I was curious. Curious to see if he was still the same guy I’d had a crush on all those years ago, or if time had turned him into someone completely different. But instead of saying any of that, I deflected, asking my own question to steer the conversation somewhere else.

“Why the hell are you up at stupid hours boxing?” I asked, leaning back on the couch, my arms crossed.

He raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a small smirk. “Are you pretending not to know, or are you really this clueless?”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “What are you on about?”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Nothing. Forget it,” he said, his tone dripping with amusement. Then, as casually as ever he added, “I’m a professional boxer.”

I blinked, pretending to be caught off guard despite having looked him up just a few hours before. “Wait. What?” I asked, leaning forward. “You’re serious? Like, you actually get paid to fight people?”

“Yeah,” he said, stretching out on the couch, looking completely unbothered. “The gloves, the ring, the bright lights. That’s me.”

I tilted my head, still processing. “You don’t look like a professional anything,” I said, glancing over at the ashtray and the mess around the apartment. “Never mind a boxer.”

He smirked, clearly entertained. “Well, thanks for the vote of confidence. But yeah, it’s my job. Fights, training, all that. The late nights are just part of it.”

“Why at night, though?” I pressed, still trying to wrap my head around it. “Why not train during the day like a normal person?”

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and for the first time, his tone lost some of its teasing edge. “Because at night, it’s quiet. No distractions, no people around. Just me and the bag, or the ring, or whatever. It’s the only time I feel...clear.”

I paused, taken aback by the sudden honesty. “Clear?” I asked softly.

“Yeah,” he said, sitting back again. “It’s just me. No noise, no expectations, no one telling me what I should or shouldn’t be. I can just focus. On the work, on getting better, on what’s next.”

I looked at him for a moment, really looked at him. He seemed different now, not so much the arrogant, cocky guy I’d always known, but someone more complex, someone I hadn’t fully figured out yet.

“Well,” I said finally, breaking the silence, “I guess that’s not the worst way to spend your time.”

“Oh?” he asked, his smirk returning. “I’m glad I have your approval.”

“Don’t push it,” I shot back, though there was a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips.

He laughed, leaning his head back against the couch, the sound deep and unguarded. For a moment, the room felt lighter, as if we’d settled into some unspoken understanding. Then he turned his head toward me, his smirk softening into something more curious.

“So, what’s a girl like you doing here? Living alone in a place like this?”

I blinked, caught off guard by the question. “What do you mean, a girl like me?”

“You know,” he said, gesturing vaguely in my direction. “You seem like the kind of person who’d have a ton of friends around, maybe a roommate or two. Not someone who spends their nights alone in a quiet apartment.”

I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes at him. “And what exactly do you think you know about me?”

He shrugged, but his gaze didn’t waver. “Not as much as I’d like to,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. “But you don’t strike me as the loner type.”

I hesitated, his words digging into a part of me I wasn’t sure I wanted to share. “Maybe I just like my space,” I said finally, keeping my tone light.

“Or maybe,” he countered, leaning forward slightly, “you’ve gotten used to being alone even when you don’t want to be.”

His words hit harder than I expected, and I felt a flicker of defensiveness rise in my chest. “What are you, some kind of armchair therapist now?” I asked, crossing my arms.

He smiled faintly, unbothered by my tone. “Just making an observation. Tell me I’m wrong.”

I opened my mouth to argue but stopped. I couldn’t tell him he was wrong—not completely, anyway.

Instead, I looked away, letting the silence stretch between us. “It’s not that simple,” I muttered.

“It never is,” he said quietly, his voice softer now.

I glanced back at him, surprised to find that his usual cocky demeanor was gone, replaced by something that looked almost... understanding.

After a beat, he leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on his knees. “But seriously, why this town of all places?

I froze for a moment, my heart skipping a beat. Why this town? He’d asked it so casually, but the question hit me like a brick. I felt my chest tighten, a wave of panic bubbling just beneath the surface.

Because the truth was, I couldn’t tell him. If I admitted I grew up here, it would open the door to a conversation I wasn’t ready to have. He’d start asking questions—questions about school, about my life back then—and it wouldn’t take long for him to realize we’d gone to the same high school. And the moment he pieced it together, he’d also realize that he had no memory of me. None. Because why would he? I was practically invisible back then.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to keep my expression neutral. “Why not this town?” I said, keeping my tone light, casual.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “That’s not an answer,” he said, his lips curving into a small smirk. “Come on, what’s the story? Job? Fresh start? Or did you just randomly pick this place on a map?”

I laughed nervously, shifting in my seat. “Something like that,” I said, avoiding his gaze. “It’s…quiet, I guess.”

“Quiet, huh?” he repeated, leaning back again, still watching me like he was trying to read between the lines. “Doesn’t really seem like your style.”

“And what exactly do you think my style is?” I shot back, more defensive than I meant to be.

He shrugged, his smirk softening. “I don’t know yet,” he said simply. “That’s why I’m asking.”

I let out a breath, forcing a small smile. “Well, there’s not much to figure out. It’s just a town. A place to live. That’s all.”

He studied me for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if he could sense I wasn’t telling the whole truth. But thankfully, he didn’t push any further. Instead, he leaned back, letting his head rest against the couch again.

“Fair enough,” he said, his tone easy again. “Guess I’ll just have to keep asking questions until I figure you out.”

I rolled my eyes, though my heart was still racing. “Good luck with that,” I muttered, hoping he couldn’t tell how relieved I was to dodge the conversation.

Because the last thing I needed was for him to realise I was the same girl who used to sit in the back of the classroom, too shy to even look in his direction.

He let out a low chuckle, one that was far too smug for my liking. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ve got time. Plus you’re not as much of a mystery as you think.”

I raised an eyebrow, masking my nerves with mock annoyance. “You’re awfully confident for someone who knows nothing about me.”

“Nothing?” he repeated, pretending to look offended. “I know plenty already.”

“Oh, really? Like what?”

He smirked, leaning forward again, his elbows resting on his knees as he gestured lazily toward me. “Well, for starters, you’re defensive as hell. Like you’ve got walls up higher than that building across the street.”

“Wow,” I said dryly. “You should quit boxing and become a therapist.”

“Hey, I’m just calling it like I see it.” He grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “You act tough, but you’ve got this… thing about you. Like you’re carrying something heavy and trying to make sure no one sees it.”

His words hit too close to home, and I looked away, focusing on a crack in the coffee table. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I muttered.

“Maybe,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “But you’re not exactly hiding it, either.”

I shifted uncomfortably, desperate to change the subject before he could dig any deeper. “What about you, then?” I asked, throwing the spotlight back on him. “If you’re such an expert on me, let’s hear something about you.”

“Me?” he said, his smirk widening. “I’m an open book.”

“Yeah, right,” I shot back. “All I’ve learned so far is that you box, you smoke too much, and you think you’re way more charming than you actually are.”

He stretched his arms behind his head, his gaze drifting off as if he were replaying old memories in his mind. “Well, I grew up here,” he said casually, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Born and raised. Went to Ridgeview High, right on the other side of town. You know it?”

My stomach twisted, but I managed to nod, keeping my expression neutral. “Yeah, I’ve heard of it,” I said lightly, like it was just another random high school.

He grinned, clearly enjoying the trip down memory lane. “Man, that place. It felt like I was at the center of the universe back then. I was captain of the football team. We had a killer run my senior year—undefeated in the regular season. Everyone was hyped. The stands were packed every Friday night. We were basically celebrities,” he said with a laugh, his voice full of pride.

He leaned forward slightly, gesturing with his hands as he spoke. “You couldn’t go anywhere in town without someone knowing who you were. Teachers, parents, even random people in grocery stores—they all knew our names. I’d walk into school, and it was like… I don’t know, like I owned the place.”

I tilted my head, pretending to be intrigued. “Really? Sounds like you were living the dream.”

“Oh, I was,” he said, leaning back again with a grin. “There were pep rallies, team dinners, parties almost every weekend. And after we won the state championship everyone wanted to be part of the team’s circle. It was like being in some exclusive club.” He glanced at me, his smirk widening. “Not to brag or anything, but, yeah… I was kind of a big deal.”

I forced a small laugh, acting like I was hearing all of this for the first time. “Wow,” I said, widening my eyes slightly. “That’s… impressive. Captain of the football team, state champ, popular… You had the whole package, huh?”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “What can I say? I peaked early.” His tone was teasing, but there was a hint of nostalgia in his voice, as though part of him missed those days more than he’d admit.

“And this town?” he continued, gesturing vaguely toward the window. “Back then, it felt so alive. The whole place revolved around football season. Every diner, every corner store—they’d put up signs with our names on them. ‘Go Ridgeview Panthers!’ and all that. Even now, when I drive by the old field, I get this weird feeling, like I’m still that kid everyone was cheering for.”

I nodded, keeping my face calm even as my chest tightened. I already knew all of this—every detail. I’d heard the chants at the games, seen his name written on posters in the hallways, watched him from the sidelines like everyone else. But, of course, he didn’t know that. He didn’t know I was even there.

“That sounds incredible,” I said, carefully feigning surprise. “I mean, it’s kind of the classic high school experience, right? Like something out of a movie.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, leaning back and resting his arms along the top of the couch. “It was. I mean, not everyone gets that kind of high school experience. I know that. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything. It made me who I am, you know?”

I nodded again, my pulse quickening. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

He tilted his head slightly, narrowing his eyes as he studied me. “But you…You don’t really strike me as the type who’d be into all that.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, keeping my tone light, though my heart was racing.

“I mean…” He paused, that damn smirk tugging at his lips. “You just seem different. Like maybe being in the spotlight wasn’t really your thing.”

I forced a laugh, glancing away as I scrambled for a believable response. “Oh no, I was definitely the football and cheerleaders type back at my old high school. Totally into sports and all that.”

“Really?” he said, raising an eyebrow, his chuckle deep and skeptical. Then, just as quickly, his expression shifted—his smirk softened into something sharper, his dark eyes locking onto mine with unsettling precision.

“Yep, that was me.”

“You know,” he said slowly, his voice dropping to a low, teasing drawl, “you didn’t really strike me as a liar, Iris.”

My breath hitched, and I blinked at him, my mind racing. “What?” I said, my tone a little too defensive.

“You heard me,” he said, leaning back slightly, his smirk reappearing. “You’re not exactly convincing when you’re making stuff up. The whole football and cheerleaders thing? Not buying it.”

I narrowed my eyes, my stomach flipping. “And what makes you think I’m lying?”

He shrugged, but his gaze stayed locked on mine, unwavering. “Did you think I wouldn’t remember you.”

My chest tightened, my breath catching as his words sunk in. “Remember me?” I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” he said, his tone almost casual now, though his smirk had turned into something more knowing. “You didn’t think I’d figure it out, did you?”

I stared at him, my face growing hot. My mind raced, trying to process what he was saying and how he could possibly know who I was. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “You’re bad at this, you know.”

“Okay, seriously,” I said, forcing myself to sound calm even as my pulse thundered in my ears. “What are you talking about?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied me. “I’m talking about the fact that we went to the same high school. You know, the one I just spent the last ten minutes bragging about.”

I froze, every muscle in my body locking up.

“You remember it, don’t you?” he continued, his voice softer now, almost curious.

“I—” I started, but my voice cracked. I quickly cleared my throat, forcing a laugh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t grow up here.”

His smirk widened, like he could see right through me. “Really? Because I’m pretty sure I remember seeing you around. Quiet girl, always sitting in the back of the class. Didn’t talk much, but…” He trailed off, tilting his head as if he were piecing something together. “Yeah, I remember now. You always had your nose buried in a book or something.”

I felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. He did remember. And somehow, that made it worse.

“You’re imagining things,” I said quickly, trying to brush it off. “That wasn’t me.”

“Hmm,” he said, his tone amused. “If you say so.” But the way he was looking at me—like he’d just uncovered a secret I hadn’t meant to reveal—made it clear he didn’t believe me for a second.

The real question lingered, heavy and unnerving—how did he know who I was?

[theemporium]

Oh, please write for Mat! What about something fluffy with surprising the partner at home?

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

You were dragging your feet by the time you reached your apartment after work.

The exhaustion you felt went beyond lack of sleep and long days, it was set deep in your bones and made every part of your body feel ten times heavier than usual. Everything felt harder than usual. From falling asleep at night to getting up in the morning, from focusing in classes to paying attention during your shifts, from just pushing your body to work on some twisted sense of routine that made you feel like you were a robot completing tasks to the fact you hadn’t felt like yourself in a while.

It was tiring, it was exhausting and you didn’t know what to do about it. And coming home to a completely empty apartment didn’t help settle the unease in your chest, the one that had been bubbling since Mat left for a roadie over a week ago. 

However, being on the other side of the country only put a damper on your already shitty mood. By the time you could manage a conversation over message or call, it was late for you and you were fighting to keep your eyes open, even if you knew you would inevitably be tossing in your bed for a few hours trying to fall asleep. Though, you never did sleep well when Mat was gone.

Despite every cell in your body screaming for you to forget dinner and curl up in bed with the hopes that you could manage more than a few hours of sleep for your first day off in almost two weeks, you knew there was still so much buzzing in your mind for you to do and you didn’t even think the comfort of being home would help. 

You were so lost in your thoughts that it took three attempts before you managed to slot the key into the lock, turn the handle and shuffle inside. You hadn’t even acknowledged the extra pair of shoes by the door or noted the bag dumped a few feet away. 

You didn’t even catch on to any of it until you lifted your head and found Mat standing there, dressed in a pair of sweatpants and hoodie, with his arms spread open and a massive grin on his face as he stared right back at you. 

“Surprise!”

You blinked, your brain unable to even process the sight in front of you.

“We decided to take a late night flight because the early morning one got cancelled so we came home early,” Mat explained as he closed the distance between you, grinning at your silence thinking you were just shocked. “Couldn’t wait to get home to my girl.”

The second he was close enough, Mat wasted no time in winding his arms around your waist and tugging you close until you practically fell into his chest. He grinned down at you, so giddy and happy to just be back home with you that it took a few seconds before he noticed your silence, before he noticed the dark circles under your eyes and the glaze over your eyes like you weren’t fully focused, like you were disassociating. 

“Oh baby,” he murmured, his voice softer and quieter as he raised his hand to gently cup your face, to let his thumb brush over the apple of your cheek as your body instinctively sagged against his touch. 

“M’just a little tired,” you tried to wave him off, but this was Mat. This was Mat who wasn’t just your boyfriend but your best friend, the one who saw right through your bullshit and bad excuses. “I’m glad you’re home. I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he murmured, his lips twitching upwards before he leaned down to place a soft, lingering kiss on your lips. “And I’m glad I’m home too, can take care of my girl like she deserves.”

You sighed. “Mat—”

“Let me take care of you, baby,” he whispered, a glint in his eyes that made your heart race in your chest. “Please.”

“Just hold me.” You hated the way your voice cracked as you spoke. “I just really missed being in your arms.”

His grip on you instantly tightened as he brought you closer, as he wrapped his arms around you and hugged you close until your cheek was pressed against his chest, the smell of his hoodie so comforting and so him. It was overwhelming in the best way possible.

“Always,” he answered as he pressed another kiss along your hairline. “How about ordering from that Thai place you like?”

“I thought you hated it,” you mumbled into his shirt.

“I like some of it,” he argued weakly but you could hear the smile in his voice. “Tonight is your choice. Tomorrow we can order something obscene I like that will make the trainers cry.”

You laughed lightly, and the sound made his grin widened. “Deal.”

“Good, now go get changed into something comfy,” Mat murmured as he pulled you away from his chest, lightly pushing you in the direction of your shared bedroom. “M’gonna put on that show you like.”

“And you won’t get offended when I ogle Damon Salvatore?” You questioned, mostly teasing as you took a few steps backwards.

Mat rolled his eyes, but still smiled as he placed his hand over his heart. “Scout’s promise, baby.” He paused for a moment. “Even if I’m much hotter than him.”

“No doubt about it, baby.”

.

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 9]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

Words: 4.8k

"Matt…how did you know where the window is?"

The words leave your lips and the entire mood of the apartment shifts. Matt's frame stiffens and fear begins to course through you. 

If the answer to the question was simple, he'd have no reason to react like he got caught in a lie, but that is exactly what he is doing. His posture is screaming that he knows you've realized something you shouldn't have, and it scares you. It scares you so much because you don't want Matt to be someone you can't trust. 

You want so so badly to trust him. Everything was going so well, and you don't want it to be ruined so early. You haven't prepared your heart for that disappointment and instinctively you wrap your arms around yourself to stave off any potential pain. 

"I can explain," Matt says, voice quiet and on the edge of pleading. He's looking at you with his own fear on his face and it triggers you to step back and away from him.

People have told you before that they can explain - that you are in the wrong for simply not understanding them - and it always ends with you hurt. So, you close your eyes and duck your chin to your chest and brace yourself for the metaphorical blow, whatever it may be. 

But there is only silence.

No more than a minute of nothingness passes, but it feels like an eternity. You force your eyes open and are shocked to see Matt looking absolutely devastated. Instead of standing tall and confident in himself, like you are so used to seeing, he has completely deflated. His shoulders are slumped and his head hung. You can practically feel the self hating energy coming off of him - it is something you are so familiar with. 

Guilt pools in your belly. You can't hurt him because of your distrust of others and past experiences - he's given you no reason to think anything he's doing is malicious or only self serving. 

So, you take the ball back into your court, squeezing your eyes back shut and taking a deep breath before asking, "should…should we sit?"

You hear him inhale sharply and you really, really hope you are doing the right thing. 

"Please?" 

He sounds like he's trying to not beg, and the knot forming in your stomach squeezes around your heart. 

"Can we sit on the couch?" You ask, motioning to it. You finally allow yourself to look at him again to see him nod. You lick your lips and hesitantly add, "it's about five feet to your left," before going to sit yourself. By the time you are sitting, Matt is at the back of the couch and moving around the side to sit next to you. You watch as his fingers brush along the back and arm, too anxious to dare to look at his face or the giant lasagna stain on his chest. 

You let him settle before asking again, in a calmer tone, "How did you know where the window was? And that it was open?"

You feel so accusatory, but he's told you before he has absolutely no light perception and in the panic of the moment, he closed the window without any hesitation or confusion. 

He rubs his hands over his knees before removing his glasses and setting them on the coffee table. He then leans back into the couch, while turning to face you, and to be respectful, you turn so you are facing him, though you keep your eyes down cast to your lap. 

"I was a child when I lost my eyesight," he starts slowly, and you try to keep your stomach from clenching. "And whatever it was that got in my eyes, it enhanced my other senses. It took what remained and pushed them past what normal people should be able to do. I could hear conversations from blocks away. I could figure out what people had for lunch the day before by the smell still in their breath. I could feel what was happening around me, based on air movement on my skin. And now…. Now I can…I can use all of that, all those inputs, to act as kind of a 3D map to determine things. Like a sonar, but instead of just sound reflecting back, it's a bit of everything. I can't see with my eyes, but I do know what is happening around me. That's how I knew where the window was. I could feel the breeze coming in. I could hear where the noise came in more clearly, versus the slight muffling of the wall. I could sense where the couch was based on the same factors."

You take in what he is trying to tell you and nod just a tiny bit. What he is saying makes sense - kind of. You know it's possible for other people's senses to strengthen when they lose one, but not nearly to the degree he is explaining. It is a hard concept to wrap your mind around. But you try. 

You can tell he's not used to explaining this and you can also tell he's waiting for you to be angry or upset with him. It's a feeling you are so very used to experiencing yourself - that you did something wrong, and the other person is going to leave. It's like it's tangible in the air.

You force your gaze up to Matt's face. His hazel eyes are truly windows to his soul, and he looks so scared that you are going to explode on him and your heart aches for him. You're by no means angry about him not telling you about this upfront - it's clear he's had issues with that in the past and it's not like you deserve to know all his trauma and secrets from day one just because you had his child. 

But you are still confused and do want to understand.

You turn so are facing him even more fully and force words from your throat, "Can I ask you some questions?"

Matt nods his head, jerky with it, "Yes, anything."

You can tell he means it, and that eases your own anxiety. You rub at your thighs, needing to transfer your internal anxieties outward, and go for the first thing that comes to mind. 

"You said…you can hear blocks away. What does that mean? You can hear everything in like...a two block radius?" You ask, hoping you aren't sounding like an absolute idiot.

Matt's lips twitch, like they want to go into a sad smile, but he keeps his face firmly in 'kicked puppy' territory, "A little more than two blocks. I haven't…tested the maximum range, but if I stand in the middle of Hell's Kitchen, I can hear almost all of it. Sort of - I learned to filter and push things into the background so it's not constant input. If I focus, I can hear the couple down the street debating about what they want for dinner. I can hear everyone in this building and the next. But it isn't just..." he trails off for a moment, biting his lip and wrinkling his brow. Like he's trying to figure out the right words. You wait, not wanting to rush him. 

"It isn't just a macro experience; it is also micro. I can hear the way the pipes in your kitchen are creaking. The way your shirt brushes against your skin. The differences in your breath as you exhale…I can hear your lungs expand and contract. I can... Hear your heart - it was beating fast a few moments ago but it's started to calm. Or you're trying to keep calm. I can... Tell your adrenaline and fear are still high. You're nervous and I don't blame you."

Your brows scrunch up in disbelief, "you can…hear my heartbeat?" You look down at your own chest, reaching up to place your hand over your heart. You can feel it beating rather hard, but as Matt said, you feel like you are calming down now that the two of you are talking. 

"I can hear your heartbeat," he confirms, then adds, "But I don't go around listening to those sorts of things. I try to give people their privacy."

That makes sense to you - you wouldn't want to constantly have to listen to people's body functions. 

The thought triggers another question. 

"Why aren't you a doctor?"

Matt opens his mouth as if to answer, then pauses as his expression morphs into bafflement. "What?"

"Why aren't you a doctor?" You repeat, then motion at him, "I mean, based on what you said, wouldn't it make sense to be a doctor?"

He opens and closes his mouth a few times, reminding you of a fish, before he shakes his head, finally, finally starting to smile again, "I, uh, never considered it. I've always wanted to be a lawyer, since I was a kid. I wanted to help people." He leans forward slightly, putting his elbows on his knees, "You learn I can hear your heartbeat and you ask why I'm not a doctor. Are you not…freaked out?"

"I mean, a little, yes," you admit with a shrug, "but also…" you look back down to your lap and clasp your hands together, squeezing a little too tightly, "You're telling me and…we're talking like adults about it. I get why you didn't tell me, and it's not like…it's not like it's something terrible. It's weird but…it's not the weirdest thing?" You bite into your lip, then, because your nature is to put everyone else's needs in front of yours, you can't help but ask, "Is there anything I can do to make things easier? I mean, is there anything in here that's too loud or something? Something I can adjust to make you more comfortable?"

He seems to need a minute to process what you are telling him before he shakes his head, "No. No, I've spent my life adjusting to everything." He takes a breath before his voice becomes a little softer, "I didn't want to hide this from you. Foggy and Karen know the truth and were helping me come up with a way to tell you that makes sense."

"You did a good job, it made sense," you quickly confirm. That makes him smile, just a little. 

"I'm glad... they are also helping me make a binder, like you made for me. About everything," he mimics you, motioning to himself. "I'm hoping it will help you with Minnie." 

You're confused at first why your daughter is mentioned, then the wheels quickly begin to turn. 

Memories flash in your mind of Minnie saying things are too loud - all her weird little complaints you've heard since she started being able to articulate - and your stomach starts to turn as things start to slot into place.

She inherited Matt's senses. 

It makes so much sense and you very suddenly feel like you need to throw up. 

You scramble to stand up, clamping your hands over your mouth. Matt shoots up so he is standing beside you, reaching out to touch your arm while saying your name in concern.

"She's been trying to tell me,” you choke out. All of the emotion of the day is crashing into you. Your eyes are stinging, and you can feel the tears gathering. 

You've been such an awful parent. 

How could you have not listened to what she was saying? Toddlers say weird things, but she's been consistent about what she tells you and you thought it was just her imagination or exaggerations. 

What has your poor baby been putting up with? 

The thought of her suffering because her senses are being overwhelmed and you not helping her pushes you over the edge and you begin to cry. 

Tears start to pour out of you and only years of training has you strangling the sob that tries to escape as well. 

You see Matt move through blurry eyes and suddenly you are wrapped in his arms, tucked under his chin like Minnie had been.

"It's okay," he whispers into your temple, holding you firmly against his chest. You want to struggle because you are not used to being held when you cry. You aren't used to being held at all. You aren't used to crying around other people. 

All of it is so much and it just makes you cry harder, awkwardly standing stiff as a board while Matt tries to comfort you. 

"It's okay," he repeats, and you manage to shake your head, because none of it is okay. It isn't.

You think of all the tantrums that have resulted from her being overstimulated and try to imagine how awful she must have been feeling. You get headaches from things being just a little too loud and that has been all of her life - and you have no idea how much she can hear. Can she hear blocks away like her father can? How many horrible things has she heard that you don't know about? 

How has it shaped her?

"Hey, hey, look at me," Matt says so softly you barely hear him over your own choked sobs. His hands go from holding you to his chest up to your face and he cups your jaw, gently forcing you to tilt your head up towards his. You squeeze your eyes shut, too ashamed of yourself to look right into his face. "You are an amazing mother. You care so much about Minnie and doing right by her. You said she's been trying to tell you and you've been listening. You have been. The headphones you got her? They do help. I promise you they help. Everything you do helps." 

There's a gentle pressure against your forehead, and you realize Matt is touching his to yours. You can feel his nose brushing against your own. "I asked her at the park the other day what helps when things start getting too loud. Do you know what she said?" 

You shake your head because you have no idea. You didn't even know they had talked without you present. 

What else didn't you know about your daughter?

"She listens to your heart. When things get too much for her, she finds the thing that centers her and soothes her and that's the sound of your heart." 

You try to process his words but it's another gut punch to your emotions. It's a swell of love for your sweet little angel with a mix of horror because how often has she needed to center herself on you? 

Matt smooths his thumbs over your cheeks, pushing away tears that are still streaming down them. "You take such good care of her. It blew my mind the first time we were all together, that you're so attentive and loving. You care so much. I didn't understand how I was so lucky that you were the one I got to have a child with. Someone with such a good heart. I thought you must have been mistaken because I certainly don't deserve you. I don't deserve Minnie. But you let me in and I have been praying that I can be a fraction of what a good parent you are. Minnie loves you so much. You've done so good with her. You didn't know about her senses, but how could you, and you still did so much to help her. And now that you do know, I know you'll do everything within your power to help her. And I will as well. I promise. It's okay. She's okay."

You try to focus on Matt's words, but it is so hard. Your crying is quickly cascading from emotional crying to being completely panicked anxiety crying. 

You aren't used to being comforted. You aren't used to people telling you it's okay and you did good. It's confusing and you don't know how to act. You don't know what you are supposed to do. 

Are you supposed to calm down? How do you calm down? How do you just stop crying?

And his hands are so warm on your face. They are surprisingly rough, but they feel good, petting you so gently. He's so close everywhere - you're still right against him from when he was holding you. You can taste his breath. 

It feels like he's right on top of you - he practically is - and you suddenly can't breathe. It feels like your esophagus has locked up and you can no longer swallow air. 

Fear surges up your spine and before it can take hold, a low resonating bong goes through your mind, telling you to go get a glass of water. 

It's something you've trained into your mind, taking years to perfect. 

To prevent a panic attack, drink a glass of water.

"I need water," you manage to say before pulling away from Matt and go purposefully to the kitchen, ordering yourself to not rush. You have a specific glass you use on these occasions and pull it from the top shelf. You hear Matt follow you into the kitchen, but you force yourself to focus on getting out your water pitcher and pouring your glass of water. Your hands are shaking and water is splashing on the side of the glass. 

Once it is full, you refill the pitcher and put it away, before returning to your glass. You drink slowly, taking a sip, swallowing, taking a breath, then repeating. Matt keeps his distance as he waits for you. He looks concerned and he keeps flexing his hands and you have to avert your gaze because it is making you anxious again. 

Tears are still streaming down your face but with each breath, you regain control of your emotions. You pull them back in and reorganize your thoughts. First, you must deal in facts.

Fact - Matt has enhanced senses due to the accident where he lost his eyesight. Fact - Matt is Minnie's father. Fact - Minnie inherited Matt's enhanced senses. Fact - having enhanced senses can be overwhelming for your daughter and it causes tantrums. 

These are your facts, one of which is a problem, the over stimulation, and you need to find a solution to it, but to find a solution you need to know the trigger. 

You finish your glass of water and set it in the sink to wash later, then turn to face Matt. He looks so worried, but now that you are looking at him, he perks up - attentive and waiting for you to address him.

You wonder what signals your body is giving him - can he sense your change in demeanor?

"Do you know what upset her at dinner? Why she started crying?" You ask, hoping you don't sound like a complete mess.

Matt nods quickly, ready to explain, "the building behind us on this block's fire alarm started going off. Based on what I can tell, a rat chewed through a wire and set it off somehow. The second tantrum was from a fire truck arriving - it had it's sirens going off "

You stare at Matt in wonder. You heard none of that. The window was wide open and you didn't hear a siren at all, and if you did you automatically put it into the background of your mind. 

"It was on the other side of the block," he says, like he knows exactly what you are thinking, "and we're facing the wrong direction. There's no chance you would have been able to hear it."

Your hands clench into fists at your side, dread starting to build up inside of you and threatening to pull more tears, "how can I protect her from things I can't hear?"

Matt's face softens into something understanding. He hesitantly steps forward, and as he reaches for you, you understand his love language is touch. He's trying to comfort you through touch, and by extension, comfort himself. This must be horrible for him, you realize with a start. He told you this big secret and you proceeded to freak the fuck out on him. 

He needs comfort as well. He needs someone telling him it's okay.

You're being so selfish again.

He touches your arm and begins to ghost his fingers up and down it, barely pushing at the sleeves of your T-shirt. The back of his fingers are rough, but the sensation isn't terrible. You are still so unsure what you are supposed to do, so you take a breath and take a small step closer to him then decide the best course of action is to ignore the petting.

"You can't protect her, but we can help give her the tools to protect herself. She was born with it and has adapted naturally. I had to be taught and have had a lifetime to learn. That's why I want to make that guide for you. I fully intended to tell you everything, and still do," he ducks his head and becomes almost sheepish, “I was just…trying to do it in the right way?"

You absorb his words and let them roll around in your mind, ignoring for now the implication there are more people with enhanced senses than just Matt. 

"You can teach her?" You confirm after a few moments.

"We can both teach her. I told you before, you've already helped so much. No one has ever gotten me sound proof headphones - and certainly not a dozen different pairs. We can talk to her together and she can tell us what she needs," he says and it does sound like he's thought this through. 

And that brings you comfort.

He has a plan. He's coming at this prepared and with research and consultants. 

He's committed. 

You don't need to search for a solution because he already has one.

You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and your shoulders relax.

A literal sigh of relief.

"Thank you," you whisper and Matt quickly shakes his head, but before you can say anything, the larger red stain on his shirt catches your eye again and your Mom brain activates. "Matt, your shirt!"

He looks down at his chest, clearly confused by the sudden change in conversation and tone, "what about my shirt?"

"There's lasagna all over it. It's going to stain so badly. Here, let me get you another shirt," you pull away from him and start hurrying towards the bedroom. You wipe at your tears as you call back to him, "I think I can still get the stain out. It's still wet."

In the bedroom, Minnie has rolled over and is now face down on her bed, sprawled out like a starfish. You know from that she will not be awake until morning. She must be so exhausted, your poor Mouse. Guilt swirls in your belly and you vow you're going to learn to help prevent this. 

You're not going to let her suffer any longer.

You look away from your daughter to rummage through your dresser. You grab one of your largest T-shirts and quickly leave the room, lest you disturb your daughter. You head back down the short hallway to the main living area, hoping what you got will be big enough for Matt. 

You look up from your musings as you come around the corner and freeze.

Matt's taken his shirt off.

You are very intimately aware that he was in shape before, but this is a different level. His muscles are well defined and his biceps are at least as big as Minnie's head. You've never seen someone with v-cut abs in person and you feel your cheeks start to heat up because you are only human and your brain is definitely short circuiting.

You force your eyes away from how his hips disappear into his pants and up his chest. 

There are scars, all across his torso, long and deliberate. They don't look surgical, even with the sight symmetry of some. Going over one of the smaller scars on his right side is a nasty bruise that seems to wrap around to his back. It looks painful and at least a few days old by the coloring.

Your instinct is to ask if he is alright, but you clamp it down. 

You understand. 

You understand this extension of trust, silent and hopeful but terrified, and you take it and cradle it to your heart. He will tell you in time. You have to trust him.

You have to trust whatever is blooming between the two of you. 

But does he really need to be so insanely hot? Was it not complicated enough?

Matt calls your name, breaking you out of your thoughts. He sounds more than a little smug.

"Sorry, it has been a long day. Um, I think this will fit you," you step forward and hold it out, asking as you do, "Do I need to tell you where it is or…?"

He shakes his head with a chuckle, and you wonder how many times people have asked him such questions, "You can just toss it at me. It's okay, I understand." 

You feel rude but do as you are told. He catches it easily, and after turning it over in his hands to orient it, pulls it on. 

"What's it got on it?" He asks, rubbing his hands over his chest to feel the screen print, unintentionally emphasizing how broad he is.

You blame your slight delay in response on your exhaustion.

"It's... got the word 'cosmos' on it with a galaxy print behind it. It's from that old science show with um...I don't know his name. I just remember something about the universe being a pie?" You answer, wishing you'd actually looked at what you had grabbed him.

But Matt nods anyways, like he understands what you mean, "Carl Sagan?"

The name rings a bell, and you shrug, honestly not remembering in the moment, "I think that's it, I never was a big science person but the shirt was free..."

He chuckles at your answer and you have to look away from him, shuffling towards the couch instead. It isn't fair how good he looks. The shirt is one you wear every so often to sleep and now you very much understand the trope of men enjoying women wearing their t-shirts and you've already experienced too many emotions today to try to process that.

You plop down and put your head into your hands. Exhaustion is creeping into your bones and your eyes ache from crying and it feels like you've been hit with the emotional equivalent of an eighteen wheeler. You feel the couch dip as he sits beside you and a moment later, Matt's fingers are tracing up and down your spine. It feels like a feather and instead of locking up at the touch, you find yourself slumping more.

"How're you doing?" He asks and part of you wants to laugh. 

"I don't know," you admit, "it is a lot to take in at once. I just want to make sure I'm doing the right thing - with Minnie. With you. Not just with…your senses, but with everything. I don't want to mess up."

"You won't mess up," Matt assures you and he sounds so confident that you want to believe him. "Things might not always be easy, but you won't mess up. I believe in you." 

You don't know how to respond to that. You haven't had anyone tell you they believe in you in so long. It sends this sort of warmth through you that you don't understand and the only thing you can think of to do is hide your face more into your hands. 

He doesn't press for more as you both sit there. The silence somehow isn't awkward, even as minutes start to creep by. He continues to run his fingers up and down your back and it doesn't take long for your eyes to start to feel heavy. You tell yourself to get up, you still have to clean up the mess from dinner, but your body doesn't listen.

You just want to sit. 

All you want to do is just sit.

You'll get up in a minute. You just need to recharge. You keep telling yourself that, even as you feel your body start to sag and your thoughts start to fade in and out. You don't notice as your exhaustion starts to take over and you begin to drift - and you don't notice as Matt helps you lay down on the couch or when a blanket is draped over you. 

As your thoughts finally allow sleep to take over, the last thing your mind lets you process is the brush of lips against your temple and gentle words whispered against your skin. 

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[veryberryjelly]

reading by wandlight

pairing : regulus black x reader

prompt : power out

𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲

the snow storm was expected, which was why both you and regulus were home when the power went out.

when the storm was announced you both booked a few days off of work as to not be caught up in it and get into a dangerous situation.

while the snow storm was expected, the power out certainly wasnt.

you were reading a book on the couch when the lights went out and you were immediately on alert.

" reggie ?" you called throughout your flat, pulling your wand from your leggings and muttering a quick 'lumps' to light the end of your wand.

" darling ?" he called back from what you assumed was the bedroom.

" stay there, i'm coming to you " you said, making your way through the pitch black apartment with only the light of your wand to guide you.

you found regulus leaning against the bathroom door with a towel wrapped around his waist, his damp hair dripping against his chest.

" looking good, reggie " you said, a soft smirk settling on your lips as you moved to stand against the wall opposite.

" thanks, love. any idea what happened ?" he questioned, his hand coming up to brush some stray hair from his face

" probably the snow, blew a fuse or something. might be back on my the morning " you explained, heading towards the bedroom where you knew you kept candles and matches incase the mood ever needed setting.

you lit a few candles with the matches, handing two of them to regulus and taking another two in your hands after setting your wand down on the bed, tip still lit.

" we'll put these in the bathroom so you can finish your shower.. and i'll light a couple in here. " you explained, leading regulus to the bathroom where you set two candles down on your counter top.

" okay, try not to trip. " he said, pressing a short kiss onto your forehead before you made your way out of the bathroom , picking up your wand from the bed to make your way through the flat and grab the book that you had been reading on the sofa and bring it back to the bedroom.

you put your hair up into a bun, slotting your wand into the hair tie so you could hold your book with both hands while you waited for regulus to come out of the shower.

he emerged a few minutes later, dressed in joggers and a green sweater, holding a candle in each hand. he set them both down on the dressing table before going back for the other two and bringing them in aswell, settling them on each of your bedside tables.

" what're you reading, baby ?" he questioned, his head resting down on your shoulder as you turned the page.

" reading up on house elves " you explained, shifting slightly to press a kiss onto the top of his head.

" what'd i miss ?" he asked, a soft smile resting on his lips.

" this woman spent a month shadowing house elves in an estate to see how they live and how they're treated. "

the two of you read in silence until you fell asleep with your wand in your hair and your book open against your chest.

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@darlingeels