Kam

I was wiping down the bar when two tall handsome strangers walked in. “Hey there, welcome to the roadhouse. What can I do for you to get information, a drink, or both?” I finished with a smile mainly focusing on the blonde one. What can I say? I'm a sucker for green eyes. He gives me a flashing smile. “Hey there…” “Y/n” “Y/n, we’re looking for Ellen Harville do you know her?” “I better she’s my mom I’ll be right back.” They both look at each other in confusion. I walk back to the little kitchen. “Hey Mom, two guys are here looking for you.” She gets up and follows me back to them. “Hey there fellows I heard you're looking for me.”

“Uh yeah we’re John Winchester's sons and we got your call.” And the rest flew by so quickly. Ash helped Sam to look up information on the case and while that happened Dean and I had a talk. I poured him a drink and slid it to him. “What’s this for?” I shrugged while sipping a coke. “For your Dad, I'm sorry for your loss.” He took it and shot it back like it was water. “Thanks, you sound like you know the pain.” “My dad passed when I was thirteen so I know how it feels.” My heart panged with pain a little like it did every time I thought of my Dad. “Oh well, I'm sorry for you too, cheers to our dad’s.” We raise our glasses and I'm left with a thought that Dean Winchester doesn't seem like a bad guy.

After that, Sam and Dean would visit us whenever they could and when they needed info. Dean’s and I’s relationship just grew and grew with every late-night talk, pool game, and drink. And it was scaring the shit out of me. I was closing up the bar and Dean and I were having another one of our talks. “Burger or hotdog?” he asks me. “Uh hotdog, is there any other choice.” I playfully responded. “What do you mean hotdog crazy lady?” “So I'm assuming your burger.” I leaned down to his level and he gave me his signature smirk. “Of course.”

With that, he swiped his tongue over his lips while he was staring at me. We both had the same idea we leaned in and to be this close was intoxicating, his breath hot and our noses were touching but my mom did not like our idea. “Dean we are closing for the day.” my mom said from the doorway and we quickly pulled away. “Uh right sorry I'll see you guys later.” He grabbed his jacket and gave me one more look before he walked out. “Mom! What the hell!” “You can not be with that Man!” “Why?” She looked down thinking about something but decided against it. “Just please be careful with those boys.” She turned away before I could ask any more questions.

Dean and Sam had not been back since night. I mean they're busy but it felt personal to me. I tried to forget those butterflies that I got every time I got around Dean but for some reason I couldn't. Every guy that I had been with wasn’t really serious and I was fine with that but then I met Dean and in my locked trunk of hopes in my heart that maybe he was different. And he was. 

It was early in the morning and I was waiting at the table for Jo. She sneakily walks in going to the fridge. I flip on the light. “Late-night snacks sis?” She jumped at me. “Jezze Y/n I thought you were Mom.” I get up and go to the fridge to get a beer. Yes, I did need it to deal with my little sister’s attitude. “No, I'm worse. Mom would go easy on you compared to me.” “Y/n please let me go, I can do this!” I sign and sit down. “Sit down Jo.” she does. “Jo look, the reason I'm like this is because I couldn't bear if anything happened to you like… Dad and mom would agree.”

She looks down at her fiddling hands. “N/n I'm doing this because of Dad you got more time with him all I remember are the short times he came back from hunting. If I can do this I won't feel like I barely know him.” She was right. I couldn't take that away from her if this was her way of feeling closer to our Father then I would have to let her, even if that meant hunting. I sigh deeply, standing up and taking out my knife and handed it to her. “What is this?” “It was Dad’s” She looked up at me like I had given her gold.

“But he gave this to you.” “He did but it was his hunting knife and it's just been sitting in my pocket not doing much hunting so it seems right that you take it.” She jumps up and hugs me tight. “Thank you, thank you.” I pull back to look at her. “You can thank me by sending me the case and the location and call me everyday to make sure you're safe.” She nods her head. “Okay, that’s fair.” We let go. “Okay get out of here before Mom gets up.” She smiles excitedly grabs her bag and practically skips out the door.

She had Ash set up a paper trail of casinos down the state line so Mom wouldn't really know where she was. Mom did not like it but had accepted it. It was about two days in and she finally called me. “Hey, I thought we said every day.” “Sorry, I got distracted.” “By what?” I asked a little confused. “Sam and Dean.” “They're there!” “Yeah I guess we picked up on the same story.” “So you have help good good.” All that was running through my head was Dean. “N/n you okay?” She asked, hearing my pause. “Yes, I am, well call to update me. Love you.” “Love you too sis.” She hung up and I just sat there for a second and the next one I decided what I was going to do.

I walk to the apartment door and knock on it. The door opened and there was Dean. My heart quickens but I play it off cool. “Hey, Dean.” “Hey, Y/n.” He steps aside and I come in. “Y/n what are you doing here?” Jo questioned. “Uh, I wanted to get in and gank this ghost.” “Why didn’t you just come with me in the first place.” That’s a good question and now for a good lie. “I was scared but I fought off the nerves.” That was a shit lie. “Okay well I'll catch you up.” I walk over to the map but not before looking at Dean and he looked back.

We had determined that the ghost was H.H Holmes I know it does sound insane and it is. I was mostly worried about Jo seeing she was exactly Holmes type. We were going to split off in pairs to search but not before I talked to Dean. “Hey” I stepped up to him.”Hey, you ready.” “as I'll ever be.” “Good well I'll be one phone call away.” “I know and if anything happens to Jo-” He put his arm on my shoulder. “It won't.” His eyes are so trusting. “And Dean.” “Mhh.” “You be careful too.” “I will.”

Sam and I were checking upstairs while Jo and Dean went downstairs. “So… did you really want to come.” He asked casually looking around. “Of course, I did for my sister.” He stopped to look at me. “Really that’s what you're going with I mean why not go in the first place and you're scared Y/n I've seen you punch a man square in the face for trying to take your tip.” To be honest I didn't even know myself. “I-” We were rounding the corner and straight into Dean. “Dean Dean!” He kept on walking. “Where’s Jo!” He stopped dead in his tracks and spun to face me. “She was taken.” He keeps on going and I'm frozen.

We were back in the apartment and I kept walking back and forth. We are looking in the blueprints to see where she could be hidden while Dean’s phone rings. It was my Mom. Fear got stricken through my body how would my Mom even look at me? How would I?” “She's gonna have to call you back, she's taking care of, uh, feminine business.” Dean responded back and I thought my lie from before was shit. “Look, we'll get her back.” My heart was thumping.

“The spirit we're hunting, it took her.” I could hear from where I was how worried she was. “She'll be okay, I promise.” “You promise. That is not the first time I've heard that from a Winchester.” What the fuck does that mean. Dean had the same response. he lowers the phone and hands it to me. “She wants to talk to you.” I shakily take it. “Mom I-” “Dont even how could you let her!” The tears started to fall from my eyes and my face turned red from burning anxiety. “I'm sorry I just wanted her to feel closer to Dad.” “Well, she may be closer than you wanted now!” “You're her big sister!... Im so disapiontted in you.” She hangs up the phone with nothing else. I drop the phone on the bed. “I'll be right back.” I sobily say and run out.

I go out to the alleyway and kick the trashcan out of anger. “AHHH! Fuck!” I punched the wall and in my anger, and I had forgotten it was made out of brick. My knuckles started trickling blood and I slumped down the wall just feeling defeated. A pair of boots showed up in front of me. “Hey” I looked up and it was Dean. “Hey,” I respond softly my voice feeling raw. He sat down next to me. “We're going to find her N/n” I wipe my eyes.

“I shouldn't have let her go she was so desperate to feel something to our dad that I let her go… I'm so stupid.” I put my head in my crossed arms against my knees. “You are not stupid, you're a good sister.”  I dryly chuckle at myself. “I'm a sister who let her only sibling go hunting when I knew the danger.”  He sighs. “When I was sixteen and Sam was twelve we were hunting and I let him go look on by himself a ghost almost killed him.” I turn my head at him.

“Uh, no offense Dean but pep talk sucked.” “I not done the reason he didn't die is because he remembered what I had taught him and he had his tools not just weapons but knowledge and he was ready so is Jo she fine she has an amazing sister looking for her.” I wipe my tears and throw myself in his arms and he catches me. He pets my head in comfort I whisper. “Thank you.” We split apart really close. He leans forward pur noses touching. Then Sam comes running towards. “UH guys I think I know where she is.”

She and the other missing girl had been in a storm drain. When had trapped H.H. ghost and Jo and I got topside. She threw her arms around me. “Are you ok!?” I put my hands on her face. “No no I'm fine just some scratches.” She took out Dad's pocketknife. “This protected me. So thank you.” “Anytime sis.” The boys get out of the drain. Sam and Jo go off to talk and that leaves Dean and I alone. “So….” He starts. I Bear hug him. “Thank you for helping save my sister.” “Of course.” This time I'm going do it. I grab his face and he accepts it, “Ah am.” I look behind him and it's my mom I'm so tried of people fucking cock blocking me.

The ride home let's just say that Christmas with a stepmom twenty years old is more comfortable. We get to the roadhouse and Mom practically drags us in. “Ellen? This is my fault. Okay? I lied to you and I'm sorry. But Jo and Y/n did good out there, I think their dad would be proud.” Dean tried to reason. “Don't you dare say that. Not you. I need a moment with my daughters. Alone.” The boys leave. “You're angry. I understand.” Jo started.

“Angry? Angry doesn't begin to touch it.” I mean I know why she’s angry with me but Sam and Dean? “Is this about me hunting, or something else?” I tried “Mom they were right there, backing us up the whole time.” “Like father, like sons.” “Mom what the fuck is that suppose to mean.” “I’m sorry I shouldn't have said anything.” Both Jo and I look at each other. “Mom what are you not telling us.” 

I went on a little walk after I learned what happened I guess Jo talked to them about it but my emotions were all over the place. Jo and I had a talk which ended in crying and a hug. I didn't know how to feel especially now with Dean.

I was taking the trash out behind the roadhouse when I turned it was Dean. “Ahh Fuck! Dean, I almost threw this trash bag full of dirty napkins at you.” “Yeah shaking in my boots.” We just had a silent silence. “Look I just wanted to say sorry.” I was puzzled. “Why are you sorry?” “Because of my dad.” “Dean that wasn't your… fault.” He steps closer. “I know, but my dad's not here and I am so I'm sorry that Will is not here because of him.” I drop the trash and I kiss him. I didn't care at that moment that my clothes were covered in grease stains and a mix between blood and beer I had to. His lips were a little chapped but still were soft as a cloud. Our lips separated slowly. “I'm sorry I just..” His hands were on my hips now. “Had to.” He finished. 

18+ SMUT……

“I have about thirty minutes before my mom comes looking for me so do you wanna do this ?” He grabbed me and backed me to the wall. “Oh, I wanna do this I've been wanting to do this since I first saw you.” “Dean you-” I didn't get to finish my sentence before he kissed me again. And yes it was heaven. His tongue starts to prod my lips and I let him in. “Mhh Dean.” “You like that.” “Yes,” I said practically moaning. “How about this.” he goes down my neck slowly sucking on my sweet spots. “You are too good at that Dean.”

“Yeah, hopefully I'm good at this too.” He unbuttons my shirt slowly and kisses down my stomach. To my pants. “This okay.” He was on his knees his hands on my pants band. “Yes.” He pulled down my pants. Grabbed my panties with my teeth to easily pull down. He starts to kiss my inside thigh. “Oh my gosh.” I throw my hand to the wall to steady myself. He kitten licks my slit. “Ahh” He then puts his tongue in me. “Ohh Fuck Dean!” He goes fully in and eats me out like a madman. I am so close. I grab onto his shoulder and grip it tightly. “Just let go honey.” I did and he lapped it up.

“Oh my gosh did you go to school for that.” I breathily let out. “Yeah, I majored in it.” I chuckle and my hand goes to his pants. “Do you want me to return the favor?” He takes my hand. “I would love that but we have about ten minutes left and I want to show you why I graduated at the top of my class.” I nod and he unbuckles his pants and drops them. I look down and his shaft is standing proud. He pulled down his underwear and it was bigger than I expected. “You ready sweetness.”

“Always.” He gently grabs my head kisses me again and starts grinding against me. He then slips in. “Ahh Dean!” “Tell me when I can move,” It feels a little burning but then it turns into pleasure. “Dean you can move.” He goes in and out moving slowly. “Y/n you feel so good.” He grabs onto my hips to pull me up onto around his hips. He thrusts in and out faster and faster. He breaths into my neck and I wrap my arms around his neck.

“I'm almost there are you Y/n” “Yes!” “Let's do it together!” He moves down to rub my clit. “Ahh fuck!” “Ok, one two three!” And we did. He pulled out his cock dripping with our fluids together. I then realized the time. “Dean I loved that but you have to go.” he grabs me one more time to leave a sweet kiss. “I'll call you.” “You better Dean Winchester.” He gathers himself and leaves. I didn't know where that left us but at least we would always have behind the roadhouse.

It’s 2:17 a.m. when I realize I’m in love with him.

Nick’s asleep — curled into me, one leg tossed across mine, mouth parted just a little like he always does when he’s out cold. His curls are sticking to his forehead, and I can feel his breath fan over my chest in slow, steady exhales.

The song is still playing softly from my phone speaker on the nightstand. Taylor’s voice is hushed and haunting — and you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars, and why I’ve spent my whole life tryin’ to put it into words.

I don’t move. I can’t. If I shift even slightly, he’ll wake up and call me dramatic for being so in my feelings at 2 a.m. But the truth is — I don’t give a shit. I am in my feelings. Drowning in them, actually.

Because I love him. I fucking love him.

I love the way he talks with his hands. I love how he fake-complains when I take too long getting ready, even though he’s the one who takes longer and we both know it. I love how he squeezes my hand three times during movies — his silent I love you. I love that he never lets me leave without a kiss, even if we’re just running to Target.

He mumbles something in his sleep and shifts, his hand sliding up under my shirt like he always does — like skin on skin is the only way he sleeps right. And when his fingers find my ribs, he relaxes again like he’s home.

I stare at the ceiling and feel it hit me like a truck. Not like a slow realization — more like someone sucker-punched me with the truth I’d been circling for months.

I want this forever. Him. Us. The sleepy mornings and the takeout nights and the bickering over which side of the bed is whose even though we both know it’s mine.

You can hear it in the silence… you can feel it on the way home… you can see it with the lights out… you are in love.

Taylor was right. Fucking hell, she was right.

It’s in the quiet. It’s in his laugh. It’s in the way he says my name like it’s always been his favorite word.

“Y/n,” Nick mumbles, voice rough with sleep.

“Yeah, baby?” I whisper, my hand brushing through his hair.

His eyes barely open, just hazy slits in the dark. “You’re staring at me.”

“Yeah.” I smile. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He sighs, burying his face into my chest. “I like when you look at me like that. Like you’re in love with me or something.”

I laugh under my breath. “That’s because I am, dumbass.”

He blinks once. Then again. And then this lazy, sleepy smile spreads across his face — like I just told him the world’s best secret.

“Took you long enough,” he mutters, pulling me closer. “I’ve been in love with you since you snorted Pepsi out of your nose on our second date.”

I groan. “You’re such a dick.”

“And you love it,” he says, smug as hell, wrapping his arms tighter around me.

I do. God, I do.

So when he drifts back to sleep, holding me like I’m his whole world, I finally let the words settle in my chest like they belong there.

Because they do.

You can hear it in the silence… You are in love.

⸻

It’s still dark when I wake up again, but this time it’s because Nick’s hand is in my hair, his fingers gently combing through it like he’s memorizing the way it feels.

“You’re awake?” I whisper, voice scratchy.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he murmurs, voice low and warm. “Kept thinking about what you said.”

I glance down at him. “The part where I called you a dumbass or the part where I told you I’m in love with you?”

A small smirk curls on his lips. “Both, actually.”

I chuckle, nudging my nose into his temple. “You’re such a little shit.”

“You love me though,” he says, like it’s the easiest truth in the world.

“I do, Nick. I really fucking do.”

The way his face softens at that? It almost hurts to look at him. His expression goes all tender and slightly stunned — like I just gave him the stars without asking if he wanted them.

“I’ve always hoped you’d say it like that,” he whispers, and now I’m the one blinking back tears.

“Like what?” I ask, voice a little hoarse.

He shifts up so we’re eye to eye, resting his forehead against mine. “Like you mean it. Like it’s not scary.”

“It’s not,” I say instantly. “Not with you. You make it feel safe.”

Nick kisses me then — soft, slow, like he’s trying to tell me the same thing without words. His hand slips behind my neck, his thumb brushing just under my jaw, and I swear everything else disappears for a second. Just me, him, and the sound of our hearts beating against each other in the quiet.

When we pull back, he grins. “You’re such a sap.”

“Oh, shut up,” I laugh, pushing him onto his back. “You literally cried during Up.”

“Okay, first of all, everyone cries during Up, and second, this is different,” he defends, though he’s smiling like an idiot. “You saying you’re in love with me? That’s a top-tier moment. Like, fuck Disney. This is the real shit.”

I lay on top of him, arms draped around his shoulders. “Do I get a trophy for it or what?”

“You get unlimited kisses, and I’ll do that thing you like with my—”

“Nick.” I smack his arm, laughing.

“What?” he grins. “I’m in love, not dead.”

We’re still tangled together when the first threads of light creep in through the blinds. His fingers are drawing lazy circles on my back, and his voice is sleepy when he says:

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“Promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t ever stop loving me like this.”

I lift my head to look at him — this boy who talks with his hands and never leaves the house without kissing my cheek and pretends he hates cuddling but is always the one to pull me close.

“I couldn’t stop if I tried,” I say, and I mean it with everything I’ve got.

He pulls me in for another kiss — slower this time, full of morning breath and soft moans and the kind of safety you can’t fake. The kind of love Taylor sings about. Quiet, steady, real.

And when he falls back asleep, arms locked around me, I know exactly what she meant.

And you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars…

Because love — real love — feels like this.

Messy. Sacred. A little chaotic. But yours.

And holy fuck, I am so in love with him.

—

Batman Family:

I barely made it three steps into Matt’s room before he was on me.

“Missed you,” he muttered against my neck, arms wrapping around my waist like he was afraid I’d disappear. His body pressed fully into mine, warm and solid, and I could immediately tell what kind of mood he was in.

“You saw me like—” I checked the time on my phone, “—two hours ago.”

Matt groaned, leaning more of his weight onto me until we both stumbled back toward his bed. “Yeah, but two hours without you touching me? That’s basically torture.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the smirk forming on my lips. “You’re so dramatic.”

“And you love it.”

Before I could respond, Matt’s hands slipped lower, gripping my ass in a way that had heat shooting up my spine.

I sucked in a breath. “Okay, so that’s what we’re doing today?”

His lips brushed over my jawline, moving up to my ear as he whispered, “I just wanna be close to you.”

I could hear the teasing in his voice, but the neediness in his touch was real. His hands roamed—up my sides, over my stomach, down to my thighs—like he had to feel every inch of me to be satisfied. His body molded against mine, and I could feel the telltale hardness pressing against my hip.

I huffed out a laugh. “Matt.”

“Yeah?”

I tilted my head, giving him a knowing look. “You’re hard.”

He groaned, letting his head drop to my shoulder. “You saying it out loud makes it worse.”

I laughed, reaching up to run my fingers through his hair. “You’re needy today.”

Matt lifted his head, his eyes darkening as he pulled me even closer. “Only for you.”

The way he said it sent a rush of heat straight through me. His lips found mine in a slow, teasing kiss, his hands gripping my waist like he was trying to ground himself. I could feel his desperation in the way he kissed me, like he couldn’t get enough, like he wanted more.

I pulled back slightly, just enough to breathe, and smirked. “What do you want, Matt?”

His grip tightened, his thumbs brushing under my shirt. “You.”

I chuckled. “Yeah? You want me to take care of you?”

Matt groaned, his hands sliding down to squeeze my ass again, his hips pressing against mine. “Fuck, don’t say it like that unless you mean it.”

I bit my lip, pretending to think about it. “Hmm. I don’t know. I kinda like watching you suffer a little.”

“Sweetheart,” he whined, dragging out the word like he was seconds away from losing it. “That’s mean.”

I grinned, loving the effect I had on him. “Oh, but you love it.”

Matt let out a shaky breath, nodding. “I really do.”

His lips found mine again, and this time, there was no teasing. It was hungry, desperate. His hands gripped my hips, rolling me against him so I could fully feel just how much he wanted me.

I gasped into his mouth, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue brushing against mine.

I tugged at his shirt, my fingers trailing over his toned stomach before slipping under the fabric. “You’re all over me,” I murmured between kisses.

Matt smirked, pulling back just enough to meet my gaze. “And?”

I huffed out a laugh, shaking my head. “And I like it.”

His hands moved to the back of my thighs, and before I could react, he was lifting me onto his bed, climbing over me. His body caged me in, his lips finding mine again as his hands continued their path over my body.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered against my lips, “I need you.”

I shivered at the way he said it, voice low and raspy.

I grinned, wrapping my legs around his waist. “Then take me.”

⸻

Matt’s weight pressed down on me as he settled between my legs, his hands still exploring like he had all the time in the world. His fingers traced lazy patterns along my sides, dipping under my shirt, brushing over my skin in a way that sent shivers down my spine.

“You’re so warm,” he murmured, his lips trailing down to my neck. He nipped at the sensitive skin, then soothed it with his tongue, making me squirm beneath him.

I let out a breathy laugh, my fingers threading through his hair. “You’re acting like I just got back from war.”

Matt groaned dramatically, lifting his head to pout at me. “It felt that long.”

I rolled my eyes, but the way he was looking at me—his pupils blown, lips slightly parted, breath uneven—made my stomach twist in the best way. He was so pretty like this, needy and desperate for my attention.

I let my hands wander, slipping under his shirt to feel the warmth of his skin. His abs tensed under my touch, and I felt his hips press forward, just slightly. Just enough to let me know how much he wanted me.

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, dropping his head against my shoulder. “You’re killing me.”

I smirked, dragging my nails lightly down his stomach, just to hear the way his breath hitched. “Am I?”

Matt lifted his head again, his eyes locking onto mine as he reached for my hand. He guided it down between us, pressing my palm against his bulge.

“You feel that?” His voice was low, rough, full of frustration. “That’s what you’re doing to me.”

I let out a shaky breath, my fingers flexing slightly against the hard outline in his sweatpants. He was so worked up, and it made heat coil in my stomach, made my own body react just as quickly.

I tilted my head, biting back a grin. “Damn. That bad, huh?”

Matt let out a sharp exhale, dropping his forehead against mine. “You’re evil.”

I giggled, but before I could say anything else, he was kissing me again—harder this time, more desperate. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me up against him, making sure I felt everything.

I gasped into his mouth, and he groaned, swallowing the sound like it was his oxygen. “Fuck,” he muttered, grinding against me again.

My fingers dug into his shoulders, my own body reacting instinctively to how needy he was.

“I need you,” he whispered, his voice strained, full of want. “Please.”

Hearing Matt Sturniolo—usually so composed, so chill—begging like that did something to me.

I smirked, running my fingers through his hair. “Since when do you say please?”

Matt let out a breathless laugh, but it turned into a groan as I rolled my hips up against him. His grip on my waist tightened, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before he looked down at me again.

“Since you started teasing the fuck out of me,” he shot back, voice thick with frustration.

I grinned, but before I could respond, his hands were on my ass again, squeezing, pulling me closer, making sure there was absolutely no space between us.

“Matt—” I gasped as his lips found my jaw, my neck, my collarbone.

“You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?” he muttered against my skin, his breath hot, his hands relentless. “Like actually insane.”

I bit my lip, my nails digging into his back. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He lifted his head again, his eyes dark and full of something that made my stomach flip. “And I don’t think I can wait much longer.”

I swallowed hard, my own body burning with the same need.

I smirked. “Then don’t.”

⸻

Matt groaned in response, his hands now working to yank my shirt off, the fabric coming over my head so quickly it left me breathless. His eyes traced every inch of exposed skin, his lips parted as he leaned down to kiss me again, this time slower, more deliberate, like he was savoring me.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured against my lips, hands brushing over my body as if he couldn’t get enough of touching me. His fingertips lingered over my chest, teasing the edges of my bra before he pulled away just enough to look down at me. “I want you so badly.”

I let out a shaky breath, feeling the intensity of his stare, the heat radiating off of him. “Then take me,” I whispered, my voice low and playful, but laced with the same desperate need that pulsed between us.

Without hesitation, Matt slid his hand down my side, slipping it under the waistband of my jeans. He was slow at first, his touch teasing, but I could tell by the way he gripped my hip, by the way his breath hitched in his chest, that he was on the edge of losing control.

“Fuck, sweetheart, I don’t think I can wait,” Matt muttered, his fingers finding the waistband of my underwear, and he hooked them, tugging them down just enough to feel the heat of my skin. His eyes never left mine as he moved over me, making sure I was feeling every bit of him—his body pressed into mine, the pressure of his chest against my breasts, his hands gliding down my body.

I swallowed hard, a little shiver running through me as I felt his fingers brush against me. “Matt, you’re driving me crazy.”

“Good,” he grinned, his voice breathy and laced with frustration. “I want to make you lose your mind.”

Before I could respond, his lips found my neck again, trailing lower as he kissed his way down to my chest, then his hands were back on me, tugging at my jeans, impatient now. The way he was touching me, the way he looked at me—it felt like he couldn’t get enough. Like he needed me in a way that made me ache in all the best ways.

As soon as my jeans were off, his hands went straight for my thighs, pushing them open so he could settle between them, his hips pressing against mine, making me feel every inch of him. His breathing was shallow, and I could feel the way his heart raced against my skin.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” Matt groaned, his hands sliding over my skin as his lips brushed over my collarbone. “I don’t deserve you, but fuck if I don’t want you more than anything.”

I smirked, running my hands over his shoulders, feeling his muscles tense as he kissed me again, more urgently this time, his lips desperate against mine. The way he was touching me was like he couldn’t get enough of me—his hands pulling me closer, pressing his body into mine like he couldn’t let go.

I gasped when I felt the pressure of him against me again, that familiar hardness making me weak. His hands found my ass again, grabbing at it roughly as he pushed me further into the bed, the friction between us sending heat rushing through me.

“You want it, don’t you?” Matt murmured, his voice thick with desire.

I nodded, biting my lip. “More than anything.”

Matt’s eyes darkened, and he kissed me hard, his hands reaching for the button of his own jeans, pulling them down quickly. His movements were frantic now, desperate to have me, to make me feel everything he was feeling.

As his body pressed down against mine, I could feel his breath on my skin, feel the heat of his body surrounding me. “You’re mine, sweetheart,” he whispered against my ear. “And I’m not letting you go.”

My heart raced as I pulled him closer, my hands trailing down his back, feeling every inch of him. I could barely think straight with the way he was kissing me, touching me, pulling me into him like he couldn’t get enough.

He grinned down at me, his hands on my hips, moving me against him. “You feel that?” he asked, voice low. “That’s how much I want you.”

I couldn’t stop the moan that left my lips, and the way Matt responded, tightening his grip on me, made it clear he was just as lost in this moment as I was. He wasn’t even trying to hide how badly he needed me—he was all over me, desperate, needy, and completely consumed by what we were doing.

The tension between us was almost unbearable now, and it felt like I couldn’t get close enough to him, couldn’t touch him enough. Every inch of me was screaming for him, and I could tell he felt the same way.

“Matt,” I gasped, my fingers digging into his back. “I want you too.”

He groaned at my words, pulling me closer, kissing me fiercely. His hands moved to my back, unhooking my bra in one swift motion before his lips found my chest, trailing down to my stomach. The way he moved was slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every moment with me.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart,” he whispered against my skin. “Not until I’ve had you, every way I can.”

⸻

Batman Family:

First dates are supposed to be nerve-wracking, right? Like, stomach full of butterflies, hands sweaty, overthinking every single detail kind of nerve-wracking. Yeah—so why the fuck did I agree to this?

Nick fucking Sturniolo. The boy I’ve had a ridiculous, borderline embarrassing crush on for months. And now, somehow, by some miracle (or cruel joke played by the universe), I’m sitting in my room, trying not to have a full-blown crisis over what to wear.

“Okay, (Y/N),” I mutter to myself, staring at the disaster zone that is my bed, covered in at least six different outfits. “It’s just a date. A normal, casual, ‘nothing to stress about’ kind of thing.”

Right. Except it’s not. It’s Nick. And I want to impress him without looking like I’m trying too hard. I settle on something simple—something that says I didn’t spend an hour debating this in front of my mirror, even though I totally did.

Just as I finish tying my shoes, my phone buzzes.

Nick: “I’m outside :))”

Shit. This is happening.

⸻

I step outside and spot Nick leaning against his car, scrolling through his phone. He looks up when he hears the door shut, and there’s this little smirk tugging at his lips.

“Damn, look at you,” he teases, eyeing me up and down. “Dressed to impress, huh?”

I roll my eyes, shoving my hands in my pockets. “Shut up. You’re literally wearing the same hoodie I saw you in two days ago.”

He gasps dramatically. “Okay, first of all, rude. Second, it’s called having a signature look. Maybe you should try it sometime.”

I snort, shaking my head as I walk up to his car. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Sturniolo.”

He laughs, unlocking the car doors. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s go.”

I freeze for a second. Sweetheart.

Nick’s already getting in the driver’s seat like he didn’t just casually drop a pet name like that. I take a breath, pretending my heart isn’t doing some weird backflip in my chest, and slide into the passenger seat.

“So,” I start, buckling my seatbelt. “What’s the plan?”

Nick shrugs, starting the car. “Figured we’d grab food first, then maybe go somewhere after. Drive around, hang out, see where the night takes us.”

It’s simple. Chill. Very Nick. And honestly? That sounds perfect.

“Sounds good to me,” I say, leaning back in my seat.

He grins. “Good, because I wasn’t really giving you an option.”

⸻

We end up at some hole-in-the-wall burger place that Nick swears has the best fries on the planet. And honestly? He might be right.

“This is dangerously good,” I say around a mouthful of fries, barely stopping myself from moaning at the taste.

Nick raises a brow, smirking. “Damn, didn’t know fries could get you like that.”

I kick his leg under the table. “Shut up. You literally inhaled your burger in under five minutes. You’re not allowed to judge me.”

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Fair enough.”

We fall into easy conversation, the kind that makes me forget we’re technically on a date and not just two idiots hanging out. And that’s the best part—it doesn’t feel awkward. It feels natural, like we’ve done this a hundred times before.

“So, be honest,” Nick says, dipping a fry into his milkshake like an absolute menace. “How nervous were you before this?”

I huff out a laugh. “On a scale from one to holy fuck, I think I’m gonna die? Solid eight.”

He snickers. “Damn, I was hoping you’d say ten. Would’ve been cute.”

I glare at him, but it’s half-hearted. “You like knowing I was freaking out?”

“A little,” he admits, grinning. “Means you care.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t fight the small smile forming on my lips.

⸻

After eating, we end up driving around aimlessly, music playing softly in the background. Nick keeps one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his lap, fingers tapping along to the beat.

The city lights blur past us, and for a while, neither of us speaks. It’s not awkward—it’s comfortable. The kind of silence that makes my chest feel light.

Then, out of nowhere, Nick says, “Pull up the maps real quick.”

I give him a confused look. “Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” he says, smirking. “Just trust me.”

I sigh dramatically but do as he says, entering the coordinates he gives me.

⸻

Fifteen minutes later, we pull up to an empty parking lot near a hilltop overlooking the city. It’s quiet, secluded—just the two of us and the view.

Nick cuts the engine and leans back, stretching his arms. “Figured we could just chill for a bit.”

I glance at him, then back at the city lights below. “This is actually kinda nice.”

He grins. “Duh. I have great taste.”

I scoff. “Debatable.”

He nudges me with his shoulder. “Admit it—you’re having fun.”

I shake my head, biting back a smile. “Maybe.”

Nick chuckles, then suddenly reaches over and tugs lightly at the sleeve of my hoodie. “C’mere,” he says softly.

My breath catches for a second, but I let him pull me closer. We’re not that close—just enough that I can feel the warmth of his body next to mine.

He’s quiet for a moment, then murmurs, “I was nervous too, y’know.”

I blink, turning to look at him. “Really?”

He nods, playing with the hem of his hoodie. “Yeah. I mean, I’m usually not good at… this.” He gestures vaguely between us. “Dating. Putting myself out there. But with you, it just… feels easy.”

My heart fucking stutters.

“…Yeah?” I say, voice barely above a whisper.

Nick meets my gaze, and there’s something different in his eyes—something softer. “Yeah.”

The air feels heavier now, charged with something I can’t quite describe. My pulse is loud in my ears, and I swear if I move even an inch closer—

Nick beats me to it.

It’s soft at first. Just a brush of lips, testing the waters. But then he tilts his head, deepening the kiss just enough to make my brain short-circuit.

I kiss him back, my hand coming up to rest lightly against his jaw. He hums against my lips, and I swear my heart might actually give out.

When we finally pull away, he licks his lips, grinning. “Well. That was nice.”

I huff out a laugh. “Yeah. Not bad.”

He raises a brow. “Not bad?”

I smirk. “I dunno, maybe I need another one to be sure.”

Nick chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re so fucking annoying.” But then he’s leaning in again, and—

Yeah. Best first date ever.

Batman family:

“I swear to fucking God, Chris—put that knife down before you lose a damn finger.”

Chris looks up from the cutting board, eyes wide with faux innocence, as he holds the knife in the most chaotic way possible—blade up, handle barely gripped, looking seconds away from catastrophe.

“You don’t trust me?” he asks, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense.

“Not even a little.”

He gasps, feigning heartbreak, before dramatically placing the knife down. “Wow. That hurts. I’m wounded.”

I roll my eyes, stepping closer. “No, but you will be if you keep holding it like that.”

Chris smirks, stepping forward until there’s barely any space between us. “Oh? You care about me getting hurt?”

I shove his shoulder. “No, I care about you bleeding all over the food, dumbass.”

He laughs, grabbing a bell pepper from the counter. “Alright, alright, chef. What’s next on our ‘let’s pretend we know how to cook’ agenda?”

I glance at the recipe on my phone. “We need to chop these peppers, dice the onions, and sauté everything before adding the chicken.”

Chris makes a face. “Why does cooking involve so much effort?”

“Because some of us can’t survive on Uber Eats and gas station snacks, Christopher.”

He groans, dramatically slumping against the counter. “Why are we even making dinner? We could be doing literally anything else.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Like what?”

His grin turns mischievous. “I dunno. I can think of a few things.”

I narrow my eyes. “If one of them involves me on my knees—”

“Whoa, whoa, sweetheart.” He raises his hands in mock innocence. “I was gonna say watching a movie or playing Mario Kart. But damn, if your mind went there, I’m not complaining.”

I grab a piece of onion and flick it at his forehead. “You’re an idiot.”

“And yet, you love me.”

I shake my head, but there’s no denying the smirk tugging at my lips. “Debatable.”

Chris gasps. “Debatable? You literally just threatened me over a knife because you care so much about my well-being.”

“Maybe I just don’t want blood in my food.”

“Nah, you love me,” he teases, reaching over and poking my cheek.

I swat his hand away, ignoring the way my stomach flips. “Shut up and chop your peppers.”

He grins but finally gets to work, slicing through the vegetables while I handle the onions.

It starts off normal. Well, as normal as cooking with Chris can get.

But then, of course, he happens.

“Babe.”

I glance up, halfway through dicing the onions. “What?”

Chris holds up a bell pepper ring and sticks his tongue through the hole. “Look, I’m giving head.”

I blink. “Chris.”

He cackles, clearly proud of himself.

“You’re fucking disgusting.”

He just grins. “You love it.”

I shake my head, going back to my chopping. “Just cut the damn vegetables, you menace.”

A few seconds of peace pass before Chris decides that’s too much.

“Babe.”

I sigh. “What now?”

He holds up another piece of pepper. “It’s a cock ring.”

“Oh my God.”

He laughs so hard he nearly drops the knife. “C’mon, that was funny.”

I shove his shoulder. “It was something.”

Chris grins, tossing a piece of pepper in my direction. I dodge it, flicking a piece of onion back at him in retaliation.

Before I know it, we’re full-on food fighting.

Chris chucks a tiny piece of pepper at me, so I throw an onion slice at his forehead. He retaliates by flicking water from the sink, and I grab a handful of flour from the counter, smacking it right onto his shirt.

He freezes. “Oh, you’re dead.”

I let out a squeal, sprinting around the kitchen as Chris chases me. “Chris, no—”

Too late. He grabs the bag of flour and dumps it right on my head.

I stand there, blinking through the cloud of white powder. “I hate you.”

Chris is doubled over, laughing so hard he can barely breathe. “You—look—like—a fucking—ghost.”

I glare, wiping flour from my face. “You’re the worst.”

Still cackling, he steps forward and brushes some of the flour from my cheek. “You still look cute, though.”

I roll my eyes, but my stomach flips at the way he’s looking at me—like he’s so amused, but also so in love.

I clear my throat, stepping back. “Are you actually gonna help cook, or are you just here to cause chaos?”

Chris smirks. “Can’t it be both?”

After cleaning up (mostly), we actually start cooking.

Chris is in charge of stirring while I season the chicken. Big mistake.

Because five minutes in, I smell something burning.

“Chris—”

“Relax, I got it.”

I look over and see smoke rising from the pan. “Chris, that’s literally on fire.”

His eyes widen. “Shit.”

He grabs the pan and starts blowing on it like it’s a birthday candle.

I slap his arm. “You dumbass—use the lid, not your breath!”

He quickly slams the lid on top, successfully smothering the flames. When he lifts it again, the chicken is… well, crispy as fuck.

We both stare at the pan.

Chris scratches the back of his head. “So… well-done?”

I groan. “Chris.”

“Okay, fine. Extra well-done.”

I glare. “It’s fucking charcoal.”

He smirks. “Maybe you should’ve been watching me instead of my ass.”

I gasp, smacking his arm. “I was not—”

“You totally were.”

I huff, crossing my arms. “You wish.”

Chris steps closer, smirking. “Oh, I know.”

I roll my eyes but can’t fight the grin creeping onto my lips. “You’re such an idiot.”

“And yet, you keep me around.”

“Unfortunately.”

Chris grins, grabbing my waist and pulling me in. “Admit it—you love my stupid ass.”

I pretend to think. “Mmm… maybe a little.”

He leans in, his nose brushing mine. “Just a little?”

I bite my lip, feeling the warmth of his hands on my waist. “Maybe more than a little.”

Chris smirks. “That’s what I thought.”

Before I can respond, he kisses me—soft but teasing, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

When he pulls back, he grins. “Now… let’s order pizza before we burn the whole kitchen down.”

I laugh. “Best idea you’ve had all night.”

Chris winks. “Second best.”

And just like that, we’re completely ignoring our failed attempt at cooking and settling in for a night of pizza, chaos, and maybe a few more kisses.

Not a bad trade-off.

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