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coryosbaby · 3 months

Note

i need more felix shit from u 😣😣

—Jealous Girl !

Fandom: ‘Saltburn’

Pairing: Felix Catton x fem! Best friend! Reader (also minor mentions of: Oliver quick x fem! Reader)

Synopsis: Tension and jealousy finally come to a head after you see your best friend Felix fucking another girl.

Content warning . Drug & alcohol use, watching without permission? possessiveness, friends to lovers with slight angst, dark! Ish reader // degradation & praise, facefucking, pnv, size kink, choking, breeding, mean! dom! Felix

If you ever explain how your best friend usually treats you, it can only be summed up into one word: gentle.

He treats you like glass. A beautiful, priceless artifact that requires great care. He pays for everything you own— your dresses, handbags, shoes. Even where you live, the infamous Saltburn estate. Every time he speaks to you, it’s like he’s speaking to a pet— sweet, gentle, but commanding all at once. In his eyes, you’re an innocent angel…or, as he puts it, a sweet bunny.

And you fucking hate it.

It doesn’t bother you in the sense that Felix cares for you; quite the contrary, in fact. You like his warmth, how protective he is, how sweet and kind he can be.

But he treats you too kindly. Too much like his other friends, too much like his sister, too much like a companion.

Not enough like a lover.

It seems that he’s completely oblivious to your longing stares, the way you follow him around and practically worship the ground he walks on. He never seems to grasp why you sit in his lap at parties, squirming around just a little too much, or why you cuddle up to him in his room when you’ve had a nightmare in your skimpy nightdress. He stares off into a space between and kisses girls right in front of you.

You want him to treat you like the sluts he brings home.

The whispers of how the boy fucks is something you’ve grown accustomed to. The girls you had become acquainted with who had slept with him, giggling to you about how much of a good lay he was. How mean, how brutal he was. How big he was.

‘This doesn’t bother you, does it? God, I know it’s weird because he’s your best friend ‘n all, but I don’t understand why you haven’t done him yet. I would’ve thought… y’know, given how close you two are...’

It makes you sick, knowing he does it to other girls and not you.

And now, sitting on a couch at one of Felix’s infamous Saltburn parties, you watch as he does it once again.

Your nose slides across the glass table in front of you. Two people sit beside you, making friendly conversation, but you can’t focus on them. Your nose is filled to the brim with glittery white powder as you stare at Felix’s new side piece through your faux lashes.

He’s got her in his lap, this girl. Olivia is her name, or something like that. You don’t like her. She’s too needy, clinging onto him a little too much for just a simple hookup. His hand grabs her hip as she presses kisses to his neck. He’s laughing, splayed across the leather couch across from you, as she whispers dirty phrases into his ear. You can tell that that’s what she’s doing because she’s grinding against him like a bitch in heat. It makes you stomach churn.

“(Y/N!)”

Your head looks up, and Farleigh stands in front of you. You give him a smile, though it’s mostly fake. You love him, but you can’t stop thinking about Felix.

Felix and her.

Farleigh chats with you about some guy he’s about to go and hook up with, telling you his whereabouts as a safety precaution. You nod to him as he leaves.

Felix has his hand up her skirt, now. He’s gripping her ass and rocking up into her clothed cunt.

You can’t look any longer.

You stumble to your feet, the room spinning a bit before turning to normal. An intoxicated kind of giddiness flows through you, and you brush past the couch and try to get Felix off your mind. You spot one of his new companions— Oliver. He’s quite handsome, you think. A little weird, a little quiet, but he’ll do for sure.

It isn’t long before you’ve got him in between your thighs in an empty corridor, a buzz flowing from your toes up to the crown of your head as he thrusts his tongue mercilessly into your drenched heat. He draws circles into your clit and laps at you like he’s parched. Oh, he’s good. Practiced, precise. He loves to please.

But he isn’t Felix.

Although Oliver’s tongue is skilled, it isn’t necessarily that that gets you to your peak. When you cum, you think of a familiar brunette with an eyebrow piercing, a wide smile, and dreamy eyes.

You let Oliver fuck you against the wall, after that.

It feels good. He’s big, rough, mean. Just how you like it.

Just how you want Felix to be.

You decide not to return to the party.

—

Your bare feet pad against the tiles of the Saltburn estate, your heels in your hand . The hallway is empty, save for one or two stragglers. No one really comes to this side of the house. You’re attempting to walk— or in this case, stumble— to your room. But everything is blurry, your feet dancing, and—

Shit, is this even your hallway?

You don’t know, really. You’re drunk, high. You don’t give a shit.

Your fingers are dancing across the walls, admiring the intricate paintings placed on each one. You lick your lips and taste a tequila shot, your dress askew. Fuck it.

You’re admiring The Fallen Angel by Alexandra Cabanel when you hear them.

It starts out slow— a deep, guttural moan, from the door to your left. It translates into a familiar voice, growling.

“What?” It teases. “Is my cock too much for you? Too big, huh?”

And then another sound comes through the thin walls and slightly opened door. A high pitched whine, pleading.

“Felix! Please, it feels so good.”

Your brows furrow. Drunken confusion. You silently creep up to the door, wondering. Your eyes peek through at the scene.

The color drains from your face.

Of course it’s Felix. Felix and her.

He’s got her bent over an expensive wood table. He’s pulling her hair, pressing his hips into her with every push and pull. She’s got her mouth open as her eyes roll back in ecstasy, and her cunt swallows him whole.

Your shoes drop to the ground in utter shock.

Now that seems to grab the pair’s attention. Felix looks back, and his eyes catch your dilated ones. He curses, slipping out of her and trying to conceal himself as he pulls his pants up. The girl catches sight of you, too, and she’s instantly pulling down her top and throwing her clothes on.

“Christ, Bunny!” Felix exclaims, flushed. “The fuck are you doing all the way over here?”

Your bottom lip wobbles, but you won’t cry. Not in front of him. Not in front of his whore.

You turn before you even know what you’re doing, and you scurry away from the scene with tears running hotly down your cheeks.

So much for parties.

—

When you wake in the morning, you’ve got a pounding headache and you’re sprawled out on your bed.

Your body aches, and you whine as you turn over on your side. The memories of last night flood back into your psyche, and you want to throw up. Of course the one thing you don’t want to remember is buried so prominently into your skull that it’s the first thing you think about.

It’s not like Felix hasn’t fucked anyone before. But seeing it, actually watching him do it to another girl, makes you sick. You don’t know how you’re going to look him in the eye at breakfast.

You stand up on wobbly legs. You make your way to the bathroom, throw your guts up at least twice, and then brush your teeth. A warm shower calms you down, though your head still hurts. You’ll have to take some ibuprofen later.

You make your way to the dining room in a juicy tracksuit and brown ugg boots. You slide a pair of sunnies on your face to protect you from the blinding sun, letting out a pained moan when it shines through the large stain glass window.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Farleigh coos from the table. You give him the middle finger before plopping down in a seat beside Oliver. His eyes scan over you, taking in your appearance. His knee bumps against yours, and he whispers a quiet ‘good morning’ to you.

God, he’s a clingy little shit, isn’t he?

Felix’s eyes follow your every move. Usually you sit next to him in the mornings, but as of right now, why bother? The closer to get to him, the more vivid the image of him fucking her comes into your mind.

You swallow down a few pieces of toast and some orange juice. Elsbeth is talking about a party reserved for Oliver for his birthday, one that they will host this weekend. How absolutely and utterly fan-fucking-tastic.

Oh, well. You’ll be able to dress up, at least. That’ll probably be the best part.

You ignore Felix for the entirety of the day. There’s still that fire coiling in your gut everytime you look at him, that hot bubble of rage and jealousy. Oliver looks up at you through long eyelashes during a game of tennis, and you find the way to satiate that heat.

—

It’s an awful idea. A terrible, mean, despicable idea.

You knew Felix would be out. It was around five pm— the time when he usually begins coming back to the house from his afternoon run. He would be back in twenty to thirty minutes.

“You’re incredibly fucked. Do you know that?”

Oliver whispers it huskily, pleased, as you push him down on a set of familiar satin sheets. You smirk, your cunt grinding down onto him.

“And you’re not?”

He grunts as you unbutton his shirt. You kiss down his chest, soon getting rid of your bra and top. You rock back on him slowly, teasing. His hand moves around to grope your ass, but you grab ahold of his wrist.

“Are you going to behave?”

A smirk plays on his lips. You want to slap it off of him.

“No.”

You snake your hand down to his bulge, giving it a considerable squeeze. He lets out a tiny gasp, biting his lower lip.

“What was that?” You say, almost threatening.

He gulps. He looks almost cute with the blush dusting across his face.

“Yes.” he whispers. You ghost your fingers over his waistband.

“What was that?”

“Yes, I’ll behave.”

He hisses it, and you’re pleased.

“Good boy.”

And then when he’s inside you, you bounce on him like your life depends on it. You look up above Felix’s bed, at the framed picture of you and him. He had hung it up, and for that you’re thankful. You concentrate on the way photo Felix’s fingers tightly grip a shot glass. Oliver lets out tiny whines as you clench around his cock, and you grind your clit against the base of him. You know that Felix catches you both when you look back at the slightly cracked door and see him there— blue headband, muscle tee and shorts. When you lock eyes, he moves away from the door and down the hall with a clenched jaw and cheeks blooming red.

—

The days pass from one into three, and soon it’s Oliver’s birthday. Felix has avoided you, much to your dismay. You thought he would give in sooner. If you didn’t know any better, you would think that he was trying to pretend the situation didn’t happen altogether. But the hard stare he gives you whenever he sees you, the clenching of his hands, and the plain ignorance of your presence gives him away.

You’ve decided to dress as a Bunny for Oliver’s infamous costume party. Your favorite animal, but also another way to piss Felix off. Wearing a pink bodysuit, sparkly fishnets, and pink bunny ears, you make your way into the party beside Venetia, who’s ranting about her current situationship with some girl she met at a club. Scanning the crowd, you take notice of Felix from across the room. Angel wings sit on his shoulders, his eyes lined with a black eye pencil. He’s wearing a white wifebeater.

You go to the bar and take a few shots to stifle your nerves. Felix’s eyes follow you as you grab a bottle from the bartender and make your way outside.

It isn’t long before you’re absolutely plastered. Giggling to yourself, you make your way towards the hedge maze in the backyard. Felix’s voice, the one he hasn’t used to talk to you directly for a few days, interrupts your diddle daddling.

“We need to talk.”

You keep walking, him trailing behind you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Felix.”

His big hand grabbing your arm and spinning you around to look at him surprises you. He glares.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You back away, winding through the labyrinth of bushes. Felix groans as you begin to skip around each corner.

“This isn’t a game, y’know!” He calls, as he tries his best to keep up with you. It isn’t long before you’re both standing in the middle of the maze. The stone statue overpowers the both of your bodies as it leers down in a violent pose. You smile crookedly when Felix stalks over to you, making a beeline for the other side of the statue. It doesn’t seem to be funny to him.

He catches you when you least expect it, grabbing you by the shoulders.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, (Y/N)?!”

He yells it, infuriated, deep vocal cords strumming. It makes you jump. He never calls you by your real name.

He purses his lips, anger evident on his face as you smile up at him still.

“‘M jus’ having fun, Fel. Whats wrong with that?”

“What’s— what’s wrong with—“ he laughs, dry and humorless, as he pushes you away from him. “Whats wrong is that you fucked my friend in my room! What the hell went through your head?!“

You clench your teeth.

“I don’t know, Felix,” you utter sarcastically. “I really don’t know. Call it irritational horniness. But tell me. Are you mad? For once, once in your fucking life, are you mad?”

“Of course I’m mad!” he seethes, as if it’s obvious. “But why do you want that? What prompted this?”

You avert from his piercing gaze, turning your back on him. Your cheeks are flaring with heat from how he’s treating you, your inner thighs wet and sticky.

God, this is so wrong.

“I think you know.”

Genuinely confused, Felix throws up his hands. He’s exasperated.

“No, I don’t. I don’t, (Y/N), so tell me. Tell me the damn truth!”

“The truth?” You say, finally. “‘S that what you want?”

You whirl around, anger finally taking over in your usually pliant, doe eyes.

“The truth, Felix, is that you treat me like a kid!” You yell. Your voice cracks, and you hate it. “You treat me like a fucking child! Like your friend! Like a… like a—“

Your breath heaves, and you try to find the words you’re looking for. Felix looks at you, his brows furrowed.

You can’t open your mouth anymore, too distraught, too open. You’re saying all the things you promised you’d keep buried deep inside you.

Felix takes a step forward. You take a step back. Your lower back hits the stone statue, and you wince at the way it digs into your skin.

“What are you saying?” He asks, careful with his words. You laugh bitterly in his face— at least, as close as you can get to his face. He towers over you like a giant.

“I’m saying that after all this time, after all these years, I thought you’d notice how badly I want you. But clearly not, with the way I caught you fucking that cunt last weekend.”

The words finally come out— slurred because of your drunkenness, dry because you’ve given up. You’ve given up on Felix, on the possibility of him ever returning the feelings you’ve always had for him. You’ve given up on your friendship, on his kindness. You don’t want it anymore. Why continue this if it’s only going to hurt you?

The boy is stunned into silence for a mere moment.

“What?”

You turn away from his stare, looking down at the ground.

“You heard me, Felix.”

His eyes follow your lips, nose, eyes. His lips part ever so slightly, and his eyes are so dark that they’re almost black as realization settles over him.

“So that’s what you want?”

It comes out hushed, like a secret. His breath is hot against your lips as he leans in close to you.

“All this time you’ve been acting like this.. all because you want me to fuck you? Because you’re jealous?”

You stare up at him in a daze, silent. Your cheeks flare with embarrassment. You jump when Felix lets out a chuckle, something grating and deep, that permeates your bones and worms its way inside your guts.

“God, you’re sick.”

He scoffs, moving forward on his long legs. His big hand wraps itself around your hair and tugs. You let out a gasp as he tilts your head back, the burn of your scalp making your legs clench together.

“You’ve been torturing me for weeks—“ he spits, yanking at the roots of your hair even harder, and you let out a squeak. “— Not speaking to me, making me question what I could’ve possibly done wrong, fucking my friend in my bed, all because you want to me treat you like some whore?“

Your mouth gapes open, and you’re frozen like a deer in headlights as Felix finally gives you what you want. He continues to speak, but not before his knee is coming up to rub in between your thighs. It’s such a sudden movement, so aggressive, that your legs buckle and you grab onto his shoulders for purchase. His hands splay across your hips, moving you in tandem across the fabric of his jeans.

“Don’t worry.” He says. “You’ll never have to worry about that again.”

“Felix—” you start, but his hand slapping you clear across the face makes you lose all words. Your cheek flares with heat from his hand coming down on it, and you grasp the red mark in pain.

“Was he good?” he growls, grabbing the hand touching your face and putting it in his much larger one. He places it over his crotch, and you feel the giant bulge against the fabric. “Was he as big as me? Did he fuck you the way you thought I would?”

You shake, stuttering on every phrase in your vocabulary. Felix grinds into your hand.

“You think that I don’t want you like this?”

It comes out strained, tortured. Like it’s painful for you to even assume that. Your mouth waters at the feeling of his girth underneath your palm.

“I’ve never been this hard for anyone,” he breathes. “I jerked my cock every night when you were in my bed because I thought it was the closest I could get to you. I fucking…God, do you even know what you do me?“

He works his thigh against your pussy, and you whine desperately as you pull away from his assault on you. You kiss your way down his chest, worship his body, lave your tongue over the skin peeking out from his unbuttoned shirt as you sink down to your knees. Your hands fumble with his belt, waiting for the moment when his cock will be released and you’ll finally get what you’ve been begging for. He grunts, tilting his head as he watches you desperately fumble with the leather around his waist.

“Already trying to suck me off? You’re even more pathetic than I thought.”

You press your mouth against his thigh and practically drool at his words. He looks down at you like a God, golden angel wings splaying out in the moonlight for you to gape at. How ironic it is, that he decided to wear this costume tonight.

“All for you, Felix,” you say, pulling his cock out of the confines of his jeans. You gape at his impressive length.

“That’s right,” he agrees, his thumb brushing over your lip. “Now put me in your mouth. Show me how much of a fucking slut you are.”

You do as you’re told, tongue lolling out to lick a stripe up his shaft. He clenches his jaw, watching as you hold eye contact with him when you take his dick into the warm, wet confines of your mouth. His hand wraps around the nape of your neck and he pushes you down onto him. Choking, your nose hits the soft bed of pubic hair trimmed neatly at his base. Your eyes roll back as he begins to fuck your throat, pleasure and electricity flowing through your head and down to your toes. The corners of your mouth burn as he stretches out your mouth.

“Didn’t know you could take dick so good,” Felix muses, his balls slapping against your chin. “If I would’ve known how badly you wanted this, I would’ve slid my cock inside you the night you caught me with that girl.”

That girl. He can’t even remember her name. It satisfies something dark that’s been blooming in you since you saw him sticking his dick where it didn’t belong.

You moan around him, spit trailing down your neck as you tongue at his slit. Your hands grip his big, meaty thighs, and it occurs to you just how strong he is. He could break you, rip you apart piece by piece, and you couldn’t do anything about it. The thought arouses you to no end.

“You pissed me off so fuckin’ much that night, y’know that?” He rambles, his thighs squeezing the sides of your face. He’s practically trapping you against his cock, and you try your hardest to breathe through your nose but you can feel your vision blurring at the edges. “You caught me in the middle of it, didn’t even say sorry. Didn’t help me finish. You’re a sick little bitch for watching me fuck her. I bet you touched yourself after that, didn’t you? Touched your little cunt thinking about the way I used her?”

You whimper around him, your fingers attempting to move down and rub against your clit. But Felix lets out a sound in the back of his throat and kicks your hand away.

“Don’t. You don’t get to cum tonight. You put your hands on me, or you don’t put them on anything at all.”

Your hands wrap around the back of his thighs, then, as you hollow your cheeks around him. You’ll do anything he demands you to.

After a long moment of being face fucked with only a few breathing breaks in between, your throat is scratchy and raw. Felix yanks you off of him, and you wheeze as you’re thrown to the ground, your hand going to your throat as your eyes drip with citrine tears. Felix stands for a moment to let you catch your breath. He’s still your best friend, after all— he cares about your well being, as angry as he is right now.

It isn’t long, however, before he’s grabbing you up by your elbow and bending you over the marble statue. Your cheek lands on the cold stone, the crotch of your bodysuit is ripped open, exposing your lace panties and the fat globes of your ass. You stick yourself out for him, moaning as he rips your underwear off of you and throws it on the ground. He spreads your legs and coos at your dripping cunt.

“Oh, look at that,” his fingers go to either side of your pussy lips, spreading them apart and revealing your teeny tiny hole. “It’s clenching s’much, isn’t it, sweetheart? It’s all swollen ‘n red. It’s been so worked up all night, I bet.”

“Felix,” you cry, a blubbering mess. “Please.”

He chuckles, rubbing the tip of his finger against your clit. You quiver underneath his touch, gasping when his aching cockhead suddenly brushes up against your entrance.

“I want to know how badly you want me. Tell me, darling. Tell me how pathetic you are.”

“I want it,” your voice comes out small, weak. “I want you to fuck me until I can’t feel my legs. Wan’ you to stretch me out on your fat cock, Felix. Give it t’me, pleasepleaseplease…”

He lets out a dreamy sigh, feeling you trying to clench around the tip of his cock, trying to suck him in. Your head is fuzzy, your cunt throbbing. You need him more than you need air.

“Okay,” he lets out, whispering. It’s an oddly gentle tone, and you know it’s because this situation could change the outcome of your friendship forever. “Okay, sweetheart.”

He pushes forward, the fat tip of his cock popping into your entrance, and you let out a mewl. Felix is big, and not just in his height or his shoulders. He stretches you so deliciously to the point where it’s borderline painful.

“Oh my god,” he grits his teeth, his head tipping back. “God, you’re a tight little thing. So tiny..”

You know he’s talking to your pussy now, drunk off the way you’re wrapping around his shaft. He moves slow, gentle strokes against your aching pussy, his fingers digging bruises into your hips as he struggles to contain himself.

Your cheek is smushed against the hard surface below you, but that doesn’t stop you from speaking.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, moaning. “Destroy me, rip me apart.. I don’t care, Felix.”

He moans along with you, a sound of pure, unleashed pleasure. His hips speed up, and he fucks into your cunt with reckless abandon as your nails dig into the marble below you. His cock is so deep that you can almost feel him in your throat.

He angles at a spot inside that has you keening, your hips fucking back onto him as he rams into you. Your nails scrape against the statue, tears running down your cheeks.

“Felix,” you moan out, but it’s hard to speak as the breath is being knocked out of you.

“Mmm,” he hums, grabbing your hips. “‘M gonna cum. ‘M gonna cum in your sweet little pussy.”

“Please,” you gasp. “Please, fill me up, fill up my pussy!”

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” His arms lift your body up, and his biceps curl around your neck. Your eyes widen as he tightens his grip, placing you in a chokehold underneath him. His hips slap against yours, his steady words bordering on a whine. “You want me to cum inside you? Get you all pregnant and full? Mmm, that’d be a pretty sight, wouldn’t it…”

You clench down on him. He growls, a sigh of your name tumbling out of his mouth. His hips stutter. And with one last harsh thrust, he’s cumming. His warmth fills you to the brim and spills over the cusp as he fucks into you, teeth scraping against your neck as he bites down and leaves a mark. Sweat drips drown your temple, small pants escaping your lips as you try to swallow oxygen into your lungs. Felix’s arms are still wrapped around you neck, but they aren’t wrapped tight enough to cut off your air completely.

Definitely tight enough to bruise, though.

He slows, after a few more moments. You still grind onto his overstimulated cock, and he squeezes your throat in warning.

“What did I tell you? You don’t get to cum tonight.”

Your face becomes blotchy with tears, and you sob as he pulls out of you. His cum spills down onto the concrete floor, your pussy gushing with his seed, and you want to scream.

“But Felix,” you babble, grabbing onto his arm as he tucks himself back into his pants. “No, baby, please—“

“This is what you wanted,” he replies, nonchalant, as if he didn’t just fuck your brains out. His glances down at the creamy spend that had fallen out of you and onto the ground. Grabbing you by your hair, he pushes you down onto your knees. He gestures to his cum, licking his lips.

“Now clean that up,” he demands. “Wouldn’t want to leave a mess, would we?”

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry

#bunny writes ͟͟͞☆#Felix Catton #Felix Catton x reader #Felix Catton x fem! reader #Felix Catton smut #Felix Catton fanfic #Felix Catton blurb #Felix Catton one shot #Felix Catton Drabble #Felix Catton Saltburn #saltburn #saltburn 2023 #saltburn fanfic #Felix Saturn #Oliver quick #Jacob Elordi #dom! Felix Catton #sub! reader

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wosoamazing · 3 months

Text

Emails, Transfer Disputes and Harper

Summary: You get a long awaited email, there are some transfer disputes at camp and you spend time with Harper

Warnings: Some swearing, yelling I guess, angst (I think)

A/N: Plot twist..... maybe, maybe not?

You were sitting against the back wall of the common room finishing off the last of your schoolwork for the day. When you got an email, not just an email, the email, you opened the email and started reading, not caring that essentially the rest of the team was in the room.

‘Dear Y/F/N Williamson, this email is regarding your senior education, blah blah, after many discussions within our team and consultations with Arsenal FC and Football Australia we have come to a decision on your request, blah blah, I am pleased to inform you that your request has been fulfilled in addition to the removal of all internal exams, which will instead be replaced with assignments, thus in your final year of your education you will have three assignments per subject to complete. Blah blah blah’

It’s safe to say a wave of relief flooded over you, you had put in this request 6 months ago, your final year of school was looming just 3 weeks away now, and so too were the Olympics in a year, tears started to stream out your eyes, you couldn’t believe it, you didn’t think they would say yes, the request was purely put in to see, no one thought they would say yes, let alone do more.

“What’s wrong” a soft voice said as a small hand was placed on your shoulder, you looked up to see sweet little Harper in front of you.

“These aren’t sad tears Harps, these are happy tears,” you replied to her, pulling her in for a great big hug.

“What’s happening, are you okay Y/N/N?” Steph said as her and Sam walked in totally confused, everyone turned around to see you tears streaming down you face, hugging harper, with a huge smile on your face, they were also totally confused.

“They, they said yes Steph,” “Who did? Wait. No, they said yes! Om my God, I’m so happy for you.”

“Who said yes?” “The education people, she-”

“Read,” you said shoving the computer into Steph’s hands, standing up, now holding Harper, who just pressed her head into the crock of your neck and relaxed, which Mini took a photo of, she had so many photos of you and Harper together, she could fill a stadium with them.

“Dear Y/F/N Williamson, this email is regarding your senior education, whatever, whatever, after many discussions within our team and consultations with Arsenal FC and Football Australia we have come to a decision on your request, whatever, I am pleased to inform you that your request has been fulfilled in addition to the removal of all internal exams, which will instead be replaced with assignments, thus in your final year of your education you will have three assignments per subject to complete. Whatever, whatever.” Said read the email out loud, her mouth dropped in shock. “Wait, they’re doing more?”

“Yep” you replied emphasising the P.

“Wait this means you are available to be picked for the Olympics now, we need to go to Tony”.

“You do know there is no guarantee you will be picked though right” someone said.

“Uh, have you seen the girl play,” Sam responded.

“She makes the oppositions defence look like a joke; trust me I’ve been on the other side of it” Alanna added.

“Anyway, if I don’t get picked for this team, I have been promised there is a spot for me on another team. I’ll tell Tony tomorrow; I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been told as well though.”

“You know what I loved to see you place against Barca,”

“Well, if you accept Emma’s offer that could hap-” Sam started but you cut her off “Yeah and if I accepted Barca’s offer I could play for Barca.”

“Wait, you’ve got offers from Barca and Chelsea?” Steph asks.

“Yeah, and City, and like basically every other club, can we not talk about this right now?”

“But have you actually thought about this, this is serious,” “Yeah, I’m not an imbecile contrary to what you may think, Arsenal found out and offered more than Barca and Chelsea, but they raised them, I told Arsenal, and they are coming back to me,”

“Wait, Emma raised her offer? She was already offering more than she pays me, that’s insane, and Barca did too, and Arsenal might raise them again.” Sam questions with surprise in her voice.

“Yeah” you say back to her, slightly insulted by how much shock she is in.

“So, you’re staying at Arsenal?” Caitlin askes.

“I don’t know, I have to think about it, talk to my parents about it, have the dreaded conversation with Leah, honestly Leah is probably the reason Arsenal is trying to raise again, if I go, she’ll probably go too. But even if she doesn’t go lets be honest, the team works the way it does and its successful because of the dynamic we have, a very fragile dynamic at that, with any one of us gone, its going to fall down a cliff, which is risky, its risky to stay at Arsenal, Barca might not ever offer this sort of money again, or even worse they might not ever give me an offer again” you pause for a moment before you put Harper on the ground “why don’t you go back to your Mama” she nods and walks back over to Mini, who sends you an apologetic look, she knew why you put Harper down and it shouldn’t have to be that way but it is “Arsenal is the dream team, you are all amazing everyone there is my family, but Barca is also the dream team, playing with the best players day in day out at training, competing against some of the best, a +66 goal difference, I mean how could you not want that, and the fact that they increased their offer after Arsenal raised them that means something, you get an offer at Barca you jump at it you, don’t look at the figure, you don’t question, we all know how it works, you question, you hesitate Barca takes the offer away, and Lucy and Kiera say everyone there is super friendly and lovely and they think I would fit right in.”

“You’ve spoken to Lucy Bronze and Kiera Walsh about Barca? But haven’t mentioned a word about it to anyone at Arsenal, your club”.

“Yeah, it’s not like I owe you guys anything”.

“So, Chelsea isn’t on the cards th-” “No Sam Chelsea isn’t on the cards, Chelsea was never on the fucking cards, it was always going to be Baraca or Arsenal. Why am I letting you all do this to me? It’s my decision. It’s my fucking life! I’m going up” you start to walk away, before you turn around and look at Sam and Steph “and don’t you dare even think to follow me,” and with that your gone.

______

“Shit” Sam said.

“Well, we fucked that one up,” Steph added.

“Yep, you did” Raso replied as she got up.

“Where are you going?”

“To go check on her,”

“But-” “no, that was directed at you two, and also anyone else who said something, I’m neutral territory here”.

The team was left in silence until Steph broke it “Shit, I have our Room key. We were on better terms this morning; we didn’t think she would need her own”.

“I’ll go up, give it here, she probably won’t want to stay in there tonight anyway. She can stay with me. Here Charli take Harper, I’ll be back down for her though”.

____

“Hey kid, are you okay?” Hayley asks you; she seems very hesitant, she didn’t get much else in before Mini came up.

“Rass, I’ve got it from here” Mini said, Hayley got up and left, knowing this was more of a Mini job.

Mini sat down next to you, “No, but are you okay?” she asks while putting an arm around your shoulders, a few tears escape your eyes, which you quickly and aggressively wipe away.

“I-I, I don’t know” you sigh.

“They shouldn’t have done that, they immediately regretted it, but still they shouldn’t have done that, it’s absolutely incredible that, this is happening, they should be happy for you, but I think they let their pride and hurt egos get in the way.”

“I just don’t understand how they can go from talking about how ‘amazing’ I am to then being surprised I got an offer from more than one club, and from big clubs at that.”

“Yeah, I know, I think Steph was a bit caught out, she spends so much time with you and-”

“Yeah, but it’s not like anyone knew, not even Leah”.

“Yeah, I know, I think Steph was truly caught off guard, you talk like Arsenal is your home and then just blurt out you’re thinking about moving, I don’t think she thought you had thought about it.”

“Well, Arsenal is my home, but they say home is where the heart is, and I think if you take out the players my heart isn’t there, and I just feel like things are getting too easy at Arsenal, and I want a change, I’ve been part of arsenal for so long, first through Leah, then the academy and now, I love arsenal, it will always hold a piece of my heart, but I think I need to move, I want to improve, and that’s not going to happen at Arsenal”

“Well, that was easy”.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty certain you’ve made your decision, you just need to tell Leah, and the others. Trust me, once they get over their hurt egos, and feelings of betrayal they will be happy for you, and Leah has already been caught off guard by you once”.

“Yeah okay, where is my number one supporter by the way?”

“Oh she is downstairs with Charli, I thought it was best if I left her down there so we could have an adult conversation, but I have this which you might want.” She hands you your room key, “get the stuff you’ll need for tonight and tomorrow, you can have a sleepover with harper and me tonight, she is going to be so excited.”

“Y/N/N!” Harper exclaims when she walked into her room to find you sitting there.

“Harper” you exclaim back matching her energy, she jumps into your arms, and you throw her into the air and catch her, before jumping onto the bed, “what do you want to do?”

“Ice cream?” you look over to Mini.

“Why not, let’s go”. You Mini and Harper go out to ice-cream together, as you walk past the others in the common room you just ignore them, they all seem to be sitting in an awkward silence.

“Harper, you are all sticky, where are the wipes?” you exclaim as harper smushes her sticky face into you for a hug after she had finished her ice-cream.

“Here,” Mini slides the wipes over to you.

“No don’t, hey come back here,” Mini pulls her phone out to film the two of you, harper is running around the park to get away from you and you’re chasing her with a wipe in either hand.

“Ha, got you,” you say as you grab her, proceeding to wipe her sticky face and hands.

“Park?” “You want to go play in the park?” Harper nods her head, so you take her hand and walk over to the park together, you spent most of the afternoon in the park. You pushed harper on the swings. Unsuccessfully taught her how to pump herself on the swings. You went down the slide, a few too many times. Your afternoon was finished off by teacher harper how to do the monkey bars, which she was very good at – with help of course. Mini sat at the table while you two played, she looked up every now and then to check things were okay, but she seemed to make many phone calls, usually you would ask who it was, but you were having too much fun with harper to care.

_____

“I just won’t have dinner tonight, I’ll be fine,” “No, you will be going to dinner, Tony said he wanted everyone there, especially after what happened today, and no one is allowed to leave until he has spoken to us” you huff “Come on lets go now, you can sit with us, just sit at one of the back tables, you can then sit somewhere so you don’t have to see them,” Mini said as she dragged you up.

“Here take her, go sit, I’ll get food,” Mini says handing Harper to you as you walk into the dining room, there are only 4 people in there currently not including you three, yet somehow one of the people you really don’t want to see is standing at the food bar. You go and find a seat, Mini comes back, with food. You have finished yours, but Harper hasn’t even touched her diner, she insists you feed her, so that you do, until Mini saw something.

“Um,” “What?” “I’ll message you,” she pulls out her phone, you phone vibrates on the table, and you quickly pick it up to read her message.

Gorry: Steph just walked in, gave Sam a dirty look as she walked past and Sat down at a different table.

Your jaw drops and Mini nods her head, you make questioning eyebrows at her and she just shrugs. You two captains always sat next to each other during mealtimes, or at least at the same table, you were often seen with them too but every now and then you sat with others, trying to expand your social circle. So, the fact that they aren’t sitting together is very odd.

After everyone had basically finished their dinner Tony got up, and started to talk, “Girls, I would just like to say the behaviour today was unacceptable, and I am extremely ashamed at the actions of our captains and older teammates, if anything it was our youngest teammate who showed the most maturity by walking away. Please know that if this sort of behaviour ever happens again on camp there will be punishment, and I’m not just talking laps. Steph and Sam can I talk to you outside please, the rest of you are free to enjoy your night.”

“I can’t believe I am having to do this girl, and I still can’t believe I saw what I saw this afternoon.” Tony starts yelling at your captains not realising the door hasn’t shut completely.

“Wait what happened? Why am I not getting in trouble, he wasn’t there was he?” you ask Mini.

“I don’t know, and no he wasn’t”.

“Oh boy did you two miss something, it was kind of good you left when you did,” Macca started.

“Yeah so basically once you had gotten harper and left, Steph finally broke the really awkward silence and asked Sam why she reacted the way she did when you said Arsenal raised and then Barca and Chelsea did again, and Sam was like ‘She is only sixteen and getting paid more than me, and I’m assuming you too’, which to be honest was a low blow, like she just attacked Steph there but anyway, Steph then said ‘Well, yeah she is fucking good’, and Sam replied ‘oh course you would say that,’ Steph asked her what she meant and she was like ‘oh well she’s your little mini me, always with you, always coming to you for help, and you always drop everything to help her, you act as if she is the sun and we all revolve around her’ which obviously Steph was taken aback by and was like ‘Oh, so now I’m the bad guy for not only fulfilling my captain duties but being a nice person, you know Sam we are meant to be approachable and help our teammates especially the younger ones, and of course she comes to me for help, she’s a kid, like we joke Kyra and Charli and all that are kids but she is actually a kid, you have to take more care with her, help her more, help her understand. Just because your ego is hurt at the fact that a 16-year-old is going to get paid more than you and you don’t know how to feel because a 16-year-old is better than you doesn’t mean you can take it out on me, and you are blind if you actually were surprised that Barca and Chelsea raised their offers again, she is incredible, will be the player of her generation,’ and then Sam just scoffed and was like ‘whatever you suck up’ and then Tony walked in and got super mad and send us all to different rooms and stuff” Hayley gives you both a brief recount of the day.

“Yeah, you really did miss a lot,”

“Yeah, it seems we did,”

“But wait Steph was protecting me, I thought she was having a go at me? I think I was just so mad at Sam; I kept it going”.

“Yeah no, originally I don’t know if she was having a go or just questioning but after you left, she really did confront Sam and I mean Sam was in the wrong, Steph could’ve just dealt with it in a better way.”

_____

“I think someone is tired, should we head up?” you say, after Harper yawns, looking at Mini for confirmation who nods, you pick harper up and rest her on your hip, she puts her head on your shoulders and her eyes start to droop. Once you arrive to your room you get dressed into your Pjs and so does Harper, you both already have had your showers for the day.

A phone vibrates and look over to mini, “that was you”, so you pick up your phone to see a message from Steph.

Steph: Hey can we talk? I understand if you don’t want too.

You: Hey um yeah but it’s easier if we message, Harper has fallen asleep on top of me.

Steph: Yeah, no that’s fine, I don’t know if I’m allowed to come out of our room anyway and if you even allowed to come in.

You: Oh

Steph: But I just wanted to say sorry for what happened this afternoon, I was out of line, and I just want to apologise, I am really sorry.

You: For what happened when I was there or what you said to Sam?

You: But in all honesty, it’s okay, I was getting defensive at Sam and snapped at you when you didn’t deserve it you were just questioning. But also thank you for stepping up and confronting Sam for me even if it got you in trouble.

Steph: Wait who told you about that?

Steph: But I was just telling her the truth and really, I should’ve stopped her earlier, it shouldn’t have gotten to the point that you had to walk away.

You: It’s okay Steph, I promise I forgive you but maybe not Sam, at least not yet. She was mean to both of us.

Steph: Okay, I will make it up to you I promise.

You: Hmmm, I will think about what I want…..

Steph: I never said I would by you anything, maybe I was just going to be nice, get you out of fitness testing

You: Hey no, that isn’t nice, I looove fitness testing

Steph: Weirdo

You: Hey

You: Love you heaps, good night (well not for you but for me), see you tomorrow, I can’t wait to see you! I have so much to tell you.

You: Shit that was meant for Leah not you

You: But love you anyway, see you in the morning.

Steph: Love you, sorry again, night night

_____

You were standing at the breakfast bar contemplating your morning meal like you were contemplating life when you saw Steph walk in, you immediate walked over to her and hugged her, in which she returned wrapping her arms around you tightly as if to never let go, you could really sense her guilt, you stayed like that for at least a minute and only pulled away because Sam wanted to talk to you.

“Hey, I’m sorry for yesterday, I shouldn’t have said what I said, and I’m really sorry” she said very awkwardly.

“Okay, thank you.” You say bluntly before walking away.

“What so she is hugging you, but I don’t even get an I forgive you?”

“Well, she doesn’t like lying and I don’t think she does forgive you yet,” Steph said before walking away and following you.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #matildas #auswnt

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phfenomena · 4 months

Text

❝state of grace.❞ || tom blyth x f!reader

| request- state of grace by taylor!!!!

| A/N- i’m using every goddamn line of this song in it. it’s too good to be ignored. justice for state of grace it’s my fav on red 😞😞

| WARNINGS- strange men in cafes, wine, monopoly, mentions of murdering josh, mentions of robbery, two goofballs in love, and big ol’ smooches

(divider by @v6que)

i’m walking fast through the traffic lights, busy streets and busy lives.

you’ve scrambled out of your apartment and are speed walking throughout the brooklyn streets in hopes of getting to your audition on time. being an aspiring actress in new york isn’t easy, but it’s all you wanted to do. nothing else called to you like acting, but the constant state of franticness and stress was taking a toll.

your mind begins to wander around the fact that the thousands of people you see tonight have their own lives, they’re trying to get home to their families, or their significant other, they have something to go home to.

all we know is touch and go.

after the disaster that one could call your audition, you figured you deserved a coffee. the cozy and serene café was one you frequented, on the days you had time. the chipper and almost too happy barista starts your drink the second she sees you cross the threshold of the doors. you go to take your usual seat by the window but stop upon seeing a man sitting there.

you stop and stare before ultimately deciding to just take the seat next to his, no, your usual seat. being too tired to even try to muster up the emotional strength to be upset, you plop down and place your head on the table. “you look like you really need this today.” jessie, the barista, says and places the mug of coffee next your head. you offer a small thanks and stare into the dark liquid.

we are alone with our changing minds, we fall in love till’ it hurts or bleeds.

the man occupying your space turned to look at you and he looked completely contrary to you, bright blue eyes, a smile, and he just looked content. he’s definitely attractive, but your brain couldn’t find any room for this man to move into.

“rough day, eh?” his accent makes you tilt your head towards him, he is really cute, you can’t lie. you nod your head tiredly and sip on your coffee. he stand up and takes the seat across from you and stick his hand out. “i’m tom, and you look like you could use a friend right now.” you shake his hand with a small smile and place the mug back down. “well, tom, how are you so good at reading people?” you pipe up after telling him your own name.

“it’s a talent i posses, love. can’t help it. i’m an empath.” his answer makes you laugh harder than you have in months. maybe this day wasn’t so bad after all. “there we go! you laughed, that was my whole goal. reckoned it would’ve taken longer, but i did it.” tom patted himself on the back as you shook your head with a small smile. “a woman of very few words, i see?”

you hum “i don’t know what to say to you, tom. a strange man approaches me in a cafe after i’ve had a bad day, what do i say to that?” he puts a finger on his chin to over exaggerate his thinking. “you could tell me about yourself, or i could tell you about myself. you just look lonely.” his eyes widen as he realizes he just called you lonely. he wasn’t wrong, but still hurt your feelings nonetheless.

“okay, i’m from california. everyone i know still lives there so it’s a little difficult to not be lonely here, but you don’t seem to be very not lonely. you’re sitting in a cafe by yourself and talking to strangers.” he throws his head back laughing. yeah, he’s really cute.

you come around and the armor folds, pierce the room like a cannonball.

after consistently hanging out with tom for a few months you’ve gotten into a routine. text tom good morning, tell him what you’re doing that day, and that you hope he has a good day. through him you’ve met some great friends, but you and rachel stuck together like glue instantly.

“so you’ve known tom for like seven months, and he still hasn’t come over to your apartment?” rachel asks in between sips of wine. you both sit on toms couch as the others are in the kitchen mixing drinks. “yes! i don’t know why i’m so nervous about it, it just feels too intimate for him to see it.” you and rachel giggle into eachother. it might be the wine, but you’ve never felt happier.

tom comes running into the living room, obviously drunk. “try this, i’ve perfected my concoction.” he shoves a foul smelling drink into your face. you look up at him and smile, “tom, this smells terrible. what the hell is in this?” he smells it himself and shrugs. “about a pour of everything.” you turn to rachel as if pleading for her to help. “i think i heard josh say he needs your help in the kitchen.” tom pipes up and struts back to the kitchen.

“someone needs to cut him off, he’s gonna be so sick tomorrow.” you manage to squeeze out in between your laughs. rachel wiggles her eyebrows at you “and you’ll be the one taking care of him.” you turn your head away from her with a pained expression. “i’m going to the kitchen to see what the hell they’re doing.”

so you were never a saint, and i loved in shades of wrong.

you lay flat on toms floor while he sits next to you, you’re talking about how you were as teenagers and before you met eachother. “no i was literally evil, i would ghost any girl that liked me.” toms cheeks are blushed from all the laughing. “i was the same way! i just never loved anyone right, and i was just really mean.” tom brushes a stray piece of hair out of your face that was stuck on your eyelashes. you stare up and him and swallow, you jet up to your feet. “i’m hungry, let’s go grab something.”

this is a state of grace, this is the worthwhile fight. love is a ruthless game.

josh, rachel, tom and you sit circled around your coffee table. monopoly laying on the table and wine in all of your hands. “that’s not fair! i’m in jail and josh gets to buy my properties?” you yell out as josh wheezes next to you. your eyes meet toms and you glance down at his wine stained lips. “you’re the bank, tom! tell him no and that i’m still a citizen!” “afraid you’ve dug your own grave, love. robbery does land you in jail.” he knowingly points his finger at you. “who said i committed robbery?! this is a corrupt world.”

rachel decided it might be best to put the game away before you actually do end up in jail for killing josh. the four of you sit on the couch watching some marvel movie. you turn your head to tom and whisper “so how did i commit robbery? what did i steal?” obviously still stuck on how you never won the game. he smirked down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “my heart, love.” you pull away from him and pretend to gag onto rachel, who is sound asleep.

this is the golden age of something good and right and real. and i never saw you coming.

you wake up blearily and sit up. then a wall of pain shoots into your head as you look to your surroundings. tom is in your bed next to you. oh my god. tom is in your bed. he groans and grabs his head “what time is it? and how much wine did we drink?” he asks, acting like this is just a normal situation. “i have no idea where my phone is and apparently a lot because i feel like i got hit by a train.” you croak out laying back down.

toms arm finds its home around your waist and he cuddles into your back. “let’s just go back to sleep.” you nod and try to push down the sheer panic rising throughout your form. when you awake a few hours later, tom is gone. almost disappointed you walk out into your living room and find rachel and josh sitting there looking quite grumpy. “are you guys oka-” josh shushes you and goes back to rubbing his temples. you mutter a small sorry and walk into your kitchen, seeing tom making coffee. his bed head and sleep ridden eyes make your stomach feel warm and fuzzy.

“good morning.” you grumble and he laughs. “it’s three o’clock in the afternoon.” you laugh with him and rest your head on the counter waiting for the coffee. “i didn’t think we drank that much last night, i don’t even remember most of it.” you confess with furrowed eyebrows trying to rake back through your memories.

tom looks almost solemn at your confession and nods. “yeah, me too. it’s all blurry.” he remembered everything. last nights escapades slowly come back as you think and you excuse yourself to the bathroom. thinking of what happened last night.

you and tom sat on your bedroom floor as you showed him all the books you’ve collected and his smile was so wide it made your heart jump at the sight. you rambled on and on about how you read the ballad of songbirds when it came out and how he channeled coriolanus so well but he was just staring at you, the wine coursing through both of your bloods. he lunged forward and captured your lips with his causing you to drop your book and wrap your arms around him.

you quickly brush your teeth and comb through your hair, trying to look somewhat decent. you slowly tread back into the kitchen and stare at tom. “i remember last night.” you quickly confessed. biting the inside of your cheek as tom turns to look at you. “do you regret it?” he quietly asks before you shake your head and step closer to him. “no, i don’t. i’ve liked you since i met you.” he smiles and wraps his arm around you while pouring your coffee into your favorite mug.

these are the hands of fate, you’re my achilles heel.

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sugrhigh · 3 months

Text

BOY NEXT DOOR 2 - ( c.s )

part one

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- swearing, kissing, that’s it i think

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: PART TWOOOOO!!!! i hope u guys like this series i’m having a lot of fun with it (and s/o to my girl @cutenote for letting me use her name). self-indulged this chapter and made the reader a flyers fan so SRY but anyways, enjoy! next thing im putting out is a matt request and then i’ll be working on this series and the tattooartist!reader x matt series. if you have other reqs, questions, confessions, etc, my inbox is open 🫶🏻

@cutenote @mattsmunch @mattybsbitch @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss

your stomach flips as you stare in the mirror, twisting and turning every which way to make sure you look alright. you’re in one of chris’s jerseys, repping the crimson and gold colors of boston university, complete with the little ‘C’ emblem for captain.

he left it in your mailbox earlier on his way to the arena, demanding that you wear it instead of the BU sweatshirt you had planned on going in. so you listened to him, even though you’re not really sure why.

your hair and makeup are all done, contrary to the last time chris saw you, when you were in his house threatening to call the cops. it feels performative, getting all dressed up for something you don’t even want to go to.

but what the hell, you hadn’t seen the team play at all this year, and if you look your best you’ll feel your best. at least, that’s what you convinced yourself would happen.

“are you done up there? we need to leave, games gonna start soon!” one of your roommates calls from the living room.

you sigh and turn away from your own reflection so you can head for the stairs. cassidy and ramona are both waiting for you on the couch as you round the corner, also decked out in BU merch.

you’re just lucky you had been able to convince them both to come with you, so you don’t have to stand by yourself.

“took you long enough.” cassidy mumbles under her breath as she stretches her legs and stands up.

mona mimicks her movements, but not without shooting her a glare. “be nice, she’s obviously nervous.”

“no i’m not!” you protest, and now they both give you an eye roll as they pass you to get their coats from the closet.

“your voice just went up ten octaves.” cass snarks.

you are anxious, but it’s just because of the unknown. you still haven’t figured out what chris is angling at, besides maybe sleeping with you, which isn’t gonna happen. well, probably not at least.

no, not ever. oh my god.

“i’m not nervous. i just wish i could back out.” you double down, turning to see them both pulling on their big winter jackets.

“you used to love hockey, you just don’t like chris. one game won’t kill you.” ramona replies.

“and you also didn’t have to agree.”

this accusation makes your face flush, in embarrassment and in denial. “he wouldn’t have stopped that party if i didn’t. and you know i could never actually call the cops.”

ramona stays silent as cass laces up her shoes. “whatever you say babe. you look cute in his jersey either way.”

“cassidy!” you whine in exasperation.

“i’m honestly not sorry.”

the entire walk to the get to the game is spent harassing you, which is a solid twenty minutes because you live off campus. ramona does try to keep it to a minimum, though you can’t really blame them for the questions. you have them too.

it’s always been weird with you and chris. you hate his attitude, how people fall to his feet like he’s some sort of god. you can’t stand the way he talks to you like he can read your mind, or how you always catch him staring at your lips just so he can pretend like he wasn’t.

he does it to every girl, and you don’t know why he’s taking all of these extra steps to try and get you into bed.

maybe because you see through it, and you don’t want any part of him. he said it himself, he doesn’t want a relationship, and you’re not looking to get an STD, so you don’t know why he’s bothering.

you finally arrive at the facility, and your stomach flips. tons of people are out tonight, of course. the sun is long gone with it being winter and all, so the lights are extra overwhelming as you step inside.

you head through security and scan your passes, ones that are specifically right beside the student section in the very front. chris gifted them to you for free since you didn’t get season tickets, right by the glass so he knows where you are.

even when you were a pain in the ass and insisted you needed two more for your roommates, he made it work. it was a little impressive.

you find your seats, and the boys are already on the ice warming up. you spot chris from the jersey number, 3, and you can see his long hair poking out from underneath his helmet.

he’s focused on taking a practice shot, but as he skates by the glass afterwards you see him looking, like he isn’t sure if you showed up. but then he finds you, and you can actually see his stupid smile.

he waves, just a tiny one, before he goes right back to drills. you’re thankful he didn’t make it dramatic, because you know there’s plenty of girls in the stands who want him, and have probably already been with him.

you each take your coats off and hang them on your chairs. you know the fact that you having his last name plastered across your back doesn’t help the attention, but people can think what they want.

you don’t give a fuck. cassidy was right, it’s cuter on you anyways.

they head into the locker room quickly after your arrival, and even more people fill in to watch the show. the student section is loud as the facility finally goes dark, and the team skates back onto the ice moments later.

spotlights flood the stadium, highlighting different players as both teams line up along the neutral zone. you cheer extra loud when they announce the starting lineup and call chris’s name, even despite your vendetta against him.

no use being a shitty fan if you’re already here.

they get ready for the face off after the national anthem, and BU gets the puck. it’s back and forth for a while, and you find yourself groaning and cheering with the rest of the crowd during every play.

the first goal of the game is scored within fifteen minutes, by one of his other roommates ben, of all people. you and your friends are jumping around like maniacs, and you can see him laughing at you guys after they’re all done celebrating on the ice.

it makes you wonder if chris told them you’d be here, but you force yourself to eat the popcorn cass bought and stop thinking about it.

the second period begins and BU keeps possession for most of it, pretty much dominating their opponent. in the final thirty seconds, chris drives down the rink to score another goal.

you throw your hands up without thinking, and you let the excitement take over. “fuck yeah!”

cassidy and ramona are screaming too, shaking you by the shoulders wildly.

he comes skating over, pointing right at you as he does a lap near the student section. heads turn, and you can literally feel people staring at you now, even despite the noise and the chaos.

but you’re alive, and you can’t get enough of this environment, so you keep cheering for him regardless of the burning feeling of eyes on you.

“that was cute.” ramona nudges you with a genuine smile, and you’re fighting your own grin as you shake your head.

“whatever.”

the rest of the game is swift. your goalie makes a couple great saves, and a guy named dylan, who you’ve met before at parties, scores the final point of the night.

it just twists the knife further, because it’s a total shutout. the fans go wild as the final buzzer sounds, and you’re right there with them. you relish in the lights, the feeling.

you really did miss watching hockey in person. and you can’t even say you necessarily hate watching chris anymore. there’s just something about the way he skates, so locked in on the game.

he’s a threat, to be completely honest, and you kind of love it.

“that was fucking crazy.” cassidy is beaming happily as you guys gather your things ten minutes post-game, and ramona nods along.

“we’re gonna have to do this more often.” she glances at you with hope.

“hey, don’t look at me. i’m in it for the free tickets, and i’m not sure how long that’ll last.” you’re lying through your teeth, because you enjoyed it just as much.

but again. who knows what he’s really trying to do here.

“you could give him the benefit of the doubt.” mona suggests dryly.

“does he really deserve it? he’s going to think he’s the shit either way.” you point out, and she goes quiet.

“maybe that’s true, but i’ve never heard of him doing whatever that celebration was with other girls.” cassidy takes over, and she’s honestly check-mated you.

it is strange, because when you watched games last season, before you had chris as your neighbor, before you even really knew of him, you hadn’t ever seen that. and from current knowledge, you’re pretty sure he had a short term girlfriend during one of those months.

“touché, i guess.” you grumble, and as if right on que your phone vibrates in your pocket.

chris

wait for me, 15 mins max

ramona and cassidy take the bus home, leaving you on your lonesome as the crowd clears out slowly but surely.

you can hear girls whispering about you as they walk by, but it’s not even worth it. you’re not scared of what they have to say. maybe when you were younger, you would have reacted, but it’s just displaced jealousy anyways.

they don’t even know the truth.

finally, after what feels like a painful amount of time, you get a text from chris with directions toward the locker rooms.

it’s far more quiet now as you make your way to the ground level of the arena, headed to the section of the rink you know is closed off to pretty much everyone else. there’s a guy standing there, dressed in his black shirt with the facility logo on it.

he goes to stop you, but chris comes strutting through the hall, out of uniform now. his brown hair is all messy, and he’s dressed down in a matching black sweat set.

“she’s cool, i have a pass for her.”

he walks right up to you, looping a red lanyard over your head. his fingertips brush the skin of your neck as he collects your hair with his hands, flipping it out from underneath the string for you.

it’s a small thing. his touch is barely there, and yet it still burns.

the security guy smiles at you as you follow chris down the hall. you’ve never been back here before, and you have to admit it’s kind of cool.

you can see where the arena workers go on and off the ice, and the large garage type doors that let the zambonis in and out.

“so.” he breaks the silence, and you almost jump at the sound of his voice.

you were in your own world, and you kind of forgot what was actually going on here.

“so.” you parrot, waiting for him to continue as he leads you around a corner.

“looked like you actually had fun for once.” chris jokes, and you shove his shoulder half-heartedly.

“shut up, i’ve always liked hockey. you though? i’m not so sure.” you give him a look and he opens his mouth like he’s shocked.

“come on, i pointed you out after my goal and everything. you’re telling me you didn’t like it even a little?”

you liked it more than you care to admit, so you don’t. “it’s gonna take more than that to impress me, christopher, but i will say it was a good game.”

“you might just be our lucky charm.” chris glances at you out of the corner of the corner of his eye as he slows to a stop in front of the locker room.

you cross your arms over your chest. “now you're just patronizing me.”

“always assuming the worst.”

“well, you make it easy.” you tease.

he pauses to look down at your defensive stance, at his jersey all scrunched up around your body, and you can tell by his smirk that he’s loving it a little too much.

you clear your throat to try and alleviate some of the tension and chris snaps out of it, turning to head through the little entryway.

“i’m gonna grab my bag, don’t go anywhere.”

“you’re my ride, dumbass.” you remind him, and you hear his chuckle reverberate against the walls as he disappears.

a few players head out as you wait, ones you don’t recognize, and they nod at you politely as they chat amongst themselves. it actually takes you by surprise, but you try not to show it.

chris comes back into the hall a minute later, bag slung around his shoulder. he’s got a black bruins beanie on now, and you raise an eyebrow instinctively.

“why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, waving his hand so you follow him further down the wide corridor.

“your hat.” you point, and he looks offended.

“what’s your problem with it?”

“not everyone who goes to school here is actually from boston, genius. i’m a flyers fan.” you smile at him sweetly, and he literally groans.

“how did i not know this?” he asks as you guys reach the door that leads to the team parking lot.

“because you don’t know me.” you reply swiftly.

chris pushes the door open and holds it for you, another move you don’t expect. “i know more than you think.”

you shiver slightly as you step past him into the cold, wrapping your coat around yourself a bit tighter.

“if it helps you sleep at night.” you chirp over your shoulder.

you know his car, a black jeep grand cherokee that you’ve always been a little jealous of, and it’s sitting in the middle of the lot. not many others are still here, and you can hear both of your feet kicking up gravel as you walk.

chris picks up his pace so he can beat you there, swinging the passenger door open before you can do it yourself.

“wow, chivalry’s not dead.” you say blankly, sliding into the seat so he can close you in.

“what can i say, i’m a real gentleman.”

the interior smells like a pine air freshener, which actually isn’t a bad touch. chris walks around so he can toss his bag in the back and get behind the wheel, starting the engine and peeling out of the spot.

it’s quiet for a moment, aside from the music, and you can’t help but peek over at him sitting across from you. the shadows accentuate his striking features as he mumbles lyrics under his breath, nodding his head along ever so slightly.

he looks pretty, and you don’t like it one bit.

“i can feel you staring at me, you know.” chris turns to glance at you for a brief moment before he puts his eyes back on the road.

it makes your palms sweat, because he caught you in the act and now there’s no shying away.

deny, deny, deny.

“just wondering why your face looks like that.”

“what, devilishly handsome?” he smirks.

“i was thinking gremlin-esque, but sure.” you deadpan, and he just shakes his head and laughs lowly.

“so scared of your own feelings. it’s cute.”

it’s a major call-out, and it normally doesn’t phase you. but tonight it’s different. he’s being so fucking strange, and it’s clearly been messing with your head.

“i’m not scared of shit, because the only thing i feel is sorry for all the girls who have actually fallen for this.” you retort, and the frustration is clear in your voice.

“other girls don’t get the princess treatment like you do.” his self-satisfied demeanor doesn’t falter for a second, even despite your low blow.

“yeah, right. i’m sure i’m really special.”

chris grips the wheel tighter as he turns onto your street, and you have to rip your eyes away from his long fingers.

“well you’re the only one who’s ever worn my jersey, so that’s something.” he admits, scratching his neck absentmindedly.

you’re not sure whether you believe it, but this time he actually does sound genuinely nervous. well, nervous for chris.

“and i wear it best too.” you brush some imaginary dust off of your shoulder as he pulls up into his driveway and puts the car in park.

“won’t argue on that one.” he shrugs, shooting you an easy grin.

“that’s surprising.”

you step back out into the crisp night air, slamming the door shut behind you. you meet chris at the front of the car and try to move around him, headed for your own place.

he takes a step to block you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “where are you going?”

you put some distance between your bodies, because he’s once again too close for comfort, and it’s hard to focus on your words when he’s inches from your face.

“home, obviously.”

“why? i thought we were going to hang out.” he frowns.

“nothing good ever happens in your house past nine p.m.”

this makes him smirk. “very good things happen in that house past nine p.m.”

“your charm is irresistible, truly.” you bite back sarcastically, maneuvering around him as you try to ignore the fire burning in your stomach.

you’ve only taken two steps before chris grabs your arm, pulling you back into his chest quickly. his other hand goes to hold the side of your face, tangling in your hair as he leans in close.

his lips ghost over yours, just barely. you can smell the cologne he must have put on after the game, can feel his slight stubble scratching your face, and it’s all too much.

you haven’t been kissed in so long, and right now it doesn’t matter that it’s chris, and that it goes against everything you stand for. your eyes flutter closed and you fill the gap, pressing your mouth against his hard.

it shocks him, so much so that he almost forgets how to do this properly. chris can taste your berry chapstick, and your lips are so much fucking softer than he even imagined.

his tongue slides against yours skillfully, deepening the kiss as he presses his body flush against yours. you can feel his thumb brushing your cheek as your mouths clash together continuously. its passionate and angry and intense, and you can’t believe it’s happening.

why is this happening?

the thought snaps you out of it, and you put your hand on his chest to force him away roughly. chris is surprised, and you’re both slack-jawed and breathing heavily as your body tries to catch up with your brain.

“i…i’m gonna go.” you mumble quietly, because you have no idea what else to say.

“or you could stay.”

“i don’t want to.”

“you’re a terrible liar.” he counters, and you can see how raw and red his lips are even in the moonlight.

you shake your head and turn toward your own front porch. it’s too hard to continue meeting his fiery gaze, because he’s looking at you like he actually needs you.

“goodnight, chris.”

“this isn’t over, you know. one day you’ll finally admit it.” he calls after you, and you don’t gratify him with a response.

there’s nothing that’ll change his mind, especially after you had actually caved in during that moment of weakness. it was so unwarranted, and you’re angry that kissing him didn’t feel as wrong as it should have.

you take the steps two at a time and hurry through the door, closing it behind you and pressing your back to the wood.

your fingers dance across your lips, and you swear you can still feel his mouth on yours.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #hockey au #neighbor au #chris sturniolo smut #fanfic #new series #enemies to lovers

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papercorgiworld · 23 days

Text

Lily’s potion

A Regulus Black imagine

When you're stressed at a party Lily gives you a potion to make you relax. However, the potion has the bizarre side effect of making you a little unhinged for one specific Slytherin.

Warning: suggestive

This is the Regulus version of Pansy’s Potion and this is brought to you thanks to this anon asking for more Regulus. Happy readings and have a lovely day!

Lily stared at you as you anxiously scanned the room. “Can you relax for once?” She quips, raising her eyebrows and you smile, but shake your head. No, you could not relax. There was always something to stress about. “I brew something that might help.” You take the small glass Lily offers you and study it for a moment. “What is it?” Lily smirks. “Something to take the edge off.”

It did a little more than that.

You bite your lip as you feel your whole body heat up. You were in need of someone to hold you. You had been single for too long and it all came rushing to you as soon as you drank Lily’s potion. Your eyes scan the room as you look for something delicious, something to sink your teeth into or better someone that would sink into your pussy. Your mind was running wild with things you would do once you’d found your prey.

It’s then that an annoyed Regulus comes into view. He raises his eyebrows at something a girl says and then turns away from her, leaving her a little embarrassed. A smirk tugs on your lips as you walk over to Regulus, who’s surprised when you’re suddenly standing in front of him with shiny eyes. Your arm snakes around his neck and you bite your lip. “Regulus at a party. Quelle surprise?” You tease and Regulus frowns at your playful voice and your arm around him, though the French does get to him. The two of you rarely talk and if you did there usually was an insult involved. Your hand traces along the buttons of his shirt and he can feel himself heat up under your touch. “How about we go dance?” You whisper and he raises his eyebrows. “How drunk are you?” He says and you roll your eyes at his lame response to your question. “I’m not drunk and if you don’t want to dance then I’ll find someone else.” You say and tilt your head, waiting for a response, eyes drowning deep in his. He stares at you, mind going blank and as much as you wanted him above everyone else you were not waiting for him. “Your loss, I had things in mind.” Your seductive voice has Regulus gulp. He doesn’t say anything and your hand moves away from his neck but not without slowly moving down over his chest to almost touch his belt.

Confused, his gaze follows you as you again scan the crowd, walking confidently while teasing eyes search for a new man. You find your new victim in Sirius and you went to sit down next to him. Contrary to his brother, Sirius is more than welcoming, slinging his arm around your shoulder as he casually continues his conversation. You move a little closer and your hand moves over Sirius’ leg and Regulus panics at the sight. He immediately walks over to you, but your desperation for attention has you sling a leg over Sirius before Regulus gets to you. While initially he was worried about you, now he could feel jealousy at the sight of you practically on top of his brother. Regulus grabs your wrist and pulls you off of Sirius, who was utterly confused by your actions. “Don’t look so stupid, Sirius. She’s had one too many. I’m taking her to her common room.” Sirius watches as Regulus drags you away and you immediately focus your attention back on the younger Black.

“I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me.” You play and Regulus swallows at your sweet voice and lips near his ear. “This is definitely more than just alcohol.” He mutters and raises his eyebrows as your eyes move to his lips. “Not happening like this.” He says before quickly turning you around, face away from him, and guides you to the exit.

***

Since there were too many people gathered at your common room Regulus was forced to take you up on your offer and move to your room. Once there Regulus can no longer deny how attracted he is to you, despite never really getting along with you. Your hand snakes to the back of his neck, while you elegantly press your perfect body against him. Regulus shoots his eyes to the ceiling, almost praying for mercy. Your lips search for him and he knows it, he tries to resist but he’s not quick enough. Your soft lips tenderly move over his and it takes every bit of self control to push you back. “You’re not yourself. Go sit down.” He breathes, relieved that there’s some distance between you two.

You pout and sit down on your bed, looking up at him through your lashes. “Stay there.” The slytherin commands, before quickly moving to your desk. His eyes scan the books on your desk and the nearby shelves in search of something that could help him find an antidote for whatever was messing with your mind. However, you never listened to Regulus and today was not the day you were going to start listening. As soon as you notice him deeply engaged with the pages of one of your books you get up and quietly move to stand behind him. Regulus feels your hand gently move over his chest as you rest your head on his back. “Don’t you want to snuggle with me?” You sound so sweet to him and his eyes roll to the back of his head as your hand lowers. Regulus’ jaw clenches when his mind starts to wonder about far less innocent things than snuggling.

A heavy breath leaves his chest and he tries to ignore you, focussing on the page in front of him, but you won’t give up easily. Your mind is running wild for this man and thanks to Lily’s potion nothing is holding you back. With one hand roaming his chest and playing with the buttons of his shirt, your other hand is free to slip to his thigh. Regulus gulps at your touch. This scenario came straight out of his fantasy, having your arms wrapped around him, your hands all over him. “What do you think you’re doing?” Regulus tries to sound stern, but there’s an obvious crack of nervousness in his voice. You bite your lip, pleased to hear him crumble, feeding your desire for him. “I want to play with you.” Now you own his mind and heart. In a second he turns around, his eyes piercing yours as the room fills with sexual tension. You cup his cheek. “Please master Regulus.” You urge, your voice taunting and seductive. You push yourself up to meet his lips and his hand moves to the back of your head.

“I want this, I’ve wanted this for a while, but… not like this.” His lips brush over yours and you can almost taste him, but as he moves away you feel yourself get wobbly and slip into a sudden slumber. He catches your enchanting figure and lays you to rest on your bed. “Sorry about that love, but I can’t- I need you to be in your right mind.” He immediately turns back to study your books in search of a quick cure, before the enchantment he placed on you ebbs away.

***

Your eyes flutter open and you’re met with Regulus’ soft eyes watching you as he sat next to on the bed.. “Drink this.” Your eyes turn seductive and devilish, making Regulus sigh. “Please, drink this.” He urges and you take the drink, doing whatever the pretty boy wanted hoping that you would get your way with him after.

The cure Regulus had brewed has an immediate effect, making you sober up. You look around and put some space between you and Regulus. Your cheeks heat up and your heart starts pounding as you realise how unhinged you had been around Regulus, the guy you could barely stand, but apparently were also very attracted to. This is an absolute nightmare. Regulus is quick to notice the panic in your eyes and a smirk forms on his lips. Now that you’re back to being innocent he can go back to being a smug ass. Exactly how he liked it, he was in control again. He opened his month to no doubt say something witty, but just then Lily, Marlene, Sirius, Remus, Peter and James barge in.

“(y/n), you alright?” James yells with a voice filled with panic. “What are you doing here?” Sirius demands as his suspicious eyes land on his brother, who is quick to stand up and puff his chest. “I have been working on a cure for whatever you morons gave her. If it wasn’t for me…” He trails off as he feels himself blush at the idea of what could have happened. The slytherin coughs as he notices all eyes are on him. “Well, she is fine now.” He quickly says and moves past his brother and Remus to get to the door, before turning around once more. His eyes land on your sheepish figure and he feels his heart melt. He so badly wanted a little bit more time with just you alone to see if any of the suggestions you had made had any feelings to it, but he’s quick to regain his composure. His judgy eyes scan the room. “And whoever gave her something should refrain from potion making.. or maybe witchcraft in general.” Lily’s guilty expression makes Regulus focus on her, shaking his head in annoyance with her before stealing one last glance from you and shutting the door behind him.

“What happened?” Remus asks as he sits down on the bed. Your worried eyes move to Marlene and Lily. Your silence has James smile to himself, before coming to your rescue. “Lilss, damnit, what kind of potion did you give her, she doesn’t even remember what happened!” Your eyes quickly move to James. Leave it the mastermind of mischief to get you out of trouble with a little lie. You immediately rub your head as if you’re trying your best to remember anything, but fail to do so. You were happy that your friends were not asking questions, but your mind was still going crazy about what you were pretending not to remember, but remember very clearly.

Why did I go after Regulus?

Do I have a thing for Regulus?

Can’t be? Right? …

Oh Godric, I have a thing for Sirius’ brother!!!!

AAAAAAAAH!!

#regulus black x reader #regulus black #regulus black imagine #Slytherin #marauders era #the marauders era #papercorgiworldwritings

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hana-no-seiiki · 22 days

Note

Ohh I got soooo many ideas, like CV reader got kidnapped by black mask (I think it's red hood nemesis, am not that deep in DC comics but I know the basics) so he could have a deal or take information out of red hood using CV reader. And when Jason found out about it he was pissed but when he got there the bad guys already down because CV reader took them down.

P.s I don't mind if you use this as a reference to make a headcanon or story on contrary i would love to read it, but it's up to you!!

🎧ྀི » [ what a catastrophy ! ] «

0:00 ─〇───── 0:00

⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻

tw/cw: yandere, jason being horny/implied noncon, cat villain! reader being an absolute menace and a whore as always.

pairings: yan! batfam x cat villain/vigilante! reader

note: this happens after conflict between jason and other members of batfam are resolved and at that point cat villain! is more solidly on the cat vigilante! side

“How long is this going to take exactly? I’m about to take an involuntary cat nap with how utterly slow you all are being.”

The Court of Owls were a group of people you’ve absolutely despised on every era you’ve had under your cat mask. Whether it was your wild years as Cat Woman’s protégé or when you were basically assimilated as the Batfam’s shared s/o. You could never bring yourself to like absurdly rich people that well. Much less rich people who do bad things.

For legal and safety reasons, you have to say that the Batfamily are an exception.

You don’t know how on Earth they managed to get their hands on equipment that prevented your powers from working, but it was proving to be quite the annoying conundrum.

“I’m sorry but I’m feline a little too underwhelmed by this whole kidnapping thing. Why don’t we hurry things up a little?”

MEANWHILE . . .

“Where the hell did you take them?!”

Jason slammed Black Mask unto the wall, using the backside of his arm and pressing it against the man’s chest.

The latter’s men took a defensive, alert stance. Ready to pounce on command.

But Black Mask only gestured them to stand down.

“You have to understand, the fact that I even thought of informing you of my deal is a huge risk. I could lose my biggest benefactors.” He replied, calm and polite. In contrast to the harsh kick he deals to his assailant, making Jason back off. “I’m doing you all a favor. I’m doing [Cat Villain Name] a favor.”

“They’re currently on a private island to the south. I can’t give you the exact coordinates but here’s the general location.” He tossed a flashdrive, one swiftly caught and skimmed through by Tim.

“Why are you helping us?” Damian’s mind was already calculating the best way to get rid of everyone in this room. The grip on his katana tightening by the second. He had full faith that you were capable of taking care of yourself, but it did not help with the fear of disappearance whatsoever.

He was sure that the sight of you getting hurt would lead to him going on a rampage.

“Maybe the fact that even with my help, you kids being too late would open their mind and make them come back to our side. They’d finally learn that you’re only as good for them as Batman was to —“ Damian couldn’t stop himself anymore, knocking the man unconscious as the rest of the crew took down his goons with ease. Their worry over your current condition giving them a surprising amount of efficiency as a team.

“It’ll take several hours to even get to those islands much less even find which one . . .” Tim bit his lip. He wasn’t concerned at all. He knows you inside and out. In fact, he already knew where you were exactly. All of this info gathering was just his plan to delay things so that your patience would run out and he’d get front row seats to the carnage you’d inevitably cause. After all, there was something he can always predict when it came to you.

Your unending thirst for fun and chaos.

It took about a week for them to find you. Just about enough time for you to get antsy about not seeing your beloved pets and home.

And plenty of time for you to have your fun, pretending to be hurt, crying out in feigned agony, before you finally took down your prey.

“Red Hood! Come back! We can’t just barge in—“ Dick called out to Jason.

But all Jason could think of was the way you screamed in terror. The footage of your ‘torture’ was something he had nightmares about.

“Kitty! Are you—“ He kicked the door off its hinges, guns ready to fire.

But his sights only landed on a singular breathing being in the middle of a room. Covered in the blood of your victims. Grooming yourself clean.

Each lick sending shivers down his spine.

He sighed in relief. “You really have to stop playing with your food, Kitty.”

His lips envelopes yours as the world disappears from your vision.

୨ ©️ ୧⸝⸝﹕hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2024﹐⊂☁️⊃ ‹𝟹

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lovelaetter · 25 days

Note

thoughts on fucking stepsis!winter in front of stepmom!taeyeon 🤭

CW: DUBCON, MANIPULATION, STEPCEST, no actual incest but if we consider that taeyeon watches her daughter getting fucked… i don’t know what to tell you.

wait you got my attention there, fucking mom and daughter??! both of them being your little secrets?? that’s a yes for me. and it’s also so fucked.

you obviously fuck them for different reasons: taeyeon because she’s just too hot for you to handle and you can’t understand how your dad got her but you know he’s not treating her the way she deserves so you use the excuse that you’re helping her with her frustrations. she’s a lot harder to convince than minjeong, though, you had to go little by little but you do get her on your bed. minjeong on other hand is so sweet and baby and the act she puts up in front of people pretending to hate you… you couldn’t resist her! a girl’s night is all it takes, she drops the act, it was her way to deal with her attraction for you.

i keep thinking about planning a way to make taeyeon see you and minjeong together? knowing damn well how desperate the younger is to touch you whenever she founds you two alone so one day that your father isn’t at home and taeyeon leaves too you’re quick to take minjeong in your arms, pretty girl a little hesitant fearing her mom could return but you swear she won’t, she told you she was going to visit a friend and minjeong instantly lights up, not knowing you’re lying, that her mom said quite the contrary, that she would just pick a few things she forgot for dinner in a grocery store near and come back soon.

sweet minjeong straddling your lap, holding her dress up to get it out of the way, underwear simply pushed to side and hips back and forth making a mess on your clothed thigh, all while you suck one of her tits. she would be so lost in pleasure, tossing her head back and calling your name between gasps, unaware of the fact you left the bedroom door slightly open and that you’re staring at her mom who stands outside at the corridor, in shock :( smirking at taeyeon when you realize she doesn’t walk away, a hand coming between minjeong legs and two fingers sliding easily into her, encouraging her to cum for you. all the lazy kisses and whining as she comes down from her orgasm, not knowing you made her put on a show for a third person that definitely shouldn’t see you two…

taeyeon probably doesn’t have the guts to confront you and tries her best to act normal but avoids you, except you find a way with her after a few days one late night and she doesn’t know if she cries or if she screams at you when your hands grab her waist and begins kissing her neck. tries to push you away but it’s so weak because she doesn’t really want to, she missed your touch, but her mind is a fucking mess, the things she saw, where your hands have been… :( calls you sick, disgusting, but then you’re saying that you “can’t have what i really want all the time, i had to look for something else” and she folds because that means you want her but it’s also awful as you’re basically admitting to using your stepsister, her daughter, like she’s a thing of some sort to play with when you have nothing better to do. comes in your mouth, biting the back of her hand to muffle her sounds and cries as you remind her she doesn’t have to cry, there’s no competition, you like her better.

don’t fuck your stepmothers… or stepsisters.

#asks #aespa smut #winter smut #taeyeon smut #cw: stepcest #cw: dubcon

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robin374 · 9 months

Note

I saw that your requests were open and I jumped into action lol

Any ideas for the Mercs and reader with an “only one bed” trope? (Love the stuff youve written btw <3)

One Bed Trope with the mercs (part 1)

I'm gonna start with Demoman because he is my husband and gets the privilege of being the first.

Demoman ❤️

He just wanted to sleep man 😭

When you two finished the assigned mission that Miss Pauling gave you two, you went to the hotel/motel (how do you call it in English?). When you entered the room the first thing you two saw was a single big bed, for two people.

You looked at Demo and he was awkwardly standing there. He couldn't believe his eye

👁️👄

"I'll sleep on the floor, don't worry Demo." "No, Y/N. I've slept in all kinds of places, I think I can handle sleeping on the floor" "And that's exactly why you are sleeping in the bed"

At the end, you two decide to sleep in the same bed. He couldn't help but feel nervous, like yeah, he has slept at the top of Edinburgh's castle. Or with some random seals at a random beach. But he's never slept with the person he's in love with.

With that said, he remembers those words his Mom told him once.

"You better get a job, Tavish!"

I could give him a good job-

I don't know why he remembered that, don't ask me.

HE'S SO WARM KSDKAODJAKL I feel like his body would be so warm, because of the amount of alcohol he consumes.

He snores a little bit. Just tiny tiny tiny tiny little bit. 🤏

Not as much as Heavy at least.

He's a heavy sleeper so good luck trying to wake him up

I feel like he would see it as an opportunity to confess his feelings. Like you two are talking while laying down in bed, and casually spits it out. By the time you realize what he said, he is already sound asleep, his back facing you.

"I'm in love with you, Y/N" "Hmm? What did you say? I didn't hear you *Scottish snoring*

Scout 🤡

HE DOES NOT HESITATE 🗣️🗣️

He knows what these situations are about and he will not let it slide so easily.

He doesn't even ask you if you are okay with sleeping with him, he just says "I'm so tired, let's sleep!" And he launches himself towards the bed.

He will pat the space next to him silently telling you to sleep too.

But then reality hits him like a rock, he is sleeping with you. He is really happy, any girl would've slapped him at tha exact moment, but you just accepted your fate.

He doesn't snore, but he does this thing that dogs do that is moving his legs as if he was running.

You better be a heavy sleeper because he talks while sleeping.

"Spy stole my chicken and now I can't eat my bullets. " "Scout are you awake?" "Fuck you Spy, I miss my chicken :("

He got so red when he woke up in the morning. You were still asleep, that's the first thing he saw after opening his eyes. He wanted to kiss you so bad.

"Good morning, toots. You've slept well?"

He's so in love with istg.

But he won't confess, he wants to keep this as a (really) good memory and confess after he's sure that you feel the same.

Scared of rejection I guess.

Engie 🤠

He's so casual about it.

He has to sleep in the same bed as his crush? Well, darn.

"It is what it is" energy.

You don't want him to sleep on the floor and he doesn't want you to sleep on the floor. Oh no, sadly we will have to sleep in the same bed :( (that's sarcasm for those confused)

"Come here, sugar, I don't bite." Unless you want me to.

He snores more than Demo sorry, it's bearable though. It's like having a horse next to you huffing and puffiing. A horse you don't mind to ride (ok I'll stop now sorry lmao)

He's like a teddy bear, he doesn't mind if you hug him. On the contrary, he will "unintentionally" pull you closer.

He would wake up in the middle of the night, because he's not used to sleeping like a normal person would do. So he will take advantage of it and admire your beautiful face. How the moonlight delicatedly lights your face, your closed eyes giving that feel of calmness... He will eventually kiss your forehead and go back to sleep.

He won't say a word about it in the morning. He will just greet you like always do in the base and get back to work.

In the inside he's screaming, dancing, running, whooping of joy. For him, it's one little step more to you being his pardner.

#tf2 x reader #tf2 #team fortress two #tf2 headcanons #tf2 engie x reader #tf2 demoman #tf2 scout #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 demoman x reader

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calmcoldevening · 3 months

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may i request a fic or headcanons (whatever youre up for!) where sometimes jason will take the opportunity to show off his strength to his s/o? like maybe he lifts really heavy things or when he's chopping firewood he'll rip a log in half with his bare hands 😍

Jason Voorhees x reader, his strength headcanons

Tw: soft, comfort, little mention of murder and blood

• All in all, Jason was a big, really big man and no less a big force. But he didn't want him to show it to you, on the contrary, he was always affectionate and gentle, trying to touch you as carefully as possible. He was a caring, kind partner, your personal teddy bear.

• And yet, sometimes he really wanted to show you how strong he is once again. Look, he's so big and strong, you're so small compared to him. You're not going to leave him, are you? He's so strong, he'll protect you!

• Rather, the desire to show your strength is caused by his lack of self-confidence, sometimes you have to prove to him that you really love him. In his life, Jason has only felt love from his mom, so now he clings to your love in every possible way like a touch-starved person. It's sweet, but sad at the same time. That's why he wants you to see him as a support and support.

• Jason loves carrying you in his arms, because this is not only a way to show how much he loves you, but also an opportunity to show all his strength again. Regardless of your weight or shape, it will lift you up like a real feather. You are so light and sweet in his arms, Jason is ready to pick you up in his arms in a wedding style at any opportunity.

• Yes, you often see him chopping wood. You go outside, into the clearing near your cabin, and you notice Jason. He's still wearing his mask, but he's completely naked from the waist up. His trousers hug his strong thighs, and his shirt hangs neatly on a tree branch. The man has an axe in his hands, and you see how your boyfriend's muscles contract and pulsate under his thin skin with each blow. Those big muscles, sexy bulging veins and sweat running down his sculpted body. You're literally salivating at the sight of your handsome man.

• As soon as Jason notices you, he grins slightly under the mask, blushing a little. Putting the axe down on the grass, the man takes hold of both parts of the log with his hands and with one sharp jerk tears it in half. He likes to impress you.

• You've often seen Jason carrying his victims, both living and dead, on his shoulder. And although they were mostly teenagers and young people, their sizes were sometimes quite large. Still, Jason had no trouble carrying them around like some kind of potato sacks.

• He can kill a man even with his bare hands, crushing the victim's skull, but that's not what Jason would want you to see.

• A couple of times you saw how, at the time of the chase, Jason knocked out the doors of other cabins in the forest just with his body.

• Due to the fact that Jason is not very confident in himself, he can be quite jealous. How annoying it is for him when one of his victims tries to steal you or flirts with you. He doesn't stand on ceremony with such victims. He would grab them and squeeze their flesh tightly, breaking their ribs and making them scream in agony. When the victim bleeds out, he will throw the body on the ground and come up to you, hugging you tightly.

• Often he does not notice how he shows his strength. Sometimes Jason doesn't really calculate his strength and squeezes you too tightly in his arms. That's why there are a lot of marks from his hands on your body, and these reddish marks look a little embarrassing.

#slashers x reader #slashers x you #slasher x reader #slashers #slashers fandom #jason voorhees #jason voorhees x you #jason voorhees x reader

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tendergraphite · 8 months

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Camilla & Henry: A Relationship Analysis

I've witnessed many TSH posts about the characters that aren't based on their actions at all, but their perceived beauty.

Take Camilla, instead of being seen as boyish/gender ambiguous (To the extent Richard used her as Charles stand in) And as cold-hearted enough to match Henry's bitterness—She is viewed as a darling graceful soul; A damsel in distress even.

We hardly understand Camilla because Richard didn't—We know so little, that there's much room for imagination. All the characters worp her identity, their notions about girls being innocent (Translated Meaning: incompetent) A mask for the sour milk on her breath.

However bits of the truth have always sneaked by—Peace's Richard didn't see as damning written in without him realizing the meaning behind the actions. That's why I've always been of the belief the characters true intents can be understood, even if that's not the point of the story.

Title: Satan Meets An Angels Corpse

Richard assumed it was difficult for Camilla to be the only female scholar in a group of men: But it was quite the contrary.

Camilla held similar beliefs as the Greeks, having a superiority complex I'd argue was the reason for her disliking of women—She's actively pointed out as having brawled with the only other two women in the book: If many of us really met Camilla, she'd harner an instant disdain for us—You'd have better luck getting Bunny to genuinely like you.

I believe she's been used as a self insert by the fandom—which is why she in particular is so wrongly understood—And why many are so eager for her romantic relationship with Henry to be canon. I've always hated that, as I believe that's really what's been stopping many from seeing what was really going on with Henry.

Oh yes, Henry Winter, whose largely over glorified for the surface level psychopathy and bone chilling murdering of his best friend. What I like to call one of the ''True'' plotlines in The Secret History is Henry's mental decline. Now, I've been building up this theory for awhile. so to fully understand you'll need to read the following posts about Henry 1) Not being in a car accident, and is in fact a victim of abuse 2) Why he chose to kill himself, and why the decision had been inevitable.

If you don't read the above, do not come into my comment section asking for explanations.

With the context set, what was their relationship?

Firstly, the two are a similar flavor of chaotic—The two saw Bunny's shenanigans and both went ''I mean, why don't we just kill him then?'' They are the equivalent of two high school girls besties, who have a secret ring code just so they can gossip about the latest sauce.

The two are very vulnerable people: Henry, who for the first time in his life was away from his abusive home—With no real social skills or awareness for the new world—Who probably only had his Mother prior; And Camilla who lost both her parents, and whose only real reliable company was her brother: They needed someone outside of their immediate circle, so become dependant on one another.

I feel the fandom forgets this, but Camilla held the exact same spiritual beliefs as Henry. Both of them navigated the world differently because of these beliefs, and would've bonded over their mutual understanding. So, do I think the two slept with one another? During the attempted/actual bacchanal sure, but past that? No, as that's not what their relationship was based upon.

Now the elephant in the room room. What was happening with the erm, love triangle? There wasn't one. Camilla distanced herself because Charles was changing in ways she couldn't support and was hurting her. She couldn't help him so helped herself as she should've, and ended up trusting who she saw to be her only good friend.

Henry's reaction to "Isn't that what you do to my sister every night?" Was largely caused by him actively self-sabotaging and not caring at that point. He knew Charles wanted a reaction, so didn't give it to him; He was playing a game he knew would end with him losing and did not care.

Along with the fact Henry was entirely under the impression Camilla was being physically abused. As someone who had been abused himself, of course he stepped in and whisked Camilla of to a hotel where he felt confident no one could simply trespass and attack her. This wasn't some possessive romantic get-away, he was worried.

As for why the two are so comfortable within their interactions with one another: Physical affection is comforting, it isn't just about romance for a lot of people it's about feeling safe. Why wouldn't they do these small gestures? They were comfortable with each other because they were friends.

Henry's support network had consisted of 1) Bunny, who was his best-friend and I'd argue to be brother figure; him being the only one to be able to get him to laugh, and come out of his shell. 2) Julian, who acted as a role model and parental support; he was the one to bring purpose to Henry's life and needed validation for his deep seeded insecurities—And Henry's last line of defence, 3) Camilla.

Henry lasted so long because of her nearing the end, but the flaw in their friendship was that Camilla couldn't empathise with him. She cares about those around her, really she does, but those people are a limited number and like Henry she is capable of feeling no remorse for manipulating the people she cares about.

She found Henry's display of misery embarrassing. Where Julian would have comforted him (In his own fucked-up egocentric way) And resolved Henry's feelings of worthlessness—Camilla couldn't. Even Bunny would've shown some form of affection—But Camilla's and Henry's relationship wasn't built on that, that's not why the two were friends.

A special thanks to bandaiddd for the following question: ''1) the relationship is shown through Richard’s eyes, do you believe/how do you think Henry manipulated his vision of their relationship within Richard’s narrative? 2) what do you think he whispered to her?''

To begin, he would've shaped the narrative to fit Camilla and Henry being romantically involved for a couple of reasons. The book is written after his last interaction with Camilla and her rejection, so it better suits him to believe Henry was the reason to her not accepting his marriage proposal (She just wasn't interested, and felt incredibly awkward.) Another way he shifted the narrative was just the fact Richard loves intrigue. Henry being a jealous lover and not a worried friend was simply more interesting—Along with making more sense to him.

With the second question... You just had to break my heart and make me genuinely answer this.

A tender kiss is often a mournful goodbye in tales—But a forehead kiss specifically represents friendship... And an apology. It's a much more respectful way to show adoration, more supple than a kiss on the lips. Before Henry kissed Camilla, he had already made up his mind—It's why what he had whispered was ''I love you.'' Prior to another kiss, and another ''I love you.'' Before he pulled back.

#the secret history #henry winter #charles macaulay #camilla macaulay #dark academia

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sensitiveheartless · 20 days

Note

...Somethin' please!

Hiya, thanks for the ask! :D This is the fic which I started writing a while back and then completely forgot about (the non-descriptive title I gave it did not help lol) — but basically it's a very silly college AU where Albatross comes up with a very stupid plan for Chuuya to get kissed for the first time at a dorm party. (Dazai has known Chuuya since they were both fifteen and is internally Seething over the entire situation)

Here's a rather long snippet to give the proper vibe:

---

Chuuya sighed, and thumped his head back against the wall of the closet.

Worse than the indignity of it all was how boring it was. Time felt like it crawled by even slower when he couldn’t even check the time on his phone.

Like anyone was going to come in, anyway. What kind of weirdo would be desperate enough to kiss someone who was blindfolded? And to kiss Chuuya, no less. He wasn’t exactly known for his sunny disposition. They’d probably be too afraid of him kicking them.

Chuuya shifted restlessly. He could just leave, he knew. Ditch the entire party. It seemed pretty lame so far, and it wasn’t like Chuuya wanted to be kissed…

Much.

…Alright, maybe he was a little curious, just to see what all the fuss was about.

But only a little. It was just that he hadn't ever gotten a chance to fool around during his high school years, not with how quickly everything went to shit—and even after Adam found him and things began to look up, Chuuya had been far too busy trying to put his life back together to bother with dating.

Still, this seemed like a pretty stupid way to lose his first kiss. Why the hell had Albatross thought this was a good idea?

Ugh. Whatever. He would give it another couple of minutes, and then he’d leave. Yeah. No one was gonna come in, anyway.

Of course, at that exact moment, the closet door creaked open.

Chuuya stiffened, glowering even though the other person wouldn't be able to see it. Raucous sounds from the party outside filtered in with the mystery person, at least until the closet door latched shut once again with a gentle click.

…So there were people desperate and weird enough to do this?!

“Hey,” Chuuya said, just to break the silence. He could hear the other person breathing, hushed and a little fast. Were they nervous? “Come to take a shot at it? Honestly, I think this whole thing is stupid as hell, but I’m not gonna stop ya.”

The other person’s breathing did something funny, but they didn’t move. They had to be standing quite close to Chuuya, considering how small the closet was, but the two of them weren’t touching at all.

After a moment of expectant silence, Chuuya frowned. “Oi, are you really just gonna stand there?” he asked, blindly reaching forward. “Who are you, anyw—?”

Before he could get out the last word, Chuuya found himself pulled abruptly into the person’s arms. Contrary to his expectations, however, he was not kissed—instead, he was crushed against the other’s chest, his cheek squished against what he guessed to be their collar bone.

Chuuya blinked behind the darkness of his blindfold.

This person had snuck in here, just to…hug him?

If it could even be called a hug, because it certainly wasn’t like any embrace Chuuya had received before. Nothing like the brisk but warm hugs he got from Adam, or the awkward one-armed hugs from Shirase, or the enthusiastic bone-crushing squeezes from Albatross whenever his friend got overexcited.

If anything, this grip was possessive, and seemed almost desperate with the way the person’s fingers dug into the curve of Chuuya’s spine, keeping the two of them plastered together. They were quite a bit taller than Chuuya, and their embrace was so tight that he could barely keep his toes on the ground.

It was annoying, but also kind of…interesting.

Chuuya tried to focus on the feeling of the fabric pressed against his cheek. Knitted, slightly scratchy material—with cables? A wool sweater?

It was certainly warm. Chuuya felt like he was burning up.

…He had really never been held like this before. Like the other person couldn’t bear to let him go. For the life of him, Chuuya didn’t know what to make of it.

After a few stunned moments, Chuuya squirmed a little. The arms around him loosened at once, allowing him to move his own hands up between them and brace himself against the mystery person’s chest.

Chuuya raised his chin towards where the other person’s face must be, and cocked his head to the side challengingly. “What? Was this all you wanted?” he asked, tapping a finger against the person’s chest. “Maybe you misunderstood the game, hmm? I thought you were supposed to ki—”

#I have no explanation for this one — except that I sometimes have an intense urge to put Chuuya in silly romcom situations #a) because i think he'd be hilarious in them #and b) I think he should get to experience some goofy low stakes shenanigans on occasion — dude goes through a lot #also always love Dazai getting chances to be Weird About ChuuyaTM lol #Dazai is losing his mind in this one akasdjfkdsjf #senhart's writing #ask game #long post

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mirrored-movements · 11 months

Text

The Real World

(Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader)

Synopsis: Earth 1218, a place where superheroes and supervillains were nothing but mere fiction- however with the current rise in multidimensional travel- who's to say someone can't get stuck in another place?

Warnings: None, maybe bad writing again Idk

It’d been a long day in your opinion, work was draining, people were draining- everything was draining.

You had to fight the urge to collapse in the entryway hall of your apartment upon entering trying to roll yourself to at least change into some comfortable clothes. At least you had the rest of the week off- the plus side of taking over some extra shifts you supposed.

Quickly peeling off your uniform and tossing it across the room you dawned some random loungewear set; finding yourself quickly tucked within the corner of your couch. Eyes sleepily watching the brightly coloured movie Netflix had recently added.

“Is he voiced by Nicolas Cage?” Murmuring to yourself while watching the monochromatic character speak you let out a sigh. The newest addition to the series had come out not too long ago and in your opinion, it was one of the best movies of the year.

Sucks that you’d have to wait a year for part two, but at least there was a plethora of fan content surfing the internet. Specifically edits and art of your favorite character,

Miguel O’Hara. What a man.

Shaking your head a little at the thought of simping for a 2D character when you were less than capable of keeping a conversation with a real person had you laughing to yourself.

The picture presumably coming off as crazy if you had a roommate or anyone else staying in your apartment, however, it was just you.

Beginning to doze off once again, your eyes barely took in the sight of King pins collider on screen. The bright light of the screen illuminated your entire apartment as though a spotlight had been shining into the room.

The sound of metal clashing against something grated against your ears- you didn't recall having surround sound let alone speakers hooked up to your TV, and why was it so damn bright.

To your relief, the light began to die down, although contrary to the peace and quiet you’d have you were unexpectedly shoved back alongside your couch.

You and the large piece of furniture flipping onto its back skidding across the hardwood floors only stopping once it'd crashed into your dining room set.

Eyes wide and brain startlingly awake now compared to a few second ago you shot up only to duck as a metal pole? Weapon?

No no, it was moving it was moving a lot.

A metal claw had seemingly embedded itself into the wall, the base of it extending in an array of wires inevitably connecting to- the back of a person?

If you weren’t in a state of shock at the moment you were sure your brain could process things better- however between the metal tendrils and claws flying around your apartment and the other sudden intruder clinging to the ceiling- you didn’t think you’d ever recover.

The scuffle they had began to grow one-sided, the other individual who you haven’t quite gotten a good view seemingly winning the fight.

Well, at least you thought they were until the other swung their tendrils around once again, knocking the stranger into the wall where the dining set had been shoved into.

“I had fun really. But I must be going. Tests to run and, other heroes to deal with.” With an almost condescending wave, the perpetrator had opened what you could only describe as a bright orange doorway, their form disappeared just as quickly as the person beside you had shot up.

An irritated yell left them upon being unable to catch the doorway, their tall form standing almost eerily in your living room all the while growing increasingly more annoyed as the watch wrapped around their wrist failed to work in the way they wanted it to.

Careful this time around to peek over the flipped couch your mouth nearly fell open at the illuminated red and blue suit, the man's voice loudly filling the apartment. “Lyla! Lyla, can you hear me? Anyone- Damn it!”

Growing more aggravated he couldn’t help but begin aggressively tapping the face of his watch, only to result in nothing.

A few more low complaints left him before he sucked in a breath beginning to assess the room. The apartment was trashed thanks to his recent fight, however, that didn’t catch his attention quite as much as the sight of you peering over the edge of your flipped couch.

“You,” pointing an almost accusing finger he’d sucked in a breath trying to make his next words less intimidating despite the irritation he felt. “Where am I?”

The question was simple, something he should’ve known however circumstances proved otherwise.

Almost surprised he’d noticed your presence your mouth felt dry, however despite the way your heart thumped and your brain buzzed you answered.

“Earth. 1218 if you want specifics.”

The eyelets of his mask seemed to widen a little at that, his attention moving around the room once again falling upon the surprisingly still-playing movie. The scene where everyone had joined together to fight the main bad guy to be exact.

Unmoving from your spot you waited for his response, nerves still buzzing and palms beginning to sweat.

Remaining quiet he raised a hand rubbing at the bridge of his nose, the head of his suit gradually disappearing until untamed brown hair was revealed. “This,” trying to figure out what he wanted to ask his head turned back to you, his eyes boring into you. “Actually no. You, know me? Yes?”

Nodding your head in response it seems like that didn’t quite give him any reassurance, so instead you spoke. “You’re Miguel O’Hara, Spider-Man 2099.” Finding yourself processing things a little better you'd added a comment. “But the Across the Spider-verse version.”

Nodding his head his hands crossed over one another, the man began to pace back and forth a little in thought.

He couldn’t believe it- out of millions of universes- he was stuck in the one where Alchemax didn’t exist.

Great.

“Was that Doctor Octopus? Or I mean one of them?”

Hearing you speak up once more his gaze moved to meet yours, a hand raising to address you. “That shouldn’t concern you.”

“Ok well if it doesn’t concern me, then why is my apartment trashed and why are you standing in my living room?”

Finding it in you to chime back right after you went to stand only to duck back down behind the couch realizing that the shirt you’d happen to throw on was a printed copy of the man’s suit.

Continuing to stare down at you his jaw clenched, arms coming to overlap one another.

Miguel had decided to ignore your input for the moment speaking as though he didn’t care for property damage. “Do you have a computer I could use?”

It was a simple question however with a nod you’d hesitant stood up again, this time snagging the blanket you previously had on to hide your attire. “Yeah…it’s uh over here.”

A bit wary of passing the man your eyes casted across him, a part of you wanting to engrave each detail into your mind while another part still had a tough time dealing with the situation.

He was so much taller than you’d thought- buffer too and much much more intimidating.

Following with quiet steps Miguel took in the rest of your apartment- quaint really. A little clutter here and there but he supposed it just gave the place some character.

“It’s a bit old but…” “This’ll be fine.” Cutting in Miguel had stepped in through the doorway you held open, large form sticking out like a sore thumb against the small guest room where you’d stuck a computer and desk, trying your best at making an office.

“Password is 2099.” At this point, you could feel exhaustion begin to creep in once more, the adrenaline felt earlier wearing down. “If you need anything I guess just uh call?”

You really should’ve thought everything out a little more, however, perhaps this was some strange dream and you’d really just passed out at work.

Either way, you were certain things were going to be fine by tomorrow morning.

---

Waking up and walking towards the main area of your apartment you barely concealed a yawn, tired eyes briefly drifting across the room seeing that the couch was in its usual spot, as was the rest of your furniture.

However, despite wanting to believe everything was a figment of your imagination- the dents in the wall and the man currently staring out the window told you otherwise. From the neck down his suit seemed to still be present, while his face remained free of the costume.

“Morning?” Finding yourself growing nervous once you’d come to the acceptance of a fictional character standing within your apartment, you remained observing him from a distance, sock-clad feet shuffling towards the kitchen where you tapped your fingers among the counter. “Did you want like a coffee or something?”

Taking in a deep breath Miguel's gaze looked towards where you stood through the reflection in the window, eyes sharp yet his form was less ridged than it was the night prior. “How likely is it that I get recognized here.”

The question was simple, something he could guess the answer to given the circumstances however it didn’t exactly hurt to get an outsider's perspective. He’d spend nearly the entire night looking into resources that could possibly help only to come up upon practically nothing.

He was basically on his own here.

Having made a fresh pot of coffee you’d poured two mugs in case the man decided he wanted something, your hands coming to curve around your own as you pondered over the question. Eyes trailing across his back for a second finding that the cartoony and animated look he had yesterday didn’t seem to stick and that he appeared more lifelike- or well, human-like in the sense that someone could just think he was a cosplayer or something along those lines.

“I wouldn’t say that likely?” Watching him turn around from his spot, the man regarded you with an inquisitive gaze, one that practically told you he was trying to gauge what kind of a person you were. “But don’t you have to get back to- you know?”

Seeing the way he noted the implication you were a little surprised as the man began nearing, the wrist that his watch had been wrapped around being lifted above the counter in clear view for you to see. “Do you see this?” With his other hand, he motioned towards what appeared to have been some sort of rust, the corner of the glass screen beginning to become chipped away. “Nanobots. They’re going to keep eating the exterior and interior until nothing is left.”

Now, there was a part of him that didn’t really want to divulge in any information with you- a part of his brain feeling like he should be guarded instead knowing that you knew more about him then he did about you.

It rubbed him the wrong way- But, it was also a common thing in this universe, so he couldn’t fault you there. If he wanted to get back and deal with things he’d have to make a new watch entirely from scratch, and if he had to do that he needed someone who knew their way around considering he was now pretty much left with only the bare minimum of information around your world.

Earth 1218 wasn’t particularly a place he wanted to be stuck in nor really pay attention to. A fault on his end he will admit.

“So? What are you planning to do?” Hesitant to ask more questions you tried to read the blank look set out across his face, the man’s brows faintly furrowing all the while he’d ended up silently accepting the other mug of coffee you’d made.

A small win in your books.

“I need to build a new one.” Answering simply he stared over the rim of the mug as he took a sip, brown hues boring into your skull as if tempting you to speak.

“And what is your plan there?”

At this point it’s not like telling you wouldn’t hurt, heroes didn’t exist in your world and neither did villains so he supposed the random civilian whose apartment he’d landed in at least deserved at least some explanation.

“Since the portal opened up in your apartment the interdimensional specks are still present here, they can be utilized to open a new doorway through a catalyst where one will open temporarily back to where the original one had opened up- which was my dimension.” Quickly explaining that he finished looking over your slightly confused look before letting out a sigh, the mug briefly being set onto the counter.

“When you start a barbeque you turn on the propane first right?” You gave a nod and he continued, “Then you use the sparker to light the propane.” He paused letting you absorb his example, the man right after using his hands to gesture around as if he were talking to a child. “The propane is like the specks and the catalyst is the sparker.”

“Do the specks ever leave?”

“I don’t know,” Finding that he himself didn’t have an answer to that he let out a breath, hand beginning to tap along the countertop.

“But this is why I need to move fast.”

---

Now, it wasn’t that you didn't want to help Miguel- quite the contrary you were elated to have been able to help him. However, he still was one of your biggest fictional crushes and currently, you’d both been crammed within the confines of your small car. A glimmer of regret sparked across your expression upon realizing how strange the music on your phone was as well as how much of a fan you actually were.

So embarrassing.

Despite your clearly tense form, he seemed rather calm. Eyes taking in as much as they could all the while running his fingers across the civilian clothes he’d swapped into. He trusted your reassurance of people not being able to recognize him, the small mirror within your apartment becoming an item of interest as he noted the change in his appearance.

It was very strange.

“So do you like, have a mental list of what you need? Or are we just going to walk in blind?” Willing yourself to break the silence you’d pulled into the parking lot of a department store, something you assumed would have at least some of the things that Miguel would need.

“I have a general idea. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“Great.” Finding yourself still sitting in the car despite having parked it you watched Miguel slip out through your peripheral, the man’s tall frame stepping away from the car only to pause.

Was…wait, was he waiting for you?

As if realizing this, you scrambled to collect your things quickly slipping out of the car and locking it behind you. Your shoes tapped against the cement as you’d caught up with the brunette coming to walk an arm's length away.

Stepping into the store you’d moved to grab a cart, arms folding over the handles as you trailed behind your newly three-dimensional companion. His sharp gaze scanning each and everything occasionally seeing something of interest into the cart.

“What is the most recent thing that was invented here?” Glancing back at where you leisurely strolled behind him Miguel watched as his voice had caused you to jump slightly, attention trailing away from whatever was on your mind.

“Probably VR? That’s I think the most recent thing. No flying cars or anything like that here- too much of a liability really if you think about it. People are stupid.”

Unsure of what to really take from that answer he couldn’t help but let out a low snort, head shaking from one side to the other in a sort of agreement towards your ‘people are stupid’ bit.

Conversation after that seemed to come a bit easier, the topic ranging from either of you asking a question to the other or just something else mundane.

It wasn’t really much longer till the two of you were back in your apartment, bags in hand filled with miscellaneous items that may or may not help with Miguel's current situation. It didn’t take long for both of you to part; you mentioned how you were going to patch up the holes left in the wall and Miguel just motioning towards your office which at this point had become his temporary residence.

At least for the time being. Only time would tell how long he would be stuck there.

---

“A hologram, it’s a hologram.”

“No, it’s UMF, not a hologram. Unstable Molecule Fabric.”

“But is it actually fabric? I haven't read the comics.” Starring almost too intently down at Miguel's arm that was still clad in his suit you spared him a glance, the tips of your ears nearly burning off at the ‘are you kidding?’ look he’d given.

“If it were fabric I’d tear through it anytime I needed to use these.” Raising his hand small claw-like spikes rose from the pads of his fingers, something you’d nearly forgotten alongside the fact he had fangs.

It’d been about three days since his initial appearance, and a watch prototype was steadily being made however despite the many protests on his end you were able to convince the man to take a break here and there.

Just like a regular person he still needed to eat and sleep and whatnot, and with nobody else there to remind him- namely Lyla, you were the only person left.

He was aggravated about it when you’d first done it, however, the retort of ‘making up for the damage to my apartment’ was what kept his annoyance at bay- he did feel bad at this point for the amount of damage that was caused despite not really caring when it first happened.

You’d been quite helpful- not in the same sense as another spider-person or Lyla but in the sense of a personified conscience.

That and he found it amusing sometimes how you’d often try to hide whatever spider-themed merchandise you had. The look of shock and embarrassment was written across your face when he’d found a mug with the same design as his mask was nearly priceless.

In a comedic sense of course- you were, entertaining.

As if snapping back to reality he retracted the claws, shaking his head a bit-Focus. “I need to get back to working on the device.”

“Alright. You know where to find me if you need me.” Musing that out knowing that he was eager to get back to work you watched him spare you a nod, form disappearing back into the hallway where you’d only see him emerge from once every few hours.

If that guy could work himself to death you’d bet he would.

---

Emerging from the room he’d been in Miguel let out a breath, his watch was still gradually deteriorating while the watch he’d been working on seemed at least a quarter of the way done-there were so many things he still had to do, and had to fix before he could even try and open up a gate.

Raising a hand and running it through his hair he let out a breath, eyes taking a moment to adjust to the lack of light in the apartment spotting the gentle glow of the living room TV. Glancing towards the end of the hall where your room had been he could see that the door was open and nobody was inside leading him to assume you’d been curled up on the couch as he’d noted you often did.

There were a few things you did that he found himself unwillingly taking note of. One of the few being how you always nestled yourself into the very corner of the couch when watching a show or movie, or- as of recently how whenever you brewed coffee or tea that you’d made a second cup.

Quietly trekking through the hallway and into the main room another sigh left him upon seeing the way you’d fallen asleep, three thoughts beginning to conflict one another within the confines of his brain as he’d waited to see if you were indeed asleep.

Which you were.

Muttering under his breath in another language he trailed a little closer; on one hand he should just wake you up and remind you of the last time you’d fallen asleep on the couch and had complained for the whole day. However on another hand, he felt like the sight brought some comfort he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Most of the interaction with you brought some sort of strange comfort- something he tried his damnedest to ignore in favor of dealing with his current circumstances. He knew Lyla for sure would be either teasing or harping on him for whatever reason.

Weighing all his options he seemed to just give in, the man's frame looming before you as he’d leaned down to stick his arms under your curled-up frame, the blanket you had coming along as he’d hauled you up silently.

What was he thinking-

A low hum in what he could only describe as content left you, cheek leaning to the side against him as he’d marched down the hall coming to lean over the surface of your bed where he set you down. Gaze softening only a little as he’d puffed out a breath through his nose.

“Stop it O’Hara.” Remarking that to himself he’d turned on his heel, head shaking from side to side.

“You have your priorities.”

---

Waking up nestled within the warm covers of your bed wasn’t the first thing that roused you from sleep- no no, the thing that roused you was the mug currently being held in front of your sleeping form. Mouth dry and hair a mess.

“Morning.”

Blinking a few times at the greeting you stared up at Miguel in suspicion, heart thumping softly at how the morning sun that’d crept through your curtains illuminated his defined features.

“Did you- is the watch finished?” Noting how he donned civilian clothes instead of his suit you blinked a few more times trying to figure out why there was this feeling of missing something.

“Almost.” Answering easily he moved to lean against the side of your doorframe, brown hues regarding you with a mix of undecipherable emotions. “Your neighbour came knocking on your door this morning.”

Having taken a sip from your mug you nearly choked at what he’d said, knowing that no matter which neighbour it was that they were nosy as hell.

“And you didn’t come get me? What did they want?”

At that, you swore you could see the edge of his lip twitch up, shoulder pushing off the doorframe. “She said to keep it quiet. There's kids in the building.”

Setting your drink to the side you flung the covers of your bed over your face, a sort of muffled groan coming out. That was so embarrassing they must’ve gotten the wrong impression by all the noise when the fight had happened- oh god that- as if coming to a realization you flung the sheets back down. “And what did you say?!”

“I apologized,” In the moment he wasn’t sure what exactly to say, attention focused on how you were nearly at the edge of your seat in anticipation awaiting the response- face faintly flushed. “And told her we’d keep it down.”

Why did he say that? He wasn’t sure, it was out of character a bit but the reaction it got out of you made the response all the better.

Maybe, just maybe it wouldn’t hurt to get to know you properly.

---

As he’d mentioned the watch was finished within a few days. The device now sitting silently ontop of the desk; the plan of using it later being written off for the time being.

In those days you’d taken note of the slight banter that’d happen between yourself and Miguel. Things seemingly becoming more friendly despite the situation and you couldn’t help but be more than enthused about it.

“You want to see some of my favourite places?” Taken aback by the request you stated at him in a mix between disbelief and surprise. “I thought you had to go back as soon as possible?”

“I do, but the window to open a gate is open better around the time it was last time- so late in the evening.”

Whether that was an excuse or not was up to you to discern.

Pursing your lips together you continued to stare at him inquisitively. “Ok well, uh we could go check out this market? I don’t know how good it is now since I haven’t been able to go in years.”

“If that’s where you’d like to go.”

Side eyeing him once more you nodded lightly, beginning to round up what you needed before the two of you had quickly set off.

The cars atmosphere quiet until he’d spoken. “When all this first happened. What did you think?”

Perhaps it was the inevitability of him having to leave that spurred the question on or had led him to become more open- but nonetheless the question was something he’d grown curious about.

When you’d first met he could tell you were in a state of shock, whether from the fight or from his appearance didn’t matter. Your answers were thought out and yet he recalled how you’d walked around him at a distance, keeping that distance until later on. Disbelief is what he chalked it up to however he was also partially to blame on the distance.

“Well, I thought I was crazy- of course who wouldn’t. I thought maybe it was some weird vivid dream.” Your fingers began to tap softly against the steering wheel. “Also you’re like really intimidating, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Self awareness is the key to happiness.” Pulling into the parking lot outside of where the little market was you quickly popped out, excitement gradually brewing within you.

Shaking his head he himself stepped out of the car, moving to trail behind you as you begun maneuvering through the varying stalls. Little hand carved and hand made trinkets covered each table, the person standing behind sparing those who’d passed by a kind smile.

It was so calm over here- in this world. Compared to really anything he had to deal with.

“Miguel-“ Brown hues warmly trailed towards where you had emerged from, the man unknowingly having spaced out for a second enough for you to disappeared and come back. “Give me your hand.”

“Why?”

“Just- hold it out for me come on, this is your last day here.” Putting your own had up and trying to coax him to do the same you quickly moved to lace your hand with his once he’d complied, your other hand moving a bracelet from your wrist across your hands onto his.

“There.” Pulling your hand back your face flushed a little at the stoic look he had, eyes fixed on the small accessory. “I tried to pick something that sits flat for you and doesn’t look particularly flashy.”

As you’d mentioned it wasn’t particularly flashy, the design of it was just a collection of chevrons wrapping around the length of his wrist made up of some sort of grey stone.

Forcing a cough into his hand his face turned to the side. “Thank you.”

That small show of gratitude nearly had you bouncing off the ground. A smile that could probably rival the sun bloomed across your face.

“I’m glad you like it, it’s just a little something to remind me by.”

“You’re not that immemorable.”

It seemed like a slight changing of tide after that, the both of your resuming your little stroll through the stalls bringing up some meaningless conversation.

It felt like, now that everything was coming to an end you’d never felt more at home. Thinking back on it you quite enjoyed Miguel’s company, not just in the ‘you were my fictional crush kind of way’ but in the way that a domestic couple would- as much as you wouldn’t say that out loud.

That sort of companionship was something your heart yearned for however it just showed you that fate was a cruel thing- maybe this was your canon event.

Reaching the unattainable and being doomed to fall.

—-

“And you’re sure this won’t blow up my apartment or something?”

“It might?”

“That is not comforting at all.” Rolling your eyes in return at his answer you remained slightly ducked behind the couch while Miguel stood where he first did when he first arrived.

The watch he previously wore was stripped away, the corroded metal being too far gone to savage and in its place was the missmash of parts that made up what you could only assume was the new one.

Watching him tap a few things onto it you couldn’t help but call out, “Miguel,” Turning briefly to show you had his attention you continued. “Thanks.”

“For?”

Your lips curled into a faint smile, “not being a product of my psychosis.”

His lips quirked up at this, head shaking as a low airy laugh left him. A sort of melancholic look crossing his face as he tapped a few more things among his watch, a spark of orange gradually beginning to grow until a portal had opened up. “See you around (Y/N).”

Nodding his way you couldn’t help but wish the portal hadn’t opened up in the frist place- but it did and just as quickly as it’d opened it closed leaving you on your own.

An almost bitter laugh leaving your lips.

---

Weeks later you found yourself snuggled into the comfort of your bed, hand scrolling aimlessly across some edits. The sound of your phone barely did much in comparison to the quiet thrum of your apparement.

Despite knowing you’d be coming home to an empty apartment you couldn’t help but think deep in your heart that something might be different.

Nodding off a little your eyes barely took note of the light shining into your livingroom, the orange glow disappearing quickly.

Your brows furrowed at this, phone clutched tightly within your hand as you strained your ears to listen for anything.

Nothing.

Slipping out from beneath the safety of your blankets your feet quietly padded their way down the hall, eyes struggling to adjust to the dark. Your hand followed the length of the wall, heart rate gradually beginning to speed up as you willed yourself to look into the livingroom.

Nothing.

Letting out a breath you tensed quickly as something had pressed against your eyes, your own hands reactively reaching up finding them wrapping around someone’s wrists. Their large hands being the reason for your current lack of vision.

The feeling of someone leaning over your shoulder had caused your nerves to spike, however once their spoke did your nerves spike for a different reason.

“Guess who?”

------------------

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elizabethemerald · 1 year

Text

Summoning the Cat: Part 2

Danny and Selina reunite in the Batcave, despite Bruce’s wishes to the contrary. A very anxious Jazz accompanies him.

Despite Jason and Dick insisting that Danny was safe in the Batplane with them, Selina still couldn’t force herself to relax. She paced the cave for a few more hours while they flew back across the country to Gotham. When Alfred came down into the cave to prep the medical bay she joined him, more for something to do with her hands than because she actually knew all that much about medicine. To her endless annoyance Bruce followed her around as if she was suddenly going to go off and start killing people. No wonder Jason couldn’t stand to be near the Big Bad Bat anymore.

Tim and Damian had both come back down to the cave at some point to check in before they left for Wayne Industries and school respectively. Cass and Steph were again sleeping together on the couch in the bat cave. Except rather than cutely cuddled together, Stephanie was fully sprawled across the couch, face down and drooling into the fabric. Cassandra was sleeping on top of her girlfriend like one of Selina’s cats. It really was too bad Bruce found her first, she would have made an excellent cat burglar under Selina’s tutelage.

The distant roar of a jet engine once again startled the two girls awake. Steph tried to flail Cass off who just ended up perched on the back of the couch, again looking uncannily like a cat while Steph ended up in an undignified puddle on the ground. The Batplane slowly taxied into the cave before it came to rest, the metal groaning and popping as it settled.

Selina waited impatiently for the ramp to descend, eager for her first glimpse of her son again. Finally she could see him, tiredly leaning on the red headed girl who must be his adopted sister. They had a shared blanket wrapped around both of their shoulders and would have stumbled down the ramp had Jason, still in his Red Hood helmet not steadied them.

She took a step to run forward to embrace her son, but hesitated. She didn’t give a shit about Bruce’s overabundance of caution. What held her back was the look of fear on the girl’s face. She was pale and had deep dark circles under her eyes, and her hair was starting to grow wild and frizzy as if she hadn’t been taking proper care of it and had been running her fingers through for the past several hours. More than anything she looked like she was on the edge of a panic attack. She kept glancing around, her eyes tracking Bruce and the girls. Stopping on Selina before quickly glancing away. Trying to find the exit of the cave and cataloging weapons and threats.

Instead of dashing forward like she wanted, she took a simple step forward, drawing both of the kids’ eyes to her. She gave them both a wide smile, and opened up her arms and posture a little. She did everything she could to make herself see like she wasn’t a threat, that the children were welcome.

“Hello again Danny.” Selina gave her son a warm look before turning to the girl. “And you must be his sister. My name is Selina Kyle. I believe I’m Danny’s birth mother.”

Danny gave her a tired smile in return, obviously despite sleeping on the plane he still had a lot of sleep he needed to catch up on. He pulled away from his sister’s lingering hand and after a moment of hesitation stepped into Selina’s welcoming embrace. He held her gently at first, like he wasn’t certain he should or that he was afraid she would disappear, then he gave her a proper squeeze, and she tried to hug him back with just as much strength. He leaned back from her to look at her face, seemingly examining her just as she had done to him, trying to find the similarities between the two of them.

“H-hi, Mrs. Kyle. I feel- I can feel you. That we have a connection. I can feel that we’re family.” He seemed to be puzzling out what he was thinking as he was speaking, and Selina realized it was all probably just as new for him as it was for her. Then he seemed to shake himself and gestured back toward his sister. “This is my sister, Jazz! She’s the one who's taken care of me up to this point.”

Selina turned to Jazz and gave her the same warm smile she had given her son. She opened her arms to allow the girl to choose whether she wanted a hug or not. Even more hesitantly than before, Jazz stepped into the hug. Selina could feel the girl flinch in her arms, so she kept her hug gentle, and allowed her to pull back when she seemed to have enough, though Selina kept her arms on the girl’s shoulders.

“Thank you so much for taking care of my son for so long. Thank you for keeping him safe until I could find him again.” Selina said softly, her words only for Jazz. Despite her soft tone the girl still flinched slightly, but managed to plaster on a pleasant looking smile.

“Of course Mrs. Kyle. I’m just glad that Danny is happy and safe. That’s all that’s important to me.”

“Please you two, both of you can call me Selina. And either way I’m not married.” She turned to shoot a coy look at Bruce, but instead sneered when she saw his stern, disapproving look. Honestly, what was he expecting to accomplish with a look like that? It wasn’t like he constantly disapproved of her every action or anything. The looks lost their impact long ago.

“Catwoman.” Bruce growled, taking her look as permission to approach. He was still wearing his silly little cowl. “Perhaps, to confirm your parentage, we can perform a blood test to see if you and the boy match?”

Selina was about to make another dismissive comment about his paranoia, when both of the kids reacted. Danny flinched back violently while Jazz stepped fully in front of her brother. Both of them looked like they were on the edge of fleeing for their lives. Certainly Batman growling and stalking closer were scary, but their reactions were far more than she had expected. She mentally played the conversation back and she realized what the problem was. The blood test. Plasmius had said Danny’s parents had experimented on him. She would not allow Bruce to make the children’s first experience in Gotham to be him throwing their trauma back in their face. She immediately steps in between Jazz and Bruce, facing the Bat.

“Get out of the way Catwoman.” Bruce growled, reaching beneath his cape for some piece of equipment from his belt. “You’re behaving irrationally. They are controlling you.”

She could hear the kids behind her breathing faster and faster. They were moments away from either a panic attack or sprinting out of the cave. She didn’t want to try and find two ghostly kids in Gotham if they did run, especially not with the Bat also searching for them. Bruce takes another step into her space, his arm is moving to bring up whatever bat themed weapon he’s about to use against her to try and subdue her and her children and she reacts on instinct.

The first slap across his face, while surprising, didn't do much more than sting. The following knee to the ribs she gave him was enough to force him back a step. Before she could follow up another fist came from the sidelines and knocked Bruce straight to the ground. Red Hood stood over the bat glaring down at him.

“Stay down old man.” Hood’s heavily modulated voice echoed around the cave. “You’re scaring the kids.”

Selina stepped back to comfort the two kids who still looked like they were a moment away from pulling a disappearing act. Jazz was still protectively standing in front of Danny who looked like he had started dissociating. Steph and Cass were both glaring at Bruce and Dick had pulled his escrima. Jason’s chest was rising and falling quickly as he tried to control his anger before he tried to kill Bruce. And the man himself looked up from the floor at all of them.

“Don’t ever threaten my kids again.” Selina snarled at Bruce and began to usher the children away.

“I’ll drive you and the kids to your penthouse, Selina.” Jason said, finally overcoming his anger enough to speak, though his posture was still tense as he led them out of the cave.

It felt like only a few seconds had passed before Selina was unlocking the front door of her penthouse condominium to let the kids in. Jason left them at the front door saying he needed to blow off some steam, by which he probably meant blow something up. Jazz alternated between trying to protectively shelter her brother and anxiously worrying her hands. Danny had finally come back to himself a little and was looking around the rooms with an awed look on his face.

Selina was only half way into her tour when there was a knock at her front door. Jazz again tensed, but Selina knew that if the Bat wanted to come for her he wouldn’t come by the front door. And sure enough at the door was Cass, Steph and Dick, all now in the civies. Cass had Selina’s catsuit and the icy armor Danny had made for her in her hands. Steph had a couple of bags of groceries containing what looked like an entire snack aisle and Dick had several sodas and a small cake.

“We wanted to throw a small welcome party!” Steph said with a smile while her girlfriend leaned over her shoulder. Cass also had a small smile on her face as she looked curiously at the kids.

“Sorry about Bruce. I’ve had my share of fights with him. Either he’ll come around eventually or Alfred will order him not to engage with any of you.” Dick explained as Selina welcomed them into her home. “And Steph is right! Welcome home Alan- I mean Danny!”

Selina smiled at the mischievous trio. She was certain that Damian, Barbara and Timothy would be by later to welcome the new family members. And Jason once he was done blowing up warehouses belonging to Black Mask or Penguin. Even Jazz and Danny seemed to relax and look happier at the welcome wagon that had just rolled up. It was good to have her kids home.

#dp x dc #Danny Phantom #selina kyle #batman #bruce wayne #jazz fenton #dick grayson #Jason Todd #writing emerald

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sattlersquarry · 1 year

Text

forget-me-not (steve harrington x gn!reader)

Summary: (Post Season 4) Steve Harrington broke your heart almost a year ago. You think it's only right to still hold a grudge, despite how good he seems.

Word Count: ~5.9k

Warnings: Language, alcohol, sex is mentioned and alluded to but not described, angst with a happy ending, this was originally inspired by Little Freak by Harry Styles but it got away from me and now it's a different beast entirely.

A/N: There are a lot of lovely fics out there where y/n gets stood up for a date and best friend Steve comforts them, but I'm evil, so in this one, Steve is the stander-upper 😈

April, 1986

Hawkins is in shambles.

The earthquake ravaged the town, and now ash spews out of large cracks in the ground every few days. The military attempts to contain the strange, almost reptilian animals in the forests, but there are too many to keep up with, and all citizens are encouraged to be in their homes by 6 p.m.

You don’t fully understand how it went down, how the sweet, small town you grew up in became such a nightmare.

You’ve been spending your time volunteering with the relief effort. In doing so, you’ve gotten closer to people you’ve tangentially known all your life but never gotten to know that well. You’re also forced to spend time with people you’d never wanted to see again.

One such person is Steve Harrington: former playboy turned into…you aren’t really sure yet. Despite your grudge, he’s better. Kinder. Softer around the edges than he was during your school days. During the days he broke your heart.

Perhaps that’s melodramatic. You hooked up once last summer, and then he stood you up for an Enzo’s date. You aren’t even sure he remembers doing it, but as you stand side-by-side folding donated clothes, the memory sears through your brain.

Summer, 1985

You try to contain your excitement as you enter Enzo’s. You’ve been on plenty of dates to cheap diners and movies, but this is your first real, official, proper “adult” date.

So what if you’re doing things out of order? Sure, you’ve already slept with Steve. The two of you both worked at Starcourt before it burned down, and you spent all of June flirting on your breaks. You’d visit him at Scoops Ahoy, he’d visit you at Waldenbooks. He’d walk you to your car the nights you both closed, promising to provide free ice cream for you tomorrow.

After a particularly hard day and long shift, you’re easily enticed when Steve asks if you want to come over.

“For pizza,” he says. “And a movie.”

So you eat pizza, and watch a movie, and then you kiss him a little, and then he kisses you a lot, and the next thing you know, the two of you are in his bed.

It isn’t the awkward one-night stand you’re afraid it will be. On the contrary, Steve is genuine and sincere the morning after.

“I really like you,” he says. He brushes a hair out of your face as you lay side-by-side, curled up under the covers. “I want to take you out.”

“To dinner?”

“No, with a sniper,” he says with a snort. “Yes, to dinner!”

So you agree to go to Enzo’s the following Friday night.

After the mall fire, Steve calls and asks to postpone a couple weeks.

“I’m just in a weird place right now,” he says. His voice is a little hoarse.

“Is everything okay?” you ask, concern etched in your tone. “Do you need anything?”

“No, no! I just—listen, can we meet up in two weeks instead?”

You assure him that’s fine, and you spend the next two weeks preparing for the date. Your friends help you pick an outfit. You decide what you’re going to order ahead of time. You even pick a perfume that’s strawberry scented, since you know that’s Steve’s favorite ice cream flavor.

The day of the date, the Enzo’s host leads you to the table Steve reserved. You wait, and wait, and wait, and after thirty-five minutes, the waiter comes around for the fourth time to ask if you’re ready to order.

“My date’s running a little late,” you say. Panic nests in the back of your mind, but you push it down. “Can I have a few more minutes?”

“You must order something to keep the table,” the waiter says snidely.

“Oh, right, sorry,” you say, snatching up your menu. “Um, can I just have two of the house special?”

The waiter gives you a prim nod and retreats.

You beeline to the slew of payphones, hands shaking as you dial Steve’s number. You get his voicemail.

“Hey, Steve,” you say, trying to keep your voice upbeat. “It’s me. Y/N. Um, I’m at Enzo’s and I’m waiting for you. Our table’s in the back, near the potted plants? I hope you don’t mind, I ordered for you. The waiter was about to blow a gasket. Anyway, I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You return to your table. And wait. And wait. And wait.

The waiter brings you two plates of chicken parmesan. You eat yours and wait. Then, you eat Steve’s, and you wait some more.

90 minutes after your arrival at the restaurant, you head to the payphones again. You suck in a shuddery breath and try to keep from tearing up as your fingers fumble over Steve’s number. Voicemail, again.

“Steve, me again. Are you still coming? The wait staff are starting to give me pitying looks. I really, really had a good time with you this summer and want to see where this goes…it’s fine if you don’t feel the same. But, please, come to the restaurant so we can talk. Or, just call the restaurant and they can get the phone to me. Um, okay. Bye.”

A full two-and-a-half hours after your arrival at Enzo’s, you’re a wreck. You’ve ordered five desserts to try and keep your table, on the foolish hope that Steve will arrive.

He doesn’t.

Your waiter has softened somewhat when he brings you the check.

“Whoever they are,” he says in a low voice, “they aren’t worth it.”

Your face burns hot with embarrassment as you hand him your credit card.

After getting a to-go box for the strawberry cheesecake you ordered for Steve, you slink to the payphones once more. This time, you don’t stop the tears from falling, but you compose yourself enough to keep the final voicemail from devolving into a blubbery mess.

“Steve. I just wanted to let you know I’m leaving. I waited for you for almost three hours.” You sniffle and add, “If all you wanted from me was a one-night stand, why did you make me think otherwise? Jerk. Have a nice life, Harrington.”

You slam the phone against the cradle and stomp out of the restaurant, waiting until you get behind the wheel of your car to let out a heaving sob.

April, 1986

“Earth to Y/N!”

Steve snaps his fingers in your face and you startle.

“Sorry, what did you say?” you say, shaking yourself out of the memories that makes you hate the boy next to you.

“I asked if you had any plans this weekend?”

You resist the urge to scoff. Fun plans, amidst the disaster? And he’s trying to make small talk with you? That further confirms your theory that he’s forgotten all about you, or that he’s such an arrogant blowhard he doesn’t even realize how much he hurt you.

“I might go to Enzo’s,” you say, trying to jog his memory. “It’s one of the only restaurants still open right now, and I hear the chicken parm is really good.”

You glance at him, but his facial expression remains unchanged: a contented smile as he organizes the clothes he’s folding into boxes for summer and winter.

��Hey, that sounds fun. Oh, you should get the strawberry cheesecake. It’s delicious.”

You scowl, having hit your limit of being nice to him.

“You’re such an ass,” you scoff, shoving a bundle of folded sweatshirts into his arms and storming off.

“Huh? What? Whoa, whoa, Y/N! Wait up!”

You weave through the volunteers, heading toward the doors for a much-needed respite. Steve, however, won’t leave you be.

“Hold on!” he says, catching up to you and stepping in front, blocking your escape. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you kidding?” You bark out a humorless laugh. “Wow, you’re more of an idiot than I thought.”

Hurt flashes across his face, brow furrowing.

“Excuse me?”

“You seriously don’t remember?” you say. “Last summer? Enzo’s?”

Steve scrunches his face up with confusion. He rubs his eyes.

“Wait, hold on,” he says. “When did we go to Enzo’s?”

“We were supposed to, at the end of July,” you say. You jab a finger in his chest and push just a tad too hard. “But you fucked me and then stood me up, and you never even called me back. Steve, I felt used and I was mortified. And you have the audacity to ask me about my plans and recommend the Enzo’s strawberry cheesecake, as if I didn’t eat three slices waiting for your sorry ass to show up!”

You start to storm off, but Steve grabs a hold of your shoulder.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he begs. “Please don’t go. I just—I can’t remember—when did we make the Enzo’s plans?”

“Who cares when? What matters is you didn’t show—”

“Y/N!” Steve says louder, catching the attention of some nearby volunteers. He blushes and drags you to a secluded corner behind some old gym mats. Eyes wide with panic and shame, he repeats, “When did we make the plans?”

You wrench free of his grasp.

“We originally made the plans a few days before the Fourth,” you say, voice cold, “after we slept together. You asked to reschedule. And I never heard from you again.”

About seven different emotions flick across Steve’s face.

“Oh, shit. I think I know what—listen, last summer I started having these gaps in my memory, and I—”

“Save it,” you say tiredly. “I don’t need your excuses, Harrington. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Before he can say anything, you leave him alone with his thoughts and regrets.

🍓🍓🍓

Steve is starting to think the universe hates him.

After his foray into the Russian bunker, he remembered about your date and that he needed to reschedule. He even called Enzo’s and changed the reservation. But the weeks following the drugging and the beating, he started to forget more and more things.

He missed a dentist appointment. He forgot what day his parents were coming back into town, so he set the dinner table for the whole family six nights in a row until they actually returned. He unintentionally skipped a job interview at Bradley’s Big Buy with Robin.

That night you waited for him at Enzo’s, he could tell he’d forgotten something. He assumed it was giving Dustin a ride.

“What are you doing here?” Dustin had asked when Steve parked his BMW outside the Henderson house.

“Don’t you need a ride somewhere?” Steve had said with a frown.

Dustin, not one to turn down a free carpool, had Steve take him to the arcade.

Steve wasn’t home when you called from the restaurant. When he did return home, his mother had already deleted your voicemails, assuming they were all telemarketers.

Steve never got your messages, but he didn’t forget about you. He saw you in town a few weeks later and tried to go talk to you, but when you saw him coming, you glared and darted in the other direction.

He tried not to be too hurt by that. His foggy memory made him wonder if he misread any signals. Maybe you had just been looking for a one-night fling. Maybe the sex hadn’t been good for you. Maybe you had moved on and found a new guy while Steve recovered from the Battle of Starcourt. He didn’t hold it against you if you had.

Now, eight months later, Steve realizes he’s been wrong this whole time.

“I messed up and Y/N hates me!” Steve groans, ferociously spreading peanut butter on bread. Robin works on the jelly sides as they prepare meals for the hungry of Hawkins.

“It’s not your fault that you forgot the date!” Robin says. She drops her voice to a whisper and adds, “We were tortured. You were concussed.”

“But I didn’t even call,” Steve says. He slaps two slices of bread together harshly, angry at himself. “After I saw them looking so upset in town, I should’ve called to check in. To clear the air. If I had, maybe I would’ve realized what happened and could’ve fixed it.”

“You can think about ‘what ifs’ all day,” Robin says. “Or you can try to make things right.”

“I can’t,” Steve says. “They won’t even look at me anymore. I don’t blame them.”

“I don’t get why they’d hold such a grudge,” Robin wonders, neatly packing their newest sandwich into a brown paper bag. “I mean, you missed one date. It’s not like you slept with them and ditched them. Unless…”

Robin narrows her eyes at Steve. Ashamed, he doesn’t look up from sandwich making.

Robin scowls and smacks his shoulder.

“Ouch! Robin!”

“You are the horniest dingus this side of the Mississippi,” Robin says. “Of course they’re so angry! They think you used them for sex! Technically you did, since you never followed up.”

“What happened to the ‘it’s not my fault’ shit!”

“It’s not! But the unfortunate truth is that you look like a total ass. You need to apologize.”

Steve does. He’s fully vulnerable and partially honest, and spins a tale about how a new medication with unfun side effects, such as brain fog, is why he completely forgot the date.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N,” Steve says, after he’s finished. He’s tempted to ask if you’d be willing to try again, but he resists.

You study him, eyes scanning his face for any indication he’s bullshitting you. You don’t look angry, but you don’t look very forgiving either.

“It’s fine,” you say, after what feels like a millennia. Steve relaxes when you give him a small smile. “Let’s just move on. Hand me those sweatshirts?”

And so you two continue to work together, nothing more than acquaintances at best.

August, 1986

Steve almost dies in the final fight with Vecna.

The battle causes more earthquakes that leave many in town dead or wounded. Eleven is finally able to kill Vecna and destroy the Upside Down once and for all—but not before Steve is severely wounded by Vecna’s army of demodogs.

He doesn’t remember much after the attack. He thinks he remembers Robin and Dustin crying. Someone—Hopper? Jonathan, maybe?—carrying him out of the Upside Down. The paramedics asking him his name, the year, the president, to count backwards from 10.

Then, it’s all a bit fuzzy, until he wakes up a few days later. He’s got a lot more scars than he did, but he’s alive and Vecna is gone, so that’s something.

He doesn’t expect to see you in his hospital room when he comes to.

“Y/N?” he croaks.

You whip around, eyes wide as if you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t. Except you aren’t doing anything wrong—you’re adding a stuffed bear to the collection of Get Well Soon gifts on the windowsill.

“Oh, shit,” you say. “Let me get your doctors.”

When you disappear into the hall, he gets a better look at the teddy bear you’ve brought. It’s pink, with a strawberry-shaped nose. The mylar balloon tied to its paw says: Get Well Bear-y Soon! Steve’s heart swells at the realization that you remember his favorite flavor, that you went to the trouble to buy him a gift. He’s not sure he deserves it.

He assumes you’ll come back in, but instead, a swarm of doctors and nurses encroach. Then, it’s Dustin and Robin and Nancy and Jonathan visiting him. Then, Hopper and Joyce and the other kids.

By the end of the day, he’s exhausted from visitors, but he still wants to see you once more.

He does, three days later.

He returns to his hospital room after physical therapy—the demodogs did a number on his shoulder. You’re there again, adding a Feel Better card to his stash. You startle when he walks in.

“Hi!” you say, a bit louder than intended. You clear your throat. “Sorry. I don’t want to disturb you, I’ll just go—”

“You’re not disturbing me,” Steve says. “I could actually really use the company.”

That’s a lie. Robin’s been in his room so much the nurses think she’s his sister. But you don’t have to know that.

You relax and nod.

“Sure, yeah, I can stay for a few minutes.”

Steve sinks onto his hospital bed and you sit in an uncomfortable-looking, plasticky armchair.

Silence stretches between you two. It’s not tense, but it’s charged with something.

The two of you start speaking at the same time.

“Sorry,” you say. “I just—I hope it’s not weird that I’m here.”

“What? No, not weird at all,” Steve says. “We’re friends.”

And that’s true. The past four months, the two of you have become much closer. Still fully platonic, but on the cusp of something more.

“Robin told me that you got hurt in the big quake,” you say, clueless to the true nature of the disasters. “She said—um, she said you almost didn’t—almost didn’t make it. And that made me feel horrible, because I really like you…r friendship. And I couldn’t imagine losing that. So I’m glad you’re going to be okay.”

You hesitate before covering his hand with yours. His hands are calloused and warm. Yours are icy cold. Steve represses a shiver at your touch.

“Thank you for coming,” Steve says. You squeeze his hand and his breath stutters. He recovers just enough to say, “And thank you for the bear. He rocks.”

“You like him?” you say, glancing over at the fluffy teddy on the windowsill. “You should name him Enzo. In honor of the strawberry cheesecake.”

“I was actually thinking of naming him Beartholomew,” Steve says. “Beary, for short.”

“That’s perfect. Or Beart, like Bart?”

He chuckles. The sound of it triggers an incomparable feeling in your chest.

“I like that. Beart Harrington.”

The two of you smile at each other. It feels warm and easy, same as your flirtationship the summer prior.

Your eyes flick to his lips. Is it weird to ask someone on a date in a hospital? you think.

Before you can turn on the charm and see if Steve wants to join you for a cup of Jell-O in the cafeteria, the door swings open and his friends Dustin, Robin, and Erica rush in.

You drop his hand on instinct. Steve misses the feeling of your touch.

“Steve, Max is about to be discharged and she asked—oh, hey Y/N!” Robin says. “Sorry, are we interrupting—”

“I was just leaving,” you say, standing. “I have to head to the soup kitchen. Then I’m back to the high school for more donation work. But I’ll see you around, okay?”

Steve wants to ask you to skip your shifts and stay. But the request dies on his throat. Instead, he just nods and says, “See you around.”

You give a polite nod and smile to his friends before leaving.

“Is that them?” Erica asks once you’re out of earshot. “The one you’re totally crushing on, like a weirdo stalker?”

“He’s not a stalker!” Dustin says. “He’s pursuing his Suzie.”

Steve rolls his eyes.

“They’re not my Suzie,” Steve says, “as much as I want them to be. That ship sailed, ages ago.”

October, 1986

When things in Hawkins are a little better, you’re able to start your second year at Roane County Community College.

Steve and Robin enroll as well, and share an apartment off-campus. For Halloween, they invite you and half the student body to a rager.

You don’t want to go at first. Mainly because you’re afraid alcohol will spur you to do something stupid, like tell Steve that you want him.

You’re not sure why you do. You gave him the benefit of the doubt but still don’t fully believe his story about why he missed your date, and wonder if his recent kindness and friendship is a trap to lure you in and break your heart once more.

But that seems too cruel for him. He’s not like that, you’ve learned in your six months of new friendship.

Plus, he almost died over the summer, and while that kind of thing would’ve made you bitter and angry and terrified of the world, Steve doesn’t let it weigh him down. He’s still kind and empathetic, still loyal and bright.

Fuck, you want him so bad. As a friend? No: as a boyfriend, as a lover, as everything all the time.

You stand in the corner of his and Robin’s living room, nursing a hard lemonade and avoiding eye contact with the object of your affection (currently dressed as Marty McFly).

Marty McSteve dances his way over during “Monster Mash.” You laugh at his chaotic display, trying to mentally murder the butterflies in your stomach.

“Hey!” Steve says. He adjusts his orange vest. “Wanna dance?”

Friends dance with friends…right?

“I’d love to,” you say with a smile.

The two of you drink, dance, and drink some more. At some point, you and Robin do shots. After that, you stop resisting the urge to throw yourself at Steve. You boldly go up to him and ask, “Hey, you never showed me your new room. Give me a tour?”

The excuse is shoddy but works its magic. Two minutes later, you’re making out with Steve in his room, pulsing beat of the music reverberating through the thin apartment walls.

His kisses are hot and heady, his hands wander your frame and make your skin burn.

“I’ve wanted to do this again,” Steve murmurs between kisses. “For so long.”

“Me too,” you say, breathless, pulling him even closer to you. The two of you drunkenly stumble around until he pushes you onto his bed.

He kisses your neck, and it feels so amazing, you want to live in this moment forever. But then you glance around his room and see Beart Harrington on his dresser shelf, and you’re taken back to that night at Enzo’s, eating strawberry cheesecake and waiting alone.

You don’t think he would do that again. But the tiny part of you that’s unsure panics.

“Steve,” you stutter out.

Unaware of your inner turmoil, he moans your name and continues kissing your neck. One hand grips your waist, the other roams higher up your thigh.

“Steve. Stop.”

At that, he immediately pulls away and off you, concern clouding his features.

“Is everything okay?” he asks. His voice is so tender, you melt a bit.

You’re not sober enough to properly articulate your feelings. To tell him that you like him so much and getting heartbroken by him again would destroy you.

So you simply sit up and say: “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“That’s totally fine,” he says. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” You don’t respond, just stare at your lap. Steve adds, “Do you need anything? Water, or something to eat?”

You flounder, stammering something about how you don’t feel well and want to go home.

Steve nods. If he’s disappointed or upset, he doesn’t show it. “I can walk you home if—”

“It’s fine,” you interrupt. “I’m sorry, again.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Steve says gently. “Seriously, it’s all good.”

You mumble out a goodbye and practically sprint away, leaving Steve alone on his bed.

“I don’t understand,” he says as he and Robin clean up beer cups after the party has ended. “They ran away so fast. Did I do something wrong?”

“People are allowed to change their minds about sex, you know,” Robin says. She tosses an empty cup at Steve. He fumbles and catches it.

“I know! And that’s okay. But if I made them upset, I want to know why. Rob, I like them so much. I don’t know if I can just be their friend anymore. I want more. And sometimes it seems like they do too, but right before we cross that line, they push me away.”

“This is a conversation you need to have with them, not me,” Robin says. She pulls a pillow off the ground and groans. “Great. Molly puked on the carpet. Hand me a sponge.”

🍓🍓🍓

Steve calls you the next day to check on you.

“I’m okay,” you say, fingers twisting in the phone cord. “Just tired.”

That’s not necessarily a lie. But you’re speaking in mistruths by not openly telling Steve how you feel. How you want him but are so terrified of what will happen. What is this effect he has on you?

“That’s good,” Steve says. You can tell he’s nervous by the way his voice cracks. You can practically see him run a hand through his hair over the phone—an anxious habit he can’t seem to break. “Listen, I’m really sorry if I made you upset yesterday when we were about to…you know. I didn’t mean to cross any boundaries or make you uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t,” you rush to reassure him. “It’s not you…”

You cut yourself off before adding the dreaded it’s me. Instead, you say, “I wanted to do it, but I just panicked.” You suck in a breath. “The truth is, I really, really like you Steve. A lot. Like, I like you way more than a friend should.”

Steve stops breathing for a moment.

“You do?” he asks.

“Yeah. And that terrifies me.”

“What?” Steve says, holding the phone closer to his ear. “I terrify you?”

You laugh, despite the tension you’re feeling.

“No,” you say. “You’re a gem, Steve Harrington. But the thought of getting heartbroken by you again…that’s what scares me.” You drop your voice to a near whisper. “I think it would ruin me.”

Steve gulps. You had been forgiving about the Enzo’s thing when he cleared the air, and the two of you have become such good friends since then. Guilt gnaws at his insides when he realizes how much being stood up affected you.

“I’m so, so sorry Y/N,” he says, after a beat. “I didn’t realize—I mean, I knew what I did hurt you, but I didn’t know—”

“It’s fine, just forget about it—”

“No!” Steve says urgently. “Please. I like you too. I want to make it up to you. To take you out on a real date.”

You pause, chewing your lip and pondering the idea.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” you say cautiously.

“Please. Just trust me.”

Trust. You trusted Steve last summer, and look where that got you.

But you don’t want to be afraid of falling in love with him. Not anymore. So you agree to go on a date with him, hoping for the best.

🍓🍓🍓

Steve doesn’t give you any indication what the date will be. He just tells you to be ready at 7 p.m. sharp.

As the clock ticks closer to 7, you feel your anxiety spike. You’ve convinced yourself he’s not coming, that you’re being stood up again, until—

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You stand from the couch so fast you make yourself dizzy.

When you open the front door, Steve is waiting. However, he’s not alone.

“Oh!” you say, recognizing Steve’s friend Dustin from some volunteering shifts. “Uh, hey, guys. What—”

“Good morrow!” Dustin booms in a theatrical voice. Steve sighs and shakes his head.

“Henderson,” Steve hisses. “I told you: no Shakespeare shit!”

He turns to you and beams.

“Hey, you look great!” he says. Steve holds up a bouquet of forget-me-nots, your favorite flower. The irony is not lost on you. “This is for you.”

“Oh, thank you,” you say, taking it. “You do too. Uh, and Dustin! Nice hat.”

The hat in question is some sort of computer joke, with lots of 1s and 0s. You don’t understand it. But Dustin preens at your praise.

“Thanks, Y/N!” he says. “Now, are you ready for the date of your life?”

“I’m supposed to be the one to say that,” Steve says. “Henderson, just go wait in the car. In the back seat! BACK. SEAT.”

Dustin clambers into the back of Steve’s BMW.

“Steve,” you say, “did you invite me on a babysitting date?”

“I promise I didn’t,” Steve says. “But I did ask my friends for some assistance. You’ll see. Now, what did Henderson say—are you ready for the date of your life?”

He holds out a hand. You hesitate, but take it and smile.

“I think I am. Rock my world, Steve Harrington.”

He drives you (and Dustin) across town to the nature reserve. Dustin exits the car before Steve’s even fully parked, sprinting ahead into the forest.

“Are we supposed to follow him?” you ask.

“He’s going ahead to set some things up. We’ll follow, just much slower.”

Steve holds out an arm. You link yours in his, a bit flustered at the closeness.

“Sorry if this is weird,” Steve says as the two of you leisurely walk on the reserve’s wooded trails. “I know it’s not your typical dinner date, but we tried that, and I fucked it up.”

“It’s really fine, Steve,” you say. “You were on that medication that made you forget.”

Steve bristles at the reminder of his shitty lie. He wishes he could tell you what really happened. Maybe one day.

“It’s not fine,” Steve says quietly. “I hurt you, and that’s the last thing I want to do. So I hope this will make it up to you.”

You make it to a clearing and you gasp. A picnic table has been decorated with flower petals. Twinkly lights are strung on the tree branches and bushes, and around the nearby park ranger station.

Local rock band Corroded Coffin stands at the edge of the clearing, tuning their instruments. Robin, the new lead singer after Eddie’s passing, notices the two of you enter.

“The lovers are here!” Robin says. “Let’s go, boys! 1, 2, and a 1, 2, 3, 4!”

You’re expecting a heavy metal song, and are pleasantly surprised as they start to perform “Crimson and Clover.”

“Do you like it?” Steve asks. He’s wringing his hands together and looking at you expectantly as you survey the picnic.

“It’s amazing,” you say, eyes shining.

Dustin appears from the ranger’s station with his friend Lucas. They’re in matching bow ties.

“Welcome to Chez Hawkins,” Lucas says. “Table for two?”

The boys lead you and Steve to the picnic table. Dustin hands you two hand drawn menus while Lucas pours red wine into two plastic red cups.

“These are lovely,” you say, fingers lightly tracing over doodles on your menu. “Did you guys draw them?”

“Will Byers did,” Steve says. “He’s, like, an amazing artist.”

“May I recommend the house special: grilled cheese?” Dustin says.

“Mainly because that’s the only thing we know how to make,” Lucas adds sheepishly.

You and Steve “order” grilled cheese sandwiches and the boys disappear back into the ranger station. You can faintly hear them arguing with a third person about how much cheese is too much.

“This is really thoughtful,” you say, gesturing to the decorations and the live band and the wine. “You didn’t have to do all this for me.”

“I wanted to,” Steve says with a shrug. “I want to show how much you mean to me.”

Your insides turn to jelly. No one has ever shown you this much care or attention before. And to think, you wasted two-thirds of a year hating Steve Harrington when you could’ve been having these kinds of lovely date nights all the time?

You push away your regrets about your grudge to enjoy the date. The grilled cheeses Lucas delivers are delicious and pair surprisingly well with the wine. You and Steve talk about everything and nothing, and you thoroughly enjoy the music and the company. Corroded Coffin plays all love songs for you two, except for one or two Metallica hits.

When it’s time for dessert, Lucas and Dustin return with their friend Max Mayfield. She parks her wheelchair next to the picnic table and plops a tupperware onto the table between you and Steve.

“Sorry for the lame presentation,” she says. “I hope you like them.”

Dustin pulls off the tupperware lid and waves “ta-da” jazz hands, revealing four red cupcakes. Each is adorned with pink frosting and heart-shaped sprinkles.

“Red velvet cupcakes with strawberry frosting!” he says. “A combination of your favorites.”

You stare at the cupcakes, jaw dropped. Steve panics when you don’t say anything. He clears his throat.

“Sorry,” he says. “I thought you said once that you liked red velvet, because your grandma always made it for you. You don’t have to eat it! I think I have half a granola bar in my car if—”

“I told you that last summer,” you interrupt.

“Huh?”

“The thing about red velvet cake,” you say. “I told you that last summer. Hell, that was one of the first things we talked about, because I asked if Scoops had a red velvet flavor. And you remembered that? One passing comment from last June?”

Steve swallows hard, nervous under your relentless gaze, and nods.

“Uh, yeah? Is that insanely creepy of me?”

“Kids,” you say, not breaking your gaze from Steve’s adorably flushed face. “Close your eyes.”

Dustin, Lucas, and Max voice their confusion, until you lean across the picnic table, pull Steve up by the collar of his windbreaker, and kiss him fiercely. When the kiss registers, Steve wraps an arm around your waist.

The two of you look ridiculous, each half-sitting, half-standing on your sides of the table. Max snatches the tupperware onto her lap just as you pull a little too hard and Steve falls onto the tabletop. He winces and rubs his elbow, and you apologize profusely—but can’t stop smiling.

“Disgusting,” Lucas says, shaking his head. “You two couldn’t even wait until we were gone.”

“Eat these before you make out,” Max says. “They took all day.”

The trio of teens mumble about “gross adults” before retreating to the ranger station. You join Steve on his side of the table, not wanting to be even two feet apart.

“This is the perfect dessert,” you say, “and this is a perfect date. Thank you, Steve.”

“Of course,” Steve says. “I hope it makes up for last year. I still feel so bad about it—”

You place a hand on top of Steve’s.

“You don’t have to be sorry anymore,” you say softly. “It’s all right, Steve. I fully and wholly forgive you. The past is the past.”

“You’re not just saying that because I gave you wine and cupcakes?”

“Nope. But I like wine and cupcakes, so you should do that again sometime.”

“I think I can swing that.”

He takes a bite of his second cupcake just as you whisper something about a different kind of dessert you want to give him, if he wants to take you home. He almost chokes on sprinkles, face as pink as the strawberry frosting, before he grabs your hand and pulls you down the trail. You giggle as he calls over his shoulder, “Robin! Stay with Vickie tonight!”

“Harrington! You paid us to play!” Gareth, the drummer, shouts after you two. “Not clean up!”

“Oh, let them go,” Robin says. “They’re in love! Besides, we’ll make Dustin clean.”

You and Steve spend a perfect night together. As promised, he rocks your world.

🍓🍓🍓

Your boyfriend Steve is forgetful.

He misses doctor’s appointments. He forgets to pick you up from work sometimes. He gets schedules mixed up, and, yes, sometimes he forgets date night.

But you’re a patient person, now that you know he doesn’t do it intentionally. You love him with your whole heart, and you know he feels the same. And you couldn’t ask for anything more.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #st fic: forget

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